If Only Dogs Could Read…

My dear, sweet boy, whoever said ‘a girl’s best friend were diamonds’ clearly never had a friend like you.  My companion and champion, my caretaker and confidant.

Your time is near now and I know it’s not fair.  Not to you, not to me, not to our family, but nevertheless it is out of our control.  I feel we are all being cheated.  There are so many things I wish I knew you understood, so many “human” emotions I wish I knew you could feel from me.  Conversations that are one sided, save for your wagging tail and slobbery kisses.

I am writing to you now, because if you could read, which I know you cannot, there are things I want you to hear.  My feelings, clouded by pain, would be lost after you are gone and there are things I need to say.

You were always the one.  I have known you from the second you entered this world.  Born with a hernia, later to be called your “Bentley Bump” I knew you were the one for me… I loved you because of your imperfections, which to me made you perfect.

In your short 7 years with us, you have cared for me as much as I have cared for you.  You stayed by my bedside when I was sick, you would lay your head in my lap when I cried.  You felt all of my emotions and even if you didn’t understand them, you reacted as if you did.  When I was happy you would try to climb and lie on me.  I don’t think you even realize how big you are my friend, but as the years passed, I could barely breathe under the weight of you… but I never moved.  I would never move from you because you never moved from me.

Together, as the original family of 4, you and Gemini, traversed the Americas with us to our new home.  You walked the steep roads in Mexico and the lands of Guatemala.  You sat, happily tied to a pole, while Abasi and I sang “God Bless America” while being harassed by the Nicaraguan police.  You, my sweet, horse sized friend, are awesome.

I need you to know that I am so sorry for your loss of your mama.  She was older and had a good life, and I guess just like it is yours now, it was her time then as well.  I know it was confusing for you to have her one day and gone the next.  You waited at the gate for her for weeks, expecting for her to come back.  She’s waiting for you now and when you are ready, we will leave you with her.

I feel like now, in the final days or weeks that we have left, like I have failed you in some way.  Maybe I should have walked you more, or told you I loved you more.  Thrown the ball a couple more times or taken you to the beach more often.  Despite my shortcomings you have always greeted me with excitement and love.  Your endless friendship and constant love is evident.  I feel stuck trying to prove my own love for you… I pray you feel it.

If you wanted to keep fighting, I would hand feed you every day for the rest of my life if I had too, but I know that is not in your cards.  Though your personality still shines through, your frail body is preparing.  I can tell by the way you walk beside me and not in front of me anymore, that you are slowing down.  Don’t worry my friend, I will walk beside you until the very last moment.  I will silently cry into your fur and hold you so that you feel surrounded when you go.  I will love you way past your exit from this world.

I love you Bentley, my BoBo.  I love you more than I expected to be able to love an animal if I’m being honest.  I know it is your time and though I wish I could be selfish, I want you to go when you are ready.  Until then, I will hold you, love you and walk with you everyday.  I will stay with you until Gemini greets you on the other side.  You are my companion and my champion, my caretaker and my confidant until the very end my friend.

If only you could read…

Embracing the Evolution of (Our) True Love

I’ll admit it, I’m a sappy, firework wanting, romantic at heart.  I use to think there would actually be days when I would find my Prince Charming and birds would sing, people would dance and we might actually float off the ground.  Cute, right?

Well, thankfully, I DID find my Prince Charming when I fell in love with my best friend 8+ years ago.  No, no one sang and danced… well he did, he was in a band after all… but there were sparks.  BIG TIME! We were THE COUPLE that everyone wanted to be; We were best friends that fell in love.

Fast forward through 8 years of traveling, laughing, great friendships, tough decisions, international moving, big fights, stupid fights, owning a business, a baby and more and the spark that once dazzled has mellowed out, leaving us a bit… well, flat at times.

Truth be told, I even freaked out a bit.  I thought we were losing it… losing us.  I thought that without the spark, the romance and the constant love-proving moments that we were heading towards an inevitable demise.

And then I realized the truth.

I realized that true love evolves from butterflies, “the brand new” feeling and that spark into comfort, longevity and trust.  I realized that…

True love is him always leaving me the end of his coffee because I like it.
True love is overcoming the fear and surprise of a perfectly, unplanned pregnancy.
True love is him holding me without words when we found out my mom was in the hospital.
True love is holding him through a cancer diagnosis for his mom.
True love is crawling into bed with our daughter after a night at work and feeling the braid her Daddy put in her hair after her shower.
True love is crying together as we dig a hole to bury our dog that just passed.
True love is binge watching TV shows late into the night.
True love is sitting together, hand feeding our other sick dog.
True love is laughing… a lot.
True love is holding hands in bed after a tough fight.
True love is that different spark we get when we’re having a “perfect family moment.”
True love is tickle fights in bed with our daughter.
True love is looking one another in the eye and fighting to make it work.
True love is hard, it is work and it is not for everyone.
True love… for us… is knowing that through it ALL we will have each other’s backs.

True love, at the end of the day, is different for everyone.  True love for us, means getting through the hard parts together.  No, it will not always be sunshine and smiles, flowers and fun, but I am honored to have found someone that I feel it is worth fighting for and with.  I am finally starting to realize that the  fireworks are always special to watch, but it’s who you watch them with that makes them magical.

To my best friend, father of my daughter, future husband and partner through it all, I celebrate us… and our evolution of true love. ❤

 

Getting Through to the Big Waves and Clear Waters

In recent days, I have been sick, I have been stressed and I have been hand feeding a very ill dog.  My energy is zapped, my body craves relief and most of all my heart is breaking at the thought that we might lose our 2nd and final dog in a 3 month span of losing Gemini.

Upon walking out of the vet’s office, leaving my dog behind for more tests, I was overcome with emotion.  I got in my car and cried.  I drove and I cried.  I just cried.  I can’t lose Bentley too, not so soon after his mom and not at 7 years old when a dog is supposed to still be healthy.  Ironically, he probably has more attention and care taking then ever before because it’s just him now… yet he is sick, skinny and we can’t figure out why.  Maybe his heart is breaking too.

I drove to the beach because I didn’t know where else to go.  I felt drawn to the waves, into the ocean for relief.  Like a robot I stripped to my bathing suit, tossed my clothes aside and walked into the water.  I stood for a moment just looking out, taking in the beauty and majesty of the coast.

For anyone who knows me well, I have a sexy game of love/ hate with the water.  I both fear it’s vastness and beg to be in it.  But going out too far, by myself, has always been a fear, yet today I was compelled.  I walked farther and farther until I surrendered, crashing down under the water, taking in all of the cold and exhilarating feelings that come with the first dip.

Bursting back through the water and into the warm, sun-filled air, I continued swimming further out.  Ironically the deeper I went into the water, the higher I got, now standing on a sand bar quite far from main land.  I stood up on it, looked around and felt the opposite of what I had expected.  I thought that standing so far out and away would make me feel alone, but instead I felt surrounded.  I felt surrounded with beauty and awe and love.  In front of me was a vast ocean, to my left high mountains, to the right my town I have come to know and love, behind me, my refuge, the land, below me clear waters and above me the heavens.  I felt safe.  I kept going.

I walked past the sand bar, into deeper water and began swimming through all of the crashing white water produced from the waves.  I dove through every one, allowing them to crash angrily over top of me and kept going.  When I got through the sets, now deeper than normally comfortable, I was in calm waters.  The ocean was flat, save for the occasional, yet large wave, but with the new perspective I was able to simply swim under the waves before they crashed, coming back up again to calm seas.

I don’t know what pulled me into the water this morning.  Quite honestly, I almost decided not to go because I didn’t want to wash my hair later, if you can believe it.  But I was summoned.  I was told to go.  To go deep into the water, feel surrounded by the universe and to be renewed.  I NEEDED TO GO.

I started to have all of these crazy thoughts rushing into my head, little whispers of strength and acceptance.  Something was telling me that life was just like this experience.  I had to go farther than I was comfortable to be literally lifted up and surrounded in clear waters.  I had to crash through the rough waves to get to a point where I could maneuver with ease around the big waves or life’s obstacles to calmer times.  I felt saved in that very moment, bobbing with the water, soaking in everything around me and everything so far from me.

Walking out of the water doesn’t mean that my stresses go away or that magically my dog isn’t sick anymore.  But walking out of that water I felt renewed, refreshed, strengthened and ready to take on another day.  Another day of whatever comes crashing towards me.  I am putting myself out there to trust the universe and God and whatever else I have watching over me, that if I swim far enough, I will be able to handle the big waves with ease, stand in clearer waters and never feel alone even when I’m standing so far out.

 

 

4 Dates as a Mama That Are Better Than Any First Date in the World

When you’re young and looking to fall in love, or maybe just looking to have some fun, dating seems like the biggest highlight of your fledging social life.  First dates, with all the butterflies, awkward moments and possible first kisses are magical in their own right, but what would you say if I told you it gets even better?  What if I told you I’ve discovered 4 dates in my adulthood… and specifically as a mom… that blow the best first date I’ve ever had out of the water?

The “Let’s Escape and Remember We’re Humans That Love Each Other Date”

To be fair, I have actually had a first date with this person- and it was pretty amazing.  BUT as exceptional as that date was, over sushi and loads of sake, I’m talking about a rendezvous even more special, more intimate… and one that rarely ever happens.  I’m talking about the elusive date with my fiancé.  That magical moment when we actually have a babysitter and can sneak away for a few hours to simply enjoy being adults together.  Yes, we love our daughter, but we also love one another and certainly do not get enough time to just let loose and share a few laughs, catch a movie or a plate of really delicious, salty parmesan and prosciutto.  When we enjoy each other more, we not only enjoy our family more, but we handle the bumps and bruises of parenting better together too.

The “You Save My Soul and Keep Me Sane Date”

Coffee? Check. Laughing? Check. Girlfriends? Check Check.  Mastering the art of the girlfriend date has been by far one of my biggest accomplishments and sanity savers.  Never in my life did I expect to find such raw happiness in laughing and talking… mixed with a bit of bitching… with my girlfriends over a good cup of hot coffee!  Nothing is off limits, from toddler tantrums to awkward gynecologist visits to the latest dumb fight with our spouses.  Girlfriends are the soul sisters sent to us to let us know we’re NOT ALONE (or crazy!)  No matter if it’s a quick cup of Joe, a long night with an endless supply of wine or anything in between, I relish the time to soak up all the support and love with my BFFs.

The “Embracing Every Moment of Our Legacy Date”

If you’re blessed enough to still have the opportunity for date #3, I suggest you get on it and savor every moment you can.  Opportunities to share time with my adult parents is by far one of the most treasured experiences in life.  Everything from learning little secrets I didn’t realize as a child to discovering more of who I am through the tales of my parents to their NOW WISE advice is something to behold.  Simply shopping (power walking and bargain buying) with my Mom or sitting on the back deck, sipping a martini with my Dad, time always seems to simultaneously stop and pass in the blink of an eye.  For a moment, I am transfixed- embracing this person whom I know will not always be around- trying my best to soak up every memory, piece of invaluable knowledge or family secret before the hustle and bustle of life starts again.  Though I vividly remember with joy my “Daddy Daughter Dates” as a child, watching vampire movies and eating large bowls of pasta, I still wouldn’t trade any of my adult conversations with my parents for the world.  I hold every nanosecond deep inside my heart to pull from, when inevitably one day, they are no longer around to guide me.

The “Little Toes, Big Smiles, Perfect Moments and Endless Love Date”

Finally, this brings us to the date of all dates.  The very MOMENT I realized I wanted life to literally stand still.  The moment I thought to myself “this is exactly how every true love should feel.”  That exact moment I looked at my daughter, lying in our bed with a big bowl of popcorn practically hiding her face, watching a movie and laughing.  Just the two of us in our pajamas, our hair messy from a day of play- date night with my daughter has turned out to be the most rewarding event of my life.  No wining and dining, flowers, first date sparks or butterflies can compare to the simplicity of true love between us.  It is in the very moment that we start singing or dancing to any number of Disney movies, that I know this… this moment right here… is my favorite date of all.  On any given day, my hundredth kiss from my daughter is still more special and cherished than any first kiss on any first date in the world.

Secretly Teaching My Daughter to Embrace the Messy/ Beautiful in Life

The other day I had a typical proud MOM moment.  Like the many before this one, I stared at my daughter and thought YEP, she’s a genius!  Luckily for me, I usually get brought back down to reality quick enough that I don’t start calling news agencies and boasting that I have the next Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds in the making.  Yes, my daughter is smart, beautiful and creative but she’s probably not a super genius wiz kid. PROBABLY.

But on this morning I was “Momming” around the house… you know cleaning, picking up and organizing… when I picked up her coloring book to put away.  Flipping back to the front, I noticed she had already gone ham on this new book as the pages were starting to fill quickly.  I immediately noticed a castle outline with coloring already in the works… and it was, for a 2 year old girl, AMAZING.  I was stunned at how inside the lines she was and how she had even started a pattern for the colors.  So impressed in fact, that I asked Abasi if it was his work, which thankfully it was not since he’s 36 and I know he’s got a better coloring game than that!  I couldn’t believe it… how could a little girl color so well, so neat and so organized?

I mean, she’s 2… wow, right?

 

And almost before I got through the thought in my head, I felt a sudden urge of panic.

Not an uncontrollable, debilitative panic but a small sensation running up my spine telling me to pay attention to something.  I knew immediately what it was.  The drawing was too neat and clean, too put together for a little girl.  I wanted her to go crazy, be messy, have fun with it, not worry about staying inside the lines too much.

And trust me, I would never say this to her… this stays between us.  I will encourage and applaud her drawings, neat or messy.  But I want to make sure she is embracing all the beauty that comes with being a little crazy, a little messy and a little imperfect.  This wasn’t a ground breaking, life shattering turn of events for Kennedy, she will never be the wiser, but now as her Mama, I have a secret mission: to help her embrace the messy and beautiful parts of life.

It’s along the same lines of cheering and clapping when a baby falls down.  They look immediately to your face to determine if this is something they should cry about, be hurt because of.  If you make a happy-big deal about it, they get excited again and keep on moving.  I want to be like that for every little messy part of Kennedy’s life.  Her biggest cheerleader (ugh, yes I said it) for big or small events that go either as planned or not according to plan.  I want her to know that not being perfect IS PERFECT.  She doesn’t have to get straight A’s, never have braces, win every game or keep every hair in it’s place, as long as she is giving it her all.  She can fall down, get up, go out on a limb, cry, wipe her eyes, take chances, fail and then succeed again because THAT is what it is all about in this crazy/ beautiful life.

Some people will get this, others will not.  That’s ok.  For me, I look at that picture and see how well done it was and know she is already on her way to being amazing.  She’s got it in her and I can’t wait to watch her grow and succeed like I know she will.  But I also know from my own experiences, that it’s not always about drawing inside the lines.  Doing something crazy, taking chances and making mistakes is how we learn and grow.  Some days we will be a perfectly colored castle and other days we will be a Jackson Pollock piece of art… and that is beautiful.

 

Skype Call to Poison Control

The other day I laughed at how crazy life is.  Here I am in one stage of parenting, while my other friends were at various stages of theirs- from first steps to actually giving birth at that very moment.  Life is indeed crazy.

What I didn’t know was that just 2 days later, life would show just HOW crazy it can be.  How incredibly fast life can change.  How I could go from having Kennedy dancing on my feet to “Unchained Melody” in one moment and a mere few hours later, Abasi and I would be Skyping the Poison Control Center in the US about a possible toxic overdose for our daughter.  Life is CRAZY.

Kennedy in bed and Abasi and I settling down to eat our dinner, we thought we had won a  free pass to sleep town.  She hadn’t napped during the day, she was easy to put into bed and now she was quiet. Obviously, too quiet.  We heard a bump, looked into the room and saw Kennedy playing in her room, tube of previously almost full Salicylic Acid nearly empty in her hand. Looking around, we quickly saw it rubbed onto the floor, on some toys and in her hair, but with the tube being so empty… twisted as if to get that very last bit of cream out… we were clearly concerned with ingestion.

So we asked, “Kennedy, did you put this in your mouth?”

“Yes, I tasted it.”

“You put it in your mouth?”

“No, I tasted it.”

Well, that did nothing to ease our concern.  Discussing with a two year old the difference between tasting and swallowing, especially when they can tell they MIGHT have done something wrong, gets you absolutely no where.

Fast forward through a blur of googling, Skyping the Poison Control (who were AMAZING), coming to the conclusion that though Salicylic Acid is essentially aspirin (which is why it’s dangerous for children), the amount she could have possibly ingested was PROBABLY not enough to be toxic, washing her and brushing her teeth, I found myself lying in bed with her, waiting for any kind of reaction.  Never before has living so far from a hospital (an hour and change from a not-so-great-one and 4 HOURS from a great one) seemed so scary and suffocating.  She did have 2 slight “symptoms” according to the various sights we read, but all in all seemed energetic and fine.

As she fell asleep, I put her face close to mine and said “I need you forever Kennedy.  You can’t go anywhere.”

Her response?  She put her tiny little hands on either side of my face and said “You’re beautiful Mommy.”

I pretty much just collapsed my face onto hers, needing to be close to her, hating myself for leaving that tube in reach and thanking God for allowing this to not have been as serious as it could have been.

Clearly, I slept with her that night.  Well, more like I laid next to her as she slept, every twitch or cough she had I inspected until I felt sure she was ok.  I woke/ got up at 6am when the sun was coming through the windows, checked her again, kissed her on her forehead and walked to the door to watch her still for another minute or two.

I checked on her another 2 times after that.  Any sound I heard, I jumped out of bed.  The next time I went into see her, she was laying in bed awake and laughing.  Again, I fell into her bed and kissed her.

So many things can and DO happen in the blink of an eye, and this time we got away with it.  I left something in reach and it could have been a lot worse.  I could have made a mistake that I would never forgive myself for.  As I’ve said before, I’m not perfect, but I’ll be damned if I don’t learn from my mistakes and appreciate the things that do go our way.

Clearly, alls well that ends well.  We are back to the normal morning routine of coffee, juice, cartoons and her newest obsession of begging for chocolate. It was a wake up call, but in the end not serious. We were lucky.  We ARE lucky.

Life is crazy.

 

My Little Girl’s Gentle Soul: Nature vs Nurture

To say that my daughter surprises and inspires me daily is an understatement.  The obvious humor Kennedy possesses is nothing compared to the gentle soul that frequently expresses empathy for others.  I have seen my 2 year old care more for other human beings than some grown folk.  By 1 years old she was rubbing the backs of older children who were crying, obvious to their sadness.  As her age progressed, so did her awareness of situations with pain and sadness, leaving her to cry at sad songs in movies… obviously my child with that one.  She just gets it.

Today I stood in awe from the doorway as I watched my tiny little human, the best thing I have ever created, line her animals and dollies up on the bed to sleep, whisper in their ear and kiss them on their heads.  Kennedy beams beautiful from the inside out.  She has grace that I cannot explain and question if I can even take credit for.

Of course there are moments when the terrible twos rage their screaming, belligerent heads.  Moments where she looses all human like qualities and simply flails on the ground like a sea creature out of water.  Oh yes, my darling daughter does that also.  But I feel like those moments only help to show the stark contrast that is her soft and gentle nature.

How did this happen?  Is it simply who she is or a direct result of our obvious award winning and glorious parenting?  Though I obviously kid about the next-to-Godly job I am doing parenting, I do pray that my daughter’s kindness comes at least in part from her interactions with Abasi and I.  “Dear God, please allow Abasi and I to continue being the very best parents we can” is a nightly prayer.  I only want to do the VERY best I possibly can do for her… nothing more, nothing less.

Hopefully it is a combination though.  Hopefully Kennedy’s born nature is working in peaceful unity with the examples she sees not only from Abasi and I, but from her family, friends and surroundings.  The simple nature that is our life here in Costa Rica hopefully lends Kennedy to feeling less of the hustle and bustle stress of an over-stimulated world.  I certainly have moments that are not in my finest hour, when the stress of the day erupts after washing the 100th plate of the day and the dirty dish water splashes up into my face and over on the floor, leaving me howling out the kitchen window like a crazed wolf.  Oh yes, picture it.  These moments I would rather prefer her NOT to note for later use.

The moments like today only inspire me to snip my loose ends and tighten up my game.  Not because I am trying to be perfect and act like I don’t loose my cool or have moments of being incredibly overwhelmed.  I want to simply mirror the beauty that I see in my daughter.  If she can learn from my nurture, then why can I not learn from hers?

And if this is the result- this small, beautiful, bundle of empathy, humor and grace than I am humbled, truly humbled, to be her mother, her teacher and her student.

The Hand of Ignorance Blinds Us All: Moving Past Hate and Racism

I feel like I’m suffocating.  Perhaps that is a poor choice of words in respect to recent events and it is meant to have zero comedic relief in it, but it is truly how I am feeling at the moment.  I feel so lost and confused, embarrassed and sad, ashamed and defeated.  How can this still be such a violent and ugly problem in almost 2015?  Normally, living in such a remote place, it is easy to cast the troubles and tensions of the U.S. into the “not my problem” box, but I feel like I can’t ignore it anymore.  My gut is wrenched and my heart is almost in pieces as people are dying daily because of… what?  Police brutality?  Black vs white? Thugs?  No, it’s more simple than that.  It’s because of hate.  All because of hate.

And quite frankly, I need you to explain it to me.

I hear things like “you people” and “those people” as if all people of one race, religion or occupation subscribe to the same deplorable behavior and actions that have been wreaking havoc on our nation.  I read such hate being spewed throughout my newsfeed about black people or police as a whole, choosing to forget that every person is an individual and responsible for their own actions, not those of their people.  Truly you cannot believe in your heart that all police officers are killers… if so, then please know you are talking about my cousins who risk their lives every day to serve and protect, all the while having 2 little boys to come home to.  And certainly you do not believe that all black people are ignorant thugs, as I have read too many times to count in various news feeds and comments.  If so, then you are speaking also of the father of my daughter, my best friend and one of the most honorable men I know, whom mind you served our country as well… but he’s a thug right?  It goes beyond just generalizations of white people, black people and cops.  Too often people of the Islamic religion are also generalized as part of a whole, attacked undeservedly and tagged terrorists just for being Muslim.  Who are we in this world of constant diversity to assume anyone is anyone other than themselves?  Being a part of or from something does not make you ALL of that something.

Please do explain it to me, because I just don’t get the generalized, automatic hate.  As a white mother to a beautifully mixed daughter, I can’t understand the fact that some people will hate her, just for being “half her.”  What do I say to her as her white mother, that there are some people from my race that will simply hate her father’s race for no good reason?  Can we not see, as a supposedly evolved people, that one person’s actions only depict their character, for better or for worse?  I can’t explain it because I never conducted my life by the color of the people I interacted with. Being in a biracial relationship doesn’t mean my world is “colorless” but to the contrary it is that much more colorful.  I neither fell in love with Abasi because he was black, nor would I ever NOT love him because he was black.

Recently, I  re-read the saying “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” but I am beginning to think that possibly we already are.  Can we not see the small patches of beauty in this world enough to want to continue to move in that direction.  Towards a better future for our children, towards equality of all people: black, white, purple, gay, trans, Muslim, robot?  How can a country that has seen so much destruction and hate feel compelled to fester with that instead of rise against it and show that there is such a thing as being the better person?  Of moving forward.  Moments like Sergent Barnum and Devonte Hart putting aside their differences in Ferguson to embrace in the presence of pain.  Moments like Pakistani teenager Malala Yousafzai being the youngest recipient of the Noble Peace Prize after being injured by the Taliban and continuing to fight for human rights.  Or moments just in your own, simple life such as when my daughter grabs my face and says “I wuv you Mama.”  There is beauty to behold, but the blindness of hatred does not allow us all to always experience it, thus continuing to walk through a world, seemingly filled with pain and darkness.

The truth is, people are dying… on both “sides.”  This isn’t about who was right, who was wrong, was he justified, etc.  What I am talking about right here, right now is the bottom line hate that stirs the ignorance and fuels the fires.  No matter what “side” you are on, and it is nauseating to see the depths at which some of you will blindly defend your side, no one is winning.  There is no winner to be had here.  Children are still becoming fatherless and parents are still mourning their children.  Yes, it is true black lives matter.  So do white lives and cop lives.  So do gay lives and straight lives.  It’s really simple… ALL LIVES MATTER.

The only side we should be on, is a united front for humanity and equality.  When that day comes, then perhaps I will have the courage to look my daughter in the eye and explain that our pasts are all etched with dark times but we have risen above it and are a united, accepting people.  I truly do fear, as not only a woman who does not tolerate racism nor hate but especially as a mother, that not even my daughter will ever see that day.  But I can continue to pray for it.  And I can continue to teach my daughter that the beauty in this world starts inside of her.  That her actions to others not only have negative consequences but have the opportunities to enrich the lives of others as well.  I can continue to conduct myself and my actions with tolerance (which is different than patience Abasi, thank you very much… I am working on that as well) and to choose to love instead of hate. Please do not get me wrong… I am the last person in the world to say there are not people out there that I would love to put on an island just for them, but to hate someone really only defeats yourself and darkens your own soul.

So let’s do something.  Let’s start today, before the holidays, before the New Year.  Not as just a resolution to work on for one year, but forever for our futures.  TODAY.

Today, I vow to recommit myself to the achievement of peace.  Today, I vow to refocus my prayers to the people that cannot open their hearts to others.  Today, I vow to replenish my soul daily with love and acceptance instead of allowing myself to get wrapped up in petty problems or linger on negative actions.  If we all take a moment to look inside ourselves then maybe, just maybe, we can rid ourselves of the blinders and begin to see the wonder that this world truly holds.  Though we may feel foolish and cheated for ever living a day prior with a hand of ignorance held over our eyes, we can solidify and promise a beautiful and accepting future for our children… and what a day to look forward to that is.

Will you join me?

The epitome of love ❤

Everything in life should be as simple as this moment right here… ❤

Mornings I Want to SCREEAMM!!!

Oh hello 6:30am… is it time to wake up, because I could’ve sworn I just closed my eyes barely before my head hitting the pillow.

But no, it has to be time to get up, because I hear Kennedy pounding on her door, yelling “MAAAMMMAA!!”  Opening the door, I am greeted by the newest fashion trend Kennedy is flaunting… full on nudity, convinced she must take off her own diaper behind the door every morning.  And it is definitely morning, because the sun is up from its sleep as well and the monkeys, yes monkeys, are howling and grunting high above our heads.  Yes… it is definitely morning in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica for this Jungle Princess and her mama.

But unlike normal mornings, coffee in hand and cartoons on the TV, we don’t have time today to adjust to the new day before heading to school.  No, today we must finish the cake for Kennedy’s class party, which means running out to town before 8am.  Hurry, hurry, hurry, we have to get out the door my little love.

Hardly.  My beautiful child, who can rock an easy disposition like no ones business is having none of it today.  Incessant whining every time I put her down, needing to be held, then yelling NO! as if to say “HOW DARE YOU PICK ME UP!”  This tiny little maniac is sending signals all over the place and all the whining is already fine tuning my must-get-coffee-now-headache.  God bless my soul, even her rare moments of happiness induced singing are driving me crazy this morning. Pushing through the fits and  trying my damnedest to keep calm, I turn her attention to getting dressed because today, I remind her, is a party at school!  My efforts seem not to be in vain but she quickly remembers she has recently mastered her colors- thank God because I swear I thought she was color blind. However, Hell hath no fury like a toddler that knows her colors.  “GGGWWEEEENNNN PANNNTSSSS!!!”  Dear God, please Krysta… find the green pants, I beg of myself.  And as if taunting me, I peer through her bedroom window to see her green pants hanging on the line, dripping wet from last night’s (and the night before that and the night before that and, well you get it…) rain.  Well that sucks.

I try to steer her attention to a “yellow-green” shirt, to no avail.  Thankfully, after another bout of fits and crying, she decides red is ok to wear and like a gift given from God himself, there are a pair of red pants sitting as a sacrifice atop the pile.  Remember to say an extra thank you later, I remind myself.

Fast forwarding through more huffs and puffs, the wanting the banana then not wanting the banana, NEEDING to wear her blue shoes (what do I care if it doesn’t match and we can get it done without tears), and again with the needing to be held… carried actually to the car.  It feels like I’m rounding third, on my way to home plate, just a quick stop at the store and we are at school… I can practically smell the coffee percolating in my kitchen.

BUT NO, duh.  The mental prepping I had done last night is all awash.  The candy I had envisioned on the cake is out of stock and the other candies aren’t going to cut it.  Think fast, move on Krysta.  At this point, Kennedy has already stared wide eyed at the candy display, holding onto the promise she could have “only one.”  With the time restraint and lack of suitable candy, I make what I know to be an unwise move and leave the store, sans candy.  Insert waterworks —->> here.  More like fireworks with tears, as she screams and thrashes all the way to the car.  A local surfer I pass says “you look nervous,” and though I think the term got lost in a language translation, I know what he means and blurt out “I JUST NEED TO FINISH A CAKE!!!”

I run to the only other store open at this hour and settle on rainbow sprinkles… no not Jimmies to all my South Jersey friends… these are the tiny little ball sprinkles.  It is lack luster but it will have to suffice.  Kennedy at this point has refocused her energies and compromises on a juice.  Easy.  Buy it and run to the car, open the sprinkles and again my Murphy’s Law of a morning continues.  SPRINKLES EVERYWHERE.  EVERYWHERE.  Clean up all the sprinkles and I drop the freaking cap on the ground almost under the car.  I seriously don’t have time for this and I can feel my blood rising into my face.  WOOOSSAAHHH, Krysta, you’re so close to home, the ball’s in mid field, you will DEFINITELY make it to home plate.

Throw the kid back in the car, head to school, hand over the cake… I am relinquished of that responsibility now… and give kisses goodbye.  Halleujah, I slide around the plate, barely sweeping my fingers on the base, close but enough for the home run… I am free.  Free for the next 4 hours.  Well actually 2.5 because I have work meetings, but still free to go get some coffee, decompress and renew my patience.

Not every single morning is rainbows and sunshine people.  Most days are great.  But some days I want to rip my hair out.  Today was one of them.  This too shall pass. And at noon, I will gladly go to the school, scoop my big/ little girl into my arms, ask her how her day was and kiss her until I turn blue in the face.  It’s about breathing, accepting the bad moments, embracing the good and pushing forward to the new.

And it helps to remember that children are really just tiny, little, crazy midgets whose sole purpose is to make you go bat s*%t crazy… but they do it with love.  : )  True story.

At least the cake looks cool… pre frosting and sprinkles.

All Dogs Go to Heaven: Facing the Elephant in the Room

39 days it took to face the elephant in the room.

39 days ago (which was 2 days ago when I initially started writing this post, umm HELLO LIFE!)  we had to let our 12 year old German Shepherd go to her final rest.  And with only her son Bentley left behind the big bag of dog food began to stare at me from all angles of the room… every time I walked by.

I guess everyone has their way of dealing with losing their beloved pets.  Everyone deals differently.  For me, the entire week of letting Gemini go was devastating.  The 2 days prior, while she was at the vet and having tests done, knowing we were leading to an unfortunate decision were just as hard as making the decision to let her go.  Being there in Gemini’s final moments, her head resting in my hands, choking on tears… there are just some things you won’t ever forget.  The next morning, Abasi and I quietly looked for a place to bury her along the coast, high enough from any water and along the path we use for our runs.  Together and without speaking, we dug a hole, placed her in gently and gave her a toy of Kennedy’s and 2 coconuts to hopefully grow a tree from.  We filled in the sand, placed flowers on her grave and said a prayer.  And really, that was that.  We cried and we hugged.  And that pretty much happened the rest of the week… crying and hugging, crying and hugging.

She always loved the beach… rest easy girl ❤

 

Honestly, the memories we have with her, the pictures, the now empty dog collar hanging from our rearview mirror, and the other Shepherds running around town were nothing compared to seeing this seemingly bottomless bag of food.  I was praying to buy another bag.  For years, we bitched and moaned about how much food the dogs ate and joked that they better find jobs to help pitch in.  It felt like every single week I was running last minute to the store to grab the huge bag of food to feed our horse sized (slight exaggeration) dogs that would be gone in the blink of an eye.  But now, the hardest part of dealing with letting Gemini go was having to walk past a bag of food every day that seemed to have no where to go.

Of course Bentley was eating…  Bentley eats everything.  But still for 39 days I felt like I was holding my breath until I had to buy more.  The first bag since Gemini.  The first bag without Gemini.

And as simple as that, I feel like a weight has been lifted from me.  It may seem small and insignificant but it’s as if a page has turned and now we can continue writing the rest of our story… always with Gemini in our prelude.  I don’t have any other beautiful or transcendent words to say about this.  It was just a bag of smelly dog food… but I feel better.

And so, I just want to end by reiterating something I wrote the day we buried her, which I feel she deserves to have re-said:

“Yesterday we had to say goodbye to a huge part of our hearts and our family. Gemini was a beautiful dog and from day one of bringing Kennedy home, she hovered near her, watching her. When Kennedy got older she would nudge Kennedy away from places or areas she shouldn’t be crawling or walking to. We know she isn’t in pain anymore, and I suppose love is enduring a pain yourself so that she can be free of it. Thank you Gemini for being an amazing little puppy that allowed Abasi to understand the first true feelings of tenderness for caring for another life. Thank you for so effortlessly loving me when I came into the picture. Thank you for giving us Bentley who is the silliest dog in the world and looks like a horse. I promise to take extra good care of him now when he will need you most. Thank you for taking this adventure with us to Costa Rica, you walked the lands of many countries, more than a lot of other dogs. And thank you for always seeming to have a protective spirit around Kennedy. I know you will still “shepherd” her and all of us in the right direction. Dogs aren’t just dogs, they are family, and we will love and miss you for the rest of our time. Sleep easy. RIP Gemini.”