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.

 

To The Friends Who Want Me to Stay Still…

Since leaving for college it seems I have been prisoner to explaining my need to go.  17 years old and leaving to another town, another state, hours away had never felt so right.  I wasn’t leaving them I would explain over and over, but simply leaving.  Moving on to a new place, new faces… not a new me, but a different me.

Over the last 10 years I have moved from my small home town to another state and eventually another country, always farther from “home” but closer to finding me.  It has never been about running or hiding or leaving a bad thing.  I am a traveler at heart, a shaker in my soul.  I need to move, I need to feel the change of a new pathway under my feet and the smell the scent of a new garden in the air.  I need to hear the sounds of a new town waking up in the morning and see the lights of a new city finally dim at night.  The adrenaline of feeling outside of my comfort zone is euphoric.  I need to keep going.

Mountain Views in Guatemala.

 

Anyone who travels know this.  Gets this.  Feels this.  Needs this.

Yet every time, without fail, I am accused of abandoning someone.  Questioned, yelled at, cried to, asked to stay.  But I never can.

To my friends that want me to stay still, I simply say… move.  Get in your car first and drive somewhere, anywhere, different.  Feel the wind on your face and the sun on your arm hanging out the window on your drive to no man’s land.  Jump on a plane or a train or a bus, who cares… just let it take you somewhere different.  Unknown.  Unfamiliar.  Possibly unplanned.

The moments I have impulsively buckled in for a road trip or jumped on a bus to a random town in Spain have been the most freeing moments of my life.  Navigating through Central America with only a paper map, Abasi and a bottle of tequila for courage has been one of my most rewarding experiences.

Navigating… and lost… in Mexico.

 

In every new body of water I stand reflected in, every new language I immerse myself in or every unknown alley I take, I turn towards a better understanding of myself.  A intimacy hard to explain unless you have stood at a literal crossroads and simply pointed in the direction you wanted to go, unaware of the outcome.

Tarifa, Spain

 

Even now… in paradise… I feel myself itching anxiously to move.  To see, to experience, to feel vulnerable again.

To my friends that want me to stay still, know this: I carry our stories on my journeys and weave your spirits into my experiences.  I do not leave you behind, but carry you beside me into every new cafe or bookstore I venture.  I roam because you have strengthened me enough to feel as if I can venture out and always have a home to return to.

And once you go, explore and return, overflowing with new ideas and tales of adventures you will get it.  Feel it.  You will come back with friends’ names you can barely pronounce whom with you’ve had conversations barely understandable between the barriers of language, yet you will feel FULL.  Alive.  You will feel humbled.  Rich.  But most of all you will finally get that every movement I ever took didn’t take me away from you, simply closer to you in another direction.

Just go.  And then you won’t have to ask me why I can’t stay.

Tarifa, Spain.

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.

Kindness of a Stranger, Strength of Yourself

Yesterday got off to a swinging start.  Running late at 8am to meet an installation technician at Lazy Mon, I knew I had to get gas or I would never make it to the bar at all.  Hoping on all hopes that I wouldn’t run out of gas before getting to the station, I headed out of town to spend over $5 a gallon… yea, that’s right.  Keep all of the posts on Facebook coming about how cheap gas is in the States right now, I REALLY LOVE seeing them.  Not.

Where was I?  Oh, right.

So, there I was, almost at the gas station and sure enough I ran out of gas.  Taking it for what it was and not freaking out, I grab the empty gallon container out of the trunk and walk the half mile to grab some “get there gas.”

Sure enough, upon arriving at the gas station on foot, one of my not-so-favorite local “pharmacists” is pulling up on his moped and laughingly asks if I want a ride.  Of course he already knew the answer, but I politely declined.  He laughs and rides off.  I curse him in my head and smile.

Moving on.

I grab my $5 gallon of gas and head back to my truck.  It’s not a far walk and I actually don’t mind it with the clouds clearing and sun shining over head.  Walking along the road, I mentally check my list of what I need to fill my tank.

Empty water bottle. Check.

Stick. Check.

Gallon of gas. Check.

Knife to cut open bottle.  GOOSE EGG.

Being resourceful, I figure I can make a hole with my keys and then rip it open.  Clearly, this is not my first rodeo running out of gas.

I get back to my car and start to assemble my goods while not being side swept, when a random older man zooms past on his motorcycle.  I notice that he sees me, passes me and then turns around.  When he comes back he asks if I need help and I ask “tienes un cuchillo?” Do you have a knife?

The man sees the bottle in my hand, says something incomprehensible and zooms past me in the direction he originally came.  Figuring he was trying to help, I wait a beat for his return.  A minute later he comes back with a cut 2 liter bottle, grabs a stick and like a well-oiled machine we work together to pour the gas into the car.  Mission accomplished, I close the tank, thank him and without another word save for “con gusto” he jumps on his bike and leaves.  No strings.  No expectations.  No lingering.  Just good old fashioned help.

And to be honest… I didn’t need his help.  I had already done the “hard” part of walking a mile or so to and from the gas station with the gas.  I essentially had the tools I needed or at least the creativity to make it happen.  But there is an adrenaline rush that comes with both receiving and giving help to a stranger for the sole purpose of doing good.  The rush that comes with truly selfless acts and glimpses of a positive society.  Who was I to deny either one of us of that rare luxury?

The point of my story is two fold.  For one, we are embarking on a new year in less than 10 hours and resolutions aside, let’s just do selfless acts.  Let’s help people for no other reason than to help people.  You don’t have to help someone every single day, but most days or even some days can change a lot of people’s lives… even if it is just BRIGHTENING someone’s day after they ran out of gas on the side of the road.

And the other point of my story is to the ladies.  Often we are stuck in a world between trying to show how strong and independent we are while being beautiful and soft.  I once had a wise woman tell me that I didn’t have to be so scared to let other people help me- that it didn’t make me weak.  I think she was right.  I can be strong and beautiful, independent and ladylike.  I didn’t need that man’s help, but I took it.  Allow yourself to be treated like a lady, but be prepared like a warrior.  Either way, you’re good to go.

Happy New Year to everyone.  Love your family, enjoy your friends, laugh a lot, love often, show kindness, show gratitude, be strong, be soft, be accepting of help and offer it whenever possible.  The simplest of gestures can turn out to be grander than you think.

 

Resolutions Don’t Have To Be Cliche: Improvements in 2015

So we’ve all heard it year after year, “New Year, New Me!”  While there always seems to be people who snicker at the concept of resolutions, I personally don’t see a problem with it.  In my opinion, a bold starting date, such as the 1st of the year, seems like a great jump off point to get your goals and butt in gear.

I think the problem comes when people try for something either unrealistic or something they probably already know they won’t follow through with.  Why start something you can’t finish?  Of course, resolutions are meant to be challenging, but keep it within the realm of reality and your sanity people.

So for me this year I have 3 small New Year’s resolutions.  One is for me to feel better, one is to help Kennedy in the current (and get Abasi off my back : ) shhh) and the other is to help Kennedy in the future.

The first is pretty par for the course for me these days… I just need to really commit to it.  Ever since being pregnant I have developed an intolerance to beer, bread and pasta.  To take those 3 delicious staples from my diet, you would think Kennedy hated me even before she was born!  In fact, Abasi says he got suspicious that I might be pregnant when I told him I “wasn’t in the mood for pasta” right before we found out about Kennedy.  HELLO RED FLAGS!!! Well after the pregnancy it continued and me being stubborn it definitely took some time admitting to it.  I have done pretty well with getting the main culprit out, which is pasta, but I still dabble in beer and bread.  WHO WOULDN’T RIGHT??  Well for this upcoming year, I want to go from Jan 1st to my birthday, April 22nd, without any of it to truly see if it makes a difference in my health.  Pray for me friends, this will be TOUGH!

Secondly, I want to work on something SUPER EASY!  I am the first to admit my downfalls and as a parent I am certainly not perfect.  But this one is so easy, I know I can fix it if I am just MINDFUL about it.  So here it is…. I’M BAD AT WASHING KENNEDY’S HANDS BEFORE SHE EATS!  Whhheewww, weight off my shoulder, save the ‘Mom of the Year’ award until next year, you now know my dirty (literally) little secret.  I am super good at getting home cooked meals ready in a snap, serving it up exactly how Kenny will eat it and setting up her little table.  I GET SO CLOSE… and then I just let her go to it.  Well, it is kinda gross, especially being a tiny little force of nature constantly doing things in every conceivable nook and cranny in the house.  AND this is one of Abasi’s BIG hangups… he is super good at remembering this.  So, as silly as it may seem, I am going to be VERY mindful about washing Kennedy’s hands before she eats.  Moving on.

Finally, this is something I have been very aware of for a while, but until Kennedy really started mocking every little thing I did, I didn’t think of the consequences of.  I think I do something that easily 75% of America does without thinking twice.  When I walk past a mirror, especially the more I work out, I stop and check myself out, flex or lift my shirt to see my tummy.  One day, I was walking by the mirror in my bathing suit and stopped and checked out my figure.  I saw Kennedy stop playing with her toys and notice what I was doing.  I decided then, that I wanted to make this change.  I am not going to completely stop “analyzing” my fitness results but I am going to stop fussing about myself in the mirror in front of Kennedy.  I want my daughter to know that she is strong and beautiful from the inside out, not the other way around. I am happy with the way I am physically coming along which is a great thing.  I am glad Kennedy sees Abasi and I working out, getting stronger physically and mentally, but I don’t ever want her to obsess about her looks.

One day, I was walking by the mirror in my bathing suit and stopped and checked out my figure.  I saw Kennedy playing with her toys beside me stop and notice what I was doing.  I decided then, that I wanted to make this change.  I am not going to completely stop “analyzing” my fitness results but I am going to stop fussing about myself in the mirror in front of Kennedy.  I want my daughter to know that she is strong and beautiful from the inside out, not the other way around.

So that’s it.  Nothing too crazy, nothing too unobtainable.  I will work hard at these (and I’m sure many other things that need constant fine tuning) but I will not punish myself if I slip.  I will acknowledge it and move on. Friends and family feel free to hold me accountable… slap that damn piece of bread from my hand!  And then run fast my friends, very fast ; )

I hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas and has a new year full of health, wealth and happiness. What are your goals for the New Year?  Share ’em with me and let’s work on ourselves together! Here’s to a fantastic 2015!!

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… ❤

I Forgot I Wanted Christmas…

I think I forgot how much I actually wanted Christmas.  No, not the gifts or the Christmas carols.  And definitely not the snow… just Christmas.  I know what the holiday is about.  I was raised in a church and I get the religious reasons for Christmas, but we would be fooling ourselves if we said that was all Christmas is about anymore.  Maybe it shouldn’t be this way… but it is.

What I’m realizing I want is the big Christmas tree, with the pretty and special ornaments.  The sparkling lights, the candles, the wreaths.  I want the stockings all lined up across my parent’s mantle.  The houses lit up throughout the neighborhoods. Time with all of my crazy, ridiculous, obnoxiously loud but beautiful family members I rarely see.  Keep the presents, I just want these things.

To understand you kinda gotta know my mom is a wonder woman.  Seriously.  As a child, we always went to my Grandma Jo’s house for Christmas.  EVERYONE.  All 5 of her kids, whatever kids they had at the moment.  Whatever girlfriends, boyfriends, neighbors, friends, co-workers you name it that wanted to join… could and did.  My Grandma passed away when I was 7 years old and without missing a step, my mom (& dad) inherited 2 dogs and Christmas.  If you ask me, my mom was born to host Christmas.  Yes, I’m sure she stresses herself out beyond belief, but if you could see the house after she decorates, or taste her cooking, or see the mantle with EVERY SINGLE PERSON’S stocking lined up across, then you would get it.  She makes it so special.  And so now, 20 years after taking over Christmas, the “Prizzi Christmas” is a full on circus of family, babies, friends, cursing, laughing, drinking, eating and an abundance of sassy love.

Love this picture of us for Kennedy’s 1st Christmas, but the real point for this picture is LOOK AT THE MANTLE BEHIND US! All of those stockings!! No one is ever left out!

Why am I so bothered about it this year?  Because this year, we are not going “home” for the holidays.  Instead we’re staying in our home of Costa Rica, basking in the sun, drinking margaritas and enjoying Christmas with fellow traveling friends, family and Lazy Mon staff.  And please, don’t pity me… it will be amazing.  I know this because I’ve done it one other time.  The year Abasi and I trekked to Costa Rica, we stayed for Christmas instead of going back to the States.  But we were high on the excitement of a new adventure then… and childless.  Now that we have a family, it hurts not to spend the holidays with our EXTENDED FAMILY.  And I know it hurts them too, which always deepens the pain.

I don’t know if it’s more of a subconscious desire to have the Christmas I’ve known for 27 years or if it’s a “you want what you can’t have” type of thing.  All I know is I’ve found myself in a manic-esque craze the past week, pulling every DIY Christmas project from my arsenal.  My top Google searches are “DIY Christmas Wreaths”, “Salt Dough Ornaments”, “Homemade Christmas Decorations.”  I am craving to create Christmas in the Caribbean.  I want to see it. I want Kennedy to see it.  I feel like I need it to breathe right now.

Trial run for salt dough ornaments. Niki, Kai, Kennedy and I will make more later this week… new tradition for the cousins??

And so, here I am, spray painting pickle jars to turn into snowmen candle holders, buying cheap plastic garland to spruce things up, pulling every Santa hat I own out of hiding and making Salt Dough ornaments for a tree I have yet to find.  In the end it will look “nice”, yet I still find myself yearning for the traditional Christmas I’ve known for 27 years but never knew I NEEDED.

This will be hard.  Not just for me, but for my parents and I hate that.  Aside from not having me, Kennedy or Abasi home for the holidays, they also won’t have my brother for the first time, who is here in Costa Rica with us right now.  But that is a silver lining… we do have some family here.  Like I’ve said before, Abasi’s brother Khalil with his wife (and my sister I never had) Niki live here in Puerto Viejo too.  And they have their son Kai, so for the first time Kennedy and Kai will actually spend Christmas together.  And my brother will be here, celebrating with us too.  It’s our little satellite family, and I thank God for it.

So I guess that’s the way life works right?  Circumstances force you to make decisions that you can either feel sorry about or make something of.  While I am sad, I choose to make something of it.  I will DIY the hell outta this house.  I WILL find a freaking tree.  I WILL put some Christmas magic into my tiny little Caribbean house.  And I’ll do it because my Mom did it for us and because I clearly loved it more than I ever acknowledged.  I have attachments to Christmas, that once deprived of, I never knew existed.  And do you want to know something pathetic?  I don’t think I have ever once thanked my Mom for putting together the amazing Christmas she does year after year.

So to you Mom, who I know is reading because you always do:  THANK YOU!  Thank you for running around, stressing yourself out, cooking for more than 30 people every year, decorating the house, lining up our stockings and making everyone feel so welcomed.  But more than anything, thank you for creating a tradition in a loving home.  Time after time, you knock it outta the park!

Happiest Gramz in the world. The tree doesn’t hold a candle to either of their shining smiles!

To all of you, Happy December 1st!  24 days to go, enjoy your holidays with your family and friends no matter where you are and cherish the traditions you have with your loved ones.  Does anyone out there have a crazy, fun or sentimental tradition you want to share?  I would love to hear it!

Innocence at it’s best… Kennedy’s 1st Christmas ❤

I think the little Jungle Princess is a bit overwhelmed with all of the “stuff” during her 2nd Christmas. No sticks and seashells here Kennedy.

It’s ok… she got use to the material life pretty quick…. she was on the phone all day with her stockbroker : )