Monday, June 08, 2015

Writing Prompts by Yours Truly

There are things that I do everyday but a lot of them weren’t restricted to a specific block of time. This becomes quite a headache when something ends up taking more time than I planned for or some monkey wrenches come flying out of nowhere. In an effort to introduce some more consistency into my life, I’m committing to a stricter routine. Plus the kiddo starts Kindergarten in a couple of months and she needs a better example of what a daily routine resembles since she’ll HAVE to be on one at school. 
One of the areas I needed more consistency was my writing. I write everyday before I get on any social networks but I don’t commit to posting anything. Sometimes I feel like releasing it into cyberspace, other days I’d rather not. My posts are truly random. My old routine was blog daily with my morning cup of coffee, before or after lunch, and post something in the evening. I’ve started several scripts that need rewrites and/or to be completed. There was a time where I worked on my scripts at least 4 hours a day. It enabled me to complete them in about 3-6 months. 
Some of my past needs to be brought into my future because the truth is, all of this worked and put me in several positions to advance with my writing. I moved away from a lot of this when I had my daughter because I made her schedule more important. I’ve reached a point of acceptance that both of our routines are important and they can exist together. 
As part of this personal consistency movement, I’m committing to posting publicly at least once a day under the specific headings:
*Music Monday 
(will highlight artists/songs that I’ve been listening to excessively or that I just think are dope)

*TMI Tuesday
(sharing is caring and sometimes it involves “oversharing”)

*What I Like Wednesday
(it’s so easy to talk about all the things I hate but it’s healthier to discuss what I like, so it’ll be here)

*Theatrical Thursday
(in an effort to not let negativity take over my entire week, I’m saving all my bitching/complaining/venting for this day. I figure if I don’t remember what I’m upset about by Thursday, it wasn’t really all that important)

*Fantastic Friday
(shit I find amazing, I’m going to share. it’ll be What I Like Wednesday on steroids)

*Sexual Saturday
(my friends and I talk about sex about as much as the stereotypical male thinks about it. this will be a judgment free zone so anything goes)

*Social Sunday
(I’ve been a connector of people since I was a kid and the internet whittles the degrees of separation down to one person in a lot of cases so I figure I’d put this skill to use. whether they’re my friend, fellow writer, entrepreneur, artist, or just cool as shit, you’ll get a chance to meet someone whose presence has caught my eye AND I’ll list why)

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Being Pregnant is not Being Fat

Part of being kind to ourselves, is watching the things we say about ourselves.

The word “fat” is thrown around so carelessly by some who are nowhere near the definition of such. When I hear, “I’m so fat”, I immediately want to ask people if they FEEL overweight because the following doesn’t automatically make anyone a fat person:

- if you love food 
- if you’re pregnant
- if you can’t fit your clothes (you might need to buy a 6 or 14 instead of the 4 or 12 you’re forcing yourself into)
- if you’re not having a photogenic day and none of your selfies live up to your posting requirements
- if you’re out of breath after making several trips up the stairs with groceries

The list can grow amazingly long depending on how critical we are of our body and unfortunately, of others.

Growing up bigger than my sister (she was a 00 until she turned 17 and was a 3 until she got pregnant with my nephew at 18), my family considered me the “fat” one. My grandfather called her Po Gal, because she was thin, and called me Fatso, ONLY because I was bigger than her. I HATED THAT SHIT. My friends were usually smaller than me but they were also much shorter. Being a size 2, 4, and 6 is pretty normal when you’re 5"-5'5". I’ve been 5'7.5" since I was 12. Between the age of 12 and 18, I went from a size 6 to a 12. NORMAL. Between the age 18 and 30, I’ve been a 12-16. Most women (not all) will admit to weight fluctuating based on medication (see: birth control for #1 way to gain weight that has nothing at all to do with eating), hormonal changes, stress, menstrual cycles, and just plain old fashion growth. I was 29 when I got pregnant and a size 10/12. My pregnancy wardrobe consisted of sundresses and leggings. I lost 25 lbs the first trimester and didn’t gain it back until my last trimester, in addition to 20 more pounds. By the end, I’d only gone up two sizes. NORMAL.

Even though I lost all but 15 lbs of my pregnancy weight, I sunk into this ugly depression and stopped eating regularly. Started drinking a hell of a lot more and exercised even less. So I gained weight. I’m now a size 18, teetering close to a 20. I am going to lose this weight because I have back and knee injuries from when I was a teen that cannot sustain all of this...not because I think being fat is disgusting. I’m too heavy. Some days I DO feel fat because I AM fat. Other days? I feel fine in my fatness. Ashamed? Never.

Even though I’ve mentioned other things than pregnancy, I called this “being pregnant is not being fat” because that is how a lot of people in society view pregnancy. As a bunch of fat women who are unnecessarily overeating. When I was pregnant the doctor had to remind me to eat MORE because I wasn’t eating enough. The extra eating we do as a mom is not us being a “fatty” or a greedy “fat ass”. We’re feeding our baby, a living, growing organism that needs nourishment just like any other human being. And we gotta stop automatically associating eating food with being fat. People get overweight and obese from other things too and it makes us have unhealthy relationships with food.

But I get it, we can’t let go of how our bodies used to look prior to pregnancy. If our bodies didn’t change to host this growing tiny human, we wouldn’t be able to sustain all the changes and growth that will continue for nine months. Our pregnancy would more than likely terminate early if our body didn’t change. It adapts to bring another life into the world and as difficult as the change can be, we owe it to ourselves to be kind. It encourages other people to look at pregnant women different also. After giving birth, our bodies will take a minute to get back to something we might consider normal but if it doesn’t, it isn’t the end of the world. I had to accept that my boobs weren’t going to be those perky sweater puppies they once were. They were now full, low-hanging fruit of life. Not everybody gets to breast feed their baby because they don’t even produce milk. I could have fed an entire small country of children with all the milk coming out of these jugs. My stomach? Oh, the agony of stretch marks, right? I’ve had stretch marks since I was 8 yrs old because me and my siblings had ridiculous growth spurts. So the additions to my belly? They’re part of life. I don’t necessarily like the after effects of the c-section but I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy little girl and she rarely gets sick, to this day.

We’re only born with one body. If we’re lucky and get some money to create another one, we get two. Kidding but seriously, this is part of treating our body well. Loving it in its entirety. Not calling ourselves things we REALLY aren’t and embracing what we truly are. The shit is contagious and it wouldn’t kill any of us to be a little less of an asshole and a lot more compassionate. Plus, we need to teach our children (girls AND boys) to be comfortable in their skin, not to paint or adopt mental pictures of themselves that aren’t true, and to love themselves.

Not unless we’re dead set on raising the future assholes of America.
it’s my hope that we choose to do better.

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Parts of Me: and The Bug

Took The Bug to see HOME this past Saturday and the show we wanted was sold out so we chose a later time and went to dinner to kill some time before the movie started. I accidentally left my phone in the car and for a quick minute, I sat in the restaurant trying to figure out how to make sure my phone wasn’t lost but just in the car. The Bug must have seen my anxiety because she said, “Mom, I’ll wait here. Your phone is in the car but you go check. I’ll be alright.” I wasn’t leaving her there by herself but I realized how stupid it was to be pressed about that phone. 
Granted, it is important for me to know where my phone is at all times because I’m self-employed and work calls come in all day… and I don’t have a land line. Regardless, at that moment, it wasn’t THAT important. If I had lost it, I had a cloud containing everything I’ve ever downloaded/uploaded and I have insurance. So while I’d rather not spend $150 on another phone, you get the point. 
I chose to sit there phoneless and it hit me that I use my phone for damn near everything. I couldn’t check my bank accounts or email, couldn’t text the hubbs, couldn’t text any of my friends when I saw something funny I wanted to share, couldn’t work, couldn’t write…so many things I do with that thing and I couldn’t do any of them while I was sitting there. 
So I just stared at my kid. I stare at her all the time but I have other things going on that draw my attention away. This time there was nothing to break my gaze and I had a parental moment of sadness wash over me. She isn’t a baby anymore. As much as she looks like me, I have no desire to seriously call her my mini-me. She’s her own person. She has her own facial tics, expressions, and right when I felt some eye water welling up, she looks up and says, “Why are you being creepy? Don’t you have something else to do than stare at me? Gosh, mom” and went back to coloring her menu. 
I didn’t stop staring at her as I laughed. She spoke again without looking up, “Mom, stop staring. You’re making me uncomfortable. Go get your phone. I’ll be alright. Please.” I didn’t leave to get my phone but I did stop staring so intensely. She does and says things that are so much a part of who I am but then without skipping a beat, she’ll say or do something that reminds me so much of her father. Combined, I never really know what I’m going to get but I love it all. 
It made me want to forget my phone more often…because she’s going to be a teenager within a blink of an eye. She won’t be sitting still long enough for me to stare. I might have to go stalk her on social networks. Funny how children draw your attention to all of the more important things without even trying…

Monday, March 16, 2015

Sex Love Joy: Rethinking Traditional Relationships

I had an opportunity to sit with the lovely Anain Bjorkquist and discuss my views on sex, love, joy, relationships and SO much more. Have a listen here.

If you don't have access to iTunes podcasts, feel free to listen on Soundcloud or Stitcher.


Friday, March 06, 2015

Something Old, Something New

The last entry I posted to this blog was on 2/26/2012...3 years ago. 

A lot has taken place since then and some of those things has led me back to my old blog. 

I left blogger to go post at tumble because it was easier to breathe and write without feeling like I had to edit my life. tumblr is still a great place to hide in plain sight but I tried to fix something that wasn't broken. So I'm back...there's more structure here and after hearing more times than I care to admit, that I should have a site just for writing, this made sense. 

I write on Medium but it's still fairly new and everything I think it will grow to become, Blogger is already. There was a lot of life left in this blog and I'm going to rejuvenate it with all the life I have left in me. 

It's more symbolic for me than anything else and it's kind of where I started to share parts of me growing up. 

So in as few words as possible: I'm back :-)

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