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The Things We Wait For

November 1, 2012 15 comments

Every semester for the last two years I’ve printed the 1L xxxx School of Law course schedule and kept it tucked inside a notebook hidden in my purse. I’ve been carrying it around as if the schedule were my own, praying that one day it would be.

In a life which I’ve devoted the better part of to raising a family, my hopes to pursue a law degree has been a secret desire buried twenty years beneath the daily conundrum of kids’ science projects, football practices, mortgage payments, the ups and downs of my husband’s business, and my own nine to five job. When you spend that much time folding laundry and refereeing sibling rivalry attempting law school seems more like a pipe dream and less than a reality. Perhaps even more restrictive of this law school fantasy of mine was that bachelor’s degree I lacked but required if my aspirations were to become anything more than an unsettled yearning in my chest. Read more…

It’s Almost G Day Folks!!

I contemplated long and hard about writing this post. I wasn’t sure if I should be embarrassed…or proud.

I think people tend to be their own worst critics. Course, I don’t believe that about everyone. Browsing through my husband’s Facebook newsfeed, you might actually think otherwise. There’s definitely a good amount of tooting-your-own-horn going on over there. Maybe that’s why I don’t have a Facebook account. Heck if anyone wants to read snarky comments about my life every ten minutes on his or her feed. A few hours of that and I imagine people would start blocking me.

Truthfully, I always feel uncomfortable accepting compliments or praise and it’s a rare occasion I’m not kicking myself for something I wish I did better. It’s a little tiring really, flogging myself all the time. Read more…

The Stories They Leave Out of the Marriage Manual

February 18, 2012 17 comments

Some days I look at my husband and think, “I can love this man a thousand years, in this life and the next.” Other days I find myself struggling to figure out how I’m supposed to stand him one more day. Marriage is funny like that. It’s like a roller coaster, complete with that sick-to-your-stomach-feeling you get when you catch a dip you didn’t realize was going to be so steep.

There really is a thin line between love and hate. I should know, my husband and I have danced on both sides more often than I’d like to count. On a few occasions I’ve just been one bad decision away from setting his clothes, his car – heck, sometimes his *ss on fire. Good thing I know better, at least now I do.

The last few years of our marriage have been rough, which is saying a lot considering the first ten was chock full of cinematic worthy drama. I don’t doubt the stories of my marital highs and lows wouldn’t incite screenwriter Tyler Perry into writing part three to his ‘Why Did I Get Married’ movie series. Read more…

Happy New Year…from my house to yours..

January 14, 2012 2 comments

Another year has come and gone, another memorable chapter in our lives closed.

It hadn’t been one of our better years. As individuals, and as a family, I think each of us learned new things about ourselves, strengths we didn’t realize we had and weaknesses we would’ve preferred keep to ourselves . My husband and I found ourselves doing a lot of much needed self reflection. We rediscovered what it takes to keep a family whole and how being happy with ourselves and each other plays a key role in that.

Between the hectic schedule of a family of six and despite our tumultuous summer, we’re all still laughing and driving each other nuts, in a good way..at least most of the time. Read more…

Renee – A remembrance and tribute to love..and loss

Recently, I was given the opportunity to provide a remembrance at a memorial for my dear friend’s wife, who was taken from us far too early. It was my tribute to their extraordinary love…and to his new found pain. 

I didn’t get a chance to know Renee as well as I would have liked, but as David’s Executive Assistant and as his friend, I did have the pleasure of getting to know her through his eyes.

I know that she was beautiful, intelligent, and strong. She loved the arts, especially ballet. She went to school at Texas A&M and maintained that fighting Aggie spirit throughout her entire life. I know she was a dedicated Aggie, so much so she made David a convert when he actually attended Baylor and UT.  Read more…

The Stuff Our Kids Teach Us

October 11, 2011 6 comments

The other day I was tossing up the closet when one of my girls came up from behind me in surprise.

“Mama, what are you doing?”

You bet I jumped. “Hey sweetie.”

“What are you doing,” she asked with her head cocked to one side.

Now this is the baby of the family, the kid where hubs and I finally got it right, hence a bit sheltered, so when she asks me what I’m doing when it’s rather obvious I’m nosing through her dad’s junk she really is asking out of innocence. This is opposed to her older, more street savvy siblings whose likely responses would’ve been, “Mom, whatcha’ doin’ creeping through dad’s things again,” accompanied with a wink and a smile implying I owe them one.  Read more…

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July 21, 2011 Enter your password to view comments.

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Exhaustion

March 24, 2011 9 comments

I’m not a morning person, never have been. In fact, I have a love hate relationship with my snooze button. I need her, rely on her, religiously check on her just in case, but every morning I blindly smack her quiet for that luxurious ten more minutes of sleep. Who am I kidding? I set her for 6:30, but shush her half a dozen times before my husband has to coerce me out of bed with coffee at 7. And that’s on a good day.

The worse days entail me waking up to my fourteen year old standing above me citing I have fifteen minutes to get dressed and out the door. Better believe I’ve long since given up fixing my face and hair unless I can work that in while I warm up the car. I usually focus on just trying not to wear the same outfit two days in a row and some weeks I don’t even manage that.  Read more…

This Ain’t No Hallmark Card It’s a Rant, But an Honest One

February 13, 2011 31 comments

I’m no expert on love or marriage, I’m barely an expert at my own life, but over the years I think I’ve learned a few things worth sharing. I’ve had the pleasure, and sometimes the burden, of loving the same man for the last sixteen years. I was only nineteen when we started dating and naive enough to think all a marriage needed to survive was love. Sure was a fool back then, but I learned.

Here’s what I know so far. Foremost, it takes hard work.  You have to show up, be there, listen.  You invest a great deal of time, effort, and patience, a whole lot of patience into a marriage.  And still there’s more.  You have to make something of the time you spend together.  It’s not enough to just be around living day to day in some force fed obligated routine.  You have to sincerely care about where your relationship is going, not just when everything is new and exciting, but throughout its entire duration. Read more…

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January 9, 2011 Enter your password to view comments.

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Happy New Year from our family to yours!

January 1, 2011 2 comments

Here is an excerpt from our annual holiday  family newsletter.

It’s amazing how quickly the years go by, especially when you’re having fun. Well, it hasn’t all been fun, but it’s definitely been memorable.

Yesterday AJ was still tossing his 2nd grade lunch in the garbage bin instead of eating it, Rodney Jr. was still waving at me through tears every day I left him at daycare, Kayla still cried just because you looked at her funny, and Taylor still swore by the tooth fairy who jipped her when she woke up to use the bathroom.

Today AJ is an adult and navigating his way through early adulthood eating every last bite of the lunches we feed him, and yours if you’re not careful, Rodney Jr. spends weekends at his friends’ homes as if I shared custody with their parents, and this year the girls think they’re too old for anything from Toys ‘R Us and prefer jeggings. Read more…

Sorry, It’s Just Not Your Lucky Day

December 23, 2010 11 comments

The current economic crisis has left few unscathed, myself included. My husband’s business is rather slow to say the least, but I’m thankful we continue to stay in the black, as opposed to many of our counterparts who aren’t even in the game anymore.

We’re fortunate that I have a great job, receive a pretty adoption stipend, and that I know how to budget up the wazoo. It’s never easy to feed a family of six, all of them hearty eaters, but we make it work. Determination is always a plus.

Sure, we’re lucky enough to manage but every now and then, like when a car unexpectedly needs work done or your son comes home with a lacrosse registration demanding $500 payment, it’s a challenge not to scream, or beat somebody up, or incite some other grand measure of self destruction to express my frustration or mask my desperation. Read more…

Mission take-some-extra-rolls-home

December 17, 2010 2 comments

I’m so cheap…it costs a ton to feed my family of seven at home, even moreso when we eat out, so we frequent buffets. More bang for your buck, I say.

One afternoon we went to a Golden Corral where the rude waitress proceeded to seat us in the big family, ergo ghetto who-gives-a-crap about them, section. I was mortified. The area was tucked in a corner and hidden by dividers. Other people’s children were running around playing tag and dirty plates were piled up on tables without a busser in sight, but we were hungry so we stuck around.

I spent the rest of the hour complaining about nasty this, nasty that, ghetto here and there, blah, blah, blah. At some point my husband turned to me and told me to shut up.

“You’re the ghetto-est of them all, babe,” he accused.

“WHAT,” I retorted, “you better take that back,” I demanded.

“No,” he stood firm, “I know what you’ve been doing for the last ten minutes.”

I fidgeted in my seat uncomfortably. “I’m not doing anything,” I refuted.

“Yes, you are. Open your purse,” he directed.

“NO.”

“I bet you don’t want to. You have a bunch of sticky buns and rolls in your purse, I know you do.”

“I only took one or two,” I replied defensively.

“No, babe, you took eight and you’ve been putting them in ziplock bags that I know you brought from the house.”

Mission take-some-extra-rolls-home foiled! Darn it.

“Babe, you’re sticking $0.50 rolls in the $1000 Burberry bag I bought you. Are you crazy? I’m not buying you anymore nice purses if you’re just going to use them to hide stolen food.”

Pouting and reluctant, I surrendered and pulled the giant ziploc bag of rolls out of my purse, tossing them on the table.*

Suffice to say, I no longer steal rolls from buffets..at least not in front of my husband.

*By the way, on our way out I did grab the ziploc bag and stuck it in my jacket. Waste not, want not..

Definitely not a Prince Charming

December 3, 2010 9 comments

This morning, as we waited to drive around the gi-normous moving truck hindering a quarter of the block, we watched a new family move their things into our old neighbors’ house.

“What happened,” my husband asked, “where’d they go?”

“They got divorced this past summer,” I reminded him, “she took the boys and moved to Wyoming, he went to Florida.”

“Divorce, huh? Hhmmm.”

My son, who was best friends with one of their sons, sat in the back seat and fiddled with his backpack. We all shared an awkward and unplanned moment of silence for another marriage that’s dissolved into that ever growing group of “tried but just couldn’t make it work” couples.

Believe me, I’m not judging. God knows I’ve been there. I have an ex -husband. I’ve been a single parent before and it’s exhausting, physically and mentally. I’ve even separated from my current husband a few times over the last decade and a half. Marriage is trying, but being divorced has its own demons, too.

I can’t imagine, nor do I want to, starting a new life alone after it feels like you already spent twenty years building it with someone else. I know this happens all the time, it’s a fact of life, and I do believe people deserve to be happy, even if that means you need to be alone, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me telling you the idea of divorce still makes me sad.

My marriage is far from perfect, in fact, at the stage we’re in now, some might even call us unconventional. I’ll refrain from providing details, and no, not because it’s too terrible for print. Lets just say we’re not as close as we used to be.

After a decade of cinematic worthy drama; recovering from the stupidity of our early twenties, sustaining the overwhelming process of starting a business together, praying through the scary times, screaming and throwing things through the worst, it never occurred to me that marriage not only has to learn to survive drama, it also has to withstand things that seem as menial as boredom! Good God, who knew?! I sure didn’t.

Most of the marriages I’ve watched while growing up, including my parents’, either ended in divorce or carry on only to live out a nasty cycle of self destruction. Suffice to say, I didn’t have the best models of relationships to learn from. In fact, I held off on marrying my current husband until we’d already had all our kids and bought our first house, all because I  didn’t believe a sanctity of marriage existed. (For those of you who follow my blog, but, of course, how else would  *ss backwards Maria do it?)

I grew up thinking that marriage was a farce and happiness a delusion and for a long time I dubbed anyone who believed in either or both, weak. No, I am not kidding. That’s how deluded I was, I thought everyone else was the idiot. Actually, it’s probably more accurate to say that’s how f*cked up I was.

Fortunately, twenty years later, I think I’ve finally figured it out, at least I’m in the process of. So my marriage isn’t perfect, I probably couldn’t trade my kids off if I offered a money back guarantee, our family is dysfunctional to say the least, but we all love each other, in our own screwy ways. A close friend once told me that my house was the only place she’d ever been where chaos and yelling was a sign that all was well. I took it as a compliment.

I know now that there is such a thing as happiness and some of us are lucky enough to find marriages that do work more often than they don’t. They’re not wrapped up pretty like they were on The Brady Bunch or The Cosby Show. They look more like the blue collared couple, Dan and Roseanne Connor; slightly overweight, fatigued, bearing equally sharp tongued children, and living in a less than sparkly clean house with a mortgage payment that kicks their *sses. That’s us, but we’re also happy.

On my husband’s best day he resembles nothing near a Prince Charming, not even a second rate boot leg, but even on his worst day, I’ve never wanted anything more than him. Maybe that’s the key to how we’ve made it thus far. On a list of pros and cons, even on the days when it’s a narrow split of 49-51 in favor of, we’d still rather be together than apart and for that, I’m blessed.

Happy Turkey Day! Gobble, gobble

November 25, 2010 2 comments

It’s only seven o’clock but after polishing off 15 pounds of turkey and two pumpkin pies my entire family, dogs included, has already passed out in the living room. I’m sure you’re thinking precious, right? No, not really, they actually look like a bunch of beached whales, but still, for this I’m thankful.

For my dysfunctional family, for the feast my husband spent five hours preparing while he got drunk, for a job and a business that continue to pay (most of) the bills, for a year full of more good memories than bad, for having good friends and family, for readers who actually like my blog enough to read it, and for anything and everything else God’s blessed me with, big or small. I’m thankful for it all.

From my family to yours, may you always know the full value of what you have waiting for you at home.
Happy Thanksgiving!!

A Mother’s Declaration

November 23, 2010 2 comments

Life is good, but it can also be very, very trying. You’ll often find yourselves at crossroads that will surely test your judgment and confidence. Sometimes you’ll choose the path laden with smooth stones and simple turns. Those will be the days filled with more good times than bad. Other times you’ll choose the road less traveled. This is where you’ll learn what you’re made of. Life is filled with choices and when you’re in the moment it’s so hard to know if you’re making the right ones. Strive to make decisions that you can be proud of, that reflect who you are and what you stand for.

Remember the golden rule. Treat others as you want to be treated, not how they treat you. This is difficult, I know. People can be terrible and cruel. You mustn’t reciprocate that. How people treat you is their karma, but how you react is yours.

Dream big and don’t be afraid to fail. The world is filled with people who stay confined to the limits set before them. Fear can do that to you. Don’t be one of those people. Live your life with a perseverance to survive and succeed despite the challenges you face. Nothing worth having has ever been easy, but I assure you the taste of success is sweeter when you’ve worked that much harder. You can be as big as you want to be, the possibilities are endless. Your father and I believe in all of you and the potential you possess. Believe in yourself.

Inevitably you will make some mistakes. You’re not perfect and no one should expect you to be, including yourself. Create a compass of your triumphs and misfortunes, a means of understanding what works for you and what doesn’t, but never let either conclude you. Victories can be short lived and tragedies can ruin you only if you allow them to.

Be grateful for everything, however big or small. We’re not guaranteed anything in this life except the air we breathe, but through the grace of God we are blessed with opportunities to make better lives for ourselves and those around us. It’s up to you to recognize those chances. Remember that when you feel you have nothing or no one, you have yourself.

Our family has been fortunate to been able to provide you with material possessions and amenities that have suited to make your lives comfortable. We are neither rich nor poor. Many people have more than us, but far more have less. I don’t regret living in a nice house or filling it with pretty things. I believe in enjoying the dollar you earn, but I hope I’ve raised you well enough to distinguish the difference in values we place on objects verses people. People are what matter, not things. Don’t forget that. When you die you can’t take things with you, but the memories you foster with family and friends are everlasting. If you lose someone you love that new BMW or diamond necklace will do little to comfort you. Be mindful of what you cherish and who you don’t.

We are all born into varying cultures, religions, and families that influence us and have the propensity to carve circles around us. Often these circles are intended to protect us, but more frequently they hold us down. You’ve been shaped by our family that loves you, groomed by our social and ethnic cultures, and blessed by our religion that has handed you down its own values and beliefs, but you and you alone must be the one to define yourself. Stay true to you. Always. You are unique and that is what makes you special. Don’t let anyone tell you who you are or who you shouldn’t be, not even me. Embrace yourself for your differences even if it feels like everyone is telling you otherwise.

I have tried to instill the significance of your relationships with one another. Friends are wonderful, but blood will always be thicker than water, at least in this family. You’ll grow up, move on, go to college, and meet new people. The changes in your life will be constant. You’ll find a better job to replace the old one. You’ll lose touch with friends and make new ones. New loves will become past loves. Throughout it all, your brothers and sisters will always be there. That will not change. Your relationships with one another are forged by childhood memories, the secrets only a sibling could know, and just in knowing that neither time nor distance could ever break the familial thread that link the four of you together.

I know that your father and I have made dozens of mistakes while raising you all, mostly unintentional. Maybe by the time you read this we’ll have made a dozen more. I beg you to forgive us our indiscretions and not just for us, but for you. Throughout your life people will hurt you, betray you, sometimes with malice, other times with ignorance. Forgive them all, no matter the immensity of their offense. Nothing good comes from a grudge harbored from deep within. Anger only serves to feed hate and resentment, both of which lead to self destruction. You must will yourselves to be bigger than that.

And if I haven’t told you enough, I’ve always known you were great. Don’t allow yourself to be labeled by your paycheck, your job title, the college you did or didn’t go to, your social class, the color of your skin, the clothes you wear, or even your physical beauty. These are not the things that matter. Your greatness resides in the goodness in your hearts, in the way you treat people, the compassion and tolerance you offer them, the inner strength that gets you through the most challenging occasions, the ferocity with which you face your utmost fears, and the effort you put into your own lives.

Wherever you are, whoever you become I know all of you will make me proud. Borne of my blood and nurtured with the potency of my love, all of you were destined to deliver nothing less than brilliance to this world.

When did I get this pathetic?

November 22, 2010 2 comments

This past weekend I caught one of the dogs trying to mount the other and after I shooed them off of one another, they each shot me a dirty look as if to say “Don’t hate just because we have healthy sex lives.”

Hmmm…I wonder if God finds it funny that my dogs are now getting some more often than I do?

He wears his sunglasses at night..and everywhere else..

My husband is driving me nuts. I can’t get him to take off his sunglasses. He wears them everywhere; in the house, in the car, in the club, in the dark, on the boat, at night, in restaurants. WTF? I’m beginning to think he thinks they give him superpowers. A brand whore at that, he’s proclaimed himself a sunglass connoisseur.

If he doesn’t cut it out by the time we’re 6o, I’m not going to sit beside him at the retirement home. He better find himself some too old groupie to do that.

Cruise Escapades

November 5, 2010 1 comment

First impression..why are there more Filipino workers on this boat than there are Filipinos in all of Austin? I kept expecting some guest to ask me for fresh towels or to take their order. And why does this ship resemble a 1970’s casino?

Gayribbean…no, I did not make that word up. While I was booking the cruise I was so concerned with affordability I didn’t realize I had booked us on a Gayribbean Cruise. That was the official name. A few hundred gay guys…I’m from San Francisco so it actually took me two days to notice. All good, it wasn’t a bad thing.

Eye candy…I seemed to serve as the eye candy for a lot of the black men on board and in some cruel circle of a joke many of the gay men served as my eye candy.

On using the bathroom…the first time we heard a ship toilet flush

one of the girls was supposed to be taking a shower. It’s a scary sound and we had no idea what it was. I had to send in my oldest son to make sure his sister didn’t get swallowed up by the ship.

Sail and Sign card…the ship ran cashless so you had to charge everything to your room key/Sail and Sign card which was linked to your credit card. My husband was so excited in the first 3o hours he spent $156.00 on drinks for himself. I took away his Sail and Sign card the second night and told him to find another way to be that happy.

Silly things we find amusing…while watching the girls swim on the boat my husband and I watched a four year old boy, who weighed an easy 70 plus pounds, go down the five foot tall mini waterslide at least three dozen times. Each time he slid down the entire front row of sunbathers would get drenched. His oblivious mother kept egging him on once more.

Hairy man contest…this was a real event. There’s nothing like watching heavy and hairy middle aged men, to be exact; a plumber, an A/C guy, an IT manager, and a UPS driver, gyrate shirtless to Dancing Queen by ABBA.

Hip hop dance class..throw on a jumpsuit, wear a pair of Adidas shoes with the fat laces, chew gum from the right side of your mouth, say you’re from Puerto Rico and voila! You have a certified cruise hip hop dance instructer.

Meeting people when you’re drunk…my husband’s first night on the boat he met a guy named Ted. They chatted it up, ran into one another several times, and we actually spent a day in Cozumel with him. It wasn’t until the third day he finally told my husband, “My name is actually Tay, not Ted. I didn’t realize I would end up hanging out with you so much so I didn’t bother correcting you, but I figured if you wanted to keep in touch you should probably know my real name.”

Catamaran sailing..on an excursion in Mexico we were provided with free unlimited margaritas, although they were completely watered down. Caught in the moment, I let my son have his first sip of alcohol. Just as he was taking a sip we passed another boat full of nude people. There was my fourteen year old sipping a margarita and looking at several sets of breasts and then some….talk about walking him into manhood. I tried to get him to close his eyes but he was not trying to hear me one bit.

Afterthought…being on a Carnival cruise line is a lot like being at a week long party on a vessel that resembles Circus Circus with lots of drunk people. We had a ton of fun, but next time around I’m saving up for a Disney cruise. It might be more family friendly.

Why does it look like that?

October 25, 2010 7 comments

There’s nothing like buying a new pair of jeans to force you to realize what a fat *ss you’ve become. You find yourself standing in front of the neatly folded piles of jeans for at least ten minutes before you even reach for a pair.

Skinny jeans, boot leg, slight flare, dark wash, acid rinse. So many choices but all you’re concerned with is what size you should be reaching for. You want to grab the 5/6 but realize that’s the size you wish you were, so you start to reach for a 7/8 but remember you haven’t been that size for a few years, so now you start looking for a 9/10 but it’s on the top shelf and you have to ask a salesperson to help you.

Now it feels like a small production because the salesperson has to use a ladder to get your jeans and you start to think, “What if I’m wrong? What if I’m actually an 11/12 now? ” You don’t want to have ask the salesperson for help twice because then you’ll be pegged as one of those women in denial about your size. So in your most nonchalant voice you say to him, “You know, while you’re up there do you mind grabbing an 11/12 for me?” while doing your best not to let on just how much it hurts you to admit that out loud.

Finally with six pairs of jeans tucked under my arm I head off to the dreaded dressing room, where I think women do more self reflection than trying on clothes. I mean, why is it that the lighting in those rooms reveal parts of your body in a way that you just never notice when you’re in front of your own bathroom mirror? You’d think a retail store would want to encourage purchases by using lighting that compliment the shapely figure of all women, not just the perfectly shaped ones. Try dimmer lights Abercrombie!

Note to self: Start an average to plus size woman’s coalition against the inventors of those terrible dressing room lights.

I’ve learned to avoid looking in the dressing room mirror until I’m completely dressed, but out of regretful curiosity that day, I peeked behind my shoulder just as I was sliding the jeans over my buttocks. What a bad idea. All I could think was, “What happened? Why does my butt look like that? It looks so…deflated? And when did it drop? It used to be so damn perky.’

By the time I left the third store empty handed I was tempted to walk into a store that sold those new jeans claiming to enhance your *ss. Of course, after all I’d already put myself through mentally I couldn’t envision walking up to the bored looking sales kid and asking him to point me in the direction of the butt lifting jeans.

*Sigh* One hour later, still no jeans, and all the kids and hubby are blast texting me. I’m having a mid life crisis and all they care about is what time we’re meeting for dinner.