About Me

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Mother. Seeker of kind gestures and kind humans. Frequently inspired and sassy by nature. Lover of love. Always making mountains out of my molehills.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Play

 One hot day this past summer, I was in our pool with my three daughters. We had snacks and drinks, kidz bop 24 was blasting from a speaker, and we were splashing each other and laughing. There was this moment where I was floating on my back, their squeals momentarily muted by the water in my ears, and I suddenly thought, "This is my job. I get to play all day." And I felt really, really lucky. I also thought "why don't I do this more often?" Because if I am being honest, I really don't. Because the truth is, I have forgotten how amazing it is to play. And what's more, I have forgotten how to let myself play.
There are very few jobs in life that offer so much opportunity to play as being a parent. My kids present me with fun and chances to play on a silver platter every single day. Like the way that they laugh when I spill something on the floor, trying to turn something annoying into something funny. Or the way they make a goofy monster face at me when I am trying to put on their shirt, attempting to make me smile in my very serious rush to get them dressed in the morning. And especially in the times when I am in such a hurry to do everything else that I forget to really see them, and they ask, "Mommy, will you play with me?"
 I am ashamed to say that more often than not, I turn my nose up at their offers. Their laughter over my spill is muffled by my exasperated sigh, the monster face is ignored because I can't be slowed down, and the words I secretly dread hearing are shoved aside by my own words of "not right now," or "maybe later." And later rarely comes. So I have begun to hear the question less and less from them. Among their many other qualities, kids are adaptable. And they know that mommy doesn't play.
But why?
Why is it so hard for me to embrace this magical gift that parenthood has brought me?
Because of course, being a parent is much more than swimming and playing. There is food to make, and floors to clean, errands to run, baths to give, tantrums to manage among countless other things. Any parent can attest to the fact that all of these things can at times (or all the time) feel pretty damn overwhelming. And the way to feel like you have some kind of control is to stay on top of it. Running a household ain't no joke, yo. Its very easy to get into the "I need to get shit done" mentality. Playing is often the last thing on our minds, and the thing that is the easiest to put on the backburner with 17 loads of dirty laundry, a growing sink of dishes, and grocery store trips breathing down our necks. And before we know it, we are stuck in the cycle of that mentality, clinging to our time-lines and to-do lists, so fearful that if we turn our attention to something else even for a moment, the structure of our lives will crumble at our feet. Playing is one of those things that require us to stop what we are doing and connect. With us so tied to holding all the grown-up stuff together, it becomes easier and easier to write play off as something that is for kids to do, and not for us adults to be bothered with, with so much responsibility on our plates as it is. But here's the thing:
Play is also our responsibility.
It is our responsibility to our children, and it is our responsibility to ourselves. Play is the way our children get us to be on their level. So often they are expected to take part in our very adult world. We tell them to listen, to sit still, to wash up and get dressed and have good manners and do their homework. All things that are important for them in our world. But isn't it only fair, isn't it equally important for us to show that we want to be a part of their world? In turn, by  entering into their silly world full of laughter and imagination, we allow ourselves to reconnect with joy.  The both boundless and simple joy that comes from deep inside our inner being. Play is the way our children get us, in our most raw and wonderful form. It is the way that we show them they hold just as much importance as any errand or chore around the house, and it is the way that we show ourselves the same thing. Play is the way that we teach them there is more to life than checking off tasks on a to-do list. And sometimes we teach them by letting them teach us to remember how to play.
I am still learning from these little teachers I was given. Some days are rough, and I find myself stuck in the daily grind. But I always know that at any moment I have the choice to turn it around with a monster face and a few magic words....
"Hey guys, wanna play?" 

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

The Feast

I can smell what is inside before I can hear it or see it. I get out of my car, gathering my things, and walk towards the home that holds such treasure inside. My tastebuds are giddy in anticipation, for they know the joy they are about to experience. I open the door and step inside the house, and I am greeted first by the aroma. It wraps its arms around me, its embrace warm and familiar. In it, years of memories the bitter mixing with the sweet. Celebrations and births and deaths and holidays all swirling together into one recognizable scent. I sweep my eyes over the freshly ironed tablecloth, always different than the one before, barely visible beneath the heavy plates and bowls and serving dishes that nearly cover its entire surface. Baskets rest on each end of the table filled with huge, ripe bunches of mint and basil, long, vibrant clusters of green onions, large leaves of cilantro and scatters of fat, crunchy radishes. Near each basket of fresh greens sit large bowls of salad, each a different kind. One with romaine lettuce, large chunks of tomato, cucumber and red onion. The other a broccoli slaw dripping with a lemon and olive oil dressing. Both filled to the brim and nearly overflowing. Small bowls of tangy, plain yogurt, spoons sticking out of them, sit ready to be used. Chunks of tender beef nearly falling apart in their own juices rest on a large platter, surrounded by garnishes of cooked baby carrots and onion. An even larger platter holds fat pieces of chicken piled high on top of each other. They are a deep yellow, smothered in the oily saffron sauce they have simmered in all day. Piles of flat lavash bread are on every corner of the table, surrounded by thick pieces of just baked golden brown bread with sesame seeds sprinkled  on top, and next to them are small plates of freshly pickled vegetables, fat olives, and fresh slices of white onion. The center of the table holds the biggest and grandest dish of all, piled high with steaming, fragrant  basmati rice, tossed with fresh chopped herbs and plump fava beans. Melting pads of butter drip through every grain and crevice, and my mouth begins to fill with water, knowing that in a few short moments I will sit down to devour this magnificent feast in front of me. 

This is a Tuesday night dinner at my in-law's. 

Sunday, April 12, 2015

All Consuming


So here I am, sharing my piece on stage! I'm still working on getting up there without my crutch (phone)...I'll get there one day. This one means a lot to me, because its something I know a lot of us struggle with, and shit...I wish we didn't. 




I am so consumed with my 
consumption
I look at this body in the mirror and I see 
all that it should be 
all that it is not
guilt
shame
disgust
at all I have just consumed
The food that is meant to sustain me
Has begun to restrain me 
My drug of choice
Regretting and wishing away 
wishing for more of this and less of that
consuming these thoughts like a hungry child on the street
eating them up by the spoonful
heaping spoonful after spoonful
leaving me
sick
and full
of more
disgust
and regret
and shame
Telling myself, like any faithful addict
that tomorrow will be different
Its a new day
a new dawn
Time to get it right once and for all
because I am not
happy
living this way
seeing this way
eating this way
I am consumed with consuming
And you see
food is not the only thing I am consuming too much of
Self-hate is not the only thing I am consuming too much of
You see
I am gobbling down bullshit
spoonful by heaping spoonful
Messages wired into my brain
that looking like this is NOT
and looking like that IS
Proclamations of self-love sprinkled in
but ONLY if you look like that
I am full to exploding
consuming what I should not consume.
I am sick and TIRED
of being instructed to applaud 
plus size models who are a size 4 rather than a size
nothing
I am full
I am SICK
of the beauty industry being so fucking UGLY
Consumed with sorrow at the fact that it has built itself on the breaking backs
of  already beautiful women
and their insecurities
and their
uncertainties
their self-loathing tendencies
reinforced by society
as we consume more and more and more
endlessly more
Surgeries and creams
diets
pills powder
and machines
Implants and extensions
fillers
injections
lipstick and blush and nails and wax
trainers and treadmills and sucking out
fat
Highlight this and downplay that
Because don't you know?
We are not a complete package we are the sum of our parts
parts that need fixing and replacing and
fine-tuning
Parts that are objects
Parts that are things
Parts we must pick at and prod at and change 
Parts that must consume
In order to become
just right.
And you see. 
I'm told that I'm in need. 
Im told I'm not yet complete. 
Im told to consume more 
In order to BE more. 
And this consumes me with fucking anger!
That all these years I've been Tricked into believing the lie that I need to be something other than what I am 
Just to be SOMETHING in this world. 
I'm angry that I have spent so long consuming all the wrong things 
trying to fill up something that was already full to begin with. 
I am angry that my 3 magnificent and perfectly created daughters live in a world that will undoubtedly tell them otherwise
Angry that my 8 year old has come home crying because classmates called her fat 
And she believed them. 
And angry at myself because who am I to tell her otherwise when she sees the way, I, her own mother looks in the mirror 
With such all-consuming 
Disgust 
Regret 
Shame
At all I continue to consume. 
But you see
All of this consuming is 
contradicting 
what my heart tells me 
you see 
What my heart tells me is that I am ALREADY  whole. 
That there is no hole 
Inside of me 
Nothing broken that needs fixing
Nothing missing that needs finding
Nothing lacking that needs more 
Consuming. 
My heart tells me what the magazines will not 
What the TV will not 
What my own eyes in the mirror will not. 
That I am beautiful  just like this
That the wrinkles by my mouth mean I laugh all the time 
That the fat on my stomach means I consume good food and drink good fucking wine 
That these breasts may be lower than this world wants them to be 
But these bad asses nourished 3 human beings
That I am worth more than mountains of gold
That I am an amazing sight to behold
My heart tells me the truth even when I'm reluctant to hear it. 
So you can have everything else back, cuz I ain't consuming
shit. 
























Sunday, March 22, 2015

The Mom


I am the mom who cleans messes off of her kids faces with her saliva 
I know, I know...
I never thought that would be me, never thought it would come to that 
But sometimes us moms are in a hurry man! 
We gots to clean that little brat
And yes I am the mom who at time refers to her kids with that word
But not to their face, silly goose
That would be absurd! 
And in addition to calling them brats I am the mom who has a thousand other ways 
That attempt to explain this feeling I have for them 
to let them know how loved they are every single day
Hugs and kisses and squeezes and squishes
I love you's and I adore you's and really listening to what they say
Explaining that they are special and letting them know that they are always ok
Just the way they are
That they will always be enough 
That my support is unconditional even when the days seem unbearably rough

I am the mom who drives a mini-van around town.
In my wildest dreams I'd never think thats how I'd get down.
Shuffling kids around to soccer and dance and school
The suburban cliche mom clinging to what is left of being cool 
But seriously what is cooler than a car with sliding doors?
I could fit a traveling circus in that thing.
I really couldn't ask for more. 
I am the mom with tired circles under her eyes
From the early morning risings, to the middle of the night cries. 
I am also the mom who has had some of the best moments of her life, 
bonding with innocence and joy in the middle of the night

I am that mom who looks at herself in the mirror 
Seeing where it used to be thinner there and how it's too big here 
This part sticks out too much and that part didn't used to look like that 
The mom who tries on jeans too small and thinks ugh I'm so fat
But I am also the mom who reminds herself constantly 
That this is the body that gave life to 3 human beings 
And 2 of those are twins which in case you weren't aware means that at one point I had 2 people living in there 
2 people in there at the same time 
So really when it comes down to it, I'm the mom who is looking DAMN FINE 

I am the mom who admits that it's hard 
To raise human beings without leaving scars
I am the mom who is learning as she goes
The mom who isn't too proud to say that there are times I JUST DON"T KNOW
I am the mom who breaks down sometimes 
The mom who is not ashamed to let her children see her cry 
I am the mom who beats herself up for not always being on top of it
I forgot the snack I lost my cool 
That mom guilt, its some shit! 
Hey, I'm working on it.
But I am also the mom who is dedicated to her craft
The mom who will never stop giving and trying for those little brats
Because no matter how hard the days get and how long the nights may go
Not an instant goes by that I don't give thanks
For the wonderous blessing of those little souls.





Sunday, February 22, 2015

i Believe

When I say that I believe, don't make me feel ashamed. 

I believe in Love. 
Despite the popular trend, of wrapping hearts in barbed wire, refusing to let it in.
I believe in quiet love. Gentle love, the kind that fills the hidden cracks.
The love that lies in the subtleties of life, that wordlessly has your back. 
I believe in great grand sparkling love. Shouted from rooftops, danced in the street. 
The kind of love that jumps up demanding to be seen, the kind you feel to the tips of the toes on your feet.
I believe in stupid love, that blind love that is wreckless and without bounds.
 That love that is our greatest teacher, our wisest lesson, the kind we know we shouldn't but we miss when its not around. 
I believe in watching my children sleep kind of love, passing a stranger in the street kind of love, smiling at someone the first time you meet kind of love, passion that turns you into a freak kind of love.
And I believe in messy love. Clumsy, sloppy, awkward puppy love. The love that is unprepared, unafraid,  unashamed to be naive. 
With so much evidence of love around me, how could I not believe?

I believe in Magic,
The kind that makes people look at you funny. The type that when you brave to say it aloud, people shake their head like "awww honey."
I believe in the magic of the mystical. Fairies and angels and sprites. Frolicking on flowers, living in trees, appearing to children, having honey parties with bees. All the while marveling at how us humans are so damn UPTIGHT. 
I believe there is something else. Something so much more than this place.    
Aliens in space, God in Heaven. A limitless universe to embrace. 
I believe in the vibrations of energy,of crystals and sage. 
you know.. all of that "hippy shit."
that seems to be all the rage. 
believe in the power of meditation of prayer of your thoughts I believe in manifestation.
I believe in the magic of people. To do some extraordinary things.  
I believe in the natural born magic in all of us human beings.
I believe in the particular magic of kids, their unfiltered, untainted hope. I believe in the magic of their wisdom, their imaginations, their ability to lift us from the end of our rope. 
I believe in the magic of moments, those instants where it all just kind of fits. 
With so much of it bursting all around me, it's clear that magic is legit. 

I believe in kind gestures that no one will see, I believe in respecting even if you don't agree. 
I believe in allowing someone to drop on their ass. I believe that yes, this too shall pass. 
I believe a drink with a friend can be the solution. I believe a good cry can erase the hearts pollution. I believe in letting yourself be angry when your mad, I believe it's never as simple as its good or its bad. 
I believe in investing in good shampoo and pampering your hair and being polite and that life CAN be fair.
I also believe that life can suck and that's ok. Cuz I believe that if you LET yourself believe you will ALWAYS find your way. 

So when I say that I believe, I won't EVER feel ashamed.