Worst Day Ever!

We all have that day where you shout at the sky above like Nancy Kerrigan, "Why me?!" or declare you need to go back to bed. I experienced this full throttle last Saturday. I kept trying to look ahead but it just kept falling apart. When I look back to this weekend, it is certainly not something I wish to remember. Let me set the scene.

East county basketball tournament on Saturday. My communication neglected the location.I had not realized until "Where is the tournament" popped up on text, when our son should already be at the gym. Oh shit! Fortunately, I blocked certain words. The text messages received next read, "You are a Ducking moron" and "Where you dumb cubt", which were disturbing and amusing.  Word blocking on your phone works! I highly recommend it.

The upsetting part isn't the messages because I've grown numb to those. It was his instruction to the Dude to not speak to me and pulling him away in between games. I was so surprised, but I didn't pursue it because I didn't want to cause a scene. However, after the game I tried again to speak to him again, wanting to give him a hug and console a disappointing loss. My ex physically prevented me from hugging him with his arm. Before I was able to say more than, "You can't prevent me from speaking to him"; he turned and focused a verbal rage upon another parent. The whole scene escalated as my ex verbally attacked him and my own Dad for intervening. I could feel the whole gym watching. My eyes darted between the two men and the Dude's face. I still see his eyes wide-opened with fear.

My ex continues to alienate himself and therefore our son because of his actions. My ex spews hate and it catches up to him. He will continue to behave irrationally, and the Dude is the person who suffers. I am not even angry because it is heart-breaking to see the Dude's sweet face with a look of panic and fear; and not be able to protect him. I can't even hug him because he's with his father for the next week.

After that spectacular morning, I'm committed to holiday party and Cake concert. At least I have fun to look forward to. Right? Yeah, but remember it is worst day ever! I gathered myself and two bottles of wine, and make my way to a holiday party. Just before I'm ready to leave the party to pick up my friend, I get a serious of texts telling me the concert isn't going to happen because there is a mix-up with the guest list. I've had this concert on the books for nearly a month. I'm crushed, but still not broken. I rallied with amusing conversation and great company. Thank goodness I decided at 11th hour to go to this party, otherwise I would be at home alone. I guarantee you, it wouldn't be a pretty sight. I probably would have spent the evening therapeutically sobbing at episodes of "This is Us". Ordering pizza and feeling sorry for myself. Let's just say, I still sobbed at some made for Netflix show, just without the pizza because I arrived home later.

Sunday morning, I woke up refreshed. New day, right? Not done yet. If you lost count, misfortune occurs in threes. My neighbor walks up the sidewalk towards my door holding his bike chain. "They cut my chain and took my bike." he says. "You should probably move yours". Whew, thank goodness. My bike is still there. I get myself together, newly motivated to go for a bike ride, and head down to move my bike - except only the Dude's bike is there. Next to it is another old cruiser bike that the thieves decided to bestow upon me. How very nice of them. Yeah, it wasn't a good 24 hours for me. My Dad bought the bike for Christmas last year, didn't even last a year. People suck.

Still determined to not let horrible people break me, I decided Christmas shopping would be a good distraction. Except people still suck. Of course, as I sit in my car, signal flashing, having waited politely for nearly 3-4 minutes for a car to pull out of a spot, another woman stops facing opposite me, pulls into the newly vacated parking spot. REALLY???? I decided this is not okay. I waited for her to exit her car. After politely explaining I have been waiting for the spot, she says she was on that side of the aisle so it's her spot (seriously, this was her justification) and begins to walk away. I politely and loudly exclaimed, "You are so rude. You are a perfect example of what is wrong with our country" concluded with "Have a wonderful Christmas!"

It is all relative. In the bigger picture these are just small misfortunes. We still have our health. The Dude has a many loving family and friends who will make up for those less-able to do the right thing. What doesn't break you will make you stronger. Right? I had said this earlier to my Dad, but now what goes through my head (thank goodness for inside voice),"F*ck it. You better break me because if I can get up, I'm going to get up and break your nose."

My Holiday To-do List

Everyone has their holiday to-do list. Some of these are newly created, while others are long-standing family traditions. Here are the 10 things I do and why I do them.

1. Tree goes up the weekend after Thanksgiving. The process of pulling out ornaments bring back memories of picking them out and remembering people and places from times in the past.

2. Christmas lights viewing. We drive around in the car, loaded with Christmas music and drive around appreciating how much effort some folks make. We score the best and those who achieve risking peril in placing lights or Christmas props up high.

3. Christmas cookie baking. We've been baking Christmas cookies every season to share with people. What is better than sharing sweets with people?

4. We give stuff away. Christmas time is a perfect opportunity to access what we have loved, but no longer play, use or need. Giving things away clears space for some of the new stuff that will arrive (all you parents know what I mean). Even better, instead of buying toys, have you child select toys to give to other friends or other families that may have younger children. You child will feel the joy of giving and feel like Santa.

5. Advent Calendar. I purchased an advent with pockets when the Dude was in preschool. I fill it with love, little tokens and delicious chocolates. He always looks forward to opening them. In the past I've packed it with happy thoughts, promises to go ice skating or game nights. This is one of my favorite things to do.

6. I listen to Christmas music a much as possible. I change my car radio to the Christmas station. I love love love Christmas music.

7. We watch the Polar Express. Every single year. The Dude loves this movie and we make sure to drink hot coco during the song.

8. We go to December nights. Haven't missed a year since moving back in 2009. Now that he's older, we finish the evening by watching the production of The Christmas Story at the Organ Pavilion. If you haven't seen it before, I highly recommend it. Must do - stop at the Gingerbread house for hot coco and a gingerbread man cookie (or whichever cookie you like).

9. We open one Christmas "eve" present. This year the Dude got to open his last night because we're not together until Boxing Day (Dec. 26). This present is a pair of pajamas (usually). Since we were seeing Star Wars and today is pajama day at school, you can probably guess what sort of pajamas he received.

10. The family get together and meal. We're not doing "Christmas" or I suppose you can say we're delaying it. Of course presents will be exchanged, but part of me feels Christmas morning can't be delayed. So, we're doing a Boxing Day evening celebration. Yeah to being part Canadian!


The most important part of the to-do list? To remember what is important. It isn't presents. It is the feeling of giving. Giving your time, your love and your full attention to those who matter most to you. People move away, leave us permanently and kids grow older the magic fades. Whatever is on your list, remember to enjoy these moments and to pass along what is most important to you. For me, it is love. I wish everyone feels more love in 2018. Happy Christmas to you and yours!

Right or Wrong? Does it Matter?

Let's be clear. Most of time I'm not wrong when disagreements arise in my co-parenting universe. Notice I didn't say I was right, I said I wasn't wrong. I do believe both can be right. After all, parenting is a wide-open field with several paths to get through it. Some people like to take the paved sidewalk, others may want to pick wild flowers and meander through at a leisurely pace, and others want to fly right over because they could careless about wild flowers.

Parenting with my ex is challenging. We agree on very little. These differences added to the existing and on-going communication challenges make co-parenting very difficult. Even-though I want nothing to do with him, I do put forth effort to communicate and co-parent. I have friends in similar situations. Just like those parents who stay together, we're individuals with our own experience, personality and opinion. We don't agree and that is okay, but not trying to do our best to work with the other parent is not okay.

The hardest challenge I'm facing is the Dude's own life and activities being supported consistently by parent while they are on-duty. For example, the Dude plays baseball. His father decides he would rather not take him to his game on his weekend. He didn't agree to the league. There could be other reasons; but what can one do to come to a resolution when each believes they are right?

I've reflected the last few months on how better to deal with this issue. He certainly knows a lot about baseball. Do I leave him to decide all things baseball because he knows more about the sport of baseball? Well, I don't. Should I? Does not having played a the sport disqualify a parent from their right to opinion on participating? Certainly not. I have as much experience in participating in youth sports as he does. It comes down to the kid. He's at the age where he can express himself and he's decided he wants to play in our community league. The Dude loves baseball. He loves playing with his friends and battling them in the box. Rehashing game moments during the school day. So, we will continue down this path and register for another season. The hope is his dad fully supports the activity, but only time can tell. When dealing with someone who tends to put their own feelings before what is best for a child - we can only wait and hope.

I get kudos for how I interact with my ex, but I shouldn't. I'm doing the right thing. I'm doing the best thing for the dude. I shouldn't get kudos for it. We're all trying to do the right thing, and from his dad's perspective, he's trying to do the right thing as well. Only the dude loses when we can't work together. It isn't about being right. Good parenting doesn't comes down to being right. Sometimes it comes down to being happy (read When Quitting is the Right thing to do).  Weighing all the positives and negatives to come up with the decision that makes the most sense.

In a couple of years the Dude is going to be old enough to have more autonomy. I hold onto this as a short-term milestone to get through the disappointment and conflict. Sooner or later, it will not be me fighting. He will be able to determine his own path (within reason). I'm not gonna lie, I hold onto this on the days where I just want to scream and cry out from frustration.

Also, I've always been a strategic thinker, so I keep my eye on the long-term goal. The long-term goal isn't a MLB career or college baseball (although I support the Dude's long-term goal), but for him to look back on his childhood with fondness. My long-term goal is to know I did my best to do what was best for him. We choose to try (knowing sometimes we fall short) or not. In those moments when I want to curse out my ex and tell him what I really think of him or his choices, I let this be my guide. I don't want to let his father's inability to co-parent or our dislike for one another to negatively influence my behavior or change my decision-making. I hope for the best, while empowering the Dude to always respectfully express his wants and desires. I will have to sit and wait; and hope and see what happens over the next few months. Only time will tell.

My Hero

A few weeks ago I was reviewing a stack of papers pulled from the Dude's backpack. On the table, my eyes spotted a piece of type-written work. It was titled, "My Hero". I saw the word "Mom" written on it, so (of course) I picked it up to read it.

The Dude warns me, "that's my draft. I repeat myself a lot". Do I care if he repeats himself? Depends on what is writes I suppose. However, a good speech writer repeats their theme and message many times to ensure the audience walks away remembering what was said. I start reading. I read again. The misspellings are bothersome and sweet at the same time. He does repeat himself. Apparently the message is that I'm cool, so I find it difficult to criticize his repetitiveness.

Half-way through I'm crying. By the end of the last sentence, I'm sobbing. Loudly. I'm sobbing like the family dog just died. My Dude is sitting at the kitchen table with his shirt off, working on an assignment on the laptop. I'm standing on the opposite side of the table, reading the paper for a third time with tears streaming down my face. By now I'm sure you've guess that the assignment was to write about your hero. The Dude choose to write about me which is humbling. Most of us don't think of ourselves as heroes. In typical parenting response, we just do what we have to do. We don't have a choice. If we don't do it, who does? This is the working real definition of parent.

Afterward, I gave him a big hug and said thank you. His response was bewildered questioning, "Are you okay Mom?" I took a minute to compose myself, before explaining the happiness of my tears .

I started, "As a parent we don't know how we are doing. When you are older and a Dad, you'll understand better what I mean. Today, you gave me the best present. No one could have said it better." I continued, "Maybe I'm doing okay as a Mom."

Isn't this the hardest part of parenting? We don't know how we are doing. I'm far from parenting perfection. I have moments when I over-react and raise my voice too quickly, and my criticism isn't given constructively. Besides keeping our kids alive, we don't know if what we are doing will help them be successful, happy and want us around when they don't need us any longer for their survival.

I'm going to frame it. I plan to show it to him to remind him that he once thought I was "pretty cool" when he's a grumpy teenager. I'm kidding (or am I)? I'm going to keep it to remind myself that the doubts and insecurity I feel as a parent do not equal the reality of my parenting. My mantra on parenting: parent with conviction, honesty, love, compassion and my best effort (which some days isn't much). I will have moments of failure but I shall never be a failure.




Footnote **I've debated on posting the written work, but I've decided that it is special in it's imperfect sweetness and I am going to keep it private. I have a feeling that this entire blog and it's intimate details will be horrifying enough to a teenager someday. 

Oh Happy Tidings?!

I narrowly avoided a rather large calamity on the co-parenting holiday schedule front. I mixed up the Thanksgiving week schedule. Oh, all the things that I nearly did and averted only because flight times were not ideal. I would have bought tickets for the Dude and I to fly somewhere for days that I wouldn't have had him (and they would have been non-refundable because those are the best prices); or I nearly made plans to be away for Thanksgiving (when I would have had him) and eaten up the price of those tickets. Whew, luckily neither occurred due to timing and/or indecision. Can you imagine?

So, now I'm recovering and happily planning a Thanksgiving feast. My whole outlook has adjusted because for the last several months all I've been able to consider is that I will not have the Dude during the holidays. Of course his father deserves holiday time with him as well, but up until this year he's always been with me Christmas morning. I planned Santa's gift and evidence of his visit. We have Christmas traditions like matching pajamas, and family visits in the morning. Christmas morning isn't the same without children, and since he's been born I haven't known anything else. I love Christmas. I love the sentimentality of being with family and watching kids open their present in sugar-induced excitement. It was safe to say, I was feeling Scrooge-like and ready to ba-humbug my way through the holidays; and I was starting with Thanksgiving. I was angry at the insensitivity of the judge whose reply to my proposal to split up Christmas Eve and Christmas was, "He'll have two Christmases".

"Kids who believe in Santa don't have two Christmases" I internally rebutted.

My dream would be for neither parent to miss Christmas because it is special, but it isn't going to happen. I'm not sure I could put aside the terribleness of my ex to afford him an invitation (although in the past I had a couple of times); nor would he ever invite me. The reality of the situation as it is, must be like many of families during this time of year. It sucks. I'm sure whichever parent is without their kids during these holidays feel deprived. Perhaps it isn't a divorce, but a deployment. I know several families that will be apart during Christmas, and I'm sure they feel sad for missing out on the warmth of the season.

Snapping out of my self-described pity party has forced me to make a mental adjustment. I get to kick off Christmas by setting up our tree the day after Thanksgiving. The Dude is going to be with me to kick off the advent calendar; trimming the tree, and will be with me until the 15 of December. And for the next three weeks we're going to love the shit out of the holiday season. We're gonna do December nights, search for some cold weather and make cookies. When he comes back on the evening of the 26th, we're going to open presents and spend the next week celebrating the end of 2017 and another great year. I'm going to appreciate the time, rather than feel sorry for missing out because being a parent isn't about you. It is about your kid and doing what is best for them.

Happy Holidays!

Mom Guilt

This upcoming weekend is a long weekend, but I haven't made any plans to do anything. It isn't that I don't want to do anything, but I am in a blue state of mind (and I'm not talking about my political leanings).  The Dude spends the weekend per custody agreement with his father. Of course, it is important for him to spend time with his father. In our custody agreement we alternate the weekends. Standard co-parenting practice.

Alas, this brings us back to making no plans for the weekend. I make the most of these weekends, doing some shopping, cleaning and all those errands that sit for weeks. I appreciate the solitude of being alone. The quiet pace of following my instincts. Netflix marathons, making an omelette for breakfast and shopping for hours. Whatever I feel like doing. I'm not preoccupied, nor concerned about feeding a growing nine-year-old. Don't even ask me what I eat, but sometimes it is a bowl of cereal. It isn't single life, but it is become a way for me to balance my needs and individual desires. I started running races. I KNOW! 

In my village, I watch my friends and peers struggle every day with the balance of life. Running the kids to birthday parties, sports commitments and family time. I'm not even talking about school and work. Trying to find time for their interests, doctor appointments or exercise can be very difficult. Then the emotional weight women feel for taking the time for themselves. We have a name for it. Mom guilt. We volunteer at school, we transport our kids to various activities, we shop, make lunches, make dinner, help with homework and reading, we email, text and make time for our girl posse. Let's not forget those who bake. I love baking, but it seems like I can't get started until 8pm, which means I'm up until midnight or it becomes a two-day event. Or doesn't happen at all. Some of us may work outside of the home, and others kick ass without going to an office. BUT, we're all Moms doing the best we can. My village is wonderful. I have an amazing clan of women who make me laugh, help me through my tears, and sometimes kidnap me for an evening out. Seriously, this happens.

It is interesting to be forced to send your child away. It is a forced kid-free time period. This freedom provides me with a Mom guilt-free time, and I learned a lot. I learned to embrace my identity that is both Mom but without child. I'm still The Dude's Mom, but I'm also Christina. I like watching Tarantino Movies, documentaries and eating a bowl of cereal for dinner because I only dirty two objects and I need not cook a thing! Cheese and crackers and shrimp cocktail are other go to favorites because the Dude wouldn't have it.

My point is that my forced time away, is not any different from my married friends who take similar time for themselves. There is no shame, there is no reason to feel guilt. We need to stop of the madness of being Mom 24/7, because whether or not we're mothering we'll always be Mom. We can take the night away, the weekend off and guess what - everyone will survive. Since when did the bar become so insane that women can't spend time for themselves? We need to show our kids how to parent, and how to balance family and self. It doesn't make you less of a Mom. Mom is quantity of time spent with our child, but the quality of time. It is why the movie Bad Moms resonated with so many women. So, plan that movie date to see Bad Moms 2; or take the weekend away.

I'll leave one last thought. We need to stop with the guilt gifting. You know I'm talking to you! Kids do not need a special activity because we decide to take time for ourselves. They do not need a present because you went away for the weekend. We shouldn't be obliged as an exchange for time away. Kids don't care, they will either be happy your back; or wish you took the night off again because Dad rocked it with take-away food and movie night. Alright ladies, go have fun and regret nothing.

Life Re-boot

Earlier in the week the dude woke up with a bloody nose. There we were, standing in the bathroom at 11 in the evening waiting for it to stop. He was grumpy and I was tired. To make matters worse, he was mad at me for letting him fall asleep before he was able to have ice cream for dessert. He had a fitfully awful night of sleep where he moaned, groaned and hit me multiple times. After hitting snooze a couple of times because I'm so tired, I nudge him to tell him it's time to wake up. Guess what, he is mad at me for allowing him to sleep in because he wanted to wake up earlier.

This afternoon I'm rehashing the story with my colleague, who responds, "you need a life re-boot" and continues, "you know most computer issues are solved with a re-boot, so should life".

What an amazing concept. Just how do we get a re-boot? I've read a lot and discussed with friends about 'self-care'. However, we can't just schedule a massage when we have a morning of meetings or kids meals to make and activities to shuttle them to and from. Is meditation the answer? Can I even take 5-10 minutes? I don't even get quiet time on the toilet, how is re-booting possible? I don't have the answer to this quandary yet, but I'm sure as heck gonna try to figure out a tactic that allows me to re-boot.

Domestic Violence Awareness Project

I have so many friends besides me who have experienced or continue to live with it. There is a difference between getting mad and abusing. We've all lost our temper, but we're not talking about those moment. Over time, in a love story, love got twisted and tangled. I believe abuse is so prevalent that we accept it as the ugly side of loving. It is not. Love doesn't have an ugly side, and maybe this is where we need to change the story.

I didn't notice it at first. I didn't see the 'control measure' that were employed. I don't even know if my he understands what he's doing when he does it. It doesn't matter if he is systematically repeating what he experienced or if he's intentionally doing it. What matters is that he uses his words as weapons to hurt, undermine my self-esteem and ultimately intimidate or control me.

Here are a few warnings signs:

• The abuser only says things privately to you (not in public). He sends me messages via phone or email. He rarely 'loses' it in public. Often this is a sign of escalation and should be a cause of concern for physical safety. 
• They allude or threaten to physically assault you. There have been a handful of occasions. The last time I left, he was blocking the stairs as I was trying to move out. I vividly remember his standing up and moving towards me with a jerk like a fighter in the ring. I was shocked because there had never been an indication of violence prior to that moment. My reaction was immediate. I asked him, "are you going to hit me?". It was so surreal.
• The language and tone are one-way. In my case, he constantly calls me stupid, dumb, ignorant, fat and repeats that our son will grow up to believe the same thing about me. 
• They minimize your feelings. 
• They shame you. I experienced this a lot, often in the form of back-handed compliments. This attacks a person's self-confidence as the abuser tries to chip away in order to maintain control.
• It often doesn't begin until a life-event occurs. Of course I can see the signs now, but the verbal abuse didn't begin until after our son was born.
• You feel like you need permission to go somewhere.
• They control the finances.
• They give you disapproving feedback or looks. When we would go out with friends, he would give me a look or tap my leg under the table to signal that he thought my story was boring or if I was talking too much.
• They don't show empathy or compassion
• They emotionally withhold, become distant to punish you or get their way. 
• They belittle and trivialize you, your accomplishments, or your hopes and dreams. \
• They are intolerant of any seeming lack of respect. After an evening out at pub trivia with friends, he would be upset at me for not voting for his answer, or for selecting someone else's answer. I still deal with his anger because I take other people's side or listen to their input over his.
• They don't take responsibility or blame others for their problems. This is a big one. I can't say this enough. Run, do not walk.

It is a terrible situation to have to live in; and made more difficult when children are involved. It continues to impact our child. He has gone to counseling, so he can understand words matter, his feelings are valid, and how to express them in a healthy manner. As a parent we want to shield our children from any pain. This isn't always possible when it is a parent causing it.

I don't want to stereotype either. An abuser can be a man or woman. It can be your boss, your partner or parent. If someone makes you feel badly about yourself, it probably isn't a healthy relationship. Abusers aren't bad people, but they have a problem that isn't easily fixed and most likely will never be addressed because they do not take responsibility for their actions.

We live in a volatile world, where we're a bit disconnected from our words. There is cyber-bullying and trolling reaching epidemic proportions. We need to start understanding that words are weapons and we're causing so much damage to our children. Verbal and emotional abuse lead to depression, anxiety and suicide. We have a responsibility to stop tolerating it. We need to talk about it. We need to educate people about it. We need to stand up for the victims and not make them sit in silence. We need to support them, so they know they aren't alone in it. We need to report it.

In the United States, we raise awareness during October on a few of these related issues. Please support ending verbal and emotional abuse by visiting the Anti-Bullying Campaign or Domestic Violence Awareness Project. Let's work together to end it.

When Quitting is the Right Thing to do

I wrote those dreaded words in an email to the Dude's head swim coach. It was one of the hardest things to do. I didn't use the word quit. I wrote withdrawal, but I meant quit. I expressed our thanks and appreciation for our time spent in the pool for the last year.

Leading up to this decision I spoke with parents and a few others to gauge what they went through with their kids. The initial acceptance, the tiredness, or complaining. Kids don't like the hard work. It is an individual sport. Swim practice isn't fun. The reality is the Dude plays two other sports he enjoys more, and swimming year-round was taking up every spare evening.

Practice isn't fun. What I had to remember is hard work is acceptable when you love the reward. Practicing basketball or baseball is okay because you have to do it to it to play in the game.

It is a struggle to quit an activity for me because I don't want to limit him. However, we can't do it all. We must prioritize and make choices in life. There is much value in learning how to do this. In the end, I took a step back. I listened to my child and realized that he was right. I told him too. I apologized to him. He played outside, we went for dinner to our friend's house. Now he has more time to do whatever he (or we) want to do. He is happier and I'm happier too.

We all need unstructured time. Free time to be spontaneous. It feels like a reward, and that may be something telling.

Me too

I'm compelled to continue with growing awareness of what it means to be on the receiving end of harassment. In the last 48 hours, a #Metoo campaign has grown on Facebook. It encourages women to post an update of Me too if they have been the victim of sexual harassment, abuse or assaulted. As the number of post updates have grown, it forces me to recall all the different experiences of unwanted sexual advances or harassment that I've experienced from a very young age.

I remember in a school production of Hansel and Gretel, my classmate who was playing the witch asked me to stay with her. I was a make-up assistant, so it wasn't unreasonable that I was with her. She was uncomfortable with the adult director. I don't recall asking why because I knew why she asked. However, I don't recall ever telling anyone. Not even my parents. I don't recall if anyone spoke further of it.

I've written about this before on Facebook. How much I dislike the phrase, boys will be boys. This is how this behavior is accepted and how we're setting up future generations to continue perpetuating unacceptable behavior as a fact of life. We need to do better. I shared a story about a period of time that occurred during elementary school. A boy would follow me around the playground and harass me. School playground attendants called it "teasing". He's just trying to get your attention. I didn't like it. I started carrying a purse and would hit him if he got to close. I served lunch detention for hitting him. Yup. I was the one in the wrong. He started following me home. I wouldn't go home because I didn't want him to know where I lived so I would walk around the block. I lived across the street, so this exercise was ridiculous because I would walk an extra 15/20 minutes before he grew tired.

One day it all ended. He secured my home number and called during dinner. My face must have dropped when I heard his voice. My Father took the phone and asked who it was, and he stupidly said something vulgar to my Father. I never saw that boy again. It was not the harassment that got him expelled, it was a threat of a lawsuit because it was determined that the school failed to protect my information because he found my number from school papers.

It was my Father who stood up for me. It was my Father, who in that moment confirmed and validated my feelings. It was a defining moment of my life because it gave me the strength to always trust my instinct. Also, it showed me that boys being boys isn't okay. I wasn't raised with those limitations, not by Father. He dragged me to baseball and football games. He took me to car races. He taught me to drive a stick, because every girl should know how in case they find themselves on a 'bad date'. He taught me basics about a car, so I wasn't taken advantage of. I wasn't going to be defined by my gender nor should I allow anyone else to do so.

These were incidents that could be explained away like they never existed, but I have always remembered them even though the faces and names have faded from memory. Their impression left a permanent mark.

The latter gave me the courage to say no in the future, but it didn't protect me from the more overt sexual harassing situations from occurring. The perverts (yes, more than once) stopping to ask for directions, only to be masturbating in their car. Sitting at Denny's to have a flasher outside the window. The latter may sound funny, but it's just a matter of life when you're a woman.Walking to work, who doesn't cringe at construction workers? It is like I suffer PTSD every time I see one. Head down, walk straight ahead as quickly as possible. I don't even like jogging in public, because when I was younger, I grew uncomfortable with being honked and yelled at. The drunken guys grabbing you at an event or bar. Once during a work function I had a much older labor leader try to give me his hotel room key. Something that is a matter of life if you are girl.

I saw Prime Minister Trudeau during a press conference refer to being a feminist. Watch it here. Mr. Trudeau has proclaimed this before. Last year he said similar things during announcing his cabinet.
We should all be feminists. It is something that continues to pop up. Dior made the shirt last year and donated funds to charity, but it needs to be more than a slogan. It needs to be incorporated into every day life.
I've started by raising a son who treats all people with respect, empathy and compassion. Who will not see girls as less but different, but not because of her gender rather all the other parts that make her an individual.

Big Little Lies

I read Big Little Lies before watching the show. The hit novel translates to a hit show because all picture perfect, social media crafted lives hide secrets. Some big, some little. Those white lies that we all tell to get through our day, or explain an absence or why we're running late.

We live in community with a lot of affluence, educated and successful neighbors surrounding me on all sides. The dark underbelly hidden by closed doors contain those two words that we see discussed a lot these days. Privilege and entitlement. These are the themes that provide the fodder for great stories. It makes for good entertainment. As a writer, we're often taught to draw from our personal experiences. We take an element, an aspect of the truth and shape it into something else. If only life were so simple. Art imitates life, not the other way around. We come up with the stories, but we forget too often that someone lives it.

In the news we've had multiple incidents of men in powerful positions, leveraging those positions to physically or sexually assault a woman. Let's label those people as a creative genius, or big personality. Quick-tempered or my favorite - emotional. I suggest they should be called what they really are - abusive. All to often, we're forced to work or live with someone who is volatile. Obscene. Abusive.

Let's be clear what we're talking about here. A woman in a relationship with a man who belittles her, who tells her he loves her one moment to sending messages calling her a cunt. If this woman were your sister, your mother or your best friend, would we tell her that's not right? Implore her to leave him? What if she can't. What if she has to continue working with this person, who attacks her on a weekly basis with messages of hate and calls her names ranging from fat to stupid to bitch? Should we just turn the other cheek and deal with it?

We are a polite society. Can I still use this phrase? People will jump on the bandwagon, but no one wants to drive. It takes one person with strong resolve and nerves of steel to make the first claim. Others eventually jump aboard. Then you see EVERYONE jumping on how wrong it is. Abusers get away with it because they can. They are entitled to lose their temper or have moments of poor decisions. I don't have to look at the latest headlines to see this. I see it in my own life. I'm in an abusive relationship that I can't end; and I just have to deal with it. Accept it.

Hmmm. Let's think about this. I'm not entitled to peace. I'm not entitled to my phone messages not containing vile language threatening me and calling my family faggots. I am responsible for not only my actions; but his actions towards me. Sound familiar? I'm fairly certain that is what abusers tell their victims. You made me mad and I couldn't help myself. Don't be a dummy, don't be so stupid. I'm smarter than you, so you should let me make all the decisions.

Well, the feminist in me says, WTF. The realist in me says, nothing you can do. The mother in me says, I refuse to allow my son to learn and repeat this behavior as appropriate. The rest of me says, there are a lot of women experiencing the same thing. They want a way out, they want a wagon to jump onto. The writer in me says, write, write it all down. 

I'm not the person who shrinks in pressure situations. I may not succeed, but I'm not going to back down either. Failure lies only in not doing your best. It takes many people stepping forward before momentum of change happens. Many of these abusers stay because we victim shame. When it comes to abused women, we often hold them accountable. We hold them accountable for sexual assault. It's a slippery slope to be a woman; and the shit always runs downhill. 

We need to do better. We need to not be polite society and turn away from disgusting behavior. We should demand more. It isn't easy to share these secrets because they are more than just a custody issue. Those details are simple and I'm not embarrassed by them.

So, the question is, why am I embarrassed to share that my ex regularly verbally abuses me? It is because we blame the victim. We give permission to abusers by making excuses. He just wants more time with his child. He loves his child. For the record, two weeks ago he wrote me and confessed that he loves me and our child more than anything in the world. Ahhh, that's it. He's hurt and heartbroken. He's just not expressing himself in a healthy way. No shit? Really? I'm pretty sure when I've been heartbroken I call my girlfriends, who cheer me up with drinks or chocolate or retail therapy. To be fair, I've contributed to the volatile situation. I stood up for myself. I know how I want to parent and I have strong opinions that I will represent. I will not back down in doing what I feel is right. This is how I've contributed to the situation.

He wrote on many occasions that I made him treat me like this. It is my fault. I mad him angry and he lost his temper. The following is my fault (according to him):

He's not working

He refuses to pay support

He lost his Uber job

He lost his Uber car

He lost his license

He quit his job

He loses his temper

He calls me stupid, fat or idiot

He owes 38,000 in child support arrears

It didn't start out like this, but I saw the dark hostility on two occasions before we had our child. Maybe I should have known. I certainly had concerns, but excused them away as one-offs or bad days. Fast forward, we have to co-parent, so I'm left with a court-order to use a communication tool. He gets multiple platforms by which to harass and demean me. Lucky me. I joke because there is no other way to deal. To cry would give him the power that he's getting to me; and I refuse to be defeated by a bully abuser. Some days his anger and hostility become distractions. Some nights I can't sleep well because I know I'm going to have to engage him or ask him a question because I refuse to let him change my commitment to providing our child with the best possible everything. Occasionally, I am energized and feel defiant. I am motivated to not be a victim. I put on a brave front, when really I just want to stay in bed; and pray he will die. Too harsh? When you have someone who torments you for a long enough period of time, which there seems no solution, no end, one prays for their death because the need for peace overwhelms all else. I have no compassion left for him. He evokes nothing from me but fear, angst and frustration. Every interaction we have causes an overwhelming feeling of dread and powerlessness that I've got to continue to co-parent with someone who continues to verbally abuse me.

After a terrible two days, I am having one of those defiant days. Let's be clear. Two days ago I was sent this message after our child support court date, 

"If you post or write one more thing about me I will end your fat ass" followed up by, "You are a cunt"

So what happens now will be my fault? Is this the message we want to send to our girls? Is this what we're telling our boys is okay? There was a lot of discussion about locker room talk in the fall. I recall Billy Bush lost his job, but America elected the other guy who actually suggested assaulting a woman is allowed because you're entitled. I have only one response to this sense of entitlement. 

I call Bullshit. 

Wonder Woman - Dreams do come true

I feel a wave of emotion come over me when I see Wonder Woman anything. She was my hero. She embodied the best of us, and she looked liked me. Long dark flowing hair, fierce personality and intelligence combined with some very cool outfits and lasso of truth. How could I not worship her?

I loved super heroes and their movies. I can now say that a lifetime desire to see Wonder Woman on the big screen is now complete. Why it took so long has never made any sense.

Gal Gadot is amazing. Her earnest insincerity to help people who need it most is unmatched except for Superman. Her heart is pure and she is determined to end war and save humanity. She has no qualms about killing a god to protect mere humans. Killing her brother, actually.

If only we could glean a little knowledge from these comic books heroes we grow up worshipping; and remember their lessons of courage, sacrific and standing up for those who are unable. It is the stuff that legends are made of...

My Friend Lucy

Last year I learned that a close friend from college committed suicide. He battled demons some would say. He may have been "touched" his sister would confide in me during our only conversation.

During a road trip I found myself driving by Anderson, California. Hometown to Don. It was the first time I thought of him on this trip. I made it to the Charles Schultz museum. In the many odes to my beloved childhood characters I found a comic scene between Lucy and Charlie Brown. 
It instantly reminded me of that first year with Don. He was a sophomore. We were the same age because I took a gap year. We would sit for hours and discuss life. He loved drinking dark ales like Guiness. He stopped going to class. He had played football his freshman year but quit his second. I gave him the nickname Lucy because he'd listen to my guy woes (I briefly dated one of his room-mates and it didn't end smoothly. He'd give me his perspective as I'd shrug it off. We both left after that year but remained close friends for several years afterward.

He bounced from job to job. He was a big, shy guy. I never knew him to have problems. He didn't act out. He wasn't agitated or angry. I didn't know what depression looked like, but oddly enough two of my closest friends that year suffered from it.

I mentioned it before, but we drifted apart. I used to make point to call or visit but in the last decade his tone had changed. His Facebook posts were politically angry. He espoused gun-rights and his rants carried a mean tone that led me to believe he wasn't the person I knew.

It is true. People do change. Sometimes they don't change as much as show their true colors. In Don's case, I believe life was not kind to him. He had too much to overcome or which with to deal, and that made him hard. It calcified his persona to protect his tender heart. I couldn't imagine my life without having never met him. I can still hear his baritone voice and vividly recall how he would slowly and carefully pour his Guiness into a glass. Take that first sip and sigh "Ahhh".

I always tell the Dude, life isn't fair. Don is just one example, a small town boy who grew up with dreams that fell apart and died alone. A very real illustration of how unfair life is for many people.

So this past July I left a little piece of my heart in a small town. Or maybe I found it. Thanks for being my friend. This one's for you. Happy Birthday Lucy. Ahhh....

Please consider supporting mental health through healthcare policy by contacting your legislators and telling them we need to provide mental health coverage as part of preventative wellness. Let's educate young adults to recognize the symptoms of depression and advocate colleges to do more awareness among their students, resident advisors and parents. College is a critical time and depression can have life-long and devastating ramification when not addressed promptly.

A long road home

Off my bucket list, Schulz
Museum in Santa Rosa

Road trips are a great way to clear your mind of what isn't important. See the world, interact with others. Reminds oneself of their place on this crazy planet. Here is what I learned:

1. I'm too old to be sleeping in the back seat of a car.
2. Car camping becomes claustrophobic when car has power windows and auto alarm.
3. People don't read the rules posted. And it bothers me.
4.  People don't understand the concept of a Drive-thru tree. It's not a walk-thru tree and take 20 photos and then do a movie
5. We post only those moments of bliss. However, some of the best and memorable moments are simple or plain inappropriate for photos.
6. The Dude has inherited my uncanny ability to sleep practically on-demand for car trips.
7.  Always be prepared to drive longer than expected.
8. Always be prepared to take a detour.
9. Feels good to check off a few bucket-list items.
10. Do not look at your car's front grill!
11. Compromise is the secret to a happy life.
12. The road keeps memories for us to experience again for each time we re-visit.
13. We carry too much baggage with us. All the stuff doesn't matter.
14. I really, really don't like McDonald's.
15. Nature is glorious, but I don't feel the need to camp.
16. Always bring pillows and a throw blanket
17. The ocean is my happy place
18. Selfie sticks are really pretty awesome and handy.
19. One can never eat too much ice cream, or drink too much coffee.
20. Coming back, home feels sweeter. The joy felt hearing "welcome home!". The feeling as I watch the Dude run off to play with his friends. Home is where the ❤ is.
21. Finally, every day is an opportunity.

Our Tahoe Detour

Let's Run

Let me preface this post by admitting that I've become the annoying person who does what I said I wouldn't ever do.

I run.

I run races.

Well, let's be honest about my 'running' to say that I intermittently ran two races. I walked the first one, and interval walked/ran my way through the second one. This time three months ago, I scoffed at the notion of running any sort of race. I hated to run. I never ran unless forced. I'm still wrapping my brain around the idea that I've become the person I admired (a runner) and swore wouldn't do unless my life depended on it. You're probably wondering, "what changed?"

(Left to Right) Linda, me and Sena upon finishing the
Hot Chocolate 15k in San Diego, CA

Nothing. It could be peer pressure and timing. Stupid, plain timing. My neighbor, had an extra bib. She and her friend were going to do a 15k and mostly walk it. I could walk a 15k. Why not?? We did run a few stretches. Some longer than others. We talked about life, and somewhere along the way I started to enjoy the process. At the end, we drank hot coco and gave each other high-fives for finishing.

That was the kicker. The feeling of working towards something and seeing it through to completion. A test of your resilience and desire to overcome an ache and fatigue. Get 'er done. We've all heard the term, "runner's high". I had never experienced it before because I hadn't done any races. I stopped playing sports a long time ago and like most athletes, most of my running was contained to the hardwood and the occasional 1.5 mile run. Several of the runs, I totally shaved a tenth of mile (or few) too.

Now I've downloaded an app. I've started doing a training program. I have run 2x week for the last few weeks. I'm planning on running 3x week starting this week. I ran this morning. It feels good to finish something that I hate to do. I like my job. Most other things I do must be done to function, like cooking or doing laundry. Healthy people would say we need physical activity to function as well. I would respond by saying, we need it to function well, but we don't need it to function. Hence why so many of us are too tired to do it.

I'm going to ride this high for as long as it lasts. The best thing is that it comes back after I complete my next run.