An Open Letter to My Parents on my Birthday...

39 years ago on August 31st, you brought me into this world...and on this day, when I'm the one receiving all the hugs and happy birthdays, I wanted to take the time to acknowledge you both and say thank you...thank you for my life.

I've learned a lot and have seen a lot in the past 39 years that has forced me to recognize how blessed I am to have such wonderful parents who gave me such a happy childhood

From the day I was born you've always been overprotective. I never had a smudge of dirt on me, my hair was always fixed, my clothes were always ironed and you'd carry me so I wouldn't scuff my shoes. Even though dad was gone a lot overseas, you mom, made sure you played both roles when necessary.

Mom, I remember the first day of 1st grade, how tightly you hugged me outside my classroom while I had tears in my eyes. And even though I was reluctant to step inside my new surroundings, the warmth of your smile and the security of your hug was enough to give me the confidence I needed to get through my first day. You never failed to leave an impression. I will always remember the late nights that you would stay up and make cupcakes for my class and hand decorate each cupcake with different roses with your special butter cream frosting. And as I grew older and more of a pain in the butt, we bumped heads a lot because I thought I knew everything. I was always pissed off that I had a 12midnight curfew...even in college. But you did give me a choice: stay in the house & go to college & not pay for anything or move out, get a job and support myself. Obviously I chose to stay and suffer the curfew rule. You were education oriented and could never stress enough how being educated was the most important thing I could ever do for myself. I've never been a kid to disobey, break the rules or push the envelope. I think the most hurtful thing I could ever do would be to disappoint you...and that was enough to keep me on the right track.

Dad..we've always had the closeness that many kids wish they had. You always brought laughter and music into the house. If it wasn't for you, I would've never learned all the lyrics to The Sugarhill Gang's Rappers Delight. I still remember the vinyl record sitting next to your record player and how often we'd listen and dance to it. And when it came to Freddy Fender or Little Joe y La Familia playing, I was quick to jump on your shoes and hug your waist and dance with you while you lifted your feet to the music. I could never do wrong in your eyes, dad. And when I made mistakes in life, you were always there to pick me back up with your reassurance and love. In a world where there aren't a lot of girls with fathers in their lives, thank you for being such a strong, positive role model. I'm know you are the reason why I have zero tolerance for idiot men. Pat yourself on the back for raising a woman who doesn't take shit...and who is raising her own daughters to be the same way.

Even though you both lead separate lives now, remember always, that you BOTH raised an amazing girl..who is so thankful for such a wonderful childhood and amazing life you've given her. Not a day goes by that she doesn't thank God for you both.

Every year, you always ask what i want for my birthday.
But you've given me more than I could ever ask for...

you gave me the gift of life...

*I love you*

Hi-Ho-Hi-Ho..It's Off to the Gyno I Go!

Ugh.

The yearly exam.

The poking.

The prodding.

The Pap.

I have to be honest. I skipped out on my last year's appointment and that is very unlike me. I know, I know...shame on me. But ever since my husband got 'snipped', my reasons for going to the gynecologist have been put on the back burner. Ok, so I need to get back in for the yearly cell scraping of my uterine wall and boob massage. Doesn't that sound like fun?

Preparing for this yearly venture is a task of it's own. I feel like I'm getting ready for a porn shoot the night before my appointment-- Haha, 'Saturday Night Beaver'. But seriously, I make sure my nether regions are primped and manicured and fresh before my appointment. And as I prepare for my ' yearly prom date', I start to think about how my appointment will go from beginning to end:

3:15- Walk into doctor's office, sign in, update my insurance information hand over my $20 co-pay

3:20- Sit down and survey the waiting room. The usual cast of characters will be there: the screaming kid rolling on the floor while mom ignores him, the teenager wanting to get on the pill, the chick with the cellphone that insists on talking loud enough so that everyone knows her 'baby daddy' is a cheating asshole, the overweight lady with the 7-11 Thirst Buster cup wearing a red "Sexy Bitch" tank top that is 5 sizes too small and dirty flip-flops (who is also pregnant and can't tell), and the 89 year old lady that doesn't hear her name when they call her for the umpteenth time.

3:30- My appointment is supposed to be at 3:30, but they won't call me until 3:50

3:50- The medical assistant will call my name and of course mispronounce it

3:51- The dreaded scale will await me. I will take off everything I can,even my earrings and I'll look the other way as she scales the weight 'thingy' back and forth on the professional, piece of crap scale. I will cringe and not want to know the result

3:55- Blood pressure will be taken and then I'll be asked to pee in a cup

3:56- I will have saved all my pee from drinking the gallon of ice tea I had on my way to the appointment

3:57- Stage fright. I'll think of warm beer

3:58- I'll pee and miss the cup

3:59- I'll try again and I'll manufacture enough pee to serve a Brownie troop refreshments for a month

4:00- I'll walk my warm pee to my examing room and set it on the the counter

4:05- The medical assistant will walk in and tell me to disrobe, tell me to place the paper top on
backward and pull the paper sheet over my legs

4:10- I'll place all my clothes carefully on the chair and hide my thong (I'll normally do this when I'm not wearing cute ones), pull on the gynecological couture and sit on the crinkly paper and wait

4:13- I'll text my friends and makes jokes about where I'm at

4;15- I'll think to myself that most of my time is spent waiting--the exam itself really only takes 15 minutes

4:16- I'll look at the stirrups (the metal things connected to the chair that you place your feet in) I'll think how considerate they were to cover them with a soft 'oven-mitt' type of material so that my feet won't be cold

4:17- I'll look at the posters on the wall about the different parts of the vagina and think about how many vaginas my doctor sees. Does it phase her? Does she look at vaginas and think about how ugly they are? I start to imagine the different smells she must put up with. Does she go home and talk shop over dinner? As she's eating her roast beef dinner, does she say, "Oh honey..this reminds me of a woman I had in today..her labias were gargantuan!"

4:20- I'll start to fidget and wonder if I should put my stilletos back on to elongate my legs while they're in the stirrups. I'll look at my thighs as they peek out from under the paper blanket and think about how thick they look then become instantly depressed

4:30- I'll start to notice how cold it is and how my nipples could cut glass. I don't want her to think this exam is turning me on, so i try to massage them back in

4:35- I'll find a dumb magazine like "Quilt Making Made Easy" and try to pass time

4:45- The doctor will come in with her nurse practioner and ask me the first day of my last period. I never know, so I usually lie.

4:50- The doctor will look at my chart, make small talk, ask me about what I did during the summer, how work is going and start to examine my breasts as we continue to talk about traffic and the housing market in Phoenix. Her hands will be cold and I'll pray she doesn't find anything unusual

4:55- She'll tell me to scoot down a bit, so that my butt is right at the edge of the examining chair. My vag will be close enough for her to see my tonsils. She'll tell me to relax as I place my feet in the stirrups and let my knees fall to the wayside. The nurse will stand there and observe as if she is watching the doctor carve a turkey for a family of 12

4:56- I'll be relieved that I didn't take a dump before my exam. I wouldn't want to show up with poo residue

4:57- The doctor will douse the speculum (it looks like a metal duck) with enough lubricant (for Phoenix and the surrounding cities to play slip & slide) and place that bad boy in my birth cannon and crank that sucker wide open to scrape out some lovely cells for examination

5:00- She'll take the 'car jack' out of my vagina and then tell me that she'll be doing a quick anal exam as well. One in the pink wasn't good enough for her- now we go to one in the stink. Not fun..but again, glad I didn't drop a deuce before the exam

5:05- She'll tell me everything looks good, pat me on my shoulder and send me on my way..and there I will lay..a lubricated mess, with nothing but my paper ensemble

5:10- I'll get dressed, walk out & into the waiting room past all the characters waiting to be seen. Each one of them will know that I was just penetrated by metal and fingers

5:15- I'll get into my car, thankful that it's over and immediately start dreading next year

Why is this such a chore? Why do I make this so much worse than it really is?

I need to stop being a whiner and be grateful.

Yes, be grateful for the top-notch medical care that's available to us in this country; let alone, the services that are available to us as women.

In other countries, women aren't so lucky.

In America, we don't realize how good we have it.

So~ I'll stop being a little, whiny bitch...

until next August.

:)

Mom...

This picture sits in my office at work.

I can't help but smile when I look at it.

It has all the elements that make me happy: the wind, the beach, the white sand between my 4 year old toes...and my mother...

I look at this picture and I see a child with no worries in the world with a mother who constantly dotes over her with all her love and support; a father behind the camera who captures the moment on film knowing that one day his daughter will look back on this photo with heartfelt emotion and love.

I still hear the waves crashing in the background and the seagulls fluttering above.

I still smell her Oil of Olay cream and the scent of her flowery perfume. It's a perfect mixture with the fresh ocean air and warm sun.

Her warm hugs and infectious laughter still resonate within my soul.

The joy, the energy, the light in her eyes when she looked at me. I was her world.

The smiles...the happiness...the comfort of being a kid.

A blessed childhood.

A moment in time captured to remind me of the simplicity of life and what really matters: Family-Love-Togetherness

This photo captures the essence of who I am today: a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend.

Time goes by so fast, I can hardly catch my breath.

I now create these memories with my little girls. I, now, the doting mommy with all the love and support to give.

In my daughters' eyes, I'm now the hero.

But...I still need her.... my mom...my hero...

If I could just hold my mother's hand and dig my four year old little toes into the white sand once again...

Reflections

Ugh. I hate them.

Mirrors.

Dressing Room Mirrors.

Reflective glass.





I can't help it. I constantly catch myself looking at ...well..myself...off the reflection of glass. It's everything from the glass in the hallway at work, the glass door at the front entrance of the building, the glass in my car window to the reflection off of someone's sunglasses.

It's not pretty.

Reflections add 15lbs to your body.

Reflections enhance every pucker, every wrinkle.

Reflections inflate your thighs and double your chin.

Reflections make your hair look unruly and your arms "sausage-y"

Why do I put myself through this?

I guess I want to see what other people are seeing when they see me. Do they see what I see?

I see a mother who could stand to lose a few pounds (ok..more like 20), a neurotic perfectionist with teased hair, and ridiculously expensive shoes?

Why do I care what other people see?

I don't know. I say I don't care--but, I do.

Reflections are even worse in the fitting rooms. It seems like the more expensive the store, the more horrid their mirrors are. You'd think that the department stores would wise up and invest in mirrors that make you look 10lbs thinner. Revenue would skyrocket from all the women happily picking out clothing after looking like Kima Kardashian in the "trick mirror". I know I would.

Especially during bathing suit season. To be honest, I don't even consider any season bathing suit season. But you know it's fast approaching when every magazine on the store shelf reads "Get that Bathing Suit Body Now" or "The Bathing Suit Workout!" and all the 20-somethings at work are talking about getting into the gym before the summer or sharing tricks on how to make yourself puke after you eat. 

Yeah, yeah~ who has the time for that? I'm a full-time working mom with two young kids and a husband and 3 dogs. I don't have the luxury of any "me" time. I do have an elliptical machine (that's been used approximately 7 1/2 times in the last 2 years) and a variety of different workout DVDs. My favorite part of all the workout DVDs is when the instructor starts the routine and you're huffing and puffing..sweating...and jumping; gasping for air. You're dizzy from the heavy workout ready to keel over. You need water. And then the instructor says, "Ok, that was a great warm-up, now let's start the workout!" That's when I stop the DVD player and sit down with a bowl of ice cream to cool down.

My favorite is when I stop off for my coffee in the morning and I see other mothers in their tennis outfits or workout gear hanging out with no particular place to be. They're all so neat and perfectly tan conversing with one another while sipping on their morning latte, skinny, no whip. "Must be nice.." is all I can think.

And as I walk out of the coffee place, I see a reflection in the exit door. It wasn't the nuerotic, perfectionist mom with a few lb's to lose. It was a pretty cool chick, who's always smiling and living a life of gratitude; a talented, confident woman

THAT is the reflection I choose to see.

(or at least until I get my butt back on my elliptical machine)

;)