mama said there'd be days like this ...

I sent the following to a friend of mine awhile ago when she was going through a rough patch ... and she just returned the favor. :) Thought I'd share this in the hope it might help someone else who's having "one of those days":

On Perseverance
"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' . . . You must do the thing you think you cannot do." — Eleanor Roosevelt

You are doing that thing, right now, this very moment. Be proud of your bravery, of your strength, even on the days when you forget you are being brave, being strong.

On faith
"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." — Martin Luther King, Jr.

You’ve taken the first step, and the second and the third. Each day is a new step toward a new adventure, a new life. Trust that the staircase will lead you where you need to go.

On life
"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." — Robert Frost

It does. It is. It will. I promise.

On friendship
"Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down." — Oprah Winfrey

I’ve got the bus tickets, where do you want to go? =)

thanks for the reminder, K ... words have power and meaning, it doesn't matter who writes them, it only matters that they were and that they're shared.

Hugs.

Fat Chants

My lastest Fat Chants article has just been published over on Moms Out Loud (yay!). Check it out here ...

p.s. It was written a few days ago, so it doesn't reflect this AM's success on the scale. ;)

new post

After 35 days of neglecting my high-fat, high-calorie "weight-loss" blog, I've finally posted an update. Check it out here.

talkin' 'bout bloggin'

Who-hoo! I survived my first radio interview (well, I was on another program once before, but that was in a PR capacity, this one was totally focused on mamahood). And, despite my serious case of butterflies (OK, it was more like falcons dive bombing my insides), nonsensical ramblings, lost trails of thought and a brief period of waterworks (ugh, what a cry baby), I some how managed to plow through the 30-minute interview without a projectile showing of my stomach contents. SWEET!

Minette Riordan, publisher of North Texas Kids magazine and now host of the parenting-powered radio show of the same name, asked me to come on and dish all the goodness that is blogging your way through mamahood. Now that the experience is over, I can say it was completely awesome. Minette was super-easy to chat with and she was great about picking up the ball and running with it when I inevitably dropped it like a two-ton diaper (over and over again … there is a reason I’m usually on the other side of the interview, lol).

The show, which airs weekdays from 2-2:30 pm on The Word, 100.7, debuted Monday and has already featured some amazing guests (present company excluded) including authors, experts and parenting phenoms. The show’s ratings will inevitably dip when my segment airs next Thursday, but I know Minette has the strength and wherewithal to bounce back.

I’ll post a link as soon as my segment airs.

Here’s a pic of me and Minette post-show … no, the studio was not as balmy as it appears. Cooper, unbeknownst to me, had swiped my camera at some point and smudged the lens with his pudgy little fingers. So, riddle me this batman, why does Cooper avoid me like the swine flu when I’m going all mamarazzo on him only to snag my camera, turn it on himself and say, “Cheese!” when I walk away? Gotta’ get this kid his on toddler-friendly version … would love to see what he “captures.”



Post lens-cleaning … hmm, maybe I should keep the baby smudge on … I look waaaay better behind the “smoke.”

big news!

So excited! Just signed on to help promote a huge event in dallas (during my "down time," of course ... the hubs is "thrilled," he loves taking on extra daddy duties so i can work, lol).

The event is for moms … just moms … a little “MEedom” if you will. Thursday, May 7 (the week of Mother’s Day), is the first ever National Mom’s Nite Out. An homage to mamahood, this celebration is in recognition of the short-changing we always do to ourselves (something we usually never realize until we’re found sleeping in our cereal bowls).

Anywhoo, a total grassroots initiative, this nite, via every social networking site and the mom blogosphere, is encouraging moms to take part in local MNO activities or to simply take the nite off, get together with the gal pals and enjoy a much-needed brain break (hello, happy hour!).

And, if you happen to be in the Dallas area, well there’s something great happening in your mamahood. MomsOutLoud.com and North Texas Kids have teamed together to bring MNO to you … at Studio Movie Grill in Addison (munchies and mixers and movies … I’m in!)

I will be tweeting — momsniteoutdfw — and facebooking — Mom’s Nite Out Dallas-2009 — (and any other “ing” I can think of) all the details shortly, but until then, save the date. We all deserve a little nite out.

dear mom,

In answer to your question, no, I am not dead. No, we are not fighting. No, I have not lost my ability to return phone calls/emails/messages left with the hubs.

And yes, my son now tells me no just as much as I seem to tell you. ;) Talk about coming full circle.

My apologies to all 5 people who read this blog for my lack of postings as of late ... i've been crazy busy with work work, freelance work, getting side-business off the ground work, pro bono writing work, wife work, mommy work and yes, though it may come as a shock to my parents, yard work.

Hmm, sounds like i should start saying no to someone other than my poor mama! ;)(Oh, and on a sad little sidenote ... this post is in respone to my total MIA routine pulled last week with my mom ... niiiice, right. It takes me another few days to even post about not posting/responding ...ack!)

hope to be back in the groove again asap! Until then, Mom, here's a pic of your favorite grandson to tide you over.

loving you

I didn’t think I would blog about this, but I feel compelled to do so … if just to put some tiny nugget into the universe that could make understanding easier, acceptance easier, letting go possible.

This past weekend I went with my mom to Lubbock to help my grandpa move my beloved grandma into a home for Alzheimer’s patients. And though I have a dictionary on stand by and thesaurus at the ready, I have absolutely no words that could capture even some semblance of the heartache that transpired.

But, I do have this … Two days before I headed out, I crawled into bed with my laptop and a box of tissue and let the words and feelings and tears tumble forth, filling the page, filling my soul. I wanted to share a snapshot of it, the part that offers a sampling of solace.

This selection references a visit I had with my grandmother this past October:

“There were these tiny, festinate glimpses of the grandmother I had always known, of my friend that loved books and flowers and afternoon naps. They were millisecond moments darting in and out among the shadows and if you dared blink, you would miss them. They appeared as precious reminders of memories and laughter and pure and total joy. They were there in the way she rocked in her favorite chair, the way her eyes smiled at the sight of a child, the way she cupped her hand around my grandfather’s, a gesture perfected by 60 years of marriage.

It was beautiful and perfect and painful all at the same time.”

to my grandpa, to my mom, to my sister, to my uncles and aunts and cousins … I am in constant prayer that peace and strength and unshakeable faith envelope each and every one of us.

and, to my grandma, my friend, I am loving you for now, forever, for always

little reminders

At 9:12 last night, my cell made that familiar little jingle that meant I had new e-mail. Imagining the message would be something truly exciting — like SPAM — I debated whether or not I should check it. SPAM could always wait until morning (much like its canned meat namesake, SPAM never goes bad) and I would curse myself if I woke the (finally) sleeping tot tucked beneath my arm just to find out I was the instant winner of a lifetime supply of cheese.

Desperate to silence the painfully loud Elmo DVD, I decided to grab the remote and phone in one smooth, swift motion.

And I’m so glad I did.

With Elmo on mute (you can only hear about his friend Dorothy the goldfish so many times before seriously considering permanent ear plugs), the phone in hand and Coop still peacefully asleep, I was ready to read the adjective-laden details of my cheese winnings.

But the message wasn’t about cheese. Or some other equally sad little “contest.” It was an unexpected message from a friend.

Subject line: hi!

Message:
… just wanted to check with you and see if everything's okay....i noticed your blogging has slowed down some (mine has drastically come to a halt, too!), and just wanted to check in with you and make sure everything is going okay …

AWW! Touched. Touched. Touched.

Ever have those days where you feel like you’ve become the absolute worst version of yourself and you have no idea how to come back? That’s been me. For awhile now … but that’s for a separate post.

I have no words to describe how that simple e-mail made me feel, but to the sender, please know that you lifted my heart last night … a little reminder that joy and peace and happiness are always around the bend.

Here are a few more little reminders that I just had to share …


Mimi and Coopie during her visit a couple of weeks ago ... just after she found out her recurrent cancer scare was just that ... a scare! Blessings, blessings, blessings!


Coopie and Keri swirl around the "dance floor" ... no doubt giving her "new guy" a little jealous twinge. ;)


Wow, Mimi's got "great" aim ...


Aww, my lil' niece Monti (aka Montana). Love her! Love this pic! Miss her to pieces.

the break up

I have to end a 10-year relationship. Break it off, clean and easy. Rip off the band-aid, the yelping pain be damned.

I’ve wrestled with this decision for months. Agonized over it, lost sleep over it, turned to my boyfriends Ben & Jerry over it (there is ALWAYS solace found in a heaping serving of New York Super Fudge Chunk, don’t ever let anyone tell you different).

I’ve weighed every pro against its con (we’ve always made a great team vs. I’ve grown beyond our once-crazy antics). Thought long and hard about the ramifications of living a life sans the support of this decade-long friendship.

After all, how do you call it quits after surviving college, first jobs and long binge drinking nights together? After enduring broken hearts, broken promises, broken cars together? After getting tattoos, bad haircuts (and the occasional good one) and dream opportunities together? After celebrating life’s biggest milestones together—marriage and babies and buying homes?

Though it pains me to my very core to imagine waking up tomorrow knowing I’ve done this, I have to. I have to break up …

with my 20s.

Sniff. Sniff.

Today is our very last day as BFFs (well, I guess that second “F” was always more of a generality than an actuality, but still …). Our last day to balk at being called ma’am. Our last day to know we’ll be carded, rather than pray to God that we will be (blessings to the bartender that cards the 30-year-old!).

Today is my last day with my 20s. Here's hoping it's a good one (inspite of the tears). ;)

shovel

“Faith can move mountains, but don't be surprised if God hands you a shovel.” — Author Unknown

I spent the morning drive into work with tears streaming down my face, my hands gripping the wheel and my voice, quiet and shaking, lifted to the Lord’s ears.

I'd talked with my mom earlier and she'd shared some news that rocked me to the core (a core which was already shaken by some news she'd delivered over the weekend). Just before I hung up the phone, I asked her: “What do I pray for?”

She simply said, “For strength, for peace …”

I'm not ready to share specifics, I just ask that anyone who happens by this entry to join me in bowed heads, bent knees and softly spoken words.

With one shovel, or thousands … miracles the size of mountains can, and will, happen.

M.G.G. … with each breath I take, each beat of my heart, I am loving you, lifting you up and praying that peace find its way to you.

sooooo, vegas …

In a word: YOWZA!

Whenever you take a heifer (such as myself) who spends the better part of her day tied to a desk and yank her off her hindquarters and ask her to stand/greet/sell — cheerily — for upwards of 12 hours a day for five days, you better believe there’s gonna’ be some pain. (in every conceivable part of the body that even the strongest pour(s) of whiskey can’t fix — but Lord love you bartender Horatio for trying!).

I’m not exaggerating when I say — even at this very minute — that portions of both of my big toes are STILL numb from the traipsing back and forth between the Luxor and Mandalay Bay, between this event and that and so on, and so on, and so on.

Band-aids, strong gum (cat breath, I have found, kills the deal, lol) and frequently texted pics of Coopie (thanks hubs!) kept me from having a meltdown.

Aside from the behemoth blisters and aching back, highlights from Vegas included a $60 loss at the black jack table, a photo opp with Santa (must’ve been on vacay), a STYX concert, a fuzzy night at the bar following the STYX concert and stalking the hotel-room neighbor who kept Hillary up with his $200 worth of sex-capades (apparently the prostitution industry is recession-proof, go figure).

I’m happy to report that the boys survived (dare I say thrived?!) in my absence … Chris took Coop to get a new ’do (spikey … so cute!), they went to the hospital to welcome Sutton Stephenson into the world and they were both all in one piece (as was the house) when I returned. Aww … and it only took Coop 12 hours to remember that I’m his favorite parent, lol!


My friend Keri and her "crazy" accountant friends always do a kitty cat pose in their pics ... so, we marketing chicas had to show 'em up ... tiger style! rrrrrrrr. ;)


Never really heard/knew much of STYX before this tradeshow, but it was a freakin' blast. Thanks to David for letting me try out the fedora ... sexy, right! ;)


marketing shows a lil' love at Eye Candy in Mandalay Bay ... we're like family, I tell ya', a big, happy, dysfunctional family!


Coopie shows off his Vegas souvenir and a rockin' new hair cut. So stinkin' cute!

the last day

The last day of 2008 is also the last day in our apartment … we’re (finally) moving baby, who-hoo!

As excited as I am to kiss the big, white box good-bye, I’m a bit sad about it, too.

We celebrated anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, happy days, sad days, any days in Apt. 426. We lost jobs in Apt. 426. We found new ones, too. We loved (and laughed with) family and friends through cancer, heart disease, heart break, major life changes, minor life changes in Apt. 426. We embraced new loved ones, said our final good-byes to others and rejoiced in the blessings each brought to our lives in Apt. 426.

But above all of the living, the laughing, the loving, there’s one thing that matters most …

we became a family in Apt. 426.

On May 18, 2007, a tiny ball of squirming wonderfulness entered our lives and four days later we walked through the door of Apt. 426 as proud and petrified parents.

Over the next 19 months, up at all hours gave way to full nights’ sleep, bottles gave way to baby food, sitting-rolling-crawling gave way to walking, which gave way to running, inconsolable gave way to temper tantrums and silence gave way to the most beautiful sounds ever heard … Coop’s first coo, his first laugh, his first word, his first zerber on mommy’s cheek. It all happened in Apt. 426.

Here’s to last days. And here’s to first ones.

happy last day in 2008, everyone, hope it's a great one!

work it, girl

Hecka yeah! It is truly amazing how the blogosphere works ... you can connect with amazing people across the street, across the globe and feel this shared sense of commraderie—even when you’ve never met.

Case in point: After reading yesterday’s post (click here for back story), a blog buddy rallied in my sclubbish, sexless defense, posting this awesome entry on her own blog.

Shelly made me laugh out loud and made me rethink a few things. I love, love, love that she called on other mamas to share their “sex kitten” secrets in an effort to help me re-ignite my own non-existent one (really, my kitten doesn’t have nine lives, I think she kicked the bucket after 1).

Anywhoo, just a quick shout out and a huge thank you to Shelly: You rock, mama! Oh, and I’ll be sure to let you know when I wake up one morning, look in the mirror and say, “Hot damn my man is lucky!” ;)

p.s. LOVE the pics Shelly included in her post, so I had to steal her idea ... I'm so impressionable at this age. ;)

"you're tessa"

So, I got a wake-up call not too long ago: I’m not sexy.

Apparently my foul mouth, love of 12-year-old boy bathroom humor and obsession with home-bound lounge wear (read: oversized t-shirts and sloppy shorts/pj pants), along with other miscellaneous characteristics, has pigeonholed me as someone without a sensual bone in her body.

I asked the hubs something about me being sexy the other night and he kind of chuckled and said “um, you’re Tessa.”

No sexy side. No sensual side. No wine and roses and soft, romantic gestures. I’m just … Tessa.

ACK! You don't want the husband to see you this way (um, unless you have a "headache," lol).

I know there was no malice in the hubs' message, he was just calling it like it was, but that one little comment has bugged me ever since.

How do I get my “Sexy Back” (thank you Justin Timberlake for the most overused song lyrics ever recorded)? Did I ever have it to begin with?

Suggestions? Please help the schlub. ;)

warm fuzzies

Shut! Up! I just checked my e-mail and saw that some wonderful person (c'mon, fess up, tell me who done did it) nominated my blog for a Divine Caroline award.

Sa-weet!

I am so completely touched (shocked!!!) that someone would toss my name into the hat that I'm just sittin' at work spewing warm fuzzies and fartin' rainbows.

Thank you, nameless, faceless (um, I hope you have a name, oh, and a face) wonder who nominated me. You've just rocked my blogosphere.

p.s. Wanna' vote? There just happens to be a handy dandy lil' button located, for your convevience, directly to the right of this post. But, um, no pressure. =)

writer's do it write ...

...except this one. Sigh.

The countdown to moving out of an apartment (bless you, crappy housing market) and into a house (renting for a year, but it's sooooo a step up) is on. And, to pad the home deco fund, I picked up a 3-month freelancing job.

I love, love, love the work (and the extra $$$), but since I do the writing at night and on weekends, I feel (already) that I'm shortchanging the men in my life.

Chris has been great and tries the best he can to distract Coop while I sneak off to the bedroom to work. But, there's only so much a dada can do when a 14-month-old is adamant about getting to his mommy. There's been a lot of banging on the door, crying jags and all out temper tantrums ... and that's just Chris! =)

This new "extra" job fills a professional and creative hole I didn't even know I had, but how to keep it from creating a personal one is an entirely different story ... and one I'm not sure I can write my way out of.

for my friend

I don't always have the words. In fact, when I need them most, I am always left fumbling. Please know that in my stuttering, my silence, my nonsensical ramblings that I am trying to convey a message of love, of hope, of friendship, of peace. For you. My friend.

And because I couldn't find the words ...

On Perserverance
"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' . . . You must do the thing you think you cannot do." — Eleanor Roosevelt

You are doing that thing, right now, this very moment. Be proud of your bravery, of your strength, even on the days when you forget you are being brave, being strong.

On faith
"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." — Martin Luther King, Jr.

You’ve taken the first step, and the second and the third. Each day is a new step toward a new adventure, a new life. Trust that the staircase will lead you where you need to go.

On life
"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." — Robert Frost

It does. It is. It will. I promise.

On friendship
"Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down." — Oprah Winfrey

I’ve got the bus tickets, where do you want to go? =)

girls, girls, girls

After battling a sick baby for 2 weeks, what's a weary mama to do? Hit the town with gal pals!!!

There's something to be said for female friendships, especially those rooted in the years of youth ... they friggin' rock! This weekend I got some great mommy-just-me time with not 1, not 2, but 3 of my dearest friends ... we're talking friendships that started back in middle school. Friday night I downed a "few" cocktails, inhaled some serious food (the scales are gonna' groan) and checked out the most buzzed about chick flick this season, Sex and the City, with BFFs Keri and Jeri Lyn.

We had some serious heart-to-hearts, some serious laughs and some serious fun.

Saturday, I celebrated the soon-2-be birth of baby Claire at a high-tea-inspired shower for my incredible friend (and mommy inspiration), Lindsay. Twentysomething ladies sipped strawberry and peach tea, nibbled tiny sandwiches and crudités and, well, sweat our butts off! The one thing you'd NEVER want to happen at a baby shower in the middle of a Texas heat wave (aside from a food shortage for the knocked-up mama of honor) happened. Air conditioner. Dead. Bleck!

But Linz is a total trooper and sipped and nibbled and opened gifts o' plenty with not so much as a heat-induced whimper. (If only I could say the same! HA!). Despite the balmy temps, the shower was awesome. Linz and baby Claire are truly, truly loved.

And, aside from my constant worry over Coop's gnarly-looking rash, this was an awesome weekend. And yay, more girly fun is on the horizon. Saturday I'll be playing the hostess with the mostess for my lil' sis Amy's baby shower. Can't believe Montana is almost here! Another beautiful girl who'll make the world a more beautiful place.


Jeri Lyn & Keri dive into a pizookie.


Youch, gonna' have to work extra hard at boot camp to erase these calories from my hefty budunkadunk!



Keri's a CPA AAAAND a superhero ... sweet!


Standing in line for Sex and the City. Tickets purchased at 3pm. In line at 9:20pm. Movie started at 10:30pm. SATC excitement over at 1am. Such a steep time investment worth it? Absolutely.


Me and Linz -- mad hatters!


The hats help cover up the beads of sweat on the forehead! =)

wake-up call

After a particularly exhausting trip on the walking trails last night, I tucked Coop in bed and hit the bath tub. Flipping through my just-arrived copy of the May issue of Glamour, one article immediately caught my eye. The headline? “The Two-Minute Cancer Test.”

It was a follow-up to a skin cancer piece that had caught my attention last year. Being the sun-loving, fair-skinned, mole-dotted gal that I am, skin cancer has always been on my radar. But with my mom’s diagnosis of malignant melanoma in January, that radar is off the charts.

The Glamour piece shared the story of one reader who, at 29, had lost her battle with skin cancer. Sitting in the bath tub, reading about her journey — and thinking of my mom’s — hot tears streamed down my face. The article revealed that some 26,000 women were diagnosed with melanoma in 2007, up from 16,000 in 1999.

I immediately called my mom. I peppered her with the same questions I’d asked several times before: How are you feeling? What is your prognosis? Is genetics a factor?

Her answers were the same: tired. good. yes.

Until my mom’s diagnosis, I had always flippantly said to anyone who dared question my worship of the tanning bed, “Seems like everyone gets some kind of cancer. I choose skin.”

I grimace now at my shallowness and utter lack of respect for something so serious.

I was an idiot.

I’ve had several “suspect” moles on my back for years and I’m finally going to get them checked. And all it took was a couple of telling articles and a scare-the-shit-out-of-you diagnosis. I hope others aren’t as stupid as I have been.

"that" mother

Yep. As of this evening, I have officially become "that" mother. You know the one I'm talking about ... the one whose baby, despite the frigid temperatures, is wearing no socks or jacket and is throwing a huge ass hissy fit in the dressing room. The mother whose hair is haphazardly tossed in a poop knot on her head, has spit up stains on her sweat shirt and gives her huge-ass-hissy-fit-throwin' child ANYTHING to silence the deafening roar (cell phone? yup. sun glasses? yup. $10 spatula that she later "neglects" to purchase? yup.)

The one who ilicits both looks of disgust and empathy while she carries her 20-pounder in the crook of her right arm, while navigating the shopping cart with her left, all the while praying that her arm doesn't give out, that she doesn't ram into yet another rack of clothes and that the teetering carseat that the 20-pounder REFUSES to sit in doesn't topple over, scattering its contents to every far corner of the store (half-full bottle w/o lid ... chewed-up sun glasses covered in teeth marks and baby spit ... unzipped, overflowing diaper bag ... monkey teether and an assortment of products that still have price tags).

Yup. I am "that" mother. It didn't really sink in until I pulled into the 20-items-or-less lane and out of sheer exhaustion, plopped my no-socks, no-jacket wearing baby onto the conveyor belt in an effort to a.) get some feeling back in my arm, b.) empty my cart, c.) put his socks and jacket BACK on for the third time since entering the store and d.) provide some mild amusement for the throng of my fellow shoppers.

Oh, and sidenote: Before leaving for the store, my son ate a hairball!!! (my hairball ... I'm shedding. There's hair everywhere.) Sigh.