Can Feminism Wait Until After The Brownies Are Done?

LOVE. IT. 

So do any of you feel like there is still so much you want to do and try in life and you’re really sure how to even start?

I've been feeling that way lately, there is so much I can do & honestly when you sit back & contemplate all the things you're good at, you'll be surprised at the multitude of talents you seriously possess. It's overwhelming at times to live in this brain of mine, because I have so much going on all at once - so many ideas and thoughts and things I want to try and do.  So how do you gather it all up and put it into practice? Well. It's what I'm thinking about the past few days.... 

Why is it that SAHM's have a problem admitting that we work at home, that we are stay at home moms?  I used to feel that way, when someone asked me what it is I do, I would freeze up and get nervous because I knew that there was no way of answering that question without getting some cocky shocked sort of look, of unsaid acknowledgment that what I was doing was insane, crazy, not normal, not right.  

Then I realized that I am one of a dying species, one of those still trying to hold on tight to simple things, to making sure that my home is still that safe haven where my family gathers at the end of a rough day, where you think of chicken soup and snuggies, of a soft candle glow or a fireplace blaring, homemade yummies, of simple times.  It's a HARD realization when it hits you, and when it did for me, it shot me into this roller coaster of emotions but most of all it completely slapped me in the face and made me realize that, I'm not abnormal, I'm not a weirdo, I am doing what I love, what I want to do for my husband and for my children and for MYSELF and THAT is the best feeling in the world. I have worked since I was 16. I've been in banks, and shipping companies, and retail stores and law offices and you know what? I hated it. I've sat behind desks, I've led teams, and I've bit my lip while being pushed around by punks no more than a year older than me on serious power trips. If anyone would have asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I can say with certainty - it was to be a wife and mother. It doesn’t make me a douche bag with no goals in life. I get how hard and upsetting it is for working moms and dads to get up and bring their children to a daycare all day and rush home the minute work is over to be with them. Believe me. I lived this. I did it and I understand. I get how hard it is to hear from a caretaker that your child did this and that and you didn’t get to witness it first. I’m not ignorant to what working moms and dads miss out on. But I work too. I work all ALL DAY LONG too. I am responsible for raising 3 human beings and sending them off into the world. More power to all the women in the world who choose and want to take over corporate America and prove to themselves and the planet that although they don’t have testicles, they can do and be more than any man in the world ever will. I applaud those women. I’m simply not one of them. It doesn’t mean I’m weak, it definitely doesn’t mean I let a man define me and my life and what I want. It means that what one person thinks is right for them - is not necessarily right for the other. You like what you like and there you have it. I like tofu. Not everyone else does and that’s ok. See? Good...

I've had conversations with people and heard that being at home instead of the workplace, means I'm succumbing to my husband, that I'm not my own woman, I have no identity... that I'm not independent....frankly all I can do to that is laugh, really hard and right in their faces. ANYONE who knows me knows that NOONE tells me what to do. No one makes up my mind for me and NOONE dictates to me. Some women allow that to happen, and that’s unfortunate & sad. I get that not everyone can be with their children all day and I don’t knock working mothers at ALL. I mean seriously. I just wish that working mothers wouldn’t look at the ones who have the ability to be home with their kids like they sport a 3rd eye or are some weak pathetic slave with no brain cells or path in life. I thoroughly enjoy making things from scratch. I enjoy taking the time to do a lot of things MYSELF. I have started 2 of my own business which makes me exceptionally happy, proud, fulfilled and allows me to be with my kids plus have a creative outlet that I would surely shrivel up and die if I didn’t have.

I could go on forever about this but I won’t. I guess my wish is for all stay at home moms to stop being grounded by what society thinks you should or shouldn't do, follow your heart and instincts and your wants and needs for YOUR family above others, and the sure thing is - you will find happiness. I was a total emotional mess with this in my 20's. As I grow I find that other people’s perceptions of me really don’t matter. I could honestly say that now. I resent that some select people think that I should want more for myself. I love my home; if you were to walk into it you would see so many handmade items, so many things that scream "cozy" & "family". Because it's who I am. I adore my family. I love every insane minute with them. I don't walk around my home with heaviness in my heart because being the best mother and wife in my family does wonders for the soul. When I was little I dreamt of a life I wished I had at that age. And I swore to myself that I was going to give my children EXACTLY what I wanted.

I’m doing just that. 

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

If I wasn't able to create - in any way shape or form, you might as well tell me to just lay down and die. I have always been a creative person. I love music. I love art. I love design. I could get lost in all three. In fact, at times, I have. I LIVE to create. I am glad to have finally caught up on all the things I had to do for other people. This means I can start working on some things for myself. This weekend was entirely too busy and I was in such a good mood.  I got so much accomplished.  I ran all over looking for items that I really need for my businesses and did price comparisons. Shopping.... Is there any better therapy than RETAIL?

I'm pretty sure I found everything I needed and tomorrow morning I'm going to pick some of them up. I'm sure it will make my daughter happy to tag along. Girlfriend loves to shop and I have absolutely NO idea where she gets it from....:)

WOOO HOOO - IM THERE!!!!

Moving on...

I never would have thought I’d be 31 and embarking on a new phase of my life that I sometimes feel I don’t have the skill set for. Change can be a positive force in your life if you let it be. The best way to create change for good is to not be afraid of it. Ive been getting better at recognizing change when it’s heading toward me and more willing to make adjustments in my life to either integrate or discover ways to avoid it. There’s no such thing as something that never changes. I am constantly evolving, striving to be a better person, wife, mother, sister. Hopefully - I am succeeding. There it is again, self doubt. Always.

I think what it really comes down to is that I have to start giving myself a break. I need to stop trying to kick myself when I’m down and allow myself to make mistakes. They are inevitable and that doesn’t mean that I’m less of a person or given to sloth. I’m always trying to be the best and I often fall short, but only in my own opinion. We are always hardest on ourselves. I need to learn to let myself fail on occasion and then be OK with it.  I deserve to be empowered and successful. I know that the only person that can make that happen is me. And I deserve for it to happen. As long as I keep moving forward things can never be too bad. And like my beloved Phoenix, I will continue to rise from the ashes.

So, while I write this I’m starting to think that perhaps this is part of the journey I’m on. This realization of what I used to do compared to what I do now. I need to do everything with intent, as I once did. I need to go outside and be amazed by the different colors of grey and blue the sky has. I need to enjoy the motions of what I do to see the beauty in everything and everyone. Life is a funny thing. It takes almost all of it, to realize how precious it is.

Move through life with intent. Like a fucking ROCKSTAR... Sheen-style.

Not dead bitches... just busy.

I will readily admit I am one of those women, riddled from head to foot with whimsy. I hold the view that life is what we make of it. For me, it has been exactly that in the last few weeks. :) I havent purged my thoughts in some time, and was beginning to feel full.


I started thinking this morning about how playtime has changed..  Whatever happened to kids simply PLAYING?  Yeah, I know boys will be boys.  They'll make a gun out of anything they can find.  I've seen first hand how Lego's can be used as weapons. Girls will always love being the mommy or playing dress-up.  But who says that's all they have to do? 


If you ask my daughter what she'd like to do everyday, she will respond with an eager: "TARGET!!!!", "STORE!!!!" "SHOPPING!!!!". She loves her babies, her Barbies, her PINK, but as girly as she is? We don't put boundaries on her.  She stole, claimed, "borrowed" her brother's hot wheels cars and army men at the tender age of 6 months. She is fascinated by their cars, trucks, etc and will sit exploring them for hours.  She even built an imaginary sword with Lego's to poke the boys with.  Truth be told? My daughter, is a tough chick.

It doesn't stop there either. 

Her brothers will sit and play Barbies with her. They dont complain (well, not too much) about her Tinkerbell movies on heavy repeat throughout the day or when she commands one of them to attend a tea party. One was corralled into dress up when she stuck a pair of fairy wings on his back. 

Dont laugh. This may happen to your sons one day as well.

They are always good sports and comply with her demands.  They don't whine or moan about how they are boys. I think its sweet. They don't belittle her dreams by saying she's a girl.  They help reinforce everything I tell all 3 of them:  You can be anything or do anything you want... :)


Moving along....


I've discovered that my 30's arent so bad. Thanks to my closest friends and the best hubby ever, I eased out of my twenties. I'm still loud, or louder depending on the crowd, and opinionated. I'm fiercely loyal. People fight and grow apart, but that doesn't mean our paths won't cross again. Life is about the journey, not the destination. Life has taught me many lessons, some easy and some hard.


In another ten years, I will be newly 40. It seems like a life time away, but from experience I know that it will come in a blink of any eye. Relish each moment. They turn into memories. And if the marvelous is not coming across your life, perhaps stepping away from the real and over to a bigger reality is exactly what you need.

You HONGRY?

INGREDIENTS
2 teaspoons cumin seeds
1/2 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/3 cup sour orange juice
1/3 cup dry sherry
3 tablespoons lemon juice
4 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 pounds pork shoulder, trimmed and tied

DIRECTIONS
1. Heat a small, heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the cumin seeds and peppercorns to the pan; stir constantly until fragrant and beginning to brown, about 2 minutes. Cool.
2. Using a mortar and pestle, crush toasted spices with garlic, salt, and oregano to make a paste. You can also do this in the small bowl of a food processor. Transfer to a small bowl, and stir in orange juice, lime juice, lemon juice, sherry, and olive oil.
3. Place the pork in a large resealable plastic bag. Pour citrus marinade over meat, and seal. Refrigerate for 12 to 24 hours, turning the bag over occasionally.
4. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C).
5. Transfer pork and marinade to a roasting pan, and place in the oven. Roast for about 2 1/2 hours, basting with pan juices occasionally, or until an instant read thermometer inserted in the center reads 145 degrees F (63 degrees C). Add small amounts of water to the pan if it dries out. Transfer the pork to a carving board, cover loosely with foil, and let rest for 15 minutes. Carve, and serve

And DINNER, my lovelies... is served. Great side dishes are cous cous (I add slivered almonds and dried cranberries to mine) or mashed celery root, mashed potatoes, even sweet potatoes are the bomb. If your feeling up to it, try frying some plantains and dusting lightly with powdered sugar and serve just as you would dinner rolls. Enjoy!

Pay Up Suckas!

Like Johnny Gill said..... "I Just Got Paid".

BUT - It's not Friday night.... and I have nowhere to go. So what fun is that you may ask right? Well Mama 'bout ta SKOOL u FOOL! See, lately ALL my children do - is fight. I mean fight over EVERYTHING. Where they sit at the dinner table, who has which wrestler to play with, where their socks go in the drawer, who gets to brush their teeth first, Wii remotes (THEY ARE ALL WHITE!?!?!)... I could go on and on. But I wont. Im gonna get PAID. See I was wandering aimlessly through Kohl's when I stumbled upon the handly little contraption pictured above. And then it hit me. It hit me like Ike Turner. THE NEXT TIME THESE HEATHENS FIGHT - I'm gettin paid because I'm TIRED of listening to the bewlshit. I snatched that sucka up, paid happily and proceeded to head to my car. (What happened in the time I left the register and GOT to my car is a WHOLE NUTHA ISSUE, but we'll just leave that alone for right now..) 

I drive home walk in the door and sit both their lil monkey butts down. Then I explained to them Mama doesnt get paid for my "job" of being a Mama. I have to take the good the bad and the ugly WITHOUT PAY. I have to be a maid, cook, taxi, doctor, secretary, referee... WITHOUT PAY, and well, Mama - is DONE HAD ENUFF. So... I informed them that the next time they fight I want to be paid to listen to it. The looks on their faces were priceless. As were the responding: "Huh? We don't have JOBS?" and "I can ask Daddy for some money, right?" WRONG! If that means I go straight to their piggy banks and deplete them. If it means whatever money they need for a field trip, or snack day at school, or movie night at school comes straight to me - then thats how Im rollin. The mouths dropped to the floor. Then, the offers poured in. "Mom, do you need help with dinner?", "Mom, can I make your bed?" "Mom, Mom, Can I do this, that, THE OTHER?" Oh yes....I also let them know that they can watch as the dollar amount goes up and up and then watch ME get in the car and drive away with that money for MYSELF. To get my nails done, go to a movie ALONE, you name it. And thats just how it is son. You want to act like a damn fool in my house, I don't listen to it for free NO'MO. And Im even thinking about charging OTHERS just the same. Don't come to me with bullshit drama unless you are gonna PAY me to listen. Cuz Im wiped. Business is starting up again, got 5,000 things on the mom calendar to do, a 19 month old who is part cyborg... Just don't have the energy.

Moving along...

So here I am walking out of Kohl's with the above purchase and I have said before - some people are afraid of dogs, the dark, small spaces... OLIVES... SANDRA - is afraid of snow and ice. Well when I went IN to shop it was fine. I came out into a mini blizzard. I glance down at my car keys and my gym shoes and realize mother nature is probably going to win this one as I slowly make my way across the parking lot. That's... when it happened. That mother effin black ice WON. I'm surprised all you people didn't hear my big ass go down. Bags went up in the air, front and back and Sandra made like Mary Lou Retton and did the splits and right onto my ass. Think that's bad enough? Nope.... gets worse. I pissed my pants. People, I sat there, tailbone stinging, dignity and self respect in shreds, and then it got even WORSE. 2 people start to approach me. Kids...Abercrombie crew...PUPPIES in their early 20's maybe? Late teens? "Ma'am, OMG are you ok?" I think hearing that was worse than feeling my ass, totally drenched in sludge, snow and tinkle tinkle, burn from below me. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh Im ok! Thanks!" I totally did not want them to approach me because HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN YELLOW SNOW?!?!? I was absolutely mortified. So like the persistent old woman I am, I kept declining their offers for help as I thought to myself "PLEASE GET A CRANE!!!" and finally they went about their business. I sat there for another cool 2-3 minutes plotting my army crawl to the car. Climbed in and proceeded to laugh so hard I was sure I was gonna pee whatever else I had left right there on the seat. But thankfully I didnt. And thankfully I was rockin waterproof mascara because I alternated between laughing and crying in pain the whole ride home. I GET home, beep for my husband to come "give me a hand" and hear "What the hell did you buy now???". I think he sensed by my middle finger I wasnt kidding and came out to hear the story. Did I get a hug? Did I get an "OMG U OK?" Nahhhhhhhhhhhhh - Homey almost fell over in the bushes laughing his ass off. Thanks babe.

So, he helps me hobble into the house, up the friggin stairs and I ask "Can you help me get these jeans off?" Did I get a "Sure, sure, omg you must be hurtin!" NAHHHHHHHH - I get crossed eyes, in between snorts of laughter and a big "EWWWWWW!!" People, he's lucky I wasnt able to chase him. "You watched me give birth TWICE, you have cleaned up regurgitated FOOD, and any other bodily function known to man from your children, animals, etc... " to which he replies "Any other time I have no issues with taking your pants down, but Uhhh....."  Men are gross. Even when WOMEN are gross, men still find a way to out gross us.

Yeah, there ya have it. ::HANGING HEAD IN SHAME::

"TIG OLE BITTIES"

I, unfortunately, am a big breasted woman.  38D to be exact.  This is post baby number 3. While pregnant with my children and nursing the youngest 2, these suckers hit an all time high of 42DD. G'LAWD HAMMUSSY. Some days I like it, others I don't. I am a firm believer in the just because they make it doesnt mean you should WEAR it. So here is my dilemma...

When I go to buy bras, I can't do those cute demi bras, because, well, It poses a problem for me.

Constant.  Nip.  Hard On...............  I can't stand it. 

"It takes a revolution to make a solution." -  The Late, Great Bob Marley

I mean the slightest blast of chilly air and BAM - they are popping out there for all to see. The 2 or 3 demi bras I have - when worn under ANY SHIRT I OWN, make me look like Dolly Parton's twin sister. Now while the husband is all for this, I, on the other hand, am not.

I saw that Victoria's Secret carries a bra called Ipex that is for fuller busted women and has a lining exactly where  you need it.   I must say that I don't like their sizing method, because I had to get a double D (give me strength.)  Anywho, this bra is good.  It has a little bit of a lining (that I am not used to), but it makes the twins look great under clothes.  Keeps them at attention, which I like, because lets face it, no woman wants to walk around with a chest of Nell Carter proportions hanging to their knees.  It's simply unacceptable. So yeah,  I'm gonna wreck shop on Victoria's Secret and snatch up as many as I can without having to file bankruptcy.  And the general public will thank me.

My name is Sandra. And I approve this message.

Pity, Party of One Please...?

I woke up this morning feel out-of-sorts, as if I'd committed some unconscionable sin in my sleep and hadn't quite forgiven myself. I waited for the unease to settle...looked around the room for a possible source of discontent. "Maybe it's too cluttered in here," I said, and proceeded to rearrange orderly chaos, tripping over baskets full of clothes and whatnot. Still I felt that topsy-turvy feeling. And you know, I'm used to "bad" days...feeling grey around the edges; wanting to remain immobile in temporary exile. Those days feel comfortable to me, because I know all soon passes. But this mood consumed me...made me feel restless and unsure. And so I sat and sat and sat and lay down and dozed and looked at my entire situation...no blinders, no excuses. And I realized that the biggest factor in my equation of (un)happiness is my mother. And when I say unhappiness I don't mean every day diddle daddle. I mean feeling a sense of rightness about all the things I believe, work for and desire. I suppose you can call it contentment. Damn everything because even to this day, this woman, who I do not know, yet look so much like - still creeps into my head when I least expect it. I am angry. I am bitter. I resent her for not having the decency to put ANY of her children before herself. Regardless of her life choices and relationship issues with my father, I realize she is at the core of everything I am screwed up over. They BOTH are. My father, is a whole 'NUTHA issue....My father at times, makes me question my sanity as much as the general public questions....

Mr. Busey's.

I get nervous when things are going well, or the mood is too perfect, and I feel I'm giving over to that damn...feeling again. And so I sit up straight and shake the webs of enchantment loose. You know better. Ever the realist I am, only willing to allow my feet to hover a couple of inches off the ground; so that I will feel little impact when I fall. And fall I do, because that rebellious piece of me gets soooo...heavy sometimes. As I sit here typing, I hear the clock ticking on my kitchen wall, sneek a glance at my husband snoring on the couch, our daughter snuggled up under his arm, head on his chest, I know my sons are safe and secure in their beds - their little minds off in dreamland. They are so innocent and untainted. Isn't it amazing how untouched they are? They don't understand war, depression, money issues, work, etc. I yearn for those days. When nothing really mattered other than just being a kid. I want to be that innocent and free again. And just not have a care in the world. Just for a day.

I sometimes find myself sitting, watching these little people play freely and getting that feeling - that emotionally malignant tumor (it's on my heart, if you must know) more than I'd ever felt it before. I just have got to learn to let it GO. Let her GO. Over with already. DONE. Cant fix it, cant make it right. I intend and have strived to build in my life what I did NOT have in my own.  It's just that it...she...and I, this phantom relationship we have, have got to part ways. Underneath the obnoxious snoring I still hear that clock tick tick tick tick tick... and it makes me think about how to make each one of those ticks mean something while I am still here to enjoy it. I suppose the little girl in me still yearns for a mommy. And she always will. When I'm old and gray and surrounded by grandchildren, I will STILL want a mother. I didn't get that this go around. And I cannot help that I feel empty because of it, but the goal is to learn to LET IT GO. And each day gets easier, but some days are still hard.

So on that note: I'm leaving you. Effectively immediately, I don't need you anymore. I don't need the idea of you. I'm so tired of feeling rejected by motherly figures. To hell with all of you. Ive had enough. To me you are a false sense of security. You are so cold that even the thickest blanket of all the lies you have told me would still make me freeze.

I won't sit still, won't shortchange myself, won't settle for a life half-lived, won't sidestep joy, and I certainly won't two-step, do-si-do, or salsa y merengue any longer. A missed phone call is your pathetic excuse. I guess because you still draw breath I cannot fathom how you can side step your issues. You had better make amends before its your time to sit in a box. For your ignorance for your children... for your ignorance as a grandparent, and for your inability to simply say "I'm sorry" Just 2 simple words I think BOTH her children need to hear. "Im sorry for choices I made that affected you - I cant change them, but I apologize". For this mother, I hate you. Too many coincidences abound. I can ignore these messages from the universe any longer. She's telling me that everything is within my reach, if I just didn't let you rule it anymore. So step aside, and let me breathe. Get the hell out of my head and my heart. I've got work to do. A family to raise. A mother to be. I want a different life for my kids than what I had. Not that I was MISERABLE and completely unhappy as a child, because I wasn't.  I had my big sister, but she was not my MOTHER. No CHILD should have to pretend to be a MOTHER. Its unfair and uncalled for. When you reproduce it doesn't give you the right to shove all your issues off onto your children. I want better for them (everyone in general). I'm now strong enough to hunt and gather the happiness of which we are all worthy. I feel as if my spirit is saying, "Do you trust me now, or do I have to keep proving shit to you?" And I'm saying, "Yeah...I get it."

Today was a busy morning…  Rush rush rush.  Come on Jack, brush the teeth.  Come on, get dressed, hurry up!  Breakfast consisted of a cereal bar and small orange juice ....."come on, come on, let's go, let's go. " We get into the car and had a nice conversation his first day back. Just the 2 of us. My gorgeous, blue eyed baby boy, my life changer, my source if insanity at times, but my heart. I absolutely adore this child. If ONE good thing came from the relationship I had with my ex-husband, it is this little creature, a SPITTING image of that man. I really thought I knew what it meant to love someone or something. Then May 11th, 2002 happened and everything changed. And I knew what I was in, and what I would not tolerate and vowed that I would NOT let my child experience the same thing I did. I loved him the moment I knew he was in there. But when I laid eyes on this baby, everything - EVERYTHING changed. I will never understand how a mother can be disconnected from her own child. Never. One of my favorite quotes:

"A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path."

I suppose that quote is wrong. Because not all mother's are loving. Not all mother's bond with their children. I love each of my children. With each of their births, my heart grew bigger. I didnt think it was possible, but it was. And when my daughter was born, this gaping hole that was in it was filled. These gorgeous little maniacs.... happy, healthy - 30 fingers, 30 toes, are my reason for breathing. Motherhood - it's somethin..