The Etcetera’s of Life

Oooohhh…the blah, blah, blah’s
and the
wah, wah, wah’s
and the
(ears covered with your hands) La-La-La’s

What is it about the “etcetera’s of life” that get dismissed in your nightly re-cap at the dinner table?

I remember I was super frustrated and close to tears when Lilliana threw up her breakfast in the car on the way to a family outing…we ended up calling the day a wash, but what I told people was that Lilliana got suddenly sick and we decided it was best to stay home.

We were super late to Emoree’s drama rehearsal because we needed to make a snack stop and had to go aall the way home because she forgot her script, but what I told her teacher was that she just forgot her script. (Snack’s are a family MUST-HAVE).

“We are running late!” when we were taking pictures of my daughter’s before we left, OR the very strong possibility of yours truly needing to change from jelly or coffee not making the large opening on my face that is my mouth…

Ah, the etcetera’s of life…the ocean view on the way to work, the way Lilliana wags her arm when she walks, the way Emoree drags herself out of bed every morning, or the way Sam seems to remember every detail of every single thing he gets to experience every moment to his life. The swift movements of her fingers over the piano keys, the focused look on her face when Emoree is watching The Flash, and the disappointed look on Lilly’s face when she can’t sit on my lap because my nails are wet.

Some seem to be more involved with the end product rather than the quality details that make it all happen. I never stopped to smell the roses until I met Sam. I didn’t even have a full grasp of what that phrase meant. Smelling the roses doesn’t just mean to enjoy the moment…it means to love how you got to that particular moment….love who happens to be with you, and be grateful for every detail that lead you to that moment….The Etcetera’s of Life are your life. When you finally see the roses, when they are there in front of you, when you see the wind move the leaves, and the thorns are slightly exposed…when you feel the smooth petals and the rough texture of the stem, smell the rose.

Why tell people you went to the beach when you can tell people you felt the sun on your skin, the wind in your hair and the sand crawling in your toes?

Others will be grateful to hear your journey to the roses, and some just wanna hear that you made the trip.

Those etcetera’s belong to you and only you. OWN them and CHERISH them. SHARE them.



Morning Of The Living Dead

Having two girls is quite an adventure. Lots of laughs…wheeling and dealing…joy rides…secret snacks on the way home after a long day of work and school…the list goes on.

BUT, starting the day is the best thing in my house.
Everyone’s worst moments come to life when that alarm goes off….blankets over the face, toes peeking out of the blankets, tremor movements under the blankets…everything involves a blanket somehow.

…and then it comes up…slowly at first, then really fast….bed hair first….then the eyes open, like a newborn child seeing their first image….then they really open and they stare at you with that look…deer in the headlight look…you know what that looks like.

No words are ever spoken….just grunts “mhmmpf”, “mhmmpf”. Eventually you start to make out the words, but then you don’t wanna hear the words because of the bad breath. But the bad breath is inevitable, so you start to wish for the “snooze button” (haha).

Then the shuffling of the feet commence, /ch/ /ch/ /ch/. The grunts are still there, “mhmmpf”, but more words are taking their place. The lights and TV are on and the house comes to life with “Hurry Up!”, “No time to eat!”, “Geez a lou, Did you finish your HWK?!”, “Turn the TV down!” and the etcetera’s of life continue until the next morning, when we start…all…over…again.



Labor of Love and Popsicles

I, wholeheartedly, believe in putting kids to work AND life lessons…killing two birds with one stone is something every parent tries to do.

Teachable moments are easily identified in my house when my hands are up and strong words of love come out of my mouth in an above normal pitch. “WTH were you thinking?!”

My oldest daughter is in her pre-teens (yaaay me). Monday definitely ended in tears over our usual after school grocery shopping trip in the produce section at our favorite HEB. Jazz apples will never be looked at the same….
The day was gone…ended…finito and this girl just felt defeated over everything she was expected to do in the four days to follow.
1. Tutoring every day ’till 5pm
2. Club practice every day from 5pm-6pm
3. Daily Homework
4. Online practice tests for Reading and Math
5. Book report due Friday
6. Essay due TONIGHT for summer camp

Defeated. How is she supposed to do all of this?

We can easily look at our children and know instantly how to comfort them, right?
My job is to stop her crying, hug her tight, and tell her she’s not alone, right?
So…what happens when that stuff doesn’t work? What happens when the crying doesn’t stop, and the hugs aren’t enough?
I offered her ice cream.   I.C.E.  C.R.E.A.M
Ice cream wasn’t the answer either.

I’m holding this girl tight, hearing her sniffle in my chest and ice cream doesn’t slow anything down.


“WTH was I thinking!”

She’s a young woman….ice cream or the idea of a new nail polish wasn’t going to work now…not in the produce section of my favorite neighborhood HEB. I felt defeated!

We walked around a little longer, talked about a plan of attack for this week, and she felt better. It turns out, I got my life lesson. At that point, I really understood how some kids can feel alone without a support system.


We walked by the frozen treat freezers, and it was silly of me to offer a pre-teen ice cream…popsicles are the answer! I bought four boxes.



The Snooze Button

I’ve been exercising the last few months. Did some cross-fit, found it was too hard on my body, then moved on to train myself.
I learned two things:
1. I snooze a whole lot more when I don’t have to show up to a group class attached to a high monthly fee, and
2. no good can ever come from a snooze button.

Let’s consider what a “Snooze” button actually does. It delays the inevitable…things you have to do, or things you don’t want to deal with. Right?
Taking from the above, you know what else I’d like to “snooze”?

1. A wailing cry stemming from “there are only tomato basil crackers left, not pizza flavored goldfish.”
2. A loud TV, music from a cell phone without headphones, tablet noise on top of that, topped with the cat crying over food left in the bowl for more than 30 min.
3. The stench and chore of last nights dirty dishes left in the sink…AT the current dinner time with nothing to cook in or eat on……
*******************LOOONG SIGH*******************

The snooze button…my worst enemy and wishful thinking.