Alcohol and Prayers..

Sometimes I get told, "I don't know how you do it!" to which I almost always reply, "alcohol and prayers." That normally gets me a chuckle or two but little do they know, I'm being absolutely serious. I'll take time now to insert a well placed disclaimer- I am not an alcoholic. I'm actually allergic to alcohol (feel sorry for me now folks!). The first thing you have to realize is that there is not one mother in the world who hasn't thought at some point in their life (at least once anyway) of either A. becoming an alcoholic or B. getting some Prozac. Fear not, ladies, I am with you. Many days I get up thinking how blessed I really am to have this life. I have the love an incredible man and I am the mother to 6 children who teach me more and more each day......but then there are the OTHER days. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. It's those days we don't talk about because it would burst the little "perfect" bubble we've built with Facebook status updates. Those days when we hide in our bathroom and just scream very loudly to keep from throwing every SINGLE pointy hotwheel on the floor away. While you're in the bathroom screaming (and simultaneously nursing the cut on your foot from said hotwheel), you think to yourself, "what has my life become?" But here is the second thing and it's even more important than the first thing- you are not alone in this. Every mother feels like a failure every now in then. Our kids remind us almost daily, in fact. It could be when you're in the doctors' office and they tell the doctor how you bribed them with pixi sticks to get them to pick up their room or it could be in church when they tell the Pastor that you had to open a brand new bottle of Moscato because you finished the last one already. It could be anywhere and rest assured, it will be wherever is most inconvenient for you. This is probably about the time Prozac starts looking good. I've been there and I'm sure most of my readers can relate. It's not easy. Aside from marriage, parenting is singularly the most difficult thing you will ever do in your entire life if you choose to have children. But aren't there are so many sweet moments that make you forget about the disaster your day was? You forget the fact that you have food all over your shirt from a one year old with great aim, that you're wearing mismatched socks because you didn't have time to match them before you left the house or that your kid has managed (yet again) to end up with gum in her beautiful curls even though you searched the house high and low and could find no gum! One little, tiny whisper of "mommy" will make it all better. One little puff of their breath on your cheek as you carry them to bed and you're back to dreaming of having another baby. That, my dear, is when you take my third bit of advice- put your babies to bed, sit down on the sofa in the eerily quiet house and open up that new bottle of Moscato. One glass is all you need. I'm a firm believer that a good book, a circle of great friends and a glass of wine can take away just about any pain. Just remember that you, my friend, are not alone.

I keep on falling...no, literally.

My very first published creative writing post :)
Be kind!




When I was a freshman in college, a man came back into my life. I call him a man because he wasn't the boy I had once known; now they called him Marine. Where he used to be floppy haired, good natured and funny, he was now formal, smooth and decisive. His gait was steady and sure. His body was no longer that of an immature adolescent. His face was smooth, clean shaven and lean where it needed to be. One look at him, and I was falling.....no, literally. He had come into my place of employment where he saw me for the first time in two years, in all my glory- as a cashier at KMart. I was finishing up a double shift (13 hours). My clothes were dingy, my hair was slightly messy and my eyes were glazed over as exhaustion set in. This man showed up with his nice, clean shirt tucked in, a belt around his waist, and a smile on his face. His eyes were confident as he looked at me and I instantly remembered the boy he had been. That's about the time I tripped over my own two feet (I would later claim that an erroneous toy had slid into my path, obstructing my attention to walking). It's okay, you can laugh- it was funny (to him). It wasn't so funny to me when the cart I had been holding on to went flying down the aisle and hit an endcap of newly folded towels, thus making my entrance into this little scene memorable. There would be more times (theoretically and physically) that I would fall in the presence of the man who would later become my husband. While walking in my ball gown on his arm; while trying to climb a hill with our kids; while walking to the bathrooms at the drive in movie on our second date....


The very first time he kissed me, I knew he was my forever. That was it for me. I was in love with someone I had pretty much scorned in high school. I guess that's what karma is. The sad thing is, up until that point,  any karma I had earned would surely not have been good. This man changed me. He changed my life. I changed from someone who thought mostly of herself to someone who would help anyone walking down the road, regardless of race or gender. I changed from someone who had dreams of law school to someone who was content to be a stay at home mom while her husband was deployed. Dreams change; they evolve. They grow with you. That doesn't mean you have to give up on them. Now, 11 years later, I am almost finished with my Bachelor's degree. In a few years, I will start law school. I put my education on hold to follow a Marine and I have never been happier.

I tell you all of that to tell you this: Life has a way of changing. When your plans are definite, set in stone- life will still throw you a curve ball. The trick isn't to hit these curve balls out of the park; the trick is to always, no matter the circumstance, step up to bat.

And there he was..

Since my audience is......well, obsolete, I figured I'd take a minute (or this whole entire blog) to write about my husband. He's gone right now. He has been gone for almost 5 months now. Nothing unusual about that because he's been in the Marine Corps long enough for me to experience deployments. This isn't exactly a deployment per se; it's more of an unnecessary interruption in our daily lives. I miss him a lot. More than usual on certain days. Today is one of them. Certainly, I miss him in a sentimental way. I miss his face. His touch on the small of my back. The look he gives me from across the room. I know his thoughts. I've known this kid for more than half of my life and I can say with a certainty that 90% of the time, I can read his mind. I find it weird that I never thought to say any of this publicly. I wasn't raised that way. But lately I've come to the startling revelation- I'm not like other people. I'm me. I have always done what I wanted to do and I want to be able to throw inhibitions out the window. Maybe just once.

But today, and a lot of other days, I miss his touch. I miss his hands on my face, my neck, my legs. I miss him in a way that is completely natural but more than a little scary. I don't think he realizes the effect he has on me. I know that he sometimes is insecure in himself and doubts me but there is no reason. I love this boy more than I ever knew it was possible. I love him in way that is scary to me. See, one day I was normal. I had my life planned out- not figured out but definitely, I had plans. He wasn't part of them. He was a blast from the past. I tried to scare him off and it didn't work. Oh, I liked him a lot then. I was attracted to him. But he wasn't part of the big picture so I had to let him go. And I tried. BOY did I try. Then he came over one night. When he kissed me, it was like my first kiss. I had never felt that feeling before. I don't understand it because he wasn't my first kiss. I had kissed many times. But his kiss was breathtakingly honest. And I knew he loved me. I knew probably before he even knew. And all it took was one kiss before I knew I wasn't letting him go. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this man but he's mine and he's not going anywhere.

The man is a genius when it comes to me. And that's all I know. Today, like every day, I miss him.  He is my safe haven but he is also the storm.

These are my.....

"I would do bad things" songs.

The subject of religion....

I have been having a rough time with my faith lately. It's not that I haven't had trials in my life because I have. I have a sick kid and nothing could be more frightening than that, right? Wrong. Because in some ways, lack of finances/job can be more terrifying. When we found out Josh was sick, we had insurance. Now, 9 years later, we find ourselves losing the security that the Marine Corps has provided for so long. So there goes the insurance. What's one new worry, eh?


So my faith is pretty much non existent at this point. I never considered myself a conditional Christian but I realize, belatedly, that I may very well be just that. I never wanted to be that. When my son was sick, I never considered myself one. But when faced with circumstances such as these, I've become timid. I had faith. I had, so MUCH, faith that God was going to protect us. God takes care of his own, right? I thought so, too. Now I know better. I threw myself on His mercy and in the end, we were not taken care of. For over a year I told myself, this is not happening to you. Pray, Maria, pray. We serve a God who can move mountains. We serve a God who takes care of us. But he didn't. And it hurts. It hurts more than I ever thought it could.


So after that day in August, I was deflated. Everything I had lived for the last 15 years was suddenly a lie. A sham. What good is religion when you can no longer trust the omnipotent? And I found myself being completely and utterly.....alone- for the first time in my life. Obviously, I've been alone before. I've spent time without my husband, kids, family. But I always knew, when I was in that valley, I had God there beside me. And now, I feel the inexplicable grief of losing Him because I know with a certainty that I did in fact lose him. I can't find him anywhere. The pain is crippling. I can only brush myself off so many times before I realize that I am better off on the ground, so that when someone comes by to kick me, I don't have very far to fall. 


Now I'm faced with wonder. Is living a life free from religion really so grand? Is it grander than living, knowing that you have doubts but not looking into those doubts because your religion, your God is your comfort? Do you continue to prove that he doesn't exist or do you give up and go back to the way of life you had before because that life was comfortable? I think I'm at a crossroads here. Something very big is happening in my life. Good or bad, I'm not sure which. 

First time blogger...

As a first time blogger, I'm unaware of any unwritten rules. If I step out of line, don't tell me. I'm not doing this for anyone but me. I've found my thoughts jumbled in my head a lot more than usual lately and there is a pressing desire for me to let them out. I expel a breath and I can breathe again. My chest no longer feels tight and I no longer worry that I will have a major (and very public) mental breakdown. Hopefully, the pain doesn't come back but I know that it will.