Now It's Time To Say Goodbye...

      It's no secret, The Wakelin Family spends a good majority of our time, and our money, on Disney. It has been "home" to us for a long time. Even after some admittedly negative experiences as a Cast Member AND as a Guest, I have always loved all things, Disney, because I have loved what it has stood for. I love the notion of working hard to make your dreams a reality, that magic is possible and that love can conquer all. I love how walking into a park, or even starting up a movie can shut out the miserable stuff happening in the 'real world', and take us into our own Fantasyland. I adore all of the amazing memories that we have as a couple and as a family, that are woven all around the Disney parks and products. And to this day, nothing makes me smile quite the same way that seeing Mickey does. Disney has always been a part of us, and we have gladly been a part of it.

But the time for change has come. There is more than one reason, but for starters, it's become totally unaffordable. Prices seem to rise every couple of months, while more and more offerings and entertainment get removed. Guests are charged $20 a person for an 'ok' burger meal, (with magically shrinking portions), $50 to park their car, $100+ a day to get inside the gates, and then even more if they want to use the Genie+ system to reduce their wait times, which they could have previously done for free with a Fastpass. All the while, the housekeepers that clean the trashed resort rooms, the custodians that clean up everything from spilled popcorn to puke, the Guest Relations agents that field complaints and get yelled at all day long... they are all being paid a completely unliveable wage and being asked to work totally unreasonable schedules, that take them away from their families when they are needed the most. Cast Members are living paycheck to paycheck and are constantly having their 'perks' reduced while being asked to work harder, faster, and with bigger smiles on their faces.

Faithful Annual Passholders like us, who spend THOUSANDS of dollars a year on admission, food, and merchandise, have been cast aside, told we don't bring enough revenue into the parks, and our benefits have gotten stripped down to a crappy car magnet and a 10% dining discount in extremely limited locations. Under Chapek's leadership, Disney is catering more and more to the uber-rich, pedaling exclusive events, limited edition, crazy-expensive merchandise, ($1000 mouse ears!), upgraded suites, and villas in the already premium resorts. It's all far more than any of us 'normal' folk could ever imagine. And before you say it, no, Disney has never been cheap, but it was an attainable dream vacation for most middle-class families to experience once a decade or so. Now it seems to be more of a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing, and even THAT will break the bank for most.

Let's imagine for a moment that we were one of those families that could spend money without a care. Or even better, let's imagine prices were reasonable for a Disney experience... Even still, I'm not so sure I want one anymore. What??? But Jenn, you LOVE Disney!!! I do. But they've broken my heart.

I think we can all agree that Disney has pretty much the master controlls over Florida. If there were never Disney parks, the Florida economy would be reliant on agriculture instead of tourism, and probably failing, at best. Yes, there are now other tourist draws like Universal, Sea World, even Legoland, and Busch Gardens, but none of them would likely be here without their big brother, The Mouse. And they all still take their lead from Disney. Price hikes at Disney? All parks will follow suit. Disney park policy changes? All the theme parks are on board and changing right behind them. So why the hell did Disney, a company located heavily in Central Florida, where a large percentage of the population is part of the LGBTQIA+ community... A company that just recently added a new "Inclusivity" value to their branding... A company that employs a large number of LGBTQIA+ Cast Members... NOT immediately speak up against Ron DeSantis and his ludicrous "Don't Say Gay' bill??? Why did they not immediately support their Cast and shut the bill down? They have the financial power to do it. So why not? In fact, why are they contributing thousands of dollars to politicians who are now backing this insane bill? Yes, Chapek came out and said that Disney has given to BOTH sides and that the donations were not based on any political stances in this bill and that Disney doesn't back this bill... Blah, blah, blah... Too little, too late. You're supposed to be a family company. How about treating the LGBTQIA+ families that work for you like they are, oh, I don't know... Human? Like they matter as much as everyone else? Instead, Disney is punishing Cast Members for participating in a walk-out over the bill and telling Cast Members they can't wear rainbow pins in support of the walk-out. WHAT????? If you couldn't tell, I'm pretty outraged by this.

Jay and I have made the very hard decision to no longer be Annual Passholders. In a few weeks, we will be done with Disney... For now. I really truly hope that things get better. I have seen many improvements, like Disney's effort to tell stories from non-white perspectives in their newer movies, and their creating of solutions for out-of-date and offensive attractions and films, but it's not enough yet. We will miss the parks a lot. The kids have wonderful memories all over Disney property, and we may still pop into a resort to look around and have some fun, but we are going to save our money until we feel better about backing the organization, and like the organization is backing ALL families.

Mickey, we are genuinely hoping to 'see ya real soon!', but you're gonna have to do better, pal.

It's the Least Wonderful Time of the Year! (Some Help for Parenting Kids from Hard Places During the Holidays)

     Ah, the sweet scent of pine and cinnamon in the air. The sound of 'Jingle Bells' and 'Silent Night' on the radio. The rush of people in the stores and the sight of lights, tinsel and decorations everywhere you look. Do you have the cold sweats yet? If so, you just might be parenting a child with a trauma history! Yes, this time of year that everyone else treasures and looks forward to with delight can be absolute hell for those in our position, (I type, as my dysregulated 8 year old runs around the livingroom, carrying a metal skewer like a saber and threatening to never go to sleep again). The holidays are filled with boobytraps of triggers and memories that can change the mood of our child with no notice and make getting through the season a nightmare. Well, there's good news and bad news. 

     Let's start with the bad news, because... 2020. Nothing is probably going to change the fact that the holidays are hard in our houses anytime soon. You can't erase memories. You can't make the holidays go away. As a parent to a kid from hard places, you are likely always going to struggle this time of year. I'm sorry. I'm there with you. I see you.

     But, here's the good news! #1. You are NOT alone. In fact, pretty much everyone who bothers to read this post is in the same position. Oh, I know it doesn't feel like it. That's because as trauma parents*, in an effort to avoid sharing some of our child's less savory behaviors with the general public, we tend to isolate ourselves. We decline invites, stay home, and barely even talk to our friends over the phone or social media. Even when there is NOT a pandemic confining us to our four walls. But trust me, there's a huge community of parents just like you that get it. Like, really get it. You're going to have to look harder for them, because they are likely hiding out too, but they are there. Find a local support group, or even an online one and suddenly, you won't feel so alone. You'll feel seen and understood. Don't know where to start? Feel free to join my Facebook page, Central Florida Adoptive Parents. (No worries if you're not from Florida.) Or do a google search for groups in your own area. 

     And here's good news #2: There ARE things you can do to try and make your holiday season a little bit easier. Can you change your child's reaction to certain triggers? No. Are you going to suddenly have a holly jolly Christmas? Probably not. So, WTF, Jenn, right? What can I do? Walk with me...

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1. Set a Low Bar. Lower. Lower. Riiiight There. 

     Our kiddos have a lot to deal with on a daily basis, but the holidays make things especially complicated. Think about it. The theme of the holiday season is all about love, family and togetherness. Oh man, do our kids have a hard time with that stuff! So expectations need to be set super low. Don't allow your family of origin's traditions set the bar for you. Your kid isn't you. And you aren't your parents. (I'll let you decide if that's a good thing or not.) While holiday traditions are important and should absolutely be maintained when they can, they tend to set us up for disaster with our kiddos. Don't expect your child to want to wear matching family pajamas or have that Kodak-ready smile when they open their gifts. You're possibly just going to be disappointed and end up with hurt feelings. 

     This is particularly important when it comes to the subject of gifts. A lot of kids who come from hard places have a difficult relationship with 'stuff'. It could be that they never got to keep their stuff. They moved from foster home to foster home and each time, the things that they thought of as theirs got left behind. Or maybe they had a bio-parent who sold all of their stuff, or destroyed it. Nothing seems permanent, so eventually, they become indifferent to the 'stuff'. Or you could have a child who is trying to fill a hole in their heart and they hope that maybe the 'stuff' will do it. The problem is that nothing ever is enough to fill that hole and it leaves the child looking ungrateful and spoiled. (Trust me, they are NOT ungrateful, even though it feels that way.) And even if there is no hard relationship with 'stuff', most neuro-typical* kids don't know how to react to gifts, so expecting our kiddos to know is unfair. Their faces and body language don't always match their feelings. (You may want to warn well-meaning friends and family members about this too, in an effort to thwart hurt feelings as gifts are open. See Tip #2!)

* neuro-typical refers to a child who likely has had a more conventional and healthy upbringing and does not have diagnosed learning, emotional or behavioral challenges

     The first couple of years that The Hubs and I were parenting our then 4 year old daughter, we really missed the mark on Christmas. We could not figure out why this child did not seem to care about her more fancy and (in our opinions) more exciting gifts (aka more expensive), and why the only gifts she'd oooh and aaah over were the crappy dollar store items. Why at six years old was she abandoning her games and dolls and playing with her baby brother's light up, musical toys? Why did she looked pissed off when she would open some items and sad when she opened others? Why, each time she opened a gift that she was excited about, would she insist on playing with it right away, leaving an unopened pile of gifts in front of her? Didn't she want to know what else she got? And oh man, twenty minutes into opening, look out! She'd lose her crap and become angry, emotional, or have a total meltdown. What the heck, kid? It's Christmas. Lighten up.

     The good news is, a couple of years in, we became more trauma-informed and we got better. We made necessary changes. We lowered our bar. We started understanding that she had no concept of these "nice" gifts being expensive or heartfelt. What kid does? She knew that when she was in foster care, every now and then she would get treated to a dollar store toy, or a McDonald's Happy Meal toy. As a result, THAT was the stuff she treasured, so we started buying more of it. When she was his age, my daughter never got the baby toys that her brother was receiving as gifts, so those fascinated her. We started aging down her Christmas gifts and letting her have the stuff that seemed 'too young' for her. In fact, this year, at 12, she is getting her first real Barbie dolls, because she's just now at a stage where she is ready for them and wants them. (Please, please baby girl... stay this youthful and innocent as long as you can! I'll buy you Barbies when you're 16 if you want! Just stay away from boys and drugs!) We learned that her face almost never matched her internal emotions, so we didn't take pictures of opening gifts and even tried to avoid everyone focusing on her while she opened stuff. And we totally stopped taking her reactions, or lack there of, personally. Some gifts reminded her of happier or sadder times. Sitting in those feelings, and not having the words to put to them is impossibly hard for a kid. Have patience. Remember that your child probably has no filter and can't put on a happy face, even though that's often what we were taught to do as kids. 

     Also, now, our Christmas mornings take a loooong time, often stretching into the afternoon, or even evening*. We are in no hurry to open presents and are on no set schedule. We let the kids open stuff and play with it as they choose. If they want to spend hours setting up a new toy, or holding a new doll, we let them. It's a good thing. Oh, and even if they don't ask to stop and play, we work in breaks. Fifteen minutes in, we make sure we stop and get some food in their bellies, and dump some coffee in ours, to avoid hangriness and sleepy impatience. 

* This makes me sound super spoiled and privileged. We would need breaks if we only had 4 presents. Some years we have had less, others we have had more, and for that, I am very grateful. 

2. Don't Force Anything

     If you want your holiday season to be as smooth as possible, don't make your kiddo do things you know they can't handle. And yes, sometimes the child telling you they don't want to do something means they can't handle it. Listen! You're not 'letting them get out of it', you're meeting a need. If you know sitting in a 2 hour Christmas vigil at church is going to be a disaster, make an alternative plan. If your kiddo tells you there are certain relatives they don't want to see, make up an excuse and let them bail. Oh, and for 2020....For the love of god, don't make them Zoom if they don't want to! You can always send your family member a text and explain that your child won't be joining you on your video chat, so they have a head's up, but video calling is so hard for our kids sometimes! Remember how we talked about their face not always matching their emotions, no filter, etc? Now add a screen to it. No bueno. Don't make them open presents on Zoom, or even really in front of anyone outside of your immediate family if possible. You can always have them send a carefully checked over by you thank you card after the fact. 

     You will probably have to help your friends and family adjust their expectations of your kid too. That's ok. And if for some reason, they are closed off to that idea or offended, they are NOT the supportive person that your kid needs in their life anyway. Trust me, I have lost LOTS of friends and family on this journey. The ones who stick around and bear with us more than make up for the lack of presence of those family members and friends who couldn't understand our family. 

3. Give the Gift of Compassion

     If you are raising a child with a trauma history, at some point, your kiddo was an innocent little baby, who had bad things happening to them, through no fault of their own. The people in their lives who were supposed to care for them and love them let them down. They hurt their very soul. Even if your child was fortunate enough to be adopted at birth and brought right into a happy, safe and loving home, they have a primal wound from being raised by someone other than the woman who carried them. (If these are foreign concepts to you, or you're having trouble buying into them, please do some research on childhood trauma and adoption. There are lots of great resources. One of the very best is The Connected Child by Dr. Karen Purvis.) These early childhood traumas echo into adult years. 

     When you are really struggling with your child's behavior, remind yourself of their pain. Remember that all behavior is communication. They want you to know that they are hurting. Take a minute to find the compassion in your heart for your precious child. (Especially when they don't seem precious. Like when they are throwing things at you, or destroying your favorite things.) You might even want to keep a photo of when you first met your kiddo handy, to remind yourself of their innocence and of all the things you love about them. Once you can connect with the place of compassion in your heart, it will make things much easier. It becomes you and your kid against their history, not your kid against you. 

     Keep in mind that there are triggers absolutely EVERYWHERE over the holidays! So many of our memories are connected to our senses and those senses are being bombarded at Christmastime! The sweet smell of cookies may remind you of warmth and love at grandma's house on Christmas Eve, but it may remind your child of the time that they tried to make their bio-mom cookies and burnt them, and then got hurt for their mistake. Does that mean you can't bake cookies? No. It just means that you need to be aware of how your kiddos are reacting to things, invite them to share feelings, and maybe make small changes if you see them struggling. If your child is old enough, ask them what they love or don't like about the holidays. You might be surprised what traditions they would like to start, or what stuff is hard for them. Communication is key. 

4. Give the Gift of Compassion... To Yourself

     Parenting kids with trauma histories is hard-ass work. Give yourself a break! Not necessarily literally, because let's be real, you're likely not getting a break anytime soon, but don't be so hard on yourself. Show yourself some grace. Secondary or care-giver trauma is a very real thing. You live in a state of hypervigilance and anxiety. That's exhausting. You are human and you are not always going to be a connected, caring and compassionate parent. My very favorite mental health professional, the amazing Robyn Gobbel, shared some life-changing words of wisdom at a retreat a few years ago. I'm paraphrasing, so Robyn, I apologize if I am off a little bit, but what you said was gold, so I need to share. She said that you're only going to get this parenting thing right the first time about one third of the time. That's reasonable, right? I can totally do one third great parenting! Cool. So then, one third of the time, you're gonna mess up. You're going to be dysregulated, disconnected, distracted and NOT the best parent you can be. That's ok. It's expected. The third that matters the very most is the third that you spend in repair mode. One third of the time you need to be showing yourself some compassion. Letting yourself get regulated. Saying, 'Hey, I messed that up. I could have done it better. I'm gonna try again.' In that third of time, you are going to ask your kiddo for a redo. Yes, you are actually going to admit to your human-ness to your own child!!! You are going to let them know that just like them, you reacted without thinking and there's a better way. THAT is where the magic is, my friends. That's the special sauce. Those moments of recovery and repair will teach your child how to also amend their own mistakes. It will show them that everyone messes up and that messing up doesn't make them a bad kid. It makes them human. This is a critical message for our children to receive. In this third of time, you will be giving your traumatized child the gift of a lifetime, and that is being the best parent you can be. 

     Now, as for actual breaks, take 'em where you can get 'em. 5 minutes in the bathroom alone? Take it! 15 minutes in the car to run an errand? Take it! A moment with your face in a cabinet while you mime the scream that you are feeling inside? Take it! If you are fortunate enough to be co-parenting with someone else, get good at asking for what you need. Have a code word to 'tag' each other out when you just can't deal with your child's meltdown anymore. Or maybe even more importantly, know when to 'tag' out your partner when you see that they are getting dysregulated themselves. Remember that you cannot regulate a child while you are dysregulated yourself! Put on your own oxygen mask first. 

     If you're not co-parenting, (bless you), ask your kid for a time-out if you can. I know it sounds crazy, but this goes back to that idea of modeling what you want them to learn. Say to your kiddo, (when they are semi-regulated and it is safe to do so), 'Hey, buddy, Mama needs a break! How about we grab an ice cream/take a drive/take a minute/watch a show?' Whatever works. No matter what, the most important part is that you don't beat yourself up about the screw-ups. They are going to happen. Your one mess up didn't destroy all the progress that you have made. You'll have chances to do it better another time. I promise. 

5. Resist the Urge to Threaten with Christmas

     I know you've done it in the past. I know you'll likely do it at some point in the future. It happens to all of us. "If you don't (fill in the blank with desired behavior), I'm going to tell Santa/take away gifts/cancel Christmas!" It's an easy threat and may often yield the response you're looking for, but at what cost? Shouldn't our kids know that their struggles can't leave them out of holiday traditions or get them banished to the "Naughty List"? After all, if that were the case, most of us may find ourselves there too! Our kids deserve to know that nothing they do gets the delights and pleasures of the holidays removed from their lives. Again, this is a holiday that's all about togetherness and family. Telling your kid that they will be left out if they don't act a certain way is basically confirming (at least in their acceptance-seeking minds) their deepest fears that this is all temporary or that you don't want them as part of your family. To quote a very smart Mama that I know... "You can't lose Christmas." Try to remember this in those most trying of moments and find an alternative way to work toward changing behaviors. 

     And while we are at it, please don't employ Santa or The Elf as the 'Good Behavior Police'.  Our kiddos already feel like they are being watched and scrutinized enough as it is, between parents, teachers, siblings, themselves... They don't need a bearded man or a creepy little elf judging them too. It instills the belief in our kids that one "bad" choice or action can cancel out all of their good ones and that's not a helpful life lesson, particularly for a kid who may struggle more than others. That's not to say you can't do Elf on a Shelf or talk about Santa as part of your holiday traditions. Just don't use them as a holiday surveillance system. It's just not necessary and you'll see far more negative effects than positive ones in the long run. 

6. Break Traditions

     I'm not talking about your family sing-a-long or your traditional meal, necessarily. I'm talking about the stuff that restricts and restrains us parents. Our ideas of what is 'supposed to be', the way we 'should act', and the way our kids 'should behave' is often set by what our family's expectations are. We bring our own crap to the table, especially at the holidays. Yes, you probably have lots of lovely, happy memories, but you have bad ones too. Maybe even traumatizing ones. Know what your own issues are and work on them when you can. Get a good therapist, or in the very least a good friend who can listen without judgement. Don't keep the tradition of family arguments and unhealthy behaviors alive. If your parents or siblings do something that causes a problem for you or your kids, speak up. Don't tolerate stuff because it's Christmas. You deserve happiness just as much as your kids do. 

     Try not to compare your kids to your those of your friends and family. They are NOT the same, and it's unfair to want them to be. It's ok to be sad about and maybe even mourn the ways in which your family will never be like others. I think that's normal for us trauma parents. We ache to be able to send out those happy holiday cards and updates, but most people don't want to hear about the new therapy our kid is in, or the new diagnosis they have, or the way they are struggling in school. I know. Almost NO ONE in this world knows the full scope of what goes on inside my house, and I'm ok with that. We may have lots of awful moments where things feel desperate and doomed, but we also have many incredible ones, where I see my kids overcome a challenge or I see them as for a do-over. They may not be Christmas card worthy moments, but they are so special to me, the kids and The Hubs. And THAT'S what matters. 

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     Wherever it is and whatever this holiday season finds you doing, I hope that you and yours are safe, healthy and as happy as can be expected. We don't need perfection here, just moments of happiness on a sea of 'ok-ness'. The big scary waves may come for you every now and again, but you'll get better at weathering them, and eventually, the seas have longer and longer moments of calm. And if you need a friend, I'll be here, in a lifeboat, bobbing along with a life preserver for you. Just give a shout. fltink@yahoo.com

Happy Holidays, everyone! 

NOT the Win I Wanted

      Refresh.... refresh... refresh... Are we safe from tyranny or are we not? Are the marriages of my friends going to be delegitimized or not?..... Refresh.... Do women have the right to their own bodies, or are we handmaids?....Refresh.... Are we done being the laughing stock of the world, or not?.... Refresh.... Is the acceptance of hatred and rampant racism going to come to an end, or just expand?... REFRESH....Is anyone going to do anything about the rising number of COVID cases again, or not?.....

     Each time the tiny map pops up on my phone, I hold my breath, hoping to see the angry red dots fading into a cool, calm blue, but so far there's rarely any change. I know there are other elections that have taken a long time to decide, but at the moment, I can't recall ever having cared. (Hanging my head in shame.) I never had a ton of interest in politics. Since the very first time I could vote, I have always voted Democrat. My experiences of moving away from home, working with a hugely diverse group of people at Disney, and living my everyday life had taught me to be pretty open-minded and for my beliefs to align more closely with liberals than conservatives. I knew voting was an important right to exercise, and I did, but honestly, I was never super invested. And yes, since my young adult years a lot has changed that would increase my level of interest in politics and the economy. I'm now married. I am now a mom. My kids go to school. Safety is important to me. I pay taxes and worry about my future and hope I can one day retire. I hope to hand down to my kids a healthy planet that is cleaner than the one they entered into. My kids have special needs that require governmental services and support. I worry about my family's health and the type of care we would get if we need it. But the number one factor that concerns me in the United States today and makes me passionate about politics, is race. 

     Time for another shameful confession... I was not nearly as concerned about racism as I should have been prior to adopting two Black children. Yes, I have always been against racism and have always wanted equal rights for all, but the subject of racism and inequality was never one that was all-consuming in my life. I did not know quite how deeply racism guts a person, how dehumanizing it is, until it touched the lives of my children. That's not something that is ok by any means. I am ashamed of that. The 'If-It-Doesn't-Happen-To-Me-I-Don't-Have-To-Do-Anything-About-It' attitude is one that is destroying America as we speak. I am thankful to be able to say that my husband and I are doing the work and learning more and more about using our position of privilege for good every day, (and are more than happy to help educate others around us, whether they ask us to or not!), but it shouldn't have been the burden of my Black children to be the reason that we started learning more. It shouldn't be ANY person of color's job to make  you care. To make you into a decent human being. You just should care about your fellow human beings. Your fellow Americans. Just cuz. You should trust their lived experiences and their truth as though it was that if your own child's and you should help make things better with the same vigor and passion. 

     But, ya didn't. Almost HALF of the country decided that the lives of Black Americans weren't worth as much as those of already-privileged White Americans. Almost HALF of the country wanted to re-elect a tyrant. A bully. A racist bigot who's Islamophobia, homophobia and sexism is only trumped (pun intended) by his rampant hatred toward people of color. He showed his racist colors over and over again, for the past four years, calling Black Lives Matter members terrorists, singing the praises of White Supremacists, and calling on the Proud Boys to 'stand by'.... directly threatening the lives of all Black Americans. And still... or maybe because of that... Almost HALF of you still voted for him. Ok, ok. You don't like Biden. That's cool. I get that. You have strong feelings about the economy, or being pro-life, or our borders, that you just can't agree with a Democrat on. Ok. But you also knew what your were consenting to when you checked that Republican box in this election. You knew this wasn't a Democrat vs. Republican race. Not this time. This was a Right vs. Wrong, a Good vs. Evil, a Dictatorship vs. a Democracy race. And Almost HALF the country made the WRONG choice. 

     But now the race is over and Good has won, thanks mostly to Black Americans, who came out in droves to elect a new leader, and to elect the first ever female Vice President. So now what? We win, right? Battle over. Stop your whining. Let's all be friends now, right? Well I can tell you this: These were not the results I was hoping for. I wanted to see a shut out. I wanted Americans to raise one, harmonious voice to say "no more"! I wanted the numbers of people that voted against 45's hate to be undeniable, but the bumbling idiot is on camera spewing about voter fraud, law suits and not leaving the White House. You can see from the hideous smirk on his face that he is pleased with how close the race was and how many Americans are still his blind followers, even though he knows he has lost. We did NOT shut down hate. Far from it. Almost HALF of us condoned it and that kills me. In an attempt to not be a total Debbie Downer, I will of course acknowledge the massive numbers of voters that got to the polls this year. We successfully engaged young adults in politics, bringing the largest number of 18-25 year olds into the voting arena than ever before. We have taken the House and are super close to flipping the Senate. We elected Representatives and Senators of varied ethnic backgrounds, religions, sexual orientations and genders, including our first ever openly transgender state senator. And the second-in-command for our whole country is a woman. A multi-racial, kick-ass woman. That is HUGE! We did a lot of good work. There is much to be proud of. 

     While the race toward the Presidency is over, the race toward equality and the end of racism is just starting. We are at least playing on a more fair course that we were over the past few years, but we still have plenty of battles ahead of us. And while I too dream of a country where people can disagree on policies and politics, but still get along and still respect one another, that concept is just smoke and mirrors until we make some major strides toward racial equality. Give your Black friends and family and their White allies time to be mad. Let them be heartbroken that the race was so close. Let them feel the weight of that, and then remind them that you are there for them. Don't know how to be there for them? DO THE WORK! Learn. There are plenty of articles, books, support groups, websites and so many resources to help you learn to be the best ally you can be. Follow Black activists and artists like @ShaunKing on social media. Most importantly though, LISTEN. When your Black friends and colleagues speak and share their experiences, listen. Take it in. Don't "not ALL white people" them. Don't "well I voted Democrat" them. Don't "not me" them. Just LISTEN. Listen and learn. You don't need Black children, grandchildren, in-laws, cousins, coworkers, partners or even friends to have racism be a relevant issue to you, because the fact is this: Racism is NOT a Black person issue. It's a White person issue. It should be YOUR issue. And if it hasn't been in the past, good news!!! You can still make it your issue now! We are counting on it.  

     There is much to celebrate tonight. I love seeing people dancing in the streets and honking car horns, waving Biden/Harris signs in triumph. But I also know that for every person in the street celebrating, there's another one in their house somewhere, upset that the Liberals won this time and determined to slap them back down into place. Stay safe, my friends. Stay vigilant. Get in some good trouble and get to WORK. We've come so far, but we still have SO far to go.

Lifestyles of the (Faux) Rich and (Totally NOT) Famous

     Know what really sucks? Money. Money sucks. I know it's uncouth and maybe even vulgar to talk about money, but here are two realities: 1.) I really don't give a shit. 2.) Unless you are lucky enough to be in the 1%, money is a problem for almost everyone, so why not talk about it? In fact, I would say that next to making sure that I am the best parent I can possibly be for my kiddos, money, (or our lack-there-of), takes up a pretty large percentage of my thoughts and an even larger percentage of my worries. Can we give the kids a decent Christmas? Do I have the money for the car payment? Do we have rent on time this month, or at all this month? And I hate ALL of it.

     Right from the get-go though, I want to say this: It's not lost on me that we are very, very privileged to have the worries that we have. We have a roof over our heads. A super nice roof, in a super nice house, in a super nice neighborhood. It's all rented, but we still get to live here. We have plenty of food in our fridge. (Really too much food in our fridge is what started this blog in the first place, isn't it?) We've been on cruises and vacations in the past that some people only dream of. We have modes of transportation and we even get to spend a lot of time on Disney property. And to top it all off, we have several fantastic friends and family members who love and care about us. We are lucky, lucky bastards. But the truth is, we probably shouldn't be doing or having most of what we do. It's been a rough few years for us, financially. Job changes, lots of outputting of money for things for our kids, including services and our income is way down from where it was.

     Five years ago, The Hubs and I both had great paying jobs in sales. We worked hard and played hard. We got to vacation in France. We got to buy things we not only needed but also things we wanted. We didn't have to worry much about bills being paid because we could pretty much always cover it. We had great health insurance through work and out of cost fees weren't an issue. We also did not have kids.

     Yes, it was the best thing that could possibly ever happen to one human being to meet our kiddos and get to make them part of our family, but man, those suckers are expensive! Not only do kids cost a lot of money, but their needs put a huge limit on how much time we as parents can commit to work. It's no secret that our maternity and paternity leave in the US is a joke compared to the rest of the world, but we also struggle to be able to care for our kids on a day to day basis and still balance work, because our living wages are abysmal. I am so fortunate to have an incredibly flexible job, but when I have to take some extra time off because my kiddo with sensory processing disorder is having a meltdown, or because my daughter is having a panic attack, it costs me. And if you are the parent of a kiddo with a trauma history, you are so gonna feel me on this, but can we just talk about how expensive everyday life is for these kids? There are therapies, activities to keep them engaged and strengthen their social skills, tutors, IEP advocates, medications and treatments, tools like wobble cushions and weighted blankets... You just basically hemorrhage money. Again, best money ever spent, but it's overwhelming. And just one tiny event can send you into a hole that feels impossible to dig your way out of. Welcome to my life. We seem to find hole after hole. One step forward, two steps back. That kinda thing. It's exhausting.

     Our most recent 'step back' came in the form of a car accident for me back in late February. My already piece-of-crap of a car was totaled and my injuries have put me out of commission quite a bit. I can't really elaborate for legal reasons, but I am happy to report that I was not at fault and that myself and my passenger are on the road to recovery, but between the costs of having to get a new piece-of-crap car and time off of work, having to go to physical therapy and appointments multiple times a week, etc, it has sucked donkey balls. Not to mention.... it put me into a tailspin of depression, lack of motivation for anything, and even incapacitation at times, and as a result, I have regained HALF of my lost weight. Fuck. Me.

     So, here we are... faux rich, and so NOT famous. Why do I say "faux rich"? Because to the outside world, we probably look pretty comfortable: car, large (read: expensive to climate control but locked into a great school zone) house complete with pool (read: cash guzzler), occasional travel (read: flight benefits as an airline employee), and so much more. But the silent truth is that we struggle to make ends meet on a day to day basis. We have zero savings and no backup plans and that feels scary.

     My kids know it, too. I don't want them to know, but they are observant. They get that we never go out to eat anymore and that we've cut way back on the fun extras that they were used to when they first moved in and we had higher incomes. They get that Mamma had to fight with the doctor's office to get anxiety meds refilled without having health insurance and without paying a $200 office visit fee. They get that sometimes it's not worth the gas to go somewhere. They get that groceries have to be on sale to be purchased, no matter how yummy they look. They get all of it. I don't ever want them to have to take on any of my worries though. They have enough of their own. So we still try to make sure they have fun and that they get to feel special and amazing. We spend time with them, unplugged from technology and engaged. But they see the worry in our eyes. I am sure of it.

     We are genuinely doing the best we can. The Hubs works hard at his job, in the hopes to move up soon. I work whatever I can at my part-time job, and I also keep my gig facilitating post-adoption support groups, and blogging. Not huge money-makers, but every little bit helps.  We have cut waaaaay back on expenses, and have found small, happy surprises in doing so. We got rid of cable and satellite tv. We were super tv addicted and were really sad to cut the chord. Turns out, we don't need it and we spend a lot less time zoned out in front of the screen, which is awesome. Now, we are not complete animals... we do have Netflix. And Amazon. And Hulu. Oh man. We may have a problem.

     The point of all of this is just to say that money troubles blow and if you have them, you're not in it alone. In fact, this particular pool is overcrowded as hell and I think someone just peed.

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of the Year!!!

     It's almost the first weekend in March, and for me, that means it is about to be one of the happiest weekends of my entire year! Why, you ask? Because this weekend, a flock of over 100 women who are all parenting kiddos from hard places, who all GET me, who all SEE me, who don't judge me or my kids and who are as equally excited to connect with me as I am with them, are descending upon Orlando. I am a member of a non-profit group that supports parents who are raising kiddos with trauma backgrounds, and this retreat is the event that the whole year centers around for that group. The weekend provides much-needed rest, recovery, learning and recharging for me, and lots of other moms. This is my fourth year attending and by now I have many, many friends at this retreat and I'm excited to hug each of them, but I am the MOST excited, to see my Hippos. Not these:

Though they are SUPER cute!

My Hippos. See, last year, by some sort of magical happenstance, I ended up sharing a house at our retreat with 11 of the most amazing, beautiful, wonderful women I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. We had an awesome weekend together, bonding, relating and laughing... a LOT. When the weekend was over, I know that we all needed each other, or at least, I needed them, so I started a FaceBook group just for us, and the rest is history. We have spent the last year supporting one another, loving one another, and patching up one another's wounds. We have been through breakups, breakdowns, new kiddos, kiddos leaving home, milestones and momentous occasions of all kinds. We mostly talk through FaceBook, which may seem impersonal, but to us, it is deeply, deeply personal. Sometimes the only lifeline I have is these ladies. Sometimes I have a day where Jay is at work, one kid is melting down and destroying the house, and the other is angry at me and the world and cannot be consoled. I feel like an awful mother and yet there, on the other end of a post, or a chat, or a text.... there's a fellow mom... a ROCKSTAR mom... who thinks I'm doing a good job. She gets what I'm going through. She's supportive, but can also tenderly teach me how to be even better. She's one of 11 different women, each with different stories, but with all the same loving hearts. Some of us don't even really know each other very well, truth be told, yet there's a kinship about us that transcends acquaintanceship. It's sisterhood. And I am beyond lucky to have found it. 

     One thing I always felt like my life was lacking was strong female friendships. Perhaps it's because when we are younger, women are trained to NOT trust one another, to not even like one another really. Perhaps it's the younger version of me constantly needing to compare myself to other women and always feeling like I came up short. Either way, I didn't have many female friends in my 20's and early 30's. Yes, I have a few friends who have been in my life for a long time, but life has a way of pulling you away from one another with schedules and lifestyles. Add to that being the mom of kids that come from challenging backgrounds, and I'm on a WHOLE different level from most women I know. This life is hard to relate to. It's hard to tolerate. Most other women don't want to be around a friend who constantly has to cancel plans due to sensory meltdowns or behavioral issues, or whose kid can be difficult to be around sometimes due to their needs. I get that. Parenting kids with trauma is isolating and lonely, but somehow I am lucky enough to have these incredible women supporting and encouraging me. And not just them, I have been fortunate enough that I have found several female friends, outside of my Hippos, with whom I have bonded and found a deep connection in the past couple of years. Each of them accepts me and my family and loves us, even though they may not be able to relate, and I appreciate them just as much as I do my Hippos. 

     I cannot wait for this weekend! I need some Hippo hugs and some time with my ladies and ALL the ladies at the retreat. I need a recharge and a reset. Each year, I come back to The Hubs and my kiddos a better mom and a better wife. These women... these amazing women... make me the best version of me. And I wish for every woman on the planet to find their own Hippos, too. 

     Oh wait... I never explained why I am calling them "Hippos". Haha.... weird. Ok, well the actual reason is because last year's retreat had a Wonder Woman theme and our house was called the Hippolyta Heroines, but since none of us could remember that, we kept calling our house, "the Hippo house", and the name stuck. But it's a fitting name anyway, since hippos look sweet, slow and docile, but when it comes to protecting their home and their family, hippos are one of the most dangerous creatures on Earth. Mamma Hippo will cut a bitch if need be. I can relate.

I'm Coming Out...

     .....no, not THAT way. I mean, as far as I'm concerned, it's all a spectrum anyway, but that's not where I'm going with this. I'm coming out as the writer of this blog. I've decided that it's time to start sharing with other people out there in this strangely cyber-connected, yet isolating and disconnected world that we live in. Not because what I write is phenomenal, mind-blowing wisdom that the world will beg to have bestowed upon them, (I mean... it is...), but because 1.) I'm ready to increase some accountability on myself. Make myself more visible to my friends and family, and therefore, maybe hold myself to a higher standard of writing, sharing and committing. And 2.) I know for a fact that there are other women that go through things that I go through, who live similar lifestyles and have similar circumstances and can relate to and connect with what I'm saying. And that's really all each of us craves in life, isn't it? Connection. Acceptance. The affirmation that we are not the sole weirdo having our weird thoughts. So I figure, if I can bring that to just one person, it's worth sharing my life with the world.

     So, for those of you who are new here, welcome to my corner of the world and the underside of my random thoughts in my brain. If you know me personally, you know that I am a mom, a wife, a daughter, a friend, a Disney fanatic, an occasional writer, a sarcastic weirdo, and let's call it what it is, a chubby chick. But like all women, all people, I am much more than that. There are parts of me that even I have yet to discover and I'm really starting to like that about myself. This April, I will turn 40 and it seems like an appropriate time to reflect back on where I have been and to dream about where I am headed. I've been on a bit of a "life quest", if you will, for the past six months or so, which you are welcomed to go back and read about in my very first post, and I already feel like I am a much better person for it. Not because I am thinner, or healthier, or anything other than more accepting of myself and, to quote Ashlee Simpson's pre-recorded SNL track, all the "pieces of me".

     That being said, I am thinner. 40 lbs down in fact! Which is awesome, yet I managed to turn it into a disappointment in myself. If you've been reading along, you know that I lost the 40 pounds pretty quickly, within a couple of months of starting this blog. I had hoped that by now I would be down even more, BUT riiiiiight as I was getting angry at myself for not making much of an effort over the past few months to lose more weight, I said to myself, "Hey, Ding-Dong.... you maintained a 40-pound weight loss without much effort. THAT'S a friggin accomplishment!" So I'm trying to go with that, ya know? See? I'm learning!

     I do feel healthier. I do feel happier. I do feel better, overall, so there's no downside here. I took a hiatus from blogging because I was feeling bad about my lack of forward motion, but I need to keep learning the lesson that our progress and success in life isn't always a linear thing. Sometimes we make a big ol' loop back into shitty before we rocket forward. All I did was slow down a bit. But I'm still here, still sarcastic, and still trying to find my big ol' shiny Jenn-light that burns so bright.

Oh and I have a new dog who makes me SO happy! 

You Say You Want a Resolution?

Happy New Year, one and all!

     As I sit here, four hours away from 2019, I gotta say, I will be so frickin glad to slam the forking door on 2018. Man, this year SUUUUCKED. Between the abysmal state of our nation and the shit show of the year that we have been handling in our household, I am done with 2018. Bring on 2019.

     Now, I realize that nothing really changes when the new year rolls in. It's simply hours later than sucky 2018 was, but I think all of us like to see it as a fresh start. And as a result, we make ridiculous resolutions, promising ourselves that we are going to be better, healthier, stronger, smarter, skinnier, whatever-er. This year we are going to reach all of our goals. This year we are going to be the best versions of ourselves. Except we are really just setting ourselves up to be let down by ourselves, again. We set unattainable, silly goals for ourselves because we are so disgusted with what's "wrong" with us. We can't even take a moment to find what is "right" with us, and THAT is wrong.

     Well, this year, I'm not having it! My resolution is to NOT have any insane resolutions. I am going to be reasonable with myself, accept my faults, and realize that I am only human and prone to mood swings, mistakes, and general fuck-ups. I'm going to stop pressuring myself to be the perfect parent, the perfect friend or the perfect anything. This is me, in 2019, accepting and loving me as I am. And I have a feeling that all the other stuff I want for myself... more money, less pounds, more happiness... will come as a result of that acceptance.

     I hope you will make the same promise to yourself. You're worth it. You deserve it. Now, get out there and GET 2019, Girl! (Or Guy!) Happy New Year!

Trauma Vs. The No-Good, Very-Bad Holiday Season

Hey there, guys! Happy Frickin Holidays.

     As you can see, I have taken a long hiatus from bestowing my snarky humor and witty musings on weight loss with you. (Don't worry, I'm coming back to that in a bit.) That's because it's fucking December and this month wreaks complete and total havoc on my household. If you are a "normal" adult, parenting "neuro-typical" children, you're probably thinking, "Right? Between the shopping, wrapping, baking, cleaning, getting ready for school vacation, etc.? I totally feel ya, girl." And while I appreciate your empathy and agree that that stuff is stressful, my fellow "Trauma Mammas" out there, (or parents raising kids that come from hard places), you get what I mean on a whole different level.

     When you are parenting a child who has been through trauma, the holiday season is a veritable shit-show. Think of it like this: When you think of the holidays, those thoughts probably rouse all of your senses, right? You can smell the fresh Christmas tree and the cookies baking in the oven. You hear jingle bells and holiday music. You see blinking lights, holiday decorations and presents. You taste peppermint, eggnog and gingerbread. You feel the warmth of the flames in the fireplace and the chill of the wintry air. (Well, ok, maybe not that last one for us Floridians, but you get the picture.) And all of that probably makes your heart happy because it's conjuring up memories of family, togetherness, giving and receiving and all around joy. That's how I always felt about Christmas. I just loved everything about it. Christmas has always been magical to me.

     Now think of it from the perspective of my daughter. The holidays make you think of family... sure. But which family? The family that you live with now, who love and adore you, but who don't look like you, don't share any of your DNA and will never quite be the same as a biological family? Or the family that cast you aside, hurt you and disappeared? (As far as you're concerned.) The season reminds you of your birthday, which unfortunately falls right before Christmas, but not in a fun 'yay-its-my-birthday' kind of way. More like a traumaversary of horrible memories kind of way. And all that stuff that was so fun before.... the candy canes, the holiday music, the snow, the gifts.... they all become triggers, reigniting that primal fear in you, that sense of loss and grief. But you can't get away from those triggers, because they are everywhere. So you just have to learn to cope. At the age of 3.

     That sensory immersion that comes with the holiday season, from the Christmas music at the gas station, to the red and green sprinkles on the cookie in your lunch, is constantly bombarding children of trauma with all of those memories... the good, the bad, the painful and the terrifying... constantly. So it's no wonder that this time of year our kiddos get crazy-pants. They are dysregulated, hyperactive, and often times have mood-swings that look like mania. My kids can go from having the time of their lives to complete messes of tears and screams in an eye-blink this time of year. My 6-year-old has been a rage machine for weeks now, going from being perfectly happy, loving and content to throwing anything he can get his hands on, knocking furniture over, and screaming angry words at me, within a moment's notice. For him, it's not just the holidays. He has a lot going on in general, but yes, a child who was removed from his birth family's care at just a few days old is still suffering the effects of trauma. The holidays still make him think of family dynamics and for a kid who's just learning to navigate the terrain of being adopted... figuring out how to field questions from classmates that he shouldn't have to answer about why he's black but has white parents, coming to terms with not knowing his biological parents, etc.... that's a LOT. Way more than I could frickin handle, and I'm supposed to be an adult. I totally get why he melts down. I would too. I do, sometimes, in fact.

     Then you have my daughter who makes it her job to get everyone to believe that she is happy and well-adjusted at all times. She went through a lifetime's worth of trauma in a few short years of life, yet she refuses to acknowledge a negative emotion. She's only ever "happy", "excited" and "good". Sounds nice, huh? Sounds easy to parent. Nope. Not at all. She spends so much time performing and putting on a happy face that when the negative stuff reaches its boiling point, man, does she lose it. And it'll never be over her true feelings. It will be over difficult homework, or over frustration with her brother taking her toys. She'll get so angry and so upset that she will hyperventilate, yank at her hair, and hit herself in the head. It's heartbreaking to see, and equally as hard to deal with because while there is so much pain behind it, it's hard not to take her nasty attitude and angry glares personally. And forget getting help! She does such an incredible job of not allowing anyone at school to see her true self, her true fears and emotions, that everyone sees her for the happy, well-adjusted person that she portrays. Why wouldn't they? Except I need them to, in order for us to work together to cultivate an environment in which she does feel safe to be herself. It feels like an impossible task most days.

     So take the triggers of the holidays and throw into our household financial struggles, job changes, crazy schedules AND a dying, elderly dog who alternately makes me weep over how much I'll miss her when she's gone and then makes me curse at her leaky bladder and another stain on the rug, and I am about DONE with the holidays. The holidays can go fuck themselves.

     .....But realistically, what can I do? What do I do to make this better for my kids? Ok, so firstly, we let them take the lead when it comes to Christmas. They tell us if and when they want decorations up, if and when they want to listen to holiday music, if and when they want to bake cookies. My little guy is totally in love with Christmas lights and likes to spend just about every night in the backseat of the car, riding around from neighborhood to neighborhood, ooh-ing and aah-ing over elaborate holiday displays. He is heartbroken when January hits and people start taking them down.

     Also key, we lower our expectations. Yeah, maybe we always dreamed of having a big Christmas Eve open house and having friends gather in our home to celebrate the season. That's not realistic for our kids. That's not setting them up for success, so we don't do it.

     We are aware that new triggers can pop up anywhere, so we are on the lookout for them. Holiday memories are very strong because of all those sensory ties. A kid may be doing just fine, and then all of a sudden, that gift reminds them of something they had in foster care, or something they asked Santa for and never got, and we are off to the races. We are prepared for that and as understanding as we can be. And speaking of gifts...

     We try to keep it lowkey on presents. (Key word being "try".) Yes, the first year the kids lived with us we lost our minds and tried to spoil them with everything they asked for and more. You know what happened? The new stuff sat there, unopened, and they played with the older, more familiar stuff. We stick with a few things that they really want, some stuff that they need, and a couple of surprises. That way it's not overwhelming. And while we open presents, we let them set the pace. They often want to stop and play with each item they open. That's ok. We let them enjoy and wonder at each toy. Who cares that there's more to open? We'll get to it. Maybe not until tomorrow, but that's ok. No rush.

     It's also super important that we, as parents, set the expectations with friends and family. Our kids are NOT required to give hugs and kisses. They are also NOT required to open presents in front of the person who gave it to them, as they can find that embarrassing and uncomfortable. And when they do open presents in front of others, we forewarn that well-meaning family member that they shouldn't be hurt if our daughter acts disappointed in their present. She feels unworthy of any present to begin with and also doesn't know how to handle emotions properly. Prepping relatives with this info in advance helps ease a lot of burden for kiddos.

     Even more importantly, when it comes to dealing with family and friends, we don't allow anyone around who isn't a positive person for our kids. Friends who question parenting decisions? Nope. Family members who make vaguely racist or sexist remarks, or inappropriate comments (or ANY comments) about adopted kids? Not a chance. Family members who can't get onboard with what our kids need and end up triggering them? Lost your invite in the mail. It's not worth putting our kids, (OR OURSELVES), through dealing with any of that nonsense. Ever. Not just a Christmastime.

     When the meltdowns come, and they will, we do our very best to try and meet each one with love. We don't berate or name-call. We don't point out selfish or self-centered behavior, as the child is in "fight, flight or freeze" mode and therefore everything IS about them in that moment. The Hubs and I try to help give names to our kiddos emotions so they can better understand them, and we reassure them over and over again that there is no behavior, no word, no action that could make us love them any less, or cause them to leave our home. Trust me, I hate storming meltdowns. I hate having to stay calm and having to tolerate things that I would probably never tolerate from a neuro-typical child, but it's what my kids need, so I do it. Then, when they are regulated, I lock myself in the bathroom and scream into a towel. Or cry. Usually both.

     No matter what, though... no matter how out of control behavior becomes, Jay and I are careful to never, EVER threaten the kids with Christmas. I mean, we hear it all the time in public: "If you don't listen, Santa won't come!", "Santa is watching you right now." "You don't want to be on the naughty list.", "Have you been good or bad?" And don't even get me started with that fucking scary-ass big brother-esque always-watching elf! Our kids feel pretty unloveable and unworthy All. The. Time. They constantly feel like if they are "bad", someone is going to come take them away or that they will lose your love. It's awful that a kid would ever feel that way to begin with, so making them feel that even more at Christmas is just not fair. Neuro-typical or not, please don't let your kids think that the approval of Santa, or "God", or you, hinges on being "good", especially when a kid doesn't see themselves that way. Our two know that no matter what, Santa is going to come through for them, because they are kind-hearted, loving people, who make mistakes, just like everyone else.

     And lastly, we work to establish new traditions with our kids. Ones that they actively participate in, like visiting a favorite location, or attending a specific show that they enjoy. It doesn't even have to be holiday-themed! Who says my new Christmas Eve tradition can't be getting ice cream or going on a bike ride? We let the kids pick things that are special to them, and we include them in our holiday experience each year, so that they understand that they are making their imprint on this family too. (Ours usually turn out to be Disney-related but if you know us, there's nothing surprising about that!)

     So that's how I'm getting through. The Hubs and I are doing the best we can to navigate our amazing, brave, wonderful, hurt kiddos through this season, day by day. I'm getting through by reminding myself that it's only temporary and that even though this particular time of year makes me feel like we have taken a couple of steps back, overall my kids have taken enormous leaps forward this year. That gets me though. That and anxiety meds.

The Fat-Shaming Mile-High Club

     I work for an airline. The BEST airline. I love my job. I do NOT love phone calls like this:

Me: Greeting for the best airline, how can I help you tonight?

Customer: I just wanted you to know I had a great flight leaving Florida last week, but my flight back was awful.

Me: Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. What went wrong? What could we do better?

Customer: I got sat next to this lady and she was enormous. I mean, as she came down the aisle, everyone had to lean in to let her even walk by. It was ridiculous. I was praying she wasn't coming to sit next to me, and of course, she was. She was very polite and everything but she sat down and just lopped on over into my seat. Then she had to ask the stewardess for one of those extra seatbelts.

Me: (pretty disgusted, but staying matter-of-fact) A seatbelt extender.

Customer: I guess that's what you call it. To me, they shouldn't even offer those. If the seatbelt doesn't fit you, you shouldn't be able to fly.

Me: .... (Stunned silence. How do you respond to that? Especially when you've had to use one of those seatbelt extenders yourself, in the past.)

Customer: Anyway, she took up so much of my seat. I was just SO uncomfortable.

Me: (in my head) Imagine how she felt.

Me: (out loud) I am sorry to hear that your flight was less than enjoy-

Her: (interrupting) ... And THEN, get THIS.... she pulls out a bag of food from her backpack and starts eating pretzels and chips and all kinds of stuff!

Me: (knowing full well what she is implying): Yes, customers are welcome to bring aboard any food that they so choose.

Her: Yeah, well you'd think, given her size, she'd at least not eat like that in public.

Me: (in my head) Wait, what the FUCK, lady? Not only is her size offensive to you, but she's not supposed to EAT in front of you???? Like a goddamned human being???

Me: (out loud) ....... (There WAS no 'out loud'. More stunned silence.)

Now My Least Favorite Customer Ever: I was just disgusted. I mean, really, it's not right. If someone is that size, they should have to buy two seats, or buy first class or something. It's just not fair.

Me: (in my head) No, what's not fair is being told you have to pay double what everyone else does, when you're already in an uncomfortable and awkward situation, as it is. What's not fair is being judged by rude-ass bitches around you who think they know you, just by looking at you. THAT'S what's not fair, lady.

Me: (out loud) I am sorry you feel that way, but that would be discrimination, ma'am. We would never make someone pay more because they happen to weigh more, just like we wouldn't make my husband pay more because he's 6'5". I am certainly sorry to hear that you were uncomfortable, and I'd be happy to issue you-

Worst Customer Ever: (interrupting me again) I'm not looking for anything, but I really don't think I should have to have even been put in that situation. I mean, I ended up telling her that her belly was resting on my armrest and I couldn't get comfortable.

Me: ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!



     At this point, The Worst Customer Ever continues her tirade about fat people being the bain of her existence and how she understands because she once weighed almost 200 pounds, but she did something about it and got a nutritionist and dietician and lost weight because no one else should have to deal with someone else's weight issue. (She seriously said that! Seriously. AND how much more frickin privileged could you sound, lady? Like everyone has money laying around to pay a nutritionist and dietician.) Anyway, how the rest of the call went, you can just imagine. Needless to say, I was very glad to move on to another call, and my far more common, happy customer who just needed a receipt resent. He didn't even have a peep to make about his overweight fellow passengers! Go figure!

      I share this with you, not to bitch about my ugly, hateful customer, but to demonstrate to you how wildly open people feel about being judgemental and rude to overweight people. She TOLD the woman her belly was resting on her armrest. Like the woman was not painfully, and I bet shamefully, aware of this fact. Granted, hate seems to be growing stronger by the day lately on all fronts, but all along, fat-shaming has been a constant, acceptable way to communicate with overweight people.  Being overweight is looked at as a choice. One that a lazy, selfish person makes. I mean, obviously, because why would you NOT choose to not fit comfortably into a world that is literally not designed for you? Why would you NOT want to struggle to find affordable, stylish clothes that fit? Why would you NOT want to be stared at, laughed at and made fun of? Clearly, this is a choice that I have made, along with my fellow fatties. We like being like this. And we love being fat-shamed! Especially while on an uncomfortable, anxiety-raising airplane flight. Jesus, for all that lady knew, her overweight seatmate may have been flying to a parent's funeral, or to her own destination wedding, or to volunteer with hurricane relief in the Gulf. The point is, you don't know JACK about someone else's story. You know even less about their body. Keep your comments and judgments to yourself. I only wish I had a way to know who her seatmate was and how to contact her. Man would I love for her to know that I see her, and that I've got her back.

     Oh, and one more lesson, kids. Never put down a group of people over the phone to a total stranger, because you have no idea if the person you are speaking with fits neatly into the group you are marginalizing and hating on. You never know. Here's one thing that you can know for sure though: KINDNESS IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED. Use it, freely and plentifully. All the time. You'll never run out. I promise.

Seriously..... FUCK Halloween Candy.

     

Ok, it's not JUST Halloween candy. I have hit a wall. I have a giant elliptical machine looming behind me, calling my name, taunting me...... "Heeeeeey, Loser..... you gonna quit? Yeah, you are. You always quit. That's why you're a Fatty McFatterson." My elliptical can be a real dick sometimes.

     Halloween candy has indeed been rough on me, but so has laziness and stress. All the stress. All the time. Being a mom is really hard. Being a mom to two kids with special needs is wearing me the fuck out. Every day there's a new crisis.... Therapy appointment is changed, 9 year old's panic attack over homework is out of control and she needs help regulating, 6 year old is off his meds and off the wall, had to change 9 year old's teacher due to non-compliance with her 504, another appointment with the principal.... on and on. All you moms of kids from hard places out there feel me. Every day is a new emergency. And a new excuse, really.

     But here's the truth of it: I think I want to fuck this all up. Well, I don't, but my subconscious does. Remember when I first started on my quest to find the big-bright-shiny-Jenn-light-that-burns-so-bright, just a couple of months ago? Remember how I kept saying that it was freaking me out that it was so easy? That's because I am not comfortable with taking care of myself. I am not comfortable feeling sexy, healthy, worthy... any of that. The stress and the Halloween candy, they are just self-sabotage really. I can't lie... some part of me is relieved that I am starting to struggle. Some part of me thinks I deserve this fat, motionless, boring life. Screw her. Screw that part of me. Seriously, she's a waste of space. The healthier, energetic, happier me is SO much better.

      Today I totally gave in. Today I ate pretty much whatever I wanted, and guess how I felt after? Awful. Not sick-to-my-stomach awful, (I didn't actually eat that much, just stuff I haven't been eating), just gross. I felt heavier, slower, tired, depressed. Yucky enough to realize that I am being dumb. Time to lace the sneakers back up, and tell the elliptical 'Enough sassin' me, I'm back.' Time to make my weight loss tracker stop looking like rolling hills and more like a steep dive off a cliff. Here's hoping my sanity doesn't go with it!

Puttering Along... Oh and FUCK Halloween Candy.

Hey, ya'll!

     I'm just doing a quick check-in. I'm still doing well, but I gotta admit, I've had my first couple of days of backsliding. Nothing major, just overindulging a bite here and a bite there. Oh, and there's goddamn Halloween candy in the house. We took the kids to an early trick-or-treating event at Disney Springs and they got a pretty good haul, goddamnit.

     In case you can't tell, my mood hasn't been great lately. We are struggling financially and that always stresses me out to no end. We've had a crazy schedule as The Hubs starts his new job and my kiddos are struggling with new meds, new therapies, etc. I'm stressed, and feeling yucky about myself. The funny thing is, when I attacked the Halloween candy and found myself looking down at 4 mini-Twix wrappers in the trash, I felt relieved. Like, 'Oh, there I am! There's the girl that doesn't matter much and is ok with being a slob.' I know, I know... it's a horrible thing to think and feel, but I'm just being truthful here. Don't worry... I delivered a swift kick to that chick's butt and pointed out that we DO matter, and told her to get the hell back on board or get out.

     I am now down 28 pounds, so I'm not doing terribly... just slowed down some. I have made the commitment to myself to get back to tracking my intake in the Lose It app more carefully, (which I have admittedly gotten sloppy about), and have told The Hubs that I really, really need to get that damn elliptical in the house so that when the mood strikes me to get off my ass, I have a way to do so, while still staying within arms reach of my sometimes destructive 6-year-old.

     I guess my lesson from this week is that I'm human, and I can forgive myself for being one, withOUT self-destructing. This is a new concept for me. I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm locating that missing big-bright-shiny-Jenn-light, one ray at a time, even when I sometimes try to cover it back up.

A Brush With Sexual Harassment... Just Like Any Other Woman, Any Day of the Week

Photo credit: CBS News

     So this may be a good time to make it known to anyone who may be reading this and doesn't know me personally, that I am proudly, a bleeding-heart liberal. I believe in science. I believe that love is love is love is love, and I am no more worthy of it based on the fact that I am a straight female than any of my LGBTQ friends. I KNOW that Black Lives Matter. I believe in kindness, acceptance, love and compassion for others. I miss the Obamas like they are my own family, (come back, Barack!),  and I am completely and totally disgusted by the state of affairs in this country, thanks to our current administration. There. I'll give you a moment to leave, if you need to.

     Ok, still here? Cool. All of that being said, I need to relate it back to something that I encountered the other day. I had a brush with sexual harassment that I really should NOT be downplaying. I should NOT feel like it doesn't matter. I should NOT have been apologetic for it, but I was, because that's the world we live in. That's rape culture. Alive and well, and about to be voted into the highest court in all the land, in just a few hours time.

     It wasn't a huge deal, (see, there I go again), but it is bothering me so much. I had just pulled into my driveway after picking the Littles up from school, and a neighbor called out to me, asking for a lawn care contact. He was fixing up the house that he owns, after renters had moved out, and he needed the yard taken care of. When he approached the driveway, he realized that I was struggling with my little guy, who was refusing to leave the car. Trauma creates these fun-filled meltdowns at random times that are often seemingly impossible to deal with. The neighbor tried to help out, and trick my little dude into leaving the car to come show him how tall he is, or how fast he could run, but he wasn't biting. Eventually, the neighbor offered to show him how the house repairs were going, and that struck my son as interesting enough to abandon his automotive fortress. The two kids and I walked over to the house, and toured the inside, briefly saying hello to a gentleman who was tinkering with the locks. As we checked out the pool, and the kitchen, I felt the repairman's eyes on me in a super uncomfortable way. I was in a thrown-on sundress, with my hair tossed in a top knot, makeup-less, and sweating from dealing with my kid's meltdown in the 95 degree driveway. Usually when people are looking at me in those scenarios, I can tell it's either out of pity, or wondering if I'm about to keel over. This felt totally different. (Yes, eye contact can feel different. Ask any woman.) It felt predatory. I was happy to leave the house and head back home after a few minutes.

     As we got to the end of the neighbor's driveway, I heard the repairman yelling out, "Hey, hey-hey, hey!" Assuming he was talking to the home owner, I ignored him and kept heading to my house. The next thing I knew, he aggressively was patting my shoulder, still saying, "Hey, hey, hey!" Polite, gentle-mannered female that I am trained to be, I turned and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, did you need something?" He stepped WAY too close, into my personal space and leaned into me. He said, "I like the way you look very much. What is your name?" (English was not his first language, but he certainly spoke it well enough to understand what he was saying to me was NOT appropriate to be saying to a clearly married woman, with her wedding ring intact.) I was totally skeeved out, but as I am 'supposed to', I told him my name and listened to his. When he aggressively, and without having been invited to do so, took my hand and was holding it near his chest, I tried pulling back gently, not wanting to offend, (Lucky me, this man was interested in me!), but he squeezed tighter. He continued, "You look very beautiful. I like you very much. Let's get together." Blushing, I said, "Oh, thank you, but I am married. These are my kids." (Oh yeah, my friggin' KIDS were still standing at my feet, right next to this man, who was pawing at my hand, against my will.) He said, "That's ok. We can be close, close friends. Give me your number. We will get together." Now I was starting to freak out a bit. The neighbor was still standing at the top of his driveway, within earshot. Why wasn't he stepping in? I tried pulling away more forcefully, still saying, "Aw, thank you so much, but no thanks. I don't do that," but he held my hand and now wrist, tighter. "Come on," he continued to insist. I caught a glimpse of my daughter's eyes, and my stomach turned at the balls of this man, acting this way in front of my kids, let alone me. "NO,", I said, and finally pulled away. I walked quickly back to the house, and locked the door behind me, never looking back.

     What the HELL??? I immediately texted the neighbor: "How well do you know that gentleman", (Yes, I was still referring to him as a 'gentleman'!!!), "in your house? He just made me super uncomfortable." The guy texted back, "Sorry about that. He said he wanted to ask you for water, but then got taken by your beauty." What the serious FUCK? You buy that, dude? Oh no, wait... you are living up to YOUR part of our shitty-ass culture that thinks women should be flattered by any sort of attention, so you will defend his gross behavior in front of my kids. Yes, it could have been WAY worse, but that does not make anything about what happened ok. And if you're sitting here thinking, 'Well, that wasn't bad. He thought you were pretty. That's what you want with this whole weight loss thing, isn't it?' No. Fucking NO. I don't want men thinking they have the right to touch me in ANY way, make me uncomfortable, or treat me disrespectfully EVER. But you know why this was ok with the man who harassed me, (yes, that's HARASSMENT), and his employer? Because we, as a society, tell them it is. Just turn on the friggin TV and look at what we are perpetuating. It's disgusting. And it's just getting worse. I am so fearful for my daughter. She has already experienced abuse and mistreatment in her life at the age of 9. She doesn't deserve to ever have to worry about this again. And she certainly didn't deserve to have to see her mother treated like her own voice didn't matter.

     So what am I doing about it? Firstly, I warned the neighbor not to DARE give that man my contact information. I sat my daughter down and had a conversation about consent and apologized to her that I didn't set a great example for her. I should have been more firm even sooner. And I'm making sure I lock my front door, as soon as I get inside, every time I come home. And that suuuuuucks. It sucks to be concerned that maybe that dude won't take the hint, and will come over uninvited, but it would suck even more NOT to be concerned about it and to have it happen. And I am completely and totally done being polite about stuff like this. Yes, I want to be seen as a kind, friendly person, but I cannot let any man cross any lines again, and allow them to think I'll stand for it. My daughter is watching and since our political system can't protect her or show her her value, I will, X 1000, even if it makes me a "bitch".

     I encourage you to watch this clip of the incomparable Lady Gaga on the Colbert show the other night. At the 2:20 mark, they start talking about politics and Gaga brings up Dr. Ford's testimony. Then she explains, in a very eloquent and simple way, what trauma is and what the brain does with it. She absolutely nails it. Yes, men, women remember every freaking disgusting detail of their sexual misconduct, harassment and attack stories, even if they can't remember jack shit before or after it. It gets seared into out brains. Notice I am saying ALL women. That's because I don't think I know a female in this world who does not have their own #metoo moment, or several of them, or even too many to separate them. It's part of day to day life for most of us. For your wife, your girlfriend, your mother, your sister, your friends. What are YOU doing to do to make sure it's not your daughter, too? Why not start with using your vote to change the tide? The women in your life will love you even more for it. Promise.

One Month In.

Hey, you're back!

     Thanks for continuing to care how I'm doing. Maybe you're here out of support, (thanks so much!), maybe for support, (you GOT this, girl!), and maybe out of morbid curiosity to see when the fat girl will give up and get on with being fat, (I admire your honesty). No matter why you're here, I welcome you.

     So I am officially 4 weeks in and this is still so freakin' bizarre, but it's going great! Guys, I even managed to go away to Boston for a couple of nights on a mini-vacay and NOT tank myself. In the past, vacations have TOTALLY been my excuse to completely quit dieting of any kind and basically eat whatever I can get my hands on. Not this time. I mean, I did indulge a bit more than I have been while in Boston, having a few forkfuls of Chinese food, and a rich pesto flatbread pizza. Even a half of a black and white cookie! (If you're from the Northeast, or have been there, and you now live in Florida, I am certain you do not fault me for any of this, as decent Chinese food does not even exist in Orlando, nor does anything resembling an Italian pastry.) But other than my indulgences, I mostly ate the stuff I have been eating.... veggies, fruit, eggs, yogurt, etc., and stayed on track. In fact, when I came back, I was pleased to see that I had stayed the same weight. And since then? Crushin it!

Down over 25 pounds! (Over by a sneeze, but I'll take it!) I'm officially seeing a difference in clothes and stuff. The only problem is the stuff that now fits nicely that did not fit before, that I REALLY want to wear is all long sleeves and pants and Orlando weather has decided to NOT participate in Fall. 

Yuck. 

     So how am I keeping motivated? Seriously, my Spotify playlist is helping a TON. (Check it out! Get It Girl, on Spotify) I have always known that music is a super powerful tool. It helps amplify and give voice to feelings, and that is exactly what many of these songs are doing for me right now. Have you ever listened to Sarah Bareillies's "She Used To Be Mine", from the musical, "Waitress"? It's amazing. Hauntingly sad, but also so incredibly real and relatable. Here's the link, and the lyrics:

It's not simple to say

That most days I don't recognize me

That these shoes and this apron

That place and its patrons

Have taken more than I gave them

It's not easy to know

I'm not anything like I used be, although it's true

I was never attention's sweet center

I still remember that girl

She's imperfect, but she tries

She is good, but she lies

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won't ask for help

She is messy, but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine

It's not what I asked for

Sometimes life just slips in through a back door

And carves out a person and makes you believe it's all true

And now I've got you

And you're not what I asked for

If I'm honest, I know I would give it all back

For a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two

For the girl that I knew

Who'll be reckless, just enough

Who'll get hurt, but who learns how to toughen up

When she's bruised and gets used by a man who can't love

And then she'll get stuck

And be scared of the life that's inside her

Growing stronger each day 'til it finally reminds her

To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes

That's been gone, but used to be mine

Used to be mine

She is messy, but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine. 

Beautiful, huh? I may not be a waitress, and I may not be stuck with a man who can't love.... and I don't even want any redo's, but I can relate so well to losing yourself and not knowing who you've become. That's how I started on this journey, afterall. Call it a mid-life crisis, if you want, but I think most 30 or 40 somethings can relate to this feeling of loss. You do have to give yourself a human moment to mourn the things that you did not become, that you thought you would, but you also have to take that minute to realize there's still time. Life may be a whirlwind right now, but there's still time to seek out those parts of your life that you wanted and perhaps gave up on. I'm trying to use that idea as my rocket fuel to keep moving forward. It's working for the moment, so I'm gonna go with it. 

    What kind of dreams and hopes have you given up on? Is there a way to still reach for it? I bet there is. And I believe in you. Get it, girl. (Or Guy.)