True Love

Last night before we went to sleep I spent a few minutes laying on my Mat's chest.

Dead weight.

Just laying there in my oversized t-shirt on his bare chest listening to him breath while we talked about our life.

It's easy to do when you're half his size.

I told him I loved him. He told me he loved me too.

I said, "you do huh? like you really love me"

And he said, "yeah."

Except he took a deep breath before saying it. He kind of sighed when he said it.

It made me laugh and I told him that it sounded... heavy. Like loving me is heavy.

It is.

I know I'm a lot.

He laughed because he is well aware. 

He knows it takes guts, wit, patience, and so much humor to love me.

Tonight I sat on our bed wrapped in a big fluffy blanket on my macbook AND my phone while he worked and watched tv from the recliner he has in our bedroom.

I was working on sending out emails for The Hip Handmade Market, helping do some planning for a friend's campaign, and thinking about a few extra things we had come up that we weren't expecting at work all at the same time.

I looked up to see him smiling and starring at me.

I paused for a minute and asked him what.

"I love seeing you like this. In your element. I know there's so much going on in that brain of yours."

Love is real you guys.



I post this on Facebook pretty much every year. But this should be its permanent home.


Every year on Martin Luther King Jr day I think of this story. As a sensitive human and more so as a mom it totally got me. Telling our children about history, about why they are "mixed" and what that means, about how not long ago their daddy and I couldn't have been married legally, how people discriminate others for just the color of their skin or where they're from or the way they talk is a tough one. Their child hearts and brains don't compute such hate, ignorance, or bigotry. Neither does mine. Luckily I haven't experienced or witnessed too terrible acts of hate as I know were normal and are still every day occurrences for some. I love what MLK Jr stood for, what his name and legacy still stand for, and appreciate this day to reflect on that even if it makes me sad. One of my favorite things about him and his story is that despite his downfalls and we all know some of them, he persisted. He still did the thing and the work THROUGH the struggles of his own selfish sins. The same kind we all struggle with. I've shared this story the last couple of years and I probably will every year. It's a good reminder of how far we've come and how much more we still need to work on just being kind to one another, doing unto others as we would have them do unto us... No matter what they look like or where they come from.

"Well, it all began at Christmas two years ago, when my daughter was four years old. And it was the first time that she had ever asked about what did this holiday mean. And so I explained to her that this was celebrating the birth of Jesus. And she wanted to know more about that. And we went out and bought a kid's Bible and had these readings at night. She loved them, wanted to know everything about Jesus.

So we read a lot about his birth and about his teaching, and she would ask constantly what that phrase was. And I would explain to her that it was "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." And we would talk about those old words and what that all meant, you know?

And then one day, we were driving past a big church, and out front was an enormous crucifix. She said, "Who is that?" And I guess I'd never really told that part of the story. So I had this sort of "Yeah, oh, well, that's Jesus. And I forgot to tell you the ending. Yeah, well, he ran afoul of the Roman government." This message that he had was so radical and unnerving to the prevailing authorities of the time that they had to kill him. They came to the conclusion that he would have to die. That message was too troublesome.

It was about a month later after that Christmas. We'd gone through the whole story of what Christmas meant, and it was mid-January. And her preschool celebrates the same holidays as the local schools. So Martin Luther King Day was off. So I knocked off work that day, and I decided we'd play and I'd take her out to lunch. And we were sitting in there, and right on the table where we happened to plop down was the art section of the local newspaper. And there, big as life, was a huge drawing by a 10-year-old kid in the local schools of Martin Luther King.

And she said, "Who's that?" And I said, "Well, as it happens, that's Martin Luther King. And he's why you're not in school today. So we're celebrating his birthday. This is the day we celebrate his life." And she said, "So who was he?" And I said, "Well, he was a preacher." And she looks up at me and goes, "For Jesus?" And I said, "Yeah. Yeah, actually, he was. But there was another thing that he was really famous for, which is that he had a message."

And you're trying to say this to a four-year-old. This is the first time they ever hear anything, so you're just very careful about how you phrase everything. So I said, "Well, yeah, he was a preacher and he had a message." She said, "What was his message?" And I said, "Well, he said that you should treat everybody the same no matter what they look like."

And she thought about that for a minute. And she said, "Well, that's what Jesus said." And I said, "Yeah, I guess it is. I never thought of it that way, but yeah." And that is sort of like, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." And she thought for a minute and looked up at me and said, "Did they kill him too?" {Jack Hitt on This American Life Episodes 188 + 605: Kid Logic…/episo…/605/kid-logic-2016}

I love driving and where we live the sky is vast and the stars bright. I think I see shooting stars often. However, I also know myself and convince my mind it's probably just something else out of the corner of my eye or a reflection off my glasses or something else. Tonight, when I was almost home from a 4 hour drive, I'm 100% sure I saw a meteor. It was beautiful and then I cried at how perfect it was and the reassurance that God knows what we need and when we need it and gives it to us freely. I had just been thinking about how I needed to post this story again and then this video below came to mind. Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have A Dream" speech along with Bey's Freedom is POWERFUL.  This is one of my favorite Beyonce performances. (+ that fringe you guys...) Happy Day! 


Sometimes I do read more news or listen to more talk radio but this girl that feels too much cannot handle listening to everything going on in our world. So I start most mornings with just listening to NPR's UpFirst. It is just enough of what I need/want to be in the know about, + I can always dive in more on my own if I want to. Steve Inskeep makes my mornings! Monday when he quoted Donald Trump I almost spit my toothpaste out. He didn't have to make a comment, just read what Mr. Trump said and it speaks for itself. Steve Inskeep is honest and blunt without being smug or rude and asks the questions that should be asked. 

Today I knew El Salvador would be talked about.

It's rough being what my friend Julia calls "a coconut". Brown on the outside, white on the inside. It kind of offended me at first, because though I knew it, I'd never been referred to that way. But it is who I am. I enjoy brunch and yoga like all the white girls but would never turn down a pupusa or be afraid to go to the sketchy taco place. I am both proud of this country and saddened by it. I am both concerned about being careful and protective of its borders and pro the "American Dream".

I AM The American Dream. I am blessed, lucky, fortunate, privileged. My mother suffered for me to be where I am today. It is only by God's grace that I am here. That I live in a house with finished floors, heat, plumbing. 

TPS is why I was allowed to stay here. And though I have not been under TPS for a long time now, nor do I think that I am in danger or losing my right to be here. It does cross my mind. 

From when they are toddlers we tell our kids those mantras we think will help them be who they are where they are, yet want them to excel in everything they do. We use those phrases you tell yourself to make you feel better about not losing the weight or quitting the job. The lines you repeat to allow yourself to be lazy. Though I agree that you should work with what you have and make the most of what you're given... What are we teaching our children when we tell them that "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit" or to "make it do, or do without"? Don't we all want better for them? For ourselves, for our community, for those around us, for our world? 

You get what you get and you don't throw a fit, but what if what you get is nothing?

El Salvador TPS convo - at 4:35


Usually when I break, it happens slowly. I see it coming. Every time, I try to delay it though I know it's inevitable.

The hardest part about being bipolar is realizing you're in a manic phase only when you're about to come down from it. The manic phase is kind of awesome though. You're so productive and you feel the most like yourself. You could take on the world! Last week + weekend I caught up with friends, took down the Christmas tree THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS (never happens!), went through the kids' clothes, organized and set up all christmas gifts they got, went through my clothes and donated a lot, cleaned out my drawers, organized my shoes, got HHM applications going, worked a few hours at my old job aside from my regular job, and countless other things. By Sunday evening around 5:30pm (New Year's Eve), while I was building a shelf, I started to feel kind of light headed... I thought back to my day and realized I hadn't eaten at all that day and had only had like 3 sips of one of the kids' gatorade. That's another symptom of mania - you don't need sleep, food, or care about consequences much. I told myself I'd eat after I finished building that shelf. (Which was the second one I'd put together that day by the way. - queen emoji) Then I ate a few bites of some leftovers, ordered something from a local restaurant for us all, and went to pick it up. On my drive I thought - "oh, I'm manic. Dammit. ok. It'll be fine. I got this." Came home, didn't eat much more and wanted so badly to not stay up until midnight. Of course I did because #momlife. Part of me craved going out to any of the places we were invited to, but wasting time showering and getting ready when there was so much to do at home still was not happening. I begrudgingly played card games with the kids and M. God allowed me to turn the tv on when Britney was performing and then Imagine Dragons was next so that helped. Wait, is it begrudgingly or grudgingly? The Grudge was a terrible movie you guys. It scared me so bad.

I managed to avoid it so far but by Monday afternoon I was fizzling out. I reached out to some friends, sent multiple texts. Did the texts say help me? I need a friend? nope. Just inappropriate jokes and conversations trying to delay the darkness. I only mentioned something about post holiday blues and how wishing I could just be productive without having to get out of bed to one person. Then I did the hard thing. I text M and told him I wanted to be a blob. He told me he'd be home soon and it would all be ok. He's been there for me so many times. I told him he should play video games that night and get a new headset before his surgery the next day. I thought I was being a cool, nice, understanding wife when I suggested this. Now looking back I wonder if I pushed him into Call of Duty so that I could try to cling to my mania a little longer. I scheduled out my Tuesday kind of heavy after Mathew's *procedure. But I felt off. I didn't sleep much and when I was driving him to the doctor's office he asked if I always drove so anxiously and cautiously - definitely not. I just knew we'd die on the way to the office. All day my mind was distracted and wanted to chase something to numb the bad feelings, something to make it feel good, even if it was just temporary. I trudged on and checked off everything on my to do list. I finally got some sleep that night. Then today, I hit a wall. I thought I was ok, I thought I would go back to work and be productive and just kind of ease over the transition back down from the manic phase.

I didn't.

I completely broke down. Luckily, my boss was on a phone meeting when I felt the tears rise up. I was right in the middle of some work when all of a sudden I wanted to just crawl under the desk and never come out. I went to the bathroom and though I tried to stop it, I cried a little. I looked in the mirror and man.. it wasn't good. I decided I needed out. I emailed him and let him know I'd be right back. I knew I needed to get outside so I'd walk to the coffee shop I'd just been at an hour earlier. As soon as the freezing cold air hit me and I took in lots of deep breaths, I felt a little better. I talked with the coffee shop owner, ordered my soda, sat there for a few minutes, then walked around the block a few times. During this time my boss emailed me and asked if I would be ok, said he had chocolate, and asked if there was anything he could do... The best boss I tell you. I asked a friend if I could pop in and see them, but they were unavailable at the time so I just kept walking and breathing and tearing up and being still and praying and letting go. I texted a friend and got nothing but love and wisdom. I did what I needed to do for me then. As embarrassed as I am about it, if we saw each other right now I'd say - "I had an anxiety attack today! But I'm ok now." The reason it's embarrassing is because NOTHING was wrong. Nothing. Just me. 

The hardest part about the awesomeness that is being manic is knowing that that crash is coming. Knowing that you won't be able to avoid it and just holding on and hoping people stick by you. That they love you despite it and don't consider your friendship a burden like you think they should. 

The best part about the the crash, the coming down, it balancing back out, is feeling the weight come off. Letting the crash happen and then carrying on. I am so happy I have Mathew, my mom, by brother, my friends, my kids. I can say, "I had an anxiety attack today! But I'm ok now." And they just know it's part of who I am, part of what makes me feel so much, love so big, and try my best.

In Love Warrior Glennon Doyle talks to herself and says, "treat yourself like someone you love, Glennon. Listen to what you want and need and give it to yourself. Be your own friend." Today I stepped away. I went outside in the cold. I showed my crazy to people that I wish would never have seen it. But it's ok. I did, said, and asked for what I needed and that crippling pit of darkness and despair lasted only hours not days. This evening I got to see my mom and brother and help celebrate my grandma's 80th birthday after work with my kiddos. They made her birthday cards during the day and used google translate to say what they wanted to say in Spanish and make sure it was spelled correctly. It made my heart happy and it appeased my soul to hug on my family and be around them. Tonight I showered (and danced) with Beyonce blasting, picked out my clothes for tomorrow, and am ready for what Thursday brings. 

Side note: Mathew had a vasectomy on Tuesday morning. I appreciate him because we know we are good with our two children and if we ever do have the desire to have more, we'll adopt or foster. I had scary deliveries both times and we both don't want to go through that again. Not to mention the hormone craziness that goes on ALONG with the mental illness. He did this for us and I am so thankful to him but guys, he's fine. It's not like he had a baby or something. He'll be fine in a couple of days and Call of Duty is keeping his company.