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Brown Eyes & A Mixed Bag: A Hodgepodge of Updates

I stopped wearing eyeliner. For a long time I hid behind it. I don't know why, it was my armor.

The truth is the last few months, I've been doing a lot of different things. From scaling back on workouts (yoga, barre!), to taking a step back on volunteering (gasp!), sporting long, bright nails, and the biggest change of all - changing jobs.

Doing scary things is nothing new. I've always said - if the dream scares you, it's worth going after. Finding joy is my eternal pursuit. I'm well aware you make your own happiness and should not depend on anyone else for it. I've learned to surround myself with people who bring me joy, uplift me, and bring the best out in me. I do my best to return the favor.

But all these changes haven't been easy. As I've taken the time to focus more on myself, I've discovered all the voids that I had neglected. I've (re)discovered my power, my potential, and my love for challenges. In the past months I've spoken on panels around financial inclusion, led civic engagement efforts in my community, and demanded local government listen to the needs of their disabled constituents. I've done a keynote speech, gone out on a walk with coworkers at midnight in Vegas, challenged Bankers, and cried so much because despite it all I still can't believe I get to do this. The weight of it all is sometimes unbearable, but the pressure of not getting it done is worse.

Maybe I'm finally letting my true self out. I'm feeling comfortable with the decisions I'm making. I'm feeling ok saying "I don't know." And, for the first time in my 19 years of being in the workforce, ok with taking a "Mental Health Day."

I don't know what the goal of this blog post was; this morning I took my mandatory selfie and realized how big my eyes looked without eyeliner and realized I didn't pack it and felt scared. Then I thought it was worth mentioning how something so small was so big for me. But maybe, someone will find value in what I shared, because even though it seems like I have it together - I'm just another girl who is holding a glass of wine trying to figure it out.

[singlemamachronicle]

Moving Al{on}g

I always admire people who say they're "no longer the person they were before." or "their old self is dead." I thought I needed to get to that point too.

Over the last 20 years, I've learned to define life on my terms. Being a survivor means ups and downs constantly. It's hearing people who say they've moved on, left the past in the past and feeling a sense of failure because decades later you're still triggered. What's wrong with me? you ask yourself. Why can't I move on?

The reality is, moving along is just as fine. Not being stuck, and recognizing there is better. I'm human, with feelings and I'm going to react to factors that are outside my control. Growth for me has been the true measure of success - being able to recognize my past experiences are part of who I am, but not the only things to define me. Being able to have boundaries, and remind myself that I am the only person who can create my own happiness - now that is a true definition of moving on.

I now know 17-year old me made the right choice, and the years of struggle, guilt and shame that followed were only a few tests in the journey to ensure I'd appreciate the destination. I'm not there yet, but every day I'm taking the time to take a look at that rearview mirror and thank that girl for being so brave.

**If you know anyone who is experiencing DV please have them call 800-799-7233**

[singlemamachronicle]

XX

I don't know how we got here, but we did.

I recently shared a photo of you on my shoulders. Back then, not only did I carry you and your sister, but I felt like I carried the world's expectations, the critic's ill wishes to fail, and the pressure to succeed, on my shoulders. Things were heavy. Life was heavy. And dark. And so damn hard.

But there was always joy on your end. And because of the unmeasurable happiness you both gave me I felt strong enough to keep going. You couldn't tell me nothin'!

I take a look at the past two decades and all the joy you've brought, so here's 20 things that you have given the world, things that we love, and memories that I hope will make you smile:

2003 - You came to the world! That's it, that's the list (Just kidding!)

You said, I" love you mom" for the first time! (2007)

The way you've handled 6 surgeries - you've got more courage than anyone I know!

That time you wanted a mohawk haircut so bad...and got one!

When you dressed up like Abe Lincoln and performed in front of the class

Being the favorite at Saturplay! (shhh...no one's supposed to know that)

Our first WS Walk - and meeting our people!

Meeting a pilot and getting invited to the cockpit.

The White House Egg Roll and meeting DJ Lance!

Meeting Luciano and making him your instant best friend - proving you were a cat person

That time you were VIP at the Fair - and got to spend the day with the queen of the fair.

Your face when we took you to Disneyland. So much joy in one moment!

Your First Communion and Confirmation - where you read in front of the whole church!

Being the Best Man at our wedding and your amazing speech

You being a total natural in Paris & Rome

Following a lady around Petsmart because you fell in love with corgis and we ended up adopting one.But we forgot you were a cat person so Versace became the family's dog.

Mexico! Tequila, jet skis, snorkeling, and lots of dancing!

Finding your way through the Albania maze in El Salvador and ringing that bell

Your first job which earned you so much admiration from so many.

Transitions - adulthood. You continue to make everyone proud.

There are many, many, MANY more moments to come. I will continue to worry, and nag, and brag about you. I am immensely proud of the young man you are. When the cards were stacked against you, you effortlessly proved you can't be underestimated and that is perhaps, single-handedly the most important lesson you've taught me.

Let's see what this trip around the sun bring you, my sonshine.

All the love,

Momma

I will forever have your back. I promise.

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Transitions.

"If we ain't got no money I can make it I ain't afraid of working to the bone When I don't know what I'm do and I can fake it I'll pray till Jesus rolls away the stone

And I'm a riser I'm a get up off the ground, don't run and hider Pushin' comes a-shovin' Hey I'm a fighter When darkness comes to town, I'm a lighter A get out aliver, of the fire, survivor"

Riser, Dierks Bentley

I love moving on to new things. There is so much excitement and anticipation. The feeling of starting something new - different. Good or bad, transitions always mean different.

The past few years have been transition from young mama, to mama, to the parent of two young adults. From watching my daughter not want to spend a single moment with me, to driving all over town for my son to be a part of activities for his mental health and thinking that it would soon just be me. But life is tricky that way.

Now my weekends are spent planning something with Gina, morning walks with Jeremy, and the weird feeling that things come full circle.

Life is perfect in its own way. Learning to accept that your kids have their own lives but always want you to be in theirs is a beautiful thing. The painful, uncomfortable conversations of having been a 17-year old mama of two and making endless mistakes because I did what I could with what I knew and sitting there listening how that impacted their lives.

And then those special moments of thank you and I love you's. The text messages they'll be out all night but are safe. Or the need to still hold your hand when being out in public creates too much anxiety.

Yes, we're all grown, and we've all transitioned into different stages of our lives but I think that at this point, the one constant is that we're always there for each other.

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Challenging The Status Quo: The Power of Inclusion

I’ve often found myself feeling angry, frustrated and helpless over the last few years. Knowing Jeremy’s transition to adulthood and the real world is imminent causes a lot of anxiety. There’s a lot of excitement for sure, and so much hope, but also fear and uncertainty - not because I don’t think he can’t do it, but because society isn’t willing to.

In 1987, President Reagan declared March to be Developmental Disabilities Awareness Month. It wasn’t until 1990 when the Americans with Disabilities Act was passed, months after the “Capitol Crawl” took place to demand the House to pass the law. To think that just 33 years ago there wasn’t a mandate to provide inclusivity for people with disabilities is mind blowing to me. But, is it really?

Day in and day out, Jeremy (and his amazing peers) navigate a world that is not designed to include him. We move too fast, we’re too loud, we’re too into ourselves. We recognize students for 4.0 GPA’s and award them with endless accolades. But students like him who have to memorize bus routes, learn adaptive curriculums, and navigate life skills AND academic subjects are not eligible for a diploma. They don’t even get recognized during graduation. Good try, but not worth as much. The school system already sets him up for failure and excludes him from certain jobs simply because he doesn't get a high school diploma. I am excited to see a shift in our thinking around vocational and technical programs because that gives Jeremy and other people who are not able (or don't want to) pursue a traditional college degree an opportunity for a meaningful, good paying job.

We know that people with disabilities are disproportionately underemployed or unemployed. According to the CDC, only about 22% of people with disabilities are active participants in the job force. I can attest to that. We’ve gone to countless interviews, and do not get a call back. It’s infuriating to see that other people don’t place value on the incredible skills Jeremy brings to the table. Think about your places of employment - are they designed to include others? Do you feel that you think about that?

This post isn’t about Jeremy, and our experiences, or lack there of. This is about the celebration of an incredible group of people who are changing the narrative around “disability” and what that means to the world. Gone are the days where people needed to feel “sorry” for them. I am so proud to see Jeremy and his friends thrive, participate, and challenge the status quo. I am so fortunate to have the energy to keep fighting the fight to raise awareness (especially during all our doctor’s appointments) on what it means to work with him. So my ask to you, or rather, my challenge to you - reading this - is to educate yourself. Google the ADA, the Capitol Crawl, and other disabilities. Look around you and acknowledge and celebrate the person with a disability next to you. I guarantee you will learn more from them, than they will from you.

[singlemamachronicle]

Chicāhuac

Chicāhuac - Strong (N. Nahuat)

When I was younger, I heard comments about how we should stay out of the sun so our skin didn't get dark. Ser "blanquita" meant you were beautiful. Not India. I didn't understand but I walked around with a little parasol when I went to church.

I never understood why my tia Mila talked about how loved she felt even though she was so "prieta."

The older I got, the more I understood that colonization resulted in everyone associating anything/anyone not white as less than. Colorism and racism are inherently ingrained in our families because that's what was needed to survive. The dissociation with our ancestors was a means to fit in, which resulted in the loss of so much of our culture. I wanted to know more.

Last year I visited El Salvador after 18 years. I went back with an open heart and mind, knowing that points of views had not changed and that I'd be welcomed with open arms because I was married to a white guy (see the story of my family's sense of pride for marrying a gringo). I made it a point to take a trip to Nahuizalco where there is history about the Pipil people and our Nahuat language. I learned so much from the locals, read a lot, and realized that our people had not been spared and felt anger - so much anger.

The visit to the Nahuizalco left a huge impact. Visiting the pre-school where kids were being taught our native language was inspiring and I've been learning everything I can since then. Recently I finally decided to take a DNA test to get a more accurate understanding of my background. The results showed something I wasn't sure of - how much Nahua/Otomi there is in me - and I finally feel like I can truly make my people proud.

For so long I felt lost - this idea to assimilate to make it, to be less Salvadoreña, to speak and look a certain way ruled over my life for far too long. I know it's never too late to dig deeper to find your identity and feel at peace with who you are. So today, as a homage to mi cultura I tattooed a Flor De Izote and the Nahuat word for strong on my arm.

Strong - like my people.

Oh, and the best part - G got a matching tattoo with me.

[singlemamachronicle]

A Bumpy 2023 Start...

The year of the Rabbit has started off - well all over the place. I am convinced that it is going to be a good year. Scratch that - it's going to be a GREAT year.

But along with a bunch of plans comes a lot of planning. There's also this newfound sense of responsibility and pressure that comes along with being VP at an organization. I take my job very seriously for 2 reasons: because I know when other young mamas see me it's proof they can too be anything they want to be and because my family came to this country to have their children do something they simply couldn't put into words. I deeply believe I can help leave this world better than it was for me.

But it's not just work that's been taking a toll - my mental health has been a little shaky. The feelings of doubt, loneliness and simply not being good enough have made a reappearance and because my priorities have been all over the place - catering and supporting others - I've forgotten about me. And my body made sure to remind me it needs me to take care of me when I ended up at urgent care last week. Ignoring the fact I haven't been feeling well for months finally took a toll and now things are a bit up in the air as I have to get myself together.

I always say working out and reading has been my saving grace. I've had to cut back on my workout time because I want to get my day started earlier and I have had a hard time catching up with my reading because I'm so tired by the end of the day.

I took a mental health day today. It was hard to make that decision but as I sit here I am so glad I did. If I'm not ok for me, I'm not going to be ok for anyone. I am sure it's going to take a little time to get back into the groove - and I hope this helps someone else. We come first.

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New Year - Same Me

I have a very good feeling about 2023 and I'm not even worried about jinxing it.

The theme of my life for 2022 was acceptance.

Acceptance that there are so many things out of my control that I simply cannot change.

Acceptance that people have lives, get busy, but it doesn't mean they love you any less.

Acceptance that sometimes you have to reach out to make sure the people you care about are doing ok because you know that's the only way you'll hear from them.

Acceptance that I'm getting older, wiser, and much more relaxed about the excuses because I have accepted that getting worked up doesn't bring me peace.

Acceptance that my kids are amazing young adults navigating a world on their terms with bravery and determination that leaves me in awe.

Acceptance that my body is amazing, whether a size 4 or 6 and a number doesn't define me.

2022 was a great year because I controlled my narrative. I found joy in reading, challenging workouts and programs, volunteering (which led to Volunteer of the Year award ☺️), visiting new vineyards, and spending as much time with friends as I could get. My heart was so full.

I felt a profound sense of peace this year. It felt really good to wake up every day and look forward to going to work, learning from others, and embracing this new role I've found myself in where people ask for support and guidance.

I'm feeling good about '23. I'm feeling excited about the things to come. Excited to continue to grow. Excited to continue to heal. Excited to continue to live. I hope your 2023 is full of love and light and peace.

Now acceptance doesn't mean complacency. That I'll never accept ;)

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Nineteen/Seventeen

Words have escaped me. That doesn't happen very often.

But I do have some thoughts, and feelings, and I'm trying to put the out in paper because it is so important to celebrate you.

If someone told me at seventeen that I was done having kids, I would've laughed so hard.

If someone had told at nineteen that our journey was just getting started and we would be ok, I would've cried in disbelief.

But here we are, nineteen years later and I'm laughing and crying just thinking about the last 2 decades.

I've been fighting for you and your sister your entire life, which is actually more than half my entire life! Being your momma has completed me, it has pushed me to be better, it has challenged me, and it has shown me so much joy. It's brought me tears, and fears, and lots of doubt, and also so much strength.

Every year I remember our labor day - 36 hours of uncertainty. But much like our journey, I just couldn't show I was scared. I had to keep pushing, literally. Every year I feel like I have to write this letter to tell you I never feel like I've done quite enough. Every year I thank you for coming into the world and giving me so much more than I can ever give you.

At nineteen my fears and hopes are different. I fear that the world won't be so kind, and I hope that you will win it over with just who you are. I worry about what adulthood looks like, and I get excited to know you'll teach me that it's going to be ok.

Much like in the early years, we'll keep walking hand in hand - like we always do.

Happiest of birthdays, J. You truly are a gift!

Xoxo,

Momma

Crazy to think I was eighteen here!

...and here we are now!

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Latinx Heritage, The Takeover of Spaces, and Thoughts of Many Firsts

This month was extremely special for me. In person meetings are back and trying to get into the groove of things has been...interesting. But it's also been exciting, and anxiety-inducing, and an opportunity to continue to feel grateful and proud of being in this space.

Twenty-eight years ago I came (back) to the states. As a daughter of an immigrant, born here, I was sent back to El Salvador while my mother made a life, got her papers, and saved money to legally bring my older siblings here. While I never physically crossed that border, my entire life I have felt the effects of the trauma my family faced. The need to make yourself smaller around white people so they don't get mad at you, the pressure to work twice as hard for less money without complaining and being grateful, the importance of keeping our traditions alive. All of it is transferred and I always felt more like an immigrant than a true "American." And because my momma had worked really hard, and I messed up and became a young mama, I had a lot more making up to do.

So here we are two and a half decades later and I'm in spaces where many of the times I'm the only Latinx in the room, and if not, the only Salvadoreña. Sometimes, I want to really call up my mom and tell her about my day and I think about how I'm going to translate it all,

"Mami fui a la Casa Blanca para reunirme con el consejo de politica de genero para hablar de como cambiar legislacion y polizas que puedan incluir madres jovenes - como un dia fui yo."

I think about some of my work and the spaces I am in and how I'm living out the dreams she crossed for, but it's so wild that even if I do share the words would escape me because even I find it hard to believe this is my life. The responsibility that comes with being first generation is real, exhausting, overwhelming; but it's an honor too. Walking the halls of the Capitol, talking to Congress reps and staffers and working to make this a better world is not something I take lightly. Every day I wake up grateful for the opportunities I've been granted, committed to work hard, and dedicated to ensuring that no other Brown girl feels like they don't belong.

The older I get, the more I realize that as much as I celebrate others, I need to celebrate myself. I'm so proud of the accomplishment, and I am so humbled to know that I get to learn every day from people who make me a better person. My Latinidxd holds value, wisdom, strength and magic, and as we close Latinx Heritage Month I want to take a moment to remind my circle that our lives are complex, multi-faceted and oh so colorful. Let's keep celebrating and uplifting each other - there's a lot of work we still need to do.

[singlemamachronicle]

Happier By The Dozen (Times Three)

Over the years I've tried to write about body image and the unhealthy relationship I've had with it since I can remember. When I was eight years old I was put on my first diet. I'm not sure how long it lasted, and it definitely wasn't "successful" but it was the first time I had been ashamed for being overweight. Over the years, I heard comments about being "gorda" (fat) and how I'd grow up and wouldn't find a partner because I was fat. My body started changing and I felt like I had to hide it for fear that I'd be called out for it. And so began my very unhealthy relationship with food, my body, and self-love.

When I was thirteen, I decided to stop eating. I would eat an apple a day - and that was it. Once a week, I'd have a bagel. I lost a ton of weight I didn't recognize myself. No one said anything. Then I got pregnant, and all that was gone. Then I got pregnant again and the comments resurfaced. *Sigh*

For the past 18 years, I tried it all. Diets, calorie counting, working out insanely. Soldier Fit. I was looking for a magic number that was completely unachievable. I just couldn't understand why even when I lost so much weight, I still didn't feel good.

Two years ago I got the Peloton. My goodness I thought - this is it, I'll be fit and skinny and strong and be happy. Two of those things are true. I'm strong AND happy. Through the Peloton community I learned all about self-acceptance and acknowledging my body for what it can do and what it's achieved. Phrases like, "treat your body like it belongs to someone you love" and "self-care is not selfish, it's sacred" aren't just cliché, they're powerful. Working out because you get to, not because you have to lit something in me. Then, I discovered kick-ass young people proudly and unapologetically loving their bodies. Thanking Mother Earth for the food it provides. I started reading how whitewashed the idea of being skinny is. I understood that being healthy is about feeling good, loving yourself, and listening to your body - not the number on the scale and the size of your pants. I cried.

It's taken me *almost* 36 years to love me for me - not for the person I am because I've learned to love her so much, but the body that carries that person. The arms that I tried to hide no longer hide, the legs that I criticized for having too much cellulite are no longer beaten up, and the belly that never went flat after carrying two pregnancies within 18 months of each is enjoying some much needed air in crop tops and two piece bathing suits.

The best gift for my birthday is loving me as a person. This birthday, I won't be watching calories, or calculating the macros of each meal. I'll be laughing and sharing and cherishing the moment as it should be. I'll also be starting my day doing a 90 minute ride because I can, not because I have to. Because working out has made me feel in control of my body and because I do it because I love it, not because I hate it.

Here's to 36 - and more pictures!

Mirror selfies after a workout

[singlemamachronicle]

XX

My, my where did time go and how did we hit 20 already? Two decades of infectious laughs, of a rollercoaster or emotions, and overall joy of being your momma.

Every year I write a letter and take your birthday as an opportunity to reflect on what motherhood means - because thanks to you I am able to experience it.

The last year has been an opportunity to witness tremendous growth. I'm in awe of the young person you've become - someone I could only imagine in my wildest dreams. Conversations that are so grown up - that I'd be having with a friend and then realize I'm talking to my own child.

You've written your own narrative of success and happiness and I so appreciate you measure it on your own terms. I used to think I'd be successful if I could keep my kids from becoming teen parents and for them to live a life that I thought I wanted. I now realize that successful parenting is raising a person who has empathy, compassion, and love for others around them. Thank you for teaching me that.

I realize the weight you've carried as the oldest and I've learned to navigate the world as I try to teach you how to move in it. The patience and grace you've show me over the past year, the reassurance I did what I could with what I had, and the opportunity to do better every day is a true gift. You sent me off to college every day and couldn't stay awake for when I got back. Funny how tables have finally turned!

Words escape me today, but there's one thing I know - I'm so proud to be your momma. Fifteen year old me could've never imagined this! I can't wait for what's to come, to continue to see you figure out life, for more brunches, outings and shopping trips.

Happy birthday G.

Love,

Momma

Off to school together. High school was wild for both of us!

Off to the college financial aid office we went! It was hot - and we didn't have a car.

You found your calling at MC!

Life has been good.

[singlemamachronicle]

Ignorance Is Bliss.

Earlier this week, Jeremy had his wisdom teeth removed. We'd been preparing for this procedure for over six months. Why did it take so long? Well, this procedure requires to go under general anesthesia, and people with Williams Syndrome may experience some scary side effects, some that can be fatal due to their heart conditions. So you can imagine it's not an easy decision to make.

The thing is, I've been making these decisions for 18 years. Jeremy's been through 6 procedures now. The very first one was when he was 11 weeks old to repair inguinal hernias, the very first sign he had Williams Syndrome, but he hadn't been diagnosed, I was 17 and didn't know any better.

And that's how we approached life for the next 4 procedures. He and I would go in, talk to the doctors, nod our heads and sign the papers. He and I would drive to the hospital, I'd say a prayer and we'd be on our merry way back home. Sometimes there'd be some side effects, sometimes we got lucky but I had no time to worry, stress, or feel tired because that's what we needed to do and damn it, we had to do it.

As I was getting ready for this surgery though, things were different. Talking to the doctors and hearing the risks, asking the questions and getting the answers I didn't want to hear made this experience much scarier this time around. The hardest part though, is Jeremy being in the room and having some understanding of what they were saying. Ever had your kid ask you if "they'll make it" after seeing a doctor? I don't wish it on anyone.

So Monday was pretty scary. I was anxious. Going to the hospital is traumatic. This was the first time I had Chase with me, and it was weird. It was weird to go and not have to worry about paying for parking, or being able to step away to the cafeteria and afford a lunch. It was weird to have someone tell you it's ok. It was weird to have my kid be so big and not be able to swoop him up and hug him to tell him it would all be ok.

As your child gets older, there's less and less you can do for them. I'm not ready for that. Until the legal guardianship process is complete, there's very little I can do for him and I'm not used to not be able to advocate for him like I've always done. He also doesn't get why people ask him the hard questions when mom knows the answers. Our experience at Children's this time around wasn't ideal. The chaos in the OR, the lack of sensitivity, the delays. Thank goodness for the nice cardiac anesthesiologist who was the only doctor who took the time to make us feel comfortable and at ease. Who reassured us he had the necessary training to respond to Jeremy's cardiac needs, who assured us he'd worked with other Williams kids before and he was confident Jeremy would be ok. Words matter and his did.

We're home now. In a lot of pain. Jeremy described the loneliness and fear he felt as he was walked away to the OR without me and said that he's just glad he made it out. For most people, recovery is 3-4 days. We're looking at 2 weeks. But I'm grateful we're past this and that other than a bone coming out with his molar, there were not major complications. I heard a lot of people tell me, "it's just wisdom teeth everyone gets those out." My advice, don't just write people off. But then again, ignorance is bliss and I'm so glad that for most it's just teeth getting taken out.

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"I'm Proud of you, Momma."

When I got pregnant with Gina I had teachers saying that I shouldn't even bother to show up. I was just taking up space.

When I got pregnant with Jeremy months later, I was told to drop out and get a job at a fast food restaurant to get ahead on paying my dues since I'd obviously rely on government assistance. (BTW - no shame in public assistance, that's what it's there for!).

I didn't really have time to internalize what people were saying honestly. Sure it was hurtful, but I'd cry, dry my eyes and keep going. I had two mouths to feed after all. When I chose my major for college, I had to be practical and choose something that would guarantee a job. As much as I wanted to add a minor, I couldn't afford to not take on more classes or delay graduation - I needed to go out and make some money.

Through four graduations and 10+ jobs (yes, TEN) my constant has been the kids. Every time a new opportunity has come my way they're the first to know. They're the first to celebrate with me. Even as I now parent two adults (!!) they're still the first two people I want to share my excitement with. Some things just never change and this tradition is one that won't. So...when a recent opportunity was offered to me, I froze and I sought the advice of the wisest people I know: the kids. Our conversations are pretty normal, and over coffee (for me) and cereal (for them)we feel like we can take over the world. When I was voicing my anxiety, G says to me, "But isn't this what you've been doing all along? Isn't this what you've talked about you wanting to do?"

Fifteen year old would be proud of how far we've come. Twenty-one year old me would say, "I told you so."

Sometimes a simple reminder of things you said in the past is all you need. If your dreams are too big for you to imagine, keep working til you grow on them because it will happen. And if something scares you, keep going because that's a sign that it's meant for you. So here I am, in the longest job I've had in 15 years as the new Vice President of Policy & Systems Change. I'm feeling proud of myself. I'm feeling excited. I'm feeling anxious to help create opportunities for young people and gender expansive youth of color. I am feeling determined to work hard. And... I'm ready to confidently move through the world unapologetic and to finally feel that the "I'm proud of you momma" has been earned.

Here's to a new chapter in this amazing journey I get to call life.

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On to '22

Last year my end of year post was about the "Year that Wasn't" Reading back I sense so much sadness and gloom - trying to stay positive and optimistic when I couldn't find the feeling within myself. It's what I felt was my responsibility: to do for others no matter what.

I started the year focusing on me: I challenged myself to 31 days of Peloton, starting a 4 week Core program, and accepting my body for what it is (STRONG, BEAUTIFUL, AMAZING). For years I had this unrealistic image that we're only as good as a small waist and the numbers on the scale. Comments such as "I had 4 kids and I was a size 4" were common and I had internalized it for longer than I realized. Over the year I learned to celebrate my strength, to finally eat again without feeling guilty, to take pictures of myself no matter the size. I even bought a couple of 2 piece bathing suits and rocked it proudly. I was finally happy. Today, I completed a 60 min ride not because I need to shed calories, but because I know my body can kick ass and I love to see it! So...chinga le dieta!

I also learned to say No and respect my own boundaries. Oh it was hard, and controversial, but amount of relief and peace that came with letting go was priceless. Sure there were some unkind things said, some realizations that you don't hold the same value to others as they did to you, and the criticism to step back, but if I can't work on my own happiness than nothing is worth it.

I learned to be the mom of two independent, amazing, kind, inspiring humans. My goodness seeing the growth of my children is surreal and every time they share their accomplishments, setbacks, and lessons learned I pinch myself - I can't believe that I have been given the privilege to have them in my life. Gina's 2021 was THE epitome of transformation and words simply can't express the pride I feel for this girl. Jeremy had a challenging year in terms of his health. From various procedures, to testing, to molecular medicine and a scheduled surgery that keeps getting pushed back this kid continues to demonstrate strength and courage like no other. I can't sit there and show I'm scared because he keeps his cool and you know what? So can I. He turned 18 and now we begin to navigate a world that doesn't always think about people with different abilities while my worries that the world will not be kind have only skyrocketed. Despite it all Jeremy's optimism is relentless and thank goodness because I need my fix!

I don't really have any inspiring words for 2022. I think I'll just follow my own advice:

Take care of yourself, no matter what other people say.

Be kind to yourself, even if others think it's selfish.

Love yourself the way you love others.

Slow down, appreciate the little things, and hold on to those that fill your heart with warmth.

Here's to 2022.

[singlemamachronicle]

SingleMamaChronicles turned 10 today!

[singlemamachronicle]

Momma's Got Adults - Part 2

A letter to my soon to be adult:

My Dearest Jeremy:

You never ask where you came from. You never ask about the day you were born. You've recently started to ask about your zodiac sign and "permission" to get a scorpio tattoo. And you've reassured me that "it will all be ok." You know what to say, what to do, and how to make everyone around you feel like that they're the most special person in the room.

It's crazy to think that you are now older than I was when I gave birth to you. It says a lot to know that both you and G are older than I was when I was busy raising you. For all the worries I had about what people (and you!) would think about me, I realize that I never have to think about it. Every day, you help me brighten my day without even thinking. Every year I can't help but think how I simply haven't done enough to show you what you do for me means the world.

I keep fearing for adulthood and I don't know why. I guess all the years of endless challenges prevented me from thinking that we'd ever get here. I remember visiting Developmental Pediatrics and Dr. Penny Glass (have to call her out) saying that you'd never achieve anything more than someone with very severe disability and asking me to accept enough as enough. Boy did we prove her wrong. The most amazing thing about you is that you don't have to think about the tomorrow - you help me enjoy today and the now.

*Sigh* (Literally). The next year is going to be interesting. From Social Security to power of attorneys to legal guardianship, I'm sure I'm gonna cry, I'm gonna cuss, I'm probably going to laugh at how ridiculously backwards the system is. But through it all, I'm going to be thankful for it. I still can't believe that when we travel abroad you'll be old enough to drink. I still can't believe that at 35 my two best friends are older than I was when I brought them into the world. On your birthday, I can't help but feel an immense amount of gratitude, happiness, and joy for the Universe granting me the privilege of being your momma.

Here's to more tacos, endless books, and lots and lots of laughs, and many more adventures where you hold my hand just because you know I need it. Thank you for helping me grow up.

Much love,

Your momma.