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The invasion of the ten-year-challenge on social media got me reminiscing about 2009-me.
Ten years ago, I was a new mom to twin girls and I was drowning. Drowning in cuteness, in bottles, in diapers, breast pumps, tears and drowning in isolation. I was in the middle of the struggle and I felt totally alone with two crying babies. Of course, I told everyone who asked…
“I’m fine.”
“We’re fine.”
“Everything is fine.”
Ten years ago, I was so tired, hormonal and hell-bent on not asking for help. I had a partner who was in the middle of the struggle with me. Though, as a true perfectionist, I told him “I got this”, which translated to “read my mind and jump in here where I need help, which I will not ask you for.” No, this doesn’t sound familiar to you? Well, good for you, but I was a complete mess ten years ago and not ashamed to admit it.
Ten years ago, I was in the deep blue ocean of mommy and the waves of baby were crashing over my head so often I couldn’t catch my breath. At the very same moment, I was so in love with these two humans I couldn’t see straight. Basically, I was hanging on to my sanity by the thinnest of thread known to human-kind. I couldn’t see past 3:00pm, much less a year or ten years down the road. I was most concern with keeping these humans alive for another day, making sure their behinds stayed dry and tried to “sleep when they sleep” as everyone preached.
Perspective, my friends, is everything. I didn’t realize that time was so brief, and though it felt like fifteen years had passed it had only been 4 months. I didn’t realize, asking for help didn’t make me a bad mom, but rather made me honest and sane. “Fine” was my prison and I willfully allowed myself to remain incarcerated for far too long. I pushed away my first favorite human (aka my husband) with my wall built by “fine” bricks and missed out on moments of peace instead of stress. All the while, from my perspective, I was doing the right thing and what was necessary.
Ten years later, I wish I could hug that new momma. I wish I could let her sleep for 5 straight hours without waking up. I wish I could tell her, this is but a blink of an eye in this mom-game. And I wish I could laugh in her face when I tell her this is the EASY part. 2019-me would blow 2009-me’s mind! If she had enough energy 2009-me might kick 2019-me’s ass for laughing and call 20019-me a liar.
Perspective – what a bitch! Perspective gives us blinders and makes us deaf, but it is also why we do what we do. We function on limited information we believe to be the truth. Perspective gives us passion while providing boundaries.
The exhausted momma in this picture just took her babies to get their shots for the first time. Laying between my legs and on my chest was only way those babies would go to sleep. I can still smell the sweetness from the tops of their heads. I remember this exact moment when my sister took this picture. I remember thinking “seriously, I look like hell and I just want to sleep. Leave me alone!”
2009-me was doing the best she knew how with the information she had. We can’t hold ourselves accountable for things we didn’t know. What we can do is better, when we know better.
Those babies are now in the 5th grade and still will go to sleep laying on me in my bed from time to time. The difference is today I enjoy the moment because I know better. My perspective has changed.
Trauma maybe the most relative term in the English language. And funny enough, ‘trauma’ is spelled the same in English, Spanish, German and Italian. However, I bet if we asked 100 people what trauma means to them, we would get 100 different answers.
For me, trauma is anything that stains my soul. Maybe that is gibberish to you, but it makes perfect sense to me. You don’t have to understand my trauma for it to be trauma. You may even think my trauma is no big deal. That does not negate the fact that it is trauma to me.
In my not-quite-40 years on this earth, I’ve lost my father, my brother, all of my grandparents, twin babies and my nephew. Throughout my almost 18+ year career as a social worker, I’ve witnessed, heard and carried the stories of victims of violent crimes, sexual assault, child abuse and neglect. (this is not a trauma resume – just bear with me). My soul has been stained by all. Some stains I was able to accept, process and move forward in a healthy way. Others – not so much.
What I have learned through all these experiences is the single worse thing I can do is be ‘fine’. When I am in pain and I am experiencing loss, I am far from fine. When I don’t give my experience and the stain it left on me the dignity of a name, and rather say ‘I’m fine’ my stain spreads. The original impact of the trauma is much worse if I can’t call out the fact I am hurting and I have been effected by what happened to me or what I witnessed.
I’m not suggesting you have a full-on therapy session with the next person who asks how you are. However, instead of lying with ‘I’m fine’, chose something else. Literally ANYTHING else, because being ‘fine’ is not living.
Life has not been promised without pain. We do not get to skip through Candyland shooting rainbows out of our ass while riding a unicorn. Though, if we can be honest with ourselves and with those we love and trust, we have the ability to come back from anything and find peace in the most troubling situations.
Tell someone you trust you are struggling. Admit when you are in pain. Ask for help when you need it. The holidays are difficult for MOST people. This is not a Christmas movie where everything is figured out with a beautiful bow tying up the end. But, we can take better care of ourselves by being honest and finding the people we can trust with our stains. Stay mindful of your soul and stay away from being ‘fine’.
Photo Credit: Photography by Angela Gross
“Trust your gut. Forgive yourself. Be grateful.” – Cheryl Strayed
Oh the holidays! What a wonderful time! Forced family gatherings. Multiple ‘To Do’ lists from shopping to baking. Scheduling all the holiday activities to breakfast with Santa and driving all over town to see the festive lights. This is all in addition to your regularly scheduled programming of life. It’s fun, right?
Well, don’t you dare act like it is work – this is holiday freaking fun! You will do it and you will like it!
Whoa! Wait a minute! I’m not saying there aren’t fun moments, but let’s be honest. Life is rough on the regular! And in the next six weeks, we are going to slam some fun down your throat and expect you to get ‘er done with a smile on your face! Got it?!?
I call bullshit! Not bullshit on the holidays, but bullshit on the thought it is all fun and no work. My work schedule does not have an asterisk by it during the six-week holiday season. School isn’t on hold, at least for the entire time (which throws a whole other wrench in the plan, but that is for another post). We still have work, practice, school, require food and some sleep during this time and we are supposed to add in the holiday spirit without a glitch. Well…I. Call. Bullshit.
Shopping for outfits for an entire family that look presentable and ensuring they are clean is extra work. Coordinating schedules of said family and with another adult (aka photographer) in enough time to get a spot for the ‘mini-session’ then enough time to get pictures edited, create a holiday card, have cards shipped, addressed and mailed before the New Year is A LOT.
I am the mom that would die for my children, and in the same breath threaten to take their lives if they can’t act like they have some sense. My family can put on a hell of a Christmas card, and you can count on us keeping it real. To get my daughters to “dress up” with hair fixed the way I deem appropriate requires global-level negotiations. Mediation continues up until twenty minutes from departure time all the while tears and screaming on a continuous loop. By the time we are smiling for the camera, I have promised them Christmas in July, but we sure do make a pretty Christmas card.
Can we make a promise to ourselves this year? Please! Let’s be honest about the holidays. Let’s stop acting like everything is merry and bright and smells like cookies baking in the oven. The holidays are difficult. They are difficult on our checking accounts, our schedules, our sanity and our spirit.
For many of us, the holidays are a time of missing those who aren’t here anymore. Our nostalgic memories are filled with people we can no longer hold on to. The holidays can be a time of loneliness and pain, all the while watching the picture-perfect Hallmark movies set expectations of what the holidays are supposed to be (in 2 hours or less with commercials).
Instead of editing that social media post for thirty more minutes, reach out to someone and show kindness. Donate that thirty minutes to help someone else. Tell someone they mean something to you. Go to lunch with a friend who doesn’t have family. Make some necessity bags for people who have nothing. Instead of gifts for someone who has everything, do something for someone else without anything in return. And for the love of the Christmas tree, post some honesty, folks!
Post your kitchen after the baking is over. Tell stories in carpool to support each other, don’t give your holiday hit-list with everything your family is doing in matching tee-shirts. However, if your family is doing all the things in matching tee-shirts then GET IT GIRL, because it ain’t happening over here. We are lucky if everyone has clean underwear.
Let honesty and kindness guide us as we begin the countdown to crazytown and get swept away in joyfully-good-cheer.
I pledge show to some kindness this year and not post it to social media. I also pledge to post some truth to social media in the midst of the beautifulness of this joyful season.
We should celebrate the holidays. We all need time dedicated to our families and should be grateful that we have people to celebrate with. Our celebrations don’t have to be lined with glitter and bows. Our families are messy and should be celebrated anyway. Everyone has an Uncle Eddie (if you don’t know who I am referring to, then go watch Christmas Vacation- NOW- Stop reading and go!) and some of the best memories are made with an Uncle Eddie.
Since Christmas is now a two-month long celebration, can we take moment to breathe in middle of the whirlwind? Instead of dragging our assess across the finish line on the night of the 25th, take in the moments along the way. The smiles and wonderment of you children growing up right before your eyes. The tears and remembrance that comes with missing and honoring those we love who are gone. The laughter that ignites when we epically fail at finding the perfect gift. The peace that comes with times of solitude and reflection over another year coming to an end.
Take the smiles, the tears and laughs as they come because you are not guaranteed any holidays. The gift is that you get to keep on moving forward and that you have people who care enough to annoy you each and every year.
Good luck collecting the moments!
If you want to help and need direction of where to start, below is a great organization in need of necessity bags for victims of human trafficking. This group does amazing work! My family will be helping this year.
Women of the Well Ministry
If you don’t have time to shop and still want to help here is their Venmo account:
@WowMinisty
“Now listen up, people!” I feverishly eyeball my family in the rear view mirror as I pull into the park on two wheels. “We have fifteen-minutes to get a decent family picture for the Christmas card, so phones stay in the car. Books too, Laney. And no running, jumping, yelling, screaming or touching unless the photographer tells you too. I will not hesitate to shut the wi-fi down for the entire weekend. Got it?”
I watch a universal eye-roll from all of them. I can’t see Corey, but I assume he agrees with the mob, if he is listening to a word I say. In an attempt to decrease the amount of pain inflicted on all of us, I booked a “mini-session” which consists of fifteen minutes in a pre-determined location with just enough time for us to want to murder each other with fingers crossed for a good shot. I throw the van in park and my family falls out like hostages arriving to their execution.
“Hey Angela!” I wave to our photographer as I approach while she sets up the cozy holiday scene.
The rest of my family moves at snail-like speed, “Lets go. Pick-up the pace.” I hiss out under my breath.
“Are you ready for us?” She waves us over and begins to place us in the bed of a pick-up truck with giant wrapped presents. With six of us, we are squeezed pretty tightly with presents on each side. Already sweating, I take a deep breath to relax and accidentally let out a loud fart. Our neatly stacked family scrambles like roaches when the lights pop on.
“Oh give me a break! I wiped most of your asses, caught your puke and cleaned up your crap for years. It doesn’t smell that bad. Get back over here!”
My baby boy returns to the scene by climbing in the truck from the side. “Stop it, Austin!” Of course before he can stop he tears a hole in his knee. I look up to the sky, “for the love of all that is holy.”
“Sorry, Mommy.” Austin bounces back into place.
Angela arranges us again in a loving family pose, only this time she has to hide Austin’s leg.
“Put your phone away, Andi!” James yells to distract me.
“You too, James.” Laney quietly throws out.
“Ugh, idiot.” Andi begrudgingly slides her phone in her pocket and James does the same.
The Star Wars theme song begins to play and Corey hops up to grab his phone. “Oh Ruby I really need to take this, honey.”
My face is stone. If I ever had the ability to shoot fireballs from my eyes, I pray today is that day. I imagine I resemble Darth Vader, daring Corey to move just one inch before I obliterate him and his phone.
He slides his phone back in his pocket. “I’ll call ‘em back in a few.”
My mask melts away and my best ‘I-love-my-family-and-the-holidays-so-much’ face returns just as Angela asks us all to look her way. I manage to spit out just loud enough for my family to hear, “you all better smile like your lives depend on it.”
CHEESE!
With a quick turnaround, I was able order the Christmas cards and an ornament for the tree. This is first family photo we’ve taken since Austin and after the shenanigans it took to get it, I’m not sure there will be another until they are grown. I head out to grab the mail, I’m excited to see the package from the print shop for Mrs. Ruby Errore. I can’t wait to check them out, so I pop open the box and look at my crazy, but beautiful family. Their smiles bring the tiniest of tear to my eye and remind me that even with the shenanigans, I am so grateful for the space they hold in my heart. As stressful as the holidays are, I do get nostalgic for all the memories that swarm in. From Andi’s first Christmas to the year I was pregnant with Austin and even when it was just me and Corey and Bambi, I love my crazy life and this crazy family of mine.
I’m not sure why it took me a second to look down at the message on the card. The nostalgia is quickly washed away while I shake my head in disbelief as I read:
Merry Christmas from the Mitchells
Michael, Trixie, Bob, Tatiana
Are you freaking kidding me? My family’s picture with the names of strangers and not even enough strangers at that. Who the hell are the Mitchells and why are they on my Christmas card? Did the Mitchells get a Christmas card with:
Merry Christmas from the Errores
Corey, Ruby, Andi, James, Laney, Austin
Standing in the driveway as the snow falls down around me on the 20th of December. I realize there is only one thing to do. I head inside, stamp and address all seventy-five cards and drop them in the mail.
Merry Christmas from the Errores and the Mitchells.
Good Morning!
Keeping with the review theme – Just wanted to take a moment and reflect on the last few weeks and what we covered. I love all the feedback so please keep it coming! Here is a rewind of where we went, so far.
Your Nightmare Is Someone Else’s Dream : Even your worst day, is a wish for someone else. Find gratitude in your current situation. Celebrate showing your vulnerability and find support through your struggles. Brighten up your social media feed with reality, not resentments. We succeed not in spite of our failures, but because of them.
Accept Your Ginger-ness: Acceptance is for you. Acceptance does not require you to like something, only that you acknowledge it is. Find power in your pride, which you define for yourself. Practice loving your own brand of beauty.
I Live My Life on a Fire-Fighters Schedule: 24on/48off. Newsflash- There is no work/life balance. There is suiting up and showing up and giving it all you got. Find your Firehouse Friends who will battle the blaze with you, so when it is your 48 off you have someone there to relieve you.
The Silent Killer…Comparison: The bitter likes of a social media post piles on the weight of resentments building because you have yet to define your own success. Comparison kills joy. Full acceptance negates comparison. Let yourself dance naked while you figure out a way to love who you are.
Are You a Butterfly? : Find peace in the purpose of your journey. Pain cannot be defined without the knowledge of joy, just as joy is not possible without the memory of pain. Embrace change instead of fearing it. Deal with it instead of denying it and instead of “why me” ask “why not me?”
What’s Your Walk-Up Song? : Figure out who you are, what you enjoy and what you stand for. Practice being comfortable in your own skin. Find ways to celebrate the amazingness of being you. Pleasing everyone is exhausting, so start with making yourself happy.
Don’t Let Your Message Get Lost In Your Mouth : Your power lies in your voice. It can be used for a shield of distraction or a tool for liberation. Your voice can be used as a weapon to harm or an instrument of healing. Hiding behind a screen and keyboard doesn’t give us free reign to drop every unfiltered thought that crosses our minds. Stop, think and breathe before we react with emotions. We are accountable for how we use our voice.
Only Pay Cash For Your Boots : Joy is contagious, so choose to swim in other’s joy. If misery loves company, so does joy. Why wouldn’t you choose to celebrate with others instead of refusing to acknowledge happiness staring you in the face? Find the magic in sharing joy.
Thank you for reading and for your support through this journey together! This journey is just that, a journey, a process – not a destination or a finish line. We are all just trying to be better than yesterday’s version of ourselves. Be honest with yourself and embrace joy!
Have a great day!
Good Morning!
How’s your week? What are you doing to take care of yourself? Have you made self-care a part of your daily life? Are you a priority to you? Do you squeeze in six minutes a day for self-care? (This is not the part where you list your excuses – it’s the part where you just begin).
How do you start? Let’s review where we’ve been so far:
Well, that’s a wrap! Here is your “self-care-cheat-sheet”. Please share how you practice! Let me know what works and what doesn’t.
Thanks for reading & have a great day!
Hey All!
I wanted to send a special thanks to all of you for reading! It means so much to me to be able to share these stories and bring you a little hope and laughter.
Today, I thought I would do give a recap of the character who live in Ruby’s World. One of my dear friends & loyal readers requested a “cheat sheet of characters”. She asked for a reference to use from week to week as a reminder of how these stories & characters intertwine with each other.
Let’s review:
While managing multiple part-time careers along with regular-life-shenanigans, relate-able Ruby Errore finds a way to laugh at herself. A married mother of four living her life with the support of her longtime firehouse friends, Annalise, Kate and Claire.
Corey is Ruby’s supportive, loving and sometimes oblivious husband and father to her children.
Miranda “Andi” is the eldest daughter of Ruby and Corey. She is type-A, over-achiever, championship swimmer who is fighting the curse of perfectionism masked by her killer attitude. Andi argues with her younger brother James and “mothers” her baby brother Austin.
James, the easy-breezy-eldest son, tries very little to achieve what he has. He has a kind soul and loves to laugh, mostly at his crazy family and gets pure joy from aggravating his older, uptight sister.
Malayna “Laynie” is an old soul who can be found curled up with a book and sipping a cup of tea. Laynie’s dry wit drips throughout her refreshing realness. As the family’s narrator, she is always willing to share her observations and thoughts on the situation.
Sweet baby-boy, Austin brings equal amounts of goodness and mischief to their family. He listens only to Andi and keeps the entire family on their toes.
Presenting picture-perfect with her matching-outfit-family and high-power corporate job, Annalise appears to have it all figured out. However, she won’t hesitate to get right with you real quick. As one of Ruby’s firehouse friends, Lise provides the voice of reason to the group.
The strong an independent member to the firehouse friends, Kate lives the life of freedom and travel. She is single with no children and no apologies about it. Though she has a painful past, Kate is content with the life she has built for herself.
Hipster Claire loves hard and heavy. Her tough-girl persona gave way to her fancy-free, breast-feed-through-the-teen-years-momma. Claire loves to have fun and can always laugh at herself. She keeps the rest of the firehouse from taking themselves too seriously.
Ruby’s mother is the culmination of all mothers – loving, overbearing, judging, protecting, prideful and present. Ruby’s mother, like most, brings out the best and worst in Ruby and herself.
Full of chaos, laughter, frustration, excitement and disappointment, Ruby’s world feels familiar to most of us. She hangs on for the ride and to those she loves while she makes her way through life learning as she goes.
Photo Credit: Photography by Angela Gross
“Find out where joy resides, and give it a voice far beyond singing. For to miss the joy is to miss all.” -Robert Louis Stevenson
On an all-girls trip to an all-girls concert, we randomly picked a local restaurant for dinner before the show. The lack of curb appeal made us question our choice, however the Uber already dropped us off and we were stuck on a curvy road in a strange town so in we went. The coziness of the low ceiling, wood walls and candle-lit tables were inviting until we were informed by the hostess that without reservations we were out of luck. With eye-rolls and grumblings in our stomachs, we headed to an almost full bar. Defeat showing in our faces as we looked to each other for suggestions, a man in a New Orleans Saints hat at the end of the bar waved us over as he asked a couple to move down a stool so the three of us could sit together. We relaxed as the weight was taken off by the open barstools and Mr. Saints sparked up a conversation with us. We ordered drinks just as his wife walked in from the outside deck. Bursting with excitement, she told us along with her husband the restaurant had been voted into Southern Living’s Top Restaurants in the South. With that we learned they were the owners of the 25-year-old restaurant. Mr. Saints was originally from New Orleans and with Mrs. Saints they traveled around the country watching their beloved Saints team every chance they got.
We drank, talked sports, shared family stories and we congratulated them on their success. My friends and I were able to celebrate a crowing moment in the lives of two strangers. We were genuinely excited for them and it felt good to swim in their joy. Once we ordered dinner, we understood the reason for the reward. It was some of the very best food I have ever experienced – and for the record I LOVE food.
While we ate and drank with our new friends The Saints, our bartender, Joanie, who never let an empty glass remain within our reach, laughed along with us and cared for us like a mother at Sunday dinner. Joannie shared pictures of her granddaughter and told us the story of a drunken night in Nashville when she woke-up with $400 boots. Her mission to find her granddaughter pink boots somehow ended with her purchasing a pair for herself. We laughed and nodded along because we all could relate to her tale. She told us after that night she never goes out drinking with a credit card, she only brings cash. The lesson she shared with us from her trip to Nashville was “only pay cash for your boots.” She took our picture, gave us a hug and told us our meal was on The Saints, saying they had just called to insist on covering our tab. She wouldn’t accept no for an answer and sent us on our way telling us to have a great time.
It was the beginning of an amazing night! We then celebrated the careers of five women while they gave their all on stage to entertain an arena full of people. We swam in their joy too and cheered for them as if they were our closest girlfriends.
My friends and I experienced a night full of sharing joy with others. There is magic in that. A true friend will swim in your joy just as much as they will hold you afloat when you are drowning in pain. The measure of love is being someone’s biggest cheerleader, even when you are not in the game.
How often do we push away someone else’s joy and miss opportunities to dive in with them?
Are we too caught up in our own misery to welcome the relief that comes with celebrating someone else? Is our hater-ade so strong that we refuse to acknowledge happiness when it right in front of us? Why?
When you are going through a rough spot, why wouldn’t you want to dive into someone’s joy pit to celebrate with them? Joy is contagious. If misery loves company, so does joy.
If the chicken pox are contagious, why can’t happiness be too? What do you have to lose?
We have so much to learn from each other. What better way to learn than, sharing our experiences and jumping into the joy pit together. Our friends, The Saints, worked long and hard to achieve their dream. However, the lesson they taught was how loving your journey brings continued success. They showed me how to measure success in happiness, not awards defined by others. While at the concert that night, I learned to dance like everyone is watching without the weight of the expectations of others holding me down. I learned that bunch of girls can sell out a concert and I saw what pure joy looks like while each of them were doing what they loved. My friendships have shown me patience and gratitude can get me through bouts of pain and misery. I learned that time with friends can heal my soul and even in the darkest moments wonderful gifts are present. Our sweet bartender, Joanie, gave us life lessons while she shared her joy, her family and her stories with us. We listened and decided to jump in her joy pit with her. A simple choice of where to grab dinner allowed us to connect and learn from people while we shared joy. It was contagious.
My journey brought me through epic failures and impressive successes to find my way to that restaurant with my friends. I love to write. I find contagious joy in putting words on paper. I will continue to write because I have experienced joy through misery and maybe someone else needs to read how that is possible. I have really good friends with really good stories who I continue to laugh with and learn from. So I will keep writing, keep catching contagious joy and I will only pay cash for my boots.
We all know one. The person who literally has 25 hours scheduled in their day. Her commute is 32 minutes longer than yours. Her job has mandatory overtime 7 days per week. Each of her kids are involved in 5 activities which practice 7 days per week. She only sleeps every 3rd Tuesday of the month. You know who I am talking about? Are you her?
We have all been her before. There has been a moment in your life that you felt like the busiest person alive and no one could relate to you. Am I wrong? (No)
No reward will be handed out for the busiest person in the world. You cannot compare your responsibilities to that of the lady in the car next to you at carpool. Our lives have become excessively scheduled. Appointing activities to every single second of every day. Even vacations have schedules to ensure you don’t miss out on something. There is no time left to just live.
I have been in Ruby’s shoes (literally). I am the people-pleasing-fun-baggage-carrying-scheduler of the group. I am guilty of forcing fun down your throat if I can help it. However, when I can let go and leave some time untouched, I allow for life to happen and create memories I couldn’t expect. Can you allow yourself a chunk of time to just sit in it? Nothing scheduled. No expectations. Just be.
Expectations are pre-existing resentments. Leave your expectations behind you and accept what is. In the midst of the hustle, schedule time for nothingness. Let life happen. Your heart and soul and will thank you for the memories that come from just letting it be.
Happy Wednesday!
