New Year Resolutions - Happy New Year

 It's that time of year.

I heard today that resolutions help the brain go forward, instead of pulling from the past to make your present. 

So here go my resolutions to keep this momentum going :)

In no particular order:

1. Exercise - walk one mile at least 4 days a week

2. plank daily to at least 4 times a week - 2-3 minutes

3. keep writing

4. make rings

5. make necklaces

6. finish kitchen cabinets

7. read 

8. take my medication

9. Use my wellness maintenance plan 

10. track my period and prepare for the week before and the week of my period

11. play with my son and my daughter more often

12. start my eBay store

13. stop the flower

Hope you have a resolution or two, or more. 

Have a wonderful new year!!                 

Final Therapy and Me - hehe

Guys, we did it. 

I patiently waited for my therapists phone call, it was 1:07pm and I was getting nervous. My kids were using phones & watching a movie, I spoke to my oldest and told him to help me out and keep sister busy. He really helped. 

Elsa, my therapist, and I always begin with the outcome scores of my two week assessment. I get asked question in a survey and I answer based on my mood and the events that occurred during those two weeks. 

She was glad to tell me all the scores were green. Big improvement. It has been. Over the last 3-4 therapy sessions I had been scoring in ranges that showed I was not suicidal, depressed or anxious. By then I had been taking a second medication, Buspirone for roughly two months. (The first two weeks I started Buspirone I became angry. I had road rage which Lexapro had helped me with. I was feeling worried about the Buspirone. I did not want to feel uncontrollable anger, but I also knew that it would take longer than two weeks for the medication to take full effect). I am glad I waited and was patient with the process. I know things are fluid, you just never know how emotions will strike with Premenstrual Dysphoric disorder (PMDD) but I feel I have reached a happy place in my medication. 

She asked me if there was something I wanted to share with her. I told her about the conversations I had with my dad and brother. She was kind and listened and asked questions that helped me to reflect on the conversations I had with my family members. I called my brother a narcissist. Something I had never labeled him as before. I heard so much of my mother in his taunts. 

Elsa told me I had every right to be angry. I was not in charge of my mother's feelings. I don't live with them anymore. She said I was able to see them and myself, without the interconnectedness of feelings. 

My brother taunted me because he sees me as my past. He wants to pull from that past manipulation to trap me in emotional control. 

Not going to happen. 

Elsa and I then got to the business of building a plan for the future. I checked off boxes on a paper I printed from her email. That little paper was going to help maintain all the work I've done.  

The checklist helped me see myself doing things that make me feel good, like playing with my kids, getting ready for the day, cooking. And boxes that helped me see myself doing things when getting upset: withdrawn, angry, crying, And boxes for things I can do when I am getting mad: take a walk, aromatherapy, take a break, read. It's more intricate than this, but this tool is valuable, and I am thankful it's my graduation papers. 

One part I had trouble filling out was who I can speak to during a difficult time. My dear cousin came to mind, but no one else. My husband is busy, I understand he needs a break from my emotions. I have to learn who I can rely on and who I can't. With all my love I can say this is a good thing (Him and I did go over the paper and he we had a good conversation about it. He was happy I shared it with him).  When I was at my saddest points, I would google how I felt and often found stories of people that felt like I did, and were able to convey to me that it would get better. Seeking help was a great place to start to heal. I also found bible verses that helped me connect with myself and stopped my tears from flowing more than once. I added those to the list of resources I can seek when things are getting difficult. 

I wonder how many graduation's she's had. I hope she knows I'll never forget her. She changed my life. Just by listening, being honest. She ripped a few Band-Aids off that made me think long and hard about myself. Just who I was, and why I was so darn defensive all the time. 

This entire journey makes me self aware as heck. But in a good way. It brings me comfort to speak to myself in a reassuring manner, in a way that make me feel safe, and not angry and guarded. 

I am so thankful. 

Final Therapy Session - Therapy Graduation

Today is the big graduation day. 

Some heavy stuff has gone on in my life this week, and I know that would have broke me 6 months ago. I'd be a devastated heap of emotions, barely functioning in my own home. 

I can say that at times my kids still get on my nerves, its normal. They are figuring out this world right along with me. 

I still get mad. My period and I still don't function 100 percent together. I get irritated and feel the need to let you know. Funny thing is...I can laugh at it. Sometimes during the episode, before I open my mouth, and often after the episode, after I've said too damn much, and may have been too dang harsh. But, I am also apologizing, making sure it happens less often, and I am proud the episodes are shorter. 

All the episodes were so hard on my family. I was a façade of myself so often they had no idea what version of upset they would get. It still is hard, but speaking truthfully to them about my therapy, my family life and our goals helps. 

I still cry. My emotions can be too darn much! But I can acknowledge that and can see myself as less of a bad guy. My brain, hormones and body are a lot during my period and I see that as a version of myself. Not the loving me, so I have to remind myself during those times I am more than my emotions, or anger. I am love and compassion, too. 

I am here for a reason, I am living this for a reason, I blog it because I am not alone. 

Taking medication is not for everyone. Perhaps if I had gotten help sooner, in my 20's, early 30's this might be a completely different blog, maybe still about babies and figuring stuff out. Alas, it is a journey of self discovery none the less. Perhaps I wouldn't need medication, but I do and I know I am better because I take it. 

It took our last therapy session for me to feel excited about speaking to Elsa, my therapist. It often felt like a heavy feeling in my chest. Felt like we were once again talking about what went wrong and how I fell apart. During our previous session, my therapist congratulated me on being honest with her. The honesty was what helped our sessions get better and in turn I got better. 

Thank GOD for honesty.  

About yesterday (added some words)

 I got a text around 8:00pm. It said, "You refused the gifts"

My response was to laugh, and to think, like damn from the 5 min. conversation I had with my dad earlier, that's all the insight you got?

Earlier today my phone rings, I look and it says 'Dad'. I hesitate to pick it up. But I do it, it finally happened, a phone call from one of my parents. 

Me: Hi Dad

Dad: Hi, Merry Christmas

Me: Merry Christmas

Dad: Look, I'm going to drop off some gifts at your house (never asking, just telling me, I'm doing this, he was in his car, calling me.)

Me: (Pauses, breathes heavily) 

Me: No. I can't take them. I want to talk to you and mom, first. I want to have a conversation. I can't take the gifts. 

Dad: (Silence)

Dad: No one is coming with me. It's fine. 

Me: (Disappointed: what can't he understand? I want to sit and talk) 

Me: No. 

Dad: She doesn't want to talk to you either. She is not coming. 

Me: But why is she mad? I wanted to tell her I've been sick. To share with her that I wanted to kill myself. But that I've been in therapy. She doesn't want to hear me. 

Dad: (Pause)

Me: I am not trying to not take your gifts to make you feel bad, I just want to talk to both of you, first.

Dad: Well, then. If that's how you feel. Ok, then...Bye. 

Me: (Feels sad, but also proud, because they have often used gifts in ways I found manipulative, things even my husband noticed early on)

...

Hours later, my brother texts me about refusing the gifts. I laughed. I was surprised that was all that came out of the conversation I had with my dad. 

He then proceeds to text me again.

He was so harsh. He called me stupid, that I have a high school mentality. Called us grown ass woman who need to act some sort of way to appease him. 

I called him. I couldn't text fast enough to show my anger. 

He started to taunt me, "Don't start crying." I was so mad. I was crying. I was mad! That is the energy I am trying to escape. I deserve to be treated better. I don't understand why I am not enough for them. I can't take gifts for my kids, I can't act like our whole family dynamic isn't way off. 

I text my brother this morning. Last night I told him he needed to apologize to me. I told him I was not going to speak to him again if he didn't. His attitude and assumption were why I was already so distant. WTF was his problem?! 

He didn't apologize. I hung up. But this morning I was feelin so frustrated in him treating me so nasty. Last night he said I was still depressed, and that I felt like shit because I wasn't speaking to my mom. 

I needed to change his narrative. 

It's not like that. I don't mind not speaking to her. I don't mind not having a relationship with her. It was always superficial. From my mom, dad and brothers. 

They don't care to know me, the good and the bad that is me. What if the bad was more than the good happening in my life? Am I supposed to hide that from those I love?

He apologized for last night. I acknowledge he doesn't want to see his family sad or hurt. 

The way he went about it, though, was classic narcissist. Well learned from the manipulation going on within his house. I may feel good,  but I know my mother feels bad. Then,  why not just confront the problem? Hearing facts can be hard. But I think the bigger torture is whatever thoughts are filling her head. Why not just hear me out, and get things off her own chest?

They all treat me like I was that frustrated 25 year old that left their house. Or better yet, that 15 year old, hurt by her mother's words. Or that 20 year old, crying at church, sobbing because I would rather die than continue to be treated like I was unworthy of love. 

Things change. People can become a better version of themselves. Why not meet her? 

I am worthy. 

Thanks for reading <3

thoughts on narcissism

A few thoughts on narcissism.

People don't want to see they are narcists.

I think it takes too much inner work. 

So they see and pass through this world in a distorted way. 

Some cry, get hurt and blame. 

Others go about their lives like the other person just vanished. 

There's more to it, but I can only relate to what I've experienced. 

This is my first Christmas without speaking to my mom and dad. I decided months ago that I could not go about like I had for years; like it was all OK. 

Seeing my Mom, stepping into the house was all so hard. 

And after it was over I felt better, but it was cringe fest until the next time I had to communicate with them. 

This year, I am so thankful not to feel the pressure of seeing them. For years I was dealing with so much baggage. And none of my family members know how far I have come. 

Just trying to communicate gains and accomplishments felt like a lesson in who not to speak to. 

A reason I decided not to reach out to them this holiday season was because they never reached out to me. Not my Dad, he just didn't speak to me. Or my Mom, who made everything about herself and refused to hear what I had to say. 

But the other was if I called and they had presents for the kids they might want to bring them over. I don't want to see them. I don't want anything from them. I bought no gifts for them. My heart is heavy because I don't want to be they type of person that just stops trying, but my soul tells me its time to just let things be. 

And I am. 

Therapy graduation coming soon

 Hi. 

Happy Winter Solstice. 

Happy return to the lovely winter months in the USA. I know this season is not easy for everyone. Sunny days are almost here <3

Reading the previous post was needed. I left in October because the session that followed that post was terrible. Asking my husband to write 'No' sentences turned into a fight. 

I don't want to get into him and how he feels, but his inner feelings crept in that day. It really messed with my mind. I cried the entire session that followed but it helped see myself more. Helped me see my husband as a flawed individual, like myself. His family dynamic was better than mine, but even they had situations that made for pent up feelings. We can all have that. Approaching life with less expectations and more understanding has helped ease frustrations.    

***

Since my last post there have been ups and downs.

More ups than downs. 

After many therapy sessions, I am graduating. 

My original therapy goal was to cry 4 or less days out of the week. 

A week, folks. 

I was a mess every other day. Picking up the pieces; exhausted by the constant negative talk. When she said my goal aloud, so many thoughts came back. I went back to those hidden files I  never wanted to see. Each time I cried, it felt like a new issue to tackle. A new thing to fix about myself. 

I have gone weeks without crying. That fact took me out of my thoughts and into reality. 

How much I have improved. 

Thank you for sticking with me. I always felt like I was running away, and I was. Things get too real, and I need a pause. This last time, nothing made sense. I had to detach and assess my life, my thoughts. I spent a lot of time on the couch, but I wasn't crying. It felt like I needed to sit and relax after years of my mind racing with thoughts and laments. 

I feel good. 

Around this time last year I came back to blogging. I am so damn proud of myself today. Feeling like myself each day. I was usually an ogre. PMDD is a bitch. But after all these years, I'm still the bader bitch :)

I hope you and yours are having the best of holidays. Have a wonderful new year!

Love, 

Kat

She told me I have issues with the word 'NO'

During my last therapy session my therapist seemed frustrated by me. 

I've wondered when her life and her job would collide. She's a professional, but also a human being. I was grappling with how to feel about her seemingly frustrated tone of voice. I spoke to my husband and I was able to separate her frustration from myself. I have no control over her feelings towards me. She has never made me feel like I should doubt her ability to do her job. She was having a difficult day, a difficult case. Whatever it is, I can't dwell on it. But if she were to act like that again, I'd probably ask for another therapist, 

We spoke of two things that really impacted me:

*I am not responsible for others' mental health. 

I am not responsible for what others' perceive of this world. I cannot dwell on what someone else will or will not do. 

*She said, "You have issues with the word 'no'"

UMMMM yeah! Angry was the way I've always been. Used to be, excuse me. I felt like I could never speak up. My voice was always drowned out by my mom's or my brother's. Today, when I feel like other people don't want to listen to me, I get upset. I judge the person, because to me, I make sense. The real problem, though, is the anger and/or attitude that came with that opinion. I can have strong opinions but cursing and arguing are not the way. 

As an exercise, she told me to write down No sentences to myself and husband. Things I don't like that he does. He needs to write me some 'no' sentences too, and we will share them with each other. Just writing some sentences down, made me feel less tense. It got me to crack open my laptop. 

Thankful for another day, 

Kathy 

I've been chillin'

It's been good. 

I have lay on the couch and relaxed for weeks. I do it for an hour or two when no one is home. It's quiet. A pandemic year and here we are finally alone with my thoughts. 

I hadn't done that without being sad, ever. 

I just wanted to remind myself that I don't have to DO! 

Sometimes I regret not making this or doing that when she's napping and he's at school. I'll rush around when they are both in the living room, and maybe leave them on their own for an hour too long. But, the world keeps turning. 

Two weeks ago I spoke to my therapist and she was upset. I think she was ready to cut me loose. She figures I found ways to cope since I am not having negative thoughts. She asked me if I thought I was ready to end therapy. HUH!!! I was not ready for that question. She seemed irate with me when I said I didin't know how to answer her. 

I'm thankful for all the therapy Ive had, if the old me would of encountered that situation I don't know if I would have been able to shake it off. Not just that but also reflect, find humor, and understanding in her feelings and my own. Shoot, it isn't a bad thing! I am doing better. 

Tomorrow is a full day. Maybe the last therapy and me! (dun, dun, dun). I also speak to my psychiatrist, whom I have not spoken to in months!

I am on 20mg of Lexapro. I'm feeling really good today, but a few days ago, around my period, I wasn't. Nothing is perfect. Nothing. Sometimes the perceptions of perfection are so distorted we lie to ourselves and hide the truth. Minds play tricks. Alas, nothing but inner work and kindness can change certain mindsets. 

I'm rambling. 

Have a wonderful Wednesday. 

Love, 

Kathy 

Heat Rash

I have a bad case of heat rash on my neck. In my 20's I had a bad case of it on my arms. Layers of skin began to peel and the itch was very intense. I worked with a summer camp in Long Beach, CA and was outdoors all day. But the camp was located in an older elementary school and it had a lot of dust and old paper smell. The combination of both dust and sweat created a terrible reaction. I still have scars from those days. What I know today will save me a lot of pain. 

Similarly, my skin is puffing up and is soft to the touch. It's all trapped sweat! (grossss) My sweat glands are clogged and don't let the sweat go through to the outside layer of the skin, instead trapping it in the middle. It is itchy! If you scratch it gets worse, it becomes more irritated and uncomfortable. 

Staying out of the sun is most definitely the number one way to control a heat rash, but that is not an easy solution. For example, not walking for me entails weight gain because I have less space to move my body at home. I have opted into covering my arms. I'm recalling the first sign of heat rash were my hands becoming itchy and getting  raised bumps under my skin. I am covering my self well, except for my neck. DUH!

What has worked for me has been ice packs. They help bring down the swelling and redness. They help make the rash less noticeable. I found that sleeping on the side with he rash makes the rash worse. When I have woken up with redness and itchiness but don't have an ice pack handy I use Costco baby wipes. The itch and redness are soothed. This afternoon, I am trying air drying my body after I shower, to give my pores a chance to "air dry?"  

Well after the shower I had to use an ice pack on both sides of my neck. Maybe some Aveeno soap would helps sooth the rash in the shower. I had a brisk walk yesterday and wore my head up with a hat. My neck was exposed (uuufff). Not really sure how to approach the next time I go out for a walk, but I'll keep you posted. 

It's Labor Day weekend!

Have a happy and safe holiday,

Kathy 

Setting Healthy Boundaries

 I told my brother I'd get back to him when I felt ready to. 

I was struggling with communicating with him, much like I was with my mom. I don't want confrontation, or misconstrued ideas. I want what is best for me, my family and them as well. But I cannot compromise the latter for the former. 

He text me first. He said he was sorry for his joke and that he knew I was "in a rough spot" and was sorry. That is not an apology. My emotional state had nothing to do with me thinking his "joke" was not funny. 

There is nothing wrong with you for disagreeing with someone else. That person should not use their words to make you the victim. No victims here. I'm looking out for myself. Normal human things we don't do enough of. 

I sent him information on mental health, but he said he'd read it when he has time. I don't have the time to wait for that. I don't want the type of energy he has at this time. It is dark. I almost feel like he enjoys talking about some things that I find triggering. I am here to help him, but he has to find himself. 

I told him I was not in a rough spot, but instead was setting healthy boundaries. 

As we all should. 

Love,

Kathy 

I think I'm paranoid? (A.K.A. nosy females)

Everyone has already heard about how men stare at women, well women do it to other women, too.

I know women can relate to this. 

Other women stare at you. 

They watch you come, and follow your every step. 

It's a habit some women have. 

It is creepy. 

If you are a woman and you do this to other women, we notice you. 

 

The heck with that nonsense...

Gals, what is going on with you?

Is your life so uneventful that you look forward to what someone else is wearing, doing?

That's appealing to you?

Time for a major life shakeup, don't ya think?

Get your hair done, get some nails, do your makeup, focus on yourself. 

We may act like we don't care or we don't see you, but we feel fucking uncomfortable by YOU. 

I've had a mom stare at me every afternoon for over a week. We stand in a line waiting for the bell to ring at the end of the day. I always managed to stay in the back of this particular mom. My son and her son are good friends, of course. This mom decided to stare at me, stealing glimpses of what I do, instead of introducing herself, like a normal human. 

I stayed quiet. I played with my child. I mind my own damn business. PERIOD. But she was so dang obvious about it. Looking at me. Staring at me. Watching me play with my daughter. UGH!!! I finally had enough. 

One afternoon, I was feeling good after a brisk 15 minute walk to my son's school. I enjoy walking and running on city streets. I have for the last three years, on and off, due to covid. Maybe I look like I'm in a rush, but I'm pumping my heart. I don't just wear athletic gear for aesthetic, I like to sweat. 

So as I am walking towards the line, this woman is just intently looking at me. So as I parked my daughters stroller and gave Jazzy her cars to play with (hoping this woman would look away) I looked at her & said, "What?" 

I used my hands, my body, my face (behind the mask) to convey my frustration. 

I will literally go as far from these people to walk and improve myself, because I care about me. I ain't a show for these folks. 

Toxic people are everywhere and you have to set healthy boundaries! 

The next day Captain Obvious was less interested in me. 

(haha these folks can be incredibly pathetic. They most definitely get to me. But in reading this, I can sense how much it bothers me. It bother me today, but I am so much cooler under pressure.)

Have a great day, 

Kathy 

Afghanistan 2

Well, that went even worse. 

13 service members lost.  

Heroes. Risking their lives to help others. 

Many others also passed.

God rest their souls. 

....

Perhaps you don't believe in God. 

Or you say, he let this happen, wtf!

People do these things; breed anger and deception.

Twist ideals to fit anger into a box.

Try to outdo each other in a game of evil. 

....

It's up to us to be the light. 

 

Frozen Salad?

All children are getting meals to take home at LAUSD. It's a snack and a breakfast for the next day. On Friday's, they get a bit more food for the weekend. This service is provided for all students, free of charge. This undertaking began during covid for LAUSD. Its then superintendent Austin Beutner, wanted to provide food for all students because he knew that was where most underprivileged students got their nutrition. This then blossomed into anyone could pick up food to take home during the months when covid was raging in Los Angeles.  

Now that school is in session, it is back to only students receiving a food parcel. On Monday, my son brought home his. I always look through the food and offer fruits and juices. His bag had a lettuce bag on Monday. It was frozen and in no condition to be eaten. The food on Monday was frozen from the Friday before. I wrestled with contacting his teacher. I had already made a fuss about the drop off and pick up line. But at the end, I sent off a note and a picture of the salad to his second grade teacher. 

Three days later I get a response...from the principal!! I didn't want to bother her. I thought his teacher might direct the message to one of the two vice principals. But I get it, she's the boss. 

Mrs. S replied with screenshots of emails sent between herself and two district food employees. She told me she'd check in regularly with the food service manager to make sure the food provided is of good quality. 

My heart "hurts." People don't seem to care. I've written on here before that I love my city. But its a tough ass place. In my own ways I am here to stand up for the little guy. 

I also see I can appear like a neurotic bitch, which again, self reflection is a good thing.

Have a great day, 

Kathy 

Tuesday Thoughts

I was supposed to see my brother on Tuesday. I was still upset about our covid texts. Over the years I have coped with fears by ruminating. Just playing scenarios in my head. Lately, I'm trying to listen to my body, and how it reacts to situations. 

A huge red flag was how I felt after speech therapy. It didn't go as well as I had hoped it might. I decided no more internet speech therapy for Jazzy, too many distractions. We'll start in person therapy next week. 

On Tuesday, I was feeling upset about my relations with my brother. I did not want him to come over. I don't know if he should have a space in my heart/life. I think he has a lot of work to do on himself. I think he needs to find himself. I felt uneasy thinking about his visit. I don't want to feel like that. I feel sorry this is happening. We don't believe in the same of anything...

I'll pause here, 

love, 

Kat

It's been fun (not)

 I am having a shit time today. And yesterday. 

This is week 2 of back to school. 

Week 1 of my daughters speech therapy sessions (I took two weeks off for mental sanity).

I have made up my mind that my daughter is a bratt.

AAAAHHHH or am I the pushover?

I think it has a lot to do with being on medication and therapy. My brain is changing, my reactions are different. I did get upset with my daughter once the lesson was over. She could not use technology, nor could she get gummies. She cried, she screamed, it was bad. Her tantrum was one of the worst she's had. 

My tantrum was more subdued, but I heard myself fall back to old tricks, yelling back. My mom and I would go back and forth until I was told to get the hell back in my room. 

Reflection is good, too. At the end Jazzy understood (I think) her actions got her butt in trouble, so she needed a time out. She also came to understand her butt was very tired. Since she had just finished 45 min. of not listening to her speech teacher through a screen. 

I decided Jazzy needs to go in person. She needs to be engaged. I think we are all over it, her, speech therapist and I. I will take Jazzy in person next Wednesday. 

I feel upset, even mad, but subdued. I'm looking forward to leaving my daughter at my mother in laws and walking to pick up my son. I'm going to go for a brisk walk, I'm excited.

Take care,

Kathy 

Afghanistan

The situation in Afghanistan is terrible. 

So many lives lost. Twenty years to find a way out. 

Then, the way out turns out worse, than the worst case scenario imagined. 

Ending a war has never been easy. Even when guns are lowered, fear rules in peoples hearts. The trauma that is seen from loved ones lost, homes lost, lasts generations. 

I know getting out of Afghanistan is a national interest. American lives were lost and severely impacted during the 20 years the USA was there. But this abrupt and disorganized Taliban takeover has dismantled years of blood, sweat and tears. American soldiers are expressing their frustrations with leaving behind Afghanis that aided them during the war. 

I saw September 11 live on my television. I went to school that day. I saw a TV cart be rolled into my first period English class to watch the coverage. I remember Mr. O getting a phone call from the office and having to turn it off. I have lived with anniversaries of September 11. For years it was hard to watch the coverage, the documentaries. The images of people falling from the cargo plane leaving the Kabul airport, juxtaposed with people falling from buildings on September 11. 

I too wanted American's out of Afghanistan. And now they are called back, in more dire circumstances. There should have been better plans, perhaps a more gradual pullback, but there is no time for that. 

When corruption and money are more important that life and country. When women and children are not valued, we see scenes of chaos and loss. Parents hoisting a baby up to a Marine to give them a better life, perhaps to never be seen again (thankfully they were reunited). Unimaginable heartache. I pray people stand up for themselves and their their values. That they use the power in their voices to find a way out of this awful situation. 

Thank you for reading, I was thinking about all of this and find it therapeutic to write. 

Have a blessed day, 

Kathy 

Unsolicited Covid Opinions - In Person Learning

I'm not going to apologize for sending my son to school. 

He stayed home for nearly 18 months. At the end of first grade he got top of his class and a perfect attendance award. He was eager to go to school. By now we have spoken about Covid often enough that he knows he needs to protect himself. 

Look, I understand that he can get sick, and I worry about my young daughter getting sick. But I am trying to have him change masks, wash his hands, use hand sanitizer and shower when he gets home. We are vaccinated. He's getting Covid tests weekly. We are doing our part, and the school is too. They were open during the last trimester of my son's first grade year. We declined our son going to school, then. We were not vaccinated. 

In the midst of surge in cases, I wrestled with second thoughts, even the day before classes began I was nervous and wanted to pull the plug. The plan is to give it two weeks and if everyone feels well and there are no cases, he can continue going to school. 

Related to all that, yesterday I received a text message that upset me. This person wrote LOL (laugh out loud) after I wrote them in a text message much of what I wrote above. 

And in the same text writes, Hope Jazzy doesn't get sick. 

Thanks, for the well wishes? He says he misses the kids, and wants to spend time with them, but then acts like an immature person when he's in his 30's! 

Like, why the LOL?

I told him he was laughing at my kids. Did he think it would be funny if my children became sick?  He says, "It's not that serious, I'm just being 'funny'." Really? I told him to shove his LOL where it don't shine. He doesn't have time for me he reply's, good, It's mutual. 

I heard a sweet soul say last night that if you ignore you're bodies messages, the primal tingles, and feelings you get when you know things don't feel right, you may get other messages that are more in your face. More evident. This interaction was a big let down for me. This person has lacked empathy for years. Deflects from himself when things don't go how he'd like. I have made effort to give advice. And to push past bad feeling between us. But he needs to become more aware of his words, his behavior. 

Thanks for sticking with me. 

Return to in Person Learning: Disaster (YOU are the change)

My son joined in person learning today. Second grade status! I've been worried about him going back to school. It's a pandemic! But he's been home for months and needs time to run and have fun. I know my son, and his impulsiveness and his enjoyment in the act of having a good time. He's young, wild and free. I want him to have all that without me, he deserves to be carefree. 

His elementary has roughly 800 students. Lots of parents, strollers, and cars. This morning was a disaster. The lack of organization was right in your face. My frustration is with staff that can't multitask, can't delegate or take the wheel. I am that person. I can't just stand by and allow bullshit. My own impulsivity has gotten me recognition in life, but sometimes, I just wish I would refrain from doing it in the order my brain tells me. Take a breath, assess and adjust needs to be my new mantra. 

LOLLLL guys, I'm on my period and Lexapro may not be doing its full effect on me. I told my husband maybe I'm too intense for this neighborhood. He said "No." I'm the right level. "Everyone else is brand new." They sure do act brand new. 

I emailed the principal, posted below:

Dear Mrs. S,

Happy first day of school. Getting here has not been easy and I want to take the opportunity to thank you for your efforts to keep our Lions learning.

This email is to express some concerns regarding morning arrival for students. I am aware that the daily pass website was not capable of dealing with the amount of traffic. But, I think Fairview (fake name) staff should be more proactive, speaking to parents, informing them to continue to wait or to log into the daily pass website. I had to leave my kids and ask staff if my son could bypass the line since the pass loaded. I was told he could. So I say, “Why don’t you let them know?” (meaning parents). So I inform parents, and guess what, a bunch had the pass.

So I finally get to my kids. We go back to the front together, and I tell an African American man wearing what I think was a black Fairview Shirt, “There is no organization here” He shrugs his shoulders and says, “It’s the first day.”

Really? So all of those people’s time doesn’t matter? Society should suck it up? I am sorry, but his response was rude. Sir, get yourself out there and inform parents. Leave the safety of the school grounds, and get kids in school! Isn’t that the point?

So then I go around to the front gate and see my son wondering around having no clue where to go!

Who was supposed to be there to tell him where to go? It’s rhetorical, a human should have been there to help.

To say I was disappointed is an understatement. I was angry.

 

My suggestions would be to have a roving team to go to each section and talk to parents about the pass, encourage them to keep trying and wait in the websites virtual line for the daily pass. Have giant QR codes on clipboards to help parents get there.

Have two lines for people that have a daily pass and those without. Don’t think we all know we don’t need to wait in line, again, due to a lack of communication.

More people directing kids to their corresponding areas.

 

Lastly, there were WAYYYY toooo many people near each other. Next to P avenue, two lines formed one facing north and one facing south, separated by three feet, and people walking down the middle to get to where they need to go. It’s a pandemic. I was shocked, and that fueled my frustration. The line closest to 77^th street should wrap around 77^th, not stay on P Ave.

I think you put your freshest folks on those gates, and they may need more help.

 

Thanks for reading,

Kathy Mora

-----I love my kids, I love my community. Pushing out the negative self talk about what happened this morning in order to put in clear view why TF I do what I do. Why I say what I say. 

I am the change. 

(And the strip club eeeehhh)

Showing haters the ample size of my derrière

We went to Point Fermin in San Pedro, today. 

I dislike going out, but I have to keep all my mental crap at bay for my family. My kids want to have fresh air and a chance to be kids. So damn it, I got in the car and we drove to San Pedro. 

First, it was crowded. Teens or twenty somethings were throwing a gig (party for children) of some sort. Cute. Whatever. 

We decide to go the complete opposite way and climb a steep ass hill. 

As I was climbing, I was looking at the floor the entire time. Rocks gripping my Asics to the ground. Suddenly my husband announced, "It's too steep" to continue. "We could fall." And like in a freakin' cartoon, I realize we are too high and I have two children. And that we could all, in fact, tumble down the dang hill. 

AAAAHhhhh!!

And I kind of panic. I'm a share-er so I was like "Oh shit, I think we could fall." Anyway, we all look at each other and decided we have to start to get down, because we can't just stay up in a hill like statues. Of course by now my son thinks he will fall. So grips me, and I have to act like this is fine, just follow me, and step on these shrubs and we'll be fine. 

Until he decided he wants to be with my husband and cuts across diagonally from the safety of the shrubs we are using as ledges and grabs onto my husbands sweater as to not loose his footing. Husband is holding our heavy 3 year old daughter. Ggggrrrr! You child! Luckily, no one falls, but dammit! Why won't kids look at danger, instead of beyond it, to whatever prize they perceive is waiting. 

So I'm alone, and still like 20 feet from safety. My heart races, my sweater is behind me, my tits, feel bigger than ever, why? Who knows. And for a second I think, "I should cover my stomach, it's probably bouncing all over the place." But then I feel the fresh air, and I push that thought aside as I arrive on even ground. 

I kind of don't want to leave at this point, I ask my husband and kids to take pictures.

Remember the "band" having a gig? For some reason the singer decides to zero in on us an us taking pictures with our kids. "Sings" about us posing in the pictures & sounds like an absolute deuche, so, I flip him off. Apparently, he likes that, 'cus he starts to sing about wanting to marry a chick like me. WTF. 

Whatever, at this point, we are by the car, and we are putting the kids in their seats. I'm passing around hand sanitizer to the family. I am that mom, with the sanitizer and the snacks after we go the park. Out of the corner of my eye I see someone approaching us. I realize it's the folks from the car next to us. I close the door on myself so they have space, but I was here first, and you all fit just fine. So why would I even think of moving when I have done the most I can to make your return as pleasant as possible? 

The "mother" orders her child to get in the car seat. I am handing out snacks at this time, being cute as hell, because I am an awesome human being sometimes. This woman then purposely pushes my door, to close the door on me. WTF: again. Can't make this shit up, because who wastes time with KARENS!!!!!

So I go kinda nuts. I yell profanity as she quickly closes the door to her Mercedes. I yell at her about pulling such a dick move. I show her my bangin' body and emphasize the ample size of my ass so she knows she's fucking with the wrong body...ody, ody...

Listen, don't mess with me. 

Don't underestimate people. 

Period. 

So she looks dumb because she has the ugliest set of fake nails on, and two her people are like wtf just happened. And who the fuck knows what she says, but I have the biggest, darkest eyes you have ever seen. They felt fucking embarrassed. At that point my mask was lost, so I was not about to bring down my window, but I made enough of a seen to make her ass too scared to want to leave the parking lot.  HAHAHAHAHAH. She had to leave, 'cus my stare is just too much for people with demons in their souls. 

My kids are like what was that. And I tell the story. And I say it's OK to defend yourself. 

But you know what the cruelest part was, my son saying, "But why all the bad words?" AAAAHHHH I am ghetto my friends. I have a passion for my rights and when both words collide, well, I just speak from my soul and it likes to cuss. I've made so much progress, but I probably need a swear jar or expand my vocab. 

The moral for me was to tone down my anger. To be a better role model for my kids. I would have handled it all the same, but with less cursing. Live and learn. But get it together baby, your kids are not getting any younger, or less forgetful.

I don't even want to edit this. Uuuugh, I probably will. 

-Kat

Happy Thursday

Happy Thursday!

Getting my son ready to get back to school today. It's been a tough few days. My period is around the corner and my mind has been racing. I skipped both my psychologist and psychiatrist appointments last month. Sucks, 'cus in reflection, I needed them both. But I called and rescheduled. This morning I feel good. I slept well. 

When we are in the thick of it. Sad, angry, depressed. When the negative talk wont stop chattering! Know that it will get better. It seems like death or anger or sadness are the only way, but they aren't. Take the time to do one thing that will help you. Wash your face, play music, rest, write. 

Whatever it is, know you are not alone. You have so many of us feeling like you, and we too have to make it until we realize it does go away, and we are valuable in this world. 

Kathy 

Shutting down at Ikea

Went to Ikea without the kids. You'd think it would go flawless, kidding, shit happens. 

First, Ikea was bought out! We found one much needed dresser, the last one in the pile, but it turned out to be a grey instead of black. Let's just build the thing. 

So while there I suppose my husband was pressed about the time we were taking. We left the kids with his mom. He started to rush and when I'd ask him a question he'd be short with me. I got upset. I gave him the silent treatment. Thankful Ikea is one way type of store, 'cus people would of seen my face and known shit was hitting the fan. 

Finally we get distracted by the line and the waiting for our items that I got over my anger. 

Once the kids were down to bed I told him why it bothered me. I think I tell you all more than I tell him! He was honest about the times he knew things were different between my mom and I. Like I never visit her. Or how I'd get so upset about going to her house, legit tantrums. I told him I was verbally abused as a child, a fact I had not said aloud to anyone. We cried. 

We've known each other since our last semester in High School, a couple since 17 and in my 30's I'm just unpacking my feelings. Thank God for compassionate, passionate human beings in my life. 

How I speak to my children after I have a depressive or PMDD episode

 Yesterday was not good. 

Seven days before my period and I felt like I couldn't handle life. 

This is a safe place. I can tell you about my life, honestly. 

Yesterday I felt like I hated being a mother. 

These feelings are not for the first time, but yesterday I had a meeting, and my son was having a tough day understating he would have to spend some independent time doing homework, reading and using technology. I attempted to set it all up, talk to him and share my expectations. He came out during the meeting, twice. Wanted to have a whole conversation about how he felt he had worked for an hour already (he hadn't). I was already dealing with my daughter not wanting to engage with her speech instructor via Zoom. I was loosing control and I couldn't deal with it. 

I cried, I was so distraught over the feeling he was being "bad." I was tired of dealing with his behavior. I spiraled pretty bad, I felt terrible. I wanted to die. I just kept telling myself that the circumstances were not worth the thoughts of death. It does not warrant wanting to die. And it doesn't. Today, my son is sharing with his sister and playing with her without being rough. He's 7 and she's 3. He wants a buddy to rough house with and she thinks she can handle it (she can, which causes him to want to be more rough, ugh!). I took the time tell him I was proud of how he was acting this morning. Proud he was being a patient brother. I can't just point out the bad behavior, I must strive to point out the good. I can't just scold all day, cry and pretend like I should act like that.

On hard days like yesterday, I try to make it a point to speak to him about it at the end of the day. We talk about where it went awry and what we could do to make it better. I love him, but having kids and not being mentally ready has made a lot of anger bubble over the years. Not all women think this way, but I think the things that happened in my childhood and PMDD make it hard for me bond with my children over their behavior. I'm still working on that, but I can tell you there has never been a night I don't tell my children I love him. 

PMDD and depression can be overwhelming, but the feelings don't last forever BUT they are strong! Please seek help if you feel so sad and overwhelmed you can't function. It isn't normal to feel like you'd rather die. 

I talked myself into taking a shower, getting ready and even going to the market. That's the first time I've gone out after a PMDD/depressive episode. It helped us all to get some fresh air and think of groceries and yummy treats and not just of what happened during the day. 

Taking a step back during those episodes & talking about what happened honestly, helps build for a better tomorrow. 

Negativity and looking in the mirror

I never wore makeup in high school. I think it was more common then to see girls, makeup free. I don't think I even plucked my eyebrows. I'm the oldest of three boys, so I never had someone to teach me makeup or buy it with.

When I graduated high school at 17, in the early 2000's I went straight to CSULB. That was a struggle in itself. I never fit in. In high school I did not care. But in university that changed. I felt alone. I didn't make friends, and getting into groups was intimating and the feeling, fleeting. 

During that time,  I start working at an arcade. I loved it! I loved the people there. The girls really took me under their wing. I let my wild side show and I was untamable! Aaaah, to be young. After working there two or three years, I had to stop because I was in my last year at CSULB and that meant 'Student teaching' in a classroom setting, supervised by an actual teacher. I also had a shit experience there. So I saw my friends less, but we tried to hang out when our schedules allowed it. 

We all finally made it to L.A. Live in Downtown Los Angeles for drinks and dinner one Saturday evening. I was gifted a beautiful pink jacket by a student during this time and couldn't wait to wear it. I was also using tutorials on YouTube to learn to do my makeup. This was circa 2010. After talking and eating, as a group of like 8 girls we go to the restroom and take a bathroom pic. When my friend looks at the pictures, and almost in shock, she says, "Kathy (Pause) you look (pause) good?"  Like what did you expect? Ugly duckling status? Maybe. I've always had it in me, I just never put the effort in myself. Time taught me to find myself, and makeup played a role. Make up is art. I felt creative on top of feeling beautiful. I was using the tools (they were the first to tell me to wear make up) and empowerment my friends taught me and made myself feel better about my appearance. 

When that happened in the restroom it was life letting me know I am beautiful, I have value, the bomb!

I have a hard time looking at my body, my face and loving what I see. I'll critic my body, my face, or better yet, avoid the mirror. I've gotten better at it though, I am me! I will still walk by a mirror, but more often I'll stop, smile at myself and keep on walking. Years later I still think about my friend  making me feel ugly by telling me I looked "good." My brain often takes hold of what I perceive as bad and makes it worse. But it was not like that at all, I looked more beautiful than she could ever imagine.

Once in Las Vegas, with my then fiancé, I go to the restroom by myself. I rush by the mirror and do my business. As I am washing my hands, I finally decide to check myself in the mirror. For me, at that time, it took courage and talking to myself to do it. And I see this beautiful face looking back at me. Years later that Vegas memory brings a smile to my face. Thoughts about ourselves should not be harsh. If they are, it isn't your heart speaking. Bad thoughts can blind us and diminish our self esteem but we are all worthy of feeling good and proud of ourselves. Makeup and friendships were a catalyst to my transformation. 

Forever grateful. 

-Kat

Potty Training Update - Things I've learned.

It was becoming too much to hold her hand while she went poop. Especially since she enjoyed it so much she changed her poop schedule. She used to poop one time, after breakfast. Now she gets excited about going to the restroom and doing a combo of 1 and 2's. 

In order to get her off my hand so I could actually get feeling back into it, I gave her a stuffed animal to hold. I sit the stuffed animal next to the bowl and give her its hand. It is not the stuffed animal she sleeps with, and she knows to ask for it or grab it when she needs to. At times she'll want to hold my hand, I mostly tell her I have to clean something and bring her the stuffed animal. I don't want to continue a habit I want her to break. If she catches me just on the phone, sitting on the couch, I'll hold her hand, can't say no. 

We are buying the last pack of diapers for her. SOOOO awesome! I am buying one small pack and that's it. We will try 100% undies after that. She is learning to wipe herself. I have to let her go for it and try her best to clean her booty. The idea of no diapers at night does worry us, but I saw a hack! To use water resistant bed covers that go under the bead sheet. 

The idea is to make two water resistant layers. By covering the mattress with a water resistant cover, then a fitted sheet over both cover and mattress, then adding a second layer of water resistant cover and a fitted sheet covering the whole thing. If she has an accident I don't have to search for sheets. I can pull off the wet sheet and bed cover, change her and get her back into bed. I'll let you know when It comes in handy. 

I also saw a post that said we should let kids potty train as they see they are ready. I believe that is true. Scrambling to try to teach a child to potty train when school is starting or daycare needs it can be hard on the child and the family. My biggest advice is buy a potty early, in my opinion between 2-3 years old is a good time, and have it around for them to explore. As they see you go to the restroom they will want to copy you. New things are often scary to children, so crying is a part of their development. Don't take it personal. They can and will do it. Positive reinforcement can come in many ways, find a way to communicate that helps them feel good about their accomplishments, however small. But also encourages them to try new things even if they are scary. Not forcing, but expressing understanding in their fearfulness while also letting them know they are safe. Learning to potty without a diaper is a normal part of become a big boy or girl or person, or being. 

I hope this helps. This second potty training has been pleasant, never thought I'd write that. 

Thank you for reading, 

Kathy 

[Poem] E. Bass (Oct. 2012)

I surrender to myself:

Temptation.
Deception.
Lies.

The filth that comes out of my mouth,
the lies!

I fail for all the times I should of, could have said, "No!"


I failed at life again.

Its temptations a life's lesson for me; self taught.

But I revel in now!

I try to say no more...

but how is it that I still go?

The heart of the beast, it yells for more!


...it asks for the tenderness of your kiss, the song on your lips 

& the strum of your instrument. 

Had I locked the door, 

so long ago, 

it would never be. 

Hadn't I locked the door, 

Who'd I'd be?

Thoughts on marriage

I am mostly in my mind. Trying to hide? 

I pray every morning for patience, the sun lights up my face and assures me it's all well. 

But deep inside, I want something else. Selfish me. Not finished with A and wanting to run all the way to the end. But these almost 8 months have taught me that I don't have to wait for time. Time is now. It is never too late to be better. 

I said something honest last night that I've been holding on to for months. I am not happy. The indifference and deflection are usual. But I won't take that, we are all responsible for our own words and actions. One cannot lead to the other without some type of reflection. 

I want to be treated with kindness. Not told to do things. I typically just do whatever is asked. The less I talk, the faster you move on. But last night, I had to say it. Acting happy vs. actually being happy are not the same. In a marriage both adults have to work towards bettering themselves and thus hopefully the marriage. 

Working through things is not my forte, but I am taking back my voice. It's not nagging, or being in trouble, it's about respect. It's about how to show affection and admiration. There isn't time to waste staying in old habits. It is time to act and behave with haste and compassion. React. Listen and show you care. 

This world is so vast, and to tell you that the monetary working that make this world run aren't for me is so cliché, but man, do I want to run in fields of flowers and grass. I want to be alone with the trees. I want to bathe in the lakes. 

Riches and bitches come and go, make room for self love and mental clarity. 

Have a wonderful day, 

Kathy 

Make it, Print it, Let it Roll [Poem]

Make it,

print it,

let it roll,

just like it's backed up by gold.


Easily able to see it be spent,

exchanged for goods and other shit.


To begin the news with, "Have you seen todays 401K losses?"

The fakery of the currency

we currently hold.

Paper, makes its worth?

Is this understandable?

It’s ‘cus we’re told.



Money can get your everything,

like

hatred, death, and many unloved hearts

also,

things,

that are cute with pink and blue hearts.


I guess I never got it.


Money, dirty & smelly.

Money, can't do nothing without it.

Money,

Money,

Money...it's a drag.

 

Ghetto wishes & cosmic dust [poem]

 

How can we thrive in the destruction of the chaos?

We become exposed; explode.

 Innocence taken away,

turned to anguish bursting to expose!

Expose the hate felt deep inside for the loss of a loved one for something they can’t control.

Lucky the ones that turn that pain into forgiveness and a passion for change.

 

If we could go back to the time of zero.

And Love each other for what makes us, us.

Devine beings.

Cosmic Dust. 

Asking my mother to call me

I sent my mother a text this morning. I told her to call ME when she's ready to speak to me. My father, who didn't reach out for my birthday, sent me a text. He said to give her time to process. 

I could of gone and text him a paragraph explaining myself. Something I would have done before. Instead, I thanked him. He did something that was probably not easy for him. But through the text I sensed compassion, not finger pointing. 

He put the onus on her to reflect. 

I don't want to push her into doing something she's not ready to. She has to search her consciousness to face moments she may not want to recall. Suppressed memories she thought were done. But I can't just pretend like I'm fine. PMDD & depression are a part of me. I valuable part of me, that I can't compromise to make others feel better. I can't just pretend like my life is fine when two out of four weeks I feel depressed. When the one week I go out I try to do it all before it comes back. 

One day my mother was telling me that the duty of a daughter was to take "good" care of their mother. That took me by surprise. I couldn't say anything to that. Good or bad, I just stood there, thinking about times I felt unloved and how I could no longer just pretend. I love her, you see, but I don't love her for who she is supposed to be. The motherly part is covered up with memories, thing she never owned up to and I had to suck up and move on from.  Of course I'll always be there for my parents, but the way she expects things makes me cringe. That's how I know I need to speak my truth. I can't just pretend and act, it's too much work. 

Just thoughts, 

Have a great day, 

kathy 

Some days I don't want to live

Today was not easy. I had major downs. 

My thoughts kept going back to the argument with my mom. By loosing my mom, I loose my dad. Love shouldn't be based on condition. It should not be one sided. Empathy is lacking in his heart, too. Loyalty is probably something important to him, loyalty to her. He would always say, "You know how she is." He'd then make me feel like I should apologize, or suck it up. 

I couldn't even tell her the entire truth. That I have thoughts of wanting to die. I have a hard time coping with life, it's like I never learned. As I type I go back to a childhood memory, I remember being in my babysitters house.  A roach crawling in front of me, and not being able to move. Not wanting to make a sound. Just looking at it crawl by. I hate roaches, but as a child, in that room, in my empty heart, I could never do anything right. 

As an adult, simple shit can feel so fucking hard. Feelings are the worst to dig through. I either don't want to take the time to feel or feel angry when I am stuck in PMDD, or in tough days like today. Those moments break me, make me went to disappear. Regret I brought my children into this world to learn from a broken heart. 

I had constant thoughts of wanting to die, today. It was debilitating. I thought of my family. The thought of them growing up without a mom was front and center. I can't leave them. The thoughts do go away, but I can't let go sometimes. I hold on to the sadness, to the ruminating thoughts of wanting to die; to stop feeling. 

I went to the bedroom and lay in darkness for a few minutes. Tears rolling down my eyes. My husband coming in to check to see how I was doing. I googled what I was feeling, word for word, and found people who have gone through similar feelings. Who learned things through their journey, and share it to give other's the opportunity to see they are not alone. 

I learned that these sad, difficult feelings do lessen. When I say them aloud, when I share my thoughts with my husband, it lessens my burden. Otherwise it's like a guilt thing that I carry in my brain, & it won't shut up. I can't give it power. I accept the thoughts are there, that they will come back, but they don't have power over me, and I  don't truly want to die. 

I need ways to cope with my feelings. I always thought it was just anger. But it's so much deeper than that. By coping with why I lost my mom and my dad, I realized I need ways to deal with the tough emotions life brings up. Dying is not the answer. 

Love, 

Kathy

Calling a therapist after speaking to a loved one

So after all that, I could not feel better.

I text my cousin and my husband. 

My husband called back first, he made sense. Can't change her, he says, "She's old school."

He's a sweet man. 

My cousin also called me but he was on his way to work. 

It is hard to find people that can be there for you when you feel sad and alone. 

I decided to call the behavioral health hotline to speak to a professional about what happened. 

She told me my mother was perhaps not someone I should speak to because it doesn't help my mental health. 

Her saying that made me feel better. I felt sad. But she heard me and said my mom made it about herself instead of listening to me. It helps so much to speak to someone, just to get it out. People in our lives are super busy. Can't hold that against anyone. So I had to use my resources. I had to speak to a professional. She encouraged me to write. 

Please ask for help, professionals are there for us.

Happy Birthday to me

My birthday today. 

My mom reached out. 

At the end, 

She made me feel bad. 

She told me hurtful things. 

Brought God into it. 

But I have the power to speak my truth. To Be kind. 

I am not here to hurt, I want to heal this fucking world. 

I've cried at church, asking God why I wasn't loved by my mother as a teen. 

I've cried in my car as an adult. 

I cry in my living room, today, on my birthday (as an older adult :/)

She never heard ME. She always had a knack for taking my feelings and invalidating them.  Making it about herself, closing the door, and leaving me, a mess. A child. 

I feel guilty for all my learned behavior.

I have memories of her being hurtful with her words. Me asking simple things and getting rude answers, making me feel like I was not important. 

Even now I question things. Did I do something wrong? 

I told her about therapy and my doctors. She said my childhood was good and there was no abuse, so she didn't know what I was talking about. 

I told her it started as a child, that it was difficult because we didn't have a relationship. The way she spoke to me as a kid was rude, she made fun of me in cruel ways to make my feelings invalid. When I would try to speak up, shed mock me, and in a taunting voice say, "What does the little girl have to say now?"

How can I take that?

I couldn't call her. Tried to for two months.  

Today, she said I got what I wanted, I made her cry. That was her reaction to my texts. I know things can be taken out of context. I swear, I was kind. I know it's hard to deal with raw emotions, but her way of crying, getting sick, not picking up, getting my dad on her side, is textbook her. 

 I have to tell myself, "You knew how'd shed react. Enough, Live your Life!" 

Perhaps it's liberating. 

I am healing something, torn. 

Like the tape on old library books. It has to be the thick clear one, or it wont work, no scotch tape on this book. I started healing one side with therapy, and medicine. Today, I taped the other side. Have to tape both sides of the page, or else, wtf are we doing? 

Can't risk two pages getting stuck together and ruining the rest of the story. 

Love always, 

Kathy 

Self Worth and relationships

It took me some time to find a new layout for the blog. I went through three or four layouts until I found one I liked. It was getting late, but I had two red bulls and was ready to be creative. 

When I finished, I showed my husband. He was busy. He looked at it and didn't say a word, made a face and that was it. No words, no encouragement. 

I went to the restroom, brushed my teeth and wiped my face with a baby wipe. I looked at myself in the mirror and spoke truth to me. 

I told myself I am doing the right things by working on myself. Going to therapy, breathing and writing. But above all, I am the creator of my reality. I should of seen that he was busy. He wouldn't have the right state of mind to give me his time, not matter how small. Instead of setting someone up to fail, and feeling the sadness of reality, I should seek my own approval. I am my own cheerleader.

On Monday, I went to therapy. We spoke about my childhood and my husband's. The almost 100% difference between our upbringing. It was a real eye opener for me. When I tried to share what I learned with my husband, he made a joke and said, probably honestly, "I know nothing about your childhood."

That hurt me, 'cus I've shared many stories. 

He's a nice man. A good father. But a poor communicator. 

I am thankful I can see things. My anger, sadness and frustration wouldn't allow me to go beyond the pain of his lack of communication. Beyond just thinking he didn't care enough. He cares but can't multitask. Can't form the right words. Maybe he'll work on it. Maybe he won't. But, I found my answer: to keep doing what I am doing. Keep hustling and become the best version of myself. 

Toilet Training With PMDD - Update

We have arrived to a point where I no longer need to bribe her with candy. 

I now bribe exclusively with technology. 

But Jazzy is also learning some things on her own. 

She knows she can rely on her family to hold her hand through new and difficult situations. 

She was terrified of going number 2, even though she had before. When she felt like she needed to, she would stop herself. When we put diapers on, she did not want to poop in them. She tried to go potty, but it scared her. She felt like she was pooping into a void, she lost the reassurance of a secure bottom. Where the heck is my poop going? She must of wondered.

At first, she did not like for us to be near her for her to pee. Now, she wants us close by since she is worried about the experience. She holds on to my hand and tries her best. 

Sometimes I am not in the mood for it. But It's such an important milestone. I take the ego the heck out of it, and sit with her and hold her hand. 

If you find your child is having a tough time pooping, I suggest offering extra liquids. I offer water and juice. Also a diet with fiber helps the stool stay smooth and easy to pass. If it's hard, it hurts, just like it would you and me. I made her my famous veggie soup and her stool looked nice and smooth. 

She also made up a term for going number one and number two she'll ask, "Can I mix it up?" 

It's too cute to me. Of course!  Jazzy also loves to flush the toilet and wash her hands when she finishes. She's a doll. 

Her seven year old brother, Noah, proudly sits next to her and offers to hold the technology for her when she is going potty. It is awesome, because he is learning how to be a supportive brother, as well as growing his patience with her. 

As far as me and PMDD...

I finally let things roll on their own. No pressure for her to go. I just ask for her to try. No frustration when you can't. I did have one day, when she had an accident on the high chair. I reflected and thought about what I wanted in life for the kids. How I want to react. I want their happiness and freedom. Once they go out into the real world they won't have that. In this space they are safe. And mfn potty trained. 

Have a safe and wonderful day, 

Kathy 

Listening to myself talk about being a teacher

Does anyone have a tough time listening back to themselves? I do. I cringe. I can be a sarcastic, bitchy person, with a no fucks given attitude. I love and hate that about me. 

So I listened to my rant (RANT) about a situation between myself and a parent, back in like 2010. I was a brand new teacher at the school, and I guess the kid didn't like how I taught. I loved teaching. Me as a teacher was so much more pleasant than me as a regular person. So I was surprised in the mother's tone of voice. I will say I was a strict teacher. That may have played a part in it. Some children are not ready to hit the ground running on day one. They want their home, their families and find it difficult to adjust to rules and schedules. At some point all of that becomes routine, but for some it's not as easy. 

As the mother is telling me that, she also tells me she never wanted her child in my class. Kinda personal! She didn't know me, and I did great during my interview by the way! She proceeds to tell me she requested the other teacher, Mrs. D, instead, and was VERY upset her request was ignored. 

The teacher was out on maternity leave, so WTF did it matter, anyway? 

At this point my face surely shows how annoyed I am by her, I most likely looked her dead in the eyes and said, "Mrs. D was the one that put your child in my class!"

(Gasp) 

(Burrrrn)

It was the truth, honest, I had no connection to any of these people, it was just a roster full of names. Mrs. D  told me she didn't want the student or her mom in the class. Power trip? I looked at Mrs. D dead in the eyes and said. "Do it." 

...

But, back to the mom, I was not justified in speaking to the mother in such a tone. I should of sucked it up and told her I would work with her child, and keep her informed. I should have thanked her for her time. She should not have spoken to me that way, but had I showed her some professionalism & grace I would have taught her how to deal with tough situations without the need to retaliate. 

Reflection is good. Having children of my own & having fought my own battles for my children, I understand us more. Me as a childish, know it all, and her as a mom, challenging another person to listen to her and make right by the promise to reach her child and educate her.

Years later, I can respect that.

But how did it really end???

The mother spoke to the principal. She told her I was rude, and some other stuff. It really pays off for teachers to be friendly outside and to all students. Period. Principals understand parent's and their ways of dealing with frustrations. I think especially with a new teacher. Principals have seen way more drama! She took me into her office and we talked about the situation. The principal decided it was best to switch classes, so I got a new student. That principal was an interim principal, thank goodness, but she was kind and understanding. She knew my professional and classroom teacher side enough to know I was a hard worker and mostly nice. 

I also think the mom was overly bothered by the entire thing. No concrete reasons to be such a hater. Whatevs. We all won. 

-W/love, 

Kathy

Can my PMDD deal with Potty Training? (Again)

My three year old went number one and number two in her potty, by herself!!!

We are so proud of her. 

But, honestly, I'm so proud of me. 

When my son was her age, I was struggling with depression and anger. The thoughts of dealing with a child and potty training seemed like the biggest, dumbest, most complicated chore. I hated it. 

I remember yelling. Yes, yelling at a child to learn to shit in a foreign object. PMDD (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder) does not allow you to see beyond the hurdle. It keeps you stuck in the toughness of the situation without words of kindness or looks of love. It was something my son could not do. Of course he could. But at the moment, in those days, hours, weeks and months, it felt like something he could not comprehend. My little guy. Always so smart. I wish I could go back to those days. See myself and have compassion for us both. To hold you both and weep for whom you all used to be. Forever changed, impacted by my actions. But with so much love to overlook the sadness and the past. We can all go back to a moment of sheer shit. And hopefully look at oneself now and see the growth. 

With the grace of knowing it is never too late to ask for help. Any type of help. 

So, it was a rough experience for both of us. 

I dreaded a similar experience with my daughter. 

The biggest change I made was asking for help. I did not want to start this journey alone. I am a busy mom, and I have routines. I have to take away the pressure to fulfill a schedule and tend to her first. My husband helps when he is home, encouraging her to potty, and sitting with her when she needs us. 

Or looking away when she doesn't.

At first she would cry, and scream. The battle was just getting her to want to sit on a toilet. We bought her a Minnie Mouse Potty, and she loved it, but not enough to sit on it. So we would give her small toys, books or technology (our word for tablets, or phones). We also bribed her with her favorite gummies. She saw us buy them at the market. We got home and she wanted gummies, we told her she'd only get gummies if she sat on the potty and tried to use it. It worked!

After trying for a month, she began to tell us when her tummy "hurt," meaning she was ready to poop. 

This time, medication, counseling, and freaking breathing helped tremendously. My husband helped more than before. He encouraged her to try, and she was happy to try. I never raised my voice. I was not unkind. We all told her she could, as a family unit, and she did. 

Proud AF, 

Kathy 

Writing emails to my mental health provider

The first time I had a Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder episode, after going on the generic version of Lexapro I was a wreck. I felt depression all over again and had self negative talk constantly on my mind. The thought of having to write an email to my doctor to try and fix what was happening was a constant source of stress. On top of all the other perceived stressors. 

I don't want worry to stop anyone from seeking help. Especially from a trusted professional. Therapists, psychologists and doctors are here to help us deal with our lives, and aid us in becoming a better version of ourselves. Over time, they get to know us as who we really are, flawed individuals who want to live a better life. 

These are all ideas that helped me write my emails. Use my ideas to build your own emails, to tell your own story. We are all so beautifully unique, don't allow that light to dim during your low points. 

Find a way to flourish. 

Things I kept in mind when writing an email to my mental health provider:

Keep it simple: stick to key points:

*State the problem:

I am having a PMDD episode.

or 

I had a PMDD episode

*When?

State the date(s), times

*Does it fit a pattern?

I have had PMDD episodes 7 days before my period, this episode fits that pattern. 

*What happened during the episode?

I did not feel in control of my emotions during my episode. I had the following symptoms: depression, negative talk, suicidal ideation...

*What do you think was the trigger to your episode? (Super optional)

The trigger may have been I felt overwhelmed by: ___________

*How are you currently feeling?

At this time I feel sad, but I called the hotline number I was provided and feel more in control. 

Or 

I am feeling very sad and angry. 

Be honest. 

*Finally: What is that YOU need?

I would like to speak to you about adjusting my medication. 

Or

I need to schedule an appointment with you to discuss next steps. 

Or

What do you suggest the next steps should be?

Or

I have made the following adjustments...

I hope this helps someone feel less overwhelmed about writing to their doctor(s). 

Love always, 

Kathy 

Pictures - Jewelry making as a PMDD hobby - plus random things

Hi!

Some pictures!

Reworked this necklace due to its poor construction. 

I ended up loving the new design even more. 

 This picture doesn't show the detail

This is my daughter's, she arranged the colors and I added the clear beads.

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Organizing stones by size 

The tray is from the Target $1 Spot. 

I use it for everything, slime, paint, food. 

Noah picked out the beads and made the whole thing himself!

We talked about measurement, counting & estimating how many beads he needed. 

I used a picture from Alaska as inspiration for these necklaces

The gradient is from green to white, but now I wish I would of gone white to green

They look better as separate pieces

This next picture I love! But the necklace broke! I'm still learning.

I had to re-do a majority of my pieces, my clasps were not on properly. Live and learn. 

That's my hair, looks so shiny! Sunny days in L.A.

I made this for my husband's birthday. It's a box I made into a door? lol what is this. 

Our kids collected the leaves and painted them by using watercolors.

Why paint leaves? 'Cus kids need creativity. Collecting leaves, picking the best ones and then making them their own. I'm sure nature approves. It lives with us.

I tied it up with a ribbon, added pipe cleaners as a door knocker, tiny branches as door handles and it looked like a little house 

(I'm a dork)