A touchy topic keeps popping up in my discussions lately. “Do we as parents treat one child harsher than the other?”

I can honestly say that my husband and I are guilty of this. I attempted to break our behaviors down to understand why, and hopefully make some changes.

I am rough on my daughter, my husband is more gentle. I tend to be easier on my son, where as my husband is pretty tough on him.

Here are my thoughts. Being a female in the current state of the world is not easy. It’s actually friggin’ hard. When my 8 year old daughter comes home crying saying that boys in her class teased her about her hairy legs (she has some Greek and Italian genes,) or how some other little boy makes fun of everything she says or does, my initial reaction is not so pleasant. After I take a breath, I want to contact the parents of these gentlemen in training and ask for a little help, or email her teacher and request she intervene. But the reaction that usually seems to explode out of me is, “You need to tell them to shut up, stand up for yourself, be strong!”  I want to tell her I know what it feels like to be bullied. I know that you’re going to have boys/men make sexist, demeaning and disgusting comments towards you. Those boys/men may then laugh it off as if it were their lame attempt at humor, but you will know and sadly they will know that it was not a joke. I want to tell her that she will always have to be aware of her surroundings. I want to tell her that she will have to continue to fight for control over her own body and  rights. I want to tell her that I have felt the physical pain that accompanies PCOS and autoimmune issues, and hopefully she won’t have to, but who knows how the genetic lottery will play out, so toughen up. I want to tell her how suffocating infertility and miscarriages are, and how defective both make you feel. I want to tell her that it is imperative that she leave unhealthy relationships, and that it is not her job to make everyone happy. Instead, when she cries over what I may consider silly things, or she shares that someone is bothering her, or she complains about her annoying brother, I tell her to be stronger.

I want to tell her that being a girl is an amazing thing. I want to tell her that she has a strength in her that is equal to no other. I want to tell her that it is okay to be soft sometimes. She is loving, funny, weird, artistic, athletic and intelligent.  She should foster those qualities and never allow anyone else’s opinions or behaviors diminish them.  My husband is gentler with her. I know he wants to protect her. I know this because I want to protect her too. Except I know she doesn’t just need my protection. She needs me as her role model. She needs to learn to self-advocate and defend herself. I need to find a balance.

My son is a different story. I want to shield him from all of the macho bravado bullshit. I want to teach him that being a man means you see women as your equals. Do not feel threatened by powerful women, learn from them. It is okay to feel and to cry. It is okay to love and to nurture. Use your strength to help and maybe even protect those who cannot help themselves. Move on from toxic people. Do not fall into the “boys will be boys” trap.  Own your failures and learn from them. Guard your character fiercely. Of course, this all comes out in the form of me being too easy on him. Again, I need to find that balance.

We’re raising good kids. People tell us this all of the time. It is nice to hear because most of the time we just feel like we’re fucking up. Being a parent is so hard. How much do you tell them? What should you do for them and what do you make them do for themselves? When do you let them fail and when do you step in and save them?  All of these questions and thoughts course through your brain at lightning speed when reprimanding, comforting and teaching. No wonder why parents are always exhausted! And things get more complicated when your children are mini versions of yourself!

Good Luck to all of the people out there raising strong, independent, respectful, loving, compassionate sons and daughters. Know that you are not alone, and hopefully our kids will be the positive change our world desperately needs.

I took my first dose of Methotrexate last Friday night.  I woke up Saturday with a dull headache and some nausea.  I went to a mom’s night out and had a blast.  Rookie move.  I woke up Sunday and felt like a mack truck ran over me, backed up and ran over me again!

Monday morning brought a new sense of hope and a nice boost of energy.  I found myself walking around my classroom more. I went up and down our front steps like an adult instead of a shaky, unsure toddler learning how to navigate stairs.  I came home and remained in my clothes instead of immediately changing into my favorite pair of sweats and a hoodie.  I got my eyebrows waxed.  I went out after being home! I made dinner. I slept without taking a sleeping aid. Today, I’m tired.

Since I need to remain hydrated while on Methotrexate, I have increased my water intake.  This has me running to the bathroom every 15 minutes. (Sorry Leddy!) However, I think the Prednisone is holding onto some of it. I’ve noticed that my face is puffy and I’m feeling more bloated than usual. Fingers crossed that this changes soon, as I’m beginning to feel like Violet Beauregarde. 

Now onto a more important topic.  Mom’s…I’m freaking the fuck out about Christmas! I have a few things for the girl kid, but nothing at all yet for the boy. He wants BIG things now.  I so want to be like the moms in Bad Moms. I want to relax this holiday season, but the micromanager in me won’t allow it. She’s tightened her grasp on my anxiety, and is holding on like her existence depends on it. In the back of my mind, I’m planning a first communion party and a summer vacation, crunching numbers and debating on selling a kidney while they both still work!

Why can’t I just not worry? The more stressed I get, the more my joints ache.  I have tried meditating, yoga, chamomile tea, CBD oil and nothing is helping me to relax and live in the moment. HELP ME!!!!!

The saga continues.

The new doctor turned out to be a lot more thorough than I would ever have expected. I initially thought that being seen almost 2 hours late was going to be a bad thing. She takes her time!

I also thought that copious amounts of blood work and 66 x-rays were excessive. However, the blood work ruled out lupus and the X-rays found an abnormality on my spine. I was then sent for an MRI to rule out cancer. It was a LONG week of waiting for the results. When you’re faced with a potential cancer diagnosis, your mind never shuts off but ironically you tend to walk through the days brainless.

We had just left my son’s 1st basketball game of the season and the team and Jake did awesome. I was happy. Then my doctor called as I was in the checkout line at Stop and Shop. I left my salad bar stuff and my family to go outside and hear the news. Thankfully she began the conversation with, “Colleen, you don’t have cancer. But you do have A LOT of things going on.” She proceeded to list more things than I can remember. After each diagnosis, she said, “and…” I don’t know if my ears stopped hearing or my brain stopped processing. I was so relieved that I didn’t have cancer, but now what. How do I even start to deal with everything she was saying.

“3 herniated discs, a slipped disc, fluid in a couple of vertebrae (inflammatory arthritis and some osteoarthritis) significant degenerative disc disease, two pinched nerves and some spinal stenosis. They also found a 6cm cyst on your ovary. We’ll talk Monday about where we go from here, but I’d like to start with some steroid injections in your spine.”

Umm…okay, thank you. It was all I could muster. I sat in the truck looking out at the street lights and just cried.

What. The. Fuck?!?

How am I mobile?

Is all of this on top of the inflammatory arthritis and fibromyalgia diagnoses?

Do I still need to inject methotrexate into myself as well.

Am I going to be able to exercise ever again?

Am I going to end up in a wheelchair?

I do not want to burden my family. I do not want to never be able to exercise and feel healthy again. I do not want surgery. I don’t want to have to keep relying on other people.

So here we are. I have a lot of questions and concerns. I know that I need to be patient with both my doctor and myself as we maneuver through this information and develop a treatment plan.

I am thankful for my new doctor and her persistence to find out what is causing my pain and swelling. I am thankful for my family, friends and bosses for being more than supportive. Thank you for your positive thoughts, prayers, texts, and phone calls. I am slowly making my way back into the land of the living.

I have been an absentee blogger, as usual.

Like everyone else on this planet, I have been busy.  I have been busy being a mom to two very active, sometimes overbooked kids.  I have been busy being a wife to a man who works too hard and too much. I have been busy being a teacher to a class of middle school students (no adjectives needed!) And I have been busy slowly slipping into the rut I now find myself in.  Whatever is going on with my autoimmune system and joints is seriously kicking my ass.

I did not really sleep all that well last night, but I decided to drive down to see my Nana today.  As the rain was coming down and the kids were yelling at one another about playing with some toy, “Something Just Like This” came on the radio.  I’ve been saying it’s my new favorite song for a couple of weeks now, but today, it felt different.

I have a full-time job, as does my husband. We have 2 kids, 2 dogs, 2 cats, 2 frogs and some fish.  We have conflicting schedules.  We have debt.  We have home repairs galore and no money to complete them.  We have cars that need fixing, tuition that needs paying, and groceries that need buying. On any given day, one or more of my joints may feel like they’re imploding. My new diagnosis is negatively impacting my older diagnosis, PCOS. My hormones are all over the place and my body doesn’t know whether it’s coming or going. Currently, my husband works nights and I work days.  We have baseball, track, soccer gymnastics, and drum lessons…this month!

I digress, but stick with me.  I promise that my rambling is somehow connected to my new favorite song.  My life is messy and tumultuous.  My house looks like a mini pet hair filled tornado sweeps through it daily.  My car looks like we live in it, because we kind of do. I’m sure that my family and friends feel neglected at times.  And, my brain is in a constant state of worry.

But…I love it all.  I love the chaos, the mess, the pain, the hugs, the tears, the giggles, the kisses, the arguments, the “I love yous,” the Something Just Like This.

I’m mostly writing this all out for myself. I need to wrap my head around some things.

I have been hearing and reading comments about the horrible women marching for abortion rights on 1/21. It saddens me to think that some people think that is what that march was about. It also angers me to hear people say, “your candidate lost, get over it.” 1/21/17 was not an anti-Trump march. It was not a bunch of winey women and men complaining about the president elect. The march was a call for unity and equality. It was to call attention to the slippery slope our country is currently heading down. A slope that the new leadership seems to be embracing and at times advocating.

It was a PEACEFUL demonstration telling the US government and the world that women’s health issues and decisions are their own, that homosexuals cannot be shocked into being straight, that all people deserve the right to marry, that science is real and our planet needs protection, that equal pay for equal work is a no brainer, and that there is no place for racism in our country. Men, women and children of all races, religions, ages, socioeconomic backgrounds, and nationalities joined together to make their voices heard.

I have a son and a daughter. They are both being raised to be accepting, kind, strong individuals. My son is being taught that boys and girls are equal. Girls are not viewed as things to look at, and acquire. My daughter is being taught the same. She can do and be whatever she wants and no one has the right to tell her otherwise. My children can defend themselves and others. They are kind. I hope they continue to live how they have been taught, and lead by example.

Trust me, I understand the frustration that comes from seeing illegal immigrants taking advantage of the welfare system. The same frustration happens when I see white Americans doing it. Does that mean all immigrants are free loaders or that the entire welfare system needs to be dismantled? Nope, it means some changes need to be made. Is the thought of terrorists committing violent acts a reality? It sure is, but it does not mean that every middle easterner is a member of ISIS. Does your religion say that abortion or certain methods of birth control are wrong? Maybe. But not everyone is a member of your religion. There is still a separation of church and state, and in the United States of America, all citizens are guaranteed equal rights.

So, this is my 2 cents. Do I think a man who thinks it’s okay to grab females by their genitalia should be president? Absolutely not. Do I think a man who thinks electrocuting homosexuals into being straight should be second in control of our great country? Again, not on your life. Do I think a woman who has zero experience with the public school system should be in charge of our national education system? Hell no. And this is why we march and this is why we make our voices heard. It’s not about difference of opinions. It’s about a fundamental lack of respect. It’s about people acquiring positions of power because of the amount of money they donated, or the connections they have. You can say you’re not a racist or a misogynist, yet not taking action against sexism and racism is saying you’re okay with it. You can say that as a female you’re content with watching more and more of what so many of our ancestors fought for, being slowly and systematically stolen. You can say that you’re not fearful for your daughters, and granddaughters, but I cannot say that.

So I will continue to question, and advocate, and fight, and post on social media. With all this being said, I do not hope that the president elect fails. I do hope that he listens to the millions of people in the United States and around the world and commands with integrity and respect for all.

Sometimes absence makes the heart grow fonder.  So…did you miss me?

I have to admit something.  I was not just too busy with life since the summer to write.  I was so busy with life that I actually forgot about writing.  I have been too distracted and utterly exhausted to even think about being creative.  That. Is. Sad.  I have been sad.  This winter took a dramatic turn for the worse in early December and there really hasn’t been much improvement since 2015 arrived. But, I’m not giving up hope.

I really didn’t have anything in mind when I sat down to type today.  There are so many things that I could and should, and will write about, when the time is right.  Today, I just want to haphazardly let my fingers dance and skip across the keyboard. I miss the click, click click of the keys as letters pop up before my eyes.  I miss reading and re-reading my sentences while my mind wanders to the expanding mound of laundry in the basement, why my two clamorous children are as silent as I am when I sneak into the bathroom so they don’t hear me, and to the ever maddening question of “what’s for dinner?”

There are a few other things on my mind:

1) I. HATE. SNOW!!!! It was fun and pretty, but now it is the bane of my existence.  I haven’t been to work in over a week because of the copious amounts that have fallen, and tonight 12-16 more inches of that shit is going to fall.

2) I will be 39 in 109 days.  This needs to be my year.  I NEED to focus on getting healthy and staying healthy. I do not want to be a frumpy 40 year old.

3) My kids are growing much faster than I’d like.  I am still working on yelling/cleaning/obsessing less and just letting them be kids more.

4) And last but not least…. GO PATS!!!!! 

The  title is a little tribute to my brother.  You’re welcome Bill.

Honestly though, this does feel a little like a comeback.  I have been MIA from the WordPress World.  Once again, I allowed the events, stressors, and fatigue from daily life to keep me from writing.  I know excuses, excuses.   So here’s a little update:

My husband’s goddaughter moved in and moved out. (We all miss her, but we’re happy that she’s happy.)

I went back to work. (Sadly, my summer ended on 8/26 and I’m back to being a full-time working mommy.)

My son started first grade and my daughter returned to her “school” as well. (These transitions were the smoothest of all!!!)

I fell off of the Yoga Booty Ballet wagon, but am happy to say that I have returned. (I like when my body doesn’t ache with every move.)

I downloaded a couch to 5K app, as we’re planning on running a 5K for my son’s school in April. (Dear God, please help me.  I am not a runner…yet!)

The numbers on the scale are still moving downward, but at an extremely sluggish pace.  My body feels and looks different.  My clothes are fitting a smidgen better. But the numbers are slowly driving me mad.

I have an appointment with the head of the Women’s Dermatology/Hair Loss Clinic at Brigham and Women’s.  I’m hoping she can provide some assistance so I’m not bald by the time I’m 40.

My friend and I took my cousin’s wedding pictures last Saturday, and I now want to quit my job and take photographs for a living. (Big Dreams!!!)

September and PCOS Awareness month is coming to an end.  I will leave you with this: