Category Archives: Family

My Mom

Screen Shot 2014-12-18 at 10.08.48 AMMy Mom. What can I say? She unique, and crazy <— Sorry Mom.

I recently just invited new/old/wannabe bloggers to come together to inspire/motivate one another via a 12 week Ambition (I don’t know if I am using that word correctly, I just don’t want to use goal/challenge) of 12 writing topics. Focus is, well I want to read more from the EVERYDAY person, and also I want you to be able to DOCUMENT your thoughts and experiences. We all have a story to tell, you don’t have to be a pro/everyday blogger to take advantage of a live journal.

When I posted the idea, there was a small bit of me that thought of my mom. It wasn’t a small bit, I said to myself “Mom should do this. I won’t ask her, but if she sees it she should do it.” … This morning I sat down at the computer and saw her post on my photo “I’m in.”.

My mom is quite the story teller. My writing abilities, and the way I share stories, well, I inherited it from her. She has for the longest time, in different ways, has always had a story to tell, or has had MY story to tell. What makes her unique, is that she is funny. Funny in an REAL brass way.

Most people expect to see an older version of me, and when they do get to meet my mom, I have heard more than once “Yeah, thats NOT your mom“… Then my mom gets talking, and her attitude/personality comes through, then “Yeah, I can see how thats your mom”.

What are your parents like?
“ah, well my dad is from Colombia. We kinda look exactly alike”
“That explains your features, I was wondering what exactly you were…What about your mom?”
My mom? She’s from Jersey.
Ha! JOISEY? That DOES explain a lot
No, not JOISEY. Did I say she was from New York? JERSEY… Like a JERSEY cow. My mom would rip your damn face off saying JOISEY like an idiot…” <— That right there is my moms personality shining through me. Because she would rip your face off if you said JOISEY, or she would say “NO. I am from Jersey. Not Joisey, I don’t believe that is even a state”.

What makes my mom interesting as well, is that she has a bit of a temper. A short one. She doesn’t take shit. She opens her big Jersey mouth and just says it, getting her self into trouble more times than I can count. She just doesn’t have a filter. I think you see that a lot with people from the East coast. If they got something to say, they will say it, and make sure you heard them. My moms abruptness has been a blessing and a nightmare. I could always rely on coming home and telling my mom how someone was mean to me, then her chasing down whoever and give them a piece of her mind. My favorite term of endearment that she has for assholes is “That little prick…”<— Everyone is a little prick to her (I laugh as I type this).

I have done posts before referencing things I have learned from my dad, and I know once I publish them that my mom will be most likely pissed. Because in reality, though I have learned a lot of life lessons via my dads opinions on tackling life, my mom was there through my life.

Maybe she wasn’t there in a happy sappy mommy way, but she was there. She pushed me into things to challenge me, I hated most of those things, and even resent them now, but I learned so much. She made sure I had the best when it came to my sport. She drug my ass all over Southern California (the nation really) for softball tournaments/lessons. She tried her best to give us 4 kids what she could, or what SHE thought we needed.

She’s tough, she’s mean, but at the same time she takes care of those she has. Hell, she is a NURSE (30 years), its her job to TAKE CARE of people. She may not have always done it in the best way or manner, but we were always taken care of.

No matter how much I feel she may have let me down in life, I know that I am stronger for it. My STRENGTH and FORTITUDE as a person, I have learned through my mom. I feel as though I retained the best of both parents, but if it wasn’t for her persistence, and “Get shit done” attitude, I would be nowhere in life.

Screen Shot 2014-12-18 at 10.09.35 AMIn the end my mom is always there, like a mom should be. My mom has been there when I have been falling apart. I know I can call her even after not talking to her for nearly a year, I can say “Hey” and she know whether I am in a good or bad place. I can also call and not make a sound, and hear her turn into the Jersey doberman she is and say in her stern voice “Chris, whats wrong?!”.

Again my mom is tough as shit. She can handle anything. Well maybe not EVERYTHING. I was lucky enough to have my mom in the car with me last year when I passed out behind the wheel (the day we were supposed to leave for Ohio for my first 140.6). I didn’t realize how sick I was, I had just left the doctors office, was pulling off base, when I just didn’t feel well and passed out while turning in an intersection. I don’t know what happened, or how it happened, but she said I just started convulsing. Somehow she got us pulled over into someones front yard. I remember waking up and hearing her scream at me “CHRIS! CHRIS! C’mon! CHRIS! You are having a seizure! WaKE UP! CHRIS!“, she was losing her shit. She could probably handle blood and guts spewing everywhere, all while drinking a cup of coffee, but to see her own child like that, well I am sure its terrifying. I remember then hearing her scream at 911, “We are outside of the base. I don’t know where we are. The ADDRESS?! I don’t know the FUCKING ADDRESS! I just said I DONT KNOW WHERE WE ARE! WHAT PART OF THAT DONT YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!“.<—- My mom is such a sweetheart.

Thank God she was there. Who knows how that could evolved. I could have gone headfirst into traffic, crashed into someones home… Egh. Terrible. Also helped to have a nurse on hand… Oh but did I mention that one of the firefighters that responded to the scene was one of my bosses from the running shop? Yeah, picture me now, outside the car on the passenger side, pants down around my ankles because I shitting AND vomiting on the side of the road, unable to control anything, and my boss peaks over the door and says “Hey girl! Whats up?”, “Whats up?!?! I AM SHITTING AND PISSING ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD KEVIN! Thats whats up!”…Of course that would happen, then had to listen to him and my mom fight over who would take my car. He didn’t realize she was my mom, and she just had no clue he was. So still sitting there with my pants down I had to introduce them… Was totally an interesting day…

But yeah. My mom. Not the typical mom, but she is MY mom. Thanks Mom, for everything. I love you.

**Also I am nervous and scared of what she talk about on her blog. Whatever it is, will probably be extremely raw and completely ridiculous. Its gonna be worth the read**


Just a Daily: Battleships & Surfers


This past weekend we walked over to the beach. Why we are NOT there every weekend I have o clue. Hell we are so close now…I could just about pick up my computer, walk over and still get WIFI (just about THAT close). **I just jumped up, picked up my camera, and ran out there in my house slippers! Super close, and a LITTLE cold today**.


While out there I got a little reminder of how I am blessed with little creators. Once we hit the sand my little bees get to work. Chloe starts the hunt for sea shells to make cakes & castles and Mark finds the perfect stick or shell to create a masterpiece in the sand. He normally makes race tracks, but that day he decided to create a battle scene. Force fields were involved.

UntitledUntitledWe were also lucky enough to catch one of the bigger ships pulling out for deployment. Little Mark saw it first and needed a picture (second picture down), he also made me take a picture of the ship zoomed in so he can draw it later, such a little cutie.

My little man ALSO hounded me to go surfing. He stood there for awhile watching the surfers, totally envious. I constantly have to explain to him that he needs a wetsuit, and that I am not going to stand there pushing him onto the board in the cold water. He doesn’t get it, he just wants to surf “But Mama, I can stand up on the board! Just one wave? Real quick, it won’t be that cold.” <–  I look at him like he is crazy, but love his want to be out on the water.

**Though not a topic driven post, this will be a DAILY (somewhat) of my normal happenings. Not only do I write for myself to remember the little things, but Mark to would like to be able to see the little things that happen day to day. This is for you 🙂 Thank you for reading**


Parenthood: I don’t think so Homeslice…

Untitled1. I like to read.
2. I have kids. 2 of them. Ages 5 and 6.

For some of you, thats a “no shit”, for some its a “no way!”.

This just brings me to this mornings read. I have to admit something though, I bought another magazine. I cant help it, I saw it, was totally enticing, I even was in line, walked OUT of line (while the cashier was ringing me up), just to slip into an aisle that had the current issue of Real Simple.

What made me get it? It says “Let it Go” on the cover. I saw it while walking across the store to get to the creamer. After reading it, my thoughts kept bouncing around from “I wonder what their New Years New You BS is..” to singing “Let it go, Let it go, Cant hold it back anymore” (My 5 year old is a princess obsessed singing maniac. I know all the words not because I have seen the movie Frozen a million times but because she has sung that song a BILLION times <— With hand movements, flicking of hair (did I tell you she cut her own hair to give herself bangs like Queen Elsa?), and the twirling of a dress she isn’t wearing).

Back to Real Simple… I have been a reader for years. Its one of the prettiest cover magazines, with nothing behind it. Yep, they get me with the cover, but they keep it too simple with absolutely worthless content. I’ll give them some credit, they have gotten better, and some issues are better than others. Though sometimes what can make a magazine worth the purchase is just ONE picture or ONE paragraph.

This time they got me with their article “How to Raise a DIY Kid”. What does it say? Let your kids do shit for themselves. Yep, we live in an age of indulgence and baby the crap out of our kids. There are so many times that I get so frustrated with how ungrateful they can be, but they just don’t know any other way. My parents didn’t do 85% of the things I bend over backwards to do just to please a 5 & 6 year old. Its stupid. Its mind blowing.

Had a friend give me a really good piece of advice once. We had walked to the park, all I wanted to do was sit down, chat with friend, but the kids wanted someone to play with (though they have each other). They wanted someone to push them on the swing, or go down the slide, or do this or that… It was hot, and I remember being so frustrated. “GO PLAY! PLEASE! Stop interrupting the adults! IF YOU DONT GO PLAY, WE ARE LEAVING!“, I think they saw red in my eyes and scattered, but only for a moment. Then my friend said “Hey, relax, its not YOUR job to entertain them.“. What? Wait. Your right. It ISNT my job. We then reminisced on how we couldn’t wait to run away from parents once we got to the park as children. How you did everything to avoid them, and NOT bother them so you could stay and play as long as you wanted. Though I believe we should play and interact with our children, I don’t believe in being a slave to their wants and needs.

Another point made in the article is, well, “Think about whether your child has the necessary skills-enough dexterity and balance or simply adequate sleep and snack. Yes? Then back away from the shoe laces.” I do everything for those kids. Main reason, because its easier and faster for me to do it. Are they going to learn though? No way.

Just last week I was pouring their cereal, making breakfast, checking their backpacks to make sure everything was there, writing teachers notes, making checks for extracurricular activities, all that… I couldn’t think, and asked Mark to carry his bowl of cereal to the table. Normally I do this. I do it all. I get bowl, spoon, milk, cereal, tell them to sit down, then pour milk into bowl, pour cereal, hand them bowl, hand them spoon, hand them napkin, all the while doing what I said above… But this time I just simply asked him to walk his bowl to the table…He did, but right as he made it to the table he knocked his elbow on the chair every so slightly and spilled cheerios & milk EVERYWHERE. He automatically was shocked, upset then turned to me and said…

“MOM! Look what you made me do!”
What I made you do? What the shit? BOY! He blamed me because I gave him a simple thing to do, to feed himself, while I was getting things done for him. I wanted to freak out. I was filled with rage. That little shit. He continued to look at me with a face of putting all blame on me…
“Oh I don’t think so homeslice. You walk your arse straight into that kitchen, get a paper towel, DONT YOU PULL OUT TOO MANY, then walk back over there and clean that up!! NOW! Then don’t you EVER blame me for something like that again. Did I knock your elbow? NO I DIDNT. Take responsibility for your OWN actions, MARK HEBERT! DONT EVER PUT THE BLAME ON SOMEONE ELSE! And you know what, no cereal for you. Have a granola bar.

UntitledWho knows if I handled that situation as a proper parent. What I DO know is, that if I said that to my parents, they wouldn’t have said a WORD, but would have walked up to me and slapped me upside the head. First, you don’t talk to parents (adults) that way, second you did it yourself.

What came out of that situation? Mark now carries both his and Chloes’ bowl to the table. SUPER CAREFUL. Even screams “GET AWAY CHLOE!” so she doesn’t cause him to spill. Then once he has the bowls secure on the table, he looks up at me and smiles. Inside I am smiling, but I give him a stern thats-right face. Though its not the nicest of my faces, he knows me well enough to know, that I am happy he handled the situation and did that for his sister.

Also I am now remembering an instance where I slept in one weekend. When I woke up, I came to the kitchen saw them watching netflix (they know how to turn this on, on the big tv), I asked if they wanted some cereal, Chloe replies “No thank you Mama. We already had some.“, I was a tad confused, looked over at the table, I saw some split milk, but no bowls. Chloe sees me looking and says “I put them on the counter because I couldn’t put them in the sink, Im too little.” Hmm. Ok. Apparently if hungry enough they can feed themselves, and put away their dishes.

Never underestimate your child. I underestimate them all the time. I can work on that though. Tomorrow I am going to set everything out, and have them prepare their own bowls, then after Christmas break have them start making their own sandwiches for school. The biggest test for me here, is not letting them do it, but having the patience to let them take the reins and do it for themselves.

I guess it takes a reminder via a magazine article that our children need to learn in order to grow, and even though it can be hard for them (and for my patience), well, the hard is what makes it worth it, and they CAN do hard things.


Just a Daily: Karate Chop, Missing Teeth and a Sew-Along?


You guys, today I woke up with a karate chop! Hi-YA!

No, really I did. I had just woke up, bright eyed and busy tailed (yep, this lady was asleep before 8 pm last night), was doing the internet addict thing of checking instagram/facebook/email before I even got out of bed, when I felt breathing on the back of my neck… “Hey Mom!, I nearly took out my little Mark. He gave me a big teeth-missing smile (he lost his second tooth yesterday at school), “Can I have some cereal?”

Of course my love.



Last night I was sitting in my comfy chair (above), knitting EXTREMELY slow. If you were watching me, you might have thought I was on slo-mo. I was just watching every step of each stitch, looking at the colors, and wondering “WHY THE HELL IS THIS RIBBING TAKING FOREVER?”.

Then I stopped, looked up and said (OUT LOUD) to myself, “Im tired”. It was only 6:30 pm, I was confused, but I knew I was exhausted. I got the kids into bed by 7 pm, and I don’t remember much after that. I think I tried reading, I couldn’t possible believe that I could go to sleep now. I normally lay in bed wide awake past midnight with a million things on my mind. Last night my body just gave up. It was done. Hell I still needed to get on the bike, make another hat… I was banking on the upcoming 5 hours I am normally awake.

IMG_9824IMG_9823Next thing I am abruptly woken up from an amazing dream by my alarm. 7 am. Whoa. Wow. I feel amazing. Heck the kids got themselves up (Mark scaring the crap out of me in my room). Well Chloe didn’t get out of bed, but she did wake up with a smile. Usually its like fighting a possessed child till she completely wakes up and realizes that this is the real world, and that her Mom has already been pushed over the edge of insanity within the 5 minutes she’s been awake.

Its a good morning people. Ive got laundry done <— Most of it FOLDED and put AWAY (holy shit, I know, high fives all around, I’ll be here till 5 pm, thank you!). Ha! Now that I think about it, thats all I’ve done all morning. It seems like I have conquered the world. Can I get bonus points for actually filling up a bag of giveaway clothes?

Also, let me drop an IDEA into your head, anyone up for a Sew-Along? Quilt style? Maybe baby quilt, or a bad ass pillow? I’ll find an amazing pattern, we can virtually shop together for coordinating fabric, then bust out the sewing machines. *If you don’t have a sewing machine, I can totally help you find a vintage one via Craigslist for $20-$40 <— cool huh?*. Baby steps together, as a team… A sewing team…Mmm…

**Though not a topic driven post, this will be a DAILY (somewhat) of my normal happenings. Not only do I write for myself to remember the little things, but Mark to would like to be able to see the little things that happen day to day. This is for you 🙂 Thank you for reading**


There is something in my room…

IMG_0859What have you been doing? Um, do you not stalk me via social media like I do YOU? I have been knitting like a little ole’ lady with nothing to do and 10 dachshunds to make sweaters for. Ha! But seriously I have been knitting, probably for you.

Other than yarn, and hats… there was something in my room (well the guest room, sorry guests).

Before I get to whats lurking in my room lets recap a little. I am tired. More like exhausted. I’ve been staying up too late knitting while watching the history channel (I am a pro on all knowledge of ancient aliens). Plus add in Ironman training, phew, thank goodness next week starts a taper.  Keeping up house, keeping the kids entertained and fed. Plus… just everything.

Along with being physically a little tired (though I feel like I am kicking ass), I am mentally fried. I stay up till I cant see anymore and make my way to bed every night with one eye open. I look like Igor hobbling to bed, because once I get off the couch, (for some reason) I walk hunched over, straight to my bed and throw myself on it. Then with face in the pillow, I some how kick my legs around till I am halfway under the covers, and pass out.

I am DEAD to the world. BOOM. Passed out, sleeping good. Yes, yes, I know I should go to bed earlier, but if I don’t go to bed EXHAUSTED I just lay there with my mind running for hours…

So last night, I was asleep…. sleeping good. Until I hear something **TUMP TUMP TUMP**, not “thump”, but TUMP. I am still laying on my stomach, lift my head up, look over my shoulder and think “what the hell?”. Where is this noise coming from? ALL AROUND ME.

I don’t hear it again, and put my head down. My heart is racing a little, I don’t want to freak myself out, I relax and put my head down. Then ***TUMP! TUMP! TUMP! TUMP! TUMP! TUMP! TUMP!***, I sit up, throw the blankets, “WHAT THE HELL!!?!?!”<— as if my voice will SCARE whatever is happening. The sound is coming from above me, the noise happens again, ***TUMP! TUMP! TUMP! TUMP! TUMP! TUMP! TUMP!***, I look up and see a dark shadow shoot across ceiling. “OH MY GOD!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!”.

IMG_0861I jumped out of bed, bashing my knee on the treadmill (did I say I am sleeping in the guest room because… Just because bed feels better?….), I am so pumped with adrenaline that I barely feel it, I fall out the door, into the hallway where I look over my shoulder and see the shadow again SHOOT towards me…

Now I have the bathroom light on, so there is some light filling the little hallway, so when this dark creatures shoots (really it kinda floated) towards me into the hallway, I realize its not dark, but orange, and its not a creature, its a balloon. A damn balloon. A balloon that was in its last days, that I forgot I hid in the closet (why I didn’t pop it? Because the kids would have cried as if I killed a bunny rabbit), it must have floated out, and up into the fan (hence the *TUMP TUMP TUMP*).

I am so mad at this balloon. But its 12:30 am, I cant pop it, I actually carry it into the kitchen (dragging it like a bad child), and tie it to the pantry door <— most random thing to do but I really didn’t know what to do with it. I was pissed, fuming, still scared, and STARVING.

Starving? Yeah, don’t ask, but I’ve been so hungry lately that I would eat tubs of butter if I thought it would stick to my bones and fill me. So now I am starving, and staring at the balloon, as I stand in the middle of the kitchen.

Eggos! I bought eggos. I spent the rest of my night eating 5 eggos smothered in syrup, while staring at the balloon tied to the door…. I just stared, and ate every morsel of those dang Eggos. I had to stay up for another hour because I was STILL scared (every time I thought of being scared I would look over to the pantry door and squint at the balloon, just floating there like it owns the place).

I eventually went to bed, only to sleep in too late… Woke up late, hurried the kids to eat breakfast, where CHLOE sees the balloon tied to the door…. “BAAAALLLLLLOOOOOON!!!” <– She runs to it, like its her long lost love. She grabs it, confused why its tied to the door, meanwhile I am watching her, I am EXHAUSTED, and you know what I did? I walked right up to her and that balloon, yanked it from her hands, and POPPED it.

Yep, right in front of her face. Her little round face just looked up at me, in complete shock, then said “Mama, you’re crazy!”, I could only stare down at her, not knowing what to say, but feeling amazing with the pay back on the balloon, eventually I snapped out of my glorious moment of revenge, looked down at Chloe, who is still staring at me like I am crazy but with also this little face demanding an explanation on to why I murdered her precious balloon…

That little brat crossed her arms across her chest, and gave me a “look”. I bent over, looked her square in the eyes and said/screamed “SOCKS AND SHOES!!!!!”, she rolled her eyes, threw her arms in the air and walked away muttering “Socks and shoes, socks and shoes, its always socks and shoes, but my balloon has no sock and shoes!” <—– NOW insert the crying as if I killed a bunny rabbit in front of her….

How was YOUR morning?

Pumpkins, Casper and Popcorn


If there is one random fact I could share with you about Chloe, its that she doesn’t forget ANYTHING. As for me, I cant find car keys that are IN MY HAND, and or I cant find my phone though I am talking to someone while freaking out… Yeah, thats me.

So Chloe kindly reminded me this morning that at one point (probably during a major freak out, where I just wanted peace and quiet) I promised that we would decorate for halloween, and that I promised to do it today because it was a short day at school. She said all that “matter-of-factly”, I just looked at her, squinted my eyes and said “FINE! NOW PLEASE PUT ON YOUR SOCKS AND SHOES!!”


My day was packed, going to doctors appointments (where I happened to be at the wrong clinic), getting new outfits for picture day (I swear they have worn down everything they own), and then sitting in the parking lot of Target emailing Mark trying to explain to him that I promised a magical Halloween decorating day, and if I don’t pull through I will fail as a mother <— It was hot, I was having a melt down, and these decorations were the source.

I will braggingly say that I didn’t buy ANYTHING extra while at Target! HA! I did something BETTER. I actually LEFT a bag of groceries there! <— Paying it forward, but I don’t really think I needed the Pillsbury peanut butter cookies with Reeses pieces (OMG that sounds so good right now…). There WERE a bag of brussel sprouts though …. egh, screw the sprouts! EAT ALL THE COOKIES!!

I was the hero of the day though. First thing they asked when they got in the car “ARE WE DECORATING FOR HALLOWEEN!?!”, I looked in the rear view mirror, smiled and said “look in the back”, to their amazement there were 3 perfectly shaped pumpkins. Then Chloe says “YAY! I cant wait to paint them!” <—- I didn’t buy paint, but pre-cut out decorations, I knew at that moment that tonight could either be amazing or an epic fail.UntitledUntitled

So it was sorta kinda a win. Mark had wanted to carve, Chloe wanted to paint, I made no one happy BUT either of them got what they wanted, so the other one couldn’t be jealous! I am the only one that sees the brilliance in that? Muahahahaha <– Mad scientist laugh!

Oh, and I pretty much made the dinosaur, and Chloe did most of her spider! The favorite part of the night for the kids was putting on the felt pieces to our skeleton! Totally worth the $10 at Target.

UntitledUntitledWe are now decorated for Halloween (well somewhat). The kids are happy as clams, and I am content and totally digging these skeleton lights! Plus topping off the night with a bowl of popcorn and the movie Casper equals the PERFECT October day 🙂

I have school photos to prep for tomorrow…. Wish me luck, because when I was growing up Picture Day was ALWAYS a nightmare.

P.S Hey Babe! Thanks for reading! We miss you!

Thee Most Handsome Man


Did your heart just melt looking at those photos? Isn’t he so handsome? Am I being a gushing parent? YES! YES! YES!

How was I able to take such cute shots of him? Well this cool kid fell off the stool while coloring (grabbing my attention). Which scared the crap out of me, my reaction was to scream at him, “MARK! WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?”, he seemed fine, though it sounded as though he could have broke some bones. In response he looked up at me and said “Hey mom, wanna take a photo of me?”. “Um, yes?”.


He then hopped over like a frog (??), and got into this pose. At this time, I am confused. “Babe, you want me to take a picture with you like that?”, he moved his hand from his face, “yep”.

I felt as though I caught a glimpse of a future Mark. He was so serious for these little photos. I couldn’t help but look at him and think of how handsome he is. It was a matter of 30 seconds, but he just left me feeling, I am not sure, but I love that little man.

UntitledI am sorry my mister, but I am pretty sure you will go through an ugly stage.
Mark was the cutest baby, like model cute, all the Japanese girls would surround me on the train just to touch his cheeks and hair. Flipping adorable. So I feel as though cute babies, and cute adults, at one point pay their dues and get hit by an ugly stick for a short time.

He just walked up to me, grabbed my face and kissed my forehead. What is up with this kid?