Molluscum Contagiosum

Kids, unknowingly, put us through so much. I'm lucky. My little ones rarely get sick. They generally use their manners. Neither are concernedly shy. I love watching them grow up together. Both of my kids are certainly not perfect but I do know they could be a heck of a lot worse.

I just finished helping Ryder and Arabella shower off the horrible blisters they have as a result of a visit to our dermatologist. We had no other options. In the last couple years I have been dealing with this problem, I have only met two other mothers who knew what this skin condition was. TWO. So this post is for you. 

If your little ones are going through this I want you to know that: 

1. I know what it is, you're not alone. 

2. I know it's not any one's fault your child has this.

3. I know your child isn't "dirty". I know your house, your car, your existence, is not "dirty". 

And 4. You're a great parent.

Almost two years ago, right after Ryder's four year immunizations, he developed this tiny bump on his right hand. It looked like a skin tag. The dermatologist told us not to worry, it's call "Molluscum Contagiosum" (MC), it's incredibly common in preschool aged children and would certainly go away on it's own. 

Great! Now we knew what it was, no big deal, don't worry about it, if it swells make sure to put a band aid on it until it disappears. 

Except....his didn't disappear. He got another bump on his side, near his ribs. We went back to the dermatologist and were prescribed Imiquimod cream. It was supposed to help his immune system target these annoying little bumps and make them go away.

Except, it didn't work. He got more bumps on his ribs and stomach. Back to the dermatologist we went and this time we were given Tretinoin cream. It started to work, one of the bumps swelled, I put a band aid on it and in a few days it was gone. This was such a relief. Honestly, Summer was approaching and MC is not a pretty sight. I felt like I had failed him somehow. He was itchy. The Tretinoin started to bother him and he formed large raised patches of dermatitis and eczema around the affected areas. It was heartbreaking. 

I took him back to the dermatologist again and this time we had the MC burned off. Ryder was so brave. It went so well! The bumps swelled into blisters, scabbed over and within a few months he was cleared up. I cried a lot during this ordeal, but remained thankful Arabella didn't get it. He had some very mild discomfort, mostly itching. By August, it was over.

Fast forward to early November, Arabella had just received her four year immunizations and sure as sh*t, there it was: a bump on her left hand. Ryder developed a tiny one on his hip. 

They spread SO fast. She had them on her upper arm, a few on her stomach. He had a few on his elbow and two on his hip. I really didn't want both of them to have to go through the burning and blistering.

This time we tried apple cider vinegar. It made them itchy and flaky. They developed these awful red, angry looking patches of eczema. We tried oregano oil. That started to work but to no avail. I added more and more and more carrier oil. They developed the worst case of dermatitis I have ever seen.

I didn't want to take them back to the dermatologist. Seeing those tiny burns broke my heart in a way I'll never understand. But we had to. She tried freezing one on Ryder's elbow but he couldn't stand the feeling so back to burning we went. Arabella wanted the same thing her big brother was getting so she got hers burned too. 

He is fine, a little itchy but Arabella is stunned. She is so uncomfortable she won't get up and walk around. Getting her into the shower was traumatizing for us both.

I've been crying and wondering and searching for a cure for so long. Hopefully this is the end. It could be worse, so much worse. Hopefully in a few weeks they will only have tiny white marks where the MC used to be. In the meantime, I wanted to write this for everyone who has gone through this with their children; especially for those who have gone through it alone. 

When Life Feels Blocked Up

I'm not actually unhappy in this picture. I had been pushing two whiny kids around Central Park all day. We were waiting for the bus so naturally I started thinking about all the things I had to do once we were home.

This past weekend was "blocked up" for me. I began thinking too much about things I wanted to do and change. I added that to the list of things I had to do and my brain quickly came to a halt. To be honest, I don't take care of "me" enough either. I'm with my kids 24/7.

What a weird feeling. For me, it feels like my body NEEDS to be moving but I don't know to where or for what purpose. Straightening up small things like the kitchen table and wiping coffee stains off the counter become my habit.

My mother-in-law has dinner every Sunday for her family. This past weekend I finally decided to stay home and take care of "me" while Ryan and the kids were gone. But, I was stuck. I sat on the couch staring at the toys on the floor and the dust on the TV stand. I ran my hands through my hair that was still in need of some TLC. I thought of the charcoal mask on my shelf waiting to clean the pores on my face. Yet, no movement, no desire to do anything; no desire to sleep.

I lit a cilantro and lime candle in my extremely cluttered bedroom and cleared my thoughts. Heal me. I sat with my eyes closed until I felt what was bothering me the most. It was kind of silly but it was my closet, of all things.

I drug myself to the studio and applied a toner to my hair and a charcoal mask to my face. I grabbed two large garbage bags and emptied the closet of clothes that will never fit me again, shoes that I haven't worn in years, hats, scarves and other miscellaneous crap. I moved the unclaimed craft items to their designated shelf in my craft closet along with large amounts of newly purchased yarn and wine glasses destined for cute works of vinyl to be applied to them.

The "blockage" disappeared and I had a very productive Monday.

I guess it's worth sitting down and admitting to yourself what's REALLY bothering you. It's worth admitting that we don't take care of ourselves enough. It's worth clearing your head for a few minutes and taking care of the things we have deemed "to-do.....later".

Thanks for reading. Hope you're healing too. :0)

My Perfect (Facebook) Life

Perfect

The urge to be perfect creeps up on me. It is a constant in my life. Most people could venture a correct guess at the cause of it's being. 

It's been over two years since I have written on my blog and I still have a lot to learn. Life happened so fast. In my fool headed (but unintentional) quest for perfection I'd like to write about what I have been able to improve about myself while offering some insight to my world off of social media.

It was very hard, but I beat my battle with depression....again. My depression is circumstantial. As I allowed myself to grow, the people who were meant to be in my life stayed and those who weren't, left. It was a breath of fresh air for me.

I am showing more gratitude for my loved ones. I'll never understand why this was an issue. How could I allow myself to take people for granted? I am still practicing this as I learn the different ways others feel love.

The "thrill" of gossip no longer excites me. As one accrues skeletons in their own closet you begin to grow empathetic of what others have weighing on their souls. It's not interesting anymore. It's a fact of life, everyone has problems. Sometimes I hear stories told to very few people. I find peace in locking those words you have so bravely told me deep in my heart, never to be spoken of again.

I finally have a system to keep up with the *&^%ing laundry.

I gained 35 pounds and I'm okay with it. Do I encourage others to do it? No. Am I trying to lose it? Yep. For so long I felt "valued" because of my jean size. I started stress eating when the salon wasn't getting done, my babies grew into kiddies, my husband worked 60-80 hours a week and I kept forcing myself to do things I didn't want to do. It was time to learn what I liked about me! 

I love you Taco Bell but you are a baaaaad boyfriend.

My shoulder...how does someone even begin to cope with that kind of injury and the events surrounding it? You find help, suck it up, and put down the bottle of wine. The fact is I drank too much. I didn't drink and drive or become belligerent in front of my children. The time came to put it down and BE the example I wanted to set for my kids. I wanted to show them proper coping skills. I wanted to show them how to have a good time without alcohol. There's a pretty silver scar on my shoulder to remind me I don't need (or want) to artificially escape my own thoughts ever again.

I read more, soooo much more. Now that's an escape I can get used to.

I have gained independence. From the purchase of my own embroidery machine to opening my own business, I feel more secure. I'm so thankful for my MIL, she let me keep her embroidery and vinyl machines at my house so I had something to do while my shoulder healed. It feels good to be trusted with things like that. Ryan was (and still is essentially) paying for everything. Any money I make goes toward the fat (but interest free!) balance on my credit card we used to build the salon. Making money feels good.

I understand how our government works. It's embarrassing how little I knew. 

I stopped putting my husband before myself all the time. He never asked me to do it. He encourages me to do things for myself. I stopped FORCING myself on him. I let the feelings between us flow naturally now. I tell him exactly what I think.


Facebook helps me organize the good things. Most people with "perfect" lives don't post their stuff for me or you. They post it for themselves; it's like this little reminder of the things going right in life we all need to see to keep pushing forward.

Once again I am resolving to stop it with the perfect crap. I'm not going to lay on my death bed thankful I washed my floors every Monday. When my time comes I simply want to smile and say, "thank you."

Thanks for reading!

Feel free to comment below. 

The Day of No Toys

The Day of No Toys

One day not too long ago, this Mommy totally lost her sh*t and removed every toy from the main floor of the house into the basement. I left a few books and blocks out with them to play.

I bet you know where I'm going with this. It was magical. It was like I lifted a huge vail off of my kids. They read stories together, watched a little television together, and played outside together. This was also the same day I let them see me cry for the first time. It still amazes me how concerned they were. 

Anyway, like a virus, the toys slowly crept their way back upstairs and in to our living spaces. Today has been a very trying day. I can't figure out why my kids are acting out the way they are. I gave them a second chance to correct their behavior and it didn't go well. I don't ask much from them at all. I ask that they help me make this house safe, happy, and healthy. Apparently they didn't feel like doing any of that today. 

So.....BACK downstairs the toys, books and stuffed animals went. 

Next, they decided to start playing rough with each other. I encourage a little rough housing, it's good for them. At some point it started to feel like they were intentionally trying to tick me off. I didn't know what else to do! While I sat thinking of what could be going through their little heads I started crying. Just like the last time they became concerned. They asked a lot of questions about what I was feeling. 

Now that they're napping it's truly dawning on me exactly what kids need. I've read it a thousand times before. They need love and respect. I showed them nothing but love and in my weak moments they showed it back. "Things" have only ever brought out the worst in my kids. "Presents" and "surprises" have encouraged their materialistic side. This has been my personal experience with my kids. I understand other peoples' children are not like that and I am definitely not one to judge another parent. We're all crazy and I'm glad I'm not alone. 

I am seriously considering giving them all of their books back and only allowing them one toy each per day. 

Has anyone else ever done "toy free"?

What was your experience like?

I Let My Children See Me Cry

  For  very long time I understood that in order to appear strong, you shouldn't cry in front of others. This made a lot of sense until I had children. We live in a very sensitive-insensitive world. So many people seem to become offended so easily. Topics ranging from sexism to whether you eat gluten free or not are very sensitive to many people and rightfully so. People deserve to feel how they feel.

However, when someone is crying for help either literally, or by posting the occasional passive aggressive post on Facebook, the majority of people tend to turn a blind eye. I don't think that's right. 

One day while I was making my children lunch it hit me. It was 12:00, I was still in my pajamas. I was giving the kids Ramen noodles. Like a snowball effect one worrisome thought came after the next, "Do we have enough money to get the salon going? Why is it taking so long? Am I REALLY ready for this? Am I really a talented stylist? We still have to move the washer. Ugh, I didn't fold the laundry in 2 weeks. I should change my clothes. I know they like Ramen noodles but it's not good for them! Do I play with the kids enough? Maybe I should get them in a playgroup. I'm very introverted, I don't really enjoy the process of meeting new people." etc etc etc......

I couldn't stop it! The tears just started rolling and wow did they flow. Pent up anxiety much? Ryder and Ara saw me sitting there in a heap and immediately came over and sat down next to me. Ara asked me not to cry. Ryder held my face and asked me lots of questions. They really cared that I was upset. It felt so good to see the look of concern on their little faces. I realized they need to see emotions like this spill out. They need this to make them kind, caring, empathetic human beings! 

Mama can show her babies it's okay to be strong; it's okay to be weak. No one should ever have to hide how they are feeling for fear of what others might think of them.  

  

Mommy Almost Ruined Christmas

Yep. That's our Santa picture this season. In the years to come, hopefully my children will find it funny. Hopefully. 

My children are 2 and 3 years old. My 3 year old has entered a new stage in his life that entails torturing the very soul of my mental capacity. The trouble that child can get into in the time it takes me to switch the laundry or use the bathroom is impressive. This month alone he has poured a 5 pound bag of sugar onto my kitchen floor, dumped water on it, and left his sister there to start licking it. He poured out a bag of rice onto the kitchen floor and stomped all over it. He started screaming "no" at my husband and I on an HOURLY basis. He won't eat his dinner. One hour of t.v. time isn't enough. One cookie isn't enough. The tantrums bring me to my knees. 

At the end of the day he always tells me, "I love you, sweet dreams, see you in the morning. You wake me up." He curls up under his dinosaur comforter, baby elephant tucked under his arm, smiles at me and falls asleep. 

Anyway, I almost ruined Christmas for these kids. I was expecting to decorate our Christmas tree, bake cookies, build a gingerbread house, drive around to see lights, watch Santa come on the train, take card-worthy pictures, giggle while we look for their elves in the morning, go to church and fill their hearts to the brim with magic. 

This is not how it is happening. Christmas trees do not get put up fast enough. Gingerbread houses don't dry quickly enough. Cookies don't bake in 3 seconds. Lights are soooo cool. The elves were boring after day 3. God is a difficult concept for them. There hasn't been one picture yet where one of them isn't crying. 

I dropped the bomb after tantrum #12 involved Seymour and Lucy (the elves) getting punched into the toilet. "You know what? Santa's not coming." is what I said to my 2 and 3 year old. My son overheard me telling my husband they were ruining Christmas earlier that same day. Wow, I suck. I just put 2 elves in a coffin. A coffin! I've had a yucky year and I'm feeling bad about myself but there is NO reason to say things like that to little children. 

Tonight my son asked my husband if he was ruining Christmas. I crumbled into a million pieces. He heard me say those awful things! No wonder he's acting out. I took a deep breath, went into his bedroom, picked him up and told him MOMMY was ruining Christmas. He asked me in that adorable 3 year old voice if Santa was still going to bring him presents. I looked him in the eyes and told him that he has the biggest, nicest heart I have ever known and Santa would bring him wonderful presents. He smiled so big I thought his cheeks would explode. 

After that, the fight to get him to go to bed stopped. The yelling stopped. I caught myself just in time to turn this season around. In order to enjoy Christmas with 2 little kids you have to lower your expectations. Christmas is hard to understand at first. I'm admitting my terrible mistake for the other mommys out there feeling frustrated. You're not alone. 

Christmas is a time for love! If my kids want to put all the ornaments on one branch, they can. If they want to touch Seymour and Lucy, go for it. I'll give them a wink if they sneak a cookie before dinner. I'll empty a whole tank of gas driving them around to see all the lights if I have to! I'll read them the Christmas story again and again. Go ahead, watch another episode of that silly lizard cartoon. Just please have an amazing Christmas. Mommy is so sorry.

I Took The Easy Way Out: Becoming a Cosmetologist.

It was Winter of 2005 when I got my GPA from Keystone College. 

1.7

Ouch.

What happened to me? I was an honor student in high school, a member of the Spanish and Latin clubs. I was the unofficial president of SADD. I was so excited for college. Keystone was beautiful. They had so many outdoor trails, great food, cute dorm rooms and nice students. 

I got wonderful remarks from my English professor about a creative writing paper I did. I studied SO hard for my first Chemistry exam and ended up with an 85. 

One day I just stopped going to class. 

I called my mom and we went for coffee at the local diner. I dropped a bomb on her that day. I wanted to move home, work for a year and go to school to be a Cosmetologist. She was shocked but hesitantly supportive. 

Shortly after that decision I lost someone very important to me at the time. It was extremely difficult and I wasn't sure I was in a good place to make any drastic decisions. I wondered that entire summer if I was doing the right thing. It was still the best summer of my life. I was gorgeous and I knew it. I partied at my friends' college apartments and dated whoever I wanted. It was the first time I felt free and it was a wonderful time in my life.

I felt as if I was taking the "easy" way out by going to cosmetology school. Everyone was in college on their way to "real" careers. My last party ended when a "friend" told me I didn't have anything to worry about, it wasn't like I was going to a REAL school. 

Bye Felicia.

Beauty school is really fucking hard. 

It involves biology, chemistry and geometry. It involves learning the rules just so you can later break them. It involves sales. It involves an artist's precise hand. It involves making people feel beautiful in a world where virtually no one feels good about themselves. It involves rejection, triumph and a small dose of drama here and there.

The weird thing was: I loved it. It was easy to me BECAUSE I loved it. 

And isn't that how choosing a career SHOULD be?

I felt guilty for feeling like life was easy! A career is supposed to be hard and draining. Right? Ha...no. 

So I am sitting here as living proof that if you listen to yourself, do what your gut tells you and take advice from the people that matter, you will come out on top. 

Oh and a good mentor helps. 

Thanks Gina, April and Diane. 

I hope I can help others out one day the way you have helped me.