I B.S.

Literally, IBS. Its one of the most wonderful presents that either results from my shitty (no pun intended) gallbladder issues, or from my fibromyalgia. Supposedly, doc says its from fibro. I had no freaking idea or clue that your stomach could be affected by some strange invisible illness that makes you feel like you have the flu x 1000. For me, that’s one of my new perks. That any little thing could literally make me shit myself. I find it super challenging when I’m out or at work because quite frankly, I have a bathroom phobia. I hate public bathrooms, I feel like I need to douse in bleach and anti-septics just from walking in there. For me, I also have the I can’t take a shit when other people are around syndrome. So sometimes, I literally have to walk into the potty and walk myself out so that I can later come back and use it in peace.

I know that everyone uses the potty, but sometimes, I sound like a damn whoopee cushion sounding off because my stomach is just uncontrollable. I hate being that person, you know the one that blew up the potty but I can’t help it. At least I have the decency when I don’t have my poopouri to use and dash so that you don’t know whose assaulted your olfactory senses. To anyone out there dealing with IBS or fibro causing IBS. You’re not alone.

 

 

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Self What?

This morning my daughters father brought up the unfortunate and untimely death of Kate Spade. First of all you don’t know anyone’s life. Depression is not a joke. I’ve spoken before about the barreling dark hole I found myself in at one point of my life. That was actually scary looking back. However, no matter how depressed I’ve been or the suicidal ideations that I have tangled with, for me personally I know that taking my own life just isn’t something I would do. Its not an option. 

The point of this discussion is that he was like “How could someone with billions an apartment over Park Avenue a husband and a child kill themselves?” My response was you have no idea what she felt. Having all of that maybe wasn’t personal satisfaction. Maybe she felt like she had lost her own identity. This assumption that having it all money and family = happiness enraged me. To some people that’s bliss. For other women maybe they want more career or to invest their ideas etc in building something. Satisfaction of your life and overall happiness isn’t defined. So you can’t say but she had a husband and a child and assume that was fulfilling (no offense) or the secret to eternal bliss. 

So I tried to explain from a personal perspective that no offense to my daughter I love her dearly but she doesn’t define me. It’s one role of many. I’m a person with my own wants and needs and that’s okay. He calls it selfish. Almost like my own identity should just die because I’m a mother. That’s a problem and I told him as much. A patriarchal issue that women can’t have it all, while a man has a thriving career a family without ever feeling the effects of any of it. While women run the gambit to try to juggle an entire life of career, family and maintain elements of a self. I’m by no means saying that I know what happened, but what I am saying is that it’s not only a mental health issue depression, etc but also that as a society we need to stop trying to neatly package where and how everyone should be happy with these fictitious and bullshit roles and ideas that parenting and family life is the most fulfilling role of your life. That these are the things that should make you happy and anything that deviates from this is just a waste or a loss. 

There’s a quote that I read from a few years back that made me reflect on all of this: “Spade said balancing her family life with her new business was hectic. “Being a mother adds an enormous amount of stress to your life. You need to make sure you’re there for everything,” she told The Cut. “We don’t have other people to do it for us — I want to make sure I’m there. When you’re trying to be a parent and a businessperson at the same time, that is the most stressful thing you could do.”

If you know someone who is depressed or if you are suffering from depression, you are not alone. There is help. It is okay to talk to someone and to need a little help to get out of the darkness into the light…

 

The Problem with “Great Schools”

IntegratedSchools.org

by Ali McKay

If you have young kids or use Redfin, you’ve probably seen the school ratings from GreatSchools. Our school is rated a “4”. That’s out of 10. When I was in school, forty percent is not a grade that I or my parents would have been happy with. In fact, there would have been a fair amount of freaking out about a 4 out of 10. And yet, my children, and all of the other 330 kids in that school, are learning, having fun, and occasionally misbehaving or letting off steam. They are being kids. The more I think about it, the more I wonder how a building full of people – actual kids, teachers, parents, staff – can be described by one number.

I am very happy with our school, even though it has some pretty significant challenges. It isn’t a “4” to me, or to…

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Gifted..

After my daughter passed her gifted and talented exam, a big feat since I didn’t have her practice just skim the test, we had a decision to make. Her acceptance letter arrived and we got our second choice school. It’s an amazing school by all fronts. Music, Band, Art, STEM, Chess Club. They actually have a designing room for architectural building. What made my heart feel so heavy it could break? It was the realization that many students in NY won’t be privy to those same luxuries. That schools that don’t offer gifted and talented and other enrichment programs won’t give these same opportunities to other students that may have the talent and skills to keep up but are not allotted those same opportunities. Especially marginalized poor children in districts where education is already trash. Where teachers could care less and where they lack the institutional support as well as the resources to prepare students properly. Where students are much like an inmate another number, just pass them on. Let them deal with life on their own without the adequate tools to compete.

It was the realization that although my daughter’s current school isn’t bad, it wasn’t great either. That she would miss out on things that other children don’t go without and this holds especially true for children of color that live in u

Reality check 1…2..1…2..

There is always a turning point when you try on clothes and you ask yourselves what the fuck happened? A couple of months back maybe even a blog or two back I described how I managed to almost kill myself in a dressing room trying on a jumper I couldn’t get out of. Well the other day I decided I wanted to try an outfit from thot.com okay maybe its not thot.com but some of the clothes look like thotty wear. I ordered a romper from fashion nova. I thought to myself its a romper, likely stretchy looked loose in the picture leggo.

I wish I had not leggo. When it arrived I was ecstatic at what I thought would be my new hot outfit. That it was not. My boobs were flying out all over the place, it was just not a good look. So now, I’m like this is why bitches go bulimic. It was just crazy. I go to New York and Company, Ann Taylor Limited, Express and I feel good about what I buy. This was not that at all. This was personality shattering, alter ego creating mind fucking is what this was. I don’t know if I can say I looked like an exploding can of Pillsbury dough or what but I can tell you.. that’s the last outfit for me from thotty.com.

 

Why..

People often talk trash about people that say that they think that being cold or being an asshole is something to be proud of. For me, I’m not proud but its a part of who I am lets be honest. This is Honest Tea right? Well, life makes or breaks people. Some people are broken down and beaten down from life. I have hardened unbelievably during the course of the past few years. Part of it is my living in New York. New York is the school of all schools. If you’re going to learn what you’re made of, this is your place. You’re either going to break down and try crack or you’re going to kick ass and lose any sense of humanity left in you potentially. Okay both extremes, but nevertheless, the vicious and cut throat environment will leave much to be desired and you’re either going to handle it or go crying to mommy. For me, it wasn’t jarring so much as it has become almost survival of the fittest. Whose going down, me or you? Its not me thats for damn sure. I’ll make you cry first thats a promise.

I can reflect back on my life and pick out flags of behavior that were always sort of off. A coldness that just became gradually worst with every loss with every defeat and with every challenge. What I am trying to understand is why those that are left in my coldness are often without or even realizing that they are trying to get into the fold. Why if someone despises you so much and doesn’t hide it do you want to try to get in with them? Its a bit masochistic isn’t it? I know someone like this. She tries in her own ways to get in with me. I don’t acknowledge her presence much less pretend. Despise is wrong, I’ve said I hate her but maybe its just strong dislike, disdain?  Yet, she’ll try to toss me a compliment thinking it will get me to open up? Perhaps stroke my ego gain acceptance? Its other little things and other words too and sometimes it blows my mind. If someone acted like a dick and clearly didn’t like me, I’d tell you to fuck yourself and your entire lineage down your grandkids. Maybe some people are gluttons for punishment and maybe, just maybe I’m a bit sadistic I guess because I clearly see the game and yet, I don’t give a shit.

The vice…

You might think that I’m talking about an actual vice. Well folks, I’m not. What I am talking about is the scariest moment of my life trying on a jumper at New York & Company and becoming entrapped in the jumper. The funny thing is, I knew. The moment I was jumping into the damn thing, I was like hmm.. maybe an extra large? Not a lot of flexibility.. but yet I trapped myself in the damn thing. For a minute, I broke into a sweat wondering if I was going to have to call 911 to have the jaws of life extricate me out of the jumper, or if I was going to have to rip out of it..

It was frightening. Somehow, I managed to contort my arms all around the world and I freed one arm, then the other arm.. Lesson of the day is, if you think it doesn’t have a lot of give, don’t try to shove yourself in there anyway. Simply walk away.. Just walk the fuck away..