A Single Mom Milestone

So, after five long years, I made my last car payment this morning.  It may not seem like a big deal to many, but for me it’s a considerable occasion.

In my 29 years of driving, I’ve bought several cars, but I’ve never paid one off.  You see, I am a self-proclaimed “car junkie”.  I generally get the “car bug” and end up trading in my current ride for something cooler.

This event is also special to me because during my marriage I went out and bought this car on my own (without his approval first). I brought it into my new life and one income household.  We survived the five months I was without a job.  There were some close calls where I thought i was going to lose it, but by picking up odd jobs and keeping in close communication with Wells Fargo, we made it through. Thankfully.

Now that it’s paid off, here are some things I need to do~

1.) Celebrate! Besides announcing it on social media, I also sent a text to a few close friends.  I’ve asked one of my girlfriends to meet me for a quick beer after work. The office car wash guy comes tomorrow and I can’t wait to have her all detailed and maybe even snap a photo.

We tend to get so wrapped up in our day that we forget to celebrate the minor things in life.

2.) Make a plan of what to do with that extra money each month.  I have already decided 1/3 will go into savings, 1/3 will go towards paying off old debt and the remainder will be used for “stuff”.

3.) Make notes to follow up with the lien holder in regards to the pink slip.  Once received, I will store somewhere secure.

4.)  Call my insurance company to see if I can lower my coverage.   I also plan on obtaining quotes from other companies.

If you have any other tips, please share!







Feeling Groovy!


Today I am excited about everything!

I am still reeling from yesterday!  My first-born graduated with a double Associates Degree from our local college and will head to Art School in the fall.  The weekend is here and I am elated about the following:

  • A quiet Friday night with my guy and tomorrow our trip to The Reagan Library.  It is very close to where we live and surprisingly, I have never been.
  • Sunday, I am going to see The Cure at the Hollywood Bowl with one of my best girlfriends. We have a room within walking distance and I am looking forward to lounging poolside beforehand.
  • My second personal essay was published (and I had no idea)! Kudos to my ex-husband for notifying me.  Since it was about him, I am happy he liked it!  If you want to check it out, its on xojane.

Happy Weekend!

My Heroine. My Heart. My Hanah.

My firstborn turns 22 today.  I was only a few months older than she when I endured  24 hours (cue: mom guilt) of labor bringing her into this world.  I did everything in my power to have her before midnight, as I could not imagine the teasing she would endure had she been born on April 1st.  Thankfully, she arrived just after 10 p.m that night.

I know it is a cliché, but it is true – the moment our eyes locked  – I was forever changed. She would go on to teach me patience.  She helped me grow up and become selfless.  She taught me a love I never knew existed.

The years passed and my little “Monchichi”, as we called her turned into a little princess. A girly girl with large doe-like eyes the color of chocolate and just as inviting.  Her long wavy hair was fun for me to play with and I spent hours dressing and painting her fingers and toes.  She was my own living doll.  She was an amiable, yet a spunky child.

As Hanah grew up, and our family dynamic changed, she remained the epitome of a gracious, young lady.  Being a caretaker to her siblings came naturally to her and it was evident she was wise beyond her years.  The older she got the more I found myself asking  her view on things.  She had no problem sharing with me the way she saw our world and again, Hanah was my teacher.

At 22, she not only works two jobs but has two degrees.  She continues to grow and learn and also teach others.  If you’ve had the chance to meet her, you know the moment she smiles,  you catch a glimpse of her golden heart.

Some say she is my mini-me, but I could never reduce her to such.  She is my heroine.   She is strong and smart and beautiful and every kind of amazing.

And I am lucky enough to be able to love her to the moon and back!

Happy Birthday, Sissy!!!

Assembling My Tribe

March’s Full Moon was termed The Worm Moon by Native Americans because with the warm weather came the appearance of worm casings above the softening ground.

On a balmy evening, the night of March 23rd nearly 40 women from all over Ventura County gathered under a starlit sky for another Women’s Full Moon Hike.

The feedback I received from last month’s was the perfect blend of positive and motivational-exactly what I needed.  In lieu of feeling anxious, like I did in my post here, this time I felt empowered.  This month, I felt a little more  Gandalf -like, leading the women up the hillsides of Ventura.

March’s group was twice as large as our group in February.  I saw several familiar faces and even more new ones.  This time some of the ladies came early to picnic.  We had another adventure trying to locate the elusive moon but cheered in unison as it made it’s appearance just as we were leaving.  I was overwhelmed with euphoria the entire night.

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Studies show spending time with friends has a larger impact on our physical and emotional well-being than spending time with family.

When I was married to husband #1 (at the ripe old age of 22), I didn’t take much time out for me – let alone my friends.  I completely threw myself into the role of wife and mother for eight years.  I naively thought I didn’t need anyone else in my life, but my little family.  In retrospect, there are memories of feeling isolated and even a bit depressed.  If I could share some words of wisdom to 20-something year old me, it would be to maintain some level of independence and connect with other mothers, wives, sisters on a regular basis.

I believe when women continue to come together in a safe place – an immeasurable bond is created.  A sisterhood.  The benefits of female friendship are endless.

I am proud to say, I have found my safe haven, under the moon and within my tribe of these magnificent women that gather with me.

Our next hike is Friday, April 22.



DON’T SWEAT the small stuff

Last week, I read this blog post about childhood worries.  Afterward, I couldn’t help but reflect on my own adolescent anguishes.  Some of them were inspired by bad 80’s television, others by playground chatter, and the rest were made-up scenarios in my head.

I was one of those kids who spent more time worrying than playing.  I worried about things that had already happened (my mom forgetting to pick me up after school), things that could happen (nuclear war) and things that were more than likely never going to happen (stumbling into a pit of quicksand).

At the age of ten, I watched a Made for TV movie about breast cancer.  Coincidentally, I had been experiencing some pain and swelling in my chest.  With that said, I convinced myself, like the protagonist, that I, too was suffering from breast cancer.

I worried for weeks.  I couldn’t sleep, I cried off and on, but was too embarrassed/scared to go to anyone with my concerns.  Finally, one afternoon my mother caught me crying.  In between sobs, I broke the news to her that I probably wouldn’t be making it to my 11th birthday.  She explained (albeit giggles), I was going to be fine and that the “symptoms” I had experienced were simply signs, that it was time for a training bra (Ugh!  If only I had read Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret one year earlier).

After recalling that lovely childhood memory, I couldn’t help but wonder how my own children dealt with worry.  I reminded myself to give them each some guidance on the issue.  I had come a long way from the Worry Wort I once had been.  Perhaps by sharing this with the kids, it would save them from some of the pangs I endured in my youth.

And just like that – It was if the Parental Gods had read my mind! The following morning, R and I were getting in the car when he gently shoved his iPad in my hand.  He looked up at me, his brown eyes searching my face for a reaction.   I was shocked to see a huge crack across the screen.  “Oh, buddy! What happened?!” I asked, admittedly in more of a Peg Bundy than Carol Brady “concerned mom” voice.  Before he could muster an explanation, I took a few deep breaths and told him it didn’t matter and it could be fixed.

But he was unusually  quiet on the ride to school.  I asked him if he was worried about the iPad.  He nodded his head in agreement and told me he was really worried about his dad’s reaction.  I reassured him again that the iPad was fixable.  I took it a bit further and shared my recently-found philosophy.

“I try not to worry.  But it does take a lot of effort on my part.  I remind myself that the only things in life worth worrying about are those things that we have no control over-like the health and safety of our loved ones.  As long as my friends and family are healthy, all is good in my world.”

R seemed to be listening attentively.  But who knows if he actually “got” the point I was trying to make.  I am confident, he will see my example and learn from it.

With that being said, I am a work in progress.  Once in awhile, I slip back into old habits.  To remedy those moments, I find connecting with a good friend and also some deep breathing/meditation exercises do wonders for putting things back into perspective.

How do you manage stress?


The February Experiment

img_5914-1    The month of February was called Februarius during Roman times.  Februarius was derived from the Latin term Februum, meaning purification.  The Romans held a purification ritual the day of the full moon in Februarius.  I found this intriguing because in February I am going through a purification of sorts.

But for a better word choice, let’s call it an experiment.  I got to thinking, what would happen if I removed drinking and online dating from my life for the entire month (hey, it is Leap Year) of February.

What will happen if I stop drinking for 29 days?

I will probably save money and have 29 hangover-free days.  (insert 2 thumbs up emojis here).

What about if I delete my online dating accounts for 29 days?

I will have a lot more time and energy, fewer distractions, and maybe even more data rollover at the end of the month. (insert Big Smiley emoji here).

Over the last three years that I have been single, the majority of my recreational time has been spent either meeting friends for happy hour, going to concerts or online dating.   I can pretty much guarantee that had you seen me out at any of these events, I would have had a drink in hand.

So, I made a list of the pros and cons of consuming alcohol and as you can probably guess, the cons far outweigh the pros.  Drinking brings absolutely nothing positive to my life.  So why do I do it?  Why do I spend the money?  Why poison my mind and body?  I hope after this “experiment”, I can provide myself some real answers.

As far as dating goes – basically I am exhausted!  Online dating could easily be a full-time job and if it were legal here in California, perhaps I would get into it (kidding).  But seriously, to put it simply,  my heart is in need of a sabbatical.

I have a tribe of friends supporting me by keeping me busy with things such as hiking, yoga, good food and meaningful conversation.  Plus, I am spending a lot of time alone and I am really enjoying my own company.  With that said, cheers to a new experience and the many changes ahead.  Who knows, maybe I will make this a ritual of my own…

Stay tuned.




Don’t Judge.

In December of 2013, I suddenly found myself homeless and jobless.  I had never been let go from a job before nor evicted, and to have them happen within days of each other was overwhelming, to say the least.  Thankfully, at the time,  I did have an amazing boyfriend.  He not only helped me financially get into a new place, but he physically moved my entire apartment by himself.

I applied for and was awarded unemployment which totaled about 50% of my normal monthly gross income. I spent my days job hunting, I registered with a top-notch employment agency and my ex-husband helped me out when he could. I took odd jobs; writing content for a website and tending bar at catering events.  But every week that passed, I fell further and further behind.  I had three children at home and needed to take care of my shit. And fast.

So, early one morning I decided to check my ego at the door of our local Health and Human Services office and slithered quietly inside to apply for Food Stamps aka Cal Fresh benefits.

When I say I left my ego at the door, I didn’t entirely leave it there.  I know this because during the 5 hours I spent in the office, I was coiled up in a hard chair and refrained from making eye contact with anyone.

My application was approved by a pleasant man named Alberto, who was my case worker. I refrained from bursting into tears of relief and giving him a hug of gratitude, as he handed me my EBT card.  It looked like a debit/credit card and therefore, payment would be discreet.    As you can imagine, this was a godsend for me and my ego.  Still, I cringed each and every time I had to pull the card from my wallet.  I could feel the checker, the bagger and the shoppers behind me in line peering down their noses at me in judgement.

Case in point, one day, while perusing social media, I ended up on a random person’s Facebook page (I’m not so sure I should be admitting this publicly, but we all do it? No?).

This woman, who I will respectfully refer to as “FB Rant Lady” was perched high atop her virtual soap box.  Apparently, she had just come from the grocery store and she was pissed and she wanted everybody to know why.  Here is her story as I remember reading it:

“FB Rant Lady” had been in line at the grocery store behind a woman and was admiring the woman’s designer handbag.  As the woman (let’s call her Designer Handbag Lady) paid for her groceries, “FB Rant Lady” (who evidently has the vision of Superman) noticed “Designer Handbag Lady” was paying with an EBT card.  “FB Rant Lady” couldn’t believe the gall “Designer Handbag Lady” had to own a purse that cost several hundred dollars all the while “paying” for her groceries with the state’s aka “our” money.

For 6 months, I carried my EBT card in my Coach wallet which was in turn carried in one of my Coach bags.  It had never occurred to me society expected me to pack my “nicer” things away, right along with my dignity, the second I applied for assistance.  I had already lost my apartment, my job and my pride; could I not continue to clutch something nice from my previous, more comfortable life?  It takes a lot to ask for help and when others think they know our story, it makes these tough times in life a little harder to navigate.

The last time I used my EBT card was a momentous one, to say the least.  I waited in line at Vons, and the elderly woman ahead reminded me of my mother, with her frail-like movements and permed, chestnut hair.  She only had a few items and as she shakily reached for her wallet (don’t ask me what brand it was), I beat her to it and paid for her groceries.  I had just been lent a helping hand of sorts, and now it was my turn to do something helpful.

Sometimes in life we need help. We need to separate from our ego and just ask.  I will forever be thankful for the support I received from our state and my friends and family during that bleak chapter in my life.





Dog-Walker Guy

Walking our dogs on the beach was your idea.

After all….

We lived in the same coastal town.

We both owned dogs.

I attempted to sound enthused with your suggestion; picturing myself gracefully dodging waves, laughing at your jokes, my hair flowing in the ocean breeze… But…

Saturday morning was a blustery one.  I had to forgo lip gloss due to the high winds and should have pulled my hair into a ponytail (but I had that damn vision, as mentioned above).

Lila, (who was clearly more excited about this date than I was) and I arrived at the beach.   You were cute, but your black and white Australian Shepherd, Scout was abso-frekin-lutely  adorable! And every passer-by had to stop and tell you so.  You seemed to eat up the attention as eagerly as Scout.

You pulled a cellophane bag tied with a pink ribbon, out of the pocket of your flannel.  You had brought Lila a bag of cookies.  Well, played dog walker guy.  Well, played.

She was completely disinterested when you tried to feed her one.

You seemed to take it personally.

We continued our trek through the sand.  Trying to converse between leashes entwining, the howling wind and our dogs stopping every 10 seconds to sniff and pee, made it very difficult to see if there was chemistry.

It was if, we both threw in the white flag simultaneously.  With our tails between our legs, we headed our separate ways.

Yes, I live near the beach and I own a dog.  But, I guess I should’ve mentioned I was more of a cat person.


Men Without Kids Vs. Dads

After my six-month relationship ended, I decided to reevaluate what I wanted in my next one.  K had never been married or had children and at first, I found that to be an added bonus to an already amazingly, sweet man.  Little did I know, it would hinder the growth, I wanted in our relationship.  A wise woman once shared this with me: Men without children do not know the depth of love, like those who do have them.  In other words, they do not know how to really put another person’s needs, feelings want before their own.  This doesn’t make them bad or selfish people.  Just different.

I met a nice guy a month or so ago.  He was my age, divorced, no children and had a successful career.  He drove up from South Bay on Saturday to take me to dinner.  The conversation flowed, as we sat eating in a brightly lit Thai restaurant.   Though, I didn’t feel that immediate connection, like  I had with others in the past, he was smart, funny and attentive.  In other words, I was open to a second date.  After dinner and a friendly hug goodbye, he asked to see me again.  Agreeing, I sent him back on the 101 and then a few days later, I sent him a thank you card.  I wanted to let him know I appreciated the time and effort he made to treat me like a lady.  It was comforting to see there were still true gentlemen out there, or so I thought…

He asked me out again, but because of our schedules, it took some time to set the second date.  With my son out of town the week of Thanksgiving for his football tournament, we made plans for that Friday.  I offered to go to him, obviously, since he had come up here the last time.

When I woke up Friday morning, I was looking forward to our date and getting out of Ventura for the day.  But after breakfast, I received a text from my ex.  He offered to split the cost of a rental car so I could surprise our son in Vegas.  I knew my date would be disappointed, but when I said goodbye to my son on Tuesday,  I had already disappointed him.

I called my date and began apologizing the second he picked up the phone.  His tone of voice was less than supportive of my sudden change of plans.  I began to explain what had just transpired with my ex,  I felt like I was having to justify(did I mention he was an Attorney?)  my trip to see my son.  Not once did he tell me “no worries” or “I understand”.  I asked if we could reschedule for the following weekend, but he was “booked”.  When I hung up, I genuinely felt bad.  But then images of my son’s smile quickly replaced any guilt I had for canceling a date.

Once I arrived to pick up my rental car, I received a text that went something like this:

Him: You’re probably going to hate me for this, but …That was a really lousy thing to do.  Thank God R wasn’t injured or some other kind of emergency.  He didn’t  need you there.  You decided you would just rather do that than go on our date.  I’m profoundly disappointed.


My Reply: My children will always come first.  Thank you (I really, really wanted to add  MUTHAFUCKKAAAA here, but I didn’t).

I never heard from, nor did I contact Mr. Almost Second Date again.  I really couldn’t wrap my head around his way of handling the situation and I suppose he felt the same way about me.  We are not only from different planets (i.e. Venus/Mars), but perhaps different lifetimes.  I feel I am light years ahead of him in this life.  After all, I have carried three lives in my womb, arms and heart for the past 21 years.  So, perhaps it is time to look solely for those who share the same life as me.  The one where we, as parents come second to everything and everyone else when it comes to our children.  And to that I will always say, “no worries!” and “I understand!”.

Stay tuned…



Holiday To-Do List

Happy first day of December!  If you are like me, and one of the few people in America, on the Late (Christmas) Train, December 1st is your cue to get your Holiday-Cheer on.

R is nearing double-digits, so I want to incorporate as much Christmas Magic into this season, as I can.  I decided to create a list of some of the things I plan on experiencing with my children and friends in hopes to make it memorable for us all.

1. Try a Vegan Peanut Butter Cookie recipe (perhaps this one).

2. Donate time/toys to a charity – We are wrapping presents for the Castro Family Toy Drive and have set-up a toy collection box at my office.

3. Distribute food – I have an annual tradition with the kids.  We purchase pre-made, hot items (either from the grocery store deli or a fast food chain) and hand out to the homeless on or around Christmas Day.

4. Review ABC Family’s 25 Days of Christmas  schedule and watch as many of those corny holiday shows as humanly possible.

5. Go see a movie in the theater with all three kids.  Suggestions?

6. Host a night in with the girls and serve ( these and one or two of these).

7. Plan a trip to a neighboring city and view the Christmas lights and decor.

8. Read holiday-themed books at bedtime with R.

9.  Plan a Mommy/Daughter Shopping trip With H at The Village in Woodland Hills.

10. Up my Elf on a Shelf game like my friend, Sarah.  Follow her on IG for some tips!