Category: Random Musings

getting over a wall

You know that feeling when you know you should do something and you want to do it but you haven’t done it in so long that you don’t even know where to start?

Yea, so that’s me in a nutshell when it comes to blogging lately.

And I don’t even really know what the purpose of this post is. All I know is that I need to write something just to get over that seemingly insurmountable wall that’s been growing due to my lack of writing this past month.

The thing is, I love blogging. The problem is, I worry too much that I might not be writing something useful, e.g., a product review or guide. And that I may appear self-absorbed when I write about the more mundane things in life.

But I forgot that the other half of my purpose for blogging is to document my life! It’s an outlet and a way for me to do something for me.

So I am going to try to commit to start writing more. Even if it seems relatively inconsequential. Because life is passing by way too quickly and I have not been writing about enough of it.

Being Mean

I want to preface this by saying that I know this is a phase and not a sociopathic defect. Max’s teachers at school tell me that he is one of the sweetest kids in class and will always help to take care of anyone who gets hurt.

But we’ve entered into a new territory of toddlerhood that I was not emotionally or mentally prepared for.

Being incredibly, incredibly mean.

Max has started saying intentionally mean and hurtful things. I feel like he is testing his boundaries and discovering the power of his words and actions.

For instance, Max has always been an amazing big brother to Alexa. But, recently, he is becoming more physical with her than ever before. He will push or kick her, causing her to lose her balance and hit her head on our floor.

When Alexa gets hurt and starts to cry, I can see the shock in Max’s eyes. And I know he’s upset that she’s actually hurt. But when I ask him why he did it, his response is usually, “I want her to get hurt. I want her to go to the doctor’s office.”

Also, Max will, very nonchalantly, tell me that he doesn’t love me. When I let him know how sad those words make me feel, he continues to repeat the same thing, almost as if he thinks it’s a game. But, finally, after I’ve sufficiently expressed how sad and hurt I am, Max will come to me and give me a very sweet and genuine hug. After our embrace, he will then look up at me and ask if that made me feel happy.

I know this as a period of experimentation – What can I say or do that will hurt people? What can I say or do to make people happy?

Unfortunately, Alexa and I are the guinea pigs in this situation and I can’t help but feel like we are sustaining emotional and physical abuse in the process.

Of course, I tell Max that I will always love him, no matter what he says to me. But I cannot wait until this phase is over and I don’t feel like my heart is constantly getting stabbed by a little toddler going on sixteen.


Hey kid, you’re really awesome. Now stop being so mean to your sister and me.

Appreciating Toddler Time

I pick Max up everyday from school. It takes me less than 15 minutes to get there but twice that to return home.

I cherish every second of it.

As an adult, we get so wrapped up in things to do and places to be. Toddlers are different. They don’t have things to do or places to be. They always live in the moment.

And during our commute home, I get to do just that. Live in the moment.

Max loves to point out everything he sees. The dialogue usually goes like this: “Look! Little anties. Mommy, I see plane! Look! I see flowers. I see more flowers! Look, there’s more flowers! I see pink flowers. I see purple flowers. Wow, so many flowers.”

And even though every ant, plane, or flower we see looks like the last ant, plane, or flower we saw, he is equally delighted to see it again and again.

That’s what I love most about our walks home. For a short while, I get to be on toddler time.

Where I am constantly reminded of the simplest joys in life.

Looking for insects

Looking for ants on the sidewalks of NYC

About Being a Blogger

I think it’s safe for me to call myself a blogger now. For whatever reason, it took me a while to accept this title.

Last month, I hit over 10,000 views in a month. That’s supposed to be some sort of big milestone for bloggers. It usually means you’ve “made it.”

I don’t know what I thought would happen when I started this blog a little over a year and a half ago. I know I envisioned an income-producing blog, for sure. It would be disingenuous to claim otherwise. But for it to actually come to fruition is a whole ‘nother matter.

Yet somehow, someway, it has.

However, as my blog and readership has grown, there have been some unanticipated consequences (some may argue, naively so). I have been approached by readers who recognize me from my blog. And, while I relish the fact that my blog is actually being read by people (because isn’t that what we all want when we publish our writing?), it is also disconcerting for me to realize that my family and I can be recognized in public.

People find me on the internet when they are looking for product reviews. Or people are subscribed to me as loyal readers. Or it’s a way for my friends and family to keep up with the ongoings of my life.

Either way, I am putting myself out there. Subjecting myself to scrutiny and laying a good part of my life bare for all to see.


sleep deprivation.

I haven’t posted in a while. Not that I consider myself to be a true writer but I do need something to compel me to blog. And, lately, while attempting to function under the fog of extreme sleep deprivation, I haven’t been motivated by much.

Alexa has been different from Max in every fathomable way. So, of course, that means she sleeps like shit.

The past few nights in a row (which feel like an eternity), she has been waking up around 3-4AM and refusing to go back to sleep… for HOURS.

For the past seven months, I have not slept longer than a 3 hour stretch at night (4 if I’m reeaallly lucky.) I typically get a cumulative 5-6 hrs of sleep. I have a sleep debt that feels as deep as the ocean. I often begin sentences these days and lose my thought midway through. And I am so tired I don’t even know what tired feels like anymore.