2014 | A Year in Review

It's that wonderful time again! My year in review via pictures from the Queen B of documentation.

I absolutely adore this time of the year when I get to reminisce and look back at the year and relive all the good moments. I'm no amnesia-sporting Pollyanna, though. I'm the first to admit there were some utterly stank moments that I'd much like to forget, but it also had some great times that made me laugh out loud...made my heart swell up a whole bunch, too. For the luv of kiwi! I got knocked up for goodness' sake!!!

The song this year proved quite tricky. I haven't really heard of any new bands that were tickling my fancy enough to become the soundtrack to my version of It's a Wonderful Life. (So if you have anything that's inspired you this year, share! No one likes a stingy music grubber.)  I ended up having to go back...back into time for this year's music selection. Being that the beloved Joe Cocker passed the week I started this project it felt right ending on one of my favorites sung by him. After all, I really did make it through this year with a little help from my friends. The advice and support have kept me going for sure. So much so that this is THE longest year in review I've ever done. I just couldn't cut anything out. One symptom of my pregnancy is an insatiable appetite for nostalgia. I apologize in advance.

I've heard from lots of friends that 2014 was a particularly hard year. Hopefully this little gem brings some love and light so that none of us have to end on a sour note.

Thanks to all those who made 2014 memorable!

Groucho Marx Dreams


"I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member." ~ Grouchy Marx

Funny man he was. Early this morning Mark woke up (I was awake already from the incessant pee trips I had to make to the bathroom.) and told me in a dazed and confused stupor that he had been dreaming about Ziggy and how she didn't want to be in the Asian club or the Hawaiian club. Then he promptly fell back to sleep; snoring gently while I laughed myself into another pee trip.

Apparently he still remembers the dream and said she was stressed out because she couldn't find a club she fit into. Classic multi-racial predicament. Fortunately for her, she will have a mommy who has been there and can help her deal with the "What are you?!" comments and the proverbial racial boxes people try to throw at her. We've got this, Universe. Now I know part of the reason she chose us to be her parents.

The realization couldn't come at a sweeter time. I wouldn't say we're paupers; w're not strapped for cash, but preparing for a baby is expensive and can be a bit overwhelming...especially when you live thousands of miles away from family. It was that overwhelming sensation that led me to comment on a mommy blogger post for a dream nursery contest. I really didn't think anything of it. There were hundreds of entries, but then they emailed and said Mark and I were finalists so we submitted our story and poof! We had a crazy amount of wonderful people rallying behind us voting their brains out over a weekend stretch for us to win.

Unfortunately there was some super shady business afoot. There was some highly obvious vote tampering happening and the contest folks decided to turn a blind eye... even getting a bit snarky about me bringing the malarkey to their attention. It disheartened me for sure. I felt bad for all the folks who had tried to help us win..the hours they put in. We'll still have a nursery no matter what so the actual prizes didn't mean much ...it was a matter of principle. Something that special shouldn't have required cheating... I felt so vulnerable and used almost. I hadn't shared my heart aches with getting pregnant with a lot of people. Very few knew of my fears of having cervical cancer and what that could mean for my future. I'm still disappointed in those contest people. I refuse to ever do another contest and I won't be supporting them (which is why you won't see a link here promoting their page.)

Monday was a hard day, nonetheless. The contest results and baby bump pains definitely got to me. Then Tuesday I had a surge of energy from God knows where. I went and worked out and while on a treadmill; doing a mean 3.5 walking pace I realized I'm blessed. I'm blessed this little lady chose me to be her mama. I'm blessed that my husband and I have good jobs and family and friends who care. It will be enough. I am enough. After Mark's hilarious dream I know that for sure even.

Dreams have a funny way of helping us see the day clearer...It's sort of beautiful, isn't it?

Our story for the contest:

Tish and Mark Arana and baby girl Ziggy Stardust coming in the spring 

Deep down I never really thought I’d be able to have a child. I was diagnosed with cervical cancer at a young age and even though my doctor said I was in the clear, I thought the worst when my husband and I started trying. I totally believe that our children choose us, though…that they come to us when their little spirits are ready to live in this world and so when I did see two lines appear I knew a miracle had happened and that some special little soul had chosen us. My pregnancy hasn't been golden, but it’s been magical. I've went from thinking it was impossible to believing in all the possibilities. Now begins the time when I yearn to do as much as I possibly can for her. We’re reading the books and taking the classes, watching the documentaries on child birth; doing everything in our power to create an inspiring and loving environment for her arrival. I’d love to continue that preparation with a perfect little calming nursery. That dream space would mean the world to my husband and I. We’re in LA alone. Both of our families live in other states so any and all help would be so greatly appreciated. I dream of a room that I rock her in; quiet and lovely that celebrates the love we have for her. The fact that the dream room nursery is gender neutral and grey (images that I’ve dreamed of since I first learned I was pregnant) is sort of kismet. We’re two very enthusiastic and appreciative parents looking to make our little miracles’ birth as welcoming as possible.

Her womb name: Ziggy Stardust…we didn't know the gender so we chose an androgynous name. The album mentions spiders which is our last name in Spanish so we knew it was sort of perfect for her. She totally acts like a Ziggy. She’s definitely our little rock star.

What Not To Say To A Pregnant Chick


In my last post I mentioned all the reasons why pregnancy isn't my favorite stage. I wrote briefly about my skin and how I look like a raging, hormonal 13 year old. My acne has acne. It's annoying and I'm vain as hell, but not enough to banish myself to a hermit's life and never go out in public. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do and it's Christmas shopping time.

I finally popped which means for the most part people can see that I'm knocked up and they smile (getting it that not every pregnant woman glows the good glow) and leave me be but this total ass clown at the mall today... OOO WEEE! Did I want to rage against that particular man.

I had been putting off buying maternity bras for the longest. I hate shopping. I hate shopping for maternity stuff even more, but the gals are growing so I took one for Team "No Longer an Iddy Biddy Girl" and headed to the mall. The women at Nordstrom were super nice and helpful. They cooed over Ziggy's womb name and laughed with me about my anti-pink stubborness. I left in good spirits; did a wee bit of Christmas shopping, grabbed a delightful ginger-infused juice from Jamba and was heading out of the mall when it happened...

This man working at a lotions and potions kiosk shoved some moisturizer in my face. I politely declined stating that I had to be careful about trying new products being that I was pregnant. (You'd be shocked to learn all the crap that's too toxic for babies to absorb through your skin!) He flippantly waved off my comment and said his products were totally safe for pregnancy (which didn't convince me at all) and then he dropped a stupidity bomb...

He looked right at me and said, "I even have some great products to help out all that bad acne you have on your face." He called it BAD. AND he grimaced when he was looking at it!

Quick side note: Everyone farts. It's a fact of life. What you may not know is pregnant women fart the most cruel, putrid smells known to Planet Earth. They're downright dirty and shocking. I obviously have no shame in my tooting game, but even I, fart obsesser, get a teeny bit self-conscious if I let one of those bad boys slip in mixed company.

Back to the story. I have never wanted to lash a preggo fart on a stranger so bad. Who says that?!  Note this oh clueless ones of the world: There are a plethora of rules out there about what not to say to a knocked up chick. Add this one to your list.

I'm feeling generous and helpful...

'Tis the season to prevent the sleasin' after all.

...Oh how I looooove being pregnant.

Me and all my pregnant acne glory. No filters. It's pregnancy. There's nothing I can do about it right now. But there is something you can do, folks. Don't comment on my skin! I have lethal gas activated and I'm not afraid to use it. 

And Then Pop! It All Changed


It has finally happened. She's popped out and made a belly for herself. 

Sorry readers, I have lagged. It's been awhile since my last confession. Latest: I'm not a fan of pregnancy. 

I swear it seems every woman I talk to who is knocked up is glowing and beaming with happiness, but the memo to soak in bliss never made it to my desk. (I knew it was a bad idea to start working from home full- time!)  Current list of why pregnancy isn't my favorite liminal stage:

  • I'm not a glower unless you count oily, acne-ridden skin. I swear it's like I've hit puberty three times over and the ish is just wrecking shop. You don't know what I would do for some harmful, toxic product that would eradicate every pimple and dark spot I've collected over the last couple of months.
  • I've developed all kinds of issues related to the butt and what comes out of the butt and what shouldn't come out of the butt. Use your imagination. 
  • I've never had weight in my midsection so I don't know how to handle the belly like a boss. I JUST popped and it's still tiny for a five month mama, but it's getting harder to bend over or sit like a normal human being. The bump reminds me on the daily that I no longer have control over my body. It belongs to her. Ziggy, Boss from the Belly. I'm making her cards.
  • I have no energy. Like none. I use to be THE crackhead of joy. I would bounce around and I was active every dang day of the week. Now going up the stairs in my home feels like I've just completed a marathon. I'd give myself a medal, but I don't have the energy to make it.
  • I had a weird ass hormonal moment that I hope never returns. Out of nowhere I started laughing uncontrollably... while Mark was trying to go to sleep. I felt terrible and tried to stop but couldn't which made me start sobbing uncontrollably out of panic. What the?!?! Where does that come from and why?! Stop it!
  • I'm getting super lazy when it comes to acting. Classes, auditions, waiting on avail to find out if I booked the darn thing...it's all weighing on me and I'm bummed that it's suddenly harder. The folks in my class don't get the fatigue I speak of. They also don't understand why I'd need to take off a couple weeks/months once the baby is born. (Who knows if I'll be back to myself and able to sit through four hour classes. Will I be able to breastfeed and therefore tied to Ziggy for however long?) These questions mean nada to folks...I guess I used to be one such clueless gal. The me today forgives the me of then.

Don't get it twisted, though...

All that said, I'm excited as can be to pop this little one out and have her in the world. I think this is why I've never heard mothers speak of pregnancy crap. It's like we're judged for saying it sucks sometimes. Now that I'm sharing symptoms I'm amazed at the amount of women who are stepping forward and sharing just how much they hated pregnancy, too. 

I would say more, but the kid is currently rolling like the homies...a hint that it's time to eat. It's also a reminder that even though this is uncomfortable, scary and weird it's temporary and results in a swell perk. Man, is this what they call growing up?!

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