2015: The Year in Review


Poor blog.

Ms. Blog got no love in 2015. The coming of the Ziggy threw the world as I knew it into utter chaos and I am just now recovering from that crazy chick's arrival. (Eight months in...)

I loved putting this year in review together. I laughed at just how home-bodied I've become. Almost every darn picture was taken in my home because that's where I've been holding up like the cute little mama hermit that I am.

Having a baby... I seriously go dumb trying to think how I can summarize such a thing. It's impossible. I can dabble in the details: This year was all about survival. Pure, unequivocal hang-on-to-your-big-girl-panties-folks! survival mode.

It's like I entered this mom machine. It tumbled me around; knocked the living shit out of me a couple of times (had me crying in showers and cars and shat...) and then spit me out as this crazy being who googled everything and couldn't stop taking pictures of the alien creature she popped out of her hoo hoo.

I've survived on 2-3 hours of sleep some days. I've been pooped on both literally and figuratively. So much newness...battles to get back to the old me just to realize that I'll never get her back. I'm this new entity; this brand new Tish that I'm slowly growing to understand. It may be cliche, but I don't give a rat's arse. It's the truth.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and cuss out loud; surprised at the woman I see. She knows how to keep a baby alive (a task I swear I once thought was beyond my grasp.) She has a weird new patience and a crazy amount of love and adoration for her daughter. She surprises the heck out of me.

When I was pregnant I was all dreams and theory...how I'd mother and parent. I laugh at that woman now. I have no time to philosophize and dream. I am what I am. I've learned to stop planning...stop controlling and just let her life and my new life unfold. Woody Allen isn't my favorite cup of tea, but I love his quote, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans."

God was laughing mighty hard at the old me.

I think I may start a vlog in the new year... a place where I can help other mamas out there who experienced the fear, loneliness and panic that I felt when I became a mom. It's a work in progress...just like me. I just know that having someone out there who gets it is necessary for that wonderful buzz word I keep mentioning. That's "survival" in case you too are working on three hours of sleep.

So here goes, 2016... I walk freely into the new year without expectation. I'm winging it folks! Let's see how I do.

Movies to See. This is My Kind of New Year's Resolution


I don't do so nice with resolutions...much too ADHD...the world changes too damn often once you have a baby (you can't resolve to do anything...Mr Universe laughs at people who think they have control...over anything...even bowel movements)

BUT I CAN resolve to see great films when they come out... here are some I've stumbled upon. This better happen. First I see the good films. Then I get inspired. Then I ask how can I get in these great films. That is how 2016 will go.

I really do have a psychic sense...

Okay so here are the films....

(She's on How to Get Away With Murder... I'm a fan.) 

Is it wrong that I feel like I've watched a film after finishing this post? I could spend a day watching trailers and feel accomplished...but I'll see the films. 


That Mom Life though...

Moms Need Socks and Friendship Times 100


I found this website and have been devouring the articles with a fervor usually reserved for new Netflix series.

You're welcome.

This one article, On Socks and Friendships, was just delightful. The writing is clever and delightful and leaves you wanting to curl up by a fire and sip some really smart hot cocoa.

"Friendship is the oatmeal sock version of who we are."

The idea of authenticity and truth actually inspired me to write. Me! The person who hasn't touched this blog's login page in a very sad and long time.

I was so pissed at moms after I had Z. Being a mother was sooo much harder than people let on. No one was sharing how much you'd cry. How mad you'd get...how often you'd shake your fist at the Universe. No one prepared me so I vowed I'd be different. I made sure to keep shit real on Instagram. When new moms announced their new arrivals I gave them my number and told them to call me if they ever needed someone to open up to...and when they danced around the same feelings I once had I let loose and shared my dark, frank and blunt truths. I felt my friends' fears easing up. When you learn you're not indeed the lone weirdo mama of the world, forced to walk the planet blind and alone, your spirits lift a bit. The hard stuff is inevitable, but it's sooo much more easier to navigate when you have friends who can give you road maps along the way; help you brace for the bumps...exposing the oatmeal socks if you will. 

So I've been keeping it real and seeking others out who also know how to keep it real...keep it real without being Negative Nancies. 

I recently joined a private facebook page specifically for mamas who are actors. Just when I thought (again) no one could possibly imagine how hard it's been trying to audition and be a mom I find a group of women in the exact same boat. 

There's just something about learning you're not alone that helps you ease up. I grow more confident. I take greater risks and enjoy the process just a bit more. Sharing is caring.

Word to your mother.

No makeup. House a hot mess. Real on crack. 

Miracle for Three Thousand, Alex

Holy cow chomping on some 'spiritual' grass do I need a miracle...

I didn't realize just how hard we've been struggling to stay afloat until I auditioned for a commercial and got put on 'avail'. It was the first time in months I actually allowed myself to dream and think about what we could do with the money I'd make from that job...We'd take a break from stressing about rent, groceries and child care fees. We'd be able to actually give each other Christmas gifts.

Then I didn't get the job and all of that hope and joy and dreaming just vanished.

Man, this Thanksgiving was a hard one for me. I couldn't find the gratitude. We went for a walk and I cried to my husband. I felt sorry for myself and then felt terrible because our baby doesn't understand what's going on...and I wasn't strong or optimistic for Mark. I really wanted to be a light to make the situation better, but I just couldn't kick the pity I was feeling.  (Which for the record made me feel worse. Everyone has rough times and having a Debbie Downer around doesn't help at all.)

I just don't know what to do. Do I give up the dream and move my family out of California so that we can breath? Am I being selfish by keeping us here... punishing my family as I miss job after job?

Being a big kid is HARD, yo!

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