The Day Your Eyes Met Mine

This blog post was originally written back in the day but was never published, so here it is with only items having been revised to be the exact days and mentions of exact names for some privacy as well as respect to the individuals of the story.

"No one else will ever know the strength of my LOVE for you. After all, you're the only one who knows what my HEART sounds like from the inside."

For nine months everyone tells you to prepare and to get ready...what no one or hardly anyone will tell you and that some may not admit to is: 1)it's ten months not nine, 2)every mother will claim to be an expert because of the children they have raised or had, 3)there IS NOT a book written in this entire world that can prepare you for motherhood, I don't care what anyone says. Books you buy and waste money on are soon given back to places like Half Price Books because not only will you evolve as a parent with any additional children you may have but the books only give you ideas of what to expect. The moment you start feeling your baby move and the moment the baby is born, you'll soon find that your baby may slightly depict what the books say but otherwise is completely unique to the growth and adaptation of their environment. Allow me to reiterate, I don't and won't bash the books on pregnancy and motherhood, especially for men to get a "glimpse" or a better understanding of what the female undertakes pre/during/post pregnancy; however following those books will create more of a headache than just learning and listening to the elder women around you as you go...

Moving on...two days specifically post my oldest being born and it was a day filled with anxiousness and euphoria as well as dread, since I would finally be seeing my baby. They had finally moved me into a more posh recovery room in the hospital and I was finally feeling alive and strong enough to move on my own. I could feel some internal adjustments going on from the incision but I was just glad to be able to get up on my legs; granted I was told to take things easy and to still use the wheelchair until my doctor told me or noted otherwise. By 3pm I was already moved into the new recovery room and settling in; my mom, dad, and sister were helping with everything but especially with my daughter being in the NICU. I was more conscientious of my cell phone now instead of the haze I had been in, so I was able to text my idiot ex-husband (well husband at the time) and his grandmother (whom went by Gigi) since they were the ones who were reaching out to see how we were doing. The hospital staff told me to eat dinner and relax, but that's easier said than done for a new mother who still hadn't set eyes on her daughter after they removed her from my chest! So I ate…and I patiently waited for directions to see my daughter.

Finally 6:30pm rolled around and I was being wheeled in the wheelchair to the elevator by my father, to see the NICU section. I was praying in my head as I waited patiently for the chime of the elevator doors to open, indicating that we had arrived to the NICU. The doors opened and I held my breath as my dad pushed me forward. We were directed to a side locked entrance and buzzed in, then instructed to follow the NICU protocol; remove jewelry, bag the cell phone/electronics that had to be put on silent, and thoroughly clean your hands at the washing station. You were given the option to also in addition use the gloves they provided there. I already felt my energy from the day being depleted and the movement from the washing station hadn't helped. I asked where my daughter was and they told me as they pointed, that she was in the very back near the windows, and when I looked it was a little dark in her corner…I felt like time stopped or was in slow motion as my dad kept pushing me closer to my daughter. I was getting teary eyed by the other NICU stations we passed. Hearing the machines, baby sounds/murmurs, and some of the babies in sad conditions. I didn't know what to expect so I was expecting to find the worst at my baby's section. She was in the middle of a square box hospital bassinet look-a-like device; hooked up to the machine that had her blood pressure and heart rate. I finally got a good look at my mom and sister, who looked exhausted, and I came to find out that these beautiful women had never left my daughter alone from the moment the nurse had taken her off of my chest. That they had made sure someone was with her every minute and every hour of the day in my absence. My baby was so tiny and helpless, she was also a little cold from the nurses checking/probing/poking her. It was a shift change so there was a small window of quiet while the nurses had their meeting, for the start of the 7pm shift. My mom and sister during this small window of time, were able to bring me up to speed on what they had done, hadn't done, and what they had seen from the hospital staff. They were my eyes and ears, and I was filled with relief (and a little anger at myself). I think that baby recognized my scent and voice because she grabbed onto my finger and I never wanted to let go. I wanted to stand right where I was, sleep and recovery be damned. I couldn't leave my little one now, especially how I saw her plugged up. Granted I felt even more relieved and blessed that she was nowhere near the same level as the other children in the NICU area but still it was an awful feeling to see and witness. I was told to come back after I got more rest and tried pumping because she was going to need me and my milk…I had to leave because I would be of no use to my little one if I had complications during recovery. I kissed my daughter's hand, and my dad helped me back into the wheelchair; wheeled me back upstairs to my recovery room and I could see that my dad was not wanting to leave me alone, yet I really needed a moment to myself. So, I did the only thing I could think of, I sent him on a food errand, as I screamed into my pillow…The evening into the night wasn't peaceful because I could hear all the other rooms in passing and while in mine-all the mothers with their babies in the room, where mine was not only nearby but not in the room with me so my anger continued to soar. My blood pressure got higher and a pill to relax was an option. I remember crying myself to sleep and waking with crusties on my eyes...

Early Monday morning brought me with better hopes and a better spirit as I was able to have more control of my body and movements. Yet, I still hadn't received news about my baby or about her joining me in the recovery room I was in. I got as presentable as I could (granted I would be back in my room to pump, eat, and sleep all over again) and made my way to the NICU. My mom had already swapped out with my sister and was updating me on what had gone on during the night and considering that the night shift had already swapped out with the day shift. My little baby was still in her clear plastic bassinet box, not only hooked up to wires but now with a machine that had tubes in her nostrils…she was continually uncomfortable and fidgety! I think she recognized my voice because when I would be next to her box her little eyes would open and she would start to try to pull out the tubes and move the machine on her face. The nurses kept saying that she was a smart cookie considering that she would know how to remove the object from not only her face but her nose as well. I was sent back to my room for my check-in of the day with my nurse, my meds, and breakfast. I was reminded that my baby wouldn't get better anytime soon if her mommy didn't recover as well. The idiot of the man who provided his sperm (not even husband yet), would call and text when he was able to since he was still out on the oil rig; the longest phone call check-ins basically were right before he would start his shift because he was up and alert and had taken care of his personal routine to be ready for shift. That's when I would download him on everything going on with our daughter.

The goal of the doctors was to make sure she would be able to breathe efficiently without the pap machine assisting with her oxygen levels. They made it a point of checking her recovery every morning and every evening. Her status through the night is what would typically prompt the doctors for their treatment; whether it would change or continue. Monday brought me though some very close up moments with my daughter. I got to see her eyes open and look straight at me, into me…as if she knew every moment I would come up to her box and was around her area…then she would make a cooing sound and close her eyes…my arms ached to hold her completely and not just hold her little hands or stroke her skin, but I just wasn't allowed. Sometimes I felt when she looked straight at me, she was trying to tell me something. Almost as if saying, "help me, why aren't you helping me and getting this stupid thing off."

Those moments happened a lot and I would get so angry…Angry at the circumstances that surrounded my pregnancy which caused more stress. Angry at the man who claimed so much in verbal statements but had no actions to show for especially in the most vital and dire of moments; who claimed to be my partner couldn't even console me because he wasn't even trying to be there. Angry that I couldn't hold my own daughter because of wires and tubes. Angry that I saw how nurses could only do and show so much attention to my daughter because of all the other children in the NICU. Angry that I knew what was better and what my daughter needed but was powerless to be able to do it since we were still at the hospital. Angry that I couldn't do more. Angry that the sperm donor's mother made no efforts in her supposedly excited role as a new grandmother; no texts or calls. The only family members who reached out (if not every day) during our stay at the hospital was the sperm donor's father as well as his paternal grandfather, and the maternal grandparents. Of course, my entire family kept in touch and kept checking on us-nothing that would surprise me and it was expected. I felt useless and powerless-with the only thing I could do was to pray…

Sincerely,

A Distinct Woman

 

First Friday's (Catholic Faith Traditions/Practices) - General/Family life

Honor the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus

The origin of this Catholic tradition comes from the 17th century when visions were reported in France by St. Margaret Mary Alacoque. What was revealed to her directly by Jesus, that He would provide her twelve special promises for those who honor His Sacred Heart the biggest take away being that the most notable grace would be final repentance, which means not dying in mortal sin nor without Sacraments. 

Core practices to receive the promises and fulfill the tradition is when nine consecutive Frist Fridays are completed. The manner in which they are notably known to be completed is in the following: you will have gone to Confession prior to attending the First Friday Mass, then you will ensure to attend Mass on the First Friday (attendance being the full Mass not leaving early, prior to the blessing in conclusion to the Mass celebration), and ensure that you receive the Holy Communion with the intention of making reparation for sins committed (knowingly and unknowingly). 

For more information these websites are pretty helpful:

First Friday Devotion - The Catholic Crusade & What is First Fridays Devotion? - FOCUS

Sincerely,

A Distinct Woman 

Work Hard to Build a Home - General/Family Life

There is such a thing as feeling even more alone in a relationship than even when you're literally alone (single). I have written about the relationship I had with my ex-hisband but this post in particular is more about the person whose actually working toward creating both a home and a family.

What was supposed to have been a simple visit with my folks in Virginia turned out to be a new way of life. Looking back and even remembering it all, including the emotions, it was all well worth it and though some of the hardest points in life (well the second most hardest-there's one more that I haven't written about) -you've got to let God really take the wheel. 

Needless to say I had to acquire an actual place to call hone because my husband (at that time, as he's now an ex-husband) didn't want to do or be more and provide more than what he was comfortable with.                        I remember the conversations so vividly...his initial thoughts was that he was going to go pick us three up after he was a settled in Colorado (with the 5th wheel that was in my name) and that we would be spending time with him at the oil location and in the 5th wheel. I was not opposed to this idea as I thought it was temporary but he than stated that we could live on the 5th wheel until we saved enough money. Now before any of you readers think I'm a snob for what I'm about to say that's you're prerogative but definitely far from the truth, just a reality with growing children and space! 

So when I mentioned it was a nice idea and inquired when he would be taking us back to our actual "home" he wasn't a happy camper. I had to explain the logistics of space and materials; how much pampers and wipes and the necessities of the baby, then of course the oldest things (though minimal) she needed a little more space to be able to allow me to take care of the baby and not be worried about what she was doing and it was the sense of security. I tried to explain all this and the toll I knew it would take on me because I wouldn't have a car and he would be the one coming and going as he pleased from the RV spot and he would be the one always leaving. Sometimes his shift was even longer, but that was lies I found out later so I used that same logic I believed him using. Yes a visit turned into a longer stay. Of course my parents didn't mind but I definitely did and I was the one crying in humility and a sense of humbleness because I was the one sleeping on someones couch and ensuring that my kiddos were taken care of. If it wasn't for my family and his grandparents I wouldn't have still always had what we needed and even sometimes been able to take care of my bills and even sometimes myself. I was always having to beg him for sending us money; God was always helpful and watching because sometimes his own grandparents would send me gift cards and funds to assist with the girls needs; definitely NOT him. The biggest bills and foot of the bills was my parents again for: having us, feeding us, and yes clothing even my kids because they outgrew our continued "visiting" stay with them...

Enough was enough for me and if my supposed husband wasn't going to take an initiative with his own family then it was time to start creating our own ride and get the wheels rolling. I didn't at the time convey all the details to my family, out of apparently some unaligned loyalty still to my idiot husband at the time. However, I conversed enough for them to know that I was willing to make a move with them or at least in the same town/city that they went into. With my father's help I was streamlined into an interview; not to be egotistical but I knew that I was the right person for the job and I wouldn't bring them headaches just resolutions, well that is unless people or members had something to hide or an unsatisfactory agenda anyway. So my job was secured, salary confirmed, and now it was a matter of now ensuring a new home would be put in place for my kids to finally get a sense of their own space and safety. Not that they didn't have their own form of space in my parents place, but with my uncle and even uncles (yes plural) staying there, it was a bit crowded and they didn't have all that was there either for their own use. Perhaps it was pride but I didn't like the feeling I was getting and I knew that we deserved more and our own place. 

When we first arrived to my parents’ apartment home in Virginia, it was a beautiful and quaint area but what was more surprising is that these places weren't your typical apartment like back in Texas. No these apartments were awesome! So if you're moving to or want to know where to live I've got a place to recommend and even better the apartment owner/building management company. Anyway, moving on! What I was trying to get at was that I came to notice since the first day that the apartment home below them was not in use. Apparently come to find, it was never occupied since the building was completed post consutrction phase. The Lord was very good indeed! I made sure to tour the facility with my mom and the girls, my parents received a referral discount or fund, AND I made sure to put in my application along with my deposit. With everything having been provided to me recently and even the job's HR office knowing what I was trying to do, they were super helpful and endearing to my and my cause. Right, wrong, or indifferent I made sure to not include my husband with what I was planning and doing until I had everything in place and everything in order.

It came time to converse about our eldest's birthday party as I had sent out invitations to family since prior to our arrival to Virginia, which meant we were supposed to be back in Texas in October...needless to say that didn't happen and still my husband (then anyway) never made a move to get to us sooner or still take us back to our Texas home(well my parents home in Texas where my kids and I called home). He also wasn't the one who ended up canceling to anyone I had sent out the invitation to, nope that was all me too BUT I made sure that everyone at least knew or was aware that it was because of him that we were still not in Texas yet and that we wouldn't be there in October. Well we were already borderline with finishing October already and arriving into November. The conversations of holidays were now in place. I relayed to him that I found a job and was just working out details and what he thought (granted I already had an idea of how the conversation was going to go but I still wanted, needed to go through the motions). He congratulated me and said great for me and that it was nice my mom was still offering to help as much as she could. Then I mentioned to him about the apartment and how it would be a nice place to call home with hopefully my starting work and then when he was available on his days off he could come to the apartment, to at least start a base of where we would or could actually call home. His exact statements were, "the apartment home sounds pretty nice you should send me some pictures. Don't worry about putting me on the lease and because of my background and credit I don't want to hinder putting my name on the lease. Just make sure that your new job would be able to pay for the bills and the apartment."

I'm a strong woman, or at least I've always prided myself on that whether mentally, psychologically, and yes even physically when needed but to say that even knowing what I knew was going to begin or that his words would confirm my next moves in the Chess game, my stomach still dropped and quiet tears still dropped down my cheek. The conversation ended and I knew what I had and needed to do. We deserved someone who loved us and actually cared about us, my daughters deserved an actual father and thankfully they had a heavenly one and a new earthly one - which was my father (their grandfather). 

Starting November 2018 I began to buy every single piece of object, furniture, and necessities that my kids and I needed. That didn't mean I wasn't going to play nice until he at least did his part by bringing my daughters ALL of their things from the Texas house. It's not like anything we had even there was from him purchasing it! Not only mostly my side of the family (minus his grandparents in Weatherford) but he never paid for anything because my sister was always there for us...I was proud of myself because at least we had a place-a physical address, and my mom could have the openness in taking care of them in the spaces that would be ours. The little we did have from out trip north was organized and placed into the locations of where their new permanent place would be. The temporary crib and my eldest's toddler bed was up and the kitchen was almost functional. Clothes could be hung and no more wasted time on prepping since we had everything accessible to us now in our spaced. My girls room was functional especially into the bathroom, their toys/play room was equipped what what they needed for skills, motor skills, imagination, and playtime. I made sure that my bedroom was the last room fixed completely. 

The space was cold from color but rich in warmth and love that's for sure...I would get up from the inflatable mattress everyday and get ready, so my mother could come down the stairs to be on grandma duty. I made sure we had a TV, even if it was on the floor but again functionality of everything we needed was complete. I could rest easy knowing my mother could do what she needed and if there was something truly necessary they would all three just walk up one stair to get to their apartment above us.

God was VERY good to us, because how the structure was laid out we had lots of natural light and though we didn't have a garage our direct access from outside was easy and feasible. It worked for us and my parents continued to let us use their vehicle that had the remote start and warm up-so the cold season was minimal for us. The even more notable items were the overall temperature of the apartment home. because we were on the first floor and had dirt/earth surrounding us on two sides the level of heat retained inside the apartment during the cold (regardless of the windows) was awesome! Then the level of cool temperatures during what they called heat-just perfect! So our energy/electric bill was ridiculously fantastic AND it was a co-op so I would sometimes get BACK money for the efficient and effective way I was running out temps and home. 

Come December and I was finally able to plug in more and use more funds to make it not only feel warm but look warm for my girls and I...

My internal push at the time right before the holidays I'll admit was to prove to the idiot of my husband (now ex-husband) at the time that I meant what I said when he was pushing to get married and even post as a reminder...I never needed him and "the Lord would provide me with what we needed, so don't think for a second that I won't do right by my child regardless of where you stand." So I made sure to plan in advance my upcoming paychecks in order to provide my children with the bare minimum in our new home, the home I acquired and worked for, to have a homey and loving feel during the holidays regardless of him. I made sure I didn't share the alarm code, nor did I provide him a spare key, and I most definitely didn't give him free access to the apartment home since it was MY home (mine and my daughters). 

When he departed post the holidays, I remember crying my eyes out not because I had a heartache over what was inevitably coming or even for his departure...no I was crying of anger due to my stupidity and also in relief. More so in relief because my Lord was great and merciful. The choices that took me to strive for making everything work was finally bearing fruit; the Lord was providing my girls and I with everything we needed; not just needed but even a little of what we wanted...  

Don't do it for the praise, don't do it because it's expected, and definitely don't do it to prove a point. the real reason you should do it is because its sacrificial love and you LOVE your children. You are supposed to do right by them and provide a better environment-that doesn't mean coddle, feel sorry, make them lazy, or cater to their every need-but you're giving them what they NEED. Do it because it would've been the same or hopefully the same goal/job if you had the right spouse as well. 

You're children were given to you for a reason, do right by them and the responsibility that the Lord above you has given specifically to you. Whether you like it or not YOU WILL be asked at both your mini-judgment and death, in front of God - how you did or didn't take care of the children he entrusted to you. If you're not religious, then shoot it's not your children's fault you made stupid choices and decided to spread your legs, so be responsible and take care of what's yours - ACTUALLY TAKE CARE OF not just pretend to me a mother/father. 

Sincerely,

A Distinct Woman 

Be a Parent, NO ELECTRONICS - General/Family Life

Everywhere you turn there is a child sitting upright (baby, toddler, middle schooler, teen, and yes even adults now) with a smart phone/tablet or electronic in hand - especially at mealtimes or at tables in general. 

I remember when I was first pregnant that I started witnessing families around me become more, well digitalized. Hell my own ex-husband was always damn glued to his phone even when our kids were babies, couldn't even get him to enjoy just feeding the babies without whipping out his phone to play or scroll social media...but that's neither here nor there. I was observing this change in society and would see many other mothers my age (and older) beginning to entertain their children with electronics. I wanted to make a promise to my unborn child that I was going to strive my best to have electronics always be our last resort. I needed and wanted to figure out what that looked like or needed to be...

I began to circle back to my childhood and upbringing and also that of the stories I heard from my relatives and their upbringing in the older generations. One thing always stood out at me, that when a family had more adults than children there was always going to be boring moments for the little ones so imagination and creative needed to be something that began with a seed; another wards teach my child and any future children for that matter that their imagination and creativity would benefit many future events and circumstances that they find themselves in. 

I felt compelled to create an environment that would grow the seed for adventure, exploration, observation, and appreciation of the simplest of things so that yes, in the boring of moments whether at formal or familial gatherings they could fall back on their little imaginations to entertain themselves with. Granted I would also sneak in my books to read so I could whip it out at long meal times or at events, heck even my sketchbook and pencil once I was done eating.

I needed and wanted to have my kids appreciate and understand the importance of using first their minds and what was on the table/at the restaurant before electronics came into the picture. An example would be the creamers or jelly packs at cafes or breakfast/brunch locations. We would create our games such as the memory game with the various types of jellies, or create structures out of both the creamers and jelly packs, then use straws or wrappers of straws to create little characters (even our own fingers sometimes were the little characters walking through our structures). Then once the meal arrived we would have everything picked up and resort to something different post the meal. sometimes adult conversations were had so yes NOW the electronics would come out (this is usually towards the end of the meal or more specifically around ordering dessert or waiting to finish paying the check) or the option of pulling the electronics out. Granted I wasn't stupid enough to purchase my kids a tablet! Kid's Amazon, nor mini iPad, nor a Samsung one either! I had only three apps that either of them could use (since they were at the earlier stages of learning-between six years and younger): ABC Disney, a kids puzzle game with SO many levels it was ridiculous but it would keep them occupied, and a coloring/drawing app - especially if they had already used up the paper at a restaurant or didn't have any coloring options at someone else's house.

These three specific apps were nicely created to be used without minimal to no supervision so it was great on the peace of mind for ads as well as the information/material they were looking at. The nice part as well was that any adult sitting next to my children could play along in between conversations or follow along with them while carrying on the conversations. There was still a balance. 

Another important factor I had to consider and I advise all parents to really pay attention to is, our kids live by witnessing their parents behavior. If the parents are always on their phones and never providing that personal relationship, THEN you go and provide them the electronics-don't go bitching and complaining that you don't have a relationship with you kids, or that they are so moody and you don't know why (start with how much intentional and dedicated time did you actually spend), or they don't seem to want a relationship with you. Yeah the problem is the parent/s...

With what I had started, I did begin to notice that my children were feeding something wonderful in their minds.  Passing age four I began exploring these cool items (like the ones in the pictures) that were travel friendly so that they could be used in the car, visiting a relative, and even better at the table post them completing their meals. What's meant to be fun and something to immerse themselves into "fun time" ended up becoming something that was already serving as a form of education of them as well. These would help and still do today that my kids don't search or need electronics. 

I never put into my head that because of either their height or age they would have constraints to being capable of completing tasks, so staying busy and keeping busy (in a good way) was of my upmost importance. How can I provide decent human beings into the world, or good partners should God call them to be married, or live in the world without me if learning everything and anything wasn't on the table for them. If I was in the kitchen than I would have my kids either "playing kitchen" as well or at least listening as well as being able to see what I was doing while they played something else in the living room adjacent to the kitchen in the open floor plan. It always seemed to stem their curiosity from time to time to look at what I was doing-which then later fed into learning to cook, bake, and yes even know how to clean the kitchen. Same thing with chores and working in the garage and yes even detailing and cleaning out my vehicles I owned! I wasn't going to always just have them playing because that's not reality, but a good mix of play and understanding life - that's key! Again it's not about being some drill sergeant, it's about exposing the kids to something that will benefit their livelihood and in turn providing them their human dignity (as is something tied into our faith life) and then making it fun or eventful in some ways. For my daughters and I it was including music they loved, or being outside, or after our task we would be able to play and enjoy the rest of our day. 

To this day for long drives or roadtrips the electronics are one used during the night time when they can't do other things in the light or when they aren't able to look out the window. OR if they've been good all week and we're driving somewhere a little bit of a ways away, then the tables are a award; thankfully though the norm is always having the electronics as a last resort...

Please do your kids (at any age of their lives) a favor an HAVE a connection with them, make time with/for them, and more importantly ensure that they are seen by you even if their being stubborn about it. There's going to be many instances in life that they will need to look back on memories to recall better times; the fact that they won't have those memories or moments in their upbringing to help them get through some hardships...well that falls on you the parents- it will be your fault as the parent/s. 

Sincerely,

A Distinct Woman 

April in 2017 - General/Family Life

This was a blog post I wrote so long ago but never got around to posting it. When it was written it was not long after knowing I was pregnant with my second child and problems regarding m ex-husband along with his family persisted and only got worse...I needed an outlet and writing was always my sanctuary (well during that time counseling and writing was a safety when I wasn't at church or with my girls). So this is unedited and the original first draft of this post. Appreciate your patience and you're time for reading.

One of my previous posts from last year, before my rather silent absence, was during the month of April. However it did not mention the most important of events in that month, as it was solely focused on a mother getting back into shape (physically and health wise). Well April was the month of not only Easter (as I am a practicing and heartfelt Catholic) but of the second most blessed feeling for a mother to have for her child. I was to have my daughter baptized in the Catholic Church and in a humbling location with the top most influential priests of the beginning of my young adult life. It was amazing to me, not only still with the flutters of new motherhood, but of this momentous and life binding responsibility as a parent. I had accepted the responsibility of the gift of my daughter that was given to me, but now in choosing to baptize her, well - that’s a life altering and life changing responsibility a part from motherhood. You see you are now accepting, ackwloedging, and making the promise of the fact that you are now solely responsible for the moral decisions the individual will make; in addition to how their souls will appear before God at their death and on Judgement Day. A responsibility that is shared with the Godparent/s but not necessarily as heavy the weight should be on their shoulders compared to that of the parent/s. Sadly these are ideals or visions that are merely overlooked as Christians and/or Catholics, because in today’s mind all they say and see is that “if you’re religious sure you just automatically baptize your child” without any true reflection or decisive action in that it’s an understanding of the importance of this baby/child/adults life whether they may or may not realize it at that moment. This is a topic close to my heart and that I will re-touch again on a later post. Anyway...

So I’ve been working full time, a mother full time (even from afar with my mother assisting in the care and safety of my child at home while I work), and planning the celebration of the baptism of my daughter. A known tradition is that the invitees are the ones you’ve chosen to bear witness to this individuals baptism and that in turn are also responsible in holding that person liable for their actions in the future especially if immoral. They are extensions of the moral teaching of the parent/s and Godparent/s when that person is not in their presence. So there are a good amount of people that I wanted and made sure to invite; whether it be because of their true friendship or because of their influence on my life and that of actual family members;  who I know will or at least assume will take a part in my daughters life. Well unfortunately, the invite list was heavily based on my side as opposed to our daughters father (now my husband). There was a special significance in the location to where I chose to have my daughter baptized and that was something I may never share except with my own daughter (when she’s of age); it’s something so personal and intimate in faith as well as my journey at the time. The priests that were in attendance were very significant in their roles, both even now and then; yes, that means there was more than one priest who celebrated the baptism-a total of two priests were present and celebrated the baptism. I was filled with wonder in the preparations of the baptism to the point that I was planning and organizing in enough time in advance for every details to take place. I mention this because my now mother-in-law had mentioned to me about the beauty and tradition and an heirloom/inherited baptism gown. I was thrilled with her idea because my family unfortunately were not able to salvage the baptism gowns of the family due to their complete discoloration and deterioration. This would be something special and new for my girl and for my new family, so I left her in charge and she had stated that one of her clients was able to design, make it, and have it ready for the baptism. A date which was known in advance and in plenty of time prior to the event taking place. 

I waited literally a month before the baptism date to notify the Godparent as it was not a decisions I was going to make rashly or just on the spot based on speculation. I say this because my daughters father (now husband) is not and never seemed to be religious even though baptized Methodist. He was never practicing in faith then so unfortunately the recommendation he had for a Godfather was not possible in the eyes of the church because they were not Catholic. This was a thorough conversation I had to have with him to explain as best as I could that there was certain religious traditions and rules that revolved around the baptism of a child in the Catholic faith. You see a Godparent can not be (2) members of the same sex, nor can they not be practicing Catholics. They must be in full union with the Catholic Church (accepting and receiving all sacraments of the faith) and be a current practicing Catholic of the traditions and laws of the church; this being for the sole reason of being able to respect the religioun of the parent/s as well as teaching the faith of the parent/s. We went through our ideals and list of family members; so legally and on documentation my daughters Godmother is my sister and in social retrospect her Godparent’s are my sister and my husbands best friend. My sister and I were able to prepare ourselves for the Baptism class and in the necessities of the baptism itself. I wanted for my sister to focus on herself in her role and on the items I knew she would know to be important to the sacrament. Note this was already a month in advance to the blessed event (where invitations were sent out close to two months in advance). Where I had yet to hear about a baptism gown or the guarantee of a baptism gown for my daughters baptism. So being the individual that I am in NOT wanting to wait last minute or scramble for something, especially for a moment this important, I asked for my family’s assistance in search for the baptism gown and items associated with the wardrobe for my daughter-in case (even when I already had a feeling) of a lapse on the person who I had let in charge of that item. 

I will say this before delving into details; I was very glad it wasn’t a full mass in celebration of the baptism because I would have not been able to take communion for my anger up to two weeks prior to the event and on the day of. An anger so overwhelming that I had to attend the sacrament of reconciliation the most immediate time and day that I would be able to attend. You see I was notified two weeks prior to the actual event that this wonderful family gown that would be inherited from generation to generation would not be and that my mother-in-law was shopping online for the gown. Sending me two days after letting me know of gowns that were humbling for the occasion yet something that looked more like an Easter dress than a baptism gown. You may think it snooty on behalf of my Catholic tradition but considering that my daughter was my first born and that she was already specially blessed since birth...I did not want her gown to reflect simple modesty but that of the beautiful and majestic grace that had befallen her since in the NICU. My sister bought her gown (that in turn also turned into a dress for after the baptism celebration) the weekend prior to the event and thankfully it was the one we had originally seen and wanted but had awaited for the verdict of someone else before purchasing...

The blessed day for my daughter and there was no “t” not crossed or “i” that wasn’t dotted-I made sure of that. Both for the guests (witnesses) and that of  my family (both new and immediate). The restaurant was secured and taken care of for the reception thereafter, accommodations had been made for the family of my now husband, and it was only a matter of getting ready for the event. My family (mother, father, sister, and now husband) were all assisting me in getting ready and my daughter. Everything seemed to be going well and looked positive for the day...until I saw what my mother-in-law was wearing. Wardrobe in a place of worship (even in the Catholic Church) seems to either be overlooked or not enforced enough, whether by the clergy itself or my parental control. Out of shere respect for the church in which you enter, no matter the denomination as you are coming together to workshop our Lord and savior, you should NOT be dressed to go to the beach as if you have your two piece swimsuit underneath your dress. Maybe that’s just me and the conservative academic background in the Catholic private schools I had, or my parents teaching of the modesty of a lady, or just that of the Catholic faith itself when we entered into the celebration of receiving a sacrament...I remember that the master of ceremony and coordinator would tell us “you are not to have your boobs hanging out, tube tops, spaghetti straps, or mini skirt length skirts or dresses of any kind. You are preparing to receive the Lord in a new way and should always remember that when dressing for mass/church.” Everyone else (including those not practicing in any Christian denomination, had the decency and education/respect of entering the church with modesty and appropriate clothing. I about wanted to cry because this was the mother of my soon to be husband that year and this was a reflection (whether unintentional or not) of what my now husband was exposed to. 

It was a beautiful ceremony in it’s simplicity and yet in the various traditional details. Looking back on the day even now though I am heartfully sorry that my sister in her new role of Godmother did not get as much time alone with my daughter as I has originally envisioned or imagined. I was in severe mother mode that day and unless my daughter cued her dad or I, she basically stayed with either him or I. At the time I didn’t think it bad considering it would be fair to all attending that our daughter wouldn’t be more in one persons arms than the other. But sadly, there wasn’t many or any of just them two to commemorate forever in an image, that they were Godmother and Goddaughter; this was all also the case at the reception. A reception that my now husband says he will not pay that much for if we have any future children. It was a full (3) course meal for everyone and unlike what he wanted to do, celebratory tradition is that you are paying for everyone else as you’ve invited them to celebrate and witness, not carrying or worrying about cost. He said then he had never known or heard something like that; the irony is that last year at a friends daughters baptism (who are American and Catholics), they followed suit with not having their guests pay their way in the celebration of the reception. 

All in all, I’m blessed that my daughter was able to receive her sacrament and that she was a beautiful baptized child of God that day...then the beautiful Christian irony would be a fully initiated Catholic come that weekend for her very first Easter!

Sincerely,

A Distinct Woman

The 10 Commandments of Living a Successful Life - Book Review/Recommendation

There are many books written and by a variety of talents throughout the world, but I feel compelled to vocalize and hope for the rise of a new author; one is wholesome and that all profits from the books created go to a beautiful cause. He is a priest in the Fort Worth Diocese in the Catholic Parish of St. Martin de Porres in Prosper, Texas and so far has written three very simple and yet helpful/interesting books. 

This one like the other two books, are easy reads without the big academic verbiage or top shelf academia involvement. He was kind of enough to make it relatable and easily identifiable for when you're reading. I'll warn this is more about faith life than some "create your own success" for personal reasons.

So if you're wanting to get something that will start to tweak interest into helping your life on earth for the betterment of your soul-this is one for you...

Sincerely,

A Distinct Woman 

Utah Adventures Pt 2 - General/Family/Recommendations

We're back! But it's a different adventure and in a different area in the mountains! You already know from my previous post that almost anywhere is Utah can be an adventure AND it's sometimes a bit of a drive. Although there are still some great highlights and not the typical places that are shown on social media either. If you aren’t some advanced hitch hiker or a serious adventurer with the packs and tents this is a place for you! 

Within the Wasatch Mountains in what’s called Little Cottonwood Canyon, you have a beautiful drive to your main destination. As you enter into the mountains, you find beautiful landscape and the further up the mountain road you go and the more you feel as if you’re on top of the world.

The road feels like it just keeps winding up the mountain without end, until you get to the Ski Resort. The Snowbird Ski Resort is pretty obvious and you’ll see the signs right off the bat. Try to park closer to the entrance if you can if not there’s always valet. The reason is because you can easily go into a lovely and soothing creek bed area of the river that provides the exact sounds so many pay for in their white noise machines or apps! Plenty arrays of greens and colors in the lush landscape (when it’s not the snowy winter season) and when there is snow a beautiful rush water noises against rocks and rice and a different white canvas landscape scene!

My family, daughters and I enjoyed exploring a few times with a few other different additional people with us. It’s always a spell binding day the moment you enter into the canyon areas. The truly spell binding moment is when you reach the top of the mountain from the Ski Resort. So you enter the resort and it’s amazingly well maintained temperature (for both the cold and warmer season) and you have plenty of shops for your convenience and needs, whether for the cold or to change out should you not have the right clothes - yes that includes shoes too. You have a few eating spots within the facility and even outside on the pavilion and terrace areas. They have the specific ski stores and then there’s also these outdoor “rides” or sports to enjoy including that of an outdoor track and slides. We never ventured that route because the girls were too small but they always enjoyed watching those that participated. 

We went more for the large gondola ride up to the top of the mountain…that’s where we never did realize how much time we spent up there and the colors of both the sky and the sun never seemed to be the same! It was always a mesmerizing experience. 

There is a specific hiking tail as well as an ATV trail and then a cyclist trail as well for the dirt/mountain bikes. When you got to the top there was an observation deck with a few snacks sold and restrooms but it also opened up to multiple different areas that you could trail through the mountains. 

The top most point was on the observation deck which was gated and had a safe guard in place for all looking out. Then there was an open road area that anyone (including the maintenance workers) could use to have a longer drive than the direct gondola route to the top. 

We always made sure to walk as much as we could and take in the sites while having our drinks of water and using the restroom because though the gondola ride wasn’t that long both going and coming you did have to wait a little bit in order to secure your position in the gondola. You see it was a full standing gondola so it’s not like you had either reserved seats or reserved anything outside of just being on the ride!

My girls and I have taken so many different pictures from different angles in the five times we went up and on separate occasions because like I mentioned, there is never a day with the same colors in the sky and that affects how the landscape looks as well. 

You’ll leave the facility physically exhausted and it’s an all consuming exhaustion because of the altitude, your body, the adrenaline, in addition to the overwhelming beauty you witness anywhere. One of the most beautiful highlights is when you leave the ski resort at almost the exact time of the sunset…you witness the drive all the way out onto the main highway that will take you back to the Salt Lake City area. It’s something that will stay with you forever. 

Sincerely,

A Distinct Woman