I Hope You Never Lose Your Sense Of Wonder

Momma Told Me: If you forget to smile, you're living life the wrong way.

I think I'm going to be a bad mom. Don't get me wrong (I've been told) I'm a killer Aunt, but there's just something about being a big kid myself that has me a little worried. Everyone always says as long as you get the bills paid, and keep the lights on, you're doing good. But, let's face it, it's a big sticky mess of a world out there, and you can't always eat ice cream and Popcicles.

My reasoning, however, says quite the opposite. I argue that, when you CAN have cupcakes for breakfast you should. Not every day, of course, but if times are good, and even when times aren't, it's still okay to smile for no reason at all. Find those moments and make them happen; you deserve it, right?

Part of being dubbed a 'living rainbow' and having an obsessive attraction to color, is my childlike demeanor when it comes to sweets. Take something sugar and make it adorable, well, I will squeal like a kid in a candy shop. So I'm almost 30 and want to jump up and down when I see a clown cone, so I'll sit and carefully plan my 'attack' so I leave the face perfectly in tact for last, so what? If this little thing leave me joy than I have no problem being the Aunt letting her niece eat ice cream for breakfast, or the crazy (not pregnant) woman running into the Baskin-Robbins doors minutes before closing, to get her 'fix.'

I could tell you stories, and have, about how my dad was the 'ice cream man,' growing up. He'd drive all over the counties repairing soft serve and shake machines his company manufactured; and whenever we'd walk into one of these establishments I was so proud to order dessert and have something sweet with my daddy. I know for a fact that has a lot to do with my love for ice cream, and the clown cone in particular, but most of all, the people around me, growing up, taught me to never lose my sense of wonder.

So I'm here, today, to tell you to eat the brownie tonight, go jump on your children's trampoline, sing in the car when nobody's watching, and always put extra syrup on those waffles. Make every day magical! What's your 'magic.'

What Daughter Says: Just because you aren't a kid doesn't mean you never have to feel like one again!

Identifying Relationship Habits That Prevent Healthy Relationships

Momma Told Me: The most important person you need to listen to is yourself.

The funny thing about habits is that they are not only hard to break, but most often require a long and painful recovery.  We do perhaps hundreds of things a day that seem meaningless and unintentional; when in truth, they are processes repeated over and over. Whether it's the harmless preference of replacing the toilet paper roll over versus under, or the quite possibly deadly decision to buy another pack of cigarettes. Humans are creatures of habit, and we will repeat actions to the same negative outcome over and over without thinking twice. Yes, that's the definition of insanity, but in a way, we're all a little insane, right?

Where are you going with this, Jenna? You see, I've recently identified a habit of mine that is actually quite detrimental to my emotional health, and it all began at 17 when my very fist 'stars in the eyes' love broke my heart on Halloween. I had moved across the country to be with my high school sweetheart and 5 months later there I was standing in a group of our friends watching him take the hand of a cute little bumblebee and tell me it was over. Not only was I humiliated, the sudden change in our relationship status came as quite a shock, I was not ready to get over him- In truth, I'm not really sure when I did, finally, let go of the pain of that breakup. Only recently did I see a status online alerting me that he was marrying that bumblee, and did I feel a little piece of contentment to know my heart had not broken for nothing.

Unfortunately, ever since my self esteem, and worth, has never been quite where it was in those golden Summer months before my teenage world fell apart. Sure, I dated again, and for quite a while. I fell in love and at one point thought I could be perfectly content living exactly how everything was for the rest of my life. There was one major roadblock, the relationship would never allow for children because only part of the partnership wanted a child. For years I thought it didn't matter; some happiness was more important than none. But I was young, and after bringing up my unhappiness and feelings on the issue for almost an agonizing year, I at last realized I was never going to be heard.

This need to have my needs, my desires, acknowledged quite literally drove me to marry someone who, for the most part looking back, was a stranger. My husband said all the right things, we had common interests, and he wanted a family. The only problem? Even just months after our quick wedding it became clear my husband had no intention of making a family, and that  was more of a necessity to satisfy his very religious family at a precarious stage in his life. While I knew the reality of this almost immediately, all the positive feelings were still there, I did not hate him, in fact I loved him. After all, I was 1/2 of the adult equation that made vows to someone I so clearly hadn't known. So, for 3 years we were 'married' and it looked nice on paper, and to family and friends, but at home we were no more than roommates.

Towards the end, in the final year, I slept on the couch most nights, pleading for movement on a divorce- but he didn't want to tell his family, so I went along. I told him I was going to start dating, even though I was in conflict that I was still married I at least needed to feel human and experience another human connection, even if it wasn't physical. My self esteem on that final day was non existent. I was at my lowest low, and I may have never quite fully recovered. How could a woman in her twenties be married and not feel the touch of the man she called her husband, yet saw every day, not feel unattractive and guilty inside? My head told me these things were not my fault, but my heart couldn't understand those words.

Flash forward to yet another failed relationship- one in which I inevitably felt responsible for the person I was with. One in which I loved the other person deeply, but was not in love with them any longer. For months I had shed tears in silence trying to make my feelings known to someone who simply didn't want to accept them as real. I cared about this person and they refused to hear my unhappiness; they told me they had nobody else, that they couldn't make it on their own. And I felt guilty beyond any needs of my own. So I pretended nothing was wrong. Until this relationship, I got angry- If they would not hear me say it's time for space, then perhaps I could make them hate me enough that they would leave on their own?

It's funny how we can look back at history and see ourselves slowly building these habits. In the beginning they look completely harmless. For me, being unhappy, so long as I still felt loved was acceptable from the very beginning. Let's face it, it's not easy to end any relationship, romantic or not, without the feelings of anger and a good reason- but there is such thing as an unhealthy relationship. People don't have to be physically harming one another, or making conscious decisions against each-other to neglect. Sometimes we simply try to hold onto the good because we don't want to face the bad. And when you are unhappy in a relationship, of any kind, for any reason, it is not a healthy relationship. Yes, you can work through smaller things and repair- but it is impossible when both parties are so firmly holding onto the frame to repair the flesh.

Have you ever ignored your happiness in a relationship (could be professional, romantic, friendship) for the sake of keeping the relationship going?

Daughter Says: Breaking habits can be hard; but making new ones can be so much healthier.

Sayonara! I'm off to #BlogHer2014! My Blogging Resolve

 

Momma Told Me: Happiness is being yourself.

I have been blogging for over 4 years now with near 2000 posts. Wow. Just typing that makes me relive the journey!

I didn't start Momma Told Me to make money or get products- I started it to have fun and get my voice heard. People outside the digital screen know, I like hearing the sound of my own voice and what better place to express myself and be heard than online on my very own website? Many of you may know that I now work with a wonderful company called #CollectiveBias where I have a contractor's job helping put together blog campaigns and coaching other bloggers. The lovely Shelley Zurek of Still Blonde After All These Years referred me and I reluctantly applied to the community after her 4th or 5th nudge. Outside of being a blogger I have long read and admired, Shelley is sort of a blogging mentor to me, and I have to send her major props.

But back to me and my story. I have to say, I never wanted to make money blogging or even get attention from it. *insert shocked gasps* Yes, yes, I know, blogging is very competitive and monetized these days. But, for me, blogging, photographing, writing, and story building is something I love with a passion. And doing something you love, for money, or for another person by proxy of their own needs (especially in advertising) generally sucks the fun out of it. That's why I've remained, and still am, committed to putting the same amount of rainbows, humor, and love into every post that goes up on Momma Told Me.

If you're a loyal reader you know that I will spend the same amount of time talking about toilet paper as I will a $400 vacuum cleaner, or the embarrassing public restroom incident last week. Every post is full of me, genuine 100%, and has the same amount of effort and heart as the next; paid, sponsored, or just mindless rambling. Why? Because I love to blog- I love meeting all of you online and off, and I love having my own space to just be me. It may be unconventional, I may turn down a gazillion sponsorships or ads because they just don't excite me in a way that I feel can be genuine- but you KNOW if it's on Momma Told Me, it's real.

And, having said that, this slightly nerdy blog introvert is about to head to the largest U.S. blogging conference for networking and business relationships. Why? Because I've been doing this for 4 years and it's about time. Whether I go and learn only a handful of things, make just one single partnership, connect with only a few new bloggers, it will have been worth it. Every moment, every connection, every door opened will be one I chose, and one that is right for me. And that, is why I am excited about #BlogHer2014!

What Daughter Says: While bills have to get paid, ultimately, doing what makes you happy is far more rewarding than any paycheck.

***Please note Momma Told Me will be on hiatus until Monday July 28th, when I return from BlogHer. #BloggerConfessions is scheduled to post regularly on Thursday July 24th.

When Life Hands You Lemons, Don't Make Lemonade- Make Pie!

This just might be my new favorite picture. Ever.

Momma Told Me: When life hands you lemons, be sure to count them. You just might have more apples than lemons!

Momma's advice really is golden because, much more than turning the bad into good, life is full of ups and downs, and it's important to know how to balance them. Let's face it, sometimes, no matter how many lemons you have, you just don't want to make lemonade. When things get a little too much to bear, instead of diving into it further to find the bright side, why not focus on the good right alongside it? Momma's biggest solution for negative thinking was always apple pie. No, no, not a literal apple pie; though I could have used a slice now and then.

You see, sometimes the not so nice things are squeezed all over the good, and it's hard to pick out the apples under all that lemon juice. It's times like that you need to stop fighting it and appreciate the pie in front of you. Life isn't perfect, if it was, I'd hardly be the individual I am today. We do learn from our mistakes, but more importantly, hopefully, we appreciate our triumphs all the more because of them. So, the next time it feels like it won't stop raining on you, grab an extra large fork and take inventory of your life as a whole. Chances are things aren't as bad as they seem!

This week is my uncle's grandmother's 90th birthday. I specify her relation for you, my readers, but to me and my family she is simply 'Grandma Bea.' She has been a grandma in my life as far back as I can remember, and I suspect she always will be. This is also a good reminder that motherly figures are not born by blood or titles, but the roles they take within our lives that impact us so very deeply. What does any of this have to do with apples, lemons, and pie?

Yesterday we drove out past Los Angeles to attend a surprise party for Bea. The event was a smashing success; many drinks were drank by all (much to the venue's delight) and several embarrassing  drunken dance moves were captured on film for the next generation. It was a great day, but it was also a reminder that my mother's mother, my blood grandma, wasn't there. Just short of a 2 years from her passing, this was a particularly poignant event, as one of the largest family gatherings since she left us. My youngest cousin cradled her newborn daughter, my other cousin is nearing the end of her schooling. Time continues to move on, but I do not think she is missed any less.

After the early morning, long drive, and ample reflection, I decided it was important for us to get out and unwind. Sabrina's (11) parents were attending a military ball, and we had to honor of entertaining her for the night. At Sabrina's request I agreed to make this journey one to a very large and popular children's arcade local to us. It was late when we arrived (9PM), but still a Saturday.

The place was trashed and the staff was lacking. As adults in a kid's arcade, with a tween, we go to places like this to actually play the games. We don't place tokens in slots to mindlessly bang on things or spin wheels. Unfortunately literally every game we approached seemed to be failing or dysfunctional in some way. We spent the better part of an hour and half chasing down a poor attendant on the game floor, waiting for him to refill tickets and clear jams. There were a myriad of other kerfuffles I was not pleased about to; two young children literally bumming tokens off paying guests while their parents watched, food being smashed into the floors as employees chatted as if it was acceptable, and the icing on the cake- paying 1800 tickets ($18) for a chintzy fiber optic lamp that did not even come with batteries and, upon arriving home, proved not to work.

I could go in depth about all of the things that went wrong with our visit, but the truth is; it was still worth it. With 20 minutes to closing, we still had a large portion of unused tokens (after all half the games were down all together and the rest were mindless simulators). Determined to make pie out of lemons and apples, I drug our group to a teeny tiny photo center where we could get black and grey 'sketches' printed for a token a piece. I haven't laughed so hard in so long, as I did forcing those last tokens away. And we have some adorable keepsakes too! Do you often overlook your apples when it's lemon season?

What Daughter Says: Making pie takes longer than lemonade, but ultimately satisfies the soul so much more!

How I Measure Sucess: In Which I Show You How Yo Make Pinata Cookies

Momma Told Me: If you can imagine it, you can make it.

I've never had any formal training in the culinary arts, or photography; there was a time when I considered an invitation to the Le Cordon Bleu program at the Art Institutes, but we hardly know what we want to do with our lives at 16, do we? My entire life, much to the dismay of teachers and professors, I have, however, been enamored with the ability to create. My mind, which has been defined 'mathematical' by countless battalions of tests through my scholastic years, operates in a very linear manner of problem solving. However, my heart, it draws me to that which is unconventional. Whether it is a collection of words, a palette of flavors, or a moving photograph; that which I create needs not touch a single soul to speak to my own, and I am happy.

I get bored easily, when it comes to my creativity, and I greatly dislike the boundaries set by 'clients' in the creative field, so I decided a long time ago that I could not create for the sake of selling and earning a living. I create simply because it is the purest expression of me, and often because the creations I envision typically pose some sort of challenge for myself. You see, and inspired individual can create. Whether the vision in one's mind translates to their canvas, music/food/photo/painting, is another subject entirely. We measure creativity and art, as a body of people, on the success of interpretation. But the ironic truth is that most masterpieces thrive in the true success that it's original intent; the concept that the artist first saw in their own mind, still remains very much a secret.

Yes, what I love about creating is that there can truly be no judgement on success or failure. Never have I posted a photo or written a post and stepped back to read a comment that made me feel any less. Opinions are like, well, you know what they say, everyone has one. We, as individuals wouldn't be very astounding, or functional, without them, now would we? I create in many mediums, but I always create for one person and one person only, myself. The fact I choose to share some of my creations with friends, family, or readers, is not a need for validation. It is the execution of my own vulnerability. The display of something I have made that before, did not exist. And the triumph is not in approval of others, but my confidence in knowing that I had an idea and I made it be.

Again, I do not consider myself a professional in anything, really. And, especially when it comes the this tiny space of the internet I claim as my own, my blog, I expect it to be nothing more than that, my own. I began blogging because I wanted to be heard, but I quickly realized that what I really wanted, was a chance to speak. Momma Told Me has, most of all, become an outlet for me to grow and discover myself. Yes, even in reviews and recipes, I learn more and more about who I am every day. It may come as quite the surprise that, in real life, I am truly quite shy. Growing up I would never consider opening a sketchbook to share something I'd drawn, for simple fear of judgement. The existence of this very website, and me in my raw form, is a testament to how far I have come.

People ask me often how I took a photo, or how I thought of a recipe, a project, an idea. I'll be honest, I have no idea how I manage to pull off half the things I do on a daily basis. In fact, much like these cookies, most of the time 'perfection' is the farthest aspect of execution from my mind. I have no desire to agonize over every little detail of a recipe's presentation, or to sit and photo-touch smudges and smears. Life is beautifully imperfect. Just like the frosting running from between the layers of my pinata cookies, it's also very messy. We, as humans spend an immense amount of time building layers in hopes we'll create some overall image of approval, but, if we stop to take a second look, it's not hard to realize that the moments really worth living for happen when we reveal what's truly inside.

It's funny, really, some of the accomplishments in my life I'm most proud of have never been recognized by anyone but me. Does it make me wish I'd never invested myself in them? Does it make me spiteful? Absolutely freaking not! I feel in life the only true measurement of success of failure is whether one tried. So, the next time you feel like you are not as good as, not good enough, or or just plain not good at anything; remember that you had the courage to try, and that, in itself, makes you a success!

What Daughter Says: Your biggest critic is you. Isn't it time to change the way you judge yourself?