Chapter 2: The Night I Said Nothing

I don’t recall exactly what happened earlier that day. If I had to guess, we both went to work in the morning, he may have worked out after work, and then he decided to go to the weigh-ins instead of coming home for dinner and helping with the kids. 

The fighting schedule is hard to accommodate; excessive gym time, moody at home due to cutting weight, and out late nights afterwards to grab drinks. Meanwhile, I prepped his meals, I worked two jobs, and I cared for two kids.

Overtime, I couldn’t stand it. I absolutely hated his local stardom, and, after time, I just wasn’t about that life anymore. He already spent so much time away prepping for his own fight, why did he have to go to every weigh-in on nights when he wasn’t even fighting? Why was it so hard for him to just stay home and be a helpful partner?

At this time, there was a lot of things I wanted from him. I knew I wasn’t happy, but I held on for all the happy days. I lived every day between “it is what it is” and ‘’things could be worse.”

On this particular night, I don’t know what set me off, but I remember blowing up his phone and yelling all kinds of profanities and stupid shit. In retrospect, I was most likely jealous. I was feeling down on myself, had gained a lot of weight, I was depressed and tired, but did not know I had resources to get help. I remember being so angry, I found a bottle of shitty tequila and chugged it in utter self-loathing.

I remember wishing that something bad would happen to me. That I would somehow die of alcohol poisoning and that he would come home and feel really bad about it.

The phone calls turned into drunk, belligerent calls. I wish I remember what I had said, but something hit a nerve. And I know, whatever I said, was so rotten and horrid that he would have to punish me.

“You wait.”

That’s all he had to say to transition me into panic mode.  I don’t think I’ve ever sobered up so quickly. Great. Now, instead of accidentally dying, he was going to kill me.

I did the first thing that came to mind; grabbed his gun and locked myself in the bathroom.

I grabbed the gun because it made me feel safer, even though there was no way in hell I could ever shoot a person in the face. The safety was still on to prevent accidental fire. I just wanted to use it as a scare tactic.

I heard him coming down the apartment stairs, barging through the front door. I remember hearing his cousin trying to calm him down. There was banging on the bathroom door and then he kicked it open.

There I was. Standing there with a gun pointing right at him.

And then BAM. He grabbed that gun so quickly out of my hands. The flurries of punching ensued immediately after.

I am fighting, for what feels like my life, and he is fighting me like one of his opponents in the ring. He grabs the back of my head, and then my face and his knee have a quick meet and greet.

Somehow, his cousin manages to get him to stop. He’s yelling mean things to me as he is being pulled away.

I’m in shock. I say nothing.

All night, I say nothing.

He tells me to come to bed and I quietly obey. As soon as I close my eyes, it’s morning.

I don’t know if I slept at all, but I remember feeling empty and dead inside. The right side of my face was bruised and swollen, so I covered it up as best I could and went to work. The nurses in the clinic tell me that my face looks puffy. I made up some stupid shit about having an allergic reaction to a dirty makeup brush.

At home, he tells me he is sorry, but I just made him so angry.

Then he tells me he loves me. And just like that, all is forgiven.

*******

Isn’t this crazy? What in the drunk fuck? LOL No joke, I surprised myself as I was typing this out. Can you believe I hoped for accidental death? That I felt I needed to DIE just so that he could be motivated to be a better person? Isn’t this just the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard?

Stupid but very real and very, very valid. The feeling of worthlessness and emptiness, like I’m stuck in a black, dark hole and no one knows I’m there. I was invisible.

I recently watched The Maid, on Netflix. There was a part where she sinks into her couch and into a hole. I could not have related more to her at that very moment. My heart and stomach hurt for her and for myself. The moment where the last of your dignity is snatched away and there is just nothing. No feelings, no thoughts. Just silence and darkness.

The fascinating thing about domestic violence is that you can feel a sense of danger and security at the same time. Hated and loved, happy and sad, valued and worthless. All at the SAME FUCKING TIME. It’s no wonder people think we’re crazy.

So even in my moments of darkness, I loved him. Even after an incident this terrible, we went on and had one more child together. After a really bad day, he’d hit me with a love bomb. If you’re not familiar with love bombing, it’s a manipulation technique where they overwhelm you with love, affection, extravagant gifts, etc. Anything to get him out of the doghouse and me into his chokehold. But my gosh, when the days were good, they were GOOD. His love bombing had me weak in the knees and head over heels. He was sweet and said all of the things he knew I needed to hear. I loved him enough to believe that the happy days were the real version of him and hoped that he would stay around for good. The man that I needed and wanted so badly would show up for me. Because after all, he loved me, too.

I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I often forget this used to be my life. I often forget that I used to be this person. But I also want to point out that I am, very much so, the same person.

Growing up, I was smart, opinionated, confident. I had a profound sense of self. I was strong. Never did I ever think I could be a victim of abuse. I was not weak.

This is a common perception of victims of abuse, that victims are targeted because they are weak. Some studies show that abusers don’t target those who are vulnerable because there is nothing to gain from them. Instead, some abusers target people you least expect; the beautiful, the confident. These abusers enjoy the challenge of gaining control over someone who is vibrant and strong. *

I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I must have been glowing AF. LOL

In DV relationships, when things get really bad, we often find ourselves thinking about how WE can fix it. We exert so much energy trying to change things about US.

Maybe if I lost weight, he’d love me more.

Maybe he’s right, I was overreacting.

He wouldn’t have hit me if I had done things differently.

Stop this. WE ARE NOT THE PROBLEM.

The only problem that needs to be acknowledged is that we fell in love with a bad person. There is NOTHING you can do that will ever change them. Whatever you are trying or planning to try – spoiler alert – it will never be enough.

Why? Because the only time they’re satisfied is when you are hurting.  

If you’re reading this right now and are in a similar situation – I want…I NEED you to know that you are not weak. They pick people like us because THEY are weak. They lack so much love and light that they have no other choice but to shatter ours just so they can shine a little bit brighter.

Everyone’s DV story is different, which is the reason I share mine. I may not know you, but I know one thing is for sure…YOU ARE STRONG. One day, you WILL wake up and realize there is so much more in life. It’s going to be hard, so you’ll travel light. You will pack all of your love and kindness and gift it to someone or something that is more deserving of your time. Want to plan a trip? Do it. Go back to school? Get it. Reconnect with your friends? They’ve been waiting for you.

No. You have NEVER been weak. You have only been tricked to believe that you are.

You have and will always be, worthy of love. 

Love, nori ❤

Chapter 1: The Gas Tank

This entry was originally written in 2011. I am not sure why or what for, but I just recently found it. I laughed and cried as I read it. Honestly, sometimes I forget that this was my life and sometimes I’m hit with triggers that I didn’t know existed. Its amazing how much the mind can bury something so deeply and when it decides to release little pieces of it, I sometimes cry uncontrollably.

–

…she doesn’t notice how much time has gone by because she spent every day hoping for better days. One day she finally realizes that that day is never going to come. She realizes she just spent the last few years fearing for her life while embraced in the arms of her hero. -Except it wasn’t an embrace, it was a rear naked choke. And he wasn’t a hero, he was a douchebag. The only reason she was still there is because his arms were stronger than her entire body and she was afraid of what those arms could do to her. And trust me, there was no All4One in her house.. his arms DID let her heart break…everyday actually, along with some windows and doors. She remembers the first time; it was as quick as a snap and more painful for her ego than her face. But it wasn’t that bad and he said sorry and he promised it wouldn’t happen again.

It did. And no matter how painful and how bad the bruises, she kept going back to him. She must have liked it….

Until one day, she had had enough. This piece of shit didn’t fill up her gas tank. Whhaaatt??! HOW. DARE. HE.

She packed her belongings, her babies, and the little dignity she had left and ran away from her OWN HOUSE. Literally, her father OWNED the house! Who does that? She needed an easy out. She needed to start a fight because he was being SO good lately, so she started one. She packed her shit so quick and was gone before he got home.

You see, it comes and goes in intervals and sometimes you are met with months of no occurrences. You can finally breathe and think, “Wow, things are getting so much better. Everything I’ve hoped for is finally here. We could be a real family.” But you can’t. You no longer know what the triggers are. Maybe it’s alcohol, maybe it’s going out, maybe it’s because of how you cooked the chicken or the socks you bought. You think everything is good until you feel labor pains deep within your 9 month old pregnant belly, except you’re not in labor and those aren’t contractions; that’s a good right-hook to the kidney. You can hope all you want… but it’s never going to change. Or maybe it will?

I wouldn’t know. I was too tired and too scared to stick around and find out. To all who is reading this, please don’t get offended by my jokes; they are not meant to make a mockery of such a serious epidemic. This is my way of being able to talk about it. I laugh about it because I am alive to laugh about it. What people don’t know is that, although he is completely out of my life, there are still moments where I feel afraid. Living in fear is not the life to be living and we shouldn’t settle for that. We have to fight. Don’t fight for your partner. Fight for your life. for your safety. for You.

Whatever you do, just keep fighting. Literally, duck duck jab if you have too. If you’re gonna go out, you might as well go out with roar.

–

This is just a small part of my story, but such a big part of my life. This was my moment where, somehow, I got my voice back. It’s a moment you never forget.

Love, Nori

#AquinoGirlsinSF2019

Saturday April 20

1:30 am – Arrived in Sacramento, CA and waited for pick up by the Brother-in-Law in a van described, by my sister, as “pearly-beige”….He pulled up in a beige van. Laughed and joked about my bougie sister. To my surprise, in the morning, it was indeed pearly-beige.
2:30 am – Arrive at my sister’s house. Tired and full, but never full to stuff my face with Tinola. All the kids are sleeping. Debate whether or not to brush my teeth…. Brush teeth and go to bed.
8:00 am – Wake up
11:00 am – Brunch in Napa
8:45 am – Woke up and got ready for the day!
10:00 am – Cooked pancakes for the kids!
12:00 pm – Napa to sight-see with the family
11:00 am – No time for Napa, made new plans.
11:45 am – Went to Ulta. Quick photo sesh, courtesy of baby-brother-in-law, Erik.

12:00 pm – Ulta. 1:00 pm– Discovered Peet’s coffee….They are better than Starbucks!
1:30 pm – Still full from breakfast but went to Rubio’s for shrimp tacos. Because, why not?
3:00 pm – Went to Nordstrom’s Rack for deals. No deals were had, spent $800.00.
4:00 pm – Leave house to make it to San Francisco by 5pm
4:40 pm – Shit, we’re gonna be late! Rushed out of Nordstrom’s Rack to get ready!
5:15 pm – Fell asleep in the car but still managed to have tons of fun on Snap Chat!

6:40 pm – Parked and made our way to Orpheum Opera House. Found this cool wall and took a picture.

6:50 pm– Made it to Orpheum, took another picture, and immediately went straight for the refreshment line. Bashed about the ridiculously overpriced souvenir cup. Planned on chugging. ….Bought 4 cups. Found our seats.
7:00 pm – HAMILTON

10:00 pm – Drove back to Vacaville, home by 11:30pm.
12:00 am – Slumber party with Naomi. Told stories until we fell asleep.

Sunday April 21

9:00 am – Church
11:30 am – Poke Pho (because, F you, Nestlyne) Family lunch. Sat at the kids’ table and had an interesting conversation about what a HUG is. Haha
1:00 pm – Barnes and Noble to spoil my nieces and nephews rotten to overcompensate for all the time we spend apart.
3:00 pm – Science!! My sister did a couple of science experiments with the kids because, when does she not do science with the kids?
4:00 pm – Game of HORSE PIG (not enough time for Horse). We’re we even TRYING to make a basket?? Someone watching from the window may or may not have thought we were blind.
4:20 pm – Left for the Airport, back in Anchorage by midnight.

Quick turn-around trips are so exhausting, but time with my family is always worth it. I absolutely LOVE my sisters and I am grateful and lucky that we were raised so closely – Big shout out to my parents who forced us to do EVERYTHING together, including sharing a bedroom until we were well-into our teenage years. We didn’t grow up with the concept of privacy and we abide by the practice of “what’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine”…. Well, up until I became the bigger (and rounder) little sister and could no longer share clothes and shoes with them. Damn it.

Regrettably, I sacrificed a lot of good opportunities to spend time with my sisters. I had a plethora of excuses for not going, and in retrospect, they weren’t very good ones. My middle sister was stationed in Europe for a really long period of time and I didn’t even visit her. Not ONCE….Not even when she got sick. In 2010, my entire family went on a Hawaii trip, the same year we all found out were pregnant together – I didn’t go to that either. The big sister though?..She was ALWAYS around. A part of me (a very small part) gets jealous because her bond with my nieces and nephews are different. She shares a special bond with ALL the kids. She is, of course, Mama-Auntie. Sister-Time is too important to pass up and now, I’m saying HELL YES to all the trips and you should, too!!

TAKE ALL THE TRIPS!!! #AquinoGirlsin??2020, stay tuned!!

Love, Nori

Avengers Assemble!

If you didn’t already know, I am a huge MCU NERD. My son is actually named after a Justice League superhero, but we are, without a doubt, a Marvel family.

Growing up, I vaguely remember watching Christopher Reeves’ Superman with my parents. As a 10 year old, I remember tumbling in the living room every Saturday morning, complete with toy gun holstered in my underwear, as I watched The X-Men. That was the extent of my superhero knowledge. So, as the MCU movies released, every story was brand new to me. I knew very little about most of these characters and even less about Marvel.  So I leveled up. I started reading the comics, purchased a Marvel Bible, and did hardcore Marvel character research.

Girls can love Marvel, too! For a couple years, our youngest was obsessed with The Hulk after watching Avengers: Age of Ultron. This has to be one of my favorite costumes so far.

It’s hard to explain how these films make me feel, but do you ever feel sad when a movie ends?  I always feel sad. I feel sad that 1. The movie is over and the next release is usually a year away and I don’t know what to do with myself and 2. The characters don’t really exist.  I wish, from the very pit of my soul, that they existed so I can be an Avenger and we can save the world together. That’s how these films make me feel.  I am 110% emotionally invested in these characters. Who doesn’t love these movies? You don’t? What kind of person are you!? “I am Iron Man” – The last 10 seconds of Iron Man is better then an entire Justice League movie. The Hulk in Ragnarok? So funny! And let’s talk about Wakanda and the Black Panther movie..errr, I mean, movement. I’m not crying, you’re crying! And Yondu? C’mon man, best dad ever! -also still crying. Don’t even get me started on Gamora and Vision – yup, still crying. These emotion-packed movies make me a freakin’ HOT MESS. haha

Side note: During the off-season, I hope and pray that the next Justice League release is a win but I’m always utterly disappointed! I do have to admit, I genuinely enjoyed Wonder Woman and Batman vs. Superman, but JL films always fall a little (a lot) flat. I have high hopes for Shazam, though!

2010, Iron Man 2 release. Kal was gifted this costume by his Grandpa Johnny and wore it to the movies.

When Iron Man released in 2008, my son was three and from ages three to 10, he lived and breathed Iron Man. I didn’t even know what he looked like anymore because he spent all day in an Iron Man mask. After this, we were hooked. Year after year, together, we anticipated the next hero and now, eleven years later, this has become a solid family tradition. My family has watched nearly every MCU release, together, all of us! Can you imagine a group of more than 30 people, mostly kids, trying to navigate through a crowded theater? I don’t know how we did it, but we did! It’s definitely simple now, but when MCU first started, it was first come first serve seating. What the hell is that? How archaic! Haha We had to get there super early, wait in line, and run for seats as soon as the door opened; our older kids were the runners.

2012, premiere of The Avengers. Gino still worked a slope schedule, so we took the boys to see an 11:00 pm showing, on a school night, so they could watch together before he left. #parentingwin

Run to the middle row, not too high and not too close!

Save 12 seats..No, make that 15.

Here, use my jacket. haha

Somewhere in the MCU timeline, we stopped having to wait in line. I don’t remember when this happened, but I’m forever grateful for online tickets and reserved seating!

Needless to say, when it comes to a Superhero movie, Marvel or Justice League, we don’t play around. For most movies, I’ve always bought coinciding apparel; Walmart always has an awesome selection! I’ve been pretty lazy in recent years and, well, it gets pretty pricey so we’ve put a rest to any hero-wear. Still, every release is a huge family ordeal and we LIVE for it!

Seattle Pop Culture Museum. The Disney/Fox merger officially went through on March 20. Who else wants to see a new Fantastic Four? Especially after that HORRENDOUS 2015 release!

Years before MCU, Stan Lee had already made his mark in the comic universe. I’m thankful his legacy (and Disney) leave us with these movies to share with our kids. Stories not only about heroes, but about family, friendship, love, and loss. You the man, Stan! What a ride! 11 years of my life! 11 years of excitement, tears, and badassery, wraps up with the upcoming Avengers: End Game. I.CAN’T.DEAL! I’m devastated that End Game also means an ending for some of our favorite heroes, but super excited for what’s to come. One thing is for sure, MCU never disappoints! Bring it on, Phase 4!

Excelsior!

Love, Nori

Healthier Habits in 28 Days

Disclaimer:
This is not a blog about trying to be skinny. This is a blog about trying to be healthy by making better choices. I’d like to be very clear on that. This is also not a blog about how I feel about myself, as a person. Truth is, I don’t hate my body. I walk around with mad confidence because I know my body size doesn’t define me. Also, I have an awesome personality and a pretty cute face. hahaha

I have struggled with weight issues my entire life and have always had an incredibly round body. LOL It wasn’t until the summer before 6th grade, in the sweltering heat of the Philippines, when my baby fat just melted off.

The weight stayed off until a couple years after high school. I fell into a really sedentary lifestyle and packed on so much weight.  My 20’s was such a weird time, too. I was far more active, going to the gym was easy, but I was also ridiculously unhealthy – a lot of processed foods, a lot of alcohol, and yet it was much easier to drop five or ten pounds. Now, I like to think I’m a lot more cognizant of the food consume, but, I’m still not very active and trying to lose ten pounds requires so much freaking work.  It’s difficult for me to WANT to go to the gym. How do I compensate for it? By making better eating choices, like dropping starch and sugar.  At some point though, this becomes a struggle; coworkers bring cupcakes into the office and I think, “one won’t hurt.” Also, I’m Filipino and I want to have rice with my sinigang!  Is that a brownie? Put that in my mouth! When I limit my sugar intake, I become a monster.  In my moment(s) of weakness, I will buy 12 Mrs. Fields mini cookies and chubby bunny the shit out of them!

But, I understand my activity level doesn’t burn all the junk I’d like to eat.  AND, my body type and reaction to food is different compared to my sisters, who can eat carbs on carbs on carbs and STILL be small. I can eat a cupcake today and be 20 pounds heavier tomorrow. Life is so unfair!

Just kidding! It’s not unfair. I’m just extremely lazy and I don’t work hard when it comes to physical exercise. I’m not ashamed to admit that. I have witnessed many of my friends whose results are just, well, Amazing! How did they do that?  Uhh, duh, Nor! They put in work and practice discipline. Yep, I get it and I’m not hating! Get it, girls!!

Last week, I actually had to google “How to motivate yourself to go to the gym.” Sad, right? But I really need something or someone to help me be more accountable. If I don’t go to the gym, I mean, no big deal! Nothing happens! But this attitude makes me complacent. Therefore, below, I’ve compiled some of the tips I found from my internet search and for the next 28 days, I’m going to follow them as best as I can and I’ll hit you with update later!

  • Publish a blog about it
    • I mean, there’s nothing worse than making a public commitment and not following through. So, in 28 days, I can either tell you that I established better eating and work out habits or that I utterly and completely failed!
  • Dress for a workout even if you’re not feeling up to it
    • I’ve done this before….. I went to Costco in yoga pants?  
  • Make a commitment with a friend
    • Friend, Check!
  • Make a plan
    • Check! I’ll be doing a 28 day challenge starting today as a jump start to establish positive habits.
  • Go to the gym early
    • This is a going to be a toughie but I’m making the commitment, 3 times a week.
  • Visualize success
    • Got it.  Also, visualizing pizza and beer in my mouth.
  • Get rid of obstacles
    • Yesterday, my friend and I spent a good time of our afternoon meal planning. No more excuses for not being prepared and justifying convenient foods.
  • Reward yourself (or give yourself a consequence)
    • This is a hard one. How do you reward yourself for reaching your goals?  Instead of a reward, a friend is keeping me accountable by keeping my gym routine in check. If I miss a day, well, SLAP BET!

I promised myself before I turned 35, I’d lose 30 pounds.  Well, I’m 35 now and I have 40 pounds to go! LOL Building healthier habits starts today! Stay tuned!

Love, Nori

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before: Not a book review

Earlier today, I had a really candid and cool conversation with my bestfriend. Whatever we began the conversation with was a segue to a conversation of past relationships.

I’m not a stranger to bad breakups, cheating, and casual relationships. My 20’s knows these all too well! Can you say, Trainwreck?! Boy, I was a sloppy mess!

It’s pretty comical thinking about some of the things I did out of spite – Long break up letters, public bashing on social media, scandalous acts of revenge. Why didn’t anyone tell me I was such a horrible person!? hahaha There was nothing that anyone could have done to save them (and myself) from that kind of humiliation. I was an open book back then, too, but in a bad way!

Now that I am a little bit older, little bit wiser, I remember those moments differently. The moments that made me feel so incredibly bitter actually make complete sense now. My heart and mind were so clouded by heartbreak that I could never see the silver lining. Welp, I see it now, and there are reasons why those things happened. All the moments that made me serial-killer crazy, make me laugh in the best ways. I look at how far we’ve come in life, and I see your puzzle has pieced together nicely. Mine did, too.

To all the boys I’ve loved before – Thank you. I mean, I thought I was cool before, but I think I’m so much cooler now! Each of you had some kind of doing in that. I hope I made some kind of impact on your life, too. If you’re one of those boys reading this, I hope, as some of us now live as strangers, you remember me as kind and compassionate. As for me? I will never forget you. I’m lucky that you chose to walk beside me for a small part of my journey. I’m grateful for all of you.

Except ________, I fuckin hate you.

Love, Nori

My new daughter turned 18!

How do parents really feel when their child turns 18? Do they feel sad because their baby isn’t a baby anymore? Do they feel happy because they made a baby and were successfully able raise that baby into adulthood? Or are they sad because an 18th birthday is an undeniable sign that they are getting older?

I’ve had friends say to me, “OMG, you have an 18 year old!” And I’m here like, “I know!” When actually, I don’t really know. Yes, I know she just turned 18, but like, I just met her eight years ago!

I didn’t make her and she didn’t come from me. She and I were introduced and very quickly, I was forced to an early stage of pre-teen parenting. I had no idea what I was doing. I took it day by day, and really, let’s be real, I just wanted her to like me! I liked her Dad, so she HAD to like me or else my plan would be foiled! haha It was as if I was making a friend. I did not have the mother-baby connection and all those years of memories – from waking up for midnight feedings and diaper changes to losing her first tooth and learning how to ride a bike – I am a stranger to those parts of her.

I did get the parts where she was super emotional and extremely jealous that two little sisters were taking her spot light. What was I supposed to do? That part was really hard.

I got the part of her life where she refused to wear her hair curly because her natural curls were hideous to her. I told her this phase would pass and it did; she hasn’t touched a straightener in two years.

One of our favorites parts – the time where she spent all of her elementary years too afraid to defend herself against mean girls to the moment she defended herself by punching a boy who “accidentally” kicked her. She got suspended on the last day of school. Whoops.

I got the parts when she she started hiding stuff from and would sneak out of the house on secret a rendezvous to Beluga point with BOYS she DIDN’T KNOW.  (They didn’t do anything, in case you were wondering.)

I also got the part where she tried out of the volleyball team and didn’t make it. She cried. And when I dropped her off to her first day of work. I cried.

I may have not gotten to bury my face in her baby-powder-smelling neck or bite her chunky baby legs, but man, I really did get the best parts of her. My timing to trap her father could not have been better. haha

I don’t really know how parents feel when their kid turns 18. But me? I’m EXCITED. She thinks parenting is done for me because she’s an adult? Girl please, my parenting just started! I’m looking forward to the relationship parts, the college parts, the career parts, etc. The better parts of her life are yet to come!

Countdown: 67 days till Graduation

Please just f$#@! STOP: A Story About Child Therapy

Is it just me or is their a social stigma around therapy? If someone is in therapy or has a therapist, something must be severely wrong. For us, Therapy was our Hail Mary; the last possible play we had. It was a scary feeling, holding our breath because we didn’t know if it was going to work. We really needed it to work.

I find myself extremely lucky that we came to this agreement together, but it was no easy feat. I’ve always felt I had a good handle on my emotions; how to talk through them, how to find that invisible line between anger and sadness to describe exactly how I’m feeling.  My husband is quite the opposite; he doesn’t need to talk, he just needs time. Though I don’t like this particular style, I understand that everyone has different coping mechanisms and I respect that. But when it comes to our kids, my first course of action is to try to get them to talk me through their feelings.  My intent is to teach emotional intelligence; give them time to reflect, think about the “why”, and practice control. It’s hit or miss. I know it mostly feels like an interrogation, but it’s extremely important to me that they learn how to explain reasoning behind they’re actions! “Why are you angry?” “Who are you angry with?” “Why did you punch a hole in my wall?” “Why are you crying?” When I ask these questions, they better have some kind of response.  And I don’t care how old you are, “I don’t know.” is NEVER an acceptable answer.

Patient File

To maintain some privacy, I’ve decided to rename this child Patient Z.

Patient Z was probably around seven or eight when they began to break out in these hysterical crying tantrums that may or may not have included yelling and kicking. Honestly, it probably started a lot earlier than this but we wrote it off as normal “spoiled brat” behavior. We thought it would get easier with age, but it truly just got worse. The triggers were easy to point out at first: fighting with a sibling, not wanting to share. But sometimes the tantrums came because I told them to buckle their seat belt or because they couldn’t shower first since it wasn’t their turn; little concepts that they just couldn’t wrap their mind around. I’d say NO and the life as they knew it was completely unfair. On good days, they’re absolutely fantastic. On bad days, I wouldn’t wish them on anyone! I know, that’s so mean, that’s still my child! It was just SO exhausting! We would skip goodnight kisses with the other kids because we were so busy trying to get Patient Z to stop crying. It just wasn’t fair! They would sometimes cry loudly for HOURS. By that time, my husband and I are pissed, tired, and the only thing I remember saying is, “What is wrong with you? Please just f$#!@ stop already!”

This went on a few more years. There was one morning in particular when we got into a fight, I believe about a jacket; they couldn’t find their jacket and I was running late for work.  Patient Z was a mess, I was a mess. I went to work that day, emotionally defeated, crying. I was furious that they could not consider my work time more important than their damn jacket and I scolded the shit out of them before we left the house. And by scolded, I mean to say I did something that could possibly be illegal. haha Kidding…..Or am I?  Truth is, I LOST MY SHIT. Eventually the anger passed.  I thought to myself, “I’m the adult and I just can’t today….I wonder how they are feeling?” I was so sad to think about the bad day Patient Z was about to have at school because we started the morning so badly. In that moment, I wanted to leave work and pick them up so they can recharge at home.

In the same moment, I was like, “ Fuck that. I’m not going to let them win.”

Photo by Ralph W. lambrecht on Pexels.com

I’m not crazy, You’re crazy

Whoa. Power trip. But that’s totally what it became! We were in a battle of who can endure the longest shit and I was NOT going to let their ass beat me. Don’t cave! Don’t cave! But it was also in that moment where I felt like a mad woman and I started to feel resentment and that whatever was going on with them was beyond my husband and me. We were spending so much time trying to self-correct and 1) it wasn’t working, 2) it wasn’t fair to the other kids. So we made an appointment that same week and in a matter of days we were meeting with a therapist. The first appointment was a parent-only meeting to allow us to express our concerns. The following sessions were just for the therapist and Patient Z; they met for an hour every Saturday. Parent perk – the therapist and I would meet for 10 minutes either before or after their meetings, which provided me 10 minutes to share points of contention and improvements from the previous week. This was really just a way to give their therapist behavioral issues to address, but it felt like mini therapy sessions for me to verbally vomit all of my stress that accumulated that week. These always made me feel better.

Let’s talk about feelings…

How was Patient Z able to share all of their emotions so freely, from feeling jealous of their sisters to being anxious at school everyday, with someone they barely know? How was I not their safe person? As a mother, it pained me to think that I wasn’t able to be that person for them. But, IT IS WHAT IT IS. I can’t be angry or jealous about it. Without a doubt, I know Patient Z loves me and I’m glad we were partnered with an awesome therapist who built such a great relationship with them.  Little by little, we saw small improvements like, more positive attitude, less anger, shorter and quieter tantrums. After a year of therapy, well, of course, things still get rough, it’s never 100%, but we are going on 1.5 years with no major tantrums. Through therapy, they learned how to exercise healthier, more effective coping mechanisms; instead of lashing out, they took time alone.  I know some people may think this change is probably less from therapy and more from maturing and getting older. – While that might be true, Patient Z would leave the therapist’s office feeling great, refreshed, and, more importantly, IN CONTROL of themselves.   It is that exact feeling I need them to remember.

Photo by Victor Freitas on Pexels.com

❤

If you are ever on the fence  about therapy, be it behavioral, marital or any other type of therapy you think might help you, therapy was a successful solution for us and it might be for you. And if it isn’t? Hey, at least you tried and ruled it out.

Take care of yourself. Physically, Spiritually, Mentally, Emotionally…always.

Love, Nori

P.S. Patient Z was eventually diagnosed with ADHD. I’m sure a blog about this is coming. Stay tuned!…

What’s in a table?

“Dinner is better when we eat together” 

I couldn’t agree more. Our dining room is the heart of our home. For us,  so many aspects of our lives happen around our dining table aside from dinner! Like, blowing out birthday candles, lecturing the kids, homework, craft nights, planner parties with the girls, poker nights with the boys, and so much more.  Our old dining table was bought at Baileys for nearly $800.00; it was a dark, wooden table with leather chairs and one bench, just right for a family of six. When we first bought it, it fit our family of seven perfectly. We had assigned seating to avoid arguments and put our youngest and smallest three on the bench. Then, things started feeling a little crowded over the years. We heard the “scoot over, your elbow is touching me” and my personal favorite, “spot check” because no one ever wanted to sit in the middle. So when we moved into a new place, the dining room was my main focus and I wanted a table that could accommodate a bigger family. We headed over to Baileys and… just NO! Their biggest tables cost well-over $1,000 dollars and really, if you ask me, they are nothing spectacular. Affordable, good quality furniture is extremely hard to find in Alaska and I was super sad because Thanksgiving was right around the corner and it was  important to me to have something we can eat on.

Enter husband and a hammer! Why buy….when he can build?  We searched on Ana-White.com and picked our favorite farmhouse table. If you’ve ever been interested in building your own furniture and you haven’t visited her website, go there now.  Her plans are free, wonderful and easy! All plans come with full material lists, measurements, and step-by-step instructions, simple and thorough for beginner builders to follow.

Below are some pictures of our building process. Of course, for our first build, it resulted in some flaws, but we couldn’t be more happier about it. I love that this table didn’t break the bank; I love it more because my husband and I built it together.  This table is in for quite an adventure!

Love, Nori

Lumber: $140.00 (Lowes)

Chairs: $125.00 (found from different craigslist sellers)

Paint: $19.99 per Qt. (BEHR Chalky finish paint)

Helpful tips from first timer builders:

Follow instructions – Don’t skip steps! My husband would NEVER, but I most definitely would and it probably isn’t a smart idea. I found myself asking, “is this part really necessary?”  My bet is that if it made it to the instruction booklet, it probably is. LOL A lot of the plans we looked at are so thorough anyway, so follow them as closely as you can.

Borrow, don’t buy – If your garage isn’t stocked with the necessary tools, don’t go out and spend a couple hundred dollars for a tool you’ll only use once.  Check to see if your local hardware store does tool rentals or simply tap in some friends to loan you tools they already have.

Choosing paint – The paint I used is a Chalky-finish paint, purchased at Home Depot. This is not the same thing as chalk paint.   There are a plethora of brands out there so I did my research before I bought. The first brand I used was purchased at Target and the coverage and color selection was subpar compared to BEHR. Two coats was required for full coverage for the chairs, but sanding and/or deglossing was not required. You will also need to purchase a wax finish for sealing.

Cutting blades – Update or sharpen your blades. Dull blades lead to more wood burning and rough cuts.

Choosing planks – Try to avoid planks with bows in them. Before you buy, lay them on the floor to choose the flattest planks.

Use a planer – If you can get your hands on a planer, do it!  This is a step we skipped simply because we don’t have one. The result of not using a planer is that our planks are not quite evenly flat, which resulted in noticeable spaces between planks. Though it is not the end of the world, picking out old food particles is not ideal.

Making Impact

Hi!

I’ve always wanted to start a blog but never felt I had “a thing.” You know, that one particular talent that people want to read about, like interior decorating, sewing, traveling, and other awesome things I don’t do. LOL To me, my life has always been miserably mundane. – It’s totally not. It’s a big platter of chaos and I eat off of it with pride.  Matter of fact, I think my life is pretty awesome.

I’d like to share that life with you.  In the last decade, I stuck with privacy. I don’t post a lot on social media because I typically don’t like anyone in my business. And if you were friends with me in my 20’s, you’d know this is a drastic change. My dirty laundry was all over MySpace for all of Anchorage to see. I shared my business with everyone…up until my business got really bad. Maybe back then I chose to share only the bad things, or maybe, back then, my life only consisted of bad things.  Either way, as I grow, I realize I have a lot of things I’d actually like to share; areas in my life, both past and present, where maybe the advice of friends, and even strangers, could make a big impact.  

I’ll be sharing a little about a lot of everything, though a lot of the things will most likely be family –focused. I’m a mother of 5, 1 out of 3 sisters, full-time employee, and a living-breathing-walking SIM. My husband absolutely adores me, I hope, and we clearly thought five kids were not enough so we also raise two fur-teens. It’s inevitable – I can’t escape them.  But, I’ll try to change it up a bit for you! Happy reading!

Love, Nori

P.S. Maybe people will read the stories I share and maybe they won’t. But just maybe, my story will help at least one person in some kind of way.  Then, this blog would all be worth it.  Isn’t that why we are all here?

“A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.” – Jackie Robinson