homestretch

i didn't get much sleep last night. one of the books i'm reading said something about not being able to sleep towards the end of your pregnancy in preparation for the lack of sleep you'll experience once your baby is born. i call bullshit... if anything, women in the last few weeks of their pregnancy should be banking hours of extra sleep. but no!!! because sleeping is uncomfortable with a baby kicking and jabbing at your ribs or pushing their butt up to your lungs making it hard to breathe.

peanut will be here in six weeks, which is simultaneously exciting and overwhelming. i cannot wait to meet the human who is half fraser and half me but am not looking forward to all the things that must be done before he's finally in our arms. aside for all the stuff i have to go through and get rid of to make room for baby gear, there's, you know, labor.

i've read and heard firsthand from my closest girlfriends (and total strangers) about the ultimate female experience: delivering a baby. texts and conversations with my girlfriends, and women in general, are much different from what they were just a year ago. something about being pregnant invites other women to talk to you openly about their own pregnancies and give you unsolicited advice, which i'll gladly listen to. i want to know what they know but there are lines that shouldn't be crossed, and it's not what you may think. being told there may be pooping and tearing and lots of blood during delivery is very helpful, but telling me things like don't get the epidural or keep him whole comes across judgmental and is not okay. those are personal choices and it bums me out that some women feel like their personal choices are somehow better than other women's decisions.

my birthing plan (if you can call it that) is this: go to hospital. feel a cycle (or two) of contractions. ask for epidural if the pain is unbearable. get a c-section as a last resort. rest and recover. (hopefully) learn how to properly breastfeed and pump. go home with peanut.

the first three months of my pregnancy was awful physically; i was nauseous for six weeks straight and pretty much hibernated. there were the weeks of nosebleeds, headaches and constant runny nose during the second trimester. then throwing up in my mouth every day for a few weeks, an introduction to hemorrhoids and now not being able to sleep. i also drank 50 grams of sugar on an empty stomach for a glucose test four weeks ago and had to drink the 100 gram concoction this week because the results from peanut's first sugar high was a bit high.

i'm not complaining. in fact, i'll happily do it all again if fraser and i are lucky enough to get pregnant again in a couple years... that said, i will not feel bad asking for pain relief or possibly getting a c-section if it comes down to it as long as both peanut and i get to go home safe and sound with fraser. period.

oh. and i'm leaving the whole circumcision decision to fraser because, well, i'm not the one with a penis.

honestly, peanut has been relatively easy on me so far and i'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to be his mother. all that physical stuff sucks. yes. but i'm still doing pilates on my own 3-4 times a week and started walking a mile a day last week in preparation for the day he decides to come out. i'm 34 weeks now so he's in good shape, but i've been encouraging him to hang in there until may. (because i'm 38, peanut will be evicted by my ob in six weeks; he won't let me go past week forty. i'm hoping peanut comes on his own before that happens.) i feel really good and having him move around in there is really comforting in a there's-an-alien-i'm-in-love-with-growing-inside-me way.

musician and sassy have lovingly taken on my baby shower; bells insisted on sending proper invitations in the mail and have worked out the details with them. packages for peanut started arriving this week; fraser and i have been given all the big ticket baby items by friends and family already. we're requesting gift cards because we'll likely end up needing diapers, wipes and maybe formula the most, but we really just want to celebrate our growing family with the people we love.

my parents are coming from wi the week after my baby shower and throwing me another shower for my dad's family and friends in the area. more celebration. more love... we are so lucky.

just don't ask us if we're ready.

blood tests and ultrasounds

during my 16week checkup with my ob, fraser and i were surprised to learn that peanut has a penis. i sat up when my ob pointed to the ultrasound screen and told us we were having a boy. because i'm 38, we also met with a specialist for a more thorough ultrasound after a lesson on amnios (when they stick a needle through your belly button to get some amniotic fluid to test for genetic abnormalities) the following day. everything looked good. no amnio for us... our biggest concern was getting used to the idea that we were having a boy (not the little girl fraser had had his heart set on calling princess) and coming up with a boy name we both liked.

two and a half weeks later, three days before fraser and i left la to spend the holidays with our families, the receptionist at my ob's office called and left a message. i immediately knew something wasn't right; my heart pounded as returned her call and waited for an answer.

her - hello?
me - hi. i'm returning your call.
her - oh yes. the result of your 12th and 16th week blood test came back positive for down syndrome...
me - (WHAT THE FUCK?!?!)
her - it doesn't mean that your baby has down syndrome but you need to see another specialist.

that last part didn't register because once you hear your blood test came back positive for anything, your brain panics and automatically focuses on breathing so you don't pass out. i should say that i've never been a fan of this particular receptionist because she's impatient and not very nice, which i mindfully overlooked. my ob's office is busy and i understand her job is not to hold my hand and be my friend. i didn't expect, need or want any of that… that said, her blurting out my test results as callously as she did felt like a slap in the face.

i called fraser to tell him, went to work and sent texts to my closest girlfriends. three of them called me. i cried through my conversation with cheerleader, who i've known since middle school; one my hula girls actually made me laugh, which i desperately needed to do; and blondie, who is also pregnant with her first child, listened to me try and epically fail to articulate the dichotomy of my emotions.

at home, fraser and i sat on the couch and discussed our predicament. he wanted facts. i was drowning in feelings, emotions and hormones… with a  slew of girlfriends researching and sending me links, we determined that the chances of peanut having down syndrome was anywhere from 4-12% and agreed that we would try not to panic until we knew more. because we were leaving town for a couple of weeks in a matter of days, it meant  not being able to see a specialist and having to table our discussion until after the holidays. essentially, fraser and i decided to put on our big boy/girl pants, enjoy time with our families and figure things out when we got back. except for one thing.

fraser - nothing is off the table for me.
me - nothing? so termination is an option for you?
fraser - it depends… but that's a decision we would come up with together.
me - (losing it) i can't do it, love. i've felt him moving for weeks now.
fraser - okay.

let me be clear about something here. not terminating my pregnancy whether peanut has down syndrome or not is a deeply personal choice. i would not fault anyone/a couple for deciding otherwise. as bells put it, it's a lifetime commitment; she went on to say she would support whatever decision we made because fraser and i are the ones who will live with it for the rest of our lives… that's true for all couples and possible single mothers faced with pregnancy. neither choice is easy or better than the other.

the days that followed were a complete mind fuck as i tried to wrap my mind around the idea of peanut not getting the same start in life as his cousins and never being able to catch up. fraser and i often wondered what peanut would be like knowing that he's already who he is and our only job is to love, support and nurture him. i'd dreamed about being a mother my whole life. peanut is the realization of that dream and i would rather die than give him up… i was an emotional mess.

after fraser left for work that first morning, i found myself in fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. when sassy called to check in on me, hearing me say hello was enough for her to tell me she was putting on a pair of jeans and heading over. she sat with me that day and made me feel less alone.

the day after that, i reluctantly told my parents. my mom started to cry when she realized what i was saying as my dad looked at me through the screen of his phone (technology!) and steadfastly reassured me that peanut would be loved just as he is because he is one of us, which i knew but also needed to hear. when he turned to my mom and told her to stop crying, i asked him not tell her that and, through tears of my own, reassured them both that it is okay for them to be sad and upset and to cry about it if they needed to.

as cheerleader so wisely (and lovingly) said to me that first night, the cocktail of emotions i felt were all valid and were in no way indicative of my love for the child inside of me. we were both gasping for air in an attempt not to lose it anymore than we already had at the time and i held on to those words along with these: do not feel bad or guilty for feeling whatever you are feeling. you love him more than anything… and blondie's equally wise and loving words when i tried to explain how i was feeling: you don't have to explain anything. no one doubts your love for peanut. they gave me permission to accept whatever emotion came up and to not judge myself for any of it.

the holidays were a bit of a blur. fraser and i celebrated christmas in dc with his family and new year's with mine. we ate home cooked meals, shared stories with our siblings, played games with our nieces and nephews, laughed… i fell in love with my brother's three-month old son and barely put him down while we were in wi; his normalness simultaneously elated and broke my heart… two days before our flight back to la, i told fraser i was nervous. he admitted feeling the same. we may not have been openly discussing those damn test results but we were both keenly aware of my growing belly, which was a source of fascination and excitement for everyone, especially our little loves.

fraser felt peanut move for the first time during our trip.

we had an appointment with my ob hours after we landed back in la. he told us that the chances of peanut having down syndrome was 6% (automatically higher because of my age) and that the specialist we had an appointment with later in the week would be looking for soft markers in peanut's ultrasound. when we told him termination was not an option for us, he told us about another blood test the specialist could do if we didn't want to do an amnio... without guaranteeing anything, he mercifully told us he didn't see any anomalies in peanut's ultrasound that day.

three days later, i was alone at a specialist's office downtown to talk to a genealogist and get blood drawn for the other test. fraser had to work but we wanted the earliest appointment we could get; we'd decided against the amnio, which could cause miscarriage (the chances are small but we didn't want to take the chance. another personal choice), and hoped peanut's thorough ultrasound along with the blood test would put our minds at ease… and the prognosis was good.

specialist - okay. that's a great start. head looks good… spine is perfect… kidneys good… legs are normal… heart is great.
me - really? everything looks normal?
specialist - this is what i do every day. i have no reason to tell you anything other than what i see… your baby looks great. your ob will be very happy. i'll be surprise if the result of your blood test is anything but negative. you're my easiest appointment today... do you want to know the sex?
me - a boy, right?

after thanking him and the nurses in the room, i made a beeline for the private bathroom and cried for a few minutes. it was such a relief to hear the specialist say everything he did. my shoulders felt lighter with every tear of joy i released. i felt happy without worrying about peanut for the first time in weeks. it was incredible... i called fraser and my sisters to share the news before sending texts to my closest friends.

it's been two weeks, so i called the specialist's office today to inquire about the blood test from that day and am thrilled to report that peanut is officially "normal"; i absolutely cried after i hung up the phone with the lovely woman who took my call. fraser and i are forgoing further testing mostly because the results will not make any difference in our decisions regarding our son. we also don't have a history of devastating genetic diseases on either side, which is nice.

peanut will be here in four months. the love and support fraser and i received from our family and friends these past few weeks have been nothing short of a blessing... i'm not exactly religious but i do believe in the power of prayer and collective energy. we are so grateful to everyone who have said a prayer and/or sent love and positive energy our way. thank you.

i must also thank my husband, who never looked away from me as i cried or failed to hold my hand and kept me from completely falling apart simply by being by my side. i could not think of a better father for our son than fraser.

war against christmas?

i am a terrible gift giver.

i've never been good at it and especially don't enjoy it during this time of year.

please let me explain.

growing up in the philippines, i didn't get gifts for christmas (or my bday for that matter). the holidays were all about going to church, singing carols, eating late at night and visiting people we loved, who gave you a bit of cash on christmas day. the focus was on being together and when our family migrated to wisconsin when i was ten, the holidays continued to be about spending time with people we love. instead of getting up early on christmas morning to open presents under the tree, my parents packed us up in our van and drove four hours south to chicago, where we spent christmas eve and day going from home to home visiting family and friends. we would laugh and eat and laugh some more. gifts were rarely exchanged.

that's not to say we didn't get gifts. following american tradition (like having turkey for thanksgiving), my parents bought us new stuff around the holidays, which we often picked out and wrapped for ourselves to be opened for pictures on new year's day when we were actually home as a family. through the years, our family tradition stuck: travel to visit people we love for christmas and be together for new year's, which has made the holidays super easy now that we're all married. our parents don't expect us home for christmas but we better be there as one year ends and a new one begins.

as our family grew with spouses and children, gifting became even less significant. we've been picking names for secret santa for so many years i don't even know when we started. i love this so much because i'm literally responsible for one gift... and we all write wish lists, which fyi get shared later and later every year because everyone's super busy. also, we're adults and buy ourselves what we want/need when we want/need them.

my nieces and nephews all get gifts from everyone.

well, everyone except me.

more explaining.

because i'm the only one no longer living in the midwest, i'm the only one who travels home for the holidays. i take at least a week off from my life during this time to be with the people i love and, instead of gifts, i like to take the kids out for a movie and/or a meal. while i'm there, my focus is on spending time with my little loves and happily babysit them all for the week... i have a sister who gets it and one who pointed out that i only have four nieces and nephews last year. why are you so bad at giving gifts? she asked.

oh, i don't know. maybe because it costs fraser and me $1200 in plane tickets (plus two weeks' worth of time off from work) to spend the holidays with both sets of families? i've spent some serious dough on flights to visit my family over the years and consider it money well spent.

i do get it though and gifts have been ordered for our nieces and nephews this year… and fraser's family. and the our two secret santas for my family.

which brings up another thing: every single boyfriend i've had came from families who really do it up on christmas and fraser's family is no exception. the moms of these families will always say it doesn't matter if i bring gifts but i know better. i've been condescendingly spoken to more than once and asked when do we ever not do gifts? even after a boyfriend's reassurance that it was fine for us to show up with one gift for each person instead of two dozen (not kidding. i swear that woman goes to the toy aisle at any given store and buys everything in the girls' section for her granddaughter). it's uncomfortable and wasteful and i'm happy to report, fraser's mom is not like that... now that i think about it, only one mom really was. phew! dodged that bullet.

listen. i love the holidays. i love how festive people and places are during this time and appreciate those who go all out to celebrate the ones they love. that said, the holidays are not all love, laughter and joy for everyone. not everyone has the means to buy their loved ones the latest toys, gadgets and fashions. even worse, not everyone has loved ones to share the holidays with; people lose loved ones to death, divorce and tough luck throughout the year and this time of year is no exception. and must be especially hard for them.

i'm no angel but i do pride myself in being a good, loving person. i smile at people when i pass them on the street and treat people with respect. and while i may not buy gifts, i make sure my friends and family know how much i love, support and appreciate them as often as possible. every day when i can. i meet friends for coffee and give long hugs. i remind anyone who will listen that they have a story to tell and that their story is important. i teach my students (and my nieces and nephews) the value of kindness and compassion. i show them love through my words and my actions.

for the record, i have nothing against gifts as long as they're given out of love and joy (so nice!) and doesn't feel like an obligation (don't do it!).

i am not good at gift giving but love, laughter and joy? those are my jam.
i am never shy about showing love, laughing loudly or spreading joy.

six months to go

two and a half years ago, i started this blog to wrap my mind around dating again in my mid 30s after a ten year hiatus. six months in, it evolved into a falling in love blog and, another six months after that, a wedding blog. just shy of a year from our first wedding anniversary, fraser and i found out that i am pregnant (yey!) turning my focus to motherhood.

but first things first. pregnancy.

real talk. getting pregnant was not easy, especially in a society that tells women in their early 30s to start thinking about it before it's too late. women who are lucky enough to get pregnant after 35 are automatically considered high risk regardless of their health. that would be me. we found out about my pregnancy a month before my 38th bday. we'd been trying for over a year.

the truth is, i didn't think it would take us so long. in spite of close friends and acquaintances who've had difficulty getting pregnant, i blindly believed i would be an exception rather than the rule. i have a sister who had multiple miscarriages before having her children and one who naturally had twins without complications. still, i naively thought it would be relatively easy. after all, i'd taken good care of myself and am totally in love with my husband. of course, it would happen.

just months before i took my very first pregnancy test, fraser and i realized we'd been trying for almost a year and getting my period began to take its toll. my initial excitement, which had turned to nonchalance (in an attempt to cover how hard it was hitting me emotionally) became impatience. frustration. anger. there were times i actually cried when i got my period. it didn't make sense and i gradually became sadder and sadder about it. at some point, i asked my closest friends not to bring it up unless i initiated the conversation because it hurt to talk about it.

the fact that i am pregnant is an incredible gift. fraser and i know many other couples who deserve the same and haven't been yet. to say that i'm grateful for the life growing inside of me is an understatement. i have to admit, however, that i had no idea what i was in for as i hoped, prayed and dreamed about being pregnant.

pregnancy is no joke.

i am in awe of every woman who's survived pregnancy. every single one. to be fair, i recently worked in an environment where pregnant women took indoor cycling and/or yoga classes like it was the most natural thing to do. a few of the instructors taught these same classes throughout their pregnancy, inspiring roomfuls of people to sweat it out and/or keep their zen. i admired these women for keeping up with their normal workout routines as i took their classes or worked out alongside them. today, i would give them all gold medals.

i have to be very careful here because i don't, in any way, mean to complain. that said, fifteen weeks into my pregnancy, i'm finally beginning to feel like myself again. working out exhausts me. i take pilates twice a week and have to nap after. i need more sleep than i've ever needed before. there were days when i'd sleep for ten or twelve hours a night and take a two hour nap in the afternoon. luckily, my schedule allowed for such luxuries; i cannot imagine holding a full time job and going through the first trimester.

with all that sleep, you'd think i'd feel refreshed and ready to take on the day. not so. i was nauseous for about six weeks straight. i never actually threw up but always felt like i was on the verge. having nausea 24/7 was numbing. everything smelled really bad. eating became i chore, which is disappointing because eating is one of my favorite things in the world. i assumed i'd have cravings for weird food combinations and enjoy consuming them. sadly, the opposite happened. i craved nothing. in fact, i lost my appetite but was constantly having to eat in an attempt to avoid full-blown nausea… the nausea eventually subsided and i only got nauseous when i waited too long to eat (thus the non-stop eating).

headaches are my new thing. for awhile, avoiding salty foods later in the day and drinking water helped. unfortunately, that's no longer true. i wake up with a headache every morning these days no matter how much water i drink. even though i'm not sick, i also have a runny nose and occasionally get nosebleeds. my appetite is still not the same but at least i can eat meat again. the only thing i've really craved is sushi, which i can't have. (yes. i know i can have california and tempura rolls, but i want the real thing. raw salmon. raw albacore. raw yellowtail.) oh. and i feel like i'm gonna throw up whenever i bend down now. all normal symptoms and not all in my head. i have a friend who is due three months ahead of me and sis-in-law is a month behind me, who both assure me that all of it is normal... and that more is coming.

i had conversations about pregnancy with each of my sisters recently. bells, who hated being pregnant, teasingly asked me how it was going, knowing full well how blindsided i was physically. she laughed knowingly as i told her how much i didn't enjoy it in spite my excitement about being pregnant. ate, on the other hand, dismissed my inquiry when i asked her why she didn't tell me how hard pregnancy was, simply saying that she kept her focus on the end result: a baby.

my baby.
our baby.
peanut.

when i think about peanut, i am overcome with love. gratitude. even a bit of grace… i'm not gonna lie, i worry every day that i'm not eating enough of a variety, am drinking too much coffee (i'm allowed 12oz a day) and not enough water, am not sleeping enough or pushing too hard in a pilates class. i talk to peanut and imagine what she looks like (fraser commented the other day that we're going to need to pull a major switch if peanut is, in fact, a boy because i've been calling her a girl for weeks now. for the record, he wants a mini version of me and i want a mini version of him, but i have a strong feeling peanut is a mini me).

bells told me that the love she has for her twins is beyond anything she'd ever known. knowing how much of my heart belongs to my nieces and nephews, she assured me that my heart will expand and love in new, inexplicable ways. i can't imagine loving anyone more than i love my family, my friends and fraser, but i look forward to giving peanut everything that i've got.

it's been a long time since i've posted one of these. the past several weeks, i've simply been too tired. the months before that, however, i felt too defeated by the whole trying to get pregnant thing. now that i am, i will power through the symptoms and keep my eye on the prize: peanut.

our very own little peanut.

success 101

yesterday was my maternal grandmother's birthday. she would have been a hundred.

growing up, i was her obvious favorite and she was mine. when she got really sick several years ago, i didn't go to see her. she died after a massive surgery a few weeks later and, still, i didn't go... i didn't want to see her like that and made every excuse not to. at the time, i truly believed i was doing the best thing. i see now that what i did was, in fact, the best thing. for me. i allowed my fear of losing my beloved grandmother to be a selfish excuse to not be there for her or my mom.

i haven't been back to the philippines since we celebrated my grandmother's 85th birthday fifteen years ago. there is a part of me that never wants to go back because she won't be there anymore and her death will be real... obviously, it is but i haven't been back there to see it. to experience the world of my childhood without her. it breaks my heart just thinking about it.

her picture graces my messy desk. i cry when i look into her eyes. her love for me shines through her eyes even in a photograph. i have many memories of her protecting, encouraging, teaching, defending, spoiling, taking care of me. she used to braid my hair every morning for school and was so proud of everything i did. i often wonder if she'd be proud of me today.

there's an exercise we do in the non-profit i work in that asks our teenage students to stand before their peers and declare the things they love, hate and dream. it's the last exercise we do in each class before they start writing their show because it reminds everyone in the room that, in spite of our differences, we are all similar in our desire for love, reasons for hate and dreams for the future. to be successful is almost always a part of everyone's dreams for themselves. most of our students equate making a lot of money with success. the more enlightened ones focus their dreams on being happy.

wouldn't it be wonderful for the world to recognize being happy as an essential part of a successful life?

my sister, bells, travels the world with an expense account and has beautiful three-year-old twins at home (4bed, 3.5bath, 3car garage) with her husband. we had an interesting exchange over the phone recently.

me: i babysat the other night. so much fun.
bells: i wish i did random, fun jobs like you.
me: you make six figures, live in your dream house and have healthy twins. i wish i had that.
bells: it's not all that. i wish i live in warm weather.
me: true. i wouldn't trade being in shorts in february but hustling is not glamorous.
bells: it sounds fun.
me: going to europe sounds fun.

the grass is always greener on the other side.

that said, i've never seen bells happier than she's been since having her twins. i've also been much happier lately... would bells like to live in warmer weather and have more time to sing and dance? of course. would i like to make more money and be a working actress and a mother already? absolutely. but the fact that we're both happy with what we have (my 1bed, 1bath, tandem parking with fraser is awesome) makes each of us a success in our own right. it looks different for everyone. what makes each of our lives beautiful and worth the fight is our individual passions and the happiness we create when we live up to our potential.

i dream of a world where success is not measured by the amount of money you make or the things you possess but how kindly you treat yourself and others, how much happiness you hold in your heart and how much love and creativity you express to the world.

my grandmother loved to sing and dance. she had lots of friends and was a pillar in our hometown; she was really good with money. i'm very much like her with a bit of my paternal grandmother's compassion and hustling ways. they were both successful in their own way... i hope they're both proud of me.

permission to celebrate

my birthday month was hijacked by my wedding this year. as happy as i am to be married to fraser, as awesome as our beach wedding was and as easy as it would be to write about it all, i am taking a step away from it to honor my inner birthday diva for this post.

i've had quite a year since my last birthday and fraser did a great job celebrating me this year. normally, i'd plan a themed gathering for it but, with all the wedding hoopla (bridal shower, engagement party, wedding week), i decided to forgo my birthday party... bad idea. i remember fraser's mom telling him to keep our wedding anniversary and my birthday separate from each other. i agreed with her but didn't take the advice myself. lesson learned.

fraser did everything right. he took the day off from work. we picked up coffee and walked through a farmers market on our way to the beach the morning of my birthday. we sat on the sand facing the pacific. i walked to the water and felt the ocean kiss the the sand under my feet. three things i love all before noon... he made pulled pork sandwiches for lunch and took me to a bakery we've been meaning to try. we ate pastries and laughed until we cried over our own silliness. he bought theatre tickets and sat through a one woman show because i love live theatre. it was awesome. all of it... still. i would've loved the themed gathering i've grown accustomed to.

it's important to celebrate yourself and, what better way to do it, aside for a party, than by giving yourself a gift? here, ladies and gentlemen, is a list of the best gifts i've given myself over the years. often on my birthday but not always... may it encourage you to celebrate your awesomeness.

gym membership. i was twenty-four, in la and no longer taking dance classes or walking all over campus. power walking wasn't cutting it so i joined a gym, where i took step aerobics, salsa and yoga. it also introduced me to spin/indoor cycling, which i fell in love with. i eventually got tired of the same classes and ended my membership. i did a few rounds of p90x... my gym membership was instrumental in keeping me in shape and healthy. i made a habit of working out regularly, which i am grateful for today. i'm all about spin and yoga these days. it feels good to sweat. whatever physical activity gets you going is what you should do. for you.

roth ira. i gave myself two thousand dollars for my twenty-fifth birthday and have been paying myself first since. because i've never had a traditional job, it was important that i set up an individual retirement account. my only regret is not starting one earlier... there's a commercial with three business men eating at a diner. outside a couple of teenage boys are touching the smooth surface of a beautiful classic car. it cuts to the waitress in the diner yelling at the boys to step away from her car and the business men raising their eyebrows at each other... i was that server (except i drive a sensible honda civic); a manager of mine used to say that i was the richest server he knew. i don't do anything  (everything is automatically taken out of my checking account and put into various funds for my roth ira, emergency fund and wedding/condo fund) but i do live below my means. i am not writing this to brag. quite the opposite. i'm writing it to let you know that it's possible to prepare for your financial future on any income, especially when it's just you. do it asap. for you.

lasik. an asian girl walked into the restaurant i used to work at wearing a jean skirt and a tshirt. her hair flowed down her back. she wore little or no make up. i told her she looked pretty because i'm a big fan of giving compliments to strangers. she told me she'd just 'rolled out of bed'; i decided to get lasik in that moment. i'd worn glasses that only got thicker in time since middle school. i don't wear makeup. i wanted to roll out of bed and look like that girl did... it cost an arm and a leg because i went to the place where cameron diaz and nicole kidman had theirs done. worth every penny.

bold, gold ring. i love jewelry and was devastated when someone broke into my apartment a few years ago and stole all of my jewelry along with my roommate's. i had a lot of fashion jewelry but also had several of my grandmother's pieces and ones my parents had gifted me. my family and friends have since rebuilt my collection, which consists of pieces similar to ones i used to own... i'd been looking for a ring to represent my transformation over the past couple of years before i met fraser. i wanted to reward myself with a bold piece of jewelry for facing my fears, taking a leap and welcoming change. when bells showed me an inch long, egg shaped rose gold ring with diamonds last spring, i knew i'd finally found it... fraser proposed just weeks after i bought my transformation ring and i was afraid i'd automatically favor my engagement ring. not so. fraser could not have picked a more perfect ring for me, but my transformation ring is something i chose to celebrate my growth. it is equally important, beautiful and meaningful. do not be afraid to invest in anything you love. for you.

permission.  to continue to pursue acting. to make time to workout. to quiet my mind with yoga. to eat potato chips then chocolate then potato chips again. to laugh out loud. to call my mom. my sister. any one of my best friends. to say no and not feel guilty about it. to let my body rest. to meet friends for lunch, coffee or a movie. to cry whenever something touches me: a book, a movie, a commercial, whatever... to quit my job. to leave. to start over. to try online dating. to jump into the unknown. to trust my gut and allow myself to fall in love. again. to get married a year from the day we met. to forgo tradition and get married on the beach instead of in church. to have a small wedding. to ask for what i need. or want. to express my anger and frustration. to ask for help. to live in love and gratitude. to do anything. for me... you can do anything. for you.

i never would've given myself any of the gifts i wrote about, or anything else for that matter, without permission. the amazing thing is, you don't need anyone else's permission. just yours... i always ask a handful of people for their opinion, especially when it comes to big decisions, but the choice is ultimately mine to make, which is simultaneously awesome and scary. awesome because i get live the life i choose. scary because i am responsible for whatever happens... that's the rub, i guess. not being able to point a finger and blame someone else if you make a wrong choice. then again, who's to say whether it's right or wrong? give yourself permission to take a chance. maybe your heart will break or maybe it will soar higher than you ever thought possible... if you make a mistake, own it, learn the lesson and move on... be okay with making the same mistake more than once. our heart is sometimes stronger than our minds... ooh. watch out for your ego (that's another blog but be wary of your ego).

give yourself permission to celebrate yourself. at least on your birthday... i try to celebrate my strength, beauty and loving heart every day by being kind to myself. it doesn't have to be a big deal but be aware of what you think of yourself. it is life changing.

i strong. i am beautiful. i am loved.
i am always cared for and supported.
i allow great things to come to me.
i am rich. i have abundance. i am grateful.
i deserve love and an acting career.

go on, beauties. celebrate your awesomeness. permit yourselves... for you.

bride and feminist

fraser and i had to fill out a questionnaire for our beach wedding: what colors we want on the canopy, what flowers we want for my bouquet, how many chairs we need, what songs we want to hear... do we want the officiant to say "who gives this woman away?" to my dad when we reach fraser? huh... do we?

fraser: that doesn't sound right.

me: what do you mean?

fraser: you're not property... (sarcastically) i'll pay two shillings for the girl!

me: (laughing) two shillings? really? where are we?

fraser: three shillings!

we decided against it because it doesn't sit right with us, but that doesn't mean that couples who choose to have those words spoken at their ceremony are wrong to include that very familiar phrase. in fact, i was really touched when a dear friend's mom replied "her father and i do" when the female officiant uttered the question a couple of months ago. my friend's dad passed away a few months before her wedding and it was a wonderful way of including him in the very special occasion.

i'm a big fan of making your own choices and am grateful to live at a time in history when my choices, needs and opinions are as valid as his, especially since we'll be legally bound to each other in about a week. women before me sacrificed themselves in order for women to have the same rights as men today. unfortunately, we're still not there... feminism seems like an odd subject to tackle just days before my wedding but it actually feels appropriate.

it's simple really. feminism is about equality and supporting other people's personal choices. there's always a debate about being a stay-at-home vs a working mom. why? no one questions when dads go to work. in fact, there's an expectation for a man to provide. why? maybe he wants to stay home with the kids and she wants to go back to work. it's up to them. not you. not me. not us... unless, of course, we're the couple in question.

in my ideal world, i'm an award winning actress in demand for my work in film, stage and television, and loving wife and mother to happy, healthy children, while fraser runs our household. i've shared my vision with my future husband whose only concern is not having time to go to the gym. we agreed to hire a nanny and a housekeeper. problem solved.

feminism does not equate man hating. i adore men and am completely in love with one, who may decide he doesn't want to be a stay-at-home husband after all. that's okay! we can always figure out something else keeping in mind what would be best for us and our family when the time comes.

look. i can be as girly as they come. i wear short shorts. i put on make up. i like to feel pretty... i think it's nice that fraser opens the door for me and pays when we go out. i've been the girlfriend who paid for everything and one who didn't ever pay. i pick up our groceries and open doors for him when i get there first. i watch football. domestic violence angers and saddens me. i don't drink beer. i like tequila. fraser doesn't drink at all. i make breakfast for us every morning and do our laundry. i never take out the trash. fraser does a lot of the cleaning and cooks amazing dinners... when asked who wears the pants in our relationship for the newly wed game at my bridal shower, fraser proudly told my friends that we each have a leg in; i said i did after running everything by him. close enough.

i support gay marriage, pro-choice and equally respect stay-at-home moms and women who choose not to have children to be business owners, doctors, hourly employees, teachers, receptionist, chefs, dancers, writers, actors, engineers, yogis, musicians, inventors, bakers, designers, directors, grips, assistants, executives, comics, whatever... i respect and admire women who to do both... the thing is, people doing the same job with the same experience and qualifications should earn the same wage/salary regardless of gender, race, religion and sexual orientation. period.

am i a feminist? abso-fucking-lutely.

am i hyphenating my name because i'm a feminist? hell no.

i'm hyphenating my name because i love my last name and, thanks to the women who fought for gender equality, i have a choice. i'm also marrying a man who supports whatever decision i make. almost makes me want to straight up take his name, which i really like... maybe i will... probably not but whatever i do will be up to me no matter how often i ask for fraser's opinion, which i appreciate and value.

my choice is equal to his.
i am worth as much as him.
our marriage will be a partnership.

hells yeah. i'm a feminist... and i'm gonna look stunning on my wedding day.