Hit me with your best shot… of vaccine

I am a Californian. I’ve never lived anywhere else. I was surprised-but not shocked- about the vaccine bill that passed today. I’m not going to go into specifics on what I believe and Why; I might be under surveillance. Just kidding, maybe. We could argue back and forth all day, pro and con.

The real issue is the impedance of certain well publicized and much beloved rights. You got it, our Constitution. The heart of the issue is the blind ignorance and disregard to Religious freedom. If a parent does not want their child to be vaccinated because it violates their beliefs that child will not be allowed access to a free and public education.

I understand the opposite end of the argument. Fear is a strong motivational force. Public health officials are claiming to be concerned for the public as a whole. However, nobody has the right to tell you how to manage medical treatment for your child except in the instance when abuse or neglect is suspected. Furthermore you or more importantly your child should not be punished by not being allowed to attend public school.

It is really sad and even more scary that we are allowing the fundamental rights that we throw in each others face to be taken away from us. Right in front of us.

All I gotta say is this:
Nobody puts Baby in the corner.

Always With Love,
Vanessa

The Secret Life of Bees

As I shared previously, I’m dealing with an ongoing chronic illness. The pain has become unbearable at times. I’ve taken to popping norco like tic tacs. Which I know is bad. So tomorrow I am venturing out to start a holistic treatment. I am going to be stung by bees.
I know some of you are probably thinking I’m crazy, my kids did.
But bee venom has been used for centuries in eastern medicine and many holistic practitioners have been using it for treatment for multiple sclerosis and rheumatoid arthritis. There is a chemical in the bee venom that is purportedly 100 times more effective than cortisone in treating inflammation.

At this point I’m willing to try anything. Wish me luck.

Always With Love,
Vanessa

Looks can be deceiving

So, I’ve been told that I appear much younger than my actual age. Which is great, what woman doesn’t like to hear that? And more so, I feel like it’s a reflection of the youth and vitality I feel inside. Being the mother of two boys, it’s this child-like nature that helps me to relate to them. I wanna be the “cool mom”.

Now, my true age is 34. And I see it. I see it in the grey hairs that I artfully cover in shades of black and purple highlights. I see it in the age spots and freckles that get covered under foundation. But, for all intensive purposes I’ve been told I can pass from 24 to 27 years old. Great for me right?

That is until I’m striking up friendly conversation with an elderly woman. She asks me if I have children, I say “yes, two boys, 14 and 10”. And then the sermon. “Well, praise Jesus you have left your wicked ways and are trying to do right by those boys”. I’m sure the look on my face was priceless. I literally did not know what to say. The nice lady was going on, about virtue and innocence, the devil and devil’s road. And then she looked at me “Why, child, you must have been 12 years old. Where were your parents?” Then I got it. The baby face. “I’m 34 years old ma’am.” “Ooh girl, you must have some colored blood in you. Good for you!”

Good for me indeed.

Always With Love,
Vanessa

Karma Police

It might seem cliche, but I do believe there is order that governs this universe. It is not always evident, but sometimes the connection can not be ignored. Good or bad.

On the other hand, I refuse to believe that my continuing bought of bad luck is cosmic punishment for cruelty I have inflicted on others. I’m a generally kind person, I do not take joy in other people’s suffering. So, where is this bad mojo coming from? Past life? Was I a tyrant, murderer, possibly one of the original members of Menudo? Wait, they’re not dead yet…

Things that make you go hmmm?

 

Quick thought on pain

I’m suffering from autoimmune disease. It is not totally clear which one at this point. I can’t remember what it felt like to be pain free. In 3 months my entire life has been reduced to what my current pain level is and how much mobility I have at that time. Even as I type this slowly on my phone, I can feel the stabbing pain in my shoulders, hips and a new pain in my lower back.

It sucks. It really does. I want my life back. I want to be able to get out of bed in the morning without excruciating pain and my son standing by with my cane.

I want to not rely on medication that is ruining my liver and making me vomit several times a day. I want to not worry about my kidneys, or how much damage they have already received.

And I don’t want to think about another specialist based on unexplained symptoms.

And I don’t want to see my boys look scared or worried when I’m trying to just stand up. That pain is indescribable.

Always With Love,
Vanessa

Girls, Boobs and Makeup

Ok, this can count as a concern and a complaint.
I am guilty of being a bit of a selfie addict. I mean, most of us are vain by nature. We are intrinsically driven to look good. So I love a good selfie. And I am developing a respect and love for the art of makeup. I happen to have a wonderfully talented makeup artist as my cousin. But I love my face, I love your face. I want to know what you look like. But if we have to chisel off 5 pounds of spackle, we have problems.

Boobs. Every girl has them. Some more pronouced than others. They can be the perfect accessory for any outfit. However, put them away.

When every picture you post of yourself looks like an episode of Rock of Love, put them away. If you are dangerously close to spilling areola, put them away. When every single shot is vignette around your breasts, put them away.

Not forever. Every woman likes to feel sexy. That is normal. But when you have more paint on your face then a circus clown and you are taking profile shots in a bra with your info announcing, “Proud Mom”, put a shirt on, wash your face. Then throw on a little mascara, maybe some lip gloss. Go pick your daughter up from school, tell her she is beautiful, show her what a lady looks and acts like. Teach your son what a real woman’s beauty is.

And love yourself. Self pride is great. Confidence and happiness in one’s own skin is a sign of self love. But being overly provocative and sexualized isn’t going to bring you happiness.

And frankly, you aren’t making other women jealous. You’re making yourself look unattractive.

And remember, 1 breast is always larger. So you may wanna lean to one side from now on.

Always With Love,
Vanessa