Insecurities

There are never quick fixes, at least never in the way you think. Leading up to the surgery I thought once I get this surgery done I would lose all this weight and then I will be healthy again and I’ll look amazing. Right?

Wrong!

I imagined my body looking the same as it did prior to kids all fresh and smooth. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work out that way. The thing is, when I look in the mirror I don’t see all my progress. I am so clouded by the flaws I still see that I just can’t see it. The stretch marks are still there, the loose skin is just getting looser and my hair has started to fall out. I know that there are things I can never change. But it doesn’t stop me from reading another new article on stretch mark removal or reading all the ingredients listed on the Rogaine bottle for the millionth time.

I’m human. I have flaws and I know that. But every so often, I get this uncontrollable urge to Google quick fixes. (But that’s human, too, right?) I know there aren’t any and they wont work but what harm can it do? This is why I need to write. To force myself out of my old habits of quick fixes and get myself into real life changes.  If I’m publishing things, then I’m more likely to hold myself accountable.

I know I’m not alone; there are people out there with way worse insecurities than me. 62% of women all over the world feel insecure about something. That is roughly 2 billion women in the world. So I’m not alone. And neither are you.

For so long I have lived mortified about what has happened to my body. I’ve always blamed myself not enough lotion, not enough cocoa butter and probably could have eaten better as to not gain the weight. So many could have, should have, would haves.

But in the end, this is now me. In all my wonderful squishy glory.

But with all my insecurities, still all in my own head. I want to be skinny, strong, and have great skin. I don’t think those desires will ever go away, nor do I think it’s realistic to expect to achieve those goals to a point where I’m 100% satisfied. I can own them for what they are. I can be skinnier and stronger if I got my ass up and to the gym. But that’s not the point and it won’t change the root of the problem.

When I look in the mirror, I just want to be proud of what I’ve accomplished.

If there is more I can do like going to the gym. I will do those things. But 16-year-old Jen with a perky set and flat tummy is a far reach. It will take me years to get over the body I feel I’ve lost. But the fact is, it’s a mental problem, not a physical one. And it’s a habit that I may never stop. But if me writing about it can help me own it and feel less of the shame (or help someone else) then I guess half the battle is won.

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5 Things Dementia Didn’t Take

Deciding to bring grandma into my home was an easy decision to make. I didn’t stop to think what it would do to, or how it would affect, my family. Thankfully, my other half Carlos, was always on-board with the idea but honestly, neither of us knew what we were getting into or what dementia had done to her.

Dementia took my grandmother in ways I never knew possible. Being forgetful is something we all go through in spurts. But she forgets that I’m her granddaughter. When she asks me about my ‘sister’ I know she actually means my mother (or maybe aunt). She will sit in her room alone in the dark asking herself why she is doing it. She burns and ruins pots and lets the sink overflow. She made herself a sandwich and put the ingredients away in the pantry. We find mysterious cups throughout the house but if you ask, none of them are hers. She wakes up crying at night because she doesn’t remember where she is, so I run out of bed and lay with her till she falls back asleep. She has peeled the paint off the walls. She has left the house while I’ve been in the shower and she hates when I tell her no. Her independence was everything to her and for her own safety, she no longer has it. And she can’t understand why.

To be candid, I cry when I think about the future; Her future in particular. She never spoke of death or what to do if she gets sick. I don’t know what she really wants because it’s too late to know for sure that’s what the real her wants. And though it hurts to say, that’s how it feels.

Because even though I know she’s in there, I never fully know when she’s the one talking or when it’s the dementia.

So we have no plans if she gets bedridden or suddenly comes down with an illness. I don’t know what she wants if the worst happens. I didn’t plan to be making these decisions, but they will be mine to make one day. And sooner rather than later. We’ll take it day at a time and cross each bridge as we get there. So she’s just … with me. She will always just be with me. I don’t think I could ever let her go. And that’s a kind of plan in itself.

So while I lament what I’ve had taken, and more tragically, what she has been robbed of, I have to bring a sense of optimism into my fears. Because dementia will overpower me if I let it. And if she doesn’t let it overpower her, I can’t either. I’ll focus on something that will allow me to push ahead. I know it’s only going to get worse, so for now, I need to remember how blessed I am to have her.

And here’s what Dementia did not take:

1. Her Love of Life. I know she only gleams how serious her condition is from time to time; but she still sees it. All the while, though, she lives so carelessly and remains so in love with life. When we go to new places she gets excited and she loves our walks in the evening. We sit out on the front porch and chat with the neighbors as they walk by and they love seeing her. She has made so many new friends and the kids next door adore her so much so they call her grandma.

2. Her as My Rock. She still lets me lay my head on her lap as she strokes my hair. And when I cry, she cries no matter my reason for crying. And even if I lose that as time goes (and I know I will), I will have that foundation built into who I am as a person. I am stronger because of how she built me. I will withstand any storm because I’ve had her to show me how. She will always be my rock – Even when her dementia is the force I’m standing against.

3. Her ability to love. She tells me she loves me she every morning and every night. And anytime I walk out the door without her, I hear her prayers for me under her breath. She loves my children. She loves our neighbor’s children. She loves everyone. She isn’t bitter. She isn’t jaded. She’s a kind person with a loving heart. And, again, dementia may one day take that from her, but it will never rob the world of the kindness she’s spread during her life.

4. My Memory of Her. This may sound petty, but when dementia riddles the mind of a loved one, you’ll take every victory you can. Dementia can take her memories of me from her but it will never take away my memories of her.

5. Her. I guess what dementia didn’t take is the essence of her. Who she is is as a person is still inside her, deep down (sometimes it’s deeper than others). She is still her under that cloud of smoke and I still see her there. I know she’s there, even when she doesn’t. When she’s lost, I will help her find herself. As much as I can. For as long as I can.

Dementia and Alzheimer’s break the hearts of the loved ones suffering as completely as they break the minds of those who suffer. Research on Dementia and Alzheimer’s is so important to any advances in medicine and maybe one day, a cure. We can’t put a price tag on the significance of finding a medication that could keep my grandmother’s mind her own for even just a little longer. If you are able, please consider donating to the Alzheimer’s Research Foundation.

A Week Using Deva Curl

OK, I want to start off by saying this is not a paid sponsorship I will always be trying new things because that is what I do. I want to start doing new things for my self and getting this mane under control was one of them.

So after seeing tons of ads on Instagram for Deva Curl I posted asking my friends what was the big deal. I got amazing feedback from a few girls and they were all amazing. So I decided what the heck let me go check it out. After looking through the Deva Curl website I came upon the curl quiz. So the curl quiz is a few basic questions about what kinda of curl do you have? what kind of curl do you want? hair type and scalp type? pretty basic. At the end of the quiz, it shows you a list of your recommended products.

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I’m not going to lie at first the prices turned me off. So I started to look for alternatives but they were all priced the same and some had alcohol as one of the main ingredients. I don’t know a lot about anything but my hair is already dry I can’t put alcohol in it. So I dragged my 14 yr old son to a land no teenage boy wants to go with his momma ULTA. I was pretty surprised by the size of the display but I was excited to get this hair under control. I didn’t spend as much money as I thought because they have gift sets that are roughly the same size as the regular bottles so I ended up saving about $20.

The next day I took pictures of my dry damaged hair with no product in it and I wanted to cry. I really never noticed how bad my hair was because I never gave it a second to breathe I was just slathering on product on top of product until I had these hard curls. The pictures below will make you ill and I apologize to all my curly headed girls I know I was wrong I will never let my hair get this bad again.

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eeekkkk.

Well, I washed my hair on day one and I have to say I was surprised that the shampoo had no lather. I know it says no later on the bottle but I thought a little something but nope nada. The reason for no lather because it doesn’t have any Sulfate, Paraben or Silicone. The smell was light not strong like most shampoo’s and the same goes for the conditioner. I purchased 2 styling products because they were apart of the recommendation. On the first day, I tried the styling cream and it was the only thing on my hair. I was so nervous all day at work I kept touching my hair and the humidity was insane so by the end of the day my curls were intact but my volume was at 100. On day 2 I tried the Ultra Defining gel and I have to say so far it is my favorite.

By day 3, 4 and 5 I had it down pact I kept to the same routine alternating between styling creme and defining gel. By day 6 I decided to get a little crazy I used a little of both my styling products. I was headed to a theme park with my kids so I wanted to make sure through all the rides my hair was intact. Let us just say it held up by 10 pm my hair still looked great. So today is day 7!  I washed my hair and just let it air dry naturally and did not use any product and this is the picture below.

 

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Insane ?? You can see such a difference just a few days did to my hair. I honestly can not believe it even the way my hair feels. I am actually getting some real curl back.

What’s changed for me besides my amazing hair? I have not used a comb or a brush in 7 days. During washing and conditioning, I’ve stuck to using just finger combing my hair and its been enough. Also, my hair isn’t falling out as much when I finger comb it I think I was literally ripping my own hair out with the brush I know so bad. The acne on my forehead and the sides of my cheek are also clearing up. I don’t have those gross and greasy products running down my face when I sweat,  or rubbing off on my pillow and getting on my face at night. Which is something I never even thought was even a possibility?

Still more to do though. I think a lot of us have heard of the Deva Cut, it’s like this precise cut for curly headed girls curl by curl. Well, I really think I want to try it and see how the cut helps with my curl journey.  I wish when I did my curl quiz it would have offered me some of the deep and leave in conditioners they have. I will be trying those as well, I kept to my suggested list which I regretted after I saw all the amazing reviews on all their other products.

All in all, it may be pricer then what I have paid in the past for shampoo and conditioner. But I did the math for myself and it is really not much of a difference. An extra maybe $10.00 a month added to a routine the significantly change how my hair looks in mere days. I still have a long way to get my curl completely back so keep following my Curl Journey to see what I try next.

 

Why I’m a bad friend

Over the weekend two of my very close friends texted me, one of which I haven’t spoken to in more then a year. I cried a little both times when the messages came through.

I missed them, and I didn’t even know it until that moment.

How focused on my life had I been that a mere hello text would leave me in tears over these two women? Talking to them both was so refreshing and made my heart so full. Clearly, I’m a bad friend and I don’t deserve them.

I have about four decently solid friendships that I have had for more than a few years. I don’t live near any of them anymore, and I think we are starting to, or have already, drifted apart. As is expected, when we grow up, we change. These friends were those I had when I was a still just a kid. They knew kid-Jen and don’t really know me as I am today. Because even as adults, we continue to grow and evolve. I don’t have the same interests I had even just four years ago. Nor do expect them to have their same interests.

And then, how do you keep a friendship when you are so far away? I can no longer run over to your house for a glass of wine and complain about life. I can vent on a chat or through texts, sure. I could even call and get at least their tones and inflections. But it isn’t the same kind of escape we used to have with each other.

Plus, I don’t want to push the blame elsewhere; I know that I’m lazy and I just don’t try hard enough. I fully understand that is the biggest reason we’re drifting (or have drifted) apart. Adult friendships take more work and I just haven’t put the work in for these relationships. And it’s genuinely sad to think about.

Because I miss them, everyday.

And I didn’t realize it until this weekend. It’s not an overt and obvious feeling. I don’t consciously think “I miss her!” But it’s still there ever day. It’s in the feeling of loneliness when I see besties on the street or the way I relate to the girlfriends on my TV. I hear something that will remind me of an old friend and not consciously remember why it brings a smile to my face, but I know that it does. I’ll hear a song that reminds me of her and it will lift my spirits. But I don’t call. And I don’t text. I don’t even always know who’s memory it was that made me smile.

I don’t mean to be a bad friend but I can recognize that I probably am. I never know if I’m doing too much or not enough. I have always been the friend who’s broke. So when everyone is planning trips I had to either borrow money or op out of going. I’m inconsistent; I will talk to you every day for a month and then forget to reply to your text messages for the next month. I make plans and last minute I decide I just don’t want to go.

Of course it doesn’t help that I have a partner who is an introvert and he doesn’t understand my need or want for solid friendships. So I feel bad when I ditch him to hang out, anyways. (Not that it’s his fault that I’m a bad friend.)

Then something happens and it hits me like a ton of bricks falling on my heart. I haven’t called, texted or responded to messages from someone I care about. I say to myself, “Make sure to call after this shower!” But I don’t remember and another day passes and I forget once again. Then a day turns into a week and then a month and then I’m just too embarrassed to face how long I’ve forgotten. Then that awkward feeling that maybe I shouldn’t even try at all anymore takes over because I’ve ruined a good thing by losing touch.

I want my friends back!

I want to have solid relationships with people who love me. I want those moments that I had in the past again. I know that I have to make and effort to mend the time we’ve had apart. Yes, we’ve changed and I know that we live apart, now. But all those excuses I’ve made for being a bad friend have to turn into reasons why I should try even harder to be a good one.

So here is to me trying harder to call and text; trying harder to listen and pay more attention. I love you girls and I always will.

Bringing Grandma Home

Just after Thanksgiving 2016, my mother called me in tears. She was worried about her mother, my grandmother. She calmed down long enough to tell me she just had a conversation with my grandma but something was off . They had their normal conversation and about half way through, my grandmother was rushing to get off the phone, but in an awkward way. When my mother called back again it was like the first conversation never happened. I was over due for a drive into the city and my mother had a trip planned to visit my grandmother anyway. So the following weekend I drove down from Pennsylvania, while my mom flew in from Miami.

When we arrived, all of our fears came to light.

She knew who we were and where she was but you could see in her eyes that every so often that knowledge would disappear. After much deliberation, we finally decided that grandma would come stay with me. I was closer to NYC so we could still come see relatives. I couldn’t drive up with her that same weekend, so my mom stayed behind packing up her studio apartment, and getting her ready for the move. I decided I would take the Amtrak up on Dec 10th and rent a u haul truck to bring her and her belongings back.
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But my train ride there was met with more worry. While on the train, my mom called me to tell me grandma was in the hospital. The guilt hit us both hard me not being able to come up sooner and her just leaving a few days prior to take care of my younger siblings. Once I arrived to NYC, I headed straight to her apartment. I had a key so I just let myself in. I noticed most of the boxes my mother had packed were all open in a disarray. My heart sunk and I headed to the hospital.

When I arrived at the hospital the staff was relived to see me. They knew so little information because she wasn’t communicating well even with an interpreter. Which confused me because she was fluent in both English and Spanish. As I walked into the room she perked right up smiling and was so excited to see me. The doctor and nurses looked stunned. This wasn’t the same patient they had earlier. She began to explain to the hospital staff who I was and about my children. I looked over at the doctor and asked why was she there, they explained she came in with a fever and were keeping her under observation to ensure she didn’t come down with Pneumonia. I explained to the doctor that I had just come down to bring her home with me.

Though she wasn’t formally diagnosed at that point, we still realized she couldn’t live alone.

The doctor agreed if she was better by Sunday, I could pick her up and take her with me. Since it was already late and visiting hours were over, I headed to her house to start packing. While going through her things I realized that she was becoming a bit of a hoarder. I started feeling guilty as soon as the realization set. How did I not see the signs sooner? I packed well into the night and at 7 am, her friends stopped by to see if she was back home. They were the ones who noticed she was sick and took her to the hospital. I told them I was here to take her with me to PA. I made a group of old women cry like children. They had lived in this building together for well over 10 years. They scheduled all the doctors appointments together and did all the food shopping together as one. And that’s when I realized something kind of beautiful.

I never noticed there was anything wrong because she had the best friends taking care of her.

It was beautiful and sad at the same time. Obviously, I’m glad she had people she could count on when I wasn’t there for her. But because they were, I didn’t realize how much I was needed. I’m just grateful it was only a fever that sent her to the hospital. Her friends helped me pack and throw out garbage till it was time for me to head back to the hospital.
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At the hospital, grandma was getting better but she was surprised to see me each time.

She didn’t remember I had been there the night before or about the plans we’s discussed. We went over it together and spent the day taking snap chat selfie til it was night again. The next morning my cousin and Ex-Husband (of all people!) showed up and helped me rent a U-haul truck and together we loaded the truck to the brim. Once we were done I thanked them both a hundred times and headed to the hospital in the U-haul truck. It was Sunday and  I had picked out a nice outfit for her so she could be nice and clean for our 3 1/2 hour trek back to her new home. As soon as I got to her room her eyes brightened up. She still didn’t remember we were leaving but not even that could bring me down. I spoke to the nurse about a time of release for my lady and she told me the doctor still hadn’t decided if she would be released that day. She still had a low level fever and he didn’t feel comfortable sending her home.

Once the doctor arrived we received the unfortunate news she wouldn’t be going home with me that day. Although her fever was all gone they wanted to make sure she it wouldn’t rise again. I had a 21 foot U-haul truck parallel parked in a busy Bronx street on Grand Concourse and now we weren’t going home. I was beyond frustrated at that point. I had kids at home and work with the next day I wouldn’t make it back for either. We spent the day together talking, hanging out and calling everyone we knew. When it was time for me to go, I promised I would be back in the morning. I’d already turned in the keys for her apartment, so I slept on my cousin’s couch for the night.

I couldn’t sleep a wink worrying about her.

I woke up at 7 am the next day and spent the day trying to convince every doctor and nurse I could find to let us go. By 3 pm the doctor said if we wanted to go home we had to sign a refusal of care waiver. So after talking to my mom, aunt and uncle we decided it was time we headed to PA. So I signed her out and grandma was free. Once dressed, and out the hospital she was a different person. She was surprised and excited when she saw the truck. She couldn’t believe all that I had done in the short time she was in the hospital. But we laughed about the weekend we’d had and we literally drove off into the sun set.

Things since then have not been easy but everyday we learn something new. She’d rather snack then eat a meal. She is the cleanest person in the house, 2 showers a day on a regular day, 3 or more if its hot out. Music fills her spirits, she still loves to dance and wont ever skip a beat. Bringing her into my home has been a joy and I have never once regretted it.

 

This isn’t the first time I’ve written about my grandma (and it wont be the last). A beautiful soul by the name of Dawn allowed me to contribute a piece on her blog so if you want to read that head over to The Divine Life Blog.

Thank you to My amazing friend Jenny for always making sure my grammar is better then it really is.

 

Me and Gastric Sleeve…

I’ve struggled with my body since I was about 14 but as I got older and times changed I got to the point where it didn’t matter anymore to me. I was me and I loved me. Yea, of course, I wanted to be able to go up a flight of stairs without getting out of breath, but excuse are easier then change some times. I joined a few gyms, tried a few diets but nothing worked and I always just told myself I would try something else at a later time. Then I’d pack on 10 more pounds.  I called it my pity weight.

It wasn’t until I was at my heaviest at 272 lb , that I knew something was wrong.

I had started to experience fatigue, restlessness, and my arms would go numb no matter how I laid in bed. I was always tired but could never sleep more then a few hours. Finally I decided to visit my doctor. At the doctors office the few concerns I had, turned into bigger ones. My weight and diet had caused me to have high blood pressure and high cholesterol. When I pointed out how hard I’ve tried to lose weight I realized I was making another excuse, to my doctor who is telling me what was wrong and why. She mentioned a weight loss clinic, and explained how surgery wasn’t the only thing they did. So the next day I called the weight loss clinic just to see what it was all about.

This weight loss center I went to provided weight management including nutritional counseling, medical evaluation, psychiatric evaluation and weight-loss surgery. My first step was to attend one of the information seminars. There they discussed the process, handed out tons of literature, and set us up for our journey. My first visit at the weight loss clinic wasn’t what I expected. It was a lot of learning at first and tired to absorb as much knowledge as possible.  I attended every classs and group they afford,  there weight management class that was very informative and one of my favorites. Each class was different, one class would talk all about how to make healthier choices, another about Food Journaling, and then different bariatric surgeries. I also went to some Support group meetings, which I found to be very helpful. Those meetings were a mix of pre and post opp patients and you could discuss concerns and fears with actual people have been down this road. During this time I meet with doctors and had decided maybe surgery was the best path for me. I began food journaling with the nutritionist and in doing so I learned a lot about my eating habits and things that trigger my overeating, like stress and boredom. I learned to make healthier choices and as i progressed through the program I did lose a few pounds.

Meeting with the psychologist was the most pivotal point in the journey.

We sat and spoke about what this weight loss meant to me. I was confused by her question because I never thought about what it really meant. I was fat, I had medical issues?  But I blurted out all of my fears dying young and leaving my children behind, not being able to keep up with my 4-year-old anymore, telling my 13 yr old son no I couldn’t go for a run because I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it more than half a block. I was embarrassed about how big I had let myself get. How can I tell people after this I punked out and opted for weight loss surgery and didn’t try harder. It was refreshing to let it all out my worries and insecurities all out on the table. That was probably the first time I knew I was actually doing the right thing.

A week prior to the surgery I was instructed to begin my pre-op diet. The Pre-op diet consisted of only liquids. The reason for the pre-op diet is because the stomach is located just to your left of your liver. To access your stomach for most bariatric procedures, your surgeon will use a liver retractor. This is a device that lifts the liver up and out of the way so your surgeon can safely operate on the stomach without the liver getting in the way. When you consume a lot of solid foods the liver becomes stiff on a liquid diet you liver can easily be moved. The first day wasn’t as bad as my second day, I was still working and seeing other people eat and snack around me was hard. My whole department ate lunch is secrecy to be supportive, but others who had no clue randomly walking by with a donut while I wiped the drool from my mouth. Then when I was home I had to be a mom, I still was cooking dinner for my family.

But I stuck it out until the end.

I kept different clear liquids around me at all time things with empty calories to ensure I could distract myself. My favorite where raspberry ice pops so good by the end of the week even the kids were eating them with me.

August 22nd 2017 I had my surgery. Prior to the surgery I decided it was best for me to get the Gastric sleeve surgery. The day I went into surgery I was 258 lbs. Once out of surgery everything was pretty easy for me. I didn’t have some of the most common medial complications ie. heart burn, nausea. It wasn’t until I got home that the discomfort kicked in. It felt like my stomach was sore and inflamed. Consuming liquids was strange at first I would get a cramp if I drank anything to quickly. The first 2-3 weeks after I was on liquids. I was walking around a bit but I  tried to relax to give my body time to recover. I wasn’t as drawn to food as I was prior to surgery because I didn’t feel hungry. But I missed chewing food, what a weird thing to miss doing I know. But its true the feeling of chewing was one of the things I missed most. By the third week I was up walking around no support bathing normally and finally was allowed to have some soft foods.

Still no real chewing.

I did not have any solid foods till my ninth week out from surgery. It was amazing I could actually chew something. By my 12th week I was back to all foods and still am. I can now consume about a cup of food during each meal. I no longer have drinks with my meals. So either I drink something prior and wait 15 min or I eat and then wait 30-45 min after to drink. It sounds silly but my stomach is so small I have to do one or the other not both at the same time. I have changed a lot of my eating habits, but I cant give up salty foods. I no longer have high cholesterol or high blood pressure. My health is at a good place but I’m still considered overweight. Now am 173 lb, and I have hit my plateau I need to start working harder towards new goals. Running a marathon, doing  push ups and just living life. From here on out its all me and wont be losing anymore weight unless I make an effort to start working out or tracking my calories more. So lets see where I go from here.

What is Gastric Sleeve Surgery ??

The Google machine definition of gastric sleeve surgery is a surgical weight loss procedure in which the stomach is reduced to about 15% of its original size, by surgical removal of a large portion of your stomach along with a greater curvature. The American Society for Metabolic and Bariatric Surgery states that in 2016, 216,000 people in America had some type of Bariatric surgery and 58.1% of those surgeries were Sleeve Surgery that’s 125,496 people.

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Que Viva Amazon!

Today I realized I have a serious problem. I was sad for a number of reason all of which of are my fault so, I went to Amazon. I was emotionally distraught and the first thing I could think of to make me feel better was Amazon.

My search started with just basket to organize my linen closet. A little click here and another over there and bam! 7 items in my cart and $305.61. Luckily I caught myself before check out but it became pretty obvious at that point:

I may have an unhealthy obsession with Amazon.

Now I say ‘unhealthy’ but I don’t quite mean it in a bad way. Hey, I love Amazon! I get packages at least twice a week, sometimes more. I had my birthday and Mother’s Day wish list on there and I will definitely use it for Christmas and the kid’s birthdays. They even have Subscribe and Save where you don’t even have to remember to order toilet paper; they do it for you. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking: OMG! She is so lazy! Well, guess what? You’re right. I am lazy. I’ll own that.

But to be honest, the conveniences of Amazon give me more sane moments with my family; not dragging them out shopping. No matter how well-behaved your kid is, those shopping trips are never as fast as you need them to be and your kid always whines and begs for something. Even though you used your Mommy Voice in the car and told them not to ask because we don’t have the money for those extra.

When I scroll through Amazon it’s like a quick one-stop shop for the things we need. But even the things I don’t need I get on Amazon. I mean if it has 2 day free shipping I’m going to get it. My Amazon saved for later section has ONLY 71 items. These are the items I drunk buy. What’s that, you ask? Well sometimes on Thursdays mama has a glass of wine or 3. She strolls over to the Amazon app and boom picks up something for herself that she had been hesitant to purchase. Thanks to Amazon I have an adult paint by number set, a bright blue clutch bag and a variety of J Lo sized hoop earring. And let me tell you.

It’s a real treat when 2 days after a hangover you get a package in the mail that you weren’t expecting.

Hiding the packages are the real problem. So, my 83 year old grandma has, all on her own I might add, started hiding them under her bed for me. She pulls me into her room to show me and covers her mouth as if we were doing a drug deal. It’s the best thing ever!

Look, I know Amazon isn’t for everyone and you maybe won’t find everything.

hahaha Who am I kidding Amazon is amazing and I will continue my love affair with them. Or, at least I will as long as that delivery guy remembers to leave everything at the side door and my grandmother smuggles it all past my family.

*This was not a paid post it was a mom expressing her love for Amazon. Also, if you didn’t know by using the link smile.amazon.com you can help raise money from a list of a million charitable organization.*