To my mom, on your first Christmas in heaven: I miss you. I miss the smell when I walk into your house during Christmas time. It was always sauce or chicken cutlets with a hint of some sort of fried shrimp or peppery antipast. I miss the way you needed a cigarette after you finished each part of your seven course menu. I miss the way the presents started to fill up in the living room before the tree even went up. I miss the Christmas tree and all of your pastel ornaments that didn’t really scream Christmas to me, but this year I’ll surely snag one off your tree, the rocking horse, the one I always hung, to put on my own. I miss the way your eyes lit up when we brought presents to your house because we just couldn’t wait til the 25th to give them to you. I miss the way you rummaged through them like a little girl and couldn’t even wait to see what was inside while guessing exactly what was inside upon touching it. I miss you wearing your pajama pants and dads shirts up until it was time to eat and then you’d go put on one of your adorable outfits just in time for 5 o’clock. I miss the way we’d bust out into any song and sing together until we started laughing. I miss the millions of little things that all added up to making me still feel like I was an only child with everything I ever asked for. I miss when the card I wrote you would make you cry. It would make me secretly happy inside, not to see you in actual tears but to know you understood through my words how important you are to me, how very special you are and I always wanted the special days to be even better for you because of all the ways you always made everyone else feel special. I’m happy I always told you how much I loved you. And then when I moved out when we’d text about how much we missed eachother and how you’d say “I miss your beautiful face in the morning.” You’re one of the only ones who ever loved when I sang at the top of my lungs, and I know you’re with me now when I’m singing to you in my house or in my car because truth is, every time I sing I sing for you. I miss your hands, the way your jewelry sparkled on your wrists. How your hands always looked tan, and your silver rings were constantly clean and nails were always manicured. I miss your obsession with makeup and the way you always loved the newest urban decay pallets we’d get you for Christmas, hoping you didn’t already buy them for yourself. I loved when you wore makeup and how beautiful your skin always looked. I miss the scent of your perfume mixed with your laundry detergent and the faintest hint of hairspray in your hair. I miss the sound of your voice and the way your laugh told me the exact mood you were in. I miss your dirty jokes, and how I could talk to you about anything. I miss driving to your house and talking on the phone with you the whole way there. I miss the way you fixed my mental breakdowns simply by agreeing with me and talking shit with me and saying exactly what I wanted and needed to hear. I miss the millions of emojis in every text you ever sent. I miss your hair. Your big, shiny black Jersey hair. I miss coloring it and cutting it and having you in my chair the week before Christmas and sharing you with my professional life. I know how proud of me you were. I miss ordering your dunkin order at the end of mine, medium hot tea with two splendas and skim. I miss going out to the bar with you. I miss you telling me what song you wanted me to sing, and miss hearing you belt out black velvet or I feel lucky. I miss being constantly hit on because everyone was attracted to our table mainly because of how gorgeous you were. I miss you riding shotgun in my car. I even miss carting your ass around and feel a pang of guilt every time I remember you yelling at me for saying that one Monday afternoon. I miss our Mondays together. I miss the way you love Mav. I miss the way I know you would love him today. When he says “privateseats” instead of privacy, I know you’re cackling about it every time he says something funny and I miss you when that happens because you enjoy things exactly like I do, or I enjoy them exactly like you would. I just miss you in everything I do. I miss you in everything you miss. I miss you in everything I miss. Out of all the presents in this world I would give anything for one more Christmas morning with you. One more Christmas hour with you. One more salami and provolone rolled up on Italian bread stuck in my face saying oh c’mon eat it! One more conversation, kiss, hug, text, Christmas card. I hope that wherever you are you spend a lot of time with me. With dad Allie and Chris. I know you talk to Mav because he tells me almost every day. I hope you know that Christmas will never be what it once was now that you’re not here as the very glue that held us all together. It’s all becoming clear that you were always the strong one, the one with the truest and rarest set of family values and I just thank you for instilling your strength, beauty and grace inside all of us. My biggest comfort is being a mother and having my siblings and father when I need them the most. All the greatest lessons I’ve learned from you. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve ever done for me and continue to teach me now that you’re “gone.” I hope I am making you proud. And I hope that you visit this Christmas. We would all love to see you 👑✨ I always used to write in your cards how you were my real life guardian angel, and I know you still are. Merry Christmas Mama, I love you more. 

Today I would give anything to transport back in time. My already broken heart feels lifeless. I honestly don’t know how it beats some days. Most people I think would have given up by now. I can’t even explain what is going on because it’s not really my story to tell and it’s another blow that life is throwing at me just days before my first Christmas without my mom. And that is seriously shrinking me down into nothing and making me feel, well I don’t even know. I’m so scared that I cry every day. It makes me feel so good but also I hate having Mav see it as such an often occurrence. I hold his hands and tell him I’m just sad and he looks into my eyes and tells me it’ll be ok. And I know eventually it will be. 
Rewind to June 8th. The day after my three year anniversary. The night before I had my last planned and official date night with my husband. My mom texted me to say she was sorry she forgot it was my anniversary and asked if we had fun. The next afternoon my dad called me in a panic and said he was bringing my mom to the hospital because she couldn’t get out of bed. She was too weak. I don’t even remember now if I worked that day but what I do remember next in the sequence of events was my father calling me. He was sobbing and screaming and I was thinking the worst. I knew how very terrible this phone call was. And I fell to my knees. My flip flops fell off my feet and I sat too sad and too scared to cry. My body was moving like I was crying but the tears were absent. I felt just as weak as she did. And I remember voicing to Dan how hard this was going to be and how scared I felt. I remember thinking in my head how I can’t have a funeral card with my mother’s name on it. How that would end me for sure. 
Truth is. Present day. I’m not sure how I’m doing. People tell me I’m strong but I know how weak I feel. I know that I cry every day and I worry that one day the stress will consume me and it makes me worry about this little blessing I’m harboring inside my womb. I feel scared. My heart feels sore, like an over-exerted muscle. I have a constant headache on and off in the back of my neck and my shoulders are always heavy. I miss my mom every minute. I shake my head when the realization hits me because I think at times, I still don’t believe it. I try to be strong but this past Saturday night I sat in a hotel room in one of my favorite cities, and my baby sister held me while I cried. And it felt good. It felt like my mom was talking to me through her. Being in NYC without a husband (he stayed home because… snowplowing) and a two year old to keep track of with a pregnant nose wasn’t the best time for me. And on top of it I had more curve balls thrown at me and had to take it square in the face. More weight poured on top of my already cemented heart. More weight I can’t even talk about because it’s private and painful and well that’s my life now.
But I’m going on. Or trying to. Because I’m a mother. And I want to be everything my mother was. A wife. Because I want to love and support him like he does me. A daughter and a sister. Because those roles get pushed to the side sometimes and I realize how imperative it is to keep those relationships thriving. And I have no choice but to deal with everything that comes to me and hope someday I will understand why this season in life is working out the way it is. And trying to say that it’s happening for me and not to me so I can become some super badass take no shit kinda broad someday. 
I will go on because although the people I can talk to about this are far and few between. They get me. They totally get me. And even if they don’t, they listen and speak and love me gently. They send me boxes full of candy and tissues. Send me texts on the days I need them most. Hang out with me when I say no a hundred times. Make me dinner just because. Tell me they’re thinking of me with a box of gourmet chocolates in the mail. Make me breakfast in bed and leave a hot Stewart’s coffee on my nightstand for when I wake up. I feel all the extra gestures of love and usually they come on a day where I needed them the most. To take a break from the heart pain and feel the heart swell. 

I’m going out with Aldog today to finish up shopping and to try and turn this mood around. Hoping everyone has their merriest cheer ready for this bah humbug feeling chick.

So, I’m sorry for being down. It’s never ever been my intention to be so sad and to write so sadly. But it’s part of my very DNA now. To my friends: old, new, and rekindled, Merry Christmas. And happy holidays to you. Please understand that everyone in this world is in some kind of pain. Be it financial, emotional or physical, we are all suffering. Please be kind. Spread a little extra warmth this week, for you and for me. God bless and I hope your Christmas is full of love ❤✨🎄

Ya know. It’s been said that God only gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers. I know by no means has he challenged me as much as he could have but, God, if you’re listening, can I get a three week reprieve and just skate through the holidays? Much appreciated. You the man.
So today I find myself blogging from the vestibule at my OBGYN office. I’m getting my sugar test and so far I am passing with flying colors. So flying that they think I may faint soon but they won’t give me crackers until I do, to make absolutely sure. Why the vestibule? Because the cozy nice waiting room is about 70 degrees too warm for me and it’s making the smells permeate into my pregnant nose and I haven’t eaten since dinner last night so since I’m just an absolute peach and joy to be around right now I have isolated myself to the near outdoors for temperature regulating purposes. 
So about the challenging battles. There will always be a new one. Here I thought I would just coast for a few years since I had endured such a tragedy in June, and then the universe laughed and was like “years? How ’bout a few months” and handed me my next uphill-er so matter of factly. I can’t control anything and I’m fully aware of that, I haven’t completely accepted it yet but it’s on my New Years resolution list of things to try and accomplish. They say that this shit builds character so I’m also looking forward to being fucking amazing by the time I die. Also, if you receive mail from me and the return address isn’t directed to four winds then I’d say I’m doing alright. 
So my takeaway for today is this. I’m a true believer that we do have a hand in our destiny and overall fate in life. However we need to stop looking at things like they are happening “to us” and maybe if we accept that they are happening “for us” we can all adjust accordingly. We can accept it for as if we manifested it this way. So today, I’m looking at new people and new challenges coming into my life as teachers of some sort, and the sooner I learn the lesson they’ve been sent to me, the sooner I can move on to my next challenge, be it a person, or whatever and EVOLVE. 
I want to tell all the people who remain constant in my life that I love you, and thank you for loving me. That I don’t ever want to stay stuck for too long, but I do thank you for staying here with me nonetheless. Happy Friday y’all. And keep it festive for your pregnant friend by having a beer for me tonight 🍻

Well, I woke up to December’s first snow fall, and I cried. Because I was sad. Because it’s another month without my mom, and another first I didn’t see coming. I woke up at 7:30 and the house was dark and outside had the silence that only a blanket of snow can bring. I felt the tears start to fill up in my eyes and i welcomed an early morning cry. I instantly flashed backwards to this picture in my head. As much as I hate only having pictures, I love how many we’ve taken ❤️

What I wouldn’t give to go to Home Depot, Hewitts, and every stop in between in dad’s mini van. We’d be listening to Christmas songs and you and dad would be singing some dirty version you concocted together over all the years you’ve spent the holidays together. What I wouldn’t give to roll my eyes at you, or buy all the fun hats we touched, and then come over and put up your tree and decorate it with you while listening to Dominick the donkey, I wanna hippopotamus for Christmas, and every Elvis song we could find on iTunes. I miss the little things so much. I miss the things I didn’t realize were even things until now. I miss our Mondays together. I miss shopping with you. I miss being so excited to buy you Christmas gifts even if you opened them like a little squirrel. Mav woke up this morning and rushed downstairs to put the lights on. As he plugged them in and they lit up around your picture he said “oh good morning Gaga!! How did you sleep in heaven?” And I cried again. 

To my friends who are lucky and so very blessed enough to still hang out with your mom, or even FaceTime her anytime you want. I’m so jealous of you. But I’m so happy for you too. As much as it burns inside my heart to realize some people still have their moms, I’m genuinely glad for you too. What I wouldn’t do to share a festive cocktail with my mom tonight. What I wouldn’t do to go out and spend all my money on her favorite things. What I wouldn’t do for one more Christmas with my beloved, wonderful, hilarious, queen of a mom. So Merry Christmas season to to you my mama, all the way up.
A dear friend told me recently that because I can’t replace my mom the only thing I can do is be the best mother possible because she was that for me. I loved that advice so much. It was real and true and the best thing she could have said to me. 
👑 Every day I’m trying to be completely amazing in your honor. Loving and loveable, generous and humble. For you, for me. And for my children 👑