Maman Sucre

I want to be your sugar mama; the one you call when your body is dragging and your soul needs a lift.

You will say to me, "I'm not sick but... I don't feel great. My skin is dry, my muscles ache, my nose is stuffy. I don't know what to do. Dawn, can you help me?"

I have begun the process by which I am going to set up a small business - and I do mean small.

Maman Sucre is French for sugar mama (or mommy). I've spent quite a few years now reading about how what you put in your body is important, i.e. In the form of nutrition. On the other side of that coin is the knowledge that what you put on your body is equally important.

Sugar: Put it on your body, not in it.

Salt? Same story.

So, I am developing a line of all natural, safe bath products that use essential oils and naturally occurring minerals to lift spirits and help prevent or ease the symptoms of common illnesses. Everything I make will be safe enough for kids and will often be made by my kid and me. The look and feel of the packaging and the product itself should be green, inviting, warm. Geared toward women who care about their beauty and their health as well as the health and safety of their families.

Eat like a child

How Maya eats a cupcake:

1. Remove the candy topping from all cupcakes
2. Eat the candy first
3. Select the cupcake that appears to be the least damaged
4. Lick all the frosting off first 
5. Slowly nibble the frosting-less cupcake 
6. Drop cupcake crumbs on chair and sprinkle on floor
7. Leave one or two bites of cupcake on the plate
8. Suck the remaining frosting and crumbs from the cupcake wrapper
9. Wipe sticky hands on the chair, clothes, and/or in hair
10. Run away to play

Moments and actions like this strike me when I can keep my eyes open, pause, and be present in the moment. Today, was one of those days. 

How Maya catches a "butterfly":

1. Run through the garden willy-nilly, arms flailing
2. Giggle relentlessly
3. Pause on the curb to the street and glance back to see if mom is watching
4. Chase the butterfly down the curb
5. Run into and say hi to the day laborers at the neighbor's house
6. Glance to the porch to see if mom is watching
7. Race the butterflies back to the lantana bushes
8. Trap the nearest one between your tiny hands
9. Present your "butterfly" proudly to mommy
10. Watch her run around the house trying to locate your butterfly bungalow
11. Gently place the "butterfly" in her new home
12. Pick flowers and leaves from the garden to make her feel at home
13. Decide to set her free three hours later. Change your mind. Change your mind again. 
14. Go to sweet sleep not realizing the butterfly was actually a moth and that the moth is now dead (not sleeping like you thought)

There is nothing more beautiful or sweet to me than the innocence of children. 

Turning Points

The past decade of my life has shifted my psyche until my former self would be almost unrecognizable to my present self. Yet, they are both me, and I carry them with me every moment of every day. 

The current decade began in the summer of 2003: June 1 to be exact. 

At my 25th birthday party, I hung out with my girlfriends, colleagues, like-minded souls, and sisters. We smoked cigarettes on the stairs outside my apartment. We drank cocktails poolside watching a fire dancer twist tongues of fire around her wrists, the golds and reds reflected in the midnight water.

That was the summer I met James Michael Sadek, and nothing has ever been the same since then. One person cannot cause another to change so dramatically as I have in the past 10 years, but our relationship - and all that has sprung from it - has altered me to the core. 

I often wonder.... While I am confident in the many improvements in my spiritual life, my moral life, my rational life, I wonder if I can truly attribute the positive changes to my marital relationship or to my own actions. 

The fact is, he grounds me when nothing else can. At least, he did for a time. He occasionally still does. He gives me a somewhat more rational perspective on topics I might otherwise get lost in. 

When I met him, I had chosen my rabbit hole, and I dove right in. I had no interest in clawing my way out. 

In fact, I was hungover on our first date. I spilled Vietnamese coffee all over myself my hands were shaking so much. He had to take me to my apartment and let me sleep it off so we would be able to make it to the student film premiere we had planned to attend. 

I handed him a book of my poetry and the TV remote before I shuffled off to bed.

What an odd way to begin a relationship.

Fast forward to June 1, 2013 - I ended this most recent decade newly pregnant, surrounded by other kind mamas, eating cake balls in a classy restaurant. 

In the interim, my birthdays have run the gamut from swanky 30th birthday shindig on Lake Travis, to tramped up dancing at the Aquarium club in downtown Austin, to a private family party of three at Port Aransas. 

Since childhood, my birthdays are typically spent by bodies of water: Pools, oceans, lakes. In dreams, water represents emotions, and the state of the water is the state of those emotions. The birthday party when James and I were engaged was the last spent by a pool with placid waters. Oddly, it wasn't the most placid of times, but I wasn't dreaming, now was I?

My question is this: I have changed in 10 years more than I thought possible. I have become more confident, more aware, and more loving, understanding and respectful. 

Where do I go from here? 

I expect Maya and Lila will be the ones to show me how to find those answers. 

Will my husband continue the journey with me? Will our relationship stand the test of growing and raising our family together? 

I suspect the guy who used to clean up my drunken vomit from the side of the bed, who called the paramedics when I suffered massive dehydration from food poisoning and was terrified of losing me, who supported me in his own unique way when I suffered through postpartum depression, and who sacrifices his time - much less his favorite gadgets - to provide for our comfort, will come through for us. 

Gratitude is a verb

Gratitude tattoo design by silverwingstattoos

grat·i·tude  [grat-i-tood, -tyood]
noun
the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful: He expressed his gratitude to everyone on the staff.
Dictionary.com

The Facebook trend of posting each day what you are grateful for is inspiring. I am curious, though, how my friends and family take action for their gratitude. How often do we pause during the day to not only reflect on what we have to be grateful for, but to demonstrate that gratitude in our lives?

How often do you say "Thank you?" It's such a simple statement. It takes seconds to say, and it may be disregarded or shrugged off by the recipient, but for many, it means so much. I'm the kind of person who thrives more on acknowledgement than gifts. If you're specific about what you're thanking me for, it means that much more to me.

A woman I'm friends with on Facebook but have not seen in years wrote me a private message just to tell me how grateful she has been for my support while she was going through some difficult times. "In many ways, you help me though ever realizing it. Thank you for the love and support," she wrote. Such a simple statement, but it had a strong impact on me. To me, what I wrote in a Facebook comment seemed like mere words, but to her, they actually helped. Words have a power we may not consciously notice, but our psyches do.

If you are reading this, thank you for your support. And, for those who share words of wisdom, encouragement, and support with me when I am struggling, thank you. You help me realize that I am not alone.

With love and gratitude,
dawn marie

Climbing My Way Out

It's much more difficult to be depressed as a grown-up.
It's not like when I was a kid and all I had to do was go to school
Go through the motions
Nod and say, "Yes ma'am; no sir;"
Trudge home from the bus stop and
Park on my bed
Stare at the ceiling until my mom starts screaming because
She's stuck with me -
Trapped in this house with nothing to do
Because she can't leave me alone.
Doctor's orders.

Some days, I'd much rather be dancing
At a bar in a club
Downtown
The band and the bass promising
I'll regret this tomorrow;
Wearing something inappropriate for a mother,
And the blood alcohol level to match.

As an adult, people expect more from you.
People expect you to care
To do more than just tune the world out.
Kids look to you for guidance
"Hold my hand; take me to the park; fix my boo-boo...."

There is no easy way out -
Always the sense of responsibility
Can't scream and cry because
My daughter will hear me
Can't run away 'cause
My conscience will eat me
Can't slit my wrists because
Someone will find me
Then everyone will see what's inside me, and
I won't be able to hide.

Climbing out of a depression is like
Trying to find a clean toilet in a club restroom
When all the stalls are full to overflowing,
There's a crowd, and someone's vomiting in the stall next to you.
You desperately search and finally find a toilet that's only moderately disgusting
You squat or hover and do your business as best you can until you realize
There's no toilet paper.
You search through your purse for a tissue but realize
It's your club purse, not your regular bag,
So, you find nothing and wind up dirty-
Tuck your skirt into your panties and
Go back to the bar for another shot.