A post 9 years in the making.

Today, I'm going back. Not waaaay back, but back 9 years.  

If you follow me on twitter, which I think you TOTALLY should (shameless plug), I’m about to unmask one of the infamous Ruiz mini-mes that grace my feed.

Twelve years ago, I fought a battle that I wish on no one. I fought cancer. And I won (knock on wood, Thank You, God.) Part of my fight was with the help of radical, experimental chemotherapy mixed together into a potent and potentially deadly chemo cocktail. There were no fancy umbrellas with this cocktail and the side effects were potentially devastating. My dream to be a mommy may have been just that … a dream.

Almost a year after we finished chemo, my oncologist, the ever brilliant and uber amazing Dr. Chawla, said we could start trying to have children. A couple of months later, we got pregnant! The high of being able to get pregnant met with a soul crushing miscarriage on Christmas day. I thought for sure it was because of the chemo. I thought certainly this was going to be how Mark and I spent the next few years.
My brother, Patric, disagreed.
He said, “Mindy, he’s just not perfect yet and he’s stubborn. He’ll get it the second time around.”

I’m not sure how Patric knew the baby was a he.

I’m not sure how Patric knew we would try again, because, at the time, I was certain I couldn’t go through the loss again.

But three months and two pink lines later we were, surprisingly, pregnant.

I held my breath for ten weeks!

And then took only short quick breaths for the remaining thirty weeks.

On November 8th, 2003. Jacob Anthony Ruiz was born.

And just as his Uncle Patric had promised, he was PERFECT!!!

He still is.

He has the tender soul of his Grandpa Doc.

The righteousness of his Daddy.

The adventurous spirit of his Uncle Patric.

The best hugs ever like his Granny Bea.

The persistence of his Granny Carol.

The wiliness of his Uncle Daniel and Uncle Maty

The LOVE for the USC Trojans like his Uncle Josh and Aunt Kat

And he has my smile and imagination.

Happy Birthday, Jacob.

Love, your Momma!

The Caterpillar and The Six Year Old. Hankies ready?

It’s not very easy explaining Heaven and death to a six-year-old.  We’ve been blessed not to have the need for this conversation for some time.  So, you can imagine my surprise yesterday morning when my six-year-old mini-me decided the ride to school would be the perfect time and place.  He wanted to confirm his Grandpa Doc and Grandpa Pete were in Heaven.  Both men solidly believed in the Lord. 

“Yes, baby.”  I eyed his reaction in the rear view mirror.  His brows furrowed up with thought for a moment just before his eyes found mine in the mirror.

“Are they like butterflies?”

“How do you mean?”

“In my class we are studying butterflies.”

“Yes, you showed me their cocoons-“

“Chrysalises, mom.  They’re called chrysalises.”  He quickly corrected me.  “And yesterday three butterflies emerged.” 

“I remember!”  The proud smile pulled at my heart because yes, this is exactly how my six-year-old talks.  He loves big words and now big concepts. 

“So, mom, are our bodies like a chrysalis? “

“How do you mean.”  I searched for the nearest shoulder in the road.  Things were about to get heavy.  Six-year-old mini-me wears every emotion he has on his sleeve and in his big look-at-the-wonder-of-the-world eyes.  If he wanted to talk death, then there was no way to steer him around it because he’d been contemplating this conversation for weeks.  And I couldn’t find a place to pull over.

“I think that we are like the caterpillars.  And we live our lives and then, when we die, we go into a chrysalis.”

“I never-“

“Actually, mom. I’m not done.”  His dimpled smile made the cut much easier.  “You know how the butterfly emerges?”

I nod and get another dimpled grin.

“I think that’s how it is.”

“How what is?”

“When we become angels.  We leave the chrysalis and the people who are still caterpillars bury our body, but who we are is now  free ... flying like a butterfly.  Like an angel.”

I still can’t find a place to pull over and, now, I really need to because I can’t see the road through the tears in my eyes.  How precious. How simple.  How utterly right he is.  It doesn’t make death any easier, but to a six year old, and now his mom… we won’t ever look at a butterfly the same way.

He quickly moved on to the newest Lego Ninjago figure he’d like to “acquire” for his collection, he is still only six and I’ll be cherishing his pure thoughts for as long he shares them with me.

Spring Break...

In an attempt to further test my sanity, the minis two separate school districts decided that back-to-back Spring Breaks could just send me over the edge or get me ready for summer break.
I'm going to dive back into the week two of Ruiz Minis Gone Wild and leave you with this latest SNL Skit.
For all those who live in California, THE CALIFORNIANS skit may have hit a little too close to home.  Because, I really did know all those short cuts.
For all those who don't live in California, sadly, we could really slip into this skit seamlessly.
ENJOY!!!

My Favorite Things ... yep it's Monday!

One of my favorite things is something I can not live with out … and that is my almost 8 year-old son, Jacob.


If you follow me on twitter, which I think you TOTALLY should (shameless plug), I’m about to unmask one of the infamous Ruiz mini-mes that grace my feed.

Ten years ago, I fought a battle that I wish on no one. I fought cancer. And I won (knock on wood, Thank God.) Part of my fight was with the help of radical, experimental chemotherapy mixed together into a potent and potentially deadly chemo cocktail. There were no fancy umbrellas with this cocktail and the side effects were potentially devastating. My dream to be a mommy may have been just that … a dream.

Almost a year after we finished Chemo, my oncologist, the ever brilliant and uber amazing Dr. Chawla, said we could start trying to have children. A couple of months later, we got pregnant! The high of being able to get pregnant met with a soul crushing miscarriage on Christmas day. I thought for sure it was because of the chemo. I thought certainly this was going to be how Mark and I spent the next few years. My brother, Patric, disagreed. He said, “Mindy, he’s just not perfect yet and he’s stubborn. He’ll get it the second time around.”

I’m not sure how Patric knew the baby was a he.

I’m not sure how Patric knew we would try again, because, at the time, I was certain I couldn’t go through the loss again.

But three months and two pink lines later we were, unintentionally, pregnant.

I held my breath for ten weeks!

And then took only short quick breaths for the remaining thirty weeks.

On November 8th, 2003. Jacob Anthony Ruiz was born.

And just as his Uncle Patric had promised, he was PERFECT!!!

He still is.

He has the tender soul of his Grandpa Doc.

The righteousness of his Daddy.

The adventurous spirit of his Uncle Patric.

The best hugs ever like his Granny Bea.

The persistence of his Granny Carol.

The wiliness of his Uncle Daniel and Uncle Maty

The LOVE for the USC Trojans like his Uncle Josh and Aunt Kat

And he has my smile and imagination.

Happy Birthday, Jacob. You are and will continue to always be my favorite person.

Love, your momma

 

Halloween... *caution it's not pretty*

It's been Thir-Teen. YEARS! since the husband and I went out on a Halloween-kid-free-date. 
We were gonna put the roar back into the 20's as a zoot suit gangster and his flapper friend Fee..
(we made up nick names, don't judge.)
So I started the night like this:



Fierce, Right!
We drank, we danced, we even won the cutest couple costume contest!!
Dude, We. Were. WORKIN' IT!!!
Came home at 2 a.m. ...
and

SPLAT!!!
Crashed like kids off a sugar high.
This morning...


yep, that looks like pretty accurate depiction...

Gone Fishing!

Have you ever noticed that if you tell someone you’re “on a roll” or “the words are flowing like a river” fate steps in and kicks ya square in the teeth?    How ‘bout this one: “If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans.”

I’ve been working on super cool project codename: EC and uttered the words, “Holy cow, I think this’ll be done in a couple of weeks.” So … yep, God, fate and the mini-mes got together and whammied me! 
The past couple of weeks have been, well, hell would be a nice place.
Tartaros!!!
That’s where Zeus and the mega brother’s sent their daddy’s chopped up little pieces. Think my kids may have paid a little bit too much attention to Percy Jackson and the Lightening Thief. 
Why?
All three of the Ruiz mini-me’s have played a roll in the double whammy, send mommy batty, kick her in the teeth before we send her to a very hot place plan. 
So what’s the point of this mindless, sleep deprived post you ask?
Simple.
Next time I feel the urge to say, “Holy Cow! *insert whatever great news I’m holy cowing*, I’ll just hang a sign that says… 
Gone Fishing.
Not even the fish pay attention when ya say that!