Kevin and I have been reexamining our holiday traditions for a few years now, especially since having the boys. In the past, we didn’t expect them to sit and eat with us during meals, as it wasn’t developmentally appropriate. As a result, we didn’t think much about diverging from the way we had always celebrated holidays.

However, as time went on, we decided to adapt our approach to accommodate our family’s needs. We realized that we don’t always have to do things the way they have always been done simply because that’s how it’s always been. Our two little ones need the freedom to move and wiggle to feel regulated, making a sit-down dinner feel like swimming upstream.

This led Kevin and me to ask ourselves, “How do we make holidays more accessible for everyone in our home?” We came up with the idea of “appetizers-giving.” Although this concept has been a topic of conversation among my cousins and me for years—often after feeling too full and jokingly saying, “You know, I feel like appetizers are enough for today!”—this year we finally brought the idea to fruition. I can honestly say (speaking for myself) that it was my favorite holiday as an adult. There was no set timeline, no large dishes to clean, and everything was so easy to set up and serve. The boys received all the attention they wanted and played with everyone.

I can’t wait to make this our new tradition and discover new ways to include appetizers in the years to come. We are incredibly grateful to the grandparents who wholeheartedly embraced our idea. It was wonderful to see how it allowed the boys to connect and play without the added stress of dishes or being tied to the table.

We love you all and are so happy that Grammy and Grandpa traveled to us and spent time with us leading up to the holiday. Always grateful that we can get lunch and catch up while the boys are in therapy or school. It was delightful to hear Julian say “hi” every time you came over and to hear him say your names. Thank you, Nonna, for the focaccia and food, as well as being Julian’s rocking chair, and thank you, Papa, for the perfect pumpkin pie appetizer desserts. You all made this holiday the best one yet! I can’t wait until next year to witness everyone’s growth and enjoy the same relaxed atmosphere we had this year.

Yesterday I was inspired by a friend to pull out my tarot deck and see what the cards had to say for a very important decision in their lives. I was genuinely impressed with how the cards presented and how connected I felt to the process after not pulling cards for a few years. As I know I’ve mentioned before I’ve seen many angel numbers so I do feel connected to my guides, so I felt compelled to ask the deck what it had for myself.

Out popped The Hanged Man, and I literally told the deck “I feel attacked”. If you know me well you know it can be hard for me to “let go”—whether it’s physical objects or hurt feelings I can’t just move on without feeling closure.

After conversing with two of my dear friends who know the tarot well I figured out what The Hanged Man wants me to do:
“I think I’m focusing too much on the like obvious letting go—as I sit with this conversation I’m reminded of maybe it’s about letting go of the future I thought it was going to be—and that’s something I have control over and that’s where maybe I have to refocus my attentions when I’m feeling overwhelmed with the hurt I feel—I need to redirect the pain of the expectations I thought I would have and allowing that to pass through”

Of course this is all easier said than done, and I fully expect to keep seeing this card until the lesson is learned.

The light and darkness are balanced today and we start to approach the seasons during which we turn inward, to rest, and truly to grow.

September is a transforming and transitional month, as we feel the end of summer not only through light but also through temperature—marked by the start of the falling leaves.

It’s amazing to watch the boys transition into their school year and adapt to their new schedules. There is so much growth happening, even when we think we cannot see it.

As a family, we have hit some new milestones, and we could not be prouder. The boys are now able to sit outside at a restaurant without needing their iPads after 20 minutes, and the bubs also adapted beautifully to a completely different routine one day when visiting Nonna and Papa. I also have started new routines with a physical asana practice, and on days when that wasn’t possible, I’ve tried to figure out how to incorporate the elliptical at the YMCA. I still need to work on the diet aspect, but it’s all about little growth over time.

I’ve also felt proud of my ability to establish boundaries and navigate my relationship with alcohol this month. I’ve allowed myself to enjoy it while socializing, but I also didn’t feel the need for it to cope with some sadness and overwhelm. Just as I would praise my sons for their growth, I must do the same for myself.

I look forward to the season ahead because I’m hopeful for more milestones to be met and more proud moments to celebrate.

I’ve been mulling over how I wanted to process some personal data about myself in regards to the reintroduction of alcohol in my life. For the most part it was been a good experience. However, it is not 💯 the way I wanted to experience it.

For example, when first having a glass of wine it didn’t feel right, too heady and I didn’t finished my glass. This made me feel empowered and more like I can just have a little here, and little there no biggie. Which honestly, has been true for the majority of my consumption. I’ve been able to order a sour while out at a brewery, and even had a reasonable amount of beverages when a friend visited from out of town (shout out Rob for another great sour beer).

Now I don’t know if it’s the way of the beast with a certain kind of alcohol or maybe I felt too huberous in my ability to consume but I had TOO much. Over Labor Day weekend Kev and I indulged in some whiskey that a friend brought down (honestly not entirely sure how the bottle got into our home haha). The first felt good, and the second was nice, but I had I know a few too many and with reflection it felt very much like that chasing the good feeling.

I think there is something about the depressant, alcohol, that it DUMPS the dopamine into the brain that the neurodivergence I have feels like to FINALLY get a break. I have a hyperactive mind and it causes so much anxiety and I never feel like I can “turn off”—and that’s the sneaky enticing part of alcohol. It makes me feel like I can “turn off” or “shut down” for a f*ckign moment.

The next day, and even that night I regretted immediately my “lack of willpower”. I felt awful, and Julian woke up at 4 am that morning and it was my instant karma. I was remained of how I had gone a whole year yes being tired but not feeling tired and sick like how alcohol can make you feel sick.

The main analogy I can give and honestly it’s why I developed an eating disorder is many ways, is that I am a sensory seeker. Binging was part of my eating disorder (along with the purging). So even when it comes to foods I KNOW I wont be able to just stop eating, I just won’t buy it—unless I can come to the mental terms of “you cannot be mad at yourself for eating it in a whole sitting” (however with alcohol MUCH more damage will be done).

With all this new found data of myself I am holding myself accountable as well as sharing so it’s not confusing that I cannot buy alcohol for myself for my home. I am perfectly capable to have a beer or glass of wine while out, but at home it’s a completely different situation. I’m definitely going to lean more into mocktails and my adapatogens—but I will still on occasion have a beer at a brewery and on special occasion wine and or a cocktail with Kev on a “date night”.

I appreciate anyone who has taken the time to read this and I hope if you relate we can talk about it to feel less alone.

​ xx

(oh and just to clarify: this image is an adaptogen infused mocktail with berry tea and lemonade 😜🌟🍋)

I've been having similar conversations with many people from different walks of my life recently. I'm starting to think it's the universe trying to tell me something. (I'm also seeing angel numbers EVERYWHERE—so much so that my dear friend Julian and I text each other when it happens, just to confirm what our guides are telling us.)

The conversations keep coming back to this idea—the concept of aligning ourselves with what feels right. Security and authenticity are major themes in honest conversations with friends. One lesson I'm learning is that being direct, but with an honest heart, is essential. It aligns with my brain wiring, and I can feel it within myself when something is aligning and when something is not.

I have to give credit to the friends who are secure with themselves or express what is called a secure attachment style. Their energy and the way they navigate the world have helped ease my anxiety. As I mentioned in my blog post about taking a break from alcohol for a year, I'm used to people "leaving me," which has given me an abandonment wound that colors my connections.

"I'm in the business of losing your interest
And I turn a profit each time that we speak."

These lyrics by Noah Kahan spoke deeply to me. I was always very good at people-pleasing when meeting new people, but in the back of my mind, I would think it's only a matter of time before I mess this up or they find out they actually don't like me. However, by meeting friends who are older or have lived more life, I have found security in my own self-talk. I have found that my real friends and true connections will not just leave me but will rather find ways to work through any "hiccups" or misunderstandings.

We must do our best to forgive who we were and who we are and remind ourselves that as long as we are true and authentic in our communications, sometimes it's the other person who needs to work on whatever is happening between the two of you. If you hold yourself accountable and know that you've apologized and been honest, that's all you can do.

Again, I thank the people who have helped me on this journey of life and parenthood because I need to be able to share these lessons with my sons and the children in my life. As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate you~

So I had this gut feeling as I was approaching the year mark to being alcohol free that I picked the wrong start date to my journey. I did my best when I first got an app to really try and pin point when I thought I started—I wanted it to be accurate.

I used to make these “Ava cocktails” videos and send them to friends which was me just having a liquor, some juice and sparkling water and call it a day—usually it was to cheers to the end of the day or cheers to the weekend. When trying to find the date to say this was the last time I did this I came to July 22nd. However, today time hop reminded me that on July 28th 2023 I partook in some alcohol. I will say this though, I still haven’t had anything to drink because I haven’t felt the “need”, so I still made it a year! (We will just say that July is my one year anniversary month 😅😵‍💫)

I should have when choosing a date went with July 30th like my original guess back when I realized in August 2023 that I was taking a long break—but I really wanted to feel more accomplished? I wanted to get as close as I could to accurate..even though I wasn’t right haha

Cheers to me though because even when feeling overwhelmed, sad, and anxious I still chose to do something different than to end the day with a glass of alcohol. ✌🏻

(Also I swear to goodness if time hop shows me another instance of me getting my date wrong I guess I’ll just say GOOD ENOUGH and refer to my post about the lessons learned because regardless of the actual date, I had some really hard things to learn this year without anything to “make it better” aside from my own self work and damn it, I put in the work to know that a cocktail out with my husband is where I want to go in regards to my alcohol consumption, not a “treat” to end my day with)

While Julian was playing on his iPad he started going through the photographs that are connected to Kev’s phone. I didn’t realize that ALL these photogroahs existed of not only me, but of me with my sweet babes. One of these photogrpahs is the first photograph of when I held both boys at once 🥹.

When Julian was finished playing on his iPad I had to air drop the images to myself. I needed to have these to look back on and cherish. And before anyone thinks that it’s the fault of Kevin for not sharing with me hold your horses because I know that when he took these images I hated them. That tends to be the pattern because I have body dysmorphia and most images of myself I have to have time apart from the moment they are taken to process how I feel. Kevin knows this because he has heard many times how I don’t like xyz, and that’s the problem with body dysmorphia, you really can never see yourself.

You need so much space and time to even appreciate yourself. I thank Kevin for taking photographs regardless, because these do mean the world to me because it’s how you see me 😘
​

*edited 9/22 to clarify and add more context and realizations to this post* (bold and italicized are the edits)

The boys have been going through many wonderful changes since the end of their school year. They’ve been able to accomplish so many new behaviors and skills that have been absolutely amazing to witness. For example, there are moments when Julian is able to walk, and I don't have to run away or worry about the stress being too much. In those moments, a wave of relief washes over me, mixed with a sense of grief. It's a strange feeling, experiencing both emotions at once. It's one of those things where you realize that everyone else gets to experience this, and it hurts because it feels like I've waited so much longer for what others seem to just “have”. The duality of raising special needs children is something I will forever have to acclimate to, however I am always grateful for it (the duality) as well.

As a parent of a special needs child, valid emotions are often minimized. People tend to say things like "every child does that" or "it's going to be okay," which can be disheartening. I am an over-thinker and I feel things deeply, so when someone minimizes my experience (or even my children’s experiences), it's incredibly frustrating. I feel frustrated because I know what we can and cannot do with absolute certainty, and then I'm told that every child “does that.” This cannot be true because I witness many things other children can do that my children (at this time) cannot. (And I don’t want to just make them do things that will be too much for them because they don’t deserve unnecessary stress just to “do stereotypical things).

I am the voice and advocate for my children until they can communicate more efficiently with others. I know from experience that they’ll feel themselves that even when they think they can “just do it” it'll be taxing, and I have a feeling they’ll feel a similar frustration that I feel as their mother now. I want them to know from my example that they don’t have to do everything in a way that is stereotypical or just because it’s a “should” of society. We as a family have decided to do our best to create unique and specific experiences for ourselves that way our boys live with just as much joy.

I am thankful to be my son's mother and to share a similar wiring and diagnosis because it helps me understand what they are going through. However, it can sometimes feel like a cruel joke to experience such deep emotions. It is difficult to handle feelings of rejection, particularly when they stem from missing out on experiences I had hoped for as a parent. While comparing myself to others diminishes my joy, it is an inevitable aspect of human nature. Despite our efforts to avoid comparisons, it is a common practice that helps us, as a society, navigate life's experiences.

However, as much as we are grateful and as much as we do our best to create memories that suit our lives I can envy how effortlessly other parents plan play dates, go to restaurants and even have changes in plans. Even though, I hate surprises or last minute plans myself…and creating new friendships can give me overwhelming anxiety. As much as we love playdates with the friends who understand our needs it can be the most challenging to navigate the change in routine. This is where the belittlement of my valid anxiety comes into play. I understand what my sons can handle, and it can be frustrating to feel judged for prioritizing their peace over pushing them out of their comfort zone. Being their parent is a constant balancing act because I am their safe space, but also the one who must guide them to where they need to go.

I am mostly grateful for the complex emotions we experience, though it can be exhausting to feel everything so deeply. The concept of contentment is always on my mind, and I find it challenging to live by that rule. I even had it tattooed onto my right wrist to remind myself to be content with all we have in our life. It feels like my life’s work is to balance the conflicting emotions of happiness and desire for more when a milestone is reached, only to have the goalpost moved; it feels like a constant struggle.

Ultimately, I remain hopeful that we will eventually achieve our goals and access experiences that currently feel out of reach. Despite the obstacles, we must persevere, practice patience, and demonstrate love. It is within our own world and routines that everything feels normal; it is when we attempt to integrate into society that the true differences in our lives become apparent. This is why having friends who truly understand is so crucial. We are fortunate to have a few of these friends, and I hold them close to my heart.