The other day I went to the social security office to begin the process of changing my name. It entails quite a bit, especially when you get to the part where you have to go to the bank, human error being the worse. It’s been almost a year since my name was legally changed but I couldn’t officially change it. I remember filling out the marriage license form with Z. I wasn’t able to click on the submit button for days. I couldn’t decide whether or not I wanted to change my name. Everyone thought I should, especially my mother and Z but I couldn’t do it quite yet. So I sat on the application and without meaning to do so, we ended up getting legally married April 20th.

In the end I changed my last name but it doesn’t take effect until you make all the necessary changes.

1. Get a new social security card with your new name
2. Take that new card to the DMV along with your marriage license and get a new ID
3. Go to your banking institution and change your name on your account (s)
4. Call all your credit card companies, insurance, etc., and hope they will make the changes without asking for too much (copies of forms…)
5. OPTIONAL but very important let your voting center know about the change, update passport  (will cost you the same price as if you were renewing)…and you get the point. 

So here I am beginning the process (I’m on step one, waiting for my new card in the mail) after much affliction. I’ve always loved my last name. It was my fathers gift to me, given to him by his French rooted father who settled in Guatemala. I never had a close relationship with my grandfather but I did with my father. My father had a big role in making me the savvy businesswoman I became and teaching me the importance of being a parent to a child as apposed to a friend. My father was a black belt and although he didn’t send me to karate school he gave me and my sisters self defense lessons and he never let us “win”. If you didn’t try with all your little girl might, you would end up on the floor, and if you were me, you would end up in tears knowing that you weren’t able to beat your opponent.

My father taught me to love as passionately as I could, to look for the good in people but always be cautious, to look people in the eye when speaking, to give a good hand shake and to speak clearly when presenting to others but most importantly, to be a good listener. Everything, he said, will come from listening, learning, growth, opportunity and personal development and thus far, my father has been right. When I think of Dubon, I think of my father and all the lessons he taught me while I thought he was just trying to drive me insane. I think of my siblings, being little and going on scavenger hunts in our huge back yard. I think of the nights we spent camping in Lake Perris telling stories we knew would give us nightmares. I think of the summer nights we all spent in the pool. I think of all the pets my father allowed us to own so much so it felt like a zoo that drove my mother crazy. I think of all the instruments and extracurricular activities my father encouraged us to learn and never let us quit.

Dubon is deep rooted within me but I’m ready to add to the great base my parents molded and can only hope to do the same with Natey.

Ok, so I may be exaggerating just a tad bit, but I definitely felt like Alexander felt the whole day of his happenings; nothing could go right. It was Saturday night and Z and I were going to the Tiesto concert at the Staples Center. We had suite tickets as it was also a work event. The suite was just as expected and I was having a good time for the whole first five minutes before I decided I wanted to leave. So let me back track a bit.

We were supposed to have dinner with some clients prior to the event which started at 7 but were running late so decided to go straight to the Staples Center only to find out that the concert went on until midnight (we thought it ended at 10)! I was starving and really wasn’t looking forward to nachos (although on most days they’re my favorite) and chicken tenders. House music, which is what this sounded like to me, was entertaining for a while before we all came to the conclusion that it sounded like the same song being played over and over again with flashing lights going around the stadium (no glow sticks allowed)! Having little to entertain ourselves with, I proceeded to talk to our guests who began to feel like they were too old for the concert (they are in their late twenties!) as the only appropriate thing to do was to fist pump and move your hands around with your imaginary glow sticks. I hung out a couple hours before I let Z know I was ready to go, to which he responded ” stop being such a mommy”…in his defense he was joking but I was a bit irritated and still hungry. I composed myself and politely asked we go home again.

As I’m sitting down having a conversation with our guests, a full glass of cold contents spill all over me. I dry myself off, and ask Z if we can go home. To his defense, again, he missed the whole drink spilling scene. I continue my conversation and down goes another drink. This time it’s not cranberry juice, its a clients whiskey glass. I hate the smell of whiskey. I had witnesses both times and none of us could understand what was going on. This time however Z saw the entire thing, helped me clean myself off and said his goodbyes so we could start heading home.

On our way out I remind him I’m till hungry so we proceed to go to a local diner that’s supposed to be very good. As we are walking towards the diner, Z changes my name to Patricia to which my friends respond with confusion…I quickly clarify to all that my name is indeed Karla and not to worry, Z is not going crazy he has simply gone back in time.
 
                                                 

We would have shared a meal in silence had it not been for my amazing friends who cleared the air. We finally get home and we go to bed in silence. I wake up at 3:00 am running towards the toilet with an intense urge to throw up. Z is in the other restroom. Our friends are also not feeling too good (I find out the next morning). Yes, you guessed it, food poisoning from the only thing we shared that evening, my favorite, pancakes.

P.S. I forgot to mention I woke up the next morning with a sore throat. 

It was March 5th, 1990 when my mother’s water broke. I had no idea what was going on. Everyone was running from one side to another and I stood in a kitchen corner crying, wanting my mother to cuddle me. My father came over and told me that my little sister was coming and that my mother wasn’t going to be able to take me to school. I could see my mothers facial expressions and I knew she was in pain as she kneeled down in front of me, told me she loved me, not to worry and that she would be back soon. I knew this day would come, I had had 9 months to prep mentally, knowing very well I would no longer be the baby and I was devastated. Little did I know that the coming of my little sister would be the best gift my parents would ever give me. 

The first vivid memory of DeeDee was when she came home. They placed her on the couch so everyone could see. I couldn’t see. There were so many people over and I was so little. By the time I made it up close I wanted nothing more than all the attention this little bundle of joy was getting. I was sad. But as DeeDee started to reach different milestones I fell in love with her more and more. She was the baby that fit perfectly in my baby stroller, she had the softest little hands that fit perfectly in mine, she had the perfect toothless smile that cheered me up every time I had tears running down my cheeks (which was very often!), she was the little sister everyone dreams of and I was blessed to receive.

DeeDee is now an adult. She is studying child development and has worked in so many children ministries and centers, impacting children by simply being around them. Some call her the baby whisperer because there has never been a baby that she hasn’t been able to console and have them fall in love with her. She is passionate about children, ensuring that they are instructed and disciplined in a loving environment.

DeeDee your are so incredibly special to me, Z and Natey. If it wasn’t for my milk factory that Natey can smell a mile away, he’d probably would never even look back at me 😉 Thank you for being an AMAZING sister, always being there for us, being the super positive and calm voice in the delivery room and for the endless love you shower Natey with every day of the week.

Cho Cho 😉

The truth is there are a thousand shades of gray, blue, pink, you name it, you have choices, just go to Home Depot and try asking for gray. I haven’t read the book but I’ve been told about its content, given what I know, I’m not headed that way with this post. Perspectives, this is what I’m going to write about. My husband always says that the way you choose to look at things that happen in life determines what type of result you will go through in that given situation. I also recently read the same kind of message from a book my father in law gave me for Christmas,  Life’s Greatest Lessons: 20 Things That Matter by Hal Urban, teacher turned writer. I’m not finished with the book yet but he does make some very interesting points on the way you choose to look at things and how those decisions lead you, in essence, to better or worse.

I completely understand this concept, it’s like Friedrich Nietzsche’s argument on truth, there is no truth since its based on a perspective, so you can technically say there is no truth outside of a perspective. Ok, so before I go into an in depth study of Nietzsche (flashbacks of my Rhetoric classes as an undergrad at Berkeley) I will get on with it. Today I was told I was choosing to see a certain situation at its worse, this coming from my positive outlook on life husband. After I hung up the phone, I thought really hard about it, I even dreamed about it and then the light bulb came on, he was wrong in this situation and so was Hal Urban. Well maybe not completely wrong, but I’ll explain.

What is to say that something truly negative happens, yes you can still look at it from a positive perspective (lessons learned, what not to do again, what to do differently in the future…I get it) but does that then make the antagonist’s actions forgotten, simply overlooked, forgiven…you should forgive when possible, by all means I’m all for it, but I feel as though in my situation the antagonist is getting a jail free card and somehow I’m the one feeling bad about it now! Something isn’t right.

To clarify, Urban doesn’t simply say to forget and move on, but that’s what my husband told me to do and though I initially thought he was right, he is wrong. The actions committed (they aren’t serious by any means but I felt light should be shed on the issue) were still insensitive and the antagonist should take responsibility instead of trying to turn the tables and make the victim feel as if her feelings are unjustified.

So there, I’ve said my peace and I hope my husband can see it too.

Today I got some bad news. I knew immediately before anything was said that the news wasn’t going to be good news. As he started to tell me what I had a hunch was going to be said (hints here and there weeks prior), I immediately wanted to start crying and walk out of the living room. But I didn’t. I stayed and played it cool even though my eyes immediately watered, my face felt as though it was burning and what felt like a gulf ball had formed in my throat. If you’ve ever experienced this ball in your throat sensation you know very well that once the feeling is there, you’re probably not going to say anything unless you are prepared to sound like you’re about to have a breakdown. And if you’re anything like me, you’ll probably start crying because you won’t be able to hold back.

This has been a problem since I was a little girl. I would cry over being pushed by my older sister, if my brother teased me excessively, or if someone spoke to me too harshly. It was normal to see me cry in my household, yet it hardly had the effect I wanted it to have because I did it almost every day! Thankfully I am no longer so sensitive but every now and then I’ll let it out.

Today would have been one of those days where tears were very justified but I held back (I was very proud of myself!), only to realize that it really only made me feel worse. Natey was up almost all night yesterday so I got very little sleep last night. After the bad news conversation was had I put Natey down for a nap and  snuggled right next to him deciding that I too needed a nap. I woke up to DD picking up Natey as he cried next to me letting me know he was unhappy 🙂 In hindsight I’m glad I didn’t say anything. I avoided swollen eyes ( I get them every time I cry!), had time to think about what I felt and how I’m going to let him know that it’s truly not ok, although I stated otherwise. 

The conversations ended with him embracing me, kissing me, telling me he loved me, and asking me not to be mad. I’m not mad, I know he loves me and I appreciate him talking to me but I’m devastated. So as I write this post tonight, watching Natey sleep and missing Z (he’s out of town for the weekend), I’m glad everything unfolded the way it did. Not everything went according to plan but I did have it in me to maintain my composure when it felt like the walls around me were crumbling down.

To better days 🙂

…Or so I thought. Today in my mommy and me class I finally had the courage to ask the dreaded question, “Is anyone else losing their hair?” to which more than half of the mommy’s responded to immediately. It was as if I placed the television on mute and turned it off as soon as I was done asking my question.

My friend Adri told me to read a book called The Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy: Or Everything Your Doctor Won’t Tell You by Vicki Iovine when I told her I was pregnant. The book does a very good job of talking about things that no one tells you about either because they don’t remember or simply because their embarrassed. Having read the book I thought I was pretty prepared for everything that was to come, and thus far the book has done well by me until a couple weeks ago when my hair started to fall out. I know what you’re thinking (my hair falls out all the time Karla, it’s normal ) yes, it is, but post-pregnancy (not if you’re one of the lucky few) you will shed worse than a dog.

Disgusting. I know. But I wanted you to see. I rolled the hair into a ball to make it visible to the camera. This is not even a days worth of hair, this is hair loss from a 5 minute shower! I feel like a baby with the amount of baby hair I have. I even have bangs now due to all the hair that is coming in. So there, I’ve said it and now you know what to expect if you ever have a baby. I was hesitant to blog about it because I didn’t want everyone looking at my head but it would’ve been nice to know prior, it would’ve saved me a lot of stress thinking I was malnutritioned.

Have a good night 🙂

Meet Maggie Zurbrugg-Johnson 🙂 She was born February 2012, and joined our family in March 2012.  Although massive, Maggie is still a puppy so as you may have guessed she is quite the wild child. She greets everyone with a huge hug, launching an entire 60 pounds on you while she kisses you all over.

She was one of six puppies, the biggest of them all but the saddest of them, laying next to her siblings, missing her mother and that’s what made her so cute! Luckily she came home with the best parents a dog could ever ask for, Grosi (grandma in Swiss-German) and grandpa Steve.

Maggie starts her day off every day with a run with her mommy, running 45 minutes around town, which soothes her for about 2 hours before she is up and actively looking for trouble. She has destroyed expensive phones, shoes, hats, all her dog beds, a jacuzzi cover, chairs, tables, baby toys, all her toys, hoses, gutters, a water fountain gifted to Grosi for a birthday…and her latest victim, Natey’s orchid. Natey was given an orchid the day he was born and up until a couple days ago, the orchid was still alive ( well not exactly, I forgot to water it and it was nearing death, Grosi came to the rescue as the plant whisperer that she is and began her work to bring this orchid back to its normal state, mind you she is extremely good at this).

The good news is that Maggie is now in obedient school, getting some one on one training and thus far, she is well on her way to becoming a tad less wild. So you can see why you wouldn’t overlook such a puppy, she yearns for everyone’s love and attention. Well, Natey didn’t care for Maggie until Sunday, when he discovered Maggie was part of our family. There really isn’t much to this post other than this super cute video I wanted to share. I hope you enjoy listening to Natey’s giggles as much as we enjoyed watching him discover his soon to be best friend.