My Lack of a Social Filter

A social filter to me is being able to control what you say and how you say it in certain situations. I am blessed with friends that are just like me. They don’t care what I say. I’m so used to this type of environment that often, outside of it, I say things which aren’t “socially acceptable.” I’m also lucky that I share this insufferable disease with my husband. He’s worse.

Everybody has “that friend.” The one you take to meet your innocent baptist grandmother and she can’t stop swearing like a sailor. I’m that friend. Not necessarily with swearing, it’s probably the only thing I do have control over. My problem is I get on a subject and start talking, somehow it leads to somewhere inappropriate and I keep going with it. I can see the uneasiness in the eyes of my company but I CAN’T STOP. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Maybe it’s because the couple my husband and I hang out with most often are just like us. We have no reservations there. I walk into their house and tell them I’m about to go “blow ass” in their bathroom. (Too much? SEEEE?) Both my husband and I have families that are just like us. So in normal life I don’t have any conversation restrictions and it doesn’t help when there is no conversation I’m uncomfortable speaking about.

Here we find ourselves at story time again.

My friends I often speak of, Jake and Tamra, have two pugs. They had three but we took one, Osiris, off their hands. He is lovely dog. Anyhow, Osiris banged their dog Claudia and BAM, six baby pugs. We had sold all of them except one. We finally had a couple coming to pick this little guy up. This couple only had experience with larger dogs. So we were giving them some much needed advice about taking care of pugs. Now I’m not sure how many of you have, or have had, pugs. Above their barely-existent nose is a flap of skin. This flap needs pulled up and cleaned often. We learned the hard way. A short time after we got Osiris we noticed this flap was inflamed. At first we didn’t know what was wrong but after a little research we found out all we had to do was lift it up, wipe it, and put Vaseline on it to avoid more friction. (Keep in mind, I am telling these total strangers this story.) So we held Osiris down and lifted up the flap. There were boogers and gooey stuff all up in it and I described this mess to this woman as being similar to pulling apart a grilled cheese sandwich. I made some pretty gnarly sound effects to go with it. The woman’s jaw dropped and she gagged. Tamra kindly shooed me away and I went and sat down.

This whole time I’m thinking about how often I do this. How uncomfortable I truly make some people feel. Since then, I’ve probably done the same thing a hundred more times. I just can’t control myself. Maybe it’s the shock factor. I don’t know. Also, like I had mentioned before, Cody has the same problem. His works in a slightly different way. He’s that jerk that tells everyone exactly what they need to hear but don’t want to.

So together we go out in public making everyone feel uncomfortable. When it all comes down to it, we have fun and it doesn’t really matter. It gives me some things to laugh about when I’m feeling down.
Time for bed.


That Point in a Relationship When You Are Comfortable Enough to Fart

This post is pretty random and honestly just a thought I had today. My husband is probably going to kill me for some of the things I am about to say.

The beginning of relationship is awkward. You are trying to be yourself but at the same time trying to hold back certain things that might scare them away. Some examples might include certain bodily functions, maybe you might spontaneously jump into song and dance (I know a friend, you know. Not me???), or perhaps you have a particularly annoying habit you’re aware of. Isn’t it magical, though, when you come to the part of a relationship where you can freely fart and not be embarrassed.

This brings us to story time. Cody and I had been dating for maybe two months. We were laying in bed watching a movie. It had become a habit for Cody to drink a glass of milk before bed. I noticed this pattern where he would drink his glass of milk and he would be gone the next morning by 6 or 7 a.m. and he was often complaining of stomachaches. One night he offered me a glass of milk. I politely declined, I’m lactose intolerant. That’s when it clicked. He is lactose intolerant as well. Now all the stomach pains and early morning departures to drop the kids off at pool, if you know what I mean, made sense.

Once I connected all the dots, I straight out told him, “if we are going to do this whole long term thing, you have to get comfortable with farting in front of me.”. That boy didn’t miss a beat. No sooner or later than five seconds, he released a window rattler. A gas quake, if you will.

I have friends to this day who have been married or together for quite some time and still feel uncomfortable releasing their inner demons in the company of their spouse. This is astounding to me. I just don’t understand it. My advice to all couples: if you aren’t comfortable to fart, or sing in the shower, or dance like a white girl in front of your partner without being judged, just do it. And if they judge you negatively for it… In my opinion they are just a waste of time.

It may sound cliche but life is too short to waste time hiding parts of yourself for fear of being judged or getting embarrassed. Just do what you do and if they embrace this part of you, keep them.

I’ll get back at you all with another of my completely random, irrelevant thoughts. Haha.

Portia ūüôā


How To Easily Entertain Your 4-Year-Old Twins

Ha.  I fooled you.  4 year old twins practically entertain themselves.  The more realistic title of this post should be, How Easily Your 4-Year-Old Twins Keep Themselves Entertained.  In my wild 4 years of parenting, I have experienced some extreme difficulties, bouts of insanity, and those rare moments of pure calm and relaxation. 


I’m not sure if other mothers of twin will agree or disagree. ¬†Maybe I’m just lucky. ¬†From my experience, this whole year has been blissful. ¬†Aside from the sibling rivalry, which is totally inevitable, my girls have been getting along famously. ¬†My normal motherly duties continue, but now I am constantly hearing, “No momma, I’ll do it myself,” or “I don’t need your help.” ¬†They dress themselves, feed themselves, go to the bathroom all alone, buckle up on their own. ¬†Everything has gotten so much easier. So to my fellow twin mommies,¬†It gets easier, better, and most enjoyable around this age. ¬†

My girls have been spending the majority of their time playing Barbies in their room or their new favorite game outside, Scientist and Scientist Helper. ¬†They literally sit in front of a little hole my pug dug up and we filled, with their little mini lawn chairs, sticks in their hands, poking the dirt. ¬†That’s it. ¬†They poke dirt for hours upon hours on end. ¬†I ask them, “what are you playing?” ¬†
Kira replies, “I’m a rock scientist.”
Marley says, “I’m the scientist helper.”
So I imply that they are geologist and I get this response. “No, mom. ¬†We are¬†rock¬†scientist.”

They just crack me up. ¬†I’m just sitting back enjoying every second I can before puberty rocks my world. ¬†

To other mothers of twin babies, just sit tight.  Times are tough and believe me, I remember.  Maybe this is eye of the storm but you have such a beautiful time ahead of you.  Multiples are such tough work, they really are.  It gets brighter, sleep gets longer, times become easier.

Holding tight to these moments,



My best/worst quality… Stubborness

I’ve been battling a pretty bad fever the last few days. Sorry for the lack of posts.
I’ve been told time and time again how stubborn I am. It works at times to either my advantage or disadvantage. Although, I like to think to my advantage.
When I was 16 and my mom found out I was pregnant, she gave me the whole lecture. “Do you realize how hard it is? Do you know how much diapers or a can of formula costs?” But I was head strong on going through with it and being a damn good mother. I got married and moved out because my mom said she wouldn’t live with a crying baby. It wasn’t until I had my first ultrasound at 21 weeks that I was told I was having twins. That’s when my mom came around and changed her mind. She hated my husband and wanted nothing more than for me to move in with her and help me. And yet, I wanted to do it on my own. I wanted to prove people wrong.
My mom even insisted on 2 weeks off after the birth to stay at my apartment with me and help, I declined.
I took on caring for twins at 17 without a complaint, by myself (with a worthless husband.) I look back at the experience now and wonder how I did it. It was so hard but I was so determined to make everyone think that I was doing it all without a single problem. I was constantly stressed and worried and tired. Now, I wish I had just accepted the help, but then again I am so terribly stubborn.
I’ve been so stubborn that I have ruined relationships.
So in some ways this dominant trait of mine can work against me. There have been times I thought I was right in certain arguments or disagreements with a friend. I absolutely refused to see their side of the story. Let’s just say i have a hard time walking a mile in someone else’s shoes. I have been working on trying to use it only to my advantage, to learn to pick my battles and know when I’m wrong.
I still have a hard time accepting help but over time I’ve found myself in sticky situations and realized I can either struggle or accept a little help.
All in all its a battle I am working on and I have a great support system to help with that. I’m thankful for my family and friends. They truly keep me smiling.
Thanks for reading everyone,


Becoming your mother

As a child when you are in trouble sitting in your room “thinking about what you’ve done,” this thought has crossed each of our minds…. When I am a parent I will not be like her.

Now in many ways I parent differntly than my mom. As I have said before, my parents were very strict. I tend to let a lot more things go. My mother and step-dad had a spotless house. And I love you mom, but that sparkling house was accomplished through the blood, sweat, and tears of your three children. I do assign chores and I’m sure they will do more when they get older. My point with all this is, I don’t know if it’s just me, I feel extremely uncomforatable in spit shined houses. They more resemble a museum than a home and I am deathly afraid of even sneezing in one. What my mother never realized is there is not one person that would walk in our house with a few dishes in the sink or a shelf left undusted and think, “this woman with three children and a full time job is downright disgusting.”

However, as the years of my own motherhood go on I catch my self saying and doing things I had promised myself as a child to never do. There are still a few things I refuse to do. For example, my step-dad would always order me to do something and I would say okay. He would say, “no, its not okay.”. That phrase would literally crawl in my skin and feast on my innards. Too graphic? I apologize. But seriously, I never said it was okay, I simply said okay. I caught myself a few words into this phrase and I had to stop talking, walk away and take a breather.

My kids are constantly testing my nerves and I try to watch what I say to try and not be my mother. Yet, in every day situations I do things here and there that send me spiraling into flashbacks, or more specifically nightmares, of my mother. As I get older, I find myself looking in the mirror and actually seeing my mother.

I do have to give her credit, though. My mommy lives in Australia and the distance has given me time to really think about her. I recently had a conversation with her and finally told her what is every mother’s goal. Raising your children to get good grades, have good manners, get into college, become a rocket scientists, or what have you, is most certainly important. But most important is when they become a parent and having this conversation. “Mom, you were right. Everything you did, everything you said, all the wrong I thought you did… You were right.”
It puts a smile on my face just thinking of her. So if you haven’t had this conversation with your mother yet, get on your phone. She has been waiting.
Until next time,


Twins, twins, twins!

Marley Kay Martinez: Born September 27th, 2008 at 5:01 p.m weighing 5.1 pounds.
Kira Lee Martinez: Born September 27th, 2008 at 5:04 p.m. weighing 5.4 pounds.

You read right… 5:01/5.1 and 5:04/5.4 ¬†That’s the most amazing coincidence ever, don’t ya think?

July 8th 2013, Pre Wedding 091

Marley is a follower. ¬†She does what her sister says and she’s quite the push over. ¬†She takes the fall for her sister all the time. ¬†If Kira did something wrong, Marley will take the blame for it. ¬†So as you can tell, she is a sweetheart by nature. ¬†She is the first to say sorry and is always loving on her sister.
Kira, on the other hand, is dominant. ¬†She’s bossy, she’s the leader, and she is almost always the one that comes up with all the mischievous plans. ¬†She isn’t all bad, though. ¬†She is very loving and she takes care of her sister. She won’t think twice about yelling at anybody that my have done her sister wrong.

I’ve been told by multiple babysitters and people in general, that they are the best behaved children they have watched. ¬†They know their manners and they use them. ¬†I may have been 17 when I had them, but I’m doing something right. ¬†I think as a mother there has to be a balance between knowing when to discipline your children and when to let things go. ¬†My parents were very strict with me and my brothers growing up. ¬†The littlest of offenses could be a month of grounding or a decent spanking. ¬†Anything from not vacuuming my room to eating food without permission was on the same level as lying or stealing. ¬†It was tough but I did learn an infinite amount of knowledge about parenting from it. ¬†With my children, I know when to give them a little spanking, send them to their room, or have a decent discussion about what they did wrong.

My kids don’t cry when they aren’t allowed to get something at the store and they definitely don’t throw tantrums in public.

Don’t get me wrong, no matter how well disciplined any child might be, they all have their days. ¬†My girls are not always perfectly behaved by any means. ¬†Especially around me. ¬†It drives my husband crazy that they will be total brats when I am home, but I will leave them with Cody when I go to work. They are magically turned into perfect angels. ¬†He says when I am not there they do what they are told and are quite polite. ¬†I’ve also been told this by almost anyone that watches them.

Enough bragging and on to my other thoughts on twins.

I often get asked, “Is it harder to have twins?” ¬†“How do you do it?”

Answer to the the second question: Simple, I have no choice but to figure it out.It’s hard for me to answer the first question. ¬†First of all, the only children I have are my twins. ¬†So would I know? ¬†Secondly, it is and it isn’t, let me explain.
The best way to describe it is for the first two year it’s hard. ¬†I mean really hard. ¬†I’m talking no sleep. ¬†You don’t get one sick child. ¬†You don’t change one diaper. ¬†You don’t make one bottle. ¬†Imagine everything you have to do with one baby and double it. ¬†It is truly tough.
However, imagine watching two children learn how to roll over, sit up, laugh, crawl, walk, talk, speak all at separate times and in separate ways, with different personalities. ¬†It’s such a beautiful experience.

After two years old, it’s a breeze. ¬†They constantly have their best friend. ¬†Everyday is a sleep over.

I recently went to a friend’s house and she has one daughter that’s 3. ¬†Holy exhausting! “Mommy play dolls with me.” ¬†“Mommy watch t.v. with me.” ¬†I couldn’t help but ask her, “How do¬†you¬†do it?”

My kids play outside together, they watch t.v. together, they color together, they play dolls together.  As bad as this may sound, they hardly ever need me.  Of course, I do spend as much time playing and enjoying their company as I can.  But they have someone more on their level that is always there. Sometimes I seriously feel more like a cook than a mother.

So my answer to the first question is yes and no. ¬†Who knows what my answer could be a few years from now. I can’t decided if I am more scared or excited to find out.

Warning:¬†To all those women who dream of having identical twins so they can dress them alike and have two adorable duplicates, I’m about to (hopefully no more than mildly) annoy you.

My girls never dress alike other than for family photos, but who doesn’t. ¬†My children have two distinctly separate personalities. ¬†I wouldn’t go as far as to say that they are day and night because in many ways they are similar. ¬†They share the same interests. ¬†However, Marley’s favorite color is pink, Kira’s is purple (or brown.) ¬†Marley prefers to wear dresses, Kira likes skirts. ¬†
Aside from the few times that my family (more specifically my mother, who is one of those people who thinks twins should dress the same) buys them matching clothes, they pick out what clothes they like and they choose what to wear for the day. ¬†Very rarely will they choose matching clothes but when they do it’s something along the lines of choosing the same shirt but different bottoms. ¬†


So basically all I can say from what experience I have, twins are fun. I wouldn’t want it any other way, besides the fact that I am downright baby hungry and I desperately want to have another. Deep down I know the timing is just not right. If any of you have questions I would be more than happy to answer them, especially any other mothers of twins. I love my girls, I love my life. Tomorrow’s topic is going to be a funny one, for me at least. So keep reading!
Laugh on…


Drum roll please…. My previous life and where I am now.

As you probably read in my previous post, I was pregnant at 16 (did I ever tell you how much I hate the show 16 and pregnant, I was nothing like those idiots). ¬†My boyfriend at the time was 20. ¬†You could see where this could cause some problems. ¬†My school somehow got a hold of this information and called the police. ¬†That’s how I ended up getting married, at 16. ¬†It was literally a 24 hour decision. ¬†Prison or marriage?

The two previous years I had taken summer school and extra classes to graduate early. ¬†I may have been dumb for not using contraception, but I am a fairly smart girl. ¬†I received straight a’s and had an amazing score on my ACTs. ¬†I had plans. ¬†I found out I was pregnant and three weeks later I was done with school, a year and a half ahead of my class.
I always says, “yeah, I graduated a year and a half early. ¬†I celebrated by getting knocked up.”

My ex was not ready. ¬†He didn’t want to marry me, but he wanted less to go to prison. ¬†He had no ambitions, didn’t want to get a job. ¬†He was extremely selfish and only cared about himself. ¬†We moved from this house to that house, to this income based apartment, to that friend’s house. ¬†He almost always lost every job he got within a month and still does to this day (to you single mothers, what does a child support check feel like?) ¬†Even after having the girls, nothing changed. ¬†We fought constantly, including physical fights.

Other than the first few months after my childrens’ birth and a portion of my pregnancy, I worked, I changed diapers, I made bottles. ¬†I was a single parent with a spouse. ¬†

Eventually, it hit me. ¬†What’s the point? ¬†Why would I stay ¬†when I’m better off by myself? ¬†So I did just that. ¬†I went out and got my own apartment. ¬†I worked and I took care of my children. ¬†I may have only been 16 when I got pregnant but my children have always had everything thing they need and I have always been there for them. After 8 months or so of living on my own, I eventually met a guy that took care of me, and kept a job, and paid his bills! They exist. ¬†The relationship proved to be pointless and have no meaning. ¬†So after two years of trying to convince myself that he was a good guy and I won’t get better, I opened my eyes, and realized I had been kidding myself. ¬†We were both in a relationship that neither of us wanted. ¬†So, again, I left.

Thankfully, my parents had just moved to Australia. ¬†Their house was empty and waiting for me to move in. ¬†Soon after moving to my mother’s house (RENT FREE!) I met Cody.

Another little quick background story. ¬†I met Cody at the Wayside Cafe, where he was a cook and I was a server. ¬†It’s the busiest restaurant in town and I make damn good money there. ¬†I did have a job at AT&T for a while towards the beginning of our relationship. Money wasn’t a problem but they worked me to the bone and I felt like I never saw my children. ¬†When Cody moved in, we realized we had enough money to live off his income with two days of work a week from me (and a little help from my mom to get started.) ¬†

Back to Cody. ¬†He is amazing. We laugh, we dance, we sing. ¬†We are open with each other. ¬†No secrets, no jealousy, no conditions, or terms and agreements. ¬†We communicate, which is the most beautiful part, except for how much he adores my girls. ¬†He’s new to parenting and he picks up fast. ¬†They love him and now that we are recently married, we make a spectacular family and the girls love having a step-dad. ¬†

So there’s my story. ¬†I’m sure little tidbits will pop up here and there, but my past is my past and I couldn’t be happier with the present. ¬†And I’ve stopped worrying about the future. ¬†I’ve decided that this moment is too precious to waste on fretting. ¬†Who has the time for it anyway? ¬†If there’s one thing I learned, everything works out. ¬†Put your heads together, come up with a solution. ¬†If a solution doesn’t arise, it with fall right out of the sky. ¬†

That’s all for now.

Keep smiling,