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This is what I saw on my way to class this morning. Well, it wasn’t technically a sunrise, but it sure did look pretty.

It definitely set the stage for what has already been a fantastic day.

I’ve been ridiculously addicted to Sundance Channel’s “Live From Abbey Road” since I discovered it a few months ago. The second season opened with Bryan Adams, Ben Harper, and Justin Currie. Harper (who is unfortunately not related to me) talks about his background in music and his love for writing. As a writer (and a writing teacher), I was more than impressed to hear what he had to say.

“Inspiration is the moment I pull out my book. I never leave home without these two things: the moleskin and the pen. And then you just dig in, you just get pages. So at the end, you have a book, and each book tells a story. I go through about about a book every couple weeks. It’s just all about the ideas and what’s going on. Ideas get hummed into a tape machine or telephone answering machine.



The majority of my day ends up in a book. Because I know it’ll retain it. I wish I could retain everything I hear and every conversation I have that’s worth repeating, but I don’t. So I always just… you’ll see me in a corner and that’s how every day… really it’s the best way to stay inspired daily. Just take the best parts of life and get them on the page.”

This dialogue came after his performance of “Better Way” from his 2006 album Both Sides Of The Gun. I have heard the song several times, but to see it performed live was mesmerizing. He sings with such passion and conviction that you feel every word in the deepest part of you. I’ve seen him perform live twice now, and I was less than impressed. But watching him sing “Better Way” gave me chills. Maybe it’s because of the state of our current economy and the upcoming election, but the lyrics and his performance resonated within me and gave me inspiration for this post.

Here are the lyrics for “Better Way”:

I’m a living sunset,
Lightning in my bones.
Push me to the edge,
But my will is stone.



‘Cause I believe in a better way!



Fools will be fools,
And wise will be wise.
But I will look this world
Straight in the eyes.



I believe in a better way!
I believe in a better way!



What good is a man
Who won’t take a stand?
What good is a cynic
With no better plan?



I believe in a better way!
I believe in a better way!



Reality is sharp;
It cuts at me like a knife.
Everyone I know
Is in the fight of their life!



I believe in a better way!



Take your face out of your hands
And clear your eyes.
You have a right to your dreams
And don’t be denied.



I believe in a better way!
I believe in a better way!
I believe in a better way!

The lyrics that stick out most to me are “Everyone I know /Is in the fight of their life!” and “Take your face out of your hands /And clear your eyes. /You have a right to your dreams / And don’t be denied.” Although this was written in 2006, it sounds to me as if it were written today.

Everyone I know is struggling to make ends meet. It’s hard to pay for increasing gas prices and living expenses when wages stay the same and the stock market goes down.

The last verse is the most important and has a call to action for its listeners. We can’t sit around and feel sorry for ourselves and our situations. We have to fight for what we want, what we dream of, and we can’t take no for an answer.

With the election coming up in less than two months, we have an option to make a difference. While you make think that your one vote won’t matter, you couldn’t be more wrong. And if you truly believe in one party over the other, then you have an even greater chance to make a change by letting your voice be heard to as many people who will listen.

I believe there’s a better way, and I hope you do too.

Why is it that I can’t seem to tell anyone “no”? No, I can’t edit your manuscript for free. No, I can’t go out with you tonight because I have things to do in the morning. No, I can’t write about diagnosing video cards because I don’t know anything about them.

While working at a large $oftware company as a recruiter, I had the worst manager ever. She was cruel and rude and selfish (I called her a “frigid bitch” on my last day there). But she gave me a great piece of advice that I have every intention on taking sometime in the near future:

“Don’t overcommit and underdeliver or you’ll lose credibility to your customers.”

I’ve even found myself giving this same piece of advice to others but can’t seem to apply it to my own situations. Here I am, struggling to get everything done for the friends / family / clients that I’ve told I’d do stuff for. And when I feel I’ve taken on too much (or am juggling too many balls in the air as my dad likes to say), every thing and every one suffers.

From now on, I’m learning to just say no. Please don’t take offense if I tell you I can’t watch your kids or can’t come over for dinner. I just need to take some time for myself to get the things done that are important to me right now.

It’s been nearly two months since my last post. And I call myself a writer? Sheesh. Most writers write every day because they have to - it’s something inside them that has to get out no matter what. But what have I been doing with my time, you ask? Struggling to stay above water, that’s what.

I work for myself as an internet marketing and social media marketing consultant and as a freelance writer. In less than two weeks, I start a new gig as a part-time English instructor at the community college here in Reno.

I also manage my husband’s mixed martial arts (MMA) fighting career and that of the 10 or so guys we have that train under my husband. We were thinking about opening a gym but have decided to keep it right where it is - in my house. Except now we’ve moved from the single-car garage to the entire basement.

Oh yeah, and I have two wonderful children that I work the hardest at to raise into happy, healthy children that love and appreciate life and all its intricacies. We planted tomatoes this season and check every day to see the progress. We go on long walks in our amazing neighborhood and go swimming nearly every chance we get.

And, when Miles feels like it, he’ll play hide-and-seek without telling me. I freaked out after I couldn’t find him for five minutes, so I called 911. I found him 30 seconds later, hiding in my car. The cops showed up and searched my house, making sure I wasn’t cooking a pot of meth on the stove I guess.

Just five short days after that bad mom experience, I took the kids and the dog for our morning walk. This time, I thought I’d be smart and fix Doug’s leash to the stroller before hooking him up. For two blocks, it was great: Doug was helping me pull the stroller, and Miles was getting a kick out of having his dog so close. A neighborhood dog - and friend of Doug - was off his leash and came up to play. They’re both BIG dogs and pulled Amelia’s stroller over, causing her to hit face-first on the pavement. She has a fractured nose, a ruptured mucous membrane, and a dislocated septum. We’ll know next week whether or not she needs surgery.

So, that should explain my two-month hiatus. I’m not one to make excuses; I just like to point out facts. I’m way too busy to do anything for myself, including writing, and that breaks my heart.

When a down-and-out looking guy knocked on my door a couple weeks ago, saying he was short on money for diapers for his baby, my heart cried out to him. He said he would cut my lawn for whatever change I could give him. We asked if he could pull the weeds, and he said he would. Two hours later, we gave him $30 and a bottle of rum leftover from a previous cocktail party. We felt good about helping out someone in need, especially since he had a baby at home.

A couple days later, he came by the house again. This time, he said his lawnmower was broken and asked if he could use ours. (Our lawnmower has an attachment that catches the clippings instead of strewing them about the lawn.) My husband didn’t really want to but wanted to ask me since I’m the one with the “heart of gold” as he puts it. Since we didn’t know where he lived and couldn’t find him if he ran off with our lawnmower, I said no. The guy seemed okay with that.

A couple days after that, he knocked on the door, asking if my husband was home. Since he thought I was the one who said he couldn’t use our lawnmower, he didn’t want to deal with me. I told him my husband was sleeping - it was 10pm on a Sunday night - and asked what he wanted. He said he needed money to catch a bus somewhere. I couldn’t really understand him because our 115lb American Bulldog, Doug, was barking like crazy. I told him we didn’t have extra cash because we had to pay rent this week. He said okay and left.

Not even 24 hours passed, and he knocked on the door again, asking for my husband. This time, he said he needed money to fix his car and blah, blah, blah. I was pretty upset because I had told him a few hours before that I didn’t have any extra money to give him, yet here we was, begging on my doorstep for more money.

I like to think of myself as a good person who likes to help people. But I feel that this guy has completely taken advantage of mine and my husband’s generosity. It’s come to the point that I don’t feel safe in my house alone anymore. What has society come to when helping a person can make you feel like a prisoner in your own home?

Spring is my favorite time of year — when birds are making their nests, the daffodils are blooming, and I’m in full cleaning mode. It’s a time for rebirth for me: a time to clean up my house, my mind, my attitude.

A few weeks ago, my husband and I took the kids to Daffodil Hill, a family-owned farm in the alpine mountains of eastern California. Just a two-hour drive from Reno, Daffodil Hill sits in beautiful Amador County near a small town called Volcano. When I first visited, I was with my boyfriend, on my second trip, my fiance, and my last trip was with my husband and two kids. It has been a place of rebirth for our relationship.

Check out the pics below and let me know what you think.

Go to Daffodil Hill’s website to learn more.

I originally wanted to call this post, “Six Flights in Four Days: How I Traveled Across the Country with My 10-month-old Baby,” but I thought that might be a little long. But I want this to be a sort of “how-to” article for other parents flying for the first time with their child/ren. Below is what I did - what worked for me and my baby - so take what you want and try for yourself.

Tips to flying with an infant

• Own seat or your lap: Because my daughter loves to be held (and because I didn’t want to pay $450 for her own seat), she sat on my lap. Decide if your baby will be able to sit still for the length of the flight, and if so, tell the airlines you want your child on your lap. It’s mostly free (only cost $30 for processing), so if you think it’ll work, I suggest holding the child on the flight. If you plan to get your child a seat, you have to bring the car seat. It straps into the chair on the plane much like it does in your car, and the flight attendants are more than willing to help.

• Gate check your stroller and car seat: While it’s not that easy to put your carry on bags, stroller, and car seat on the conveyor belt by yourself, it’s so nice to be able to put the baby down while you use the restroom, buy food/drinks, etc. I found that most everyone around me was willing to help, so that made it that much easier. If you’re flying multiple flights, you’ll need to get a tag at each gate so that the crew knows where your stuff should be going. When you walk down the jetway, put your stroller and car seat at the end near the plane; when you land, it’ll be there waiting for you. If there is room on the plane, you may be able to take the car seat and strap baby into his/her own seat (if baby is a lap child).

• Be prepared for everything: One of your carry-on items should be your diaper bag. Some items to take on the plane include three more diapers than you think you’ll need, diaper wipes, two changes of clothing, any needed medicines (no more than 3oz stored in a quart bag), bottles for water/juice, pacifiers (you will lose at least one), toys (keep noisy toys to a minimum so as not to disturb your neighbors), dry snacks, nursing cover (if still breastfeeding), front- or sling carrier (if you don’t have baby’s car seat), and a blanket for baby. For you, bring a book/magazine, a pen (to do crosswords in the magazines), headphones, cash in small bills (to buy food or headphones on the flight), and anything else you might want to keep you entertained in case your baby sleeps. There’s nothing worse than watching an in-flight movie and not getting to hear the dialogue.

• Board as early as possible: Every airline has a pre-board for parents with small children, people with disabilities, and the elderly. Absolutely board the plane as early as you can. This will give you the time you need to strap in the car seat (if available) and to get everything ready before others start boarding the plane. Take this time to take items out of your carry on luggage that the baby will need during take off. I put her bottle, her pacifier, some snacks, and some small toys in the seat pocket so that I’d have them as soon as she needed them. I also gave her a small dose of Benadryl to help her allergies and allow her to sleep on the plane.

• Remember their ears pop too: When your ears start to pop during take offs and landings, remember that your child’s ears are going to need to pop too. Be sure to nurse, bottle feed, or give a pacifier during these times to help your baby’s ears. You can also tug on his/her earlobes to help open them up and can gently massage behind his/her ears. If you can, start nursing your baby just as the plane is getting ready to take off. That way, s/he is comfortable during the jarring motions of take off and is less likely to freak out. If you don’t have one, you should absolutely get a nursing cover / breastfeeding cape / hooter hider. In such close quarters, you don’t want to get exposed by a curious or wiggly baby.

• Accept help from flight attendants and other passengers: If someone offers to help you, by all means, please take it. It was so nice to use the restroom on the plane without having to hold my daughter because another passenger offered to hold her for me. People were quick to get my carry on bag that was stowed above my seat while we were getting off the plane, and when she dropped something, they always picked it up for us. If someone doesn’t offer, don’t hesitate to ask either. The worst that could happen is they say no. Because I couldn’t put our tray table down, my neighbors were more than glad to help when I asked if I could my put my drink, her bottle, etc. on their table.

• Use time on layovers wisely: If you have a layover, be sure to use that time to your advantage. Get to the nearest restroom and change diapers, clothes (if soiled), and freshen up. You can use the handicapped stall and take the entire stroller in along with baby. Buy snacks and drinks for yourself and for baby, and use the time waiting for your next flight to feed baby. It’s harder when you’re on the plane, so feed meals in between flights and save snacking for the plane. Also, let baby get as much exercise as possible during your layover. She and I both enjoyed the freedom from each other.

Before you go, talk to other parents who have flown with small children before. You’ll get a ton of advice and can use what you want. The key for me was that I was prepared for anything that could have happened, and I’m glad to get the chance to share my story here. Good luck, and happy traveling!

I’m nearing that ever important milestone on turning 30 (just two and a half weeks from this post), and I have been reflecting on just what I’ve done with my life these last three decades. The first two were pretty uneventful, but this last one sure has been a fantastic roller coaster ride.

First, here are some general statistics:

• Bones broken: 4 (radius and ulna in both arms)
• Car accidents: 13 (I was only driving in one)
• Arrests: 1 (I was 23, and now it’s off my record)
• Stitches: 20 (Two cuts before I was ten years old)
• Surgeries: 4 (Staph infection, wrist reconstruction, lumpectomy, c-section)
• Degrees: 2 (Bachelor’s in Writing, Master’s in Organizational Management)
• Marriages: 1 (Going on five years of wedded bliss)
• Children: 2 (A boy and a girl - couldn’t get any better)
• Piercings: 6 (Two in each ear, had nose and tongue both pierced)
• Tattoos: 0 (Yes, I have no tattoos… crazy I know!)

In this last decade, I’ve done quite a bit with my life:

• At 21, I was scheduling college classes around happy hours.
• At 22, I was teaching a swing dancing class at the college and attending shows and competing in events.
• At 23, I met my now husband and was able to graduate from college before doing anything crazy.
• At 24, we got engaged and moved in together.
• At 25, we got married and got pregnant six months later.
• At 26, I had my son, Miles.
• At 27, I received my master’s degree.
• At 28, I worked for a major software company and realized I’m not quite cut out for cutthroat corporate culture.
• At 29, I had my daughter, Amelia, and got into marketing.

And here I am, approaching 30 in just two short weeks. Looking back on my life, I’m exactly where I would have wanted to be if I made a plan. I’m married to the greatest guy ever, I have two wonderful children, I have an amazing education, and I’m starting a career as a writer.

It couldn’t be any better, so I’m happy to be where I am. I’m 30, and I’m okay with it.

On April 7, 2008, I will turn 30 years old. Not young, but old. For some reason, I’m putting a lot of emphasis on this milestone. I know a lot of people do, and I’ve never understood why. But now that I’m here, facing my agedness, it’s hitting me.

I’m not young anymore.

I can’t drink all night and wake up the next day as if nothing happened. No, I wake up and feel like death warmed over. I can’t jump on a bicycle and ride for miles without getting fatigued and out of breath. No, I ride for a bit and want to stop to get something drink ten minutes in. I can’t operate on three hours of sleep and fully function the next day. No, I get six hours of sleep and need to drink a pot of coffee before things start making sense.

But the strangest thing is that, in a tiny way, I still think I’m cool. I have nieces, nephews, cousins etc. who used to ask me my opinions on fashion and music and whatever, but now they’re telling me what’s in and what’s not. And them moment that I finally realized that I’m not as young and hip as I think I am is when this emo fad blew up all over.

Kids are wearing super tight pants and neon colored hoodies and have hair hanging in their faces. It reminds me of the 80’s, a time when all that nonsense was in style, but we’ve all looked back and can’t believe we used to peg our pants and rat our hair. I really hope no one reading this has a picture of me from the eigth grade. Talk about embarrassing.

And today, kids are cutting themselves, saying that it helps release the pain or whatever. What is happening to this generation? If I’m not cool and hip because I don’t buy into this garbage, I’m fine with it. These kids are trying so hard to be different, but by being different is what is making them all the same.

When I started writing this, I had plans on writing about what I’ve done in the last three decades - what milestones I’ve achieved and whatnot. But apparently this was more important for me to write.

Read on to Part Two if you’re interested on seeing some statistics on what I’ve done in the last 30 years.

I love social media and the art of building relationships with people. Whether or not we have the same interests, I love learning from others.

Networking on social media sites is a great way to learn from others and stay up-to-date on what the next “big thing” is.

Check out my profiles, send me a message, and add me as a friend:

• Delicious: michellereno
• Digg: michellereno
• Facebook: Michelle Montoya
• Gooruze: michellereno
• LinkedIn: Michelle Montoya
• MyBlogLog: Michelle My Belle
• MySpace: Michelle My Belle
• Sphinn: michellereno
• StumbleUpon: michellereno
• Twitter: michellereno

So there you have it. I am a social media butterfly.

Find me and friend me.