Mommy will be home soon my love

 

Last night as I lay in bed with Belle Fille in my arms, I felt a slight tug at my heart thinking that since the start of this semester, I haven’t spent as much time with her like when I was on summer vacation. It’s a complex feeling: I don’t feel guilty about going to college instead of staying home with her all day, but I wish I’d organized my time better so that she didn’t resent the change.

I’m not exactly worried about her (she’s as independent as ever) but I start to hesitate as I return to an image from the afternoon of her hitting her head on a window pane and crying out one word huddled in my arms: mommy, mommy, mommy. That’s all she said for a few minutes until she calmed down. Mommy, mommy. It broke my heart especially because I spent most of yesterday doing homework and felt pangs of regret. Was she calling out to me in this manner because she missed me too much? Did she feel upset because I didn’t spend time with her like she’s used to?

In fact, Belle Fille just started sleeping cradled in my arms a few weeks back. Before, she would say “move” if I held on to her for too long when we were going to sleep. Now it’s become routine for her to lay by my side with one of my arms around her for a little while before she eases out and stretches and sleeps. Is it because she’s grown more attached to me? Or is it because she needs me more now that she’s older. I don’t know.

The past week was that of adjusting back into university mode, so it’s been more of touch and go rather than planning out my time. But I’ve definitely got to get my stuff together ‘cuz it’s not just me, or even Hubby that I’ve got to consider, but my child, my sweet baby girl that I cherish and that is in my care. I am aware that time is short as I’ve seen her grow so quickly. I don’t want to waste my time, rather, I’ll consciously make most of the time I’ve got so that while still getting things done at school and at home, my family knows And Feels that they are the most important to me, what I most enjoy.

My beautiful Belle Fille. Mommy will be home soon my love.

A moment of hesitation

There's been an outbreak of babies in my neighborhood. Just on my block are three newborns, beside two others that're slightly older. I've been visiting to check out the cuties and see how their mom's are doing, and up til now all is well. Only... well, holding these little bundles has opened this feeling in me that I'm not very familiar with. For a few seconds, holding this tiny little girl in my arms, smelling her sweet, clean baby scent, I had this longing of having another one of my own.

I mean, you know I have Belle Fille and I love her and have so much fun with her now that she's a toddler and she's so funny and spontaneous my heart swells up with pride constantly. But she was also born very big, and grew so fast so I had a very short period of time with her as a "newborn". And so, for a few seconds I want to blurt out "can I keep her?", especially to my neighbor that had twins so she should have one to spare right?

Then I remember zombiesh days when the moon and the sun blended into one seemingly eternal and slightly timeless night where you get up to feed the baby every three hours regardless of how sleep deprived you were. And I think I can handle that.

Then I worry a little about taking care of Belle Fille and the newborn simultaneously, and wonder if my eldest might get jealous of her sibling (though if I could judge from past experiences, I don't think she'll be the jealous type). And I think I can figure it out somehow.

I don't really mind a messy home, so that doesn't affect my decision. Hubby would love to have another child soon, and I always wanted my kids to be close in age so they could share the same experiences and grow up together. One by one any inquiry and query become fuzzy and disappear in such a way that I almost consider getting pregnant again. Almost.

And then the rational college student in me kicks in and freaks out. "What about school? Will you take another break? How long will it take for you to catch up with all the subjects? Will you take zoloft to manage all the stress? When the heck are you going to finish college!? "

Nope. I do not want to have another child anytime soon. From personal experience I know that things don't always happen the way you had them planned. And if another baby came we'd manage somehow. I'm not hard headed for nothing. I'm a machetito! But I will do what can be done to plan having another baby somewhere into the future when I've finished school.

Meanwhile, I'll enjoy the neighboring newborns with the plus of not having to wake up periodically in the night to feed then.

To Stand Whilst Sitting Down

Yo! How’ve you been? I’ve been, you know been. Vacations have been on for a while now, and I’ve been lazing my head off, if I’m allowed to invent a word or two. Really, after a difficult semester it’s only fair. Also, I don’t have internet at my home right now, so when I do get internet access I do as most mortals do on such occasions… and head straight to Facebook to catch up on what my friends have been up to. Don’t you just love how FB has legitimized being nosy?

Anyhoo… as to my person, like absolutely everything else that exists in this world, changes these past few weeks have made their appearance. You too, but you know me I like to document consciousness. Does that sound weird? Sure hope not, I'm just a strong supporter of knowing oneself as I’ve mentioned several times before in my posts, and I try to live and write according to what I think. Whatevs…

These changes haven’t been physical, or personality, or behavior wise. They’ve been paradigm wise. Some of the more mentally and physically exhausting I’ve been through. Why? Because we all think we’re so clever and have everything figured out and have excuses for everything except for the mistakes or faults of others. But as for ourselves, we minimize  our errors, and justify like we majored in law. To voluntarily humble yourself, accept that you’re wrong and care enough to do something about it. That’s a tad hard. And that’s what I’ve been up to.

I dunno if you ‘ve noticed, but I like myself. With my good and bad qualities, my good and bad moments. I know I’m not a genious, nor a model, nor a saint but find contentment in knowing that I try hard each day to be better. Except when I become too comfortable and allow more… mediocreness (Hmmm, I sure hope that word's in the dictionary) that I usually would.
 
I knew I wasn't doing my best, but I didn’t care as much as I should’ve. It led to conflicts with Hubby, and reflecting upon this situation, I uprooted a few things about my character that I had to work on. Like thinking I’m so clever I don’t need advice on x or y. I take my own parameters and think they’re precise, and stop taking into account The Parameters that supposedly guide me, as well as Hubbys’ parameters, which can be very different from my own.

To compromise is not something I’m very good at, because I tend to give away or commit to more that I actually feel comfortable with, and I’m kinda stubborn. To illustrate this trait, I lean on the example of a child who is told to sit, and eventually forced to sit, but says “in my insides I’m actually standing up!” You get the idea.

Only sometimes you’re wrong, and you should be humble and sit down on the outside as well as on the inside where only you know what you’re thinking. And this is the lesson I recently learned. Or at least, I’m in the process of learning, because old habits, particularly mental habits, where everything we do or don’t do starts, die hard. I’ve tried to not draw it out nor blow it out of proportion, so I’m taking more preventive actions rather than damage control. But I’m glad I’m learning this now and not later when it’s harder to change.

Humbleness, I welcome you. Please stay!

Don't Grow Up... It's a Trap! - part I

I recently saw a very funny pic that caught my attention. It said " Don't grow up.. It's a trap!" (See pic). And I couldn't agree more. Don't get me wrong, I'm not referring to youthful irresponsability nor anything like it. There's just a huge difference between growing up, growing old and ripening.

From my view point, growing up is something like conforming or adapting to the "adult" world: go to school, or get a job,to work, to become boring, get married, have kids, pay your taxes...etc. To a certain extent we can't escape from this, it's natural that life goes on and our circumstances and responsibilities have to change, but not necesarily us you know. I'm sure a regular individual is capable of retaining the essentials of their character as the years pass by even though their personality adapts and morphs depending on the circumstances.

Remember that our character depends on the inner traits that distinguish us from others, while personality is the mask we show the world, the way we face it. Maybe you have a playful nature, but when you're in a bussiness meeting you won't display that trait very often will you? Though there is a time and a place for everything, one is genuine in proportion to how the personality reflects the character. Growing up does mean being more "responsable", but the process doesn't have to change you, much less force you to conform to the likings of others or become "boring."

Growing old... is a sad, sad thing. Physically aging is not sad: what's sad is when as a person grows older and their mind is too lazy or just doesn't want to mature at the same rate. And so, we have thirty year olds, forty year olds that behave like teenagers and have tantrums like little kids. They don't understand the value of responsability, of a relationship... worse still, if they got married or have kids. It's one thing to be feckless, and another thing completely to drag others into it, specially children. The poor little things have paid way too many times for their parents mistakes.

And last of all, my favorite: Ripening. Just like a delicious fruit that you savor when it's ripe... that's what we should all aim at. It's knowing oneself, and respecting and appreciating oneself with the passing of time. We're all so wonderful and full of life and energy as children... wouldn't it be great if we could somehow keep and project all of that as adults? Sure, it's not the same things that worry us as children and as adults, and the latter are also much more tired as the norm, but isn't it worth the effort?

To accept oneself, to love oneself... to be proud of who you are. To allow our minds to be suprised by the big and little things... to smile as a butterfly passes by, to wonder where the leaves in the wind have been, to ask questions... to be like children in our hearts. What an incredible gift not only to ourselves, but to those that will follow in our footsteps, those around us. It's so easy to go with the flow and allow ourselves to give in to that frown more often, to wear a scowl, to answer bitingly instead of looking for a positive solution. But let's not give in: it is well worth it.

 Let's all ripen shall we? We'll enjoy life so much more.

The Internal Sea

How deep the ocean is, and the sea with its many colors and eternal waves. With the life inside it, and its currents, and its stillness.

It's bliss to imagine all the wonders, the mysteries, the stories it holds but just like the ocean inside us most prefer to wade near the shore and just touch the surface.

They're content when their reflection shows them what they want, upset when it doesn't, but only truly happy when it shows them who they really are.

However, they'll end up returning to the beach.

Why restrict the ocean to its limit when there is so much strength and beauty trying to burst from its within? Take a dip in your sea, in your emotions, dreams, desires and more.

Don't be afraid of getting lost because only then will you find yourself. Don't be afraid to drown because you were meant to swim and not just that.

For only sailors that know the sea can sail to far away places.

And here I have...

We went to church today and dressed up fancy (skirt and pink shoes). I used for the first time a new bag that my mother in law gave me that more than a bag is destined to be a diaper bag. As I transfered Belle Filles' stuff from the old diaper bag to the new stylish bag/diaper bag I thought of the different things I have in there:

1.- Six to seven diapers
2.- Two outfits for Belle Fille
3.- Melox for her bottom (better than any rash cream I've ever tried on her)
4.- A bottle of water
5.- Baby milk powder (vanilla, mind you. It's the only flavor Belle Fille accepts)
6.- Baby wipes
7.- My cellphone
8.- My camara

No matter how hard I try to pass my bag as a fashionable handbag, with that content, I will always have an undercover diaper bag.

The art of digressing

I feel like this is a confession of some sort.

As you know, I am very fond of digressing. Allowing my thought to wander, becoming seemingly more random as I get more and more ambiguous... It would seem as if my thoughts start to become disjointed, unrelated... but do they? Truth is, I (usually) say what I say and do what I do following a path of some sort that only I know. Sometimes my object as I seem to  verbally wander aimlessly is to amuse myself, sometimes to amuse and confuse others, sometimes to create a distraction and cloak something else.

The mode may vary, depending on my audience, my purpose, the theme, and of course my mood.

Sometimes the people that sample my digressions are close friends and can more or less understand depending on how well they know me. In these cases, depending on how much I want them to understand I also tend to give less sutil hints with my gestures and my eyes. With strangers I don't digress very often, and in the rare case I do I'm just amusing them or myself but not letting them in on any substance like I do with friends.

I have two main purposes when I digress. One is for amusement, another is for expressing myself. But I mix them very often, one leading to another. For example, I might start with something trivial and play with the subject, displaying an exagerated version of my scatterbrainyness. My friends are amused, and I'm having a good time. But if I have the need to express myself without needing others to understand I will do so in a veiled manner, keeping in tune with my lighthearted joking and messing around. But if you actually make sense of what I say, and you know me, you might understand what I mean. What I want to say, but don't necessarily want you to understand.

The theme... well you can imagine. The more personal, the more dim and in breadcrumbs I am. The less, the more literal. Then again, I can be very literal but say things in such a manner that I seem to be speaking in metaphors. I love to play with different elements of ambiguity.

My mood... well I have to feel good to digress because for me it's another way of being playful. When I'm angry or frustrated or sad I become very blunt and to the point. So the opposite feelings like being carefree, lead me to beat around the bush, to digress.

I recently talked to a friend about this matter, and laughed myself silly. See, back in high school when I felt more like digressing (just in case you haven't realized it yet, this sentence has a hint: refer to last paragraph), some of my friends actually thought there was something wrong with me! Like I had an attention deficit disorder or something! I thought they knew I was fooling around! I mean sure, I never explained this to them, but still! Oh the funnies...!

Though I now hug myself with glee at their being so naive, this makes me value my friends more. Even though they thought there was something wrong with me, they never made fun of me, nor made me feel less. They were always sweet, always genuine. I was very lucky to meet such people, and am luckier for still having them as friends.

I don't know if any of you are reading this, but thank you friends. Thanks for putting up with me even if you didn't understand me. I love y'all! :)

Scottish Garden

"If I ever do grow up," said she, "I want to be like that."
"Oh yes Odette, those flowers are very beautiful."
"Flowers? Yes, they're nice. But I'm not cut out to be a wall flower ma'am, I want to be as strong and as sturdy as that wall."

Listography: Top 5 things I love about kids

The end of semester marathon has really taken a toll on my brain, I can't string two words together just for the fun of it. So I'm particularly grateful to Kate over at Kate takes 5 for having decided to have Listography this time of the month. (Thanks Kate!)

Listography: Top 5 things I love about kids

1.- I love all the wacky, crazy things the young'uns think up. They think out of the box so to speak, because they haven't grown old and "proper" yet and built themselves one like most adults! You want to find a critical thinker, ask a kid that is completely unbiased, has no prejudice and is honestly curious about something. You'd be suprised.

2.- I love how I am with kids. See, I'm afraid I haven't totally grown up yet, I'm at the stage where you start to go from "playful" to "childish". Buuuuut when it's with kids I'm playing around, I'm more legit! x)

3.- Children don't mind making a mess and don't bother if you don't clean up. Need I say more?

4.- Since they believe pretty much anything you say, they inspire you to believe too. Who doesn't gloat when their child says to his friend: "My mom is the best mommy in the world!"?

5.- They avoid the complications and bureaucracy that adults for some bizarre reason like. They don't see that the house chores aren't done yet, your clothes don't match and you didn't "schedule" a visit to the zoo. Their logic is car + idea of visiting the zoo= visit to the zoo, and they're out the door! Spontaneous it is!

Forks

You know, my reading has been very ecclectic of late: with common ground, but contradictory. With repeated themes but viewed with different paradymes. Some well known, some totally unknown. Subjects ranging as far as psychology, phylosophy, religion, politics... (I've been using my bus time well! x) If I allowed these new thoughts true entry into my brain and heart they would pivot me in new ways and new paths.

No matter what I read I'm usually very good at filtering the new information into
a) The brain. Archived as information or culture, but not really letting it seep into me or
b) My heart. Where I allow thoughts the liberty to materialize in my behavior or worldview.

But now my own logic has been trying to make me adjust my judgement. So I would come back with my head full of new information and my heart filled with confusion.

Thankfully, the wave has passed and reflecting on all this I've come to see this process in a different light.

Of course I'll find different viewpoints than I'm used to if I don't discriminate my readings. If I wanted to avoid the clash of ideas I would discriminate what I read and shut myself up in my comfort zone. But I don't want to do that, I refuse.

On the other hand, it's perfectly normal to encounter new things, it's healthy. It's part of the thesis + antithesis = sinthesis that flows in this dialectic world. It's necessary.

Hmmm...

Wisps of smoke

I confess myself a complex and contradictory being, with halfhearted whims, powerful outbreaks and irrational inconsistencies. A romantic and realistic heart and soul. I thrive in my silent contemplations, as I close my eyes and free my soul forgetting reason and reality and I am a queen and a pauper, a danser, a damsel, and a poet.

As a queen I am haughty and arch my neck and my head bows to no one. And my choice is backed by power and I relish in it and in the power of my decisions. And I choose to be cruel or forgiving and the realization of each caprice and desire of mine depends on my wish of making them true or not.

And then I am a pauper and I thirst water and hunger bread. And I am thankful for each drop of rain that quenches my thirst and for each morsel that no matter the taste I find delicious because I managed to eat. And I thank the warm wind for being my coat and the world for being my home.

Then a noise arouses me from my slumber and my eyes open once more and I am who I used to be. And I stroke my babys hair and I caress her cheek as she sleeps and then so do I.

When again I see I am a passionate dancer and my skirt swirls like a river and my steps have the beat of fire. My hands and my eyes speak with each move, each stop, each curve I make soundlessly. And I am an object of awe and admiration, completely out of reach and slightly out of mind.

Then there is silence and my dress is bleached and the wild in my eye disappears and I am a sweet and fragile damsel. And I clutch at my throat and I shut my eyes and hug my knees and hide. I am scared and shut my heart and my mind and lie still in the pureness of my soul.

When I stand I am poet and my lips tingle and my eyelids bat and my stomach quivers from feelings that aren't there. And my love and my woes, my hopes and my fears pour out of my heart and my soul until I feel empty but find this emptiness oddly filling and satisfaction is mine. 

I am a somewhat ashamed and somewhat proud that I allowed these wisps of smoke escape from my mind while the thoughts and desires that mothered them have never yet seen the sun and the window of their materializing is incredibly small. 

And I pretend I am not all these things and I pretend that I am too.

And they exist. And they do not.

Just Look: Peekaboo!

On creating

Process of creation and an everyday application

1.- Question and defy your area of interest. Ask yourself questions about it, imagine it differently.

I loose so much time on the bus! Drat... I get so bored and I'm tired and hungry. Hmmm... I wonder if I can do something about it... The ride would be a lot more fun if they pasted up comic books on the walls  of the bus... then again that would become boring at some point as well... What if they put up flatscreens? Naaaa, given they weren't stolen, it'd be troublesome choosing a channel with so much people... Maybe a disco ball...?

2.- Research on the subject of your interest as to find other alternatives.

Is there any shorter route I can take? Do any friends ride the same bus? Well, it takes about 45 minutes for it to get me home, what can I do in 45 minutes? It's always extremely full at 2:15 more or less, if I use it earlier at least I won't get pushed around and maybe I'll even find an empty seat! 

3.- Abandon your problem and put distance between it and you. Let your unconscious work on it.

Yeah well, it's not like I can make the driver go any faster... whatever... at least I'm only a few blocks away from my stop now... A peter piper picked a peck o' pickled peppers...

4.- Try and find a solution with the information you've got and whatever you came up with unconsciously.

Well, I gotta use the bus tomorrow again. 45 minutes... I can't do homework because of the constant movement, no friend uses the same bus I do... what can I do, what can I do... Kareoke? Nope, they'd just kick me off... what about a book that I don't have to read analytically? That way it doesn't matter if I'm distracted or hungry, I'll be more interested in the book! Also, I'll feel more relaxed when I get home to do homework!

5.- Try your hypothesis

Well, I got a book from Isabele Allende from the library today: those have enough imagination to last me a good 45 minutes. (gets on bus, opens book with one hand while she holds on with the other) Hmmm... hmmm... hahahahahaha... wow... odd... yay!... Wait hold on this is my stop! (hurries off the bus in a nick of time) Phew! That driver must've been in a hurry, I got here so fast! Then again, 45 minutes've passed since I got on the bus... 

6.- Acknowledge your creation and relish in its freshness and usefulness.

Yay! I can finally read non-school related books! You heard me! I'm reading fiction again baby! And when I finish this one, I'm gonna read Jack Londons' "The call of the wild" again!

Top 5 wishes for my child

It's been a while since I can participate Kate takes 5 listography (yay!) So here goes!

Top 5 wishes for my child:

1.- I wish for my Belle Fille to know herself very well: what she is, what she's not, and to feel content and confident about herself. I think that's an extremely important tool as to not get lost and pushed or overwhelmed in the crowds. You know, to dance to her own tune. She'll know what she wants to be and do easily this way. And work on her less developed abilities, enjoy her good ones more. And she won't allow anyone (man or woman) to mistreat her or make her feel less.

2.- I wish for her to to feel free to express herself in some artistic manner. Be it singing, dancing, painting, playing an instrument... It'd be nice if she was good at it, but I much prefer she has the confidence to do it. On my dads side, most of us like to sing and dance. Some are good (others of us a bit less) but we enjoy our family gatherings singing in a circle with a guitar like you wouldn't believe. It's one of those things that characterizes us and keeps us all close. (Not the only one though)

3.- I wish my baby to to acquire a love for reading. It will not only help her in her studies and mentally (whish is good and neccesary in itself), but emotionally as well. I wish her imagination to have no ceiling, stimulated by the bravery and kindness and wisdom of the characters in her books. And personally, I've never spent a lonely day with a good book at my side. I want her to dream of herself as a princess, a warrior, a wise erudite, superwoman and more.

4.- I wish for her to know the value of perseverance and hard work. To realize that there might be loads of genius and talent, but without hard work added to the equation, it doesn't amount to much. With this she'll be productive herself in whichever way she decides to go, but she'll appreciate hard work in others as well.

5.- And as wish number 5 I'd love it for my Belle Fille to have empathy for others, as well as for herself. To not be above anyone, not under anyone, but to put herself on the same level. To enjoy and accept the good and bad in others and in herself.

There's something else much more important than these wishes, but these'll do for now : )

Video Host- No more lonely nights

I recently heard this song by Paul McCartney and I loved it! I hadn't listened to this in maybe aeons and am greatly indepted to my good friend that brought it to mind (Thanks you!) I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. (Lots!)

: ) 

5 Minutes in College: Identity Development

I read a book during this past break totally unrelated to my area (so refreshing!) It was a book about learning a second language and it was filled with reports regarding this matter. There were all kind of investigations in there, some really interesting, some terribly boring. But one caught my eye particularly. It was about learning a second language like all the rest, but what really interested me was the psycology and sociology in it.

It was about how a persons identity can cause them to try and learn a second language.  So I've rescued this for y'all, the different stages an individual passes before they have an established identity.

The first stage of an indivudual developing his or her identity is called Identity of Diffusion. A person in this stage is easily impressionable, can change his/her mind easily, and is not commited to any particular identity or group and therefore theres is no identity crisis or identity at all really.

The second stage is Foreclosed Status. There is commitment to an identity and a set of values but these don't stem from the individual. Rather, these come from others like parents, peers or friends.

Next is Moratorium Status. At this stage there is an identity crisis and the individual actively searching for solutions and a genuine identity. They can experiment different things, until they're sure of what they really like and want. Once this stage is overcome, is...

Identity Achieved Status, you must have a good idea of what this involves, so I'll mention a quote that totally ilustrated it. These individuals are:

"In harmony with themselves, accept their capabilities, limitations and opportunities."

Need more be said?

So there you go. It feels like common knowledge, but I suppose it's good to remember information like this, especially when dealing with teenagers. In fact, most of this research was aimed at eighteen to twenty-something year olds. I suppose this process can begin a lot earlier, but when you finish high school you usually have to figure it out over again for good I guess. As for me, I think I'm somewhere between the latter two stages x )

I hope you enjoyed these 5 minutes in college. See ya! :)

PS: I was going to include bibliography, but I got them all muddled up so if you're interested and want to know the books directly, you can contact me through a comment, and I'd be happy to point you in the right direction.

Belle Fille Update

On a happier note, I'd like to talk about my Belle Fille. She's had a few subtle changes of late, but they've really caught my attention. She's never been troublesome, but now she seems to have a new 'tude, you know? She's still a sweetie and all, but now she's more... let me put an example. She's tall enough to fumble with the stove handles now, but I obviously don't let her.

So I put on a stern voice, and and say No Belle Fille.


Belle Fille seems taken back by my tone of voice, but isn't cowed. Instead, she looks me in the eye, and lifts her hand silently.

No  I repeat.

She drops her hand but her face is as serious as mine. Without flinching nor hesitating, she reaches up at the stove again.

No.  My tone hardens and she removes her hand. She knows I mean business.

She adjusts her strategy, but not her goal as she smiles sweetly still looking at me but moving her hand towards the handle.

No matter what I do, she's relentless. She isn't even afraid of physical discipline, so my best bet is to say No and move her away while I distract her with something else. These interactions which have been repeating themselves under different circumstances with the same results remind me of when she was wedged up in my rib cage and resisted for a long time to move no matter how much I tried to coax her out. Remember? In Simply Stunning.

Anyhow, that's my Belle Fille for you. Hitherto.

Can't I just get a break?

Sheesh, will I ever get over this? I seem to have had a relapse of some sort. You could say that this process started with Episode, I interpreted it in Cracks on the sidewalk, but it's still depredating me physically.  After the angst I'd been feeling lately, its catharsis, and my so-called being emotionally and mentally better, this. First day into vacations here in Mexico for semana santa,  I'm awakened by this horrible burning in my stomach. It was so bad, I'd been a while since I was in so much pain.

I also had this feeling of being completely empty as well and I was ravenous. So I picked myself up to go to the kitchen and eat, but instead I had to detour into the bathroom to throw up. When I finally got to the kitchen I got some bread and ate, wasn't able to keep it down and ended up in the bathroom again. By this time hubby had heard me and quickly went to the pharmacy to see if he could get me anything. The medicine, worked (to some extent), and I went back to sleep with an upset stomach.

I haven't gone to the doctor yet, I don't want to make this bigger than what it already is. I've been avoiding coffee and citrus fruit and anything acid. And I was fine. Except this morning when I started to feel the same. Thankfully, it was only just starting, so I got to the medicine quickly, had a good breakfast and was able to avoid it getting worse. I supose I'll just have to be lot more careful with my body and what I eat from now on in schedule and content.

So there you go. My body could just not forgive me, and now I'm taking the toll of all the mental issues I'd been having. But what frustrates me the most is that I feel so normal! I feel fine! But this comes up...!? This is becoming way too tiresome a subject. I don't even eat chili!

All I want is to integrally move on. On the emotional, mental and physical level.

Darn it!

To walk and to digress

I walk down a street and look a lot but don't always see. I think back, remember and recall, and as the picture comes back to me I really do See.

I remember the beautiful flower shops I saw that day. The stunning colors and hues and shapes. The fragrant smell but I walk past it.

I remember this old woman begging on the side of the road. She's always there in the afternoon,  think someone leaves her at noon and picks her up at dusk. Sometimes I can give her a little money, sometimes I can't, but still I walk past her.

I remember these guys that whistled as I passed by. I can't avoid feeling flattered and disgusted since I know that they'll do the same to the next girl that passes. And so, feeling indifferent and uncomfortable, I walk past them.

I think of my past and of my present, but rarely in my future. That I'll leave to the infrequent but undeniably periodic  insomnia that sometimes haunts me. I think in hard facts of what I've done and what I've got to do during the day: I can only fantasize whilst stillnes surrounds me. I account this and walk past it.

I keep walking and walking for the sake of exercise and my mind wanders again and again as the closet philosopher that I am blooms in this silence. I cherish this alone time because I know that as soon as I'm home and needed I will walk past it and become practical and available to the world. Whereas I walk in my lonesome I am not.

I've found that the difference between Looking and Seeing is both emotional and mental. To See you don't always need to Look, because you See when you think about what you're experimenting, or how it makes you feel. When you think and when you feel you See because you get mentally or emotionally involved. To Look without Seeing is cynical, but let's not forget that if cynical had a good side, it would be a self defense issue taken to the extreme.

And so, I am thankfull for this lonely walk because of the physical benefits of walking, and the mental and emotional ones of being free to be in silent contemplation. And I am also thankfull for its end, because it means I am blessed with time with my loved ones once more.

PD: The cherry tree has nothing to do with this post, but I just love this pic I found on the internet! Also, I think it ilustrates a little the dreamy haze I sometimes experiment when I digress in this manner. 

For us non techies out there

I've recently made a few changes to my blog to try and personalize it a bit more. I bet it could be more glam, but it's definetly more me so I like it! ; ) Anyhoo, I don't really deserve the credit because I am no designer myself, I just logged into The Cutest Blog on the Block and choose from all the different templates and buttons and blinkies and banners, that're just way too pretty!

If you can't afford to pay a designer to have a pretty blog, or are not a designer yourself, you should really look into it.  The instructions are also so easy, that even a technology impaired person like me had no excuse no have a boring looking blog. Unless the writting is exquisite that is: I am far from judging a book by it's cover. Otherwise, where would I be?!

Did you see my roses? Aren't they just droll!? Or the "Love" button? And I just adore the button that says "My Blog is an unedited version of myself". In fact, I'm thinking about adding this other button that says "Today's Menu: Take it or Leave it!", but I'm not sure I want to over button...

Listography - 5 Reasons I Know I'm a Mother

From Kate Takes 5, one of my favorite bloggers:

1.- I have a sixth sense that wakes me up in the middle of the night when Belle Filles' diaper has poo.

2.- I have eyes on the back of my head that warn me when Belle Fille has climbed the first step of the stairs

3.- The most common channel on the Tv is Nick Junior

4.- I can tell the difference between 'apo' (apple) and 'aboo' (scary noise)

5.- I can change a dirty diaper in 40 seconds flat (sometimes less)

Cracks on the sidewalk

I'm much, much better now. Feelings from the recent episode still linger in the air behind me, and though I could easily walk toward the direction of the wind as to leave the memory behind me, I'm not sure I want to. If at the time it happend I was suprised at its ocurring at all, I still haven't completely figured it out.

Though chameleon like to the world, I've always prided myself on knowing what was going on (at least consciously) inside of me. Whether I acted dumb or aware or not, whether I admited it to others outside myself or not, whether my reasons were real or imaginery, I knew. This time, however, I wholly did not, and that's what baffled me. I've been trying to make it out, without avail. The only reason that can explain this outburst is change.

Change is of course a constant in the world and in ourselves. Failure to take it into account can only result in error, as my case can ilustrate so well. I've changed. But to me, this goes a lot deeper. Because I don't think people change. I think people just show different sides of themselves to others depending on numerous factors and as to how well they know themselves. And only knowing oneself can one accept oneself.

I don't think my paradigm on life has changed, nor my priorities nor values. My actions will probably remain the same. This change is so deep yet so sutil, it'll be noticed like you notice the cracks on the sidewalk. But it'll be there, immutable. Just try and force the cracks on the cement back to their original form. You just can't.

A cracked sidewalk is still a sidewalk.

But would those new openings in the sidewalk have ever seen the light if the cement hadn't cracked? No. They would've remained hidden to everyone, even to the sidewalk itself. And yet again, no matter how many capricious formed cracks there are in the sidewalk, they all belong as a whole.

I lost my cool for a while the other day. I admit it. But is that part of me alien to me? Does it deserve to be rejected? No. And I will now abandon apologetics and rhetoric and metaphors and analogies and speak plainly.

That day, that part of me didn't need to be understood. It needed to be spoilt and embraced. I needed to be spoilt and embraced just because. Because I'm a person. With good and bad qualities, like you, like everyone. And I accept that. I accept that need that might be selfish and irrational, but it's still a part of me. And if I don't accept me and be nice to me, even when I don't "deserve it", then who the heck will?

I now walk forward but that Episode is no longer a shadow hovering around me, a stranger in my midst. It now wraps itself around me like a sweet comforting aroma, this new knowledge giving me a new dignity in the middle of all my imperfections.

Episode

I cracked the other day. Just exploded. I'd been feeling very pressured a couple days before, but I thought I had it all together. I didn't though.

The morning started out fine, it being sunday we got ready to go to church as always, but I was running a bit late. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, when something just triggered this weird reaction. You see, Hubby was helping me sort out the laundry, and he was tossing it from the patio where it had been hung up to dry to our living room where we were going to fold it. But I was oblivious to this and passed by just in time for some clothing to hit me in the head.

I recolied and felt very upset for a few seconds but I still had a lot to do, so I went on my way and ignored the feeling. But as we got into the car and I wasn't in movement anymore I started to freak out. I felt suddenly extremely upset and a million different thoughts popped into my head. My breath quickened and my eyes started to tear up. I felt more anxious by the second.

I'd felt this way before and I had no intention of winding up in the same hole, so I and tried to calm myself down before it was too late. I fought to control my breathing and tried to empty my mind from the incoherent thoughts that were rushing into it. I bit a pen to keep my bottom lip from trembling, turned my head so Hubby wouldn't see my face, and braced myself.

It worked, to some extent. I didn't speak until I was sure I could trust my voice. It sounded off, but nothing that would draw attention to myself. We arrived at church and were almost through the door when I realized there were people inside. A lot of them. And even though I hadn't actually seen them yet, I just couldn't take the image of being surrounded by so many persons, pretending everything was ok. I stopped and told my Hubby that I couldn't go in there, that I was sorry.

Hubby had been walking ahead and he turned back to look at me. His expression was so confused. He asked me why, and why I'd waited until we practically had one foot inside church to tell him that. I only answered that it was complicated, and he must've realized how bad I really was because he didn't ask anymore questions and did as I'd asked.

After church I'd been planning on visiting a friend, and he started to drive Belle Fille and me there, only he parked a few blocks before to ask me, really ask me, if I was ok.

Tears started to spill one after the other as thoughts half formed in my mind at the same pace. I could no longer keep a straight face nor answer in an orderly manner. I'd been trying so hard to keep control of myself and thought I'd succeded. But I'd been wrong.

It took a while for Hubby to get all the frustration and sadness and anger out of me. I'd just closed up so much... even I was suprised at how much. Prudence and self control are very important to me as a person, though I don't really mind it when others lack these atributes. But in me, I just can't condone it. So I try very hard to remain always the same, no matter the context.

When I was a teen and even a child I hid most of my feelings from others but for a friend or two, and even then I'd downplay it. It wasn't very hard: everyone has their own problems and besides, I'm quite the actress. A smile was always my first reaction to a problem. I'd just pretend everything was ok you know? Even if it hurt me, it was the only way I knew to manage my problems. But as a wife I'd been trying to change and rely more on others, especially on hubby. And I thought I had. But I was wrong.

I thought I was over this. I thought I had opened myself up. But this short episode told me otherwise. I fool others so easily, even I was taken in. I feel like such a fraud. Worse. A fraud that didn't know she was a fraud.

Do I mind? No, not really

You know where I was ten minutes ago? I was peacefully tucked in bed. I could hear Hubbys' calm breathing on the other end of the bed and Belle Filles' warm back. Sleepily dozing off, as the sand man did his magic... until I got a message on my cell phone.

Now? I'm stuck in front of the freakin' laptop fighting to keep my tired eyes open waiting for a video I'm supposed to edit and digest for a presentation for tomorrows' first class. I was also supposed to have received it a couple hours before, but as you see I didn't. I'd actually given up on it and gone to bed, but no such luck. And the darned video hasn't been sent yet. I can only assume I was abruptly awakened by a heads up.

This semester the teachers have been bent on us learning about "teamwork" and we've been assigned several papers and stuff in groups. And that's great, really. We all need to work on those kind of skills, at least me. And the groups I'm in are actually quite good. Sure, I've had my share of stumbles along the way and here I am risen from my slumber to do a darned paper but all is well. Sorta. Ask me in the morning in my sleep deprived state.

PD: You know I've been here for more than half an hour waiting for the blessed thing? I even had the time to blog about it and it still hasn't arrived so I obviously haven't been able to even start it yet. No big deal...

Chillón!

Today when I came back from college I was received with Belle Filles´morning anecdote. Aparently, BF and her grandma went to the market today and there was an eight or nine year old boy throwing a huge tantrum like a baby. My mother in law said "niño chillón" under her breath, "big crybaby" in spanish. Only Belle Fille not only heard her, but she also called out to the boy in a loud voice: "chillón!".

Listography - 5 Fotos that sum up my week

I've never had anything to do with other bloggers, I've kept to myself for the post part. I do read various blogs though, and for a months now I've been reading Kate Takes 5 each time she writes.
I really like her easygoing and authentic style, and've wanted to participate in her Listography for a long time now  (especially the mugs one) but I felt too shy. But now I'll give it go... and so, after much procrastinating I give to youuuuuuuu........!

Listography - 5 Fotos that sum up my week

1.- Coffee in the moring. Easy to relate to huh?

2.- Playing with Belle Fille and Hubby

3.- University with all of its implications

4.- Keeping (or trying) to keep the house tidy

5.- Visiting my parents in law

So? How's that for a first?

Your Momma

I am your momma.
I have the privilege to bathe you, to feed you, to take your to the park.
I am your momma.

But it's not just being clean, and full, and entertained.
 It's fun in the tub with your little toys.
And trying to catch the water that comes out of the faucet with your little hand outstretched.
It's discovering that bubbles are not forever
And that soap is indeed slippery.

It's finding new flavors and colors and textures
And learning to hold a spoon.
It's learning to negotiate
And then fall back and regroup.

It's breathing fresh air and chasing doves
And learning to get up when you fall down.
It's making new friends, playing new games
And then returning together home.

Yes, I am your momma.
And you know what? You are my baby.

Sweet and Late

I want to show y'all these cards of mine. They're totally handmade (you can easily tell by my handwritting) and I make them for my hubby and family mostly. These are a few of my favorites and even though they're romantic/corny looking this is my style and not necessarily for Valentines Day. In fact, that's one of the main reasons why I'm showing these cards to you now practically in March and not on February the 14th, it would've been more common. And I don't just make these for specific holidays. This is a year-long kinda thing. I've been permanently making these little suckers once or twice a month for years now and I really enjoy it.
I hope you enjoy them as well! Cheers!

Ok, this one was for valentine

Belle Fille got her hands on this one

One of my all-time favorites

Mindfulness Part II: The Iron and Me

Remember how a few weeks ago I wrote about mindfulness? Well today I have another thought to offer on the subject.

See, I got me a new crutch towards mindfulness. You know, as a tool. Turns out, my best shot at reflecting and drinking in experience and silence is, ta-da! An iron. 'Aint I a genius? ;)

Really though, I think It'll help me a lot in the future. As a wife, I have to invest some time in ironing every week and since only my hands are busy, and not my brain, I multitask. Sometimes I put on french lessons on a CD to listen to. Lately I've put on this japanese mini soap opera for practise. But today I really needed some time out to squeeze the most out of Belle Fille's nap. So I decided against anything that might interrupt the sound of peace (as in, none: silence) and prepared myself to be alone with my thoughts. Just me and no one else. Well, except for this other little voice in my head that might be my conscience. Hopefully.

Even though outside my head it was completely silent, inside the chit chat only stopped when I heard Belle Fille stirring in her room. A good two hours! Meanwhile I laughed to myself, gave an occasional snort of derision at some silliness and raised my eyebrows more than once to my insides. I tend to talk to myself a lot, but this time it was different. It was mindfull.

Usually I just let my mind wander, but this time I purposely led myself on from topic to topic in a fixed line. For me, a total scatterbrain, this is quite the accomplishment. I would have this thought and something slightly related but not at all in topic would pop into my head, and I would follow that thought until I realized I was digressing and forced my mind back into shape. This happend a couple of times, but all together I don't think I spent more than 15 minutes distracted.

I'm not sure if I'm kinesthetic but holding something physical like the iron really helped my focus. That, plus the lack of sound really gave me the momentum I needed to concentrate. It was like an anchor. Since we're on topic, I love anchors. I like what they're for, and what they represent. You know, like holding you up against the current; giving you strength to go against the grain. It also has an emotional value to me because at the because at the beginning of my relationship with Hubby I bought these identical keychains with anchors that we could both use without being too corny. (When the keychain broke, I took the anchor, tied it to a green ribbon and used it as a necklace)

So there you go. My anchor: Iron + Silence + Awareness = Mindfulness.

Well, at least that works for me. Now go find your own crutch! ;)

Let’s stick a spoon down her throat

Today I thought you might like to hear about Belle Filles’ most recent experiment, but in her words not mine. Enjoy!
……………

Dae dae dae, dae…

Belle Fille stays stock still as her thoughts are interrupted by a high pitched screech imitation of Celine Dion.

“… You stood by me and I stood tall, I had your love I had it all…”

Oh momma. Didn’t you sing enough of that song at karaoke yesterday? Seriously?

The mother misses the young girls’ look of condescension mixed with humor, picks her up off the ground to dance with her, and continues her song.

The babys’ eyebrows knit together. Great, right next to the loudspeaker. (How do I turn this off?) The twirling is fun, but really mother, it doesn’t exactly help your performance.

The mom dances to and fro with her small child in her arms, but stands still as she nears one of the highest, most difficult part of the song. Facial expression becomes more dramatic.

“Light in the dark, shining your love into my life. You’ve been my inspiration…”

Augh, momma! I’m right next to you ‘ya know? How the heck do I turn this off?! Oh yeah…

Suddenly, Belle Fille looks at her hand and her eyes light up like the light bulb over her head. She’s holding a spoon. Hmmm… I wonder.

“…because of YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUU-…”

But the “you” is drastically cut short as the baby sticks the spoon into her mommas’ mouth, who gags and sputters slightly as she hurries to pull the spoon from her mouth before she actually chokes.

Hey! It worked. Let’s do that again! Belle Fille looks up at her mother with her typical apologetic/I got you but I’m so cute there’s nothing you can do about it look and openly smiles.

Now it’s the mommas turn to slightly frown, irritation and amusement plain on her face.

Hey husband, your daughter’s trying to kill me.

No I’m not, I like you. You feed me and take me to the playground and read to me. And you make funny faces when you sing.

Husband gets up from the couch where he watched the whole thing, heads towards the momma that’s still holding the baby in her arms, and says Belle Fille. That wasn’t nice. Say ‘sorry’.

Agua

No. Say ‘sorry’

Agua.

‘Sorry’

Agua.

The dad gives up, grins, and pecks them both on the cheek before he goes to the kitchen to make a bottle of milk. The mom kisses her likewise, but starts to sing again after having removed the spoon from her babys’ grasp.

Awww…

Mindfulness

You know, I've recently learned a bit about meditation, how disciplining your mind is something basic if you want to be disciplined (healthy) body. And though I'm no literate on the subject, it really caught my attention because of Mark Twain. He once said that he didn't worry about what he didn't understand; he worried about what he did understand. This in a religious context, but the idea in itself is so simple but deep. I mean, sure, there's lots to the world, school, and everyday life that I don't understand, but wouldn't it be great if the things that we do understand we made an effort to do well? That would make us so much more efficient.

Which brings me back to the only thing I know about meditation. It's not that the cliche "let your mind blank of all thought and ride with me through the universe and the flowers and bla bla bla...". From what I understood, the object of meditating is disciplining your mind. As in, getting it to think on what you want to think. Not what you're worried about, not that paper that's due tomorrow, not the cute little dog you saw a while ago... not that. Just what you want.

Are you working? Think about work. Are you resting? Don't think about work. Remember only as gives you pleasure, as Elizabeth Bennet would say.

Are you reading? Drink in the book. Imagine each scene, the characters' gestures, follow the plot. I amply recommend this, it's really relaxing to get lost in another world, but I'm afraid that, in my personal case, I do this far too much than I should.

Put your mind into things.

Savor the warmth of each hug. Try to separately taste the ingredients in your food and relish them. Look up at the bird that sings. Dance to the music. Enjoy each kiss.

Good luck with your mindfulness

Spring Cleaning-ish

I've been tidying up the house of late, and it's been going really well. The books used to be scattered around the house and now they're all together in one bookcase. The same goes for clothes, shoes... etc. I've also upgraded the "neatness" in my house a notch or two now that I'm at home full time; I just hope I can keep it up when vacations are over. Whatever.

We've also been spending more time with the neighbors and their kids, to Belle Filles' delight. Sort of. See, she loves to be around kids and follows them around and smiles at them and is cute, it doesn't matter to her that they're complete strangers. But the other day while we were with a group of kids, a baby that was smaller than her by a couple months pulled her hair on one occasion, and pushed her in another. On both she cried, but I think she was mostly suprised: no one had ever treated her that way.

The baby boy continued on his merry way like it was nothing, and then started to pull his own hair. His mom tried to show him how he had wronged my baby, but I don't think he grasped the concept. As for me, I just hugged her while she bawled into my shoulder. She wasn't really hurt, but she was upset all the same. From then on, when the little boy waddled by, she would start to inch away, getting behind me if he came too close. Unfortunetaly, he thought she was playing and Belle Fille had to get used to his following her around. She's a little more cautious though, my sweet baby girl.

Beauty (?)

I've been thinking a lot about the concept of beauty lately (you know). And I'd like to point out that I'm talking about the Concept, not just being atractive. The word, "beautiful" has been applied to so many different looks, has had so many changes that it's impossible to just box and label it. From having hot curves with meat on them, sculpted bodies, to being sickly skinny (Does anyone remember Twiggy? She started it, but now it's been taken too far).

Not cool people. Not healthy. Not beautiful. For example, what's the point of a work of art? We're all so different ourselves, it's logical that we'll all see it differently. Its beauty lies in what it transmits. In how it makes you feel. Free? Happy? Or sad? Can you feel the confusion, or the joy, that the artist felt when he was painting? That's where the paintings' beauty truly lies. However, what do you feel when you see a girl that is starving herself to be thin and show off her clothes like the models on a magazine? Can you feel the girls insecurity? Her sadness, frustration? There may fashion there, but there is no beauty.

Or let's say that anyone, really, regardless gender. But for this example let us say a woman is in her time physically perfect: she has a perfect nose, a great body, beautiful face, great teeth... you name it. She also happens to be married, but she always greets her husband with an ugly expression on her face. Ranging from angry at worst, indifferent at best. To her husband, she does not look beautiful.

I am not saying that people shouldn't try and dress up, look nice and primp themselves up. I do it everyday. I enjoy doing it. You could even say it's in my DNA. But what's behind, that's what really comes across. I'm not a pro at it, the proof is in my last post. I've bought some magazines to give me ideas, but those are just suggestions, not canons. I personally like to look pretty, but I strive to look beautiful to my hubby, to my baby, my family, my friends.

We all need beauty, true beauty in our lives.

A float in doubting waters

I know this is probably not the best way to start a post so early in the year, but I've got to get this out so I can get over it. I'm not feeling at my best right now. Quite the reverse. I feel like a terrible--- you name it. Mom. Student. Me. However, my baby's love keeps me afloat. (That and my Hubbys and families and friends love, but that's not the point of this particular post)

Belle Fille has had a really bad rash for over a week now. She started with diarrhea, I suppose because I started to use this new spice in our food, a chili. And it's hurting her very much. I just feel so bad because it's my fault she's in pain. I should've been way more careful with her diet and even though I had been changing her diapers regularly, I should've done it more. She also caught a cold so between a sore nose and a sore bottom, Belle Fille is not in a nice place. At least she's getting better.

At school you remember I had some difficulty last semester, and now I can't seem to get the paperwork that goes behind it straight. I bet they must be tired of me at the school office since I've been calling so frecuently . I just can't seem to be able to do things right, it's like I finally have the chance to fix x but I forget about z but by then I've lost my chance and have to start all over again. I just... grrr.

As for me, I've been more forgetful than usual. I'm a scatterbrain at best, but I'm in danger of falling into an unconscious and irresponsible parent. For example, since Belle Fille has been sick, we took her to do these analisis but now I've lost them and we're taking her to the pediatrician today and need them. I haven't a clue as to where they are and since I'm not at home right now (trying to fix the college thing) my hubby will have to go look for them without the least idea of where to start. He has loads of work right now and can't spare the time to barely eat but he doesn't have a choice but to look because his dumb wife lost the darned papers. Some ideal helper I've been.

On a less important, but none the less frustrating note it's been called to my attention that some people have been talking ungraciously of me behind my back. Some of these comments have been from people who judge how I look but don't even know me, and it's been on my lack of fashion sense so, really, whatever. I know that I'm not a fashionista and I can definetly work on getting my clothes combinations better but I don't feel the need. I feel comfortable and pretty, but it doesn't seem to be enough anymore now that I'm married and have an "image" to maintain. Needless to say, my self esteem has taken a hit.

Other people, people close to me, have put into doubt my capacity or matureness as a mom. Yes, I'm young. Yes, I lack experience in many areas. I'm more of a laisser faire person, but ever since these comments that have repeated themselves came to my ears, I've been doubting if I've been careless of Belle Fille.

Usually when my baby falls down while walking I check she's if she's not really hurt, smile, but tell her she can get up by herself, that nothing happend. I don't make a fuss, and I believe that's encouraged and independent, self-sufficient personality in my child that I love and know will help her no matter her age. When Belle Fille catches a cold, which isn't every often, I tend to try and ride it out so that her inmune sistem has the time to strengthen itself. And it's worked out pretty well, until now.

I feel eyes on the back of my head, murmuring. That I've been careless, that I'm too wrapped up in my own little world of books and school to be a good mother. I know that people think I'm selfish of my time, that instead I should be giving it all to Belle Fille. I play with her every few hours. I read to her every day. I take her to the playground that's close to our house two or three times each week. But I also admit that I also let her play by herself for a while a few times everyday. Sometimes it's from lack of time or from excess things to do. But sometimes I just sit and read or write.

Why don't I use those spare minutes to play with her? Because she needs to learn to entertain herself. To have the capacity to be by herself, but not be necessarily lonely. I learned that the hard way, and so I want her to learn it the easy way, full of confidence and exploring but still feeling safe and secure, still feeling that I love her. In these moments of playing by herself, I do pay attention to her, I am available. If she comes to me and shows me what she's drawing or her toy, I'll receive her with open arms and talk to her and remind her the special, inteligent, wonderful person that she is. But then I'll gently let her carry on with her bussiness, and I'll do the same while still staying close and available.

I see the results already and am so happy to see that my child is not a frightened little girl that cries when she falls down (when she's not hurt for real) or when she isn't able to do something. If she falls she gets up. If she needs help, she comes to me, but leaves once I've shown her how to do what was causing her problems with a smile on her face. She'll come and hug me and give me a kiss one moment, then walk around to explore the house the next, and will come back to proudly show me her newest discovery with another kiss and another hug.

Yes I am young, but that doesn't mean that I do everything without a purpose, just to have some time to myself. I've got stuff I'm working on, and stuff I'm bad at, just like the rest of the world. But those prying eyes and poisonous tongues,will never, ever, be able to cloud the love I have for my daughter. Criticize my looks, my house keeping, my grades, but I disdain your attempts to begrudge me. The relationship and love my daughter and I share is far greater than that.

Just Look: Belle Fille and the Piñata

Piñatas

Belle Fille is singing dae dae dae right now ... She´s still hung over the holidays where she was able to hit piñatas and get the free sweets that´re inside. FYI, piñatas are a mexican tradition (but I think not exclusive to Mexico, I think some latinamerican countries also have them) that involves a flying object filled with sweets that kids hit with a long stick (usually an old broom handle) until they break it. Wanna see?

The song in spanish goes like this:

Dale dale dale

No pierdas el tino

porque si lo pierdes

pierdes el camino.

Ya le diste una

Ya le diste dos

Ya le diste tres

y tu tiempo se acabo.

The translation:

Hit it hit it hit

Don´t lose your aim

Because if you lose it

you wil lose your way.

You already hit it once

You already hit it twice

You already hit it three times

and your time is up.

Just Thanks you know?

It's that time of year again. Of good wishes, of lists, of dieting, of making plans for the next year... you name it. But instead I'll just talk a teeny tiny bit about my husband and my daughter.

I'm thankful for every kiss my Hubby gave me last year. For his smiles and hugs.

For each movie we watched together. Every coffee we shared. For my Amado.

I'm thankful for Belle Fille that came to be the cherry on top of my pie. For her giggles, for the wobble in her walk that starts to disappear as she gets older. For her soft fly away hair. For the way she calls to me, mama, mommy, mami...

And that's a start.