2015 Progress Report

Link ~ ~ luvchoc71 ~ Leave a comment

After  quickly eyeballing my previous posts I am happy to report that the enjoyment of down time has greatly increased both in quality and in duration. The two weeks that my kids got off school helped quite a bit, for there was no rushed morning routine, no yelling and ‘pushing’ them into their afternoon classes, homework, chores, etc.

As every year, when Christmas time approaches, I bake Blondies (See Recipes link  above for actual step by step recipe) for my close friends, kids’ teachers and some relatives. This December I completed just under 20 batches. Some with dark chocolate, with white chocolate (if you can call that chocolate), with nuts, without nuts… For almost three weeks, my house was impregnated with a sweet smell of Maple and butter. Pure torture; specially for the kids, but we all survived the baking season with some extra pounds under our belts….ok under my belt.

Following the heavy baking season, I found myself tired of the long hours of standing in the kitchen and frustrated with the excess muffin top around my pants- so I am feeling fully motivated to exercise and cut down severely on sweets, breads, pasta, rice, and all that fun stuff. Like I mentioned before, around Thanksgiving time, I was resolved to attend the gym more often. So far, so good.

This morning I decided to print out a calendar and a chart to record my weight weekly as well as my attendance to L.A. Fitness. That should definitely bring awareness to my days. I have a specific goal – date and weight-  and although they say after 40 our metabolism slows down some and weight loss becomes more challenging, I am feeling very optimistic. The only huge obstacle I for see in my near future is to resist the temptation to… CHOCOLATE.  My dear friend Chocolate, the one who is always there (in my secret cupboard), the one who always makes me feel better, uplifted and cheerful, unlike any other remedy. But I can do this, I know I can.

I assigned my daughter with the duty of “Resolution Patrol”. She has been instructed that if she ever sees me eating sweets, she is to say “Mom, resolution warning!”.

Last night my husband brought home the most delicious apple pie I have ever tried (before, not this weekend)-with lattice top and the whole 9 yards- I did not touch it, not once. It wasn’t so hard to resist, until it was time to clear dishes and leftovers, and I got too dangerously close to it. There it was, the Apple Pie, staring at me, all beautifully crusted in top, sugar sprinkled and glistening, uncovered, and the smell of apples and cinnamon, oh someone help me! Resolution Patrol immediately took action; she said ….”Mom, breath through your mouth! Just breathe through your mouth!”  She covered the pie with a cloth and removed it from the kitchen. How adorable is that!  I have a coach now.

I taught her that trick when she was just 4 or 5 and there was a bad smell on the road. “Breath through your mouths kids! You won’t smell a thing!”

Later that night, browsing channels before going to bed, I found a (bad) infommertial :  “How to get rid of your belly fat!” In the midst of the resolution, and the Apple Pie crisis, I couldn’t help but watch. Inside my head, I expected some pills -tested in rats but not FDA approved of course-, some diet, some magical 10 minute work out, but what I saw, was the most un-sexy,  grandma looking “slimming” underwear , probably so tight-fitting that it would make it an accomplishment to breathe in. So that is how you get rid of your fat? By squishing it tight under rubber looking undies?

Ten seconds later, discouraged with the proposed solution, I pressed my CHANNEL button once more, just to hear the McDonalds new commercial, proudly announcing their New Triple Burger!  How’s that for irony within a 15 second window.

Deep down, (the truth is found deeper in some people than in others), we all know that a balanced diet and regular exercise is what will provide us a with healthier lifestyle and if we work even harder, some nice muscle definition is thrown in the benefit package.

Why is it so hard to follow our common sense and make healthy choices all the time? Why is the smell of a fresh baked pizza or a steak grilling so incredibly good and the smell of broccoli streaming not so great? Why do we sometimes choose a sugary cereal instead of a hearty warm bowl of oatmeal?  Why is it so easy to fall into temptation? I say “we” and not “I” because  I know some readers will relate.

It amazes me how the whole economic and cultural system I live in, which makes it unaffordable and insensible to have live-in help, has implications to the point of: what to eat. I know, without a doubt, that if I had full-time help, I would not hesitate to plan healthier and more complex meals if someone else would prepare and clean up. It is a  no brainer! But I will do my best with the tools and time I have. I have to. We have to.

The next day, I watched Ellen Degeneres interviewing a guy, Noah Galloway, that fought in one of the most recent wars, the result of which was losing 2 limbs (an arm and a leg). After going through a bad depression, a lot of drinking and isolation, he was resolved to get out of his self pity and to work out and make the best use of his body. Admirable. With the assistance of a prosthetic leg, he now runs, lifts weights, etc and is in extraordinary shape. On top of it, he raises funds for a non profit organization called No Excuses Charitable Fund.

http://www.ellentv.com/videos/0-qneph593/

Feeling extremely motivated that morning, I went to the gym with all the enthusiasm I could muster, no time restrictions, lots of water to drink and a 600-page book to read while doing Cardio. (The Truth about the Harry Quebert Affair- highly recommended)

Giving great thought to the Blondies I ate all through December, the box of See’s Dark Chocolate Candy that I gave myself for Christmas (and ate mostly by myself) I jumped on the Elliptical machine. I warmed up and some 15 minutes later I was at full speed at the beat of Boys of Summer by Don Henley. My heart was pounding and about to pop out of my chest, but I thought about Noah Gallaway and kept at it,  until it was over (its a long darn song!). Then, 38 Special came to the rescue with Hang on Loosely and I was able to breath normally again. I realized that I could not meet my goal in an hour at the gym; that it takes some pacing to accomplish -slowly but surely- what we intend.

It’s more rewarding for me to get to the top, if it requires steady disciplined steps than a quick drastic change in  my lifestyle, because very likely I will succumb into my old ways: chocolate for breakfast, dessert, lunch and dinner.

There are priorities in my life, and I frequently have to remind myself of what they are and what order they are in. That helps me keep perspective when guilt clouds my head about a Mac and Cheese dinner, or when I feel too tired to deal with the kids arguments, or when I am running out of patience to play a game with them or to read to them at night.

Today I watched my kids go up and down the escalator at the mall about 12 times in a row, they were following a sticker that was travelling with them on the handrail. That is how they had fun today. I was starving, I was tired, but I enjoyed watching them laugh every time they  found the sticker. It made me realize I needed to add a little “something” to my resolution, and this “something’ should last more than 2015: to enjoy those little moments of pure fun, pure innocence  and adorable company of my children, who -still- ask to be tucked in at night.

 

The Frailty of Life

~ luvchoc71 ~ Leave a comment

My husband often accuses me of being “too afraid” of almost everything, of living on the safe side, of drawing my line too close, of being worried and preoccupied (“pre” being the key here). He is probably right. Sometimes I do wish I was more loose, more adventurous, and less worried about the what ifs.

It is in the simplest things during the day that my mind goes left, goes down, and it foresees what could go wrong, more often that I’d like to admit. If I take the kids to the trampoline park, I sign the waiver thinking “It is with good reason they make us sign this!  The kids could collide and break their necks and be left paraplegics! “- but I don’t say it, just think it…

If we are driving up or down a windy mountain road I get ridiculously nervous in the car thinking: all it takes, is a skid of the tires, a second-long distraction, an irresponsible driver coming the opposite way, to cause disaster.

When I cross the street on a busy road too, I think how easy it could be for a distracted driver (or pedestrian) and end someone’s life in a very brief moment.

I really do wish I would not think of these things, the probabilities, the downsides. During these dark moments, I resort to thoughts of pleasant images or, of the positive than can come out of a certain occurrence.  For every chance of something bad happening, there’s the counterpart to make the 100% right?  Yet, all it takes -for me- is to watch the depressing news channels for 5 minutes to bring me crashing down again; to  realize what a sick, perverse and messed up world we live in; to realize how blessed I am to live in this “bubble” where it is safe, where, today, we have jobs, food, health. Just today- I never take any of this for granted.

So, as an extraterrestrial, like I stated in this blog’s Title, I often disassociate myself completely -in my mind- from human kind. From everything: cultural beliefs, prejudice, my life’s own experiences and exposures, any type of learned behavior in a true attempt to see earth from afar.

I see these millions of beings struggling in a place where they don’t really understand or respect each other. A place where instinct (very primal and animal) takes over their conduct in abhorring ways. I observe what happens in other far away parts of “my” world and find it hard to believe that while I sit comfortably in bed, with a cup of warm delicious tea typing my thoughts in motion, another woman stands in a dry abandoned land with little ones she can’t feed and a man in her life (that she is probably afraid of) that she calls her husband, and not necessarily by choice. And at the same time, while I hear children playing somewhere close to my house, other children are being shot at just for the simple reason of daring to go to school. How sick is this earth, how unfair and uneven and impossible to understand are all these crises that surround us.

In this extraterrestrial state of mind , I feel disgusted and ashamed of the human race. I have never been much of an animal lover (a fact widely known by those close to me) , but it is at times of sad reflections like these, that I have to concur …animals can be so much more civilized and intelligent than us .

If human race “started” from the same origin, branching out by the millions every year since the beginning of times (Darwin or Religious beliefs, for the purpose of this thought-it’s not relevant), how could we end up with such different conditions, resources, beliefs, customs, cultures and social standards? Why do Muslims kill Christians for not believing what they do and vice versa?  Why are gay people so cruelly hated in many parts of the world.  How and why did our brains get conditioned to think that black equals evil or less favorable, hence the use of black for evil characters in innumerable movies and the obvious racism towards dark skinned people?

How did it come to be a well established tradition in some Asian and African countries to mutilate women to “quiet down”  or tame their own sexuality? My stomach turns as I type. The list of shameful acts could go on and on, so I just wonder…will the years to come make this world sicker and more creative towards these despicable behaviors?

It seems to me that the increasingly growing access to information has made our lifestyles incredibly different from the ways we knew just a decade ago.

I truly hope that our human kind uses Technology and Information in ways that will better and enrich our children’s lives, but so far, I am more concerned of the contrary happening.

Often, I feel like I am swimming against raging waters when it comes to my kids getting lost in this world of excess screen time and impersonal relationships . Yesterday my son asked if it was okay to thank someone for a Christmas present with a text message. I replied loud and clear: “NO, it is not okay”.

I will end by stating that there is not a single day in which I am not thankful for life, for family, freedom, food and for love. I am not one for setting yearly resolutions; mine come more often than once every 12 months. I lean more towards short term, attainable goals.

Life is frail, yes. But I cannot change that. Today , I want to be less afraid of loss, of failure. I want to cherish every single day, whether at home, at work or most of all, those moments I get to spend all by my self.

2015, here I come!

 

 

 

 

The very bad reputation of Marriage

Link ~ ~ luvchoc71 ~ Leave a comment

Scene at the grocery store, on a regular school day, 6 pm.

Boy: “Mom, are you secretly dating someone else?”

Mom (jaw dropped) “What?? Of course not! When exactly were you thinking I was dating someone else? And why would you ask that?”

Boy ( absolutely serious faced): “Well, you go out at night and say you are having dinner with friends, and then you also go to the movies without Dad, so you might be dating in secret. Because that is what adults do, they cheat on each other.”

Mom: “Where did you get these ideas? I am very surprised by your questions”

Boy: “I saw it on The Secret Life of Timothy Green, that you made me watch.  So, are you?”

Mom: “No my love. I would never do that to your Dad or to you guys. I love him and respect him.I am not interested in dating anyone else, so you can stop worrying about it.”

Boy:  ” Good, ’cause I will be watching you”

This was my son and I discussing cheating and faithfulness at the store a week ago.

This is the anxiety that can grow in a 9 year old , due to the fear of even the slightest chance of losing all safety that a Mom and Dad represent and provide in a home. The fear of losing it all, quickly and suddenly, of feeling abandoned or even rejected.

I have read repeatedly that the success rate of Marriage in the United States is -and has been for at least a decade-just under 50%.  How one defines “success” is a different story. I want to think of it as a relationship in which love, strongly tied to loyalty, respect, self fulfillment and permanence are present in a healthy and evident measure.  (1)

Nowadays, divorce rate is the same sad story in several Latin American countries, including Mexico. Whatever it is that has caused this rise in the rate which used to be significantly lower in the 60’s and 70’s, can be deceiving. Where women as unhappy back then and just didn’t have it in them to leave? It is well known that women raised in the 40’s and 50’s -like my mom- were not as academically prepared  or as ambitious as we women are now. It seems to me like they settled for less – as terrible as it sounds- and social expectations seemed to be quite different before. A man was proud of a stay-at-home mom that would care for their young 24/7, looked pretty, made the house look clean and tidy and knew how to cook and mend.

Year 2014: a completely different story; I see it everywhere from my family (immediate and extended) to close friends, to not so close friends. Men want and welcome the help, men want -or need-the second income and are not shy or proud to accept it. They encourage a working wife, proud of the fact that she can juggle between the huge tasks of dealing with the (often) men-dominated arena called Office Work or whatever other respectable job she has,  and the mid century traditional chores, while showing -of course- the sweet tender loving maternal side.  I should clarify, not all men embrace this. Some still believe the wife belongs at home, doing dishes, cooking meals, and dealing with 99% of the house work, which by the way I find brutally unfair. 

So, back to marriage and divorce, are we all more selfish today? More demanding and less forgiving? Is the root of the problem in the home during our early formative years or does it start at the dating age, where young adults learn that marriage is not so cool anymore?

Whatever the cause is for the slow and painful loss of respect for the Marriage Institution, I have noticed it has a worrisome snowball effect.

Many children grow up lacking a vivid and constant example of loyalty, of love and respect, of spousal support, of balancing teamwork, individuality and self-sufficiency , of roughing it out through hard times and enjoying and sharing the good ones, so how are these children supposed to have the confidence, the inner strength and conviction to establish and keep good healthy relationships? Amazingly, some  do, they overcome all the obstacles they grew up with and eventually figure it out. But for many others, it doesn’t go that well. So here starts the snowball effect, because this generation will probably engage in relationships that will end in a not-so-sound marriage; they will give it a try, a couple of kids later, if it doesn’t work out, they will quit, cheat, or just stay in a very unhappy marriage (let’s not forget, some couples stay together because divorce is just unaffordable). And it goes on  and on and on.

I chatted once with a friend about who to spend the holidays with, and she told me each of them (her and her husband)  and two pairs of parents/step-parents and each  couple had their own kids, so she had to split 8 ways to visit everyone. Apparently she was the third generation of the mix-and-match trend. So I thought of two things:  The Brady Bunch and …Snow Ball Effect.  I have friends that have come from very unstable homes, dysfunctional in many ways and then find themselves in a marriage that is going  south too. Then they worry about their own kids and what they will learn or what behavior they will adopt. Well, I would be worried too.

I am not criticizing those who have failed in their marriage and decided to split. We all make mistakes; however I strongly believe that there must be something in our society that is slowly permeating down to the very core, the intimacy of the smallest social unit: the family.

It is basic and simple  values, I believe, such as respect, loyalty, self-love and responsibility that are taken a bit too loosely by all of us in this ridiculously fast paced world. Values that mold little children into honorable and respectful people, into creative and daring creatures, into caring humans that look out for and actually care for the less fortunate.

In my opinion, it is in the early years then,  that character is defined, challenged, life lessons taught , that can help a person thrive towards a happier life or spiral down -sometimes unaware- into a repeated and learned pattern. In my personal experience, it was a combination of many hard lessons, many falls and many challenges that made me not repeat a pattern that I observed, but didn’t absorb, and also a very constant example of loyalty and discipline that my parents taught us from a very early age. It saddens me to think of how these social concepts have changed -for the worse- in the last decades, but at the same time, being aware of it makes me work harder as a parent, as a wife. I can’t secure my childrens’ future, their happiness and self realization. But I can sure teach by example. Every little details counts.

 

(1) According to the American Psychological Association “[Happy Marriages].. are also good for children; growing up in a happy home protects children from mental, physical, educational and social problems. However, about 40 to 50 percent of married couples in the United States divorce. The divorce rate for subsequent marriages is even higher. ”

http://www.apa.org/topics/divorce/

Dec. 3rd. update: I saw on the news today that divorce rates went down this year…Yey!  But also, the number of people that marry decreased…back to square 1.

 

Is there such thing as failure when it comes to faith?

~ luvchoc71 ~ 2 Comments

Being raised Catholic is not the same as being Catholic by choice and complete conviction. I believe this could apply to any religion really. There is a very fine line that is often fuzzy for me when I think of this difference.  I didn’t know that having this very clear in my head  would determine the way in which I would instill faith in my children.  I grew up in a Catholic home, went to a Catholic elementary and middle school and attended mass on Sundays for as long as I can remember. First it was what my Mom and Dad wanted, later in my teen years, it was were all the guys and girls met socially and dinner after mass with a fun group of friends was a given. During the service I would  probably spend more time looking out for the guy I liked back then , where he was sitting, who he was with,  etc, than listening to the Sunday Sermon.

Later, it was the place to go with your steady boyfriend on Sundays, then of course, dinner or a movie. So mass really, was part of a cultural and social routine. It also gave me a sense of belonging. And yes, it reminded me every week about the commandments, about being humble, about helping out those in need etc. And it also gave me that “person” that I needed to pray to, to thank for. To talk to.

I married a man who is not a believer anymore, but who used to be a (very) active member of a well known religious community, who knows the Bible better than I ever will, who dedicated two whole years of his life to missionary work.  However, from the day I said “Yes” to him when he proposed, I knew that I was on my own when it came to religion.  We set some rules that very day. He would be (and still is) respectful and supportive of my beliefs and would allow our kids to be baptized Catholic. He however, did not want me to impose religion on them.  Any children we would bring to this world would have the freedom to learn and then choose what to believe in.

I agreed, it sounded fair and I still think it is. But I didn’t know that as children get older and smarter, they  would start asking questions, many questions for which I don’t have  the answers.

When I went to Catechism as a girl, I bored myself to death. I don’t think I learned a thing except the force-fed prayers that we were expected to memorize like the National Anthem or the Math Tables.

As a young adult, I was never studious or curious enough to learn and read the Bible, like my husband did. He knows it like the script to a good History Documentary.   So today, as an adult that believes and has faith and prays, I feel complete ignorance when my children question me about God, the Universe, miracles, etc.

Some think that the Catholic Church is on a crisis; it is losing  its believers, its followers. It has been said that many people have lost interest: they get bored during Sunday Mass, they see the whole institution as a money squeezer  or just as a joke. The child abuse cases that have emerged and discussed on the media during the past ten years don’t help.   A big part of our faith, our loyalty  and even our monetary contributions are a direct result of how much we like, understand and agree with in Sunday Mass. That is the one hour of each week (for the average Catholic) in which we listen from an actual human being the words that we yearn for, the advise, the comfort when we are sad, the optimistic and cheerful speech it the occasion allows. So it is not surprising, albeit sad, that some people stop going to Sunday Mass and eventually stop believing and teaching it to their own kids when they are bored and uninterested in the weekly service. I really wish the priests of this world knew how big a responsibility they have when it comes to keeping the faithful close and attracting non- believers.

It would be safe to say that both my kids have been exposed to the same information, prayer and religious events. Yet, I have noticed for a while now, that while my daughter cannot go to sleep without saying her prayers, my sons says that it doesn’t make sense for a regular human to cure illness with a simple touch or make any kind of miracle happen for that matter.

The difference in opinion and actual faith is so extremely opposite, it has made me wonder more than once: what have I done wrong with my son?

He has begged not to go to his lessons on Sundays, he asks me directly why I take him if he doesn’t believe a thing. “Jesus is not my thing mom”.  This first time he said it it actually hurt. I was silenced by his words. I had nothing to say. Now it just makes me feel so bad, I am losing patience with him and I take it rather personally.

With a father that will not encourage his religious upbringing and a mom that is not exactly an expert of the Catholic faith I feel like my son has not much left to guide him and take him down the path that I really wanted for him. I console myself thinking that even if he doesn’t believe, I can still teach him to be a nice, kind humble person, to be respectful, honest and polite to those around him. There is no religion required to teach that to your kids. And if I am honest with myself, that is really what I want. Still, there is that “looser” feeling in the back of my head like I just didn’t cut mustard as a Catholic mom. 😦

Two nights ago my husband and I had a date night. I was in a cheerful mood looking forward to the rare occasion. We decided to get dinner and actually talk, as opposed to watching a movie and not communicate at all.  Before I knew it I found myself talking about this with him. “I feel like a failure” I said, explaining to him what the situation was with our son. My eyes filled and tears just started coming out and I realized I was sadder than I thought. I had expected my husband to say something like “Don’t make him go anymore”  or “Respect his will”. But he surprised me by telling me our son was not allowed to decide if he believes or not until he knew more and understood better the whole concept of religion. He said to me that religion is and would be (faith or not) present in his life, in the people around him, in the media, everywhere. So there was still a lot to learn before a decision was made.

He told me it was not my job to “make him” believe, but only to give him the resources to learn about faith so that later in life he could make an educated decision. I not only felt like I loved my  husband  1,000 more times that moment, but also felt a huge relief, of knowing that this is not 100% in my hands. That children have a mind of their own and as they grow and mature they each turn into a person that we need to respect and accept and support. That leading by example and talking about what I believe in will help, but will not make my children change they way they feel about faith.  That loving them is respecting them. I don’t believe I have failed anymore. Not in this respect anyway. My waffles are still a failure but I have learned to choose my battles.

In desperate need of an On/Off Switch!

~ luvchoc71 ~ Leave a comment

3:30 am

I lay awake in bed, very, very awake.

A little voice inside my head says: go back to sleep, it is dark outside, dark = sleep), yet  my brain is already steps ahead of the little voice. Like sitting in a movie theatre watching previews for a dozen upcoming productions. Way too fast, a lot of information, glimpses here and there of what represents a longer story.

Laundry…need to finish. Gym, I need to get up early otherwise I will not go at all. Thanksgiving, what to make,  I really wish Turkey wasn’t the central dish on both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Where was the hearty steak, or a salmon filet or a juicy seabass when these traditions started?  Is there a chance that will ever change?  Can we just establish a new trend in dishes within our family?  Once we had Japanese for Christmas Eve dinner, at a Teppan Grill Restaurant. It was quite a success. A juicy Filet Mignon cooked in front of you with an entertainer for a cook puts turkey to shame.

Next…work, need to finish a report that is due very soon, which format to use to make it user friendly. The heater, do we need new filters? Winter is fast approaching- I sure don’t want to breath dust the first days we use it- yuk!

I look at the clock again, 5 minutes have passed. So I try hard again, closing my eyes tight (otherwise they pop open)…then…my stream of thoughts resume: my son’s pet lizard, it is not eating enough, or not eating at all.  Despite the fact that I am not exactly attached to the reptile, it would break my heart to see his broken if it dies or gets severely sick. Need to call the Reptile store lady. Milk, we are out of milk!!!!!!!!!!!!!  One of the stores we go to is open 24 hrs. Should I put on some sweat pants and go?  That would be crazy. The guy at the register would give me a strange look, but I could throw some Ibuprofen in there and then it would look like a midnight emergency and we will all have a happy breakfast, with milk.

I look at the clock again, another five minutes have passed. I start getting grumpy because I can’t stop. Daylight savings was more than three weeks ago, so what is wrong? Well, I don’t really know. All I know is that when I was in my teens and twenties I slept like a bear during hibernation. Nothing would wake me up. As the years have passed and even more after I had the kids, anything, literally anything will wake me up. The sounds of the house creaking, my daughter talking (or singing) in her sleep, a water faucet dripping downstairs, a cell phone vibrating many feet away from me.

So in my insomnia I thought, wouldn’t it be perfect to have a power switch where I could put my brain to sleep, like the sleep mode on a TV or computer. Of course it would have to be a programmed mode for a healthy number of hours, like 6 or 7, otherwise who would turn it back on?  This would do wonders for kids too. You turn off their switch for a good 10 hours of sleep. Oh! The joy that moms would get with newborns sleeping through the night.

Despite the frustration that this insomnia brings, I have to say that some great ideas and answers to puzzles or problems I have had at work have been solved during these early hours. Maybe I am in creative mode at night. The days are too busy sometimes to even dare be creative or resourceful..

Taking sleeping pills is a solution I don’t like abusing but it does the job- quite well actually. Exercising more would help too, if only I could get up at 5 am more often after a good nights’ sleep…that I don’t get. I need to break the cycle and have a healthier night…and day. Just writing about it makes me more aware of the need to have more discipline. It has been said, written and researched  that lack of sleep has many negative consequences. Everything from bad temper, less energy, medical problems, wrinkles and dark circles and overall a shorter life span.

I intend not to wait for 2015 to better myself in this respect. Change is now! 🙂  The power switch is not feasible, but the lifestyle change is. I will start with the little details that make a difference.

This coming week: more exercise !

 

The Art of Enjoying Downtime

~ luvchoc71 ~ Leave a comment

Every blue moon, some weekend I am fortunate to have a couple of hours with no kids, no cleaning to do (there’s always cleaning to do but sometimes I pretend there isn’t), no one to cook for, gym has been checked off that morning and the kids even made their bed and put away their junk: that is what I call it these days. So I think “Yesssssssssss, finally,  ME TIME!”  For days I plan on the things I would do on these very special and sporadic occasions:

  • Read one of the 8 books that have been collecting dust on my nightstand
  • Watch back to back episodes of Ellen De Generes, the Good Wife, Downton Abbey or whatever the DVR didn’t erase.
  • Take my camera to the Wine Country or some pretty gardens and practice my very rusty photography skills.
  • Go to a nice quiet coffee shop (NOT Starbucks) and read while sipping my favorite coffee.
  • Go bike riding with absolutely no plans.

But then, I see a layer of dust and lint just under  the edge of my bed, so I go fetch the little vacuum cleaner. On my way I see kids clothes out of place, so I grab them and turn back to put them in their closets. Then I will notice dishes that need to be done, the kind that I will NOT put in the dishwasher. It is just 2 or 3, how long can it take?  Then I start craving something sweet, so I take out a recipe book and start baking a cake. While it bakes I think it is sinful to just sit and wait, so I am pretty efficient and see if there’s dirty laundry that can be started while the cake bakes. By the time the cake is done and the laundry is started but undone, it is time to go get the kids. Then I panic because I completely forgot to figure out dinner. But we COULD have cake for dinner , right?  Wrong!  So I end up with a dirty kitchen, a delicious cake, wet laundry and hungry kids.

We end up going out for dinner, and while happy for not having to do more dishes, I feel guilty for not having prepared a hearty home made meal.

What is it that makes it so hard for me to surrender myself to house chore abandon and just accept and enjoy these precious hours when I am completely free: free of the MOM word, free of the disinfectant spray, free of the stove and the cleaning rag. Does anyone relate? Is there such thing as a subconscious attachment that has invisible but strong ropes that keep pulling us back to the motherly or housekeeping and boring world? You’d think we are getting paid!

There is one person in this world that actually cares about my lack of self-inflicted rest, about my not letting go of the cleaning supplies during the ME TIME, and that is my husband. If there is someone in this world that knows how to enjoy down time, it is him. Is that a guy thing too? He has actually taken naps. NAPS!!!!!!!!!!  A Nap in the middle of a slow afternoon. I drool over the thought. I think I have taken maybe 3 or 4 naps in 10 years. Naps are refreshing, they help up ‘charge our batteries’, they just feel good. Yet, the knowledge of the many things to be done in the house works as espresso shot through an IV for me if I try to nap. NO CAN DO.

I have not given up, I am still learning to enjoy the ME TIME. The few occasions I have succeeded, I have lost that edge that makes my husband call me the General…(not good).

Learning to accept that my house will never be 100% clean, kids will never put all their junk away and meals can’t be be made from scratch as often as I’d like should help me enjoy life as it is. With dust under the bed, and a couple of dirty pots in the sink and Rubio’s for dinner. It is really an art for me, this enjoyment and acceptance. The peace that comes with it.

Happy resting

 

My struggles as a bilingual Mom….

~ luvchoc71 ~ 1 Comment

With English being my second language, I have become very analytic of its (very unclear) rules and exceptions; its occasional but annoying nonsense on how certain words should be pronounced and its very confusing and often misused meanings: is a troop a member of the military or a group of them? Is COED a woman or a place where there are both men and women in it? Why is Chicago pronounced “Shicago”? Where did the “CH” sound go? I have found numerous inconsistencies in the English language, it just makes it so hard to speak it well. To make things worse, my children have started to correct my usage and pronunciation – both- of THEIR native language. Today my daughter told me I should have said, “in the meantime” instead of “meanwhile”. Yesterday they made fun of me for pronouncing “wafers” like “waffles” with the short sound, not the long. Why does it make me so frustrated? It just doesn’t feel good when you are throwing a speech to your kids about helping out at home, or finishing their homework when suddenly the TOTALLY wrong word comes out…and they start to laugh. UUUUGH!!!! I guess I should accept my role as an English Part Time student in my own home. 🙂

Here we go…My very first post

~ luvchoc71 ~ 2 Comments

After too many years of listening to my thoughts, seriously, just like a movie, hearing my inner voice forming opinions and making all sorts of comments about the people around me, the places I see, the fragrances and sights that my senses capture, the sad look in the eyes of  a total stranger – I could not take it any more, just like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

My head has been spinning wildly for years, with the urgency to put these thoughts on paper, in a word file, on my phone’s notepad (which I yet have to learn to use). After some encouragement from life long friends and relatives I decided to start my own blog today. Knowing that I truly love writing, I have high hopes for it to be my outlet for so many loud thoughts that need an escape. Even though my goal is not particularly to have many readers, it would be nice to know that I am leaving something behind, a footprint on this webpage, a testimony of my experiences that could make others laugh, smile, think and maybe, sometimes cry.

I promised myself to put my most honest thoughts and beliefs on these pages- even if it means making a few enemies along the way- but hopefully not many. Names will be (mostly) avoided, as I am aware that people’s lives are private.

I will start my blog writing about parenthood. Not wanting to feel guilty about venting like a hysterical mom, I will say this with no hesitation: I absolutely adore my 2 children. They love me like no one in this planet does and make me feel the most beautiful person (inside and out) on the face of the earth.

Moving on to the real day to day struggles:  why didn’t anyone (specially my mom) warn me about the tremendously huge job it is to be a parent? The overwhelming exhaustion , endless worry, the daily test in patience and tolerance, the sudden change in role from being a woman, to being a nurse, psychiatrist, crafts teacher, mathematician, dictionary, lullaby singer, cook, cleaning lady, chauffeur  to name a few? I want to believe that no one warns us because all those that became moms before us  -in their own experience- forgot about the tough first years of motherhood, and more importantly, because the many good things that came out of their own children’s hearts outweighed all the headaches, backaches, the tears and the broken hearts.  (I don’t know about you but my son -only 9 now- has broken my heart and made me cry more than once). Maybe no warning came because to watch their children grow up, be strong, be independent and form beautiful families themselves, has made them proud. Tired and wrinkly , but proud. And probably, in the eyes of their grown children, they still are the most beautiful woman in the world.

The truth is, as a working mom, with no one really to call a housekeeper (but myself and the invaluable help of my dear husband), I finish my days more tired and grumpy -on the verge of bitterness- more often that I want to admit. The kids have been “parked” on a stage of constant fighting, arguing and picking at each other, that seems to have no end. I have read advice on the web, I talked to a therapist, I have counted to a million, nothing really works, so every day I try to sit it out, and wait, and wait , and wait. (I am actually still waiting).

Sometimes I go to the store, and as I am standing in line at the checkout, I see an older mom with teenagers, boy and girl, like us, and see them doing exactly the same. What the heck??? Wasn’t this suppose to be  a stage? It looks to me like an endless race called WHO CAN DRIVE MOM CRAZY FASTER!

A friend told me once some siblings just don’t like each other, period. They are incompatible  in different aspects of their personalities, they rub each other the wrong way.  So it might not be a stage. In a way, this could be true. We don’t exactly choose our family (other than our spouse- thank goodness for that). So… to not like your brother, sister, cousin, etc should be absolutely acceptable, right?  So why is it so painful to see siblings -specially your own kids- not get along, not admire and respect each other, love each other?  Is wanting this harmony a learned pattern? An expected accomplishment? Could be. My siblings and I have always been very close. My parents instilled love and respect among us (parents and siblings both) almost as  a survival skill.   I am determined not to loose hope, but boy,  am I tired.

I am trying hard to be an optimistic about this whole motherhood thing when I am in a crisis with them. So I hang on to dear and memorable moments I have shared with them, like when my son, at age 4, asked if he could marry me.

Both my son and daughter, on separate occasions, have asked me “Mom, why is it that when kids feel sad or sick, all they want is their mom?”

So many ways to answer that one. This question brings back endless memories of the delicious warm smell of my own mother, specially in the mornings when I used to snuggle with her in bed, stealing from my fathers side. There is absolutely nothing in this world than can compare to the warm body and scent of a mother. For those of us that are still fortunate enough to have them in our lives….HUG AND KISS YOUR MOMS!  They all need our love, even more so when we grow up and leave the home.  For those of you who don’t, I strongly believe that the loving memories of your mothers about simple moments you shared with them, can do wonders when you dedicate quality time to reminisce and relive them. I do if often when I miss my grandma and I find myself smiling big.

Here I end my first entry. I hope there are many to come, and more often than I was feeding my starving dying diary (every 6 months or so).