jueves, 26 de enero de 2012
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.
viernes, 20 de enero de 2012
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.
domingo, 15 de enero de 2012
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.
miércoles, 11 de enero de 2012
viernes, 6 de enero de 2012
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.
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.
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.