martes, 27 de marzo de 2012

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. 

miércoles, 21 de marzo de 2012

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...

domingo, 18 de marzo de 2012

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)

viernes, 16 de marzo de 2012

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.

martes, 13 de marzo de 2012


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.

jueves, 8 de marzo de 2012

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...


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!".

lunes, 5 de marzo de 2012

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?

viernes, 2 de marzo de 2012

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.
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