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.