Monday, June 21, 2010

Dichos De Mi Abuela

The Celestial Committee has put me in charge of raising 3 children.

How do I not screw this up? Is it trial and error? When I was pregnant with Maia, I would cry hysterically in the shower asking myself "What did you get yourself into? Pendeja!!" I felt like I had made so many mistakes in life, how could I possibly be in charge of someone else? Well, 3 children later, I still ask myself the same questions but I am alot nicer to myself.

There are no "real" mistakes and or accidents. Everything that happens is for a reason. The lesson may not hit us right away but it does eventually come.

With these 3 wonderful beings, I find myself sounding more and more like my mother. Especially with the questions, Why? and How Come? Where I resented the sayings my mother used to come out with, I now embrace them and they have become part of my life.

So, I hope to post a weekly "dicho" passed on to me by my mother or abuelitas. God Bless them. It is part of our culture and tradition.

The first dicho is "Los ninos son como los dedos de las manos. No son iguales." Translation: Children are like the fingers on your hand. None of them are the same.

So true! All 3 of mine are different. Is it middle child syndrome or is it the fact that we nicknamed her the viking. Does the baby get away with everything or is it that by the time we have the 3rd child, we are not as uptight about minor things? Don't sweat the small stuff, right?

For those that are scratching their head and mumbling all religions and politics....everyone has their own interpretation of these words. Whose to say that it is wrong? It is just for your reading pleasure and for those that don't agree or like it, hit delete.


Sunday, June 20, 2010

A Father's Day Toast

I was watching the movie "Julie & Julia" (or is it Julia & Julie?) with a friend and I was blown away by how much Julia's husband was in love with her. It was a toast over dinner when he stood up and said "You are the butter to my bread and the breath to my life." Like a knuckle head, I teared up, looked over at my friend Ana and said "Really? Movies like these set us up! No man in real life would say this, would he?" We laughed, not the men we know. But then again, Linda's husband is a romantic. Yay Linda!!

Well my people, I have thought about this for a while now. God bless my husband. He is no poet, he can't write me a song or paint me a picture. I still wait for him to set up a date night or make a candle light dinner. This man who got me with his calm nature (the six pack abs, long hair and nipple ring helped too) proposed in a helicopter flying over the coast at sunset. That was my piece of magic that I keep in the pocket of my heart. This is the man who stayed home for 2 weeks when each child was born to help bathe and change them. This is the man who does mechanics on my families cars, on my friends cars, plumbing and any other handy man task you throw his way without a complaint. This is the man who makes me french toast for Mother's Day and makes sure to close the bedroom door so I can sleep in late on weekends (8 a.m. counts for late in the mothers handbook. See Chapter 3, paragraph 4)

So.....I may not get that wonderful toast but I do get so much more. So lover, husband, friend...Happy Fathers Day! I love you "media naranja." You are the beacon that shines bright and steady in the heaviest of storms that leads me safely home.