When It Rains...

On Saturday the electricity in our garage that Carlos uses to connect the leaf blower decided to quit working. He looked around, reset all the fuses in our  house but nothing has helped. This was a bummer b/c not only does he have no electricity in the garage, he also doesn't know how to fix it himself.
On Monday after finishing up the first of the four classes that I teach out in West County, about a half hour drive from my home, I walked out to my car to find it dead. We jumped it, or tried to, but that didn't work. B/c we've *read "husband"* lazily ignored my months long suggestions of signing up for AAA I had to call a tow truck, have it and me delivered to the dealer. I was told it was going to cost an outrageous amount to replace the battery, and oh yea, there are two recalls on it, and it needs a new starter. So I was given a free rental (silver lining) and left in time to make it to my final class of the day.
Tuesday I went downstairs to do some laundry only to find the washer was not working. Carlos figured out that the circuit that the problem with the electricity in the garage had effected the line that the washer is hooked up to. Awesome. So until that problem is fixed, I have no washer unless I want to run an extension cord all the way upstairs and down the hall to a grounded outlet.
So today, when I realized that 2/4 of us were out of clean undies and socks I washed the necessities in the bathroom sink. I went back downstairs to stick the wet clothes in the dryer only to find that although working, it's not heating, due to what's probably a broken coil.

So, we have a broken car, no electric in the garage, no washer, and no dryer.
To be fair we should have seen it coming. I mean, it's been ages since any of our technology has broken down. We were due for some unfortunate financial commitments.

It's been a rough week in the Castaneda home...

Mommy Guilt?

It's a question because I'm not sure what it is. I mean, I know what it's supposed to be; that anguish you feel as a mother when you leave your children to go to work. It's supposed to be that tugging of your heart strings that comes with the reality of someone else having to care for your children. You made these kids to fill some hole in your life and now you're abandoning them to make a little cash. Or a lot of cash. Or just enough cash to make you feel like a grownup and not solely a mother....That's what most moms would define it as.
But here's the deal. I've decided I don't like this term. I don't think it's fair or just or doing my children or me any good to admit guilt for what I have and need to do as an adult.
My kids have two parents that work hard: Their dad loves them so much and wants so badly to be the best provider he can be. He quit his job and went back to school full time to get his PhD. He realized after 7 years with a good job in his chosen field that he wanted more, that he deserved more, and in order to get more, he had to pursue an advanced degree. Their dad is a full time student, a smart man who does more than most to better the future of his family.
Their mom works hard too. I have two part time jobs - from home - so that I can do two things. One: be with them, raise them, train them. And two: provide for my family financially while my husband pursues his advanced degree. We agreed on this path nearly 2 years ago. You can read more about the start of our crazy journey here. 
But here's the point. If I constantly focus on how sad I am to leave my kids when they go to their child care providers so I can work, I'm doing them a total disservice. If I've chosen this path then I need to be confident when I leave them. I need to be an example of hard work. I have to exude faith in my life decisions. Otherwise they are learning that work is an obligation, a hassle that we have to do, but don't want to do. And then what? My kids grow into mediocre adults and find mediocre jobs that manage to barely pay their bills and afford them the life they've been stuck with. I want better for them. I want them to learn that mom and dad love them so stinking much that mediocrity is not an option. If Ricky comes to me at 18 and says "mom, I want to be a plumber" my response to him will be the same if he chooses teaching or medicine or law as his future. And it's this - do what you want, but do it the best you possibly can. Don't settle. Ever. You're better than that. You're smarter than that. I've made sure of it. I worked hard so you would learn how to do the same and the value in it. You don't have to rich, but be happy. And the best way to be happy is to be confident in your choices. Find a life path that fulfills you and betters you as a human being, as a citizen of this world, as a partner, as a parent. Because otherwise, you're wasting what you have, what you've been raised with, what you've been blessed with.

Summer

Gone are our warm nights and whole days spent out doors. We're stuck inside and I find myself reminiscing about this past summer. Over a year ago, I won a contest that provided me with 4 round trip Amtrak tickets to anywhere in the continental US with sleeping and meal accommodations. We had a year to use it and finally, 2 weeks before expiration, we redeemed the prize for a trip to Dallas TX. Why TX? Well, my good friend Stacey lives there with her 13 year old daughter. She offered us her home while they were going to be out of town on their own vacation. It was going to work out perfectly, free board for the Castañedas, and Stacey got 3 days of free house sitting services. So we loaded our bags and boarded the Texas Eagle. We had two sleeper rooms across the isle from each other that each accommodated two people. Two seats faced one another that converted into a bed at night with a second bed up top that came down to make bunk beds. Our meals were covered on the train and let me tell you, that Texas Eagle sure knows how to feed their passengers. We had steak and roasted chicken and flan. Yum. When we boarded it was 8pm in St. Louis and just in time for the final dinner call. After eating we headed back to our rooms to put on our jammies and head to bed. Everyone slept decently aside from the train whistle that was too close for comfort. Our train pulled into Dallas at 11 the next morning where we rented a car for a great price thanks to a friend who works for Enterprise, and  headed to Stacey's. Her home sits about 30 minutes from downtown in a nice quiet subdivision. The three bedrooms, 2 full baths and large built in pool was perfect for our mini train vacation. We spent three days sight seeing, finding and enjoying food at Colombian restaurants (which we have none of in St. Louis) and we even got to hang out with good high school friend, her husband and two little girls who live near Dallas one afternoon. We took the kids to see a rodeo, the aquarium, Lego Land and ride on the Dallas Trolley. But the majority of our time and the best part of our trip was simply staying in and enjoying the pool. It was exactly what we needed. We get so busy with my teaching and Carlos being in school full time and not to mention two rambunctious kids that it was so nice just to relax and not worry about work or priorities for a few days. The kids loved the train and I'm thankful we could give them such a unique and fun experience.

 

Marriage and Pain

I feel like this past year has been inundated with painful relationships. A few years ago, I heard a story about a young married couple I knew that were separated. They had only been married a few years and already they were dealing with so much pain that they had to take some time apart to figure out what comes next. The most interesting thing I heard through that story was the comment a father of a friend made about the situation. He said "this seems weird right now, but in 10-15 years, half of the married people you know might very well be in a similar situation or even divorced." I processed that comment for a few days. I thought of all the married friends I have and tried to picture them divorced. I looked at my own marriage as well. I thought, "how does that happen? How do go from head over heels and 'soul mates' to then crying over your wrecked marriage and the mess that has become your life? How do you start over at 40? or 35? or 30?!" I couldn't fathom my marriage falling apart. I couldn't picture what would have to happen to make us conclude that apart is better than together.
And then a close friend started dealing with a separation, and then another and then another. It was a year of news that nobody wants to hear. And there was me. Trying to be supportive and encouraging and someone to just listen, while all the while, not getting any of it. I cried with these people, I held them while they coped with their breaking hearts. I vented to my husband about how spouses can treat each other so badly. (He warned me to cool the heck down or he was going to stop listening). I did what made the most sense to me and I just loved on them as much as I could. I don't know if it helped, I don't know if they even noticed it, but honestly it doesn't matter. The lesson that came out of all this was not how to be a supportive friend to someone dealing with a painful marriage, nor was it how to avoid one of my own. But what I discovered was this...
I still don't get it. I understand how people can make bad decisions, I understand that people are selfish and foolish. But I don't understand how they get there. How their brains make the decisions to stop communicating with their partner or to cheat on their partner or leave their partner. The areas between point a and point b remain a mystery to me. And that's ok. I should be happy that I don't get it. I should rejoice that my husband and I are surviving and enjoying marriage. I should be and am thankful that neither of us have been tempted to falter in our commitment or felt the need to tune out from each others needs and expectations. I'm thankful for him and pray that he is thankful for me. We respect one another and appreciate one another. This is what keeps us together. This is what held us close after the butterflies and honey moon stage wore off. Respect, Trust and Appreciation.

Mama D

This was the name my friends in high school gave to my mom. It was funny and catchy and I think she enjoyed being a mom that my friends actually enjoyed being around. She still keeps in touch with some of them. I had a cool mom. I still do. There are few women that I could even begin to compare to this person that has put up and dealt with so much over the years. Not to say that she had difficult children or a rough marriage. I like to think that she'd tell you that she had it pretty great. She and my dad raised 3 kids in a loving home. She often worked part time, but she was always home to greet us after school. She cooked dinner most nights (despite our jests of her poor cooking skills. Which now, I don't know why we ever gave her a hard time. She's an amazing cook. .... Sorry, mom)
She did it all. But the thing she did best, aside from attending sporting events, and driving us to social outings and helping us with school work, was loving us. "Of course she loved you, she's your  mom, that's her job." It is, I agree. But she loved us and still does, mind you, in a way that is incomparable. My mom loved us so much that I can look back on the 18 years I lived at home with fondness. Even when I was in trouble, or crying over how strict I thought she was being, I still felt loved. And my memories that involve pain or frustration are covered in this warmness that I recognize as love. I have an amazing mother.
There was a time that I didn't appreciate her. I'm sure many teenage girls go through periods where mom's opinion isn't all that important. We have those months or years maybe where our friends, our boyfriends, our societies opinions are more valuable than hers. Fortunately for me and my mom, I came around and realized the stupidity of my ways. Unfortunately for me, payback is a bitch and I foresee 2-3 years of B living with her grandparents so I can avoid her hormone driven wrath.
Mind you, I wasn't a difficult kid. I had friends that made good decisions, as did my brothers, I dated only mildly, and stayed out of trouble. But I remember making her cry. I remember fighting with her over dumb stuff. Stuff that no one should fight over but that I'm sure many teenagers and moms do. I was selfish, and rude and disrespectful. We grow up and suddenly have this knowledge about life, that if only we had had it in our teens, our lives would have been so much easier. But we didn't, and no one does. We have to learn those hard lessons the hard way. We have to walk before running and we have to fall down a few times before figuring it all out.
The worst feeling as a kid was not making my mom cry, it wasn't listening to her lecture me, or yelling at me. It was hearing her say "I am disappointed in you". Those 5 words crushed me. And after all these years, I've figured out why.
Some kids have crappy parents. Parents that don't hug them, parents that don't read to them as young children, parents that could not care less how they did in school or who their friends were or what things interested them. Yes, some parents shouldn't be parents. But my parents, my parents were/are amazing. I never doubted that they loved me because they reminded me over and over again. They never had to ask how school was or who my friends were or what my hobbies were, because they were involved in my life. My parents invested themselves in every possible meaning of the word. Yes, we were some of the most loved and best cared for kids I knew. I never feared that I could loose that love. Not once. It never entered my mind. But their respect, their approval, that is what I valued in them. When you're young you search for tons of approval from friends, teachers, peers, etc. But my parents approval, more specifically my mom's, that mattered more than anything else. As an adult, it still does. I value her opinion and her blessing higher than most. She's gone from being my mother, a maternal figure that taught me and raised me, to this vessel of wisdom, of comfort, of agape.
I struggle daily with being the type of mother I want to be to my own children. But in the end I know I must be doing something right because I hear my own mother talk to people about her pride in me as a daughter, a woman, and a mom. And that folks, is the highest compliment of all.

Our house, in the middle of our street.

Have you ever heard the lyrics to "Our House" by Madness. I always recollect the chorus to this song when I think about our home. Mostly because the only part of the song that I know is "our house, in the middle of our street". And seeing that our  house is in the middle of our street, well, you get it.
I recently had a conversation with my good friend Alyson about friendship. We lead different lives, ie: I have kids, she does not. But for 15 years, we've stayed close despite our different paths. I told her about  how when you become a mom, you often go through this process of "mom dating". You have to make new friends. There's no way around it. You suddenly get this urge to form social connections with women that share in the joys and pains of parenting. You realize that your previous friendships, those friends who work full time, and go to happy hour, do fun stuff every weekend and get to sleep in on their days off, just aren't cutting it. Don't get me wrong, I love that I've stayed friends with Alyson and a handful of others in the past 4 years, but those new friends, the ones that are moms, the ones that rejoice and commiserate with me, those are some amazing relationships.
And thus we come back to the topic of my house. More importantly, my street. These past 2 years I have been abundantly blessed by my neighbors. I've made some amazing friendships with women that have really enhanced my time as a mother of young kids.
We've lived in this home for 7 and a half years. Not until 2 years ago did I really ever get to know the people that lived near me. We knew our neighbors on either side but that was it. Our homes are fairly close together and whether it was because I worked full time or because I just didn't' care, I never made an effort to stray far enough from my front door to see who resided on my street. Thankfully, and only b/c I have children, I started walking. We began to spend time in our own front yard which lead to spending time in others front yards.....and on porches.... and then in kitchens. That simple act of stepping away from my comfort zone has developed into amazing relationships that without, I'm not sure how I would do it. The old saying "it takes a village to raise a child" has some serious merit. Of course I believe that families in rural areas with neighbors separated by miles can do just as fine a job as any raising their kids. But for me, my village can't be ignored nor can it be under-valued. Weekly, I call on my friends, my neighbors, for support, and every time, they oblige, as I do for them. We're a community. We're family.
I know it won't always be like this. Some day my little family will outgrow this home and we'll move. We may even move far away. This city has been my home for nearly 30 years and leaving will be difficult. But what will be the hardest, will be severing the closeness I have to this street. It will temporarily break me, of that I have no doubt. I envision myself fighting against what I know must happen, of temporarily refusing to go. "You'll have to make me" I'll shout. My husband will laugh and assure me that there are more neighbors to meet and form relationships with on our next street. But he'll be wrong. Bonds like the ones I've created over the past few years are rare. I recognize that and I treasure it. These sisters, these children, these stories that I've become a part of are so special and unique.

My hope is that I enjoy and appreciate what I have for how ever long I have it. To understand that not everyone is as blessed as I to have a neighborhood of friends, hell, cheerleaders that applaud their parenting successes and support them in failures. This is rare, and wonderful, and dare I say it, pre-destined.

Topics

I go through these stages of formulating a list of topics in my mind. It usually becomes super obvious to me when I know I haven't blogged in months. Things will happen, and I'll think "gee, I need to write about that." I use to have a journal *read 7* growing up. Journaling was my escape. It was my outlet for creativity. The difference was that, obviously, no one read my journals. I could put as intimate and detailed information down into them as I wanted without fear of anyone seeing my inner thoughts and feelings. Thank goodness because as most 16 year olds, my hormones were redonkulous and my "thoughts" were, um, typical.
So... Here's my grown up list with "typical" topics written down, so I don't forget it.

My street
My mother
Marriage and pain (not mine)
Our summer
Family


There's more and I'm sure it will come to me. But stay tuned. I plan on spending the next 2 hours of "nap time" doing some emotional spewing all over this keyboard.

Transitions and Role Reversal

When Carlos came home from work nearly 2 years ago, after working a great job for 7 years in his chosen field doing work he enjoyed, and said "I think I need to quit and go back to school full time for my PhD", I did two things. Once I managed to pick my jaw up off the floor, the first and most instinctive thing I did was panic. I thought "but I'm a stay at home mom! You can't quit your job b/c then I'd have to work full time and what happens to my two small children?! Who's going to care for them?! And what's more, I don't want anyone else caring for them, not even their grandparents! That's my job. Mine alone. We agreed on that before we got pregnant. You would work, I would go to part time from home and I would be here for our kids as they went from infants to toddlers and then to preschool age."
It took months for me to calm the heck down and realize that I would live, and more importantly, my children would too. Fast forward two years and you'll see, we're still here. We're fine. We're happy. It's been a year and a half since he left his job and became a full time student. And it took me almost that long to begin to understand my role in this part of our lives.
I did start working more, but not full time. Those first few months, after Carlos dropped his bomb about what his plans were for the next 4-5 years, we stayed up many nights, talking, fighting, me crying, him angry, me angry, blah blah blah. And in the end we came to an agreement. I would become a contractual teacher, using that hard earned college degree that was gathering dust on a shelf. I would continue the part time job from home that I already had and tack on additional teaching hours to supplement. I would do that as long as I could. As long as it provided. A year later we both admit this was the right choice.
Part of my toughest challenge in this transition was the thought of leaving my kids (obviously). I didn't want to and regardless of how much I had to, I couldn't justify it. But then the time came for me to find additional child care so that I could do my job. And it turns out, I love my job. I really do. In college I hated the idea of teaching. But, what do you know it's not that bad, and I'm actually pretty good at it.
This giant thing happened to us. This huge decision that we made, that we agreed on, that's going to keep us in this small house with a reduced income for 4-5 years, has been a challenge, but oddly enough, not for me as much as I thought.
My husband is a confident man who is good at what he does. But he's made this commitment that puts him in a position to not be able to provide financially for his family in the way he wants and in the way he always has. Sure, in the end it will all be worth it, but right now, it's tough.
The second thing that I did was stop thinking about myself. Yes, my fears of working and leaving my kids was a lot about how my kids would adjust. But deep down it was about me and how I would survive leaving them. It's taken me nearly two years to understand my responsibility. Because of the drastic change of life decisions, I've watched my confident husband, for the first time, doubt himself. It's hard for me b/c this is a side of him that I'm not familiar with. But I've learned how to step up. How to rise to the occasion. We've entered into this period of transition and role reversal. And it's great. He's learning how to be contempt and push through, and I'm learning how to take the reigns.
He asked me the other day if I ever regret his decision to go back to school  b/c of the cut in pay we've taken. I didn't even have to think about it.
My immediate and honest response was "No, not a bit".

Do's and Don'ts

I'm a good mom. This is not a statement of conceit. Simply, it's my ability to be confident in how I parent, how I discipline and how I love my kids. It's important as parents to be confident in our most important job. If I was the CEO of a company and viewed myself as unskilled and lazy, surely my employees would see that and it would reflect how they treated me. Same goes for kids. If I'm sure of myself and my ability to do everything I can to ensure their growth and healthy development, then they will respect me more, cherish me more and obey me more. There will be no doubt in their minds, as they become adults, what kind of parents they had. They will hopefully say "I had great parents. They loved me, were fair to me and taught me right from wrong." This, at least, is my dream. My goal is to raise my kids similarly to how I was raised because I am an adult who can look at my childhood while making that same statement about my own parents.
Therefor, yes, I find large amounts of self work in the way I parent, and large doses of assurance in the way my children reflect my parenting.

With that, I give you my do's and don'ts.

I Don't:
-Cut off the crusts of a sandwich, the skins of an apple or any other fruit/veggie. My kids need to learn to eat food the way it was intended.
-Give into my children's whines. (Most of the time)
-Buy my kids "children's meals" on the rare occasion we eat fast food. They don't need that plastic crappy toy, nor do I need to spend the extra cash for it. If I don't get a toy, neither do you.
-Let them drink copious amounts of juice or milk. Water is always the healthier option, It's relatively free and  most kids in the world have never had a juice box nor have a clue what chocolate milk is.
-Candy/sugar is a treat. Not a part of their diet or daily routine. I have a high energy young son who does not need the extra sugar.ever.
-Let my kids stay up late. Night time is my time with my husband, time to relax, time to lay down and vege out. If my kids aren't quiet and/or asleep by 8, we have a serious problem on our hands.
-Buy tons of processed food. I want my kids to be healthy. I want them to see the value of making bread or yogurt or snacks from scratch and enjoying what their hands have made or their eyes have watched be made. Also, it's cheaper to make a batch of popcicles, or cookies or granola then it is to buy them.
-Give threats that I'm not going to follow through with. One of the best parenting tips that I ever received was don't threaten them with something you're not seriously going to follow through with. If I say "do that again and we're leaving" then I better be prepared to walk out the door in the case they choose to  make a bad decision.
-Baby my kids. Yes, they're young and sweet with delicate hearts and minds and I wish I could stop time and keep them that way forever. But if they want to be treated like a big kid, they better quickly learn how to act like one.

I Do:
-Love my kids to the moon and back. They are my everything, my essence and my joy. Nothing can nor ever will replace or compare to that.
-Relax if one my "don'ts" slips through the cracks. Tomorrow is another day, a clean slate and a fresh start.
-Spank. Give time outs. Take things away when they can't share and ground them from social time with friends if they're out of line. Strong discipline in the most important lesson I can give them.
-Hug, Snuggle, Kiss, Wrestle, Giggle, and Laugh. This is life and we must remind each other to smile and enjoy it.
-Cry. I have off days. I have days where I feel like a failure. It's ok to cry.
-Rejoice in my partner in parenting. My husband helps me to be the parent I am. He supports me, my decisions and my methods. He's the perfect man and father for this family.
-Allow my kids to be kids. They are encouraged and often forced to play outside (even when it's cold out) as much as physically possible, get dirty, play with worms and ride their bikes. I grew up with limited TV watching as a kid and think I am a better person b/c of it. I learned how to use my imagination, create adventures in my mind and fall in love with the outdoors.
-Try to instill good manners. "Please", "Thank you", "Yes and No, Ma'am/ Sir", calling someone Mr. or Mrs, etc. There are only so many years where I am their main influence. I better get their manners on the right path now while I can.
-Realize that what works for me doesn't work for everyone.
I'm in no way an expert. I fail constantly and forget my own rules. I make mistakes and love when I learn new ideas from other parents about what works for them. I'll never tell you what you're doing as a parent is wrong, but if you ask, I'll simply tell you what works in our home. Parenting is hard, and it's a process. I'm learning as I go just like everyone else. And I know that just as my kids are growing and discovering, so too am I.

On Mother's Day

Mother's Day.... It was a good day for this family. I was surrounded by my beautiful children doing things I love like cooking, hiking, eating, and playing. My husband did some dishes, which rocked! We grilled some burgers for dinner and everyone made it through the day with few tears. It was a good day.

For My Mom:

When I think about being a mom I think about how hard it is. It's weird. You make that decision that you're ready for a baby, that it's time to take on this new job of motherhood. Then you try for months to get that dream to come true. And then it does and you're so ecstatic. Life feels complete and blessed and full of hope and possibility and adventure. And then that baby is born and within a few days or weeks the bliss turns into this realization that this tiny, dependent person is stuck with you and you with it for the rest of your lives. That no matter what, better or worse,  you are connected and obligated to one another. It's not a feeling of regret, just intense epiphany that there's no turning back. This is it. This is your life now. Dirty diapers and snot and whining and constant eating and jokes about body noises and hitting and biting and yelling and crying. This is life. And it only gets worse. They get older and learn how to talk and communicate and reason and manipulate and make comparisons to other people's lives and other people's parents. And then they become teenagers and you find yourself, hating them, but only for a second and very rarely. And you wonder what you've ever done to create such a selfish monster. What parenting book did you forget to read that would have prepared you for, no prevented, this behavior?
And then they graduate and although they've given you hell and brought you to your knees in gut wrenching cries more times than you can count, you still love them and slip into a tiny depression at the realization that they're old enough to leave you. You've been preparing them their whole lives to be independent and free thinkers and open minded and open-hearted. You've taught them how to use a check book, a debit card, the dangers of credit, to communicate with authorities and take responsibility for their actions. It's time to let them go and you momentarily forget all the chaos that you went through in raising them and start to beg them to just stay a little longer. "Do a year at home, live here while you look for a job. I can help." But no. They're ready. It's time. And mentally, they're already gone. They've started their new adventures. One's that don't include you or hikes at the park, or looking for worms under rocks in the back yard. Adventures that have nothing to do with helping you make cookies and learning how to spell their name. No, these new adventures of theirs are scary. Ones that could get them physically hurt or worse yet, emotionally. Their hearts are going to get broken and their confidence shattered and you know it but your role has changed and they don't want to hear your wisdom or be consoled with your hugs and words of encouragement. So you stay quiet and promise yourself that they need to learn some lessons on their own. They want this and they're ready and it's time.

Fast forward 10 years. Your baby hasn't been a baby for a long time. She's married and a mom herself and she's got this whole life and friends and a job and responsibilities. She had rough years through her early 20's, had her heart broken like you knew she would, but she's made it through. She's happy and healthy and in love and a mom. She has started on this journey that is so familiar to you and you remember your own beginnings like it was just yesterday when you looked at that pregnancy test and saw the "plus" sign. You marvel a little at how karma really does exist and try not to laugh when your grandchildren hit and bite and yell at their mom, your daughter. It's been 30 years of a journey that is un-comparable. It's been 30 years of worry and fighting and angst, and tears. But above all it's been 30 years of deeply routed, unconditional, continuous love. A love that has been through valleys and climbed up mountains and plummeted to the depths of hell and back again. A love that has been the hardest love you've ever experienced. A love that has conquered and has grown and has flourished. A love that, although you found it hard to imagine, you hoped would be contagious and would be passed on through other people as your child grew older. And it has. The love your daughter has for her children is proof that you did it right. That you loved her the right way. The best way you could and in the only way she understood. You loved her perfectly because you created love in her world and you continued to use that love to raise her, care for her, discipline her, instruct her and guide her. She is who she is because of you. Because of your love. You are her heart beat. And she is yours. For better, for worse. Forever and Always.

Bela turns 4

Last week our growing girl turned 4. She celebrated with a Brave Party at Drace Park (where we always do her parties) The weather was perfect as it has been every year. The turnout was wonderful and she had a great time.

   

A Superhero I am Not

If I had Superman's speed I could be so much more productive. I could get everything done and still have time to be crafty and creative. Sometimes I over extend. I know this is a normal problem with moms and women in general, but I often make the mistake of assuming that I don't fit into the same mold. I tell myself that I am unique and in a 7 day period can manage to work 20 hours, be home with my kids 5 of those 7, do all the laundry, cleaning, cooking, disciplining and gardening. I do start all those things, but none of them always get seen to completion.
I long to be an expert gardener. I long to have sewing skills that allow me to whip up new outfits and decor items in no time. I long to provide healthy, balanced and yummy meals for my family every day. I long for many things. Unfortunately my garden will probably be overcrowded as usual this year b/c of my inability to plan for proper spacing, watering, soil pH  etc. My sewing machine will continue to win in our battles of who's in charge b/c I don't have time to re-read the manual and don't sew enough to remember how I did it last time. And we'll probably eat take out or left overs way more than I care to admit because trying to cook every night is sometimes just too much.
Yes, it would be nice if I could move at the speed of light, turn back time and fly (because who doesn't wish they could fly?). But I'll have to settle with "good enough" abilities because, tonight, that's all I've got.

Love Language

Growing up in a Christian community there was a lot of talk about love languages. We took tests to see how we received love and how we offered love. We compared our styles to our peers and tried to evaluate, on our own, if those results were actually accurate. I think my love languages have changed as I've matured and dealt with different trials, ups and downs in my life. I've reached a point where I think things have leveled out, so to speak, and the way I love and receive love has become pretty steady. Maybe it's because I'm married, I have a regular routine, I have children, I'm a home owner. And maybe it's none of those things. Maybe it's just who I am. Either way, I find peace in my love language of gifts. When someone puts in the time and effort to give me something thoughtful, unique, and heart felt, I see their love for me through it. Oh man, and when it's something they made themselves, it's like Christmas in my heart! It's not that I love getting gifts. It's that I see the love someone has for me through their desire to make me happy. And if you know me or someone with the same love language, you understand this.

Many people offer love in one language and receive it in a different one. Mine however are the same. I find so much joy in giving someone a gift as much as in receiving one. It's difficult b/c I'm married to a man who's does not receive love through gifts. So as much as I love giving creative things to my husband, I know that he doesn't receive them with the same enthusiasm  It's not because he's ungrateful, it's just not how he interprets love. This has been a hard lesson for me in my marriage. I can't tell you how many times I've been so excited to show him something I created, or purchased specifically for him and then had to fight disappointment because he didn't react in the way I wanted him to. I'm still learning of course, but I've grown a lot in the ability to remind myself that although I should continue to pursue my love language, I should not be discouraged when someone else doesn't receive it equally.

Anyways, I've done a lot of loving this week. Starting with meals for a cousin with a new baby, another cousin with some health problems and  then some muffins for a good friend getting over the flu. Although I don't envy the stress that comes with any of their situations, I'm grateful for them in their current conditions so that I have an excuse to love on them in my own delicious, home made way.

It's Been a Pinterest-ing Week

So after about 6 weeks, the kids and I are finally into our routine on Monday, Wednesday and Friday; the days that I am *pretty much* home with them all day. This week particularly, I've been able to get a lot done that involves pulling stuff off of my Pinterest boards and actually completing them.

I started with a pin about growing your own plants/trees from left over seeds. I had bought some avocados and a pineapple at the store so those are the two I'm growing. So far not much has happened but I'm pretty sure it takes awhile. I'll let you know how that goes....

I recently made a cushion for our large bay window. That's seriously been on my list for the full 6.5 years we've lived here. Oh well. (And by "make a cushion" I mean I found a long cream colored valance that had been hanging in the same bay window when we moved in and has since been stored in a box in the basement, stuffed it with some extra pillows and poof, a comfy neutral toned full length cushion.)

Anywho, the cushion wasn't quite long enough so I stuck some other throw pillows we had at each end. Now the orange and red ones were perfect but I had these two other little ones that had originally been from a bed set that we don't use. So I found another unused valance, the same color as the one used on seat cushion and got the idea to put some scripture in Espanol with a stencil from this pin. The first is Joshua 24:15 and the second is 1st John 4:19.

We have one window in our bedroom that was in desperate need of a spruce up. So I created fabric flowers, glued them onto an existing curtain tie, and then glued on a button so I could hook it together once I wrapped it around the drape.

I created a sign for our front porch. It says "welcome" in Spanish. Carlos thought there should be an "s" on the end of the word, but after doing some research online I was able to find lots of welcome mats, signs, etc, with the same word, minus the "s". You'd think that a native Spanish speaker and a college graduate with a degree in the same language would be able to figure out something so simple  Oh well. The idea for the sign came from here. And the way I made it came from here. And I mean seriously, it was so easy! I'm going to be making lots of signs!

Finally, this pillow. I didn't make it, my mom did. But the flower in the middle was quite fragile and so we weren't able to keep it anywhere that the kids could reach. But I liked the colors and the style and have been meaning to figure something out in order to be able to use it on our bed. So I took off the original flower and then cut out a bunch of fabric circles and then glued them all together.

The best part about my crafting... I did no sewing at all. Hot glue is my new best friend! 

I also made a couple recipes off of Pinterest including this and this and this. I didn't get pictures of them before they were gone.

Needless to say, it's been a good week.

Princess's and a Birthday

Bela has a limited number of actual friends. I mean being three years old kind of limits her ability to get out and there and fill her social agenda. However on the one day of preschool she goes to each week she's managed to make a real friend. I mean all the kids are her "friends" but Leena is like her FRIEND. She talks about her a lot and the teachers comment on how they're super close during their activities.
So today, Leena had a birthday party. A princess party. One where the attendants were required to wear a princess dress. I mean this was the real deal.

   

It was adorable and so well put together. Leena's mommy did a fantastic job. Even dad particpated by putting on a sharp looking suit and passing out pink lemonades in champagne glasses presented on a silver tray. Pure elegance for all the tot sized royalty.

TMI...I mean really

If you have no desire to read about poop in the tub, I suggest you stop reading now. No really... This is me warning you. I don't want anyone complaining about how I wrote on such a gross topic. No one is forcing you to read. Ok, so we're clear, yes? Good...






Tonight at bath time, both kids were playing in the tub. Carlos and I were close by cleaning up the kitchen. This is how the next 5 minutes went down.

*Bela screaming from the bathroom*
Me: (I run in to see what the big deal is)(When I arrive on the scene, Bela is standing on the bathroom floor and R is sitting in the tub) Why are you screaming?
Bela: There's popo in the tub!
Me: RICKY!!! GROSS!!!
Bela: No, it was me!!!
Me: Bela, that's disgusting, why on earth would you do that?!! (This is a kid that has been potty trained for over almost 2 years and hasn't had an accident of that magnitude since, I don't know when.)
Bela: I don't know! I just had to!
Me: OK, well Ricky, get out! And Bela I'm not cleaning this. You know better than to do that and you know when you're body needs to go. You know to listen to your body! There is no excuse. So you are going to clean that up!
Bela: (Breaks down and starts yelling) I AM NOT CLEANING THAT UP! I DON'T WANT TO CLEAN THAT UP!
Me: Well, I don't either. I spent 2 years cleaning stuff like that from your body and I'm done. You are going to clean it and perhaps that will teach you to never let that happen again!
Bela: (repeats protest)
Me: Well then you can stay in that bathroom all night with a stinky tub, because you're not coming out until it's clean!
Bela eventually realized I was totally serious and submitted to my demands. I grabbed some paper towels, a plastic bag, threw them at her and said "best of luck".... Ok, not really. I helped her.

But no joke, that will teach her not to poop in my tub.
#ThisIsNotWhatISignedUpFor

Date Day

As a married couple with 7.5 years under our belts and two kids running circles around our legs, we try to get out every once in awhile. Sometimes just dinner is enough but often we try to do something different. Something fun and out of the ordinary. We're blessed to have both my parents and his mom living close enough to babysit for us when we need to Get.Out!
I bought a Groupon a few weeks ago for rock climbing and we finally used them last week. Now I haven't been since high school and Carlos had never been. So it was a trying, albeit exciting, experience for both of us. I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a creative date idea. We climbed... and fell a lot. And after about 45 minutes we were done. It's extremely exhausting and physically challenging. Especially if you've never done it. (Or in my case have and are determined to try the hardest walls to prove your expert skills and monkey like maneuvers.)

Heatlh and Wellness part 2

Part of this health kick, is me being aware of the fact that the older I get, the lazier I get and the harder it's going to be to stay fit. I used to be a runner. I loved to run. I was good at it. I was fast. I think the last time I ran was last spring. uggghhhhhh. I have the knees of a 90 year old and use it as an excuse to do  nothing. It's a bad excuse considering my knees would be stronger if I worked out more often, or ever. So today I ordered a yoga mat. We have a weight bench in the basement that rarely, (re: never) gets used and I have an exercise ball as well. So here's your job, oh trusty reader. Keep me accountable. I'm not trying to lose weight, I just want to build muscle tone. So don't let me down. I'm counting on your nagging and incessant reminders. Mmm K?

In Search of Health and Wellness

Since becoming a mother of two I've tried to be healthier. Carlos and I are both small people. We have been blessed with high metabolisms and have never really had to work to keep weight off. But then my kids got to the age of needing regular balanced meals and I figured, now's a good time to start being more aware of what we're putting in our mouths. I haven't gone completely off grid and started eating cardboard, but I do try to make as much from scratch as I can. We eat a lot of fruits, veggies, lean meats, whole grains, etc. I make my own yogurt, banana ice cream, granola, breads and so on. Getting my kids to eat their veggies is still like pulling teeth but it's baby steps, right?....errr,... right?
So I was pretty thrilled the other day when B came into the kitchen and told me "my tummy is still grumbly. Can I have some salad?" Heck yes you can. Here! Can I get you a side of Kale, steamed broccoli or spaghetti squash with that?!

The salad was all she wanted but don't think I didn't try to take advantage of her sudden interest in greens. It was a success in my book. I'll take it!

This post is a long time coming

I am a busy woman. I mean of course all  moms are. Running around keeping two small kids in check 5 days a week is tiring. Keeping a house running properly, being married, and all the other things that accompany just being a person, add up. But I've gone ahead and added 30 hours of work on to all of that each week. I mean, really? Who is this driven professional hanging out in my body?
I have made it so my schedule allows me to be home on Monday, Wednesday and Friday all day (and of course the weekend). With the exception of an hour and a half on Monday at noon for me to go teach one class. Half of that 30 hours is working for Davis Interactive which I do from home during naps, after bed time, and on weekends when the hubs is home to take over kid duty.
My classes have gone ridiculously well. I really am thrilled by the amount of response that has stemmed from starting group classes last August. I have even gotten to a point where I am turning people away because I don't have the time to add more to my work load each week.
This past fall, when Carlos decided to quit work and go back to school full time for what could be the next 5 years, I did some serious soul searching and praying to figure out what my new role was going to look like. Finding a full time job seemed to be the easiest financial solution but it didn't take care of our two young kids that, as much as I tried, I couldn't force myself to be ready to leave for full time work outside of the home. So I thought, 'What can I do that I'm good at?...That I'm qualified for?...That I can make a living off of?...
And then it hit me! I went through a heck of a lot to get a college degree and spent an unfortunate amount of money on it. And other than running a bi-lingual home, I'm not using said degree! So, that was it. I talked to a homeschool neighbor and friend of mine about offering Spanish classes in group settings for all ages. In the first session alone I had 5 classes filled. (Filled being no more than 10 students). I figured out a fair rate that would keep me paid for my time and materials but was still acceptable to families that are living on a limited income. I used homeschool networks, yahoo groups and FB to spread the word and spread it did.
I currently cram 13 classes into 2 days and then 2-4 private lessons dispersed throughout the week (depending on the week).
I'm grateful to have a degree in something that I use daily. I know so many people who don't and for so many years, I was one of them. I'm grateful that I have skill that there is a market for. I'm surprised how much I love teaching. If you had asked me when I was in college if I was going to use my Spanish degree for teaching, I would of said "h to the no!" Heck if you had asked me the same question 2 years ago , my response would have been the same. But it's grown on me.
A friend of mine recently asked me when I have "me" time. I laughed and said "never". But honestly, I'm ok with that. I get to raise my kids with minimal outside help. I work my ass off on the 2 days that they are at Parents Day Out and at my parents home so that I can earn enough of an income to not have to resort to full time child care. I'll sacrifice "me" time if it means I get to keep the rest of it!