Saturday, November 29, 2008

Talk

Maybe this song is so important to me because my kids love it. One day, my kids may cease their constant chatter and ability to speak their hearts to me. Now I complain about the constant stream of conversation in this house, but I hope they will always talk when they do feel like a puzzle that can´t find it´s missing piece.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom...

Two heroes in one room, that is great conversation and bliss for my ears. Bill Moyers this week talks with Michael Pollan. Give yourself time away from whatever your maddening crowd may be to enjoy this interview in two parts.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Pre-Thanksgiving Thanks

 

Hearts, teeth that come out by the roots, and the mother of all mother´s...


 

Ben´s last sleepover after two years. We are so sad that Ben is moving back to the states, but we are grateful for the years the boys have spent together in Mexico. Thanksgiving is a fitting day of endings and beginnings. We love you Ben and we´ll see you at Legoland!
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Monday, November 24, 2008

A Piñata

 


A lovely sight! Just before the day ended in Roarke´s profusion of blood. It was worth it, he doesn´t even miss his teeth, he likes the attention.
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Sunday, November 23, 2008

Lost Teeth and Some More Help

Well, Roarke lost not one but two teeth. Because he always has to out-do his siblings? Hmm...I´m not sure but he is a fierce risk tasker and the stakes run higher then, don´t they? So today is the first day my three year old woke up looking like a boxer. Here´s how it happened: We went to Los Charcos to put in our time with manualidades, that´s hand crafts for you English speakers, and stop laughing at me because you know my secret that I suck at crafts. The task was to make a lot of piñatas for sale at the Los Charcos Christmas Bazaar. Literally, I was 2 minutes from being finished, we had been there for 4 hours and were ready to go. In those two minutes, Roarke ran outside to play a sort of keep-away game fell and smashed the right side of his face into a tree stump. Out came two teeth, roots still intact.

For those of you that may not know, Sebastian lost his left front tooth in a weird accident November 11, 2001. Seven years and 11 days later...baby brother tops his loss. Did I mention I had a crappy week? Oh yes, there have been many real life saints along the way but something about this loss was the breaking point for me. Really, what are two teeth? Baby teeth at that, you put them under a pillow and the tooth fairy comes, víola, everyone is happy. However, the loss of teeth is following this theme of broken things, to the extreme, in my life. My circuits are overloaded, I need some new circuit breakers, thank you very much.

Iretí, Roarke´s teacher from school, held him on the way to the dentist. How my heart did weep, for Richard and myself. One of us should have been holding him, not just driving. How Roarke did cry; "Mommy, I´m tired! I want to sleep on your shoulder." I drove with precision and speed that I had not encountered before, in Mexico anyway. If I could just get to the dentist, I could hold him and offer comfort. Iretí was a constant reminder to slow down, breathe, everything would be okay, put on a face of tranquility for your child. Everything was okay, no lost life or limbs, no need for panic. Roarke was a champ through x-rays and sitting on my lap and when we were done, this is what he said:

R: "I wanted to loose two teeth, mommy. Will the ratoncito (Mexican equivalent of the tooth fairy) visit me?"
Me: "Yes, he will visit you tonight."
R: "Can he bring me a wallet?"
Iretí: "Well, you know, the rantoncito has been very busy today, maybe he cannot bring a wallet tonight."
R: "Oh, okay. Can he bring it tomorrow?"
Iretí: "Yes, I think so."

After all that, he really wanted to loose teeth? Isn´t there a better way to earn money, like clean up your toys? Well, at the end of the dentist visit, I just couldn´t keep the dam gates closed anymore. My tears for the week of challenging obstacles became too much and I cried on Betti´s (the Dentist, her full name is Beatrix, the alternate girl name we threw around for Roarke) shoulder...for a week of losses and gains, for Roarke´s lost teeth and bravado, for Richard´s absence, for an amazing community of people that help when you are immobile, for not leaving two minutes earlier.

Later that night, I received two phone calls from Los Charcos parents. They were checking in to ascertain Roarke was doing okay. One conversation was in puro Español, hard for me on the phone, I´m better face to face. How my heart sang to know the other family was concerned for Roarke and offered their support in whatever way I needed. The second phone call was from my friend Paloma. Her words still bring tears to my eyes. The summary of her words were; I realized today what a strong and beautiful woman you are and how glad I am that we are friends. How I needed those words when I felt anything but strong and beautiful. My weakest moments, those beautifully painful human moments, when I just want to sit down and cry, but I cannot. Roarke, I said a few posts ago, you make me grateful for living in the moment...I am, but I am afraid.

How grateful I am that I have this fierce boy, Iretí-the maestra (because she offered me strength when I had none), Betti for her shoulder to cry on, Maestra Lucy and Jose Luis for bringing the lost tooth #2 and the hugs, Richard for talking me out of my 100 foot tree, Anna for conversations in Español, and Paloma. Paloma gave me the greatest gift of all, pure love. I felt anything but brave, it was a moment of ordinary courage, when I felt like a chicken heart. For someone to tell me, it´s okay, you did it...this life has been insane, but today has been okay.

Friday, November 21, 2008

A Day of Obstacles and Lots of Help

Have you ever had a day when you want a gin and tonic by 9:30 am? No? Consider yourself lucky. That was my day yesterday. Sucky from the moment I stuck my warm sleepy feet on very cold Mexican tiles. The details of the pitfalls of the day aren´t really important, it´s the same story, different details for everyone, the world over. The people that enter your life in a day and offer to give is what matters. I was on the receiving end of so much love and those random acts of kindness...I´m still pinching myself.

Thanking Alex, Ramon and Josh. For taking my kids to school and helping me out of a rut, literally. Thank you Shannon for this kid/husband tested, mother/wife approved song, we love you for bringing us a new family groove! Thank you Bjanetta for all things DIY and being all around amazing woman. Martha, thank you because you are you (and will listen to me tell stories in bad Spanish and make it better). Thank you Richard for being a patient husband. Thank you to my inanimate camera for deciding to work because without it I wouldn´t have been able to capture the following moments.


 

 
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I was intrigued by Sebastian´s yoga pose and the use of mudras. He said "I don´t know where I learned it. It´s just here, mom." Wow. Yes, Sebastian it really is just here. Thank you to the universe for the day. Out of selfish me moments, I received the lesson that I am small in this life without others.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Look Out it´s Pirates on Parade!

Stealing massive amounts of oil, the pirate life is still...alive. Richard tells me he found gas for $1.67 in Houston last week, maybe the pirates are helping us? Who the hell knows in this crazy world.

Shave the Date




So irreverently funny! Follow the link to Mominatrix for the end of Bush happiness.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Single Parenting Sucks

Have, I told you how much I dislike parenting by myself? Just as I am sure Richard hates living in Houston by himself and starting a business from scratch otra vez . The financial disaster of the United States has hit us so hard. If I were to go back to Indiana, Richard still would not be present, there are no jobs for him in Indiana. Houston is too big for my taste right now, one of those "don´t mind to visit, can´t live there." Our life is relaxing and small enough to be manageable here. One thing is missing; Richard, daddy, dad, honey. There is a hole in the fabric of our lives.

Often I have wondered how? How do men and women all over the world parent, sanely, by themselves? Most days I can keep it together, I don´t want to leave my children with images of mommy dearest. Today though, we were getting ready for school after a four day weekend and my patience had trickled down to a drip-drop. Roarke asked for blueberry cereal, when I gave him the blueberry cereal he screamed "I said I wanted cheerios!" Okay three year old indecision, no problem if I have someone to help me diffuse Roarke´s anger. But it´s just me and my head is hot and I think it´s going to explode all over the three lunches I´m preparing. The daily requests, constant changing of minds, constant chatter in my ears, constant questions...I am simply overwhelmed.

How do I continue mindful parenting if all I want to do is run, far and fast. Away from sucky financial situations, a three year old screaming at me and broken things filling up my life. Find a happy place...

We are all healthy, no bouts of salmonella or typhoid (like the first year). The snake I almost stepped on yesterday wasn´t poisonous, or at least chose to ignore me. I love my three wild kids. Each one delivers a gift of wonderfulness to this world daily, Sebastian you are wise and rational when I am not. When I was shrieking about the snake yesterday, Sebastian said: "Next time mom, just get the shovel and whack it." So sensible, not really humane, but it´s a 5 foot slithery snake! Isabel you are so beautifully calm, she goes about her day with her "gems" and makes patterns on table tops, that glitter and make my eyes happpy. Never was there a girl breathing pink and smiles like you, for me. Roarke, un fuerte niño, you help me live in the moment because everything can change so rapidly with you. To all the single parents in this world, you are strong and have amazing courage, knowing you all are there...I feel a little less crazy and a lot less lonely this chilly morning.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Bi-Ligual Kiddos

Well, the election is over. What a whirlwind ride is was, I´m beyond happy with the choice Americans made. Obama´s election speech was pure beauty and McCain conceeded with graciousness. Let´s move foward. I learned yesterday that Obama speaks Spanish, wow. For me, President Elect Obama just keeps becoming the total package. (This is not to say he will fail, all presidents do, let´s be realists.) When I watched Obama´s ad for Puerto Rico where he spoke Spanish, I felt proud of him. So his accent is mas ó menos, he actually knows another language.

Let´s face it, this world is shrinking. One of the reasons we felt compelled to live in Mexico is for our children. Our children are rapidly becoming native speakers of another language, and it doesn´t stop there...Sebastian wants to speak 5 languages like his maestro. Do it kid, speak, learn to communicate with people from all over the globe, this world needs you to do just that. I watch my children as they chatter away in Spanish with their compañeros and I have no idea what they are saying. My heart glows when I see their ease in communicating with others, laughing with joy, arguing in their second language, explaining what their mother cannot. I am not embarassed of my ignorance, I am proud of my children in their ability to go into the world and be comfortable.

Lately, I´ve been trying to imagine what it must have been like for my great-grandparents to immigrate to the United States and be unable to communicate. I know all to well what it is like, to be frustrated when you don´t have the words in a different language to express yourself. I have placed an enormous task in front of my children to perform and be a citizen of this world. They have adapted and embraced a new language and it is becoming theirs. This is not an easy task, live in abroad for a year where English is not the first language, you´ll find you´ve only touched the tip of the iceberg in that year´s time, it´s very humbling. My great-grandparents must have relied heavily on their children to help them with the nuances of the language, as I do.

Where my ancestors failed though was denuciation of their Sicilian culture and language. After awhile, no one in my Father´s family spoke Italian anymore, because the United States of America required English to be spoken, especially if you were an entreprenuer, which my great-grandparents were. The culture I have lost, the inability to communicate with people that make up 50% of my gene pool (that´s a great portion of the person I am in the "Great American Melting Pot"), makes me throughly irritated. If the United States is so great and such a melting pot, why don´t the majority citizens speak more than one language? Why is it intrinsic that when you become "American " you shed the person you used to be? That seems homogenous and lazy to me.

Well, we can only be the change we seek in the world, my hero Gandhi said it, he was right. I am doing that. I realize I am projecting my fondest wishes on my children, to know many languages, that was my obsession from the age of 12. In my quest for grappling the nuances of more than just English, I hope to serve my children well...that reads, I hope I don´t cause them to have too much therapy later in life. However, if they do have to enter therapy and hash out anger with their mother, currently they will be able to do it in two languages. And that is my Gratitude point for the day, my bi-ligual kiddos.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Props to Sebastian

Just wanted to say, yes my freshly 7 year old son, Sebastian, took the photo at the top. He loved the murals at Kope Cafe in Gulu. That is where he had playtime with his best bud from the age of crawling, his first sip of Coca-Cola (wards off jet lag, you know), first viewing of Invisible Children, first sight of a soldier with a loaded AK-47. Gulu was a time of many firsts for both of us, it was a grand adventure with my oldest. Thanks for a great photo, Bash! Love, your mama

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

That is exactly how I feel!

I found this quote in the circular world of the internet from a wonderful site I stumbled upon, Ordinary Courage. This is the quote for the journey I am on right now.

It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.

--Brother David Steindl-Rast

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Those Daily Surprises

Tuesday is one of my favorite days of the week, it means Tiangus! Market day, thrift store heaven, for super cheap IF you are brave enough to elbow in with the Señoras, which I am now. Tomorrow begins Isabel´s 6th rotation around the sun, her birthday...I had to find more pink frilly-ness for my beloved girl. My dear friend Stephanie and her almost 4 month old, Aidan, met me after I scored the perfect leotard that Isabel will have to go to gymnastics in, just to show off. My Stephanie presented me with a letter and a gift. I can´t tell you how much I miss hand written notes since I have no address. (I will get a U.S. address if everyone would send me two hand written notes a month. Okay I´m begging you, please send me mail, I´ll send you mail too. I miss the surprises of a mail box!)

Sorry to digress, Stephanie gave me a lovely letter thanking me for my presence in her life and at Aidan´s birth. What an amazing experience to hold my friend´s hand during birth. She held onto grace chanting "lovelovelovelovelove..." and style holding onto the birthing rope, and cursed like a sailor! I love her all the more for sharing those moments with me. Today, we were sitting down to eat carnita tortas, I am in tears from reading her beautiful letter and I open the groovy little gift bag. Inside are the most fabulous earrings of the mother of all mothers. Guadalupe. In crystal. Redesigned by our friend Lucia. Oh, the circle of women I live in, you are wonderful and amazing. Thank you for the message of love, I needed it and I am more than grateful for your presence in my life. Stephanie´s words and the lovely gift gave me all the strength to go on through the afternoon.

Holy shazzam, what an afternoon it was. I shelled out A LOT of pesos, for customs charges on our Land Rover parts from th U.S., which were still not in San Miguel at 3:30 Tuesday afternoon...the parts were supposed to arrive Friday afternoon, ah, the famous Mexican Aduanas. To wait it out we splurged on 2 for 1 crappy Domino´s pizza, this meanss I don´t have to make lunch tomorrow, hooray,(and it´s not fat-free and gross Elliott)! After pizza, we headed to Parque Juarez to play.

Parque Juarez is an adventure in itself, you never know when there will be a gaping hole in a structure or holes in the fiberglass slides which leave itchy legs. I managed to sit down for about 15 minutes before the first incident, Sebastian fell on his head trying to hang upside down. Fifteen minutes later, Roarke falls on his face from the exact same activity that made Sebastian fall and 2 minutes later Isabel scrapes her ankles hanging upside down, same activity that caused the other two injuries. Great, no one obviously pays enough attention to learn a lesson, why do I come out in public? I give my three children advice to learn from mistakes of others as well as their own and think the worst is over, except that gapping hole in the platform 9 feet above ground. Well, live and learn.

Settling in to talk with the great-grandfather of a kid Sebastian went to school with, suddenly I hear Roarke shrieking "MOMMY!!!" When you hear that you run, fast!
At the other side of the playground, my 3 year old has put his head between two bars and is stuck, WTF?! I have no choice but to hop onto the platform and try to help him as a Mexican woman is trying to talk him out of his tree, without success. Can I do anything but laugh at this point? These people do not know Roarke the way I do and this is so apropos but also unexpected, he would be the first one of my brood to figure out how to fix his problem.

Not so today! Suddenly out of nowhere, three men arrive to help me and my guerito out of this predicament. They tried prying the bars apart but finally they discover we can slide his body through sideways and he´s out. Just as quickly as the men came, they disappeared. Surely, I looked like a madwoman shaking my head and chuckling while Roarke is in tears and sobbing on my shoulder. Meanwhile, Isabel and Sebstian have run off TO PLAY. Can you believe that, leave your mother and baby brother in a potential crisis moment? Even though your skills at translation may be needed! How did I rear such selfish humans? Damn, I really have to learn the subtle nuances of the language better. How do you ask a person to cut the bars off your child´s head in Spanish anyway?

The last incident at Parque Jaurez was Sebastian banging his knee coming down the 9 foot fire pole. While his knee was badly bruised it didn´t require an emergency room visit for a broken leg, thank goodness. At this point, I´m done with the park outing! I just want my blasted car parts so I can go back to the country where we only have to deal with ant bites and espinas in the feet, city living is for the caged birds and that does not include my children (or me)! Also, I can see the circuitous route this is taking, injury line-up that is...Sebastian, Roarke, Isabel,Roarke, Sebastian...enough is enough, Donna Summers and I agree. We go get our ridiculously expensive package of Rush order car parts, 3 days late but here, and call it a day.

On our way home, Roarke fell asleep, Isabel too, all I could do was laugh. Laugh at the crowd that gathered to be a witness to Roarke´s illogical actions, the ease of getting him out when you have help and the looks on peoples faces...like, is your son retarded? No, he just likes to push things to the limit...ummm, scratch that, beyond the limit. I have to continually think outside of the box to accomodate this one soul on this earth. Somedays Roarke you are so frustrating I don´t know how to respond but today I have received bushels full of laughs from your antics.

Roarke did wake up later, drat! While dreaming, he became upset about his head getting stuck. Trying to calm him I said "There were three men that helped you though, they helped you get out." My stubborn, burro, of a son screamed at me: "NO!, I did it BY MYSELF!" Ungrateful, that was all I could think. Now I wonder if there isn´t a bit of self-survival and foreshadowing in that statement. Next time he sticks his head through the bars he´ll remember how to get out, by himself!

Motherhood becomes a blur all to often. I am oh...so grateful to Roarke for showing me today the ways we fail, and the ways we get up and keep moving in this life. To take chances seems so easy at three when you have an enormous safety net, at 38 taking chances and falling down seems insurmountable. We have to take chances at any age though, we have to keep falling down, moving foward and laughing. To give it all is what makes life worth living.

Los Faroles

 



Roarke, Sebastian and Isabel´s lanterns (faroles) in that order. It was a lovely walk, I wish you all could have been there.
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Friday, November 7, 2008

Caminata de Faroles


As far as we can discern, the sole purpose for existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of being.
- Carl Gustav Jung


November 11 is San Martin´s day, a most beautiful festival weekend here. There will be men and boys riding horses passing through San Miguel, processions of pilgrims that can be miles long. The United Sates, or Indiana at least, never offered visions of pilgrims. Pilgrims of debauchery perhaps, going to the Indy 500. My soul however needs the complex beauty of men riding horses, honoring San Martin, marching towards their Lord and chosen patron saint. Children weaving their way through the darkness with lanterns, singing songs of San Martin

San Martin´s story: Martin was from a long line of soldiers, going into the business of marching towards war at the age of 15. His story takes off at the age of 18 when he´s out soldiering and sees a beggar in need of clothes, Martin felt compelled to rip his cloak in half to share some warmth with this poor soul. Martin dreams that night the beggar was really Jesus referred to Martin is the unbaptized Roman soldier that has now clothed him. Martin chooses to be baptized, pagan no more. For two more years Martin continues his life as the now baptized Roman soldier...one day he says; "Enough! I am a soldier for Christ, I can no longer fight." Religion over duty didn´t work so well for the Roman Army, they threw Martin in jail. While he is in jail Martin offers to go into the melée unarmed, the Army liked that idea, one less loco religious dude hanging around. Luckily for Martin and us, the invaders concede to peace! Martin is spared with an honorable discharge, official walking papers to live a life devoted to God.

There is the story of how San Martin chose to walk in the light. It´s hard to renounce what you know, be persecuted and still say "What I have known is wrong, what I have done is wrong but I can move foward and make a much better go of it today." Sure, St. Martin has other fantastical stories associated with him but I love this one story of simplicity. Of a radical conversion in his life that caused him to change. Martin´s journey took about 5 years, change rarely seizes us one night and wham-o, I am a new improved better human being. Change is the gradual shifts of the heart that happen everyday, I talk about those often, but rarely do I see a "New! Improved! Digitally Enhanced! Better!" me instantly. Growing up in a culture of instant gratification, I want those changes, NOW, thank you very much! But we must wait, I ask my children for patience daily. Why is it so difficult for me to wait for the savory gifts in this life?

Each year the children and maestros of Los Charcos have their Caminata de Faroles. For this festival, the school chooses a cause to donate to in honor of San Martin. Last year we brought donations for the state of Tabasco, suffering from the mud-slides and hurricanes. This year the community will focus on the orphans from the girls orphnage, Santa Julia, specifically, two scholarships to Los Charcos. The two candidates deserve the right to a wholistic education, they have lived through trauma...the girls have no family to provide for them, that is trauma enough. My mother heart aches for all of the girls in Santa Julia, all of them deserve the love and support a community can bring, especially one like Los Charcos. I know the capacity for love in this Waldorf school, it is immense and all children have a right to receive this. Not just my children because I can afford to pay tuition.

Parque Juarez, in San Miguel de Allende, this Sunday November 9, 2008, will be illuminated by children from pre-school to junior high, carrying lanterns, walking slowly, singing songs. The children I think are unaware of how beautiful this sight is, a generous moment for all adults present. Last year I could not stop the constant stream of tears down my face. No tears of sadness, only joy and pure love for every child in the procession. Festival de San Martin is the lantern for my soul, watching the children that shape our future...walking, giving, loving in communion.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

What a Week

With Richard´s return this week, and only for one week boo-hoo, I have discovered...I don´t need acupuncture. What I need is the support of my husband, just to hear his voice not through my Verizon wireless cell phone. I am listening to hims read from a dictionary (it was Sebastian´s night to choose a story, what can I say he takes after me) to the kids. There is tranquility, there is harmony, Monday night I even saw two shooting stars while standing outside with only my husband. A week of the small gifts that I appreciate after his long absence from home. Saturday Richard will go back to Houston, back to work, back to what really is a struggle right now. Maybe I´ll go back to acupuncture but it won´t work, my soul needs Richard and my life is painful without him, right here live and in person. Richard, you tell me I am strong but I´m only half as strong without you here.