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.
Showing posts with label Mothers Abroad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mothers Abroad. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Fortitude
We live out in the country, about 10 minutes from town which means I do a fair amount of driving: getting kids to and from school, picking up Martha (our personal saint that just happens to keep our home organized and clean!) and all the errands to do in a day. In my daily comings and goings there is a woman that is also going about her day on foot with her children. This other mother is a tiny Mexican woman, you can see the Indian influence in her face, there are no Spanish features about her, she is short, dark, with jet black hair and has the most beautiful cheekbones. Generally she is carrying her baby in her rebozo, holding the hand of a 2 or 3 year old, while her other three chidren are older and walk on their own.
This is where I see her walking with her children: To school, about 1 kilometer away but on narrow dirt and cobblestone roads with a fair amount of traffic. To get water from a local pump, she crarries two 5 gallon buckets, attached to a limb, across her back full of water, I would say that is about 50 kilos, or around 100 pounds (her son also takes the wheelbarrow and pushes 100 pounds of water, he looks to be around 10). To wash the family clothes in the nearby alfalfa field. Her oldest daughter carries the wash tub, the second daughter tends to the toddler, the 10 year old boy pushes the wheelbarrow with the clothes and the baby in it and she carries more clothes in her two 5 pound bucket yoke. I've watched them all go into the field and help their mother wash their clothes by hand or tend to the little ones making sure they stay out of the road.
One day the family was in their usual laundry spot which faces another field, it is wide open to the western sky and the Sierra de Guanajuato Mountain range. There was a particularly beautiful sunset that night and the oldest daughter was facing west, transfixed by a moment. Disclaimer: I don't profess to be a shaman! But suddenly everything in this young girls life opened to me as I watched her, she was absorbed in the last embers of the day and looked so fiercely fragile, like she was longing to jump into the sky over those far away mountains. The way she looked at her landscape seemed to fill her with hope and this crazy otherworldly glow was all around her head. When I drove by I said outloud to myself "I have just seen her hopes and fears and the solace that she seeks". This was a rare moment, I was driving completely alone and going very slow so I could savor quiet moments and what a gift I received in those precious few moments. When I see her now I want to weep because she represents to me the proverbial flower in a hailstorm, something so beautiful but with such fortitude she cannot, willnot let herself be destroyed by what is ugly in this life.
More often though I see her mother, walking, walking, walking, always in the opposite direction of which I am going, which adds to the juxtaposition of our lives. I can tell you her entire wardrobe; 1 black skirt, 1 khaki skirt, 1 white blouse, 1 tan blouse, 1 red sweater, 1 black rebozo, 1 pair of dusty black shoes. Her legs are always dusty from the walking, her hair a bit disheveled. Her expression is never one of joy, sorrow or anger, she looks indifferent to the world, this world simply is, nothing more or less. When I drive by this Mexican mother I feel so guilty in my life of relative priviledge, guilty for the fears I have, shame for every time I speak harsh words to my children or refuse to take three children somewhere by myself, because it's a hassel. Everyday this other mother walks the road with her children and her children recognize they have to work with their mother, they cannot survive without each other.
Please don't think I am romanticizing their life, it must be hard beyond my belief. I am trying to understand why this is still how the majority of the world lives, it's real, it's in my face and I cannot stop thinking about this family. The world I inhabit has running water, washing machines, maids, concrete floors, cars to drive, I feel like her evil twin when I drive by. We are polar opposites and I wonder, if I am faced with her level of poverty could I even stand up in a day and walk half of the miles she can with such grace?
This is where I see her walking with her children: To school, about 1 kilometer away but on narrow dirt and cobblestone roads with a fair amount of traffic. To get water from a local pump, she crarries two 5 gallon buckets, attached to a limb, across her back full of water, I would say that is about 50 kilos, or around 100 pounds (her son also takes the wheelbarrow and pushes 100 pounds of water, he looks to be around 10). To wash the family clothes in the nearby alfalfa field. Her oldest daughter carries the wash tub, the second daughter tends to the toddler, the 10 year old boy pushes the wheelbarrow with the clothes and the baby in it and she carries more clothes in her two 5 pound bucket yoke. I've watched them all go into the field and help their mother wash their clothes by hand or tend to the little ones making sure they stay out of the road.
One day the family was in their usual laundry spot which faces another field, it is wide open to the western sky and the Sierra de Guanajuato Mountain range. There was a particularly beautiful sunset that night and the oldest daughter was facing west, transfixed by a moment. Disclaimer: I don't profess to be a shaman! But suddenly everything in this young girls life opened to me as I watched her, she was absorbed in the last embers of the day and looked so fiercely fragile, like she was longing to jump into the sky over those far away mountains. The way she looked at her landscape seemed to fill her with hope and this crazy otherworldly glow was all around her head. When I drove by I said outloud to myself "I have just seen her hopes and fears and the solace that she seeks". This was a rare moment, I was driving completely alone and going very slow so I could savor quiet moments and what a gift I received in those precious few moments. When I see her now I want to weep because she represents to me the proverbial flower in a hailstorm, something so beautiful but with such fortitude she cannot, willnot let herself be destroyed by what is ugly in this life.
More often though I see her mother, walking, walking, walking, always in the opposite direction of which I am going, which adds to the juxtaposition of our lives. I can tell you her entire wardrobe; 1 black skirt, 1 khaki skirt, 1 white blouse, 1 tan blouse, 1 red sweater, 1 black rebozo, 1 pair of dusty black shoes. Her legs are always dusty from the walking, her hair a bit disheveled. Her expression is never one of joy, sorrow or anger, she looks indifferent to the world, this world simply is, nothing more or less. When I drive by this Mexican mother I feel so guilty in my life of relative priviledge, guilty for the fears I have, shame for every time I speak harsh words to my children or refuse to take three children somewhere by myself, because it's a hassel. Everyday this other mother walks the road with her children and her children recognize they have to work with their mother, they cannot survive without each other.
Please don't think I am romanticizing their life, it must be hard beyond my belief. I am trying to understand why this is still how the majority of the world lives, it's real, it's in my face and I cannot stop thinking about this family. The world I inhabit has running water, washing machines, maids, concrete floors, cars to drive, I feel like her evil twin when I drive by. We are polar opposites and I wonder, if I am faced with her level of poverty could I even stand up in a day and walk half of the miles she can with such grace?
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Our Two Year Anniversary
The end of August marks the two year anniversary for the Cloyd-Annarino´s in Mexico. I remember telling friends and family we were moving here for one year, usually people asked "why?". (But not in a hey, how great, why? More like why on earth would you want to do that? why.) So I crafted a two part answer; a.) to become bi-lingual, especially the kids b.) why not? Life is a short adventure in itself, why not stretch the boundaries of where you think you belong?
And then we drove down to Mexico. I have to fess up to shopping at Wal-Mart in the next town over our first weekend here. I was aghast $65 pesos (about 5.50 USD at the time) for a 2-pack of Bounty paper towels, no quinoa, no yummy Trader Joe´s sauces, ice cream made with vegetable oil (gross!). Culture shock set in, how to make my family comfortable without what I deemed creature comforts. Well, of course that is part of the experience, I knew it would be coming, but in the midst of culture shock there can be a feeling of extreme immobility. The ability to make simple choices seemed an enormous undertaking, simple tasks were daunting. Just turning on my stove to cook was a chore, because the stove didn´t just turn on, you had to light it. Now this is no big deal to me, it was a dumb thing to even get my panties in a bunch over, but I did, that is how freaked out I was.
The hardest part of all was leaving friends and family behind, but i thought optimistically "family will want to visit" and as far as friends...Nimrods had been in Lincoln for one year at that point and Duffýs were moving to Shelbyville. Our luxurious days of laughing kids, messy homes, coffee, yummy baked goods and hours of intelligent, quality conversation were dear memories. There were many more friends left behind but My Shannon Ave was a wave that had reached it´s shore, time to find a new wave. About 2 months after living here the illnesses set in: typhoid, samonella, parasites galore...ugh, the bodily fluids we experienced during our first six months, I don´t wish it upon anyone in this world, except G.W. Bush, so he may know how the majority of the world population lives. The constant train of illness at our door made me thankful we had money to pay for healthcare, people die from the things we had, especially children. Thankfully ours did not.
In the first six months in Mexico I did whine so much "I just want to go home". So when did the shift occur for me? I can´t remember when it was, it was a gradual shift in my heart, a subtle taking over. Maybe it was six months free of any illnesses, maybe moving to the counrty where the patio walls were gone and so were the million curious Mexican kids peeping in our kitchen window, all day, every day. Perhaps it was the day Bash used the verb "tomar" perfectly when speaking with Martha and suddenly he knew more Spanish than me. The million little pieces filled into my heart, filled it up and made me love the place where I was, for the second time in my life.
I don´t whine, as much anyway, about the "limitations" I used to experience. Now they aren´t limitations, just the way things are. There is no Target, no Value Village, no Trader Joe´s...I can live through my longing to visit those places regularly. My friendship support network is expanding, I´ll never be able to duplicate the simple beauties of Shannon Ave., that was a rare intersection of wonderfulness. Mexico offers a different intersection if wonderfulness and I am wrapping myself in the sweetness of this experience.
Many times people have called me "brave" but I wanted you to all know, I don´t have any special brand of bravery, indeed I´m a bit of a chicken heart. What I have is an urge to be in the world, to understand a day in the life of someone else, a desire for adventure that changes your heart and your view of the world. Call me naïve but I still give merit to the impact one person can have on the whole world, for the better. A person doesn´t need to leave their town, their country, to do all these things but I had to, I had to prove to myself that maybe there really is a layer of bravery in my bones. I think I finally approve of me, on my merits, my actions and I´m looking foward to our changes during this next year.
And then we drove down to Mexico. I have to fess up to shopping at Wal-Mart in the next town over our first weekend here. I was aghast $65 pesos (about 5.50 USD at the time) for a 2-pack of Bounty paper towels, no quinoa, no yummy Trader Joe´s sauces, ice cream made with vegetable oil (gross!). Culture shock set in, how to make my family comfortable without what I deemed creature comforts. Well, of course that is part of the experience, I knew it would be coming, but in the midst of culture shock there can be a feeling of extreme immobility. The ability to make simple choices seemed an enormous undertaking, simple tasks were daunting. Just turning on my stove to cook was a chore, because the stove didn´t just turn on, you had to light it. Now this is no big deal to me, it was a dumb thing to even get my panties in a bunch over, but I did, that is how freaked out I was.
The hardest part of all was leaving friends and family behind, but i thought optimistically "family will want to visit" and as far as friends...Nimrods had been in Lincoln for one year at that point and Duffýs were moving to Shelbyville. Our luxurious days of laughing kids, messy homes, coffee, yummy baked goods and hours of intelligent, quality conversation were dear memories. There were many more friends left behind but My Shannon Ave was a wave that had reached it´s shore, time to find a new wave. About 2 months after living here the illnesses set in: typhoid, samonella, parasites galore...ugh, the bodily fluids we experienced during our first six months, I don´t wish it upon anyone in this world, except G.W. Bush, so he may know how the majority of the world population lives. The constant train of illness at our door made me thankful we had money to pay for healthcare, people die from the things we had, especially children. Thankfully ours did not.
In the first six months in Mexico I did whine so much "I just want to go home". So when did the shift occur for me? I can´t remember when it was, it was a gradual shift in my heart, a subtle taking over. Maybe it was six months free of any illnesses, maybe moving to the counrty where the patio walls were gone and so were the million curious Mexican kids peeping in our kitchen window, all day, every day. Perhaps it was the day Bash used the verb "tomar" perfectly when speaking with Martha and suddenly he knew more Spanish than me. The million little pieces filled into my heart, filled it up and made me love the place where I was, for the second time in my life.
I don´t whine, as much anyway, about the "limitations" I used to experience. Now they aren´t limitations, just the way things are. There is no Target, no Value Village, no Trader Joe´s...I can live through my longing to visit those places regularly. My friendship support network is expanding, I´ll never be able to duplicate the simple beauties of Shannon Ave., that was a rare intersection of wonderfulness. Mexico offers a different intersection if wonderfulness and I am wrapping myself in the sweetness of this experience.
Many times people have called me "brave" but I wanted you to all know, I don´t have any special brand of bravery, indeed I´m a bit of a chicken heart. What I have is an urge to be in the world, to understand a day in the life of someone else, a desire for adventure that changes your heart and your view of the world. Call me naïve but I still give merit to the impact one person can have on the whole world, for the better. A person doesn´t need to leave their town, their country, to do all these things but I had to, I had to prove to myself that maybe there really is a layer of bravery in my bones. I think I finally approve of me, on my merits, my actions and I´m looking foward to our changes during this next year.
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