Letting Go

There are some things in this life you want so badly you can only focus on that. It´s really a devil may care vision. There becomes an obsession with staying put and only focusing on that one thing. We forget to look at what we really need, what others around us need. We forget that one day we won´t drive on this road again, because life is always changing, it´s best look at what is around you.

Lately I've had many revelations about what my family needs. My conclusion is that we cannot be a family with the absence of 1/5 of our family. For me, Sebastian, Isabel and Roarke, it is only 1/5. For Richard, his heart is missing 4/5´s, he is empty and we cannot let him continue like this. This week I have not been able to get the idea of a radical change of heart (courtesy of Betty, look her up on the left side)and what that means for me. Here is how my heart is changing:

Part of me wants to remain in this lovely town, with the community I have grown in to. This geographical place where I have started to learn, finally, to be here now. But my committment to my family, my husband, tells me it´s time to let go. Families can live apart, sometimes we need to, somedays we wish to. My family, we five people that make this life complete, we need to be together. My heart is changing radicallly, I am letting go of my most wanted desire. Life in Mexico.

Funny just a few weeks ago, I commented on how dreams come true. They still do. When the dream comes true...then what? When dreams come true is it ephemeral or something that lasts forever? And so your dream came true...what about others hopes, dreams, expectations and fears? I cannot stop myself from exiting what I want and realizing what we all need. What this family of 5 humans needs; love, to be listened to, kisses, hugs, wonder and each other. Good gracious, it really does seem old fashioned and cliché and how flipping simple can we get? What I dream of more than geographical places and bi-lingual children is children and adults without metaphorical broken hearts from sadness and a disconnected life.

So it looks like I am giving up pura vida en Mexíco and I am so sad for that loss. However, if you know me at all, you know I have to list the gains (because they are wildly magnificent!). First and foremost the Reina de Mexíco, Guadalupe. Never in all my years of going to church, studying notions of religiousity, spiritual seeking...did I find something to connect to like Her. My life, wardrobe and accessories will always be grateful for my introduction to the Mother of all mothers. Sebastian and Isabel are bi-lingual, let´s hope they remember this. Sunny days for nearly two consecutive years, you´d have to be completely self-involved to have missed that. This next statement may be self-involved but here goes...the courage to step outside of your box.

For two years I have struggled with stepping outside of life as I had known it for 36years. On my journey into motherhood, beyond the phase of marriage that went like: "We have no kids, we have 2 incomes, we´re so groovy, we can do anything we imagine"... I forgot to believe in the capacity to have radical changes of heart to change your life. Richard asked me to take a leap, I did even though I was afraid and I have loved this experience but not every moment (especially typhoid). I have not forgotten to pay attention, well some of the time I´ve paid attention. What we are living is life, I have no special brand of bravery, this is what others have coined "ordinary courage"...yep, this is my life.

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.

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.

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?

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.

nanny needed

well, this is my story for today. since R will be traveling to the states soon we both decided mama needs a nanny. living in mexico affords a bit of luxury in having domestic help available, and yes, i do realize this is a luxury which is why i used the word. so, in our naivetee, we posted this to the "civil list" in our town. a couple of women were helpful but there was one man that was well.... a
jackass, a burro, a rude human being. i was accused of looking for slave labor when my question was put out to people to help me with nanny protocol. i was accused of slave labor because i wanted a young woman to help me with my 3 children ages 7, 5 and 3 and just wondering could i ask her to cook and do light cleaning.

so, i said to myself WTF!!!??? i calculated the hours i have put in rearing 3 children and i rounded it down to 17,855 hours, i left off 4 months worth of work. work that i have not received any monetary compensation for, no insurance, and definitely no stock options. instead of what CEO's seek, i seek kisses and heartbreakingly gorgeous moments as my payment. when other mothers ask what do i do? i say i rear my children and i get the response "oh, so you just stay at home with your kids?" yes, i JUST do. i watch those children make discoveries, about themselves, the world they live in and the worlds they can only imagine. that is what i do and from those working moments i discover beautiful things about the world and the people that live in this world and my heart grows and says this world will be okay because i have given all of myself. i give all of myself because i love every microscopic piece of those 3 beautiful children that i gave life to. and i expect those 3 beautiful beings to give every bit of themselves to this place, this earth, this moment, without regret or doubt.

however, let us be realistic, nearly 18,000 hours of constant work makes a person tired, especially this mama. so i asked for help with a nanny.

what world is this when people can make a rash judgement of your character from a request for help? would that same person be critical of me if i ended up like the woman in texas that drowned her 5 children? i am betting that he would judge me either way, knowing this i had to respond. i told this man, that has never met me about the fierce beauty of my children, their uncompromising natures, their displays of gorgeous technicolor love. of what it is like to raise children now, to instill in those sweet minds the need to change the world, to tell them "you, you and you...you are what will make a difference to this world because i have loved and cared for you and it is our responsibility out of love to care for other mothers children all over the world!"
and yet, he thinks i want a slave. what a slap in the face. and this in the week that leads up to mother's day, which was a call to change by women. change the world with your children.

becoming a mother on christmas morning of 2000 was the greatest gift, the hardest gift received in one small skinny bundle. my first born son changed the woman i was and i became the woman i am. of all the things i want in this life...good god, and yes i have to say god is good, slave labor would be the furthest from my agenda. i am offended but most of all i am sad because this sort of labeling, these presumptions will face my children. accusations stick likes barbs in the skin and resentment of others begins to well up. if i can't ask for a few suggestions from a "civil list" where the hell in this life can i get the support i need to feel community. what will my children do when faced with this dilemma?