Mami : An American Story

In Ecuador on October 17, 1932 a baby girl was born to a young fifteen year old Ecuadorian girl and a nineteen year old Peruvian young man.  Her father's roots were said to be in Spain and her mother's family had been in Ecuador for as long as she could remember.  That baby girl was my mother.

Growing up she had several moments when her paternal grandmother would take her to visit and would take her to see Shirley Temple movies.  My Mami was consumed with everything that she saw on the screen about America.  She asked for a doll from her grandmother and the one that was purchased for her was a white doll with curly blonde hair and blue eyes.  It had been imported from America and it was one of her most cherished possessions as a child. She wanted to be Shirley Temple and wanted to see all the wonderful places in the movie.  Her dreams were to one day be taken to America to visit as promised by her paternal grandmother.  That however was never to be fulfilled. 

Life as it does always came to give her a dose of reality.  Her father left for Peru and her father's family followed shortly, to never be seen again by that impressionable little girl.  From what I remember she always had a sense of sadness when she would tell me about never hearing from them again. Following soon after, at the very tender age of 12 it took a dramatic turn, her mother died. Then it was revealed that the woman who had been raising her was not her mother, but her grandmother and that her sister was actually her mother. She went to live with her mother and she was not happy and became rather rebellious in her teen years.  

At seventeen she left home to live with a much older man who made her promises to take her to the United States at one point.  Shortly after leaving she became pregnant with her first child and named him after the first president of the United States , Washington.  She could not wait to one day be taken to the United States, to be a part of a country where her  rebellious nature in Ecuador would be seen that of an independent woman with a lot to contribute in the U.S.  Unfortunately her dreams were side tracked once again.  Living with someone older and the adult responsibilities were too much for her.  She lived unconventionally after that scraping money to get by, giving birth to two daughters afterward.  Again her love of  America was showing in the names of her daughters. American names by all accounts, Jenny and Jacquelyn.  Jacquelyn, the name of her favorite American president's wife. She told me she cried heavily when President Kennedy died.

One day in 1967, that little girl was given the opportunity to go to the United States on a visitor's visa.  Her half sister on her father's side told her she could stay with her in Los Angeles and find her some work.  She sold all her belongings, packed up her daughter Jacquelyn, said goodbye to her family, to the only country she had ever known. Her dream of coming to America came true.  

Being in America was rough, my mom understood that she was there on a visitor visa but there was no way she was ever leaving the one place she had dreamt of being since she was a child.  Not even the day that she was told that she was getting sent back to Ecuador for working under a visitor's visa. Desperate measures called for desperate times. Her and my sister went in hiding in different homes of people who she worked along side with at the factory.  These Mexican-American women, who later on in life would become my adopted family, shielded my Mami and sister to help keep that dream alive of being in a country of opportunity for them.  One of my adopted aunts introduced my mom to a man who was handsome, witty, made her laugh, and offered her the opportunity to stay in America.  He married her to help her and my sister out to be able to stay in this country.  I was born a year and a half after they were married. 

In the years that followed my Mami taught me the importance of all the opportunities I had in this country, especially being a female.  Women in her country were told they could not be a certain way or have a voice because of culture that did not believe women could offer more.  She taught me the importance of making it to the voting booth.  She would sit me in front of the television every presidential election night and would cheer like it was a soccer game for her favorite candidate.  She was the one who taught me about American government, about how president gets voted by the electoral college.  When my dad died she was even more determined to be a part of the country.  She wanted to be more than the wife of an American, she wanted to BE and American.  I still remember helping her as a teen practicing all the questions for the citizenship test.  She aced it and on April 4, 1986 my mom was sworn in as a citizen and she was an American, like she had always in her heart known she was. 

To me, my Mami IS America.  The dream of something bigger, better, and more fruitful.  So what if her English was a bit broken. So what if her last name was not Smith or Jones.  So what if she did not resemble Barbie with her dark hair and brown eyes.  She is the girl who would not miss an American movie, the teen who dreamt to make a difference with her voice, the one who loved this country with all her heart that she gave up her country of origin to be able to vote for HER president. 

I want thank her for this journey of hers, for her dream to be in this country I call home. 

Thank you for dragging me to register to vote and for talking to me about politics.  Your grandchildren have a good base to be the best Americans they can be.

Lessons from the original Superman

Father's day is always a fickle time for me.  Today marks 30 years since the last Father's day I spent with Sarge.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was the first time I was able to "purchase" a father's day breakfast for him.  McDonald's had a promotion that year if you colored a sheet that was provided by them and took it in for Father's day, your dad would get a free breakfast.  I didn't know it, but that would be the last time I would spend a Father's day with my dad.  Five months later, just 2 months shy of my 13th birthday, he was gone. 

I have been without him longer than he was with me. Still he has been a powerful influence in my life. His words and actions have permeated me for the remaining years I have been without him. His words float over my head in everything I do and say to others.  Today as in everyday I honor the Superman he was to me. 

Little lessons he left me with:

• Love thy neighbor - Sarge was the neighborhood guy.  Someone needed a tool, he would be the guy to come and borrow one from.  If your car broke down in the middle of a delluge of rain, he was the person you called. Not only would he give you a ride but  he would try to fix that car or get you the help you needed.  The day of his funeral I met so many people that were touched by all the things I never knew he did.  He was a giving person who loved humanity.  No one was ever more or less than him, we were all of the human kind and we should all help each other in this world. So when I lose my patience in Los Angeles traffic I remember, we are all human and we all need to look out for one another. 
• Appreciate the simple things - Music was always blaring on any given day at our home.  Sarge would play anything from classical music, swing, to Mariachis.  He would sing to his heart content without abandonment, even though his voice was that of nails on a chalkboard.  Simple outings were the catalyst to "great adventures" as he would call it.  So it was no surprise I was excited when he took me to the city of Corona for an adventure to seek out a great doughnut. Who cares if it just a few miles from our city, it was somewhere new we had never been.  It was his appreciation of the simple joy in life that has gotten me through some rough times.  Seeking out that hole in the wall cafe and people watching has brought me to a calm place where I could think things through.  Listening to a favorite song can take me back in time to a wonderful place when things were calm and fun.
• Laugh at yourself -  Sarge was the original dork. Never afraid to make a fool of himself and laugh along the way.  He made sure I never took myself or life to seriously.  I would get in funks as a child and some how he always managed to make me laugh at his antics.  He would point out the great humor in things, even if it was the crappiest day ever.  So now, I manage to look at life and see the humor in things.  It makes me smile and I can be the same goofball my dad was to me with my children and see the smile I had as a child being reflected back at me through the kids.
• Never forget your history - I never knew my grandparents, they were gone before I was born but I definitely knew about them.  Sarge never failed to take me on his lap to tell me of things when he was growing up, about how his family life was with his parents.  He took me to Mexico to meet my extended family to develop a relationship with those who carried our history. He wanted me to grow up proud of how far our family has come and how far I could take the rest of our history.  One of the major reasons I blog about my children and myself is to carry on that rich tradition.  Much is to be said about storytelling.  You never know what lessons you are learning from your own rich family history.  
• Get up and succeed - He picked me off the floor after I fell off a bike, cleaned up my scrape and placed me back on the bike I had just fallen off.  Giving up was not an option.  I was crying my eyes out and wanting to give up, but Sarge encouraged me.  Every step of the way he was there to cheer me on.  Little successes where HUGE accomplishments. He made sure I understood that no matter if I had an audience or not. I was the master of my own pride with all those accomplishements.  So when I was able to do the major things in life like graduate from college or simply help potty train a two year old I could stand with pride and never give up.

There are so many more that I can list but these in particular have helped me get through the good, the bad, and ugly that life has out there.  All he did for me in the short 12 years of my life has stayed with me.  It's not about time that you spend with your children, it's what you do in whatever time you have with them. 

For the men who create those strong bonds with their children I salute you.  You never know what your teaching your little ones and what life lessons they are learning along the way. 

Feliz dia del padre Papi.  Te extrano muchismo! <3>

The Original Super Single Mom

Life lately has been tough.  Something I did not think I would be doing is raising children on my own.  While there father is a participant in their lives, it really is not like I can say I have a partner in raising these children.  I find myself giving 99.999999% of what should really be a shared experience. I have wrestled a very long time with this fact.  I attribute this to my own childhood.  Sarge was always a very active participant father and most loving partner in my childhood.  I was truly blessed to have two parents in the early part of my life. Lately my lovely insomnia has hit me at 3 AM.  Somewhere in my mind something was stirring, maybe the fact that some days I feel stretched over two times over, worried about Kindergarten progress, summer vacation plans, how to effectively get help for getting the kids around.  I have felt pretty alone and overwhelmed lately.  Then it hit me the other day.  I am not the only one this has happened to.

October 9, 1983 Mami became a single mother and a widow.  I remember sitting next to her holding my hand just outside the IC unit that my father was in when a nurse came out to call someone else in the hallway.  This moment is burned in my memory only because the nurse had blood, my fathers blood all on the front of her crisp white scrubs.  Mami pulled me in close and tried to shield my fragile 12 year old eyes from seeing what I was seeing.  In her arms I shook with fear.  We both held each other for what seemed like a very long time until the doctor came out and said my father was gone.  Our world as we knew it was gone. 

I still remember listening to Mami cry night after night after he was gone.  Somehow in the mornings all that was gone and she got breakfast on the table and me out the door to school.  While I was at school she managed to arrange for a funeral, my care after school, and make other arrangements for our future. Mami became my advocate when people insisted that I wear black to the funeral when she knew all I wanted to do was wear my dad's favorite dress for me.  She didn't know I heard that argument she had, but I did.  I became less alone at that moment.  Mami would always have my best interest at heart.  She knew I was grieving the loss of my best friend.  She made sure the school knew I was going through issues and that I would not be the same child. 

Mami found a way to babysit children at home and get me what I needed.  I needed for someone to home to after school, security.  I always had clean clothes, a roof over my head, vacations, someone to show up at my school events. The most amazing thing to me was that she didn't drive a single day in her life and still doesnt' to this day.  The first vacation we took after my dad was to Florida, on a bus. Yes, a bus from California to Florida.  Years later I wondered, how? How did she come up with the money, how did she make the arrangements, how did she know we were going to be safe on the trip?

I looked back on that recently and knew, just knew that it was the same love I feel for my own children.  For many times that I feel defeated and alone, I remember Mami.  She did this alone, with no family nearby to support her.  Just her will to give me everything I needed and things that I wanted.  The love a mother knows no boundaries.  It does not know about her own grief, but knows about her child's grief.  I am the super single mom today thanks in part to all those experiences that Mami gave me and made it seem effortless.  Her grief, her loneliness, her struggles, all set aside.  So when people question how I do it all for my the Things I just hold my head high and say "I'm Super Mom Jr.". 

On this day I honor you Mami,  you survived my teenage years alone, I too shall make it through.


Happy Mother's day all!

Get up, Stand up...

Today Thing One did the most incredible thing. He stood up for someone that could not stand up for himself.  We were walking to have food at our local McDonald's.  We passed by the front of Target to get to McDonald's and a homeless man crossed our path to get to the popcorn in the trash can and proceeded to eat it. Thing One stopped in his tracks and whispered to me "Mommy he's eating from the trash!?".  I had to explain to him how not everyone has food or money to buy food so they eat where they can.  He asked if we could buy him some food.  I was so proud of him.  We bought the man some food and went about our business.  I couldn't stop thinking of the marvelous thing my little guy had thought to do.

Thing One reminded me that we as humans need to watch out for each others as humans.  It's a golden rule that Sarge had taught me. Unfortunately I couldn't see all the signs while I was growing up.  I say that with a heavy heart.  I faltered another human being at one point in my life.

I was in 5th grade in 1982 and inside I still felt like a big goof.  The dork in me was alive and well and preteens were the pits.  My body was that of a teenager more than a preteen, all kinds of awkward.  At least that is how I recall it.  I was lucky enough to have a father who recognized the signs and told me I was beautiful as I was.  Still, trying to fit in was all I wanted to do.  Subsequently I hung out with other girls I thought were cool and accepted me into their group.  It's a story that rings true for every insecure preteen trying to find there way in a clique or a group of peers.  What I didn't expect was that one girl in particular was a mean girl.

Like I mentioned earlier I had a particularly good support from my family, so her nastiness didn't get to me.  I knew how to defend myself from any little snippy comment.  Mostly I dealt with it out by being humorous. Unfortunately we all couldn't escape her.  There was one girl named Gloria that we had all grown up with.  None of us really befriended her in all the years we had been in school with her.  Gloria lived one street over from where I lived and I saw where she was living.  It was a very un-kept home and the house reflected how everyone in that family where.  Gloria often looked like she hadn't been bathed in some time and her clothing for two days was the same.  I mostly feared her, the unknown of her.  I never really addressed her and let her be.  Unfortunately Gloria met up with mean girl in the same class for 5th grade.  I was in the same class and I hung out with mean girl along with other girls.  Gloria was afraid of mean girl and the Mean girl fed off this fear.

Gloria was often subject of many of Mean girl's cruel jokes.  One day Mean girl threatened Gloria to do something. She forced Gloria to go to the restroom and take off her training bra and when she got back from the bathroom she was to hang it on the classroom door knob. Gloria did it and Mean girl laughed and had everyone in the classroom look at the door.  Laughter broke out.  I couldn't laugh. I smiled nervously, unsure if I should show my true feelings.  Inside I felt so bad for Gloria and the humiliation she was going through. Unfortunately me need to fit in outweighed what empathy I was feeling for Gloria. 

It has been 31 years since that incident and I replay that scenario in my head a lot.  Why didn't I have the courage to stand up for Gloria?  Maybe we wouldn't be best friends, but she needed someone to stand up for her.  I have often thought of how Gloria is doing and if someone had the courage to stand up for her.  I never saw her with a father, just a mother and some siblings.  I never got to know why she looked the way she did.  Her family probably didn't have the resources for food, clothing, or hygiene.  After 6th grade when we all went to different Junior High's I never saw her again.

While I may not have seen her since 6th grade she is forever burned in my memory.  Anytime I see someone being picked on, someone with no support I try to stand up for them.  No one knows their story, no one knows how much their heart hurts.  It takes two minutes of a kind word and gesture to make someone's day.  I see Gloria in every person I try to stand up for her because as a cowardly 5th grader I couldn't. 

I am proud of Thing One, he did it without a thought.  He empathized, he stood up for those that cannot stand up for themselves. He is five years old and wiser than I could have ever been at his age. 

Mama Kat's World Famous Writing Workshop: Randomness...

I am back on the wagon!!! YAY!  I missed Mama Kat's writing prompts every Thursday.  So here it is kids!  This week I choose 5 Random facts about you and your family. (inspired by Nice Girl Notes).  Read on now....

I have been on a writing hiatus for some time now.  Some of it has been by choice, but most of it is because of several personal things that have happened that I will divulge at a later time.  For now let's get reacquainted.  Here are some Random facts about me and my kin:

1. The number five was previously my lucky number.  That is until Thing One's 5th birthday party.  The big fifth birthday party was a hit.  We celebrated Thing One's birthday at Pump it Up, which is a fantastic birthday destination filled with a barrage of blow up jumpers.  I was placing a child in a jumper when my foot slipped and I caught my foot but me knee went when way and I fell the other.  Needless to say I was in a lot of pain and I thought I might have to go see a doctor.  That is of course if Mami hadn't fallen at home when we were unpacking things from the birthday party and had to be rushed by ambulance to the hospital.  I ended up eventually going to the doctor the next day only to find out that I had a partially torn ACL and that I was to stay put and not drive for almost 2 months.  Which also meant I was out of work. I am swearing off an celebrations that have the number 5 involved in them!

2. Thing Two's birthdate was suppose to be on the inaugural date of our first Black President.  Except for the fact that she decided to come six days earlier on the 14th.  I was a little upset that I didn't make it to that day.  I wanted to tell her that she was born on a historical day.  We ended up in the hospital anyway on that day because Thing Two had jaundice and was admitted.  I believe I was pumping breast milk when he was sworn in. Good times!

3. We live for "Pajama, Pancake" Sundays!  There is nothing quite like our Sundays.  Sometimes I make the pancakes and sometime it's drive-thru McDonald's. In our pajamas of course.  However there was that one time I regretted doing the pajamas in drive-thru.  Picture the hottest guy ever and there you are in flannels and your hair up in a horrid ponytail. I would just like to forget that.  Other than that we are completely happy not to have to change into regular clothes.  We watch the Sunday morning cartoons lounge around and get to lunch time and our very loving nap times in the middle of the day.  Normally by the time that is over everyone showers and we go out.  Most times though it's all about the pajama and the pancakes.
   
4. I swear Thing Two is one of the members of the children of the corn. She loves to wander around the house at night when everyone is asleep.  She's been known to be standing by my bed just staring at me sleep.  SCARIEST THING EVER!  One of my friends on facebook suggested that she might have sleep apnea.  I don't know but if she gets a crazy hat, I am letting her spend more time over at her dad's house. *shiver*
   
   
   
   
5.  Thing One is a Star Wars and computer geek.  This is all my fault.  I had put on Spike TV one day when he was 3 years old and they were having a Star Wars marathon.  Then he discovered my VHS tapes. It was all over then.  Plus he really is technologically inclined.  I am okay with it all. As long as when I am at the senior home years from now he can fix my technology. I just hope he doesn't end up like that guy in the picture above. 

There you have it folks!  Five random fact about our family that make us totally unique!

If you want some writing prompts visit this lovely Mama:

The real world starts in Kindergarten.

Do you rember Kindergarten?  Kindergarten meant learning colors and letters, writing your name, helping feed the class pet, going to get the milk from the cafeteria to bring back to class, show and tell, easel painting.  Half way through a day one of your parents came to pick you up to go home and have lunch and you would be sent off to take a nap. The good old days of Kindergarten, I remember those days fondly and often think "If only work was like Kindergarten, I need a snack and a nap right about now".  Well...that is NOT, I repeat NOT the Kindergarten of today.

My dearest Thing One will be completing 100 days of Kindergarten tomorrow.  It's been blood, sweat, and tears for 100 days.  There, I said it.  It is the hardest thing since, well since I went to college! No wait, I enjoyed college. Nothing about Kindergarten is easy.  The kids are in school all day, no naps allowed. NO SIR! No time for napping.  There is numbers to be counted by 100 and done by groups of 10.  There are sentences to be formed and read.  Alphabet...pfffshh if you didn't get it the first two weeks of school you surely were lost.  Frequently used words have replaced phonics.  Just learn it kid.  Get on it or get out.  Did I mention homework?  I don't think I ever saw homework until 4th grade. I feel like I am school too as we sit and go over homework day in and day out.

I feel as overwhelmed as my handsome Thing One.  There was so much for him to learn in the begining.  I am not just talking academically there was the whole social system.  There are not 12 other individuals to deal with, there are 20 plus children in your class plus the teacher and volunteers.  There are also the other kids and teachers from other classrooms that go out to recess with you.  Then there is falling into a routine and finding your way around school. Remembering jackets and lunch bags before going home along with that glorious homework packet.   Did I mention that Thing One had just turned five two days before Kindergarten started?  He also is learning in a Dual language classroom which is more things he needs to learn in a different language than he is use to. 

I have had two parent-teacher conferences with Thing One's teacher and many letters back and forth about my genuine concern about how he is doing in class.  He is my distracted little fellow.  I observed him in class once and it just broke my heart to see him struggle with the language and with paying attention in class.  There is so much that he is dealing with.  I don't know what to make of it.  The teacher in the last conference had some concerns with him.  She confessed to me that he tends to take longer with his work and that other children tease him and make fun of him.  It saddened me to hear that.  No one wants to hear or see there child struggle.  It takes on a geniune pain in your heart like nothing you have ever felt before. It sinks in and you are angry, sad, desperate. 

Today in our daily conversation I asked if he played with his friend Jordan.  He said Jordan was not in school.  So then I asked if he played with anyone else.  The words that came out of his mouth next broke my heart.  "Mommy no one elsewants to play with me.  They say I am different."  I stopped what I was doing and asked him "How does that make you feel?".  His response was a daggar "I get sad Mommy". 

It may be just a phase and it's all a learning process but this whole 100 days of Kindergarten has taken my breath away. I know that I just have to give Thing One more time to learn and pick up the pace.  It is similar to being new on the job.  You just have to keep doing it and eventually all things fall into place.  We have our successful days and then the not so successful days.  There will be people that will not like you and you will always have one good friend.  Life lessons truly start in Kindergarten these day.  I just hope that he knows that no matter what or who he is  I will love him as an individual.


Oh and can I get a gold shiny metal star sticker now???!!!! *sigh*

Dearest Baby Girl...

Dearest Daughter, Baby girl, Thing Two...

I cannot believe you have turned four years old today!  It seems just like yesterday that I stared sitting in disbelief at the home pregnancy test while holding your 8 month old brother.  I was scared and happy all at once. You came during a time when everything in my life was in a big mess. I was still learning to be a mommy to one, my relationship with your daddy was difficult, and your Abi had been told she had breast cancer.

Many times while you were in my belly I cried and broke down from the stress. Your Abi would tell me not to cry and try to think of you and what you were feeling when I was crying. Little did either of us know of the type of person you were. Right you were born you cried for 3 hours. Not of hunger, being wet, or tired, you were mad!  You were not having anything to do with the whole poking and prodding and cleaning.  I knew then that I had a little fighter on my hands.

You have always been that way since before you were born. Fighting against all odds to make yourself known.  When anyone is sad you are the first to ask if everything is okay. Whether it is someone you know or a complete stranger. Your heart is larger than the little body it occupies. You have strong convictions and will stand up for what you think is right and just. It is natural to you. I sometimes have to tame your attacks on what you think is wrong just because some adults are not ready to hear what you have to say. Society is like that, but it doesn't mean I do not believe in your reason to stand up and say something when you see it is wrong.

My little fierce warrior is who you are. In just four years YOU have shown me to never forget your inner being, the person you are at the core. I love you even when you stand your ground and I want to pull my hair out because you have decided that you want to wear your hair in a ponytail and not down. We may not always agree, but I am in awe of how fiercely you defend your rights to do things.  Never lose that part of you my love.

We will always butt heads, it is just what we do. Do know this, I will always love you and I will always be YOUR fiercest defendant.

Thank you for bringing all that and dolls, unicorns, and princess dreams to our lives. We are complete with you in our world. Your brother may not think so right at this moment, but he loves that you will always have his back. Trust me.

Happy fourth birthday baby girl! Lets to have cake.

2012...what a blur.

Digital greeting made with Smilebox

Villians do exist...but so do Super Heros

This Sunday is going to be like any other this summer. In that same breath, it is not. You see this summer has been filled with movies that The Things and I have been looking forward to. Thing One has been looking forward to the movie Batman which was released last night. I woke up as many of you did to the news of what occurred in an Aurora, Colorado movie theatre at the midnight showing of Batman. Listening to all the news as it pours out minute by minute, overwhelms me with feelings. Feelings of anger, fear, and most of all loss. I feel deeply saddened to hear of children being shot most of all.  How does one not fear villains when they come to life?

Many media outlets have spoke  of what this will do for the movie's sales.  Other's speak of movie theatre security and it's future.  It is absolutely ludicrous how an action of one insane man has prompted so much action and dialogue of the simple act of going to see a movie at a theatre.  It is as if the villain has reached more than just those 71 injured.  The epidemic of fear has struck in so many of us.  To that thought I think, but what about those who showed such superb bravery?  Like the police officers that put injured into police cars and drove them to hospitals, rather than wait for an ambulance.

I often think of all those invisible capes we all wear.  We all have the ability to help and be brave and overcome whatever a villain's venom has touched.  So will you go to a theatre?  Will you feel safe?  Those are all questions we ask ourselves now.  I for one will not let one villain ruin yet another little boys dreams.  I will put on that invisible super hero cape, face my fears and hold that little boys hand tightly. 

As in all super hero comics the villain will go down and there will be justice.  Stand tall and brave my friends and let those invisible capes flow proudly.

Daddies are important to daughters

Big Cheese has been less than gracious with me lately, which is not a surprise. This is why I decided not to continue the relationship while Thing Two was a mere 4 weeks old. A few months back Big Cheese was upset with me and it manifested itself in front of the children and in public. It upset me and I did all I could to not cry, to hold my head high and not let his words dig at who I am.  I broke once I got home and while I tried not to have the children witness this moment, Thing Two heard me. She crawled into my bed and asked " Does Daddy not love you? He's grumpy. Don' t cry". My heart broke even further.  What was she learning from him?

I have been without my Daddy for 29 years. I have been without him longer than he was with me. I am filled with gratitude of all he taught me in the small amount of time. Especially those moments he taught me as I observed how he conducted his life.  He was always kind to Mami even when she was less than gracious in the heat of an arguement. He never disrespected her and was always a gentleman. He opened doors, paid bills, took Mami on "breakfast dates" while I was at school. The moments my Daddy thought I wasn't watching, I was.  One particular memory I have is of him leaning over and kissing Mami on the forehead as he held her hand.

It's distinct memory and he taught me how a woman should be treated. How I should be treated. How relationships, no matter what, are always about love and respect. This lesson that did not escape his lips but was manifested in actions, was what gave me the strength to walk away that moment with Big Cheese. It's what made me realize that I was not being treated right in a relationship and that two small eyes were watching.

Fathers are important, especially to their daughters. They are the first male relationship they have. The one that teaches them how to be treated as a woman. So I implore you Fathers out there with daughters, she is watching you and basing what you do to her future relationships. Be kind. Be respectful. Be loving when it gets hard. She' s watching you for clues into her future relationships.

I hope that Big Cheese can see while he doesn't need to love me, he does need to strive to be respectful for both of the Things.

John Mayer gave insight on how relationships are a part of these relationships in the song Daughter. Listen here

How a split second turned into terror.

As parents we all have that internal fear that is played out one too many times on the news. That one moment in which a child is gone. Maybe for a minute, a few moments or forever. You let your child go to the bus stop, or you watch in horror how crossing the road some stranger grabs your child.

I had hoped that I would never encounter such a thing with my babies. Unfortunately it happened.

I had taken Thing One and Two to see Sesame Street Live today. Big crowds are never my favorite, bit one can not live in fear. I took Mali with us to enjoy the show. All was well until the end of the show when I had to pick up&nbsp; Mami's walker at guest services. I had told Mami to stay with the children while I went upstairs to get the walker.
I went up the stairs and waited to get her walker. Took the elevator down and chatted with the elevator attendant on how nice the show was. The doors opened and Mali was standing there asking where the kids were.
Apparently she thought that I had known that the kids were right behind me as I went up the stairs. It had been 10 minutes since I had left. My heart and guts were sick twisted as I looked back on the huge crowd behind me. I must have screamed that very moment, because all of a sudden everyone was looking at me. My babies were lost in a crowd of hundreds. I ran up stairs looking for them in every chiild's face and I could see all the adults feeling my pain and panic.

Security was helping as I ran to find them. Thing two was at guest services. She was calm and collected. The next thought was Where is my boy! My sweet sweet boy. I could hear the security guards asking for a description of him or a picture of him. I couldn't get words out as I shook with panic and fear. Until a man came out of nowhere ans said
"Your daughter is watching you let's breathe and he will be found"

I had to catch my breath and describe what he was wearing, hair and eye color, name. All the things that were crucial at that very moment. Then I heard theo best sound in the world. The cries of Thing One asking for his Mommy. They had found him in the play area of the event crying. I was on my knees crying holding my precious babies, thanking God and the kids guardian Angels that they were returned safely to me.

I haven't let them go yet. They are lying next to me as I type this.

I was lucky and I pray this never happens again. EVER.

Have you ever experienced something scary with your children? How did you react?

I can tell you, this moment was not how I expected Iwould react.

That moment...

Today's blog is inspired by the Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop:

Happy almost Mother’s Day! Share a parenting moment where you really began to realize what this mothering thing is all about.

Everyone has a different story about how the KNEW they were a mother.  A true sense of the word.  People define it in many terms and with different degrees of emotion.  I have a slew of moments this occurred.  Like the time the nurse told me I was swaddling Thing One wrong.  What a a few of us experience though is much different than our counterparts that are married.  It is called the "Single Mom" moment. 

 Big Cheese and I had been apart since Thing Two was 4 weeks old.  There I was, trying to breast feed a newborn and ripping her off my breast to go rescue Thing One from falling off a couch he had climbed.  I cried on the floor  along with my babies that morning.  Not just from the burning pain in my breast, but because I was alone with two very young children.  It felt surreal, because my plan never included being alone.  Yet there I was crying along with both of my babies wondering if I would ever get through this moment.  I vowed never to be alone with them.  Mami was always there to help out with Thing One.  She kept him entertained while I breast fed, or focused attention on my very newborn Thing Two. When venturing out I always had a friend, a family member, or Mami to help when Thing One would wander off aimlessly as I tried to put Thing Two in her car seat.   

August 2009, was when Thing One turned two.  He had been watching Nick Jr. and a song about the beach came on.  He was hyper focused and would talk incessantly about the beach and how he wanted to go. A mother will do anything for her children who was I to say no. On his birthday I planned to take him to a local beach that was kid friendly called "mother's beach".  It is more of a bay than anything, but they have life guards, and plenty of play things for small children.  I asked Mami to go with me, but she has never been a lover of walking in sand and her mobility was a concern to her.  It was a weekday, which meant all of my friends were working.  Only one thing to do at that point, go with the children by myself.

I packed up the car, planned every minute of that day.  How do I keep them safe?  What if something happens, what is my plan of action?  Self talk that came up a lot: "Breathe, you can do this, it is what Thing One has been looking forward to". 

There were moments in the day when I thought I was going to lose it. Like when Thing Two toppled over in the sand while sitting and got it in her face. In the mad rush to wash her off, Thing One decided to throw a tantrum and not want to go to the water. I must have looked like a mad woman dragging a screaming toddler and carrying a crying baby. Then there was the moment that while in the water Thing One slipped under the shallow water and I couldn’t get his little hand fast enough to pull him up. The look on his face was of fear and relief at the same time. I recognized that look on him because that is how I  had felt most days since Big Cheese had been gone.

Woo Hoo! Let's hear it for tantrums!:

At the end of the day I had a happy Thing One and we all survived our first outing with just the three of us. When I sat down and thought of it all I realized I could do this single mom thing.  Is it hard? By all means YES!  Could I do this alone? YES!

When your a mother, there is no time to fear or to doubt.  Sometimes you just have to face those fears that lay inside your mind and do what your heart is telling you to do for those you love the most.  It means sacrificing and growing.  That day I knew that despite my support system, I could raise these children and that all would be ok, even if it didn't seem like it at that moment. 

I am glad I went through that moment to become a better mother, and to tackle my fears. Since then The Things and I have gone on to many adventures together, just the three of us. No more crying on the floor.

The joy that will forever be burned in my head that day:

Happy Mothers day to all my fearless moms.

What was your "mom" moment?

Inspiring me to write my life story:

Wordless Wednesday: Cinco de Mayo

First Heart Break

You know in life you always have that first heart break.  It never crossed my mind that Thing Two would experience it from the one man who should carry her heart like a delicate piece of china. Big Cheese broke her heart this weekend and I want to tear his apart for making her feel like that. 

I am typing this with bags and dark circles under my eyes. My heart breaks for my baby girl.  Saturday was her big day.  She got her first ever trophy that day. Big Cheese, no where in sight.  Las Vegas to be precise on his location.  I had a huge discussion with him about this decision. Big Cheese had known about this big day since January when the soccer schedules were given.  I would have seen it as a mere over sight had it not been for the fact that he never backed out of going. 

To top it off, it was his weekend with the Things.  He actually called me to cover for him so that he could go and he would take the next two weekends to be with the children.  I just couldn't believe he was going to miss her big day.  When I reminded him of the day and that I would cover if he still wanted to go, he said "Thanks".  I felt the blood heat up under my skin.  In my head "Thanks" was a brush off of what this would do to my little dolls heart.  I just answered "No need to Thank me, you will need to explain to the Things why you were not there".  Of course I got no answer.

Lately we haven't been seeing eye to eye on things, and this just exacerbated those feelings. He had already let our children witness their father get into my face and yell and call me names in public.  Their little hearts were suffering and all I wanted was some kind of normal for them.  We argued once more before he left.  Big Cheese thought I was just upset because he was going to Las Vegas.  This wasn't like the times before, I wasn't concerned about our family, this time it was our children.   It was a big day, a moment that is fleeting.  It will never be her first trophy ever again.  Las Vegas will always be there, but this moment is gone.  Thing Two now holds the memory of her father being absent from that moment.

You must think by now "Well she is three, she can't possibly remember anything".  All day on Saturday we were busy, happy, or so I thought.  I saw a glimpse of her searching the crowd when she got the trophy, a slight sad look.  I just left it alone, hoping it was just me that saw that look.  Sunday morning as we ate breakfast with no one but her and I eating at the table she uttered the phrase I long feared would come sooner or later, "Mommy, Daddy wasn't at my banquet.  It made me sad.  Zoe had her daddy there".  Her face was sullen and her eyes watered and filled with salty tears that I kissed away for her.  It's all I could do.  I couldn't discount those feelings.  Her little heart was broken. 

Times like these I wish he could see what he does by some of his actions.  The same actions that made me walk away from him. Only this time it was not a 39 year old woman who's heart he broke, it was a three year old sweet vivacious little girl who's heart he broke. 

I was so sad and mad.  Mad that he had the ability to chose his own interest over his children.  How does one make things better?  I don't know, but I am going to try my best to be there and to help both my children heal from all this.  I just hope the happy feelings out weigh those that reside in her heart at this moment.

Wordless Wednesday: A date I made a decision. KISMET

They were meant to be mine.

Why I don't believe in internet dating... ANYMORE

If you don't my stance on dating and the single mom well it goes like this:  I don't have the time, when and where am I suppose to do this?  There you go in a nutshell.  A lot of people have suggested I do online dating.  Then I had a total flashback.

After my divorce ages ago I had no children and the internet dating scene was truly in full swing.  It was the latest in being able to meet that special someone.  Yes people, I was an online dater.  It was an experience to say the least.  Some of my worst dating moments happened during that time.  There is the guy who claimed to work for the FBI and we met for a movie in the afternoon.  He said to forgive him for he had been at a stake out all night therefore couldn't get to a shower before meeting me.  I couldn't hear him to well because I was to busy swatting the flies that were swarming around him.  Then there was the guy who was worried about how he was balding and talked about all the treatments he was considering to keep his hair intact.  I still went out with him a few times and discovered he had white carpets at his home and didn't want much company coming over.  He had a cat and his previous girlfriends picture on the mantle.  If anything gets you out of the mood to make out, it's definitely the ex-girlfriend staring back at you and a cat hissing at you. Also turns out he had a lot of gay friends who he preferred to hang out with.  I wanted to tell him just to come out of the closet already and to stop kidding himself.  So yeah, it was a nightmare at some points.

I do have to say I did meet some great people online.  There was The Frog who I dated for a good part of 3 years.  I still remain friends with his family and I hear from him occasionally.  Then I met a few platonic friends who I ended up setting up with friends.  Like my guy friend "Happy Smile" who I set up with my co-worker "Lovey".  They have now been married for a good part of 10 years and have two beautiful children.  So maybe using the internet to meet other people is not in the words of Bobby Bouche's mother on The Water Boy "DA DEVIL". 

So after much debate in my head I put myself out there.  Online dating, yes people I took another stab at it.  Before you  all get all "well isn't it costly?"  "You need to be cautious" I did a free dating site.  I put it out there 6 months ago.  Just wrote the general witty stuff I'm known for, posted a decent picture and let it marinate.

I have had a few hits, a few messages, nothing too spectacular.  I have also had a few lurkers and men with OTHER intentions.  So for the most part my profile out on the site as a security.  Something to fall back on when I am ready.  In the mean time I've met a slew of platonic male friends who tell me that my time will come, that I'm funny, they give me that boost.  I am ok with that.  Then there are those friends who say "you should meet my friend, blah blah blah"  and well nothing usually has come out of that.  So dating seriously is still non-existent for me.

Now down to why I really don't believe in the online dating.  In my inbox on Wednesday was a standard message from the website I signed up for.  The title was "We have matches for you".  So out of curiosity I checked it, couldn't hurt to see what they had in mind for me.  I had previously stipulated what type of person I was looking for and what my needs where, so obviously it could possibly be a match, right?! 

There it was staring at me when I opened the email.  A picture of a face I new all too well.  A person I knew for a good 6 years.  A person who I had just seen that morning.  Big Cheese was my number one match. I had to do a double take. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Really?  I did not need to read the profile, I did not need a first date to know that this was not right.  We tried for years to make it work and two kids later, it still did not work. 

PFFFSSSHHHH!  I quit internet dating!  They know nothing! 

Have you ever tried internet dating?  How has it worked out for you?

Who am I?

And who will my children identify with? 

 I read the artical in the Los Angeles Times:
Latino or Hispanic? For many Americans, neither feels quite right.   It got me thinking of my own identity and that of my children.  In the article it states that many still identify with "mexican" or "chicano".  Here is where I differ.  I am born in the United States, Mami is from Ecuador, Sarge was Mexican-American.  So when in school and someone asked if I was Mexican-American I would simply say "Umm...half".  Sarge always made sure that I knew of both of my heritages but here I was having to peg myself as one or another.  Many say "Well you are American of course", which I am but it feels awkward and strange not to identify all of my ancestors. 

America, is a melting pot so I can't be the only one in this predicament. Big Cheese, the kids father is of Mexican-American background.  Technically I guess you can say Thing One and Thing Two are 75% Mexican-American and 25% Ecuadorian-American.  I can totally see why this can get difficult when census time comes or when you fill out surveys and such.  I think that is why I liked the term Latina-American.  I feel like I am not denying my roots and I am embracing my country.

Now here is one for the government to figure out a term for:  My friend Chula and her husband Tosh have two children.  Chula is German and Mexican-American. Tosh is Japanese and Mexican-American.  So then how do you determine that?  Asian-Latino American?

You just have to love the diversity!  You cannot encompass all the different mixes this country has to offer.

Do you have a particular way of identifying your families ethnicity?

Latino or Hispanic? For many Americans, neither feels quite right

Latino or Hispanic? For many Americans, neither feels quite right

Buried in Papers and Tears

Big black bold letters on the pretty colorful envelope that was given to me made me freeze. Figuratively and physically, I just froze holding the large packet.

“FOSTER ELEMENTARY SCHOOL”

My goodness I wanted to cry. I held back because after all, a grown woman crying in a school cafeteria is not conducive to the appearance of a mature motherly type.  Wasn’t it just the other day that I was wiping the drool from Thing One’s chin after all the teething that he was doing?  Didn’t I just wean him off a pacifier?  Didn’t he just learn to say Momma? UGH!  Of course not a tear was shed in the cafeteria, but my soul was crying.  Joy, sadness, and sheer panic settled in the pit of my stomach. 

A part of me was mad as well.  What the heck!  It’s only April! First Kindergarten meeting for early registration is well on it is well on its way in many school districts.  Children do not start school until August and the children and I are just starting to enjoy the longer days of sunshine and I am being forced to think of Fall already.

I am a planner by nature, but this I was not planning to do so far in advance.  Let me keep my baby boy!  Let me snuggle more, let us play silly face longer without the rush of homework or grades looming over us!  Let me play a little longer with my boy with no academic pressure if we are doing the right things together.  He will be buried in paperwork and thinking and growing.  I know this.  I cannot help but think that I am losing a part of him, just like he lost his cherub cheeks over the course of the last year. 

Now, don’t get me wrong I’m a fairly sane woman.  I know he needs to be in school and I know very well I need to let go a little at a time, but no one said it would be easy.  I know he is ready for this and I need to start loosening that blanket of security that I have had him swaddled all these years.  I just hope the school doesn’t mind a few salty stain tear drops on the mountains of papers I am to turn in to them.

Welcome new chapter for both Thing One and I.  Come August we will both be Kindergarten ready.  Or at least he will be. *sniff* *sniff*

Mama Kat's World Famous Writing Workshop: I do believe in the Magic of Disneyland!

One of this week’s Mama Kat’s World Famous writing prompts brought me a flood of memories.

“It happened at Disneyland… “ Read on.

Living in the city of Angels gives me an opportunity to be literally a hop skip and a jump away from the Happiest Place on Earth (also known as the most expensive, but I digress) . My first visit ever to Disneyland was one I was just a month old.  Of course this was in the days when you didn’t have to give a liver and promise for other body part upon death to get in.   We had family visiting and dad always made sure they had a trip to Disneyland.  I guess that is why I took it for granted for so many years that it was so close.  I was always excited to go, but alas it would always be there. I lost the true magic of the place somewhere and didn’t go for years.  Somewhere between high school Grad night at Disney and the one or two trips after that, I lost the love for it.

This love loss prevented me from ever wanting to go again.  That is until about two years ago.  Thing One and Thing Two fell in love with the Mickey Mouse Club House. They were sucked into the world of Disney.  DARN YOU CATCHY SONG! 

Then there were endless birthday wishes of “I want to see where Mickey and Minnie live Momma” .  There eyes pleading, begging.  How do I fight this?  Easy I looked at the prices and nearly passed out.  “What do you mean I have to pay for a 3 year old???!!! “  Commercialism at it’s best.  They wanted me to bite.  I didn’t instead I took them to Disney on Ice.  What is a single mom to do after all.  So for the next year after seeing Disney Ice they did nothing but talk about the experience and how the loved it.

 I got it folks “Parent Guilt”.  So for the next year I plotted and planned on how to make Disneyland more affordable to a single mom.  I found ways around it and saved money and I got us tickets for the most magical time of the year at Disneyland, the holidays.

People, do you know what happened?  I LOVED LOVED LOVED sharing it through the eyes of two excited little children.  Their excitement and joy was mine.  Everything was new and everything was worth seeing.  Even sharing the scary moment of meeting the characters and freaking out with Thing Two was worth every penny.  I’m already planning next year’s trip.  When the castle was lit and we were on Main Street and the man made snow fell as the gentle Christmas music played I cried.  I get it now, I get why my dad would take us all the time.  It’s not about how much he spent; it was about the magic he saw in my eyes. 

It was a wonderful 1st visit to the Magic Kingdom!

As always ROCKED to you because I love this blogger: