El Huevo

Hi there.

It's been a while, huh? What can I say. Life. It gets to be hectic and crazy. This past week was an especially rough one for my kiddo and me.

My lil girl rarely, if ever, gets sick. Sure, some sniffles and a slight cough every couple of months, we can handle that. Well, last Sunday night, she started getting a pretty high fever. I took her to the ER but since I had already given her some meds, her temp was in the normal range. I decided to leave and take her to the doc first thing in the morning.

So, Monday morning, we head over to her doc and find that she had strep throat. It wasn't anything knew; she'd already  had a couple of run-ins with it before. I pretty much knew the drill. Well, the week went on but my lil monkey wasn't getting back to being her usually charming self. Even with a cold, this lil girl doesn't quit playing, laughing, or getting into her messes. This time, thought, she was was bound to the couch and her appetite had completely disappeared. I knew something else was going on.

Wednesday morning, back to the doc. I was told the same thing; strep throat but the infection was pretty strong. Wednesday night...her fevers were still going on strong.

Thursday evening, back to a night clinic. The end diagnosis: the flu. Another prescription and my kiddo was good to go. By this time, it had been a very looooooong week for both of us. She was fighting the sickness and I was sick with worry.

Friday morning, she woke up well, but the exhaustion was evident in her face. Her smiles were a bit dim but she was starting to get her sparkling demeanor back. Friday night though, I felt like we were back to square one. She woke up crying and complaining and I was so worried and freaked out that I did what every grown woman would do: I called my mom.

Mom rushed over to my apt (at 12 am....she's beyond awesome) and tried to soothe my lil girl the only way a grandmother can. My kiddo wasn't having none of it and was very incoherent. I was practically crying at her behavior (ok, I was bawling) and that's when my mom uttered the magic words: TRAE ME UN HUEVO.

Mom prayed over my daughter while sweeping her body with the egg and then cracked it into a glass of some water. That's when Mom said, "There it is. She had ojo y estaba fuerte."

haven't learned the correct way to read the egg yet..but I'm working on it

An hour later, my daughter was laughing and playing around with my mom. After that last episode, my daughter's been doing better. She's still tired and I'm still nervous but her health has improved a lot.

What a week. As for the whole curar de ojo thing, I know it didn't cure her of all the things that were making her sick. I know she was sick cuz of the infection and the flu BUT the egg sweep helped her too. I'm not overly superstitious but I believe in that.

So pardon the lapse in blog entries and I'll work on coming up with stuff. But for now, ladies and gents, here's wishing you all a great March month. I'm sure praying it's a boring one.

:-)

Stop to Smell the Flowers

I visited my dad this weekend and upon getting off my car, I got a whiff of something familiar in the air. At first, I couldn't pinpoint what the scent was but when I looked down the street, I saw the source of the aroma. It was the 'frijolio' tree.

To be honest, I really dunno what the tree's real name is and I didn't have much time to research it before posting this entry. Frankly, I haven't had much of a chance to write, much less google anything BUT I wanted to share this before the flowers withered away to little pods that look like beans. I guess that has something to do with the name (Dad calls it that).

Anyways, the scent of this flower automatically reminds me of home. My brother even took a bunch and used it as an air freshener for his car. 

BTW, it's been a hectic month for me. I apologize (again) for the sparse blogging. It's gotten to the point where I don't even remember what I had for dinner the night before. It really is that bad. Want proof? 

This past Friday, I arrived to my apartment. Since it was raining, I carried my daughter inside, in order to avoid her leaving a trail of mud in the living room. Well, when I put her down on the couch, I took off my shoes and closed the door. We went about our normal evening routine until I heard a knock on the door. This startled us, considering we don't have many visitors, and when I checked the peephole, I didn't recognize the woman standing on the other side. I opened the door to see what she wanted and that's when I realized exactly why she was knocking....I HAD LEFT MY CAR DOOR OPEN!! The woman was my upstairs neighbor (goes to show how often I'm at my apt) and she was concerned upon seeing that my car door was open. I profusely thanked her, closed the car door, and went back into my apt, shaking my head in disbelief. I swear I'm not usually so spacey. 

So, yes ladies and gentlemen, it's been one of those months. But it'll get better soon. I hope so.

Till then, take a second to smell the flowers. It helps. 

Sometimes It Hurts

*wrote this a couple of months ago and didn't have the nerve to post it...the storm's passed...I'm better now*

I wanna confess something to you all. It's not easy for me to do this, and it's probably not going to be pretty (que dramatic, no). I've met the guy I wanna marry. I've had him in my life for a while. You know what's the saddest part of this story of mine? He'll never actually be my husband. Curious as to why? I'm the token good friend. (Insert the sad face emoticon here)

It's like a flashback from my high school years. I always fell in love (well what I thought was love) with my best guy friend and I'd always end up having my heart broken because they didn't feel the same way. I was only ever to be the friend. Their confidant, their best pal, just one of the guys...I never really ended up dating any of them. And please don't think I feel in love with all my guy friends, there's only two that really stand out that I ever had strong feelings for. Boyfriends? I only had one. That story's been told over and over...and we all know how that turned out.

I didn't expect to fall  any time soon. Well, it's been two years since my split from my daughter's father, so it's not that soon. What makes this guy so darn special? I have an image of what my ideal guy would be like, this guy fits the bill perfectly. I'm not even exaggerating.

But we can't forget that he'll never really be with me. What do I learn from these situations? I really dunno. It seems to continue to happen to me, so I guess I haven't learned anything. Does it suck? Of course! Am I going to shrivel up and die because of it? Nah. It'll sting for a while but eventually he'll fade away into a memory and one day I'll think about him with fondness...and not with the sadness I feel now.

It's the way of the world. I can continue on and on with my sob story but what's the point. But this guy is special. But I guess he's just not for me.

And here goes the token sad love song. :(

Random Thought

A veces, es lo que mas me falta.

Fridays at Dad's

People constantly comment on my sarcasm. Perhaps through writing, it might not that noticeable, but in person, my sarcasm can be a tough pill to swallow. I'm constantly being called mean, rude, cold, and even inconsiderate. Of course I apologize and offer a quick reassurance that I'm like that with everyone. There's not one person that's been able to avoid my razor sharp tongue.

It could be considered a defense mechanism but to be totally honest, it's just part of my personality. As I've said before, my brothers and father are even worse. I'm no competition for them. Whenever we get together and start joking around, I start shooting blanks. I always end up losing....so I can say that I know exactly what my victims mean when they say that it stings.

Where does this thorny characteristic come from? I'd have to say from my paternal grandmother. She always had a come back for everything. But this trait is especially evident in my uncles. I never really noticed just how sarcastic my uncles were until I hung out at my dad's one Friday night.

See, my dad has a tio-get-together every weekend. My uncles bring their guitars, amps, microphones, choice of beverage, and their witty personalities. The main focus of these hangouts is to hold their mini concerts. Their performances usually start with some Beatles, then head into some Rolling Stones, then some Creedence Clearwater and even Jose Alfredo Jimenez for good measure. Ah, and they even write their own songs. And that's where their quick wit and sarcasm is most evident; in the music they come up with.

jam session in the west side

No one is safe when it comes to their bullying. They pick on each other. They make fun of city officials, nation-wide politics, local shenanigans, anything that comes to mind, it's all fair game. There's been many a night that I've sat there, laughing at their bantering and feeling super jealous because I don't stand a chance against them.  But I can say I've learned a thing or two.

Main lesson I've learned: one has to be smart with the quick wits. Words can't come at random and without any basis, because then you don't have any argument. Eventually the joke will fall on you. Words have to be chosen wisely, but one has to be fast with the quips. Otherwise, you'll be left in the dust. I'll still never be competition for my brothers, dad, and uncles. It's a good thing I don't talk to them that often.

So, yes people, there are tons of others with a harsher sense of humor than me. I'm the tamest of the bunch. But believe me, I've started carrying my notepad when my dad has the tios over. I gotta be at the top of my game. And while doing my studying, I'm listening to some pretty awesome music. To say that creativity is something that's hereditary is an understatement. I was born into a family that not only values unity but also cherishes music and writing.

Ya just can't beat that.

By the way, I think the picture below would best capture the tios-get-togethers. Everyone always has their drink with them.

McD's Coke for Tio #1; Schaefer for #2; La Natural Light para numero tres; Diet Coke for Dad
with such eclectic preferences, of course there'd be some fun times to be had

Daily Living

I might have a problem. I dunno. But I only ate at Danny's once this past week. Baby steps.

Things change so quickly. In my small absence, Danny's got a new look for their menu. I like it. 

don't the plates look pretty?

colorful as ever...I think it's friendlier than the previous one

See, I can't be gone for too long. I might miss something. 

Confessions

 1. I haven't washed my car in over six months. Now, if you saw my car, that fact wouldn't really be a secret, but since I'm not including a visual, I thought I'd point that out. My reasoning? Sadly, it's pure laziness. Don't worry though, I am getting to the point where I'm embarrassed. Just not really there yet.

 2. This past week, I ate at Danny's a total of four times. And two of those times were on the same day. I should be extremely ashamed about that, but I'm not. Is this the first time I do this? I think it just might be.

 3. As per #2, I'm sure this ain't gonna be much of a surprise but I don't really cook at my apartment. In fact, out of a normal week, I spend about one whole evening in my apartment. I'm usually visiting the 'rents, brothers, or trying to weasel a free dinner outta my friends. Yes, yes..shame on me.

 4. I wear my sunglasses at night. No, I'm not cool. I need glasses to drive, especially at night (some say I need them all the time) but sometimes I'll forget my eyeglasses at home and so I have to wear my sunglasses since they have prescription. Yes, I'm fully aware of how crazy I probably look but I'll take the chances with that instead of getting into a wreck.

 5. Now, I thought twice about admitting this specific confession but what the hell...I need to start being truthful with the reality of my life....I get most of my 'news tidbits' from Facebook. Believe me, I hide that secret from everyone, especially my dad. I would for sure be disowned.

 6. I never really understood the meaning of forgiveness until I met up with it a couple of weeks ago. It's amazing how fully embracing the word can completely change one's outlook on life. The thing about forgiveness, it can't be forced; it arrives at its appropriate pace.

 7. I believe in love.

 8. I sometimes forget my coffee mug in my car. Well, it might cuz I'm too lazy to get it down at the office or at home. There have been times when I've left my mugs for a week...with a lil coffee still in it. I always have to end up soaking the mug in warm water, soap, and some Clorox. It's gross, I know, but I'm pouring my heart out here. I ain't perfect, member?

 9. I'm OCD-ish when it comes to my apartment and office. I can't relax or work properly in a dirty or chaotic environment. My car, is a whole different story.

10. If my friends and family didn't make the effort to keep in contact with me, they'd probably never hear from me again. I'm sure the reasoning's a bit deeper than laziness. And maybe it's not.

Keep tuned...the randomness will continue forth.

A Break for Fun

Yay to enjoying the crap outta life and dancing it up. If I had enough confidence, I'd be getting down to boogie at every party I'm invited to.

For now, I'll let this lively woman do the dancing for me. I sure learned a couple of new moves.

Look Into My Crystal Ball

A month after my high school graduation, my best friend and I found ourselves wandering around downtown Laredo. I don't really know how we got there in the first place. We didn't live close by and we didn't drive at that time. I'd say fate had a hand in it.

What we were looking for? I really don't know. At that time, she was planning on leaving for the Navy and I was going to stay behind and attend the local university. We had one month to hang out and embrace what was left of our childhood. Forever was upon us and we didn't know what was coming.

Perhaps we wanted answers. Maybe we wanted some reassurance that we'd be okay. That's the only way I can explain what we did that night.

random Internet photo

We walked into a psychic shop.

The gentleman we ran into inside was smoking his cigarette, patiently waiting for his next customer to stop by. The smell of the place reminded me of a moldy attic...well, a moldy attic with incense burning in the corner. He shook our hands, and graciously welcomed us in. Upon asking us what we were looking for, my best friend and I almost ran back outside when he quickly reached for her hand. He started reading her palm. Telling her how long she was going to live, when she was going to get married, how long the marriage would last, when her health would fail her, how many kids she was going to have.....We were hooked and followed him to the back of his shop where he held his readings.

We were two extremely naive eighteen-year-olds on the perch of the future and we wanted answers; we wanted some glimpse of tomorrow. I don't remember clearly what he saw in her cards. I know I was fascinated with the images of swords, grim rippers, princesses, and princes on the cards. My best friend sat amazed at hearing all that was on the way.

For my reading, the only thing that I remember was that within a year's time, I was going to be either married or pregnant. Neither of which ever ended up happening. But believe me, I had his predictions running around my head at the oddest of moments that following year. I was relieved when the year marker came and went and I was still childless and single.

After the experience, we left the his shop, going over everything it was that we had been told. We were excited, fascinated, and anxious all at the same time. Life was at its zenith. That night, we went to our respective homes, prayed for forgiveness for what we had done (born into Catholic families, we knew such a thing was so wrong), and embraced the experience for what it had been: the last hoo-rah for two lives jumping into the unknown depths of the future.

Point of the story? There really isn't one. I was just thinking about that experience a while back when I drove past a tarot card reading shop. None of the things we were told that night came true. Basically, we paid 15 bucks for a load of crap. But it was fun. Sure, kinda dark fun, but it's a fond memory I have.

Have I done it since then? Nah. Would I? No. A while back, my mom wanted to go to one of those curanderos and do some magic for me. She wanted me to snap out of my reverie and realize that I needed to leave my ex. Did she do it? As far as I know she didn't. But then again, she used to go and buy those money-bringing candles from those places. Don't judge mi mamita so harshly. She had the best of intentions if she did end up doing it.

If anyone does end up going, do share the results. From the man back in 2001, I'm supposed to be on my fourth child and second marriage by now.

I guess I missed a step somewhere.

A Note on Forgiveness

Since I left the Valley, I never had a positive relationship with my daughter's father. I had always tried my absolute best to get along with him for the sake of my daughter. Considering he was a miserable human being, she had always been very attached to him. At the time when I left him, my kiddo had just turned two and I felt like I owed it to her to make the effort to have him continue to be a part of her life. He made that task very difficult.

Though the course of 2010, he made my life hell. His calls would usually end up in threats against me and my family. His texts would remark on how I was probably partying it up over here. To him, that was the reason why I had left him in the first place. In his troubled mind, I wanted to be single again and find my daughter another father. He would call my work whenever I didn't return his calls or his texts. His newest girlfriend had also started texting and calling me, making sure that I knew she was now involved with him. For some reason, she thought I had been working on getting him back. They made my life so stressful. There were times when I thought this would never end. 

I tried my best to keep all this to myself, I figured this was the situation I had gotten myself into. Eventually, I had to let my family know what was going on. My parents would tell me to change my phone number. To ignore his texts. To not worry about him; that he really couldn't do anything to me. They never understood how that wasn't easy for me. After so many years of living that kind of life with him, I didn't know how to completely disconnect. I knew I didn't want to go back but I couldn't cut all ties with him. There was some guilt associated with that decision but more than anything, it was fear. I was scared of him. Of what he could do. Of where he could be. I was living three and a half hours away from him but I was absolutely terrified of him. 

I've always heard, some things happen for a reason. I thought people were lying when they said that. Well, in March of 2011 I fully understood that concept. That month, I stopped hearing from him. All communication from him had seized. At first, I didn't breathe any sighs of relief. I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Unbelievably, it never did. His first letter arrived sometime at the end of April. He was in jail. 

Long story short, he was sentenced to four years in a state jail. My days were calmer, my life seemed brighter, I breathed easier. All the letters he sent went unanswered. Many of them went unread. I felt like I was finally free. Until I realized I still couldn't talk about him without feeling angry. I couldn't help but feel bitter whenever I had to refer to him. I hadn't yet dealt with those feelings, or what I had gone through with him.

My mom would remark on how angry I sometimes seemed when I spoke of romantic relationships. Friends would comment on how blase I was whenever I spoke about incidents of the physical abuse I had gone through with him. Others commented on how defensive I was, and on how cold I had started to be. So I decided to write him a letter. I figured that would be part of my healing.

The first letter turned out to be five pages. It carried all my anger, pain, resentment, and my complete hatred of who he was as a person. It outlined every episode I had with him. It retold all the verbal arrows he struck me with. It let him know exactly what I thought of him as a human being. At the end, I never sent it. I figured it didn't send out the message I wanted him to receive.

The second letter turned out to be three pages. More than anything else, it carried my pain. It carried my questions of why he would ever want to hurt me in such a way. Had I really deserved it? It carried my sadness at realizing that everything I had ever done had not been enough to make our relationship work. At the end, I didn't send that letter out either. I wasn't satisfied with the overall message. He might've gotten the impression that I wanted to try again, which was the absolute last thing on my mind.

Third, fourth, fifth, sixth letters were all basically the same. Until one day, out of the blue, I felt what I needed to say.  The letter turned out to be two pages. It was void of all accusations; questions of why were omitted, and the pain had somehow evaporated. The only thing this letter carried was my forgiveness. It was a notion that had never crossed my mind, but it ended up being what I had to do to let go. I had finally forgiven him. 

I received his reply a couple of weeks ago and to be completely honest, it didn't really matter to me what he said. All I know now is that I feel at peace. I feel like I dealt with something that I was running away from for a long time. It's not to say I'm the 'normal' me. I don't think I can ever be that person again, but I'm not bitter. I'm not angry. I'm not hurting. Not anymore. 

My outlook on life is a bit brighter. My smiles are no longer forced and although I'm still defensive, I've let people in. I share my life with others, which I found so difficult to do not that long ago. I'm still a work in progress, that goes without saying, but there's hope for me yet. 

As Einstein said: "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results." That could sum up the last couple of years of my life. I felt like I was running around in circles, expecting to find an exit outta the blue; when all I needed to really do was stop, listen to my heart and finally move in the direction that I had always avoided. 

Anyways, I'm not completely fixed. I'm not completely healed. But I've made great progress because at least now, I can be sincere, which was something that had disappeared several years ago. 

Just thought I'd share that with you. Since my blog has pretty much served as my therapy, perhaps that might explain the sparse blogging. But I'll find other stuff to talk about. I always do. Besides, there's always hiccups along the way. Now, though, I feel a bit more complete to deal with them. 

:-)

Daily Living

When I was a kid, my mom placed a picture of a guardian angel over the doorways in my room. My brothers had one too. She told us that the angel was there to protect us whenever we left or entered the rooms.


Well, things have changed, but at least they're still in the house.

Except one of the pictures is in a different location.

I guess everyone needs guidance and support all the time....even while on the toilet.

P.S. Mom was shocked upon hearing where the picture now stood. She was not pleased. 

What Walks Downstairs?

Bet you all thought I was joking when I said I was gonna get my daughter a Slinky for Christmas, huh. Well, you're right. She didn't get one for Christmas but I recently got her one. This past weekend, I was rummaging around Wal-Mart's super-duper clearance bins for Xmas goods and ran into a Slinky Jr. Not only was finding it awesome, the fact that it was thirty cents made the find even cooler.

I remember now how we had to be careful with this one, we'd always end up pinching our arm hairs off

When I took it home and showed her how to use it, she didn't get such a big thrill outta it but you should have seen my brothers and me....we had some fun! It was the plastic version, which is not as good as the original metal one, but we tried our best to make it walk. We don't have stairs at my dad's house but we slanted the coffee table and were able to make it work. That's when I remembered why my brothers and I yearned to have a house with stairs when we were kids (until the two-story horror movies scared us outta that idea). As a kid, my dad's quick thinking saved the day....he got some discarded tabla, laid it at an angle against a fence, and set the Slinky to strut its stuff.

Since my daughter, upon learning how to use her Slinky didn't wanna share her toy anymore, I thought I'd go see if they still sold the original one. They still do. It's a real steal for three bucks at Wal-Mart. I bought it, telling the cashier that it was for my daughter; I felt like I needed to explain since she looked at me kinda weird. Taking the toy outta the box, it still had that chemical smell to it. Immediately I was reminded of the big difference between the plastic and metal version. Sure, neon colors were nice, but the metal one had more movement to it.

So, this past weekend, if you drove by Los Amores, you'd probably see a couple of adults and one lil girl huddled around an angled tabla seeing the Slinky do its thing. I ain't ashamed to say we had a blast.

It's all about simplicity, remember...and trying to get in touch with the child inside. Seems like I touch base every weekend, huh.

Daily Living

"Hey, I found a song that reminds me of you." My friend drags me into his office so he can show me the video.

"How does this song remind you of me?" I ask him as I give him back his phone.

With a smile from ear to ear, he says, "People make all different kinds of assumptions about you and most are probably wrong. But at the end of the day, whether they're right or wrong, you don't really give a crap."

Aah, my dear friend, he sure has a way with words.

Christmas 2011

Hi there.

Well Christmas has come and gone. It passed by quick, huh. It was a great one. I kinda made up for having missed out on the Halloween stuff (damn baseball).

We got to see all the cartoon specials. I totally recommend all the oldies but my absolute favs would have to be A Charlie Brown Christmas and Emmet Otter's Jug Band Christmas. Those two hit some strong chords in my beaten up heart. Of course, I ain't saying that Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, Mickey's Christmas Carol, Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and The Year Without a Santa Claus are chopped liver. Those are some fantastic toons...but Charlie Brown and Emmet symbolize my dad's fervent teachings that the season is meant to be more than just about presents. 

We got to go drive around Laredo to see other people's Christmas lights display. I remember when we were kids, on a chilly night, my mom would put on our pj's and bundle up in our coats and pile us into our dad's 1979 Capric Classic. My dad would rotate between two cassettes: John Denver and the Muppets A Christmas Together and some other kid friendly Christmas carols. He'd usually stick close to the west side cuz he said there was more spirit there than in the rich neighborhoods where they hired people to string up the lights. At the end of the night, we'd hit STARS for some burgers or foot-long dogs. This time, seven of us squeezed into his 1999 Ford Taurus (how we fit, I really don't know) and we drove around the city. We joked, oohed and awed, and had a jolly ol' time. STARS was still our go-to spot at the end of the night.          

Our House

The Competition

We got to bake cookies. I pride myself on my baking skills but due to lack of planning and time, I had to buy the just add water stuff. The cookies weren't really up to par, but the kiddo had a great time. This time she was finally able to join in the fun. We were even able to put together gingerbread houses. There was some competition between two of my sisters-in-law and my daughter and me. Putting together a gingerbread house is kinda difficult, especially when the helper is eating most of the decorations. Still, I think the final products came out nicely. Too bad they didn't make it to the big day. Apparently someone was missing cookies for his coffee...

who needs Christmas carolers? We have our own entertainment

Christmas Eve was spent at my grandmother's house, as per the tradition since before I can remember. Even though she's no longer with us, my dad tries his best to make her house inviting for whoever wishes to stop by. The tios got together to sing a couple of songs, the cousins lit some fireworks, all while A Christmas Story played in the background.

who really had more fun?

poor chair..anything for the niece

The big day was spent at my dad's. I decided to spend the night there since the kiddo was worried Santa would forget about her. My brothers also decided to spend the night at Dad's, so it felt like we were kids again. It was also the first time I had to officially play the role of the man in red. It was fun and I didn't mind the fact that I didn't get credit for any of her gifts; the look of wonderment in her eyes was worth it. The morning was spent joking around, eating tamales, the kiddo playing with her toys, all while A Christmas Story played in the background. I think that's the best thing in the world, drifting in and out of sleep while Ralphie is trying to get his Red Ryder BB gun from Santa. 

The evening was spent at my mom's, playing some loteria. Having divorced parents sucks the big one. Especially when they have absolutely no communication between each other. Usually one or the other ends up  losing out on the holidays. More often than not it's my mom, but that's dirty laundry that doesn't need to be aired out right now. Spending the evening, joking around and being with my mom ended the blessed day nicely.

So, I apologize for the lack of posting but December was a very good month for me. I'll try my best to touch base more often. I sincerely hope everyone had a great holiday. I'm already writing out my resolutions for the new year. 2012 is looking to be a pretty awesome year.

Cheers. 

Still Kicking

I'm still here; just haven't had anything to write about. Strike that...I do have a lot to write about just haven't had the time. Isn't that always the case?

I'm working on it. I'll squeeze out a couple of minutes somewhere. Till then, here is this year's Christmas tree.

Be back soon.