Friday, December 30, 2011

the timeline is finally coming together...

Turns out Marcus' trip was a never happening, and his tiny family here was very happily grateful.  Holland can have him some other time, and we really just soak Marcus up anytime we can get him.  Have I told ya'll how cute my husband is?  Pretty sure I have, but for some reason I am feeling sorta tell all'ish right now, so I went to grab my cell, to discover those clever texts I told ya'll about that we had in Chicago were missing, gone, no where to be found.  Give it up to blackberry for letting me down once again, GAAAH!!!  Marcus says that he'll fix it, he always does, so still they shall pend.

Adan turned out to have a double ear infection, and we went to see his pediatrician, his REAL pediatrician.  Luckily my baby has been very healthy, and we rarely go, but when we do, we have to have "sick" visits, which are usually done by his partners, not his primary :-(  But this time, we got Dr. Karam, and we were very happy, we love him.  Now, here's the part where I tell you that my child was an animal, and we had to hold him down and bribe him to cooperate so that he could be seen, however, I have been very lucky in that my kid is just about the most polite and kind boy.  Never once have I had to do that.  As a matter of fact, when Dr. Karam walked in, they immediately started chatting, about sports, age, etc...and Adan walked right up to him, and got examined.  When the appointment was done, Dr. Karam gets up, and before he walks out, he looks at Adan and says, "see you later, thanks for letting me see you", and Adan says, "you're welcome".  That's my bugga, he is just a gem.  I'm often asked how I get him to do certain things, or how is it that he just does this or that so quick or without putting up a fight.  The truth is, I don't know how, the only thing I know how to do is to be me, and if you know me, when I do something, that's it, that is what I'm doing and there isn't anything else, but what I'm doing.  There isn't any big preparation, no big meditation over the pre existing milestone, no over thinking the imminent change, just deciding to do it, then doing it.  And Marcus and I both have applied that to how we parent Adan.  With that said, I have to brag a bit here, as if that isn't what I'm already doing, but I am so very proud of this tiny 2 year old that I just welt up and haven't any place to put it, but this blog, so if you ever get turned off by my gush, then skip ahead or turn away...

He is now potty trained through the night, he just looked at us one night and said, "no pullup nigh night, jus 'sones" ('sones is short for calsones-which is Spanish for underwear).  I'd be lying if I said that the shear will of his tiny brain is the captain of his actions and the only culprit here, but Marcus and I both committed to praying for our child, and ask God to help us with the smallest of tasks to the inevitable larger more challenging ones to come. 

My two DIY projects have been kicking my butt.  Kinda glad though, I mean, I haven't gotten into a fight since highschool, haha.  So the coffee table turned ottoman is the toughest, only because I want to honor the idea and preserve the original table for a later time.  My future, more lovely home has a fancy spot waiting for it's legs, in its original form of course.  Nonetheless, I have been researching it like crazy trying to see which will be the best way to tuft this mother, whilst still protecting it...needless to say, I made the ottoman...the tufting, not so much...yet.  My hall bathroom, about 2/3rds done, I am in love with my pallet, and have so many other tiny things left to do, and I'm not shortening my stick for this one.  My goal was to have them both done by Christmas, shea-right, who was I kidding.  I can barely leave the compounds of dark eyeshadow, much less tackle a new, creative, do it yourself via the virtual world of Pinterest.
Just a tiny preview, looking at this makes me realize how much more I really have left...
Untufted, I didn't have time, but after New Year's, it's on, and the top will get buttonfly'd

Two Sundays ago we celebrated Marcus' 32nd birthday, and I got to host his annual bday dinner.  Apparently my meatloaf and sides do something to his tummy, because that is what he asks for every year, and every year I make it, and this was the first time it was actually at our house.  As I made my phone rounds, inviting the family, my dad told me, "sure, we'll be there, you better make sure there's plenty of food", and he was serious.  You see, my family has a bit of a problem when it comes to food, it's a little something I like to call, "someone, anyone, yank the fork out of my hand already".  I was raised to eat everything on my plate...if you serve it, you eat it...or else.  Sure enough, I made the head count after my phone invite was done, and planned accordingly, but true to form, a few of the "no's" quickly became unaware "yes's" and viola, my dad was right...DAMN it!  My husband thinks I have a bit of a stick up my hiney when it comes to our home, I love to have people over, LOVE IT, however, I HATE IT when I have unannounced guests, for this very reason.  I had to steal the birthday boy away to get fried chicken up the street to cover the head count, and snuck extra potatoes in the pot to spread my mash around.  Every experience is a learning one, and this is what I learned, make more than you think you need, because you never know who is coming.  Many of you may know that, but it's the principle people. I'm done.

Christmas was here and gone, just like that...here's a peek of Ese'me Street festivities... 
I complained frequently this holiday season about the Santa situation at The Parks Mall, and my little bugga didn't get to sit on his lap...but that turned out to be a non issue, you see, we happen to be a close friend of Santa, and he stopped by to pay lil Adan a personal visit. PERFECTION!!!
Stuffed our face with the talented culinaries of Sir Richard Dorn, you may know him as Tio RiRi
Boy was it ever
Poor goose was no match for bugga
Pinterest even showed up
Wouldn't be right if La Loteria wasn't dimed on

The Holidays bring other great gifts too.  Like when old friends come to town and you quickly realize that we are all grown up, and our offspring have the potential to be homies.  I haven't a clue where the time goes, what I do know is that time waits for no one and it's our job to grab the clock and tell it to slow down.  Wait, did I just inform you that we mere mortals have the power to stop time?  I believe I did, and you can.  Many times I feel like my eyes are lenses, and when I blink I can actually here my brain camera click.  Luckily for you, I had my actual camera this time, and my SLR clicked these.
These two have also been friends since grade school...last time I saw Mark Dixon, it was just him and the wifey, now they are a family of four...lucky guy
Two cute (pun intended)
Dixie House, such a staple of East Dallas, and always a homey warm place to meet up with great friends

Church the other morning revealed the biggest epiphany of all for me, EVER.  And I left there just in awe of His big plan, I have been a Christian since I was a little girl, and for some reason, this particular truth has never sunken in, and for some reason, about half way through his closing, I "oohh'd" audibly...I quickly looked at Marcus, and told him, "oh my God, I just had this biggest epiphany", and when I shared it with him, he was like, "oh yea, you're right".  I am not right, God is right, and He shared it with me that morning, and I will share it with you too, however, whenever the opportunity to present the word arrives, I'd like to lay the ground work right, so bare with me, it's coming.  In the meantime, below is a little something for my Heavenly Father.

Nothing has changed, not even Your love
Thanks to it now, I am changed by Your blood
As I sat there that morning, you spoke right to me
never leaving me side, receiving Your seed
Your purpose for me, it's always announced
It's my job now, to keep it around

Monday, December 5, 2011

if the timing isn't right then what...

In true Ese'me Street fashion, and aligning perfectly with the holiday season, Marcus has to leave us again.  Holland bound he shall be tomorrow, and luckily for us, it will only be a week this time, less than that really, because he will return on Saturday.  I miss him already. 

I have foolishly committed to DIY projects that are way beyond my scope of knowledge.  I blame Pinterest.  One is "turn a coffee table into an ottoman" and the other is..."redo your entire guest bathroom before Christmas".  I'm officially off my rocker, but so determined and so inspired.  I was at work one night, working my knuckes to the core, and whilst surfing the internet, I stumbled upon this.  Needless to say the site was full of oober delish ideas, and one in particular caught my eye.  Hence the ottoman attempt (using attempt lightly, because I'm as far along as the drawing board, and it's already been 1 week, eek). 

...and wouldn't you know it...the post shall be continued at a later time, and man is the title so dead on...Adan is having a coughing fit and a fever, and now in our bed, and can't post/blog with him sickies...

We'll talk soon :)

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

i can actually remember when...

Many of you may not know how Marcus and I met, so on our anniversary this day, I feel it suiting that I share our story.  And this shall be the long and short of it, for your reading pleasure of course.  It's a twisted, small world, OH MY GOD, kinda story, and telling it can be a challenge, because deciding where to start can make or break the events, hope you are able to follow along.

I was 21 and spending a ton of time, as usual, in front of the mirror, when I heard that infamous sound that AOL used to make when you got IM'd.  I ran over, and saw it was this guy, Joel, and he was asking me about people that I knew, turns out, we had the same friends.  Jeff Seguin was our common ground, and we ended up going out a couple of times.  On our last official hang out, I met all his friends, and one in particular, Marcus.  It was the popular thing, these men/boys used to do back then, they'd bargain with bar owners, talk up a good game about bringing them a huge crowd, asking to charge a cover, keep the door all whilst the owners would revel in the spillage of bar tabs.  And it was at one of their gigs, Home Bar, to be exact where I met Marcus.  You wanna know something funny, I met Cindy that night too, met my husband and best friend all at the same time, pretty cool.  Joel and I were leaving, and he wanted to introduce me to his best friend, who happened to be DJ'n this time, and he was all the yummy I needed and wanted.  Needless to say, Joel and I decided after that night, friends was a much better fit.  Marcus and I never hung out alone, we were always together as a group, all the guys, myself, and whatever girlfriends the boys were dating at the time, etc.  One night in particular, Joel was sick, and left early when we were all out, and Marcus became my ride, lucky me!  The next morning...STOP...no, we didn't do it...we weren't even close, we got up from having slept at his brothers house...HOLY CRAP, this is so fitting, and do you know why?  Because in addition to this being our anniversary, it is almost our exact anniversary of our first official/unofficial date, wow!  How am I barely noticing this?...dude, blogging saves lives!!!  Sorry, didn't mean to go off on a tangent just then, but Marcus and I have so many serendipity moments in our relationship/meeting that we discover all sorts of things all the time, many of which shall be disclosed below.  That morning, after I slept on the couch, alone, we got up, and he took me home, and on our way, we stopped off at Raymond's BBQ on Garland Rd.  He was hungry, as was I and he asked if we could stop to get something to eat.  I was dying, because he was so delish, and we had never had alone time, I WAS DYING.  That lunch would be the beginning of a year long-give or take-of platonic friendship.  Now, Marcus and I tend to have different versions when it comes to the year long-give or take-of platonic friendship.  I remember us not kissing or having sex or anything of the sort, because he was so untouchable and so yummy, I never in a million years ever thought that a guy like him would ever like a girl like me.  He says it wasn't quite that way, whatever :-/  His house was a staple for our hang out time, his garage in particular was our living room for beer drinking and lawn chair sitting, talking into the night about all kinds of stuff, listening to Stevie Ray...those were the days.  There was always this one picture in particular that always caught my eye as I would walk past his living room and into his bedroom, drove me crazy, because I saw it everyday and everyday I wondered, "WHY, why does that picture look so familiar?".  There in his room, we played the "lets look through old pics and go down memory lane" game.  He thumbed through a dozen or so, and came across one in particular, and when he handed it to me, I flipped my lid.  It was him, IT WAS HIM, oh my GOD! 

My junior year in high school I had gotten invited by a senior to go to prom.  I went, and as I was dancing, I noticed Tracy Jones, a friend walk into the dance with this guy.  I never remembered her having a boyfriend in school, and sure as hell think I would have remembered a guy like that.  All night I tried to get over to her, dodging any gesture my date had toward me, but I couldn't break lose, damn it.  Never stopped thinking about that guy, in fact, I remember asking her about him and she was all like, "yea, that's my friend, he goes to BL, he has a girlfriend though."  What could come of it really?  Nothing, I was in high school for goodness sake.  However, when you're 16, it's the end of the world.

His name was Marcus Sais.  He and Tracy had been friends for years and he was her escort.  I couldn't believe it.  I was freaking out.  It was him, he was that guy.  Holy crap.  I was sitting next to him on his bed, we had spent endless nights drinking, dancing, hanging out and talking for hours on end about anything and everything.  My sister had taken a picture of Tracy and her date that night, and she/I had a copy, and I still had it, all these years, I still had that picture.  The same picture that he just handed me to look at.  Don't get me wrong, I didn't have it framed and under my pillow at night, but nonetheless, I had it.  And now, the picture in the living room that had haunted me all this time, was unfuzzy.  He wore the same tux to his own prom, and that is why it looked so familiar. 

One night, as we were heading into the movies, some time after we became an item, we ran into his god parents.  He wanted to stop and say hello, they had spotted him, and it would be rude to not say hello.  Introductions were made, and his god father was very friendly with me, almost as if he knew me.  Even asked how my father was doing.  I thought it was kinda weird, but kinda polite too.  As we parted ways, his god father wanted me to tell my dad that Johnny Joe said hi.  Later that week I told my dad about Marcus' god parents and how his god father had said what he said, and my dad almost fell out of his chair.  Apparently, Johnny Joe and my dad used to be best friends, worked together for over 20 years at the Sears downtown.  So close in fact, that Johnny Joe had three sons, my dad had three daughters, and birthday parties alike were often visited by both families.  Marcus used to live across the street from them, and he apparently and almost literally lived there, with them.  He was their "4th child", and we are told that we were at the same birthday parties, together, as children.  Marcus likes to kid that he remembers me, that he used to take me behind the shed and lift up my pink dress.  :-)

I feel so lucky to have found my dream guy.

I can be overheard saying many times that I can't believe I am married to Marcus Sais.  We relive those years sometimes, and every time we talk about it, I learn something new.  Turns out, he always had a thing for me, right off the bat he says, I never knew it.  All those times we hung out "platonically", he had ulterior motives, and I never knew it.  One of my favorite stories in particular was when he was shaving, and he "said" that he was having trouble making a straight line under his chin, and asked me if I could do it.  Uh, duh, any chance I had to get close to him, I was all over it.  He says that he remembers me being close, how my legs were nearly straddling him, as I sat on the sink, and how he wanted to so badly just grab my back and pull me close.  I love hearing that story.  And now, I get to be as close as I want, anytime I want, and I love having that.

Happy Anniversary Baby
Our First Dance...Our Song
Citizen Cope "Sideways"
Could not have been any happier!

Ps. The new corner, in my living room...


Wednesday, November 16, 2011

and so it turns out...

I was at work not too long ago, and a few people were asking how long I had been married, and I was all like, "almost 4 years...", all sure of myself and everything.  I didn't even notice it was completely wrong and incorrect until I was asked again, in front of Paige, my co-worker/friend, and she was all like, "what?, uh, it will be 3 years, not 4, what's wrong with you?".  Oops, turns out, she is absolutely right, I don't know what's wrong with me, I was pregnant with Adan when I walked down the aisle, I'm a dumb ass sometimes, I suare.  My schedule allows for tons of things, but some things are placed on the back burner, and those things when starting to accumulate left over charcoal, get addressed...warranting a different kind of fire be lit, if you get what I mean (wink wink).  Our official anniversary is November 22nd, however, my job is not anniversary friendly this year, so our schedule allotted us this past weekend to celebrate. I boast often about my husband, not to blow artificial steam up his ass.  However, I boast about my husband, because when you have one as good as mine, I at times can't believe it.  I mean, I know I'm literally living it, but audibly repeating my experiences is the only way to artificially pinch myself.

Long story short, Marcus planned a surprise for me/us, and the surprise was "Chicago".  It was about the sweetest thing he has done.  And he has done many, even though we have only been married 3 years in a week or so, we have had a long history of spending many an anniversary together.  Marcus got me and my MOH a hotel night before the wedding at Hotel Palomar-Dallas, and then we stayed there again our wedding night.  Deciding to make it a tradition, we have stayed there every year since (woohoo, a whopping two times, haha).  So when I found out where we were going, at the airport, I was thinking, "man, he is so sweet, but we are already breaking our tradition"...knowing all to well what effort he had gone through to keep it a secret, hiding funds so I wouldn't take notice and then making arrangements for Adan.  So you can imagine the feeling I had when we were driving from the airport and then observing the cab pull in front of nothing other than, Hotel Palomar-Chicago.  I was blown away, it was everything for me to not cry in the cab, and if you know me, I'm a crier and it was EVERYTHING for me not to.  Our trip was short, but so great.  Reminds me of how great Dallas is, but for completely different reasons, it also reminds me of how great Dallas is not, but for completely different reasons.  I am not good at offering advice regarding where to go, what to see, critiquing restaurants, etc...but what I can say is, that every place my husband picked for our itinerary, yes itinerary-he planned everything, was just awesome.

SkyDeck @ Willis Tower
(it actually took me the third try to step out without shaking, I'm kind of a wimp-don't tell)
Drinks @ Shaw's & Music @ Blues Chicago
(Marcus and I miss blues in Dallas so much, our favorite spot closed down long ago, and miss it so)
First Lady of Chicago
(boat right on Chicago River, admiring the architecture and history of this great city)
El Frijol
(any way Marcus and I can turn something Mexican, we will)
Sound Bar
(remember when I said that I'm not good at advising on places when visited, I recall that comment, temporarily, and absolutely and positively advise against going here, SUCKS)
Navy Pier
(windy city lived up to it's name here)
Hotel Palomar-Chicago
(our pouty faces because we were leaving...would have shown more pictures from our hotel, but those are just for Marcus and I ;-) )
 
Many bonuses on this trip, one was getting a chance to almost see Jessica, and then, when we went to Blue Man Group, while awaiting our entrance, I saw someone that looked awful familiar...had to text Jessica to make sure it was her, and turns out I was right.  What a small world, I saw Allison.  Allison is a great friend of Holly's, and about 12 years ago or so, when I was single and younger, Holly shared her with me a couple of times, and I haven't seen her since sitting at Cock-n-Bull, oh yea, except for Holly's wedding, but that didn't count, because we had to leave at 9pm :-(

My post this week was supposed to be so incredible, I had one of those nights when clever and incredibly witty comments and story ideas were all in my brain just waiting to be jotted down for later.  So when I went for my phone, I quickly remembered that I have a BB now and lost my other phone and can't jot it down like I could before.  Our "sound bar" night, I texted Marcus all my funny remarks, and I was reminded of how funny he is, he would respond back and write super clever one liners back, it became a flirty game that night, totally worth sharing, and it's coming, but for now, this will have to do.

Ya'll, Thanksgiving is next week!!!  What tha...

Ps. Guess what we got to come home to?
Marcus and I, when we get the chance to be alone, try super hard to not talk like parents, but as lovers, friends and partners, it is hard.  We have a great baby, and are lucky to share together in our passion for all things Adan.  We did a pretty good job of just being "us" this past weekend, but one thing we both agreed on and pretended wasn't riding on the horizon often, was the beating desire we both had to get home and scoop this child up.
 

Sunday, November 6, 2011

in typical fashion...

I wish that I could say that what I'm about to say is so not like me, but the truth is I am super irresponsible and super careless with anything that costs money.  I remember being pregnant and thinking, "how am I going to do this baby/mother thing?" when I can't even organize my own life.  Truth be told, that seems to still be the case, however, when it comes to organizing other peoples lives, I'm pretty amazing.  My kids stuff, no problem...my husbands stuff...no problem...my work, DONE!!!  I just can't seem to grab the same grip on my own damn life.  I wish I could say that it only happens once in a while, but the truth is, it happens at least once a day, with a varying degree of importance.  Now, with all that said, I am going to punish myself, I mean, at least I am going to try to, let's see how long that lasts.

It was my 11th phone lost, you know, since the smart phone became all the rage.  Everything was on that phone, everything was also on the phone I lost before, phumph (that's me spitting between my lips in annoyance, in case you were wondering how to sound it out!). I'm really annoyed at myself because, not only do I not have a working PC aside from my darling husbands work lappy, I hate blackberry's, and that is what I have saddled into, against my wishes of course, but looking a gift horse in the mouth isn't an option right now.

I have hit a bit of a plateau with my weight loss, it's been about 20lbs or so, and that's amazing, right?  It's really not, but I have to tell myself it is, because...because...because, that is what everyone tells me I should be doing.  When you have, I don't know, about 60lbs or so to go, 20lbs doesn't seem like much of an accomplishment.

I would have blogged by now about my Halloween festivities, except that I already have, MY PHONE IS GONE!!!  There, that's all that damn holiday is getting. :-(

RiRi was in town again, and yes, some of you may be thinking RiRi sure does visit Ese'me Street a lot for being British lived, yes, yes he does.  He is very fortunate to live the life of a world traveler, and we are even more fortunate to have him on one of his top 5 favorite places to stay.  One day, ONE DAY, I will get another stamp, Marcus is promising me a trip to Austria to ski and Australia to sun bathe, I'm holding my breath, because luckily for me my husband always follows through on his promises.

You know when you run into old friends, the ones that you were once super close with, but time and life changing experiences have drifted you apart?  The foundation you once layed still exists, however the roots have traveled into different areas in the ground, but if you trace it back, you'll quickly find your way home?  That's how I felt last night at my Holly's wedding, I call her my Holly, knowing all to well she isn't, because it always makes me feel like we are where we were 17 years ago.  I can actually remember one of our first conversations in Chemistry about how I told her only rich girls had binders like she did, hahahaha...  Spending endless days at her house, eating Salisbury Steak and Tater Tot TV dinners on end, me continuing to find ways to set her house alarm off and making her get in trouble over it, finding unmentionables in her mothers closet, over hearing wave crashing and seagull singing soft music coming from her parents room--knowing all too well what that meant!!!  Last night as I witnessed Holly recite her vows I was giggling in my seat, because she was having trouble repeating back the officiants vows, and I was quickly taken back to a memory of the two of us...It was our junior year, and Holly was having trouble remembering "Fæder úre..."  I on the other hand had a knack for memorization and we were behind the gym in front of the art portable, and no matter how slow or how minimal my words were, she just couldn't repeat back to me what I had said.  We were out there forever, but eventually we marched up to Ms. Fortner's classroom, and I stayed outside holding vigil for my friend, and she did it...she passed.  In true Holly fashion, she aced last nights exam too, except this time her reward is forever with Erich.  I am so happy that my friend has found happiness.  I was lucky enough to meet Erich when Holly and him were like on their 2nd date or so, and to see them now committed to one another like they have, is awesome.  I love her too much, and I am so excited for the journey she is on now.  Below is a picture of Lindsey, another oldy but goody, she is also an all time favorite friend, and then there is Jessica, I have known her all of my life, (her and my middle sister used to place soccer together like when they were 5), and Holly is very lucky to have her as her right hand wo'man.

Lindsey, Me, Holly, Jessica
(you know, after we took this pic, we all revised it knowing it would end up on sombodys blog, and we ALL approved, oh Jess)

I'm trying really hard to be the best person I can be, it is tough, I mean really tough...which got me thinking, am I not as good as I thought I was once?  I am a self proclaimed bully, I expect a lot out of people and am very difficult.  I would like to think that once the chance to get to know me has ceased, I'm a good force to be reckoned with and love is the only fragment left. Holly's dad asked Marcus last night if he was taking good care of me, and Marcus said "I'm trying", and Ron said, "it's a full time job, this one".  And I guess that is probably the most accurate statement there is, it is true, I am a full time job, however, I reap many a benefit.

Ps. I used to blog only from my phone, and it made it super easy for me to post...now that my phone is missing and only a blackberry is left, ugh, I will blog when I can, which means...I will blog when I can. 

Pss. I was just about to hit "publish post", when I heard some glass breaking, I get up only to find a frame of Adan had fallen and broken. Marcus is putting in a new window in Adan's room, and he has been at it all afternoon.  One of the many wishes that I have had for my son, is to recognize a "fixer" in his father.  And in my attempt to pick up the pieces on the floor, Adan says "noooo, mommy, leavey lone, daddy fizit".  My heart warms with happiness.

Friday, October 28, 2011

masquerading anyone...

Any memory worth making deserves an animal print back drop, my outfit for tonight

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

for what?...

The holidays are right around the corner and I in particular have them all jacked up. For the sake of this post, Halloween shall be bundled in. I haven't had a Halloween off in four years, present year included. I have always had Christmas Eve and Christmas off. Yup, not so much this year, and I sure as hell haven't had a New Years Eve off...this is how my year end will go...

Work Halloween
Work Thanksgiving
Off Christmas Eve
Work Christmas
Off New Years Eve
Work New Years Day

The light at the end of my tunnel through the holiday season has always been the shiny green lining (the major bank I get for Holiday pay!!).

I started a new job. It's been so great and not so great all in the same. I left Parkland a while back, sucks really because the idea of that place is the reason I went to work there, however the way it is run, and the management in the unit I had in particular, is sitting so very near to the right hand of Satan, it's scary. Sometimes the intent people have is pure, however the delivery and manner in which it is given can over shadow and kill the purpose. Every nurse on that unit could have painted them a picture, acted out a scene, dressed in ultraviolet colors and tattooed the issues and potential resolutions on their dang foreheads, and their obligatory response shall we say would and always was..."our hands are tied." Welp, here is my hand tied...ever so securely around a much larger paycheck, more support and an environment that appreciates and advocates largely for the people that make the place run. Finely, to be on a winning team. Kinda nice. The not so great part is that I am new, and I'm still learning. Leaving a place that was cake and coming to a place that isn't, yet...is tough. But in 6 months, my view shall and will have changed.

Nearly 20 lbs or so ago, I was dreaming of the "damn", and on my way home today, I kinda got one. I use the word kinda because I wasn't quite sure if he was "damn'n" at me for my hottness, or because I just kinda sorta almost killed him with my swift driving skills, eek.

I really hate my next door neighbors, for many reasons. Hate, it is such a strong word, but man!!! Partly because the kids have a mom who sleeps all the time and ignores her kids, let's them run rampant...oh crap, kinda sounds like me. Well maybe not completely, but she drives me crazy, maybe because she is my virtual mirror. Bitch. (Ps. I don't sleep all the time, just kinda wish I could, am I alone in that?) I really gotta get this house done so we can move back to Dallas, I almost ran over one of those damn kids today...a little human bowling always makes for a fun evening.

Ok, so look it, I think I'm kind of a drama queen. I know I know, some of "you's" may already know that, however, I think I'm ready to accept it, finally. I will listen to music and literally jump into the song, I pretend I'm the jilted bride, the over the top in love man's girlfriend, the broken hearted lover, etc. I go as far as to make believe the part, I dive into character, you'd think I was auditioning or something, gaah...I'm all of the above, kinda embarrassing, however, I continue to do it. What does that mean? I remember dating Marcus, and fighting with him over dumb crap, you know the, "you don't love me...are we ever gonna get married...I'm not having sex with you anymore, it's wrong, we should wait till we get married, so, when are we getting married...if you don't change, I'm breaking up with you", just me? And then the climactic reconciliation after a day or so was like crack to the bare foot pregnant feener. It was such a glorious high for me to have "it" feel fresh and new again. I'm 31 years old and I still search for it that way, in more suttle ways of course...I've come to the conclusion that I'm a song jumper, and that is okay with me. Song jumping yields a better and safer high than marriage jumping.

In a quick rehash of the fair photos via my Canon AE1, I realized that Big Tex wears Dickies. He's so cool.

I really want to do something fantastic for New Years Eve. Something real grown up like. I would love to book a fancy dinner with friends, then head over to a fancy party, where I can check my coat, and I'm greeted with champagne. Then the waiter passing out hors d'oeuvres would compliment my gown, and whisper in my ear, "if I wasn't gay I would hit on you". You know, something pearl clenching worthy. ;-)

RiRi is here again, excited Ese'me Street is. You know, I have always tried pulling off a Yoda sentence, and I think I just did. And in an effort to not ruin my moment, I'm done for the night.

Buenas Noches mi gente.
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Thursday, October 20, 2011

just because...

Because a woman needn't a reason to buy fabulous, walk stunning and feel the way she was meant to look

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Tuesday, October 18, 2011

la feria y él big tex...

I remember going to weddings, quinceañeras, parties, etc...and my mom and dad both would just sit back and watch us girls. From time to time I would approach them and ask, "aren't yall bored?", and with assurance they both would say, "no, we have so much fun just sitting here watching you girls". Didn't get it then, but I sure do get it now. My son allowed me to experience fun in a whole new way and I want to receive it this way always.





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Monday, October 17, 2011

a step in the right direction...

I'm definetly not the type of woman that when discovering a good trick or a new and yummy product, shares. I've sorta always been that way. As a matter of fact, if someone compliments me on my perfume and asks what it is, I'll usually lie so they won't smell as good as me, mean I know, but I cant help it. I don't like telling my beauty secrets, not that there's many, but nonetheless, I've never liked sharing, never have. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I am very self aware, but that isn't necessarily a good thing unless that awareness results in a change, and this here shall be my tiny contribution in that dreadful, yet anticipated and much needed change, no?

I am a lover of eye make-up, I'm known for the dark eyes, on many levels, and nude lip, just my thang. I'm also a firm believer in priming your face like a motha, so my face is straight for at least 12hrs. With that said it's always a pain to take off my make-up, honestly, I'll often times (more than I care to admit) sleep in it, forcing my pillow to carry the burden of buffering my chore in the morning, when the sink revels in the aftermath. Needless to say, I have found my new best friend, and this is my endorsement. My sidenote is, although this may be common knowledge to many, it is new to me, so suck it.
Before...
After...
Que Celine Dion's "Because of you..."



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Wednesday, October 12, 2011

time can be your friend...

This is my space. This tiny 8.5 x 11 "sheet", and I guess depending on how much I got to say, it can definitely be larger, but I think you get the idea, is all mine. I get to fill it up as I choose.

I wasn't always a Christian. I was born of flesh, lived as flesh without knowing any different. I gave my life to the Lord when I was a little girl. I was at church with my family, and they excused the kids to children's church and I didn't want to go. So I stayed with my parents. They played a video and I watched it. At the end, they had what is commonly known as a time of invitation, and I nudged my mom and told her I wanted to go up to the front because I wanted to accept Jesus. Long story short, I did that evening and later committed to baptism. I chose to follow God out of fear because I didn't want to be left behind, like the video showed. I was scared and wanted to go with God. A lot of my life after that has been reliving that moment in my head. I actually at times doubted if the reasoning for my commitment was enough. What does a little girl know about God and His son Jesus? And do you know what kills me...what I most fondly remember?...the fear I felt. I don't remember the love, I don't remember the desire, the coming to Jesus moment everyone later speaks of, I don't remember that. I knew what choice I had made, I even remember being baptized when I was a little older. Could I really appreciate and totally understand what Jesus had done for me? Probably not. Now as an adult, and having been very lucky to grow in Gods word through the bible, I understand the love, I understand the desire that God wanted in marrying His existence with mine.

When you become a parent, your child has no clue what kind of sacrifices you would make for them, nothing will stop you from being supportive, loving, understanding and an unconditional support for them. Your child on the other hand has no clue what substantial amount of love there is for them, all they know is that someone is always there for them, providing for them and protecting them. It's that simple and that basic. The older they get, the more they begin to see and understand. That same growth in learning for my worldy parents I eventually had and understood is ultimately the same growth in learning that I have had for my Heavenly Father. That same promise He had for me as a little girl exists still, and is alive in me. Now as a grown up I understand that the fear I had in me wasn't the kind of fear where you're backed into a corner and forced to choose, or else, however the fear was rooted in the possibility that I could be forever without Him.

As I've mentioned before in other posts, I am a very, VERY picky when it comes to public speaking and especially when it comes to picking a church, I need a certain type of speaker behind the pulpit. Just a personal preference, and in case you're wondering my speaker of choice is expository. I never knew that it was called that, all I knew was that I really enjoy when a pastor preaches from the bible, chronologically and references present day to make it relateable. I am not a fan of, what I like to call "topic" preachers, those that pick a topic to preach about, then go and find versus in the bible to support it. If you are familiar with the word of God, there are many staple statements, popular to mention a few and many, infinite amounts really, that need the preface to see the picture and point in its entirety. Our generation, present company included of course, have become a breeding of casual Christians, and no true accountability exists within our pastors. The obligation to lead a church and its people is one to not be taken lightly and used as a never ending opportunity of teach. I think that is why I feel so strongly about their gift to have the attention of many and to take stories in its entirety and TEACH it chronologically. The bible is His commandments for us and it should be used as our only reference.

I called my dad last night because I couldn't remember for the life of me where this particular verse in the bible was, I remember being in Sunday school as a kid, and then even older and hearing this particular verse as well. I've even heard it preached from the pulpit. It is a common one at that, but I couldn't remember where it was and I can always count on my dad to know. I also just didn't want to put this verse out there and then not give a proper set up. It's the new testament, and Jesus is in the thick of it with His disciples. In this particular portion in this chapter the disciples are asking Jesus, who will rank highest when in heaven. You have to understand the foundation of who Christ is, He was sent to earth to teach and to be the ultimate salvation, in the time where he was immersed with His disciples they were extremely inquisitive and came into contact with situations that gave Jesus the perfect platform to inform them and teach them. This was one of those times. So they asked Him who will be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven,

And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, "Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
Matthew 18:2-4 NASB

I challenge you to read this to see what Jesus was truly saying. I have the New American Standard Version, but there are many to choose from, that however is what I like and in reading, it's easier for me to comprehend.

I was just telling my dad yesterday as we found it, him really, that in my search for it, I read over a few chapters in John thinking it was in there, and man, MAN...I forget how alive the bible becomes when I read it. I am one of those casual Christians that needs a kick in the face for taking advantage of what God has done for me, shame on me. I don't need to question my commitment made as a little girl. What I need to do, is truly be grateful that I accepted the simplicity of Gods love and remember that it was my innocence as a child that brought me to His lap.
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Friday, October 7, 2011

it was only a matter of time...

This blog posting is about 12 hours late. For some reason it wasn't posting last night before I went to bed. So...you get the idea.
My little boy is to die for. We went to the Bishop Lynch football game tonight, aside from him loving football, he loves his JuJu...that is his older cousin, and he might as well hang the moon too. Here is a tiny video of this precious Friar fan in the stands.

I have been way past due for a blog update, and have so much to talk about. I may not cover everything now, however it will come out sooner than later.

I talked to God today, and this is what I told him, "God, thank You for always fulfilling Your promises, shame on us for expecting more, Your love is immeasurable. We are only human and stealthy in faults, thank you now, for revealing to us Your plan. Your patience and will, although ever consistent, always seems to be a variable for us. And knowing that, in spite of that, You continue to always provide. We thank you for giving a new life." All prayer is, is a conversation with God, and eventhough I do it often throughout the day, I still fall short of His unceasing desire. What I can say for certainty is, God is good all the time, all the time God is good.

Had a great dinner yesterday evening with three great friends. One of which is my bestie, Cindy. My other dear friend Jenni, who also happens to be Cindy's sister, and then there is little Debi. Deborah is a true gem, she got engaged and we are all so excited for them both. Jenni and I arrived at Victor Tangos for drinks and some appetizers, which by the way, if you haven't eaten there before, the ahi tuna nachos = amazing, anyways, we get there first and just get right into it. One topic in particular that we both tended to pay much attention to was motherhood. Basically, for about 2 and a half years now, um, I don't know, only since Adan was born or so, I have felt like a terrible mother. I mean, the type of mother that is again, just glazing. I reference SATC 2 here because I not only think it's fitting but almost perfectly aligned with what I have carried with me since my bugga boo was cut from my tummy. The scene where Miranda and Charlotte heart to heart it out regarding the difficulties of mothering struck such an emotional cord with me it burns. It is so heavy. I am a nurse, in case you don't know, I work nights, and yes, as amazing as this profession afforded me my child face to face time with his mommy all day everyday, it also afforded me fatigue and exhaustion. I am tired about 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. It's pretty safe to say, that I'm only about 40% available to my kid. That really sucks. Why is it so hard for me, and so easy for Marcus? In the same place where this feeling of inadequacy lives, also resides jealousy and envy. Let me elaborate. My husband, as I've mentioned before always saves the day. Adan only wants Marcus now, and it is the biggest upset since Tony Romo's last game...no wait...the one before that...no wait, um, it's only as big an upset as his career, yea, that's more like it. Adan has officially grasped the difference between quality versus quantity. Many a day before, since he was born really, all he saw was me. When he was hungry, bam, it was my boob, thus my face he saw...when he was dirty, bam, it was me that changed it because I was there in the day, and it was my face that he saw, etc...So when he was upset, or desired a parent, I was the one winning. Made me so happy, not even thinking of how it might have made my mate feel. My, have those tables turned. Now that he is older he could care less that I am around more, what he cares about is the quality of time we spend together and I'm not gonna lie, I pretty much suck at it. Marcus on the other hand is my saviour and pretty much my son's shiny star. He gets home from work, can manage to put a load of laundry in, start dinner, play with Adan, love me and not even break a sweat. I on the other hand, can't even sweep the floor if Adan is around, much less surface enough energy to drive him to the park, especially if I worked the night before. He has learned who loves him best, and right now it's Daddy. Pretty depressed about it, and that of course just accumulates onto the already existing guilt. I am not the mother I thought I would be, and it is ripping me apart.

I am pissed right now, fortunately for me, I have other issues too, lucky me. I have let my ass get hella large, literally. The kinda ass that warrants a "damn!" The kind of damn that precedes an "oh my God", with an accompanying shake of the head. I however, have started in the path to warrant a "damn!" The kind of damn that precedes an "oh my God", and a half bite of the lower lip with a lil eye squinting. In case you are wondering, that's the good kind. 14.5lbs and counting baby.

I have so much more to say and my fingers hurt, but Marcus is all "damn!" The kind of damn that precedes an "oh my God", with the "are you blogging look?" In case you are wondering, that's the bad kind. As in, "get off the phone, it is time to spoon." And since I am a lover of all things food related. I'm out.

Until next time.
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Monday, September 26, 2011

the beginning...

...Waking up in the middle of the night, it was hot, she was wet and she was nine. How was she supposed to know that the lady smooshed up next to her all night, wasn't supposed to pee on her? How was she supposed to know that when she cried in the middle of the night because it was dark and crowded, that there was a bed somewhere someday waiting for her? How was she supposed to know that running as fast as you could because "la migra" was coming, was not the normal for a young girl who had never even seen the inside of a book? How was she supposed to know that crossing the river every night to work, would later serve as a catalyst, pioneering the crossing of all her kin?

My grandparents had just moved north and money was scarce, but word had traveled that there was money to be made just across the river. She was nine years old, the oldest of three kids and she was a cotton picker. Her white nap sack itched, it was heavy and it was her conduit to survive. She filled that sack with cotton day after day, and night after night, she slept outside, risking her life for change...

That is just a sample of my book for my momma. I am so lucky to have an indigenous culture within me, even more fortunate to have the ability to search for its beginning. Her beginning is my beginning, my beginning will belong to my kids, and their kids...we all have a beginning that we hope will one day be told as an example of our greatness and our accomplishments. I hope that the life that I have created for myself is satisfactory and worth the struggle my momma made in coming to América.
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Friday, September 16, 2011

the pleasure has been all mine...

Tío RiRi came in town from London and we are very happy he's here. Adan just loves him so much. They always have such a great time together. Ever since Marcus fashioned a baby blanket into a cape, Adan thinks he is superman. And Tío RiRi will always join in on the fun...no matter what it is.

Work, it just gets in the way sometimes, but sometimes it can be super fun. Like when you run into an old friend from college in a defects lecture, and then quickly realize that he will be your co-worker. I am so excited.

I started my DVR sessions with my mom, in case I haven't mentioned it, I am writing a book about her. I haven't really decided what the foundation will be, but I know she has an incredible story to tell and I am one eager audience ready to listen.

Adan has officially hit the ground running with this preschool thing. He is really having a good time. But I can't help but feel like I'm kinda in school too. We had parent's night before it started and I was sitting there nervous, wondering if any parent would want to get to know me at all, or if I would leave this semester with new friends too. I'm such a loser.

I got to see my dear, sweet and loving, best girlfriend in all the land yesterday. It has been way too long. The sad part is, as we left dinner and a bit of girl shopping and headed back to her house, we both pulled out our date books/phones, and attempted to coordinate another time for us to chat...and we came up with nothing for like a month or so. Sad huh? Damn that work, getting in the way again. I love you Cindy, I'm calling Ms. Johnson, and IT WILL GET DONE!!!
Ps...look what I bought for New Years...

Gotta go now, Adan has fallen asleep and I must nap too...again, work, getting in the way...duty calls tonight.

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Sunday, September 11, 2011

been pretty amazing...

So I started working nights again, and can I just say...yay!!! Man, have I missed that schedule. It's the only schedule that afforded me every single day of Adan's life to be forever shared with just his momma and dada. I have been very lucky in choosing this profession. Many of those reasons are...

I only work 12 days a month

I have gotten to raise my precious angel and see him every single day

If I get bored, guess what? I have the biggest opportunity to do whatever else and still be a nurse

Oh yea, and did I mention I only work 12 days a month???

Marcus and I want to extend our family, and we almost did, but miscarried a bit ago. Now that I think my womb has sufficiently healed and my heart is sufficiently ready to potentially carry the emotional ride that is being pregnant with a toddler, IT IS TIME! I mean, I am marking calendar ovu time and everything. I'm trying to figure out if that is gonna be a good idea or if we should just let momma nature handle it. Whatever the case may be we are ready for another child and hope that it happens soon. Happy sex to us.
On another note, we went to the Ranger game today and had a wonderful time. My family makes me the happiest girl



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Friday, September 2, 2011

Just a piece of my heart...

This lil boy started Preschool at Fielder Rd. BC yesterday
This lil boy didn't even cry when he said goodbye
This lil boy cried when we went to pick him up
This lil boy is growing up way too fast

 
Remember when I said that I feel like I'm just glazing?
Remember when I said that I didn't know if I was doing it right?
His face, his heart, his everything solidifies the only thing that is absolutely, unequivocally correct and in order in my life!


Dear Adan,
I have never in my life imagined a more precious life. I never in my life imagined that it could get as good as it is when we are together. You are the most enjoyable piece of sugar to my heart. Mommy was never the same after she met you. I hope you know that the past two years of your life, the last two years of my life, have been the best two years of my life. Thank you for letting me be your mommy.

Love you more than you will ever know,
Mom

Sunday, August 21, 2011

it is what it is...

I haven't decided how this whole blogging thing works, or if there really is a rule for that matter. Sometimes when I'm trying to decide what to write, I literally have a conversation with myself in my head. I tell myself about the struggle to decide and tell myself how I don't think I'm doing it right. And then me tells me that in order for your blog to be successful it must be consistent regarding all things readable. I must make sure to blog on the same day, and the topic should overlap somehow and ride the same theme. And then I stop my know it all self and say, shut up, you don't know shit, I'll write about what I want and when I want and so that is what this is.

I really hate my popcorn ceilings.

I have surrendered myself to the truth that is...no, God did not make me this way...the TRUTH is, the glorious body He gave me has disappeared and some fat chick is boss now, as a direct result of negligent "templing" (as I like to call it when referencing my direct avoidance in dishonoring my temple and pure obsession with gluttony).

My engagement ring is broken, I'm really sad about it too, sometimes I'll look at it and think about, "what if Marcus had never given this to me?", and then I'm quickly reminded that we dated for 5 years, and nearly strangled him to the idea that marriage was next. And if he hadn't handed that sucker over, I would have surely handed him my foot in his face. Or something less suttle. Just sayn.

My husband is out with his buds tonight, and the older I get the less I care. I was never the jealous type. Look, it is a true emotion we all have, however, the wife or girlfriend that gets or shall I say, acts jealous, has never been me. And I notice now, its even less of a bother, mentally.

I want another baby.

I am a member of Pinterest, and suck at it.

My little boy got a real bed today, and I can't believe I glazed over it like it wasn't a big deal. It's a huge deal, sometimes I feel like I am just glazing. Am I doing this right? Yes, I breastfed for a year, yes my son was potty trained at 21 months, yes, he sleeps in his own bed, and always has, etc...but the other stuff, the non tasking mother stuff, am I doing it right? My little boy amazes me everyday and sometimes I feel like his accomplishments are the, my, expectation and not a milestone where true, honest and loving acknowledgment is due. I gotta get it together.

I miss soccer so much. I have never been able to watch it on tv and really enjoy it. If I can't play it, I don't want any part of it. Stupid I know.

I really got to get over the thinking that I'm the only one that knows how to do it right. My inability to allow others to help me is just plain sad.

Cooking, I mean seriously. Really? Why must I be so bad at it, and secondly, why must it be such a necessity?

I tell people that my mom used to tell me that a little man lived in my ear and when I would fall asleep he would come out, walk to the inner part of my eye and poop there, when asking about eye boogers. As if my mother was creative enough to come up with that...why? Why, lie about that? I'm pathetic.

I blog from my phone only.

Mi vida es totalmente todo lo que mis sueños presentaban. Y todo se lo regalo a Cristo. (Get'cher translating on...)



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Tuesday, August 9, 2011

how much is enough...





My husband is back in town. Marcus was gone for 2 whole weeks. For those of you that don't know, my husband is in the airline industry and he travels about 2 to 3 times out of the year, and when he does it's overseas. This time it was Germany and Austria. Having him away means many things.

1. Adan discovers how much cooler and funner his daddy is than his mommy.

2. I quickly realize all those silly fights we have as parents, spouses, etc...are quiet the funny joke on me really, because the truth is, I can't do it alone and yea, I would miss him. Love u babe.

3. My parents are true saviors. They would do anything for their family, including putting up with an overbearing daughter and her super ooober cute kid.

4. House work, outside the home, really does belong to my mate.

5. Sex is kinda lonely when it's a party for one, love making is truly meant to be between two.

6. Always, always hoping that a little brown bag would be escorting my lover on the plane ride home.

7. Trading off the warmth of his toosh when we sleep for killer miles...thank you bizzyness class. Hola.

8. Awaiting the inevitable arguement we'll have before he leaves...like clock work...every time.

9. The smell, THE SMELL. Let me all just inform you of a little something I like to call..."um, excuse me, but my man never smells", (as in bad)...I'm about to totally cross the line here, but I feel it's justified, besides my only two followers are girls, and there's only two of you..he NEVER smells, never! I have been with him for almost ten years and have been with him, you know what I'm saying...NEVER, even when he's been in his man place mentally or physically, never. The only thing my baby has piercing through his juicy pores, is lush. He is so Yummy...and I'm reminded every time he leaves.

10. The burden is on me. My husband, Marcus Sais, I love you so much. You have provided me a place to live out my dreams, a place where I can be me, a place where I don't have to worry about what anyone thinks because our family is what matters and you have created a safe place for your big and little baby to nest. When you are not with us, our lives are empty, you make our life so much fun, and you make me feel like the responsibility of our life is shared when you truly carry it alone. You protect us, and when you are away, I am alone with that and become aware of how wonderful you are at making us feel safe.
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Sunday, July 17, 2011

they say it's your birthday...

We had a great time today celebrating RiRi's birthday. Steaks, crab and cakey, oh my! We hung out at our house, and hosted a family affair. Adan woke up from his nap and I and Marcus took him outside to play with his new chalk set. He never asks for anything, as a matter of fact, if we are at a store and he holds on to a toy the entire trip, as we head for the register, like clock work, we await the "wait, put toy back"... statement. He is an amazing boy. Mucho tension at Ese'me Street, so below when reading, think of family as opposed to a relationship. I have an amazing brother in you Richard, and I love you very much. This is for you.

What are we doing these days to stay
Away from the anger that breeds here today
Time keeps on ticking and waits for no one
I'm constantly left with feelings that stun
How could it be, we aren't even close
To finding the piece of the puzzle that's broke

One day soon I will leave you behind
And never look back wishing I had the time
To make up for all of the gaps that create
Ripples of emotions that can eventually brake
The bond that we have is only the start
To an ending that's immenent, we both will embark.

Never look back is a phrase over used
When times like these are more than a few
Trusting in you to follow through on your word
Showing symptoms of sickness that surfaces burns
It's never enough, until one of us learns
To love unconditionally like when we first birthed







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Sunday, July 3, 2011

somebody has already paid...

At church this morning we had a guest speaker. Steve Russell, he is/was a Leutinent Col. (I abbreviate the big COL here because I don't know how to spell it) for the military, Army I think, anyways he was the guest speaker this morning. Kind of an important guy, his team captured Sadaam. Let me preface this by saying how stoked I was to hear this guy, Marcus and I both, we went as far as to leave the service we normally sit in, walk down the hall, sneak in late, finding out he'd be live down the hall versus the television feed we'd get where we were.

Introductions made, small chat, funny first liners and a bit of how do ya's later, he began. Right off the bat, appearance, manners, etc, this guy was all military, his gift to speak wasn't great, of which I gathered quickly, however, resume wise, it was one of the first things shouted out as a vice. I'm picky, REAL, picky when it comes to public speaking so maybe I was a bit hard on the guy, but he still didn't carry the medal like many do. His testimony was incredible. It was professionally an achievement that is simply unattainable to most and mastered by the finite few. Needless to say, many a shout out to the Lord was made, he is a Christian man, and spoke of his coming to Christ moment, a small window of time that he elongated only through the grace of God (my words, not his).

Here is an opportunity for my own bait and catch...many have experienced God's love and mercy and others will die saying they never have. Some, many even, are given a chance to experience it again. Steve, as I like to call it, only by observing from a pew of course, was lucky enough to elongate his original intro to Jesus, and reconvene with him at a later time.

The story was long, informative and interesting in the least, but like all war stories I've heard post our official July 4th independence win, you know, THE BIG ONE where America was freed as a nation, it was CONFUSING! Is it just me or haven't we already been freed?

Our old timers spent many a time gifting to us the opportunity we have now. Why do people continue to reference the old saying, "fighting for our freedom", when regarding our present war, or any war since then as if we are not free and the war in Afgani (that's what I like to call it, and yes, the Kardashians make ploy to the same thing-shortening words, whatever, but I have been doing it way before them hoochies were on the tube) is about that? Catching Sadaam and/or Osama, won't make me any freer. I get it people, Lt. Col. Russell, yes, at first glance a gal like me would audio back as a cynical, mean spirited, a lone ranger in my choice of words I'm sure. But aren't I more so of a realist then anything? America's freedom isn't going anywhere, nor has it. However, what we may in fact be doing is taking other's freedom away by intercepting the countries leaders freedom to dictate any way he wants. Do I agree with, support, honor or appreciate the other side here, absolutely not. I'm just trying to make the point that America is already free, stop saying, "our troops are fighting for our freedom", and say it the right way, "our troops are fighting back against those that invade and attempt to cause us harm". My sister's will take great offense to this and say I'm just playing semantics. But by definition, isn't all I'm doing just trying to express myself through language? Now, with all that said, I know that this kind of jib jab will strike a cord somewhere or with someone, (my sisters) so let me leave you with just a tid bit of quirky but very true information, you know, just to perk things up a bit.

1. I have been couponing like a mother recently only to discover I kinda suck at it, but in an effort to use one at lunch, we had a munching fest at the one and only Big O (Olive Garden). We sat next to one of those "old timers" who had a Korean War hat on, not one of the "oficiales", but nonetheless someone we think about when veterans are mentioned, and one of Mr. Russell's closing comments was to thank the next veteran you see for, you guessed it, OUR FREEDOM. As if anyone from 1776, is still around, sheesh. Contrary to any gut feeling I had to do the complete opposite, I swallowed that bullet, and thanked the son of a gun for OUR FREEDOM. And do u know what that old timer said, "what freedom?, we had that already darlin, stupid Truman was just plain nosey!"

2. Then he proceeds to tell me that technically the Korean War continues since no treaty was ever signed.

3. Happy Fourth of July.

Ok, so maybe 1 & 2 didn't happen, but here's to hoping 3 does. Gobble Gobble, no wait, that's Thanksgiving, oops.
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Friday, July 1, 2011

I'm too proud...

We went to the Maná Concert last night for Marcus' Father's Day gift and while we were there it became very clear to me how I am in desperate need of Mexican friends.

Hello, my name is Mónica Isela Sais de Águilar. I was born to Susano Águilar, Jr. de Villalon and Antonia Águilar de Alba. I am first generation American on my mother's side and 5th generation American on my dad's. My parents tried really hard to make sure we grew up with the best that they could provide and looking back now, through no direct fault of their own, we were sheltered. Not the kind of sheltered you think, however, sheltered from exploring who we really were. Don't get me wrong, spanish was and still is my first language, but that is the extent of it. My daddy worked outside the home and my mommy was a stay at home mother, she was responsible for our activities, school enrollment, etc. This all from a woman who knew absolutely no English and had a second grade education from a poverty striken country. How she managed to always have us in vacation bible school, arts and crafts at the local community center, enroll us in school, Dr's appts, soccer, is a mystery. You name it and we did it. The desire my parents, but probably more so my mom, had for their children to have more than they had spilled over immensely into the way they raised us. It wasn't until just this past week in talking with her that I think I really got it. We were talking about her upbringing and what it was like for her growing up hearing about this place called "América", and how she was told about this idea of true possibility, the idea that she would be considered fair, the idea that her life could be different, that the life of her children who weren't even on the horizon could have this place that appeared so dreamy and at their finger tips, it was a tangiblity that she needed.

A 25 year old Mexican woman with a burning desire to learn braved her own river wild and attempted to live out her predestined future. My mother was unsuccessful once at crossing the Rio Grande River, but a champion of never giving up. She was sent back immediately and returned later with falsified documents stating that she was an American, the shear idea that she was now "Rosa Muñoz", didn't matter because she was about to fulfill her destiny.

The details about how her and my father met, how she later naturalized and how us three girls were thought up is for a later time. My mom and dad, again probably more so my mom since her influence and time was the majority, reared us based on what they knew. My mother knew that America was full of beautiful white people who lived in clean homes, drove pretty cars, had jobs that paid money to pay for all the luxury in life. My mother made sure to influence us to make the right choices when making friends. I can actually remember a time when my sisters and I sat around talking about the fact that mommy's great great grandchildren would never believe that she was a "wetback" from Mexico, because neither of us had Mexican friends and we sure as hell weren't gonna marry anyone Mexican, gross!!! I would marry a fabulous white man, my children would marry fabulous white people and so forth, and before long my mother and Mexico would no longer exist. The irony of who we are now is laughable, needless to say we all chose Mexican men to marry, but our mentality back them was ignorant and still astonishes me. The root of that thinking lingered in me through adolescence. Even in college I would reference my childhood for choices that I needed to make regarding the people I let be part of my life. It isn't until more recently that I desire the companionship of a girlfriend that might have the same story as me, someone who will share laughter when we remember the cultural differences we had growing up with those around us, someone who I can drive around blaring cumbias with on my radio, someone who just gets it. It isn't enough to have it with my husband, I desire more.

My name is Monica Isela Sais de Águilar, and I am a recovering racist of my own people.

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Tuesday, June 28, 2011

in an attempt to...

My last night at Parkland and all I thought about was, when will this shift be over? Don't get me wrong, I will miss many things...of which are listed below.

1. A GI bleeder with fresh melana justa pouring out of his/her prolapsed, hemorrhoid filled anus.

2. The CHF frequent flyer non compliant Diabetic with active DKA, whose bestfriends mothers uncles nephew keeps bringing him/her donuts and soda, which he/she chugs and proceeds to hide the evidence under his/her pillow.

3. Hearing this every Damn shift, "uh, no speaky eenglish"

4. Relying on a 26 year old, fresh out of medical school, for the lack of a better word "doctor", manage and dictate the care of an over the top critically ill person.

Then there's always...

5. The overworked and under paid staffing of our unit..."Monica, can u come get me access", "Monica, can u translate for me", "Monica, can u..."

I am relieved that this part of my life is over. I'm grateful because Parkland taught me how to be a nurse in the same way Parkland taught me that it's very good at turning its back on you.

Goodbye, and you will never swim in my brilliance again.
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