Friday, September 11, 2015

Where it falls...

I got home the other day, and I found the boys in Adan's room with Marcus, watching old videos on the laptop. As I inched over onto Adan's bed to get a peek myself, I realized that most if not all of them were memories buried so deep it was nearly impossible to recall them. I lived them, I was present in them, I partook in the element of adventure, yet I can't really remember it. This 2D imagery was holding my memory hostage and my inability to regain composure over it's loss of control was too much to bear. I did not like the feelings that were brewing inside. Somehow allowing myself to move past that time was not punishment enough, I had to also forget that it happened too. It is a prison of evolution, one I do not like to participate in, apparently. I mean seriously, do you? How is it that we can be so present in the moment, attach ourselves to the very element of life, preserve the experience and then attempt to catalog it in our safe of memories, yet flat our forget? I'm sorry, but that is just not fair. Or is it? Why do we forget some of the most precious times in our life? Time does not stop for anyone, that is not new news. It waits for no one, and often times pokes fun at those that think holding on to the now will somehow prolong the tomorrow. It just doesn't work that way. I am guilty of this, on more than one occasion. I'm really not quite sure why it happens or why I feel so cheated. But if freeing up my safe of life moments allows for current events like these below, then so be it.

Where the process began.
Cupcakes with little sombrero's
Just some of the decorations. You can't go wrong with some tissue paper poufs.
A Mexican Fiesta isn't a Mexican Fiesta without Jarritos!
These darling flags added just the right touch to our patio ceiling.
Just in case you got lost along the way.
I'm not quite sure how we got here, at the ripe old age of 1, and Luca agrees. (based on that face, ha)
He couldn't get enough. (my attempt at ruffle pipping was kind of a bust) evidenced in this picture.
His Mercado bag was full of everything NOBODY should eat.
If you don't have a pinata at a birthday party, it ain't a party. (OK, my disclaimer is this: unless you host outside your home, otherwise, we will always have a pinata)
Mercado goodie bags. (or as I like to call 'em, Mercado Danger Bags full of rotten Mexican know, in keeping with the theme n all)
His. Smile. Is. Everything.
If I dip, you dip, we dip...and we all sure did!