I know it’s the 4th of July and I should put up something festive and all patriot and such but really I just can’t stop myself from soaking in the fun we had this afternoon at the playground.  Our oldest is not in any kind of preschool so her interaction with kids is limited to playdates (few and far between, we’re shitty parents, I know, and we’re working on it) and random encounters in public places often frequented by kids (usually the playground but also places like the zoo, children’s museum, Chipotle in the early evening, etc.).

So today we were in the playground and a group of kids came running to play.  They looked like they could all be siblings or maybe cousins or just really good neighborly friends.  As is her usual response to a large crowd of kids, D watched for a long time.  She asked lots of questions – Who are they?  Why are they here?  Why’d they take their shoes off?  Can they play here (in “her” playground)?  She watched for so long that I tired of pushing the swing and started to utter a 2 minute warning about our departure.  She told me we couldn’t leave because she had to play on every last piece of playground equipment.

We made a dash over to the other kids and she made her way up the ladder to the slide.  I chatted with her the entire time (I’m a chatty one and thank goodness my daughter is as well).  The kids overheard us and since we speak in Spanish with one another they asked what language we were speaking.  I told them Spanish.  They asked if she could speak English and I said yes.  They said cool.  COOL!  Be still my soaring heart.   D smiled at them and engaged them in some conversation about having them join her to play.  They each had a little something to say about the bilingual thing.  One little boy told me he only knew how to say “gracias”.  Another little girl said she only knew how to speak English.  An older boy wanted to know how she was able to learn two languages.  They were interested, impressed, curious, kind, sweet.  They made my baby girl feel special not different.

I can’t explain the feelings inside when the kids were asking questions.  I hadn’t realized I was so something about how other kids would react to my daughters being bilingual.  I realized I’d worked it up in my head in the same way I’d worked myself up about how I’d approach the “Where are you from?” question once I had children of my own.  It was new territory today.  Wanting to be protective yet open and inviting.  Wanting to speak confidently but cautiously.  Educating proudly without boring the kids to death with my excitement.

It’s not that I think all kids are mean but I know kids can be cruel.  Even good kids can be cruel without meaning to be.  For instance, I will never forget the day a boy I’d just met told me not to worry because I could just marry a white man like my godmother (I was there with my godmother and her husband).  I don’t think I was even a teenager, maybe just 11 or so.  I wasn’t mad or sad but just confused and astonished someone my own age would say something like that.  So, being a Latina mom who happens to not look mainstream Latina, I have spent many hours contemplating what my little melting pot daughters will face.  My girls will encounter questions and comments I never had to worry about.  I grew up in a place where you were the odd man out if you didn’t speak Spanish.  Cubans were everywhere.  Let me repeat, EVERYWHERE!  Here my girls will be in the minority.  Our experience today encourages me to believe my girls will juggle their bicultural/bilingual identity just fine in our little New England home.

Thank you, little ones on the playground today, you made this mami very happy.

Little girl, little lady – I love you.  You are my breath and my life.  With each passing day you astound me.  You are Nancy Drew curious and ask me the sweetest questions.  Today we found a fallen nest and you asked, with concern in your eyes, where the birds had gone.  You wanted to know if they’d build another home.  Yesterday while celebrating your birthday with friends, you stopped mid-play to thank our friend Alicia for joining you to celebrate your birthday.  You love to put your hands on your hips and tilt your half-straight, half-curly head to one side.  You hold you sister’s hand when it’s dangerous for her to walk alone, even when she cries she wants to do it herself.

Yes, I want to stop time but I’m having so much fun watching you blossom more and more into yourself.  I love you more each day.  Thank you for the past three years and thank you for tomorrow, all of it…you will light it bright, fill it with laughter and lots of sass.  Happy Birthday, Mama!

best. picture. ever. ever.

Oh, Little One.

You just woke up, well “woke up” as you often do – hazy, still really asleep, crawling with eyes closed across the bed towards your sister.  It’s a sweet little nighttime ritual you do, your random faux wakings – more a stirring than a waking.  I swooped in before you could wake your sister and nestled you in my arm, your head in that sweet little spot in my elbow.  Your eyes drifted, open, close, open, close.  You weren’t really awake but you knew I was there.

I realized then we never lie together, hanging out.  I realized how night and day you and your sister are.  Your baby girl sister was a cuddler.  She’d wake up from a nap or a long night’s sleep and we’d lie in bed – gazing at each other, giggling, rolling about.  We’d spoon, oh how we’d spoon.  She’d fall asleep in my arms; I’d fall asleep in hers.

You, my dear, have never liked to spoon.  And I try, oh how I try, you squirmy little thing.  You fall asleep in my arms kinda but in my lap and as soon as you realize you’re not lying in bed you arch your little back and slither your way out of my arms onto the bed.  It’s quite the maneuver.  You’re impressive like that.

You little ladies are night and day, so incredibly different from one another.  As a mother, it amazes me  how alike but wildly different you are.  Your sister from the moment she was born has been a mirror for me.  I have seen myself so much in her.  I know her.  She is me.  And I’m not talking that she imitates everything I do or that she has my mannerisms but in my heart I see my spirit in her.  Her days as a baby were magical; I knew what she needed – it was instinctive and natural, sometimes still soul shocking to see so much of yourself in someone so tiny, so new.

You, sweet girl, are not me and from day one I have had to discover motherhood all over again.  I have had to explore and learn who you are.  I have had to work at understanding your needs.  I have had to work to know you.  You surprised me, baby.  I thought I had it all figured out but you’ve kept me on my toes.  Mothering you has been like treasure hunting without really knowing what it is I am looking for which makes the treasure that much more exciting.

Thank you for tonight, for that little moment to hold you while you slept.  It reminded me that indeed you are night and day, you and your sister, but always you’ll be my babies.  Together you ladies will teach me more about me than I know there is.  You will teach me to grow and love and be in marvelous unexpected ways.

Thanks.

Photo via hellosputnik

A couple of nights ago, in the wee hours of the middle of the night (3:30am to be precise, the fire alarm went off in our condo complex.  It’s always a quick walk down memory lane, bringing me back to the days of college dorm life except now it’s not drunken coeds setting  off alarms (I’d tell you here who is setting them off nowadays but we never seem to find out who the culprit is).   We bundled up the girls and made our way downstairs but luckily ran into a firefighter before we faced the cold.  Our hero in uniform kindly informed us there was no real emergency and to head back home.  Thankfully the girls went right back to sleep without a fuss but I was up in bed for another hour.  This is what was running through my mind:

-When the alarm went off I didn’t scurry to take a ton of prized possessions with me.  Jeremy took Dessa and I took Farrah.  I paused for a split second to put on my wedding ring and we were out the door.  There isn’t one other single thing in our home I’d care to take with me.  Well, my giant diaper bag/purse came with me, too, but only out of necessity (cell phone, credit cards, cash, etc.) and it was right by the door.  Made me wonder why we have so much shit in our house if the only thing I care about is my wedding ring?  I think it may be time to do some spring cleaning.

-Random fact about me: I don’t sleep in PJs.  Not in the nude but not entirely dressed.  While the fire alarm rang, I wasted a few precious seconds throwing what was within arm’s reach – sweatpants from the dirty laundry and my nursing tank.  I covered up my stylish outfit with a big coat and giant, furry winter boots.  I know, quite the sight.  And, yes, I know how I look doesn’t matter for didley squat but that split second putting on dirty sweatpants could have meant life or death.  Note to self: invest in some cute PJs.

-If there really had been a fire, any and all pictures we’ve ever taken of our daughters would be gone.  G-O-N-E.  Sure we’d have photos other folks have taken but none of the moments we’ve chosen to capture.  It might seem insignificant to some people but it makes my heart hurt a little to think the possibility exists my girlies would have no pictures of their baby days.  Each picture is a story, a moment in their lives.  I’m feeling super guilty I haven’t done anything to carefully store our photos.  Add to the to do list – back up photos – ASAP!

-We’ve lived in our condo for 5 years now and this was the first time my husband willingly left the house.  Every time the fire alarm has gone off, he is confident it’s a false alarm.  Me?  No way.  I’ve left every single time.  There have even been plenty of times when I left him sleeping in bed and walked outside (not without encouraging him to leave first).  Not sure why but this time he rolled with it.  But he’s not the point.  Whenever I’ve gone outside for a fire alarm, I rarely run into anyone.  Outside I might find half a dozen neighbors but not nearly enough to fill the building.  Does everyone just ignore the alarm?  Do they just not care?  I never chance it.  I ain’t going out like that!

-When the fire alarm went off, my husband and I got up right away.  Our girls kept on sleeping.  Soundly.  Not a stir.  Not a flinch.  It’s nothing new; any fire alarms we’ve had in the middle of the night has never woken up either of our girls.  It’s, well, alarming.  It reminded me of a special I saw on Dateline or some similar show which said young children don’t respond to the sound of a traditional fire alarm.  I’m not sure what the reasoning is but they’re just not wired to respond.  They will, however, respond to the sound of a human voice.  I’m not sure of the science of why children don’t respond but it has something to do with the state of sleep they are in.  Sad on two levels – for obvious reasons in the event of a real fire and because I think it means adults just don’t get to that stage of sleep as often.

So some questions for whoever might be reading.

• What items would you grab if your home were on fire?
• How do you sleep?  If the firemen arrive to find you on the sidewalk, what would you be wearing?
• How do you store your photos?  How many back up systems do you have?  Any word on Smug Mug?
• Why do you think so few people leave their home during fire alarms?

And with that, my dears, I’m off to enjoy this rainy, rainy Monday.

Via myyorgda

A random night of tucking babes in, kitchen cleaning and massive stomach upset.  The cure for the latter?  Stillness on the couch with some good reads.  I stumbled across this ode and my heart quivers.  It is sadness and joy and inspiration.  It is sisterhood.

It reminds me of how I want my girls, this sisterhood I’ve birthed, to be filled with magic.  I hope their love today is a glimmer of what’s to come.  They are besties.  They make each other laugh, good laughs, deep in the belly chuckle type laughs.  They care and worry and comfort.  They kiss and hug and tackle, big love coming from their tiny little bodies.  I want magic for them; I want the magic of their sisterhood now to last forever.

As if I hadn’t shed enough tears for that piece of poetry, I was led here and here and more tears ensued.  On this random night, I’m reminded to cherish, live and be kind.

I’ll spare you the sorry-I’ve-been-gone-so-long intro paragraph and just let you know I haven’t here because I’ve been here – as in IRL.  We celebrated with family as twin baby girl cousins were born into our little clan.  I’ve been chasing a chubby baby around our condo; cruising at 8 months, surely walking by 9 (the dread!).  I’ve been trying to tap into my inner zen and stay calm, patient and positive with a strong willed, independent toddler.  We’ve been spreading some smiles to great-grandma who isn’t doing so great (well, she’s better but far from before she was ill).  I’ve been working hard at what some might consider hardly working; don’t be fooled, it takes more energy than you can imagine.  I’ve been cheerleading for my hubby who is chasing his dreams.  I’ve been discovering new folks online who are inspiring, invigorating and getting my ass in gear.  I’ve been hovering in almost-there-mode with big ideas and trying to figure out how I can do it all in one lifetime.  Where I’ve been, where I’m at.

This space of mine has been neglected and I can feel it.  Who would ever think I’d say that?  That I would feel not being active online, not blogging regularly.  I’m still on Latina and Bellani on the regular but my heart is here and I’ve been absent.  My heart can tell.  I’m refocusing this space.  I lost sight for awhile there on why I was blogging.  I started this here blog when my toddler was nearly 6 months as a way to get a hold of myself, to capture on the thoughts running through my mind that couldn’t be shared or said or completely thought out while mothering.  It felt good; it nurtured me.

And that is what it’s going back to.  My dear diary space.

Randomly -

Life is so, so full and good right now.  Grateful.

Yesterday was my birthday, a whopping 29 years.  I’m making this last year of my 20s rock – hard.

Projects, projects, projects.  Why can’t I ever seem to focus on one thing?  I’ve stopped fighting the urge to stick to one perfect thing.  Try often, fail, try again, find it.

Motherhood is such a fascinating journey.  I can see so much evolution in myself in the last 2.5 years.  Discovery, losing myself, carving out new bits of me, holding on fiercely to other bits of me, seeing a familiar face and smiling.  The best is yet to come.

So much, so much, my sweet little blog.  Missed you.  Glad to be back, if you’ll have me =)

Image via Tony the Misfit.

Tonight my 2 year old, for the first time noticing the moon through our kitchen window, asked in her sweet Spanglish, “Mira! Luna coming Dessa?”  She wanted to know if the moon was coming to visit her.  I told her yes, “Si, mama, la luna viene a ver a Dessa.”

I write it here because I don’t want to forget that question, ever.  I hope she keeps that feeling, that wonder, that joy in her heart always.  I hope I get to witness it and remind her of it when she needs reminding.

When she was still a tiny little one in my belly, I played Sade many a night.  One song always made me feel close to the growing person inside me.  Then later it mellowed me.  Funny how this song keeps haunting me.  This moment reminds me of The Sweetest Gift so again, enjoy.

Quietly while you were asleep
The moon and I were talking
I asked that she’d always keep you protected

She promised you her light
That you so gracefully carry
You bring your light and shine like morning

And then the wind pulls the clouds across the moon
Your light fills the darkest room
And I can see the miracle
That keeps us from falling

She promised all the sweetest gifts
That only the heaven’s could bestow
You bring your light and shine like morning

And as you so gracefully give
Her light as long as you live
I’ll always remember this moment

Listen.

Oh my sweet little baby, I just came from  your side.  Like every night, you woke up and called for me.  Not Papi or your grandmother you love so much or any cousin, friend or family you adore but me, Mami.  Every night, without fail you call for me, groggy…more asleep than awake, staring into the dark waiting for me to answer your call.  Like every other night, you wanted me by your side but more than that you wanted a nighttime snack.  I cozied up beside you, a slim bit of real estate between you and your sister’s co-sleeper contraption, and you whispered, “Cheche” your sweet version of leche.

You make the sweet sounds of a nursing baby and shut your eyes, drunk with sleep.  Tonight, though, you are sleeping and eating but you move – restless, looking for something.  I try to sneak away but you’ve latched on and aren’t letting go and really how can I refuse?  Because before I know it you won’t be in our bed anymore, you won’t need me, want me anymore…so I stay and watch you.

You throw a careless leg over my hip, your lips still on me, and your hands find comfy nooks and crannies to settle in, like pieces of a puzzle come home.  We fit so perfectly together and it’s amazing how even now, so far from those days in the womb and those days of infancy, being close to me…together…calms you.  I try to leave again and you stir…so I stop and relax into the moment and you melt back into me.  We lay there, fit perfectly together, your sister’s breath in the background, for what seems like forever…what I wish could be forever.

I pull myself away eventually and you are deep in sleep…back to dreaming of lazy beach days, puppies and ice cream.  My heart wonders how many more moments like these we will have.  You are so little still but at the same time so big…I don’t know where the time has gone and it just keeps moving so quickly forward.  I miss the baby in you…but at the same time am so eager to continue getting to know the person you are becoming…witnessing you unfold more into yourself.  It’s so much at once, overwhelming…to love you so intensely.

What brought about all this sentimalish?  This post with its sweet baby picture which reminded me of how quickly babies grow.  Since I read it, I’ve been trying to really see each moment these days…see and capture and store it in my heart because I know I won’t get them back.  My mantra these days…breathe, be and savor.  Enjoy your growing little ones…

Soul searching beach days

Hello lovely blog oh mine.  I’ve missed you.  You’ve been wondering where I’ve been, I’m sure.  I’m still blogging lots just not here.  My mind has been buzzing with so much lately.  I’ve needed this space many times in the last couple of months but getting here has been harder to do than I thought.  I’m back.

What’s kept me away?  So much.

1.  At the heart of my absence is my decision not return to my corporate job at the end of  my maternity leave.  Originally, my plans had been to take the summer off and return to work now in September.  But with the birth of a child comes intense perspective into the rest of your life.  My heart is not in corporate America; it never has been and never will be.  I want to spend my time doing something I love, something I can be proud of, something meaningful to me.  I want to live life on purpose, making conscious choices; all so I can teach my daughters by example what is possible in their lives.

My hubby and I have been talking about it all summer.  We’ve talked and talked and talked and at the end of the day we both agree I need to be happy.  God bless him for understanding how important it is to be happy and thank goodness for his support.  Until I figure out exactly what it is I want to be doing, I’ll be working part-time at my favorite maternity shop teaching little ones.  I believe everything happens for a reason & what question you put out to the universe will be answered in due time.  While I was contemplating leaving corporate America, the opportunity presented itself to take on this part time gig so I jumped at it.

This is a new journey for me and I’m excited and nervous and curious.  You’ll be hearing a lot about my journey.

2.  I’ve written before about my grandpa and how much I love him.  It has been interesting growing my own family with him so many miles away.  This summer my godmother, who lived 20 minutes away from him, moved 2 hours away to settle into retirement.  In my heart I’ve always known I could never bear the idea of him being alone so my husband and I have asked him to move closer to us.  We’re in a one level condo so he can’t move in with us but we’re on the hunt for appropriate housing for him.  He doesn’t need assistance which is great but there are a lot of factors we have to consider.  While this has weighed the least on me this summer in terms of decision making, it has weighed heaviest on me in terms of logistics.  There are so many things to consider and plan for that I feel overwhelmed by it a lot.  But I keep in mind how wonderful it will be to see my grandfather spend time with my daughters on a regular basis and I get all warm and fuzzy and teary eyed and know this is the right decision.

3.  My girls have been growing and blossoming and just  being and I’ve been in absolute awe.  Motherhood has just taken me by storm this summer.  First, Farrah arrived and rocked our world.  She had terrible gas issues and the first month and half, almost two months, were spent figuring out how to help her get the gas out.  It wasn’t until shortly before she turned 3 months that we could truly enjoy her and get to know her personality.  And then there’s Dessa, oh my Dessa.  She’s such a little lady and so opinionated and full of life.  I spend most days enjoying her so much I can’t do much else.  I can barely distract myself to do other things that need to get done because I don’t want to miss anything.  I don’t want to miss a new look or a new word or sentence or a new dance move or sweet, kind gesture.  And then there’s being with the two girls together which is too much sometimes – interacting, communicating in their own little way.  Farrah mesmerized in the most intense way with her sister; she watches her with so much intensity and joy it’s the sweetest.  Dessa know so much without ever having to be told – she knows this little baby can’t yet play like she can so she’s gentle and restrains her excitement and eagerness to hold her hands and spin round and round.  Ay, these girls will be the end of me.  I love them.  Yes, I’ve been busy loving my girls so I’ve neglected this little piece of my life.

Those are the things consuming me and keeping me away.  One and two were much more consuming before but now they’re more than just in me but out in the world and happening so it’s a sigh of relief.  Life is no longer on hold.  I’ve got plans for you, little blog, and lots of life to write about.  Thanks for waiting so patiently.  Goodnight…

Believe it or not, I’ve been working on this here blog tirelessly since Farrah was born.  You may not necessarily have the posts to prove it but I’ve got the bags under my eyes to show for it.  I’ve been posting regularly at my other blogging gigs but have held back here.  I needed to regroup and remember again why I started blogging and what this space is for.  How else to get inspired and clear vision?  Read some blogs.

I came across this which had me going, “OMG! Me, too! Me, too!”  It’s all about how blogs are like the magazine obsessions young teenage girls have (I was so one of them).  How you pile up your favorites in a corner so you can go back to that one great picture or one great quote.  How your tastes change and you move from Cosmo and Seventeen to Real Simple and Cookie.  I dreamed of being a magazine editor one day but I really didn’t know what an editor was.  I just wanted to be part of creating something amazing and inspiring.

No, I do not fool myself into thinking this little ole blog is so grand as to amaze and inspire anyone.  But I do feel it is my place to share myself with you and as a forget me not to myself.  It’s a place to maybe inspire myself.  I spent a lot of time writing about my VBAC but now that my vagina is on hiatus from posting, I’m ready to get back to Mama Hearts Baby, to get back to me.

In regrouping, I’ve come up with some fun stuff for the blog I hope you’ll like.  Mondays will regularly feature a mami (Latina mom) active online.  Since I started this blog I have been searching for Latinas to connect with and while there are directories out there and links galore, no one has started the conversation.  Thursdays will welcome a new little diddy – Parenting Toolblox where I’ll share what tools or practices have worked for me, what current parenting issue I need input on and, hopefully, you will share your amazing parent wisdom with me.  Somehow overnight Dessa has entered the “terrible twos” so I’m eager to get as much feedback as possible!  A few more things are in store but you’ll see them as they come.

And here is your bonus.  I saw this last night for the first time and was laughing out loud. This guy is great and he’s totally sold me on the Slap Chop. Best part? You’ll love his nuts!

It’s Saturday night so I’m continuing my posting mini-break over the weekend while I put some finishing touches on the site and write several posts for my other blogs.  Until then, lovelies =)