Friday, October 24, 2014
At 19 years old, I was broken.
I had traveled far away from family and was dealing with incredible sadness from being far away from them.
My grand-mother had just passed away and I still couldn't get past the intense pain it was causing me.
I was probably depressed and as I said before, incredibly broken.
At 19 years old, I met a man.
He was so wrong for me.
At a time when what I needed the most was calm, peace, tranquility, I ventured into a relationship with a man who was oh so very wrong for me.
But alas, here we are, ten years later with the man who would become my best friend, my savior, my partner, my everything.
There is a song called "Glitter in the air," by Pink.
It basically sums up my relationship with my husband.
"....Close your eyes and trust it, just trust it..."
Our relationship was rocky to say the least.
We fought, we broke up, we got back together.
I was in such a bad place and he was not interested in saving me.
Can you blame him?
I was so beyond broken, I didn't even know if I wanted to be helped.
But he stayed by me, trying his best to save me, and save me he did.
I look back at these last 10 years we have spent together and I never want to forget them.
A lot of them were bad, I won't lie about that. They were horrible, but they were ours.
We learned so much about each other, but we also learned so much more about ourselves.
We learned about tolerance, compromise, compassion, being silly, and learning to forgive.
We've shared beautiful moments, we've laughed together, and we've also sobbed in each other's arms.
We have hurt each other deeply at times, so much so that it almost ended "Us."
But we've also been each other's rock.
When the world turned on us, we have had one another to lean against.
So much has happened in these ten years together that just thinking about it makes me cry.
But you know what?
I cherish every single moment, even the bad ones.
We made a family together, and I am so proud to have him as the father of my children.
I couldn't have picked a better partner in life, even if I didn't really pick him. We sort of just existed together until we realized that we were in love.
I guess that's how it was meant to be, and I am glad it's how it happened.
Our anniversary was last month by the way, but staying true to us, we completely forgot about it.
I had traveled far away from family and was dealing with incredible sadness from being far away from them.
My grand-mother had just passed away and I still couldn't get past the intense pain it was causing me.
I was probably depressed and as I said before, incredibly broken.
At 19 years old, I met a man.
He was so wrong for me.
At a time when what I needed the most was calm, peace, tranquility, I ventured into a relationship with a man who was oh so very wrong for me.
 |
| Young Us |
But alas, here we are, ten years later with the man who would become my best friend, my savior, my partner, my everything.
There is a song called "Glitter in the air," by Pink.
It basically sums up my relationship with my husband.
"....Close your eyes and trust it, just trust it..."
Our relationship was rocky to say the least.
We fought, we broke up, we got back together.
I was in such a bad place and he was not interested in saving me.
Can you blame him?
I was so beyond broken, I didn't even know if I wanted to be helped.
But he stayed by me, trying his best to save me, and save me he did.
I look back at these last 10 years we have spent together and I never want to forget them.
A lot of them were bad, I won't lie about that. They were horrible, but they were ours.
We learned so much about each other, but we also learned so much more about ourselves.
We learned about tolerance, compromise, compassion, being silly, and learning to forgive.
We've shared beautiful moments, we've laughed together, and we've also sobbed in each other's arms.
We have hurt each other deeply at times, so much so that it almost ended "Us."
But we've also been each other's rock.
When the world turned on us, we have had one another to lean against.
So much has happened in these ten years together that just thinking about it makes me cry.
But you know what?
I cherish every single moment, even the bad ones.
We made a family together, and I am so proud to have him as the father of my children.
I couldn't have picked a better partner in life, even if I didn't really pick him. We sort of just existed together until we realized that we were in love.
I guess that's how it was meant to be, and I am glad it's how it happened.
 |
| Our Family |
Our anniversary was last month by the way, but staying true to us, we completely forgot about it.
Monday, September 15, 2014
In a small section of the Bronx, there is a place called Little Italy.
In that place, there is a quaint Catholic School. In that school, there is a Kindergarten class led by a very strict teacher.
That teacher has her windows decorated with plants. One of those plants is a cactus plant and my son is terrified of it.
How did this all came to be you say?
Well, I have a very sensitive child. He is also very visual.
He can't look at disturbing things without freaking out.
Chicken bones at the dinner table you say?
He'll freak out over them unless we throw them away or at least we cover them with a napkin.
Anyways, as we were walking to school today, he casually mentions the dreaded flower. He tells me he is very bothered by it and he can't just look away because he knows it's there.
I reassure him by telling him it will be alright, just ignore it.
When we got to school, the waterworks began. He started to get more and more anxious about the fact that he would have to sit next to that plant.
The conversation went something like this:
Luka: "Please, I'm too shy about that flower, can we go home?"
Me: "No bubba, you must go to school. Just turn around and ignore it."
Luka: "I can't! It looks at me, I know it!"
Me: "It doesn't have eyes baby, it can't look at you."
Luka: "I KNOW IT'S LOOKING AT ME!"
By then he was on full blown sobbing. The teacher by the door kept calling him over with a very gentle voice but I knew it wouldn't work.
I'm also not one of the parents that would leave a visibly upset child in school and just walk away. Sorry, can't do it, not happening.
The school closed it's door at 8:00 on the dot and Luka thought he was in the clear.
No such luck buddy!
We went over to the main entrance to get a tardy slip so he could make it to class.
Luka was still upset but I promised I would write a letter to his teacher right there and then to explain the situation.
I made the poor assistant scramble for some paper and pencil so I could write something before he was taken to class.
While I was writing I could see my son start to relax. The fact that I was actively doing something about it made him feel better.
By the time I was done, he was calm and he promised to try to relax in class.
I know this whole ordeal may seem silly to some.
I don't even know if his teacher will do anything about Luka's anxiety, I hope she does though.
What I do know is that my child has a very real fear of this plant and I couldn't just ignore it.
I just wonder if his anxiety and overall feeling of being uncomfortable is something I need to address or it's just new school jitters.
I'll keep you all updated.
In that place, there is a quaint Catholic School. In that school, there is a Kindergarten class led by a very strict teacher.
That teacher has her windows decorated with plants. One of those plants is a cactus plant and my son is terrified of it.
 |
| Not the actual culprit |
Well, I have a very sensitive child. He is also very visual.
He can't look at disturbing things without freaking out.
Chicken bones at the dinner table you say?
He'll freak out over them unless we throw them away or at least we cover them with a napkin.
Anyways, as we were walking to school today, he casually mentions the dreaded flower. He tells me he is very bothered by it and he can't just look away because he knows it's there.
I reassure him by telling him it will be alright, just ignore it.
When we got to school, the waterworks began. He started to get more and more anxious about the fact that he would have to sit next to that plant.
The conversation went something like this:
Luka: "Please, I'm too shy about that flower, can we go home?"
Me: "No bubba, you must go to school. Just turn around and ignore it."
Luka: "I can't! It looks at me, I know it!"
Me: "It doesn't have eyes baby, it can't look at you."
Luka: "I KNOW IT'S LOOKING AT ME!"
By then he was on full blown sobbing. The teacher by the door kept calling him over with a very gentle voice but I knew it wouldn't work.
I'm also not one of the parents that would leave a visibly upset child in school and just walk away. Sorry, can't do it, not happening.
The school closed it's door at 8:00 on the dot and Luka thought he was in the clear.
No such luck buddy!
We went over to the main entrance to get a tardy slip so he could make it to class.
Luka was still upset but I promised I would write a letter to his teacher right there and then to explain the situation.
I made the poor assistant scramble for some paper and pencil so I could write something before he was taken to class.
While I was writing I could see my son start to relax. The fact that I was actively doing something about it made him feel better.
By the time I was done, he was calm and he promised to try to relax in class.
I know this whole ordeal may seem silly to some.
I don't even know if his teacher will do anything about Luka's anxiety, I hope she does though.
What I do know is that my child has a very real fear of this plant and I couldn't just ignore it.
I just wonder if his anxiety and overall feeling of being uncomfortable is something I need to address or it's just new school jitters.
I'll keep you all updated.
Monday, August 4, 2014
I'm a private person.
Sure, I have like 10 blogs and I share a lot, but for the most part, I keep my private life private.
Not many people know that I have returned to work.
I have been working for the past 2 months and I do enjoy being out of the house and bringing in some money.
Now, as you all well know, I'm a breastfeeding mother.
Breastfeeding for me ranks way up there with breathing and changing your underwear on a daily basis.
How do working moms continue to breastfeed?
They pump!
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| Ugly pump and it's parts |
I was blessed with a nice supply of breastmilk for both my son when he was a bay and my daughter who is currently still nursing. I also have always had the incredible support of my husband who would do all the housework, cook on top of working full time, so that I could breastfeed my babies every 1 hour or so on demand.
Breastfeeding had it's hurdles at first, but it came naturally to me. It was easy.
Pumping on the other hand, it's super hard!
There are extra steps to take.
You must sanitize the parts first. Everything has to remain dry afterwards or mold can easily form.
Pumping by hand is out of the question, it takes sooooooo long and your hands start twitching from the strain soon after.
If you have an electrical pump, things are a bit easy.
Pumping at work is a whole 'nother story.
First, there is the uncomfortable talk you must have with your supervisors. Women are usually more understanding. Men, specially the single ones, get a bit flustered when you tell them that you are lactating and will need an appropriate place and suitable time to pump breastmilk.
I take my pump to work every single time. It's this not so good looking bag that is clunky and has a strap that is too short. The motor takes most of the space of the bag. There is barely any room for bottle storage, let alone my wallet.
I have to pump at least every 4 hours. Every three hours would be ideal, but I can stretch it to 4 before I start hurting.
Still, I take the time to do it because it's what's for MY child.
I only work part-time, so it's not so bad.
But I think about the women who work full time.
It is a huge sacrifice, it is a huge commitment as well.
But they do it, and I applaud them.
It would be easier to just wean Sophia from the breast. At the very least, it would be easier to just give her formula while I'm gone and just breastfeed her night.
Sure, it would be easier, but it would not be best for MY child.
I emphasize the word "MY" because I want to make the point that what is best for my baby, may not be the best for others.
Sure, I would love to not have to bring the pump with me, and I would love to have a full 45 minutes to eat a meal at work, or to have my 15 minute breaks to just sit and relax. But I do this because I can. I can tough it out and complain about it when I get home.
Nevertheless, I made a commitment the day my daughter was born. I made it to her, and I made it to myself. I would breastfeed her for as long as she is interested in breastfeeding.
Whenever I come home and put the bottles of pumped breastmilk in the freezer, I start feeling negative about the whole ordeal.
As soon as I enter the room and find my perfectly chubby munchkin greeting me with the most beautiful smile ever, I renew my commitment to keep on doing it.
How could I not?
She is worth it.
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| Perfectly perfect breastfed baby |
Labels:
baby,
breastfed,
breastfeeding,
commitment,
hard,
leakies,
pumping,
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|
1 comments
Monday, May 19, 2014
Years ago, when Luka was a baby, a lady approached me at the Doctor's office and told me he was fat.
You can read that story here.
Well, now that Sophia is six months old, she has turned into a chunky monkey as expected.
My children are breastfed babies, and if you know anything about breastfeeding babies, you know that they get really chunky when they are small and then thin out once they become mobile. Furthermore, breastfed babies have their own growth pattern and it can vary greatly from baby to baby.
Anyway, with that being said, it irks me when people approach a mother to tell them how fat their baby is. I mean, seriously? Babies are supposed to have some cushion to them. They are babies after all. I can sometimes excuse someone approach me and comment on how rotund my babies are because most of the time, after I explain that they are breastfed, they back off.
This wasn't the case with a particular lady the last time I went out with Sophia.
Here's what went down:
Setting: Jcpenney checkout point
Cashier: "Next! Hi, your baby is soooo cute! That's a latino baby for sure."
Me: "Thank you, yes she is lol."
Lady #1: "God bless your baby, she is so precious. She's breastfed isn't she?"
Me: "Yes she is. Thank you!"
We spent a while trying to pay for my purchases because my coupons weren't working and I was not going to pay full price if I had coupons. We were almost done and in came another lady.
Cashier: "Your total is $ XX.XX"
Lady #2: (In Spanish) "Umm, excuse, that baby is really fat"
Me: "She's not fat, she's perfect."
Lady #2: "You should really cut back on the feedings."
Me: "My baby is fine, her Dr. agrees, she is breastfed, I'm not cutting anything."
I then turn around and start ignoring her. She, not pleased with herself, kept on talking.
Lady #2 talking to Sophia: "Yes baby, you are so chunky, you should eat less. If you keep getting so big you won't fit into any of the sexy dresses!"
Seriously lady? Seriously?!
First of all, who does she think she is lecturing me about my baby. Second of all, did you not get the hint that the conversation was over? I turned around, I was in fact IGNORING you.
Third of all, this is a six month old baby. Why would she care if she fits into SEXY dresses?
Way to start sexualizing infants!
It took all of me not to turn back around and bitch her out. I took the "bigger person" route and kept ignoring. I payed for my purchases and thanked the cashier. I gave the lady a sideways look and left.
The nerve on some people!
You can read that story here.
Well, now that Sophia is six months old, she has turned into a chunky monkey as expected.
My children are breastfed babies, and if you know anything about breastfeeding babies, you know that they get really chunky when they are small and then thin out once they become mobile. Furthermore, breastfed babies have their own growth pattern and it can vary greatly from baby to baby.
Anyway, with that being said, it irks me when people approach a mother to tell them how fat their baby is. I mean, seriously? Babies are supposed to have some cushion to them. They are babies after all. I can sometimes excuse someone approach me and comment on how rotund my babies are because most of the time, after I explain that they are breastfed, they back off.
This wasn't the case with a particular lady the last time I went out with Sophia.
Here's what went down:
Setting: Jcpenney checkout point
Cashier: "Next! Hi, your baby is soooo cute! That's a latino baby for sure."
Me: "Thank you, yes she is lol."
Lady #1: "God bless your baby, she is so precious. She's breastfed isn't she?"
Me: "Yes she is. Thank you!"
We spent a while trying to pay for my purchases because my coupons weren't working and I was not going to pay full price if I had coupons. We were almost done and in came another lady.
Cashier: "Your total is $ XX.XX"
Lady #2: (In Spanish) "Umm, excuse, that baby is really fat"
Me: "She's not fat, she's perfect."
Lady #2: "You should really cut back on the feedings."
Me: "My baby is fine, her Dr. agrees, she is breastfed, I'm not cutting anything."
I then turn around and start ignoring her. She, not pleased with herself, kept on talking.
Lady #2 talking to Sophia: "Yes baby, you are so chunky, you should eat less. If you keep getting so big you won't fit into any of the sexy dresses!"
Seriously lady? Seriously?!
First of all, who does she think she is lecturing me about my baby. Second of all, did you not get the hint that the conversation was over? I turned around, I was in fact IGNORING you.
Third of all, this is a six month old baby. Why would she care if she fits into SEXY dresses?
Way to start sexualizing infants!
It took all of me not to turn back around and bitch her out. I took the "bigger person" route and kept ignoring. I payed for my purchases and thanked the cashier. I gave the lady a sideways look and left.
The nerve on some people!
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