Showing posts with label ronald. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ronald. Show all posts
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.
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Sunday, June 16, 2013
Most holidays are a cause of celebration. People get together, they give each other gifts, sometimes a cake is involved...
There is a holiday in June, that I rarely celebrated when I was little, Father's day.
The only father I ever knew when I was a young child, was my grand-father.
Yes, I had a biological father, but he wasn't around much.
So, my dear grand-father was the daddy figure in my life and he was amazing.
He was the kind of father that loved with all his heart and was never afraid to show it.
He was the kind of father who would cook, do house chores and also do "manly" things like fix the house.
He was a carpenter, a shoe-maker, a plumber, a painter and many more things.
So one could understand why a six year old girl would experience total despair when said grand-father passed away. Right?
My father-daughter experience was short lived. I would never know that kind love again until I was older, much, much older.
Fast-forward a few years and I find myself traveling to a new country to meet my biological father. Sure, I had met him before but nothing important enough to leave a lasting memory of him.
He had a wife and three kids
You can imagine the joy a little nine year old girl might feel at the thought of having a daddy in her life. I was both nervous and excited.
My expectations were met short.
I don't want to get into too many details because this is not a post about him, but Take Two of my father-daughter experience was not a good one.
It was so bad in fact, that I decided men in general were no good.
Growing up I treated men with little respect. All of them were toys for me to play with and discard at my will.
Needless to say, I had a lot of "boyfriends" who came and went like nothing.
I vowed that I would never raise children with a man. I would get pregnant by some random stranger and raise my kid on my own. No man could be trusted, no man was good enough to be part of my family.
That all changed when I met my husband.
The circumstances under which we met were not common. The trials and tribulations we went through were right out of a movie. The love wasn't there from the start. Nobody would have thought that him and I would be a couple. I didn't even believe it, but it happened and we fell in love.
I didn't trust him completely, I had my issues with him, he was a man after all and men could not be trusted.
Still, being with him gave my heart peace. Being in his arms gave my soul a chance to rest, to stop running.
I started to sprout roots and settle in. I started to feel at home.
Right before and immediately after my son was born, I had my doubts. I was going to raise a child with a man and that scared me.
I shouldn't have been scared though. I had nothing to fear.
This man ultimately taught me what it is to be a daddy, and for that reason, this letter is to him.
If I could go back in time right now to the day my son was born, I would tell myself that everything would be alright. I finally found our daddy and our happy ending had begun.
There is a holiday in June, that I rarely celebrated when I was little, Father's day.
The only father I ever knew when I was a young child, was my grand-father.
Yes, I had a biological father, but he wasn't around much.
So, my dear grand-father was the daddy figure in my life and he was amazing.
He was the kind of father that loved with all his heart and was never afraid to show it.
He was the kind of father who would cook, do house chores and also do "manly" things like fix the house.
He was a carpenter, a shoe-maker, a plumber, a painter and many more things.
So one could understand why a six year old girl would experience total despair when said grand-father passed away. Right?
My father-daughter experience was short lived. I would never know that kind love again until I was older, much, much older.
Fast-forward a few years and I find myself traveling to a new country to meet my biological father. Sure, I had met him before but nothing important enough to leave a lasting memory of him.
He had a wife and three kids
You can imagine the joy a little nine year old girl might feel at the thought of having a daddy in her life. I was both nervous and excited.
My expectations were met short.
I don't want to get into too many details because this is not a post about him, but Take Two of my father-daughter experience was not a good one.
It was so bad in fact, that I decided men in general were no good.
Growing up I treated men with little respect. All of them were toys for me to play with and discard at my will.
Needless to say, I had a lot of "boyfriends" who came and went like nothing.
I vowed that I would never raise children with a man. I would get pregnant by some random stranger and raise my kid on my own. No man could be trusted, no man was good enough to be part of my family.
That all changed when I met my husband.
The circumstances under which we met were not common. The trials and tribulations we went through were right out of a movie. The love wasn't there from the start. Nobody would have thought that him and I would be a couple. I didn't even believe it, but it happened and we fell in love.
I didn't trust him completely, I had my issues with him, he was a man after all and men could not be trusted.
Still, being with him gave my heart peace. Being in his arms gave my soul a chance to rest, to stop running.
I started to sprout roots and settle in. I started to feel at home.
Right before and immediately after my son was born, I had my doubts. I was going to raise a child with a man and that scared me.
I shouldn't have been scared though. I had nothing to fear.
This man ultimately taught me what it is to be a daddy, and for that reason, this letter is to him.
To a father,
Thank you for loving me, thank you for giving me a space in your heart. Thank you for allowing me to hurt and to heal and thank you for being there to hold my hand while I did it. I love you more than any blog post can express. You are my Prince in yellow shiny armor.
Although you are not my father, you did teach me the kind of love a father is capable of. Thank you for being there when our son was born. Thank you for encouraging me to push harder when I had nothing left in me. I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for cuddling him when he cried. Thank you for all the pooppy diapers you changed, I hated those. Thank you for staying up late at night rocking him to sleep when I was so exhausted to do it myself. Thank you for kissing our son's boo boos away. Thank you for reading him Dr. Seuss books in full character voices. Thank you for missing us so much when we go to Peru. We miss you too when we are away from you. Thank you for being our rock, our stability, our safe heaven. Thank you for being all the things the others weren't. Thank you for showing me what a real family looks like. Thank you for showing me love, pure and unconditional. Thank you so much for allowing me to grow into myself and giving me time to love you. Thank you for every single little thing you do. You have no idea how much it means to me to feel like I belong somewhere. Thank you so much for giving me my fairy-tale ending. Thank you a million times for being in my life.
I learned from you that men can be real daddy's if they really wanted to. I finally met a man who could fill my grand-father's shoes and exceed my expectations. Our son is blessed to have you as a father.
Thank you.
If I could go back in time right now to the day my son was born, I would tell myself that everything would be alright. I finally found our daddy and our happy ending had begun.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
I mean, yes, he is a very good kid, but it's not always that way.
There are times, like right now for example while he is trying to catch me with a piece of string and tie me down until I scream, that I want to strangle him.
Obviously, I don't want to harm my child, but it gets to that point where I think to myself "wtf did I get myself into by having a child?!"
I try to set rules and guidelines, but I am also of the belief that children need to be children so I let him do his own thing as well.
For example, I will allow him to draw pretty pictures with markers on his own body or clothing, but I will not allow him to do it on the walls. My reasoning behind it is, the walls belong to all of us, it's something we should respect, but his clothes are his and I don't care if they get stained. He's the one that's going to have to wear them not me.
When it comes to mealtime, we never force him to eat everything. Yes, we encourage him to finish all of the yumminess daddy and mommy worked so hard to make, but he is a such a good healthy eater anyway, so it really doesn't matter if he didn't finish all of the vegetables in his plate once in a while.
What drives me insane though is when he starts playing with food. I loathe it!
Just eat the damn banana dude! You do not have to use the tail of your toy airplane to cut it into pieces...
Recently he has gotten to the point where he likes to yell back. I am not afraid or ashamed to admit that I have raised my voice at him. I refuse to be ordered around by a three year old and my mean voice usually demands attention and respect. But, not too long ago, I heard him yell at Ronald when he asked him to clean something up.
It went something like this:
Ronald: "Luka, go put (insert toy here) away."
Luka: "no.."
Ronald: "Luka, go put (insert toy here again) away please."
Luka: "No!"
Ronald: "Luka carajo guarda ese juguete ahora antes que me moleste!" (Spanish daddy getting angry)
Luka: "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"
I couldn't help but laugh, very quietly of course, but I also didn't like that Luka was yelling back. I didn't intervene, I usually don't, unless Ronald comes and asks for help. Then I have to put my angry voice to work to get things done.
So yes, raising this little boy is beautiful, I love that he is his own person that doesn't always agree with me. I mean, I won't admit this to him now, but I am glad that he questions things and pushes boundaries. I want him to carry this with him until he is an adult. Never conform, always ask the why behind anything.
Still, he drives me nuts at least once a day. As he gets older, he finds new ways to test my temper, and the more he does it, the meaner I seem to get. I have to remind myself that I love this child, I carried this child in my now stretch-marked belly for nine months and it was all worth it. Otherwise we might both end up in the front page of all major newspapers saying that some crazy lady hung her kid by the feet while she started chanting to the moon to release the evil spirits from him.
Or something crazy like that...
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