Nachi's pointless rants and recollections

Today is the day. One year ago baby Luka was born.
Yesterday I started remembering everything that went on while I was in labor. Ronald and I started to remember details and times, and little scares we had. At midnight he came home from work and after coming out of the shadow we stared at our sleeping baby counting the minutes to his 1 year birthday.
I became so emotional, not only because this is such a great milestone, but because it has also been one year since I transitioned from being a woman to becoming a mom.
I became more self aware of my abilities, I did things that I never thought I would, I became a parent and my whole life changed as no other event could have changed it.

Responsibility was no longer optional, it was essential. I could no longer plan my day around my mood or sleep pattern, everything had to be done around the baby. It may seem like a bad thing, but I loved knowing that I had a little person in my life who required so much and I was the one who could give it to him. My love, my affection, my caring, I gave him all and I still do.
He is a bit temperamental but to me that screams character. There will be a time when I will have to teach him to be a big boy, but for now he is my baby and I am so proud of him.

I heard him babble his first word (teta), saw him crawl for the first time (backwards), and get his first scare when Ronald turned the blender on.
His first tooth was such a thrill, and his massive cold was such hard time for both. So many things we've shared together, so many memories made in just one year.
This has been the greatest year in my whole life and it is all because of him.

I love you Luka, mommy and daddy love you.
Happy Bday.

Before you go and start bashing me and telling me how wrong I am, I urge to relax and keep reading.
I come from Peru and in my country breastfeeding is as normal as holding hands or sneezing. Women everywhere do it all the time wherever they are, be it in the bus, in a park bench or while having breakfast on an outdoor setting. I grew up around this environment seeing my mother breastfeed both my sisters.
Now why is breastfeeding so over rated for me? It isn't, I think it's the most superb thing there is and I can't keep talking about it. I talk about it on facebook, I talk about it on yahoo answers, I even talk about it at home, so much so that my boyfriend is fed up with it.
So that's where the title of this post comes from, it is him who is so over the breastfeeding "phenomenon." Like me, he also grew up seeing breastfeeding mothers do their thing wherever and whenever so when he hears about all the support groups and public breastfeeding sittings he laughs and says it's all ridiculous.

"Why do you need support groups for?" he would ask.
"So that women can be supported when they can't do it on their own," I would say.
"Don't they have their mothers for that?"
"Sometimes their mothers are as clueless as they are."
"Aunts maybe?"
"Nope"
"Neighbor?"
"Errr, no..."

So I have to explain to him that our culture is different from this one when it comes to breastfeeding. Not everyone here grew up around breastfeeding, not everyone here has a mother, aunt, or friendly neighbor who can help them. Sometimes everyone around them don't have a clue since they didn't have that environment either. That's why is such a big deal, that's why support groups exist, that is why people breastfeed in public sometimes, to encourage, to educate, to promote this wonderful thing women can do. Yes, it's wonderful, it's miraculous.
Not only did we conceive and carried a child for nine months, but we also produce the food that will sustain them for a years. Yes years! What more of a miracle do you want.
That's why I write about it, that's why I share what I do. I'm not the "flash your boob in yo' face" kind of gal, but just because I'm in a crowded subway car filled with strangers doesn't mean I'm going to let my baby cry out of hunger. If I have to show skin then let the show begin!
Well that last part is besides the point, the point is that even though my boyfriend fully supports me and even though he knows of all the benefits of breastfeeding, he is still up to his nose with all the drama as he calls it.
"Why can't women just breastfeed without making a fuss, they act like they're saving the world and they're not, they're just feeding their children, what's the big deal?"
That's what he said to me today and he's right. I made an argument about how my breastfeeding in public would encourage other mothers to do it, and discourage sourpusses to stay away if they don't like it, but he shrugged it off and said to simply breastfeed, that is all. So today I decided that I would do just that. Simply breastfeed, minus the drama.

Since the birth of Luka, my son, I've had a big issue with self esteem. I love that I carried my son for nine months and that I delivered a healthy baby, but what I don't love is the fact that my body has become a big ball of saggy skin over barely toned muscle. Now I've never been the thin type but I did have some curves that I loved. Now all that is gone.
So, the issue with me was that I was feeling less than attractive and nothing seemed to cheer me up. That is until I discovered make-up.
Ah yes make-up. Some of you must think I'm being superficial or that make-up is just a cover up for imperfections, and I think you are somewhat right. The difference for me is that I'm not a big make-up wearer, never have been.
Nonetheless, as the girl that I am, I have owned a few make-up products that I applied once in a while for an outing, but now...
I've become obsessed with make-up videos on youtube. A lot of talented people like petrilude, Marlena from MakeupGeekTV, and MichellePhan among others are video sensations when it comes to the tutorials. They are good at what they do and they have inspired me to broaden my make-up knowledge.
Since then I've watched hundreds of videos, tutorials, I've searched for many products online and joined several make-up forums.
One of my favorite things to do is play one of the tutorials while I apply the make-up and try out a look. Sometimes I get it right, and sometimes I don't lol.
Now, everything is good I suppose, no harm done right?
Not! I've become so obsessed that I literally want to shop for make-up everyday! But not being impressed with drugstore brands, I like to shop at Sephora. Yes, Sephora, it's like crack, not that I would know, but I hear it's very addicting.
Sephora is filled with make-up brands of all kinds at a somewhat pricey range but the quality cannot be beat.
My favorite brand? Urban Decay of course. They have pretty shimmery high pigmented colors and fun stuff that will make anybody squeal.
I used to believe that you could only put one color of eyeshadow on your lid and that was it. Boy was I wrong, I've learned about blending, and highlighting, brushes to use to achiever that perfect smokey eye and whatnot.
Now, I'm not an expert, I'm far from it, but prettying myself up and trying on new looks has raised my self esteem tons. I just believe that even though I still look like a flappy mess, I can feel pretty by playing around with my make-up.

Tomorrow is a big day, well today actually because it's already Friday. There is a Sephora store opening at 97th and Columbus and I can't wait! I'll be sure to write about my experience and posts pics.
Bye now.

Sometimes, I'm watching a movie, or listening to an upbeat tune and it hits me.
Inspiration, it just comes.
Why?
I'm not very sure, inspiration comes spontaneously without warning. And that's when you have only a few minutes to make something of it. Let me explain.
Once inspiration hits you have to act on it, if you don't sometimes it slips away. It goes away. When it's gone, it may not come back right away. You can't will it to come back. It doesn't work that way.

Now I can prove this. Some of my writings are first drafted on pieces of scrap paper or napkins. It's just one of those things that require your all right way.

Sometimes inspiration comes from the most unlikely things such as an odd action or random words. Even memories inspire me, they inspire me to write about me, about anything and everything. Funny how it works.

So there it is.
What inspired me to write this?
I'm watching a movie, a musical nonetheless, my favorite.

Well the time has come. Luka is almost six months.
Yeah, I know, six months is a big milestone to reach, but that's not the only thing that has come. The time has come for me to redirect my life.
When I was pregnant I decided that I would be a stay at home mom for at least six months to give proper care for him. I wanted him to have his mommy all for himself.
Well now I'm beginning my search for a job and I'm also thinking about going back to school.

What brought this on?

Well.....

I love my mother, I loved and still love my grandmother and all the people who have raised me but so far none of them have further education beyond high school.
I've seen my mother struggle to find her place in a company where they use you up and spit you up once you're no use to them. Now she's forty something and she thinks she's too old for anything.
Could a college degree help? Well I think so.
I know I am my mom's most precious thing along with my two other sisters, and I know that she chose me instead of pursuing her life when she found out she was pregnant at 18. Yet, I know that she would have wanted to do more with her life.
I don't want to be forty something and wonder why in the world I didn't do anything else.

So, the search has begun. I am signing myself up for next fall semester and I pray that I can find a job that will meet both my salary and time requirements.
Then one day when Luka and my other future children are grown, they can look at me and use me as an example of what they should do with their own lives.

That is all, bye bye. :)

A few years ago I had a very strange dream. I was dreaming about Peru. Some mornings back home, I would wake up to the smell of smoke, this usually meant that either my grandma or some neighbor had a cooking fire on. I didn't really mind the smell but it woke me up nonetheless. So I was dreaming about this, yet my head told me that it wasn't dream, my nose was actually smelling smoke. I also started hearing pounding on my door and window. Little by little I started to wake up and realized that the smell was very real and the sounds too.

Everything happened very fast, one moment I heard my father in law banging loudly at our door screaming for us to come out, then I felt Ronald's hand around mine dragging me half naked outside the house. I then found myself wrapped in my bed covers wearing only pj's and socks half freezing in the chilly near-winter season.
Firefighters came quickly. Neighbors were crying, I was still partly thinking it was a dream. Where was the fire though? I remember seeing smoke, but no fire, was it in my upstairs neighbor's apartment? Was that the reason they were crying? And why were the firemen climbing tall ladders to get to our roof?

I don't know how long I was there, but it all seemed to happen rather quickly. Patrick was scared, he was very small then. Ronald kept telling me it was alright. I think he even went back inside to check after he had pulled me out. Now that I think of it, that was really stupid of him.

After we were allowed to go back inside, we all started to tell our stories to put the puzzle pieces together and make sense of the events.
Turns out there was no fire. It also turns out, that the whole thing happened in our apartment. Apparently, our oven was turned on and that's what caused the smoke out. How? Well my mother uses the oven as storage and she puts her pans in there. What she also keeps in there is her big wooden cutting board. When the oven was left on it started heating up the big wooden block and that's what caused the smoke. It had been going on for a few hours. Why didn't we notice? Well Ronald and his dad work in a bakery and they come home after midnight if not later. They go to sleep rather late and wake up after 10 a.m. or so. Our schedules are messed up like that. My mother in law had gone to work and the only person home was Patrick. He was watching tv in the living room without a clue of what was happening in the kitchen.
Our room is all the way in the back of the apartment, past the kitchen in fact. We have a emergency ladder which my neighbors used to knock on our window since nobody would answer the door. When Ronald woke up and opened the door to see why his dad was yelling, he saw that the whole kitchen was filled with smoke. His dad was already outside with Patrick. He yanked me out of the bed, ducked me as low as he could and pulled (or shoved) me through the kitchen and out the door.
Ah, now I remember, he went back for the covers because I was freezing cold. He wasn't stupid, he was being thoughtful (still stupid but I forgive him.)

When his mom got home we asked her why she had left the oven on. Was she going to cook something and forgot? Was she trying to kill her family and start over? (I still tease my boyfriend about this last part)
She says she didn't do it, and that it must have done on its own. We will never know what really happened, but I sure will never forget that day.

It's that time again, the Christmas season. How wonderful! Right?
Well technically yes, but I feel like crap.

Just last month I was fantasizing about what my answer would be if Santa Claus were to ask me what I wanted for Christmas. My answer was "Nothing, I have everything I want." And it was true, I have a family, a real one, a real family I can call my own. It's hard to understand, I have a mother and a father, but they're not a family, and they both have families of their own, and I have half brothers and sisters, but none of them seem to belong to me. This time though, I have son, and wonderful guy who is both a great partner and father. This is my family, my very own family and there is nothing greater in the world than that.
I'm also healthy, I don't suffer from any illnesses, I'm thankful for that.
I have a roof over my head and I always have something to eat. I have everything I could ever ask for and more.

Then why do I feel so down?

It's around this time of year that despite all I have, I remember all I don't have.
I miss my mother, we aren't very close but God knows I love her dearly and I miss my little sisters as well. They in Peru and I haven't seen them for a couple of years.
I miss my grandparents, they're both in heaven, but I just wish that for one night, just one night I could have them back, just for a little while, to give them a hug and a kiss, just for a little while. A girl can dream can't she?
I know this may sound corny, but I also wish I had a lot of money, not for me though, I wish I had a lot of money to give away. I wish I was able to buy a truckload of coats and presents and go around all day long and give them out to the needy. Yeah, yeah, I know, but it's just something I wish I could do.
It just breaks my heart to think of all those families who can't afford to celebrate Christmas, they can't afford to have a Christmas dinner or buy their kids presents.
Some of them don't even have a place to sleep in. How awful to be them this time around, it makes me sad that I can't change that.

There are many things among all these that have me feeling down.
Today in particular it was the fact that I am sick, I have a cold. It's my own fault though, the weather got ugly and I wasn't prepared.
Another thing that went wrong was that I have to go to work tomorrow and I have no freaking milk to leave for my baby.
Whoever said nursing mothers "can" go to work and still give their babies breast milk is full of it!
It's doable I guess, but it's very complicated. I didn't realize I had run out of frozen milk and I'm pumping like crazy to leave him something to eat for tomorrow.
He'll have to deal with formula as dreadful as that sounds, but it's better than starving.
I guess it's my own fault too since I should have checked the supply a couple of days ago, anyway, what's done is done.

The drop that spilled over the glass was my boyfriend. I know, I know, I've said wonderful things about him, but today he was a selfish meany.
He is telling me how tired he is and how sick he feels. I'm like "DUDE! I'm tired too, I have things to do and I'm tired too!"
I know he doesn't mean to hurt me, but the damage was done. I cried for a while trying to pump some milk and I only got drops, then I decided to give up and whine about it here in my blog.
So sorry guys for putting you through my misery, but who else do I talk to?
I could talk to myself but that doesn't really help.

Oh well, I'm rambled on for too long. I need to calm myself down and embrace the positive again.
Merry Christmas all.