“It’s okay Mom, he’s just different”

I felt my heart fill with pride at this wise statement. I felt proud of her (and frankly, I felt silly about my statement) and I was once again stunned at what an old soul Andrea is.

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I was very careful when teaching Andrea about being the same and being different. I tried to teach her that being different is okay. I wanted to be sure she understood this because Andrea is physically very different. In this country where people exalt those who have straight hair and fair complexion, Andrea is an underdog. She will definitely be called upon for being darker or for having curly hair and I needed her to understand right from the start that it is okay to be different.

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When we dress up we point out who has similar clothes and who has different clothes. For example “Daddy and Andrea both have buttons on their shirt, Mommy doesn’t. Mommy’s different”, or “Mommy and Daddy have rings, Andrea doesn’t. Andrea’s different”.

In any case, we celebrate. We’re happy if we’re wearing something similar to someone else, and we’re happy when we’re different.

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Two months ago Andrea asked why her classmates have watches and she doesn’t. I have to admit I was tempted to get her a crazy ass cute watch right there and then just so she will be the envy of her classmates. But then really, what does that teach her? So I just swallowed my ego and told her “Oh really? That’s nice. It’s really like that honey. Some kids have watches, some kids don’t. Some kids have pets, some kids don’t.  We all have different things”. She was satisfied with that and left me alone.

I’m not going to lie. The watch haunted me for weeks. I really don’t want Andrea to be so kawawa in school (so kawawa? how conyo!) I don’t want her to be left out and to be the only one who doesn’t have anything. But then again I also want her to grow up being okay with not having every single thing other kids have. So we waited for a month and got her one. I’m weak, what can I say.

Our pretend restaurant is her Wowa’s outdoor set. We usually “eat” leaves she picks from her lola’s garden…we of course only eat them after she has cooked them on her rock oven. I love it!

I soak in all of her creativity and her energy. I take such delight in watching her changing expression as she tries to come up with something new to do. It starts with furrowed brows, serious, intense, focused. Then comes a tiny glimmer in her eye as the idea slowly forms in her head. Then the grin as she excitedly shared that she is now making “flower soup”.

In the past weeks, or maybe it’s been months (but who’s counting anyway) Andrea has embraced pretend play, I am usually the willing accomplice in all of her charades. We have had classes, rodeos, parties, concerts, etc.

I truly value creativity in kids.  Because of this I have tried to limit very specialized and electronic toys.  I read somewhere that the more things a toy can do, the less a child can think (or imagine). I think Andrea and I will stick to our towels, pots, leaves, sticks and rocks thank you very much.

This question has been at the back of my mind since I was asked it around 3 weeks ago. The most disturbing thing about this question is that there is an implied statement within it. It’s saying “hey, you have let yourself go”. Now I have nothing against the person who asked me this question. I know her and love her and I know she meant this without any malice. In fact, when she asked me this a few weeks ago I basically just laughed it off. Then I found myself reflecting on this question — over and over again.

What does it mean? Why does she think I have let myself go? Do I feel like I have let myself go? So many questions and I don’t have any straight answer to any of them.

Letting oneself go basically refers to the physical appearance. So I assume she’s referring to the fact that I gained a gazillion pounds since high school and have stopped wearing so much make-up. I also stopped shopping for clothes, etc. So maybe, just maybe that’s what she was getting at.

To answer her question, I suppose it’s because there’s absolutely no need to get all primped up right now. And, living in a one income home I suppose it’s also not practical. I go out either with Ruy or with my daughter. Sabrina doesn’t care at all about how I look or what I’m wearing . Ruy on the other hand has never ever complimented me when I’m fully made up. It’s always when I’m not wearing make-up and in my house clothes. (PS, the last time he complimented me, I had barbecue stains on my shirt. Now that I think about it, I think it’s the barbecue sauce he found attractive) So what the hell is the point of getting all gussied up? To make other people happy? But I don’t care about other people!

I must admit though. I think I’ve become a bit too complacent when it comes to Ruy. I guess I feel so secure and so I don’t really feel the need to exert more effort. That’s very unhealthy and I really must do something about this.

I realized amidst my reflection that what my friend viewed as “letting myself go” I viewed as a shifting of priorities.  I have stopped needing that external validation from random strangers. I used to get a sort of high knowing someone was interested in me. In college I was astounded by how easy it was to have guys fawning over you….a bit of cleavage, a smile, make up…that’s it. But then I realized how unimportant those all were. Because eventually that guy who was fawning over you will find a bigger cleavage, a better smile, etc. and then what happens?

I know I should shape up. If not for vanity then for health reasons. And maybe, one of these days I’ll get my lazy ass going because my husband and daughter deserve a better me — I deserve a better me.

A Married Mother Well Under Way

Encrusted by the common-law gorge,
Crippling, which only the Canon Law bemused
See the only mulberry A-line accolade.

Husky, pest, relevantly bled to the pixel-clad; hark!
Revolving with the instruction for once.

The more you push!

When I was in college one of my best friends hit me.  Now, this best friend also happens to be the Summa Cum Laude for our entire batch so to say that he was a nerd would be quite accurate. One day, out of nowhere, he decided to hit me. I was surprised and I said “What the hell?” and he said “You see Newton’s Law dictates that when I hit you you also hit me back so there’s no need to try to take revenge on me”. I am not sure what happened after, I have a vague recollection of me running after him and him saying something more about Newton.

This came to mind while I was in a heated argument with Ruy yesterday. Somehow, we both felt like we were victims. Ruy was so pissed at me and I was just staring at him boggled. How could I feel like he’s being an ass and he is feeling like he’s such a martyr and I’m being a bitch? We experienced the exact same thing yet our experiences our minds apart. So I would say something trying to break down his argument and it would result in him saying something like “See, you’re being mean again” and then he would say something and I would say “Oh now who’s being mean”. In the end it really didn’t matter who was being hurtful or not, we were both hurt.

The fighting didn’t last long. And honestly, it was a stupid argument to begin with (it was about pulled pork sandwiches can you believe?). But after a while I started to back down, I realized that there’s a threshold in arguments that you shouldn’t cross and in relationships when you fight nobody wins.

Last Friday, Ruy found out that Andrea needed jeans to wear to school and guess what? She didn’t have any! So off we went to the mall and got her some which were on sale. The styles we got were all skinny jeans and when she put them on she literally aged right before our eyes.

The moment she put those jeans on. She stopped being our baby, she turned into this long slender girl. (I’ll take pictures later)

Not only did she stop looking like a baby, she stopped acting like one — just like that! I have a feeling the only thing holding her back is us treating her like a baby. The moment we stopped seeing her as a baby we stopped treating her like one. This allowed her to be more independent and to grow.