Roles & Time

As moms, we wear many hats, and costumes.  Yet the most important role, I feel,  I have is being blessed with the opportunity of parenthood.  All the other undertaking that is present in my life has been put there by me and me alone.  I have chosen to pursue further education, while my daughters are still very young, and let’s just say it has not been easy on anyone from my husband to my-self.

 Now with that said here comes the magic part I’ve yet to master. Time….  Time has to be the biggest enemy against accomplishing any dream in life.  There is never enough of it, even when you believe; you have found a way to manage it.  How can one get through 5 quizzes, 2 forums, 16 chapters, plus work, and play the most amazing role mom and family Time!!! 

What an evil theory!!!!

The only step, I have been able to understand, but not master is mommy-hood.  If, I want to succeed in my career, then I need to continue nurturing the little ones at home, because that is what will matter most in the end.  Everything else, I will just play with the scale for as long as I can, without giving up. 

I may not catch up to Time, but I will figure out, how to wind- it- up, at my pace!

 ImageGirls art project balanced on Time!

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Y si caminas oh caminaste espero que al andar llagaste al camino menos buscado pero anelado…

Connecting her first love…

Our first love is full of warmth, comfort, safety, but mostly security.  Nothing can divide and conquer that unexpected connection at first sight.  Blood rushes through every vessel, droplets break through the skin as the heat permeates the body.  Unsure of the next move the excitement has moved into an internal party as the only sounds are the ones coming from inside you.  
Focus, focus screams are now coming from the outside; eyes are now regaining sight of the exterior world.  A daughter holding her father’s finger for the first time.  The heat begins to turn to ice; he looks down and wraps the blanket around her while gently saying sweet-nothing into her ears.  That voice carries volume into her small newborn body soothing her to sleep night after night.  She cries for him in his absence sending waves of fear into the receiver.  He drops everything for her and with his massive hands gently swooping down mimicking a hungry bird that has found his prey he lands her small innocent body on to his forearm and palm as a pilot with his precious plan.
Who would have thought a father could be turned into such a cuddly pillow, but that’s what she has done with her small frame, big brown eyes, and rosy red lips that pout when things did not go her way.  Although she soon learned to blink twice, lower her voice all while squeaking out Daddy please!  After this he never stood a chance in winning a child’s fight and giving into her desires.  
She constantly stares into midair, or so leading others to believe; in reality she was studying her father.  With admiration she would watch everything he knew how to do, how tough he could be when needed to, yet always gentle around her and her mom.  She would see him leave to work every day and return home with a smile; asking her how her day was at school.  He would listen to every story that was told; each with as much passion as the next.  To make sure daddy was still paying attention every so often she would glance over and gently place her cup size hands on his face.
That morning the sun began warming up the bed causing the sheets to be kicked off and allowing the heat to kiss her rosy cheeks.  Dad forgets to knock again and opens the door shouting “wake up, it’s time for school”.  She rolls over and screams “you didn’t knock, is there no privacy in this house”.  As he walks away he wonders where his little princess has gone.  
Light pink lip gloss now covers her once naturally rosy lips, accompanied by a tint of plum on her cheeks; her long brown hair is combed up into a pony-tail, while her big brown eyes now blink twice for the captain of the basketball team.  He’s strong, cute, protective, and loves to whisper sweet-nothing into her ears.  Promising the world, she falls into one of Shakespeare’s plays simultaneously pushing her first love into an abyss.
 
The captain has now become first in line, in her heart.  Ups and downs also join the relationship; unsure on how to handle she gives in and allows her teenager love to flourish into a full dressed garden.  The aroma of the red roses with the sweet masked scent of Casablancas surround and enclose her thoughts, until a bee looking for honey stings her.  Full of tears she runs back home frantically to her father.
Warmth, comfort, and security she feels back in the arms of her first love.  She tells him as much as she feels he can handle without causing him disappointment.  She feels him gently exhale and his heart slowly beats to every tear she sheds onto his shirt;  reminding him of his lost princess.Image

Scorpiolife

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It was a regular Monday afternoon, the twins and I arrived on our street from daycare. I carried Sophia while Lily decided to walk and jump over every line on the ground. All of a sudden Sophia wanted to mimic her sister, so I let both of them walk. I would rather carry them since I can control the walk and get to my building faster, but then I decided to stop being a paranoid father.

I have a record for being overly nervous with kids. After a minute or so my nerves got the best of me as Lily was running faster and pulling away from Sophia and me. My instincts took over and I picked up Sophia in a fluid motion without breaking stride and caught up to Lily. I asked her to give me her hand, she immediately declined my offer. I grabbed her hand anyways just…

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Lily’s Baby

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It was a regular Monday afternoon, the twins and I arrived on our street from daycare. I carried Sophia while Lily decided to walk and jump over every line on the ground. All of a sudden Sophia wanted to mimic her sister, so I let both of them walk. I would rather carry them since I can control the walk and get to my building faster, but then I decided to stop being a paranoid father.

I have a record for being overly nervous with kids. After a minute or so my nerves got the best of me as Lily was running faster and pulling away from Sophia and me. My instincts took over and I picked up Sophia in a fluid motion without breaking stride and caught up to Lily. I asked her to give me her hand, she immediately declined my offer. I grabbed her hand anyways just because I had a feeling something might go wrong.

We approached a driveway to the building right before ours and a driver in a car noticed us and gave me the nod that it was OK to pass. As soon as we passed, Lily yells: “my baby”, she dropped her doll right in the middle of the driveway. All three of us witnessed Lily’s baby get crushed. I saw a devastated, shocking look in her face; then Lily yells: “bad car bad car” at least three times.

As soon as we enter our home both girls started yelling outside the window: “bad cars Lily’s baby”. I was happy because this tough time my twin daughters found a common bond and learned about team work.

Guest post by Mr. Hubby

Dominican Cereal

It was the summer of 1986; my brother and I were spending the entire summer in the Dominican Republic between relatives, in particular with great-grandma. Our first morning was the start of our humbleness. We had asked great-grandma to give us cereal for breakfast. Of course all Spanish people call every brand, and make of cereal, cereal.

Our uncle had not returned from milking the cows, because of this great-grandma decided to let us feed the hens and roosters. A while later from a far distance we see our uncle coming with the milk pales. We could hardly contain ourselves, and after feeding the hens and roosters, she called us into the dining area. It was the biggest bowl of cereal I had ever seen in my life. I thought I was going to be eating the whole dinner salad by myself, but wait! The bowl had smoke coming out of it.

Once she placed the bowl down my brother and I looked at each other with the biggest blank look known to man kind. We had just seen the breakfast ghost. What happened to our honey combs? We felt so betrayed, especially by the cereal company. How could they let this happen?

The bowl consisted of hot smoking white milk and wheels of yellow plantains. As much as we wanted to leave this nightmare of a breakfast behind us, we did not dare get up or question the idea. Instead we prepared our selves and eat every single bite. First by blowing the white hot milk and then scoping up a spice of steroid induced, wannabe honey combs, guiding the spoon to mymouth as I held my breath and every time there after.

The next morning we planned to awaken earlier, but to no avail she beat us to the kitchen and had already prepared breakfast for us. With her smile from ear to ear she tells us that my mother had informed her that we loved cereal for breakfast, and being we eat all of her special cereal she would now be preparing it for us for breakfast. Great, now we are taking place in an episode of the Twilight Zone, but who’s going to rewrite the script to this horrible cereal ordeal.

Two weeks later and probably 10lbs heavier from all that protein and fiber, we finally left great-grandma’s house. We felt such a relief; there was no way we could continue to have Dominican cereal as she called it. We could not wait to have something different at our aunt’s home in the City.  The next morning we decided to sleep in later, now that we did not have feed any animals or wait for the milk to be fetched and boiled. Finally our aunt calls us for breakfast. As we sat in our respectable chairs, we could not believe our eyes.

The Dominican cereal made its way from the country side to the city in the matter of a sun rise.  My brother’s eyes looked as if they belonged to an owl, while my expressions were not hard to miss. We were in so much disbelief that, I decided to ask my aunt what was this? Her reply was so simple, as if she had rehearsed it, replying great- grandma told her and the rest of our relatives that this happens to be our favorite cereal.

Breakfast after breakfasts we started to believe that there must have been a conspiracy against us, or we were just crazy. The only consolation prize was the fact it did not taste horrible it actually tasted great. Though it was just wrong; cereal should be enjoyed with cold milk and has that crunchy noise indicating the authenticity of this American cereal.

After a summer vacation that turned into a three year hiatus, we could no longer remember what American cereal was like. We were so hooked or brain washed that we only wanted Dominican cereal. For the first week after we arrived back to the US, we continued our great- grandma’s breakfast trend setting, until the second week. We accidentally rediscovered peanut butter and jelly sandwiches; needless to say it was all over.

Today as adults we love reminiscing about that 1986 summer that turned into a hiatus. Our first thought has always been the Dominican cereal that followed us from the country side to the city and the rest of our time spent in the Dominican Republic.