This marks the end to an era. An era filled with lots of late nights and early mornings. You have helped me provide sustenance for my babies and also listened to my complaints in the middle of the night when no one else was there. I am grateful for the time you helped me extract milk from my chapped and sore boobs at 2am, 4am and sometimes 6am.
We had some laughs and some tears (mostly tears). And after 5 years of being inseparable you have also suffered some battle wounds. Not wounds like the ones I have such as saggy boobs, wrinkly tummy and the soul ripped out of you but some cracks and tape barely keeping you together. You are basically a metaphor for my current life.
While it may hurt you to tell you this, I am beyond relieved to be done after what felt like an eternity of being physically attached to you. So without further adieu, FUCK OFF MEDELA! 👋✌👏
Wednesday, May 23, 2018
It's been a long time coming...
What more appropriate lyrics to quote than Sam Cooke's, "A change is gonna come" for not only the current mood of the world but my life. Thoughts of feeling overwhelmed, stressed, alone, unaware, and sadness has me in the dumps lately. How do you begin to reconcile these feelings when there is also so much joy, love and gratitude that surrounds me. First lets start with the love and a little sadness; lately I have been spending a lot more time with the woman who raised me and known to everyone who know's her, "Granny". I may have talked a bit about Granny in my earlier post but to recap she is short, strong, angry and my protector. She was the madam of the Forty Flags Motel in the late 1980's through late 1990's. Granny now 78 years old and barely mobile shows the signs of her hard life. She started working in the Mississippi fields at the age of 5 and eventually ran away to California with her abusive and child molesting prince charming. She was the pillar of the family, the worker and the person we all come to rely on. Now, holding her up over the toilet as she's barely able to muster up the energy to drag her feet to get to the seat in time she urinates on the floor and me. She looks up at me in embarrassment and I looking back at her reminding myself to keep calm and stare back at her with compassion and understanding and rather than anger or disgust as the urine drips from my feet. During her stay I tried to ask her questions about her life and she mostly answered with regret, regret she never got to go to school, learn to read, leave her husband or save her children from addiction and death. Her overwhelming love for her children and grandchildren kept her working and providing. Her soft touch and temperament came from her own experience with abuse and telling herself she would choose love and kindness instead but at the same time stab anyone who crosses her. Her life reminded me of why I love her so much but sadness for her vulnerability, regrets and loss in life. I hope I can continue to spend more time, as we all will become a distant memory in this world. Overwhelmed and stressed, I just got a promotion and while this has been the high of my career I am not totally sure I can manage. Self doubt and feelings of stress often feels all consuming. Do I change this shit diaper, get dinner on the table or complete this report in time? I'm sure all moms understand the feeling of wanting it all but also not knowing how to juggle because you are not a professional fucking juggler. Who willingly signs up for this shit? But we are here now so lets get it done I guess is the attitude of getting by.
Unaware, I don't know anything honestly. I feel out of the loop with the latest if it doesn't directly affect my life. I feel like I have always wanted to be impactful in this world and a strong believer you get what you give but lately feeling I don't have much to offer. Here take this baby for 5 minutes, I promise they haven't shat their pants. I'm not that ultra hip Latina who is all, "Viva la Raza", instead I'm more average slightly chistosa and slightly awkward one that doesn't physically stand in the crowds to make change but just passively tells people they are wrong. I use to tell people to fuck off quite often but don't have the energy to be that political or combative anymore. I'm basically the person showing up late to the punchline of life but still laughs to fit in but totally obvious I'm just faking it. And forget about the latest trends and keeping up this impossible standard of beauty. I don't care about your butt squats or diets, politely fuck off cause ain't nobody got time for that. Joy and gratitude. Looking at the little feet of the New Thang I think gosh how did I get so lucky to have such a sweet little boy and honestly all my 3 really adorable children. If you are up to speed with this blog you know growing up and coming where I'm from it truly amazes me how far I have come. I am the fucking gentrifier, but does it count if you were once the underserved? Crazy right? One day you live in a roach infested motel with ladies of the night, dope fiends and pimps and the next you are in the hottest up and coming suburb where whites feel threatened the very social fabric of what makes "their" America great is coming to an end. No more separate but equal assholes, we are now moving in. I really do get pleasure from being able to actually walk into a store without feeling I don't belong. While I still look ragged and have vomit on my shirt, this time it's by choice baby! Middle finger to you lady who thought I would make a great housecleaner. More love. The warm embrace and soft kiss of my beautiful husband who not as often as he once did, still does remind me I am beautiful and the love of his life. My 3 little monsters that call me mom and tug at my shirt to get them milk, candy, toys, scream in my ear and often slap me but at the same time hug me the tightest and are my biggest cheerleaders in life. This is everything I need to feel safe, encouraged and keep it moving. If you find yourself alone, find another source of comfort with friends, family or whatever will make think you are worth fighting for because in the famous words of fictional character Stuart Smalley who is not a license therapist (Look this dude up), "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me!"
Lately in trying to keep myself from losing my stool, I have been trying to do everything everyone has ever told me to do under stress, breathe, count to 10, leave the room, leave the house, take a walk, punch a pillow or a person, but none of these things ever seem to work. Kid Sophie has been spitting some knowledge I didn't know young kids could have at this age. His perspective on life is unbiased and pure. He say's whatever he wants unfiltered. I will say, when he tells me I have nose hair it does make me feel like the shy 12 year old middle school nerd girl again. Today he almost ate a small packet of cookies and my natural reaction was to overreact, I gasped "You ate almost all the cookies" I didn't want him to spoil his dinner or worse rot his teeth. He simply replied, "Mom it's OK there will be more cookies" And just like that my anger turned into a little laughter and also perspective.
He was right in so many ways and on so many levels.
I look at the world with all this complexity and hurdles I must get through but to Kid Sophie it's simple if one thing doesn't work out or finishes there will be more to come. It doesn't have be as complicated as I currently see it. But the challenge is how do I adopt this into my life unfiltered and unbiased from others. Kid Sophie allows himself to feel the anger, hurt and laughter and I need to allow him to explore these more so that he can become better at understanding himself, others and the world around him. He continues to say calming words to his parents under distress that include, "Take a deep breathe", "It's going to be OK", and my favorite,"Mom, mom, please stop you are making my brain hurt". These all speak to my overreaction to adversities and life experiences. I just have to keep reminding myself that yes stool happens and the goal is to make sure I remind myself that I am fortunate that in life more cookies are to come, they may not be the ones I'm use to or not as big and even broken into pieces but I am sure I will still eat then and they will be just as delicious.
It's been a while since my last post and things look a bit different now. We have 1 or possibly 2 new additions to the family. We have a new queen of the house who we will call my Boss Lady and a fresh out of the oven bun, who we think slightly resembles someone looking for their next score, Lil Leroy (2 weeks old)
Things are also looking a bit shaky in the USA. Donald Trump, a privileged con artist who cannot make a coherent tweet let alone a sentence has become the 45th president of the United States. We will look back at this time with shame and disgust that we allowed such a half wit run the country in his attempt to, "Make America Great Again", AKA return to White privilege in which separate and equal was all the rage.
Most folks are walking around with the head not in the clouds but rather fixated on their phones/devices and asses. In which a, "like", "share" or "tweet" about causes has become humanitarian rather than actual work (I can't really complain since I am no longer in the field but definitely strive to be one day). Taking selfies has become so extreme people have fallen to their deaths in attempt for the best selfie shot. Documenting our lives on social media and following fake idols and idolizing, sexualizing, fantasizing and developing self esteem issues is the thing. We are striving for a false perfection projected and forced fed to us daily. I can't seem to focus or spend quality time without wanting to like, share or get some sort of validation for my personal accomplishment which I have to say aren't that fucking special.
Kid Sophie, Boss Lady and Lil Leroy have kept me in check and focused on what really matters, making them food and changing their diapers, hell yes! My heart is full and looking at those little boogers makes me filled with hope or at least praying that their future will somehow be filled with acceptance of all people from all walks of life and they can go anywhere without feeling like an "Other". God Bless America and the whole damn world.
I thought I had left fear back in its place a long time ago. I let go of it because it only grew and festered forcing me to stay indoors and isolate myself from the world as I feared it for a long time. When I first started working and going to college I was forced to have more interactions with people and strangers and that fear of the world and human interaction slowly dissipated. People for the most part were receptive and when I gained the courage to smile I was pleasantly surprised to get smiles back and with that I started to feel the fear running off to some small corner deep inside. People in the real world weren't so bad especially when you smile or take the time to say hello. It allowed for more open conversations with others.
When I worked at a group home in college I had a conversation with a man who at the time also worked with me. We were working the overnight shift when he shared some of his fears and asked me very blatant and without hesitation, "Why are people afraid of black men?" I was not sure how to answer that because surely I didn't fear black men or at least I didn't think I did. He talked about his experience with the police and being mistaken for a criminal and striped of his rights. Taking precautions not to look suspicious to others by smiling and overly being the "Nice" guy, and walking on the other side of the street when he saw white women to ease their mind. I felt sad for him especially since my Uncle Teddy who I mention quite often in the blog is also black and we had a very close bond before his death. I couldn't help to think Teddy also had these experiences throughout his life.
I am a brown person but my skin color seems to be on the lighter side so my experience differed from many of my other relatives. My brothers often pulled over and even jailed. The system there to protect them eventually mentally broke them down and they even gave in to the notion they were not worth more than the criminal they were labeled. It's strange but our world I notice is embedded with deep rooted hysteria of the "other".
The recent news events have brought me back to a place of my childhood where I would fear attacks from police (granted my family were criminals) and strangers. You see I ascribe to Islam and so does my now newly expanded family. The rhetoric that is seen all over the media first Mexicans being rapist and needing a ban on new immigration from Mexico and now a full fledged attack on a religion has caused me to fear for not only for myself this time but my family. I cannot fathom having to deal with tears from my son or daughter and being singled out for being different. I have fought to many of battle during my life to try to create a world for them that felt safe and free from fear.
I want them to also feel I how felt when I started to smile and received the smiles back and gave me hope that the world is in fact filled with beauty and love not only from the ones we hold dear but complete strangers willing to share their fears and hopes. I pray for people who lose their lives to ignorance and violence but we cannot let that fear fester and isolate ourselves from our neighbors and relatives.
Bringing up a new baby along with Toddler Sophie is a bit challenging. No one said I had to spread my love so much so it almost reaches the moon. It's tough to see Toddler Sophie's face as I hold Baby Sistoh in my arms. Things are so new for him and the transition seems emotionally tough for us both. Toddler Sophie slept in our bed up until a month before her birth (Don't get on my case mom police). His comfort and warmth and occasional slaps and kicks to the face and stomach are all missed. He asked his Baba last night, "Where is Mama?" and then answered his own question with, "She is sleeping with Baby Sistoh." My heart ached a bit upon hearing this. It's all so new for the family so we will continue to spread the love and hope the newness of it all settles. Toddler Sophie Mama is proud of how you are handling this phase at your age and hope to see you and Baby Sistoh fighting over toys an blaming each other on broken items I find in the house, which upon finding I will gasp and probably squeal but try not to hold that against me.
