When I met David, he was still in high school. He was young, handsome, driven, athletic and one of the most charismatic people I'd ever met... without even trying. Almost 20 years later, he is still those things... older and wiser, too.
David brought so much to my life, to my very sheltered, charmed, loving life complete with Mom, Dad, sisters and all the security one kid could ask for. He brought adventure, controversy (tattoos, motorcycles, fireworks, guns, etc.), challenge and insight to my world. He has somehow managed to love me completely while also accepting me for who I am (faults, too!) and encouraging me to be my best self. David insists I must love myself, while never really acknowledging the many ways I come up short. He pushes me with words he has lived out... overcome, persevere, push through, never give up. These are his ways, and have slowly become mine, too. David introduced me to mountain hikes, trail riding, street racing, camping, shooting ranges, among many other things. I introduced him to a life of music and the written word, reading for pleasure, communicating with openness, family traditions, among many other things.
There is a scale somewhere in our collective subconscious that has been strained and stretched, working overtime at points along our timeline to keep us balanced. We have pushed and pushed... sometimes out of necessity, other times out of good old-fashioned stubbornness and pride. But always we come back to a balance that not only works for us, but completes us.
Five years after meeting, we married and even more years later, had children. I can't explain how perfectly these two little boys balance us and all that we are and still dare to dream about becoming. They, too, are challenging, inquisitive, heavy on personality and headstrong... obviously offspring of two people who at times can barely occupy the same space and time in the universe without killing each other. And I say this in the most endearing way possible.
The truth is, David and I choose each other. Each and every day, for better or worse, for crappy or celebratory, in youth and age, with promises both broken and unrealized, we CHOOSE each other. We like each other. Terms like "best friends," "soul mates" and "the one" come to mind. These would not be inaccurate overstatements.
Even now, we face a plethora of challenges that push us beyond what we know and where we're comfortable. The beauty of all the trials and tribulations in life is summed up in these few words for me: I get to be with David!
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
kite flying
There is a whisper on my life's wind, letting me know that if I will align myself and wait for that breeze to take me, I will surely find myself freely flying above the world below, soaring on the air I take for granted most moments.
When we took our boys to fly kites today, there were a couple of less than peaceful moments... tangled tails, crossed lines, detached string, sporadic wind. But once the boys managed to bet on the right breeze, there was no looking back. Their Spiderman and gecko kites were magic... risen phoenixes taken to heights we didn't dare imagine. Maybe because these were old kites that had been sitting in the back of their playroom closet for years; maybe because they were party favors from some long-ago birthday party; maybe because they were inexpensive trinkets we didn't want to set our hopes upon. It's funny how easily we judge things based on where they come from... clothing, kites, people.
Yet, despite their humble beginnings, these kites were the apple of my eye for several glorious moments on this fine February afternoon... more beautiful than the magnificent blue sky behind them, more awe-inspiring than the midday moon. For even into the night, I can hear my boys' squeals of delight and triumph, and I can remember that flights are made of these -- unexpected, gorgeous moments with just the right amount of wind and just the right temperature. And even then, one must work to make the flights actually happen.
In the end, each of my sons had to pull his kite in, spooling its string gently back into place while keeping a watchful eye on the ever-descending kite and tail. Spiderman and the gecko made their way back to earth, but it was Mommy and Daddy who would later recall their notable excursions into the wild, blue yonder.
Should I ever find the words to express to my sons what their kite flying did for me this day, I hope to share with them. Because right now, I can't quite put my finger on what it is that seems so close I can almost touch it, yet far enough away that I almost fear missing that perfect breeze... that is, until the next one comes along.
When we took our boys to fly kites today, there were a couple of less than peaceful moments... tangled tails, crossed lines, detached string, sporadic wind. But once the boys managed to bet on the right breeze, there was no looking back. Their Spiderman and gecko kites were magic... risen phoenixes taken to heights we didn't dare imagine. Maybe because these were old kites that had been sitting in the back of their playroom closet for years; maybe because they were party favors from some long-ago birthday party; maybe because they were inexpensive trinkets we didn't want to set our hopes upon. It's funny how easily we judge things based on where they come from... clothing, kites, people.
Yet, despite their humble beginnings, these kites were the apple of my eye for several glorious moments on this fine February afternoon... more beautiful than the magnificent blue sky behind them, more awe-inspiring than the midday moon. For even into the night, I can hear my boys' squeals of delight and triumph, and I can remember that flights are made of these -- unexpected, gorgeous moments with just the right amount of wind and just the right temperature. And even then, one must work to make the flights actually happen.
In the end, each of my sons had to pull his kite in, spooling its string gently back into place while keeping a watchful eye on the ever-descending kite and tail. Spiderman and the gecko made their way back to earth, but it was Mommy and Daddy who would later recall their notable excursions into the wild, blue yonder.
Should I ever find the words to express to my sons what their kite flying did for me this day, I hope to share with them. Because right now, I can't quite put my finger on what it is that seems so close I can almost touch it, yet far enough away that I almost fear missing that perfect breeze... that is, until the next one comes along.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
boys must be boys
I keep wondering what's to become of this generation of boys growing up with parents like me. And I'm not even one of the most protective parents I know.
You always hear stories, in books and in movies and from all the guys you know, that involve things like swimming or playing in a nearby body of water, riding bikes for HOURS at a time, hanging out in a clubhouse or treehouse, etc. You know, the stuff of postage stamp designs!
Well, I don't try to overly baby my 8- and 6-year old boys, but I can tell you that neither them or any of their friends that I know of (and I talk to lots of mommas of boys) ride bikes all over the place or get into any number of messes while playing outside for hours having boy adventures. And I'm just wondering what this lack of opportunity for childhood shenanigans will do for my sons and their friends.
Will they one day hit an age where they (and I) are ready to spend lots of time outdoors on their bikes, finding and making their own trails? Will they ever have the chance to hang out at one of the area creeks without the nosey presence of mom and dad? How can they learn the hard and fast lessons that come from a scraped knee or a flat tire or a lost dollar when we're always a holler away and they're money is never far from the safety of home. Why do they need to keep their money handy anyway? There aren't any cool corner stores or soda shops for them to walk to and waste away their afternoons. Wally and Beaver left the scene long ago!
And even when we don't try to keep them ultra busy, they end up with full days. Music lessons, after-school practices, baseball. The things that make a childhood, right?
I plan to keep my eye out for opportunities so my sons can experience some of this freedom I hear men my age talk about. I'm worried that they might not know what to do or how to handle it when life gets messy because they will never have had the forced chance to walk home with blood dripping down their arm from a banged up elbow. I don't mind them arriving at adulthood with a few bumps and bruises if it means important lessons also were learned. But between all the family time we want to spend with them and the constant reminders of how unsafe our world is, I'm just not sure they'll have that chance any time soon.
You always hear stories, in books and in movies and from all the guys you know, that involve things like swimming or playing in a nearby body of water, riding bikes for HOURS at a time, hanging out in a clubhouse or treehouse, etc. You know, the stuff of postage stamp designs!
Well, I don't try to overly baby my 8- and 6-year old boys, but I can tell you that neither them or any of their friends that I know of (and I talk to lots of mommas of boys) ride bikes all over the place or get into any number of messes while playing outside for hours having boy adventures. And I'm just wondering what this lack of opportunity for childhood shenanigans will do for my sons and their friends.
Will they one day hit an age where they (and I) are ready to spend lots of time outdoors on their bikes, finding and making their own trails? Will they ever have the chance to hang out at one of the area creeks without the nosey presence of mom and dad? How can they learn the hard and fast lessons that come from a scraped knee or a flat tire or a lost dollar when we're always a holler away and they're money is never far from the safety of home. Why do they need to keep their money handy anyway? There aren't any cool corner stores or soda shops for them to walk to and waste away their afternoons. Wally and Beaver left the scene long ago!
And even when we don't try to keep them ultra busy, they end up with full days. Music lessons, after-school practices, baseball. The things that make a childhood, right?
I plan to keep my eye out for opportunities so my sons can experience some of this freedom I hear men my age talk about. I'm worried that they might not know what to do or how to handle it when life gets messy because they will never have had the forced chance to walk home with blood dripping down their arm from a banged up elbow. I don't mind them arriving at adulthood with a few bumps and bruises if it means important lessons also were learned. But between all the family time we want to spend with them and the constant reminders of how unsafe our world is, I'm just not sure they'll have that chance any time soon.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
if you can't laugh at yourself...
(*A couple of years ago, I wrote the following, with some input from my husband and our friend, John Pena. In Waco, Hispanics are primarily called "Mexicans," whether or not you or anyone in your immediate family is actually from Mexico. I wrote this after moving to Lakeway, although folks in some Waco suburbs could attest to these. Some are real, some are probably real, ALL of them are absolutely likely! And I still think it's a pretty funny list.)
You know you're a Mexican living in the suburbs if you can relate to any or all of these:
*You constantly take up parking on the street because all your extended relatives are sleeping over again. And you own extra cots or blow-up mattresses to accommodate.
*You're usually the only one out on the roads late because you're making a beer or Taco Bell run at 11:45 on a Tuesday night.
*You've been reported for late night music and suspicious smells coming from your backyard.
*You're on a first name basis with the yard guys.
*Everyone on the block asks you to interpret for their maids.
*At least one other relative is using your address so their kids can go to the "good" schools in town.
*You're name is Juan, Jose, Guadalupe or Maria, but people in your community call you John, Joe, Lupe or Mary.
*You bought an SUV to fit in but you just couldn't resist at least one of the following: dropping your vehicle, adding custom rims, having your last name written across the back window or placing a Virgin Mary on your dashboard.
*Your house is the only one with great food smells coming from it every night because every night you're eating beans, rice and tortillas. And you occasionally have friends over to "show off" your "authentic ethnic food" and great cooking skills .
*You've been mistaken for the custodian more than once at your child's school; you've been called "the Nanny," especially if your kids are half-gringo and they favor their Dad.
*The neighbors have asked about your kid's tuba lessons, but it's just the Mexican music coming from your living room.
*Your neighbors have tulips growing in the backyard and a yellow lab for a pet. You have two chickens running around and cactus growing to make recipes passed down from your great-grandma.
*You travel across the border for medical supplies and various medical procedures because it's so cheap, even though your insurance copay is $15.
*You skip the pilates, yoga and spin classes at the gym and instead workout in t-shirts and "wife-beaters" on the free weights to pump up your "guns" and abs.
*Your idea of recycling is using HEB bags as trash liners, refilling water bottles with tap water, and letting your pit bull play with old milk cartons.
*You walk into the local convenience store and they have no idea what you're talking about when you ask for Jarritos soda.
*The next-door neighbor walks over to ask what channel TELEMUNDO is because they want to work on their Spanish by watching the soaps ("novelas").
You know you're a Mexican living in the suburbs if you can relate to any or all of these:
*You constantly take up parking on the street because all your extended relatives are sleeping over again. And you own extra cots or blow-up mattresses to accommodate.
*You're usually the only one out on the roads late because you're making a beer or Taco Bell run at 11:45 on a Tuesday night.
*You've been reported for late night music and suspicious smells coming from your backyard.
*You're on a first name basis with the yard guys.
*Everyone on the block asks you to interpret for their maids.
*At least one other relative is using your address so their kids can go to the "good" schools in town.
*You're name is Juan, Jose, Guadalupe or Maria, but people in your community call you John, Joe, Lupe or Mary.
*You bought an SUV to fit in but you just couldn't resist at least one of the following: dropping your vehicle, adding custom rims, having your last name written across the back window or placing a Virgin Mary on your dashboard.
*Your house is the only one with great food smells coming from it every night because every night you're eating beans, rice and tortillas. And you occasionally have friends over to "show off" your "authentic ethnic food" and great cooking skills .
*You've been mistaken for the custodian more than once at your child's school; you've been called "the Nanny," especially if your kids are half-gringo and they favor their Dad.
*The neighbors have asked about your kid's tuba lessons, but it's just the Mexican music coming from your living room.
*Your neighbors have tulips growing in the backyard and a yellow lab for a pet. You have two chickens running around and cactus growing to make recipes passed down from your great-grandma.
*You travel across the border for medical supplies and various medical procedures because it's so cheap, even though your insurance copay is $15.
*You skip the pilates, yoga and spin classes at the gym and instead workout in t-shirts and "wife-beaters" on the free weights to pump up your "guns" and abs.
*Your idea of recycling is using HEB bags as trash liners, refilling water bottles with tap water, and letting your pit bull play with old milk cartons.
*You walk into the local convenience store and they have no idea what you're talking about when you ask for Jarritos soda.
*The next-door neighbor walks over to ask what channel TELEMUNDO is because they want to work on their Spanish by watching the soaps ("novelas").
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
family meeting OR should we get a puppy?
For 2011, we're trying something a little different. At the beginning of each month, we're getting together as a family to set forth some short-term goals for the upcoming month, as well as touch base on our New Year's resolutions and reflect back on the previous month's goals. This gives us a chance to evaluate our progress (and get input from others if we want), refocus on our aim, tweak our goals and look forward to new ways to improve ourselves. We have a family journal and we do this AS a family, but working the goals is an independent thing. To each his own, with ample support and encouragement from the rest of us, of course. (*Mid-month, we have a family date night where we talk about the month so far in a relaxed setting... usually over dinner out!)
Tonight we had our second meeting of the year. It was very productive and I am always impressed by the things my children want to do with their lives:
My 8-year-old, David, wants to work on a new invention; Dylan, my 6-year-old, wants to play outside everyday when it isn't too cold. These are just a few of their goals. David also has a goal for growing in height, while Dylan established he wants to make perfect scores on his spelling tests for the rest of the year. WOW!
Dad plans to create and implement four new trading programs at work, while Mom (that's me!) intends to make a final decision about adding a puppy to our brood. I know it will be work, and that most of the work will fall squarely on my shoulders. But something in me believes my boys should experience having a dog. I also believe that if my parents and David's parents could do it, so can we! There is so much to give and gain from being a pet owner; I don't want to rob my children of these opportunities and lessons.
Speaking of my decision, I spent one night last week researching names. You'd think I was having a baby! But I've always been interested in name meanings. While researching, I was reminded and struck by the fact that an aspect of each of our names (either our first or middle) has to do with the ocean and with a quality that comes straight from God: love, mercy, light, grace. To this end, our puppy (IF WE GET ONE!) would need to follow suit.
If we get one, I'll be sure to share our news and write about his or her name. Meanwhile, I'll continue working on my other goals: health and well-being, as well as a commitment to my writing and reading.
When you find yourself evaluating your life among the people you love most in this world, especially those little ones, you want to face them with a good report to share. With every month that comes, I want to have made progress and be a good example to my family.
Tonight we had our second meeting of the year. It was very productive and I am always impressed by the things my children want to do with their lives:
My 8-year-old, David, wants to work on a new invention; Dylan, my 6-year-old, wants to play outside everyday when it isn't too cold. These are just a few of their goals. David also has a goal for growing in height, while Dylan established he wants to make perfect scores on his spelling tests for the rest of the year. WOW!
Dad plans to create and implement four new trading programs at work, while Mom (that's me!) intends to make a final decision about adding a puppy to our brood. I know it will be work, and that most of the work will fall squarely on my shoulders. But something in me believes my boys should experience having a dog. I also believe that if my parents and David's parents could do it, so can we! There is so much to give and gain from being a pet owner; I don't want to rob my children of these opportunities and lessons.
Speaking of my decision, I spent one night last week researching names. You'd think I was having a baby! But I've always been interested in name meanings. While researching, I was reminded and struck by the fact that an aspect of each of our names (either our first or middle) has to do with the ocean and with a quality that comes straight from God: love, mercy, light, grace. To this end, our puppy (IF WE GET ONE!) would need to follow suit.
If we get one, I'll be sure to share our news and write about his or her name. Meanwhile, I'll continue working on my other goals: health and well-being, as well as a commitment to my writing and reading.
When you find yourself evaluating your life among the people you love most in this world, especially those little ones, you want to face them with a good report to share. With every month that comes, I want to have made progress and be a good example to my family.
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