officially loose

La Princesita has her first official loose tooth.

This news has been met with great enthusiasm throughout the house, with little brother The Young Prince checking every few minutes to make sure he can still see it move. It moves--barely--but enough to be called "loose" and to require incessant monitoring.

Mama Llama, on the other hand, is feeling nostalgic. The days of the beautiful baby-tooth smiles are going to soon pass, to be followed by the awkward jack o'lantern grins that plague each and every child in turn. It is natural. It is Life. But it is yet another sign that my baby girl is growing up.

a mother of a spider

Usually, I refer to spiders in the masculine, not the feminine. Interesting. I'm sure either Freud or Lacan can find some reason for this association.

However, this morning's kitchen visitor was a MOTHER of a spider. Normally I find these huge creepy-crawlies inhabiting my basement, and I hurriedly try to trap them and get them outside before some sort of midnight-crawling-across-my-face encounter.

(That has actually occurred, in Japan, when I awoke to find a huge dead spider carcass smashed on the pillow next to my ear. But living in Japan was much like indoor camping, with only a layer of plywood and a tatami mat separating me from all the insect and reptile wonders that often found their way through the crevices into my small rural home. Definitely not Suburbia.)

Anyway, I screamed so loud that I'm sure She-Ra heard me from across town (?!) and my children actually allowed themselves to be torn away from Saturday morning Batman cartoons (following Scooby Doo, naturally) to find out what in the world had made their mother holler so. They were taken by the sheer size of the arachnid and, when I finally got my wits about me and could search for a container into which I could trap the creature and release it into the Great Outdoors, their eyes widened with anticipation: Would the spider jump? Would it run faster? Would it bite? If it bit Mommy, would we have to call the 'ambulance man'? I could see the questions jump into their minds.

The spider did, in fact, jump--as soon as I put Kana's plastic school snack carrier over it, then I slammed the lid on and, certain that I could get this ugly thing outside without it making its way out somehow and biting my hand, we all rushed out to the porch and I released the spider in a six-foot free fall into a bed of hostas--an environment much less hostile, I'm sure, to the eight-legged population.

Then Kana declared:

-I sure hope you're going to clean that container, Mom.

And they promptly returned downstairs to the comfort and safety of their predictable Saturday morning animated dramas.

A Ring of Endless Light

This was the title of one of my favorite books by Madeline L'Engle, who reportedly died yesterday. She was a poignant author whose books I adored and I read each and every one, perhaps several times each, when I was between the ages of 11 and 15. I wrote essays in school about her books and how they helped me through that horrible 8th grade year during which both my grandmothers died. I think so often about A Wrinkle in Time and how convenient the appearance of a form of tesseract would be in my life now, to bridge me and my here and now to other lands and loves.

Que en paz descanse. Que sepa cuántas vidas usted ha tocado y ha influido con su escritura.

hot latin...something!

"You have a nice body," she purrs as I relax following a set of bicep curls at the small gym this morning. Her Spanish-flavored accent is punctuated by a flip of her telenovela-type hair that any woman would die for. "Do you work out every day?"

"No," I say, "I have two children, I'm really lucky to just get here twice or perhaps three times a week." I feel awkward, sweaty, disgustingly gross in front of such a petite latin beauty queen was most likely simply blessed with skinny genes and marvelous hair.

It's so funny. The last time my body was commented upon in such a manner was by a lesbian gym teacher in the 7th grade. That is an incredibly formative time in any young girl's life as one deals with so many hormonal and body changes, and what could possibly be a most innocent comment can end in creating self esteem and self-image issues. That comment, for some reason, made at that time did not do me much good (perhaps having to do with the ribbing to which I fell victim from the rest of my friends following gym class that day), and memories of that encounter of almost 25 years ago flooded my mind for the remainder of this morning.

I don't feel like I look bad, and I am not fishing for compliments because I do not need them. However, the question remains: Why is it never a hot Latin hunk with great hair, a beautiful body and a musky scent who wants to whisk me away forever and... well, you know the rest of the story.

No, that would be too good to be true, even in the best of the telenovelas that Univisión can offer...and I'm probably too old and would be too scared, anyway! Now, maybe in my past life...!

English is a tough language.

I have been working.
I've been working.
I haven't been working. vs. I have not been working.
Have you been working?
You have been working/You've been working, haven't you?
Have you not been working? Haven't you been working?

Well...have you ever stopped to think about how a non-native speaker would tackle this grammar point of the present perfect continuous? Not only the formation thereof, but the adoption of the correct intonation, the adecuate enunciation of the contractions (especially the negative contractions), the natural rises and falls occurring between words and at the ends of sentences which lend nuance and meaning, the differences implied when using a contraction versus when not using a contraction...what is stressed, the subject or the action.

We take so much for granted, as do any native speakers of any language. Hats off to those who are making an honest effort to learn my mother tongue.

English is not easy. It sure isn't easy to teach it, either!

New beginnings

My baby girl started kindergarten today.

My baby boy will start preschool tomorrow.

I start with a new student tomorrow and continue on with slightly less-new students.

I feel refreshed, ready, and yet...>>sniff sniff<<...my baby birdies are slowly leaving the nest I have created for them.

La Princesita glowed as she told me about her school day. The Young Prince wanted to have his picture taken with his new backpack, too. Even had it all packed up, even though he didn't start school today. That means we are extra-ready for tomorrow.

I am validated in my feelings to know that I am not the only mother amongst my friends to shed tears today.

I am so proud of my babies.

I needed a change of scenery and a new name. How easy it is online to simply alter identity, assume alter-egos. I hope you enjoy!

September in God's time

Today was the first of September. It felt like a September day. The sky was a brilliant blue, that which we only see as an autumn sky.

I spent the day in the garden--more God time. I am finding God in so many more places that God made and less so in places man-made in God's name. I'm not sure why that is, but as I have always been drawn to nature, perhaps that is where God is calling me to find him now.

This is a difficult issue for me as I have been raised Catholic and in a firm, church-going household. I believe in God. I love my God. I want my children to grow up with a respect and a love for God as well, and believe they should be educated so as to be able to make their decisions as to how they must individually pay respect to God in their lives. I try to teach them in my home the importance of God in our lives, and how we can be God-like in how we treat ourselves and how we treat others. I try to teach as well a respect for all life, even the lives of the bothersome crickets currently invading our home.

I used to believe that my rather antisystemic point of view stemmed from a fundamental insecurity in my beliefs; that indeed, God would strike me down if I didn't attend Mass each week. I have come to see that, contrary to the point of view of many, instead I am extremely secure in my faith and am willing to stretch my relationship with God and question instead of being a mere blind follower...

So I, in the past 10 months, have made some realizations and some decisions based on these realizations. One great realization is that I have always done what others believe I should do for their approbation. That is not necessarily what is correct for me to do, but I do. I want people to be proud of me and to see me as doing what they define to be as right, even if it does not feel right in my heart. Some of this has to do with my manner of practicing my faith. There are other subjects that fall under this idea as well. However, God is the theme for today.

And I enjoyed the first day of September fully today--and in God's time!