Hard to believe we've completed an entire decade since I welcomed the year 2000 in my friend April's living room, wearing my very first (and not the last) pair of 200X themed glasses.
We're about to enter the teens, yet I don't feel any different than I did at the beginning of the decade, when I was exiting my own teens.
When we entered 2009, we were so glad to be rid of 2008. 2008 cut us deeply, and then poured lemon juice in the wounds. We had no idea how we expected to heal or where 2009 would lead, but it just had to be better than 2008, it just had to.
And it was.
Don't get me wrong, this year definitely had its share of downs, plenty of tears and loss and heartache. But 2009 also saw us pick ourselves off, dust off, and keep on swimming.
I like the idea of a new year. A new chance, a blank slate, a starting over point. No matter that the new year falls smack dab in the middle of winter, at no particular changing point in the actual year, just an arbitrary number change, but nonetheless, the idea appeals to me.
Every year, I make resolutions. Every year, I break resolutions. I try to think of the me I'd like to be, and make conscious efforts and choices to achieve that me. It rarely works. But every once in a while, I make a change that sticks around, and that small success of many failures keeps me making new year resolutions.
Plus, it is tradition, and lord knows I'm a sucker for tradition.
So, I'll continue to make new years' resolutions, and do my darndest to stick to them.
We'll eat our 12 grapes, pop our bottle of champagne, and welcome in not only the new year, but the new decade. We'll remember the blessings of 2009, and say goodbye to the parts we'd like to forget.
Here's hoping for a glorious start of the new decade, and a happy 2010 for all.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Merry Christmas
I'm feeling grumpy, and I just don't know why.
We had a relatively fabulous Christmas, despite a quick trip to the ER (asthma attack for Julio, which responded to treatment and was really speedy, as ER trips go), two inches or rain that turned all our snow into slush, which has since frozen so we now live on a skating rink, and a disaster with the oyster stew, which curdled.
We had joy and presents, and wonder in the face of the small one. She stayed awake, alert and excited until midnight on Christmas Eve, opening presents from family. Sofia did beautifully at the Christmas Eve service at church, which could have been a disaster. I sing in the choir, so she and I were front and center. Keeping a two-year-old occupied for an entire church service at the front of the church is, let's just say, interesting. She did well, though, and tried to climb the banister, stared with intrigue at the real baby in the manger scene (until turning around and saying to me, "Baby Jesus scare me.") She banged on her 'Little Drummer Boy' coffee can drum, and sat in her princess dress facing the crowd. Afterwards. she ran around the sanctuary, and got her head stuck in the bars of the stair case to the pulpit. "Mama, I stuck!"
Sofia, for one, actually enjoyed the oyster stew, despite its strangeness.
Julio had to work, but got home right after 10, and we had a great time as a family. Sofia loved her presents from us, and has been carrying around her little doll (which she named Baby Tigger) since then.
Sarah got a Wii, and though it was very late, she and Julio and I stayed up playing for awhile.
Then I (ahem, Santa) filled stockings, put out candy, and put the presents under the upstairs tree, even though someone forgot to leave cookies.
We slept in, all of us, including Sofia. She woke up smiling, and excited about the presents under the tree.
Mom and Dad left for DC to see their new grandbaby (I am so jealous; want to hold baby Anika!), and because of the weather and Julio's respiratory distress, we all stayed home and played Wii, read books, and played with all the new toys Santa brought. Besides having to trudge through the slush to do chores, it was a great day.
I'm not sure why I'm so grumpy. Perhaps because tomorrow is Monday, and I abhor Monday, more so now than ever, as it is usually a 16-20 hour work day. Besides that, I'm not at all ready for Monday, which makes it worse. I have to spend today trying to call people to do interviews (the weekend after Christmas. Yes, I'm sure they will be thrilled to hear from me.)
Maybe it is because Christmas is over, and I didn't get to watch all the movies, listen to all the music, do all the traditions that I wanted to.
I'm not sure what it is, but I've got to get past it.
We had a relatively fabulous Christmas, despite a quick trip to the ER (asthma attack for Julio, which responded to treatment and was really speedy, as ER trips go), two inches or rain that turned all our snow into slush, which has since frozen so we now live on a skating rink, and a disaster with the oyster stew, which curdled.
We had joy and presents, and wonder in the face of the small one. She stayed awake, alert and excited until midnight on Christmas Eve, opening presents from family. Sofia did beautifully at the Christmas Eve service at church, which could have been a disaster. I sing in the choir, so she and I were front and center. Keeping a two-year-old occupied for an entire church service at the front of the church is, let's just say, interesting. She did well, though, and tried to climb the banister, stared with intrigue at the real baby in the manger scene (until turning around and saying to me, "Baby Jesus scare me.") She banged on her 'Little Drummer Boy' coffee can drum, and sat in her princess dress facing the crowd. Afterwards. she ran around the sanctuary, and got her head stuck in the bars of the stair case to the pulpit. "Mama, I stuck!"
Sofia, for one, actually enjoyed the oyster stew, despite its strangeness.
Julio had to work, but got home right after 10, and we had a great time as a family. Sofia loved her presents from us, and has been carrying around her little doll (which she named Baby Tigger) since then.
Sarah got a Wii, and though it was very late, she and Julio and I stayed up playing for awhile.
Then I (ahem, Santa) filled stockings, put out candy, and put the presents under the upstairs tree, even though someone forgot to leave cookies.
We slept in, all of us, including Sofia. She woke up smiling, and excited about the presents under the tree.
Mom and Dad left for DC to see their new grandbaby (I am so jealous; want to hold baby Anika!), and because of the weather and Julio's respiratory distress, we all stayed home and played Wii, read books, and played with all the new toys Santa brought. Besides having to trudge through the slush to do chores, it was a great day.
I'm not sure why I'm so grumpy. Perhaps because tomorrow is Monday, and I abhor Monday, more so now than ever, as it is usually a 16-20 hour work day. Besides that, I'm not at all ready for Monday, which makes it worse. I have to spend today trying to call people to do interviews (the weekend after Christmas. Yes, I'm sure they will be thrilled to hear from me.)
Maybe it is because Christmas is over, and I didn't get to watch all the movies, listen to all the music, do all the traditions that I wanted to.
I'm not sure what it is, but I've got to get past it.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Fly, Fly, Little Wing
I tried to write about Suey on Friday, when I could barely do anything but cry. I couldn't do it. Yet, how can one ever really write about Suey? How can any words encapsulate her spirit? Even though it isn't enough, isn't nearly enough, words are what we have now. Suey left her body last Friday, December 11 at 2:30 in the afternoon.
Oh, how I love her. She had the most incredible laugh, a deep one from the belly, that often ended in a snort. The best kind of snort. And the best part about her laugh, is how often you heard it. She was always laughing.
She had a zest about her in every thing she did. Even sitting around the house doing nothing would have a Suey twist. She's make us sit outside in on a warm day, and put our chairs inside the kiddie pool to cool off (with a beer in a coozie, of course). If her husband fell asleep in the living room, she'd paint his toenails sparkly blue, then wait for him to notice.
Suey was welcoming. To everyone. Just as at home at the bowling alley or on a cruise ship, Suey made friends wherever she went. She had that special way of making every single person feel loved and included and part of the group. She took me into her home so many times, and always made me feel that she was the lucky one to have me there.
She made a personalized baby blanket for every baby, and they were all beautiful and unique. She helped me create baby blankets for my friends' babies, and I'll try to continue the tradition on my own, though they won't be the same without her special flair.
Suey was real. She was always herself, and fully present in each moment. She loved herself, and she loved everyone around her.
She leaves behind so many broken hearts, trying to navigate this world with her life force no longer a part of it.
Most of all, she leaves behind two daughters, my cousins, teenagers. They need their mommy. It breaks my heart, all the life Suey is missing, and all the moments Taylor-Ann and McKenna will never get to share with her.
Rest in Peace, Suey. You are loved, and will be remembered always.
Oh, how I love her. She had the most incredible laugh, a deep one from the belly, that often ended in a snort. The best kind of snort. And the best part about her laugh, is how often you heard it. She was always laughing.
She had a zest about her in every thing she did. Even sitting around the house doing nothing would have a Suey twist. She's make us sit outside in on a warm day, and put our chairs inside the kiddie pool to cool off (with a beer in a coozie, of course). If her husband fell asleep in the living room, she'd paint his toenails sparkly blue, then wait for him to notice.
Suey was welcoming. To everyone. Just as at home at the bowling alley or on a cruise ship, Suey made friends wherever she went. She had that special way of making every single person feel loved and included and part of the group. She took me into her home so many times, and always made me feel that she was the lucky one to have me there.
She made a personalized baby blanket for every baby, and they were all beautiful and unique. She helped me create baby blankets for my friends' babies, and I'll try to continue the tradition on my own, though they won't be the same without her special flair.
Suey was real. She was always herself, and fully present in each moment. She loved herself, and she loved everyone around her.
She leaves behind so many broken hearts, trying to navigate this world with her life force no longer a part of it.
Most of all, she leaves behind two daughters, my cousins, teenagers. They need their mommy. It breaks my heart, all the life Suey is missing, and all the moments Taylor-Ann and McKenna will never get to share with her.
Rest in Peace, Suey. You are loved, and will be remembered always.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Revitalize
I'm still here. Going to try to revive this thing, lest it sit in Internet purgatory, freeze-framing our lives at the point of transition.
So, apparently, I forgot I had a blog. Look! Here it is! All neglected and dusty, depicting the life of a baby who is nearly ONE YEAR OLDER than she was then. Like, she doubled.
Sofia is two now. She's a riot.
She's my big girl. She started singing the alphabet right around her second birthday, and if there is anything cuter than the way she says w, x, y and z, I don't want to hear it, because my poor heart might really just puddle up on the floor.
She recognizes her letters. One day, we were in the basement on the computer with grandma and grandpa and aunt Sarah (yes, going to the computer room is a family event. isn't it at your house?), and she sat at the other computer, pointing to the letters on the keyboard, naming each one. Except that she said W for M, but really, who can blame her? What if the key was on backwards? That's totally a W, Mom.
She counts to 15 in English, and to 10 in Spanish. Not just the numbers, either. She actually counts objects. How many (fill in the blank), Sofia? 1, 2, 3, 4. There's Four, Mommy!
For a long time, she would count the objects, and then add one. She'd count to four, and then say, There's Five! She caught on now.
She can jump. She's been working on that one for awhile, now, and would be so cute, gearing her little legs up and spring off the floor, then not actually leave the floor. WIth practice, however, both feet are now air born at the same time.
She loves to run. Run everywhere. If she's not running, she's obstinately not moving. She loves to kick, too. I took her to a high school soccer game this fall, and she really thought she was going to get to play, not just watch.
She loves music. She can sing along, the words and everything, to that fabulous hit, by Big Bird, ACDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ. And Elmo's Song. She sings that, too.
She loves her friends. Cady and Cassie, and Jay and Ella, hold very dear spaces in her heart. She's still learning sharing, and taking turns, and "nice touches" and all that, but what do we expect? She's TWO.
The child in my house is not the same one who was there the last time I wrote. She's one year older, one year wiser, and one year naughtier. She's simply fantastic.
Life is better. Slowly but surely, we're pulling ourselves out of the holes we had been stuck in.
So, apparently, I forgot I had a blog. Look! Here it is! All neglected and dusty, depicting the life of a baby who is nearly ONE YEAR OLDER than she was then. Like, she doubled.
Sofia is two now. She's a riot.
She's my big girl. She started singing the alphabet right around her second birthday, and if there is anything cuter than the way she says w, x, y and z, I don't want to hear it, because my poor heart might really just puddle up on the floor.
She recognizes her letters. One day, we were in the basement on the computer with grandma and grandpa and aunt Sarah (yes, going to the computer room is a family event. isn't it at your house?), and she sat at the other computer, pointing to the letters on the keyboard, naming each one. Except that she said W for M, but really, who can blame her? What if the key was on backwards? That's totally a W, Mom.
She counts to 15 in English, and to 10 in Spanish. Not just the numbers, either. She actually counts objects. How many (fill in the blank), Sofia? 1, 2, 3, 4. There's Four, Mommy!
For a long time, she would count the objects, and then add one. She'd count to four, and then say, There's Five! She caught on now.
She can jump. She's been working on that one for awhile, now, and would be so cute, gearing her little legs up and spring off the floor, then not actually leave the floor. WIth practice, however, both feet are now air born at the same time.
She loves to run. Run everywhere. If she's not running, she's obstinately not moving. She loves to kick, too. I took her to a high school soccer game this fall, and she really thought she was going to get to play, not just watch.
She loves music. She can sing along, the words and everything, to that fabulous hit, by Big Bird, ACDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ. And Elmo's Song. She sings that, too.
She loves her friends. Cady and Cassie, and Jay and Ella, hold very dear spaces in her heart. She's still learning sharing, and taking turns, and "nice touches" and all that, but what do we expect? She's TWO.
The child in my house is not the same one who was there the last time I wrote. She's one year older, one year wiser, and one year naughtier. She's simply fantastic.
Life is better. Slowly but surely, we're pulling ourselves out of the holes we had been stuck in.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
A New Day
Sometimes things look better in the morning. Nothing has resolved, all the problems are still there, but I have something better.
It's better than I could ever have imagined. Her kisses and smiles, her laughs and giggles, each new word, each new discovery, each moment is perfect.
We had our Dia de Los Reyes celebration, and celebrate we did. We had pan de jamon, key lime pie, and lots of laughs. Sofia helped take down the tree, and carefully placed each ornament back in the boxes, and we talked about the story each one holds. The Kings brought her a tricycle, which she pushes around, climbing into the seat, saying "Peeeeeeese". We drive around the livingroom, laughing and zooming. Sofia's baby gets a turn.
Julio and I sat on the couch, watching Sofia play. She played with her farm, dancing the the tractor's song (don't ask). She carefully holds her baby, rocking her and kissing her, then placing her in the cradle, covering her up, rocking her, saying "Nigh Night".
This girl, this family.
It's better than I could ever have imagined. Her kisses and smiles, her laughs and giggles, each new word, each new discovery, each moment is perfect. We're still moving in with my parents. Our house is still in danger of foreclosure (keep hoping for that short sale), we are still unemployed. We're formulating a plan, that I'm hoping with all my might comes to fruition and makes us better off in the long run.
No matter what happens, though, as long as we have each other, we'll be okay.
Monday, January 5, 2009
the hell?
Damn. The possibilities we thought we had have pretty much closed. And here I was, thinking 2009 might be kinder to us and something might actually work out.
I don't know what else to do or how to keep on keeping on. It all seems so futile. We're contemplating a move in with my parents. It does not feel good to be nearly 28 years old and still floundering, still living with the parents, still needing help. My own two feet haven't been very sturdy to stand on, it seems. How much longer before they tire of my bullshit?
I need to remind myself, it has only been a few months. We have been pretty tight with money since we married five years ago, but we only actually required help one other time. I haven't failed my life. I've hit a rough spot that requires the help of those who love me.
Tomorrow is January sixth, the Parra tradition. We began it only last year, but I'm looking forward to it. We make traditional food, take down our tree, give Sofia a small present (this year is a garage sale find from the summer; a tricycle!) from Los Reyes and remind ourselves how blessed we are to have each other. So, I'm baking and trying to pretend that my life isn't falling apart.
I've got to ditch the last shreds of my pride that remain with me and move back to the town I grew up in, the place I thought I left forever at 18.
Wish me luck.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
and...one more time
It's a new year and a new chance. Right? I get a second chance at this blogging thing? You know, with actual posting of actual ideas and thoughts and shit? If I have any of those, that is.
So. Not much has happened since my last post, and I haven't been able to think beyond tomorrow and how we're going to eat and survive. I spend each minute trying not to fall apart and wrestling with that knot in my stomach which so far, I haven't untied.
It might be looser. I may be closer.
We are losing the house. We can't find jobs here, we can't make mortgage, and we owe more than the house is currently worth. We are signing with a realtor and hoping for a short sale which should leave us clean and avoid foreclosure. And if we have to foreclose, we foreclose. Being a grown-up sucks donkey balls. (Grown-ups are allowed to use that phrase still, right? Please tell me grown-ups are still allowed to use that phrase, because if not, I give up right now. Yes? Good. Continue on.)
We're planning on a move. Two possibilities, one more likely than the other. It is scary, thinking of starting over again, this time with a child. I want things to be perfect, right here, right now. But they aren't. There are problems beyond just the job thing. It isn't like a move will leave all the troubles here behind us, but there are advantages to the new location that might help.
There is the possibility of school. I'm hoping to go to nursing school sometime in the next two years. I've been waiting for my vocation since I graduated undergrad, and just haven't felt it. Nothing seemed right, nothing called to me, so I remained stuck in my mundane, go-nowhere job letting life slip me by. I think I've finally found it, though. I've heard the voice telling me that this is my path.
So. I guess this post doesn't qualify as thoughts and ideas so much as catch up. I'll get there, I promise. Right now, I just need to keep on swimming, keep on swimming. Even if that swimming doesn't seem like much, it just might take me where I need to go.
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