domingo, 13 de mayo de 2012

Happy Mother's Day to me!!!

May  13, 2012
10:10 am

Mother's Day 2011 was a hit. Do not get me wrong, I never said Mother's Day 2012 wasn't. 

We still have time to make it rock, I guess.

Yes, I'm writing my blog on Mother's Day, being 10:40 am, while my husband is in the garage playing with his beer stuff, and my daughter takes her morning nap. 

May 13, 2012. Leak proofing RIMS system

I have a sink full of dishes that were left unwashed this morning after breakfast. I had to volunteer at the church this morning at 9am, and I just thought that on my way back, they would be draining in the dishwasher.  But that didn't happen. My husband thought The Sopranos were more interesting. 

I am defrosting some chicken, and I need to bake it, and make rice so that we could have home made Chipotle for lunch. Thank goodness I baked the beans last night. Oh, yeah, and I still need to wash those dishes.

Chipotle in action
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So as I was saying, Mother's Day 2011 really rocked. There was this expectancy of being a mom. I didn't feel like a mom yet, but I was excited. Going out to have dinner at Olive Garden so that I could pig out with the excuse of being pregnant did sound like a good idea a year ago.

I was this HUGE lady who was less than a week from her due date, and I had gained 36 lb by then. My belly looked like I was about to blow up. I knew I would soon be a mom, but I didn't feel like one. I wasn't really one. And you can get all upset with me about it, but before having a baby in your arms, especially if you are a first timer, you don't really know what you're getting into.

I don't think I had any idea back then what being a mom was really about. I had no idea that I would not sleep like in, well, I still don't sleep. Not because of Elizabeth, but because I can't sleep. Plus my next bundle of hairy love is 19 weeks tomorrow. I'm almost half way through my second pregnancy.

Hard to believe she's almost one year old

But then, on May 24, 2011, I became a mom. I still think that it is awesome that Libby shares her birthday with Emerson. She is his best birthday gift ever.

This morning at church I had this kind of feeling that God wanted me to do something with my life. DUH!!

Yes, He has a purpose for my life, I know that. I've always known it. When I became a mother, the world stopped. It was like there was this big pause in my life, a pause in what I was doing. The big pause actually started from the momemt we moved to Houston. I stopped doing everything I used to do, volunteering here and there, teaching here and there...

Then, having a baby, not to mention 5 people living in a one bedroom apartment, overwhelmed me. I was falling apart in a way, because I felt helpless. I wanted to do so many things, but I was like this slave to this child that was in my arms, who needed to be breastfed around the clock, and yada, yada. 

Becoming a mother changed my world. I guess it changes everybody's world. But being a mother has changed my priorities, and my life, in short. But I would do it all over again.

I would suffer all the things that I've suffered, just for her and this new baby growing inside of me. My life is not pink, not really. I'd say it's especially black before I was a Christian. Sometimes I wish I could take all those unwise choices back, but I don't really mean it. I mean, I have repented, and I'm forgiven, I know that.

But it is because of those poor choices that I got to a point where I realized I needed Jesus. It is because of Him, that I am the mom I am.

It is because of God, my husband, Libby and Baby2, that I think being a mom is the best job in the world. People I know would tell me that I'm overpopulating this world, and that I lost my opportunity at being "somebody". Well, yes, I was very good at research and I published a paper. So what? Am I an idiot for choosing different?

"Who is that?"

Well, no, I don't think so. I'm making a difference in this world. I'm not a  PhD, but believe me, raising a child in a God honoring way, takes more brains that publishing a paper. Emerson can testify to that. He says his paper doesn't kiss him goodnight.

Anyway...I guess TV has made people believe that Mom needs to have a day, like a special day, but only one. You know what I mean? It's all about selling stuff, not only for Mother's Day, but any kind of holiday. So I guess I've always had opposite emotions about the whole Mother's Day thing.

To start with, in Mexico, they celebrate it on May 10th. It doesn't matter if that's a Monday. That was last Thursday. My mom asked me on Friday what Libby had given me. 

- "Nothing, she's a baby. What was she gonna give me?" 
-"Well, I know. But Emerson must have bought you something, right?"
- "Well, not really... I think we won't do anything special today."

That was it. I cooked lunch for Libby and I on Thursday, like usual. I washed the dishes after lunch as usual. I put her down for a nap at 3 pm, as usual. I spent my Mother's Day, like any other day. It was actullay bad, because I needed to iron Emerson's clothes for work, and it takes me like an hour. An hour that Libby sleeps, so when it's ironing day, I don't get to rest at all. This time, I burned my hand, not bad, though, but it hurt.

Then Emerson came from work, and I, after saying hi and all, asked him, "Where's my cake? It's Mother's Day. I thought you were going to bring me an ice cream cake", to which he responded, "I need five minutes alone."  

And only by the grace of God, I didn't follow him to the bedroom, I gave him his five minutes. He came out and said, "I work very hard and when I get home, all I hear is that it is not enough." So my Mother's Day wasn't working out very special.

We went to Sam's Club for something he needed for his beer, and on the way back we bought the cake. He suggested to wait for Sunday, but I was craving it so badly, I didn't care. I wanted to feel special that day, and I wasn't feeling anything.

The night came, and I talked to my mom, again. We argued about some tickets for Libby's party which we are having in Mexico, God willing, in exactly two weeks from now. I was so stressed out, so many things going through my mind, so helpless, so freaking angry for not being able to please everybody. I cannot be there to organize my daughter's first birthday party.

I even took a cake decorating class for making her first cake, and I won't be able to do that. Emerson thought it wasn't wise to try to bake a cake for one hundred people, in Mexico, where I won't have my materials, my mixer, my tips, my everything. And even if I could get all that, I would be spending at least three days before the birthday just baking and decorating the thing.

And he didn't mention it, but I thought that if I wouldn't have liked how the cake turned out, I would have been the most miserable mother in all the world. Emerson and I talked about the things I didn't like, you know, about the party and all. He listened. He encouraged me to cry since he could see my vains in my face. 

We argued, I cried, I wanted to eat my ice cream cake. I ended up saying, "I just wanted to feel special today, I just wanted this day to be special. And now I'm crying, and I will have cake with a runny nose, and tomorrow my eyes will hurt."

We dealt with all the issues that were stressing me out. He made me focus on what is really important here. 

People will always be talking. Someone won't like the cake, I can swear that. My mom, for example. She is actually buying it, but I can tell you she won't like it. My father-in-law will say something, probably nothing harmful, but it is difficult for everybody to agree on everything. I mean, honestly, people will say the park was too far away, or that we needed more chairs. I'm listening to them already...

But Emerson told me about this video he watched where this military dad saw his son walking for the first time when the boy was six. I think he had something like polio or similar. Emerson said that if people didn't eat, who cared? I mean, they will eat more than enough... But what mattered here was that the three of us would be joyful to be celebrating that our daughter is healthy, that she's smart, that she is a git from God. She is amazing.

Emerson made me focus my eyes on Jesus. He led me spiritually as the head of my home, and I'm thankful and proud of him for that.

"Chillax, Mamma. Just look at Jesus."

Of course, after fraking out and crying, I remembered that these verses are some of the ones I'm praying everyday for my family for this 2012. It was neat to see my husband being the recipient of my prayers, and helping me.

 "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus" ~ Heb 12:2

"Set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God" ~ Col 3:1 

"Set your mind on things above, not earthly things" ~ Col 3:2

On Friday morning, my eyes did hurt. I went with Merrith to a play date at her church, for Mother's Day. Libby didn't take a nap that morning, and getting her to sleep after she woke up from her quick nap in the car on the way back was awful. She was exhausted. But at least I made a cute craft, and took some pictures. 

Mother's Day 2012 Craft, by Mommy

Happy Mom
Smiling at the camera

More kisses

Smoothie time
"Mom, what about these Cheez-It?"

So know how today went. I cooked Chipotle for lunch. We'll probably have tuna for dinner, unless Emerson wants Chipotle again. I washed the dishes so my kitchen is clean now. 

Oh, by the way, my daughter did wake me up today with a chocolate and our song, the medley of Over the Rainbow and What a Wonderful World, by Israel Kamikaze... ha ha ha!! that's easier to write than Kamakawiwo'ole.

4:00 pm

We just came back from buying a pair of black shoes for my dress for Libby's party. So, last year we went to Olive Garden. This year Emerson asked me if I wanted to go eat somewhere. But I needed something pretty for Libby's party. I wanted a dress for the party, and don't forget I am pregnant.

I reasoned in my head that I could get everything, dinner and the dress, and the shoes. I am not a wife that is constantly asking for stuff, really, I'm not. But I thought that was kind of abusive. We need money for the trip, and the party, and all that. I really like Pappasito's Cantina for especial occasions, but I just figured that whatever we would eat would end up in the toilet, and being flushed away. 

At least 50 dollars drown in the toilet... Yummy, yummy food, but poop anyway. So I went only for the dress and shoes.

I guess that after gaining perspective from these last days, and today, I think that every mother wants to feel special. But more than having just one day for celebrating me, I want my children to love me and appreciate for what I do all the days of their lives, and express it continuously, not just one day.

At small group last night we read Luke 6:32, "If you love who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that" 

 I don't know if this has anything to do, I'm not a Bible teacher at all, but I think it is easy, really easy to celebrate your mother, and be kind to her for one day. But what credit is that to you? I would expect my children to treat me kindly, lovingly, and respectfully, the other 364 days as well.

And even if they don't treat me that way, my hard work for them is not really for them, if I make sense at all.  My identity and what I do depends on God. He is the one I'm serving by serving them. He is the one I'm loving when I'm loving them. My identity relies on who I am in Him, not on if my children think I'm the best mom, because I will probably make many mistakes. 

I had this uncle who "found out" we were Jewish descendants. My other last name, Sauer, happened to be, according to him, very Jewish. He did research,  and found some rabbis, and I think he converted to Judaism. The family says he now has grown a hairy beard like Orthodox Jews do. He carries his Bible under his arm, all the time. Well, I don't really know if the Bible, because if he converted to Judaism, they don't use The Bible I use. I don't care if I'm part Jew.

Other time, my dad made a big deal because on Facebook I changed my last name to Nunez. His brother, my uncle Chucho, told him that he didn't have any niece. That his niece was Karla Rendon, that he didn't know Karla Nunez was his niece. I couldn't care less. 

My identity is based on who I am and whose I am, not my race, not my last name, not even if I am Elizabeth's mom. 

I am Karla. I am loved for who I am. I am forgiven. I have been redeemed. I am a child of the King. I am a princess. 

My husband very graciously offered to wash the dishes tonight so that I could finish writing this. You don't say no to that. He picked Chipotle again.  

Mother's Day Dinner, 2012.

In summary, Mother's Day 2012 rocked. I am the mother of one beautiful baby girl, and I will be the mother of another baby. We'll find out at delivery if Elizabeth gets to have a sister or a brother.  

My two biggest gifts
"Is that really a baby, Mom?"

I have a husband who is following Jesus, and who makes me want to follow him. I have everything I need. God is good to me. He is faithful, and He will be with us every day for the rest of our lives.

So, if after all that, you decide to throw in a fair trade organic chocolate bar, pretty shoes, a dress, and a cake...

What can I tell you? Hecks,  yeah! I will take them. 

Happy Mother's Day to me!!  

Mommy's gifts

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