My drunk angel

If you are a follower of this blog, please disregard this post. Do not read it if you do not want to read about my crazy life, and how I deal with my issues. This is not a post about Elizabeth, and how blessed I am to be her mother. This is not about wisdom or parenting. It's more for my personal records, as to remember that these are the things happening in my life now. Since I quit writing my diary, I feel I need to record this somewhere.

Last night was the very first night that I felt I couldn't take care of my daughter. It made me think of how awful it must be to deal with postpatum depression, becuase I really felt hopeless. It was the first night that I felt I had given up on Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth has been waking up lately in the middle of the night. I don't really know what's going on, she's probably teething. But it has been very hard for me, not only during this past week, but probably since the day she was born, and even before that. 

By now, it's like not sleeping well is a given for me, something I have been dealing with for a long time. It started when I got married, and it got worse when I became pregnant. I guess all this time I've just been living with it. I'm not really sure I want to make a big deal out of it... I won't. 

I have thought about going to the doctor and ask for pills, but what would be the use in doing that? To start with, I was pregnant, then I was nursing. Now, I am pregnant, and I will be nursing. So if anything, I will be able to safely use sleeping pills by the time I'm 30. But in all conciosuness, I don't want to, and I won't become slave to a pill. I've seen what sleeping pills make to your body, only to need more pills later, and more pills. I don't want that. Libby is growing fast, by the way.

   

Evidence shows Elizabeth is taller...

I've always heard stories of supernatural provision for God'children. There was a lady in my small group at BSF last year, who told us the sory of how her husband was killed in a car accident while her their son was driving. As she laid down in the middle of the highway, there was a woman who approached her, and asked if she was okay. Lynn couldn't see her face, but she said this woman's voice comforted her. The woman told Lynn, "I can see you are a woman of God", as Lynn held her Bible against her chest. Lynn said she indeed was a woman of God, she told this woman that she prayed. 

I don't remember what happened next, but I think the paramedics and lots of people got there, and as Lynn tried to look for this woman, no one had seen her, and she was informed that nobody had been there before the ambulance came. Lynn believes she was an angel. I believe that, too.

This year the same thing happened. This time the woman in my group was Jere. She told us yesterday about one day that her husband got really sick and was bleeding, almost to death. She took him to the hospital in the middle of the night, which was a very difficult and frightening thing for her to do, because she can't see well at night. She parked in the wrong entrance, she'd never been to the E.R. of that particular hospital before. She didn't know what to do, she couldn't leave the car there, otherwise it would be towed away.

But at the same time, her husband needed her help, she was all he had, and she was in panic for not knowing what to do. And a very tall man came, and meet her in the parking lot, just out of the blue. He was well dressed, he was wearing a suit. He asked if he could help her. She explained the situation, and the man offered to take the car to the parking lot in front of the E.R. She didn't hesitate, she said she felt this peace that you know comes from God, she knew she could trust this man. And just like that, she handed him the car keys. 

He could have robbed the car, but he didn't. When Sam was being taken care of, she went to the parking lot, and tried to look for this man. She never found him, and the car was there, of course. She is sure he was an angel. She believes that, and I believe that, too.

These are two ladies in their sixties. I would be very skeptical, even being a Christian and believing in these things, if these stories came from a twenty-year-old. But these are women who I have observed during nine months, very humble women. They are not making this up.

The only encounter I've had with what I think was an angel was a day when I had a fight with Emerson. I don't think I was even pregnant. Emerson thinks sometimes, well... most of the time he thinks he doesn't need help. Long story short, I saw a man standing in a corner asking for help with a sign that read, "Everybody, needs help sometimes." 

I grabbed the guy and took him to McDonald's in my car. Stupid thing to do. He was a Christian tough, I tested him for true faith, as Jeff has carefully taught me, and he actually was. Or at least he answered correctly to all the things I asked him. But if you are not really a Christian, there are things you don't understand and are not familiar with, at all. I am pretty sure he was a Christian.

After he told me things I needed to hear that day, I left him in the same corner, and in less than two minutes, I couldn't find him anymore. Was he an angel? I don't know. I don't think so, because I could smell alcohol in his breath. 

She looks like an angel :))

Anyway...last night I was awake when Elizabeth started crying at 12 am. I, as usual, waited for at least thirty minutes to see if she would go back to sleep, but she didn't. At around 12:30 am, I changed her diaper, but she continued crying. I checked on her at 1, and 1:30 am. But she kept on crying. 

By 2 am, I was tired. I didn't know what to do. I tried to sing to her, and I actually tried to make her sleep in the bed with us, but she was just playing. I told her she needed to go back to sleep, and as I put her back on her crib, she would freak out, and wouldn't let go of my hair. By 3 am, I was exhausted... 

Not sleeping well during the night is very different from not even having the opportunity to try to sleep because your baby is crying. At least when she's asleep, I can just try to rest and close my eyes, but I wasn't able to do that last night. I was literally exhausted.... I've never felt that way before. My body has been coping with no sleep for a long time now, and I am pregnant. I sometimes take naps, but that doesn't happen every day. It hasn't happened today, when I really feel like I could use one. I put her down for a nap at 3 pm; it's 4 pm, and she is still crying.    

Last night I felt hopeless, I felt powerless to comfort Libby. I rocked her at 3 am, again. She was crying, but every time she was in my arms, she was very peaceful. I knew she didn't need anything. When I put her back in the crib, the cry was really bad, it was an angry cry. She didn't want to be left alone. I felt angry, not with her, just with the whole situation. I knew that I needed to leave the room. I could feel desperation coming my way, and exploding against her. Emerson tells me I usually talk to her in a really bad mood when she cries during the night, and I didn't want to treat my daughter that way.

I hold her very tight, and whispered, "I am so sorry, Honey. Mommy is exhausted. I cannot do this anymore. I can't take care of you, Libby. My body just can't. Go night, nights." And I left the room, crying. 

I began sobbing in the middle of the night. I was angry at the fact that my body was feeling the way it was. I began telling God how I was feeling...

"I know you care for me, I know you love me... Just help her sleep, please. My body needs rest. You created the night to rest, then why can't I sleep? I feel so fucking tired, God. This is how I actually feel..." 

The Jumpy-Jumpy.

I don't know what happened last night. But I felt like an urgency to pray for people. I prayed for my sister. I prayed for the people who will read my book, I thanked God for Libby, for the baby He is knitting in my womb, and for the husband He gave me. I thanked Him for his many blessings in my life. I wasn't mad with Him. I can honestly say that when I asked Him about my sleep, I was really asking Him, not complaining to Him. I never complained to Him about me having the right to sleep, or ever became angry at Him.

I told Him how I really believed He was the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I told him I was convinced of that.  I asked Him to heal me, to help me sleep. But He said, "Karla, I won't heal you."

I am crying while I am writing this, because I knew this was Him. James 1:5 says that if anyone lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives generously to all without finding fault. But when you ask, it says, do not doubt when you get an answer. So I asked this morning again in my quiet time, not for an explanation of the why He wouldn't heal me, but if it was actually Him who told me that last night. 

I didn't want to be misled. It has happened to me before. It has happened to everyone. Sometimes we think we've heard from God, but it's not actually Him. All of us have a flesh that very often falls prey of our own selfish desires. Which once again, confirms that it was God who spoke to my heart. I definitely wanted to hear a "Yes, I will heal you. Let's do it right now. Go to sleep." But I didn't hear that, and it broke my heart. 

This morning He showed me, through my reading of Scripture, that it was a "Yes, it was Me who told you that."

The WHY is weird. I asked Him last night, and He said it was like my thorn in the flesh. I've thought about it before in that way, but never heard God referring to it like that. He said it was for me to rely on Him. I am not super excited about this, but it kind of makes sense. Actually I have come to terms with it, very fast, just today. I mean, to see things from a positive perspective, at least now I know why the heck I can't sleep!

And if this is from God, which I believe it is, no freaking pills will do the trick. 

Okay, so, I am not a saint. Who am I? I am not Paul. I mean, Paul had a thorn in the flesh, but look at Him. He was Paul. I am just me. Why would God think I need a thorn just like Paul? I am not comparing myself with Paul, and please, do not make God a monster, who curses His children. He knows His purposes. 

I know who I am, and this is probably good for me, in a way that I can't describe. I mean, it is weird to say that it is good for me not to sleep well. I guess all I am saying is that I have been experiencing this thing for a long time now, and I have always relied on God to give me the strength I need for the day. 

Last year, Isaiah 40:28-31 meant the world to me. I had always thought about being tired spiritually, but for me this thing is literal. God is inexhaustible. He never grows tired or weary, He gives strength to the weary, and increases the power of the weak. Last night was a low, low night. But after He telling me the good news last night, He also told me to go say night, nights to my daughter. After ten minutes, she either stopped crying or I passed out. I think it was both. I did sleep a little. He provided just what I needed. 

Pancakes before

Pancakes after

Isaiah said that those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. I can feel that. I feel that every morning, after being up for about 30 minutes, and after watching Elizabeth, who looks fresh as a lettuce (even with not sleeping for three hours during a night like last). Honestly, I just need to start the day, get up, see the light outside, start listening to our morning songs, and the energy comes my way. 

I can't explain how it is, how it works, or how it happens. Merrith says she would be awful all day long. I can see that in Emerson, too. God only knows why Emerson is able to sleep through three hours of Libby crying :))

This Knowing-why-I-don't-sleep gives me hope. It is stupid... Well, no, it only sounds stupid if you have no idea of who God is, and what He is capable of doing. But every morning after we go walking, we come back, and read our Bibles. We pray for the people in our log, and when Libby goes to bed in the morning, I do my own Bible reading. No matter how tired I am, I always read my Bible, and sometimes, in the middle of it, fall asleep, I have to say. But I want to read it, and spend time with God every day. I like that.

Since Elizabeth was born, I have come to understand better this thing called grace. I would forgive my daughter for everything, absolutely everything bad she would do or say to me. Just because I love her. That is the grace God offers when you trust in Jesus.

God is changing me. He is really conforming Emerson and I more and more into the image of His Son.

My last notes from BSF said that the glory for everything must go to God. Because if we try to take it for ourselves, we do not really understand the gospel, and we will never experience the fullness of God's blessings here on earth, tough we will hereafter. But that if we praise God for everything, absolutely everything, we will know the fullness of God's joy, moment by moment. 

I want that. I want His joy moment by moment. Even if my "everything" is not sleeping like I would like to.

"Fly me to the moon, Dadda."

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 today...you 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

G.I. Libby

I don't think God is a tyran who makes us do whatever He pleases. Neither do I think that He is a softy who can be manipulated by our desires. God has a perfect balance. He disciplines us, but at the same time, He is compassionate towards us.

That is what I want to do with my children.

After reading yesterday's post, I asked God this morning exactly how I was supposed to make my children obey me, and even more than that, what I needed to do for them to want to obey. 

I usually pray with Merrith on our morning walk, but today we didn't go to BSF, since Libby is sick – again. So I had the opportunity to pray for a bunch of stuff.

The Bible says that when we do not know what we should pray for, the Spirit of God himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.

I don't really know how it happened. I was trying to ask God a very specific question, but I couldn't think of it.  I knew it in my heart, but I needed to use my words, like Emerson says.

May 8, 2012. Smiley Raikika.

I was trying to tell God something that He would understand... but the good thing is God is not my husband. 

He knew what I wanted to ask. Before I could even begin to speak, He brought 2 Kings 20:1- 6 to mind:

In those days Hezekiah became ill and was at the point of death. The prophet Isaiah son of Amoz went to him and said, "This is what the Lord says: Put your house in order, because you are going to die; you will not recover."

Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord, "Remember, Lord, how I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done what is good in your eyes." And Hezekiah wept bitterly.

Before Isaiah had left the middle court, the word of the Lord came to him, "Go back and tell Hezekiah, the ruler of my people, 'This is what the Lord, the God of your father David, says: I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you. On the third day from now you will go up to the temple of the Lord. I will add fifteen years to your life. And I will deliver you and this city from the hand of the king of Assyria. I will defend this city for my sake and for the sake of my servant David.'"

I'm no Bible scholar, okay? I actually didn't hear all this... I just remembered "Put your house in order because you are going to die", and my iPhone did the dirty work for me.

This king Hezekiah was the only faithful king the southern kingdom had in a 100-year period. Because of his prayer and faith, God healed him and saved the city from the Assyrians.

When I read this -while at the same time I continued walking- I still had no idea of the question I wanted to ask. But God knew better. He knew that all I needed was for Him to tell me that sometimes He lets go.

Sometimes He doesn't give me immediate time outs when I deserve them.

I let Elizabeth go free today when she touched the computer. When I saw her do it, I just told her to remember that was a No, No. I grabbed her hand, and pointed her towards the living room. She followed me. She didn't care about the computer that much.

I've noticed that she actually keeps on touching it every time I start counting, but today all I did was to tell her to come with me, and she followed me... Oh, well. I still need to learn so many things about children, I guess. Like for example how to take care of two at the same time :)

Libby has begun to walk. She takes five or six steps at a time. She used to do three or four, and just jumped into your arms, but now she is walking in a calmer way, without trying to run. The other day she almost hit her head on the wall just because she wanted to go so fast. She let go, and started walking from the wooden bench, while I was in the kitchen.

First steps

Daddy built an obstacle course for her yesterday. It seemed that she liked it. The mission was to rescue La Nena. I don't like that doll, I don't know. I just don't want Libby to get attached to any toy, because if for whatever reason she loses it, it will be the end of the world.

I have seen her play with all of them, Perrito Guau Guau, Gatito Miau, Ranita Ruaba Ruaba, El Tío Chucho, Blue Blue, Mr. E, among others. But lately, she has been grabbing La Nena for everything...

Daddy is getting her a Harry The Bunny. See, I wouldn't mind for her to develop this dependency for Harry, I think it would actually be cute. Maybe I am in love with that bunny. I honestly love him. He is so cute, and she always smiles when she watches the show. It melts my heart.

Going in

Crossing diaper tunnel

"I've got you, Nena"

Figuring a way out

On the way in, everything was fine, she got La Nena, and she was happy. But coming out, she realized it wasn't that easy. She began crying and I felt bad. Almost like we were making her cry for selfish motives, just for us to see her play.

But Emerson told me to let her cry, that this was a challenge, and that she needed to solve the problem in any way she could. So she did. She tried to push the pack n' play first, but she couldn't. 

Then she moved the box out of the way, climbed over the bench, and then rescued the doll. 

G.I. Jane, my butt.

"Let me go first, Nena"

"Now come with me"

Proud Mommy

After the rescue with Daddy

On condoms and diapers

- "Do you remember when we used to have condoms on the night stands?"

- "Yeah... What about it?"

- "Nothing... Now we have Good Night Moon, Row your Boat, and diapers."

What could I say? Emerson forgot to mention that on my side of the bed, I also have Desitin, wipes, saline solution and a bulb syringe, nail clipper, an exersaucer, a push toy, more diapers, etc...

These are our lives now, and I honestly love it. 

I think one of my purposes in life is to be a mom. I don't know if all women feel this way. I mean, they are moms because I guess they wanted to be moms, but I am talking about seeing motherhood as one of the most important privileges God can give you. A very challenging one.

Sometimes I think that what I say has no impact in Elizabeth. I repeat many times the same things the same day. I wonder if she understands... I know she is a baby!

I guess I am tempted to think that me explaining her why she shouldn't touch Mommy's computer is just a waste of time. But no matter how I feel, I have been consistent, and I am very proud of that. 

"You know Mommy's computer is a No, No. Let's go to the living room..."

"Libby, I am going to count to three. Obey Mommy. Let's go to the living room..."

"Libby, choose right and obey Mommy... 1, 2, 3"

"You chose to disobey Mommy. There is a consequence for disobeying Mommy, Libby. You get a time out in baby's jail."

"You know I love you very much. I always will. But I do not like it when you choose to disobey Mommy. God wants you to obey me. You have to trust God and Mommy. Now, I forgive you for disobeying, the slate is clean."

Pinga in blue

From the time she was around nine months old, she had this look on her face, like she knew she wasn't supposed to get into stuff. She would laugh, she would look at me, and do it anyway. She knows there are things that she shouldn't do. She is not an idiot. She is a baby, and she can't talk, but she understands.

I heard once that you shouldn't reason with children, and I guess reasoning means that you should not try to make them understand the why's of things, sometimes. I don't really know. I used to baby sit this girl, and she would always cry when mom left. I tried to explain to her that Mommy needed to go to work, because she would get money, and pay bills, and bring food, etc. 

I guess that kind of reasoning is dumb, because she wouldn't stop crying.

But I firmly believe that you need to explain your children, at least I will explain my children the why of things in regards to discipline. I won't argue with them. It is very simple. You disobey, there is a consequence. Obedience is not optional.

Simple and concise answers. Why should I obey? First, because God expects you to, it is not optional. The Bible says, "Children obey your parents for this is right". Second, you are entrusted to me by God. I am your Mommy, and I know better than you. It is my God-given job to teach you obedience. I cannot force you to obey me, you will always have a choice. But should you choose wrong, there is a consequence for that.

That is life. Discipline sucks. It is painful at a time, but later on, it produces a harvest of righteousness for those who have been trained by it. I am not a robot that obeys God because I have to, but because I have lived long enough to know that my choices sometimes have been poor, and I still live with the consequences.

And I do not obey perfectly, but God is gracious. And so I need to offer grace, and be loving, and be patient all at the same time. And it is not only about discipline, but about teaching everything else: joy, self-control, gentleness... then sex, abortion, adultery. 

It's about teaching God's perspective in every area of their lives. 

This parenting thing is challenging, but it is not impossible. I have the perfect Father. I can look at Him and measure myself. I can take a look at what He does right... pretty much everything, ha!!

Our gift from above

I am determined to be a godly mother. I know from the bottom of my heart that being one does not have any guarantee of having godly children. But by golly, they will know what is right and what is wrong. I will teach them the truth. 

    

I take this thing very seriously... sometimes I think more than I should. But see? I feel that thinking that way is silly, stupid. Where is the commitment then? I do not want to be a mother that uses the TV to entertain my child. I will not exasperate my children, or just treat them like a nuisance.

I was thinking the other day that wisdom not only means to know God and do what is right, but also to look at what is wrong, and not doing it. Okay, so, if you have seen that someone has suffered for a bad choice, why would you do exactly the same thing? You do not have to experience bad circumstances if you can avoid them.

I'm talking about my parenting skills, not about the choices my children will make. I totally understand they will think at one point that they know it all, and they might not listen to our advice. And if that's their choice, sometimes we will have to exercise tough love. 

But personally, about parenting, I have seen many parents doing things that I do not want to do. I can see how smart Elizabeth is. I know it. Sometimes I am afraid she will question everything, I believe she will. She is my daughter. That is how we are raising her, to ask questions. I explain everything, almost everything to her. I guess I really focus on the Bible. 

We (I) got tired of Leviticus. We are taking a break for a while. We are reading Luke. I like to explain everything to her. It's like I am having a Bible study with a one year-old, it is funny. But I think it has eternal consequences.

I take this so seriously that that's why I think this is one of my purposes. I am funny, I am silly... I am five months pregnant, and I still throw her in the air, and dance with her, and do a lot of stuff. Plus I cook, clean, and all that other stuff. 

But this is my job, and with God's help, I honestly think I am doing great. I will never be the perfect mom or wife, but I am a great mom and a great wife. 

Not a perfect mom...

Anyways... this is always in my head, the parenting thing. In other more interesting aspects about my life, Libby has learned to play Peek a Boo. The other day she hid behind the couch, and was just showing me her face, I was in the kitchen. 

She has been doing lots of new things. I will write another post with more photos later.

I am glad there are no more condoms on the night stands, and I love my husband so much... 

HOY TOCA.

"Where is Libby?"

"Peek a boo!!"

Thank you, Emer

Someone told me once that you shouldn't pray for patience. I remember being in a situation where I was just  tired of waiting for something to happen, or God showing up. I told this lady I had asked God to give me more patience to bear with this.

She said, "Well, that is your answer. That's why you shouldn't pray for patience."

I know it was a joke, because God knows what I need, and if He thinks I need to work on my grace or my forgiveness, I bet He would make arrangements for me to work on that. But I also think that sometimes we don't really know what we pray for. 

What I mean is that sometimes when I pray for patience (which in my case what I really want is tolerance) I think God is gonna be like, "Here you go, there is your patience." But I guess what He really does is putting me in situations where I need to exercise patience or tolerance, like my daughter crying for no reason at all non-stop.

No kidding, the other day she was just crying, and crying, and sometimes I feel like screaming at her, but I stop, and breathe, and walk away. What I hear in my mind during all that time is, "Self-control, slow to get angry."

Anyways... Three nights ago, Libby woke up at 3 am, and cried until 4 am. I complained with my voice, and I ended up letting her sleep with us on the bed. I don't sleep very well to start with, so when it was time to get up, she woke up at 6 am sharp, as usual.

Morning Pinga 

She was very, very happy. She seemed like nothing had happened. It is difficult to be angry at her, I wasn't. 

But I was very tired. I didn't feel joy or anything that would resemble joy in my heart nor you could see it in my face. And Emerson opened his mouth...

"Just look at her, how joyful she is. I challenge you to be like her. You are always complaining, but you have to be joyful always. This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." 

Emerson doesn't usually tell me stuff from the Bible, but I'm guessing this was God speaking trough Him or something like that. I didn't like what I heard. 

"Really? This morning you are the spiritual guy that tells me what the Bible says... of all the mornings, you chose this one? Who do you think you are? Can you even imagine how it feels not to sleep well, and then having to be awake for an hour in the middle of the night, and sleep at the border of the bed so that your daughter has enough space in your bed? You sleep like a rock, but I don't", I thought. 

I am sorry, Emerson. 

After several minutes I realized he was right, and that is what joy means. No matter your circumstances, you are to be joyful. I just figured that it might be referring to someone dying, or not having money, instead of not sleeping well.

I have dealt with no sleeping well for a long time now, and I won't go into the details, because I would be writing forever. It is enough to say that God keeps me going when I feel I can't go anymore. Something like Paul's thorn in the flesh. And although it sucks sometimes, I am very blessed that there are times when I can take a nap or just fall asleep in the couch, when we are watching a movie I don't really like. 

So the bad night was Wednesday night. Thursday night, or more like middle of the night, around 2 am, when I usually move to the couch because Elizabeth starts dreaming and making noises, I prayed that God would help me remember to be joyful always, pray continually and be thankful in all circumstances, like the Bible verse says.

"Just help me remember to be joyful first thing in the morning when I hear my daughter crying. Just help me focus on being joyful. Please help me remember that as soon as I hear her."

So she woke up Friday morning at 5:50 am, and I was just ready to go. God did answered my prayer that morning, I smiled at my daughter as soon as she came to say good morning to the couch, and I never felt like every morning, with this feeling of  "Just five more minutes, Libby".

But God took advantage of my honest heart, and went the extra mile with the joy giving. Well, not the joy giving, but the fact that I asked Him to help me be joyful. Yesterday morning He gave me plenty of opportunities to be joy-proofed.

So I didn't take a shower to start with. Libby and I dropped off Daddy at work, and went to have breakfast at Rudy's. We didn't have breakfast tacos this time, we just took our food. She had Chex, yogurt and bananas, and water.

Yogurt face at Rudy's

I decided to take Daddy to work on Friday because I didn't have to meet my friend Jeff on Skype until 1 pm, so I could go to Canino's, and Walmart, and skip grocery shopping during the weekend. But I needed cash for the market, so I needed to find either a CVS for a Chase ATM, or I needed to find a Chase.

But I didn't find any. The CVS I went to didn't have an ATM. Last time I was there they told me they had robbed the place so they didn't have it anymore. Hopefully that will give you an idea of the neighborhood I was driving through. Oh, but guess what? I had forgotten I had been at that CVS before until we got there. 

Of course, that's so me. 

I kept on going, and a guy said on a red light, that there was a Chase on 34th, and 290. I went there, but I didn't see anything. And then, the GPS told me there was a Chase on Hempstead or around there, but all there was there was like an empty lot.

"You've got to be kidding me... I so hate you, but love you because at least you can take me out of here." And then I clicked Go Home for the thing to take me to 290, so I could still go to Canino's.

So, I didn't have any cash with me, but you don't need cash when you know the lady that sells you the fruit, you even went to her daughter's baptism, of course she could lend me the fruit, right??

Elizabeth fall asleep going there, but I could park in front of her place, and buy the fruit while Libby was sleeping. And when we got there, Lupita wasn't there yet. And Daddy had told me not to use Canino's ATM so that Chase wouldn't charge us a fee. Ahhhhh!!!

Row, Row, Row your boat.

This might be nothing for you, but I felt stressed out. I texted Emerson, but he didn't answer. I just felt like an idiot. I was there with no money, the fruit lady wasn't there to give me the fruit for ''free", and Libby opened her eyes after being asleep for 30 minutes, and started crying...

I've heard many times pastors say that there is that one millisecond or (less) when you are faced with making a decision. That it is then when you have to stop and think, "What do I do? Should I choose right or wrong?"

But that's kind of stupid, I mean, don't take me wrong. I know that's what probably happens in your brain, but it happens so fast that I highly doubt you can literally stop and think what to do.

But that's when prayer works. Prayer and the fact that you have conditioned yourself to think the way God thinks by reading your Bible. Libby started crying, and I smiled at her, and was happy she was awake. I told her, "Hey! You woke up on your own. That's great because we need to go buy fruit to the other side because Lupita is not here, but we can use the debit card there." 

That was it. I didn't really stop and wondered, "Ok, she is up. Should I be mad because she only slept 30 minutes? Should I explode for that freaking GPS thanks to which I have no cash? Or should I be joyful?"

No, I didn't think those things. I honestly didn't. But I was there. I didn't drive all the way there to come back home empty handed. I had no cash, but I had a debit card which I could use to buy the stuff. And if it ended up being a little bit more, then, oh, well, thank you GPS for giving me no cash.

So we bought our stuff, and Libby was very happy. You could see she was tired, but she could hold it like the good sport she is.

Perrito Guau Guau y El Tío Chucho

On our way back though, I started singing this song to Libby from Seeds Familiy Worship, it's actually a Bible verse. "Beee joyful alwaaaays, praaaay contiiinually, give thanks in aaall circumstances...give thanks in aaall circumstanceees... for this is God's will for you in Chriiist Jesus, this is God's will for youuu in Christ Jesuuuus."

I explained to her what that meant. No matter what, you are to be joyful. God wants you to talk to Him all the time for any reason, and you can say thank you, God, at any moment for anything. I felt joy in my heart. I realized until then that I had passed my joy test that day.

Maybe my test wasn't supposed to be my daughter crying that morning. Maybe God wanted to show me that joy applies to any situation in my life. 

Joy has to be applied especially when things go totally wrong, well, totally opposite according to what you were expecting like yesterday morning. And I felt happy, I started singing louder and louder, and Libby started yelling, like she lately does. Putting her hands up like a little tyran and saying, "Da da, ta tatataaaaa", like when Daddy says, "Silence your mouth, Dori."

And then the Mommy I am showed up and we (I) began signing, "Who are we? We are Christians! Who do we love? We love Jesus! Who do we hate?? We hate Satan! What will we do?? We're gonna kick him, kick him, kick him in the butt... butt, butt, butt, butt" (like in that episode of It's always Sunny...)

And so I felt thankful that God helped me that day, that He answered my prayer, that He provides so that we could use a debit card. I felt thankful for my daughter. I felt Him smiling at me and being proud of me. 

I wish I could pass every test as easy as this, but I don't. But it's okay. He is a cool teacher who lets you study again and again, and retake and retake those tests.

I felt thankful for my husband. 

Mom was late for the photo