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Mom fails

May13

Mom dilemma #3721:  Your child does not turn in a major project. What do you do? Do you email the teacher for an extension? Do you reprimand your child verbally? Do you take away their privileges? Do you blame yourself for your poor time management and cluttered environment? All of the above? Sometimes I feel like I have this parenting thing down. Other days I realize I don’t have any idea what I’m doing and I’m operating from intuition and hope.

I used to think that it was Mondays, specifically Monday mornings,  where I had my major parent fails. Nope, puede ser any day. During the work week, I deal with parents who ask me for advice about their adolescents. I’ve worked in high schools or 22 years. I have been a mother for 10(I include pregnancy). I have more experience and more damn sense being a high school administrator and teacher than I do being a mom. 

I wonder how much damage I have done. Will she fail academically? Will she end up depressed or anxious? Will she abuse drugs or sex? Will she hate me someday? Does she hate me now? I make the mistakes I advise parents to avoid.  I say things which hurt my daughter’s feelings. These mom fails make us all feel terrible.  

Parenting never gets any easier. But the love for my child gets deeper and more complicated. My little person is growing up into an individual with a mind of her own, a will I don’t want to break and a heart I don’t want to disappoint. I pray to be a better parent daily. I wish to be a good mom. I wish M could understand all the different things that go through my mind, all the fears and doubts. I wish it were simple but it never was and won’t be. I can only hope that the love I feel always guides me.

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Sleepless in San Leandro, the sequel

Feb14

One night this past fall, I was up for two hours between 2 and 4am. M had told me she had misplaced her Moana TsumTsum.  She did not yet tell me it had been gone for weeks. M, like both of her parents, is a notorious pack rat so she struggles with clutter. I stayed up looking through things, recycling paper, throwing trash out, and adding to our donation bag. I hoped to find it.

I know I could have used that time in a different way. I could have worked; there are always emails to answer, agendas to craft, a newsletter to compose and translate into Spanish.  I could have worked creatively by posting to my blog.  I could have practiced one of my dance routines as there are now occasional gigs with my dance group. While I may know a routine, I can always work on technique and precision. That comes from lots of practice. Given my time management struggles, this does not consistently happen.

While I could have used those two hours differently, I sat and knelt in the dark, going through different drawers and boxes to find the missing toy. In the morning, M said I shouldn’t have wasted my time. When I saw how crestfallen she looked at the thought of not seeing this toy again, I knew she would be happy if it was found. She then told me it had been missing for a long time.  She decided to ask Santa for a new one. During another round of cleaning a month or so later, we found a bag of toys we had stored during the summer.  Moana was there.  We had several good laughs about that late night of cleaning.

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I do a lot for M because I would like her to feel good or better. When M was tiny, we spent hours up at night. We would play. I would chat with her. She didn’t sleep through the night until she was two years old. (Sleepless in San Leandro)I didn’t know what it was like to get several hours of sleep for a few years.  Despite the challenges, it was time well spent.   As a mom, I often question my commitment to dance, writing, and my career because of the time they take from M. Making a difference as an educator and as a writer are important to me. She is the person I want to make the most difference for in this life. M is my reason.

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A parent’s lament

Apr13

I hate feeling and acting like a terrible parent. Yelling.   Making statements like “I’m not letting you go to the birthday party if you don’t do x, y, and z.” Being angry with my child. This Lent I challenged myself to work on my patience. I feel like I’ve failed. I have had great moments.  There are other times I feel I don’t communicate with M anymore.  I feel like a failure.

I’m grateful for my parents. But they made mistakes. It wasn’t easy for them. It’s not easy for me. I compare myself to other parents and think that they are doing it right.

Parents are responsible for so much. With each year that passes, it’s not easier. When they’re babies, they depend on you for everything. As toddlers, they fight for independence and often fight you about everything. But at the end of the day, toddlers love you. I know M loves me but I don’t know if she always understands me. With each passing year, communication becomes more challenging. The irony is that I’ve spent over 20 years working with teenagers yet I feel at a loss with my own child. I worry that I’m hurting her, letting her down, setting her up for future failure. I want so much for her to have a great life. I know it can’t be perfection but I hold myself to those high expectations.  On the other hand, I hear parents say “I was too nice. I did too much.”  So I’m often unsure of how to parent.

I don’t want M going to school sad, worried, upset, or confused. I don’t want her sitting there trying to concentrate on schoolwork while worrying that our relationship is at stake.   I’ve prayed for patience. I pray for her forgiveness. I want M to forgive my faults, my inability to take a deep breath and shut up. I want my silence to speak.  I wish there were a mother-child retreat when we could pray the Liturgy of the Hours and do Adoration together and pray for each other.

Earlier this week, I reflected on Holy Week being made holy by love(Love as key to holiness.) If only M could see how much I love her. If only I could show her my love instead of talking constantly. I’m at a loss.  This has been the most important and most difficult Lenten challenge. I pray for the ability to make changes for the sake of my child.

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St. Monica, pray for me and for us.

Parenting pains

Mar19
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Benita Lopez was no June Cleaver

I went from happy mom to guilty mom within 24 hours. My goal this Lent was to be more patient, to yell and nag less, to be more kind in my tone and facial expressions. My inadequate time management has left me feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. My patience wears thin.

On a typical Monday night, we get to the house at 8pm. M may have two to four pages of math homework to complete with her after completing her weekly 90 minute dance class. I usually have two loads of laundry to fold, ironing that’s been neglected for weeks and a sinkful of dishes to wash. If I was more organized, I’d take care of the household chores and prepack lunches while M and Rambo complete homework. Instead I’m likely catching up with work email and getting the bath ready. Instead, my less than adequate solution is to get up in the middle of night to do laundry and talk with Rambo and sometimes watch one of our Netflix shows. I sleep in. I let M sleep in. Then we’re scrambling. We’re packing lunch, making breakfast, continuing to load laundry, catching up on dish washing, and trying to get out on time.  I need to manage my time better.

It’s not that M is sitting back and doing nothing to help. She packs up her lunch and packs up the car by lugging all the things we carry: purse, backpack, dance bags, piano books. She will empty the dryer. She fills my water bottle. All things considered, she’s becoming resilient and independent.

I need to be mindful of those moments when she’s helpful. My child helps out because she wants to be a contributing member of our household. I hate when I use that voice. I have to get myself out of that mental space. Thank God we pray in the morning; otherwise I’d be a terror at all times.

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Lois might have relatable but life is no sitcom

It’s painful when I realize I’m not doing my best as a mom. I remember how I felt when I was disciplined harshly or when I felt I couldn’t confide in my mother. I give my mom all credit for being an example of tough womanhood that was rare in my family and culture. Still, I was a sensitive child and I often felt alone. I work to be a mom who is also a confidant. I need to work on I-statements and giving encouragement. I don’t want to hurt my child’s heart. The world will do enough of that. I continue to pray for patience so I can be a better mom.

Motivated by motherhood

Mar19

I had several moments in the last week when I broke my Lenten promise and lost my patience with M. Despite these challenges, M and I have a great relationship. I have fostered close communication. We are similar in sense of humor and in the way we articulate ourselves. People point out she’s your mini-me; she tries on my vocabulary and certain phrases and idioms. We can have relatively deep conversations about different subjects because she’s an observant critical thinker. I appreciate her how she perceives the world.  She jokes, “I’m much pettier than you are.” I replied, “No I’ve been petty for forty-four years.” She said, “I’ve been petty for millions of years.” She says that in fun because she has a better understanding of situations than many kids. I am confident that M will continue to evolve into a good woman because I deeply love her. She doesn’t always feel that. She sometimes says, “I don’t feel like you love me right now.” I am committed to mending our relationship and reassuring her that I will always provide support as her mom.

With the coming of spring, new life arrives. My best friend had her second child last week and one of my dance sisters had her firstborn child that week. I’m excited for my friends who are new moms.  It’s not easy to be a mom but it is motivating to know you have a person in your life who wants what’s best for you, of you, and from you.  The mother-child relationship is like no other.

I know of a fellow writer who publicly declared that her romantic love exceeded her mother love. I am still judging her for it. For the longest time, I was fixated on romantic love. My early blogs were focused on the search for romantic love and its challenges. Mother love is pure, infinite, and endures through many tests and trials. The way society has conceptualized and portrayed romantic love and the way we experience romantic love doesn’t measure up. Mother love is my greatest love.

M enriches my life in ways nobody else ever has. Of all the people in my life, my daughter has truly made me evolve into the best version of myself. I may have my bad moments. Motherhood motivates me and makes my world more beautiful every single day.
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4 Challenges in 40 Days

Mar2

“Long have I waited

For your coming home to me

And living deeply our new lives…” “Hosea” by John Michael Talbot.

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This Lent, I am taking on a 40 blogs for 40 days as part of the 4 Lenten challenges I will be completing.

One challenge is joining the now-viral  #40bagsin40days challenge to clear up clutter. This has been an ongoing challenge.  I have read Marie Kondo’s book, The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up, which had an impact on my wardrobe. I have also read numerous blogs and articles on thrift shopping and capsule closets which changed how I purchase and keep clothing and shoes. However it is a work in progress as clutter continues to consistently affect our home and my office at work. Purging daily, whether it is paper clutter or material items I don’t need, will clear space.  I don’t need much. What I need is love, family, discipline, and positive outlets. I have those blessings in place. It’s a matter of clearing space, energy, and time to truly enjoy them.

Rather than completely fasting from Facebook, I will be reducing my presence on social media. If I’m doing a 40 day writing challenge, social media is the best way to share my work. I will use social media purposefully.  I will post images and links related to my Lenten challenges and reflections. Another reason to revisit this traditional practice of reducing my time online is my actual enjoyment of this fast. Fasting from social media has gotten easier.  I don’t want my Lenten challenges to feel as if they are not sacrifices such as “Oh I’m giving up chocolate.” I moved away from that type of material sacrifice years ago because it doesn’t change me from within. Giving up Facebook and not posting status updates or sharing memes does not make me any less petty. Usually I get back online Easter Sunday and I’m posting a blog about how fulano de tal ruined my Lent. It’s not pure pettiness; there is some reflection involved.  Being off line is no easy fix.  I will move past venting through my writing over the course of these 40 days.

A challenge I began in therapy and within my immediate family is my commitment to stop being a mean mommy.(Can-do attitude)M  has always been articulate in expressing her opinions and feelings. While she is outwardly not thin-skinned, she’s much more sensitive than when she was 7. When I  hear her say, “you’re mad at me”, “you’re mean to me”  or use negative self-talk like “it’s my fault that…”, I cringe.  I am responsible for prompting my child to second-guess herself. In these 40 days, I will make a conscious effort to hold my tongue, monitor my body language and facial expressions, and modulate my tone of voice. I will be firm and tough but do it in a way that is nurturing, not demoralizing. Given our family’s histories, M is prone to anxiety. I will not be an additional stressor in her life. I want M to look at our relationship as one that strengthens her.

Finally, I will pray more in these 40 days. M and I will be praying the rosary during our commutes again. Instead of listening to New Edition during my morning drive to work(I’m not swearing off NE for 40 days! That blog is forthcoming), I will listen to gospel music.I will do some spiritual reading. I will participate in Best Lent Ever through Dynamic Catholic. This program has changed the way I experience Lent. Lent has become a beloved season  which I anticipate yearly.  I love what Lent offers my family, my prayer life, what it does for my relationship with myself and ultimately my relationship with God. God bless.

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To learn more about the #40bagsin40days, visit 40 bags in 40 days

To join Dynamic Catholic for the next 40 days, sign up at Best Lent Ever

 

Mothering a warrior

Nov9

“…But in this country

there is war.”  Lorna Dee Cervantes, from Poem For The Young White Man Who Asked Me How I, An Intelligent, Well-Read Person Could Believe In The War Between The Races 

Within the hour, I will have to wake her.  Last night, her closing prayers were “Bless this mess. Fix it Jesus. Amen.”  My daughter asked, “Who won?” at 1 in the morning, and promptly rolled to her other side so that I could not answer her. Today, like so many other madres, I will have to answer to her and for her.

Mija, like so many little girls in this generation and those that came before her, her own mom included, idolizes Wonder Woman.  We are excited for the movie which premieres in June 2017.ew-ww-39

My daughter has Wonder Woman t-shirts, hats, headband, dolls, and books.  She identifies closely with this character, a woman who is brave, independent, and strong.

I am drawn to the character of Queen Hippolyta, Wonder Woman’s mother, and an amazing woman in her own right.

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In the first movie trailer which debuted this past summer, Hippolyta tells Diana, aka Wonder Woman, “You have been my greatest love.”  In the most recent trailer which debuted last week, Hippolyta calls out “Be careful, Diana” as her daughter embarks on a mission to go to war. Those two soundbites speak to what I’m feeling.  How will I keep the person I love most safe in this world?  How will I protect her?  How will I prepare her to do battle?

The events surrounding the election are no surprise to me.  I have seen the old ways of thinking and hating fester and spread; they never stop doing so.

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While I grieve the harsh truths the election reveals about many people in our nation, I accept reality.  One of the things I told my daughter last night was that now would be our time to fight for what is right. 14938157_1366372526736820_5038582823904846037_n

So our mission begins.

Party girl

Jul17
M turns 8 in two months but I’m already planning her party.  Actually, we started planning her party in April, a full five months in advance.  I have a list that breaks down guest list, location, and favors.  No, no soy one of those Pinterest moms.  My gluing skills are limited to dance and Carnaval costumes.  While I love to cook, this year we’ll be offering all-American burgers and chips.  Like every frazzled parent I know, I sigh and say I’m done with the big birthday parties every year.  Then the cycle starts anew. 
As a child, my parents always threw us huge parties. My dad’s entire soccer team and their families, my godparents and my brother’s godparents and their kids, and any relatives would come. There would be tons of Peruvian food, a giant sheet cake, a piñata for the kids, and dancing to salsa and merengue.  Because I was an introvert, I found all the people and activities overwhelming. But memories were made.  Like the time the big boys decided to tightrope walk around the fence in the backyard and were threatened by the mean next door neighbor  Or the time we realized we could Tarzan swing across the garage.  I especially like how happy my mom and dad always looked. And still look. Because you best believe mi mama isn’t letting a birthday go by without some sort of gathering. 
Celebrating my 44th. Notice the look on my mom’s face(she’s on my right). 
Unlike me, M doesn’t seem uncomfortable at her birthday parties. In fact, she says she loves the attention, the little diva. Ever the assertive leader, M has helped pick a theme for her celebration from the time she was 4.  They have been often been tied to a favorite TV show.  Lately they also incorporate her Halloween costume (yes, we are a family of planners.)
Yo Gabba Gabba  Dancey Dance Party
Princess Costume Party 
Wonder Woman party 
Wizard of Oz theme. Notice her tee. Her dance recital had the same theme. Why not stretch out a good theme? 
So while I may balk at the work and expense that goes into planning birthday parties, I do love the memories we’ve shared.  They are moments that remind us of what truly matters.  

M’s boho mama

May8
“…what she gave instead was her own DNA, her own boho mama-in-the-black-stockings self, and she trusted that this would be enough.” Lisa Jones, Bulletproof Diva

Five months ago, one of my dance sisters approached me via social media inbox. An outspoken woman, she prefaced her comments by saying she likes to say things directly to folks. What followed was a discussion about my relationship to M.  The conversation truly touched me. It not only made my day, a typical busy weekday at work (which has provided endless writing material, nuff said!), but it helped me reflect on my motherhood for weeks and even months.  How unlikely and yet so necessary that I had the opportunity to do so. 
Motherhood happens.  My choice to have M and the million choices I have made in raising her have sometimes been unconventional and non-traditional, but never irreverent or irresponsible. Because while parenting is intuitive and flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants spontaneous, it is also a huge undertaking. It is THE big deal. No amount of writing and talking about tiger moms or helicopter moms or free range moms or any combination of these can change the fact that motherhood and fatherhood matter.  Yes, I don’t often plan how situations will play out; I can’t.  My seven-year-old has been her own person for as long as she could speak and stand up on her own; basically I’ve been dealing with this independent-minded individual since she was 10 months old. Every day I am learning something new about her, about myself, and about the world through our relationship.  When I get a rare opportunity to really think, reflect, and plan for our relationship, I take it and revel in it. 

About a month and a half ago, one of my closest friends asked to interview me as part of her women’s studies project. She had decided to focus on the parenting choices of the children of immigrants. We enjoyed a deep discussion on motherhood.  I wasn’t discussing writing or dance or education and yet all these folded into the conversation.  That is how my experience as a mother has evolved.  M experiences the vast majority of my experiences with friends, culture, food, and the arts. What we miss from traditional play dates, I hope is more than made up for in making memories.  
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The battle against girl drama

Jan10
Hurt that’s not supposed to show
And tears that fall when no one knows
When you’re trying hard to be your best
Could you be a little less

Do you know what it feels like for a girl
Do you know what it feels like in this world
What it feels like for a girl

Strong inside but you don’t know it
Good little girls they never show it
When you open up your mouth to speak
Could you be a little weak …”What it feels like for a girl,” Madonna


During the early weeks of my pregnancy, I was convinced my baby was a boy. I immediately began referring to “him.” When I went for my ultrasound, I saw my baby’s face but not gender. My baby kicked and rolled quite actively.  While at work a few weeks later, I received the phone call revealing my child’s gender. She was a girl. I sat at on my desk and wept for several minutes. I wept with joy, fear, and sadness.  I would be parenting a girl.

I call them girl mommy woes. I know parenting is tough work and can sometimes be emotionally exhausting, whether you’re a mother or father, whether you’re raising daughters or sons. As a woman, I struggle with raising my daughter to face the challenges in dealing with other girls.

The infamous holiday talent show from _Mean Girls_ 
“Girl drama” is a problematic term for me. I know it’s real and yet I wish it wasn’t. Those struggles hurt M and they hurt me.  I find myself talking about other girls and women with vicious judgment and even rage. Rambo helps to balance out those moments. Though he is quick to communicate with teachers if he senses any pattern of bullying against M or other girls in her class, he also reminds me that M has the power to respond(or not) to these situations.  Me ha costado mucho trabajo, I have worked my tail off to calm down, breathe, and not let M see how angry these situations make me.

What my daughter is experiencing isn’t anything unique.  Almost all women have faced and continue to face gossip, exclusion, and verbal harassment. It’s especially difficult when your closest friends are involved. That’s what hurts M the most, when her “besties” opt to leave her out of activities or make mean comments to her. Like many women have and do, M has to contend with the mean girls. Earlier this week, M wore a pair of sky blue short shorts to practice. I had initially purchased them for her use at dance, specifically for the dance convention workshops she will soon attend. Rambo and I have complained about the hemline time and time again pero mija es muy hardheaded (wonder where she gets that?).  She has worn these shorts to practice at least three times with no negative feedback from either coach.  One of her friends proceeded to tell her in a rude voice, “You shouldn’t be wearing those because you’re going to get kidnapped.” The girl then added, “Everyone can see your butt.” Two other friends, including one of M’s closer friends, chimed in with “you look naked. You’re naked.”  M chose to move elsewhere in the practice formation and near three friends who seldom or never get involved in altercations.  M didn’t cry until she was safely in my car on the way to dance class. I reassured her that she had done the right thing and I offered other options such as informing the coach and letting the girls know she did not like their comments.  By the next day, those same girls were being nice and sought out M during meals and recess.  M shrugged it off by observing “they are not my bffs” and that “they need to stay in their lane.” She also pointed out that she knows which friends are truly best for her.  
Mean Girls antidote: The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 

M is 7.  What will be like when she is 11? 13? 16? I admire M’s strength, her confidence, even that hard-headedness that frustrates me at times.  I’m no longer in control of the people spends her time with and definitely not in control how she interacts with them. I know these issues will continue over the years; shoot, I still deal with this kind of nonsense at work (grown women upset over Halloween costumes!) 

50s gals; apparently this group costume theme caused a negative reaction

I will continue to provide M with opportunities to be part of positive communities such as her dance studio, with SambaFunk, and with our extended family of lifelong friends.  

Dance sister silliness 

Rambo and I will offer advice on how to be proactive when dealing with interpersonal challenges. I will continue to check myself, to not let my anger and resentment over my own girl drama scars hurt my daughter unnecessarily.