Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from September, 2018

I had a dream...

Several weeks ago I awoke from a very vivid dream, which isn't abnormal for me, completely exhausted by the realistic nature of my dreamt turmoil. I left Luca in some sort of nursery while attending a friend's big event. Because I was unavoidably detained longer than the nursery hours, I assumed my other friends would retrieve my sweet baby and bring him back to me. To my dismay, no one had little Luca. As I inquired to his whereabouts, I learned he was transferred all over other cities to different nurseries. In a panic, I began to follow his trail. I rode subways, buses, and ran through streets eagerly trying not to fall apart, but every time I had a glimpse of hope, it was shattered. Like many dreams the details are foggy and seemingly ridiculous, but I can say that there were dropped calls, language barriers, and every other formidable obstacle keeping me from my son. Panic set into my bones. I was at an utter loss. The trail ended, and I was sobbing hysterically. Then, as

ICU

Many people have stories full of hospital visits, either patient, visitor, or both. I consider myself a fortunate novice when it pertains to the medical life, but with all for of my kids having started their lives in intensive care units, I see the  insights stacking up.   Life is so much like an ICU.  Moments of quiet solitude. Sweet sounds of breathing with the rhythmic beats of machines as white noise.  Then beeps and bumps when meds end. Interruptions from nurses, techs and docs. Simple annoyances of daily life that we don’t plan for but should expect.  And then massive unexpected chaos.  Things we could have never seen coming. Turns for the worse. We assume those turns are the major priority. Our individual or family problem should be the focus for the whole hospital -that all should run to our bedside when one of our own has loud cries or louder alarms. We want help immediately; we want answers now.  When all the while their is imminent danger next door. Someone is kno

Brainwashing

There is a specificity that stems from one's parents. When naivete is at its greatest, maternal and paternal influence and instruction shape the initial path children follow. Not every child "rebels" in adolescence, but I believe (with my humble experience and degrees) that every adolescent questions their authority and previously accepted truths at some point along their path. At it's worst, parents and educators have the capacity to brainwash  their young, which means they, "make them adopt radically different beliefs with systematic or forced pressure." This implies conditioning with persuasion and/or propaganda. As the warm weather begins to come to a close, my outward excitement seems to flood through my children simultaneously. They  shout "fall" whenever they see a tree with slightly turned leaves. Does this mean I have brainwashed them? Well if Halloween candy, pumpkin bread, nature hunts, and more time outside equates to propaganda, then

Handling it.

I'm really not certain why so many people comment on the number of children we have. It's literally a  comedy or errors, like I have a sign on my forehead that requests commentary. Please say that I have my hands full as many times as you see me today and you'll win a prize.  There are plenty of people with multiple young children! There are even more people that have more children than me! When I asked some fellow moms their thoughts, it was suggested that these people want to compliment me or inquire about my thoughts on parenting in some way. Then why do so many women exclaim, "We are only given what we can handle, and I couldn't handle that many kids," or "I already have two crazy ones, I couldn't have a third and risk it being as crazy." An elderly woman saw me at the grocery store the other day and said, "Wow, are those all yours?" After acknowledging my children, she said, "well, it will be nice for you when they are al