Eduarda Guerrero

Nope, I haven't become my mother.  I've become my grandmother instead.

Eduarda Guerrero used to sit in front of the T.V., tune into some show she hated and would have arguments with it.  She would criticize jeans' models to their face and would get completely enraged at the lack of decency invading homes everywhere through that little black and white TV screen.

Maybe I don't have loud arguments with an inanimate object or people who can't hear me, and I certainly don't wait for a traffic light to turn red on me to bolt across the street and curse the drivers, but I do tune in to lame shows so I can criticize them.  Love to hate them.  In that sense, I love Britney Spears, and Christina Aguilera too...

I also think of running away sometimes and not tell anyone and show up at someone's house with a wild-eyed look saying "I ran away, don't tell anyone".  My aunt would call in a panic looking for my grandmother...  and how much would I love to have the guts to say "Go take a shit in the woods, you old goat!" to my husband just because he changed the channel.

Ah...  the wonderful things we learn from our elders about aging besides being old!  I was so young that it was all taken with humor, so as far as I knew my grandmother was the greatest comedienne of all time.  Unfortunately, I don't think she had any idea how wonderfully funny and colorful she was.  From keeping gobs of money within her sleeves, rolled up in hankerchiefs, to giving us the equivalent of $100 for candy and $1 for a new dress, she may not have been the sweet grandma one would imagine, but in my eyes she was the best.

Buenas noches, Abue.

Unbelievable

Never did I think I would tune in to watch "Showbiz Moms and Dads".  I even told myself not to waste my time. 

I'm now half through the second show I've ever seen and it's just unbelievable.  I do realize that some of these kids (the older ones especially) really do want to be in that business, but I can't help to think (as most people I'm sure) that when it comes to the younger ones (ok, the little blonde beauty queen) there is something wrong with the picture.

I remember always wanting to be a ballerina.  I wanted to be my oldest sister, who was very succesful at it and couldn't think of a better way to make your life as someone who could express themselves with their entire being to music.  Until not that many years ago I would get extremely emotional if I watched any sort of ballet production -- thinking about what could have been.  I did take classes for a brief time, and was not good at it, but I still wished I had started younger and kept at it longer.  I remember removing my pointe shoes after class and my toes would be bleeding from the blisters... but I knew I wanted to keep dancing. 

A crazy phenomenon:  During ballet class I didn't feel pain while on my toes yet coming back down and walking to the back of the line felt like I had razor blades in my shoes.

Conclusion:  as long as my children develop a passion for something (be it sports, art or whatever) I will support and help them, but I pray God will keep me from pushing them into something under the false pretense that it is good for them and/or their character. 

If anyone out there ever hears my name mentioned on "Showbiz Moms & Dads" or any reality show, please hunt me down and have me committed. 

Thanks in advance,

G

Happy smother's day

I just realized that every time I write on my journal the TV is playing in the background...  There are just so many things I could never get done if it wasn't for the television, as wrong as that sounds, but why pretend that I don't rely on it to keep the kids busy? 

Today was quite possibly the BEST mother's day I've ever had.  It was just the kids and I (dad's traveling) and nothing huge happened, but from the moment they came running out with their little gifts and forward was one of the best times of smotherhood.  Their faces were lit up as if they had swallowed stars, the excitement and anticipation at my reaction was too great for them and I thought they would explode.  With Clara's blessing I opened her brother's gift first.  It was a photo frame he made in school with a picture of him wearing a man's suit, tie and hat and that goofy grin of his when he is trying to be cute.  On the back it said:  "I love my mommy because:  I love her so much".  Why explain it, good enough for me!

Clara then gave me what she had made and it was a little flower pot with crafted flowers in it and a beautiful card with a poem.  The three of us took turns hugging, then Bala yelled "Group hug!!!" and the three of us hugged and laughed and kissed and I thanked God I was alive.

The three of us are always together, we talk all day, we play, I try to ignore them, they don't let me, we get in fights and in general we smother each other a lot. 

Tonight before they go to sleep I plan on smothering them yet again with millions of kisses.  Because it's mother's day and I get to do what I want and what I want is for it to be SMOTHER'S DAY. 

Goodnight.

Journal of the Weak

Valium is *such* a wonderful thing...  When the going gets tough, the tough take Valium...  many of them...

I just had to go to my happy place today, as I realized that my home is not it.  I am alone again, with my kids and my wonderful lesbian friend Amy, who makes me realize I'm not alone, after all.

Just a married single mom.

Joshua Judges Ruth

First of all, thank you to Lyle Lovett for unknowingly letting me borrow the title of one of his albums for this here beloved journal of mine...

Ok, so here it goes:  I will summarize an argument I've had many times:

Other person:  "Being gay is wrong"

Me: "What about 'though shall not judge'?"

And then, O.P.:  "Oh, I'm not judging, I'm only stating what the Bible says" 

Yes.  Ok.  So isn't that what Judges do?  Don't they tell us what the written law is??

Just a thought...

Not the Sopranos

I suppose I have been purposely avoiding talking about my marriage for a reason:  Everything is going fantastically well, but I am in disbelief.  So at facing the risk of writing something that:  a) is a facade; b) realize I've become one of those women who fail miserably to recognize the fairytale is anything but; c)  I will regret reading later...  I've avoided the issue completely.

The changes in him have been unbelievable.  I feel really loved and all that, but most importantly I see a change in him, in his spirit.  He's much more relaxed, way more emotional, more conversational, more considerate and attentive, just miraculous changes to say the least!

The most beautiful part is watching this man I've loved for so long come up to the surface.  So I don't have to dig and dig to find him anymore...  I want to spend more time with him and have recently turned down great offers for entertainment because I wanted to stay with him and the kids...  I finally feel that we are a family.

Tomorrow I'll wake up and it will all be different I'm sure...  But that's how it goes.

I ate-a Cicad-a

 I feel a migraine coming on...  UGH!

Wow, I got back to Indy at just the right time.  Spring has definitely started and all kinds of critters are coming out of the woodwork. 

Most importantly (and thanks to AOL) I found out that this wonderful state of Indiana is one of the hosts of nature's 17 year ritual of the Invasion of the Cicadas.  If anyone has ever seen the Land Before Time kids' movies, it's just like the episode where those bugs invade everything...  Except that it lasts about a month.

Seemingly (and this time thanks to National Geographic), these bugs go underground for 17 YEARS and then come out sometime in May, when they do something else and then die.  This year there will be more cicadas than ever, BILLIONS of them and they will be crawling up everything and making noise...  I'm just so thrilled about this.

My 5-year old FREAKS about the smallest of bugs on her...  I really don't know how I'm going to help her through this, except I did come up with two ways, and here they are:

1)  Start telling my daughter all about cicadas.  I can go out, dig some up and put them in a glass container so we can be part of their cycle.  I can make a point of doing cicada crafts, look for the first few that come up and really help her understand the whole thing so she's not afraid, OR

2)  I can  stay indoors the whole time, express my disgust at the cicadas crawling all over everything, let her freak out and use the cicadas to help me convince her that moving to L.A. in June is the best thing since there are no bugs in L.A.

Now that should make her forget all about her friends.  Of course, when she grows up she'll never want to return to Indiana, but I guess that's why we have therapy.

I've heard some people eat these buggers, and if I had any balls or had gone completely insane I would, just so I could say the very catchy "I ate-a Cicada", but on the other hand it's just not worth it.