Country Rican

On love, gifts, and Valentine's day...

2012-02-05T13:50:00.001-05:00

Valentine's Day is fast approaching and as it happens every year, Michael and I get into an argument about it. He wants to be a sort of Atheist Jehova's witness. He wants to not believe in God and renounce gift giving as part of his non religion. I, on the other hand, am a sucker for gifts and gift giving. I am bitter about being born on Christmas Eve and the absence of birthday parties in school and all that jazz. I really enjoy giving gifts. You will never, ever, get a pair of socks from me as a gift. Never! Gifts are tokens of appreciation, should be fun, and special. Occasionally I am open to practical gifts, sometimes the wants and the needs can match up. For example, Michael once gave me an air purifier for Christmas, or my birthday (they get confused at times). It was the year I spent Christmas in Puerto Rico without him. He picked me up from the airport and when we got to my place there were several gifts on the couch for me. I was thrilled. One of them was the air purifier. Practical, but loving, since I had been diagnosed with asthma and refused to give up my pet cat Boo Boo (may be rest in peace). I have fought long and hard against Michael on this birthday/Christmas gift business, and I believe he has given up the fight.

Valentine's day is a different story. Michael is in the camp that believes that this is a made up Hallmark holiday. I point out this is not true, it actually has a long history behind it:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valentine's_Day

...if you are interested. However, he hates buying gifts and fights it - every year.

This is my position on gift giving: it need not be expensive, it need not be wrapped in a bow, it should not be viewed as a chore. If that is how you see it, then you need to change your outlook on life because you are being a "glass half empty" kind of person. I choose to be a "glass half full" kind of person and here is why. I am very lucky. I have wonderful parents who gave me everything I needed to succeed in life: brains, good looks, health, love, work ethic...the list goes on and on. I have the best brothers a girl can have. I have four gorgeous nieces and a handsome nephew. I have the best in-laws a girl can have, great friends, a fabulous husband and the most wonderful daughter on the planet. Giving them something to show I love them can never be a chore. Never. Does it suck that the gifts are attached to a calendar that I disagree with. Yes! If I had it my way Christmas would be in October - which is probably when Jesus was born anyway, and my birthday would stand alone. But that is life. If it weren't for the calendar, would we really stop and get a gift or a card just because for these people who enrich our lives? Probably not. I remember one card I got from my friend Jecksan that showed a hand with flowers in it, and inside it said "just because I was thinking of you" or something to that effect. It was on my bulletin board for years, that's how rare such cards are. I am saying, we should thank the unilateral calendar for reminding us to do something for those we love.

We don't have to go all crazy and spend all this money and go over the top. There are many ways to show appreciation. No Michael, saying "every day with you is gift enough" will not work every time.

For my women friends out there, here is an idea that many men had said was a great one. I made Michael a gift book once. Yep. About two years into dating him I made him a notebook with all my likes and dislikes. I wrote down sizes, colors, what gifts were unacceptable (i.e. a blender for Valentines day - unless he expressly heard me say I wanted one). It even had pictures from magazines. Oh yeah! He got me a red microwave oven once, because I didn't have one and told him I wouldn't get one until I found a red one. That is the kind of gift that warms your heart. Something I really wanted, yet practical. Every guy we have told the story of the gift book has said "I wish my girlfriend/wife would make me one of those.) So there you go ladies... get working on one.

Anyway, some people really hate Valentine's Day. Even when I was single I never really hated it. I just love holidays, and I love love, so why not love the love holiday? One year, I remember my brothers got me a card and some chocolates, out of nowhere. Didn't I tell you I had the best brothers? I know, I know, I'm cheesy, but I don't care.

Last year I was very pregnant for Valentine's day. Michael, knowing how sensitive I am about gifts and how extra sensitive pregnancy made me, got me a great gift I will cherish forever. He got me a necklace with a pendant of a mother holding a baby. Beautiful, thoughtful, and special. Sofia was born 9 days later. He did a great job, even if he was thinking "Damn Hallmark holiday" as he was buying it.

For the Linda Krystal's of the world, I found a good link about Valentine's Day. You can choose to see it this way of you want, just don't tell me it was made up by Hallmark!

http://www.npr.org/2011/02/14/133693152/the-dark-origins-of-valentines-day

So go ahead and do something special for someone you love. Slaughter a goat if you want to, but it is a day for love, so show someone you love them...why not!?

New place...

2011-12-07T13:38:00.001-05:00

Main entrance

Last week Michael and I purchased an apartment in Puerto Rico. For those of you who were at our wedding, it is about 5 minutes from where the reception was held, right at the entrance of the small township that is Boquerón in Cabo Rojo (my home town). For those of you who are not familiar with it, if Puerto Rico were the United States, Cabo Rojo would geographically be where California is. It it the southern most, western most town in the island and it has the most beautiful beaches. We claim to be "the tourism capital" of Puerto Rico, but this is an insider's title, since most people stay in San Juan. Cabo Rojo is literally and figuratively as far away from San Juan as a you can get in Puerto Rico.

When I lived in Cabo Rojo it was a one stop light town, had no fast food restaurants, no American chain stores, nothing. It now has about every fast food you can think of, and over 50,000 people live there. However, it still does not have any high rise hotels. Only small, mostly locally owned places. You do not see a Holiday Inn in Cabo Rojo, or a Hilton, although they are several of those in Puerto Rico. It is truly striking when you drive down route 100 and see the coast with the gorgeous blue sky and the blue green water, that to this day there is no high rise to block that view.

I can go on and on when I talk about my town and I usually do, but this is about the purchasing of what is the first property Michael and I have purchased together with the intent of it being a second home. Michael and I each purchased a property when we were dating. He has a house in Elberton which he lived in for a couple of years and now rents. I purchased a condo in Athens where I lived for a couple of years that I now rent. We actually live in a mobile home that belongs to my in laws and that is a 3 minute walk to the Greenhouses we now own and run.

Michael made his first trip to Puerto Rico with me in the summer of 2005. Since then he has been talking about purchasing something down there, constantly in awe of how undeveloped it appears to be, unexploited. Every year we go, every year he talks about it. This past October we went and we actually started looking and were torn for a couple of days between two properties we wanted. One near El Combate Beach which had a spectacular view, and the one we ended up buying in Boqueron, which has no real view to speak of but is in such a great area, so close to everything, and in such a nice development that we decided the convenience was worth more than a view. Since in reality, views are at every turn down there, we figured we didn't need it every morning outside our window.

Balcony view left

Balcony view center

Balcony view right

The development includes houses, apartments and penthouses. Since it is our first property down there (and we are not rich) we went with an apartment. Above are the views from our balcony. The place is still growing. They have sold two full buildings of apartments and 14 houses. They are currently building 14 more houses, and selling off the next building while the work on yet another. There is a nice clubhouse, a pool, and they are working on a beach volleyball court, basketball court, etc. The property is directly behind a wild life refuge that leads to a public beach. Trust me when I say it is very picturesque: the township, the beach, everything. I hope to later on be able to include on my blog more pictures of places in the area that are worth seeing, all within a short drive.

We optioned for an apartment, and then proceeded to do all the nightmarish paperwork from Georgia. Apparently it is harder to get a mortgage these days, and Puerto Ricans tend to be ridiculous about bureaucracy so I was in hell. I will bet money that the paperwork for both of our previous properties together was less than for this one place.

This is the building where our apartment is, taken from the pool.

I flew down there with Sofia. Michael stayed because of the poinsettia season frenzy. I flew alone with Sofia for the first time, while she was getting over hand, foot and mouth disease (not a big deal, but not fun). Apparently she was getting over it as I was catching it. So as I signed the enormous amount of paperwork I developed a headache I blamed on the lawyers, while it turns out the virus was doing it's thing. I had a fever for two days, and the worse throat ache I have had since I had chicken pox at the age of 23. It was pretty intense, and I had to go shopping...and it is December! Fortunately, I was in my mom's house and she took care of Sofia and made me chicken soup.

It sounds like fun: "I'm going to Puerto Rico for a week to buy an apartment and furnish it" but it just was hard work. Between the Christmas shopping crowds, and the fever, and the time limitation, it was a little insane. I left knowing I had purchased almost everything, yet most of it would be delivered later and my parents and my brother will have to take care of getting it all settled. My brother has agreed to manage it for me for the most part which is great, but I don't get to see it finished for some time. Sigh. Delayed gratification I guess...

The grounds are still being worked on, but the landscaping is very nice.

For right now there are no pics I want to share of the apartment itself, because it is not furnished but I will once it is. It has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a laundry room, and a nice size living/dining/kitchen area. It also has a balcony, and it is on a second floor. The rooms are air conditioned which comes in handy on July nights, but because it is located close to the beach and by a valley, it is very breezy and, at least in October and in December when I was there, there was hardly a need for a fan much less air conditioning. From the apartment you can walk to the bakery, the town, several restaurants, bars, and of course the beach - although the beach is a longer walk. I say this because we intend to rent it, so spread the word.

Club house entrance

Further in...

Pool table

Two bedrooms will have full size beds in them, and the third will have a bunk bed which is full size on the bottom and twin on top. The place will be fully furnished, including a fully functional kitchen which is very pretty.

I guess that is all I have to say about the new place... other than I will send the vrbo listing when it is ready. I leave you with some pool views.

A time for reasoned debate

2011-11-20T11:34:00.001-05:00

I am a political junkie. I am. I love it. I know people who would rather tear their own nails out than watch a political debate, but I simply enjoy them. I have a bachelor’s degree in Political Science. That means I have read, and read, and read some more about the subject. It was always fun to me. I have a Master’s degree in Spanish, in literature. You can guess what books I gravitated to…politics, history, sociology, current events.

Most of the people who read this know me, so none of this comes as a surprise to them. But I live in small town where I have only lived for two years, so I am still making friends, getting to know folks. If this is the first time you read The Country Rican, I am a lefty, a registered democrat, a yellow dog, a liberal, a bleeding heart, a left wing nut job (as Michael used to refer to me when we first started dating). I think that one is my favorite: left wing nut job. I wear the label with pride. As I told my now mother in law when the subject first came up: “You can pick an issue, any issue, and I am probably on the left of it.”

I voted for Hillary Clinton in the democratic primary in 2008. I LOVE her. I think she is the picture of what a leader should be: smart, articulate, strong. I thought then, and I still think now that she would have made a better president than Barrack Obama. I also think she is doing an outstanding job as secretary of state. I say all of this to let people know that I am not one of those people who drank the Obama Kool Aid as they say. I mean, I like him, always have. But I thought he was a little green to be president. I prefer my leaders to be a little more experienced. However, majority rule and all that. I voted for Obama in the general because there is no way I could bring myself to vote for John McCain. That is, the John McCain of 2008. I was a fan of the one who lost to George W. Bush in the 2000 primary. Another case of a party picking the lesser candidate, in my opinion. I couldn’t figure out then why the GOP would pick W over an honest to God war hero with principles. It turns out it was the start of “We rather have the shinier candidate” phase of politics, as well as the beginning of the end of McCain’s soul. When he only had one principle left – against torture – he was the party’s nominee and then he picks Sarah Palin to run with him. He plucked her out of obscurity and we are stuck with her now. I will never forgive him for that.

But I digress. As of today, and we are almost a year away from the elections, I plan on voting for Obama again. He will again be the lesser of two evils, and frankly I think he gets a bad wrap. I think he has certainly disappointed most of us. I think if you believed he was going to save us all and that he was better than any other politician, then you are really, really disappointed. Years ago my big brother told me that anyone who made it to be President had to be a little bit evil, and very powerful to make it up there. Since then, I have always looked at them with the eye of a skeptic. He was not my first choice, so I am not that crushed with his performance. He has performed as I would have expected him to. He had no executive experience, and it has shown. He has been more of a legislator, a mistake, but it’s what he knew. He talks too much like a professor they say. Gee, maybe it’s because that is what he was. I just see nothing shocking here. The biggest mistake the Republicans have made is to become the party of no. They have obstructed everything he tries to do. They have given him a bad guy to blame. Be prepared for the campaign of “If they had let me do something, I would have done it.” Much like the US did with Cuba – and is still doing today – with the intention of stopping something all they accomplish is to give them someone to point to as the culpable party. The Castros will always have the US boogie man to blame for their failures, and no one can positively say they are not right. The what if scenario will always be there, and therefore it is always speculation. We are on our way to doing it to Iran too, by the way. It is a strategy that does not work.

What bothers me is that the republicans just stop anything from being done, and don’t get anything done themselves. If they truly believe the plans the democrats are proposing won’t work, let them do it, then say I told you so. Obstructing the plan just gives Obama the power to say “it’s your fault” and when you argue you KNOW it won’t work, you are speculating. Sigh. Everyone should be upset that we pay these people and they can't even vote on the bills.

The republican field for president has been a freak show. They are doing a disservice to themselves with all of these debates. The more they debate, the weaker the field seems. It is truly sad. I mean, don’t get me wrong, as a political junkie from the left I enjoy the freak show. As an intelligent observer of politics though, it makes me sad. I want an intelligent debate. Anyone watch “The West Wing”? In their final season they had the best political debate you will ever see between Jimmy Smits and Alan Alda. It was amazing because it was fiction, choreographed and scripted. But I wish we had two strong candidates arguing the issues on their merits. I crave it!

If anyone wants to debate the issues I always welcome a good debate. But don’t come at me with “Obama’s socialist policies are hurting the country” like Perry says. Some of us have studied socialism. I mean, really studied through the writings and let me tell you there is nothing socialist about this President. Don’t tell me the President is anti-American, as I see on facebook all the time. Come on! Come at me with an intelligent argument. I see them from time to time. About how a health care mandate is unconstitutional. That is a fair point. Or how the use of predator drones bothers you. Or what are we doing in Afghanistan. There is plenty to discuss, intelligently, without falling to the mindless points you hear on talk radio.

I am also sick of all the demonizing. I understand that in some cases people are diametrically opposed to one another, but does it have to get so personal? I can say a lot of things about the people running for president. In fact, I toyed with the idea of one by one listing their shortcomings. But really, I don’t feel like I need to do that, for they are doing it for themselves. What I will say is on two of the candidates, and it is on their media coverage which I find fascinating.

The first is Jon Huntsman, who is always mentioned as a moderate republican. There is nothing moderate about this man. He is very conservative, but he is covered as a moderate because he was ambassador to China under Obama. Really? Did he get Obama socialist juice on him, and now he is moderate? The only thing moderate about him is his personality. He is calm, collected, and kind of soft spoken. I guess in this republican field that is enough to be moderate. His position on abortion (to pick one issue) is that life begins at conception, and there should be exceptions made for the life of the mother and other extreme cases. Settle down Mr. Huntsman! You might be considered a democrat in four more years…

The other is Ron Paul, who as Jon Stewart so brilliantly put it, has become the 13^th floor in a hotel. It is like he doesn’t exist. He is a top tier candidate by the definition of what a top tier should be, top 4 in a field of 7. Michelle Bachmann won the Iowa straw poll and was the front runner. He was a close second. Right now for the Iowa caucuses he is running a strong second to Herman Cain, but is still dismissed. People who support him are ten times more passionate than anyone supporting Romney or any of the other candidates, yet he is constantly viewed as unelectable. One of our colleagues at work is a conspiracy theory guy and he says it is because Paul wants to return to the Gold standard. The Fed is too powerful and both the left and the right shun Paul for this reason. I don’t buy into this, but it does make me pause. I wouldn't vote for the guy because , again, I’m a left wing nut. But I do respect anyone who can articulate his position clearly, especially when you are consistent about it. And I admire anyone who has the balls Ron Paul has. I mean, to say to a room full of republicans that you don’t care if

Iran

gets the bomb?! Amazing! I hope he gets far, even if he has a “Lord of the Rings” kind of appearance.

My husband Michael is a libertarian and a registered Republican. We have discussed this issue of demonizing your opponents many times. We have reached the conclusion that only small people need to make their opponent smaller in order to make themselves feel big. We also notice that it is harder to demonize someone once you know them. The problem is that people in this country, in particular in my county, tend to insulate themselves from the world. They surround themselves with people who look and think like them. Everyone goes to church – protestant, of course. Everyone goes to the football games. Everyone knows each other. Everyone watches Fox news. So they are constantly reinforcing their world view, and forget there are other world views out there. People need to break out of their comfort zone more, meet someone with a different point of view, read a book they recommend, etc.

Michael says:” The person you will be five years from now depends on the people you meet and the books you read.” Brilliant. He says he copied it from somewhere, but he can’t remember who. Well my husband is the kind of man that goes out of his way to meet interesting people, read interesting books, and remember quotes like this. The speech writer in “The West Wing” once said good writers borrow from others, great writers steal outright. I’m stealing it outright…

RIP Catalina... you will be missed.

2011-10-12T21:18:00.000-04:00

I didn't have a lot of material things growing up. We were poor. Not dirt poor. It's not like we ever went hungry or anything. But we didn't have a lot of luxuries in our humble household. Mom and dad both worked back breaking jobs. My brothers and I had some chores around the house, but especially me and my brother who is just a year older than I, our main job was to study. We were always in advanced classes and even though we went to public school, we made it in, and graduated, from the best school in our area. We grew up hearing about the "real" hardships our parents faced in their youth. A constant reminder of how good we had it.

I have been fortunate in my life and, as I'm sure my parents planned all along, have a better life than they did when it comes to luxuries in life. It is easy when you grow up poor to rationalize getting something you never thought you could. When it came to hiring a cleaning lady though, I resisted. It was such a taboo in my culture. It seemed so "classist" to me. That's something rich people do. I'm not rich.

I was never much for house cleaning mind you. As a teenager I would do anything I could to get out of cleaning the pots and pans when I did the dishes. My mom constantly had to fight with me because the kitchen was my main chore and I was always doing a half-assed job. As an adult I realize later on that I frequently think I cleaned something well, only to have it pointed out that it is still dirty in some way. Partly a curse of being blind, partly because I just don't like doing it. When I was diagnosed with asthma, and a pulmonologist told me the dust mites were killing me, I heard the words I always wanted to hear: "If you can afford to, get someone to clean your house for you." When I told my mother she just laughed and said she always knew this day would come.

And so I had a few people clean for me when I could afford it. It was a great help, but it was always a little weird. Finally my good friend Page met this woman while she was teaching English as a second language as a volunteer at Catholic Services. The lady told her she cleaned houses, and if she knew anyone who needed help to give them her number. She was apologetic about still trying to learn the language, but her daughter was fluent and could translate for those who needed it. Page said "actually I do know someone and she doesn't need a translator." This is how Catalina Behera came into my life.

She came to see me with her daughter (just in case me Spanish was not as good as Page told her) and we discussed how the process would work. It was odd for me interviewing a cleaning lady, but I really did need the help. I had gotten to a point that I took my allergy pills, wore a face mask to dust and still got sick with asthma the night after I cleaned everytime. At the time I lived in a rented little duplex by myself with my cat Boo Boo (RIP). Catalina was a god send. I could only afford her once every three weeks, and so she came regularly and did stuff that seemed beyond what a cleaning lady would do. Like, say, refold everything in my linen closet. She went out of her way to be extra special.

She moved with me when I bought my first place. Cleaned out every place when I moved out, the new place before I moved in, came over on a different day if I asked her to so my house would be extra clean for company. I started recommending her to people, and got her quite a few extra jobs. Every one said the same thing "this woman is better than any cleaning lady I ever had."

But she was more than that to me. She was cleaning my condo before I moved in and I was still painting. I was telling her about all the upgrades I wanted to make to my very old kitchen. She looked at me and said: "Don't focus on what you don't have, just focus on all that you do. Look at all that you have. You are 33 and own this place all by yourself." I realized then that she was right, that she was wise, and that she was more than a cleaning lady. I mean, she really took care of me like a mom would, except she was only ten years older than me.

After I married and moved, I decided to let Michael keep his cleaning lady because my Catalina was 45 minute drive away, not knowing that she would drive that and more because she needed the work and the money. As soon as I could replace that other lady (who could not hold a candle to Catalina) I got her back. I gave her as much work as I could. Hired her for the greenhouse offices, referring her to my mother in law and aunt. I kept trying to keep her happy, because she was so good to me. Michael showered her with plants and produce. For over 5 years I have been saying "I don't know what I would do without my Catalina."

Last night Catalina's daughter called to tell me she passed away that morning. She said her dad went to wake her and she just didn't wake up. She was 48 years old.

Whenever I stop to think about it I cry. She was a wonderful woman. Honest, hardworking, and sweet. She loved my Sofia, and I know she loved me as I loved her. She was a helping hand, a friend, and a source of inspiration for years. I don't know what she died from, I hope it was as peaceful as it sounded. Wherever she is I hope she knows that I will miss her terribly, and mourn her deeply.

Descansa en paz amiga fiel.

Motherhood...six months in

2011-08-27T22:19:00.000-04:00

Wow! I just realized my last blog post was 4 months ago, and it was about Sofia. LOL Well this one is kind of about her too...sorry folks. I promise I have other things to write about, but with Baby Girl turning six months this week it seemed like the right time to write about my motherhood experience. I will also add that it is Saturday night, past 9 pm and I just now have the time to sit and write. Michael is at a bachelor party/weekend, Sofia finally went down at 8:30 or so (half an hour past her bedtime), and I finally had a shower. Nothing on TV but Irene... so back to the computer.

I have started to write stuff more than once on other subjects. I intend to get back to them and post them eventually. It is just hard to find the time. I am now back at work full time. Well, I am usually there by 9 am, and leave somewhere between 5 and 6. Sofia is with us almost every day, and is quite used to her home away from home. I am actually in the process of transforming my office into her office, since our business model is shifting and we no longer have an office person at the front. I spent most of Friday orchestrating musical desks with the help of some muscle. Since she is now almost crawling, she will need more space to move around. The biggest blessing for me in running our own business is the freedom to rearrange schedules and offices, and the ability to bring her with me every day. Not having to worry about child care is so comforting to me, it is worth every sacrifice I might have made to move to the country.

Running a business is a challenge in itself. Michael and I had a very good first year in the business, and we have recently decided to shift the business model somewhat. I will not bore you with the details, suffice it to say that with the changes comes a little more freedom, but also the risk and fear of the unknown. However, Michael and I are so blessed. We just have so much and feel so lucky to be in our quiet country life. His parents are next door and have been so much help. The people who work with us all are nuts about Sofia and are patient and helpful with the baby fussing or delaying something for them. Of course she is the boss' daughter, so there is not much of a choice. Michael is gaga over his little girl and everybody knows it.

Michael and I are extremely comfortable in our skin as parents now. After half a year, we still think the hardest time was that first month, and we had my mom there to help. I still cannot conceive of how hard that month would have been without her. We were talking the other day and I told him if our parents feel about us the way we feel about Sofia we are ungrateful bastards for all we have put our parents through. I guess that is the human condition, we must become parents to understand it. It is such a blessing to have her in our lives, there are no words to describe it.

I will try to explain it for those of you who do not have children and are still wrestling with this choice. Michael and I were never the type of people who always knew we wanted kids. We always thought we "might" have them, if the "right" person and the "right" time came about. I understand the hesitation people feel about parenthood, it is the ultimate life altering decision. And I do believe it is a decision and a choice that should be made, together as partners, because it will affect you both. Unless you are a single parent, in which case let me take the time to bow down in awe to you and all of those like you. Raising a kid is A LOT of work, and I cannot imagine doing it alone. Much respect to all you single parents out there!

Being pregnant was a roller coaster. It was hard at times, it was painful and awful at times, and it was fantastic and powerful at others. I am not a religious woman, as I truly believe religion divides us more than it unites us. But I will say that I have never in my life felt closer to God (or the Goddess) as when I was pregnant. What a beautiful gift the universe gave me to be able to conceive a child! Now, being pregnant was a picnic compared to caring for the kid. For one thing it is a finite experience. The only thing that makes it harder is the fact that you have to do it alone. Yes, if you are lucky(and smart) you have a good partner to help you. But really this is a solo performance and the hardest thing for me was feeling at times lonely with the realization that every woman is different and every pregnancy is different and so no one in the world really can understand what you are feeling. Overwhelming!

Child rearing however is a team sport, and I have a great team! Most of the child care falls on me, but I do have a lot of help. First and foremost Michael is an excellent daddy and he adores our little girl. Seeing them together is one of the biggest joys of my life.

My in laws have been fantastic, ready and willing to take her and help out in any way. When Sofia turned 5 months they kept her for the day while Michael and I went on a "date" and saw Harry Potter, and had some childless fun. The other night we went to town under the influence of the infamous Alton Mercer and we actually left baby girl for the night with Grand momma and Grand daddy. Walking away from her that evening - a step I realize I had to make sooner or later - was so hard to do I actually cried. I later found out most mothers do. In a couple of weeks we are going out of state for a wedding and Sofia will stay with her grandparents for the weekend. I still don't know how I will let her go. But she is after all six months old, and I have to get used to letting her go at times. I realize that in absence of her parents, the second best choice is the grandparents and I am fortunate that Sofia has all four of them on this earth. Still the thought of being without her for three days tears me up inside.

After all the sleepless nights, the back problems, the poop, the pee, the puke, the drool, the bites (she has two teeth), the scratching (which she really likes for some reason) and the general wear and tear my body is still overcoming as a 37 year old first time mother... I am actually considering doing it again. As Michael told his best friend upon Sofia's birth: "Pick a cliche. It is all true. Life will never be he same. It changes you forever. She is the best thing in my life... all of it true." I still have not heard a better explanation.

I will stop before I get so mushy I make myself cry and some of you puke. I will not bore you any more with my motherhood stories. Most of you have already made up your mind on this subject, some of you have your own kids and know what I mean. If you want to see a dozen cute videos of Sofia look me up on You Tube (ricangoddez1). I want to challenge whoever got to ricangoddez before me to a duel...

I will leave you with these words of wisdom given to me while pregnant by my crack head cousin (proof that even a broken clock is right twice a day): "You are about to discover what true love really is. Everything else is shit."

I promise I will blog about non baby stuff soon.

Life with Sofia...after 2 months.

2011-04-30T14:15:00.000-04:00

My friends, my beautiful daughter is now over two months old. It is insane how time flies when you have a kid. Which is to say when you are sleep deprived and unbelievable tired. Don't get me wrong, having her is worth being exhausted. As Michael told his friend Gus: "Pick a cliche, they are all true." I'm just trying to explain why blogging has not been a priority for me. This blog entry will serve as an update for family and friends; so be warned, it might get mushy.

For the first month after Sofia Carolina was born, my mommy was here to help, which allowed me to enjoy being a mommy without too much stress. The only real stress came when she had her colic episodes. I don't know if any of you have taken care of a colicky baby. It is the most stressful thing I have experienced in my life. Maybe it's because I'm a new mommy,but your child crying and screaming uncontrollably is a bit much. Google videos of it if you haven't. If not, here is a video sample:

That was less than a minute. Now picture this going on for hours. My low point was a Saturday afternoon that Michael was in Atlanta and Sofia did this on and off for 5 hours. At times, she screamed for 20 minutes straight, and nothing worked to stop it, that was when we were introduced to Gripe water (thank God). It was hard on all of us, but it was hardest on Carlito's bunny:

He does this every time she cries. The funniest thing is when she starts to fuss, you see him approaching the bunny quietly, as if thinking "I better prepare myself, she may get loud."

Thankfully the colic has gotten better. Gripe water has been a savior. It really seems to help her tummy and the scream fests have gone away. She still screams over hunger at times, but that is easily solved. I think she is a bit dramatic, but I know she gets it from me since I am a major bitch when I'm hungry. The colic she gets from Michael, so it is all his fault. At least he is really good at calming her down. That is the least he can do, right?

Once my mom left I realized all the little things she was doing for me, and the big ones too.I cannot thank her enough for the things she did those last few weeks of my pregnancy, and the first few weeks of Sofia's life. I guess she can put it on my tab, since I owe her things I can never repay like: my education, my love of reading, the good genes responsible for no stretch marks, my thick hair and long legs, my smile, allowing me to have a great father even though at times he was a crappy husband, my brothers, oh! and my life. Thanks just doesn't cover it.

The hardest adjustment for me has been how hard it has been to manage my time and multitask. I'm the girl who worked full time, while going to grad school part time, planned a wedding long distance, found time to watch 15 hours of TV shows a week, had a three movie netflix subscription, had fun with friends and my fiance, managed a book club, all at once. I know a lot about multitasking. It is just harder with Sofia. I can read a paper back while I breast feed, even catch up on The Daily Show on my DVR. Still, there is so many things to do and so little time to do them. It is an adjustment, without a doubt.

As many of you know Michael and I run a family business, and this is our busiest season. I had baby girl on a Wednesday, Thursday of the next week I was in the office doing payroll. At first I was going in 2-3 afternoons a week. My mom was still here watching her for me. After she left, I started going in daily, but not full time. Some mornings my mother in law keeps her for me - so I can get more done and they can have grand momma/grand baby time. Otherwise, she goes with me to work every afternoon from 1-6. Some days we go in by 10 am, it depends on her mood. Luckily the boss is her daddy.

Sofia is absolutely gorgeous. I know I am biased, but she is. Of course, I thought she was the most beautiful baby that ever was from the moment she came out screaming. Michael, however, confesses he didn't think she was that pretty. Michael just has not seen many newborns, so he don't know! All newborns are a little weird looking, I agree. Especially if they had a vaginal birth. They have cone heads, and are swollen and wrinkled at the same time. Sofia had all these things, plus she was very red and hairy. Still, the underlying beauty is there, and I could see not only how beautiful she was then but how beautiful she would become.

Now that she is filling up, she is just blossoming. Now the fun begins. She smiles, she coos, she grabs things, follows us with her eyes. I was reading Dr. Seuss' Alphabet book to her the other evening and she was visibly excited. Kicking, cooing and yelping in excitement. She is without a doubt a little miracle.

By now, most of my friends have seen her sneezing video. She sneezes a lot (like me) and then she sighs. It is the cutest thing and it has to be seen to appreciated. She does it all the time, at least daily. Those of us who spend time with her find ourselves waiting for it when she sneezes. If she doesn't sigh, we are all visibly disappointed. In case you haven't seen it, here it is again:

She is just amazing! Michael says she is better than a cat. I say he treats her like a toy. He says he treats her more like a pet. First, he pets her hair as if she was Carlito. Then, he speaks for her as if he were a ventriloquist. We discussed this last night. He says she might as well be a pet, because she can't do much, we clean her poop and feed her and pet her and she just lies around. He realizes eventually she will sit and then walk and talk and all that stuff, but for now, we will continue to play with her and dress her up in a Georgia Cheerleader outfit she got as a gift. (thanks Sandy!)

This is all in good fun, but Michael is truly obsessed with her intellectual and cultural development. He is constantly talking to her about equations and other math and science stuff. She (thus we) sleep to Mozart, and she is constantly exposed to a lot of classical masterpieces. Not only that, but classic salsa and classic rock as well. Michael says she is the ultimate Country Rican, and so she should be able to dance salsa and sing Freebird without a problem. I can't sing to save my life, but little Sofia is comforted by my voice and so I sing to her all the time. Anything from Lauren Hill to Metallica, and frequently while I breastfeed I sing songs of Puerto Rico. Not just for the Spanish, but because she needs to know Verde Luz, Preciosa and any other boricua anthem I can think of.

I am happy to report that Michael has loosened up on the pink. He thinks it looks good on her and so he doesn't mind it as much as he thought. However, he (and I) still insist on doing our best to overcome gender stereotypes. We are avoiding the "princess" concept as much as we can, unless its a princess like the one in Enchanted who rescues her prince and chooses her own path. None of this damsel in distress bs for our little girl. In support of this concept, my good friend Glianny has given Sofia (and Michael) a pink BB gun, a Daisy. Yeah, she has to wait a decade to use it but it is too damn cute and daddy can't wait to teach her how to shoot.

I have told Michael that kids have a way of doing what you don't want them to do most, so this all may be moot. For all we know she might turn out to be the girliest girl you ever met. We will keep trying though. On that note, here is the last video I will subject you folks to. Her new thing is twirling her hair. She is two months old, but has enough hair to play with and so she does... constantly. She might be a bigger flirt than her momma! God help us!

"Oh, the places you'll go!"

2011-04-02T11:45:00.000-04:00

My favorite Dr. Seuss book - hands down. I purchased it about 10 years ago for myself, when I worked at that bookstore in Germany. That's how much I like it. That and "Where the wild things are" but we will leave that subject for another time. "Oh, the places you'll go!"...

I read it this morning to Sofia Carolina for the first time. I suspect we will be reading it a lot, until we can both recite it. The only flaw is that it always refers to the "guy" as they did back in the day. Apparently only boys were going places.
   "You have brains in your head.
     You have feet in your shoes.
     You can steer yourself
     any direction you choose.
     You're on your own. And you know what you know.
     And YOU are the guy [or gal] who'll decide where to go."

What a great book. What a great message. Have you read it? How long has it been since you read it? How long has it been since you read any children's books? I know, I know. I wouldn't be reading many children's books if not for Sofia. BUT, I have had this one for a decade because it means a lot to me. It gets me thinking. I don't know how often I read Dr. Seuss as a child. I know I read a lot. I was after all a little geek in glasses. But it gets me wondering how much of this message I might have internalized at a subconscious level. All the places I've gone, was I thinking at a deeper level "With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you're too good to go down any not-so-good street."? I guess we'll never know. But I think about this whenever I choose a book to read to my child. I think about this whenever I see Michael reading Sofia some quartely report from some company he is researching to invest in. She really is soothed, even when colicky, by the sound of us reading to her. I suspect the phone book will do, but why not make it Robert Frost? (which Michael has in the car for "reading" emergencies).

I wanted to blog about this book because it occurs to me that many of us are in "The Waiting Place" and need to get out. I mean, we all are at some time or another, but like the Dr. says "NO! That's not for you!".

OK, you just have to read the book. It takes less than 10 minutes. If you just want to read the text, go to this place:
http://www.teamhope.com/seuss.htm

There are many creative sites to read it on, here's one that reads it to you you lazy bum:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQRWeZy-S8Q

I could tell Sofia was riveted by the story. Her little 5 week brain imagining the places she will see, the trips, the fun, the adventures...OK, so she fell asleep. What do you want from her? The point is the mesage is floating somewhere in her pretty little brain "Your mountain is waiting. So...get on your way!"

Linda Krystal

2011-03-24T22:37:00.002-04:00

Linda

Today is my niece's birthday. She is turning 23 and it seems like yesterday she was 2. I am a little emotional today, because my mother left after an extended visit yesterday, so today is my first official day on my own with my baby and my husband without mom. And, to top it off, my baby girl is a month old. A month! I think about Linda being 23 and it makes me want to cry that before I know it, my little Sofia will be 23 too. They grow up so fast! I know it's cliché - but it is also true.

Linda holds a special place in our family because she was first for all of us. She was my parents' first grandchild. My older brother's first (and only) child. For my other brother and myself she was the first niece. She was the princess. And we were all in love with her; really we still are.

As usual, I can only speak for myself, so here it goes.

Linda was the first newborn I ever held. She was 3 days old when I held her for the first time, and somewhere there is a God-awful picture of this. I am wearing the ugly glasses and I have a very scared look on my face. I was 14 at the time, and was very close to Sonia, Linda's mother. I really really wanted a sister when I was little, as most girls do - especially when you have two older brothers. Sonia was as close as I got. She helped me get ready for school dances, we talked about boys I liked, and she even tweezed my eye brows the first time. I was maid of honor at the wedding.

When Baby Linda was born, I remember my brother saying "She looks just like Lisa" referring to his memory of when I was born. I was stoked! She was my niece, my little sister, my baby doll, all in one. I have always felt very protective of her. Last year she told a friend of mine during my wedding weekend that our relationship had always been more like mother-daughter than aunt-niece. When you consider she has a good mother, two good grandmothers and other aunts, that is pretty amusing.

Linda and I at my condo in Athens

I guess I have always been the aunt to give advice (wanted and unwanted), and I have always given her a bit of hard time because I want her to aim high, higher, highest. I only do it because I think she can be anything, do anything, have anything she wants. I really do. I often think I see her as so much more than she sees herself. And I think she might get that from me.

When I was 22-23 I had no idea who I was. I think she frequently sees me as who I have been in my 30s, because that is her experience and memory of me. We hardly saw each other when I was in my 20s, I was too busy jumping around the world, trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted. I always had a bit of a goddez complex. I knew I was attractive. I knew I was smart. But I didn't really know what a goddez I truly could be. I thought things came to you and you just did the best you could with them. I never really believed the world was mine, or that I could change my reality into whatever I wanted it to be. It took 10 addresses, 15 jobs, and a starter marriage for me to come to see that I truly was "the master of my fate, the captain of my soul". Youth is definitely wasted on the young. I guess I wish I had someone like the older version of myself to guide me through the rough patches.

I want her to have all my wisdom and power that I have at 37 at the age of 23. I want her to hear me out, and learn through my mistakes so she doesn't repeat them. I want her to be Lisa 2.0. Problem is, one has too much fun making mistakes and most of us have to learn through our own experience. Most of all, I want to spare her the pain, I want to spare her the disappointments that come when life does not go the way we planned. I wish I could use a Harry Potter wand and make it all better for her, but I know I can't.

When I was in college there were certain CDs that seem to live in my cd player. This was the 90s, so we listened to cds, no such thing as ipods. "Nevermind" by Nirvana, "Cooleyhighharmony" by Boys to Men, "Al final de este viaje" by Silvio Rodriguez, and "Our time in Eden" by 10,000 Maniacs to name a few. There was this song on the 10,000 Maniacs album called "My how you've grown" that Natalie Merchant wrote for her niece. Everytime I heard it I thought of Linda and I cried. I still do. We hardly saw each other from the time she was 6 till she was like 15 or 16. Eventually, I had two more nieces, who I love dearly. But they were born when I was in my 20s and more of an adult. It is just different. Linda was my baby. I baby sat her, I helped potty train her. For the first two years of her life we were very close, so as she grew up in a different place and I missed out on it, it saddened me. She was a little piece of me that was not there anymore, and every time I saw her she was a little more grown up. My eyes tear up when I think about it.

Linda: You will always be my first baby girl and I will forever love you as such. I see my own daughter now, and I remember what you were like as a baby, dancing to Michael Jackson and crying every time you left our house. All I can say is, I hope at least one young woman out there loves my Sofia the way I have loved you. This is my song to you, I wish I had written it myself.

Here's a link to the song, I hope it works:

http://new.music.yahoo.com/10-000-maniacs/tracks/how-youve-grown--846428

and here are the lyrics:

http://www.mp3lyrics.org/0-9/10000-maniacs/how/

On my wedding day.

Becoming Country Rican

2011-03-23T19:26:00.000-04:00

I left Puerto Rico at the age of 22, in 1996. Yes, I know how old I am. My friend Glianny and I had a bit of Olympic fever, so we came to Georgia. This fever was compounded by the unemployment rate in Puerto Rico; and the fact that my older brother lived in Athens Georgia.

I also had an R.E.M. poster on my bedroom wall. That has nothing to do with anything, except that when I put that poster on my wall I knew nothing of Athens, UGA or the 40 watt.

At that tiime, the last thing I was thinking was that I would marry a gringo - born and bread in the South. Or that I would someday live in rural Georgia with my husband and baby girl, running a business, raising a family.

Where is all this coming from? Well my mom came to Georgia for the first time in February to help me with baby, and through her eyes I have been forced to relive what it was like for me when I first moved here. I was a lot like her, after all she raised me and I was coming here from her house. The difference is when one is young one is more adaptable and accepting - or at least I was. She is in her sixties and like most people in their sixties set in her ways. God bless her for all she does. The woman is a work horse and a domestic goddess. She did, however, have a hard time with how Michael and I live our lives, and who can blame her? When one lives on a island for almost 30 years without leaving it is hard to adjust or accept a different way of life.

There was some culture shock. My mom's English is pretty good, but she learned it New York City and let's face it, the southern accent is hard to understand at first. I remember Glianny and I would tell people with thick Southern accents back in the day "I'm sorry. English is not my first language, can you repeat that?" When in fact we were thinking: "I'm sorry, you don't speak the same English I do, can you say that again in TV English?" I live surrounded by the twang now, and I understand the Boomhowers of the world, but back then...not so much.

Seventy degrees is cold to a Rican FOB. (Fresh off the boat, for those of you who don't deal with immigrants much. It applies even if you came by plane, or drove or swam or walked). My first job here was as a hostess at The Grill in downtown Athens, and I remember wearing a sweater over my black jeans and white t shirt when it was 70 outside. I would look at the locals in shorts and tank tops and think "these gringos are crazy!" Eventually I realized they all saw me the same way- especially when I was the only one in a sweater. My mom had the same experience this time around too. We were celebrating the sprung weather in late February while she had a turtle neck on.

Throughout the years, I had the advantage of living through summers in Texas and winters in Germany, so I have learned the hard way that "hot and cold" are very relative terms.

Driving from Athens to Dewy Rose one day my mom remarked "these houses seem fake". It loses something in the translation, but she meant they weren't real. I had the same thought when I was here for the first time. She said they looked like "monopoly houses". I think I said "Life" You remember the game of Life? The little churches with the steeples? So many houses and churches around here look like that. Architecture. In Puerto Rico the houses are so very different. There is a lot of old school Spanish colonial buildings, and modern day Caribbean construction, that resembles Miami (in case you have never been to Puerto Rico). Seeing the buildings around here is a little unreal to us in the beginning. It takes getting used to. Again, nothing a little travelling would not cure.

Travel. We all should do it. I know we cannot all afford to, but even if it is just to Atlanta, or Florida. It broadens your horizons in a way that nothing else can. I say this as someone who was always a book worm and read a lot about a lot. Trust me, reading about art history and learning about La Pieta by Michelangelo is no substitute for walking into St. Peter's and seeing it in front of you. We all know different places do things differently, but until you go through it and experience it for yourself - it is just hard to understand. Like falling in love, or giving birth: the experience of it is key.

Daylight savings. That's another biggie. In Puerto Rico we do not change our clocks. The difference between winter and summer sunset when you live that close to the equator is just an hour, so why change the clock? It is something that I, after all these years, still can't get used to. The first few weeks when the sun sets late really throws me off. You can imagine how the 11 pm sunset of Germany made me feel. Unnatural.

Getting to know people, not just traveling is also key. When you live in Puerto Rico, you know what? Most of th epeople you encounter are Puerto Ricans! Just like when you live in the rural south most of the people you encounter are southerners. Living in a college town, or in a city, forces you in a way to interact with people from places you never thought you would. It;s brings you the benefit of traveling without a passport. I don't ever want to see my daughter look at someone froma different race/culture/country like they were from outer space. Fortunately, Michael and I are blessed with multicultural friends.

Anyway, all of this has made me reflect on how I came to be who I am, and how I have been able to adapt to living in a culture so different than my own. Traveling, reading, moving around... I think that's what did it. I look at my mother, and look and my daughter and think about all that I need to teach her and expose her to. My little Southern Rican Goddez must be at home in two cultures, and comfortable in any other - if I have anything to say about it!

My labor experience

2011-03-10T08:41:00.002-05:00

The following blog discusses my labor experience and has some personal medical details some people might not care to read. Gus, this means you. If you are not comfortable with discussions of cms and other such things, maybe you should skip this.

It has been two weeks since my baby girl, Sofia Carolina, was born. My mom keeps telling me to write it down, before I forget it all, because it is already starting to grow hazy. They say it is evolution's way of ensuring the propagation of the species. Who knows? All I know is that I better write it before I forget, and maybe baby girl will get a kick out of it someday.

I want to say I feel blessed and lucky to have a great husband and great mother. Without their support I have no idea what I'd be doing, but I am sure it would not be writing on the blog. My house is clean and we are all fed thanks to my mother. She is on top of every little thing and allows me the luxuries of long showers, and sitting calmly with my baby on my lap. My husband is a trooper. He is a first year business owner who is in the middle of his busiest season, but does not complain about rocking a fussy baby at 1 am. He does it with gusto, and tells me repeatedly what a good job I am doing. I know, I am sickening. Don't hate the player, hate the game.

As I mentioned in the previous blog entry, we had a planned induction. I had my baby in a hospital, with an Ob, had an epidural, and an episiotomy, and would not have it any other way. I am very happy with how everything turned out, and I will be eternally grateful to my labor nurse Kathy, and my Dr. for being so awesome, entertaining all my questions, and respecting my choices. In my pregnancy reading I read a lot of stuff about the evil OB/GYN and how they do not care about the patient of their wishes. People will have you believe that if you go with an OB you will be transported back to 1973, where you will not be given any choice or explanation, and they will gas you and take your baby away. Period. I don't know if that is the case in other places, but it certainly was not for me with Dr. Goggin or Athens Regional.

The first thing I must say is the my doctor is a solo practitioner, which I have heard is rare these days. This means that throughout the pregnancy you can develop a relationship with him and know that he is the one that will deliver your baby, unless something unforeseen happens. He does all the ultrasounds himself, never passes you to a technician, and takes the time to explain every detail we questioned. I had three ultrasounds, and the last one was at 30 weeks and a 3d. We discussed our options throughout the pregnancy, so he knew how I felt about everything that could happen. I always felt confident when I left his office. His optimism was contagious, and I feel now that we had time to get to know each other. I am very comfortable with the nurse practitioner, and the rest of the office staff, and so was Michael - which makes a huge difference.

At the hospital everything was pretty smooth. Our nurse Kathy was amazing. She was an incredible source of information, and a whole lot of support. She explained everything before we did it, gave me a chance to ask questions, and the opportunity to change my mind if I wanted to. We discussed ER and House and other medical shows, she joked around with us a lot ad was just all around awesome. Twenty plus years of nursing experience. As my best friend growing up is a RN, I always tell my nurses "there is a special place in heaven for nurses" which they appreciate, but I really believe is true. (Hi Janice! Love you!)

I got to the hospital at 6:30 am. After all the bureaucratic junk, I was in my gown in my room waiting for my "go juice" as she called it - or the pitocin to induce labor around 9:30. She explained they would give me the lowest dose to see how I progressed. I was 2 cm dilated and 80% effaced, so they want to be careful not to induce labor too quickly. By noonish I was 4-5 cm, and they never needed to increase my pitocin. Kathy said she would have to agree with Dr. Goggin, I would more than likely have a baby by supper, since my body was reacting to the lowest dose of pitocin so well. She said everything was going as well as one could expect, and then she and the doctor discussed the process of the Epidural once more. It is well known that when you are on Pitocin the contractions tend to come faster and stronger than in most natural labor scenarios, so they wanted me to know if I still wanted it, how long it would take to be prepared for it and how long it would be before I got relief from the pain. They said at least an hour to be comfortable. I asked for the epidural around 1:30 pm, when the pain was starting to get scary. Sure enough an hour later I felt no pain. I mean none. I was truly amazed. I even dosed off a little.

I will say this though, getting the epidural was the scariest part for all of us. Michael was in the room with me for support. I was in serious pain and there is a doctor going to stick a needle in my spine. We were both concerned, it was indeed scary. When they let my mom back in the room she looked like she was going to cry. In fact, after I confirmed all the pain was gone, she did cry. Not being in the room she was very worried, when she left I was in pain and they were about to stick me in the scary way. Moms.

I want to say that I have a new level of respect for my friends Page and Krystal, who did the natural child birth thing. Every woman, and every pregnancy is different, but I just cannot imagine enduring the pain of the contractions for any longer than I did. From what I have seen, labor seems to be the only time when people believe going through the pain is a plus. No one tells you to go ahead and pass a kidney stone without the drugs, or have a root canal. I just don't see myself choosing pain. I truly respect those of you who did this without the medical assistance, that is truly amazing. You go girls!

So we are all chillin' in the room, discussing the play lists on the ipod. Michael was still trying to talk me into laboring to Led Zeppelin. He still thinks we could have timed the birth to The Immigrant Song. However, there was never any screaming in the birth so the whole thing would have been annoying. I listened to the Eagles, because they always seem to calm me, I don't know why. Marc Anthony, Franco de Vita and the Dixie Chicks. Yes, my daughter was actually born to the Dixie Chicks, which puts me in a good mood too, and I feel it is good girl power music. Michael, however, is a little ashamed of this. I say if she is going to "American by birth, southern by the grace of God." as he likes to say - then why not the Dixie Chicks? He tried to correct this later on, by playing her "Stairway to heaven" as the first song chosen especially for her to listen to.

After the epidural I couldn't feel much, and I could not get up and walk, but, for me at least, it was such a short period of time that it was not a big deal. I knew when they checked again I'd be like 7-8 cms for sure. But I was wrong. At 4 something Dr. Goggin checks and in fact I am 10 cm and ready to go. Active labor was only around 4 hours for me, and then it was time to push. The pushing is why this whole thing is called labor. I couldn't feel a thing, but the pushing was still very intense, hard work. The nurse said she could feel the head, and there was hair... lots. Once her little head started to show everyone had to remark on all the hair she looked like she was going to have. That is another disconcerting hing about labor, the exposure. More people peeked at my vajayjay than I care to discuss. I mean, it is hard to be discreet after this.

I pushed for almost two and a half hours. I hear that is a long time to be pushing but I have nothing to compare it to. My mom kept telling me how lucky I was that I could not feel the pain while pushing. At this point the doctor brought up the episiotomy. We discussed it at my last visit in his office. He knew I didn't want one. He said we didn't have to have one, but that the baby would need to come out and sometimes a tear could happen. If he saw the possibility of a tear, he would suggest a cut to prevent the trauma of a tear. In a way, to control the tear and have a cleaner opening. His actual words were; "the baby will need room to come out, either she comes out easily, she makes the room herself, or we make it for her."

Anyway, he told me we were there. I am paraphrasing here, but here is what he told me: "We are at that point we didn't want to be in. You have been trying now for two and a half hours. You could be at this for another hour, and you are exhausting yourself and your body. Let me do this, and we will have a baby in five minutes." I was truly exhausted. My mom and Michael were both looking at me like "Honey, let's have this baby" and so, I let him cut me. Some people might think it is bad, but I was mostly scared of how it would be because of all that I read about it. It really was not that bad. At the time I was a little sad that it came to that, but the idea of tearing myself, or pushing for another hour was scarier than the episiotomy. I told the doctor to make sure he left me as pretty as he found me. He said he'd leave me better than he found me. Always with the sense of humor. The fact remains though: I felt nothing.

He was right though, we had a baby in five minutes. She came out screaming bloody murder and all anyone could say was "look at all that hair!" One nurse told me she had so much hair that I could put bows in it. My mom and Michael were both there in the front row, patting me, coaching me, and taking it all in. Although my mother had three children of her own, she had never seen this in living color. We were all amazed and excited. Michael cut the cord, and they brought her to me. She was cleaned up and on my skin very quickly. Beautiful baby girl, screaming from the first second and looking at everything. So very alert! I was concerned she'd be groggy because of the drugs, but she was wide awake and seemed so curious.

The next morning the doctor came to see me, and told me he was proud of me and gave me a hug. I just love him.

I left the hospital two days after I arrived. My complete stay was less than 55 hours. I walked out, as I walked in, no wheel chair or anything like that. I got home and had to start adjusting to the new normal. My body felt alright. I have not had more than four hours of sleep straight since the night before Sofia was born but I feel pretty good. I am tired, I was sore, but not too bad. The day after I gave birth I felt like someone had beat me with a baseball bat from the effort of pushing for so long. Other than that, the healing process has been good to me. I honestly cannot complain. Things could have been so much worse, that I am grateful for the care I have received, for my mami, my hubby and my baby girl.

A good friend of mine told me when I was trying to decide on which way to go with the birth that I should remember the only thing that mattered was that I left the hospital with a healthy baby. Everything else was nonsense. As long as I was happy, and my baby was safe, nothing else mattered. I am sure I will forget a lot of this eventually. I hope to always remember the looks on my mami's face, and on Michael's as the baby started to come out. I hope I will always remember the sound of that scream Sofia belted out like she was Robert Plant, and the feeling of having her against my skin for the first time.

Later on I will blog about the baby herself, and other more pleasant topics. I just felt I needed to get this all out of the way before I forgot it.

Sorry if I was too graphic.

"Put me back in!"

Last pregnancy update

2011-02-19T21:18:00.000-05:00

We are having a baby! I mean, the next time I blog, the next time most of you will see me, I will be a mommy. It is all very surreal.

I am now 38 weeks. This whole process started a year ago, and it is scary and exciting to watch it come to a climax. In preparing for baby I read that women should consider their pregnancy a one year process, since they should start preparing for baby three months prior to conception. This is what I did, and then it took us a month to conceive so it has been a full year and then-some. It has been over a year since I got off the birth control and started taking better care of myself in order to become an incubator. It has been a challenge and a blessing, and now I will have my baby girl next week!

After reading, oh I don't know about 10 books and researching all things baby, I decided to get an Ob/Gyn and take advantage of all modern medicine has to offer. I have many friends who have gone the natural midwife way and I respect and admire their choice immensely. However, I do not feel this is the route for me. I am 37 years old and having my first child. I had a lot of medical questions and concerns that I felt were best addressed by actual doctors. My nurse practioner has been wonderful, I absolutely adore my Ob and the staff of his office, and feel very comfortable going into this adventure with him.

During my first visit to Dr. Goggin with Michael, there was a young couple with a newborn in the waiting room who were there to see the nurse practitioner for a follow up visit. The doctor came out to the waiting room to see the baby, and say hello to the parents, because he would not have time to see them otherwise. He seemed so warm and affectionate. When we asked the parents about their experience the father said "I trust him so much that if he told me to leave my baby out in the mailbox I would have done it." I thought it was funny at the time, but I understand what he means. Dr. Goggin makes us feel like our baby is the most important baby he will ever deliver. I always leave the office in a good mood, and he has made me feel truly confident that I can do this.

Anyway, after a lot of careful deliberation we have decided to induce labor next week. It is weird to pick a birthday, but we have picked February 23rd as our baby girl's birthday. At my 37 week appointment I was already 2 cm dilated. At my 38 week appointment I was still 2 cm, and 75% effaced. I am on my way to having this baby. Since she is in the 67% percentile for size, he says she should already be approaching the 7 lbs. His guesstimate is that she will be in the low 7 lbs, 7.3, 7.5 or so. I think she will be bigger, but I might just be paranoid because of my family history. Our main concern with waiting is not the size of baby girl, but the fact that we are a 45 minute drive from our hospital. Waiting for this baby to come naturally is scary to us. Being an hour away from getting the care we need, being on a country road in the middle of the night, it just seems unnecessary to us, when technology and science can allow us to plan it out. And so we have.

We will check into Athens Regional around 6:30 am on Wednesday. I will be given Pitocin and we will see what happens. My doctor has told me I have a pelvis from heaven. I am not kidding, he actually said that. He says he sees an almost 0% chance of a c-section, and that I should have an easy labor experience. You can imagine how thrilled I am about this. He says I should have a baby by supper time. Michael says 4 pm, my mom says 2 pm. My niece Linda called 3 pm. I, of course, am hoping to have a baby by lunchtime but I realize I may be too optimistic. I have been told that I will more than likely be sent home on Friday. Those of you who are in the area are welcomed to visit us in the hospital, probably on Thursday. I will not commit to seeing anyone on Wednesday until I have the baby and email/call folks - in case I feel like total crap and do not feel like seeing anyone other than Dr. Goggin, Mami, Michael and Sofia.

By the way, we still have not decided on a middle name for Sofia. We have a few favorites, but cannot seem to make up our minds. I encourage you to send me suggestions, as well as guess the time and weight of the baby.

I am feeling pretty good by the way. It seems like every day brings a new pain to my already tired body, but nothing worth crying about. I am tired, I work full 8 hour days and by the time I get home I am pretty worn out just from carrying the extra 26 pounds I have gained and daily beating Sofia gives me from the inside. I am incredibly fortunate that I can come home to my mom, who is going above and beyond for us. She is not only keeping the household functioning, she is indeed improving it by organizing and cleaning and making stuff. As I type, she is sewing extra sheets for Sofia's bassinet. Yeah, she is pretty amazing.

I could complain about the recent bouts of nausea, or the terrible last stretch hemorrhoids, or the hip and back pain but I occasionally go on pregnancy forums online and read about women who are so much more worse off than I. I am grateful for being so healthy, for carrying this child to term who is still bouncing inside of me, and for the help of my dear hubby and my amazing mommy who are keeping me sane and going. No to mention the people at the greenhouse who are willing to chip in, cover for me while I'm out, bringing me gifts and picking up the crap I seem to drop all the time and can't seem to pick up fast enough in my humongous state. Andy, Mary, Celeste, Robert and Ann have all taken on extra work to help Michael and I out and I am truly happy to have so many caring folks around me.

Next time you see me I will be a momma!

I love my mommy!

2011-02-16T10:38:00.000-05:00

I am sorry I have neglected my blog. I have been so busy, I don't even know where the time went. The business is really busy now, as Spring is around the corner and things are blooming. I am also almost 38 weeks pregnant, and for some reason that seems to consume my life. Truth be told, I have not blogged because there really has not been anything interesting to blog about, I mean other than baby Sofia and I promised myself (and some of my dear friends) that I would not let the country rican become a baby blog.

The big news in my life since the last blog is that my mom is now with us at our country estate, aka dos gatos, aka my double wide in Dewy Rose. It may not seem like a big deal to many of you who do not know my story well, but trust me, this is a big deal. My mother had not gotten on a plane since 1982, when she went to...let's say "take care of some business" in New York City. Yes, almost 30 years on the island of Puerto Rico, which is indeed paradise, but you can imagine the culture shock of the Atlanta airport after all that time.

I love my mother more than life. I guess most people feel that way about their moms, but like most people I just think my mother is just more exceptional and deserves a little extra praise. Indulge me while I brag, and I apologize to those of you who do not have a mom, or one as fabulous as mine, I am truly sorry. Everyone deserves to have a mom like mine. If we all had a mother like this, the world would be a better place.

My mom was born into a very poor family in the mountains of Puerto Rico in the mid 40s. I mean poor. They were truly country folk in a place that was really in bad shape at that point in time. Her mother passed away due to complications after childbirth with my mom's younger brother. My mom was child number three, he was number six, she was around eight years old. This would have been the 50s in Puerto Rico, a very different place and time. Her dad got himself another woman and had three more kids with her. She lived with him for some time, but she was young and the timeline is a little blurry for all of us. She went from her dad, to her maternal grandmother, and between her mother's two sisters. She never had much of a home, since all her residences seemed to be temporary. She lived with all her siblings and different points in time, but I doubt they all shared one home after her mother's death.

She met my dad when she was 16 and in high school. The aunt she lived with at the time told her she should quit school, since she was getting married anyway. She said no, she wanted to finish. She was in one of those "secretarial" programs, she wanted to finish and have some kind of trade- future husband be damned. She worked all the time. Had a practicum for her diploma, helped take care of her aunt's kids, did her older brother's laundry for a couple of bucks, bought fabric with that money so she could make herself clothes. My dad had been in the military already, had already seen Europe, and courted her very briefly in person. Most of their courtship was through letters. He went to New York to get settled to bring her to live with him after the wedding - a pattern that would repeat itself in my family time and time again. In any case, they did not have enough money for the airfare back and forth, so they got married by power of attorney. Meaning that my mom married in a room by signing papers while he was still in New York. She used to joke that the man she married had his wife by his side - my uncle Johnny and his wife Rosita. It was 1964 and this was not an uncommon practice back then. Those of you that are TV buffs (like myself) might remember Richie Cunningham marrying this way on Happy Days - Fonzie stood in for him. My mom had graduated high school a few weeks before, had just turned 19, and got on a plane by herself to New York City to meet her new husband and start her new life. She will tell you now that she barely knew him looking back. Young beautiful country girl in the big city in the 60s.

She had my brother Kano a little after a year of marriage. As a pregnant woman I marvel at her pregnancies. The woman is5'2" tall, and at the time was probably 95 lbs. and had a 9 lbs. baby like nothing. At the time she and my father did not own a car, and lived in a 5 story walk up a few city blocks from the hospital. She walked to the hospital, and after having him walked back home and up the 5 flights of stairs. She says "Your dad carried Kano". Whew! At least there's that.

For a long time she thought she would have no more kids, but as it happens with many mothers, when her baby was growing up she decided she wanted another one. She had my brother Lucho seven years after her first. This pregnancy was particularly difficult, as she had gestational diabetes. He was 11 lbs. at birth. At least by then they had a car. She also said the people in the hospital were extremely caring towards her because of the diabetes. He was taken out with forceps, and she just carried on. This is her normal.

I was a happy accident. She certainly wasn't planning a third child when she found out she was pregnant. Interesting fact, Roe Vs. Wade was being battled in court and the doctor told her "You know, you don't have to have this baby if you don't want to." She told me she had never thought there was such an option. Choice- is something we take for granted now. She went home and told my dad about the pregnancy and about what the doctor said. My dad said "Oh what the hell. Maybe it will be a girl." And so it was that the country rican was born into a poor Puerto Rican family in the South Bronx on Christmas Eve 1973. My mom remembers the nurses drinking wine and celebrating while she was in labor. I was 9.5 lbs. She says I was the easiest delivery of the three. Of course, after pushing out an 11 pounder I imagine anything is easy.

Now that she is staying with me, I ask her a lot about her pregnancies, which she remembers very little of. Every once in awhile she drops a whopper that leaves me stunned. I asked her how she did it. I know my dad was not much help (since she mentions this all the time). She marvels at fathers today, who do so much with their children, she is from a different time and a different culture I might add. Latin men are not exactly known for being helpful with "women stuff" as a lot of them call it. I asked her point blank. How on earth did she handle an 8 year old and a 15 month old when she was 8 months pregnant. I mean, I can barely take care of myself! She just says "You do what you have to. We lived on a second floor and there were times the elevator was broken and I had to haul the two kids and the stroller up and down those stairs." Gasp! Michael won't let me lift anything. I just can't imagine her life. I try and try to picture what it must have been like all the time. I can't wrap my head around it.

She is superwoman. When I was 6 and we still lived in New York she was a teacher's aid at a Head Start, and was going to community college at night, working on her Early Childhood Education degree. She never finished, as they decided to move to Puerto Rico and life changed drastically. But I remember going to class with her and sitting in the back of the class room and coloring in my books, or going to the library with her and picking out a book for me while she got a book for her own school work. She made me the book worm I am today, and taught me by her example just how important education was. I got my master's while working full time. There was a time I had the job of two people while I did this, there was a time while I was planning a long distance wedding and writing my thesis and thought "I can't possibly do this well - something is bound to get screwed up." But then I remembered my mom, with her three kids, her full time job, her night school, her teen ager in constant trouble, her philanderer husband... and I would decide to quit my bitching and just get it done. And I did, because she is right, you do what you have to.

It is funny to me that she wont let me do anything. I was ironing Michael's shirt yesterday and she literally took the iron from me. She stood next to me while I was ironing and took the iron from my hand and started to do it herself. "You should sit, you've been working all day". She does the same thing when I am putting on my socks in the morning. Quite literally she takes the sock from my hands and puts them on me like I suppose she did when I was a baby. Michael and I are working all day. Well I work an 8 hour day, Michael works a 12 hour day. My mom is at home cleaning and cooking for us. She finished cleaning out the baby's room for me, she has fixed up Michael's work clothes, reorganized our closets and kitchen cabinets, the woman is a Tasmanian devil of house keeping. Last weekend Michael and I were concerned about taking her somewhere, showing her some sites or something, you know before we get overwhelmed with baby. She was not interested. Said she didn't feel like getting dressed and going out, she would stay home and the two of us could go somewhere. We just laughed.

I know some of you reading this are thinking "Lisa is terribly spoiled" and I recognize that I am. If I didn't, Michael would remind me anyway. I left home at 22 for the first time and have done for myself ever since. I realize I am not as good at it as my mother is, but she had the misfortune of having to do for herself ALL her life. I can honestly say that I have waited this long to have a child, because I never felt up for the challenge of parenthood before. I have always thought that if you are going to be a mom, you should be a mom like my mom. Being a mother means being able to make those sacrifices, to love someone beyond yourself so much that they come first and if you cant do that- then you shouldn't be a parent.

I just hope I am ready to be half the mom my mother is, I think that would be amazing. It saddens me that she didn't have a mother to help her through those difficult times. Hopefully her mother watches us from where ever and smiles at the amazing woman she brought into this world, I know I do.

Life in the new year...and years past.

2011-01-02T18:21:00.000-05:00

Well, it is 2011 and I can hardly believe how fast time is going. Happy New Year to all of you! Much love from the country.

It's been weeks since I have blogged, for one simple reason: I am pregnant. There is nothing wrong with me, but I have found that carrying around a human being inside you tends to slow you down some. I am used to multitasking, but I am growing larger and clumsier by the day so my attention needs to be more focused on what I do, therefore making me cut down on what I do. It's a well known biological fact that pregnant ladies tend to get clumsier in their last trimester. Those who know me know this is a problem for I am blind and have always been clumsy. And so, nature has told me to slow down, which means I have not done all the usual things I do around the holidays.

For instance, if you did not receive a holiday card from me, you were not the only one. I didn't send any this year. I never actually got around to buying them and addressing them was more than I could manage. I'm sorry. I am sure next year you will get one with an adorable picture of Sofia that you won't know what to do with once the holidays are over.

Michael and I finished our labor and delivery classes. I feel it was well worth the time and energy, just because it gave Michael the opportunity to interact with other dads to be, and to put himself in that position mentally of what going through labor will be like. We also got to hear all about options we will be given at the hospital, with an opportunity to ask a lot of questions which without a doubt will help us later. Michael did remarkably well. He was always a model student so in a classroom environment he always excels. He changed the doll's diaper, bathed her, and practiced swaddling and everything else. We will see how he does it later when the baby is made of skin and bone and not plastic. The only hiccup was when he did a choke hold on the baby doll when the teacher said "Let's talk about choking". Not what she meant, but that's my Michael.

We also went to see the doctor this week for our 30 week appointment. That's right folks, we are ten weeks away from baby! It was interesting for many reasons. For one, I had all kinds of questions about the changes I have been experiencing lately, all of which my doctor responded with "perfectly normal". He is usually very optimistic, and I leave the office feeling pretty and healthy and good about what's to come. Not so much this time.
Lisa: "I've been having a lot of pain in my hips lately"
Dr.: "The pain in your hips has not begun yet. It will get much worse".

Lisa: "I've been having shooting pains in my abdomen. Sometimes the feel like they are coming up from my groin and I feel it sharply all over the belly, then it goes away"
Dr.: "Yeah, also normal. You know what that is? That's the pain of bone hitting bone when the baby moves. 'Shooting pain' and 'pregnancy" go hand in hand towards the end."

Um... Thanks for not sugar coating it doc. He says I am doing remarkably well, I look great, and life in my womb is very good. He also gave me a 3d ultrasound.

We learned several things from this ultrasound. For one my belly is awfully crowded with a lot of gunk. Also, we are definitely having a girl, as indicated by the 3d image of her girl parts we saw on the screen. And last but not least the Ayala-Sanchez genes are very powerful stuff.

Now, I have always suspected that she would look like me, just by looking at my three nieces. They are all improved versions of their Titi Lisa, gorgeous babies who have grown up to be a gorgeous woman in Linda's case, a gorgeous young lady in Andrea's case, and a gorgeous little girl in Camila's. I know, I know, everyone thinks their nieces are gorgeous, it's human nature. But those of you who have met mine know I am telling the truth. The girls could be models, they are that beautiful. They have actually modeled some, all of them. Not that I approve- I believe they should focus on their inner beauty and intellect more than their appearance, but that is a subject for another blog.

The point is this, at 30 weeks in the womb the doctor said "Sorry buddy, this baby looks to be all mama. Maybe your next one will look like you." Of course, all my nieces show traits from the other side of the gene pool. In some pictures Linda looks just like Sonia, and both Andrea and Camila show some of Mayra in them. But, I am going to show you the baby pics of all of us in support of my theory that my family genes are STRONG. Ready?

Baby Country Rican

This is me, sometime in 1974. Adorable little creature, aren't I? I can say this because I get no credit for this. My mami and papi gave me good looks, it is all biology. Notice all the dark hair and the big cheeks, for you will see them again, and again, and again, and again.

God I was cute!

Here is my oldest niece Linda sometimes in 1988:

Linda was my first baby girl.

What did I say about the hair and the cheeks? I was 14 when Linda was born, and when my brother arrived home from the hospital that night the first thing he said was "La misma Lisa" (she's the same as Lisa). Titi

I give you my brother Lucho's first born, Andrea in the year 2000:

Andrea holds the biggest cheeks record.

Now, Andrea is also the one that has the most Asian looking eyes, a trait that runs in the family and that her daddy has as well. All of us have slightly slanted eyes, but Andrea's are the most pronounced. This makes her even prettier (if possible), it gives her a different look.

Last but not least is my baby niece Camila, born in late 2004:

Deja vu huh? It's Camila, trust me.

Um, yeah. Her cheeks look bigger than Andrea's here, but trust me Andrea took the trophy later on. Do you see the family resemblance? I know some of you are bored with my love letter to my nieces, but it is my blog, so tough!

OK, so there you have it. Those are the Ayala girls as babies. But wait, you say there is another little girl coming? Yes, there is. Now I have a few pics from the womb to show you. She is only 30 weeks so she is not fully cooked yet. However, you can already see the big cheeks and the nose and the lips. Unfortunately, we could not get a full shot of her face due to the umbilical cord getting in the way, and all the other gunk. I have cropped it so that it is not a huge mess. I am sure my doctor will give me another ultrasound closer to my due date, where hopefully we can see more.

But, here is Sofia 2/3 of the way cooked:

Kind of a sideways view

My pregnancy books say that it is in the third trimester that baby starts to accumulate fat on her body. So this is her STARTING to put fat on...yeah. I think she might break Andrea's cheek record.

Here's another one, and yes, that is my nose:


Is it my imagination, or does she have a double chin already?

I can only guess that at birth she will have a full head or hair, and will weigh at least 8 lbs. Biology is hard to argue with. Now, we can hope that her hair is not too straight, Michael has a nice wave to his hair (even if he does not like it) I have been wishing she would have Michael's eyes - because they are gorgeous. One can hope she will inherit his math skills and not mine. All this is just in great fun, because really, all we hope for is a healthy baby, ten fingers, ten toes, etc. But the beauty and the intelligence would be nice too...

That's all I have for now. From our growing family to yours, I hope 2011 brings you all that your heart desires.

Labor and delivery class

2010-12-12T13:16:00.000-05:00

Michael and I went to our first of two labor and delivery classes yesterday. 8:30 am to 2:30 pm with an hour for lunch for two Saturdays to, sort of kind of, prepare you for childbirth.

As you can imagine, as with everything else, there are two schools of thought on this subject, and various variations in between. There are those people that believe that you should take a much more than two days of classes for this momentous occasion. There is, after all, a lot of information to gather and learn to prepare you for this. Then there is the school of thought that women have been having babies for milennia and never needed a class for it, so why bother? Those of you that know my husband can guess where he stands on this.

As with everything else, I am somewhere in the middle. I think a two day class is helpful. I have only taken one day of it, but I think it was good. Keep in mind I have read several books on the subject, have three nieces and many, many friends that I have seen go through pregnancy. As anyone who has been pregnant can tell you, once you tell someone you are pregnant you open yourself up to their horror/joyful story of pregnancy and childbirth. There is little you have not read or heard by your third trimester. However, one thing you learn very quickly is that no two pregnancies are alike and no two women experience pregnancy in the same way.

The main reason I wanted the class is because I am an information junkie. Information is power, and the more you know about something the better you are prepared for it. Most of what I heard in class yesterday I had already read or heard before. However, it was very cool to hear it in a room with seven other pregnant couples from all walks of life, and from a nurse with 20+ years experience in this area. The movies with the computer generated diagrams and the live birth footage were great too.

We were also fortunate to be in class with a friend and former classmate from my graduate program (Hi Ken, Hi Gloria) and his lovely wife. She is one hot mama, 35 weeks and fabulous!

The real reason I felt we needed the class is because I felt Michael needed it. Of course, Michael thinks taking a class for labor and delivery is right up there with a class for newborns on how to cry. Is it really necessary? I kept telling him he had NO IDEA what he was getting himself into and therefore needed it. It is a good setting, with all the other expectant dads and moms together in a room, reading, listening to the teacher, watching the movies, it is a crash course and something to give him a taste of what is to come.

His first commentary was: "OK, now I'm scared." He says he was not worried until he started paying attention and the teacher scared him straight. He looked at me and asked me:"Did you know all this?" Yes, honey, I did. What do you think I have been reading about for the last year?

While I sit amazed once again at how my body is engineered to do this, Michael sits in amazement at how primal the whole process is. His final observation was how animal-like we are. How the women are moaning and groaning and really not that different from every other mammal. I feel a spiritual connection with every kick in my belly. Michael says the whole process is further proof that there is no god, there is no intelligent design, we might as well be cows. Fascinating, isn't it?

On the subject of the blood and guts of delivery Michael says he is not worried because he has, after all, gutted a dear. (see previous posts for the gory details) I also had to listen to a very sad story about Michael helping his dad birth a calf unsuccessfully. Apparently the calf was breached, they were unable to save her or the momma cow, but momma cow was breathing and moaning much like the women in the video we watched in class. Yeah. I asked him about watching the babies coming out of the mommies in the video all he said was "I really don't know what to say about that". After all was said and done he reached the conclusion that perhaps they were preparing us for the worst in order to prepare us. After all, they don't want people saying "Wow that was nothing like the video they showed in class".

We did some relation exercises, talked about positions that would help with the pain of contractions and labor, the classic breathing exercises, etc. The nurse told us that we should practice our kegel exercises and our breathing at odd times during the day. She told the daddies they could help by telling the mommies "You are having a contraction now!" while we are in the shower, or when we least expect it so we can practice our breathing and relaxation anywhere, anytime, because that more than likely when it will happen. So for the rest of day, as we Christmas shopped, drove home, got ready for bed, Michael took her seriously. Except, he is more drill sergeant than labor coach. So he randomly yells: "CONTRACTION!" which makes me burst out laughing because it is impossible to take him seriously. To which he almost always responds like he's Jamie Foxx in Jarhead:"I SAID CLEANSING BREATH BITCH!"

My Harry Potter obsession

2010-11-22T11:06:00.000-05:00

I LOVE Harry Potter. I don't care who knows it. I love everything about it. I love the books, I love the characters, I love the movies. I think the sign of the Dark Lord, you know that mark the death eaters use to call him? Would make an awesome tattoo. If you are lost already, then this blog post is not for you.

I started reading the Harry Potter books before the movies came out. Book 4 The Goblet of Fire was announced and I was assistant manager at a book store. There was a big deal happening because this 4th in a series of this children's book was coming out and I did not get it. My manager, Sendy, told me the books were amazing and I should read them. I looked at her with the arrogance I usually reserve for people who read Harlequin Romance novels. "Isn't this for children?" I asked. Sendy, an avid reader and a wise woman said "Well, it's for young adults, not little kids. Just read the first one and you'll see." So I did. I finished book one in a couple of days. Then walked into my book store and bought book 2 and 3 on the spot. As soon as book 4 came out I bought it too. I have bought them all on opening weekend ever since. I have all 7 books in hardback. I have seen every movie at the theater opening weekend. I own them all on DVD.

I am not that crazy. At least I don't show up dressed in robe on opening night, or go to the book store at midnight when it's released. I just love the books and everything associated with it.

I think Daniel Radcliffe, will grow up to be an excellent James Bond. He has turned into a dashing young man.

For those who have not read these books, you should. I will say this, everyone that has mocked my love of Potter has endured the little speech Sendy gave me back in 2000: "Just read one and you'll see". Everyone who has caved and given it a try has ended up reading all of them. They are addictive. J.K. Rowling is a genius, there is no denying it. The fact that the target audience for these books are supposed to be Harry's age means that the story MUST hold the attention of a 10 year old, and that is a challenge. She said once that she saw this as one giant book divided in 7 chapters, an it shows. Now that part 1 of book 7 is out in theaters I can share some of this without feeling the guilt of ruining a story for you.

I have a master's in literature, so believe me when I say I am a book snob. I have a book club and I am known as the book club nazi for a reason. I absolutely love good story telling, it is one of my favorite things. As someone who fancies herself a writer of sorts, I must tell you, an intricate story is hard to keep. If you have ever written a short story, a paper, a report, you know what I mean. My thesis is 70+ pages and it was the hardest thing I have ever done. The Harry Potter series is around 5,000 pages depending on the edition of course. In the opening sequence of the first book, Albus Dumbledore uses a little lighter to turn off the street lights so the "muggles" would not see the half giant on the flying motorcycle bringing the chosen one baby who lived. We understand he is a wizard and that there is a lot of magic here. In the last book we find out that gadget is called a "deluminator" and that Albus wills it to Ron in his will upon his death. Yeah, for thousands of pages this little thing is never mentioned, we don't even remember it. I only know this because after Michael finished book 7 we rewatched the first movie and it was fresh in his memory and he said "Wait a minute, is Dumbledore using the deluminator?" Yeah. The books are full of this brilliance. We find out in book 6 that the magic diary on book 2 is a horacrux. The invisibility cloak Harry gets from his dead father in the first book is used over and over again, but we find out in the last book it is one of the Deathly Hallows.

The story is a stroke of genius, making up a new world, all the terminology, the twists and turns, the attention to detail, it is awe inspiring. Not to mention the fact that the story starts when Harry turns 11 and ends when he is 17. As such the storyline gets more mature and darker. Whenever I go see one of the movies I worry about the little kids watching this movie. You know some parents will just take their kids thinking its for kids not thinking about how dark this really is. What I say to these parents is this: South Park is a cartoon. Of course Harry Potter isn't South Park, but I know my 6 year old niece probably could not handle a lot of what is in these movies. No one gets killed in the first one, and in the second one Ginny almost dies. By book 3, Harry is 13 and we get it that people want him dead. In book 4 a friend dies, but he is not that close, he grows up to be a vampire anyway. In book 5 Harry looses his godfather, and in the 6th one it's Dumbledore. Book 7 is full of death. I started crying before the first 100 pages in book 7 when Harry pet owl gets it. People start dropping like flies and the book gets to a very dark place by the end of the series. It is brilliant because it is a gradual process, in which by the end death is not such a hard thing for a kid to read about.

Draco Malfoy already looks like a James Bond villain.

The movies get darker too. If, like Linda, you saw one and two and weren't impressed and just stopped watching, I would encourage you to revisit them. Obviously 1 and 2 were made for the 11 and 12 year old crowd. By book 3 when he is 13 it gets edgier. Each one is darker.

I went to see the seventh movie in the theater this weekend. It was very dark. If you have not read the books and have only seen the movies you might be disappointed. There is no Hogwarts in this movie, and a good part of it is spent between Harry, Ron and Hermione on the run. It starts strong, gets a little slower in the middle and then ends with a bang. What you have to keep in mind is that the movie ends half way through the seventh book, so a lot of this is set up for the grand finale.

The last movie, The Deathly Hallows part 2 is going to have a lot of action. There will be a war, and a lot of people will die. I am preparing myself emotionally for the fact that I will undoubtedly cry through the whole thing. It has nothing to do with the pregnancy. I have cried at the end of most of these movies. Every time I see Sirius Black go through that arch, or Dumbledore fall after the Avada Kedavra curse...I get teary eyed just thinking about it. And I should probably point out I have seen them several times. Sobs, every time. Michael is sitting right next to me. Chuckles, every time. I look at him indignantly "How dare you laugh at a time like this?!" One day I will use the cruciatus curse on him.

I also want to mention the parade of A list actors that are in this series: Kenneth Branaugh, Alan Rickman, Emma Thompson, Gary Oldman, Ralph Fiennes and on and on. I hate Helena Bonham Carter because she killed Sirius Black and she is so bloody good as Bellatrix Lestrange. It does not help that Michael thinks she is drop dead sexy as the mad woman. He challenged me to find a sexier female villain. I thought of Famke Janssen from that 007 when she kills a man with her thighs...but he still prefers Helena. I hate her! She killed Sirius...

I keep thinking back to what role could Sean Connery play in the saga. I mean, he should be there somewhere...

I love Harry Potter. Read the books for they are better than the movie (as is usually the case). There is so much that never makes it into the movies. Just try the first one, you'll see...

Ouch!

2010-11-17T13:22:00.000-05:00

OK, so I had my first official "I'm scared, let's go to the emergency room" moment in my pregnancy. From what I hear, many first time moms have them. If you or someone near you never had one, then congratulations, you are in the minority.

I want to start out by stating that I am fine, and so is Baby Sofia _____ Davis (Ayala). I am, however in pain, so I guess it sucks to be me. I had a great weekend. I managed to make it to my book club in Athens, saw some friends, had some cake, all is well. Monday morning I get up and I have this nagging pain in my lower abdomen on the right side. I think nothing of it because pregnancy so far has been full of aches and pains so I figure it will go away. Unfortunately, as the day progresses so does the pain.

By the end of the day I am having a hard time getting up from my chair, getting out of the bucket seat in the car seems impossible, and getting up a short flight of steps becomes a chore. Not to mention lifting my legs to get in and out of the tub. I lay down for a bit and read, have my dinner, watch some TV (The Walking Dead- AMC, Awesome!) Finally I realize this is not getting any better so I call the 24 hour nurse hotline for advice. I figure if I am being paranoid she will tell me to take two Tylenol and go to bed. Well she doesn't. She says I am 24 weeks pregnant, and if I have been in pain for the whole day and it's getting worse I need to go to an urgent care facility: better safe than sorry.

Out in Elbert County we don't have those fancy urgent care thingys, so it's the ER for me. Michael and I decide, OK, let's do it. I'm scared! What if there's something wrong with baby girl? Michael assures me it is all fine and the nurse is just afraid of getting sued. I figure, it shouldn't take too long. After all, this is a tiny county. How long can it take?

Three hours later, after being poked and prodded, I'm no closer to an answer. They have taken my urine, taken my blood, and given me a cervical exam (more than Michael and I were bargaining for that night) and basically all the doctor can tell me is that they have ruled out all the biggies. Which I guess is a start. No infections, no appendicitis, I'm not showing signs of labor, yadda yadda yadda. He did call my OB, and my OB was satisfied with the ER docs assessment so they said "go home and rest, and call your OB for an appointment in the morning."

The cast of characters at the hospital was definitely interesting. The front desk clerk was Betty White old. Nice, but very very slow. The nurse was really nice, but then again I do believe there is a special place in heaven for nurses and middle school teachers. I was told at the front desk that she had been an OB nurse for 20 years, which was very reassuring. Our doctor was a chubbier Andre Braugher (Men of a Certain Age, House, Homicide)- though I barely spoke to him, which is just as well. He has seen more of me than I care to revisit. Granpa Marsh (see South Park "Kill me Billy!") was in the next room constantly trying to make a run for it. And perhaps my favorite was the medical technician who seemed proud of being a vampire. She took four vials of my blood and for the whole time spoke about how people discriminate against "her kind". She joked about the coffins, and the having a night job and such. She was also stricken by Michael's veiny arms: a dream come true to her kind.

I had a miserable night. I don't get to bed until midnight. I already can't sleep on either my stomach or my back, now I can't sleep on my right side because that too hurts. You try sleeping on your left side all night without getting sore, or moving around out of habit in a sleepy state only to be awoken by a sharp pain...of a kick in the gut by a tiny southern rican.

We go see the doctor in the morning, and he says "talk to me like you're in the ER. Everything was fine until..." and Michael says "...she married me." LOL He is so funny! Anyway, I recount my story and he says lay back and goes toward my belly and says "It hurts right here, doesn't it?" and touches on the tender spot on my belly. It's like he's a magician. He tells me all about the round ligament, and how it aches occasionally when pregnant, but I seemed to have pulled it and so it hurts a lot. He says, in a nutshell, that there is nothing I can do for it but take it easy, that it will go away in 2-3 weeks if I take care of myself. No drugs to take, nothing to do about it, it's normal but not common, don't worry, baby is fine. We did get to hear her heartbeat again - which is always cool.

I feel better knowing I am not a wus, this is some painful crap, but it is not going to hurt my baby at all and I just have to bear it. Take it like a woman. She is moving around a lot now, and now when she kicks me I feel it in a pulled ligament. Nice. Michael can not only feel her move, but see it on my stomach which is very Sci Fi. It really puts me at ease that my doctor would see me right away, and could tell me my baby is fine. Michael and I left the doctor's office, got some Thai, went back to work.

I am in a constant state of discomfort- which is better than being in a constant pain- but I am frequently in pain as well. My kitten wants to sit on my stomach and doesn't understand why she can't. Coughing hurts, sneezing hurts, and worse yet, laughing hurts - which is a problem because Michael is constantly making me laugh in an effort to cheer me... wait...hmmmm. Well, he says he is trying to make me feel better anyway. I can't do much walking and I am as slow as they come right now...but hey, Baby Sofia is fine and that is what matters!

Pregnancy... baby blog

2010-10-30T20:57:00.001-04:00

OK, so I want to warn those of you who are not interested in all this to skip this blog entry. I understand there are some out there who are not too interested in the whole "creating life" thing. For me, it consumes me for obvious reasons.

I am now 22 weeks pregnant. My due date is March 5th for those of you who can't do math or don't care to... but I feel strongly that I will have a February baby. I write this as I watch the Georgia Florida game...it's not going too good... I tell you this because it is my intention to post some pictures, and even though I am huge, I am currently wearing non pregnancy clothes. OK, so it's a GA T shirt and sweats but still: Go me!

Not very attractive, I know...

My first trimester felt a little like torture. I realize I am very lucky that I only threw up once towards the end of the trimester. However, I was nauseous all the time. ALL THE TIME! For the men out there, or the women who have not been blessed with pregnancy yet, believe me, it was pretty awful.

I was quite hormonal as well. Poor Michael had no idea what to do with me. Lunch time was the worse. I would regularly cry during my lunch break. Sometimes out of a sudden sadness, sometimes out of frustration, sometimes just because. Once or twice I cried because I was hungry but had no appetite for anything. It is an odd feeling. The good news is after a good cry I was usually ready for the afternoon. Michael just made it a habit of opening his arms in the kitchen as we were deciding what to eat and holding me for 5 minutes while I boo hoo'ed on his shoulder. What else can the man do?

After the nausea went away came the head aches. Every day. My OB had warned me about the frequent head aches between week 14-19 but I just didn't realize he meant one every day. It was a nuisance, but still not as bad as the nausea so I was happy. Then came the the tendinitis. For a short period of time, my wrists ad forearms were achy. The Dr. said all he could say was that is was not Carpel Tunnel, that he figures it was a case of pregnancy tendinitis and that it will come and go. Sorry, no drugs in my current state.

I went to Puerto Rico for a much needed break. When I came back I was 19 weeks, my headaches had gone away and so had the tendinitis. Some may say it was just time for me to reach what is known as the "pregnancy honeymoon", but I am convince i was the family time in the tropics.

side view

Anyway, Michael and i have been trying out names. We have not decided on anything for sure, but we are leaning towards Sofia ______ because we cannot agree on a middle name. Sofia, comes from the Greek meaning wisdom, and it is pronounced the same in English and in Spanish. Muy importante. So we welcome any middle name suggestions you people may have to contribute. But please, no negative feedback on Sofia. That may be her name forever and you may not want to be known as the jerk who criticised our baby girl's name.

We have purchased a crib, and a small dresser/changing table. I am proud to announce the table is put together. The crib however is still in the box. Hopefully next week when Michael is off we will get it done.

I am getting bigger and bigger every day. I am now 150 lbs.-the most I have ever weighed in my life and I am but half way there. Michael says I am cute, but I am carrying his baby so he sort of has to say that. I find that on some days I definitely glow, on those days I constantly say out loud "I am one gorgeous mama". But on most days I think I just look fat and tired. That is because I am fat and tired...

I felt the baby move shortly after I returned from Puerto Rico, so I would have been 20 weeks or so. Michael and I were reading in bed and I felt a tiny pop in my stomach that I was not sure if it was her, or just gas. Late that night when I was up in bed I felt a "pop pop pop" and realized it was her. That morning I told Michael that either she was kicking me or I swallowed a pop corn machine. To which Michael responded " I might have slipped one of those into your morning eggs yesterday."

Then at some point last week the real kicks started. I can still feel the small pops, but every once in awhile I feel a power kick. I like to picture her in my womb like Beatrix Kiddo (a.k.a. The Bride - come on people, you need to watch more movies). Michael says she is obviously extremely bright because she knows exactly where my bladder is. It is definitely strange to feel her moving and kicking in there. It still does not happen very frequently so at times I am taken aback by the "Thump!" inside me. I was eating pizza the other day and she just started kicking like Jackie Chan. I thought it was a sign she would love pizza as I do, but now she just kicks whenever I am eating.

There are a lot of adjustments to be made during pregnancy. For one, it is getting harder for me to put on my shoes and get out of bed. One terrible side effect is heart burn- which I just had for the first time. It was so odd, that I did not even know what it was. All I know is I woke up in the middle of the night and threw up a little in my mouth. Yeah, you read correctly. It freaked me out. At 1 am I found myself thinking about that dude in AC/DC that died from chocking on his own vomit. Michael later reminded me of John Bonham too. I mean, I had heard about heartburn and pregnancy, but how was I supposed to know it has little to do with your heart burning.

Oh! And my belly button is on it's way out. Look:

The thing is huge!

I used to have a lovely in-ey...it's coming out fast and I hope it goes back in after baby. Also, you may also notice that the infamous "linea negra' is starting to form. Eventually I should have a dark line of hair on my belly, which is quite common for us pregnant ladies who are not anglo... but it goes away after baby so I'm OK.

One really good thing that is happening is how nice people are to me. On my trip to Puerto Rico people were unbelievably nice to me at the airport. Just today I was right in front f this couple looking at movies and I was totally blocking their line of sight. When I realized it I apologized and they were like "Oh, no you are fine! When are you due?" I think I could be a total asshole and people will be like "Oh look how cute: A pregnant asshole!" It's pretty cool.

Here are some more belly pics for those of you who care:

PiGi... we think.

2010-10-25T10:53:00.000-04:00

Wow...I have seriously neglected the blog. I have been busy though, as those of you closer to me know. I was in Puerto Rico for 9 days visiting with my parents and brothers and nieces. It was a nice calm time. Forcibly calm, since I am pregnant and do not drink, there was no clubbing or Medallas for me. Plus, we had record rainfall during that week so there was not much beach time either. Kano and I managed to sneak in one beach morning before the rain hit which was fabulous. Otherwise, it was rain all the time. We actually broke the record for most rain in a years time the first week of October - ever. Or at least since they have been keeping records. Some areas got 15 inches of rain in 5 days. Yeah... But it was a good time nevertheless. My Mami spoils me terribly on regular trips, try to imagine the spoiling going on when I'm pregnant.

El Kano, Mami, me, Lucho & Papi in the back. Andrea and Camila modeling in the front. This is the best we could do all together...check out my dad's t shirt for the baby shower. :)

My mom and aunt had a baby shower for me. Most of my high school buddies and some family members came by. It was a good time and my baby girl got some clothes and money which is always good.

Michael seemed to enjoy my absence at first. He was back to his bachelor days... watching whatever he wanted on the TV, eating and drinking without concern for anyone else, probably relieved to not have a pregnant woman complaining about something all the time... But that only lasted about 4 days and then things started falling apart. I won't bore people with the details of it but the big one is he lost my cat. Now, it could have happened to anyone at anytime. When a door does not latch well and stays open... shit happens. But it happened to Michael and it happened in my absence so now I feel like I can't leave him alone again. Maybe that was his plan? It will be three weeks tomorrow since Vito went on his country adventure and still no sign of him. The good news is that there are no dead cats on the roads around us. The bad news is we are deep in the country and he could be anywhere back in the 100+ acres that are our back yard. There are stray cats out there, one that we suspect is his mother, so I like to think his cat family lives back there and he has reunited with them and has gone wild. Maybe when it gets really cold he'll come back to us, but for now we have made peace with the fact that Vito has left us, though we miss him terribly.

No one misses him more than Carlito. Carlito was home that faithful day when Michael came home for lunch to realize the door had not shut behind him. Carlito was in bad shape. At first aggressive, then very needy. So much so that Michael allowed him to spend the night in our room. For the year and a half we have had Carlito he rarely meowed, but he started meowing after his brother left. He was needier at first, rubbing up against us more, following us around the house, coming to sit on the couch more. But then he just seemed depressed. Staring out the window more, not eating his wet food. So we made the decision responsible pet parents make: it's time to get him another cat.

I search the local pound and shelters online. I called my friend at the vet office, I looked all over petfinder.com... looking for the perfect companion for my Carlito. We finally decided to take a trip to Pet Supplies Plus on Saturday afternoon because we knew some local shelter would be there showing rescued pets. And it was there we met our new little girl.

We knew we did not want an older cat because we feared a big territorial fight. We also knew a tiny kitten wouldn't do because Carlito can be aggressive, so we needed a young cat that could hold his or her own. Michael said we should not seek out another black cat out of respect for Vito... but he really just wanted a white cat so he could name him "Benny Blanco from the Bronx" to go with Carlito Brigante... Ignoring that Benny kills Carlito but that's neither here nor there... The reality is when you go looking for a pet the pet sort of chooses you, and whatever preconceived idea you had goes out the window because the chemistry is either there or it isn't. The shelter ladies had a large short haired white cat that looked like a white Vito. Looked right, but he didn't take to me at all, so that one is out. There was this cute little black boy that had the cutest white mark on his nose and white paws that took to Michael... exactly what he said he didn't want: another black cat.

This is her, sitting but asleep on the couch between me and Michael.

The lucky new member of the family turned out to be a five month old female white and tabby spunky little thing. They named her Jazzy, as a fitting description of her personality. She was affectionate, and a little hyper. Took to me and to Michael. Cute as a button so we decided we'd take her home. She was hard to resist, as most kittens are. Michael called her DJ Jazzy Jeff for a little while, but it didn't seem right.

"Who is this new creature?"

We took her home and Carlito did not know what to do with her at first. There was a little hissing from him, so we decided to chaperon them for the time being. I tried talking to Carlito about it, telling him this little girl will be his new sister or girlfriend, who knows? To which Michael responded: "It doesn't matter which because we are in the south." LOL Those jokes never get old... In any case, Carlito had his reservations about this new creature in his home. She however, did not. Coming from an animal shelter, I am sure she was used to the hissing and the drama of new cats coming together. She paid him no mind. She was exploring her new home and was excited to have one. If only she had a name...

We have tried every name (movie related of course) we could think of. Penny Lane, Gina, Beatrix Kiddo, Ripley, Elvira, Benny Blanco (why not), Pachanga, Jen Yu, Puchi, Honey Rider, Pussy Galore, Mulan, Anita, Mia Wallace, Margo Channing you name it. We couldn't find any that matched her personality. We are going with PiGi for now to see if it fits. It was Michael's idea and I am not going to explain it here but I hope you guys are smart enough to figure it out. Bragging points will be awarded to those who can name every movie from which the previous names came from...

It's been almost two days now and Carlito and PiGi said hello this morning (when Michael freed her from her isolation chamber - a.k.a. the guest room) by touching noses and not hissing at each other. We have left them unattended this morning with the run of the house, Michael will check on them to make sure they are both alive and no one has lost an eye. They spent the whole day together yesterday, and there were few hisses and confrontations. They have yet to take a swipe at each other so I think they will be OK. This morning at breakfast we noticed there was some chasing going on, but it was playful.

I know this is more than most of you wanted to know about our cats...but it is what was on my mind and what has been happening in the country rican household so there you have it.

The baby has started kicking too, but you can't really have a whole blog about the sensation in your stomach when you first realize there is a baby moving inside of you, or when she gives you a swift round house for the first time... so I figured I'd spare you all that.

"I am here to stay...deal with it!"

It's a girl!

2010-09-29T10:34:00.000-04:00

Yes, folks, yesterday Michael and I found out that in fact we are having a girl. I am very upset about this, because everyone knows little girls belong to their dads. It is not fair... after all my cats have already abandoned me for Michael, now this...

Of course I am kidding. I found the whole thing comical yesterday. Especially the part where I have to watch my husband struggle with the news. Anyone that knows Michael knows that he will be completely taken by a baby girl, but he doesn't seem to know that yet. Thank God for the technology because he has 22 weeks to get used to the idea. After all, we watched "Bend it like Beckham" last weekend (which he had not seen before) and towards the end was very emotional stating that if we had a little girl she would watch this movie as soon as she was old enough to follow it. Girl power all the way! But I digress...

I was ecstatic, because my doctor is awesome. He is so into babies it is cute. After 27 years of practicing medicine he really does make you feel like your baby is the first he has seen. I would like to thank Cheri Bliss publicly once again for recommending Dr. Goggin to me. Anyway, back to the ultrasound. The doctor is chatting us up, asking about how I feel, my health blah blah blah, let's cut to the chase. He asked us about how many brothers and sisters we each had, how many brothers and sisters Michael's dad had, apparently in an effort to guess but we made it tough for him. It was clear we preferred a boy. Michael because he is a man who doesn't know what a blessing a girl will be in his life, and the whole Davis name thing. Me, simply because I grew up with brothers and have three nieces, I felt it was time for more testosterone. But really, the main concern is the health of the baby.

The doctor starts poking around at the baby, checking for any signs of developmental issues and he is excited about how healthy and normal she looks. "This is one healthy baby" he says. I can breathe a sigh of relief now. He checks the head, the nasal bone, the humerus or whatever it's called, and announces that this is an awesome baby, healthy in every visible way on a 18 week ultrasound. Whew! Thank God! Now we can fun right? Right...

Obviously, she is a looker!

The doctors body language gets a little tense as he starts examining what in Puerto Rico we call "la tablilla" or "the tags". Michael says "it's a girl" just by judging the doctors mood shift. I start laughing. I'm tickled. He could've said it's a vampire and I probably would have giggled. The doctor says "it looks like a girl but I'm not done". He pokes the wand thingy around some more and concludes without a doubt "Oh yeah, this is a girl!" Michael, well rehearsed, says "Awe. Daddy's little girl". I tell the doctor I had previously warned him about cursing in the doctor's office. We all have a laugh.

We start with the commentary. She is a wiggly little thing. Moving around like a break dancer. Michael says "God, I'm already worried about her getting pregnant". The doctor laughs and says "I hear ya', I got two girls myself." It is all very comical to me. I am focused on how big she has gotten since the 11 week ultrasound. Her head and her big round belly. The technology is truly amazing.

Look at her profile!

After the doctor Michael and I got eat. We called our mothers who both laughed, because that is what mothers do. Then we started sending text messages to people, too many to call one on one. The responses are funny. Michael is a little gloomy. Talking about how he does not know what he will do with a girl. Worried about a culture that encourages little girls to be "whores in training" as he puts it. The bad influences. Here's another good Michael quote " I am concerned that most of the world will consider my girl a suitable sexual partner by the age of 12." Yeah.

I assure him that it is up to us that she will not be a whore in training. Later on I tell him that really there is nothing he would do with a son that he could not or should not do with a daughter. He can't think of anything either. So yes, she will be out there hunting and fishing, working out and watching college football. The conversation took a true feminist turn. He will do his best to make sure she is good in science and math. None of this "Girls aren't as good in math" for his little girl. "Lisa, you have to let your friends and family know we don't want all this girly pink crap". She needs a microscope, books, physics books at that. I sit there amused. Of course I agree. If it were a boy the same applies. A parent should have the same expectations of their child, gender specific stuff bugs me too. I tell him I'm with him. Yeah some pink is nice. A dress or two, but just because she's a girl does not mean we need to focus on appearance and fashion. Intellect, ideas, personal development, character, that's what's important, right? He then slips into talk of chastity belts and I tune him out a bit.

I like to lie in this position too.

She has a strong backbone... I think she's an Ayala!

We visited with Page and Rob and their 3 day old son Collin. Collin is just precious. With his brand new baby smell, a full head of hair and the McCorkle nose... Michael and I start teasing Rob and Page that they better keep their little boy away from our little girl. Michael does own a few guns you know... And so it begins...

From further away...look at the fat belly and big head!

My dear husband

2010-09-20T11:54:00.001-04:00

My Michael is turning 37 years young this Thursday. I know I am a bit biased, but he looks freakin' fantastic! I'm not kidding. If I could get him to pose for a sexy pic I'd post it on here for you guys to admire his body of work (so to speak). But maybe you guys just have to trust me on this one...

As some of you know he has been trying to do the Paleo diet. This is responsible for the quick fat loss he's experienced without a doubt, but I still think it is unhealthy and a bit cultish. Anyway, he has a blog where he has talked about such things... in case you didn't know it's Southern Fried Paleo http://southernfriedpaleo.blogspot.com/2010/08/beefcakebeefcake.html

Michael's cabbage, zuchinni and onion dish...

When I say "trying" I mean he does his best to follow it. I, however, am stubborn and pregnant and refuse to join in. So while he is buying spinach by the pound and wilting it with red cabbage (which stinks by the way...) I am ordering Domino's, buying caramel ice cream and double stuffed Oreos. It is not that I am trying to sabotage his efforts, it's that my effort of creating life is much more important, and so I win.

His other obsession is working out. He has decided he will do all the named CrossFit workouts as Rx'd by my due date of March 5th. For those of you who do not know about CrossFit, I don't know what to tell you. The Paleo diet is cultish, CrossFit is a cult. I was referring to it as a cult long before a column in the New York Times did. Even before Michael purchased the documentary "Every Second Counts" in which the avid fans admit it is a cult, "but a good cult." Anyway, the workouts are intense, very difficult, frequently done for time. To learn more visit: http://www.crossfit.com/cf-info/what-crossfit.html Rest assured I am not trying to promote this thing, I want you to be in awe of it's lunacy and understand what I put up with when my husband walks in the door all sweaty and says "I just did Fran". The workouts are named after women (for no particular reason other than sexism- as far as I know) and for soldiers and first responders KIA. It is quite touching to read the story of some poor twenty-something staff sgt killed before his time in Afghanistan, and it always moves me a little to see that these crazy work out junkies are doing what they can to honor them. It goes without saying that Cross Fit is ridiculously popular among military, police, fire fighters, etc.

Which is why it is cool that they do this charity thing that Michael is now participating in, on his birthday weekend. It's been going on for 5 years now, and they have raised over 2 million dollars, which as Michael put it, it's not Oprah big, but still significant. To read more about the charity itself go here:

http://www.fgb5.org/rules To understand what the hell "Fight Gone Bad" is go here:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=1471175174570526588# If you can stand the whole video, you can see it is kind of an inside joke amongst crossfit people and the UFC. In any case, it is a crazy workout. But the fact that so many people are willing to do it to raise money for these charities is pretty cool.

On a cute side note, when I was working out to get in shape for our wedding, Michael designed a cross fit type workout for me. As many of you know I am a weakling, and in no way shape or form could I ever do any of these as prescribed. He adjusted "Fight Gone Bad" for me and renamed it "Minor Scuffle Gone Bad". I can't remember who I told about this that thought the amazing part of the story was not that he redid one for me, but that he renamed it. LOL You can throw up now.

Anyway, Michael has a touch of OCD, so he takes this working out business very seriously. He has slowly built himself a gym in the warehouse of the green house where he has everything from weights with rubber plates, to a climbing rope, kettle bells, you name it. It is without a doubt the best gym in Elbert County.

Why am I telling you this? Well I love my husband. He can be a pain in the ass, and he denied me my first pregnancy craving (which he will pay for for the rest of his life), but he really works hard. Not only does he work hard in our business day to day, but he works hard at working out, and then he comes home and puts up with a whiny pregnant wife who sometimes makes him eat his food at another table so she won't smell it, or refuses to cook certain things for him, or just plain cries for no apparent reason. Plus, he is terribly hot!

His birthday is this Thursday, and he has to make his fund raising goal in just one week, because like most men, he decided he was doing this one week before the event- leaving him little time. I figure the least I can do is help spread the word to help him reach his goal, after all it is for charity...

To help Michael reach his goal, go here:

https://rapidgiving.com/fundraising/page/9456/michaels-fundraising-page

Oh! And I'll take pictures of him actually doing the work out at the event, so we an all embarrass him with comments about his muscles...

Michael cooking his paleo crap (looking good doing it too!)

The movie project

2010-09-03T11:43:00.000-04:00

This blog is all about movies. If you are not a freak like me, you might want to skip it...

About a year ago Michael and I decided we would re watch all of our movies. OK, I decided to and Michael agreed. You see, we are movie freaks and have an extensive collection. However, there are still quite a few movies he owns that I have not seen and vice versa. Those of you who know my movie taste know that I am certainly not a girlie girl when it comes to movies. Here is when growing up with a father who loved TV and movies, and two brothers comes into play. My mom could go through life without watching TV or going to the movies, so her influence here is null. When it comes to movies, I admit it, I am a guy. I'd rather watch anything by Quentin Tarantino than a romantic comedy any day of the week and twice on Sundays. I have seen the holy trilogies of Start Wars and The Godfather more than I can reasonably count. There are days when nothing but a scary, or violent movie will do. I ♥ every gangster movie I have even seen. You get the picture.

But I must draw the line somewhere. I sat through Kurosawa's "Seven Samurai" once, all three hours or so...AND the American interpretation "The Magnificent Seven" more than once. I have not however sat through "Yojimbo"... lucky for me our movies are alphabetized. Don't get me wrong, I mean no disrespect to Kurosawa. I love "Dreams". I recognize he was a genius in his time and all that good stuff. I'm just not that much of a guy.

Anyway... just how many movies do we have? I am not sure...somewhere in the neighborhood of 400? You see I am a freak and there is a librarian named Enid who lives inside of me, so my movies have all been cataloged in an Excel spreadsheet and alphabetized accordingly. However, when Michael and I married and moved in together there was work to be done. He had a good amount of movies, in no particular order. I alphabetized his movies once when we will still dating. What happened was as he decided to re watch one he'd pull it out and put it back wherever. (he does the same thing with his books btw- mine are generally in some rational order). I alphabetized all our movies when I purchased these cool racks for them with a wedding gift card that I believe came from Brian and Jess (congratulations on the engagement again!), but I never got around to updating the database. When I decided we would re watch them all again, I started updating the database as we reached a new letter of the alphabet. I estimate that by 2012 we will be done. Especially since we continue to buy more.

We are currently re watching "The Departed". Not Martin Scorsese's best work but as is the case for many greats it is the one that earned him the Oscar for Best Director. Anyway, I love the cast, Michael loves the soundtrack, you get the idea. This means that we are in the beginning of the "d" section. ( I would have put it in the "t" section, but that is a subject for another blog). I know what you are thinking. "It's been a year and you are still in the ds?!" I know.

*In my best Iñigo Montoya accent* "Let me explain. There's no time. Let me sum up"

We have A LOT of movies! And, Tammy gave us a year subscription to Netflix as a wedding present (by far the best gift as far as originality goes). Every once in a while we buy a movie and have to watch it then and there. Like "Inglorious Basterds". Or Michael needs some horror and we watch Rob Zombie's "Halloween" again. Has anyone seen this? Disturbing, right? But as far as horror movies goes... it is awesome! When we watched "Casino Royale" Michael had to skip to "Dr. No" because he was in a "Bond mood". At this point we had to create a new rule. Since I am keeping a database of when we watch each movie, if it's less than a year before we reach it in it's appropriate slot we have the right to skip it at that point. This has not happened yet but we watched Dr. No in March and I guess we will get there again in October, maybe? I suspect Michael will make me watch it again. He loves that movie. Oh! "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince". When we got that one we not only watched it, we went back and watch the two previous ones to really get in the "Potter mood". We have read all the books too, they are just so good. I plan to re read them all again once I have seen all the movies. Then, I'll re watch all the movies again. Tee hee!

Then there are TV dvds mixed in here too. For instance, "Band of Brothers". For those of you who do not know, it was an HBO mini series about a company in World War II and it is fantastic. It is ten episodes though, so it took some time, you know? We run a business you know, and there is laundry and cooking and reading and the stuff that real life is made of. For Valentine's Day Michael bought me "The West Wing". The complete series! God I love that show. I am a book worm, a movie freak, and a politics junkie. The writing on this show is superb. It won a gazillion Emmys. The guest stars, the acting, the intelligent witty conversation...Did I mention it went on for 7 seasons? We took an extensive break from the movie project to watch all 7 seasons and when we were done Michael wanted to start over but we didn't.

Just in case you still can't grasp the picture of what an enormous project this is here is the list of what we have watched so far:

3:10 to Yuma

8 Mile

12 angry men

21 Grams

28 Days Later

A Beautiful Mind

A Bug's Life

A Fistful of Dollars

A Midsummer Nights Dream

A Streetcar Named Desire

Airplane!

All About Eve

Alladin

Almost Famous

Amadeus

Amelie

America's Sweethearts

American Beauty

American History X

Amores Perros

Anotomy of a Murder

Animal House

The Aviator

Back to the future

Back to the future II

Back to the future III

Band of Brothers

Bandidas

Basic Instinct

Batman Begins

Beaches

The Big Chill

Black Christmas

Black Hawk Down

Blade

Blade II

The Blues Brothers

The Boondock Saints

The Bourne Identity

Boyz N The Hood

Braveheart

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Bridge to Teribethia

Bull Durham

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

Carlito's Way

Casablanca

Casino

Casino Royal

The Cell

Chasing Amy

Children of a Lesser God

Cinema Paradiso

Citizen Kane

City of Angels

Close Encounters of the Third Kind

Contact

Cool Hand Luke

Cop Land

Courage Under Fire

Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon

Dances with Wolves

Dangerous Liaisons

The Dark Knight

Dead Poets Society

The Departed

Before I say a little something about the movies per se, that is 67 movies. We get at least one movie a week through Netflix so in one year that is approximately 52 more, and there are breaks for the Dr. Nos and The West Wings and Inglorious Basterds and Harry Potters. This is why we are still in the D's people! We have been watching 2-4 movies a week minimum. I don't think we can do any better. I mean, unless we give up reading or something... I will like to point out that I religiously watch at least 10 tv shows as well. Thank God for the DVR!

"Bandidas" is by far the worse of this list. It is Michael's movie. He was blinded by Salma and Penelope on the cover. I forgive him for this major infraction of movie ethics because they are after all beautiful Latin women. Michael is still complaining about "Beaches" but at least this is a good movie. I understand it is not his cup of tea, but it is still good. He will soon have to sit through "Dirty Dancing" which I view as my revenge for the fact that I will have to sit through a few seasons of "Highlander". I have to say it: "Nobody puts baby in a corner".

All the westerns are Michael's. I don't have anything against them, but my dad loved them and I figure I paid my western dues a long time ago. I respect Clint Eastwood though. And look forward to re watching "Unforgiven". Truth be told, other than "Bandidas" none of these has been too painful for me. We'll see what I have to say when we reach the "South Park" section. Sigh, there is only so much of Cartman a girl can take... In case you are wondering, I am a girl. Michael will have to watch "The Little Mermaid", "Pretty Woman", and ah yes: six seasons of "Sex in the city" baby!

In my defense, how many girls do you know own the following movies: "The Godfather trilogy", "Scarface", "Fight Club" and everything Quentin Tarantino touched? I could watch Pulp Fiction once a month. So before you men out there pity Michael for having to watch "Mulan" and "How Stella got her Groove Back" think about the fact that I will be ready to make some pop corn and sit down through Scarface with him with gusto. This is not easy by the way, because he says all the lines with Tony and Manny.

"I kill a communist for fun, but for a green card, I gonna carve him up real nice."

On being the other

2010-08-22T13:25:00.000-04:00

The concept of "the other" is something that is studied in school in history, sociology, literature, psychology and a whole bunch of other fields. I don't remember ever hearing about it until I was an undergrad in Mayaguez majoring in Political Science. At that time, a Puerto Rican studying at one of the campuses of the University of Puerto Rico (the best one, btw) it was hard to feel my "otherness". In the only way I could truly relate was in being female in a male centric world, especially in such a sexist Latin society. Alas, I was a feminist. Really, my brother would say I was a femi-nazi because I was a bit extreme at times, I admit it.

Later, when I moved to Georgia I realized what it really meant to be "the other". All of a sudden I was considered "a minority" because I was Hispanic, something I never really had to face before. It is not like I sat around thinking about it. Truth be told with a name like Lisa, and such fair skin most people in meeting me assumed I was white, so I can't say I felt that different most days. Georgia does not have a large Hispanic community- other than Mexican so once people found out I was Puerto Rican they really did not know what to do with me because they had no point of reference. I try not to think about the scores of stereotypes that must flash through their heads, but I always do my best to break stereotypes so I am not too worried about it. When your last name is Ayala, you cannot escape your otherness in this society. Latin people recognize Ayala immediately as one of their own, but other cultures do not know what to do with it. Most Anglos do not know how to say it initially, and you know they wish you had an easier name to pronounce like "Lopez". The first real "other" shock came when working in Russell Hall post Olympics in 1996 and my friend Juancho was visiting. He stop by my work to get the house keys, and as we do we spoke the whole time in Spanish. The young girls in the office all stopped and watched. I was the only Hispanic there, so both the white girls and the black girls were stunned. When Juancho left one asked "Um... are you just really good at that? what's the deal?" I said of course I'm good at that I am Puerto Rican, my Spanish is better than my English. After that day the white girls were a bit more distant, the black girls more friendly. I was offended by both of them. I don't want my Ricanness to make you like me more or less, you know?

As I have matured, and lived in many places I have embraced my otherness more. I realize now that I have always been the other in most groups. I was that girl with the coke bottle glasses who got picked on a lot. When we moved to Puerto Rico I started the third grade and I was obviously "newyorican" and my spanglish was evident. It didn't stop me from making friends, but I have been correcting English homework all my life. My father was an atheist and we were never taken to church. This suits me fine now, and I believe my dad did me a huge favor by allowing me to grow into my own belief system rather than forcing one on me. However, when I was 7 my girlfriends were all in the same catechism class and they were getting white dresses and rosaries and practicing for the first communion and I wanted desperately to do it too. I asked my dad, and he said very plainly "We don't believe in that. If you want to do it when you are older, you can." End of story. Well, religion- or lack of religion - just made me an "other" to my classmates.

So I now see that I was the other throughout my life, and I appreciate it. It has definitely affected my world view. I usually root for the underdog, I can't help it. I strongly believe that the majority should not impose itself on the minority, and I will always stand up for the little guy. As far as I am concerned my sexuality is the only area of my life in which I have always been in the majority. The way I see it it would be terribly hypocritical of me to make homosexuals feel like less because they are in the minority, and so I will stand up for gay rights anywhere, anytime. Their love is as valid as mine and they should be able to live in society and express it as I do, end of argument.

When I hear about the so called "ground zero mosque" which is neither a mosque nor at ground zero, my blood starts to boil. It is so plainly discriminatory that I can barely keep my food down if I watch the news during dinner. America seems to suffer from collective amnesia, or maybe it is true that this country is so poorly educated that they just do not know the hysteria that followed Pearl Harbor that led to putting the Japanese in internment camps.

When 9/11 happened I was living in Germany, on an army base with my ex husband. I was shopping with my German friend Shawny out at a German mall, and we both got called back to base by our husbands with the "something bad is happening, get back" message. We had no way of understanding the magnitude of it all, even though Shawn was translating what the German news was saying. Once we got to the base we got scared. The regular civilian German guards were not at the gate. The Military Police was, with guns and tanks. Whole areas of the base were blocked off, most of the office and stores were closing and it was only 5 pm. I ignorantly asked a guard: "Is this because of the twin towers?" His response was: "It's not just the twin towers ma'am. It's the Pentagon, too." Gulp.

I got home, put down my bags and sat on the sofa and watched the images for the first time. Do you remember that feeling? I was scared for what would happen next. The base closed down all operations for a few days. A curfew was in place. The feel of war was all around us. German civilians were leaving flowers of support on our gates, it was all very touching and very scary. Slowly we got back to business. Security was tighter, but life must go on or the terrorist win. That's what President Bush told us, remember? A few weeks later there was already hate crimes reported against Arabs. I remember feeling a deep connection with those poor people whose only crime was to be born with an Arab last name. You see, I immediately took it to my otherness. What if the hijackers had been Cuban? Venezuelan? Puerto Rican? Then all of us would be the ones profiled. Then when a TSA agent saw an ID with the name "Sanchez" he would be suspicious.

The proposed cultural center in Manhattan should go forward because no matter how many people feel like it is "insensitive" to the victims' families, no matter how some people say it would be a slap in the face, it really is not. Muslim- Americans died in those twin towers too. There are Christian and Jewish places of worship as close as this Muslim place of worship will be. We need to honor ALL faiths regardless of the extreme elements within them. The importance of this constitution, and why is should be respected even in tough times, is because it defends us from ourselves and unintended consecuences. Your intention in opposing this center may be respect for those who lost their lives. The unintended consecuence though, is disrespecting the 1st amendment, something that should truly be sacred. Let me remind everyone one one simple fact: there are sex shops, peep shows and bars on the same block. If you think a Mosque is more offensive than a sex shop then obviously you are not being rational. I'll say this for my Michael: All places of worship are considered holy ground for the immortals like Duncan McCleod, even the Muslim ones.

Now, what I want to say is that this is connected to the talk of repealing the 14th amendment. It is not a coincidence that these debates are happening at the same time, the same time when we have a president that is not 100% white. People are scared. Most won't admit it, but they are. Good people, who are not racist or mean, are truly scared. Of what? Of the other. The have never really thought of themselves as "the other". They have always been in a safe comfortable majority and are deeply afraid to be in that minority. Maybe because they see how minorities are treated? Well let me tell you it is not easy being the other. It is not easy being the butt of jokes, it is not easy to see in some one's eyes that they like you a little less for something that you are, that you cannot avoid, or change, or would not even want to avoid or change.

I am a rare breed. I know I am in the minority most of the time, and I embrace it. I am comfortable here; I like it; I call it home. I married a southern, conservative white man! I could have changed my name to Lisa Davis and been done with it. Could have moved comfortably into the mainstream, no one would be the wiser. But I refuse. I will not give up my hard to pronounce Puerto Rican last name and blend in. Lisa Davis? How vanilla! And as the femi-nazi is still alive - why should I take his name? Why can't he take mine? No sir. I hyphenated my name because I think it has a nice cool ring to it: Ayala-Davis. And because I love him dearly and am proud to be a part of the Davis clan, but I am still in the Ayala clan and will be forever.

I think these subjects are connected because, well, I'm an other. I can feel it in my gut. If the president was not brown, all of this would sting less. I am sorry, but it is the truth. How do I know? Because President Bush said hundreds of time we were not at war with Islam, and it didn't make the news that much. Because the deficit under President Bush almost reached 500 billion, but there was not Tea Party screaming about "big government". You see, big government is only scary if the man doing the spending isn't white. (If, like Michael, you were screaming about government spending in 2005 or 2006- you get a pass on this one.) You know why else this is all ridiculous and a sign of the times? Because there is an Imam performing Islamic services at the non-denominational Pentagon Chapel since 2002. Yep. There is no official church of any kind in the Pentagon, because it has to remain non-denominational out of respect of all the service members (yes, there are Muslims dying in our Army too). But the Army has chaplains of all faiths, and they are all welcomed in this place of worship inside the Pentagon right where the plane hit, as it was built in part as a memorial to those who died. You see, no one secretly believed Bush was a Muslim, so this didn't make the news back then. I guess the Twin Towers were sacred, but the Pentagon is not.

I am a leftist on most issues, most of you know this about me. So believe me when I say President Obama has NOT been governing from the left. He has been such a centrist is makes me a little sick. I get it, he has to tread carefully. But I see it as further proof of this country's ignorance, or fear/racism that he is constantly referred to as "too far to the left". If you believe he is too far to the left, you obviously need a political education. Email me, I'll give you some reading material. If you are one of those people who is constantly saying he is too far left because you heard it on fox news, I can't help you. I, like Marc Maren (comedian, wtfpod.com, love him!) believe they call him a socialist because they cannot openly call him what they want to call him. Obviously, I am not saying that all who disagree with the president feel this way. We can agree to disagree on the issues. But those people screaming on the top of their lungs that he is not an American, who seem to have been bitten by one of the monkeys in 28 days later, those are who I speak of. This rage runs deep, so deep that most people cannot recognize where it's coming from. But the fact remains it is rooted in his race, in his background, in his otherness. Because he is not just half black, but he was raised by a white family. His father was African, not African-American. Those of us who actually know African people know how deeply and beautifully proud these people are. There is something different in Africans than in African- Americans that comes from knowing your forefathers were not slaves. There is something different when you grow up in a place that does not consider you an "other", that I know.

So, I leave you with this thought. I know most of the people who read this are friends or family members and you are all good people. Most of you are intelligent, educated people. Look at your life, I am sure you can find a circumstance in which you were "the other". It is not always obvious. It took me a long time to see my blindness as a kind of otherness. We all have them. Think about how awkward it was for that one time being in a minority and how scary it was, and try to imagine that feeling all the time. Think about Marilyn Munster, living with the Munsters, I don't care what it is, but try to relate to the difference, instead of trying to highlight it as something bad. Try to move past your prejudices, and yes we all have them. Or do you think 15 years ago I would have thought I'd be living in Elbert County Georgia? Those people probably eat Puerto Ricans for dinner...

Peppy the Parasite and his Paleo Papa

2010-08-11T19:29:00.000-04:00

For those who don't already know, my husband Michael has started blogging:
http://southernfriedpaleo.blogspot.com/
The focus of his blog is his latest obsession: the Paleo Diet, together with his obsession with Crossfit which has been going on for quite some time now. As far as obsessions go, it is a good one. I don't want to seem whiny here. Once I was complaining to my friend and former colleague Jason about how much Michael worked. He does work ALL THE TIME. At that point I believe we were engaged already and I think I told Jason something to the effect that that was really what we fought about, how he spends his time. Jason gave me that look people give you when you are insane and don't know it. "Hold on" he said. "You guys have been together for almost 4 years now and all you fight about is he works too much? You are lucky and need to check yourself." Before I wreck myself- he meant. He was right. I am lucky. Michael and I occasionally have "healthy discussions" over politics, and we used to fight about how much he worked. Now that we are married and live together we fight about food.

I know that I am lucky. He is lucky too. I mean, I have an addiction to buying books. I have more books than I know. I have a full bookcase of 4 shelves full of books I have not read or not finished. I have more in boxes scattered around the house. I am afraid that if I put all the unread books I own together Michael will divorce me. Especially because I keep buying them and refuse to part with any of them. But as far as addictions go- it's a good one. Same thing goes for Michael's obsession with working out and diet. It's not crack, it's not even porn. It is a good healthy obsession, and I know this at a rational level.

But, I am pregnant. And I will like to point out that I have always been willful when it comes to food. My mother lost her battle with getting me to eat sometime in grade school. She fought hard, but I fought harder. My brother used to make fun of me and my mom because she would make rice with veggies in it- which I really didn't like- and she would always ask the question: "Do you want rice? Or do you want mashed potatoes?" I'd always say mashed potatoes and she would proceed to make me some just for me. I know. She was an enabler ( I love you Mami) and I am terribly spoiled. This is just a little background so you can understand where I'm coming from.

So now I'm pregnant and not feeling food too much. I frequently think I want to eat something, and then I have to stop eating it halfway through because I no longer want it. I can handle raw meat and cook it, but once it's cooked I rarely feel like eating more than a bite or two. It is a problem. Smells are very intense. Michael says I'm turning into Wolverine. The idea of raw fish is more than I can handle right now. Of course, my paleo husband feels like this is the time to increase our fish consumption. Luckily, he does not complain about having to cook it himself. I just sit on the couch and cross stitch, and try hard not to smell it. I ate some of the fish he made yesterday, but I had to hold my breath while I did. It was good, and I know it was good for me, but a whiff of it and I'm done.

If you read Michael's blog you will see he has his reasons for all this. He really does believe that grains are a problem and that if I cut out the gluten my allergies and my asthma will be better. Of course, every pregnancy book/web site/ article I read says I should eat more grains so you see how this a problem. Also, I am Puerto Rican. In my country, there is a bakery on every corner and fresh bread should be purchased daily. My mom will occasionally send me some in the mail, because it is just that good- even three days old! Here is a snippet from a pregnancy article I was reading today that made me giggle:
Welcome Back, Carbs
Though pregnancy is a great time to watch what you eat, Lisa Andrews, a clinical dietitian at the VA Medical Center in Cincinnati, Ohio, says that this is not the time to be on a diet. Instead, store your Atkins book up on a shelf and reacquaint yourself with bread.http://www.pregnancytoday.com/articles/pregnancy-nutrition-and-recipes/eating-for-energy-during-pregnancy-5644/
I cannot make this stuff up!

Here's a list of some of my favorite foods that Michael does not approve of:

bakery fresh bread
saltines
ginger ale
ice cream
anything chocolate
cheese and more cheese
brown rice
beans
baked potatoes
French fries

Making French fries is too much work for me, but we were out for dinner with the family and our nephew for his birthday and Michael had something to say about my French fries, my fried shrimp, and even the high fructose corn syrup called salad dressing on my salad. My father in law offered me some duct tape for Michael's mouth, and my sister in law stood up for me telling him French fries were a pregnant woman's best friend.

I put cheese in the eggs at breakfast the other morning and he yelled out: "Are you trying to kill me?!"

In his defense, we go to the grocery store together and although he may occasionally roll his eyes when I place something else in the cart that is on his "no-no" list he has at least stopped trying to convince me to not buy them. He even drove me to the pizza place the other night because I just had to have some pizza. I am amazed at his will power though, I believe he only ate one bite of one slice. Unbelievable, right?

Basically, I am grateful for his latest obsession because he usually makes me an egg in the morning without asking me. When we are preparing dinner he has made me more than my fair share of salads, ensuring that peppy is getting what he needs. I know he wishes I would give up the ice cream, but come on folks, I already gave up wine! I mean, this isn't Guantanamo!

Barefoot and pregnant

2010-08-02T13:46:00.001-04:00

Yes, the Country Rican lives in a trailer and is in fact: barefoot and pregnant.

Remember that anniversary trip to Brevard, NC? Where Michael broke his toe (it still has not healed) and we chased waterfalls where others have died? It appears we also made a baby! Happy Anniversary to us! I have always thought of North Carolina as the best state in the union for many reasons: great schools, beaches, mountains, good weather, the second biggest financial center in the country, etc.. So let's just add one more to the list.

It is intense, and wonderful, and scary... all at the same time. I am now 9 weeks, and have known for a little over a month. Michael and I chose to keep the news to ourselves for a little bit, then told our immediate family and family of friends. It has been spreading like wildfire, and I am proud to say everyone has obeyed my wishes and it has been kept off of facebook. I really dreaded the idea of someone close to me getting the news through a facebook update. Although, some of you only read the blog when you see I post it on facebook... So if you are finding out through facebook, I am sorry. It was not my intention.

Michael is happy and excited. What follows is my recollection of his reaction- perhaps paraphrased:
   "I knew it! I told you you were pregnant!"
   "Wow! You're pregnant...we... we are pregnant."
   " Dude! I gotta start saving for college"

From there on out, the baby is referred to as "the parasite", or "Thomas Jefferson Davis" and more recently "Lucas Jackson Davis". If you do not know who Thomas Jefferson, Jefferson Davis, or Lucas Jackson were, look it up. Thank God we already used Vito Corleone and Carlito Brigante on the cats. I am sure I will be fighting the Tyler Durden battle soon.

There is no room in Michael's brain for the idea that we could have a girl. "She will bear me sons" is what he is fond of saying. Nisha and I tried to explain to him how the sex of the baby comes to be and really, how the man has more to do with it than the woman, but there was no reasoning with the man. "Nah ah! She had it last so it's on her!". Really, how can you argue with that kind of logic. In any case, biologically speaking it is still an it.

I was genuinely surprised. Although Michael and I had decided to try, we had only been trying for a month and expected this to take a lot longer. We are both 36 years old, and I truly believed I was on my last set of eggs. Michael's response to this is that he has "the Navy Seals of swimmers" and there is nothing left to say.

I am tickled. I have been humbled by the response of all I have told. The person who's face was the most priceless however, was my brother Kano. He seemed truly overjoyed and being such a softy it was evident in his face. Thank god for the web cam.

I will now like to share what Michael's best friend Gus had to say upon hearing the news:
   "What? Really!? Congratulations man! Wow! Is it wrong that I am a little sad? It's like the end of an era."
The rest of the conversation was the typical lovefest between Michael and Gus, who have shared their bromance for close to two decades. Michael consoled Gus by telling him how saddened he was by the news when Gus told him he was proposing to Nisha. Which I remembered vividly and could not believe how sad he was. Mind you, Michael adores Nisha, was best man at one of their weddings and gave a truly touching speech. A speech which included the quote from the Godfather wedding: "May your first child be a masculine child." (Gus returned the favor in his speech at our wedding). One of the best compliments, to me and to her that Michael has ever said out loud: "Gus could not have found a better girl- unless he took mine." All together now: AWE! Anyway...Men! The two of you are growing up. Embrace it! Stop fighting it!

So there you have it folks. I have not been blogging because I have been all consumed with this creating life business. I spent a good 5 weeks sick to my stomach. I am grateful that I have yet to throw up, but I do carry in my purse one of those barf bags I took from the plane on my trip to Ohio. You never know, right? I have also been terribly tired, and I have not been sleeping well. I usually am ok at work until around 4 ish, when the tiredness starts to settle in. I count myself lucky, even if my boss says I do not have maternity leave. His position is women have been having babies for a long time, and there are 7 billion people in the world so how hard can it be? My answer: Well, you can't do it! For those who don't know, my boss is also my husband and my baby daddy.

I will also like to give a shout out to my friend Glianny. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 8 year old girl, and has given me the most down to earth assessment of pregnancy I have ever heard. She also sent us some books, a giant bottle of Tylenol and a couple of tubes of Preparation H- all in an effort to prepare me for what is to come. You gotta love a friend like that.

Finally, in the words of my dear friend Jason Ratliff upon finding out I was pregnant: "Holy Sweet Mother!".

'nuff said.

Has it been three weeks?

2010-07-20T14:43:00.000-04:00

I don't know folks, time is going by too fast. I cannot believe it has been almost 3 weeks since I last blogged. I mean, I have been busy, but... it just doesn't seem like it's been so long!

Anyway, I do not have anything major going on to blog about at this time, so let me just update a couple of issues...

My brother Lucho just had a birthday. He is 38 years young. One of these days when I have nothing to write about I'll get mushy about him...

Michael and I went to Columbus Ohio for a conference. It was huge and interesting. Columbus was a nice little city, and I had great meals every day. While there I went to their "German Village" and went to a place called The Book Loft. It was awesome. 32 rooms of books...labyrinth-like. Overwhelming! Those of you who know Michael, know he can be a little shy and quiet with people when he does not know them well. This is why he browbeated me into joining the business. I have no shame. I will speak to anyone at anytime and do my best to charm them. So there we were, wandering the floor of this big expo hall with me trying my best to make every broker/sales person/rep feel like we are old friends. Michael thinks I am terribly charming and hard to resist, but then again he married me so how objective can he be? For all I know I'm a terrible bore. OK, OK... let's face it. I am too full of myself to think I'm boring but I doubt I am as good as he thinks I am.

We got stuck in Columbus for an extra night because of the Atlanta airport, which apparently makes it it's mission on earth to ruin every travellers day at some point in time. It was not so bad, but it was a nuisance to say the least. I honestly don't know how people travel regularly. Much props to my compay Gustavo who seems to go through airports at least once a week and does it gracefully. I would be suicidal.

Anway, you might notice that my blog has ads now. I have joined ad sense and I am allowing google to shamelessly advertise on my blog in an effort to get money. I am not entirely sure how to make it better, but I have noticed there are A LOT of articles out there on how to improve the quality of your ads to increase your profit. I just do not have the time or the inclination to read them. So if anyone out there reading this understands this better than I, I welcome the feed back. As it is, all I know is I authorized them to do it, and I should get a few cents for every time someone clicks on an ad from my blog. I activated it like 10 days ago, and although I have not posted anything since then- I have made 22 cents! Not too shabby! I mean, now that I posted, and people know to look, I might get a few dollars by the end of the year! I'll let you guys know when I do...

On a separate update kind of note: We have been back from our North Carolina trip for over a month and Michael's toe is still not healing. It's better, but not as better as you would hope. We might have to go to the doctor two months after the fact to see what's up!

I basically felt like I needed to write something to make sure poeple know I am still alive out here in the country, and to encourage visits to my blog to see if I get any money. Isn't that a fun experiment?

By the way, I found out Dewy Rose has been taken off the map of Georgia...so I am now off the radar yo!