Accepting and Not so Accepting

These days I am happy to finally feel free enough to accept myself once and for all. I've worked long and hard trying to put the pieces together in a way that I would be satisfied with and I am so over it. This is me pure and simple. I'm done asking questions and tweeking my self image so that others are pleased with me, and I in turn can feel acceptable. Done. Over with. Who the heck cares. I have ONE life to live - and I am who I am.

So since I'm feeling so confident I do have one other fear I need to face: I have a reoccuring dream that my beloved Maria comes back. She was our nanny when Amy and I were little. She lived with us from the time we were one until we were 10 1/2. She made an amazing impression in my life and I can't let go of the loss so easily. My parents hired her to help with the housekeeping and small child managing. When we lived here in San Antonio, she stayed in a small addition/ workspace behind our house on Prinz. When we moved to Duncanville, she moved in with us. She was our family though she spoke only Spanish, was extremely Catholic, and wouldn't learn how to drive. She never married, saved all her money, and sent it home to Teocaltiche, Mexico where her parents and siblings lived. When we were 10, her brother wrote her explaining that he needed her to come back home - her parents had passed away and he, too, was not in good health. Selfishly, I didn't want her to go - she was the person I would run to when I was in trouble, sad, scared, and lonely. I would wake her up in the middle of the night if I was having bad dreams, she would make a palate for me on the floor, give some M&Ms, and say prayers for me. I thought she could do no wrong, and when I questioned if my parents loved me enough (Hello, I'm high maintenence) I never questioned if she did or did not. She was an amazing painter, could play the piano from ear, and was intelligent as any overly educated person silver spoon feed from the states. However, she was here to take care of her family and they wanted her back. So she went back. I begged her to stay, I gave her my teddy bear as ransom, I told her I would buy her a house next to mine when she came back. And the only thing she asked of me was that I don't lose my Spanish.

In my dream, she comes back and I can't speak. My tongue is frozen. I have so much to say and no way of saying anything at all. I can't even tell her about my understanding husband, loving children, or the life I live that she would be proud of. I can't say anything at all and here is my big chance. It's an awful dream and in reality I know it's the truth. I can't even express myself properly in English, much less Spanish. Anyway, she's written my parents and asked that we write her. And I just brush it off with "I don't have anything to say" like an annoyed brat, when I'm really afraid because I can't say the things I want to - mostly, I can't say thank you for being in my life, thank you for understanding me, and still why did you have to go?  

Endurance Training

It sounds awful, but I've had almost two weeks of William free days. I didn't go to the gym, cook dinner outside a cereal box, or listen to Avery and Will yell back in forth before I drown them out in the "Big Bad Meanie Mom" voice that transcends from these vocal cords in a chorus unheard by most - except when this sibling business entered my life 22 months ago. So in this short free time, I have blissfully ran in and out of stores with one arm free FROM the nagging that comes with an independent five year old and shopping: "Hold my hand", "Do you need to go to the bathroom?" "No, I'm not buying that." "We're going in here because I WANT TO!" Sure, I can get a lot done, but without Will I find myself walking around without much direction (this happens when you let the first born boss YOU around).

  

I love the relationship Will and Avery have. When we picked up Will from Dave's family reunion in Cameron, Texas on Saturday, Will had such a deep sense of happiness and love come across his face when he saw his sister as he asked her for a record long hug. (And she didn't hit him.) It's so sweet. Unfortunately, two days later it's overshadowed by screeching about toys, hitting, hairpulling, scratching, getting the elusive "Dandy" or "Choc Milk" which is all done by Avery who is quickly tattled on by Will. In turn they both get in trouble, basically because in the Summer Heat (AND it's NOT technically Summer)I have the patience of a crack addict.

He's back and I've lost all the endurance I gained throughout their short lives. Wish me luck as I frantically make a list of all the activities a girl with two can do. We rush off to the park in the morning and I'm already hitting up the Mantra "This too Shall Pass", I pray that quickly I remember what it's like and am recharged and ready to go before tomorrow comes (or the summer's over). Meanwhile, I've logged some miles outside running (mostly from the fear of long summer days) and this is a good thing. Just keep me away from the grab and go food I can stuff anxiously in my mouth between "Please, just eat your brussel sprouts." "You can't have twizzlers for breakfast." "No, Avery, we don't have cake." Oh, please, I pray 3 miles away from my house, can't I just enjoy this time rather than wish (run) it away.