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Having It All

23 Sep

“Monkeys, do you have your lunches?”
“Yes!” they cried out in unison.
“Let’s go! Backpacks on, grab a sweater, and make sure you have your lunch packed away in your backpack.”
“Ok mommy!”

After dropping off Bella and Iza at school to make an 8 am call where I had to present, I drove off guilt ridden that I was leaving them on campus so early in the morning – read 5 minutes earlier than usual.  I coaxed myself to shake it off, to remember that they are loved and well-cared for little girls who can handle an additional 5 minutes away from me.

As I pulled into the parking lot at work and reached for my purse in the backseat, my eyes focused on a cute black tote with a panda face smiling at me – Iza’s lunch bag.

I ignored it, ignored the fact that the school would be calling me soon to notify me, ignored the fact that I had 2 minutes before the call started, and dashed up the stairs in my stiletto heels, click-clacking my way to my office where I quickly dialed into the conference call in time to hear the global roll call.

I sent a quick text to my fiancee ‘Iza 4got lunch will drop off after call in case school calls’ as I pulled up my notes for my presentation and silenced my cell phone.

As I was introduced, my phone buzzed with Iza’s school’s phone number flashing at me.  Bad Mom! it read.  As I ignored the call and it rang again it screamed, Terrible Mom!, before I ignored it again.

I placed my hand on my chest and leaned forward into my computer screen to calm my nerves and the chatter in my brain.  I stuck to my script a lot closer than I meant to and probably came off sounding like a robot dictating an essay (thank God I wrote it out and emailed it to myself the evening before!).  As soon as the call was over I got a couple of encouraging notes from colleagues congratulating me on a good presentation which I really appreciated.  I chose to ignore my internal questioning if the praise was deserved or not, and sat back and appreciated the kind words.

I waited a few minutes in case anyone followed up with any questions before I called the school back and apologized for ignoring their calls (I’m not a terrible mom, I promise! I have this thing called a J-O-B which I’m trying to make into a C-A-R-E-E-R), grabbed my keys, cell phone (work lifeline) and ran to my car.  As I pulled into the school 8 minutes later (I strategically live a short distance from my life’s priorities: the girls’ school and work) and dropped off Iza’s lovingly packed home cooked meal at the front office, I took a moment to smile (laugh at myself).

My mother would have kicked my ass if I had forgotten my lunch at home and had the gall to have the school secretary to call her at work and ask her to drop everything to bring it to me.  I started laughing out loud at the absurdity of the thought.  My mother never packed lunches.  She was too busy working as a grill cook an hour away in LA traffic for a 5 AM – 2 PM shift on her feet.  Her J-O-B did not allow the flexibility to “drop by” my school to deliver a home cooked meal.  I never wanted to be a nuisance to this mother of 5 whose idea of a better American life necessitated an additional job on the weekends as a cashier to afford the mortgage payments.

I smiled at the thought of my mother who continues to inspire me with her strength and will to move forward in life.  I smiled at the thought that I seem destined to feel guilty throughout life.  Guilt of being a nuisance as a child to hardworking parents and guilt as a mother for not predicting every minute need that my children may have.  I smile because I wouldn’t take either of those experiences away – my childhood nor the precious childhood that I shape for my girls.

Having it all? I say yes, one crazy (but well planned) day at a time.

What can you do but smile? On my way to Deliver Iza's Lunch.

What can you do but smile? On my way to Deliver Iza’s Lunch.

 

Suicide is everywhere – How Do We Help?

13 Aug

Suicide is everywhere

In the Media
In our closets, with belts carefully hidden away
In our medicine cabinets, full of long-forgotten pain killer prescriptions
In the bathroom, full of razors
In the freeway, over and under each overpass
 
Suicide is Everywhere
In our Classrooms, kids lost in quiet agony
In our home, where it hurts the most
In our work environment, where we may perpetuate it the most
 
Little by little
Bit by Bit
We poke at it
We prod it
We dump more work on it
We walk around smile-less, pushing it away
 
Suicide is Everywhere
A human terminal illness
Surrounds us everywhere
 
Can we stop it? 
Can we see it? 
 
If we did, would we?
   Take the time to offer an embrace
   A listening ear -
       Un-Interrupted with swipes on your phone to check the time
       Stolen glances to your email
 
Would we take the time
To be Human?

All the Pretty Things

1 Aug

Do all the pretty things in life make up for yesterday’s sadness?

lingering in sweet moments

I wonder

But it’s hard to think with a drink or two in hand

relaxing for once

All the sad moments

from another life

blurred away

Moments stitched together

Harder to remember

like a foggy morning melting into a sunny day

Rays of heat burn

whispers of grey floating away

Bathed in golden sun

I look at the broad smiles of happy girls

and forget

the thought of anything but present

Happiness

Spinning Round and Round

13 Jun

Originally posted on On the Fast Lane with the Flying Monkeys:

Spinning round and round
Giggles swirling around my ears
Giggles coming from me
 
Spinning round and round
Dress up to my waist
Gently undulating up and down
A blur all around me
 
Spinning round and round
Faster and faster
Laughter turn into sobs
Tears down my cheeks
 
I can’t see a thing
My head feels heavy
But I keep
Spinning round and round
 
My legs give out and I stagger to the ground
The blades of grass prick my skin
Grab hold of them
steady me
 
Spinning round and round
A blur all around me
 
I lay down to sleep
Better to stop
Spinning round and round

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La Migra

13 Jun

Originally posted on On the Fast Lane with the Flying Monkeys:

We went out to the Geffen MOCA and dinner with AM and her boys on Thursday evening.  As we settled down with our sushi and rambunctious kiddos, we started talking shop, as AM fondly refers to it.

A year had passed since I changed careers, a career that she so generously recommended me for and positioned me perfectly for.  In a year I had learned that this was the perfect vehicle for my ambition, hard worth ethic, and all around personality of a control freak. :)  I had just received a promotion and she wondered how I came to possess the professionalism, poise, and ability to navigate and distinguish myself while working at a high-powered law firm and coming from Boyle Heights with my highest education being at Roosevelt HS  no less (a school whose distinction includes being featured in the documentary Waiting for Superman as an educational fail factory).

As far as my work ethic…

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Hunger

13 Jun

Originally posted on On the Fast Lane with the Flying Monkeys:

This is hard to share because there’s a certain shame and stigma to going through this in a first world country, but it’s important to know that it happens, here in our country, and that it is more pervasive that we like to admit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I had you Bella, it was so hard to leave you. You were such a little thing, born a bit early; you weighed 5 lbs. and 8oz. When you would curl up your tiny limbs up to your chest, you could easily fit inside a shoe box. How could I leave you? I only had six weeks with you before it was time for me to go back to work and when I went back that first day I couldn’t help it; the tears kept streaming down my cheeks and it hurt so bad to be away from you. I had taken one of…

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Hate on Sight

13 Jun

Originally posted on On the Fast Lane with the Flying Monkeys:

I run at ass crack dawn every day mostly because that is the only time I can squeeze in one more activity into my busy schedule but also in an attempt to avoid the creeps that stalk about waiting to harass women at night.

As I turned the corner I heard the familiar “hey baby, looking gooood” and noticed two cholos sitting at a bus stop bench that rudely corrected my theory that losers are too lazy to be up that early.

My body went on high alert; my stomach muscles contracted and a flurry of emotions threatened to make me double over as I felt the familiar rage within me: hate on sight.  As I inhaled I could feel my nostrils flare, my chest heave; and all I could think about was how I wanted to scoop up the dregs of festering hate inside my body and spit it…

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