If you google Time Warp Buenos Aires 2016, you’ll likely find news on 5 dead kids and 4 in intensive care. They apparently died from a new drug called “superman” on the street. There was no water, not even in sinks, available and it was burning hot in the roofed venue that was obviously overbooked.
I’m not here to place judgment or give a summary of articles already on news sites. I just wonder now, as a mother, how do we raise children that won’t eventually be drawn to drugs? I try to think about what my parents did. I never even tried any drugs. But I can’t figure out what it is they did to accomplish this. Was it just my personality? Was it society? Was it my friends? I wish I knew the answers. My son is just a baby, but time goes so fast…I wish I could shield him. My husband has never tried drugs either. What did they do differently? He comes from a stronger religious foundation but still, how many kids come from religious homes and are attracted to drugs anyway. As parents, what can we do?
My son sits on my lap and talks in his baby language with his arm holding my arm as I type this. My hope is to be the best mother I can be and to never have to face this tragedy first-hand.
My heart goes out to the parents of these kids. RIP
Today I found myself missing this space where I can just ramble on and not be wasting anyone’s time in the process.
Today I have a mission. My son is nearly 5 months old. It’s time to pack away the maternity clothes. Just as I am piling clothing that no longer fits my son in a big plastic box in the garage, it’s time to do this with all clothing that says “maternity”. Pants with elastic bands are comfortable, of course, but not the most flattering when instead of showcasing a baby bump, accentuates a post-baby bump.
I’m actually not too down about my post-partum body. Could it be better? Yes. Could I be actually trying? Yes. For someone who isn’t trying, I think it’s fine, though. What I am down about is what little effort I’m making at getting ready in the morning and today I will make it a mission to clean up my closet, pull out the maternity, pull out what’s not necessary and leave everything I should be wearing closer to reach. A sort of deep spring cleaning, only that here in the South, it’s Fall.
Working a 9 to 6 job at the computer makes for sometimes long days where the chitter chatter (or complete silence) at the office can make the day drag on. Bringing my lunch, which I try to do often, gives me an excuse to stay the whole 9 hours inside, though in nice weather I’ll take a stroll around Chinatown anyway just for some fresh air.
Yes, there is a Chinatown in Buenos Aires as well, doesn’t every big city have one? Complete with restaurants, bamboo plants and clever knick knacks on sale.
Anyway, sometimes I need to listen to something interesting while I do more of the repetitive things at work, that’s where podcasts come in.
By far, my favorite. It’s a spinoff from This American Life so if you’re familiar with that, you may like this. It’s goes through the story and detail of a true murder case that happened in 1999 for which someone was put in jail and still remains there. The story itself is full of discrepancies and Sarah Koenig does a great job of looking into it. Season 2, featuring a new story, will be out this fall.
Serial takes me to this next podcast that started not so long after Serial was over. This podcast is definitely biased, backing up the man who was accused of the murder, but if you loved Serial and got caught into the story, this podcast may interest you. It presents more details about the case, goes into some laws that should have been taken into account at the time, and looks at different perspectives.
The host, Karina Longworth, is a sort of Hollywood historian and this podcast features episodes that go into all kinds of stories from Barbra Streisand’s relationship with Jon Peters to Audrey Hepburn’s rise to fame. Currently she is doing a series on the Charles Manson murders and besides the story we all know, that she actually presents in a more vivid way, she also talks about the relationships and ties he had with those he encountered.
This features stories about crimes, people who have accidentally or purposely done wrong and may or may not have been caught. The crimes range from petty thief to murder and sometimes the criminals themselves are interviewed in the episode.
I’m not a psychopath, I just love narrated crime stories.
So I finally got to the point where my belly is definitely a pregnant belly and not just looking bloated. The pronounced belly is definitely a mixture of excitement and pride to show it off and admire it in the mirror and then sometimes looking at it in the same mirror and thinking, “omg, I look huge.” Luckily, the latter response doesn’t come too often. I think that it isn’t really a matter of body size but more about loss of control and my body changing so rapidly. Apparently, my baby boy is now the size of a large zucchini and I’ve been able to feel some movement. These are always exciting and never predictable. So if someone asks, “does he move yet?” I say yes, but then they want to feel and it hardly ever happens when I want it to.
Being in my second trimester has definitely felt so much better than the first. The only real complaint I have these days is tiredness and backache and both come after a day’s work so that’s not too shabby. Meanwhile, I’ve already had one baby shower in the states and the next one will probably be in about a month here in Argentina. Baby showers help so much!! While I thought that maybe I’d just stock up on clothing and get a couple of baby gear items, I instead received ALL kinds of things, from feeding to shoes, to blankets, everything you can imagine and then some gift cards which also came in handy. So future-moms, never underestimate the power of a baby shower. Are they cheesy? Yes. But do they feel special and help out in the end? Also yes. And it was a lot of fun and a good opportunity to see so many ladies.
Our nursery planning is finally coming up! So far we’re going for white walls, one gray wall and mostly neutral colors. I can’t wait to prepare the closet, the drawers, the crib….okay, everything. I am an anxious person so this has me obsessed. Before and After pics very soon.
BTW, if you are having a baby shower, I strongly suggest using Baby List Registry. You can register for items in different stores and it gives your guests price comparisons if one gift is sold at several stores. Worked out great for me! Here’s how it was added to my invite:
Yikes. When I was picturing what pregnancy would be like, aside from the side effects and gain-weight, I also pictured myself glowing and looking amazing every day. Like the happiness of having a child grow in my body would show.
Totally wrong. My first trimester I felt like s*** and when I didn’t, I was too tired to care. Luckily my mood and energy is coming back in this 4th month and I have realized that I don’t remember when the last time I actually did my hair was. I’ve been wearing the same shirts day in and day out and haven’t even bothered to switch up my make-up on weekends. Not that I’m usually high-maintenance, but definitely not this lazy.
Anyway, I have to get out of this. Some maternity inspiration, please!
I was working and starting my second year of college in 2006. During the summer, I had traveled to Nicaragua on my own to stay with my mother’s cousin and visit the many beaches and clubs in the tropical city of Managua. This had not been my first trip and I had really gotten to know this country, at least the Western side. Around November, I was itching to travel again, but this time, I wanted to visit my father’s country, Argentina.
The last time I had gone to Argentina, I was 11 years old. My memories of that visit and even a few visits that I had made younger were actually quite vivid, perhaps mostly because of the many photos and videos. My father’s family is huge and concentrated mostly in a small neighborhood in the middle of the country’s capital, Buenos Aires. Despite what most may think about how my father would react to me wanting to visit all of his family and hometown, he actually hated the idea. His exact words were: “If I let you go to Buenos Aires, you will not want to come back.” I laughed…
I stayed at my grandmother’s house from mid-December to mid-January. Amir is actually a distant relative of my father’s and so we knew each other from my childhood trips and now ran into him quite a bit. On the 2nd day of having arrived, his older sister called me to invite me to the house. I’ll never forget this day. In the patio of their home I sat in a chair with her and all of the other siblings surrounding me. We talked about the United States and myself. What was I into? What music did I listen to? How were my cousins who lived in the U.S.? Did we visit often? Amir and I had chatted a few times before I traveled but now he was quiet. I wasn’t sure what to think about him, but I knew that I liked him and hoped he would break out of his shell.
That month in Buenos Aires felt like it had been a year, but not because time dragged on, but rather because each day held so many things. So many memories, so much walking and ice cream and visiting. Amir and his sisters took me everywhere and he and I became inseparable until eventually we confessed our attraction to each other and though at first we kept it a secret, it was impossible what with all eyes on us of even older relatives hoping there would be a connection. I recall one day we had walked over to the corner of his house talking, we were about to kiss until Amir looked up. His uncle was peeking out the window and the uncle’s son, his cousin was peeking out the window one floor up. It seemed like though Buenos Aires was a bustling city, it held the attitude of a small town. I have so many memories of that trip, I remember when Amir and I finally broke the ice, when we went to the Japanese Garden where he proposed to me years later. There were nights where we would stay up until the sun came up comparing life stories and dreams. Once, we were going to the riverside the next day with family and were expected to leave pretty early. We ended up not sleeping at all and well, we didn’t enjoy the river so much. We would sit and doze off for a bit every opportunity we had. I remember one day dropping by to say hi when he was napping and leaving him a note with his brother so that he would know I’d visited and also when he gave me the first peck behind a curtain thinking no one was watching, only to discover later that his brother was on the other side and had seen everything. Also, I remember when I left, his family offered to take me to the airport. All of them were aware of our relationship at that point, except for his father apparently. He became aware of this when he noticed that our farewell was no ordinary farewell.
A week before I had to return, my father called to see how I was. “What’s wrong?” I sniffled. “You don’t want to come back, do you?” and then I let it all out. Crying as though I was being forced to leave my own hometown. The 6 months that followed when I was back in the U.S. were a blur. All I remember is my determination to return and my many emails and phone calls with Amir. He was skeptical (as he always is) about my returning but continued to wait. Meanwhile, I checked out universities, prepared presentations of what my future plans were for my parents, and stocked up on shoes and clothing that I thought I wouldn’t find in Argentina. By June I was hoping on a plane back to Grandma’s house, received by the open arms of Amir, tears included.
I think I fell in love with Amir and also the city during that one month. When I think about that time now, I almost don’t recognize myself. I mean, I recognize the determination. When I want something, I’m sure about it and seek it incessantly, but I’m not impulsive. Not with love or anything else for that matter. That month, everything went so fast but it didn’t feel crazy, it felt right. I didn’t feel out of control, I felt totally in control and sure about what I was doing, not even worrying about the what if’s or making pros and cons lists like I usually would.
With the years, it’s easy to forget how I ended up living with this man in day to day life. When we’re having dinner or just in a taxi together heading out. It’s easy to forget the difficulties of me leaving and also the magic there has always been. One gets used to the flames until you eventually forget it’s even there. Like being so used to light that when the electricity goes out you realize how much light was actually on. It’s normal and proof of how comfortable we are, but it is nice to look back on these moments every now and then.
I’m 14 weeks today and in the process of moving from a tiny 1 bedroom apartment to a spacious 3 bedroom house. It seemed easy thinking about it, how hard can it be? We don’t have so many things….
False. It does not matter if the space we were living in is small, we still accumulated many things in these almost 2 years of marriage and also we should factor in the changes we made to the house so that it’d be move-in ready. I, of course, couldn’t participate in the painting, although I wish I could have. I served more as a cheerleader and later, a cleaner. The house is finally ready for us and all we have to do now is pack everything in boxes in the next 2 nights. Saturday is the big M day.
Being pregnant and moving has been difficult, mostly because I haven’t been much help. Not only have I not been much help, I’ve probably been the exact opposite of useful. Hormonal and anxious and impatient (well, to be fair, I’m always impatient). Luckily I’m now entering my 2º trimester and should be regaining all the energy I felt I didn’t have before. I do feel more like myself, minus the strange body changes where I feel pudgy instead of pregnant and a bowl of chocolate cereal wins over any other food (especially Nesquik cereal!).
A couple of things I have found exciting during these past couple of weeks besides the move and family visiting from out of town: finding out other people are pregnant almost the same time as I am and nursery decor. My pinterest account is more active than ever. I had my NT scan last week and was told that the baby is almost certainly a boy! My decor ideas were pretty neutral anyway, going for the gray tones mostly and then adding accents in more gender-oriented patterns and colors. Our nursery is still a blank canvas, and probably will be until next month when we’re finally settled in. But still, I take notes as I browse every site and pin board out there.
A baby. Yes, I am pregnant. It’s setting in a little bit more in my brain that there is a life growing inside of me and I feel so much love for what must look like an alien/raisin so far. Of course, my crazy anxious self has downloaded 3 apps, one of which I update every morning, using their checklist and reading about updates on the development of the baby.
I think the best part, but also the most nerve-racking one for me, was when we announced it face to face to our families. His mom suspected it and so did my siblings but all were still very much surprised. The mothers cried and the fathers looked at us in shock. The siblings celebrated, it was a very good day.
After that we went to a few houses to give the news and then we posted a little video on our social media channels.
So now that I’m beginning my 3º month, I’m feeling tired and not hungry. I gravitate towards chips and definitely run away from meats so far. Did I mention I’m feeling tired? I can sleep anywhere at any time and this past weekend I did just that and opted to not go anywhere at all, not even grocery shopping. Thank God my husband takes care of the errand so well. He takes care of me so much!
Dexter, my now 6-month old beagle, is incredibly attached to me and follows me absolutely everywhere! I truly think dogs can sense pregnant women and act differently.
Boy or girl? I honestly have no preference, I think I would if I already had one, but since this is my first, any of the two would be equally welcomed. One pro of it being a baby boy is that it’d be the first on my husband’s side. Also, we keep picturing the baby as a boy, like in our dreams and thoughts…premonition or just hopeful? Not sure, but a baby girl sounds just as fun (and probably is just as much of a handful).
My due date is in November so I have a ways to go but I’m already so anxious about everything that’s to come and to at least find out what gender it is so we can start shopping away! (Like I needed an excuse…)
This is sure to be a big year, with lots of changes but I’m hopeful for all that’s to come. Now time for my nap….
P.s. The apps I use are “What to Expect when you’re expecting” (good videos), “Baby Center” (good articles), and my fave, “Nuture” which is a continuation from their period tracker “Glow” which I used to well, um, track my cycle.
No, this isn’t a deep post about how some things are not black and white, but rather somewhere in the middle. I’m not going to post about the decisions I make that may be life-changing nor is this a rant about a concept that someone does not understand where I proceed to introduce the “gray” area that exists.
No, no….this is much simpler. It’s outfits. B & W + G outfits. I want to have these items in my closet and be able to get dressed in the dark, knowing that whatever I grab will be in any of these colors and will look as sleek.