Soap material

Ever wonder where soap operas get inspiration for their material? I mean, life isn't really that complicated, right? And relationships aren't really that fleeting... or are they?

I think I may have found the answer. Where, you wonder? The most logical place, of course: preschool.

Katarina came home one day to let me know that Hunter, her pal she hangs around with all over the place, was now Allison's boyfriend. "OK...", I said - I mean, what else am I supposed to say?

The next day, Hunter and Allison weren't girlfriend and boyfriend anymore. Hunter was now Katarina's boyfriend. "OK...", again I replied. She seemed to be taking Hunter's apparent indecision and potential commitment issues with relative obliviousness.

The day after, Katarina informed me that Hunter wasn't her boyfriend anymore. "What happened?", I inquired. "He broke up with me." "Oh..." I said - again, what else could I say? Her heart seemed intact enough, so no worries on my part. Hunter may have commitment issues, but they weren't affecting her. She also proceeded to tell me she didn't want to marry him, because she didn't want to have babies. In my book, right now, that sound just fine...

One more day went by. Yes, there's more.

Katarina let me know that now Hunter wanted to marry Allison - so much for commitment issues, I thought. "OK... so now Allison and Hunter are back together?" I asked. "No. Allison is with Eddie now. Hunter wants to marry Allison, but Allison is now Eddie's girlfriend." All this was said as if telling me they all shared crackers for snack before going to the playground. "Ah..." I replied, not sure what else to say. "After Hunter left, Allison and I were friends again, and we played together."

So, in summary, here's the Days of Our Lives (insert your favorite soap here) script: love triangle, commitment issues, boy wants girl, boy doesn't want girl and now wants other girl, boy wants first girl back, but only when she's found someone else.

And in the end, they can all go back to playing in the same sandbox. Literally. Can't beat 4-year-old logic.

Top reasons why you should love life...

So, we're all in this cycle: the economy sucks, the Dow Jones is now the Down Jones (although I hear it's up lately), jobs are less safe than before, some of us are getting pay cuts, the swine flu looms in the horizon, blah, blah, blah, blah. Yeah. Life can be hard, brutal, unexpected in its cruelty. But then, life is, at all times, just beautiful, if you know where to look. So here's my partial list of why I love life, despite all the downs, the uncertainty, the lack of a crystal ball, and the plain hardship that it can present.

1. Light. When I wake up in the morning, I can see the hue of dawn cast on the sky through my windows. My heart just stops at the sight of it, and then I remember to breathe. And then I wish I could capture not just the color, but the feeling of a new day.

2. Spring - need more reason than the purity of rebirth? Colors are intense in their green, flowers start to pop in unexpected places - like the center of the 241 toll road on my way to work. It's purple, lush and full of life, and a constant reminder of the consistency of nature in the inconsistency of life.

3. Rain. I love the rain almost as much as I love Spring. It washes it all, and as I inhale, I can smell the richness of the earth. Colors intensify under it, even as the gray mantle of the sky takes over in the horizon.

4. My heart. When it rejoices, there's no bounds. When it breaks, there's no bottom. And through it all, I'm just grateful that I can feel.

5. Sound - of birds outside my window in this neighborhood of houses and streets and traffic. Birds still nest in my trees and chirp their eager, happy song every morning. They remind me that there's more than meets the eye when I can be sure of their presence just by the sound of their song.

6. Friendship. It takes you up, it takes you down, and it just gets you through it all. I don't think I have an abundance of true friends, but those true friendships I do have are more than any one person could ask for. Each is a treasure, and each gives me a reason to have hope that, no matter what the future holds, life is worth experiencing and sharing with others.

7. Laughter. That of my children, which is a mixture of baby gurgles and little girl giggles. There is no sweeter sound. The laughter that my husband can bring me on any given day, because he can be a funny guy. Laughter shared among friends, because it takes away everything else. There are no worries where laughter lives.

8. Love - yeah... the sappy kind that makes you almost blind to everything else, fills your heart to the brink, and makes you vulnerable beyond your comfort level.

9. Adversity. Life isn't perfect, and happiness is never complete. There are only perfect moments, and in the balance we can only hope that those moments are greater than the non-perfect ones. Still, adversity largely makes us who we are, and gives us the contrast we need to appreciate what we do have. And who would have thought that, in those moments when we have to prioritize, the things we hold most dear are the simple joys and the truest gifts?

10. Art. Be it music, dance, paint... you name your type, and you'll understand why.

Filing dos and don'ts...

For those of you who ever wonder, those of you who never were exposed to the complicated world of filing, those of you who have never come across a filing cabinet or a filing system, and those of you who, like me, find yourselves in the midst of a filing disaster that threatens to intrude in your thoughts when you wake up at 3 a.m. for until the disaster is under control. Please note, this is just a guide. Your can create your own system. And, as you'll see, just having everything in alpha order is not enough.

DO file things by functional area (advisory board, events, programs, reports, whatever).
DO order your functional areas in alpha order.
DO file things in alpha order within each area.
DO group separate larger areas to compartmentalize (administrative v. programs v. personal)

DON'T just create a jumbled mess by putting everything under the moon in alpha order. And here's the why of this blog. The following list is a random, very small sample of files found under alphabetical order in a drawer that shall not be disclosed. Individual and company names have been changed to protect the unsuspecting victims. Asterisks denote actual file names (not making it up).

C -
Carnegie Mellon
Cornwell, Sam
Credit Reports
...
F -
Fantastic Sam's
Foundstone
Financial Investment Ideas
Fitzgerald, Ella
Fortune 500
Fun Stuff *
...
G -
Gandolfini, John
General Electric
Good Ideas *
Green, James
Green Peace

Also found was a file for Jokes, two files for the same program under different letters, and several duplicate files for companies for which files already exist - which, by the way, were just sitting in the same office.

Eek!!!

Kids say the darnest things...

We were at a little dinner at Katarina's daycare, an end-of-year get together for her classroom, when Larissa spotted one of the pregnant teachers. 

"Mommy, did Tiffany really want a baby? Or did she just get one?" She asked.

Katarina, in all her three-year-old wisdom, replied "She got married to her husband, then she got skinny, then she got fat with her baby."

Rock anywhere?

LGBT Curriculum in K-5

The news today announced that the Alameda County board of education has approved the teaching about homosexuality in grades K-5 as part of an attempt to curb bullying. Whether this is a good move or not is not the point of this quick blog. I'd rather focus on the irony of the situation.

During the heated campaign around Prop 8 in California, supporters of the proposition used several arguments that in a previous blog I highlighted as unfounded. The irony today is that one of those tactics was to denounce the fact that, should Prop 8 fail, our schools would be teaching young children about homosexual relationships. There was outcry from all sorts of groups. My friends and I engaged in heated debate around this. Yet I venture to say that not that many people actually tried to find out if such an accusation had any foundation in reality.

Well, my friends, it did not. And today, after Prop 8 not only has passed, but has been ratified by the California Supreme Court, a district in Northern California has approved one of the very things supporters of 8 so emphatically used as a reason to pass Prop 8.

What do they have to say now?

Remember: check the facts.

Kids...

Most of you know that I talk to my girls in Spanish mostly (lately, English has been creeping in, against my better judgment). From the day they were born, this has been something I've been determined to give to them.

My hope? That they will learn the language, of course. I figured eventually they'll take it in school, and one day I'll send them off to grandma for a summer of full immersion.

My frustration? That they never speak in Spanish to me. Why would they?? Try as I may, it ain't happening.

My rewards? Not many. There was Larissa at 11 months saying "agua" as her first word ever (go figure). There is Katarina throwing a word here and there, mixed into a sentence of fluent English. There's the girls praying in Spanish with me at bedtime. There is the girls learning how to tell Jim his butt is big in Spanish, and enjoying it immensely (hey, I gotta find the way to get them talking, right? A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do...)

The same thing is happening with German, by the way... Larissa is in Saturday German School, and Jim and I could swear she's not learning a thing, not a peep, nada, zilch, zero. The teacher says differently, however, so we keep at it and will be enrolling Katarina come September.

And here's the kicker. The reason that tells me I must persist, and the fact that will keep me going. And yet another window into the little person that is my oldest daughter.

I went to pick up Larissa from school yesterday. On our way out, we run into one of the custodians. He stopped and started talking in Spanish to her (my friend! How are you? See you Monday, right? etc.) Larissa just nodded, which seemed totally in character to me.

He looked at me and said, in Spanish:
"She speaks Spanish."
"She understands it..." I replied, smiling, and hoping, as I usually do.
"No, she speaks it too."
I looked at him, puzzled. Maybe Larissa was saying a word here and there. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"She comes over with two of her friends, and they talk to me in Spanish. They tell me 'here's my friend Tony, how are you, etc.' She speaks Spanish!"

I was elated. I was frustrated. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to strangle her. I opted for smiling at Tony and thanking him for the best news he could have delivered and wishing him a great weekend.

As we walked to the car, I asked her. "Do you talk to him in Spanish?" The little brat smiled sheepishly, avoided my eyes, and said "Si."

Ugh.

About highlights...

No, we're not talking hair, at least not right now...

I was recently asked what were the high points in my life... Graduating from college? Absolutely. The day I married my husband? Definitely. The births of my two girls? Most certainly. Those are given milestones.

I, however, thought about it and after a split second went in the opposite direction - yeah, I know, who would've thought... 

I looked back, and considering the question, thought of the lowest points in my life, and they became my answer. Why, you ask? Because it is the lowest points in our lives that teach us some of the most valuable lessons.

I have certainly learned from the happy times - the reward of achieving a goal, the satisfaction of doing something special, the lessons of marrying and living with the man who walks by my side, and the absolute purity of the love I have for my two children. 

But the lessons that have largely molded me into who I am today are the ones that have come from adversity.

Learning that the love of my early adult life had finally decided to take a chance with someone, and learning that someone wasn't me after 20 months of an intense, emotional, platonic relationship and profound friendship, taught me that I can build my life after devastating heartbreak.

Leaving medical school after intense study and a race to get admitted to a highly competitive program taught me that I'm stronger than I think I am.

Having to uproot my life, leave my country, my friends, and the comfort of my mother's arms taught me that I can rebuild my life from the lowest point, where hope rarely visits.

Giving up on the dream of becoming a doctor - a dream born when I was 11 years old - taught me that sometimes the path you think you are destined to follow isn't the path you are meant to follow.

Watching my best friend go through the horrendous pain of losing a child taught me about the depths of friendship, compassion, and the power of faith. 

Every experience took a little from me and replaced it with something else. We become who we are through the lessons we learn in life; and through the most difficult times and the choices we make, we emerge a new person.

So, when you think of the highlights in your life, think also of the low points and the hardships you've overcome that have made you who you are today.

She's at it again

Katarina and Jim were at a red light next to a police car.

Katarina waved, the cop waved back. 

The light turned green. 

Jim took off...

"Daddy! You can't pass the policeman!"

laughs

"Daddy, it's not funny!"

The policeman passed Jim.

"Katarina, say good-bye to the policeman! He's passing me!"

"Yes... I gave him super-powers!"

My grandma

My grandma was 91 when she decided it was time to go this past Friday, February 13. She tried it once, but the doctors brought her back. So she tried it again a few hours later.

Her body was done - hell, she'd had a great ride in it. She lived life on her own terms, not always conforming to the rules of society in a time when women were supposed to, and in a country that demanded it.

I found out yesterday that her favorite dessert was "crema volteada" - a creamier, richer version of the traditional flan, and one of my personal favorites too. I don't know what her favorite color was. But I can recall with pinpoint accuracy her smell, and I know the feel of her skin.

She was a sassy little thing, with white hair that crowned her head (something she passed on to me). She always walked with her head held high, spine rod-straight, attitude in her stride. We used to think of her as the "rules" grandma - we had to be proper, we had to behave... she wasn't the fun one growing up. But she sure was fun in the later years.

She loved us. Of that, I have no doubt. I remember her sending us a little bit of money for our birthdays, here and there - five, ten bucks. It warmed the heart to have her do this, knowing her resources were ridiculously limited.

At 69, she won a Merengue dance contest. At 70, she had triple bypass surgery and spent a few days in ICU complaining to whomever could hear her - it didn't matter if they weren't listening. At 71, I found her on a TV news report on assisted living facilities - most of her contemporaries were sitting for a show. She was part of the show, kicking her legs up a-la Rockettes in an aerobics routine that told me she still had long to go.

She wasn't an easy woman. She was fiercely independent (maybe she passed that on too...), and always insisted she could take care of herself. Along the way she fell a couple of times, once taking public transportation, and broke bones, yet she still told everyone to back off, she could handle herself. OK. So she was also stubborn.

In the later years, she started feeling her age, but her mind was sharp as a tack, and her vanity remained intact. Arthritis slowed her body down. Except when no one was looking, and back would come the sassy little thing, in one and a half inch heels, head held high. Her hearing deteriorated significantly. Some of it was physical; some of it was voluntary. I was held to secrecy on that one.

She was a devout of the Virgin of Fatima, to whom I owe a rosary in my abuelita's memory. She prayed daily, devotional in one hand, rosary in the other. The first hour of her day was for the Lord. The second hour of her day she spent in the bathroom. A fact that drove us insane growing up, when she would stay with us. But there was no rushing the primping process, and she wouldn't come out until every hair was in its place. We learned early on to hold the urge to pee.

A few years ago, my aunt and my mom discovered grandma had been at one time "Karina." A sexy, sassy exotic dancer - not exotic like now. A much tamer version. She also worked as an assistant in a circus. My grandma was no saint, but she was definitely colorful. The stories she could have told...

She didn't have an easy life, but that didn't seem to bother her. She was terrified of cancer, so God saw to it that she wouldn't find out she had metastasis before he called her away. Her vanity survived until the end, as grandma passed away gently in her hospital bed, never having to have suffered the ravaging effects and agony of a prolonged death.

I thought I had a couple more years. I thought she'd get to meet my girls - sassy, independent little things. I hope she can see them now and know that I will miss her smell and her laughter.

My grandma had soft skin. The softest hands I've ever felt. She rubbed them with lime and sugar to keep them that way.

Looking back...

Life has a strange way of pushing us forward, and at the most unexpected moment, pulling us back. Just when we think we've grown beyond the holds of the past, we stumble upon a note, a message, a memory from a time that's long gone by. And we look back at our perfect memories. 

I find myself looking back right now and wondering about so much. I don't wonder about the what ifs, because there really is no point. My life is what I have now, and what I make it (hey, that's a Hannah Montana moment for you... eek!) But the life I once had holds the key to who I used to be. And there are times when I miss that girl.

It's too complicated to explain in two or three paragraphs, within the constraints of a blog. Too personal to share with the world thanks to the window of the Internet. I'm just looking back into what was twenty years ago. I miss the pieces of me that are held by others who were such a central part of my life then. I miss the pieces of me that hold together my past and my present, and that are part of the person I've become. 

Life moves forward. The lessons are part of the road that shapes us constantly. And sometimes along that road, we leave pieces of ourselves that can never be taken back. They belong to the road, they belong to others. They no longer belong to us. 

In her own words...again

I was on the phone with our friends Bob and Janice, trying to ease Janice's worries about leaving their new baby at daycare, so I had this conversation with Katarina for Bob and Janice to hear:

"Katy, do you like your daycare?"
"Yes"
"Do you like your teachers?"
"Yes"
"Do you like to go to your daycare and see your teachers?"
"Yes"
"And what do you do at the daycare?"
"I pee my pants"

Ugh...

It's gray...

and beautiful!

I have a dear friend who used to talk about "El Encanto de lo Gris" - or literally translated, the enchantment of gray. I used to think he was crazy, but then I did love his quirkiness.

It took me years and a bout of nostalgia to look through his eyes, although at that point I was away from my native Peru. I remember sitting in a hallway at Cypress College looking through a floor-to-ceiling window at the rainy day. It was cold and wet, and very, very gray. And it hit me like it had never before. It was, indeed, beautiful.

The bricks were a different shade of red - intense and powerful, set against the backdrop of green leaves from trees whose trunks had darkened with the water. Everything, somehow, seemed to come alive. In contrast with each other, nature and buildings stood in the rain full of what seemed to me was life. Vibrating, demanding to be seen, and beautiful in their own right.

The rain cleans, and somehow it cleansed me. That moment alone stands out in my memory as one of incredible sadness and powerful self-awareness. I missed so much in that instant, and at the same time I was given so much.

Winter has never been the same since. When it rains, I get past the cold and the wet, and I remember that moment of powerful epiphany. Not just because I looked at the beauty of my surroundings, but also because it reaffirmed for me the belief that some of the most beautiful things in life are found in those unexpected moments, when we finally open our eyes and become aware of the gifts that surround us day in and day out.

The difference between 38 and 16

Other than the obvious 22??

More weight, less tone...
More gray, not as much hair...
Some wrinkles, but less acne...
My teeth are now straight...
More insight, less attitude...
More willingness to learn from others...
More awareness that I don't know it all...
More certainty that I know very little...
More urgency to do...
Shorter days, weeks, months and years...
More wonder, less taken for granted
Greater obnoxiousness about my birthday...
More knowledge of who I am - and who I don't want to be...
More appreciation for the "little" things in life...
More understanding that the "little" things are really the BIG ones...
More need to do good, and less hope that we can do it all...
Would that be less hubris??

I'm still me, just an improved version. Not like wine - wine improves with the years, until it stops improving. I'd rather be like a controversial, ground-braking work of art: misunderstood in the early years, acknowledged down the road, and appreciated later on for being bold, unique, and beautiful in its own right (for whatever qualities that make it so).

And no, there's no apologies on that statement. After all, today is my birthday!

On the inauguration

It's hard to describe the enormity of this moment - harder probably to truly appreciate it without having suffered personally from the extreme prejudice and discrimination black people have lived with for years in this country. Still, what a moment this is. The first black president of the United States has been inaugurated, and the country is watching, more than ever before.

Expectations have been high on all fronts. This morning on NPR, there was a report on the expectations of children that now the country will turn into one in which there is no distinction based on the color of your skin, and their faith in the fact that this new president will fix their schools.

There was also a mention of Rick Warren and whether he would invoke the name of Jesus - which he did, and in a way that probably didn't offend many.

And there was a mention of the much anticipated inaugural address of our new president - would it be so memorable as to withstand the test of time, like Lincoln's second inaugural address? Will it just have sentences that will continue to be quoted in the years to come? And on my part, would it live up to the expectation set not just by this moment, but by the last two years of listening to a candidate who campaigned largely on the concept of hope, and who believes that "yes, we can!"

The expectations we all have of this president (whether democrat, republican, libertarian, or whatever, we all have them now) are probably the highest placed on any president in recent history. What will time tell us after the party is over? How long will the honeymoon last? I for one hope for a more moderate Obama than we saw on the campaign trail, and for a president who will reach across the aisle.

His life will never be the same, and his popularity probably will never be as high as it is today. The honeymoon will be short-lived, but I have high hopes for his ability to navigate troubled waters and lead people forward.

In her words (yeah, there's more)

Katarina is going through the horrible threes - there's the terrible twos, but the threes complete overshadow them, imho.

She is now also completely articulate, uncannily clever, and entirely too quick for our own good. And, alas, not a baby anymore!

Here's one of our recent conversations right as I was working unsuccessfully to tuck her in for the night.


Katarina - Mommy, I don't want to get married, and I don't want to have babies, and I don't want to have a boyfriend.

Me - (thinking, that's totally fine by me, especially since you're three) Why not, baby?

Katarina - Because they're yucky...

Larissa - No, they're not!

Me - (thinking, oh boy, not this soon...)