December 31, 2013


I am not sad to see twothousandandthirteen ride off into the sunset on a speckled mare. I say, good riddance! It was a year of hard knocks and (wo)manning up. Putting on my big girl panties and not crying. Dealing with it. Realizing that women have it hard, but that we can handle it. Juggling being a mother, a woman, an employee, a wife, a partner, a daughter.

It was a difficult year, but it was also wonderful, enlightening, and tender. I did a lot of growing up. It was hard. It was hard to say goodbye to the girl and welcome to the woman, yet it was time. I turned 30 in twothousandandthirteen and I used to think that I would have it all figured out by then. By 30. I am far away from figuring anything out. I have a long way to go. I am up to the challenge, I just hope I can live up to my own personal expectations.  

twothousandandthirteen wasn't an easy dance, it was an intricate tango. It was a learning experience. It was necessary for one so spoiled and lazy.

It was a year of wonder, of stripped down bareness, of unequaled tenderness.

It was welcoming Madeline into this crazy, incredibly world (and family).

It was saying farewell to my beloved grandfather.

It was knowing a new kind of love.

October 28, 2013


Currently obsessed with Orange Is The New Black. Can't stop watching it. Hitting the perfect point of pithy and soul punching. My type of show.

Doesn't hurt that the lovely/talented Regina Spektor wrote the intro song. She also sings it. Badass bitch!

Recently wrote a small FB post on the type of singers/artists that I want my daughter to grow up listening to. Strong, empowered, vulnerable, intelligent women who compose, write and sing their own music. I want my daughter to grow up assured in her place in this world. I want her to feel like she can make a difference, even if it is tiny or big. Big ideas, big movements, big thoughts come from the smallest beginnings. Music can have a huge impact on how you see the world. I don't want to sound trite but, Ani DiFranco and Tori Amos made huge impacts upon my teenage sensibilities. Not to say I wasn't a fan of The Backstreet Boys (after all, I did see them in concert here in Panama), but I want her to know what good music sounds like and that women are capable of making life changing music. For all.

October 26, 2013

mental roadblocks and the sort

It hasn't been all lollipops and rainbows. Parenthood, that is. It hasn't been smiles and gurgles and infinite jest. It has been grueling, difficult. Life changing, and perspective skewing. I have had to confront a lot of shit that I had locked up in a drawer somewhere. Hi, my name is (insert here) and I am emotionally unavailable right now. Please leave a message and I will get back to you in a year or eighteen. 

I recently turned thirty and well, I thought I would have become more, achieved more by now. And now... Now it feels like those invisible aspirations, those hidden dreams that I held on to are even more remote than ever. Floating away in a little puff of cumulus nimbus clouds. Quiet exhalations of desires, dreams, and postponed goals. 

Not that parenting suddenly robs you of all of your potential, but it does make it harder to focus and achieve those things. Well, as a mother anyhow. The father does bear some of the brunt (if you are lucky), but for the most part, the raising of a child falls on the mother. The weight of that small, toothless wonder is not just physical. 

It pulls you down, down, down and you must go forward. Must. Treading water easily transforms into sinking, quickly. The future bears its ugly face forward and time does fly, on speedy wings goes by. It waits patiently for no one. 

Having a child makes you confront your fears to realize they are minuscule and by association you are minuscule and insignificant. A mere microscopic bacteria in the scheme of things. If you are lucky, that little bacteria can infect something great and thus become something more. But for most of us, we remain that little inconspicuous speck of mold on a slice of stale bread. 

October 2, 2013

rosemary, baby

You can call me the accidental gardener. I bought a rosemary plant a year or so ago. I planted it in the corner garden and then promptly forgot about it. I saw it whither down to a dehydrated stump during verano, all pitiful and sorry looking, and then promptly forgot about it. 

While I was out walking this afternoon I noticed the long forgotten plant that I thought had died long ago, and BEHOLD! A beautiful, thriving plant, all odorous and in my face. I snapped a stem and waved it under my husband's nose. Look what I found! 

He in turn, waved it under Miss Maddie's nose. She smelled it and then tried to eat it (we are in that stage). We sat her down on the stone wall, her little feet stirring the rosemary leaves, the smell enveloping us. So, this is what people say about enjoying the outdoors with family. It sure is nice... until the chitras tear you apart. 

I am getting into gardening again, so it must mean that I am feeling positive and upbeat about my future. So, um yeah... I guess! Been relocating some cacti and spreading the (dirty) love. Gardening is not an easy activity, nor is it clean and dainty. Its messy. strenuous and damn right dangerous. Yes. Especially when all the potting and putzing around has been a mere foot from this dude:

And here I was thinking I had been so safe by eyeing my surroundings just in case. This particular vine snake has been hanging around the vicinity for quite awhile. He hasn't been aggro, so we haven't relocated him, yet. Hubs was on board for some bbgun quick death, but I argued for the slithery creatures life. Anyhow, he isn't poisonous, just creepy*. Long live the snake in the Year of the Snake!

* Not a big fan of the limbless dudes.