Graduation June 9, 2011

About a month ago I got a letter from my son’s school (which i really like) saying that his class Pre-K3 was going to participate in the school’s graduation ceremony. I smiled ’cause to me graduations come when you are 17 and graduate High School and the 21 and graduate college. Those were the only two graduations I had. One in Nicaragua and one in Boston (with 20k of my closest friends).

Don’t get me wrong I thought it was super cute the whole VPK and Kinder graduation but as I kept on reading I was somewhat surprised. His class was performing Head,Shoulders, Knees and Toes and I had to dish out $16 for his outfit and tickets, yes, tickets were $10 per person. I wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of having to pay $36 when I could see him perform for free at home.

And so last Sunday was the graduation. He wore his outfit (red shorts & t-shirt from Walmart) and we headed to the local High School auditorium. The place was packed! The program we were handed was pretty similar to a Playbill – six pages long. My son’s performance was on page 3 and when we got to it I couldn’t believe myself. I started taking pictures – I only took four – but decided against it because I was missing out. I was so proud you would think the kid was getting a Noble Price or had just scored the winning points for the Heat. This rendition of HSKT was worth the money for sure. I have no pictures to show for it. Only the memory.

As he performed I thought about my Mom and how she must feel the same for me and my sister. It was all so clear.

Today at school he got a diploma and a ribbon that said “Congrats PreK 3″. When we got home I asked him to put it on so I could take some pictures. He did. He ripped the diploma. He made faces at the camera. He took off the ribbon and threw it on the floor. It was like seeing myself and my mom I guess we do turn into our mothers.

PS. Te quiero Mami!

Just finished reading @TikiTikiBlog and June 9, 2011

Just finished reading @TikiTikiBlog and memories of my own delivery come to mind http://ow.ly/5eau0 #latinablogger

Full Calvicie May 25, 2011

En mi rapido paso por Starbucks el día de hoy escuche esta conversación entre dos amigas. Aunque trate de no escuchar, por que es como falta de respeto, mientras mas avanzaba la conversación mas dificil se hacia no prestar atención y no reirse.
La conversación es todavia mas memorable porque las dos amigas estarian en sus treintas y se veian como las mamás de los compañeritos de clases de tus hijos.

Amiga1: Epale!
Amiga2: que mas? te iba a llamar a preguntarte algo , pero ya que te veo por aqui pues sera por aqui…
Amiga1: Dimelo
Amiga2 : La que nos depila sigue en el mismo lugar?
Amiga1: Si, esta depilando en su casa.
Amiga2: me quiero pelar completa jajajaja
Amiga1: como? La que te conte? calva??? y eso?
Amiga2: bueno, no se. no, no tengo a nadie que me la vea, pero es que es lo que se usa ahora, ya nadie tiene pelos por alla.
Amiga1: en serio?
Amiga2: si mija,
Amiga1: como te enteraste de eso? ya no es brazilian bikini? es full calvicie?
Amiga2: aja
Amiga1: Virga yo no estoy en na’!
Amiga2 : Nueno tu sabes que trabajo rodeada de mujeres y hablamos de cualquier mierda jajajaj
Amiga1: pues pelese!!
Amiga2: Y los hombres tambien. pa que te enteres
Amiga1: eso duele mucho! yo me quedo con mi jungla.
**Pausa** LOS HOMBRES tambien???
Amiga2: jajajja sip
Amiga1: Y xq? para que se les vea mas grande?
Amiga2: Bueno, creo que es para no tener que estar sacandose pelos enredados de los dientes y la garganta. Todos los maridos, novios, amantes y etc de mis compañeras son CALVOS.
Amiga1: ah! coño pero entonces eso es si das mamadas. Mejor q este carajo se quede bien peludo
Amiga2: tu si eres comica. Bueno mija, de vez en cuando hay que hacerlo, asi que la verdad es mejor que este pelado o no?
Amiga1: Sera. Le voy a decir, pero la ultima vez que le dije que se pelara se afeito y despues andaba con piquiña
Amiga2: ay! si ese es el peo con la afeitada
Amiga1: Bueno depilate! Pero despues lo tienes que mantener y conseguirte un macho
Amiga2: Me quiero hacer el laser, algun dia
Amiga1: en la cocoya?
Amiga2: Claro gafa
Amiga1: Es q yo nunca habia escuchado de laser ahi. Si del bikini…pero nunca me imagine entero
Amiga2: ay mijita, cuantos años es que tienes tu?
Amiga1: Que zanahoria he resultado
Amiga2: Parace un comentario de mi abuela
Amiga1: Y tambien te vas a hacer la resconstruccion vaginal??
Amiga2: No, eso no , yo la apreto y ya
Amiga1 (y yo!): jajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajaja
Amiga2: jajajajajajajajajajaja Hacia tiempo que no me reia asi

Me hubiera encantado decir que me pude quedar a escuchar el resto de la conversación pero tenia que llegar al trabajo…pero no me pude aguantar las ganas de compartir porque despues de todo la risa todo lo cura. Y ya saben todo el mundo a depilarse!!!

Foto con Santo May 11, 2011

Pope John Paul II was beatified on May 1.
I brought the picture down to show Ariel. As soon as he saw it he said “Family!” so I pointed to my Mom – circa 1985 – and asked who is that? He immediately said Abuela. When I asked if he knew who the kid was (me!) he said: ARIEL!
Best thing ever that could have happened with this picture which I have kept under wraps for a long time.

Motherhood May 7, 2011

The white room startled me. I could feel people touching me. I could hear the nurses joking. A blue sheet blocked my view. It seemed like a party had started on the other side of the room. I felt all alone, sad, cold and lost.
Ten eternal minutes passed before they brought him over to me, swaddled in a white blanket with pink and blue stripes. He looked swollen and wrinkled. His eyes were shut and covered in Vaseline. The nurse placed him on my chest for a second. I tried pushing my head back a bit to see if I could get a better look. My hands were still tied to the operating table. I couldn’t touch him.
“Hola, Ariel. Soy Helena, tú Mamá.” was all I was able to say. Or think. And he was taken away.
As my Doctor congratulated himself on a job well done, I could not help but wonder where the feeling of immediate, radiating, wonderful love was. Maybe if I had looked at him longer it would have sparked.
Three days later, in the middle of our first sleepless night at home, I was still waiting for Hollywood’s version of maternal love. It wasn’t happening. Instead I was petrified. I wanted to go back to the hospital. I wanted to have the nurses around until he was at least eighteen. I did not feel ready for this. What was I thinking? I knew I wasn’t Mother material. I felt I was doing it all wrong. I was supplementing his feedings with formula, I had let him sleep at the nursery in the hospital, and now all I could do was stare at him.

“I’m a horrible mother.” I would tell my husband over and over again.
“No, you are not. You are the best mother he could ever have.” He would reply.
“I am?”
I was looking for a sense of security that my husband’s words could not provide. I searched for it on the entire collection of respected child rearing books, and mommy blogs, but I didn’t find it there either.
I would tremble at the thought of being alone with Ariel. As fate would have it my husband had to travel to China, and my mother went back to Venezuela.
Ariel and I were home alone.
“Well Ariel, it’s just the two of us. We can do this.” I said.
The pep talk was more for me than him. Alone for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week with a two month old, I had to put my doubts aside.
My breasts were swollen, my back was hurting, my house was dirty, and I had to take five minute long showers, but I was actually starting to enjoy it. Every nap, bath and playtime was a joyful event. A smile or laugh an incomparable success.
Without realizing it, I began to understand what unconditional motherly love is. And, yes, it is beautiful. It is being tired and worried. It means having no privacy. It is being puked, peed and pooped on, and still loving the child. That is the magic of motherhood.
A year later, as I quietly watched my son play with his little cars, it hit me.
Being a mother is not a series of theories, or a long list of advise. It is getting down and dirty. It is not about being perfect, but being present in the moment and trusting yourself. Motherhood does not define me; it pushed me to form a better definition of myself. It does not make me a woman; it celebrates my womanhood. As Ariel and I looked at each other, our strong silent bond of love and acceptance was visible. I got down on the floor, grabbed a little car, and drove it gently up his arm. Laughter filled the sunny afternoon. I was happy. I was in the motherhood.

May 3, 2011

“I want to drive” he tells me so sure of himself from the driver’s seat.
“You have to wait until you are 18.” I’m standing by the passenger door waiting for him to jump into his booster and see his face light up as he hears 18. Eighteen was the number of eggs he brought home from school after his Easter egg hunt. “How old are you now?”
He brings his hand up – trying to only show three fingers. “Three”
“Ok. So you are not eighteen”
“Noooooooooooooooo!” he screams as if 18 was such a big number.
“So come on back.” He listens to me this time and moves. I buckle him up. I kiss him and hug him and cherish every second of our romance.
I get in the car and realize he had just done everything like I do. Get in the car – turn on the a/c – turn on the radio – get into gear. “Will you drive me around when you are 18?” I ask realizing it will probably be 16.
“Yes!”
“Where are you going to take me? To work?”
“Yes.”
I smile. We are at stop sign. A young man driving a van is stopped next to us an older man sits next to him. They are serious and silent. Will that be us in 15 years? I hope not. I think about writing all the things he tells me in a notebook and then remember this blog – I should print out some of the posts and make something for him.

When we get home he asks me to watch the Frogs in School – it is some Leapfrog movie he has seen like a million times in the last three weeks. Netflix is not coming on. I am on the phone making a payment. He takes the debit card off my hand and I don’t resist. After all the shredder is off. Right? We turned it off. Right? Right? Wrong. The blue card becomes nothing in a matter of seconds. I’m just saying NO. He is laughing and says “NO” back to me. The guy at Chase found it hilarious when I said I needed a new debit card ’cause the other one my son had destroyed. I’ll get a new one in what seems a long time. And yes the shredding thingy has been unplugged.

An AXN Reunion April 23, 2011

Twelve years ago I came to Miami with two suitcases, no money but the certainty only a 23 year old could have about life. I was going to get a job at a cable television network broadcasting from Miami to Latin America. I got here in January and in May started working for Sony Pictures in AXN their latest TV channel broadcasting to Latin America.
I worked at AXN for four magical years that will never be replicated. The group of people I had the pleasure of working with was unique, we truly were a family. And like family I would spend my weekends, holidays, and hurricane warnings with them. They saw me grow up. They watched me fall in love- they were witness to Abraham’s proposal, his moving in, our marriage. I forged a strong friendship with Sonia, Mary and Evelyna. I remember how we would think we would be editing promos for Alias into our 60′s! We would retire from this wonderful place. And then as the corporate world usually does it threw reality into our perfect fantasy world and with it came lay-offs.
This week Maria Elena one of my former co-workers came to visit from Spain and was able to do what we haven’t been able to do in the past seven years – she brought us together in the same room. Needless to say it was amazing to see her, talk about her trips and her art/photography.
It was amazing to see our CEO – Claudio looking as charming as ever and still calling us, all of us, Flaca! His spirit and smiles are still as infectious as they were in 1999. I wished I hadn’t been so intimidated by his position 12 years ago ’cause this dude surely is a down to earth soul. My friends Sonia and Evelyna were there. Evelyna is for sure the current owner of the Picture of Dorian Grey – she has not aged a day. Sonia is my soul mate, we understand each others half sentences, know our train of thought, don’t have to speak to know what we are thinking. It was great to see Adri always fashionable, intelligent and fabulous. I was able to joke and dance with Tony, catch up with Sandra, Elvirita and Lili, laugh with Guillermo and Kenis (ok! I had Kenis sit on my lap for a picture LOL).
And then it was great to meet up with my 23 yr old self and realize that at 35 I have some things worked out! I still joked, laughed, and was very loud but part of me inside felt more serene.
I look forward to seeing this guys again. Thank you for the great memories and love you all
Helenita

PS. Best part of the night was when Guillermo asked me “Where is Helena?”

No take a bath & other rants April 22, 2011

It’s been a while since I’ve done my ranting-whining thingy on the blog. Sometimes it’s just easier and faster to speak it but then I’m like – I should blog about this. For example:
- My car was in the garage for a month. Which meant I was walking a LOT around Miami Lakes. I’m actually trying to work that into a story…which I must go into.
-Abraham’s family from France is visiting. They have been here since the 8th and they’ve been staying on and off at my house. If you know me – you know how I feel about this and there is NOT enough space on cyberspace to handle my thoughts on private space and not wanting to share. Then there’s the point about them not being my family really and Abraham having a sucky schedule and me having to cater to people. Not good at catering. PLUS their two girls got sick (as in chicken pox and pink eye) and I was TOTALLY freaking out about them being in my house and getting my son sick. Even though as one of them put it “It’s better if he gets chicken pox now that he is younger”. Thank you I shall be the judge of that. But really it all comes down to me – I’m just not good at having people stay at my house. AND that is why I stay at a hotel when I go to France because I am not good at staying at other people’s house either. Except if it is very close family…and still…not the comfiest situation for me. I am WEIRD. Moving on
-Food Trucks. Finally gave in to the Food truck craze here in the MIA. They visited Miami Lakes YEAY!!! and of course we went to try it out. It was a family gathering – as in MY family — the one I’ve created and enjoy too much. My sister, Nanana, Apa and Baby N, plus my cousin who just moved from P.R. The kids were having fun. I had an awesome grilled cheese from CheeseMe and up to the point where roaches started making their apperance – the people watching was fun My sister had Latin Burger and thought it was good.
-NO take a bath – carrier phrase of the month. Not only does it apply to him but also to me. NO Mamon take a bath. No take a bath. NO. No. NO. The word is no! And that is also our favorite youtube video lately. Lovely
-SuperNanny Would not agree BUT! I traded beds with Ariel. He moved into my bed, where he sleeps with Abraham (who sleeps in the middle of the bed and in L shape) and Mafaldo my farting bulldog who has been completely impossible lately and won’t sleep or let me sleep. I moved into Ariel’s bedroom. I have had the most amazing peaceful sleep for 2 nights. Take that Super Nanny.
-I was accepted into Juniper Summer Writing Institute at UMass Amherst. I sent out my application last week. I was very happy about it yesterday. No one seemed to share in my joy LOL! I kid. I called my mom and she was happy about it. Did not tell my sister ’cause she is stressing about wedding planning. Called Abraham to tell him and he couldn’t talk. Told John at work and he was like “What?”. Told my boss during dinner – he congratulated me and then asked “What’s that?”. Posted in on Facebook and got congratulated. So see, people care and are happy for me. So now begins the second phase the should I go? The should I wait for VONA? the will work approve it? the why did they let me in? They probably let anyone who applies in. Ah! The lovely insecurities. Shut up crazy voice. I was accepted ’cause I am amazing and my Mom is not crazy when she says I ROCK!
-Fairchild is free today. So, if you excuse me I must go have a discussion with a three year old about why it is vital that we take baths. The dog is barking. The phone is ringing. The crayons are on the floor. The dining table is becoming a mess again (I had cleaned it up in honor of our visitors). The truck is working. I am still reading Women Food and God. I watched Eat Pray Love and Hello Dolly this week. I am taking Juice Plus and vitamins. I am watching Handy Manny.
Have an amazing week friends. I LOVE YOU all

Ash Wednesday March 25, 2011

My relationship with writing is an ever changing one. As generic as this may sound I have always wanted to write and there are notebooks with the stories I would dictate to my mother when I was a child. I think I even won a couple of school contests but then I stopped writing.
In BU I knew I wanted to get back into the writing world but I felt mortified at the notion of being a journalist. I didn’t trust myself to be able to follow inverted pyramids, Chicago styles or to be 100% objective (who is?) and so decided to go into screenwriting. Those two years of screenplays were fantastic – I wrote about my maternal grandparent’s love story, I adapted Gioconda Belli’s wonderful novel Waslala and some other stuff I don’t even remember. My teachers Kae and Stephen Geller were complete geniuses and I owe everything I know about characters to them.
The day before my graduation I heard that 90% of screenwriters were unemployed and really wished someone had told me that before, not that I would studied anything else.
I moved to South Africa, that’s where home was at the time, and hoped for a sabbatical. My mother had other plans and sent me to work at the Information Ministry three weeks after I arrived. I entered the world of television, which I of course considered a lesser medium than film, with the confidence only a 22 year can have. At Lesotho Television I learned about production, editing, content, and imagination. We had to create something from nothing and I had a blast. At the peak of my shortly and extra successful career at LTV my parents retired and were headed back to Venezuela. I moved to Miami certain that I would find a job as a T.V. producer for a Spanish speaking channel broadcasting to Latin America. I did.
By this point writing was in the back burner. I got married. Had a kid. Changed jobs. Tried to be a copywriter (and that certainly didn’t work) and about a year and a half ago got the never to call Marcela Landres a NY editor. That conversation changed me, she was very honest, helpful and full of advise. Her best ones? Take classes and get a writing group.
As Marcela suggested I looked into UCLA Extension and enrolled in a non-fiction class. I was petrified. The inner critic in me is of gigantic proportions. Jose and Joel, my coworkers, had to read through essays every week and I would question and question – waiting to hear how much I sucked. What can I say? They were kind in their comments and their support. I finished 2009 happy that I had found writing again and wanting to go at it like there was no tomorrow.

The beginning of last year found me taking an Intro to Fiction class. The last assignment for the class was to turn in a short story. My procrastination kicked in the deadline was fast approaching and I was still story-less. The only sane choice at the time was to expand on one of the exercises I had turned in earlier in the quarter, one about a middle aged couple who (yes, you guessed it) hate each other. It was all quite simple really, she was having breakfast, he came back from the doctor to give her the sad news of his impending death. She is thrilled.
I began to expand on my 300 word exercise on Ash Wednesday of last year and decided – for good luck and because I had no idea where it was going I decided to give the story that name. Then things got a bit more complicated than I had initially planned. My characters didn’t like their names, the wife didn’t want to be just a house wife, the husband did not want to be evil and their daughter kept on popping up and refused to go away. I walked around with them all day as it was impossible to get them out of my head.
Turns out my short story was a bit more complex than expected and through the suggestion of one of my class mates I signed up for UCLA Extension’s Novel I with the super talented Jessica Barksdale Inclan.
The idea was to flesh out the story into a novel. And let me stop here to say that I am still at awe of the word novel and have to pinch myself over and over again to see if its real and the 99 pages I turned in yesterday as my last homework for Novel III say it is. However this quarter I have struggled to get any writing done. I felt stuck and lost – and had no better way of putting it than I lost my mojo.
In my desperation I sent Jessica an email saying I did not want to be whiny but all I did was whine. The daughter had hijacked the story and I could not get out of her zone. I had no idea how else I could kill the husband. I had lost my evil edge on the wife. Life was getting in the way. I did not want to write one more word.
Jessica came to the rescue and told me exactly what I needed to hear: keep writing.
But didn’t she read my email? I did not want to write…you see writing wasn’t being fun anymore. It took work, and time and discipline and pushing myself.
This morning I got the last comments on what I have so far. There is so much writing that still needs to be done. This story keeps getting bigger and bigger. I am not sure how many more Ash Wednesday will go by before I finish this Ash Wednesday but all I can do is write and move forward.
So what have I learned so far: not writing is denying a part of me. I should read as a I write. It took Jonathan Franzen about 9 years between novels. I have to listen to my characters they know what they are doing even if I don’t. When I don’t feel like writing that’s when I have to do it the most. In this writing world I will find caring and generous people who will teach me all they know – like my teachers Jessica Barksdale and Lisa Cron. I will also find amazing friends like Joyce and Willona who will cheer me like I’m the MVP of writing.
Next step? A break. A breather. Hopefully a Summer Writing workshop. Finishing some essays. Attempting to write a different short story (this one about Miami) and getting at least another 99 pages into Ash.
In closing and to sum it all up I shall now quote the great Yo Gabba Gabba philosophers: Keep trying, keep trying, don’t give up, never give up.

Wednesday: I’m in Love!! March 23, 2011

Ok. I know the lyrics say “Friday I’m love” but today is Wednesday and I am totally madly in love with Ariel. Like every other night he had dinner, refused to take a bath, then did not want to get out of the bath, ran away from his pajamas, got in bed, and then asked us to read a book. Only tonight after the book was finished he did not want to go to sleep. Following the Super Nanny steps I put him back in bed once, twice, three, five, six times – it seemed like he finally was asleep but then Abraham noticed he was asleep on the floor outside the room. When I went to put him back in bed I realized he was very awake.
We started to play around – making noises, pretending to snore and then he started to sing the days of the week. I joined in trying to remember the lyrics to The Cure. He caught on immediately, singing and jumping on the bed. I then sang a bit of Manic Monday and moved on to Singing in the Rain and Wake Me Up Before You Go Go. At this point Abraham walked in to the room to find us jumping and singing and laughing. Ariel and I were sent to bed where he giggled, held hands and I enjoyed every second of my baby asking me to sing a song.

Ah! Ariel I’m in love.