I am back.

So, yes, I have been gone for a long time...5 months since my last post.

Busy, busy. Between going back to school, then holidays, then the start of another semester, endless changes in my work and personal life, barely no time for anything.

But, everything is well! No complains! The new year brings new resolutions that don't last, but some linger in the back of our heads and work their way through so we can still work it all out. So now I exercise more than I did in January. I am trying to eat better, and have become better at keeping the house organized. Not an expert, just better.

My children continue to grow and amaze me. Everyday is a new discovery, a new adventure...

I am back, and I hope I stay...I have much to talk about, to catch up...I missed you all, and I hope you missed me too! And if you did not...well, I am back anyway!

Yes, we can!

So, I don't want to make this a political blog. Election day is over. History was made.

So just this once, I will recall the experiences of the last few days since we elected a new president.

In my native Puerto Rico, there is a new governor as well. And most people down there are quite happy with the result. They say, they wanted "cambio," change. A young, charismatic, vibrant governor with a big following. I guess he won by ample margin too.

My mother voted for him...remember? She did not want to vote...

Just like here, people wanted change.

We have a new president elect. Vibrant, charismatic. Many think he won just because his ethnicity. And, yes, that is important. Many of those with African descent thought this day would never come. And for those of us who are considered "people of color," it is important too.

But mostly, is about how people is thirsty for a new way to do things. Our president-elect may be just another politician. He will certainly make mistakes, as only humans do. However, this is the hope that something can be done. If a milestone as huge as this can be reached, then everything is possible.

And, even when this may be controversial, I will write it; this is my blog, right? I have a message for all the white supremacists outthere. Those who believe they are better and smarter just because they are white. You know what? You are not. You are just painfully and disappointingly ignorant. And I hope one day you understand that there is no such thing as a pure-bred white, or any race, in this country anymore. Even if there was, that does not make one better than the other. So stop your threats and your complains. You know who you are. I hope one day you see the light.

Ok, off my soap box now! No more politics...for a while!

What, you are NOT voting?!?!

I never voted until I moved here. I grew up in a home where my mother was very apathetic towards the whole democratic process of an election. My dad voted, but did not do much to instill any civic responsibility in me.

The other day, my mom dared to tell me she was thinking about NOT voting (elections to elect Puerto Rico's next governor are tomorrow as well-they do not participate in Presidential elections, but do elect a Resident Comissioner to Washington-and other stuff I can't remember-sorry!).

I about went through the phone..."MAMI, you have to vote! Do you know women could not vote until 100 years ago? Do you know how many risked their lives so we could have that right? Are you not going to complain about how things are the next 4 years? Because if you don't vote, you can't complain...." etc, etc, etc....you get the jist of it.

So, different opinions and preferences aside, please vote tomorrow, people! It is our duty. I work with some ladies that so matter of factly shrugged today and said, "Me? I am not voting"...

Their decision. Still, I wish I could get in their heads and convince them to go vote.

Please?

Family Vacation

I was out of town.

I was at Wisconsin Dells, a city in South Central Wisconsin, near Madison, which is known to many as the "Waterpark Capital of the world". I have seen it featured in travel shows and magazines.

Wisconsin Dells is a fun place. For someone like me, who comes from a tropical island where beaches were readily accessible year round, this is a great place to be in the summer. And it has plenty of indoor waterparks as well, which are kept at very warm temps. So I would not mind scaping there in the winter.

My father-in-law and mother-in-law were gracious enough to book a condo in one of the biggests resorts up at the Dells. So we had a family reunion. There were 17 of us. 10 adults, 7 kids.

Besides the natural friction that could result from having so many people and personalities together, in general, we had a great time. The children particularly had a blast from playing in the many water park attractions. We had three days of fabulous weather. And I have a nice tan.

Hanging out by the outdoor park, I felt as if I was back in the Island again. I felt nostalgic and sad at times. As a matter of fact, I felt sad leaving the Dells, the same way I feel sad after saying goodbye to Puerto Rico from the airplane window after a visit...

I did not leave any relatives back at the Dells. Just memories and wishes, just moments where, for a moment, I pretended to be at a resort in Puerto Rico.

I wish to go back again. The girls loved it...maybe in the middle of our brutal winter, we can escape...

What children know...

Today, driving home from work with my girls, my youngest asks, out of the blue, "Mommy, is Sharon still sick?." My heart sank. If you see my posts on "Life and Death", you will then know who Sharon is. She is a dear friend of our family who passed away a few months back. She adored my kids!

So, my little 2-year-old angel asked for her today, with her characteristic innocence. I could not help but to start crying. I told her, "No, mama. Sharon is no longer sick. She is in heaven with God, and she is very happy." She said, "Oh, with God, and Baby Jesus, and Papa Ruben, and..." so she proceeded to list my ancestors in that long list of people who went to heaven...

What do children know that we don't? What can they see that we can't? What is the amazing gift they have, that gets smothered by growing up, by society, by more rational people who do not believe in "non-sense"?

When my oldest was a baby, she would stare, as if looking at something I could not see. No, she was not zoning. There was purpose in the way she looked into space.

The other day, my little one told her father she "knew" Papa Ruben lived with Baby Jesus. She "knew" Baby Jesus and angels took care of Papa Ruben...a papa she never met...or did she? Then, I told my mother, "Marissa has a message for you from Papa Ruben." As I relayed the "message", I could hear my mother crying on the other side of the phone. They were tears of joy, bittersweet tears, just like the ones I had today when she asked if Sharon was still sick.

I said it before...I believe, because I do. Many may think this is all non-sense, quackery, whatever. I believe death is not the end, and there are many, many things outthere our minds and intellects are simply to small to comprehend. It is very humbling to admit this. And I don't like the idea that all this soul work would simply finish underground, eaten by worms.

What children know, that we don't...

Tacky, tacky, tacky, puertorican style!!!

tacky = crass; cheaply vulgar; tasteless; crude; gaudy; flashy; showy

etiquette = rules governing socially acceptable behavior

Tacky...that is one of those words you don't learn in English class in Puerto Rico. And if you do, is by the meaning of "sticky" as in glue. So when I moved here, it was one of those words that resonated in my head and stuck with me.

There is a parenting forum I visit in my area quite regularly. All kinds of opinions are discussed there. But when people ask for what is considered "acceptable" according to etiquette rules, that seems to ignite the most heated discussions on the subject.

I have been pondering on this. Ever since moving here, I have discovered many differences and similarities on what is considered "socially acceptable behavior" here and in the Island. And what is considered "tacky".

In my childhood, around the age of 6 or 7, there was a movie shown every afternoon, with a hostess who taught viewers what was considered good manners, etiquette. Lucy Pereda is her name. I cannot remember what the show was called, but I loved to watch Señora Pereda, elegant, poised, showing how to hold the knife and fork while cutting meat, how a señorita would seat properly, and all those other things proper ladies should learn.

Fast forward a "few" years, and I move to Wisconsin. I always considered I was respectful and considerate. But after living here for a few years, I start to discover what is tacky and what is not...

For example, around the time of my wedding, it was perfectly acceptable in Puerto Rico, and the trend, specially among "well-off" families, to include in wedding invitations a little card stating that a present was not necessary to attend the wedding and share that time with the couple, but requesting that, if the person really wanted to give one, to then make it a monetary gift. Yes, people were requesting money instead of presents! I asked about this, and more than one wedding stationary person glared at me as if I fell off a spaceship!

Of course, if you know me, you know what I ended up doing: I did how my people did it. So I am sure more than one guest commented how tacky that was...still, most of them came to the wedding, and by the end, the card box was packed. So, is not tacky to be whiney and complain to then end up doing whatever it is anyway? I think it is...

Then, comes the baby shower issue. When I was pregnant with my second child, my oldest was already five years old. We had moved once since her birth and got rid of most of my baby stuff. My brother-in-law's wife offered to throw a baby shower for me. Blasphemy!!! A few people I rather not mention scowled and were miffed I was having a second shower. Until I moved here, I did not ever give a second thougth to it: you are pregnant, you are having a baby, you get a baby shower. Simple. No matter if is number 1 or 10. I imagine that, if you asked a puertorican lady in the island about it, they would look at you like "huh?"...is one of those things you don't even ponder upon.

I ended up having my baby shower also...

I know, I know...I can probably hear a few say, "Well, you live in the United States now...". Um, excuse me...I have always lived in United States territory, for one. For another, the United States is a mix of many cultures that live here together. And many still preserve their traditions and their own rules for what they consider "socially acceptable"...I can do that, too.

So...funny thing, the word "etiquette" comes from the Old French word "estiquette", which means label or ticket. In Spanish, we use the same word, "etiqueta" for etiquette, and for labels. So, those who do not follow what some consider proper etiquette are labeled tacky...

If etiquette is supposed to dictate what is acceptable behavior, then the purpose is, I believe, to help people be more civil to one another. Why, then, people attack others who, in their opinion, do not follow their concept of etiquette? This is another thing as personal as religous beliefs and opinions, as unique as our own ethnic backgrounds and cultures. Why judge? Isn't that TACKY?

Divine Puertorican Food

So, last Saturday I ventured into the predominantly Hispanic area of Milwaukee, hunting for yummy Puertorican food.

I know how to cook some of it. However, I don't cook it often. To me, it tastes better when someone else cooks it. Besides, to make it with the real flavor I am used to means cooking with ingredients that are not exactly the best for my health. So Puertorican food is a treat. And if it is a treat, I don't want to cook it!

My grandma used to make killer "pasteles" (a mix of shreded plaintain, meat and other ingredients you wrap in a plaintain leaf and boil until cooked, similar to a "tamale"). She also grew her own "gandules" (pigeon peas)in the yard, and sat for hours taking them out of their pods. I helped her sometimes. I remember rainy afternoons doing this, our hands stained green when we were done. Unfortunately, she left us before being able to pass on her culinary talents to me.

Then, there was "Tity" (Aunt) Carmen. Oh, she could cook! She taught me how to make rice and other things. I was never able to equal the taste of her food, though. One of my cousins, Noemi, learned from her and cooks pretty good, almost like Tity Carmen. Yet, not the same.

People asks all the time if Puertorican food is the same as Mexican food. I like Mexican food. But no, is not the same. When you see a box of Spanish rice at the grocery store, is not the same rice we make. There are as many differences as our people is different.

I miss the smells of our food everywhere, as you can get when you visit the island. If you are driving along the coast line, you can smell the sea along with the wind bringing the "tastes" of the seafood cooked in those restaurants around there. If you drive through the mountains, you can smell the rice, a pig roast, pasteles, the beans...occasionally, even an accident..."Alguien quemo las habichuelas!" (Someone must have burnt the beans!).

And in the urban centers, the smells of quick cafe-style restaurants, "cafeterias", where you find a case filled with lightbulbs keeping different fried delicacies warm, like "empanadillas" (a form of pasty filled with either meat, cheese, or any filling your imagination can find), "pastelillos", "bacalaitos"(fried cod), "rellenos"(potato balls filled with meat and fried), "mofongos" (plantain balls), and all sorts of sweet pastries people pick up for a quick, inexpensive lunch, or just as a feel-good snack...

Ah, I miss those smells. When I go visit, is the food that makes it all feel as if I never left. The foods of my childhood and youth. The tastes that are as fresh as the memories.

Yes, I went and had me some Puertorican, yummy food. I can't wait to do it again!

"Puertorican blonde"

The first time I heard that term, I cringed. For those of you unfamiliar, it refers to the strange shade hair turns when your natural hair color is black as tar and you try to make it anything ligher than a light brown. Then, if your skin is darker than olive, add the contrast, and there you have it: puertorican blonde.

I remember always hearing my mother talking about how she thought people with darker skin should not be blonde because it seems "unnatural". Yeah, right, mom. Like using hair color is natural to begin with! Ha!

Now, I am not criticizing using haircolor at all. You see? I colored my hair for the first time when I was 30, because I wanted to cover some grays, and wanted a change. After that, I have experimented with different shades. And because many people, when they first see me, don't think I fit the "typical" puertorican image they have in their heads, I kind of got away with whatever color I put in my hair.

A former stylist, who swore she must have been Hispanic in a previous life, proclaimed she knew everything about handling 'ethnic' hair (whatever that means). So she knew about "Puertorican Blondes". She used the term once when she was trying to do highlights on me, and said we needed to be careful or my hair would turn in that dreaded shade. When I looked at her puzzled, she replied, "Go to that neighborhood where most Hispanics live, and you will see it all over...". Wow! Another strong stereotype my people have to deal with in a neighborhood not far from mine! And, you know what? Knowing how the ladies in the area are, I don't think they care...

To me it all comes down to perception: a bad haircolor job will show no matter who you are. Some hair colors will match certain complexions better than others. Some hair colors will make me look washed out, while others will eliven me. Some hair colors will enhance the hair's beauty and looks while others won't. With proper care, the hair will stay as healthy as possible and will not look brassy and brittle.

So, is not about being from any specific ethnic group. Playing with hair color is fun, but has to be done carefully, the same way you choose the appropriate clothes or make up. As for the ethnicity of it, who cares? And, who knows? Maybe one of these days I will dare to go to the salon, bleach my hair and become the proverbial "Puertorican Blonde" myself, just for the heck of it!

On Raising Children...

So, I spend a great deal of my cybertime at a local parenting forum. Bunch of great ladies, I have to say.

And is a great place to exchange ideas and support one another when it comes to parenting-and other stuff also.

It is from there I got the idea for my blog today.

Of how different parenting styles are. How most people are not wrong or right in the way they raise their children. What ones find normal, others find bizarre. What work for some, does not work for many, and vice-versa.

One thread was dedicated at comments strangers make to mothers about their children. The nerve of some people, I tell you! Some of the stories made my jaw drop.

But in particular, one situation touched me closely. I commented on how I got glares from people at the mall when I had my baby's ears pierced; she was four month's old. I also commented that in Puerto Rico that is a very common practice.

Another mom comented she knew a Hispanic family who belonged to a religion that considered body piercings a sin. Well, yeah, those exists. Still, a lot of little girls in Puerto Rico get their little ear bling before the age of one.

Which led me to ponder about this:

Not to use a cliche, but children do not come with instruction manuals. You learn on the go. At first is overwhelming and at times frustrating, but you get the hang of it...eventually-hopefully! We all go through that, and I bet some of the people who glare at the mall, or offer advice nobody asked for are parents who went through that themselves. What is it that make people be so rude? You know what makes me laugh? The well-intentioned ones who offer the advise, even when they don't have children...oh, ignorance is blissful...A little person somewhere in my brain says, while listening to them..."You just wait!"...while laughing hysterically.

Still, I wish them the best. As of me...I have grown a skin thick enough as a mother to know when to smile and ignore, or when to give a witty comeback. And not to let the "mythical" Puertorican temper flare up... after all, Puertoricans are known to be nosey, loud and criticize everything, parenting styles of other ethnic groups included. Because we love our children too. Which is what it all boils down too...love.

Body Image...Puertorican style.

So, I moved here in 1989. I was young and skinny.

Now, I am a little less young and a lot less skinny.

I remember, growing up, how the woman in my family were all concerned with weight. How I would hear, "Oh, be careful; with your genes, you are prone to become fat!". And all kind of comments of the like. I was little, but before long, when I started to approach puberty, and the hormones dictated that now fat was to be stored, the comments were then directed at me. I am surprised that no more woman I knew from that generation did not develop some kind of eating disorder. In high school, I remember my friends and I trying all sort of crazy diets, diet pills, and the like. Did not work one bit. Welcome to womanhood! Our body was to rearrange itself time and again. My mother was always slightly self-concious about her figure. She did not have, according to her, the figure most puertoricans would consider "perfect". And, by God, she had to transfer her insecurities to me. She did not want me to gain weight, as my body would not look "good enough" because of the shape I had. My shape, apparently, did not conform what somebody thought was the ideal figure either. The ideal puertorican figure...

It took many years to realize that my body is beautiful in its unique way. No, I did not have the "rear" or hips people there think I should have. I do have, though, pretty legs, the kind THEY like!

It wasn't until I moved here that my self-esteem regarding my body improved considerably. It alreay had improved, but the next kick came here. I get to this part of the world and I discover, first, that most men here had a different expectation from women's bodies. Also, I learned that I moved to a place ranked high when it comes to number of obese people, and is alarming, healthwise. But that put things into perspective for me. I used to work at this place, and my boss and his wife both insisted I was way too skinny. They were a little older. But one day, his previous administrative assistant came in to pick up some papers, and when she left, I said to him, "Now I understand why you people bug me so much about being so skinny...". Frankly, I meant no disrespect for the woman. Simply, it was what crossed my head, how everything is a matter of perception. I was NEVER called skinny in Puerto Rico...well, probably the last time, I was in 7th grade, and I already felt a little chubby because of my mother's obsession with weight. So my neighbors laughed when they saw me with a full leotard because I was going to exercise to lose weight...they laughed so hard! But after hitting puberty, no one ever listed "skinny" in their list of adjectives about me...until landing in Wisconsin.

Now, almost 19 years later, I am, we could say, satisfied with my body. Could I be in better shape? Perhaps. Could use losing a few post-pregnancy pounds...post-pregnancy almost 3 years later? Come on!

But yes, I could use losing them and also exercise more, more for health reasons than appearance.

And that is the message I want for my children and all young woman outthere killing themselves to be thin...in the Midwest, in Puerto Rico, in the whole world. Healthy does not mean stick thin. It means fit, toned, with good cardiovascular health. I don't know how the eating disorders are in Puerto Rico today...and, sadly, I would not be surprised if the statistics were even higher than here...