So you could understand my story I have to tell you that I have been married twice, and have one daughter from my first marriage and three children from my second.
When my sixteen year old daughter was about five we had a discussion about her older sister visiting her father in Puerto Rico for summer vacation. When she heard that, her cute little face changed. She had the look of horror. That innocent comment created great commotion and confusion. She couldn't understand the concept that I was previously married, and that her older sister and her had a different biological father. She continued to process that information for days. She wanted to feel connected to her sister and she assumed my ex-husband was her father also. One morning she told her father, "dad, I am going to Puerto Rico with my real family". Her father's face was priceless. the mess in head grew bigger when she in her little head she thought that my first husband's children were mine and that I had abandoned them, so she needed to reunite. What a mess she had created in her head, or did I create the mess when I re-married and had more children? It's a matter of perspective. She finally understood and now we could laugh about it.
I thought that was all over but a few days ago my son - now 8- overheard my oldest daughter talking about a trip to Puerto Rico to visit her father. My son made a comment about his father, and they told him the truth..."you and I don't have the same dad". He's been in a state of shock since, and still can't believe that is real, he thinks someone is playing a bad joke on him. He still processing the information given. I am wondering what is going on inside his head. He probably thinks I abandoned some kids in Puerto Rico. Or maybe he will tell me that he will move away with his real family. I don't know why we as adults make life so complicated to cause children to go through such stressful moments.
It's interesting to see how both kids had the same reaction eleven years apart. After he recovers from the shock of the news we'll laugh about it, as of now he still working on it. I am happy that I am not having any more kids because I don't want to go through this once more.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
A Proud Moment
It's mothers day and I am not thinking of myself, but about my kids. It is because of them I have this label of Mother, that I carry with pride.
Since I have children I had many proud moments, and I recently enjoyed another one. On May 6 I went to the Senior Art Show at Emmanuel College and was impressed with my daughter's thesis which was on display. Her work reflected the intense process she went through. It was impressive!
She had made a book titled "Letters from No One". On the wall there there was a quote to describe her project and it said: "People spend a lifetime searching for happiness; looking for peace. They chase idle dreams, addictions, religions, even other people hoping to fill the emptiness that plagues them. The irony is that the only place they ever needed to search is within." Ramona L. Anderson
The book contained 15 anonymous letters that described difficult relationships and portrayed different degrees of abuse and trauma. Then she had 15 pictures to represent those letters. The depth of the letters was unbelievable and they were a great example of human resiliency. The pictures were even more powerful.
I then realized that my daughter has grown up so much since that day that I helped her move into the dorm at her college. There was the realization of this fantastic transformation, a complete metamorphosis. She isn't a girl anymore, she is a wonderful woman. There is so much of me in her, and so much of her in me.
I am so proud of my daughter Stephanie, because she is able to be herself, to realize her dreams, to make her own choices, to create a life that she is happy with, to use my teachings and adapt them to her own needs, she is above the influence. Now she will be graduating in May 14 and I will be there to celebrate that milestone, and to show her that she makes me a very proud mother.
To my beautiful Stephanie I need to apologize because her being my first born, she thaugt me as she grew and I made so many mistakes that still bring tears to my eyes. I made all the possible mistakes and more with her. I wish I had her witty when I was her age. She is such a great example to her sibblings, and myself, and I love that she is my daughter.
Since I have children I had many proud moments, and I recently enjoyed another one. On May 6 I went to the Senior Art Show at Emmanuel College and was impressed with my daughter's thesis which was on display. Her work reflected the intense process she went through. It was impressive!
She had made a book titled "Letters from No One". On the wall there there was a quote to describe her project and it said: "People spend a lifetime searching for happiness; looking for peace. They chase idle dreams, addictions, religions, even other people hoping to fill the emptiness that plagues them. The irony is that the only place they ever needed to search is within." Ramona L. Anderson
The book contained 15 anonymous letters that described difficult relationships and portrayed different degrees of abuse and trauma. Then she had 15 pictures to represent those letters. The depth of the letters was unbelievable and they were a great example of human resiliency. The pictures were even more powerful.
I then realized that my daughter has grown up so much since that day that I helped her move into the dorm at her college. There was the realization of this fantastic transformation, a complete metamorphosis. She isn't a girl anymore, she is a wonderful woman. There is so much of me in her, and so much of her in me.
I am so proud of my daughter Stephanie, because she is able to be herself, to realize her dreams, to make her own choices, to create a life that she is happy with, to use my teachings and adapt them to her own needs, she is above the influence. Now she will be graduating in May 14 and I will be there to celebrate that milestone, and to show her that she makes me a very proud mother.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Evolution
I was recently honored with an invitation by Professor King to be part of a panel of experts to speak at U- Mass Lowell. The theme of the night was Culture Care. The big event was last night.
It was my first time speaking in front of such a big crowd. There were over 150 people in attendance. Also in attendance were my clinical, my research, and my doctorate advisors. It was the first time I spoke in front of my professors in my professional role. I was the expert, not the novice. They were going to be learning from me.
As we enjoy the events of the night, and before I spoke I went back in time to when I started nursing school. I had big dreams. I was a shy, kind of nerdy young woman who was terrified of public speaking. I remembered the moment in which I chose to be a psychiatric nurse. That decision came after I met a patient that changed my life. She was my assigned case in the psychiatric hospital in where I did my rotation. She never knew how much she had impacted my professional destiny. Her body was frail, but her message to me was as powerful as they come. I remembered that professor that forced me to have sleepless nights studying, and the one that recommended me to be a professor in the area of mental health. Memories of my master's program followed and I remembered one of my advisors, and I felt like I heard her voice saying: "You could create movement by being still". She did, she had such great impact in my life as well.
In grad school I was one of a kind -maybe a novelty- since they were no more Latinos enrolled. I had the pressure to perform. I had to prove that I could do it and I did.
As I was walking to the podium I felt like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. I have evolved into a confident professional that could be called an expert.What a proud moment. I was able to see the look of approval in my professor's eyes as I spoke. I felt proud to represent Latinas, to represent Puertoricans, to represent my nursing school, to represent U-Mass, and more important to represent myself and what I am capable of accomplishing. I have grown quite much since that first nursing class. The most important thing is that I am humble about all this and never have forgotten that I am the product of a great family in which strong woman were the norm. I felt in love with nursing and that love is stronger than ever.
I will never forget that moment when I took the microphone and didn't need cue cards, or notes...I was standing on my own.
It was my first time speaking in front of such a big crowd. There were over 150 people in attendance. Also in attendance were my clinical, my research, and my doctorate advisors. It was the first time I spoke in front of my professors in my professional role. I was the expert, not the novice. They were going to be learning from me.
As we enjoy the events of the night, and before I spoke I went back in time to when I started nursing school. I had big dreams. I was a shy, kind of nerdy young woman who was terrified of public speaking. I remembered the moment in which I chose to be a psychiatric nurse. That decision came after I met a patient that changed my life. She was my assigned case in the psychiatric hospital in where I did my rotation. She never knew how much she had impacted my professional destiny. Her body was frail, but her message to me was as powerful as they come. I remembered that professor that forced me to have sleepless nights studying, and the one that recommended me to be a professor in the area of mental health. Memories of my master's program followed and I remembered one of my advisors, and I felt like I heard her voice saying: "You could create movement by being still". She did, she had such great impact in my life as well.
In grad school I was one of a kind -maybe a novelty- since they were no more Latinos enrolled. I had the pressure to perform. I had to prove that I could do it and I did.
As I was walking to the podium I felt like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. I have evolved into a confident professional that could be called an expert.What a proud moment. I was able to see the look of approval in my professor's eyes as I spoke. I felt proud to represent Latinas, to represent Puertoricans, to represent my nursing school, to represent U-Mass, and more important to represent myself and what I am capable of accomplishing. I have grown quite much since that first nursing class. The most important thing is that I am humble about all this and never have forgotten that I am the product of a great family in which strong woman were the norm. I felt in love with nursing and that love is stronger than ever.
I will never forget that moment when I took the microphone and didn't need cue cards, or notes...I was standing on my own.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Lost in Papers
Did I forget I am a blogger? No way, my classes has kept me hostage. I have been a victim of modern slavery, and the worse part is that I am paying to be a slave.
I am looking around and my bed looks like a disaster zone. Maybe an atomic bomb exploded in it last night and I didn't notice. Am I that numb? Instead of fire and smoke there is a mountain of papers, books, pens, research reports, journal articles, markers, and other school supplies. There are also items that I can't recognized, and perhaps I should. My mind is so full that I am constantly pushing things out to accommodate new ones. My mind feels as disorganized as my bed. I am ready to see the end and is close, very close.
Despite all, I had a new experience. The only threesome I had in my life happened this semester when I slept with two text books. Exciting, isn't it?
As I am reaching the end of the semester there is a feeling of exhaustion, mentally and physically. I have noticed that the amount of knowledge isn't the only area of my life that has increased. I noticed that my upper and lower back hurts, probably because of the several extra pounds that I am carrying on my upper and my lower body. This is called collateral damage, because it's not supposed to be happening but seems to be unavoidable. Students, we are such an oppressed group.
Despite all the stressors of this semester, I am happy and proud of my accomplishments. I am one step closer to my doctorare degree...a gift that I am giving to myself and a legacy that I will leave my children. What is that legacy? ...never give up, don't be afraid of challenges, follow your dreams, never allow anyone to put obstacles on your path, don't be afraid to dream and deam big remembering that unless you take the journey dreams don't come true. Without action dreams are only a thought.
I am looking around and my bed looks like a disaster zone. Maybe an atomic bomb exploded in it last night and I didn't notice. Am I that numb? Instead of fire and smoke there is a mountain of papers, books, pens, research reports, journal articles, markers, and other school supplies. There are also items that I can't recognized, and perhaps I should. My mind is so full that I am constantly pushing things out to accommodate new ones. My mind feels as disorganized as my bed. I am ready to see the end and is close, very close.
Despite all, I had a new experience. The only threesome I had in my life happened this semester when I slept with two text books. Exciting, isn't it?
As I am reaching the end of the semester there is a feeling of exhaustion, mentally and physically. I have noticed that the amount of knowledge isn't the only area of my life that has increased. I noticed that my upper and lower back hurts, probably because of the several extra pounds that I am carrying on my upper and my lower body. This is called collateral damage, because it's not supposed to be happening but seems to be unavoidable. Students, we are such an oppressed group.
Despite all the stressors of this semester, I am happy and proud of my accomplishments. I am one step closer to my doctorare degree...a gift that I am giving to myself and a legacy that I will leave my children. What is that legacy? ...never give up, don't be afraid of challenges, follow your dreams, never allow anyone to put obstacles on your path, don't be afraid to dream and deam big remembering that unless you take the journey dreams don't come true. Without action dreams are only a thought.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
A moment of Insanity
Getting ready to work out I realized that all my yoga pants were gone. Also my pajama pants are missing, along with my aeropostale boots. A great mystery since no one has seen them.
A few days later I see my 16 year old daughter looking great. Her style was so appealing, so well put together. I have to say that she always looks great, but there was something different. Where the heck did she get those clothes? Then I realized from where she got them, No she didn't buy them not steal them. They were mine, she found them in my closet. She looked great on my green jacket and my flower print flats. I asked when did you get those, and she said "about three months ago, found them in your closet."
Friday night, as my 14 year old daughter was getting ready for a sleepover. As I entered my bedroom, she asked me, can I wear your zebra print tank top? I hesitated for a moment, because that is one of a kind, then said, yeah go ahead. She then responded, "I already have it on, under my sweatshirt. Do you think it fits well?" She goes further and goes into forbidden territory- my shoe closet. She pulled out my zebra print shoes, yeah, those with the giant silver buckle. They are beautiful, and they have never been worn. She asked, "can I wear them? They will look great with the black leggings, and my black cardigan. I agree that they will look great. She looked beautiful in them. Then she goes back in my closet and pull out a cashmere cardigan. At that second I had a moment of insanity. My mind clouded, I couldn't think. She said "this will look great with my other outfit".
For a moment my I thought I was in a bad dream, and the worse part was is when I realized I wasn't. My daughters (all three) have a great sense of style, and it's nice that two of them find some of clothes cool enough for them to wear.
I guess I should be happy that my teenage children are able to fit in my clothes after I had 4 children. That last sentence felt good, real good.
A few days later I see my 16 year old daughter looking great. Her style was so appealing, so well put together. I have to say that she always looks great, but there was something different. Where the heck did she get those clothes? Then I realized from where she got them, No she didn't buy them not steal them. They were mine, she found them in my closet. She looked great on my green jacket and my flower print flats. I asked when did you get those, and she said "about three months ago, found them in your closet."
Friday night, as my 14 year old daughter was getting ready for a sleepover. As I entered my bedroom, she asked me, can I wear your zebra print tank top? I hesitated for a moment, because that is one of a kind, then said, yeah go ahead. She then responded, "I already have it on, under my sweatshirt. Do you think it fits well?" She goes further and goes into forbidden territory- my shoe closet. She pulled out my zebra print shoes, yeah, those with the giant silver buckle. They are beautiful, and they have never been worn. She asked, "can I wear them? They will look great with the black leggings, and my black cardigan. I agree that they will look great. She looked beautiful in them. Then she goes back in my closet and pull out a cashmere cardigan. At that second I had a moment of insanity. My mind clouded, I couldn't think. She said "this will look great with my other outfit".
For a moment my I thought I was in a bad dream, and the worse part was is when I realized I wasn't. My daughters (all three) have a great sense of style, and it's nice that two of them find some of clothes cool enough for them to wear.
I guess I should be happy that my teenage children are able to fit in my clothes after I had 4 children. That last sentence felt good, real good.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Stress, stress, and more stress
What is stress? Dictionary.com says, "is physical, mental or emotional strain". What is strain? Dictionary.com says it is "to stretch beyond a proper point or limit".
What do I think stress is?
Stress is...going to bed and dreaming about the schoolwork that you haven't complete yet.
Stress is...spending a Friday night reading a chapter on Operations Research Techniques and Interpretation.
Stress is...going to bed with a book, or worse than that... two books.
Stress is...having to get up on a Saturday and Sunday morning like you are going to work to be able to
complete your schoolwork by deadline.
Stress is... when your professor points out that in your posting you confused decision analysis with another
evaluation method.
Stress is...when your professor announces that you have to bring a SWOT analysis to the next class and you
don't even know what that is.
Stress is...having a paper due on Wednesday and haven't start the research yet.
Stress is...forgetting that your children will be on vacation for a week and not making any plans for them.
For the last two weeks I have experience what stress is. Not that I've never had, but I've experienced it in another level. I have been push and pulled in all possible directions. I have been up and down. My body have been tested. I have been trying to function at full capacity. I have been sleep deprived. I found out how it feels to be caffeine intoxicated after drinking about 10 cups of coffee a day to be able to accomplish what was expected of me. The worse isn't over yet, but let me tell you a secret... I wouldn't like it any other way. The only thing I regret is that I will not get the Mom of the Year Award.
What do I think stress is?
Stress is...going to bed and dreaming about the schoolwork that you haven't complete yet.
Stress is...spending a Friday night reading a chapter on Operations Research Techniques and Interpretation.
Stress is...going to bed with a book, or worse than that... two books.
Stress is...having to get up on a Saturday and Sunday morning like you are going to work to be able to
complete your schoolwork by deadline.
Stress is... when your professor points out that in your posting you confused decision analysis with another
evaluation method.
Stress is...when your professor announces that you have to bring a SWOT analysis to the next class and you
don't even know what that is.
Stress is...having a paper due on Wednesday and haven't start the research yet.
Stress is...forgetting that your children will be on vacation for a week and not making any plans for them.
For the last two weeks I have experience what stress is. Not that I've never had, but I've experienced it in another level. I have been push and pulled in all possible directions. I have been up and down. My body have been tested. I have been trying to function at full capacity. I have been sleep deprived. I found out how it feels to be caffeine intoxicated after drinking about 10 cups of coffee a day to be able to accomplish what was expected of me. The worse isn't over yet, but let me tell you a secret... I wouldn't like it any other way. The only thing I regret is that I will not get the Mom of the Year Award.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Impotence
Yesterday, I went to my son's Inventions Play at his elementary school. As always, the kids put so much effort and were able to put a great and entertaining show.
Despite all the positive energy I had a deep feeling of sadness and impotence. While getting ready I received a call for my son. It was his father. Apparently my boy had called his father the night before to invite him to the show, and he left a message since the call wasn't answered. When my son brought me back the phone I was able to read the look of disappointment on his face. I asked him, what's the matter?, and he responded, "he said he is going to try" . I knew what that meant, since I've heard that response many times before. I just wanted to hug him. I tried to cheer him up, but it didn't work.
Throughout the show I was able to observed that he was distracted and never stopped looking at that door. Looking for daddy and daddy never showed up. Why it wasn't enough that I was there? Why he had to be one that didn't get a hug from dad at the end of the show? Why he needs to be one feeling disappointed? Why he needs to be one feeling less than special?
At that moment I wished I was a superhero with magical powers that could take all those feelings away. Or maybe better, I could have created a holographic image of his dad that will have brought a smile to his face. But I am not a superhero. I don't have special powers. I can't make feelings of sadness disappear. At that moment I just had a great feeling of impotence. Since I was pregnant I promised him that I was going to protect him and at that moment, I couldn't do it. How painful that was, and still is.
I have to say that the only way I could try to minimize those feelings are by always being present, and to never take his hope away.
Despite all the positive energy I had a deep feeling of sadness and impotence. While getting ready I received a call for my son. It was his father. Apparently my boy had called his father the night before to invite him to the show, and he left a message since the call wasn't answered. When my son brought me back the phone I was able to read the look of disappointment on his face. I asked him, what's the matter?, and he responded, "he said he is going to try" . I knew what that meant, since I've heard that response many times before. I just wanted to hug him. I tried to cheer him up, but it didn't work.
Throughout the show I was able to observed that he was distracted and never stopped looking at that door. Looking for daddy and daddy never showed up. Why it wasn't enough that I was there? Why he had to be one that didn't get a hug from dad at the end of the show? Why he needs to be one feeling disappointed? Why he needs to be one feeling less than special?
At that moment I wished I was a superhero with magical powers that could take all those feelings away. Or maybe better, I could have created a holographic image of his dad that will have brought a smile to his face. But I am not a superhero. I don't have special powers. I can't make feelings of sadness disappear. At that moment I just had a great feeling of impotence. Since I was pregnant I promised him that I was going to protect him and at that moment, I couldn't do it. How painful that was, and still is.
I have to say that the only way I could try to minimize those feelings are by always being present, and to never take his hope away.
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