A legacy of service

A few years back, I was attending a retreat centered around the 7 Habits of Highly Effective people.  One of the exercises they had us do that week was to write down a mission statement for your life.  I thought at first that was kind of silly.  A mission statement for my life?  I just want to be happy!  Do I really need to write that down?

They explained that companies use mission statements to keep their goals in mind, and so we should create one for our lives.  I set out to create mine.  Turns out it was more difficult than I had anticipated.  I eventually came up with five things, one of those "leave a legacy in the lives of my children".

What exactly is a legacy?  The dictionary says it is "something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past".  So it can be just about anything.   Their values, their faith, their bad habits (ha!).  

Events of this past weekend and this week have gotten me thinking about my legacy to my kids.  What do I want them to carry with them into the world the day they leave my home?  This last weekend, at the conference I attended, this lady talked about how she learned about service by watching her parents.  She never realized other parents weren't like hers, involved in the community, and always helping others.  She simply thought all families just did that.

I want to leave a legacy of service in my kids.  I want them to count their blessings, and share them with those less fortunate.  I wish for them to have a heart of service, a giving heart.  I realize that's not something you can teach by just telling someone "you should be charitable, you should share your blessings with the less fortunate".  You have to lead by example.

I hope one day, when my children leave my home, they will have learned that sometimes, giving money is not enough.  Sometimes people just need (as the song says)  "someone to lean on".  Someone to listen.  Someone to care.  And that the best gift we can give others is our compassion, not our money.  It doesn't matter if you have no money, you always, always have something valuable to give someone in need: your time, your compassion.

The Bucket List

I created a bucket list a few years.  Things I want to do before I (literally) kick the bucket.   I have put it aside, since are pricey (going to Japan); some are risky (sky diving) and some I had just forgotten all about.

It wasn't until we set down this homeschooling path that a friend reminded me of that item on my list:  teaching.

I'm as terrified as I would have been if I was going into a school to teach.  These are my kids, we can drive one another insane on occasion and now we get to spend more time with one another and learn together. 

But no one knows them better than I, no one understands them better so I'm confident we will adjust and move forward in this journey and be glad we took it.

I'm also excited I'm starting to cross things off the list before the proverbial 40 runs around! 

A Thankful Heart

I grew up in a Christian home, attended a Christian school most of my life, and I've been a practicing Christian for as long as I can remember. But praying in public has never been "my thing".

The church I grew up in was very formal.  We didn't say "amen" to show we agreed with the pastor's remarks during the sermon.  There was no such thing as "revival".  We prayed in church, we prayed in school, we prayed at home.  In public areas? Not so much.

I'm an introvert, so that whole idea of praying in public has always made me uneasy.  Not because I doubt my faith but because introverts like me don't care to be on the spotlight.

My children are being raised in a different church than the one I grew up in.  They have been to revival, they have heard "amen" during service, and prayed before meals at church and at home.

I've always given thanks for the food on the table.  If you know me well, you know my family has been through a lot, so I never take any blessings for granted.  I know so many go without so I'm grateful for the blessings I have.  But I've never been one to pray over my food at a restaurant.  Remember that introvert thing?  Add that to the fact praying in public always felt "fake" to me.  I felt as if I was trying to call attention to myself.   I'm not passing judgement on those who do it, I'm simply sharing why I never had.

A month or so ago, we went out to eat with the kids; which isn't that different from all other times we go out to eat, as it seems we usually go with them everywhere.  Anyway, once our order arrived, one of my boys said " wait, don't eat yet, we have to bless the food".

I have to admit, I was shocked.  We say the blessing at home, usually three times, because each child wants to say their version.  But we have never done in  public.  So I was surprised at his suggestion.

So we bowed our heads and he blessed the food.  I'm sure people looked at us, and in all honesty, I wasn't even aware at that moment.  All I could think about was how proud I was to know my children have thankful hearts.

All I've ever wanted was for my kids to be thankful for all their blessings, and to share those blessings with others.  It never occurred to me they would be sharing that blessing with me. 


 

My kids are perfect... NOT!

Do you ever hear your parents voice inside your head, saying something to you about how to behave when you were at someone else's house?  I do, all the time.

My parents were very clear about their expectations of me.  When it came to school grades and my behavior while at school, there was no doubt I needed to be at my best.  They didn't necessarily expect straight As, they did expect me to do my very best always.

The same extended to my behavior outside the house.  I was a "reflection of them" when I was not at home.  If I misbehaved, it reflected badly on them as parents.  My parents were far from perfect but I knew they were serious about their expectations of me. I always knew I had to be polite when I was at someone's house, to say please  and thank you, and to be respectful of all elders, regardless of who they were.

It is now my turn to be a parent, and to remind my kids they are a reflection of me when they are outside our home.  They are expected to be polite and respectful at all times, and I expect any adult who sees them acting like brats to tell me so I can address it.

I'm not naive to think my kids are perfect.  They can drive me crazy in a millisecond, and there is very little (if anything!) that you can tell me about them that I don't already know.  If someone tells them they have said something rude or have misbehaved while in their presence, my children know I will take that very seriously.  Every time they are going somewhere without me they get the "speech" as to how they need to behave.

Do they always behave when I'm not around?  I'm sure they have moments but hopefully those are far and few in between.  And hopefully the adults supervising them have said something to them (and to me!) so we can correct the issue.

Kids are kids, I get that.  Even adults act like brats from time to time.  But it never ceases to amaze me when I see  children who act like idiots without so much as a "look" from their parents.  They have no respect for their own parents, much less any other adult.  It doesn't matter where they are; they act as if they rule the world and the rest of us in it.  

I know kids get unruly, mine do, specially in a group of kids.  I'm talking about more than unruly. I'm talking disrespectful.  Ignoring adults trying to redirect their actions, or behaviors, and just doing whatever they want to do.  

The thing that bothers me most?  When the parent is either watching and does nothing or is told about it, and actually looks upset to hear their precious angel is anything but.  Do they really think their kids are perfect?  

I think most people who know me and know my kids know they can tell me when my precious angels misbehave and expect me to do something about it.  Most of the time that something involves an apology to that teacher, church volunteer, whoever they have disrespected with their behavior.  Am I too hard on my kids?  I don't think so.  I don't want them to grow up thinking they are entitled to act like brats any time they want.  I certainly don't like putting up with brats that belong to me, much less brats who belong to other people.

I'm not sure when parents stopped telling their kids how to behave.  Or why some parents think their kids are entitled to disrespect other people without so much as a "don't do that" look.  
Kids will act like kids but there are things (like raising your voice to an adult, or ignoring what they are telling you) that are big no-no in my book.  

So if you are ever around my kids and they act like fools, please tell me.  I promise I will address the issue and you will have my respect for bringing it to my attention.  If I tell you your kids have been disrespectful, I hope you extend me the same courtesy.  
 

Are you sure about this?

A few months ago, my husband and I made the decision to homeschool our kids. Yes, you read that right.  We are going to homeschool.

In typical ME fashion, I have worked myself (more than once) into a panic attack over this life changing decision.  It's not that I doubt I can teach my children what they need to know.  I know I can.  That's the easy part of this decision.  It's the venture into the unknown that keeps me awake at night.

I have spent countless hours reading about homeschooling.  I have researched it, asked question, researched it some more, and then some more after that.  I know it's the right thing for us.  I want our kids to have a LOVE for learning as I did when I was growing up.  I want them to be excited about history, and arts, and literature.  Yes, I want them to be "nerds" as I was.

I had the typical misconception about homeschooling than most people do.  I admit it.  I figured all those who choose it were "different" (as in weird), were radical in their beliefs, have 20+ kids, grown their own food, and live in a compound.  Mostly because I didn't really know any, other than the ones I saw on that TLC show.  I'm sure there are families out there that probably fit that description.  But I was pleasantly surprised to find there are many families that fit under the "normal" umbrella (whatever normal means).

How we arrived at this decision isn't as important as the fact we chose it for our family.  If you know us, you know we are anything but your typical family.  We like it that way, we thrive in being different, and guess what? Homeschooling fits right into our definition of normal.

I have to admit, it is overwhelming to realize you are in charge of your children's education.  I have no doubt we can teach them what they need to know.  But there will be no one to blame but us if they don't understand the Pythagorean Theorem, or Newton's Laws.  

At the same time, it is exciting.  It's an adventure.  One we have been on without even knowing.  Every trip to the zoo, or the aquarium, the museums, they were all learning opportunities.  Our trip to Panama, collecting seashells on the beach, all educational opportunities.  We have been teaching our kids outside a classroom all along.

I want my children to LOVE learning.  That's one gift I received as a kid.  My parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, they all homeschooled me without even knowing there was a name for such a thing.  They made me want to learn, from books, from people, newspapers, and magazines.  I was the nerdy kid who got excited about school because I just knew there was a new adventure waiting, a new discovery just around the corner.

Perhaps it was the fact the educational system is different in Panama.  Perhaps it was that I had amazing teachers who nurture my desire to learn.  Or the fact my parents encouraged me to learn outside of the school building.  I don't know, but my desire to learn new things has never diminished.  

I want that for my kids.  I want them to lay outside and look at the stars and find the constellations.  Or notice the different cloud formations on the sky.  To be excited about discovering new things every day.  

Yes I know.  My children are not me.  There are no guarantees they will love learning as much as I do.  But I can at least try, can't I?  

So soon we will be joining the ranks of homeschooling families.  Don't hold your breath waiting for the announcement we are increasing the number of kids in our family.  Or that I'll be moving into a compound, or wearing skirts down to my ankles.  Not going to happen.

Do expect to hear all about our adventure, including the exciting parts and the not-so-pleasant moments.  I'm excited.  I have a road map, with numerous detours, all pointing to the same exact destination:  Happy Kids who embrace Life as the learning adventure it is.  

I was in jail...

Some of you know a month ago I was in jail.  I spent 3 ½ days in jail.  It would probably shock some of you to learn I enjoyed every second I spent there; and I’m thankful God sent me there.

I was not alone, I was there as part of the Kairos MS team, with one big goal in mind, to bring God’s love into the lives of these women inside the prison.  That simple was our mission, to bring God’s love.

As anyone would guess, I had my own prejudices and fears before going in.  After all, these women are in there for committing a crime.  But as the time grew near, I found my fears and prejudices were changing.  I wasn’t afraid of getting hurt while in jail, I was afraid that I would get in the way, that I would allow my humanity to overshadow what God was trying to do thru me. 

I was blessed to go as part of an incredible group of volunteers who are passionate about this ministry and who were willing to share their experiences with me.  So I figured, if they continue to serve, it must be a pretty great experience, right?   

To say I was blown away by it would be an understatement.  There simply are no words that can express the experience.  I spent 3 ½ days inside a prison, laughing, crying, sharing with inmates and loved every second.   When the weekend came to an end, I was sad.  There were good byes and there were tears.

Since I left the prison, I have thought about my sisters in Christ that are inside CMCF.  I wonder how they are doing, what their life has been like since their Kairos weekend.  Some of their faces pop into my head more often than the others.  I figured God is telling me I need to pray for them individually.  So I usually stop and pray. 

I learned during my weekend in prison we are all just one bad decision away from being in jail.  Just one.  We have all made bad choices in the past.  Some could have landed us there, in jail, alongside these women.  We were blessed to have someone in our lives “who knew better”; who watched over us and directed us.  Some of these women didn’t.  But hopefully now they have Christ.  And with Him by their side, they can do anything.

Christ was there that weekend.  Only He could take my prejudices and turn them into love.  His love.  I hugged these women and felt His love pass from me to these women.  Going into this weekend, I didn’t know what crimes any of these women had committed.  I honestly didn’t care to know.  They have sinned and their sins are public, and out there for the world to know.  But we are all sinners, and all of our sins are the same in God’s eyes.  Christ died for their sins just as He did for mine.

Since I left the prison, I have found out what their offenses were.  And you know what?  It hasn’t changed my experience, or the way I feel about these women.  They are His daughters too.  He loves them as He loves me.  And they are worthy of my prayers too. Each has a place in my prayers and my heart.

I’m so thankful God called me to serve Him inside that prison, on that weekend, to those women.  So incredibly thankful for the opportunity and for the blessing.  I ask, next time you are praying, pray for the inmates inside CMCF, pray for the Kairos volunteers, and for all those who minister for those inside prison walls. 

Sorpresas te da la vida...

Life will surprise you.  Yes indeed!

Most of my adult life, I've heard women say "I've been dreaming of my wedding day since I was a little girl", or "when I was a kid, I knew what kind of wedding I wanted", etc, etc.  You get the idea.

I wasn't one of those girls.  I never dreamed of my wedding day.  NEVER.  Never wondered what it would be like to walk down the aisle, dressed in a white gown, with a veil on my head and with a handsome man waiting for me at the altar.  I didn't daydream of the day prince charming would come and sweep me off my feet, and we'd ride together into the sunset.  Not once.

Maybe you are wondering what kind of childhood I had. Was I a tomboy?  Am I missing the girl gene that makes the other girls dream of prince charming?  Maybe the answer is yes to both.  I never liked dolls, never in my almost 40 years owned a Barbie.  Never wanted one, not even as a kid.  One of my earliest memories is asking my mom for a Tonka Truck for Christmas.  Yes, you read that right, a Tonka truck.  It may seem odd, specially when I grew up surrounded by four sisters.  I still remember how happy I was to find a green Tonka jeep under the tree that year. 

Don't get me wrong, I liked boys growing up.  I had crushes and swooned if one of them looked my way.  But from there to dreaming they would one day be my chosen beloved, that was a leap I never made.  That stayed with me until college.  My friends, those who knew me when my last time was still Gutierrez, will probably tell you I was very adamant about one thing :  No marriage, and No kids.

Of course, I never took into account that a handsome man would sweep me off my feet, and that I would find myself married at the young age of 26.  Or that I would find myself the mother of three kids.

I'm glad life surprised me, and brought my way the 4 people who share my house.  They are pretty awesome folks, and definitely love me enough to put up with me all the time.  I have my best friend under the same roof, and three amazing little beings who remind me every day I have a purpose in life. I would not trade them for the world.

The other day I read a statement from a mom who said she missed being pregnant and missed breastfeeding.  It made me wonder if I'm really missing that gene I mentioned earlier.  I don't miss my pregnancies.  I love my children, and I'm glad I was able to give them life but I did not enjoy any part of the pregnancy.  I didn't like having to carry 30+ extra pounds, not to mention the extra fat I accumulated eating for 2, and 3 people at once.  I do not miss having to sleep on my side, or my back, when my favorite position is sleeping on my belly.  I do not miss having to lay in bed for weeks to give the boys more incubation time.  I don't miss the extra swelling of hands, feet, and face, sleepless nights, not to mention the heartburn.  I simply don't. 

I wonder if those women had the perfect pregnancies, and that's why they miss it.  If they did, good for them.  I'm glad all that is over and done. 

I'm a huge advocate for breastfeeding.  I am lucky enough to be part of a culture where breastfeeding is not only encouraged, but expected.  I don't miss breastfeeding though.  Even though I tried it with both pregnancies, it was difficult for me.  Not to go into details, but it made me feel inadequate as a woman and a mother.  Thank God for the lactation consultant who told me I could bond with my twins as I bottlefed them, just as I did when I breastfed them.  I know many women out there successfully do it, I wasn't one of them.  My experience wasn't what I anticipated, so I don't miss it.

When my firstborn was on her way, I wondered if I was made to be mom.  I didn't fit the typical idea of what a mom should be.  I had a career and all intention to keep it after she was born.  What if I didn't have any maternal instinct? What if I didn't love this new person instantly?

I have learned in the last ten years that being a mom is about building a relationship with this new person.  Candace and I had to get to know each other, and become the mother and daughter we are today.  Yes, I loved her from day one and would have died for her (and still would!) but I am reminded often she is her own person.  Not an extension of me.  Not an accessory.  She is her own being, and she deserves to be respected as such.  The same is true of my boys. 


I am not the perfect mother.  There are many times, after they are in bed, and I climbed (exhausted!) into mine, when I wonder if I am doing a good job. Am I raising human beings who will go out into the world and make a difference in some way?  There are many times when I feel as a bad mom.

I look at these kids, at the amazing people they are, how kind, loving, and caring they are; and I think maybe I don't have to do anything other than provide an environment where they can thrive.  They were made to be amazing, loving creatures; that's not my creation.  Maybe all I have to do is love them, guide them, and watch them grow.

La vida esta llena de sorpresas...

Are you kidding me?

You know, I like my job.  I enjoy what I do, and most days I actually like the people I work with.  But every now and then I'm left wondering what the f*** is wrong with people these days.  Why can't people simply do their job?

I work in state government, and yes I have heard every comment imaginable about how lazy state employees are, how "easy" we have it, etc.  The majority of the people in this agency don't fit in the stereotype that's out there, most of us (yes, I'm including myself here) are willing to go above and beyond to do what we were hired to do.  Perhaps it has to do with the fact the majority of the people here are scientists and engineers.  I honestly do not know.

Most of the time, I haven't cared if the person in the office next door was snoring while I was buried under a pile of reports, they simply weren't my problem.  Their job performance didn't affect mine, so I could not care less if they didn't do anything.  Did it aggravate me? It most certainly did, just not enough to leave me reaching  for the antiacids.

Well, now I'm responsible for other people's job performance.  Don't get me wrong, I like telling people what to do.  My siblings probably would tell you I was born to boss people around.
I don't mind telling people something needs to get done.  But I dislike having to tell someone to do something over, and over, and over, and over, and over...  I repeat myself plenty at home, I don't want to go to work and have to do the same thing I do with my kids.

Why is it so difficult to simply do what's expected?  I don't understand.  Is it lack of work ethic?  Do they know no better, or do they simply don't give a rat's behind?

I've had to spend some time asking myself if I'm expecting too much from people.  Am I asking they do things the way I would do them, or just asking that they do them?
Maybe it's a little of both.

I expect that when I, the supervisor, ask you, the employee to do something, that you'll at least look me in the eyes as I explain it to you and give me the respect I deserve. Not because I'm the boss, but because I'm a person and not a piece of furniture.


I'm not perfect.  I am loud and speak my mind more often than I should.  I'm sure my former (and probably current) supervisor would say I can be opinionated and stubborn.  I'm also sure none of them would say I've ever done "just enough" to get by at any job I've had.

It was 4th grade...

We have survived the first week of school at our house.  The boys are now in kindergarten and for the first time, they are apart most of the day.  The decision to ask for separate classrooms for them wasn't easy. Then again, most parenting decisions are seldom easy.  Unless you are telling your child he has no use for an iPod at age 5.  Now that one is quite easy.

Candace is starting fourth grade, and happy-go- lucky as usual.   She has her best friends in class with her, the teacher she wanted, and life is as good as it can be, through the eyes of a nine year old.  

Every year, I pray they get good teachers.  Teachers who will not only teach them everything they need to know, but who will also make learning an exciting adventure.  I want them to have teachers like the ones I had,  teachers who will inspire them to never stop learning, who will make school a fascinating place and every school year an exciting one.

Most of my teachers were like that, with the exception of my 4th grade teacher.   She made quite an impression on me and for all the wrong reasons. 

By the time I made it to 4th grade,  I had good study habits and just LOVED school.  If they had told me I had to attend year round, I would have been the happiest kid on earth.  Learning and studying came easy for me because I had had such great teachers until then.

Fourth grade started like any other normal year for me until my teacher and I had our first "incident".  I still remember how the classroom looked, where I was sitting on that particular day, how much light was coming through the windows and the beautiful trees I could see on the other side of them. 

The teacher asked the class a question, and no one besides me raised their hand.  But she didn't call on me.  She simply ignored me and kept on with the lesson.  She asked a few more questions, and again, no one but me raised their hand.  She scowled and called on me.  I gave her the answer, and it so happened I was right.  

It was time for recess and as I was walking out of the classroom passed her, she pulled me back by my ponytail. 

She was a tall, hefty woman, and I was a tiny 9 year old, much smaller than Candace is.  Imagine for a second this woman, pulling on my ponytail, and holding my head back so she could look me in the eyes and say "You think you are very smart, don't you?".  

I vividly remember looking straight into her eyes, and replying "Yes, I AM smart", and the look of disgust in her face when she realized she had not intimidated me.

I went home and told my parents, and my dad went to school the next day to speak to her.  I'm not sure what all he said, but she never spoke to me that way again or put a hand on me.  She barely made eye contact the rest of the school year.  I still made As and was at the top of my class but the impression this woman made on me has remained even 28 years later.

Without knowing, she taught me a valuable lesson, how to stand up for myself, regardless of how formidable my opponent may be.  She didn't ruin my love for school, she didn't make me self conscious about my ability to learn and do well.  I wonder now if I did so well to prove to her I was smart and not afraid to show it.

I'm not sure what became of her, or if she ever treated another child the same way she treated me.  I surely hope not.  I pray no one ever does that to any of my kids either, or any child for that matter.

On Life and other things

It has been a while since I blogged.  Blame it on life, I simply got busy, then started thinking I really have nothing to say.  You can figure out the rest.

I still may not have anything to say but blogging is quite therapeutic for me, and lord knows, I'm in need of therapy these days.  So here it goes.

Summer is here, and with it, the most torturous time in a woman's life: Bathing Suit Season.  Life was so much easier 10 years ago, when I was fit and in great shape, and stupid enough to pass on the opportunity to wear a two piece.

Here I am now, older, wiser (ha!), and with three kids who love everything water.  Of course, I no longer have that body, but now I'm forced to either go to the pool in a t-shirt and shorts, or find a bathing suit that "flatters" my new figure.

The first thing people tell me when I say I'm on a diet is "why, you don't need to lose weight".  Well, looks can be (and are in my case) deceiving.  I can afford to lose 15 pounds and still be within the recommended weight range for my height.  But that's easier said than done.  The older I've gotten, the harder it is to get rid of the weight.  So I'm embarking (again!) on that journey.  Wish me luck.  I love food.

As if trying to lose weight was not enough, I've also been dealing with the "blues" lately.  And I don't mean the BB King, Breeze Kings type. 

Call it the blues, depression, under the weather, it really boils down to one thing, you just feel blah, without energy or desire to do anything, not even those things you enjoy the most.

I have found most people have a misguided idea that one has to have a reason to be depressed in order to suffer from depression.  If I had a $1 for every time I've been asked "why are you depressed, you have a great _______", I'd have enough money to take a European vacation.

I'm no expert when it comes to mental illness, but I do know, in my case at least, I don't need a reason.  It just happens.  I've been told by those who know more about depression than I, that it can be caused by stress.  well, hello!  Working mother of 3 on aisle one!  

Other people have pointed out I must not be a good Christian, otherwise I would not be affected by depression.  Their logic is, if you trust in the Lord, then you don't have anything to be worried/stressed about.  Sounds simple, right?  In my opinion, if they were better Christians, they would be trying to HELP, not JUDGE.  But I digress.

Different people get affected differently, and for me stress is a trigger.  Most of the time I can "see" it coming, I can notice when doing normal things becomes harder and when the things I enjoy fall by the wayside.  I missed all the signs this last time, and didn't realize what was happening until it had already happened.  It took having an anxiety attack (another one of those fun side effects) to realize something was off.

Thing is, most people don't have a clue I've been dealing with this.  I still get out of bed every day, go to work every day, take care of the house/kids/chores/husband (not in that order), and do the things that need to get done in order to keep our life in order.  

Some people think depressed people are in a dark room, sleep all the time, never seeing anyone.  I guess there are some of those people out there, but I'm not one of them.  Unless you knew me well, you probably wouldn't see a difference in me.

Aside from the "blah" feeling, my body sends me signals too.  I get the aches and pains that make me wonder if my parents got my birthday wrong in the birth certificate.  All of those are a sign that something is off.

I'm on the other side of the D valley now.  One step at a time, climbing back out of the pit.  Good days and bad days.  Granted, anyone who reads this will know, but those who don't, will probably not notice a difference at all.  

And that's my point for this rambling. (I do have a point!).  Never judge a book by its cover.  Someone may be dealing with something big and show no signs whatsoever.  Be kind to everyone and treat people as you would like to be treated; because you never know what they are dealing with.

One last word of advice, if someone tells you they are dealing with weight issues, or depression; be supportive.  Life is a challenge without having to answer 20 questions every time you share a bit about yourself with others.

Book Review: Love Walked In and Belong to me- Marisa de los Santos

There are books you read simply because you love books. You flip through the pages, discovering the characters, and taking a look into their lives.

Then there are books that touch something inside your heart. The characters are more than just people on paper, they become a part of your life, their lives intertwine with yours. You can feel what they feel, their happiness, their fears, their apprehensions.

Love Walked in, and Belong to me belong in latter category. At least for me.

I read Love Walked In first. I had come across it while looking for books in Paperback Swap several months ago. In all honesty, it was the author's name that first incited my curiosity. I love reading Spanish/Latin authors, and her name made me wonder about her heritage. Still that wasn't enough for me to request the book. Months passed before I stumbled upon it again and this time I decided to give it a shot and see what it is about. I'm glad I did.

The main characters in this novel are Cornelia and Clare. Cornelia is a coffee shop manager in Philadelphia, and Clare is an 11 year old girl. In the first chapters in the book, we meet them and find out that Cornelia is still trying to figure out the rest of her life, loves her family even if they can drive her crazy at times (isn't that true of all families?). Clare is an only child who has never met her father. She has an eccentric mother and has begun to worry that her mom is off because of her erratic behavior.

I have to admit, the first few chapters I simply didn't understand how these two characters would find their way to each other. And that was the reason I kept on reading the book. I was hooked then.

A handsome man walks in the coffee shop one day and Cornelia, who is a fan of old Hollywood movies, believes this is the man of her dreams. We see how their relationship develops and how Cornelia begins to suspect that, perhaps, she was too quick on her assessment of him being the perfect guy.

So where is the love that walked in, as the title suggests? It isn't a romantic love. Clare turns out to be the daughter of Cornelia's boyfriend, the one he never mentioned until Clare showed at his doorsteps, having been abandoned by her bipolar mother.

It is the love between Clare and Cornelia that touched my heart, the love that walked in. Once she gets over the initial shock, Cornelia realizes that Clare has no one and needs her. And she begins to realize how much she needs Clare too.

Through the book, we see the bond between Cornelia and Clare grow stronger, until they become family. Don't we all have those people in our life, who weren't born into our blood family but are family nonetheless? I know I do.

Cornelia finds real love, Clare finds her mother again, and the book ends with Cornelia making the difficult decision to put some distance between her and Clare to allow Clare and her mom to bond once again. It was the love between these two strangers that touched my heart and made me realize that this same type love is still alive in this world.

Belong to me is not a sequel to Love Walked in. But Cornelia, her now husband Teo, and Clare are in this book also. I read the book because I could not wait to see what had happened to Cornelia and Clare.

Cornelia chooses to move out of the city into suburbia. Clare is living with her mom, being a typical teenager. Cornelia struggles making new friends in a place where people worry so much about appearances, about their kids attending the right school, having a manicured lawn, etc.

We meet Dev who is an incredibly intelligent teenager trying to fit in. His mother moves him across the country and they settle in the same neighborhood as Cornelia and Teo. Dev has never met his father. Cornelia becomes friends with Dev's mother Lake.

There is also Piper who is a model suburbia mother, trying to keep all things in order while trying to be there for her best friend Elizabeth who is dying of cancer. Piper is not an easy character to like. But through the illness and death of Elizabeth we begin to see her human side. She and Cornelia eventually become friends.

I guess this book is more about secrets, about pretending to be something you are not, and about letting people into your life.
We all have secrets, some darker than others. In this book, we see those secrets come to the surface. Piper has secrets and begins to realize she has not allowed herself to live her life because she has been too worried about what people would think of her. Lake has a secret that has dictated her cross country move and that shakes her relationship with her son Dev after it is revealed.

We see Cornelia and Clare still close, still family. And when everyone's secrets finally come out, it is that closeness, that sense of family that allows Cornelia to get passed the hurt, the shock, and embrace this new family that has opened up.

I loved every character in these two books. I loved their humanity. I'm sure everyone knows at least one person who resembles one of the characters. They are real, they have emotions, secrets, and aspirations as the rest of us. And their lives may resemble our own. They are human to me, and they reminded me of the good still left in this world.

Book Review: Can you keep a secret? by Sophia Kinsella

I'm participating in a reading challenge this year. The fact is I love books but needed a way to "spice up" what I read. Hence my decision to do this book challenge. It has proven to be a good decision!

How did I come about this book? I guess I should start by saying this is not the type of book I normally would pick up at the library. In a normal day, I would have passed right by it without a second glance. But one of the categories for this challenge is a Random book. One you just stumble upon at random, without thinking.

I marched into the local library with the idea the chosen book would find its way into my hands. Isn't that how random works? I tried to recall all the theories about randomness I heard while in school. Alas, none came to me. Still I just knew the book would find its way into my hands.

And it did. As I was walking down the aisle, waiting for the book to say "pick me, pick me", this book with pink cover stood out. I had to pick it up. For starters, why a pink cover? I'm not a fan of pink, so that was clue #1 this book may be a contender. Under normal circumstances, the color of the cover alone would have made me pass right by it without a second glance. I read the title and I knew I had to read it. I had to find out what this secret was about.

The book I read is "Can you keep a secret" by Sophia Kinsella. I'll be honest, I had only heard of her at passing. I found out later she has a trilogy of Shopaholic books. I'm not a big shopper, so never had any desire of reading these books.

I read the book in 2 days, I simply could not put it down. It was the perfect book for the kind of week I was having. I had a house full of sick children and one adult, and needed something to help me unwind at the end of the day.
Call it chick lit, or whatever you want. The fact is the minute I met Emma Corrigan, I liked her. She reminded me of most every one of my friends, wrapped up in one. She is trying to get ahead in the corporate world, while trying to figure out what exactly she wants out of life. Haven't we all experienced that at some point in our lives? I know I have.

Emma happens to hate flying, not something I share with her, as I wish I could fly to work every single day. She is flying back home after disastrous work meeting and ends up telling all her secrets to a complete stranger on the plane. She thought she was going to die and felt the need to tell someone all those things. The plane had hit turbulence and she was absolutely certain this was it. So she spilled the beans, from how she is killing a coworker's plant by feeding orange juice to what type of underwear she despises, and everything in between.

To say I like Emma is an understatement. I liked her immediately, mostly because I cannot imagine ever sharing my secrets with a strange man on an airplane.

Turns out the stranger is the CEO of the company she works for. Of course, she has no idea who he is until he shows up at work the next day and she realizes that's the man from the plane.

Their story takes a lot of delicious twists and turns that could never be captured accurately in film. The type of stuff that makes you stay awake passed your bedtime (even though you have to be up before the crack of dawn) just because you have to know what's going to happen to Emma next.

I devoured this book as easily as I devour a Ghiardelli chocolate bar. Guilty pleasure. I enjoyed meeting Emma, rejoiced with her when she found love, and felt her pain when she had her heart broken on national tv.

As I said before, I love books. Some are easier to read than others, some have a complex plot line that requires you to pay attention so you don't miss a thing. If you are looking for a delightful story that will make you laugh out loud, and cheer for a unlikely heroine, this book is for you. If you want a break from big complex fiction plots and just want to read something lighthearted, this book is for you.

Reading Challenge

I love to read, and love books (as the collection of them all over my house will attest). So I've decided to participate in a reading challenge this year.

I found out about this challenge from a member of Paperback Swap (long story!) but I'm glad I did because I love challenges and this one should be fun. Wanna know more about the challenge? You can go to her page where it is all explained.

Every book I read I will review on this blog too. Maybe someone will want to pick one of these books, plus it will help keep track of all I've read so far.

Happy Reading!

Another year

So yesterday I added yet another year to my birthday number. I like birthdays. I know some people don't like to think about them because that means they are getting older.

But I like birthdays. As a kid, birthdays were a big celebration. Big party, entire neighborhood invited, grown up and kids celebrating together. Everyone happy to celebrate the birth of that particular person. We wore new outfits for the occasion and got showered with attention and love from everyone.

Even though I'm older, I still get excited about birthdays. Not because of the party or the presents, although those are nice too, but because they mean I made it through another year. I love the fact my birthday follows so closely to the new year. I don't have to wait months and months to start living another 'yearly adventure'.

Last year was a year of self discovery for me. You'd think at 37 I would know all there is to know about myself. I don't, and I hope I never do. The fact I'm still growing as a person and learning about myself means I'm still capable of dreaming. At least that's what it means to me.

Self discovery is not easy and it isn't always pleasant. This past year wasn't exactly a walk in the park. I stood in front of an imaginary mirror and took a hard look at the person I am. While looking, I found things I never noticed were there. Or may I did know, and simply hadn't paid much attention to it.

Regardless, the journey was difficult. I had to learn to accept the flaws that mirror showed me, the rough edges that are going to need some attention in the near future. But that journey, as difficult as it may have been, brought me to this point.

I am very comfortable with myself now. Make no mistake, I was comfortable with me when last year's birthday came. But I had no idea what the year would be like. I had no clue about the disappointments that loomed at a distance. I had no clue that my integrity and my character would be challenged. The person who emerged from this self discovery journey is stronger, and happier than the one who started the journey.

So here I stand, on day one of the next year of my life. I'm ready for whatever challenges will come my way this year. I am happier, and much more comfortable in my own skin. You know how people sometimes say "Oh, how I wish I could back to when I was X years old". I never have. Every year has been special and has left wonderful memories. But I wouldn't want to go back.

Sometimes I see the person I was at 23, and realize how little I knew then. The years that have passed since then have made me a stronger, more secure person. If I could give her advice, I would tell her nothing. She has to experience life for herself so she can reach this point in her life.

So I raise my glass and toast my last 37 years of life, and look forward to the next 37. May they all be full of adventures. Salud!!!

Illegal Immigrant Bill- MS Legislature

I'm pretty certain many of my friends are going to disagree with me on this post. I respect their opinion and I hope they grant me the same respect on mine.

I happened to notice this article today. Normally, I don't discuss my opinions on bills passed in the legislature with anyone beside my closest friends and family. If there is something I have learned through the years, you don't discuss religion or politics with people you aren't sure will be able to "agree to disagree" with you.

But this particular bill hits home for me because I am an IMMIGRANT. Note I capitalize that because there is a difference among immigrants. Some of us are here legally, others are not. This post isn't about illegal immigration per se.

What it is about is how I don't think this bill would help defray illegal immigrants from coming to the state looking for work. All this bill will do is nurture the fear and prejudice of people, who think all who are different from them represent a threat to their way of life.

I happen to be one of those people who is different. I am an immigrant, I speak another language beside English. And yes, people have said to my face I am a threat to them, that I am taking jobs from their family. I had to laugh, I hate to admit it. I laughed. I am a professional engineer with 2 degrees in Engineering but I was taking a job away from a high school dropout. Yet there are more people like this person out there.

I am a US citizen, have been a citizen for many years. Even before I became a citizen, I paid taxes like the rest of the people in this state. I'm also fortunate enough to serve the taxpayers of this state by the work I do for a state agency. As you see, I don't feel I'm a threat to anyone. I am a registered voter, I am involved in my community, I attend church regularly, I follow the letter of the law.

Yet if this bill becomes law, I will become a threat only because of the way I look. That law would give a police officer the right to stop me just because he has probable cause to think I may be an illegal immigrant. And that probable cause would be the way I look.

I know what you are thinking. Why are you worried if you are a US citizen? You have nothing to worry about. Not exactly. You see, none of you (black or white) walks around with a copy of your birth certificate in your pocket or purse. You don't have to. I have no proof of my citizenship in my purse either. I wasn't given a handy card I could carry in my pocket to prove to anyone I am a citizen of this country. I was given a 8" by 11" document that specifically says it is NOT to be copied for any purpose.

I have a driver license, but a driver license does not prove citizenship. I wonder how many people know that. So even though I have a driver license issued by this state, I could still be detained because it does not prove I am here legally or that I am a citizen.

I think the times and efforts of the MS Legislature would be better spent coming up with a bill that levies heavier penalties on companies who hired illegal workers. Companies are getting away with a slap on the wrist and little else.

Let's face it, people come here in search of the American dream. If they can't find it here because they are not finding jobs, they will leave. No one wants to live on the streets, folks, I can attest to it.

In my opinion, this bill will do nothing more than to nurture the prejudice and racism of some who think anyone who looks different than them is unworthy of living in civilized society.

Let's find a solution to the problem without alienating people, without making those of us lucky enough to stand out in a crowd feel like criminals, even when we are not.

And if it becomes law, look for me in the 10 o'clock news. I'll be the one screaming while getting arrested for not having proof of citizenship with me.

Working mother???

From time to time, the whole "working mother" dilemma raises up its ugly head and gets me all worked up.

You see, all mothers are working mothers. I have yet to meet one that didn't work. Being a working mom is part of the deal. It starts with feeding that tiny baby and it gets more demanding as the kids get older.
There are no sick days, no holidays, no vacation days. When you are sick, your "job" is still there, and boy, they expect you to take care of them just as if nothing was happening. Holidays? I'm willing to bet we work overtime without any extra pay. As for vacations, who else takes work with them on vacation?. Enough said.

You see, aside from being a mother, I am also an environmental engineer. I love what I do, I have the privilege of taking care of this beautiful earth God has entrusted us, and get paid for it. It is not easy to juggle a home with a job outside the house, but I feel my kids are well adjusted and know just how much I love them.

The part that aggravates me and gets me all riled up is when people assume that mothers who have a paid job outside their homes care less about their kids than those who can stay home with them. Let's get real. In today's world, it is very common for both parents to work in order to provide for their kids a good education, a comfortable home, and put food on the table. We are no exception to that.

We don't own fancy cars, we don't dress in expensive clothes, or take lavish vacations. We live within our means, and share our blessings with those less fortunate whenever we have a chance. The fact still remains I have to work. I just happen to be lucky enough to LOVE my job too.

That doesn't mean I don't love my kids. There is nothing I would not do for them. Except allowing them to go without food, or get less than an exceptional education. That I will not allow, specially when I am capable and willing to work to provide for them.

So yeah, I get insulted when people assume I work because I don't like being home with the kids. Or because my career is more important to me than the kids are. But the insult is even worse when it comes from another mother, one who is fortunate enough to be able to stay home with her kids.

Why must mothers put other mothers down? We are all in this together. I have good friends who work outside the home just like I do, and good friends who stay home with the kids. We are all on the same boat, trying to do what is best for our kids.

I know, we all tell ourselves our choices are the best choices. Some of us think our choice to work and provide a little extra for our kids is best; while others think staying home with them is the best decision. Whatever works for you and your family is the best decision, there is no "one choice fits all" in this situation.

So if you are a mom, regardless of whether you get a paycheck at your job, or your paycheck comes in hugs and kisses, please remember: We are all mothers, we all love our kids, and we are all in this together.

Our brain is doing what?

Santa delivered a Wii at our house this year. It's red and pretty and it can keep us occupied for hours. We can play tennis, baseball, golf, boxing, even go bowling without leaving our living room. Not to mention we can now watch movies through the internet. What can I say? It's one handy piece of technology.

My daughter also received (as a gift from my sister and her husband) a Rubix Cube . Remember those? In all honesty, I didn't even know they still made those. I was probably my daughter's age (9) when my sister got one. She was a teenager then and the Cube was all the rage. If you could solve it, you were a genius!

So Candace asked me what she was suppose to do with it. I explained to her what the objective of this game was, and that, while she tried to solve the cube, her brain would be making new connections, neurons would interact with one another, the whole brain synopsis would be happening, I was just explaining brain science to her, when she looked at it, and decided "it is too hard".

I was doing the dishes ( I do my best thinking when I do dishes) and realized this generation, my kids' generation, is growing up in world where movies no longer come in VHS or even DVDs; where they don't have to leave the comfort of their home in order to play golf, and where life can happen in a virtual world. Then I wonder, is that good for them, for their brains?

When I was a kid, we imagined everything. Leaves were actually paper money, and we used sticks, empty jars and cans and anything else we could find to play. We didn't own a Nintendo, or had electronic games. iPods? Ha! That was something out of the Jetsons.

Then I came across an article on NPR news. Scientists have determined our brains are shrinking. Yep, shrinking. Of course, as all scientific discoveries, one group of scientists thinks it is a good thing. It means we are getting less aggressive, etc. (you can read the whole article by clicking on the link above). Another group of scientists thinks it's a sign we, humans, are getting dumber. Our world is so technologically advanced we don't need to use our brains as much.

It's hard to say which camp is correct. You can decide for yourself. In the meantime, I will make sure my kids make it to the real bowling alley, tennis court, and tackle that rubik cube until they figure it out. Just doing my part to make sure humanity remains smart.

It's a new year!

" We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is called New Year's Day" ~ Edith Lovejoy Pierce

Happy New Year, everyone!

I am determined to write at least once a day on this blog. I often allow life to get in the way, then months pass by before I update it.

Writing is therapeutic for me, and God knows I need all the free therapy I can get!!! Between work, kids, and everything else; I often wonder how mothers don't go crazy before their children grow up.

2011 is full of promise, isn't it? Brand new, we have no idea what's in store for us. All we know is we get a chance to start over, to come up with a list of things we want to accomplish in this new year. We all have the New Year resolutions in our mind and we are certain this time we will get them all done!

I decided to come up with a simple list this year, mostly because the longer the list, the least likely I'll complete it.
My first one is to be more adventurous. Those who know me know I plan mostly everything. I'll think about it for weeks before I venture into something new. This year, I've decided I will try to be more spontaneous, which in my world means adventure. Plus I want to try a few things I haven't before like skydiving.

Number 2 on this list. Finish my novel. I started writing it but didn't finish. Who knew I had so much to say that a month would not be enough to finish saying it?

and last but not least, start running again. A few years back I trained for the Chicago Marathon. Yes, it was a whole lot of running. I know most people thought it was crazy. Truth be told, I miss those runs. Running is something you do alone, even if you have a running partner. It's you and the road. No one can run the distance for you, no one can pound the pavement for you. I specially liked the alone time that running afforded me. Alone time when you are a mother of 3 is a rare luxury.

So here is to 2011! May we all keep our resolutions!

If I had 15 minutes...

So, one of those random idea generators suggested I write on this topic.

If I had 15 minutes to evacuate my home before it was to be destroyed by a hurricane, what 10 things would I grab (not including people or pets)

Umm, cannot grab people (most important to me). So there goes #1-4.

1) Cell Phone so I could communicate with the rest of the family
2) Glasses/Contacts because I am blind without them.
3) Pictures- As many of those as possible, I would probably have each family member carry an arm load of them.
4) Full Water bottles
5) Undergarments for the whole family and as many items of clothing as possible.
6) External hard drive and the computer tower, because that's where most of our pictures are stored.
7) Passports
8) Wedding ring
9)Purse
10)Snacks.

I'm not sure 15 minute would be enough time in a hurricane situation. I'd be looking for a safe place to ride out the storm. By the time I got done gathering all these items, the storm would be at my house and I would not make it out. So scratch that. I'd be running out the door as fast as I could, and leaving everything but my family behind.

Pet Peeve- Christmas Cards

In the recent weeks, I have gotten 3 different sets of Christmas cards from three different charities who want me to give them money. I have never donated to their causes, I'm assuming they got my name from someone I have donated to. I don't know.
Each set had at least 5 nice cards, the envelopes, and one set even came with its matching labels.

Thing is, I have no intention of giving them any money. Or should I? These are nice cards and I could use them this upcoming Christmas. So does using them obligate me to donate? Should I feel guilty about sending them out when I know I didn't give them any money?

My pet peeve is they are wasting money printing cards and mailing them to folks like me, who probably will use them and don't give them a dime. How many of these have they sent? I wonder how much money this charity spends sending unwanted gifts to people in an effort to raise money.

Maybe they should use the money in their charity, rather than wasting it on me. The simple fact they are wasting the money on cards gives me the idea their overhead is too high and I probably don't want to give them money to waste on stuff like this.

So do I use the cards? Do I put them in the garbage? What is the appropriate etiquette?