Wednesday, 22 December 2010

birthday party

So last week, I had a birthday party for Sebastian and we invited 4 of his friends from "school": Greta, Christian, Davide, Diego. I was so happy that he actually had names of kids he wanted to invite. Only Greta and Christian came, but it was so wonderful! They were both such sweet little children, and I could tell that he made friends with the shyest kids in school. Sebastian is veritably enamoured of Greta. As he should be! She follows him everywhere! Everywhere he walks, she's right behind him walking in his steps. Craziness! I've never seen anything like it. Of course, I don't want to sexualize little kids, but I can't help but wonder what attracts kids to each other. In Buddhism, you are attracted to yourself. Your environment is a reflection of yourself. Plus you add karma, and interconnected dynamics, and it becomes quite obvious the kind of people and relationships one has. Or rather, the relationships are like a mirror of the person at any given moment.

I am very proud of the fact that Sebastian is "attracted" and "attracts" such a sweet, gentle little girl. And the little boys were shy, but normal and fun-looking.

Diego even gave us a gift even though they couldn't make it! I can't wait to see more of them!

missed concert

I missed my dear Sebastian's first Christmas party at school.

Yes, I am terrible. I feel terrible. I want sooooo much to see him sing with his classmates. I ache at the thought of him up there on stage, singing with pride.

And I missed it because I was napping with Lucas.

I can only reassure myself with the fact that he was oblivious to my absence. He didn't ask me why I didn't go. He seemed not even to care. It's as if he is aware how unimportant his school is, how illusory everything is. How fake it kind of is. It's as if he is an observant in the whole process. Like I am too I guess.

But still, it would have been so delicious to see him perform!

Next year, I will be able to see them both! Yeah!

two kids!

You look great for having had two kids!!! People say, thinking I will be flattered. But it's bullshit. There's no excuse. I lost all my babyweight right after Lucas. And lots of it came back. And it came back because of chocolate, and wine, and pasta, and cookies, and sedentarianism. Not from the babies. My hips are wider, yes, but the bobbles are from the cheese. My boobs have changed shape, but the arm butter is from the cake.

So now I am going out dancing for the first time in years, and I feel like shit. I am going with a friend who also had a kid, and whose body has not changed one bit from before. I hate Italian women.


I have come to a new conclusion - staying at home with the kids renders one grumpy, controlling, impatient, negative, annoying, along with a few other unflattering traits.

And how did I come to that conclusion, you ask? Lo and behold, after 4 days straight at home, that is exactly what I've become. For the past few days, I've blamed my grumpiness on pms, on being sick, on being tired. Today is day 2 of my period, I got lots of sleep, and after today's nap, I am almost free of my head cold. Yet tonight, I was Miss Grumpy and Miss Yeller.

I completely lost it with both of them tonight during bathtime. I got a call from a long-lost friend just as I put Lucas in the bath with oatmeal for his eczema. When finally Seb finishes his tv program and lounges his way over, I put him too in the now brown bathwater. He starts freaking out that there was caca, which I doubted. After checking with Lucas, of course, he concurred, and acknowledged that yes, he DID do caca in the bath.


So I get off the phone with long-lost friend, take them both out and my anger starts to escalate. WTF!?!?!? Lucas is nearly 2 1/2. He knows full well he's not supposed to poop in the bath. He knows how to say when he needs to go. So of all places!!! Then, when they are both out, and I am trying to drain and scrub the tub, Seb the princess starts to gag and cry, from the supposed smell (btw, there was no smell). He then proceeds to throw up, twice. In between throw-ups, he's yelling at Lucas to stay away, blablabla. I lose it on both of them. I am swearing and raging, and throwing things.

And this was the second time today I lost it that bad.

And then there are all the little scoldings, voice-raising, impatience, annoyances. Even with the simplest of actions, I get almost instantly frustrated if things don't go exactly my way. When something drops, when I make a mistake, when I have to go out of my way to change a plug, when things spill, I am a timebomb. With grumpiness and rage on the verge of spilling at the slightest provocation. And now I have eczema starting again.

I think I should not have a 3rd kid.

Sunday, 19 December 2010

patient mother

A saint even, is what my aunt and uncle from Peru call me. I am loving it and soaking it all in.

It's all relative, of course. This is my mother's family talking, the family of sharp-tongued, entitled, beautiful people who have little tolerance for anything or anyone who is less than perfect in every way. I was raised by one, duly traumatized by it, and I have chosen to fight my unforgiving instincts and be a loving, patient, fair, kind and affectionate mother. To make my children my priority, without being my obsession. So of course, when they are having temper tantrums, and whining, and demanding, and selfish (as 4-yr-olds and 2-yr-olds are wont to do), I try to be compassionate and respond in patience, fairness, kindness and love. I mostly don't succeed at it all, but I try my fiercest. So of course they say this when every example of motherhood my aunt and uncle have seen, most recently in their daughter with her 5-yr-old, falls into the more tyrannical category. They are amazed at my patience.

I on the other hand know what goes thru my head, and mostly I am at tipping point. I want to just yell at the kids "Shut the f**k up already!" or, "Fine, don't eat at all! Go outside naked! I couldn't give a s**t anymore!"

But I don't.

I am breaking the cycle, one day at a time.

Actually ... you know... they might be right... Maybe I AM a saint!

Wednesday, 8 December 2010

local school or workplace?

I work at a school. Today I went to a Christmas concert where all the elementary school kids were on stage. The pre-school kids were Sebastian's age and they were A*D*O*R*A*B*L*E. I even reconsidered sending Sebastian to the school...

Then by the end of the concert, where I had spent most of it watching my colleague's children, I again was happy that my kids will NOT go to the school I work at. First of all, I would always want to see them and be with them. I would micro-manage their teachers. I would analyze every single aspect of their education and question the people I entrust them with for results, practices, techniques, pedagogy, qualifications, etc.

But, most terrifyingly, I would hate the gaze of my colleagues as they observe, judge, analyze my kids and see reflections of me.

It is really better for them and for me that I work far away from the world where they will grow and become themselves.


So I got home from work, and found out from my mom that hubby came out completely shit-faced today. I have never in my entire life seen hubby drunk. Tipsy, MAAAAYBE, but not even sure about that. The crazy thing is that hubby has an unnatural aversion to any kind of substance abuse, even in it most functional, inoffensive forms. He HATES people who drink too much. In fact, we had to get rid of nanny because he thought she liked the bottle too much (whether she did or not is still arguable).

Moreover, today is my mom's last day with us. She had both kids (instead of the usual one), and tomorrow she spends the day travelling. Tonight I am supposed to take her out for dinner. And he showed up back home at nearly 6pm, and is now passed out in the bedroom.

Of all days... Life never stops getting interesting does it?

Monday, 6 December 2010


Yup. It's back. The lurking pest. The hidden beast. The incessant reminder that I am not in balance, in harmony, that something's not right.


the rules of war

Listened to a podcast today: "The Rules of War," by Stuff You Should Know.

Why can't war itself be against the rules?

Wednesday, 1 December 2010


I've been reading through some old posts, and I realize how much I complain about hubby. It's not fair. I use the blog mostly when I'm venting.

If anyone is reading out there, I have the best hubby in the world. I have yet to meet a man who I would leave hubby for. Yes, I have crushes, yes, my eyes and thoughts wander ( lots! :/), but there is no one better.

There. I said it. For once, a compliment to the father of my children.

loudmouth + inappropriate

That is what I am often considered. And I hate it. I hate it when saying the truth, identifying the elephant in the room, announcing the emperor has no clothes, saying things for what they are turns people off.

Don't get me wrong - I am not insensitive. I don't insist on abolishing kind-hearted white lies. I never blurt things out to hurt people, and I don't remember the last person who left my vicinity feeling shitty about themselves. Really. I am probably one of the most considerate, sensitive people you'll meet. People leave me feeling good about themselves (or, of course, annoyed with my ways). But NEVER shitty about themselves because of something I said.

But pretense, useless social graces, small talk, fake emotions, pretend interest in the weather, fabric softener, the lunch menu this week... I am just CLUELESS on how to mask my feelings and feign interest. The spontaneous manufacture of bullshit. I just can't do it. And it's not even that I disdain or judge them; I am hurt by those who judge me for choosing not to play that game.

I LOVE people who are down-to-earth, who are bold and unabashedly themselves. People who see truth, are truth, whose humanity is stronger than their psycho-social survival constructs. And I spent my late teens and 20s fiercely striving to be that kind of person. I know the manners, but I shirk them. I know some people think swearing is unladylike, but I find it powerful. There's nothing funnier and more tension-releasing than the perfectly-placed, or, even better, imperfectly placed f-word.

This is not my goal because of a late-adolescent rebelliousness, but because life is life. People are life. We all see mostly through the spectrum of our own experience. And there is nothing that creates a bond and establishes our common humanity more than showing vulnerability. When one person shows the other vulnerability, and the response is compassion, a bond if formed. Trust is created. A step is taken in the direction to world peace.

I am sounding so cheesy I know. But why can't people understand this about me? Why do people judge me by the wrapping that my thoughts come in? Do they not realize that the superiority they might exhibit is but an invisible, impotent weapon and that the effects of their illusion can hurt? I suppose I just contradicted myself. Their impotent weapon isn't so impotent if it can hurt.

I spent my life up until now trying to rid myself of masks. And now I have to create them again.

Or am I inching closer to selling out?


The bane of my crazy existence.

I spent two hours getting to work today. It usually takes me about an hour. If there were no traffic, 45 minutes. So 2 hours is ALOT. And just because it snowed a little. A little by Canadian standards. It was like the apocalypse for Italians or something. They all go in "tilt" as they say here. Actually, I shouldn't even complain so much. The back-up at the border was unprecedented, which means at least there were lots of Italians going to work this morning.


My gut's been fluttering and sending waves of anxiety through my body. I can barely take it anymore. I am waiting for bosses to respond to my request to go part-time next year. Ugh. It is so painful. This waiting. Wondering. Whining. Why-ing. I am paranoid. Big boss has been giving me the coldest vibes in the past few weeks, and am trying desperately not to take it personally.

Am I just scared? Or is this some intuition?

Then I have young colleagues who work for peanuts hovering like vultures asking me how long I plan to stay, how they'd like my job, blablabla. And all I can hope for is that bosses will do the right thing. I mean, why would they eliminate me for someone younger without a life who will work for almost nothing? What kind of business savvy would that show? I mean my work has never placed cutting costs over HR!

Oh shit.

stuck between a rock and a boulder

Ahhh, the trials and tribulations of free childcare via grandma vs. stay-at-home-husband angst! Each complains about the other. Both are wrong. Both are right. I get them both. I can't take sides. But I can't NOT take sides.

And it doesn't help that I've bad-mouthed mom to hubby, and hubby to mom.

Sometimes I should just keep my mouth closed and my thoughts to myself! Actually, I should probably do that lots.