Tag: motherhood

I am a Traditional Wife

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I am still reacting to a podcast I listened to recently. I was one of the targeted women he spoke about; traditional wives. He said that it was considered by some, a “dangerous trend” “Trad wives” De repente it’s becoming popular? This dialogue pulled up that long squished question which I sometimes still struggle with in my life, “What do you do Rosie?” My answer? “Well, I’m, ummm, I’m a homemaker” (a nervous laugh usually followed) “I take care of Ben and the kids” and the response was “Oh, ummm, well that’s good…” From there, I would descend into looking for and sharing things that they might consider “worthy” Hijole! More than 3 decades have passed and the question can still rankle me. Y porque sera?

Those long repressed feelings of vergüenza rose up to laugh at me. I went to college but never got my degree. Wanting accreditation is one of my biggest hurdles, asi es, pay attention, see what I’ve done! And what have I “done?” I’ve been a  traditional wife, a woman who takes care of the affairs of her home and watches over the needs of her children. I’ve been doing this now  for 34 years of my life. Where are my degrees? Where’s my accumulated wealth? It has definitely kept me humble. 

I respect a woman who has worked hard, been disciplined and focused and completes her educational goals, I may even be a little celosa. Jealous, because it’s something I didn’t do. Heavy sigh… but also, Shout out to that woman who puts away that degree for her family. 

My story falls somewhere in the crevices of those scenarios. I am a Christian woman. Jesus is the love and Lord of my life. Every crossroads I come to in my life, He has been with me. At 19, when I chose to drop out of school midway through my 2nd year of university, it was hard. My apa was disappointed. I was so sorry, I yearned for his approval, I was supposed to be a lawyer he could be proud of, but instead I let him down. My future looked bleak to me. How in the world would I survive? God helped me. As I was moving on, young and hopeful with my whole life ahead of me, I came to another crossroads of life, Marriage. It wasn’t in my plans, well at least not until I was old. God was with me and I made the right choice to marry my Benjamin. Very soon after that I was the mother of his children. I couldn’t decide on how to describe this last bit of my history. Doesn’t it sound a bit dramatico? “The mother of his children” y pues, I am, they are his, and it pleases me to say it, declare it on the roof tops of my blog and to anyone that will hear me tell of my life as a traditional wife.

I wish I could sit here at my desk and tell you how glorious it always was. It wasn’t. I wanted financial independence, it humbled me so much to depend completely on my Benjamin, but I knew it was what he needed and what I needed and then what our kids needed. I wish I could tell you that living on a tight budget was “no big deal” Hijole! It was, and it was harder still when our kids were growing up and seeing what other kids wore and did. It was hard to tell them, “no we can’t do that this week” I wasn’t purposely boycotting McDonalds, es que, it made more sense to serve lunch at home, picnics with homemade food were a must. There were plenty of mistakes we made and many things we left out of our lives, to a certain degree I wish I would have always had the financial liberty to buy our kids those name brands and fun things. Living on one income kept the door open for me to take care of our children. It was a sacrifice for all of us. In fact, I actually went out into the workforce on a few occasions to alleviate the financial burden. Pero, making more money never really helped. I spent more money, the house was neglected, I worried constantly, wondering if the babysitter would take care of mis hijos like I would. The kids missed me and worst of all it separated me from my beloved y no crees, the whole family could feel that shift in our home.

Being home put me into a good watchful position. A place where I could see my children when the possible dangers, the bad choices and the hurting moments arrived. Gracias a Dios for this position, how did I use it? I prayed, it was a burden I couldn’t carry alone or at all sometimes. There were times I intervened, when my child was in danger physically, verbally, emotionally and mentally. There were times that I had to let them work out their dilemma and definitely their salvation, I couldn’t force my faith on them, as much I wanted to. I didn’t catch everything, I’m shocked at the things my kids uncover now and I wonder how it passed by me?! and por supuesto there were things that I didn’t handle perfectly or even correctly. Many mothers suffer from condemnation,” if only I would have done…” I have fallen into that pit plenty of times, gracias a Dios that he pulls me out everytime. Sabes que? The children are gone now, but not too far away. I’m still a traditional wife, very dependent on my Cold Blooded Englishman. I’m still taking care of my Benjamin,and when I miss the opportunity to serve him, I feel ripped off. 

Daniella suggested that I write a nice job description of a tradwife? I don’t know if I could. It’s hard work, long hours, it’s messy most of the time and very few breaks. Why in the world did I do it?  I tried to say “because I wanted to” pero honestamente, when I was young I always thought and said I don’t ever “just” want to be a wife and mother; a homemaker, like mi ama. 

Pero pues the woman, the nurturer that I was created to be, rose to the occasion when that life choice presented itself and God made a way. I’ve experienced the benefits of love, peace and joy as we have worked on our marriage relationship. I feel such pleasure to see our children grow into good people in the community, happy to give back. I have felt incredible relief as I watch them still putting their faith in Christ, like we taught them at home. I hold on to a treasure of cards my children have given me over the years, telling me how grateful they are that I have been their mother. And what can I say about being able to maintain my home and receive my growing family, gracias a Dios, may I never forget all His benefits.

En Conclusíon

One dilemma I always faced was answering the question “Rosie what do you do?”  and sometimes it made me wonder. What do I do? Pero, mira nomas, now when people ask me “What do you do?” I’ll have the trendy right answer.

How To Manage Changes

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I have made some changes. One has been to  increase my posting, y pues it is a challenge. I sit down to write and stare at my computer, I look at my phone… Oh! I gotta answer that text immediately. Hmmm…. I wonder what I can make for dinner? I am struggling. I don’t know if there’s a method, una llave? A special technique or touch that will open up the words, phrases and prose vault, where de repente, I’m flowing in writing fluency and writing good stuff regularly, like more than once a week. It’s coming, I know it, inspiration is around the corner.

 Mientras llega, I’ll share an essay (a rough draft, very rough) that I enjoyed rereading without my homeschooling teacher glasses on. No creas, I reread it and wanted to make all the corrections needed, but I remembered homeschooling days are finished! The essay was written by my 14 year old Benjamin Emery Greene, he was most likely in a hurry to get the assignment done.  Almost exactly 11 years ago, he was a very new brother in law. His older brother Jonathan and sister Daniella had just gotten married 2 months prior and he  was pondering on the big changes in our familia. It is always interesting to me the different perspectives people have, especially through the lens of children with life changing events.

Before the Weddings, After the Weddings

by Emery (age 14)

It was a week before the weddings and the house was crazy. We had guests living in our house until the weddings were over and we had my uncle staying in a trailer in our backyard. I suppose I would have been sad that my two siblings were getting married and leaving but there was no room in our house for that yet. The pantries were overflowing with pasta and our living room and backroom had wedding decorations all over. The fridge was filled with oranges and the closets had plastic plates and cups. With all the frenzy it was actually pretty fun. I liked the busyness, but then it came to a stop. After the two weddings were over, the guests slowly started to leave and the busyness vanished. Pretty soon it was down to just four; me, my little brother, my mom and my dad, but change can change you and that could be a good thing.

The weddings were beautiful. First came Jonathan’s. I especially liked his because I was a groomsman along with two of my cousins, Meno and Gerardo. I was super excited because I had never been a groomsman before and I really didn’t expect it. It was very exhilarating for me being able to sit at the big table and being served first. First we had to get ready at the house. It was actually really awkward at first because the photographers kept taking pictures of random things, like me buttoning up my shirt and putting my shoes on. But I had a lot of fun. Then when I was walking up the aisle and standing up I kept moving around because I had just heard that if you stand straight for too long you might pass out. I really didn’t want to pass out so I was really careful. Anyways it was a lot of fun. 

In Danielle’s wedding I wasn’t able to be a groomsman but I did walk down the aisle with her holding up her train with my little brother Thomas. In Danielle’s I didn’t have as much fun but it was still a nice wedding. Danielle’s was sadder to me though because she is my sister. It was especially sad when my Dad sang her a song. I think practically everyone cried. It was very sweet. Jonathan and I actually did our own song for her too. It was fun. The food was actually really good at both weddings and everyone had a good time. 

Before the weddings life was pretty different. I would say Jonathan was over more but that part hasn’t really changed. The only part that’s really different with Joanthan is that he doesn’t spend the night and he and Denise always kiss. When Jonathan first got married I thought he would never hang out with us anymore and he wouldn’t take me places but I can see now that I was wrong. I don’t go with them on dates anymore because they don’t need me. Three weeks after they were married I went to McDonalds with them. McDonalds isn’t the best place to go but it was still cool. I hung out with them almost all day because of the church outreach. It’s when our church goes around handing out flyers and stuff for church. Jonathan also came over a LOT, mainly to see his new dog, Oso. The day they got married they got a nice husky as their wedding gift. He has to stay at our house because their apartments don’t allow dogs. He’s very handsome. Denise also works close so when he gets off early he waits at our house to pick her up. As far as Danielle and Marcus, we only see them at church and sometimes a fellowship. They don’t come over much but she is really happy with him. It’s kind of funny to see the differences between Danielle and Marcus (compared) to Jonathan and Denise. Jonathan and Denise always kiss and hug but Danielle and Marcus, I don’t think I’ve seen them kiss other than on their wedding day.

Now that Danielle and Jonathan are married and have their own spouses, our life at home is a little different. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get my sister’s room but I guess I’m fine with mine. It actually feels really nice being the oldest kid in my house now but my favorite part of all is that we have more food and snacks. I guess you could call this whole experience a “journey” to help us grow and adjust. The hard part for me is the quietness. Our house is a lot quieter and less busy now that they’re gone. My schedule is also a lot freer now that I don’t have chaperone duties.  Chaperoning was fun mostly with Denise and Jonathan because they actually went out and got food and did stuff. They also included me in their conversations and laughed when I was funny. With Danielle they just went to some mountain or park and talked. They were also a good ride source for all the fellowships (church youth gatherings) and hangouts but now I need to find a new ride source. I really do miss the old times our family had; however there are benefits to our new family lifestyle also.

I have to say I didn’t mourn too much after the weddings but I definitely was sad. I am really happy for my two older siblings and their spouses and hope they have  good lives together. I hope they don’t leave their two little brothers and family out of their equation now that they’re married but remember all the times we helped and chaperoned them. Hopefully this experience has helped me grow and mature. Sometimes I don’t like the changes but as I said before. Change can change you, and that can be a good thing!

En Conclusíon:

I let the “writing bloopers” pass, it reminded me of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books without the cartoons. As I read Emery’s essay I was pulled back into those emotionally difficult days, y hasta ahora, I realized that the whole family was experiencing major changes. My Cold blooded Englishman exercised much self control as he sang a song to our beautiful daughter. My lil boys felt the loneliness of our quiet home. I mourned the loss of two children, not realizing that I would gain so much more. Por su puesto que Emery was right “Change can change you and that can be a good thing! Gracias a Dios for the many blessings that can come through changes. 

Ama To The Rescue

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El otro dia, my friend who is also an abuela, was wearing a t-shirt that said “Never Fear! Nonna is here” I loved it! Probably because it resonated with me. Somehow we abuelas always make a way to help our kids when we are able to. Pero ni se diga! For our grandkids we jump, run and maybe even speed up to help them, porque sera? 

Tuesday morning I received a text from my son. A text from my children first thing in the morning usually puts me on red alert. He needed help, mi nieta needed help. Por supuesto that I was available to help.

I left my cozy empty nest and went to help my daughter in law in her very full nest. It has been 20 years since I’ve had the daily life of raising little children and when I’m called to “mothering” like this, I’m shocked at the hard work it is. 

Here’s what my Tuesday To The Rescue looked like:

Denise walked out with Mari and closed the door behind her. Twilight Zone music is needed as we walk through this day.

Uriah, my 1 year old  nietecito had been awake for some time and he was hungry. In my opinion, mothers have a supernatural gift of interpretation. Denise, his mama deciphered through his grunts and cries. She not only discovered that he was hungry, but he did not want a cold breakfast, his gibberish screamed clearly “I want a hot meal!” Before she left Denise suggested that I make him a “huevito con wieny” She was sure that he was asking for a scrambled eggs mixed with a fried cut up hotdog. By this point his littlest big sister Rachel was up, gracias a Dios! Pero, she was too concerned about her loose tooth to pay attention to Uriah. He was demanding and protesting by throwing the dry cereal and drink off his high chair table. The mess had only just begun. 

I managed to cook up the hot meal, without too much damage to my nerves. Adevina what he did with “his ordered breakfast”…. Asi es. I needed to stop and take a deep breath. Rachel managed to eat her serving of breakfast despite her hanging bottom tooth. Y ahora, enter Nevaeh, aka Ve, pronounced Vey. Are you still tracking? Because the morning had only just begun. Ve also had a loose tooth and a worried face. I served her breakfast, but she wasn’t quite ready for it.

Uriah was done, or maybe he was undone?  I couldn’t tell if he had actually eaten, since most of his breakfast was on the floor, but he was moving to the next thing. And wanted off his high chair. De repente it was school time. Homeschoolers don’t necessarily have to get dressed right away. It does avoid at least one morning calamity, especialmente with 3 girls trying to get dressed for school each morning. In homeschooling, they can work at their desk in piyamas. Except that Ve said she preferred to wear a dress while school was in session because she noticed, (I peered into the screen) that some of the other little girls were wearing dresses, she had to hurry. I wasn’t prepared, pero gracias a Dios that Ve was on it. She came out in her dress ready for school. I guess it didn’t matter that her hair was messy. She quickly helped Rachel log on to her bible lesson, it was the first order of business for her. y luego I had the privilege of hearing Nevaeh recite the pledge of allegiance to the United States of America. It was music to my ears. 

With their headsets on, they had settled into their routine, Uriah’s clatter and clamor didn’t bother or distract them too much. He seemed to be listening to their recitals and interaction, going back and forth between the girls. Three year old Jeremiah rose from his slumber groggy and wet. Since he’s still in potty training mode his overnight diaper needed to come off and he was handling it, “very nice Jejo go through it in the trash” Then he stuck both legs into the same leg opening of his chonies, “D’ma, Dma can you help me? He was stuck in his underwear. Rachel needed help with her worksheet and Uriah wanted something, it sounded like he wanted breakfast again?! 

I did it! I got Jeremiah’s underpants on him, helped Rachel, quieted Uriah, caught my breath and then…. Everyone was hungry again. Back to the kitchen. Round and round we went. We played outside. Nevaeh coordinated a nice quesadilla and orange wedges lunch which I served. I cleaned up the kitchen, worked on more school work, worked on my blog, asi es, I managed to squeeze in some writing.  Did I mention that the puppy, Darius? Pues, he believes he’s the real baby of the family and was seeking my attention too! Y pues he got it. He got in trouble with me for interrupting my game with Jeremiah; “Iron Man and his lady friends.” Pobrecito, he didn’t know you don’t interrupt ama with a wet nose to the face, especially when she’s focused on her role play. 

En Conclusion:

 Y ahora, now that I’ve recovered, le doy gracias a Dios for my life. Technically I would write my gratitude list in my gratitude dairy but I think it fits right on this page.

Primero, gracias a Dios that everyone was well, that the urgent doctor visit wasn’t so urgent after all.

Luego, I realize that I’m still living that “stay at home and raise my kids life” only now I’m available for my nietos. Thanks to my covering; Benjamin Greene, who has taken good care of us, his family for 34 years.

Tambien, gracias a Dios for my daughter in law, God bless her and give her wisdom and strength to teach, influence and pray my grandchildren into God’s Kingdom.

Y finalmente, I am grateful for my grandchildren, they add so much sugar and spice to my life. Nevaeh was a wonderful little helper, and all the others were little angels of course. My son Jonathan says that they’ve got me whupped!” Hijole!

You know you’re a grandparent when you laugh when your grandkids do the same things that made you so angry when your kids did them.” – author unknown

Celebrating 33 Years of Motherhood

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Let The Redeemed of The Lord Say So

Tomorrow is my firstborn’s birthday and I want to shout it on the mountain tops that Jonathan Esteban Greene es mi hijo. I labored very hard on March 5th, 33 years ago and out of me, imaginate, came this beautiful baby boy who captured my heart. In my really loud voice, I want the world to know that I love him so much. That handsome young man is a product of our marriage covenant, he is our blessing and I love to tell anyone that will listen who my children are. My pastor always quotes “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so” 

For 33 years I’ve watched and prayed for this son of mine, he is a man that doesn’t share his heart too much, too many words are just that, too many words. Acuerdense, he is Benjamin Greene’s son, my Cold blooded Englishman, man of few words. Pero as his mother, sometimes I just know when I must pray and pray.  I’ve held my breath as the pages of his life have turned. 

  • His adolescent years were angry ones as he was fighting God. He wanted God in his world sometimes, only when necessary, and it ticked him off when God convicted him of his sin. Why was everything he liked a sin? God was boring, God’s ways were boring and God obviously didn’t care for him. 
  • As a teenager, when he got out of that gawky weird stage and he turned into a fine young stud, the girls were looking his way and he tried to hide his “god” into a nice “Sunday only” religion. In high school he was considered a “nerdy white boy” He was determined that things were going to change.They did. He had to figure out adulthood, more schooling? Working? Girls? He went back and forth too afraid to go all the way into the dark alleys of the world but sick of “religion.” How uncomfortable it is to know the scripture in Mat 28:20 “…I am with you always, even unto the ends of the earth” when you crave things outside of God’s path.
  • When sweet Denise captured his heart, he gave in to God for just a little while, maybe just maybe there was something good in God’s plan after all. He didn’t pay too much attention to God as he recited his marriage vows and made her his wife. Gracias a Dios that He was with them, marriage can be wearisome to put it nicely, pero sin Cristo? Hijole! 
  • When he became a father and he didn’t know what to do with this fragile little bundle, he remembered God again and then again as the children came, pero aun asi, Jesus needed to be Lord of his life, all of it.
  • Then came that life changing encounter with God that propelled him into his true destiny, the road to salvation, the road to peace and to his calling. 

In this manner, my first born has battled through a few things, tripping and falling on his face at times, but he is clinging to Jesus, he remembers what he’s been pulled out of, and with that knowledge I rest. This weekend I will celebrate his birthday with such pleasure. Mi hijo es, como dice el dicho “un hombre hecho y derecho” He is a man’ s man! A hardworking tradesman by day; go ahead and call the plumber. Mas importante, he’s God’s man. He has responded to his calling to preach the Gospel of Jesus and is a pioneer pastor, he’s out in the fields gathering the crops and then gleaning for the Lord of the Harvest. 

“Mi hijo, is a good man!” Feliz cumpleaños a mi Primogénito! I love its intensity in español. To my first born I say “Que Dios te Bendiga Jonathan Esteban” and your Tata would say “Echale ganas!” 

How To Management When Your Empty Nest Fills Up

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Deja, te platico about my Empty Nest experience, in case I haven’t already. Wikipedia describes it as “a feeling of grief and loneliness” When my first born was “muy hombrecito” and it was time for him to move at 19 years old, my heart felt like something was torn out of it.  Que feo! That brick in my heart was heavy. I cried silently and wore death on my countenance, hijole! It hurt so much. Then just as soon as I had recovered, que pasa? Both of my young adult children choose to get married, one right after the other, a week apart.  I still had two more boys at home, shouldn’t I have been too busy to feel that Empty Nest Syndrome so intensely? It was muy dramatico, In a very latina fashion. Now another son is married and moved out and the youngest is grown and spreading his wings. Pero gracias a Dios,  I have overcome and adjusted.

Those things I dreaded have been conquered!

Benefits of and Empty Nest

  • A quiet house- it took a minute to get used to it, the chatter at the dinner table I do miss at times, but a quiet house can be so restful. 
  • No worries about a babysitter- We come and go, not a bit anxious about how the kids are doing. Well maybe a little bit for Thomas still, but he doesn’t need a babysitter anymore.
  • Housework is cut in half! Or less, it’s easier to keep it up.
  • Going out on a date is so much easier-now. just about finding a free night or making a slot in our busy schedule. I do wonder how it is that we continue to be so busy with no kids filling our schedule? 
  • And last but definitely not least is that after 34 years of marriage and 4 raising kids, we want to be friends and enjoy one another’s company. We are relearning each other and enjoying this phase while at same time totally enjoying our adult kids and our grandkids. 

We, Ama and Apa have embraced the Empty Nesters life. Kids and grandkids visit then go home. Every few days we gear up because our Empty Nest gets full of adult children and grandchildren and sometimes Ben and I feel like we’ve gone through the “drain & spin” cycle of our washer. During those visits, I’ve got 3 hats on; mom, ama and hostess! It gets crazy to maneuver through the chatter and make sense of all that’s going on. When we recover with a moment of silence, sometimes lasting up to four days, we wonder where everyone is at why haven’t they come over?

Yesterday the grandkids visited us. It was very exciting. Each one of my nietas came loaded with a backpack and large drinking water bottle. Mari, the oldest, was also carrying a grocery bag full of goodies. While they were diligently distributing their hugs, first Ama then Apa, I asked “Wow! Are you moving in?” Nope! They were just visiting, but they came prepared because at amas house there are no toys anymore and they weren’t sure if I was gonna have enough food for their little army. A disclaimer is needed, I am always prepared or quickly get prepared when it comes to offering food, I wouldn’t be a true latina otherwise!  As for their backpack full of things to do, asi es!  I got rid of the toybox! Although they constantly leave some of their toy accessories behind. Our quiet house exploded in noise and activity. “Ama what are we going to eat? Ama look what I can do! Ama what are we going to do? Let me tell you the funny thing that happened to us.” Uriah the baby woke up cranky and hungry. Ama and Apa had barely fastened on seatbelts! We’d been out of town for a couple weeks, so it was a whirlwind evening. I missed them and the good conversation I get with my daughter in law. Thomas, our last one still at home, who is not too adjusted to our quiet house, was loving the chaos. 

Apa making popcorn with our nietos

En Conclusion:

Gracias a Dios that I have the best of both worlds. I love being Ama and I love quiet days, with some conversation and alone time with my flaco. 

How To Survive October 31

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Costumes and Candy

El Halloween is here and it can be a stressful time. Costumes and candy is something we do all year round, but en Halloween, it really was a dread to me as we were raising our children. 

When I was chiquita, I loved that candy season, a pillowcase full of all kinds of dulces that of course, I ate in moderation. That’s right, no cute plastic pumpkin basket, a sturdy pillowcase to contain all my loot was needed, besides, like every other holiday, mi ama was a minimalist when it came to holiday paraphernalia. What I didn’t know was that October 31 most likely stressed her out too. The whining and the nagging for stuff for that day rained down on her usually a couple of days before Halloween.

“Ama, can you buy me a costume like Lil Debbie’s?” A bruja costume? All the little girls were witches

“Ama, we’re having a party at school, will you buy cookies? 

“Ama, what costume can I wear? I have to have a costume”

“Ama, do you have enough candy for the kids that come to our house?

“Amaaaa, I don’t know what to wear for Halloween.” (read that in the whiny voice)

“Ama, can I use your _____ for my costume? I’ll be careful with it.

“Ama, can I go trick or treating? (this started around kindergarten age)

“Ama, Patty doesn’t want to go with me. (I had to bargain with Patty with candy I didn’t have yet)

Then it was over and she was left with the aftermath of too much candy and cavities lurking, waiting to pounce.

Then when I grew up, or when I turned 18 and became a Christian, Halloween became the “holiday of witches and goblins” Hijole! No more Halloween as I knew it. Pero luego, my pastor turned it into a tool for evangelism. All of a sudden, my church was out on the streets on trick or treat day, maximizing the opportunity to bring the Gospel to the streets. Y pues that was great for me as a single young woman, we created street dramas and introduced a “Haunted House” with a Gospel message, they were scary! I had a great time sharing candy and the  message of Jesus, a win, win situation. Pero! Then I grew up some more.  I got married and had kids and they learned about costumes and candy, hijole! 

I found myself slowly unraveling in my resolve to not participate in Halloween like the world did. If I dressed my kid up, was I a compromising Christian? Was I partaking in the devil’s schemes? Would I confuse my kids? What would Jesus Do? Esperate. I’m not mocking or dwindling this issue down to a “silly notion” this was a real fight within me, I was frustrated that I seemed alone in this stand I was making. 

 Here’s how it went down through the years as we raised our kids.

  • At school if Halloween fell on a school day, I didn’t dress them up, but la maestra always had back up costumes for those poor little kids who didn’t bring a costume from home. My son Jonathan, in his first year of school, asked if he could wear his cowboy boots, vest and hat to school that week of Halloween and I confess, I knew what he was doing, but I also knew that he loved to dress like a cowboy all the time, so I let him. I think it was Daniella who told me how “terrible” it was for them to be singled out as the pobrecitos, poor little kids who were denied the costume experience on Halloween. Everyone felt sorry for them.
  • At church, while the adults evangelized the kids had fun at a small church Harvest Festival we moms organized. Pero! No witches, ghosts or scary costumes were allowed. We even tried bible characters, but as creative as we mom’s got, the kids all looked alike! Once in a while a mom stepped out and dressed her kid like the Balaams donkey who talked in the bible. Like my ama, I was “the minimalist mom” with costumes. I knew how to work with what you already had at home.
  • The adolescent years were tricky. Three  kids in the mix had whittled down my resolve. The secret discussions about Halloween always happened between my kids, they planned without me and I was always impressed at their creativity. Emery was the master at pushing for what he wanted. He worded and timed his requests for help  for optimal results. Y pues, I remembered how I plotted as a kid during Halloween.

  • By the fourth kid, I was hands on in planning out costumes for Thomas. Daniella, his “little mother” was creative and resourceful, y pues we had a good time. At this point in parenting I realized that trick or treating and costumes were the least of my parenting battles. They were harassed by temptation and peer pressure at school and at church. They were facing the reality of God’s pressure. 

En conclusion:

Halloween isn’t so scary to me anymore. We buy candy to share, appreciate the creative costumes and take the opportunity to share the message of Jesus. As far as surviving, just keep the main thing, the main. Porque sabes que? Even on October 31 Jesus is Lord!

Ama Heard Me Crying

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I was having a quiet moment with my daughter, por supuesto que we were talking about very important matters, when her ears perked up, I could see in her face that she was making a calculation about something in her head. Then as I heard my grandbaby crying, her youngest son who’s not so baby, she put her attention back to our conversation. I had already put on my “Ama al rescate” cape. I was ready to rescue him. I said “Don’t you hear?” She calmly responded “yes, but I can tell he’s not hurt, they’ll work it out” A pos si! I’d forgotten that a mother can recognize and distinguish the different alarms her child sounds. And usually she knows when to run to him, or when he’s safe and he must figure it out. Hijole! I was all tangled up in my “rescue cape” Don’t get me wrong, I know moms (me) who have missed the cry for help or were too slow, but God helped us. Thankfully, in todays story, my Ama arrived to pull Fernando out of his mess!

The American Dream

Para mi familia, coming to “El Norte” was a slow process that began in Mexicali Baja California, a border city. This is where many other  immigrants began their pursuit of the “American Dream. My apa worked across the border and my ama probably worked harder at taking care of their growing family. They went to live in a colonia where housing and plumbing wasn’t very personal and definitely not cozy. The need for housing intensified as people were arriving. One “solution” to the growing population and daily needs was to build shared outhouses in the colonia. Everything in my sheltered inexperienced mind is grappling with the idea of leaving my house to use the bathroom. Pero pues, I’m trying to understand the logic behind this solucion. Gracias a Dios, that children are different. They’re resilient, they see most things as adventures.

Un dia, while my ama was busy, the kids were out playing. Fernando was out in the colonia playing ball with his friends, he doesn’t remember if he was playing soccer, but he was hard at play. Y de repente! That’s how it is with latinos, every story has an “all of a sudden!” element. They all noticed the BIG hole in the ground and curiosity got a hold of them. After having raised three boys myself, I can attest to the fact that boys like to take curiosity to another level! After some speculation they concluded that the ollo was for the new outhouse that was coming soon. They peered into it, they sized it up and one another and put out the challenge. “Who can get out of the ollo?” They all decided they could easily, no problem. Right here, I’ll embellish Fernandos story, because he doesn’t remember, and I have faced 3 little boys who ALWAYS did everything better and faster. Is it possible that Chapparro was too eager to top all the other boys? Por supuesto que si! And before he knew it, they were all daring him to prove it. He faced that hole and the dare, I can only imagine how much time he took ruminating about the act of the big jump. For sure the voices of his friends echoed in his mind. “You can’t do it” “Tienes miedo” and then, he was in the hole. When he looked up, his friends were gone and he was stuck. A hole that was all of a sudden an insurmountable height, maybe five feet high, he was about 3 ft high himself. Panic struck him as he realized that he couldn’t get out, forever trapped in the newly dug outhouse hole. It took him no time at all to sound his alarm. “Ama! Ama!” No response. Panic gripped him and his voice went up a notch “Ama! Ama!” and the tears gushed as he cried “Amaaa! Amaaa!” The ollo was closing in on him as he screamed for ama. And then she was there, relief flooded him. 

The Board of Education

When he was out of the hole, his relief lasted a moment because he had to face ama and answer the questions. “Porque hiciste eso?” She would never understand his need to prove himself, but he would have to learn quickly that he must stay away from dangerous scenarios. And for that short quick lesson the ‘board of education’ was needed. Fernando says that one of his grade school teachers referred to the paddle for disciplining like this. Ya se, this is a sensitive topic, so I’m just sharing facts, ama spanked him as needed, y pues all of her children felt the “board of education” as needed. She didn’t beat or abuse him, she loved him. The lesson of not following the crowd, or listening to the voices of foolishness would be ongoing lessons that everyone faces.

Gracias a Dios that my ama learned how to discern those different cries we let out as we experienced life and came to our rescue, aid or encouragement as needed. It’s pretty special to watch a mom in action when her child cries out. I have a beautiful friend who sometimes will hear her kids cry and doesn’t follow the crowd of moms who sometimes apapachan, you know hover and immediately pull their child out of their distress, without giving him/her a chance to work things out and learn their own boundaries and establish them. This fiesty latina, will hear and recognize their need and choose not to be anxious for them. 

Whether or not a mother hovers about and runs to every cry, or picks and chooses which cry is a genuine emergency, the main thing is that a mother hears her child’s cries. 

My Middle Child

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According to the Birth Order character trait mold, my middle child should have been one that avoided conflict, looked for the road that was smooth and avoided conflict. Hijole! My middle child broke that mold! This is my birthday shout out to my hijo!, his birthday is coming up next week, his golden birthday.

He was for five years el “baby” enjoying his papis shoulder. Everywhere we went he was seen carried by his daddy. It was a cozy time for him,  but one day, all of a sudden, he was squished into the middle position, his daddy was carrying his little brother. He would have to fight for his turn on daddy’s shoulder now. Today, I’ll brag about my middle child. He is a sweet little brother and a great big brother. He is a grateful son who honors his parents by his godly choices. 

How can I describe my son to you? I want to paint the beautiful picture of what I see, what God sees. Pero, he’s the watercolor painter, not me. 

One of the ways I love to commemorate the gift of my children on is by remembering the day they were born. Unforgettable experiences for sure. Pero, pa que me hago! I love talking about my inheritance any chance I get. Fíjense, these are just a glimpse of my roller coaster ride with this child of mine:

Emery is a tardy kid, he manages to make people wait. On the day that he was born, I pushed for two hours before he realized it was time to make his grand entry. It was more like he was prodded out. 

Emery was a quiet child, until he was not. Some of our friends wondered if he could talk, they don’t anymore. He said what needed to be said for his “rights” to be considered. His little voice would chime in with, “I don’t agree” when plans were being made. His two older siblings say that he got away with way too many things.

Emery was my one child that went to preschool, because the doctor prescribed it. His pediatrician was worried that he was much too clingy to me. He warned me that kindergarten would be a nightmare for him if I didn’t get him started in preschool. Perhaps we were both clingy because when I dropped him off, we both cried. 

Emery clung to the ‘baby’ title as long as he could. Even after Thomas, the baby, was born, he still had the ‘power’ to influence me before the verdict was pronounced, “caso cerrado!” When the case was closed and I said no, he found a loophole. When the verdict had gone in his favor, he asked for more! 

Emery makes a friend easily. Una vez, when he was a young teen, I had to intervene with a friendship and bring a healthy separation, hijole! You would think that I had condemned him to a life of banishment! He used all his “debating skills” Ya se! A real Mexicana would have squelched that right down, con la mirada! You know that look that warns you to stop while you’re ahead. Pero, Emery Greene, he’s something else. That day, he cried at the injustice of my mothering, and in secret I cried too. Pero mira, it all worked nicely, he established good healthy friendship boundaries.

Emery is confident in our love for him. He loves us, he trusts us and appreciates us. I wanted to say “Emery loves me” but it felt a little narcissistic. Es que, somehow, through the years this pushy middle child of mine has not been repelled by this strong Latina woman and he’s pulled me, su madre,  into his circle of most confidant friends.

En conclusión: 

I said to myself, I hope que todo el mundo sees, just how blessed I am! when I put on that “madre culeca” robe and tell you about my blessings, it’s because the Bible says “let the redeemed of the Lord say so!” 

Feliz cumpleaños a mi little flaco: Benjamin Emery Greene. Like my cuñada Mary says “Que te valla bien y Que Dios te bendiga y te cuide” May It go well with you, May God bless and keep you.

Thankful for my Ama

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I am thankful for the short 22 years I had with my Ama. She gave a lot for her family, and it’s only in hindsight that I can see the trail she left behind so that I could follow it to find my way. Isn’t it always the case that afterwards we see better? She was a daughter, sister, friend, wife, in-law, mother and grandmother. Looking back makes you see and regret what you missed, it makes me sorry for all the things I didn’t do to make her life easier. I’ve definitely regretted  the attitudes of ungratefulness and the sassy disrespect. Ahora si, I understand un poquito what she must have felt with the weight of her decisions. If only I could tell her all the decisions, sacrifices and labors I’m grateful for. I am praying and believing in God for the opportunity to say all this to my Ama in person one day. Cómo dicen por hay, “Practice makes perfect” I’ll start now:

10 Reasons I’m Thankful For My Mother

  1. For coming to El Norte with my apa. You left so much behind. You left your ama, not knowing when you would see her again. You followed your heart with your ama’s blessing and big brother backing. I remember those days when you spoke about your big brother El Chino. The one who stepped in when your father died. He protected and guided you and took care of you. I remember the respect and grateful heart you held for him and I remember your yearning to be near him again. 
  2. For coming to America, my fathers dream. You gave up much of your culture and comfort to follow him, you gave him all your love and brought it into a new home for him and your growing family.
  3. For insisting on “En esta casa se habla espanol” I’ve managed to retain my Spanish although some might call it my spanglish.
  4. For raising us with some tough boundaries. Thank you for not letting us bully or manipulate you into compromising our safety and our future. 
  5. For persevering in your marriage. When things got difficult and you wanted to throw in the towel, you didn’t. I am eternally grateful for your willingness to establish la familia Zepeda.
  6. For teaching me the unseen side of homemaking. You worked hard and cooked with love in your kitchen. My flaco is thankful too.
  7. For opening your heart and home to your in-law children. Even though you and Ben didn’t speak the same language, your hospitality communicated your acceptance. Your kindness took away my fears.
  8. For keeping us connected to our extended family. I’ve learned so much about you through them.
  9. For believing in me. You always saw good things from me. Yo se que I was a selfish little teenage brat and an insecure young adult but you thought differently of me. Mom, I can’t wait for you to meet my kids- they are great! You would be an abuela clueca with all your beautiful grandchildren and great grandchildren. 
  10. For pointing us to the God of the Universe. Teaching us that our hope rested in the author of our lives. Gracias, that you embraced the things I learned in my born again experience and you rest in peace today. No me canso, I wait patiently (most of the time) for that blessed hope when I see you again ama. 

Mil Gracias Ama (A Thousand Thanks Ama)

Questions for Ama:

I have some snippets of stories told about my amas life, like puzzle pieces. But the puzzle is incomplete. I have so many questions I’d ask her if she were with me today. Those details that mostly us girls are interested in. Ama? What was your wedding ceremony like? Was there a celebration on such a grand day? Ama? What did you feel like the day you knew you were having your first baby? Did you ever think you’d be away from your mother? What did you think when you found out you were having your 9th baby? The questions multiply as I experience things she experienced too, the latina in me creates novelas with such climatic endings. 

Feliz Cumpleaños 

Although I wish I would have had more time to forge an adult relationship with her, I am so grateful for the years and memories I do have. She lived her life in love with her family and it showed by all she gave up. This coming week is her birthday and I wanted to remember her again. Ya sabes, birthdays are for celebrating. Imaginate, God took some time to form and shape us and it’s nice to appreciate Him for that on our birthdays. I’m grateful He shaped my Ama and that He chose her to be my mother to shape me. 

Don’t Get a Red Card for Your Parenting

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Do you have any parenting regrets? Those early years go so fast and the firstborn can often be a guinnea pig receiving all the mistakes first time mothers can give.

As I was frantically looking for my wedding day photo with my ama, going through picture after picture, my eyes scanned the images like flashcards, or flash photos, a lifetime on fast forward. Despite my worry at not finding that picture I couldn’t help smiling, remembering and even yearning for all the days gone by. 

Then my eyes were arrested on a memory of one of my kids’ birthday celebrations. Once again the regret of that day creeped up on me. How can some things be so vivid so many years later? It was no big deal to him, he enjoyed himself and he forgave me 😊 but the lesson I learned that day affected and changed me. 

Parenting gives us too many opportunities to respond quickly. All kinds of images conjure up verdad? Here’s one: A friend once told me that in her third trimester of pregnancy she was at a pool party, things were great until a toddler fell into the pool, hijole! And what happened? Everyone froze! Seconds ticked by in slow motion, but she immediately jumped into the pool and pulled that child out and saved a life. Mil veces! Thank God that her big belly didn’t slow her quick response. As parents we need that, but the quick response I’m talking about is with words and judgments, asi es. 

Sometimes people, that means me too, tend to be quick with words and responses, not stopping to consider a situation more closely. This can be costly or hurtful. Here’s a lesson I learned as a newbie mother. 

Although I was new at parenting I recognized that follow through was critical. Follow through meant your word was reliable. If you said you would do it, then you should. Maybe I was incredibly strict with this because God had delivered me from habitual lying. It was no longer my habit. So how does this apply to parenting? Bueno, God really helped me teach my first born and later my other kids that lying was sin, an ugly violation which only led to bigger lies, problems and unnecessary hurt. What I said to my kids I meant. If they were misbehaving and I threatened with a certain consequence, I followed through, I needed to be careful with my words verdad? Mira lo que paso, 

My 5 year old was starting kindergarten and it was nerve racking for all kinds of reasons I conjured up. At his Spanish Immersion School, he was going to learn Spanish since his mother was miserably failing at teaching him. No me juzguen, don’t judge me, just hear me out. Although I speak, read and write Spanish well enough, it’s not at the forefront of my mind. Acuerdense, I was born and raised here in the United States. Besides, in our home; the Greene household, we spoke English. Needless to say I needed help if I wanted my son to learn Spanish, so off to the immersion he went.

Spanish Immersion

 Immersed in Spanish, like when you get dunked in the pool was my 5 year old at school. Teachers, aids, administrators, most all adults spoke only in Spanish, he was lost in a sea of spanish words. For Kindergarteners communication was mostly charades and facial expressions for survival in those first few months. 

Good Card-Bad Card

The other thing they got immersed in was color coded behavioral cards. Each teacher; Senora o Senorita, had her own “code of conduct” color system. It might have been like this: green, yellow, orange and red cards. Every child started their day with a the green card for good behavior (no association with my name 😏 ) As the day wore on and infractions happened a child would get warnings for disrupting and get their card changed to yellow. If they continued to digress, they would be demoted to orange. Finally, after several warnings a child would get the dreaded red card. Shame! Shame! Daniella called it “the walk of shame” as the guilty child had to walk up the aisle while all eyes were on him or her and change the card under his or her name to the repulsive red card. Only if it wasn’t too late in the day, he or she might be able to regain the good conduct green card.

The Red Card

After getting over his nervousness of a new environment Jonathan was enjoying his independence, maybe too much. He tended to talk to his new friends in English, at the wrong times and with no volume control. He tends to be loud like his mother, a naturally booming voice. (I must say that today he is a good preacher :)) Pues ya te imaginas! It got him in a lot of “red card” trouble. La Maestra had already pulled me aside on Open House night to tell me about Jonathan’s talkative ways. I tried all kinds of threats and disciplines to get him to change “the error of his ways” By the time March rolled around, I was tired of the red cards. I must tell you that Jonathan when he was confronted by the teacher about disrupting, if he was guilty, he admitted it. He didn’t wait to be found out, he always disclosed the truth about the red card even though he knew he would get in trouble, he didn’t want to be a liar. Those red cards became his thorn and my nightmare!

My son’s birthday was around the corner. How could a red card put such a gloomy outlook on a birthday? February was closing in on us and the red card taunted me one Thursday afternoon. Como pues? I said to my not so self-controlled 5 year old “If you promise not get a red card for the next few days we’ll have your birthday party, otherwise we won’t”  What did his birthday have to do with the red card? At that point I wasn’t asking for a green card (no pun intended) I was asking for any color but a red card. 

The race was on. Red was chasing him through the class room but he finished the week with no red stains. It worked! Then it didn’t. He stepped off the bus the next school day and he wasted no time in telling me about the latest red card. We both cringed at the ugly truth. 

Que iba hacer? Birthdays have always been a “Let’s have a big party” occasion for me. Invite friends, family and have a great feast and fun. Everything was set and the invitations were out. I had to cancel, Jonathan got a red card and the judgment had already been pronounced, there was to be no party. Porque dije eso? Why had I threatened to punish him like this? Really? No birthday Party? Oh God, I was wrong to speak without thinking. I truly am not sure which of us was more sorry. 

I took him outside to the backyard and there I explained as best you can to a 5 year old that his birthday party would be cancelled. For a moment I think he believed his day would be erased from the calendar, then he realized he wouldn’t have friends over. The piñata and the candy wouldn’t be used and worse still, was all the gifts wouldn’t be lavished on him and he was sad. I cried because I regretted my words. I got a red card that day.

En Conclusion:

I did follow through and cancel his birthday party that year, we quietly celebrated his birthday with pizza and cake. His amigito Richard came to dinner that evening. 

Dios Mio! I learned a valuable lesson that day in parenting, beware of loose cannonball words and foolish empty threats because what you say matters. Thank God for His mercy, my son grew into a man of God. He’s using that powerful voice as a preacher today.

Pastor Greene and his proud Mexican-American Mama


Me imagino, that every parent has that “lesson learning” parenting occasion in life that makes you stop when you feel the pinch of reprimand and you recognize, “O.k. I’m not going that way again” Andale, tell me, what have you learned from your kids? Have you turned that “red card” day into a lesson learned and a profitable tool?