20 years

My first marriage in my 20s lasted five minutes and ended when my then husband left me for his coworker. Soon after, I went through early menopause which meant my body stopped producing eggs and I’d never be able to create a baby. Over the next 14 years, I moved from NYC to California and worked at five different jobs. My handful of relationships never panned out. Although none of my beaux revealed exactly why, I had my theories. I was too much of everything: too dramatic, too sensitive, too crazy intense.   I manifested Tim before manifesting was a thing. Back then, we called it envisioning. I envisioned a man who was kind and funny and smart. Smart enough not to be scared off by a woman too dramatic, sensitive, and crazy intense. A woman who couldn’t have children and wanted to adopt. Today Tim and I celebrate 20 years of marriage. And I’ll tell you, despite my carefully curated online persona, over the past 20 years–like everyone–we’ve faced our challenges, as a couple and a family. If Tim is my rock, I may be his tidal wave. Yet somehow, we balance each other. We hold on and never let go. Happy anniversary to the love of my life, my soul mate. Here’s to another 20!

Mateo’s New Suit

My son Mateo recently discovered my old Mamalita blog and told me he loved reading about himself when he was a little boy. So I decided to cut and paste entries into a file and put together a little book for him and Olivia–the baby book I never kept except for my years of blog posts.  Here’s an entry from Spring 2013, written during a trip Mateo and I took to Antigua, Guatemala, just the two of us. Lovely to remember. Mateo’s New Suit If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ve probably figured out I’m Catholic and my husband and I are raising our kids Catholic. What does that mean, exactly? A lot of things, which I won’t go into here because I believe every religion is valid and to be respected, as is the choice of no religion at all, by the way, and I’m not telling this story as a platform to discuss my faith. No, my reason for bringing up Catholicism is to share the experience of buying for my son Mateo his very own First Holy Communion suit, from the charming purveyor of First Holy Communion suits in the photo above, who practices his fashion genius somewhere in the depths of the municipal mercado in Antigua, Guatemala. The year before, Mateo and I had bought a suit from the same distinguished gent, intending to save it for the Sacrament this April. What we hadn’t counted on was Mateo’s growth spurt, which steered the original suit pants and jacket toward clown costume territory. But try finding the same tailor in the maze of the mercado! My remembered directions sounded like this: “Walk down the right side aisle, through the section with the pirated DVDs, past the candles and flowers and soccer balls, turn left at the section with the raw meat hanging, through the wrapping paper and baskets and candy, past the shoes and wallets and leather belts, beyond the place with the sacks of rice and beans and the guy who sells machetes. Somewhere around that.” Fortunately, the lady in the First Communion dress section knew exactly where the tailor who sold First Communion suits was headquartered and she kindly escorted us to the proper stall. Success! Not shown here are the suit’s handsome complementary items: the white ruffled shirt, the black bow tie. For that, we’ll have to wait for Mateo’s First Holy Communion “big reveal.” xoxox

Mamalita audiobook

Today was Day 2 of taping the audiobook of my memoir, Mamalita. Why tape an audiobook of a book published 11 years ago? I can’t explain why, except that I own the audio rights and the time feels right. Reading the book from beginning to end brings back many details I’d forgotten. A torrent of emotions. Obviously I’m not a professional book narrator, but I bring passion to the project. With luck, the audiobook should be available by mid-December. Fingers crossed that it’s good! xoxoxo

Olivia’s visit

Olivia visited this weekend. Took the train from Merced to Emeryville, where Tim picked her up. The weather was gloriously sunny and she spent Saturday in San Francisco with a friend, eating takeout from Maya Fusion, walking through Golden Gate Park, listening to drummers from Brazil and wandering through the Cal Academy of Science. For dinner we ate outside with Susan and family and the menu included bounty from our garden: gazpacho with fresh tomatoes, pesto with basil picked a few hours earlier. We ended the meal with a delicious plum upside down cake Susan baked and brought. The set was setting and the evening was warm. We sat outside until it was dark. Olivia returned to college on Sunday. So far, so good. We’re holding our breath.

Move in day

Yesterday we dropped off our daughter Olivia for her first day as a freshman at UC Merced. I cried when we drove up to the campus and I saw the University of California sign. Olivia is a person who has had to work very hard every single day of her academic life. And here she is at UC Merced, her top school choice. When my oldest sister Patrice left for college, my mother said it was as though 5 people had moved out: Patrice’s presence loomed that large. I feel that way today. As I sit at the dining room table writing this, the house feels empty and quiet. But I draw comfort from knowing Olivia has only entered her next phase. She’s off on a new adventure, eager and ready to create her own future. xoxo