Suburbia meets Country

A short hour drive northwest of Lafayette is a small town called Iota. There we visited a retired couple (friends of my sister and her boyfriend) who own 20 something acres of land and built their quaint house in the middle of endless pine trees with a guest cottage and a barn. Talk about awesome! I never felt such at peace before. I could definitely see myself living here. Both our children had a blast! They rode a gentle horse named Jericho, got to drive a tractor, and played with the farm cat. My little one said he never wants to leave. Maybe one day we will have a chance to live like that. It's something we've thought about doing for a long time. We would need to dig deep (and I mean DEEP) into our past generations and sharpen our farming skills. Hey! It's the biggest trend right now! Living off the grid!

Happy Haunting

I must've walked through a time warp and now we are here. It seems I was complaining about traffic jams in Kuala Lumpur just the other day. Lost my cat (and almost my eye) somewhere in Texas. Crowded memories are all I have of our last move and the one before that. Just a year ago we were unpacking and reestablishing ourselves in Fulshear FOR GOOD (so we thought). And now (before I can say 10 Mississippi's), we are in Lafayette, Louisiana settling into our NEW home, starting a new chapter. I can't believe it's been a year already! I'm not gonna lie, moving from place to place within such a short time frame has its effects on people. It's fucking with my brain for one. I find myself pulling out the wrong drawers, opening the wrong cabinets, walking into the wrong rooms and constantly daydreaming about our last home. It's enough to drive me insane. I managed to isolate myself from others as this may cause a slight twitching in one of my eyes. Imagine speaking with anyone in this unstable state to talk about our journey here and why we moved so many times, as if we're outlaws, running away from something or someone. But, I'm okay with it. I've always gravitated toward solitude. It's a place where I can just BE.

What makes us stranger and odder with each move, we're unpacked and ready to introduce ourselves on the spookiest month of the year. October. "GREETINGS AND HAPPY HAUNTING TO YOU ALL, WELCOME!" We go all out with skulls on stakes and creepy spiderwebs. We welcome our new neighbors on Halloween night with a ghoulish spread. Not to mention that it's our favorite season, and how I, amazingly, manage to keep track of all of our Halloween decor after ALL THOSE MOVES!

HAPPY HAUNTING!

To be continued...

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

This morning, as I prepared my breakfast which consisted of fresh avocados, queso fresco (fresh cheese) wrapped in a corn tortilla, some pepper accidentally landed in my glass of OJ. I then thought, why not sprinkle some more? To my tastes buds' wonderment... It was Pretty. Damn. GOOD.
I shall name it; ORANGE YOU AWAKE YET?!
`(Recipe follows)

ORANGE YOU AWAKE YET?!

8oz of Orange juice of your liking

1 to 2 sprinkles, or MORE, of black pepper

For an explosive taste and extra BANG, Substitute cayenne pepper. Oh, what the hell, add a splash of vodka to give it Bigger BANG. 

Tip of the Day: Cayenne pepper is one of the best natural herbs for weight loss.


Now stir and enjoy!



“You see things and you say, ‘Why?’ But I dream things that never were and I say, ‘Why not’?” – George Bernard Shaw

Optometrist vs Ophthalmogist

"Great News!" is what she said. "What you have is not internally, but superficial. The white spot you have on your retina is called "phlyctenule" which is the red angry leash of blood vessels responding to your inflammation and a bacteria called "Staphylococcus" on your eyelid." (Stegasauruswhah?) "You have Staphylococcal hypersensitivity, to be precise. This occurs when you accumulate more bacteria than usual. Sometimes excess oils in the Meibomian glands will stimulate more bacterial growth on the lids." Okay, whatever you say, Doc. I'm just happy that I'm finally at the RIGHT place, seeing the RIGHT kind of doctor, with the RIGHT prognosis.

You see, eventually, when my eyelid puffed up like the size of a giant marshmallow, is when I made the decision to see a doctor right away. Hence, I began my search online. Well, as I typed ophthalmologist, I misspelled the word which then Google corrected, which THEN popped up with the word optometrist. Apparently, I was in panic mode at the time, because I would've recognized it then that this is a much more complex situation that needed to be treated by an ophthalmologist. Instead, I called right away to book an appointment for that day with the first optometrist that popped up on the list of doctors in the area. I don't entirely fault Google for this. I should have known something was wrong when I arrived at the clinic. Every person in there browsing nonchalantly at fashionable eyewear with their not-a-worry-in-the-world look, I was the only one who had the just-stepped-out-of-the-ring-with-Mike-Tyson look. To seal the deal, while I patiently waited for the optometrist to walk in, a tall and dark, handsome young man entered the room wearing godawful green scrubs. (Well hello there, Doctor) (Why, indeed, you can look in my eye) And he did. He did with an enormous thingamajig and said it's an ulceration, prescribed me antibiotics and suggested to come back to see him in a week. (I can hardly wait) So after the fourth day of using the antibiotics, and still not seeing any improvements, I went in to see him earlier than intended with the one eye I had left. (I'm afraid we need to stop seeing each other. You blinded me with Science...Literally) "You're right. It's not getting better, but the good news is it's not getting worse, and I will need to recommend you to an ophthalmologist who specializes in the retina and can diagnose you appropriately." (Opthalmolowhah?)

So I had to say goodbye to my optometrist, and off I went to see the right kind of doctor I had originally thought of seeing in the first place had it not been for Google Smarty Pants!

An eye infection is a serious matter.

I never thought it can happen to me, even though I wear contacts, AND there's an increased risk for those who do. The thought has always haunted me with great fear. A corneal ulcer can be devastating to the eye. You can go BLIND if left untreated. I am extremely apprehensive and I scrupulously wash my hands before putting in my contacts, and rarely sleep with them in. I replace my contact case every couple of weeks and soak the lenses in eye disinfecting solution every night. So how did this happen? WHY ME?!

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I racked my brain trying to figure out how and why. Is it an age thing? (There's nothing good about getting old) Could it be an immune deficiency? (It's only going to get worse) Am I drinking too much? (What am I suppose to do with my pastime?) Did I become careless somehow by washing my hands inadequately prior to inserting my contacts? (Having a visual of my kids wiping my ass) Was it the eyeshadow I wore? I didn't wash off my eye makeup and fell asleep with my contacts in that ONE particular night. I remember them feeling a bit dry and irritated when I awoke. (Gone are the days of feeling carefree) In the morning, I took out my contacts and wore my eyeglasses until they recouped. My eyes eventually felt better but never 100%. (Like I said there's nothing good about getting old) 

I've always believed that everything happens for a reason, and now, I'm suffering the consequences of my carelessness. Perhaps I should have heeded the signs and gone to see an optometrist before this could ever happen. For that, I'm faced with possible scarring and hopes that this clears up quickly with antibiotics prescribed by my doctor.  

Moving forward, I'm not taking any more chances. I threw out the eyeshadow I wore that night and the contacts. I also threw away the case. I have plans to revisit the optometrist in a week and hope for the best. And if and when this clears up, and my eyes feel dry and irritated again, I will see an eye doctor without hesitation. 

The moral of this story, never let your guard down or take things for granted, unless you want to pay the ultimate price by losing your eyesight.

Mother Shark

Whaaat?!

Why aren't we born with natural instincts to survive without our mothers like that of a shark? Disciplining and preparing both my six-year-old and my eight-year-old to function properly in this godforsaken world has got to be one of the hardest parts for me. It's utterly exhausting and overwhelming in short. They test the limits and push the boundaries until I've reached the breaking point. Typically in the mornings as I'm getting them ready for school.

I've googled parenting advice online and downloaded countless books. But let's face it, every mom becomes an expert after having a child, feeding knowledge through the internet to fresh, newly-weakened comers starving for liberation (I'm guilty as they come). Some who are authors who write books that possibly become a New York Times Best-Seller. Successfully selling them off the shelf to desperate, frazzled moms (like me). And then, there are those of us who blog about it in hopes that Huffington Post will take notice and spread like wildfire. All excellent parenting advice, but I've YET to develop a technique that STICKS.

I then dug deep into my roots and shifted towards my ancestor's method; most relate to the old school way; magically whipped out a hefty size belt-buckle in midair. I thought, why not if it worked on me? I've tried the Latin way, sported a wooden spoon around my neck and occasionally grabbed a chancleta (any slip-on shoe) when one was within reaching distance. But this sort of discipline did nothing, as it had the opposite effect on mine! They'd laugh instead of cry for God's sake! What child does that?! MINIONS!

"YOU WILL NOT TOUCH ANYTHING
EXCEPT FOR THE AIR AND
THE FLOOR."

Nothing seemed to work. My 'MINIONS' were overtaking the entire house. My anxiety and frustration just grew bigger and BIGGER. I even tried military discipline by deepening my voice with authority and shout, "GET YOUR FREAKING BUTT OVER HERE OR ELSE", or, "DON'T MAKE ME KNOCK YOU OUT IN FRONT OF THE NEIGHBORS", or,"I SAID MOVE IT...MOVE IT" I could have written a rap song...But nevermind that. And once again, they'd think it was hysterical because I said the funniest word to ever exist, TO THEM, in all of history. Yes, the word BUTT. Meanwhile, my neighbors assumed someone DESPICABLE (ME, of course) moved in next-door. I saw them once since we first moved here back in July and even tried saying hello. I walked over to introduce myself as they swiftly scrambled their way inside their home. One word. AWKWARD.

So then I chose to go with the times, printed out the infamous Reward Chart and stuck it on our refrigerator door. They needed to gain five stickers a day during the week in order to get a prize on a Friday. It worked for a while, but then I realized giving them a reward every week was doing them more harm than good. Not to mention, it was becoming a costly operation, as they became reliant on prizes for EVERY FREAKING thing they miraculously achieved without a fight. "Okay, Mom, I'll brush my teeth, if you give me a sticker." "Sure, I'll wipe my OWN BUTT... hehe... if you give me a sticker."  "Oki Doki...You say bath. I say PRIZE!"

If you're wondering about timeouts, it faded away a long time ago as it became a challenge especially in the mornings when I needed to get them to school on time. I began to lose hope and knew that something needed to work AND SOON. I was fighting a losing battle and didn't know where else to turn. I was running out of techniques! I hated to spank. I hated to shout. I hated timeouts. I bet you're asking yourself why is it that I even had kids in the first place? How can I not know what it involves, and why was I so blind? The truth is I knew it would require sacrifices and patience, and PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE. I have a heart of a lion and the soul of an elephant, if life did not come with challenges then what is living?

So what approach have I chosen for mine? It changes from time to time, to be honest. I use whatever course of action that feels right at that moment. Of course, I'd fall but I will not succumb. It's an understanding between human beings. Children are no different. They want to please their parents. They want to learn and understand the reasoning behind the cause. They want to become independent and respected just like we do; it's that simple. Why can't I play Catch-Me-If-You-Can before school starts? And yes, you have to spell it out for them. B-e-c-a-u-s-e  i-f  y-o-u  a-r-e  t-a-r-d-y  a-t  s-c-h-o-o-l,  y-o-u  w-o-n'-t  h-a-v-e  r-e-c-e-s-s. In other words; If you break the law you'll go to jail! And if you want to be a big boy then you must act responsibly to become one. (Tip: Have these conversations when they're inside the vehicle and strapped in, when there's no other choice for them but to listen.)

I told myself; there are no rules set in stone, I'd set them as it became fit. But there IS one rule set in stone. Communication. Make that two. And Don't disturb mommy when she's having her cup of Joe in the mornings. Make that three. Also WINE in the evenings. I converse with them about everything that should matter to them in the world, about what society is like and how difficult it can be to fit in if you don't act responsibly. I continue to teach them about consequences and the theoretical theory of cause and effect. I teach them to have consideration, and understanding one another.

As for a reward, I praise them for good behavior with lots of hugs and kisses. I also like to keep it childish sometimes, stoop to their level and just have PLAIN OL' FUN! By me showing interest in their interests, I'm showing them respect for their wants and needs conversely. That playing is okay at appropriate times and not before school starts!

So go ahead! Be a kid-at-heart and let loose now and then.

Now please excuse me while I put on my NERF gear and show them who's the BIG fish around here...

KEEP CALM 
AND
JUST SMILE