Made for Mucho Más

Music has always been a constant background in my life. I like to say that if life was a musical- then I have a series  of soundtracks that would probably require some sort of explanation as to why they made it to my list. My heart has equally exploded with songs by Selena, Backstreet Boys, hymns and contemporary  worship music... to me- music is music and there is some sort of sacredness in all of it, especially when those songs can speak directly to your heart or if they connect you to a memory that can instantly change your mood. Arely and Clelis, circa 2008 When I was at PanAm,during my high school years, Elefante came out with a song : Asi es la vida . Try to listen to it once and you would want to put it on repeat and dance to the catchy tune (which is what Troy and I just did last night). The funny story behind this song is that it  caused the only (ever!) disagreement my lifelong best friend, Arely, and I had in our lives. It was so bad we didn’t talk to ...

My French Press is broken. Troy accidentally broke it while trying to wash it in the kitchen sink. I heard the shattering noise and quickly ran to him as I examined what had happened - “This is why I didn’t want to help you!” -he yelled with a defensive tone. It made me mad that my coffee press was broken, I could’ve yelled back... but instead something different happened. I said- “ I am sorry, I should’ve helped you.” And his face changed from defensive to vulnerable. He immediately fell into my arms and started sobbing: “I am so sorry, mami! I didn’t want to break your coffee pot, I ruined it. I am so sorry.”  My heart broke and I immediately decided I didn’t care about the French press anymore.... I responded with: “ you are way more important than a coffee press, Troy. I can get another one. It was an accident and it’s all okay.” We sat on the kitchen floor and hugged for a while. He couldn’t stop crying. He truly felt bad. And I did too. I felt bad because there have be...

Troy forgot his breakfast today. I so want to go to his school and bring it to him. But I won’t. Still, I can barely concentrate thinking of my baby being hungry. I am so grateful his lunch break is at 9:50am. He will be okay. But... ahhh I am struggling. My confession is that I want to rescue him... almost every day... when he lost his homework. When he got a sad face in his calendar. When he doesn’t want to wear his tie. W hen he told me some boys in the lunch room told him his food look “yucky.” Ahhh I am struggling. But the thing is, I know the teacher side too. I know his teacher wants him to learn to be responsible on his own. I know his teacher wants him to succeed and learn without his mother doing the work for him. I know his teacher will handle the mean boys in the cafeteria. I just need to trust that this is a team effort. But.... ahhh I am struggling. Being on the parent side is way harder than I thought. Being on the parent side with teacher knowledge is way hard...

Doors are the threshold we use to either enter or exit. Doors mark the boundaries of here and there, inside or outside... the point where something begins or ends. Doors are in place for protection, they give us a sense of security. If doors are open, you can freely come in, you are probably welcomed. But, do not dare to open a closed door... The last couple of months I've been encountering doors everywhere I go. I've had to cross plenty of new doors- a new house, a new church, a new school, a new grocery store, a  new coffee shop... you get the idea. It takes courage to walk through a new door.  Who knows what you will find on the other side? What if I don't like it? But the hardest question of all is... What if I am not welcomed? I have been noticing signs next to these doors... "Everyone is welcome," "We are an inclusive church," "So glad you are here," "This is a safe place," "We love to have you here,...