Watch Out, North Carolina! Um, Again, Sort Of...

Flying by the seat of my pants is something I tend to do well. I thank my gypsy mother for preparing me with the go! Go! GO! of my childhood and her sage words like; "If you don't bend with the wind, you're gonna lose some fruit." or something far more poignant.

So while in Walmart, when I received the email from Ana Roca Castro of Latism.org and thusly the #LATISM {Latinos in Social Media} movement telling me I was next in line for the Type A Conference Scholarship that could not be used by the person before me, two days before the conference was to begin - I knew I'd accept, thank her profusely and make it work. 

I emailed her back as soon as I could get over the shock of what I was reading.

There was suspense in the Walmart parking lot;

The battery icon on my Droid was flashing red *blink, blink, blink* faster and faster as I input each letter, not leaving Swype responsible for any typos I'd have to instantly fix. 

*blink, blink, blink, blink*

As I quickly scanned the letter for overzealousness, and improper grammar; was everything correct? Email addresses? Did I spell my name right?

*blinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblink*

*sending..........*

*blinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblink*

*pop up: Please connect your charger*

*sent*

*bliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiink*

*powering off*

HOLY CRAP, did it send? It said it did! Oh, I guess I should help my husband get these Minions in the car. GAH, who gave birth to these things!?

I squeed the whole way home, but tried to do so quietly as the pessimist in me struck all my pros with cons;

Type A Con!

What does the scholarship cover? A flight this last minute will cost arms, legs and likely - buttocks.

Uhh… Type A Con!

How are you going to get around? You can't rent a car since you can't drive.

Shut UP, Type. A. Con!

And what about Bebie? What are you going to do? Nurse him in between keynotes? Ha!

But... But... Type A Con?

Yeeeah. You should politely decline, give someone more organized and less frantic the opportunity.

Yeah. You're right. Okay. I'll do that.

I geared up for disappointment, until we turned into the driveway and with a surge of renewed hope I remembered seeing her phone number. I’d just call and get all of the details!

And I did. Though at the time she was on her way to a dinner, she assured me we’d get the details together and to email her a little information for flight stuff. I thanked her, hung up, ran outside and did a very embarrassing dance.

I am still awaiting details, there are some little black rain clouds of doubt, but I'm distracting myself by putting together and handwriting, a color coded Type A itinerary.

As far as right now goes, Severus Danger and I are heading to Type A Conference in Asheville, North Carolina!

EEEK!

On Father's Day; How We Don't 'Celebrate' & A Letter To My Husband

As many people already know, Christian and I are not the "holiday type".

We find very little fun in some {Thanksgiving}, we don't have any reason to celebrate others {Easter} and so many are overblown and simply nonsensical. We consider Mother's and Father's Days to be amongst the latter...

Now, before you get your panties in a wad and tell me I'm ruining the magic for my poor children, I have compiled a list of reasons why, and will share them with you now;

1: We're lazy. We HAVE a calendar, we don't LOOK at it. So we're never sure when these holidays fall until someone {usually my mother} calls us the day before and says; "Hey! What are you doing for Father's Day tomorrow?" and I'm forced to reply with "Father's Day is tomorrow? Umm..... nothing."

Because seriously, why the fuck would we do anything on a SUNDAY?

2: Obligation blows. We prefer to do things because we want to do them, not because a day {or my mother} tells us we have to. Thank our contrary natures for this.   

3: We are procrastinators. We don't need another reason to put off expressing our appreciation for one another, doing something special or buying a thoughtful gift. I remember once, before Mercutio was born, saying "Well, Father's day is coming up, so... whatever, we'll just go out to dinner then." and even then, we didn't because he had to suddenly work. We missed an opportunity.

We're too busy, and we know very well that we'd use these days as an excuse, so we're forced instead, to take advantage of the time - every moment that we can, to do something special with one another, or as a family. 

4: Spontaneity rules this roost {mostly because we can't stick to a schedule to save our lives}. Some mornings I wake up, look over at my husband and just tell him how much I love him, when I'm reading to our children - he tells me how much he loves the mother that I am. Occasionally I'll find a Hot Wheel that looks cool, or one he was looking for and I'll pick it up for him {there's a long story behind the Hot Wheels}, or he'll see some random Hello Kitty thing he'll know I'll love.

It means more to us when it's unexpected, when there's no day {or my mother} behind it.

5: A day is not enough time. We both understand wholly how hard the job of raising children can be, and we're a team; We both miss Samara every day. We both deal with Caesar's tantrums every day. We both deal with Mercutio's defiance every day. And we both change poopy diapers every day.

This is not something we take for granted and every moment we feel it, we tell the other how invaluable they are to this parental faction. Squeeze all the adoration for all that my husband does for and with our Minions? For me? In 24 hours? HA! Impossible.

6: We can't outdo the gifts we've already given each other. Really, what's better than a delightful and creative mixing of DNA? We both agree that there is no greater gift than our children and everything else pales in comparison; We wanted to be parents for so long, and now we are eternally grateful to have the brood that we do.

I don't ever want to be that person who gripes about what I didn't get for Mother's Day. My Minions are my jewels, and diamonds don't hold a candle to their brilliance. What more do I need?

We acknowledge the holiday that is today, we give it a slight nod and a "Good morning." but we don't go balls out; breakfast at Denny's, fanciful gifts of plastic digital watches or handmade coupons for one night of "Good Mommy Lovin'".

Maybe we're missing something, but we never truly understood the importance of celebrating these holidays, and it was only after becoming parents {and semi adults} ourselves that we realized we didn't have to.

Maybe I am just sickeningly lucky to have someone who shares in my laziness and lack of enthusiasm for lesser holidays.

Maybe our perspective {not unlikely} is just totally screwed up.

Either way, I'm not fazed. At least for now - this works for us.

Feeling loved, respected, wanted and appreciated every day keeps us levelled so we're not clamoring for that attention. And with all the bumps in our road, I know we're both grateful to have one less hurdle to clear.

But, since I'm here already; 

Christian -- Our children are so incredibly lucky to have you as their father. You sacrifice for them, they know without a doubt that you love them, you are always there for them and you make them stronger with your big manly cuddles and goofy story readings.  

I asked our sons if they thought they had the bestest Daddy in the world and they said:

"Yeah! My Daddy helps me with my video game and tells me about Wolverine. I wanted my name to be Wolverine, but Daddy said that was too bad."

"Yeeeeah. He's silly!"

"Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba.... raaaaaaawr."

{I'll let you guess which Minion said what.}

When asked if there was anything special they wanted to tell you, they said:

"Uh huh! I love you Daddy! Next time can you name me Wolverine?"

"No! Can I have a snack?"

"Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba.... raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawr."

You're so much more than just their father, you are their superhero. 

We love you with great intensity. Happy Father's Day, my love.

Caesar's First Haircut...

I can't remember all the reasons why we decided never to cut the Minions' hair. {Though, ultimately we had no say with Samara.}

But I can remember the moment we made the decision; We were 18, when Christian turned to me one day and said "When we have kids, I don't want to cut their hair until they can make that choice for themselves. Including the boys."

And I nodded, more taken aback by the "When we have kids..." part, I would have agreed to just about anything.

He had cut his own mid-back length hair the year before {I'd just missed it, still in Hawaii} and he appreciated being able to make his own decisions pertaining to growing it out and cutting it off, not allowing anyone to influence when they told him what they thought he should do.

It was contrary to the norm and it suited him. Period. 

When Caesar was born we marveled over his head full of hair and hoped he wouldn't be tender headed, as we were spoiled by the awesomeness and ease of Samara.

But of course, he was. 

As of recent, the stress of chasing him around with a hairbrush became too much for Christian and I {mostly I, since Caesar preferred I did his hair}. 

We three decided it was time. 

At almost 5 years old, Caesar would get his first haircut.

And yesterday, he did.

While he didn't necessarily "agree", he did understand that his unruly curls needed a trim. Still. We all agonized.

His curls are so tight, his hair looks shorter, but it is truly to his behind.Not knowing how he'd react, but knowing our son's nature, we finally opted to let my mom do the honors.We, naturally, decided to keep his braid.Blissfully unaware...After we showed him his braid, he took some time to cry as my mom evened him out.But hugs from Daddy {and a shiny 2009 penny} made it a little better.We'll still battle the constant "She's so beautiful!" comments, cutting only about 7 inches, but Caesar still looks like Caesar.

I'm confident that my son is not completely traumatized as he promptly zoomed around the backyard with his aunt and cousin.  

Christian and I are still sad pandas, even though the change is not a huge one, we didn't come to this decision lightly, especially knowing that Caesar wasn't completely on board as we'd always hoped and that was rough in itself.

Moreso, we're saddened by the realization that our first baby boy has truly grown, he explained why he didn't want his hair cut, and then accepted the reasons why we he needed one, as calmly as an over emotional 4 year old could. 

We're outrageously proud of him.