Thanks, Dad. For being more than mom’s lover

Today as I was surfing the net I found something very weird. It was not a surprise. The surprise would be not to find something weird while looking around in the internet. But this was awkward beyond weird. It made me think. And as I don’t talk that much, I like to think a lot.

Hey, don’t come again with that argument that 1 year old kids can’t surf the net. Of course I can. And I do. And if you don’t believe just do the following exercise.

1. Seat a one year old infant on your lap. Did you do it? Ok.

2. Pull yourself close to a table where there’s a laptop. You don’t even have to turn it on. I bet the baby is already reaching for the keyboard and tapping it like it was the best thing ever. Right?

The reason it happens his because we (babies) want so much to be able to find all those exciting things you adults keep looking at. And usually you don’t allow us.

Ok, now you did the exercise, take your time to clean up the mess the kids made on your laptop and than come again to see what I was talking about.

Are you back? Good.

Just look at this

See? What do you think? It’s always good to read in the same sentence the words father, mother, daughter and love. It’s beautiful, right?

Not quite so! It’s is sooooooo limiting of the role of the fathers. And so diminishing of the mothers. Not to talk about the daughter herself!

If all my father did was loving my mother he wouldn’t be my father. He’d be her consort. On the other hand, this quote implies that moms just need to be loved by dads, and that’s all the caregiving (or at least the most important, according to the quote) dads have to do in the family.

And the daughters? Am I not entitled to something more than seeing my father nudge and fondle my mother?

Not to talk about the single-parent families. I guess they don’t even come into the equation when you’re thinking about something like this.

Well, I’m sure that’s not the intention of all those sharing this “beautiful” piece of art… but there’s where it ends.

Well, what do I know, right? I’m just a baby…

This is the end of the World as we know it…

My mouth aches! And it aches a lot…

But mom and dad don’t seem to understand. So I took some more drastic measures… I’ll explain everything.

Everything went just fine in my life. My days are quite the same everyday and that’s how I like them. I wake up early in the morning. Actually, I still want to sleep a little, but I wake up just to be able to listen the silence in my parents bedroom. I wait a little bit (sometimes I even laugh in anticipation) and then I just cry, as loud as I can, and I wake my parents! It’s so funny how they look when their sleepy…

Then my mother holds me and breastfeeds me. It’s sooooo gooooood!!! And I go back to sleep – got it? First you wake your parents. It can’t be too early otherwise they’ll go back to sleep. Make it half an hour to 45 minutes before their alarm sets off. It’s the best time for them to wake. Then you get back to sleep, like an angel.

By 9 or 10 am I wake again. By then I’m totally ready for my day. I play a little with my toys and then it’s time to eat again. During the playing hours (or should I say minutes…) I also take the time for that good poo. My mom changes my diaper and if I’m lucky I’ll just manage to put my foot (or both of them) inside the poo ! And that’s a party. Except for my mom that doesn’t seem to like it… go figure.

At noon it’s almost lunch and… well, you’re getting the picture: sleep, eat, play and poo. That’s my life. Until now.

Because from one day to the other, my mouth began to ache! I don’t know what’s going on with it. My gums itch and they hurt and… I don’t know, but it feels like I have to grab everything and put it in my mouth and rub it in my gums. And even then it won’t get better but it feels like you just have to do it. That’s why I cry so many times these days… and that’s why I sleep so badly at nights.

My parents weren’t getting it, so I took it in my hands (actually in my gums) to show them. So when I mother breastfed me yesterday I bit her nipple. She cried in horror and just said to my father: “Thank god she doesn’t have teeth yet!”

“Teeth! That’s it! That’s what’s going on.” Now I know. It isn’t better, but at least I know…

I’m Mia and I’m 6 months.. Thanks for being there…

The hug

Image

There is no better place to be than my mother’s arms.

It’s perfectly quiet when I want to rest.

It’s the high ground when I want to discover the world.

It’s Holy Ground to keep me safe from evil.

It’s paradise when there’s something to see anywhere around.

It’s the coziest of places when you need to be cuddled.

It’s the beautiful garden where you can dance and twirl around the colorful flowers.

It’s the place of soft and comfy fragrances that make you dream, as if scents of Spring are freed.

It’s the best of hugs… whenever, wherever… forever.

And so this is Christmas…

This is my first December. I was convinced this was a month just like all the others… but I was wrong!

The smells are different. The colors are more bright. There are lights in the streets forming special and beautiful shapes.

Adults act like children and children try to behave as adults in a last hope to get their favorite present from Santa Claus.

I don’t quite understand all this, but I sure do like it!

Serenity and Don Quixote…

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

Courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

I know, I know! I’m too young to have this kind of thoughts… Let’s say I’m advanced to my age ;-).

But I do understand this statement. And I feel there are not that many adults who understand it…

I think that if most people would stop to evaluate their conscience, they would come to the conclusion that most of the times they waste many time and effort fighting nonexistent windmills. In Cervantes’ book, Don Quixote is a funny and goofy character. His choices, most of the times, are not reasonable, whichever the lens chosen. And because of that, almost all the readers may like the character, may feel sympathetic with his moves, his sense of honor and the size of his heart, but… no one sees herself or himself as a Quixote… It seems so obvious that he is fighting imaginary enemies; it seems so obvious that his fights have no future; it seems so obvious that there’s no point on what he is doing… because it’s doomed to failure, it’s all going to flunk. And it all seems so obvious…

And that’s why it seems so strange to me that all those who, as Cervantes’ readers, would laugh at Quixote’s moves, are quixotic from time to time.

But… what do I know? I’m just a little baby…

(Image from http://flic.kr/p/8HSULF)