The best thing about me: Random acts of kindness

I have training as a ninja. Well, not really. If we were to boil it all down, it would be more like really good espionage. It is a skill I am truly proud of too. There is no surprise too hard to handle! I have pulled off missions whose recipients are 'across the pond', and some clear across this country. It makes me feel good.

It all started with an obsession. The dark Goth/fashionista (strange combo to be sure) wanted something awesome to put on the girls bums when diapering. It gets extremely tiring to be changing the same boring cloth diaper, white in color, day in and out! Blah! I need color and excitement in my life. Thank YOU, Gen-Y Diapers! Their cloth diaper covers come in all prints, and are like Pringles; you really can't have just one! Due to my obsession, I joined their chat group(more like a group of enablers) to chat about diapers, babies, and sometimes life with other Mamas who were as obsessed with these covers as I was. Dangerous for the addiction angle of all this..oh yeah!

While chatting with these Mamas, I made fast friendships all over the world! I can now boast friendships all over the UK and all over the US. Yes, I am special! But, it also let me in their lives. Their everyday challenges, ups and downs, and of course, all the nice pretty things they coveted. This led me to think about how I could 'reward' Mamas who were taking time to be wonderful to others. My covert 'ninja missions' were born.

I would scour the chat for evidence of kindness, and immediately, jot the name on a list, along with what diaper cover they were most looking forward to owning one day. Needless to say, I was not the only one thinking this, and quite a few other Mamas(the original 7; grew to 12 rapidly) began to send diaper covers with little gifts to make the recipient one happy gal.

Oh yes, it got expensive very fast, but I found that what I was looking for was the feeling that something I worked hard on(trust me, the covers are practically collectibles and can be hard to find) would be enjoyed by someone else. Bonus: the Mama wouldn't know I was sending it, so finding her address was also hard work. I enjoyed the chase! The chase for information on the Mama, of course, and also the fun that here I was chatting with her everyday, and she didn't have a clue what was on its way to her. It was always amazing to find a thank you message in my inbox and a picture of the gift. While I don't do it as often now, I still love to hit someone with some ninja love when I can.

Recently, I was asked by a friend to write about what I thought the best thing about me was. I think I racked my brain for ideas, nixed quite a few, and finally I thought about my 'ninja gifting missions'. Huh. There might be something to that! I love doing a random act of kindness a day, simply because I liken it to a virus: once it is caught, it propagates very very quickly! It makes me happy, that through some small token, I can bring happiness into the daily life of someone else. I like helping others. THIS is the best thing about me. Well, one of them, anyway.

There's a lot more that defines me, to be sure, I really am like an onion. But, there is nothing like seeing the smile on someone's face when something you did, changed the course of their day or week. It is wonderful to know, that in spite of all the craziness in our lives, someone out there cares for you and thinks you are important enough to gift you with their hard work, time, and love. My hope is that by doing these things, silly as they may seem, I can teach my spawn about the importance of helping others. That even though we run as a family pack, we belong to a much bigger pack that we must take care of, as well. By planting one seed of kindness within this bigger pack, we have changed the dynamic in caring only for the self, into one where we think of others first. It is an important quality that must be cultivated, taken care of, and developed.

As for me, the random acts of kindness aren't limited to cloth diaper groups. Or even to other Mamas. I try to do as many nice things in my day as I can; to go that extra mile. You never know when a little something you do: a sign, a smile, a kind word, a letter, a song, a care package, or yes, even a diaper will help someone in need. Always. I am firm believer in that!  

Mama and the Jabberwocky

Here's a conversation that I overheard on the monitor:

"I am not afraid of the Jabberwocky. Mama is MUCH more scarier than that."

I laughed out loud when I heard it! You never know how much a child retains from all you expose them to until they make such an interesting comparison. Yes, I have read the poem to the girls and yes they know exactly what it is. Why was this comment made? You see, I had just asked the Pixy to help clean up because the Banshee's bedroom looked like a horrid war scene. There were dolls everywhere, My Little Ponies strewn about like casualties, a princess castle looked like it had been stormed by a rabid group of Vikings--it was bad! I want to say that I laughed and that was that..but it made me stop to think.

It is no secret that as a Puerto Rican woman, I hold fire in my belly and use it as I need to. It's a great skill and I believe there should be an Xmen heroine that uses it. But, because of this quick temper, I really do try to be careful about exploding on anyone and it can be easily misunderstood for some other emotion. Those who know me well, always say that I carry this sort of intensity about me in everything that I do. As if I am busy taking in absolutely everything, internalizing the good things, and slowly burning up at the bad out there. That's fine. I am perfectly ok with that. The fact that my children think the Jabberwocky, a dragon-monster-nightmarish-nasty thing, is just a pet lizard and I am scarier than that, kind of bothers me. Who knew? She has feelings!

That being said, while I am patient with my children (and animals), I do expect certain behavior from everyone. Sure, we can have fun and play, but Mama's word is law and it must be done. No matter what. I expect them to treat others with kindness but suffer no fools. I expect them to want to learn new things every day. I expect them to put good things forth into the world, so that they may receive good things in return. Simple. Discipline(without harshness) is something that honestly comes naturally to me, as I was a teacher and I worked with children living with autism. Being proactive and getting things done is a must here, otherwise we run the risk of not getting a thing done. Life really is that hectic here, as the Sailor's schedule is anything but. In actuality, we live a crazy fun life, with lots of music, laughter, and mischief. So, it certainly surprised me when I got a report from the Pixy's teacher that she had misbehaved at school and called the teacher "selfish".

The incident? Well, Pixy needed to use the restroom and the teacher asked her to wait while another student finished up in there. Pixy exploded. Part of me was proud that she's a spitfire and is not afraid of saying what's on her mind, but I also couldn't help but feel sad that this was happening to her. It is my belief that she is acting out because the Sailor is not home and we are under what is lovingly referred to (note the dripping sarcasm dripping off the page) as "the adjustment period." Oh yes, that lovely period when the kids, the animals, and the Mama all try to make sense out of one of their pack members just up and leaving. Sigh! On a trip across the country. To play music for adoring crowds. Oh, and did I mention they are stopping in Disney? Groannnnnn....

Naturally, I had a good conversation with my daughter about respect and how we must always respect others, because it means that the person in question is important to you somehow. She looked at me, sheepishly, and asked what I thought the best course of action was. I turned the tables back on her, mainly because I believe that life is a huge teachable moment: "What would you do?"She said she would first apologize to her teacher, take away some of her toys, and turn things around. I thought that was a good idea and it was put into effect immediately with great results. I also was able to get the Sailor to talk to her via FaceTime and soothe her worry at his not being at home. I think that was the icing on that cake. Things, thankfully, took a turn for the better after that. 

Now, I am a tough cookie. Life throws punches at me and I am the type that says: "that all you got?" Very much a la Anita Blake. But, that was probably one of the hardest conversations I have ever had to "watch". Pixy was extremely down about the Sailor not being here. She was angry about it all and she confessed that she was taking it out on the wrong people. She also mentioned that she didn't like all the things that were going on with the Banshee and that she was sad she couldn't "protect her". (Banshee is currently being evaluated by doctors on her awesomeness level) It was heartbreaking. I think I took this all to heart and somehow turned it into failure. I felt like I failed my children. (They smell fear, though, so I had to put up a front) Talk about a weird feeling. Here I thought life was dandy. So, needless to say,  I was probably a bit tender when the Jabberwocky comment was made in brutal honest fashion, as children are wont to do. 

Truth is, life will be different for us without the Sailor being around for a bit. It will definitely be harder on the girls now, as they are more aware of their environment. However hard this may be, I am resolved to make this whole odd time called Tour, as easy on them as possible. We don't have much help, due to many factors, but we will tough it out together and make this look easy. I will try my best to not sweat the small stuff and put enough good energy out there to make these girls feel safe and happy (and stable). I want them to continue to be the happy little monsters that they always are. 

Now, as for the Jabberwocky thing. Well, I think I shook it off , laughed about it, and moved on. After all, what did I expect out of children who think zombies are fun playthings? Can't help but laugh at that!! I guess what I internalized from this is that even Mama Wolves have their little moments. What happens after that, well...that's what truly makes us leader of our pack or a spectator on the sidelines. N'est pas? 

On writing, or blogging as it were...

It had been 10 years since I could write. I had a massive writer's block episode and I couldn't break out of it. Writing prompts, doodling upside down, drinking absinthe...nothing worked. No, I won't tell you where but yes, you can still get it, illegal though it is. The Green Fairy helped quite a lot of writers back in the day, why couldn't it help me? Sigh. I went from writing daily in university, helping others brainstorm ideas,  and winning awards for my writing to doing nothing. Nada. The imagination machine simply ceased to work.

It was probably one of my darkest periods because it is the one thing I really wanted to do. To write. I loved grabbing my pen, or turning on the laptop and just letting it flow..whatever came out. It just wasn't happening. It was like the drive, the excitement of creating something had just dried up. During this time, one good friend(who sat next to me in all those writing classes, incidentally) kept encouraging me to write. Not to worry about anything, just try. With his encouragement, I did. Didn't get very far, but the effort was there on the page. Maybe this would go away and I could get a move on with things. Yeah, right!

Time went on and soon enough, 10 years had passed by. I still hadn't really broken out of it but this friend kept at me. He encouraged me to write, mentioned that one of our professors wrote his own book, and was just there always providing me with the fodder for creation. He is an amazing friend, to say the least.

 I don't know what did it. What turned the imagination machine back on? Maybe it was his stubborn encouragement, maybe the stars aligned in the just the right way, or maybe I finally had gotten over the need to create in order to please others and just please myself. I am not sure, but I finally decided that instead of writing a book , a story, poetry, I would write a blog. Weird leap, I know. Purists would say it is not even real writing. To me, after not doing it for a while, it is probably the best way to jump in with both feet and just do it. To write for the sake of enjoying writing and not to please those around me. Not for a grade, not because I was told this is a subject you NEED to write about....just for me.

I am writing almost every other day. Sometimes more than that, sometimes less than that. But, I AM WRITING. It is a release from a prison of my own making and can I just tell you how wonderful it feels? It is like a huge weight has fallen off my shoulders, because I am now comfortable enough to allow the ideas to flow.

I am hopeful that I keep it up. That nothing stops this new creative process, but what I most hope to gain out of this whole experience, is that I am doing something I love. I am writing this for posterity and also writing it for my friend. Because he believed in my skill more than I did. It's nice when someone believes in you like that, it keeps your light from dying out.

As I am writing this, in freestyle as it were, or a madcap diary entry of some sort, I can't help but thinking of Anne Shirley and her conversation with Gilbert Blythe. In that conversation, he told her to write what she knew about because there would always be plenty of people that would read her stories. Anne Shirley scoffed at him but when she had matured enough to heed his advice, she wrote and wrote about the things she knew about. She used her life as the starting point and went on from there to create a novel. A good one too!

I am hoping that I have now matured, like Anne, have the courage to write what I know about, and enjoy it. So that one day, my friend, Gilbert Blythe, can read it.

"Hey, are you from Baltimore?"

It was cold and quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you look around for shadows where there aren't supposed to be any. Then out of the quiet stillness came this: "Hey, are you from Baltimore?!" "Well, yeah and you're not," I answered as I ushered my little pack away. Score one for me!HA! The voice had come from a group of drunk guys, obviously celebrating SOMEthing.  They thought that I was extremely funny, and the Sailor just shook his head at me, smirking because he knew I couldn't leave it alone.

It isn't usually this quiet in Baltimore at ANY time(even with the screaming drunk guy), except that the Ravens were playing and it was 6:30pm on Sunday. The city was dead, which made me a little sad. Baltimore always offers some kind of pulse, even in the oddest of conditions. Suck it up, lady! Let's have fun anyway!

 I had won my spawn a couple of passes to the National Aquarium from the Pathfinders for Autism society. The night promised to be relaxing, as the Aquarium was closed down to the general public and only open to pass holders. They also made it more sensory-friendly, so the lights were turned down a bit and the music was turned off. The girls were extremely excited. In fact, so excited that they were skipping down Pratt Street in anticipation. It was rubbing off on me.

It wasn't that long ago that I would zip out of my university and come to this same place to sit in front of the dolphin tank to think. You see, every Friday you can stay in late if you get in by a certain time and boy would I milk it.I think most of my papers were written in front of the observation windows to the dolphin tank. While most college kids were closing down bars, I was closing down the Aquarium.  On Fridays, anyway.

We made it into the main entrance, after our encounter with the drunk kids on the street, took our coats off and went to touring the Aquarium. The Sailor was a bit excited too. It had been years since our last date there and the place "has changed quite a bit!" There was some construction going on, so the sting ray exhibit was closed off, but other than that...it looked the same, smelled the same, and the walls felt the same. Talk about a sensory experience!

Lots of families with children with special needs and children living with autism were present, which was nice since the night was so they could all enjoy the place without the crowds. In reality, it was quite loud and busy. I looked at my Banshee for the tell-tale signs that she was uncomfortable(she can't do crowds, at all) and to my surprise..she was ok. She pulled on my hand and said, "Mama, it's ok. Let's go."
 And go we did. We jumped on the escalator(Woohoo! You rock on escalators girls!) and managed to wade through all the exhibits(Sorry! Your butt was in the way), pouted when we saw that the Rainforest and the Dolphin show were closed(Why would they close the bestest parts?), and were excited to see all the awesome jellyfish floating about like spacecraft(Dude, those are SO aliens). She took turns looking at things, laughed when she saw the real-life Nemo and Dory, and "concetrated" (concentrated in Banshee-speak) when asked to find the tarantula in a certain exhibit. Even Pixy got in on the fun! We made a bet that whoever found the snake first, who was expertly camouflaged in a branch by the way, got the honor of buying everyone a snack. Pixy won! SCORE! We all had a good laugh and soon enough, two hours had passed and it was time to go. The Sailor had to work extremely early the next day and we wanted out of Baltimore before the bars let out. Gotta head home, chicas!

We made our way out of the Aquarium with lots of lamenting, because "we really want to stay with our dolphin friends, Mama" and "Daddy said we can hang out in Australia with the crocodiles"(I am SURE he did, girls), back out to the quiet streets. We walked in front of the Hard Rock cafe, behind Pier V, all in quiet observation of the night. "Can you hear what it's trying to tell you?", I asked the girls, "besides that the Ravens rule." I looked at both of them pointedly, which gave us all the giggles.

I am sure it was then that we all felt it. The city was welcoming us there. It was happy that we appreciated it. It's pulse or city-melody was intoxicating: the lights on the buildings like glitter, the drunken songs drifting on the breeze, the sounds of water hitting the pier, the smell of the sea heavy in the air, and the feel of comfort and safety all around us. It assaulted all our senses, which was ironic as we had just left a venue that was supposed to be "sensory friendly", and there it was...the nameless feeling that I always looked for in my youth and always found in Baltimore: the feeling of home and belonging somewhere. We belonged there. The city was ours and it was wonderful. She makes no apologies for who she is. In your face, friendly, full of shadows and light, happiness and sadness too. She is history made and history being made. She is Baltimore. Whoa!

On the drive back home, I kept thinking about the reason why I answered the drunken guy that way...besides me being a smart-ass, I mean. Maybe I read him too well and could tell he wasn't all there(he WAS drunk), maybe it was the regional US accent(he said BALTimore, not Bawl-mer), maybe it was the way he was dressed(like Zack Morris), or maybe it was just plain obvious that he didn't know where the hell he was or where the hell he was going...but I was certain of this: I knew where I was, what I was doing, where I was headed, and who I was going with. It felt good.

So, if I could have a rewind of that moment, please maestro!
"Hey, are you from Baltimore?", asked the drunken guy in an overly loud tone, while he weaved in between two other drunken guys.
"Well, yeah and you're not," answered the no-nonsense city she-wolf, as she ushered her littles and her mate to their destination, without a glance back...

Yup, it still seems like the right answer to me!

Letter to my 15yr old self

Hi Lisa!

You might not know me now, but you will know me later on in life. See, my name is Lisa, and to put this simply, I'm you. You see, I'm sitting in a dark dining room of a house you will know in the future  and I thought to myself there are some things I think you should know. I'm not sure the why of it all,  but maybe that will become more evident in this missive.

I want to begin by telling you a story. There once was a forest, and in this dark place, lived a she-wolf with her pups. She was a strong thing, always kind to her pack, loving with her pups, and free. Free to go wherever she pleased. By her side, after dealing with more line wolves than she'd care to admit(thank ya very much), there stood a wonderful male wolf. He was kind, bold, daring, and a bit of a jokester. Even though the she-wolf was strong, she was faltering. You see, she'd lost two pups through no fault of her own, members of her pack had left her, and she found herself not as free as she used to be. She would go through the motions doing wolfy things, but she had lost her way. That is a bad thing for an Alpha. It means that the rest of the pack is confused, unsure about what to do because their leader isn't there. When one falters, they all falter together. Well, in one of her usual trips for food and such, this she-wolf saw a ray of sunshine. She decided she would chase it and eat it, because that's what wolves do. She never stopped to think that it might be to replace the light in herself, because she'd become as dark as the forest. She chased it, tumbled a few times, and she thought she ate it. Well, the truth is, she didn't eat it. How can you eat a sunbeam? But, a funny thing happened to this she-wolf. She regained her strength, she walked in beauty, and for once felt she was at peace. When asked by her pack what changed, she'd mention the day she ate a sunbeam and it changed things for the better. The pack would smile and were happy for her, but they wondered what was up. Then, something happened to one of her pups; she wasn't as happy as her other pup, something was wrong. The she-wolf faltered and was angry because the sunbeam she ate must have gone out. She was so angry at the forest, at her pack, at the world, that she went out looking for a new sunbeam. She didn't find it and became angrier still. So she ran until she couldn't run anymore to get this anger out. When she stopped to catch her breath, there in front if her was a little meadow surrou ded by new trees, new flowers, and all throughout there were sunbeams! She didn't believe her luck and attempted to eat every single one of those sunbeams. Suddenly, after trying to eat the sunbeams for what must have been hours, she stopped. She looked around her and thought how silly she must look doing this thing. Seriously?! Sunbeams?! She thought, meditated, and tried to figure out why she felt so happy when she ate the first sunbeam. Did she eat it? She wasn't sure anymore but she knew that she felt happy, carefree, like her old self after that. Maybe that's what made her feel better! That she paused long enough to be impulsive and do something just to see where it went....like she used to before she had terrible times. Well, she trudged home, thinking all the way and she told the pack about her journey. That's what it was, a journey! She told them how she felt, how she was feeling, and that she wanted badly for things to change for the better. The pack felt her strength returning and so they were happy. It was almost like there was a chain connecting all of them and they were all themselves again. The she-wolf didn't know what was ahead of her, but she knew that as long as she remembered her sunbeam journey, she would be all right. She'd never let herself go back to that dark place in the forest again, she'd walk in sunlight and beauty wherever she went.

Do you understand the story, Lisa? That she-wolf in the forest? She's you. You as a young girl, as a young mother, as a young woman...she is you. I want you to know that there will be times that you will find yourself in that deep, dark part of the forest. You will feel lost, confused, and weak. I cannot promise that you will find that meadow of sunbeams right away, but I never want you to stop looking for it. You are not alone. You will have a great partner who will love you above all things, you will have two children here with you, and two you have lost. You will surround yourself with your own pack. And all will be as it was meant to...in its own time.