Beginnings. Week 2

The second half of the beginnings theme for Project 52. This time it's personal. Back in November I found this nifty little people typing thing that's related to how you dress. So the new photo off to the right? That's my after. The necklace on the book? That's my "type" of jewelry and yes it definitely fits me to a T despite my aversion to accessories for years. The page to which the book is open? Yes it's my type and if you know me in real life you'll chuckle at the inset quote.

My beginning though, was spurred on by the external makeover. I've done quite a bit of introspection since then, both related and unrelated which has peeled off a big 'ol bandaid. I'm hoping this is the year for healing old wounds as well as the beginning of a healed me.

NOT back in the saddle

Remember how I gushed in my last post that I was back? Yeah, for an ADD person that's like announcing on January 1st that you won't ever touch chocolate while PMSing, you'll put away your clothes immediately after the dryer stops or that you'll unload the dishwasher instead of pulling out one piece at a time until the thing needs to be reloaded. Yeah, my "woohoo! I'm back" was followed by a deafening silence that spanned weeks. Typical. So I'm now announcing that I'm NOT back in the saddle in true opposite day form. For that matter I'm getting soooooo much done around the house (not). And I'm definitely not wearing a snuggly baby in order to get stuff done around the house. Exhibit A:




Notice the super clean mirror (not) and my very cheerful face (I could work for the mob with that expression). For those of you seeking a more chipper version click here. I also did not have rice pudding for breakfast the other day. Super delicious, creamy and sweet Dominican style rice pudding using my mom's recipe. Nope, no I didn't and I also didn't lick the spoon clean because frankly what kind of manners are those?




So sometime soon I won't be posting some random stream of consciousness catch up posts. I'm so not back in the saddle. Really.

The birth and an update.

Wow, long break but so needed. My friends may already know this but I tend to become a bit of a recluse as I get near the end of a pregnancy. Then right after the birth Mr. Maricucu and I line up his time off and my mom's visit to make sure our family gets an extended babymoon. Nothing fancy, just a good amount of bedrest for me with the baby and time for the siblings to adjust to all the new hubbub in the household. Mr. Maricucu is now back to work and my mom is back in Florida. The first two weeks Mr. Maricucu carried the whole load on his shoulders. Caring for the kids, the house and then on top of that me (in bed remember?). By the time my mom showed up he was exhausted. Thankfully my mom stepped in to help and gave Mr. Maricucu and I the best gift a parent could ever get. Sleep. She would let the kids join her on the sofabed at whatever early hour they rose, then Mr. Maricucu and I would get to do something we haven't done in years - sleep in together. Even if she hadn't done dishes, cooked us some meals and did laundry (including putting it away - my nemesis) all of which she did, the sleeping in part alone was worth its weight in gold.

Abuela in action.




Now about the birth. I'm kind of a strange one. I'm not interested in recreating romantic detailed birth stories piece by piece. What's more, being the sarcastic cynic, what usually imprints in my memory is what goes wrong in a humorous sort of way. I remember most of the birth until transition and then after that it's all a blur/whirlwind which sometimes comes back a few months later. But I'm also not the type to journal, have babybooks or any other introspective tool besides my camera. I don't have my kids' measurements or developmental milestones written in chronological order somewhere to pull out later. It's either going to make me one amazing mother in law, "Oh I can't remember when his daddy walked but the baby is doing just fine", or a horrible one, "Hmmm, I remember his daddy walking at 6 months old. What do you mean kids don't walk at that age?" Before the horror sets in let me just say that I do mentally catalog sentimental and sweet memories of the kids - I'm not an entirely heartless momma after all.

So do you guys remember John Moschitta Jr. the World's Fastest Talker and better known as the micromachines commercials guy from the 80s? I'll do the birth story a la Moschitta which will give the birth junkies a detailed account and spare the I-don't-want-tmi crowd. Deep breath . . .

Friday before 4th of July weekend having some contractions, Saturday had some amniotic leaking, Sunday more contractions but then they petered out, Monday contractions on and off but nothing consistent, woke up 3am on Tuesday with more contractions but they stopped, off to bed, 7am my older daughter nursed then the contractions picked up and were more intense, called my doula she came to assist and use some tools to keep the contractions consistent, soon called my midwife during the first half of the day to come over and check on me, she did and predicted I'd be calling her over for the birth around 4-5pm, took a walk with my doula/friend, came back and ate an early dinner, bam right around 4pm and at the end of dinner had to stand up during contractions, called the midwife . . .

. . . deep breath

That leaves us here. Me in the birth tub thanking the Lord eternally for blessing us with hot water to soothe during contractions. From this moment to the next picture I can't even recall how much time passed. All I remember was hitting transition and puking (as is usual for me) then feeling very pushy. Once I hit transition I pretty much close my eyes and keep them closed until I've pushed the baby out.




Here we are. Having gone from intense contractions one moment to relief, euphoria and awe in another. Like her other siblings and despite the early leak baby's bag of waters was pretty strong. I'll have to confirm this with an attendant but I think she crowned still in the sac. A few moments after this picture and while we were still in the pool my other three kids each came over and gently touched her on the head all while cooing over her.




Being weighed by the midwife's assistant.




Mr. Maricucu doing what he does best. The thankless behind the scenes support work. Yeah he's a good egg.




Of course after baby and I were looked over each sibling had to take a turn holding "their baby".

Number 1, he's a veteran at this birth thing. This is the third sibling birth he's witnessed. He's blossomed into the designated baby soother, patting and shushing as she fusses while I change her diaper.




Number 2, snuggling and smiling at the baby sister that looks just like him as a newborn.




And number 3, who alternates between wanting to dress the baby up like a doll and looking at this suspicious creature who now forces her to take turn for nursies.




So here's the newest member of our family. I hope she doesn't mind growing up the youngest or at the very least that the chaos of three older siblings makes it interesting.








Oh and lest he feel forgotten a certain someone in our home turned the big 4-0. He's lucky I was incapacitated by a little syndrome called pregnancy-in-the-southern-summer otherwise there could have been a lot more devious planning on my part. One day . . .

It's either the kids or me.

We're freaking people out and I have a hunch it may be both. There I am in all my current sherpa mom glory with the camera armor fiercely in place. I purposely chose this angle because right now this belly is so obscenely protruding, people gasp a little when I turn and they see a side view instead of a front or back.

The kids and I were eating out the other day and as I was heading out of the restaurant with all three by my side, I noticed people were giving us some strange looks. Could be that it was the day I picked the only thing that was clean and fit (a long flowy skirt), fitted shirt and my favorite my-kid-sister-gave-them-to-me-sparkly-sandals leaving people wondering if labor was imminent, or the mini herd of children calling me momma. I'm not sure, but it was the first time I noticed people obviously staring at our family. Weird.

A couple of days later at the museum of art, yet more looks. Older folk looked slightly amused at the crew and me circling Rodin's sculptures, college students looked horrified at the audacity of taking children (you know, what they were mere minutes ago themselves) to such a cultured place. Never mind I caught at least a half dozen of them snapping their cameras away closely at some statue's nether regions. Then one museum staffer just about lost her marbles when one of mine asked aloud if he could step on the rug. Ummmm, no honey that's an ancient mosaic floor, not a rug. I could see her breathe a sigh of relief as the realization that I wasn't going to let my child trample on the artifact washed over her.

I'm finding it quite amusing to see people reacting to children being brought out you know, in public, as the quite lewd Ron White would say. Puzzles me to think of the alternative, but in the meantime we create a little public spectacle each time we go out on an outing. Hey you college students looking my way, feast your eyes sweeties. In a few years with a toss of the coin you could be just as lucky.

Later this week I will amaze you with my ability to finally post the strawberry shortcake recipe only about a month late. Yes, I rock.




P.S.: Just for a little perspective here's the same belly at around 20ish weeks. Now add another 6 inches straight in front of me and you've got a good idea of what I look like right now and why I don't even bother taking side shots anymore. I think the only reason my mother believes I've been pregnant four times is because she eventually gets to see a grandchild at the end but I'm just not big on photographing myself during pregnancy. There I said it, take me away belly shot police.

Vitamin C serum and a thank you

My younger sister and I shared a room from the day she was born until the day I got married. To say she knows me pretty well even though we've been living in separate states for 9 years is an understatement. Yesterday I received a package from her for my birthday filled with some wonderful surprises.

First these beautiful dressed up sandals. Drool worthy, very drool worthy. I'm a Florida girl at heart and much to my poor mother's dismay spent my first two North Carolina winters in denial that I shouldn't wear flip flops in coat weather. I'm a bit more level headed now and save the flip flop wearing for February at the earliest. These little beauties are perfect. A little flair under my feet and a little bling on top to dress them up.



She knows me oh so well. But that wasn't all. Included with a heartfelt note was fabric money! Yes, I was instructed to spend it on fabric and I must obey the orders of the gift giver. So I'll dutifully find some luscious fabric to spend it on soon. Thank you very much H. for the wonderful birthday surprise.

Appropriately themed with my aging is this do it yourself vitamin C serum. A couple of months ago I found this recipe on the web. I wanted to try it because I tend to scar up pretty easily with blemishes and I tend to get dark splotches on my skin from the sun. I've always had great luck using chemical exfoliants like BHA and AHA but really don't want to deal with the parabens and other not so great ingredients.

I ordered my ascorbic acid, but didn't have glycerin around so I made it with 2 teaspoons of water. I put it on that evening and the next morning while rinsing my face I noticed a difference right away. A glow, smoother tone of the skin. Pretty much the post-facial glow without the price tag. Sold. I fell off the bandwagon for a few weeks but today decided to mix up another weekly batch and this time I tried it with glycerin to see if there was any difference. Glycerin is a humectant and I was curious. I will say the glycerin is too much in the original quantity. Next time I'll only use about 1/4 teaspoon of glycerin and 1 3/4 teaspoon of water for the 1/4 teaspoon of ascorbic acid powder.

Now, just a few tips:

* Make sure you buy ascorbic acid powder without any additives. You should be able to find it online at supplement stores like Vitacost or locally at healthfood stores.

* The serum only lasts a week or so in the fridge. Really that's not an issue because once you try it, you'll want to slather it on your arms, the top of your hands, your chest, legs, etc. The fluid should be clear but if it turns yellowish or any other color, toss it and start a new batch as the vitamin C has oxidized.

* Be sure to follow common sense hygiene and use clean fingers, etc. so as not to cross contaminate the batch. I keep mine in a dark amber dropper bottle as vitamin C is sensitive to light. Again these bottles are available online or your local healthfood store.

* Apply the serum either at night or in the morning but apply it to bare skin and wait 30 minutes before applying any other product to allow the serum time to absorb and begin working. Adding another product before the 30 minutes would affect the PH of the serum and make it less potent.



First, mix the ascorbic acid with water. I noticed that the powder didn't dissolve as well with the glycerin so mixing it with the water first is best. Then add the glycerin. (I used a 1/8 teaspoon measuring spoon but did add 1/4 teaspoon total).



Pour into your clean bottle and proceed to slather on. Remember, store in the fridge and make a new batch each week. This is super cheap. The 8oz jar of ascorbic acid powder cost me all of $8 and at 1/4 teaspoon a week will last me quite a while. However, the most important point is that you'll always have a potent batch of vitamin C serum. Every other product on the market loses potency as it sits on the shelf and oxidizes. You end up paying $40+ for a pretty glass bottle of oxidized vitamin C that at best won't do anything for your skin and at worst might actually make things worse.



My mom and I are always sharing tips we've found for the home, beauty, health, etc. Since I've been tinkering with beauty recipes I pass them on to her and she excitedly shares them with my aunts, her friends, etc. My father has teased her saying that the day I go up in a cloud of smoke with some freaky concoction there will be at least another half dozen echo smoke clouds in South Florida.

Birthday Part 2

Wow, it was such a fun day. Nothing earth shattering but the little details and those who love me are what made the day special. Like my children being shushed by Mr. Maricucu so I could sleep in. Having them wake me up with hugs, cards and a gift. Pictures Mr. Maricucu slipped in of the kids and a massage gift certificate from a local spa I'll get to use next week. I'm so excited, I've never had a massage!



Slipping into a nice outfit, the first pretty sandals of the season (a gift from my mom last year) and going out to a yummy Cuban lunch with the family. Ate way too much but the craving is satiated - until next month. Then picking up a tart from a local French bakery that just about knocked me over with fresh strawberry aroma. I will definitely be getting a tart pan to recreate some more at home.




Coming home to a myriad of Facebook happy birthday wishes from many a friend and family member. Receiving calls and emails from many family members spread far and wide wishing me the same. They've totally made my day and more than that made me smile. A thoughtful surprise left by a friend on my front porch. I just had to document it, from the hand stamped card and matching envelope, to the beautiful chocolate cake rose inside and she even tucked in a few minis to deter the boys from eating the larger one. She's a mom too and understands. I've saved the box and will be putting it to good use too.




A mini photoshoot to satisfy my mom who always says I'm behind the lens and not in front of it often enough. Being a mom I captured my favorite subjects along with me.



Finally, this morning my brother is accepting his college diploma and we could not be more proud. Between a very well educated sister who is currently working on her master's and a brother who has a passion for children, sports and education, I could not be more proud of my younger siblings. B. may God bless you on the next step of your journey.

32 years ago today . . .

These two people became parents and haven't had a good night's sleep since. Yup, today is my birthday and these two handsome old people have successfully come out of the other end of raising three children. I imagine it was hard. Here's a before shot for comparison's sake and because I promised my mom I'd embarrass them both along with me today.



Now on to that embarrassing myself part. It was fun to look at these old pictures but fortunately for me (and likely you!) my mom still has in her possession the most humiliating photos. Fear not, she's compiled an album for each of her children with all our corresponding pictures. So one day I'll have much more wacko family history to share.

One theme I've noticed is my hair. I knew I liked big hair but boy did I forget that I rocked the wave bangs in the early 90s. I don't know what the heck I was thinking wearing that shirt on school picture day in 8th grade but I do remember it was an ensemble, with matching skort. Yes, there was more.



Here I was 15 and obviously losing the constant battle between the South Florida humidity and my blow dried straight (but naturally curly) hair. It was quite an interesting phenomenon to walk out with neatly styled hair and then visit the bathroom at school to see my hair having grown up and out just waiting for the bus. By the way I loved that black sweater with mother of pearl buttons. I wore it to death and still miss it. Sniff. I also just remembered that I didn't start plucking my eyebrows until two years after this. Explains a lot.



Looks like I had a Mork phase. Actually I was gussied up to don a crepe paper baby chick costume for a school recital.



And of course the requisite "awkward stage" photo. It seems all kids look strange and clumsy between the ages of 9-11.



Enough with the photos! Today I will eat yummy Cuban food I don't have to cook myself and celebrate with my own sweet children and loving husband. Now go hug someone you love.



Sorry, couldn't help myself. A photo of me with my paternal grandfather. I'm blessed with loving grandparents on both sides. My paternal grandfather passed away several years ago.

Bonus Post - Happy Birthday H!

Today I get to wish my beautiful, intelligent and amazing younger sister a Happy Birthday! She's a mother of three, an elementary school teacher and a pretty loving sister. Unfortunately for her, in my possession are pictures that would wreck a political career.

So HappyBirthday H! Hope you enjoy the walk down memory lane. You can thank mom for giving YOU the rest of your embarrassing photos, preventing me from making this a weekly feature.


H was always a bit of a tomboy but she sure did clean up well when mom did the job. You have to love the unabashed pride of a toothless child. The sausage curls? They were my mom's doing. I got those too and they looked nice for the first 20 minutes then the humidity would get to our hair and that's why you get Exhibit A.




Dominicans have a name for that awkward stage kids go through from about age 10-13 - it's the age of the turkey (la edad del pavo). Instead of tween we have a phrase that describes that quirky, lanky, self-conscious but not embarrassed preteen. My sister embodied that and more, in fact most of us questioned that she ever outgrew the stage. In exibit B she's joined by Kathy the chihuaha- my mother's answer to her kids growing up.



Now in solidarity, I'll include the rest of the sibling group in the walk of shame. We were going to church so we thought we were looking fine in these getups. No more words, I'll let you take this one in silence.



I love you H! So here's a more dignified shot of her as a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding. Perhaps this will atone for all you've seen before.



I'm so sorry. Please don't do this to me too. I had really bad hair until about 5 years ago so it's not pretty.

Shhhh, don't tell anyone

I'm blogging.

Just sneaking in to finally unload in a space that won't judge, won't let their eyes glaze over when I talk about crochet stitches, some new fabric and a recently acquired recipe in the same breath (not looking at you Mr. Maricucu). A new spot to proclaim that my motto for this year is:

DONE IS BETTER THAN PERFECT!

Yes I did yell that - hope I didn't scare you. I promise I don't yell often (online, in real life I can't make any promises). So yes, I will get things d-o-n-e, done. No more researching as a delay tactic. No more fear of doing things wrong holding me back from the finish. This year I will DO without fear of the results and embrace them as the journey they form. More on that header project photographed above in a moment.