Aimee's Grandpa John entered this photo in the Dupage County Fair. It's on display in the photography section in case any of you happen to go this week and want to check it out in person.

Thanks Grandpa!

Pride

Recently, Brian and I finally watched Real Woman Have Curves. It's a movie that came out several years ago. Here's the plot: Ana, an cute but overweight Mexican American girl is graduating at the top of the upper class school she gets bused into. Her mother, an overbearing, condescending, manipulative, demanding stereotype doesn't want her to go to college. Instead, she wants her to work as a seamstress in their family shop, lose weight, get married, and have some kids. Ana rages against what her mother wants by eating her weight in tres leches cake, giving her virginity to a boy she decides she won't see again, and going to college in New York.

It's supposed to be empowering for girls or something. I was neither empowered, nor impressed. In fact, I was depressed. (Except for her going to college...that was good.)

Pride is a horribly debilitating thing. I wanted to scream at the TV. I wanted to take Ana out for coffee and explain to her that it's much harder to do the right thing for the right reasons DESPITE everyone else wanting you to do the right things for misguided reasons. She wanted to prove to her mother that her worth was not based on her looks or her virginity. I wanted to tell her that she was right. Her worth isn't based on those things, but because she IS worthy, she should guard them.

For so many years, lots of people wanted me to lose weight. I always rejected it. Like Ana, I was out to prove that I could be overweight and still be successful, get dates with hot guys (I got to marry one!), and be popular. Now that I'm older, I realize that while people's motivations (or methods) weren't always what I needed at the time, I was wrong. I was wrong to stay overweight for the sake of pride. It kills me when people look at me with satisfaction because "I finally listened" and am on my way to not having to shop in the plus department anymore. I want to tell them, yeah, I'm not doing this because of you and your rude comments, I'm doing it because I care about myself.

Today, I had to deal with my pride. It's an aweful thing when your pride get's hurt. My natural reaction is to see what I can do to build it back up. Unfortunately, my only defensive reactions would have hurt me more than anyone else. If I didn't want to suffer, I'd have to continue to do the right thing despite anyone else's opinion.

Pride is such a powerful thing that even when you realize that you need to change in your life, it can keep you from inviting it in for fear that it will be seen as weakness. I guess that's why being a Christian is hard. Christianity requires us ask for help and admit that we can't on our own.

Sleep walker

My husband is a sleep walker. Many have heard some of the funny (and scary) stories about the things he's said and done in his sleep. Brian can have full conversations with you in his sleep...sometimes in Spanish. When we were first married, I would try to see if I could "catch" him in anything, like calling me by an ex-girlfriends name or something equally incriminating. Lucky for him (and me) I confirmed time and time again that I am in fact, the only person he thinks about, dreams about, and loves.

Lately Brian's sleepwalking/talking have all been about Aimee. Usually he dreams that Aimee is sleeping in the bed with us and is going to fall, which means that he usually tries to catch her. Since I'm the only person in the bed with him, I'm the one that ends up getting "caught".

So, I am making his sleep walking episodes a regular feature on this blog. I'll start with this one that happened a few nights ago :

Brian: "Can you help me catch Aimee?"
Liz: "Catch her from where?"
Brian: "She's crawling around all over the floor and I can't catch her"
Liz: " Honey, she's laying in her crib sleeping"
Brian: "Are you sure?"
Liz: "Yes honey, I put her there. She's been sleeping all night"
Brian: "Ohhhh. Maybe that's why I can't catch her."

Disconnected

A billboard informed me yesterday that a highschool classmate of mine was murdered 2 years ago. I was driving home and there, right off of the highway, was a reward for information leading to the capture of his killer. Today, after some google-action I found out that one of the person's of interest is another former classmate from the private school I went to for one year. I also discovered that it's been all over the news for the past 2 years. The local newspapers have run a story about it every few months and there's even been TV news reports.

He wasn't a personal friend, but everyone knew him. He was a popular athlete from a well known family. The newspaper article said that he was doing well as a real estate investor. He was the kind of guy that everyone knew would do well in life.

It's really shocking.

Road Trip

Aimee took her first road trip last weekend. It was picture perfect. Grand Dad Wroblewski came with us to Minnesota to see Granny and Uncle Ray and the crew. I'm trying to settle into staying home and I'm realizing that if I have it my way, I'll be moving around too much to actually settle. The dry erase board on the fridge is already full of activities and commitments for the rest of the week and part of next week, and I havn't even joined my church's Mom's Coffee group, or looked into activities at the park district.

Tomorrow it's off it Millenium Park, to visit her Abuela at work, and to visit relatives. Friday is Aimee's first play date and then an afternoon at the pool.

Every now and then I think about those things that are specific to our culture that we inevitably grow out of as we become more americanized. It's my visit with relatives tomorrow that reminded me about how we used to always ask our Puerto Rican older relatives and family friends to bless us. When we'd walk in the house we'd automatically say, "Bendicion" which means, "Blessing" or "please give me your blessing". When I was little I said it because that's what everyone else said. I didn't think about the meaning, just about the fact that it was a show of respect. Now that I'm older, I realize that it was a richly beautiful custom and I'm very sad that Aimee will probably only know about it because I'm going to tell her. People rarely ever ask for it anymore, and being away from family provides less opportunity to impose on their benedictions.

Aimee's first Road Trip

Pics of Aimee's visit with her Great Granny, Ella, Uncle Ray, and Aunt Debbie up on her picture blog.

Old and New

Today is the last day of working life as I have known it for the past 10 years. Brian asked me the other day what was going through my mind. Not much really. A bit of anxiety, uncertainty. Will I be able to make this life all that I dreamed it would be? Days filled with friends, sun, fun activities, dinner ready made by 4 pm and keeping my house impeccably clean? I don't know. I've already learned that the keeping the house impeccably clean and dinner part could actually take up a major part of the day, so I'm going to have to really make some decisions about that.

I'm looking forward to enjoying my baby, teaching her new things, and letting her teach me too. I'm hoping to contribute more to our home so that Brian will have more time to spend with us after work, and to figure out what I want to do when I decide to go back to the work force. I also realize that in a few weeks, when every nook and cranny of my house is organized and all the projects completed, I will begin to wonder how I can improve the community and world around me. I'm not going to worry about that right now. Right now, I'm just going to get the "full time mommy" thing down, and then I'll think about that later.

Also, today marks the fourth anniversary of the death of my dear friend Shawn. We had a horrible fight and I broke his heart months before he died. We didn't speak to each other until 3 weeks before his death. He called me to say that he felt the Holy Spirit prompting him to call me. We talked for a while that day, and we sat in silence, not knowing what more to say, but not wanting to hang up. Three weeks later, Brian and I went to see him perform with his band at Cornerstone and he died the next day. He had stayed up all night, and watched the sunrise. He told friends that he had never felt God's glory as powerfully as he did that morning. His heart failed him that day, and I received the call from a mutual friend with the news.

Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been if I had chosen the path he wanted for me. I'm a firm believer that God honors whatever path we take as long we we honor Him in the process. I have been blessed these past years. Blessed beyond my imagination. Tomorrow I step out in a new direction and I have faith that no matter what, I have placed my future in the right hands.