Ma

"A daughter is a mother's gender partner, her closest ally in the family confederacy, an extension of her self. And mothers are their daughters' role model, their biological and emotional road map, the arbiter of all their relationships." ~Victoria Secunda

This morning I got a call from a co-worker who was running late. He told me that last evening his mother-in-law had passed away in her sleep, and he had been taking care of some things for his wife before he came into work. I have never met his wife, but immediatly my heart dropped because she is expecting her first child come October. The death was unexpected. Her mother was young and had no serious health problems.

After hearing this news, I couldn't help but think about my own sweet mother. She has been my best friend since my teen years, and I would always turn to her for advice and counsel before anyone else. It would be terribly difficult to lose her at any time in my life, but I think it would be the most heart-breaking at this point in my life since I am now pursuiting the role of mother for the first time. I look forward to my mom coming up after my baby is born to be reminded of all the things she's already taught me about being a good mother and to just be a quiet strength. I know that I will call her countless times a day looking for advice and a good laugh. I couldn't have asked for a better example for a mother. She is selfless, talented and beautiful. She balances her life with an amazing ease that I know I will never be able to grasp. I pray that the Lord will guide me to be the kind of mother she is and that I will get to have many more years of her wisdom in my life.

Thanks Ma, for being my best friend!

Missionaries

Growing up, my family was always very supportive of the missionaries and the work that they did. My parents were always willing to open their home for discussions with investigators and for feeding the Elder's hearty appetites. The spirit these young men brought into our home was special and always a wonderful example to me as I grew up. When I married Adam, that involvement with the missionaries continued. It made me happy to see him seek out the missionaries and volunteer to go on splits with them everytime we moved to a new ward. I knew that supporting the missionaries would be important in the new family we established.

At least twice a month Adam and I have Family Home Evening with the missionaries and another sister in our ward. I always look forward to those Mondays.

My brothers, Dario and Josh, just entered the MTC (missionary training center) last Wednesday. As we were sitting at the kitchen table last night, playing a game for the FHE activity, I realized that my brothers were now missionaries just like these young men sitting with us. It seemed a little strange to me for I still see them with wrinkled pants and an untucked shirt walking into the chapel. I also was reminded that the Elders who were sitting at our table have families at home who are praying for thier success and safety just as Adam and I pray for my brothers every night. It made me hope that wherever Dario and Josh go, they will be taken care of and supported in all the labors that they perform. I know that the Lord will watch over them, just as he's watched over the missionaries here. I also have a stronger desire to support the missionaries in any way I can because to someone else, they are probably that younger brother who was told time and time again by his mother to "tuck in his shirt."

Swing Batter Batter, Swing!

This post is about baseball. You've probably read some other posts from this summer that have been about the same thing. Yes, we got to baseball games pretty often, but I promise this post is different. WHY?

Well, we weren't planning on going to a game Wednesday night. Adam had a test on Thursday so our Wednesday night plan involved him studying and me being bored out of my mind and probably watching one too many episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond. Well, that morning I was offered free tickets to the nights baseball game...not just any tickets, but CLUB tickets. I honestly didn't know all that it involved, but I did know the seats would be better than any of the seats Adam and I could afford on our student budget. So, the conflict...do I accept the tickets even though Adam really needs to study tonight or do I reject them and forever be shunned by my husband who loves baseball almost (possibly more at times) as much as he loves me? Okay, dumb question...so I accepted. I called Adam up immediatly and told him that he better study is booty off because I just got us tickets to the game tonight...club seats!

Let me just say, sitting in club seats makes you never look at a baseball game the same way. To give you an idea of how great it is, Adam told me "This is what I imagaine heaven to be like."

Here are some reasons watching baseball games will never be the same:

1. GREAT seats. We usually have to sit so stinking far away from the field that I can see the players, but not the ball. I get bored because to me it just looks like a bunch of guys standing on the field. We were a little to the right of home plate. I couldn't even fit the entire diamond in my camera view from our seats.

2. The seats are PADDED! Do you know what kind of wonders that does for a pregnant woman?

3. The food was FREE. So you're probably thinking...great, all the hotdogs and nachos one could desire. Did you know they serve turkey roast, fajitas, pasta, vegetables and pizza at baseball games? They do! And it's the best turkey roast Adam and I have EVER had...Thanksgiving will be a disappointment from here on out. Notice the food on this next picture...not me all hot and humid and wilted. Which reminds me...we got to eat inside...in the air conditioning. 4. The bathrooms are so nice and clean. I didn't take any pictures, but it was definitly an upgrade from past ones I've used at Progressive Field.

Well, the Indians lost, but we were okay with that. Adam has decided that one day we'll always sit in club seats (as wonderful as that would be, we'll see if that really happens or not). We're so grateful that we got to have this experience and be spoiled for a night! Most of all though, I just loved watching Adam enjoy his little piece of "heaven" for the night. Oh, and for the record, he did great on his test!

Lo siento, pero no puedo hablar en espanol...

I know this is going to be a long post, but I have to get this off my chest.

The title of this post is supposed to say, "I'm sorry, but I cannot speak in Spanish." To be honest, I don't really know if I wrote it correctly or not. I have a really great maiden name...Zuluaga! Yep, you read that correctly, and yes, I was always last in anything that was alphabetical. My last name was a great conversation starter, and it was fun to tell people that my dad is from Colombia, South America.
Since I've gotten married to someone with a common last name, the questions don't come very often. I rarely have the opportunity to tell people that I'm half Colombian. No one asks me anymore whether or not I speak Spanish (both my parents are fluent), and I don't have to embarassingly admit that I don't. Now, it's not my parent's fault that I don't speak Spanish. The language was often used in my home, and I understand what my parents are saying when they speak in Spanish. There is a home video that we have from when I was two or three with someone speaking to me in English and I had NO idea what they were saying. My dad then repeated the question to my confused, little self in Spanish, and I responded without hesitation (in Spanish)! Anyways, somewhere along the way I just lost it. Maybe it was the fact that I lived in an English speaking country or maybe I was just lazy.

It doesn't really matter why I lost it. It just matters that I did lose it. So, why am I even writing all of this? Last week I found one of my cousins from Colombia on Facebook. Since then, I have found many more of my relatives from Colombia on there. I can read what they write to me, but I can't respond, and it is horrible! There are so many things I want to talk to them about without having to wait for a translation from my mom or dad. I've been kicking myself all week for not having tried harder to learn Spanish. Why didn't I even try responding to my parents in Spanish instead of using English all the time?

As I was looking at pictures of my family in Colombia, I realized that I am a stranger. A moment of enlightenment hit me when I saw this picture:This is a picture of my Tia (aunt) Liliana. If you look at the bottom right hand corner, you'll see a picture of Adam and me. I felt so much shame when I saw this picture. I am not a stranger to them; I am family. Yet, I have let them become strangers to me by not making more of an effort to reach out to them. As I looked at the pictures my Tia Clarena had on facebook, I was filled with some sorrow and regret for refusing to talk to my abuela on the phone when my dad would try to hand it to me (again, the whole fear of not being able to talk in Spanish) and all the other times I didn't make an effort.

It's really been bothering me that I have little of my Colombian heritage to give to my baby girl. I don't make Colombian food, have any CDs with vallenatos or speak Spanish! Who am I to steal that from her? After all, it's part of her heritage too. So, I've decided that I am going to learn Spanish. I'm going to put all my fears and laziness aside and make all those mistakes that come along with learning a new language. I am going to talk to my family in Colombia and share what I learn with my children. My kids will help me prepare arepas and frijoles for dinner while listening to Vallenatos, and maybe one day, we'll even visit Colombia.

For now, here are some pictures of my family in Colombia.

This is my cousin Jose and my abuela. My dad looks a lot like her.

From left to right: My tia Liliana, my cousin (Andres), Angelica's little girl (Ana Maria), and my cousin (Angelica).
My abuela, Tia Liliana and my abuelo. I don't know why this last one is so small, but it's my abuela and tia Clarena

The Night Chicago Died

Yesterday, when I was standing in line at US Bank waiting to deposit a check, my mind brought up a thought of my dad and a past family trip to Colombia right in the middle of thoughts about account numbers and endorsing. I snapped my head up in surprise, confused as to where exactly the thought came from. I then noticed an old and small Latin man who had just walked up to stand in line behind me...and he smelled like something I couldn't pinpoint. It was the smell of arepas, plantains, a coffee farm and my abuela all rolled up into one. It was a wonderful scent that had taken my mind back to Colombia before I even realized what I was smelling.

This past weekend Adam and I were driving in the car, listening to some oldies station on the radio. One song ended and "The Night Chicago Died" began playing. I was suddenly taken back to my parents dining room watching my mom listen to the song while she did the dishes. I wasn't particularly fond of the song growing up and willingly would have hit the skip button on the CD player, but my mom seemed to enjoy it too much for me to do that. As the song played in the car, I got so excited (despite my usual indifference towards the song) because of where it took me. It took me back to the safety of my home in Georgia and the familiar comfort of my mom and her routine.

Last Friday, a man was walking in front of me wearing Curve for Men. That smell reminded me of Kris. In high school I would walk behind him if I saw him in the hall just to smell his cologne...he wore Curve for Men everyday. I loved that scent so much; I would have walked behind anyone who gave off that aroma. It was silly, but the scent still places me in my high school state-of-mind for a quick second.

During the trip to Niagara Falls, I saw a lot of moms put their kids up on the wall to get pictures with the falls behind their children. It was wide enough for a little kid bottom to sit on, but the ground on the other side was VERY far away! One mom in particular had put her baby up there with her two or three-year-old son holding him (kind of). The baby was struggling to get away and the brother didn't really feel like touching is sibling. It took me back to watching my baby brother fall three stories when I was 16 or 17. The panic filled me body all over again, and it was all I could do to not grab those children off the wall and yell at their mom.

I love memories, but I especially love how memories can float into my mind without having to "think" about what happened. I love that something as simple as a scent can take you somewhere back in time, but the feelings are just as strong as though they're are happening at that moment!

The Women in My Life

“When the real history of mankind is fully disclosed, will it feature the echoes of gunfire or the shaping sound of lullabies? The great armistices made by military men or the peacemaking of women in homes and in neighborhoods? Will what happened in cradles and kitchens prove to be more controlling than what happened in congresses?” -Elder Neal A Maxwell

I'll admit that this week has been a difficult one for me. My rapidly changing body has left me feeling a little insecure and frustrated everytime I try to put on a pair of pants that doesn't quite fit or when my make up still won't cover the "welcome back to middle school" blemishes on my face. I've had a thousand pep talks with myself about what really matters is on the inside, not the outside. I've said some prayers for strength and perspective. Yet, that awful voice keeps whispering that I don't measure up to who I used to be...both inside and out. I have a wonderful husband who has been very supportive and loving through all of this, but he has never been pregnant and he is not a woman. I don't think he fully understands the pressures that women feel from the media. It seems that every time I turn on the television a half naked gorgeous woman is thrown in my face saying, "This is what beautiful is." I tell her back, "No, you're not real...make-up, ridiculous diets, and computers have created you." But, they just won't stop coming! I'm also being hit at the angle of "a great woman has a career before she has children" every day at work. So, as much as I fight it, they are always fighting back.

Last night I didn't feel like going to church for enrichement night (an activity for the women). I wanted to hide at home where no one would know what I was feeling. So, of course I went because I knew that it was really better for me to be there than sitting at home in self-pity. I am so GLAD that I went. All of the women there are so beautiful and it's real beauty. I felt so encircled by thier love for each other and thier love for being a woman of God. It was just the boost I needed to gain some confidence back. Then, this morning I was crossed with another reminder from God of what a real women is when I visited my Aunt Kim's post about my grandma. In some of the pictures of her, I saw traits that had been passed onto my mother that have been passed on to me. It reminded me of all the wonderful women in my life who are amazing examples of how beautiful REAL women are.

My thoughts took me to this:

"Women of God can never be like women of the world. The world has enough women who are tough; we need women who are tender.There are enough women who are coarse; we need women who are kind.

There are enough women who are rude; we need women who are refined.

We have enough women of fame and fortune; we need more women of faith.We have enough greed; we need more goodness.
We have enough vanity; we need more virtue. We have enough popularity; we need more purity."

-Margaret D. Nadauld

Thanks to all of you women who have been such wonderful examples to me. I am grateful for your kindness and quiet strengths. If your picture is not in this post, it doesn't mean you haven't touched my life...it means I don't have access to your picture at the computer I'm at currently. You are all so beautiful and I cherish your friendship! Many thanks!

I'm concerned for my children!!!

When I first met Adam, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. When I started dating Adam, I thought I had found my prince. When I married Adam, he turned back into a frog...and I am VERY concerned about the effects it will have on our children!!!! It gets worse...this runs on my side of the family too!

Only it's much more severe on my side...

Okay, maybe it's just as bad on Adam's side!

Hopefully it just runs in boys, and I'll pray for girls!!!

Carro de Boi

Dario and Josh (the ones being strangled by Adam) are my 18-year-old brothers. They are getting ready to go on their missions, and this is the last time Adam and I will see them before they leave for two years. They turn 19 in April and have sent in their papers!

For a last hoo-rah, we took them to aBrazilian Grill! This place is the BEST! The boys had never been to one of these types of restaurants and lets just say that they absolutly loved it! The meat there is so tender and flavorful. It was so fun to watch them eat. Every time Josh would try a new type of meat, his face would melt into this "I could die now and be content" look. It was fun to chat with Dario and Josh about their plans for the future.

Daddy and Arepas

I'm not really sure how much everyone who reads this blog knows about me. There are some things about my life that I haven't said (or written) much about. I don't think I've said much about my dad on here and that's probably because I live so far away from him, just like the rest of my family. My dad has to travel a lot for work, but he was able to be home during the time Adam and I were in Georgia. I was so glad that we got to have him around while we were there!

My dad loves to experiment with food. I don't know if I'm supposed to tell this to everyone, but my dad had to teach my mom how to cook when they first got married (my mom is a great cook now)! My dad was always making up new dishes in the kitchen. Some were delish...some were not (like his spinach macaroni and cheese). One of the things he makes best are arepas! MMMmmm! They're not a made up dish, but a wonderful food that he ate while growing up in Colombia. This was a common Saturday breakfast at my house and they never last very long. Sadly, I never learned how to make them, so when Daddy made them during our trip I was thrilled!

Little Mulberry Park

My four-year-old brother, Dallen (aka Dito) has been so excited to take me to Little Mulberry Park since he found out Adam and I were coming to Georgia. We decided to go and play one evening.

Dito doing what he does best...play!

I think the weight is a little unbalanced..

I decided to have a go at it myself!

Dallen was also really excited for me to meet their new dog, Sheila. She came to the park too and Daddy took her for a walk while we played on the playground. Growing up, my family frequently visited the park. It definitly made me feel back at home hanging out at Little Mulberry Park.

Blue Willow Inn

For Adam's Spring Break, we took a trip down to Georgia to visit my family. We enjoyed spending time with the family. We tried to spend as much time as we could outside because it was warm and sunny! Two things we rarely experience during the Cleveland winters.

One of the days Adam and I went with my parents to Social Circle, Georgia where we enjoyed some Old Southern Cooking at the Blue Willow Inn. It's an old antebellum restaurant and the food was delish! They had the best biscuits I've ever eaten...perfectly flakey and buttery! Yum!

As you can see, there are flowers in the background and greenery everywhere! We definitly have missed the beautiful scenery.

It was so fun spending the day with my parents. Their conversations kept making me laugh because they sound like the family's conversation at the dinner table in While You Were Sleeping. Nothing they say really relates to what the other one said, except for maybe one or two words!

Zuluaga Family Pictures

We got family pictures taken during our visit to Georgia. Click here to see them. Deborah Ard is the photographer and did an excellent job. This is the last time the whole family will be together for the next two years. Dario and Josh will both be leaving for their missions before Adam and I are able to make it back to Georgia. We decided to jump at the opportunity to take family pictures. Enjoy!

Childhood Deprivations Lead to Irrational Adult Behavior

It's a known fact that I love cookies. In high school, I was known for my obsession with the cafeteria's wonderful chocolate chip cookies. I was also VERY upset when they changed the recipe (and was the only one of my friends who noticed). I would make a batch of cookies almost every weekend before I went to college. I would make enough for my entire family, but in the end would eat most of them myself. My family referred to me as "The Cookie Monster." Cookies were a part of the requirement in determining who I was to marry. Who ever this man was going to be, must show up at my door with a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

In all of this cookie-ness, I only remember a couple of times my mom would order girl scout cookies, and it was usually only one box. Yes, ONE box for six people! Do you know how that divides up? Not very abundant portions!

Well, about a month ago, the time of year came around for ordering girl scout cookies. I quickly slipped on over to the ordering sheet and signed up for five boxes of girl scout cookies. Today, the gorious boxes arrived! Then I realized, "What was I thinking ordering FIVE boxes of girl scout cookies for TWO people?" The woman I ordered them from commented, "You were by biggest order; my daughter really appreciates you." Gee, I ordered so many that I stand out. I really am a cookie monster! Embarrassed, I called Adam and told him there is NO way I'm riding the bus home with five boxes of girl scout cookies and begged him to pick me up from work today. My knight in shining armour agreed to the request. There is only one explanation for my ordering five boxes of girl scout cookies...it's a cry from my inner child who was so often deprived of girl scout cookies. Hopefully, next year I won't be so greedy!

International Waffle Day - The Tradition

For a few years now the Zuluaga family (Zuluaga is my maiden name) has been celebrating International Waffle Day. A while back my brother, Josh, kept asking my mom to make waffles, but she always had some excuse to not do it. One day Josh told my mom that February 6th was International Waffle Day. Now, since my mom likes holidays so much she went all out making a bunch of waffles on that day and we got to eat them with whatever toppings we wanted...ice cream,. chocolate syrup, strawberries, sprinkles, jam, you name it! We continued the celebration each year. Then the truth finally came out...there is no such thing as International Waffle Day. Josh made the whole thing up so that my mom would make waffles! Well, by this point we had done it so much that it became tradition. Here are some pictures of the prep work for the holiday this year:

The glorious toppings:

We had our friends Amber and Dan over to enjoy the feast!

A Little Disturbing

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about marriage and the importance of the family unit. Last week Adam told me about a conversation he overheard while at the gym, and it kind of got my head spinning. A group of guys were talking about how important it is to wait as long as you can before you have children after you get married. Well, my immediate thought was, "They probably want to make sure they finish school and are financially stable before they start their family." Then Adam told me that they said, "Yeah, once you have that kid you're stuck in the marriage for at least 18 years." I can honestly say that I was shocked by this remark. I was amazed by the fact that they went into marriage thinking that they would eventually get out. I understand that marriage is hard and takes a lot of work, but why even go through all that work if you're planning on throwing it away someday. I don't know if this is the case, but it seemed to me like they were planning to fail. Now, I understand that under some circumstances, divorce becomes necessary. I'm not here to judge every individual situation. I'm just wanting to comment on today's mindset of marriage. Yesterday, the kicker happened. I was reading Time magazine when I came across an article entitled, Bye Bye, Love. The article talked about how people are celebrating their divorces with cakes, parties, and ring coffins! Years ago, divorce was something that rarely happened and today some people are celebrating it the same way they would celebrate a birthday or wedding. This really disturbs me because I feel like divorce is being accepted as another celebration or joyous event in life. It is almost being portrayed as the "cool" thing to do. I'm just curious what everyone else's feelings and thoughts are on this...

Christmas in Houston

So, I know it's a little late to be posting about our Christmas, but I really haven't had a chance to do it since we've gotten back. We went to Houston this year to spend Christmas with the Nelson side of the family. It was a very nice Christmas and very WARM...in the 70s the whole time we were there. It was my first Christmas away from my family, and even though I got homesick everyone did a wonderful job of helping it feel like Christmas. It looks like I'm blinking in all the pictures I'm posting, but I still couldn't open my eyes at this point.
It must be a brother thing, but for some reason they felt a need to open thier mouths really wide to show their excitement!

Dear Chase,

I'm am so sad that we didn't get any pictures of you! Adam was in charge of taking the pictures since I couldn't see that morning. So, I'm apologizing on his behalf for not taking any pictures of you. I promise we love you! I'm so so sorry!!!!