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

Calling All Moms...Conclusion

Thanks to everyone who shared their opinion about the carrier/carseat ponderings. Everyone recommended the carrier, so the carrier it is! To be honest, I was leaning in that direction. It's just that I find them very difficult to carry around. The convertable carseats are so big though and seem uncomfortable for the baby to ride in when they're so little. I am convinced though, the carrier it is. I just need to get more arm strength anyways!

Indians Game

Last night Adam and I went to an Indians game. I'll have to say that it wasn't the most exciting game ever. The Indians were doing horrible, but it was still fun to spend the evening with Adam. I am so happy that the weather is getting nice enough to start doing outside activities!

My Crafty Husband

Here's a little glimps of a project Adam has been working on for the baby. For the past few months, Adam would pull this out and work on it whenever we would sit down to watch a movie. His project was on hold for a while because he wanted to know what we were going to name the baby before he finished it. Well, we found out we're having a girl, and Adam did the final touch. Yes, my husband likes to cross-stitch! We're going to frame it and put it up in the nursury. The good thing is that you can unpick the cross-stitch if for whatever reason our little girl comes out as a boy!

Calling all moms...

I need a little advice!

So babies come with a lot of purchases (I knew what I was getting into). With all the options it gets a little overwhelming. You may find a post on here every once in a while asking for opinions and past experiences. I know that every mom/child is different, but I really just need some different points of view now and then. So, my question for today is:









VS.










Which do you think is better: a infant carseat/carrier (5-20lbs.) with an eventual upgrade to the convertable carseat or a convertable carseat (5-40lbs.) from the beginning?

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!

Relief!

You may or may not know that I worry about everything! Becoming a new mother brings many worries to my mind as to whether I'll know what to do to take care of my baby. A friend of mine has this website linked from her blog and it answered all my questions! What a relief to know there really is an instruction manual!

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!

Do you think he's excited?

A few mornings ago I wasn't feeling well and decided I needed a day home from work to just relax and kind of recenter myself. We were completely out of milk and eggs, so Adam offered to go and get some before he had to go to school. I was still in bed when he got back, and he came up to the bedroom saying, "I got something for you." He then pulled this out of the bag:
I told him jokingly that I don't use pacifiers! He replied, "Well, its for all of you," while making big motions around my stomach with his hands. I'm not even showing yet, so it really makes me worried as to how he's going to picture me when I am actually showing. Nevertheless, it was very cute to see him so excited.