The Catch 22 of Family

What is family? What does the word family mean? I know I love my family, but after 2000, I had to redefine what the word meant for me in my own life. It can't just be blood. I've had to create my own family out of my dearest friends.


But sometimes blood is thicker than water, right? Sometimes is the key word. I've had blood family stab me in the back like you wouldn't believe. So blood is not always family.

The best way I can resolve this question is case by case. Take my mom for example. She is family, but she has committed many mistakes. I forgive her for them, but the problem now lies in how to deal with her today.

I love my mom because she's done many great things. But I don't love being around her. In fact, I despise it more often than not. Not so much for her abandoning the family and leaving my dad when he was sick with cancer. Not as much any more for the illegal fraud she has committed with my name. I believe in my heart that I have forgiven her for those things. But do I trust her?

Not even close. Slowly, but surely, I'm working on that. I can't expect her to change much. She's bipolar and suicidal (although psychotic is the term she likes to use). I realized this past year that it would have to be my own undertaking to work on how I react to her in situations that would make the most difference in our relationship. Usually, I'm tempted to roll my eyes at the embarrassment of her inability to monitor her voice, her tongue, and even more frighteningly, her bad flatulence. I know it's funny, but it's very true.

I've realized, with the help of Marco, that in order for her to change her negative behavior and manipulative ways, it would need a special touch of me. Don't react. Be in the moment with her.

How do I accomplish that? I suppose I may have forgiven but I won't forget. I live by that, and I don't find any fault in doing that. However, I know I can't think about yesterday when I'm around her. I have to find some comfortable spot within myself and not give into her wanting negative attention (i.e. the rolling of my eyes, raising my voice). She thinks I hate her, so I'm trying to convey to her that I don't. But at the same time, I won't let her take advantage of me. It's quite an undertaking to deconstruct this giant wall I've built to keep her out. But I can no longer avoid it.

I decided to face some of this head on. I just got back from taking her to Austin for my nephew Shoobie's 3rd birthday. I figured she could spend some time with Marco and me and even spend the night. This was important not just because of bonding time, but she doesn't wake up easily, and I'm tired of having to bang on her door for an hour to get her up. Seems like a simple solution?

Spend the night?! Okay, what was I thinking? She cannot control her BMs and has to wear Depends. No problem. I decided to lay out an old pair of sheets on the bed that I didn't really care for. Last Friday night went well, and there were no surprises Saturday morning.

My biggest concern was her giving me the money for her hotel room. As long as she was to go with us, she would have to pay for her own hotel room. I really searched for an affordable place for her too, knowing she's on disability and doesn't earn a living. It seemed cruel to drop her off at a hotel after the birthday party, but drawing limits with her is crucial. Otherwise, you give an inch to her, she'll take 1,000 miles.

It's never easy riding with her in a car. She bombards you with millions of questions, but I really worked as I hard as I could to be positive. The truth is she said something that resonated with me. Something very lucid and right on. Saturday morning, she said that it's important to remain positive about our lives and situations so we don't invite all the pain and self-destructive harm into our own lives.

Wow. I was impressed. I usually feel like I'm dealing with a 12 year old instead of a 54 year old adult and mother. I kept that in mind as we rode down 35 to Austin. This was a lot to ask of me. A three hour road trip with her. Spending the night at my house. And so far, it wasn't the greatest experience, but it wasn't the worst either.

We listened to some French CDs that Marco and I have been working on for our trip to Paris. She remained calm and quiet. She didn't even beg to stop the car for a potty break. She was listening to the limits I clearly discussed with her. I was proud of that.

And most importantly, she didn't cry or say she was going to vomit! I felt she was prepared and knew I was not going to accept her bad behavior, which is almost always an exaggeration of the truth.

The party went quite well. She was well behaved, and I enjoyed spending time with my biological dad, stepmother, and my cousin Kyle, and his fiancee, Brittney.


So I guess that was the bad news turned good from all this. Don't worry, though. Some more unusual stuff popped up later, and I must say I handled it better than expected. But for now, the party was immense. Shoobie was getting everything and more!


My brother, Brian, made an enormouse Sponge Bob Squarepants cake that was amazing looking. It was extremely sweet! Shoobie had all his little friends over for all the fun. It was like a day at Hurrican Harbor!

I don't think I've ever seen such a huge extravaganza at a 3 year old's birthday. But he loved it. Many of his gifts were larger than his undersized body. Whether he will remember all the events, like the water slide, trampoline, multiple toy gifts, or even the cake, is another story yet to be seen.

Marco and I didn't stay very long. He got to see and hold Isabel for the first time, which was beautiful. She's grown so much already! As she sat in his warm arms, she smiled and laughed as he snuggled with her.



In the end, the weekend was decent. Mom handled her hotel quite well, despite my worries about having to pound on the door Sunday morning to wake her up and leave for Dallas. She was on time with everything. Unfortunately, I had a stye starting to form in my eye Sunday. But other than that, I felt that I handled the worrying better than I ever could have expected. In fact, I've realized that if I let go more and more, especially with the worrying, then it won't be my problem. I've turned her problems into mine because of my reactions.

Well, there was that one episode that occurred once we got back in Dallas. But I stopped it from escalating. In the end, she admitted that I was right. That felt like a first!

I think love is the one thing that has kept me from completely throwing her out of my life. I'm now exercising tough love, and I'm doing all that I can to not get angry. With that, I hope to stop reinforcing her negative behavior.

Love can go a long way, if you express it sincerely and from the right place. With a family like mine, I have to remember that.

Thankfully, I have Marco in my life, and now we have our own little family consisting of the two of us and our 3 collective pets, Atticus, Falcon and Luna.

Sweet Izzy and clever Shoobie

Sometimes you write your thoughts. Other times pictures tell your story. I had the chance to meet my new niece, Isabel the last weekend of May. Seeing my brother, Brian and his family is a great feeling. I love them so much!



Holding Izzy is pure sweetness...well, when she's not screaming. She managed to find some down time for me to hold her the morning after I first saw her. I'm amazed by her red hair!!


A short while later, Shoobie wanted to jump on his new trampoline with me. He wouldn't let go, but later that day he told me to get off. Classic Shoobie-style.


And when he had the trampoline to himself, he was like the Energizer bunny. He wouldn't stop. Nor could he decide whether he wanted someone to jump with him or if would rather jump alone.



I felt proud to hold my niece. My first niece by blood. It's astonishing how much she looks like her mom, Jennifer. Her hair just glows, and everyone takes notice. This was a great moment just before I departed to head back to Dallas from my weekend getaway to spend time with the family in Austin.

Being Uncle Ichael

Uncle Ichael!

I love those words from my 3 year old nephew, Shoobie. I cannot wait to hear what my six week old niece, Izzy will say when she starts to speak.


I can't hide the pride I feel from being an uncle. Much less an uncle that Shoobie...or Russell as he was actually named...flocks to. We tango together and read books from time to time. He's a shining star in the dark night. And truly spoiled, I'm afraid. I am looking forward to the same bond with Isabel that I have already established with the Shoobster.


And then some. My brother, Joey, and his wife are expecting their first child around August 10. Another boy. Julien Joaquin. My uncle duties are increasing, but that's no problem for me! I love it and cherish the bonds.

Back in the saddle again

To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world.

The originator of those spoken words is unknown, but the truth behind them speaks volumes. About three or four years ago, I would only have hoped for someone to splash into my life. Someone that would let me be who I am and wouldn't force me to be someone other than myself. I guess that can be a tall task at times. I have been known to be anal retentive, rigid, and rather guarded. Guarded doesn't even begin to describe the path I've been down. But it's a start.


After forcing myself to settle and change for others, I had lost hope in discovering anyone else. Relationship after relationship failed me. Well, those so-called relationships turned out to be an important part of my journey to self-discovery. I began to notice patterns. Unhealthy and unwise patterns. And after things began to click for me again a couple of years ago, I met the perfect man for me.

Marco came to my 30th birthday party (an 80s costume and karaoke party) at the invitation of a mutual friend, Erika. She wanted to set us up, but both of us were not so willing to saddle up just yet. I had been single for nearly 3 years, and he had come out of a long-term relationship himself. He was disguised as the lead guitarist from Poison, while I dressed as The Cure's leading man, Robert Smith. Needless to say, I pursued talking to him and asking him out. I had nothing to lose.

Little did I know what adventure I was embarking on. I just knew that I would probably meet the right person for me in my 30s. I never realized it would be the day I turned 30!

A year and a half and several sushi rolls later, we're still going strong. In fact, we are about to take our very first big trip together to London and Paris in a couple of weeks. Other than the fact that he's so accepting of my faults, he encourages me.

Last summer, I blogged on myspace about my journey back to Argentina. I might repost those here but didn't find it appropriate for a first entry. Well, I wrote daily about
the hardships I encountered and the new love I created as I returned to the
country where I once lived. It was from those blogs that he began to encourage me to get back into writing.

Having a journalism degree, a writing background, and hell, even teaching writing to 4th graders, I somehow stopped writing myself. But I think it's important to tell your story. So I see this as not my first blog because it isn't, but rather a beginning of my story. And I dedicate this to the magnificent man that I love and cherish, Marco.

I'm letting love back in.