Hola,
los hijos necesitan un ambiente en el que, habitualmente, se esté de buen humor. Cuando esto no ocurre, el hogar va cayendo poco a poco en un sopor parecido a la tristeza, que no lleva a nada ni libera de los problemas. Por lo tanto, fomentar el buen humor empieza por nosotros mismos, los padres. Si queremos ganarnos el afecto de los hijos y lograr que crezcan con un carácter enérgico es necesario que colguemos los problemas en el perchero, al entrar a casa. Y también que nos decidamos a sonreír. Estar de buen humor no cuesta tanto, y además es mucho más gratificante. Hay que esforzarse por sonreír, aunque a veces se haga difícil. Poniendo ganas, acabará por enraizarse en el carácter un sólido sentido del humor.

Espero que os sea de ayuda y que me contéis vuestras experiencias.

Hace meses hice un vídeo en el que hablaba de la importancia de educar a nuestros hijos de manera positiva. Lo que nosotros les trasmitamos ahora, de forma verbal o no verbal, quedará grabado en su inconsciencia, aunque en muchas ocasiones ni nos demos cuenta.
Así, que debemos tener cuidado si les transferimos mensajes negativos (inseguridad, dudas, miedos, baja autoestima) o positivos (confianza, decisión, valentía, alta autoestima).

Espero vuestros comentarios y ya me contaréis si os sirve de ayuda.

And THAT…in a nutshell, says it all when it comes to how I’ve been feeling since turning forty; the many changes in my personality, who I am becoming, how I feel, the whole nine-yards really. And to top it all off, I’m nurturing a growing toddler as I too bloom and grow into the mid part of my life. I feel blessed to have a loving husband by my side through it all, because I really couldn’t imagine having to go through this transition alone; especially with a small child on my hip.

Needless to say, now that I am in my mid-forties, I am beginning to feel new again; still exhausted and confused, but none-the-less like a butterfly coming out of her cocoon. I can almost feel it; the way it feels to fly. I can almost smell the freedom of older age; not caring so-much how I look but more-so how I feel about ‘me’. It’s funny really, when I look in the mirror I see my face aging…like it’s almost overnight, since I feel some days like I’m still in my twenties. I even forget at times that I’m no longer a child. I guess that’s one of the many blessings of having a late-in-life baby; she keeps me feeling young. On days when I’m feeling low, I still have to keep going. I’m not allowed to sit and be a mope. That’s a good thing! I’m forced to stay afloat, no matter how much I feel like I’m sinking in the every day day-to-day.

I find ways to renew myself. Like lately, I’ve been learning to play my mandolin; the one I’d originally bought for Hubby to play…since he’s the Guitarist. Even still, it’s been about 4 months since I first picked it up…just to fool around and see what kind of sound I could make. To my pleasant surprise, it just seems to fit the new me. I’ve come a long way–according to Hubby–in a very short time; writing, composing, and playing my own songs and blending new sounds into songs we’ve already recorded. Gypsy Vin Rose is our love-child duo; the music that stems from our love for each other, our beautiful daughter Nixi Vin-Rose, for love of life, travel, and just being in nature or flying down the highway in our old VW Van. All of this is what made us who we are as a family. And I’d say, the new me loves who she is becoming.

*Life Is New…Until It Is No More*

As you may have noticed, safety is a serious issue where we live. Those in charge of law enforcement, often can not be trusted. Then with the proximately of the Michaocan-Guanajuato border, there are the Michoacan bad guys that make raids in our area then skip back to their own territories. It’s hard to say who the bad guys are sometimes.

Up until this point, we drove our son to his class at 2 pm and picked him up at 6:30 pm on the moto. However, wishing to be more independent, he has decided that he would walk to school and back home. As he arrives after dark, I wait anxiously at the window until I see him trot around the corner. I worry about bullies or careless drivers, however there are more worrisome things than these here. My son has been subjected to random backpack searches by los Federales, (Federal police) on the way home from school. It makes me nervous to say the least, not that he might be carrying weapons or drugs, but that a frustrated Federal might take out his aggression on my little boy.

Gangs are also problematic, although I expect not as bad as say, Los Angeles, California, USA. Here we have Sur 13, Los Zetas (Z) and La Familia (the mafia). Most of Moroleón is controlled by Sur 13. For the most part, they are in the employ of Los Zetas or La Familia, in a sort of a dog-guard capacity. They don’t start trouble, but stand guard on the corners one of these groups wishes to have monitored. Periodically, they are sent as decoys for the Federales (Federal police) to come and hassle and pick up for petty drug-possession, while a bigger transaction occurs on the other side of town. Typically, they are compensated for their time in el bote (jail) and out on their corner watch the next day.

Being initiated into Sur 13 is as bad as you might see on TV. My husband’s nephew L, was inducted about 2 years ago and it nearly cost him his life. The 13 second beating by gang members that he was subjected to, damaged a good portion of his liver. A week or so later, after eating some particularly greasy chicharones (fried pig skin), his liver stopped functioning. He was taken to the Regional Hospital, where he was basically given up for dead. Only one doctor thought he could be saved because of his youth, just 17. The doctor had him transferred immediately to León, a state-of-the art hospital facility. L survived, however he has permanent liver damage.

Right now, my son is too young to be considered for gang membership. However, there are sort of junior gangs that hang about other corners, watching and learning from a distance. Obviously, in our family, this hanging about business is discouraged with liberal doses of study and work. Perhaps he might remember what happened to his cousin and if the time comes when he has such a decision to make, hopefully, he chooses a wiser course.

The next level up in the gang hierarchy are Los Zetas. They are found mostly across the border in Michoacan, but have their representation here. They are known for telephone extortion scams. They have contacts within the community, typically at banks and money-wiring places like Western Union. They use the information from these sources to make phone calls to those who recently received money from the US. They may say that one of the victim’s family members has been kidnapped, usually a daughter. Then they might have a female voice screaming or asking for her mommy in the background to prove that she has been kidnapped. If X amount of money is not deposited to X account by X time, then the family will not see her again. The fear occasioned has led to the defrauding of countless families.

Another ploy is that the person who answers the phone is the intended target. The caller may say that the victim is being watched, that their location and the location of their loved ones are known, and then begin asking leading questions in the hopes the victim may give away his or her present location. Again, the fear and intimidation are incredible leveraging tools and the victim is not only defrauded, but their sense of security shattered.

Phone safety has been repeatedly stressed at our home. My son is NOT to answer any unknown caller. His newly acquired phone is NOT to be shown even to his friends, but hidden away in the secret compartment of his backpack. He is NOT to spend all his saldo (pre-paid phone money) in case he needs to call one of us in an emergency. I hope it’s enough.

La Familia is the mafia and have branches wherever you might go in México. They are not the law, they are their own law. They have wealth and power and prestige. Reportedly, La Familia was the authority that had the traffic camera deactivated at the corner where my mother-in-law was killed. Her death was not mafia related, however this inactive traffic camera contributed to the subsequent cover-up by the police.

My husband’s youngest brother C is a gang member wanna-be. But if he really wanted to be, I expect he could go through the initiation just like the regular members, so maybe he is happy with his wanna-be status. He gets himself Sur 13 tattoos and talks big. This has caused him trouble. Once, while intoxicated, he threatened a member of Los Zetas with the wrath of La Familia. The Zeta backed down and left. Two days later, he was back. He ran C down with his truck, destroyed his moto, and put him in the hospital. Word on the street was he had investigated C’s boast, found that he was unknown to La Familia and decided he needed to be taught a lesson. C has since recovered, but doesn’t leave the house these days.

My husband’s sister’s young boyfriend has also been involved in gang activity. He isn’t so smart either and seems he had broken in and stolen items (most likely drugs) from a house owned by La Familia. He fled Moroleón and tried to cross the border to the US to avoid retribution and my husband’s sister went with him. They stayed away nearly a year. I’m not sure what deal was made, but eventually G was permitted to come back, tail tucked between his legs, and L came trotting along behind him.

Apparently, he didn’t learn so well the first time, because recently he has been warned again, this time with the removal of several of those ‘sticky’ fingers. He again tried fleeing, but was unsuccessful in escaping to the US.

Where I grew up, we didn’t have any sort of gangs, so really I haven’t a clue how to help my son make good choices with regard to gang membership and dealings. I have to trust that these examples his extended family has provided, and some perhaps his own classmates might yet provide, will keep him safe from harm. But things are just so uncertain and I worry.

Lazy Sunday at Botanic Gardens

Sundays at the Ndokweni household are sacred days, they are official family days which include attending church at Olive Tree Church at 10am (my mother taught me well) and then QT (quality time) with the family. Clive makes an effort to find different activities for us to do with the kids each week. Something he says my father shared with him… Ummm taking pointers from my old man I see.

La Familia loves outdoor activities; picnics at the gardens, beach outings, visits to animal farms, you name it we do it. So I’ll be posting pictures taken from the most recent place we took the kids, the Flag Animal Farm. What a smelly place it was but we had an awesome time.

How do we tell ourselves to live each day without getting too attached with our loved ones? I mean, we all know, that our parents/siblings/children/spouses are ‘gifts’ that lent by Allah. Theoretically, we know. But practically? I still find it a struggle to not have dependencies on fellow humans. I still reach out for my lovelies, sometimes bypassing the Creator of myself and my lovelies.

Sister Yasmin said, never go to the creation empty. Meaning do not expect that our parents or our partners to fulfill us. Because we will get disappointed again and again.

Like when we loved and was prepared to give our all in return. We should have given our all to the Al-Wadud first and foremost.

Like when we are in turmoil and felt so alone, there was no one coming in our direction to be by our side. We should have plead first to the As Sami’, the one who always listen and Al Qarib, the one who is nearest to us.

But we still dont get it, do we? I meant, me. It was faster and more comforting to reach out with a phone call or a text message. Thinking the creation will be there. Expecting the creation to understand. Hoping the creation will say the right things. And then.. Gaaahh, you were wrong!

They may not be reachable. They may not feel the deep cut you are facing. They may comfort you, but not enough.

Then what? Then we go begging, crying and asking from the Creator. After all failed, you come running to the Everything.

Those are just examples of how we are very much dependent on humans rather than Allah. Sometimes it feels like only lip service to say to our mothers or our siblings.. that we love them for the sake of Allah. Yet when the time comes for Allah to take them away from us, it takes our whole might to accept the parting for the sake of Allah too. Something to chew on.

Today we learned how to say our different parientes (relatives) in Spanish.
2013-02-11 Mi familia

As I observe the norm of the majority, I see that…like us, most folks in America and abroad tend to box themselves into a way of life that is rather impossible at times to maintain. Like trying to escape quicksand, the more they make the more they spend. I ask myself: why? It really makes no sense at all, yet most of us just keep on keeping on, like robots programmed to do something over and over and over again. Where’s the fun? Where’s the adventure? Where’s the…life, in that? Still…I see no reason to work one’s life away (the only one we get) for stuff and material possessions one might never get the time to enjoy. It’s the sad truth–the American way! For us, me and my family, it’s the wrong way.

Yesterday, my husband got up…had a bite to eat–a taco I had just made–and he went sailing. It was a beautiful morning to be on the water, moving along under power of the invisible. To me, there is nothing more exuberating than when the wind is coaxing us along on its wings, when we are being carried on the water by the mysterious force that has never been seen with the naked eye. Sailing is beautiful in-and-of itself; so peaceful, so powerful, so intoxicating. To me…sailing is really living!

Looking back through history, sailboats were a means to another seashore, the mode of transportation, the only mode of transport. The captain would chart his course, hoist the sails, and let the wind take him to where he needed to land. It wasn’t a sport, it was a way of life. I feel that modern way of life has lost its luster to much extent. The passion is gone, that certain ease of life is missing, we’ve yet to find that certain Kefi, the Greeks know so well. Like sailors of long-past-days, we have-yet to find our True North.

It’s really not as hard as it seems; all we must do is sit…think…feel. You see…? If you sit and allow your mind to wander, relax and see the things you love to do–a past place visited, a place you’ve been, something you’ve done or experienced–you’ll know you’ve found that one thing, or your true self when it all lines up. First the thought comes to mind, then your heart starts to race…you feel a rush of excitement, the adrenaline starts to pump, and you feel more alive…even younger! THAT is the thing for you; your true North.