Death Calls For Me

I think one of the funniest creepers was the time I cared for a five year old boy. He used to be in my two year old class and, after I ran into his mother, I started caring for him. Bubba had a morbid curiosity with death and the afterlife; perhaps it was because of his movie interests, like “Beetlejuice.” We would discuss death and dying. He would ask me if “you could run from death” and of course I told him “no, but death won’t come for you until you’re tired of life…which is a LONG time from now.”

Another thing Bubba was notorious for was procrastinating before bedtime; the more you tried to get him in bed…the more he procrastinated and tried to push bedtime back. He could come up with the craziest ideas, like, “I never ate dinner. I have to eat dinner before bedtime.” We would do the entire checklist…

Dinner…Check

Snack…Check

Potty…Check

Teeth…Check

Story…Check

Nightlight…Check

Lights…Check

Sleep…Umm…

There are times I think he cannot come up with any zanier ideas. I shouldn’t doubt him.

We were getting ready for bedtime and I had just finished reading his preferred nighttime storybooks – two to be precise – one on Volcanoes and the other on The Human Body System. Have I already mentioned he’s five? As usual, we go through the checklist – before story time and after story time. Then, with adult discretion, I give him an opportunity to choose which lights he wants on. I avoid giving him the obvious choice, which is the main light that brightens the room more than the sun brightens the day, but I provide a choice for what he wants. This prevents him creating yet another excuse regarding it being too dark or too light. As I’m getting ready to walk out, he eerily whispers, “Shh. Listen.”

I listen to whatever he’s wanting me to hear. I can hear the train whistle blowing. The dogs are howling in tune to the train. The air conditioner getting set up to start its cooling cycle.

“What are we listening for?” I ask.

“Shh. Do you hear it?” He says as he slowly points to nowhere.

“What is it, Bubba?” I ask, again.

In the most quiet, unnerving tone…he responds, “It’s Death.”

“Bubba, it is not Death.”

“Yeah, it is. He is coming for me.”

“Bubba, Death is not coming for you.”

“No. I can’t sleep. He is going to come get me. I need to stay awake.”

“I’ll stand guard and, if I see Death, I’ll take him down.”

“You can’t do that.” He tells me with his eyes wide open.

“I can do a lot of things. You’re safe here. Now, go to bed.”

He cradles the covers in his arms and lets out a grunt, “Okay, fine.”

Yes, there are times I think he cannot come up with any zanier ideas and he surprises me.

…cheat death and join me for April Fool’s Day.

Are You Tired?

I am back! I have returned to share my thoughts and stories with my readers – consisting of my mom and brother –due to the fact that my mind is restless and I find it easier to sleep after I put my thoughts into the black hole of the internet. At some point, I believe that most, if not all, people find a moment of difficulty sleeping, because of thoughts running through their mind. Why do we do this to ourselves?

One of the most common solutions to this problem is known by most and shared by counselors, psychiatrists, and all docs alike…we all know this trick. What is this common trick? Take a notepad, put it by your bed and write down all of your thoughts at night. You can do the same with your dreams. As you wake up, write your dreams down before you forget them…but I digress. Now, this is a wonderful technique that, I’m sure, may work for many people. However, I failed to succeed in my many attempts of writing down my thoughts before bed. I would begin and, if it were a blog thought, I would end up writing the entire blog and falling asleep later than I had originally planned. Another situational effect would be my forgetfulness and how it played into writing the note. “Don’t forget to (insert important action here).” What is to remind me to check my notepad in the morning? “Don’t forget to check notepad.” Well, that doesn’t do any good.

So, off to method two, tie a yellow ribbon around the finger. Actually, it’s a string…and it can be any color, but doesn’t that remind you of that song (sung by Tony Orlando)? I’ve got it in your head, now. Haven’t I? You’ll be humming it all day and trying to get it out of your head at night before you sleep. Just let the music in your head soothe you to sleep…did I discover a method three?

Back to method two, not only have I seen purple fingers in my day of tying a string to remind me of something I need to remember, but I have also forgotten what the string was for. “Now what is it that I’m supposed to remember? Why did I tie this string around my finger?” Of course, we mustn’t forget the pièce de résistance, “What in the world is this string doing on my finger?!?” Method two is a no-go on many levels. More importantly, just hold on to those fingers rather than having them fall off due to lack of circulation and forgetting why they fell off in the first place.

The foundation underneath much of the late-night conversations with your rampant mind is usually stress related or worry. For me, I worry that I will forget important things. Yes, many of the things we worry about are important bills, family, friends, and etcetera. However, what good does all that worry do? We make ourselves stressed and lose sleep. In the morning, we find it difficult to wake up. We spend our time wandering through daily rituals tired and fatigued. Then, we can’t think properly when trying to find a solution to what we were worried about. We go to bed worried about the decision we made and so starts the rotation again. What a vicious cycle!

Positive actions do come from worrying; however, when it consumes your life…or your sleep, it’s not so great. So, why do we worry? To cover all aspects of something; avoid surprises, expect the unexpected, having an answer to anything? Most psychology will explain that worry has an underlying fear. I’m afraid that my life will not turn out like I planned if I forget important things. This is definitely a type of fear that is relevant, but still does not help us realize how important it is to sleep.

So now what? I rock your world…that’s what. I’m about to delve into the depths of your psyche and shake things up to make sure you can no longer sleep for the rest of your life. That is, until you realize I’m right and you follow through…

We are peeling an onion. Just how that big green guy described it from that copyrighted movie…named after himself. Here’s a hint: His name starts with a “Sh” and rhymes with “wreck.” Yes, we are peeling an onion. We couldn’t sleep…we worry…because we fear…

We fear, because we have no control over what may happen. We want to control things. So, we worry and stress to come up with as many solutions for what may or may not happen as a form of control. I want to control where my life is headed and when I will reach my life goals. I want control over how many readers will choose to follow my blog and comment. I want control over the uncontrollable! “I am She-Ra!” Does that help me? I didn’t think so.

So, what do we do? We let go. We understand that we can only have power over our actions and we cannot solve the worlds’ problems in a night. We realize that goals change, people change and nothing we do can change things back. We realize that…if we cannot change the outcome, we change how we view that outcome. Only then can we get a restful night. Easier said than done, right?

…sending controlling thoughts to make you come back March 30th.

Don't Eat Standing Up

I always try to set wide boundaries for the kids I care for. Many of the common issues are found through power struggles between adult and child (or children) due to the rebellion against close-set boundaries. I try to ask myself, before addressing an issue, “Is this necessary?” “Am I imposing my wants or needs upon the child?” “Will the child be a danger to himself or herself?” So on, so forth…and, of course, all these questions must be asked and answered within milliseconds before an issue. There are some exceptions, however. For example, when I do home child care, I take a lot of free-reign, but if a parent is adamant or the family culture dictates differently…I need to respect the parent’s wishes and value their familial cultural diversity.

In one instance, I looked at the child. In a typical setting, I wouldn’t normally care. However, Leianya has a tendency of not having the foresight of what may occur. Most children are similar to Leianya. She had been eating snack while walking. As adults, many of us graze while walking or driving, but we are adults. The last thing I wanted was for her to choke while walking or fall and choke on her food. Plus, family rules, you eat at the table.

Leianya is very much like me…especially during my younger days. Even now, I find myself saying or doing similar things that Leianya had done or will probably do in the future. So, when I address issues, I have to be very careful to see if it’s just our personalities clashing or if this is a real issue to address.

I started to talk to her about walking while eating and directing her to the dining room table. As usual, my Miss. Diva refuted the thought. After all, I’m old enough to make judgments on our personality differences, but she just knows that it “bugs me.” So, rather than taking a mature, adult-like approach…what was my response?

“You need to sit down when you eat or your toes are going to get fat!” I told Leianya .

Shocked, Leianya questioned me, “What happens if I sit down? Will my toes not get fat?”

“No…your butt will. Do you want fat toes or a fat butt???” I responded.

After much thought, still standing, examining the situation, Leianya responded, “The food will get my butt fat, but then I can poop it out.”

“Sure.” I chuckled. By this time, she had lightened my mood with her brilliant idea.

Still testing me, she continued eating while standing. I looked at her and asked, “How do you think you’ll get the food out from your fat toes?” I pointed to her toesies. “There’s no opening there.” I continued, “We’re going to have to cut them open.”

Her eyes grew large and she traveled slowly to the table. By this time, her older sister, Josefina – beginning to crack up laughing at the entirety of the situation– chimed in… “Erica! Stop teasing.”

Leianya, with a smile, “Are you teasing? My toes aren’t really going to get fat?”

“Yes, I’m teasing…but you still need to eat at the table.” I said.

To think, I’ve been taking care of these two for four years and they still want me back.

…I want you back March 20th.

It's in the blood...

I sit, in front of my computer screen, with the hopes that something, anything, will magically appear and provide readers with some food for thought or some profound insight on, well, anything. I sit here thinking of what I can write as a first-time blogger that will illuminate aspects of the thoughts in my mind; while, at the same time, writing material that provides something deeper than an account of a personal diary. I imagine writing something to inform, motivate, and entertain readers and I would hope to find, with any luck, that my efforts aren’t in vain and my writings aren’t being sent into the black hole of cyberspace. Realistically, however, I know that my followers would equal less than what I can count on one hand and they would, more than likely, be my family members.

When I first told my mom about the blog, she asked me, “Well, is it interesting?” Seeing that I first planned putting photos, teasers and various email forwards I had received…I told her, “I’m not sure.” It was to my surprise to find that she not only supported this blogging idea of mine, but she also had recommendations. My mom told me I should write about something that I know. I should write about something I am good at. She suggested I write about my kids…the students I have taught and children I have cared for throughout the years.

Our family is very close-knit and we have always believed family comes first. My grandma had been working with me on instilling her family values and beliefs before I came out of my mom’s womb. She always emphasized the importance of the matriarchal blood line and how important it is for the women to be connected. I am the only granddaughter and it is important to know how valuable I am as a female. “It is our blood that gets passed from my mom to me…then to your tía and your mom…and to you.” My grandma would constantly remind me. That was her reasoning for everything. She has always used that as the foundation for any discussion combined with a concluding argument that involved us as a collective whole:

01. If I didn’t want to follow my mom’s rules, it’s in the blood…“we have to listen.”

02. If I wanted to break away and create my own identity, it’s in the blood…“we are all the same and need to stick together.”

03. If I wanted to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge…“you’d be splattering all of our blood.”


I think one of the most memorable “blood lessons,” began when I hit sixteen. She would tell me, “It’s very important, when you have a baby, to have a girl. We need to continue our blood. You’re the only girl. So, it’s up to you to have a baby girl, because you’re our only granddaughter. Don’t have one now…you’re too young, but later you need to have a baby girl.” …as if I could dictate what sex my child would be. She has cut back on that specific lecture. With me hitting twenty-nine, I think she has given up on that “lesson.”

My brief blog conversation with my mom was very insightful. I have always followed her lead. I always tried to do something she approved of and then failed miserably, because, despite our blood line, my mom and I think very differently. I’ve changed my major seven times, at least, in an attempt to please her and, yet, I found myself back in education. It took my mom a few years to notice, yes, being an educator is not a choice…it is a calling. I realized that she accepted my calling and supported my endeavors in education. I, also, interpreted that she encouraged the blogging idea, making it easier for me to pursue this secret aspiration of mine.

I am now here…in the moment. I had no clue what to write about, but I have my blog written. It definitely illuminated thoughts that crossed my mind. Is it insightful? I guess you could say it provides some insight on my personal history. Did I provide something deeper than an account of a personal diary? Hmm. I’m not sure about that one. Although, I am glad that I will have more opportunities to grow as a blogger and, with time, perhaps things will become deeper, informative, motivational and entertaining.

...I vant to see you back March 10th.