"Calma la envidia que me tienes..."

Okey. Ya tengo la escoba y el palo'e piso. Tengo la salsa de Rubén Blades. Sólo me falta el aparato televisor para tener la(s) novela(s) de rigor, y saber bailar salsa y boleros. Y un esposo panzón que tome cerveza e invite a sus amigos a ver futból mientras yo les sirvo las boquitas y los tragos.

Number four. My new brain comes with instructions. It says here that my new brain can help me dream up a fantasy. Mine is: I'm laying down, or cuddled or whatever, on a COMFORTABLE chair, couch, bed...whatever. It's just comfortable. So my lower back doesn't hurt at all. Not even a little bit. I am at a Costa Rican beach (preferably in Guanacaste, so it doesn't rain). In the sun, but in the shade, a sort of shade that lets the sun in. I'm alone, but I am not lonely. Or scared. Or lost. I belong. I am loved. But I am alone. No one's coming soon. No one needs anything. Everyone's fine. No one needs anything from me. The baby is fed and will not need to eat for a very long time, the house (which house?) is clean and the dishes are washed, the laundry is done.

And I just lay there... sleep-thinking.

My fantasy would have this soundtrack

"Antes tenía tanto y para todos
antes tenía tanto y para todos

Antes tenía ahora deseo
antes había ahora espero" Antes, Julieta Venegas

--The End--

Someone turn the volume down on this baby.

Numberthree. Try this line of reasoning: I need to get out of my brain. If only I could get a new brain that would tell me: "relax, everything is completely fine. Your seven year old son is not throwing these weird, unheard-of-before tantrums, he's not hurting and offending you without really knowing he is able to, every afternoon with him when he gets home from school does not have some moments of intensity that make you want to: a. drop everything and run like a madwoman down the sunny street, or b. drink six beers, like the other day."

"Relax", says my new brain. "Your son is not coughing his tonsils out every night since the weather got nicer {he is NOT coughing as you write, although you already gave him medicine}, which makes your husband suggest he stay home for a day to rest. Your husband does not make a deal with your kid about certain things he has to do if he's allowed to stay home, and then is not around to make sure he complies with the deal, leaving you with that responsibility..."

My new brain also tells me things like "of course there is an easy way to make your son stop throwing tantrums when he has never done that in his life!", when the factors that stress him out cannot be removed: like having so many changes in his life in just one year, like the way the school system is designed here, with so little time to socialize, to get rid of energy and to eat; like the way he has to spend so much time doing homework at home when he already spent so much time in school; like the way he has no friends his age, no independent social life like he used to have; like having a new sister that his mom has to spend a lot of time with, like having a graduate student for a father, a father with many time constraints as well...

My brain tells me that all the very carefully thought out, earnest and self sacrificing efforts we have made to make sure he is happy are working, I'm just imagining things when I think they are not. And then my brain says: "relax, you are not getting fatter, your university application was not denied, so you do not have to come up with a new plan for making your life in this country meaningful, exciting and fulfilling for yourself, you guys are not running out of money, you do not have to come up quickly with an illegal/interesting way of making money because your visa does not let you work in this country, and you did not just spend twenty four dollars at a lousy restaurant tonight, trying to relax and not have to cook, only to have the food stink and the baby cry all through dinner. Your husband is not finishing his semester at school, he is not almost breaking down from exhaustion and worry every time you feel bad. He does not tell you, so for sure it is not hard at all for him to concentrate on studying and writing papers and keeping up the A's with everything that is going on at home... but nothing to speak of is going on at home to begin with anyways... So...

...wtf was it we were worried about?"

{Game-show-host voice again} Welllllcome ladiessssss, to your new brains!!! There is one for every line of taste, from whimsical to perky to simple, plain brain-dead. Take your pick. You are welcome to try any of these brains out for a couple of weeks, and if not completely satisfied, you can always switch to another model that will better suit your needs. Whichever one you choose, we can guarantee that it WILL make your housewifing lives onehundredpercent easier, take our word for it, that's onehundredpercent.

Book cont'd

Numberone. Come to grips with the fact that even though you may be a great cook, a great mom and a great house cleaner, that might NOT actually make you happy... I always used to think that if you tried hard enough and did a good job at whatever you were supposed to do, and it all came out ok, then the happiness that came from giving it your best shot was enough to make your day. Well... Surprise!!! It isn't. Homemaking is just not my cup of tea... It's not something that's "so easy to do that anyone can do it". I can honestly say that I have given housewifing my best effort. And I can honestly say that I am not happy.

Numbertwo. Come to grips with the non-understandable fact that you are unhappy with homemaking even though it's a shared job. Understand your guilt at not being happy even if you are not carrying the load alone, even if it is equally and justly divided in two. Even if your husband is very untypical and a great homemaker who enjoys homemaking. Understand you have the right to this unhappiness, understand it's ok to be selfish sometimes. Cause that's all it is. Downright selfishness.

Book

"Excuse me ma'am" {(or miss), depending on if with baby or not}, "may I help you?"

"I'm looking for a book called 'Being a Housewife: How to Stay Sane and Off Drugs'?"

"Oh, I'm sorry ma'am, we don't carry that line of self-help anymore, nobody was interested."

"Ok, thanks". Maybe I'll just write it myself. Maybe during the 15 mins. a day that I actually have to myself. Maybe during the nights-dawns-early mornings... What the heck, I'm insane already anyway... could lack of sleep really make it any worse? For starters: there would NOT be a young, thin and energetic looking model on the cover.

{Gameshow-host voice} Heeeellouuuuuu ladies and welllllcome to your self-help How-to-Stay-Sane-and-Off-Drugs-While-Being-a-Homemaker-book. If it's Winter and it gets dark where you live, brace yourself and look elsewhere for help. If it's Springtime, then we might just have a thing or two for you. {Well, that's a great start. Now the baby's crying. I should time these time-for-yourself-sessions...}

and I watched movies on the computer...

for the rest of my life.... but the sex was great

"Daddy drinks because I cry..."

It looks funny on a t-shirt. sometimes, just sometimes, it's true. and sometimes, just sometimes, it's mommy.

"My actions make me beautiful..."

"...And dignify the flesh

Me. I am free. I am free."

Falls to Climb REM

Hi! My name is MADNESS, and this is your wake up call...

Cómo volver a la "vida", cómo tener una "normalidad" luego de ver la tragedia a los ojos, y esquivarla por algún azar. Cómo verme a los ojos sin sentir que no merezco este volver a nacer, este volver a ser con mi familia intacta. La vida tiene maneras de recordarte, en segundos, que no todo está dado, y que cada respiro que damos, cada respiro que dan los seres que amamos tanto, es una de DOS posibilidades. Nos recuerda de vez en cuando -muy de vez en cuando en mi caso- que la muerte acompaña de cerca a la vida, y que con el nacimiento se abren las puertas de la muerte. Quien más de cerca conoce a la vida, es la muerte misma, porque la acompaña, como una sombra, cada segundo de su existencia.

El domingo a las 4:10 pm, envejecí mil años...

Each one's healing process is different. Hope my brain lets me pretend it was all a nightmare and not something that actually happened.

Don't wake me with so much...