Payback?

When did I become my parents? I find myself, more and more, saying the same things to my kids, using the exact same tone of voice. The things my parents would harp on when I was little... sitting up straight, saying excuse me, keeping things neat. You know, those stupid parent things. Well, now I'm the stupid parent. When did that transformation take place? It's a scary thing. Maybe it's some sick joke being played on me by the Universe. A punishment for all the times I rolled my eyes at my parents. Pretty soon I'll be talking about how I used to walk to school, barefoot. In the snow. In June.

A Little Glitter

Today, with lots of my own homework to do, I ended up spending most of the day making a solar system diarama. Gabriela and I painted the inside of a cardboard box black while José painted the eight planets. Yes, eight planets. When I made MY solar system diarama in elementary school, there were nine. Poor Pluto, though, has been downgraded. My, how things change.

I had to fight the instinct to do it all myself, making the proportion of planets to Sun perfect, etc. It wasn't MY project. And if it took a little longer waiting for José to tie the fishing line to the metal hooks, so be it. That's what Sunday afternoons are for.

Highlight of the day? As Gabi and I made stars out of glitter (every project needs a little glitter), José said, "I love my family." I do, too. I really do.

English Only

José and Gabriela came to live with us in May of 2008. Knowing that they'd start school in September, we did everything we could to get them to start learning English. TV in English. Movies in English. They spoke to me in Spanish, and I replied in English. They hated it. They'd had enough change. They didn't want to learn a new language too.

José, curious, acute, and mechanically-minded as he is, figured out how to change the language on the DVD to Spanish when I wasn't looking. Gabriela, younger and the less mechanically-minded of the two, didn't figure out José's trick. To this day, she hasn't figured it out. So, she watched Cinderella, one of the only movies in English she could tolerate, over and over and over again. She scrubbed the floor like Cinderella. When Cinderella danced with the Prince, Gabriela would twirl around the room holding a broom. Never saying anything. Just watching and dancing.

That is, until one night I asked her to brush her teeth. "Gabriela, tienes que lavarte los dientes," I told her. "It's time to go to bed." No response. "Gabriela." Nothing. "Gabriela!" Swiftly she turned to me and, with one hand on her hip and her eyes pointed at me like little daggers, she said, in the most perfectly enunciated English, "Yes, Stepmother!"

Becoming an Adult

Three years ago, at the age of 29, I finally felt like I was becoming a responsible adult. Gone were my crazy 20s when the only other living thing in my apartment was whatever was growing in the lonely take-out container in the fridge. After years of living by myself, I had moved in with my partner, Mateo. We grocery shopped. I even cut coupons. Responsible, I'm telling you. A real adult.

Mateo had two kids that lived in Mexico, José (age 6) and Gabriela (age 4). I knew that from the start. And I saw how painful it was for him not to be with them. He got depressed a lot. It got pretty bad one day, so I decided he needed a distraction. In my infinite wisdom, I took him to see a movie. Under the Same Moon. If you haven't seen it, it's a great movie. About a little boy in Mexico who misses his mother who's working in the United States. Not the best distraction, needless to say. Three days later Mateo was on a plane to Mexico to get his kids.

José and Gabriela came to live with us. Full-time. In the span of six weeks, I went from finally feeling I could take care of myself to being responsible for the lives of two children. Those first days, weeks and months were quite an adjustment. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm still adjusting.