lunes, 10 de mayo de 2021

Mama de 6 y 4 años

Este post lo leí por ahí y lo reescribí un poco, y lo hice mío


El tiempo y la relatividad. El tiempo se siente lento cuando las cosas parecen difíciles, y parece acelarar cuando se está disfrutando al máximo.

El tiempo, poco a poco, me libera de la extenuante fatiga de tener hijas pequeños. De las noches sin dormir y de los días sin reposo. De las manos gorditas que sin parar me agarran, me escalan por mi espalda, me cogen, me rebuscan sin restricciones ni vacilaciones. Del peso que llena mis brazos y dobla mi espalda. De las voces que me llaman y no permiten retrasos, esperas, ni vacilaciones. El tiempo me devolverá el ocio vacío de los domingos y las llamadas sin interrupciones, el privilegio y el miedo a la soledad. 

El tiempo, sin embargo, inexorablemente enfriará otra vez mi cama, que ahora está cálida de cuerpos pequeños. Volteará los ojos de mis hijos hacia otros lados, esos ojos que ahora desbordan su amor total por mí. Quitará de sus labios mi nombre gritado y cantado, llorado y pronunciado cien, mil veces al día. Cancelerá, poco a poco, la familiaridad de su piel con la mía, la confianza absoluta que nos hace un cuerpo único acostumbrados a mezclar nuestros estados de ánimo, el espacio, el aire que respiramos.

Pararán de imitarme, porque no querrán parecerse demasiado a mi. Dejarán de preferir mi compañía respecto a la de los sus amigos. Se difuminarán las pasiones, las rabietas y los celos, el amor y el miedo. Se apagarán los ecos de las risas y de las canciones.

Con el pasar del tiempo, mis hijas descubrirán que tengo muchos defectos y, si tengo suerte, me perdonarán alguno.
Sabio y cínico, el tiempo traerá consigo el olvido. Olvidarán, aunque yo no lo haré. Las cosquillas y las risas, los besos en los pies, en las axilas, los piojitos de media noche, y los llantos que poderosamente paran con un abrazo. Los viajes y los juegos, las caminatas y la fiebre alta. Los bailes, las historias y las caricias mientras nos dormimos despacio.

Mis hijas olvidarán que les he amamantado, mecidas durante horas, llevadas en brazos y de la mano. Que les he dado de comer y consolado, levantado después de cien caídas. Olvidarán que han dormido sobre mi pecho de día y de noche, que hubo un tiempo en que me han necesitado tanto, como el aire que respiran.

Olvidarán, porque esto es lo que hacen los hijos, porque eso es lo que el tiempo elige. Y yo, yo queriendo congelar momentos, tendré que aprender a vivir con los recuerdos que se desvancen, confiada y esperanzada en que todo ese tiempo con amor invertido, traiga fruto y una relación de amor perpetuo. 

lunes, 18 de mayo de 2020

Back to preschool

Today is the first day that Frida and Lena went back to preschool after 2 long months of self-isolation because of covid-19. They were very excited in the morning, shouting and jumping to be getting ready. Once we arrived Frida's schoolmates were chanting her name and she started getting nervous. It was like she was struggling to process it all. The most interesting part of it all was that since I woke up I had butterflies in my stomach, it was like the first day of school for myself. This COVID situation is taking a psychological toll on us all.

Staying home full time with my children and husband was hard, but today I was nervous and a bit sad that it was over. It was a strong bittersweet feeling of gaining time for myself and for working and losing the time with my loved ones.

domingo, 3 de mayo de 2020

I clearly remember ...

I clearly remember the moment I saw her for the first time. I remember the exact thoughts that crossed my mind, and there were so many of them. When our little girl first landed in my arms and made me a Mother, I could fully perceive the essence of life - and I am not exaggerating here. Suddenly you feel the universe squeeze into a tiny body right in front of you. Your ancient instincts wake up and you feel the constant urge to protect this little human. You feel the pain of all the mothers that have ever lost their children and of all the children that have never experienced being loved by their mothers like that. And you instantly make a decision to pour all the love you carry in yourself into your baby just because no alternative is possible for you any more...

I'm learning

We have been on self isolation for 2 months now due to covid-19. What this means among others is that my children are not being exposed to Swedish language. Instead they only hear Spanish from me, German from their dad and English from when we parents speak to each other and from Paw Patrol. Their Spanish and German development clearly started flourishing since week 2 of self isolation. However, their English development is only flourishing lately. In fact today I was having a chat with my oldest daughter and she was telling me about exercising to become stronger and about how making videos would help us remember things in the future. She then told me about how showering with hot water will make her "sweaty". And indeed she was speaking to me in Spanish but used the word sweaty in English. I asked her if she wanted to know how to say it in Spanish and I asked her if she would like it if we would speak English to each other. To which she replied, that Spanish was her favourite language and that she wanted to keep learning. "I am still learning mom" ... and that she learned from me :)

miércoles, 14 de marzo de 2018

First day of forskola 2.0

Today was Lena's first day of preschool. Such a bitter sweet day.


I felt happier than sad, mostly because she is attending the group where Frida used to go just a few months ago. The main teacher there (Songul) is wonderful. She even called me two days ago to let me know what time I should drop by and to tell me she was excited to have me as a mother of one of her group again. She said she missed me <3 I also missed her, so somehow I feel like Lena is going there to adoptive family. Really lovely people (Songul, Moa and Ozlem).




The morning was bright cloudy, and cold. There is still a lot of snow. We first dropped Frida next doors and then went together with Lena to her new classroom (radjuret). Songul greeted us in Swedish. It is quite nice to be able to understand most of the Swedish that is spoken there (however, my speaking Swedish is still quite slow). Lena was at first interested in the books, she then looked at the fish in the tank, then a few objects. Her favourite object was the little empty jar of spices. We had a really lovely time.


Towards the end of our stay there, Lena decided to go and explore on her own. She explored the bathroom and decided to wash her hands and play with water together with another child.

I think it was quite a successful first day in forskola.

jueves, 18 de enero de 2018

Motherhood wisdom

A post shared by Sarahi L. Garcia (@sarilog) on

In the last days I have heard so much crying. SO much crying!
Children were sick, my mother was angry, and I just had my heart broken.

I was mostly grieving the loss of a relationship I thought I had with my mother. Since I am an adult I have been very open to her, and I told her so many things about what I thought, about how I wanted to live my life, how I wanted to educate my children. She mostly listened. For years she listened and refused to say what she thought. I don't know how it somehow did not occur to me that she remained silent because she did not want to fight with me. Because she disagreed with me. And maybe because her life did not lead her to a place where she could understand me. So she finally exploded, and she told me that she tried to take it all, to compromise in silence so we could have a good relationship. But here I am thinking that actually that was not a relationship. That was me just talking. How naive was I to believe that me talking was a relationship.

Ahhh!!!! there is so much in my head that wants out and I can't find the words or make sense of it
but the last days have been so so hard.

Fortunately, because my mental health is better than ever, I somehow feel like all this hardness is hitting me differently than it used to. I am no longer looking for the approval my mom refuses to give. I am growing and learning from it all. It is like I go to bed thinking about all the pain and then I wake up wiser than the day before. Wiser about motherhood I mean.

So with all the crying, and crying. For the first time in my life I was able to think clearly despite the crying. I can understand how hard life is. How it only gets more complicated. How hard everybody must have it. How I should not judge or feel superior nor inferior to anybody. How I believe I should just live a life I can enjoy, be content with what I have, be grateful for everything and look for the positive in anything.

I now know I have the biggest gift of it all. I have the privilege and the responsibility to choose how I live every moment in my life. I can make a decision every morning, every afternoon, every evening and every day. I choose to enjoy and be grateful!

miércoles, 20 de diciembre de 2017

The reasons why socialising gets a little more complicated with small children


Modified after Christine Skoutelas

Keep in mind we’re not upset about these things; we are not complaining about our choice to raise our little ones. Basically, when it comes to friendships, parents of young children are forced to hunker down and encase themselves in a protective cocoon in order to preserve their energy, like some spore that can withstand the harshest of elements.

1. The children’s schedule is more important than one would think. Turns out children need to eat, drink, move, sleep and poop. Every day of the year. And, for the most part, it really DOES make a difference when, where and how these events occur. This means that the noon lunch dates, 4 p.m. coffee dates or dinners out at any time are really, really hard to swing. Yes, sometimes we can do it, but when we do, we are pushing it, so we tend to save up these moments for holidays, vacations or other special occasions. Even if it works out OK, and we/our child make it look easy, it leaves us exhausted because it basically gives us a heart attack worrying about whether or not our selfish choice will result in having to calm our child who is screaming like mad and/or having to clean urine or feces off in public.

2. Children put their parents on a schedule of their own. Parents usually blame schedules solely on their children, but the truth is, we now have a schedule, too. Before we get to work, we are already several hours into our day. When the children nap, we clean the kitchen or the bathroom or fold the laundry. Once the children go to sleep, we may or may not get to any of the items on our to-do list, bills, home improvement projects, workouts, or any of the other things normal people do on a day-to-day basis (that are virtually impossible to do while the children are awake), before we basically collapse in a useless heap on the couch. Yes, we know it’s only 8:30 p.m. And, yes, we’re TOAST. If we do see you outside of our typical schedule, particularly in the evening hours, take it as a huge compliment. We’re still getting up at the ungodly hour we always do the next morning, and are unable to make up that extra energy we are expending for the next 18 years or so.

3. We like hanging out with our children. And if we work outside the home, we feel like our time with them is very limited. Going out to dinner could mean not seeing our child all day; going away for the weekend could mean not seeing our child for 80 percent of the week (that we are not working and they are awake). Seemingly boring activities, like stacking cups, singing the ABCs, pushing a little one on a swing or even simply eating a meal with the children, have turned into some of our favourite moments. Even if you see our child act like a total terrorist, crying every five minutes or bouncing off the walls like a human pinball, there are more instances than you can imagine that result in us smiling the biggest smiles, laughing the loudest laughs or otherwise NOT being annoyed with our own offspring. This can be hard to imagine, I know.

4. “Just bring the children” is an option. But it is one that sucks. Even though we thoroughly enjoy our time at home, we want to see you, too. We really do. Even so, we often decline invitations to your fun events, not because they don’t sound like a blast in general, but because we know, for us, they just won’t be fun. This is not because YOU aren’t fun. You are a riot. (Do you hear us? We really do think this, even if we neglect to express this enough.) We just can’t focus on you very well when we have to simultaneously keep an eye on our children, making sure they don’t choke, drown in a randomly placed vat of water or get a head injury bumping into the pointy corner of a table. We spend a lot more time and energy worrying about keeping our brood alive than you might imagine. A lot of times we host events you don’t get invited to. Again, this isn’t because YOU aren’t fun — it’s because our events aren’t fun, at least not for most adults. They are loud, obnoxious and strategically located where there are wide open spaces or playscapes that allow toddlers to run and bounce off padded surfaces and screaming like banshees.

5. Seemingly benign household chores suddenly seem to consume our lives. Things we used to think were nothing now seem to take over everything. Washing, drying, scrubbing, cooking. I still haven’t figured out how one or two tiny little humans result in thirty-five times the number of dishes, laundry loads and crumbs on the floor, but they do. Chores that we used to be able to put off until we felt like doing them now Must. Be. Done. Immediately. If they wait, we fear our house might implode, much like a black hole, from the massive amount of grime and toys and dirty dishes concentrated in one place. To top it off, feeding and housing small children results in such an exponential increase in clutter and dirt.

6. Children go to sleep pretty early. Which means we have to leave events even earlier, or we miss attending them altogether. It’s easy to look at our children and say, “Oh, they don’t even look tired!” — and you’d be right. That’s why we’re leaving NOW, before they have a total meltdown and lose it. We can preemptively sense these things, like some animals can sense earthquakes before they register on any seismograph.

7. Leisure time is so limited that we tend to spend it on ourselves (often by ourselves). Getting a manicure or a haircut or a taking a trip to the gym requires creative scheduling, and everything else in our life to go according to plan — our spouse’s engagements, our children’s health, work obligations. A lot of our hobbies end up being things we can do at any hour of the day, on our own time, by ourselves: jogging, reading, writing or activities that can be done just as well at 3 a.m. or 3 p.m. The demands of the social calendar scare us. If we’re going to fit in time to actually see another human being, it’s usually someone who can give us the most bang for our buck: a workout buddy or someone to chat with during a playdate, or, rarely, a meet-up with a pal who can completely de-stress us, who is totally on board with our entire excursion being completed within a 30- to 45-minute window. We do not have the time or energy for idle lingering.

8. Sometimes we just need to idly linger. OK, this might seem like I’m refuting my last point, but I’m really not. We’re spending so much energy carrying, wiping, toting, cleaning, chasing after, listening to, reasoning with, teaching and doing, that sometimes we need to just sit, in a quiet space, for 10 or 30 or 120 minutes in a row, for our own sanity, and for the safety of those around us. There is no sleeping in or afternoon napping or resting on the weekend, so these moments are critical to help our bodies and minds recover and recharge for the remainder of our day or week.