Last night at the dinner table Tigo was clapping out syllables to all our names. He is learning a little grammar in school and parts of words so that, that is probably what gave the rythmic inspiration. As he went around the table saying everyone's names, he used their legal, official, names. I think he did this, mostly because we almost all have a nick-name that we go by and our birth certificate names have more syllables.
By the time he got to Lola, she cut him off.
"don't call me that"
"but it's your name"
"don't call me that"
"but it's your name"
"Lola is my name, I am not in pain."
When I was growing up, I had numerous conversations like this with my brother. Or on the first day of school with a new teacher, or when there was a substitute. I swore up, down, left, right that I would never ever name my kids one thing and call them another. As I've gotten older, I have discovered that best way to end up doing something is by swearing under sacred oath that you will never do it.
So anyhow, her name is Dolores. Which means pain in Spanish. Or quite literally more than one pain. Multiple pains. I didn't quite put it together before it became official on her birth certificate. Or maybe I did, and just ignored it. It's definitely a practice that needs to occur with every pregnant family when deciding on name options for their unborn child. The practice of determining the side effects or potential name-calling tactics by school mates on certain chosen names.
How can the name be changed to be made fun or to become annoying.
Lola was named after her grandmothers. First name Dolores after her paternal grandmother and Lynne, the middle name, after her maternal grandmother. Lynne was a middle name and I wanted to keep it that way. I also never ever had intented (though never publicly denounce or stated that I wouldn't) use Dolores, that she would always be Lola. Lola Lynne. Maybe a country music star one day. Probably not if she has my singing genes, at least.
Dolores is also the name of Elmer's hometown. Grandmother, hometown, old school classic name. No doubt it had meaning and it was meant to be. Now she states she wants to change her name. The same way that I wanted to change my name from legal name of 4 generations of legacy to something different than what it was, is. Something known.
Now, I can often look back and determine how well I know a person, by what they know of my name. If they know my full name, they likely have known me for a long time, or they are a cold caller trying to sell me something.
It seems when you know the history behind how things, or a person, got their name, how they came to be you know them much better. A secret, that is not really a secret, just something that doesn't necessarily need to be talk about.
When I finally turned 18, I had no intention of changing my name. I still regularly struggle with trying to figure out the best name to use at the doctor's office or signing papers for my kids. Quite honestly it took me a long time and a bit of emotional turmoil to change my name after I got married.
Only time will tell whether Lola will still want to change her name when she is 18. Whether the importance of history is more important or the ease of removing some pain overrides.
She will always be Lola to me though.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
My camera broke but that's ok. Sort of.
Between my camera breaking yesterday and looking through all the years pictures I'm getting a bit nostalgic for the recently past and all the events of my life.
There are so many things that I love about the holidays and December. Of course there are plenty of things I don't like too, but right now let's focus on the good. Like I said, there are so many things that I love about the holidays. It's a time of year when I force myself to look back on the year. I am mostly doing that because I am trying to find just the right photo of my kids. Of course one of the kids often has a silly smirk or is poking her brother and pinching his sister, but that's all in love right? But honestly, I stop for a little while and reflect of the year as a whole and realize just as the cold winter blues are starting to set in, just how blessed I am, and just how amazing our life is.
Of course there are the ups and downs and struggles, etc... but I like to take pictures. Probably too many pictures sometimes. But I was trained through grueling post-Thanksgiving photo taking sessions before the age of digital cameras when photos could be viewed, shared and instantly emailed to the person sitting next to you. The photo sessions involved all of us lined up. With the matriarch and patriarch in the middle. The youngest ones sitting closest to the oldest and the middle generations stuck on the edge. Mostly the then middle generation, was on the edge as they were the ones running back and forth to the cameras that are now thought to be from the middle ages. (Remember when you had to advance the camera's film manually to the next frame for the camera to work.) But ahh yes, the memories, even with out actually seeing the photos from the different Thanksgiving. Every year the pictures look the same. Altering the living room depending on which aunt hosted and sometimes a special showing by one of my mom's boyfriends or a cousin that lived across the country. We were all so close then generally. It was an anomally for one someone not to show. Now, I think of all my cousins and we cover every US time zone, and then include that Canadian one that comes before EST way out there in the Atlantic.
But I regress...
Christmas also forces me to look through all my photos from the year and see all the great things I have experienced with my kids. Trust me, there aren't smiles in all these pictures. Of course it's always more fun to take pictures when there is a happy crowd, but we have plenty of healthy fits documented on my digital memory. Some get erased, others are used for blackmail. That's what family is about right? Forgive, forget, or blackmail... oh I'm not sure.
But this year also leads me to be nostalgic of the Christmas's past and the traditions I had, the ones I am desperately trying to recreate for my kids, the ones I can't ignore, the ones I must have ignored because I just can't recall them (what happened in 1990, the slate is blank...) and the one I'm living right now. Of course when you pick up your life and move across the country to what might as well be another country one gets nostalgic for things not here. That happens.
Again, I regress.
I am grateful. I am blessed. I am crazy, but I'm happy. I am struggling but I am living. I have the most amazing kids and fabulous husband. We are not perfect, but I love them and the life we are living. Day to day I may lose my mind, but on the whole, I wouldn't have it any other way.
And then of course we have all the moments in between that no camera is ever present. How is it I don't stop to take a picture of Tigo building his Legos. I'm not documenting the event that occurs as ritual every morning noon and night. Finished products sometimes, but Legos are such a work in progress we don't have finished products much. There is a lot of "look at what it is now" and "what do you think it needs more?"
There's not a camera at the school drop off in the morning where I kiss the kids good by and secretly want to hold them a few more minutes everyday even as I fight to tell them how important it is to be on time to school.
There's not a camera when I tuck them into bed at night or sit on the floor reading Harry Potter to them as they beg for one more chapter even though it's an hour past their bedtime.
And there is certainly not a camera when Azalea screams when she sees a cockroach, but I know it's a memory she will remember.
I guess there are the events and the traditions or just daily rituals and they are all wonderful and all sacred.
And I am so blessed to have it all.
There are so many things that I love about the holidays and December. Of course there are plenty of things I don't like too, but right now let's focus on the good. Like I said, there are so many things that I love about the holidays. It's a time of year when I force myself to look back on the year. I am mostly doing that because I am trying to find just the right photo of my kids. Of course one of the kids often has a silly smirk or is poking her brother and pinching his sister, but that's all in love right? But honestly, I stop for a little while and reflect of the year as a whole and realize just as the cold winter blues are starting to set in, just how blessed I am, and just how amazing our life is.
Of course there are the ups and downs and struggles, etc... but I like to take pictures. Probably too many pictures sometimes. But I was trained through grueling post-Thanksgiving photo taking sessions before the age of digital cameras when photos could be viewed, shared and instantly emailed to the person sitting next to you. The photo sessions involved all of us lined up. With the matriarch and patriarch in the middle. The youngest ones sitting closest to the oldest and the middle generations stuck on the edge. Mostly the then middle generation, was on the edge as they were the ones running back and forth to the cameras that are now thought to be from the middle ages. (Remember when you had to advance the camera's film manually to the next frame for the camera to work.) But ahh yes, the memories, even with out actually seeing the photos from the different Thanksgiving. Every year the pictures look the same. Altering the living room depending on which aunt hosted and sometimes a special showing by one of my mom's boyfriends or a cousin that lived across the country. We were all so close then generally. It was an anomally for one someone not to show. Now, I think of all my cousins and we cover every US time zone, and then include that Canadian one that comes before EST way out there in the Atlantic.
But I regress...
Christmas also forces me to look through all my photos from the year and see all the great things I have experienced with my kids. Trust me, there aren't smiles in all these pictures. Of course it's always more fun to take pictures when there is a happy crowd, but we have plenty of healthy fits documented on my digital memory. Some get erased, others are used for blackmail. That's what family is about right? Forgive, forget, or blackmail... oh I'm not sure.
But this year also leads me to be nostalgic of the Christmas's past and the traditions I had, the ones I am desperately trying to recreate for my kids, the ones I can't ignore, the ones I must have ignored because I just can't recall them (what happened in 1990, the slate is blank...) and the one I'm living right now. Of course when you pick up your life and move across the country to what might as well be another country one gets nostalgic for things not here. That happens.
Again, I regress.
I am grateful. I am blessed. I am crazy, but I'm happy. I am struggling but I am living. I have the most amazing kids and fabulous husband. We are not perfect, but I love them and the life we are living. Day to day I may lose my mind, but on the whole, I wouldn't have it any other way.
And then of course we have all the moments in between that no camera is ever present. How is it I don't stop to take a picture of Tigo building his Legos. I'm not documenting the event that occurs as ritual every morning noon and night. Finished products sometimes, but Legos are such a work in progress we don't have finished products much. There is a lot of "look at what it is now" and "what do you think it needs more?"
There's not a camera at the school drop off in the morning where I kiss the kids good by and secretly want to hold them a few more minutes everyday even as I fight to tell them how important it is to be on time to school.
There's not a camera when I tuck them into bed at night or sit on the floor reading Harry Potter to them as they beg for one more chapter even though it's an hour past their bedtime.
And there is certainly not a camera when Azalea screams when she sees a cockroach, but I know it's a memory she will remember.
I guess there are the events and the traditions or just daily rituals and they are all wonderful and all sacred.
And I am so blessed to have it all.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Huh?
Crazy lady say what?
Multiple signs like this outside of Taos. Not just one graffitti-ed on. Rural New Mexicans have real concerns off two lane roads.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
96 degrees in the shade
Maybe it would have been, but I'm not sure there was any shade.
So was more than that on this day.
It's funny. I thought it would be a good a idea to go hiking in the desert on a 100 degree day. The kids thought it would be a better idea to go swimming at the pool.
We did both.
The kids were right.
I was wrong. It takes a lot for me to say that. A lot of evaporated sweat. My goodness it was hot! Even the dogs were too crazy hot. To be in the sun.
There was supposed to be a creek on the hike. But like I said, it was 100 degrees in the open desert. There's no water to be seen or heard of.
The dogs founds a little shade to collapse into, but by that time, we were ready to go swimming somewhere else.
But it was kinda pretty.
The kids were right.
I was wrong. It takes a lot for me to say that. A lot of evaporated sweat. My goodness it was hot! Even the dogs were too crazy hot. To be in the sun.
Monday, August 16, 2010
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