The trains are lonely, and so is this mom

I just arrived home to find it empty for the first time. Until this week, I would be greeted by a little firecracker, running to me and giggling, waiting to have lunch together. Or to not let me eat it, which was more common. But I will take all the half eaten lunches that got cold while I tended to him over the orderly one I will have today, alone with my paper.

I look at his trains, and they look sad, like me. They are used to spend many hours a day being played by my little Pb. But little Pb started school this week, and had a rough first day, but he is fine by now, and I miss him, and I don't want the silence, or the quietness, I want my little baby running around, and climbing onto things, and making a mess, but always, always putting a smile to my day. 

Of the surreal nonfirst day of school for Little Pb

Special needs kids get therapy through Early Intervention, an agency depending from the state. This agency covers services until the day a kid turns three, when he/she will be transferred to the public school system, for us CPS. Before that you have to have a meeting with therapists and bureucrats to determine which services CPS will have to provide for your child. We had that meeting, called IEP, a couple of weeks ago, and yesterday we received the placement letter. With that in one hand, and little Pb in the other, his backpack and blanket on tow, I drove to the school today, eager to see him start attending an oral/deaf program. 

To my surprise, when we arrived, we were told that his spot had been taken by another girl the day before. There I was, six months pregnant, with a toddler intent on climbing the walls or running away, a letter in my hand saying that they had to take them, and speechless after been told that they cannot. I was already quite skeptical about the whole CPS thing, but I didn't expect this kind of mess. 

Then, the surreal factor came in. As I was trying to figure out what was going on with this very helpful ladies, while doing my best to keep my kiddo from turning on the fire alarm, Mayor Rahm Emmanuel stormed in the office, all smiles, and handshakes, and cuteness towards the little fire alarm chaser. I guess that he was visiting the principal, but in the middle of a terrible morning, and out of CNN's Chicagoland, there he was, making me laugh for the first time in hours. Oh, the weird and unexpected...

We came home, and finally they fixed the problem and told me to bring him tomorrow again so he can start. But I will keep posting about our adventures in CPSland, which is an interesting part of Chicago.

Alguien que sea yo

This one is in Spanish, poetry again. I had never heard about its author,  but I saw the book during a trip to Spain in 2012 and I bought it. The author is just a couple of years older than I. I love poetry, but I don't love all poetry. I'm way more omnivorous regarding fiction. With poetry, particularly in Spanish, I am terribly bored by lyric works that rely too much in the aesthetical aspect of it, as many poets tend to do. The same ones tend to be quite arrogant, but otherwise they wouldn't be poets. The reason why I loved Manuel del Barrio Donaire's book is because it's none of that. He is not a well known poet (I couldn't even find the book in Goodreads), and he doesn't seem to belong to the old fashioned and endogamic Spanish literary circle. That may be what makes his look at reality acidic, cynical, raw and terribly entertaining. I had fun reading his poems. Many made me smile, and even laugh. They are quite realistic, but not like dirty realism, this is more of a 2.0 realism. Del Barrio Donaire talks about daily life, about writing, about the meaning of life or the lack of it. He is very americanized, and his verses are peppered with images and brands imported from the US, including the ubiquitous Apple and Starbucks. His references to sex are direct, probably even offensive to some delicate ears. Mine are not, so I find his direct and honest tone amusing. 

If you can get a hold of this book, read it. Even someone learning Spanish could handle it. If finding his book is hard, you can always visit his blog, www.delalinearectadelmarcodelapuerta.blogspot.com 

As soon as I can I will try to bring more of his books from Spain, as I think he deserves some more of my time. He sounds like the kind if guy with whom I would happily have a beer and a long conversation. And they aren't many of those anymore.

The Prophet

I had never read anything by Kahlil Gibran before. I have to admit that I am quite illiterate in regards of poetry written in English, or in most other languages, as I don't think you can grasp all the emotion that poetry should convey from a translation. Coming from a translator this sounds like a joke.

Going back to Gibran, I loved this book. A mother's day gift from 2009, It had been in my night table waiting for five years. I am not a religious person, but its spirituality reached me. I read it aloud in the hopes that the baby in my belly can hear it too, and in this way, the rhythm of the verses made it sound as a meditation chant, the kind that brings you peace.

Each one of its "sections" could start an hours long philosophical discussion. But there is so much kindness and respect in his words that if you read it alone, it can only give you calm, and make you smile.

There are two quotes that I highlighted:

"And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret". (p. 26)

This quote resonates with me, as I have never felt as alive, as womanly and as powerful as I did when I gave birth to my second son. The energy that fills the room when you are laboring is impossible to match or recreate, and having a man put this in writing in 1923 is just amazing. I will keep his words next to me when the time comes, and that energy returns to me for the birth of my third son.

"Your friend is your needs answered.

He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.

And he is your board and your fireside.

For you come to him with your hunger,

and you seek him for peace". (p. 58)

Also seeing friendship among the basic things of life is rewarding. I wouldn't be who or where I am without my friends, who listened to endless evenings of love hits or misses, cheered me up when I needed it, pushed me or stopped me when it was called for. They are still there, some far away, someclose by, and I keep meeting more of them, and I will never be grateful enough to all of them. 

Before the hormones take over, I will just recommend that you read this book, this beautiful edition by Knopf in thick cream paper, with illustrations by the author. Read it, digest it, discuss it, as there is so much in such a little number of pages...