It's All About Hugo This Father's Day

I can remember as if it were yesterday.  It was Halloween, 2009.  Hugo and I were dating, and he went Trick or Treating with us for the very first time.  Lee asked him to carry him up on his shoulders.  For a year, that was Lee's favorite seat.  Hugo laments that he wasn't a part of our family sooner, so that he could not only hold Lee longer, but he would have loved to have had the opportunity with the other kids, as well.

As I went through pictures, looking for shots I wanted to include in this Father's Day tribute to Hugo, I saw an abundance of pictures of him with Lee, and not one one-on-one picture of him with the other kids.  What the heck?!  We need to work on that, starting today.

Whether a photo was captured or not, one thing is clear.  Hugo Ambriz has taken this job as Dad with all of his heart, pouring himself into these kids with as much energy and tenacity as if he had been their natural father.  And none of these kids will suffer the fate of being raised with the disappointments of a non-present dad.

Oops!  I was wrong.  Here is a pic of Hugo and Adam together.  These two enjoy trips to the batting cages, jam sessions in the garage, and endless hours spent in the yard mowing, trimming, and sweating.  Well, maybe not so much, with that last one.  Their growing bond touches me.

This is one of my favorite pictures of both Hugo, and Lee.  I love their faces, and confidence, as they take command of the shark.

Hugo used to leave for work before Lee left for school.  He'd bow down on one knee, and give Lee a talk, encouraging Lee to be honest, fair, a hard worker, and a good friend.  Hugo started taking Lee to school, so the routine was altered a bit, and it was done at school, rather than on the front porch.  Toward the end of last year, the beloved BEST teacher in the school approached Hugo, and told him how much she enjoys watching him see Lee off because of his obvious love and commitment to his son.  It's funny, too, because I had noticed her smiling at me every afternoon with an extra twinkle in her eye.  She'd see me with Lee, and she made the connection.  We're all being watched, and when we get caught doing great things, it's freaking awesome.  Hugo was caught.

Hugo plays with Lee.  A lot.  He enters his imaginary world, and devotes hours of time to creating forever memories.  Here, he hasn't even gotten out of his work clothes yet.

There are pictures of the older kids at events where Hugo was very present, but not pictured.  Like, at the high school orientation one Saturday at Abi's future high school.  It was just Hugo, Abi, and me and it was a special time to learn about her future options.

Tessa is cheering on Hugo's inner rock star at a festival in Azusa.  This picture is a treat.  She does not like getting it taken.  She is so beautiful.

Danielle is cheering him on, too.  This child, also beautiful, does like getting her picture taken.

He is cool, just as the sign says.  So very cool.  And such a gift to these kids.  Not only filling in the blanks, but writing over written wrongs that left each of them wounded and insecure.  He is the man of my dreams, and the father I prayed for, for each of the five kids he loves and holds.

Remember when I said that I need to start taking pictures of him with the older kids, and I said that I need to begin starting today?  Well, I did.  Four of the kids are with their natural dad this weekend, so we will celebrate Hugo together with them next weekend.  But, Danielle will be in Italy then, so today, Hugo had Father's Day #1 with Danielle.  We started the day by bringing Donut Man to him in bed.

I said, "Donut Man," not the donut man.

We wanted to take him to Pozzeto's, our favorite Italian restaurant, after church.  But, Hugo wasn't in the mood.  He wanted Carl's Jr., instead.  I know.  I tried.  I even suggested his favorite deli in the Glendora Village.  Anything but Carl's.  Not that there's anything wrong with them, at all.  I love them.  But Carl's?  On Father's Day?  Since it's his day we went with what he wanted.  A hamburger eaten at a park.  So, while we were there, I carried out my plan of getting a one-on-one with a child.  The child available today.  Danielle.  Yes, the one who likes to get her picture taken, so it was easy.

Happy Father's Day, Mr. Ambriz.  The man of my dreams.

Adam's Story -- Part 3

Adam had just turned 16 when he moved back in with Hugo and me.  His charter school has multiple locations, and we were able to transfer him from his previous location to a different one closer to our new house.

His life was pretty simple for him.  School two days a week, and that was about it.  Concerned that his leisure time was far more heavily weighted than his productive time, I urged him to seek balance by involving himself in volunteer work.  He volunteered weekly in Lee's Kindergarten class listening to kids read out loud, testing their comprehension, and helping Lee's teacher grade assignments.  It was so much fun seeing him in there, completely adored by the kids.  Mr. Adam.  He smiled deeply, beneath his smile.

Transitioning into life with Hugo was not nearly as difficult as other transitions I've heard about, when a step-parent comes into the mix.  Adam was never threatened by Hugo's command of authority, simply because Hugo didn't demand it.  Sure, he is a strong leader, but he never wanted to come in and push his way into the family as the new sheriff in town.  In a way he was, because he is disciplined in the ways in which we have lacked discipline, and he maintains that discipline himself, expecting us all to follow suit.  But, in matters of the heart, he didn't want to throw himself to the kids, making them love their new dad.  He knew they already have a dad they love.

My ex-husband has continued to maintain a distance between himself and his kids that has been painful for them.  Adam had a lot of conflict when he lived with his dad.  But, as he compared his natural dad's behavior and responses to the behavior and responses of Hugo, he saw big differences.

The kids have been blessed, because it seems as though all of the ways in which their natural dad struggles, Hugo is strong.  And I could be wrong, but I really think that my ex-husband sees that, and rather than be threatened by it, to his credit, he is comforted by it.  Like, he knows that there are aspects of what the kids need in his personality and character that he just can't produce, and when he sees Hugo fill those needs, he is relieved.  He loves his children very much.  And so does Hugo.

Adam sees this.  Of all of the kids, he was the first one to accept his dad for who he is, and how he is.  Knowing that he doesn't behave the way he does because he is evil, or bad, or doesn't love his kids, but that he responds to life, the kids included, because of the hurts and pain he suffers deeply from his own childhood.  It doesn't excuse it, or make it OK for him to berate or neglect his kids, but it helps those of us who are subjected to his behavior understand him.

Adam was able to see his dad for who he is, forgive his dad for who he is, and love his dad for who he is.  And when he did that, the anger, lifted.  It was gone.  No more lashing out at me.  No more yelling matches with his dad.

Adam was also able to seek the things he needs in a dad from Hugo.  Hugo's love for him is intense, and he marvels at the depth of their relationship.  Hugo willingly gives Adam the time and attention  Adam was so starved for, his entire childhood.  Trips to the batting cages, games of catch, jam sessions in the garage, incessant nagging about Adam's need to pick up his dirty clothes and empty clothes hangers from his bedroom floor.  Adam has needed it all, and he drinks it in.

Hugo joined me in keeping Adam on the straight and narrow academically.  He was in an independent study program, which means he could work extra hard to make up his freshman year, and graduate on time.  But, it could also mean that he could slack off.

We push for academic excellence in our family.  It doesn't necessarily have to be straight-A's.  If a child is working their hardest, and they get a C, they will get our applause.  But, if they are slacking off, and they get a C, well, not so much.

Adam was definitely improving his Straight-F GPA from his freshman year.  He was getting B's, and C's.  But, we really believed he could do better, because we just didn't see him working that hard on his schooling. He needed to study more, and try harder.  To not be so happy to settle for mediocrity.  He challenged us on this, holding fast to the fact that he wasn't failing like before.  That he had improved.  But, we stood firm too.  We wanted to build in him a character that wouldn't so easily settle for less.  It caused some tension, especially between Adam and Hugo, because Hugo was able to sift through the smelly stuff, and cut to the chase, where I was always a little fearful that Adam would snap again, and give up altogether.

I have a rule of no gaming on school days.  Adam asked to have that rule softened, since he was older.  I had to really think about it, but I agreed, under the condition that he only game when his grades were good.  He had to spend more time studying, and applying himself to his education.  If he brought home the grades, he could game.  It was a great incentive, and an opportunity for him to take more responsibility, seeing firsthand and immediate benefits to working hard in school.

And he did it.  Adam made up his freshman year, as well as completed his other requirements, so that he could graduate the same year he would have, had he stayed in traditional high school.  He did 4 years in 3.  And through the completion of every subject, we saw him stand a little taller.

Adam has gotten very involved in his youth group of about 500 teens at church.  He is close with a group of guys his age, who meet together with a leader/mentor every week.  He has grown tremendously.  Spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and physically!  My 10 pound, 1 ounce baby boy stands at 6'2", and wears a size 13 shoe.

The sweet, witty little boy I raised all those years ago has grown to be a sweet, witty, intelligent, and beautiful young man, wise beyond his years.  His heart for others, and compassion for people who are hurting is a driving force within him.  His love and commitment to God is the driving force that gives purpose to all of his other driving forces.

Sure that he has been called by God, Adam has chosen to pursue a life of full-time Christian service.  He wants to take the pains of his past, and help others who suffer as he has suffered.

He graduates next Tuesday.  He will start college in the fall.  We celebrate, not only the success of his completion of high school, but we celebrate the success of his life.  Courage.  Facing his heartache, working through it, rising above it.

He laughs.  A lot.  And he makes us laugh.  A lot.  Oh, and he plays the piano again.  The beautiful piano music of my son fills our home, and my heart.  Beauty from ashes, indeed.

Expansion

OK, my sweet family and friends.  I need to share something with all of you, and I need to admit that I am being pretty vulnerable, here.

A year ago I started this Blog, and I have been touched deeply by the love and support I have received from so many of you, the people I love the most in this world.  You have affirmed me, allowed me to put my most ugly confessions out there, and you have cheered me on when I've shared the triumphs my family and I have enjoyed.

When I started my Blog, I started it with more than one goal in mind.  One, I needed to write.  It's how I process my thoughts and feelings.  Another, was to communicate with the many Life Friends and distant relatives I love so much, but yet don't get to connect with on a day-to-day basis.  I needed to bring you all in on what's going on in my ever-changing life.

But, by far the biggest goal I had, when I started my Blog, was to be a voice for families in Crisis due to divorce, addiction, death of a family member, financial strains, abuse, or anything else that might threaten the health and development of a family.

When I discovered that my then-husband had been having a sexual affair with a woman from work, I was completely blind-sided.  The air was squeezed out of my body.  The ground under my feet was turned into a black pit of quicksand, and I sank down to the bottom.  And I wasn't alone.  I had 4 young children with me.  We were suffocating, and we were without ground.

So we began to climb out.  In that climb, we learned much about what it is that happens to a family when they are too dysfunctional to grow.  Too dysfunctional to thrive.  Too dysfunctional to find their feet, let alone solid ground onto which they can plot out the journey of their life.

Prior to all this, I lived in a sweet little bubble, completely unaware as to why it was that those people, the ones who are in Crisis, act the way they do.  Why do they have kids who act out?  Why is there so much disrespect?  How can a mother leave her kids on their own, while she pursues an addiction to work, or seeking an identity, or even attention from other men?  I judged that woman.  That family.  Until it was me.  And my family.

My eyes are open now.  And with deep humility, I no longer judge.

So, I write.  I write so I don't forget.  I write so others understand.  And I suppose, so I understand, as I still continue to process everything.  And I write so that I can reach out to an audience who is in that black pit.  I want to be available to people who are reaching up, to get out.

This is where I get vulnerable.  Since I've slowly developed by Blog, I haven't been aggressive at all, in  reaching Followers.  I love my 30 Followers, and my regular readers for being so supportive and affirming.  But as I branch out and seek a wider audience, I need the help of my family and dear friends.  Please share me with your friends, and your family.  If you have a Blog, could you please give me a little shout-out?  A little mention?  And can you follow me on Twitter?  I just got a Twitter account, and I love my 3 followers, but I'd kinda like to have more.  :)

And I know that as I get more Followers, and readers, they will see this post, and I will look like a total dork!  But, I am a total dork, so getting seen as who I really am is the price I have to pay for being transparent.  But, it's a price worth every bit of embarrassment, if it promotes my cause, and I'm able to reach people who could identify with my life.

I love you all so much.  Thank you.

Starring Lee as Darth Maul

Lee was a Star Wars late bloomer.  For his entire pre-school and Kindergarten years, his boyhood favorite things involved super heroes.  Batman, Superman, Spiderman...any crusader, caped or otherwise, captured his imagination.  Batman backpacks, Batman and The Joker at his 6th Birthday Party, countless Happy Meals whenever super heroes were in the theaters, because Happy Meals = cool super hero toys.

His cousins Troy and Elijah, on the other hand, were very much into Star Wars.  Lee liked Star Wars, but The Millennium Falcon just didn't get his heart racing as much as The Batmobile.

When Lee was 5, Hugo took him for his first of what would be many visits to Frank and Son's, a weekly nerd fest where various collectible peddlers sell their goods in a warehouse.  Matchbox Cars, Barbie's, comic books, video gaming stuff, action figures of every kind.  It's like a swap meet for the Star Trek Convention type.  It was Star Wars day when Hugo first took him, and they had people prancing around in Star Wars costume, which caught the imagination of Lee.  At one point they put on a Star Wars skit, and Hugo recorded it on his iPhone while Lee sat on his shoulders.  It is still one of Lee's favorite things to watch.  I really think that it was this exposure to Star Wars excitement that really began Lee's interest.

It was confirmed last summer, when we were back-to-school shopping, and Lee chose a Darth Vader backpack, over Batman.  And when he turned 7 in December, he chose a Star Wars themed birthday party.  He got a lot of Star Wars toys, and *a lot* of Star Wars clothing, and as fast as you could say Storm Trooper, he was hooked.

We had the original three Star Wars episodes on DVD, but not the newer three.  Hugo and I happened to stumble upon them at a movie store, no wait.  The story goes this way:  The Easter Bunny realized, the week after Easter, that he forgot to give Lee the three Star Wars movies he'd intended to include with the Easter baskets.  He secretly gave them to Papi a week late, so he could get them to Lee.  Or so Hugo told Lee.  I told Lee that I'd never heard of the Easter Bunny doing anything like that before.  And that I was completely amazed that Papi was actually able to meet the real Easter Bunny in person, like that.  I never have.  We keep all of our contact on the QT.  Blocked cell phone calls from his helpers, for candy suggestions.

Anyway, Lee now had all 6 of the Star Wars movies, thus issuing in a brand new era of passion for all things Star Wars, including countless questions.  "Why did Qui-Gon Jinn think Anakin was special?" "Why didn't the Council trust Anakin?" "Why are Darth Maul's teeth so ugly?" "Why were Anakin and his mom slaves?" "Why is the Emperor's skin so gray and wrinkly?" "Why did Anakin choose the Dark Side?"  In the car, at bedtime, on bike rides, during dinner.  So many questions.

He hums the Star Wars music all the time.  If he's doing homework, playing, jumping on the trampoline, it's either the Imperial March (Darth Vader's Theme), or Duel of the Fates (Darth Maul's theme), or the standard theme being hummed.  He's actually really gotten into John Williams' music as a whole through his love of Star Wars.

Lately, Darth Maul has been his obsession, not because Lee leans more toward the Dark Side, but because Darth Maul is badass.  He enjoys watching The Making Of feature on the Episode I DVD, watching the actor who plays Darth Maul train with Liam Neeson, and Ewan McGregor.

It's Saturday.  Frank and Sons is open.  Hugo and Lee devised a plan where Hugo would paint Lee's face to look like Darth Maul, and they would go to Frank and Sons, in full nerd form, in search of a double light saber.  Lee got all painted, he counted his money, and off they went.  I captured it with some pictures:

Please ignore the pink walls.  Yes, we still need to paint.

It gets kind of hot at Frank and Sons, so I hear, so we had to creatively dress our little Darth Maul in a cooler version of a make-shift costume.  Black Star Wars t-shirt, black and red basketball shorts, black and red flips, brought together with a black scarf on the head, and the black and red cape Grammie made each of the boy cousins for dress-up.

Pretty impressive, right?  Hugo doesn't know this, but he is available for hire, for any and all of your costume make-up needs.  

I like it how Lee can take full advantage of his 1st grade teeth (front permanent tooth only partially in), in an attempt to replicate the Sith's menacing grin.

There's still a nice boy under all that paint.

Back to Earth, and counting his money with Papi, and Abi (fresh out of the shower, with wet hair).

Hugo told me that even as they walked through the parking lot, people commented on Lee's look.  He got a lot of positive comments, and thumbs-up.  Inside, everyone who passed them noticed Lee, and kids were in awe.  Hugo was loving it.  Lee was too, but then suddenly, not so much.  He wanted the paint off.  So, it was into the nearest bathroom with a hand soap and paper towel spit shine.

They didn't find the double light saber at Frank and Sons, but good ole Target came through.

The day was made complete with a lunch out at McDonald's.  The Happy Meal toy was lame, but no complaints.  A day out with Papi, and a double light saber are all he needed today.  Come to think of it, I think it's what they both needed.

Finding the Spirit of Christmas Peace in a Broken Spirit

So, yeah, I have a problem with rage.  It's the F-Bomb on the tip of my tongue again, but this time, it's where my mind takes me as I watch a very sad little boy drive off with his dad.

Children are to come into this world to two loving parents.  Balance.  Perfect design.  Double the love.  Two sets of eyes to watch them, and two sets of arms to hold them.

But, then Life happens.

In my case, the children were torn in two when I left their dad after he had sexual indiscretions with other women, and after said behavior opened my eyes to a long list of things not right and healthy in our marriage.  Control.  Anger.  Emotional, mental, and Spiritual abuse.

So, divorce ensued, the dust settled, and not only the dust, but we settled into a routine of every-other-weekends, and shared holidays.  It works, right?  Each parent gets to love on the kids equally, still.  Each parent gets to explode their love onto the kids like an atom bomb, tightly compacted with affection, love, desire for happy memories, and connection.  The kids get more, right?

Mom remarries, so now they have another parent to love on them.  With his family, now all doting grandparents, aunts, and uncles, loving the kids as though they were born into their family.

Dad remarries, and they get more of the same.  Extra siblings, even.  A broader, richer world in which they can thrive.

In the best of situations, yes, this is all true.  In the best of situations, the children are showered with all the love their divorced, or never-married parents can give.  But, it doesn't take any sort of imagination at all, to see all of the areas of pain that is there for the taking for the children.

How hard it was for Lee this morning, to hug Hugo good-bye before he left for work.  Hugo, crouching down, and Lee sitting on his knee.  Hugo, from his heart, telling Lee to have a great time with his dad tonight.  Hearing Lee say, "Awww, I only get one night?  That's not fair.  The other kids were there longer."  Then Hugo, with parent-love filling up every inch of his own broken heart, comes back with warm instructions for Lee to enjoy every minute, and to not waste any of it on TV.  Hugo left the house after selflessly giving his little boy over to his natural dad, torn at knowing the significance of Lee's needed relationship with his dad, as well as feeling the significance of Lee's relationship with himself.

So, then when Lee's dad and Adam came to pick Lee up, Adam took Lee into the family room to distract him while I shared with Lee's dad many of the odd behaviors Lee's seizures Sunday night have left him with this week.  Things to watch out for, and things Hugo and I have been working hard at helping Lee either do, or not do.  Passing the baton, so to speak.

But, how can a parent, in a system of balance and perfection, pass the baton on to anybody?  Is it not by God's perfect design that that baton simply stay put in the hands of the parents that were called to bring the child into this world?  And what happens when the baton gets handed over to a step-parent?  When they have to pass it on (like Hugo, this morning)?

I once told Hugo that the honest truth is, not only has the baton been passed to him, holding all of the joys and fulfillment of parenthood, but sadly, he also has to suffer the pain of that baton as it penetrates his heart.  Parenthood is pain.

Especially when we send our children off.  Not to a sleepover, or to camp, or to something simple and fun.  But to send them off to the other place where their divided heart resides, knowing that in order to get to it, they have to leave the other half of their divided heart behind.

Case in point this morning, as they settled into the car to drive off.  I could see Lee's stress.  I could see his attempts to not cry.  I could see the dread in his face, knowing that he was leaving.

I ran into the house before they backed out of the driveway, and grabbed a stuffed puppy I hadn't wrapped yet for Christmas.  It's a symbol of a dog we're considering getting Lee to train and help with his seizures.  I saw it and put it away to put under the tree.  I'm normally not a stuffed animal buyer, but this one seemed to represent something.  And as a sad face sat atop my little boy getting ready to leave his mom, I ran back to the car with the stuffed puppy tucked under my shirt.  I pulled it out and gave it to him.  His face lit up, and he cuddled it.  They drove off, with him watching me intently out the car window, and I came into the house, and cried.

And then I felt it, the familiar need to cuss again.  The F-Bomb right there, wanting to come out as I cursed the very essence of our system.

When I was a younger woman, I believed that parents needed to stay together forever.  Period.  As flawed as my current system is, I in no way agree with my younger self.  I do not believe that raising children in a dysfunctional, and/or abusive system is ever best, just so long as the parents are together.  I see the growth my kids have made as Hugo has entered their lives, and I am quite cognizant of the fact that this is growth God facilitated for them through their Papi.  I'm certain of it.

I do believe that God can make all things good, and I see that He is doing it before my very eyes.

Counselors have told me that it is because the pain isn't just in the past.  That it's because the kids are still suffering.  That it keeps the wounds fresh, and salted.

My spirit is also telling me that it is due to the working out of buried pain, and anger.  That, as I allow myself to own it, and not deny its existence because it's bad, I'll be able to bring it to the light, and, well we all know the shelf life of something dead and buried, once it's out in the open, and well lit.  My hope is that it will decay completely, and blow away in the wind, never to hold the power over as it has all these years.

This is hardly a post to publish at Christmas time.  But, actually, for what I do, it is a perfect post.  It's to bring awareness to a reality in the lives of many people.  An awareness I was completely in the dark from before.  There are many parents who have had to say good-bye to their babies this week and next, due to shared holidays with the other half.  There are many of us suffering the same pain, and with all the Christmas joy out there, we feel so Scroogy, wallowing in our sorrow.

But, trying to reach for the Peace, Joy and Love of Christmas with a parents' sorrow in your heart is like batting at the glass ornaments on your Tree.  You'll knock them off, and they'll shatter.

Instead, reach out, gently, to the people in your life who care, and who love you and your children.  Give yourself a moment to share your sorrow, or even cuss, if you feel all welled up with rage like me.  Maybe you have a way to go in your journey toward Peace, and you're just not seeing it yet.  Talk with someone.  Tell them about it.  And if they're not there, tell me about it.  Just let it out.  Because, as long as we try and keep it stuffed down deeply, we will never be able to get past the sorrow.  And our kids will suffer for it, as will the ones around us who love us.  Just like the shattered ornaments under the tree.

I can honestly say, that with all of my rage, and my pain, and any fear, I can see glimpses of Christmas Joy, and it's so close, I can even feel it vibrating its way to the deepest parts of my soul.  It's there, and it will be a part of me.  In fact, I feel it more now than I did when I started writing this post.  Getting out my angst has helped a lot.

Thank you all, Dear Readers, for allowing me this outlet for healing.  As I share, and heal, I am always hoping and praying that my transparency will help others on similar journeys.  It's my Christmas present to others who are in, or have been, in Crisis.  And in return, I get the gift of helping others heal, and become whole.

Merry Christmas to you all, and may the True Spirit of Peace, Joy, and Love knit together with your own spirit this Christmas Season.  And may it bring healing to you.  I love you so much.

Dads Need to Step Up, and Quickly

A day doesn't go by, that I'm not reminded of the reality of Family Crisis in our world, as I see it rear it's ugly head all over the place.  The other night, in fact, I ran into one of my favorite little spots in Glendora, just at the base of the Village.  The dollar store.  You never know what you're going to get, but whenever I go in, I give my bargain hunting high a fresh hit.

There was a mom in there with her young children.  What is it about young moms with their little ones that get at my heart?  The newness?  The hope?  The joy?  The little family seemed extra darling to me for some reason, and I enjoyed hearing their helium high voices as they shopped with their mommy.

As it turned out, they ended up in line after me.  Then the mom realized she forgot band-aids, and leaving her pre-school aged little boy in line, she went to the bandage aisle to get a box (it's a very small store--she was within ear-shot).  The little boy started to get nervous about the line progressing, so I offered him encouragement that there were a lot of people ahead of him, and that his mom would get back in plenty of time.

He was a chatty little guy.  "My dad took all of the Band-Aids," he said.  I laughed.  "It's OK," I replied, "Your mom is getting more."  Then, he added a bit of information that cut me to my core, as he took me from a mindset of the family simply picking up needed supplies, to a darker reality.  "I can't have my dad living with me anymore."

My heart sank.  He was so honest.  So real.  So matter-of-fact.  He looked up at me with such innocent eyes.  Eyes that don't deserve to be the windows to a soul that is being put through the torment of everything at home being turned upside down.

All I could offer him was, "I'm sorry, Honey.  That happens sometimes."

The mom came back to the line, and before I knew it I was handing her a piece of paper with my blog address scribbled on it.  I told her I'd been admiring her family.  And I told her what her little boy said to me.  I told her that I wanted to offer her hope that she will make it.  That I have been where she is right now.  That there is life on the other side.  The cashier called me for my turn, and I was gone, but not without one last knowing glance as I walked out.

I've thought about her a lot.  About her little boy, about all of her kids, and about all of that sweet and tender energy dancing around their mommy as they shopped.  I've prayed for them.

Do I notice these things because they are everywhere, or do I notice them because it's a world my eyes are now opened to?  A world for which my heart bleeds?

My mom called me a couple of days ago telling me about a movie she and my dad saw twice over the weekend.  She saw it with each of my two sisters, and she said my brother saw it in Minnesota as well.  It was a movie I hadn't heard of.  A Christian movie made by the good people who brought you Fireproof with Kirk Cameron.  The movie is called Courageous.

You gotta just bless the little hearts of Christian movie makers.  As much as it pains me to say it, Christian movies just tend to be cheesy.  But, my mom told me that this one had such a compelling and real story, that it was easy for her to bypass the cheesiness, and go for the good.  A lot of good, in fact.  So much so, that she was calling to insist (INSIST!!) that Hugo and I go right away to see it.  That night, in fact.  It has been in theaters for a while now, and is only at a select few as it is.  She feared that if we put it off, we'd miss our chance.

I looked on line, and the only showing near us was at 10:20.  I have a hard enough time sitting through a movie at prime time without falling asleep, let alone a two hour movie that doesn't even start until 10:20. But I agreed, went to the dollar store for candy to smuggle in (maybe the adrenaline of getting away without having to pay theater prices for snacks will keep me awake), and after taking a nap next to Lee at his bedtime (when I discovered a rash on his face and arms, but that's another story), Hugo and I headed out the door for a late date night.

Hugo said he wanted to get there in time to see the previews of "Fireproof II...The Reckoning," but it appears that there is no such movie, so we had to settle for...well, to be honest, I can't remember any of the previews.  I was already starting to get sleepy.  So I popped in a bite sized Milky Way.

OK.  So, the movie had its share of lame attempts at not being cheesy, but really?  By far amongst the best Christian movies yet.  Second only to Soul Surfer.

We were touched deeply by the message.  The obvious message of our need, in society, to see our dads step up and father their children.  It portrays varying dads, with different styles and backgrounds, as they take on the demands of fatherhood with a serious look onto what's at stake.

What's that line Keanu Reeves says in the movie Parenthood?  Well, here.  Unless you're sensitive to profanity, just take a look here.

So many of the ills of society would be wiped away, if fathers really fathered.  And it's not to get us moms off the hook.  Sometimes we have a situation when we see that the fathers of our children can not only not father them properly, but we find that they do our children more harm than good.  In a case such as this, we as moms have a huge responsibility to take action and make changes.

Those of us who have wonderful men fathering our children need to let them do what they do, without interfering.  The role of the dad is different from the role of the mom.  We need to stick to our own job, take it seriously, and do it well.

I sincerely hope that this is what that young mom is doing for her babies.  I hope that now that the Dad and the Band-Aids are gone, she is reaching out to the resources available to her.  Sometimes it's hard to find them--it was for me.  But unfortunately, it isn't hard to find a woman who has walked in your shoes before you.  Hopefully, you can find one who is healthy, who has worked her hiney off to bring function into her home, and into the lives of her children.  Go to her.  Learn from her.

If not, call me.  Write me.  Message me.  This is why I'm here.  I will offer you support, and any resources I can to get you and your children to a better place.

And for everyone else, if you are interested in boosting your parenthood powers and have 2 hours, go see Courageous before its run in the theaters expires.  Know it won't be winning any Academy Awards, but what it lacks in movie finesse, it more than makes up for in message, and in getting a much needed point across.  There are even some side-splitting funny parts, which is an amazing find in Christian movies.

"Limonada!"

The Story of Hugo and Me

I got an email yesterday from a very dear Life Friend of mine.  She and I have been friends for 25 years. We were new brides together, and we used to meet weekly to pray for our husbands, and study about ways to be better wives.  We shared a determined commitment to our husbands, and that common bond was something that has kept us close all these years.

The last few years have brought both of us a great deal of pain, and as sad as it is, life has gotten in the way of our being able to really connect on a deep level through this time.  She said to me yesterday that getting to read my blogs has helped her tremendously, which was a beautiful thing to read, as this is one of the reasons why I wanted to blog in the first place...so that I could re-connect with all of the dear people I have had in the various parts of my life.

One thing she has requested, though, is one thing I haven't yet shared...the story of how Hugo and I met, fell in love, and married each other.  The story of our love, and how it came to be.  It made me smile.  Without even knowing it, Michelle played a big part in it.

She prayed with me for my husband.

It was a dark moment in my life when I allowed myself to see my now ex-husband for who he really was.  He wasn't the man I had prayed for.  And no matter how hard I worked at being the best wife I could be, he couldn't allow himself to receive any of it.  Instead, he took my attempts at honoring him as a means to keep me belittled, and under his thumb.  When the marriage ended, I was devastated.  Incredulous that all those years of prayer and commitment to my husband went away as painfully as the marriage itself.

We had been separated for nearly 4 years, and the divorce I allowed to drag on for years was nearing its finality.  I worked at a Hawaiian restaurant where I was the Marketing Manager and Special Events Coordinator.

My brother-in-law Joe is a musician and a music producer.  He was contracted by the restaurant to facilitate Saturday night entertainment.  Hugo, his friend from their teenage years, lent him equipment needed for the music gigs.  I had heard about Hugo in various stories through the years, and I had met Hugo's brother Luis, another friend of Joe's, before.  But never Hugo.  I was always kind of curious.

My first impression of him was that he was really, really cute.  With an engaging smile.  And a kind spirit.  I loved the way he patiently helped Joe out with whatever he needed.  He was funny, too, and very easy to talk to.  I learned quickly that he liked root beer.  Rather than have one of the servers keep him loaded up, I decided that as manager, I would be showing better hospitality of I just took care of him myself.  Oh, Joe?  Sorry Joe.  What did you want to drink...?

Every Saturday night I looked forward to seeing Hugo.  The kids would be with their dad every-other-weekend, so on the Saturdays that they were gone, I'd volunteer to work, even though my job was mostly a Monday-through-Friday job.  It was good for me to be there, but there were many Saturdays when it wasn't necessary.  But I'd volunteer to close, giving the younger managers the opportunity to go out and be with their friends.  Kind of a nice gesture, really.  They're only young once.  Should enjoy their youth.  Get out more.  What's that?  Hugo needs more root beer.

So on and on it went.  Saturday after Saturday.  OK.  It really wasn't that long--only about 6 or 8 Saturdays, I think, before I asked Hugo out.  Yes, I did.

I did the asking.  You see, some Irish guys my siblings and I know were coming to town.  Set to perform on a not-so-Sunday-Bloody Sunday at the Rose Bowl.  I wondered if he'd want to go too.  I asked Joe.  How would he feel if I asked his childhood friend to the U2 concert we were going to?  Oh, and how would he feel about the fact that I have a RAGING crush on said childhood friend?  He gave me his blessing, but not without sharing the very obvious elephant in the room:  If we made an attempt at a relationship, and it didn't work out, it would put Joe in a potentially awkward position.  I appreciated his honesty.  I couldn't pursue a friend of my brother-in-law without considering that.

But the truth is, it meant a lot that Hugo was a long-time family friend.  A whole lot.  We knew who the family was.  The history of the family.  Joe had eaten at Hugo's mother's table many, many times and if you knew Elaine Ambriz' cooking, you'd make darn sure you found yourself at her table too, by the way.  We knew that the family was a good family.  A loving, and committed family, with values that were so close to ours.  I felt safer for my children.  So I asked.

I stood in my parents' garage, and called him.  He seemed happy that I had wrangled his number from Joe and made the move.  And U2?  His brother and sisters had all seen them in concert--he was the only one who hadn't, and he'd love to see them.  His siblings like U2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Oh.  And he said YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He called me the following week.  Would I like to accompany him to a company Halloween party the night before U2?  Would I?!!!!!!  I mean, sure.  Thank you for thinking of me.  I'd love to.  (Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!)

The week before the U2 concert I textedLOL-ed, and I gushed to Christina, a co-worker.

But first things first.  The Halloween party.  He came to my condo to pick me up, with a make-up kit.  We were going as vampires, and he is an artist.  He painted his face.  It was horrifying, but from an artistic perspective, it was beautiful.  Greenish-gray skin, the illusion of veins under the surface, the obligatory drop of blood at the corner of his mouth.  And the bite marks on my neck.  *sigh*

We danced at the party, which was a big deal for me, the non-dancer (no rhythm, but mostly no dance-confidence).  Then we sat on a quiet sofa in a corner and we talked.  And talked.  And talked.  And talked.  He drove me home, and we talked some more.  At my door, he asked me if he could kis--Yes!

The next morning (U2-Day!!!!!!!), Danielle came into my room to ask me how my date with Hugo went.  She was "watching TV" when he came to do make-up the night before, and she loved his presence.  She had also met him at the restaurant I managed, where she worked as a busser.  She really, really liked him, and she was really rooting for us.  So she was eager when she came into my room.  When she asked me, I pulled the sheet over my head and cried.  My muffled reply was, "He's perrrrrrfect!!!!"

U2 was magical.  Seeing Bono on stage, one of the greatest humanitarians of our time, is a Spiritual experience.  The combination of that, and the hot guy I was with during the concert, made it a night to remember forever and ever.  We fell fast in love.

Another Halloween party, this time at my parents' house the following weekend, cemented our relationship.  The kids fell in love with him, even though we never expected them to so soon.  My family fell in love with him, even though we never expected them to so soon.  And he fell in love with all of them, for which I had secretly prayed.

As we trick-or-treated, my brother-in-law Matt put my nephew up on his shoulders.  Lee looked up at Hugo, whose hand he was holding.  "Can I go up on your shoulders?"  It was a position we would find them in every time we were out somewhere, until Lee got too big last fall.  Precious.

Before I knew it, my mom was cornering me, telling me to not let go of this guy.

I had already met Hugo's brother Luis, and a couple of his sisters had come to the restaurant on Saturday nights, so I had met them too.  By mid-November, I had met everyone but his sister Elsa who lives in Atlanta.  But we didn't let that stop us--we emailed & Facebook Messaged and got off to a great start.

On Christmas night, as we gathered in my parents' dining room, standing in a circle holding hands, my father prayed before we ate.  After his prayer, Hugo spoke up.  I can't tell you what he said.  Just that he was suddenly on his knee in front of me, and he had a ring...

I found out later, that he had asked my father's permission.  He asked my father's permission!  I said yes.

We took off to his parents' house to flash some bling.  There was a lot of energy, a lot of happiness.  And a whole lot more people in Hugo's childhood home, with all five kids and me.

We were in Big Bear with my family over the New Year weekend.  After all the kids were in bed, and the cabin was quiet, my mom and sisters had an intervention.  They told us we needed to get married sooner, rather than later.  They put the suggestion of eloping in our ears.  We pondered the possibilities.

Wouldn't it be fun if we eloped on Valentine's Day?  Hugo is a hopeless romantic, and as cliche as that notion could be to some people, to us, it sounded magical.  But remember, I managed a restaurant.  Managers didn't take time off over the Valentine's Day holiday.  We worked.  But, the night of February 13 found the restaurant easily managed.  Certainly nothing that required a hefty management staff.  Before we knew it, we ditched the restaurant, Joe, who was there for the entertainment, family friends who were there that night, and our own Danielle who was there with her girlfriends, all dressed up for their Winter Formal.  We left with everyones' blessings, and we were off.

It was 7:20.  Las Vegas was our destination for a quick wedding.  It is a 3 1/2 to 4 hour drive.  The courthouse closes at midnight.  We arrived at 11:20, with the help of the navigation of family as we conversed via text.

We thought we had it made, and that we could relax a little.  You can get married all through the night in  Vegas, so we kind of took a breather in the car while we waited for the clock to strike February 14.  There was a chapel right there.  How about we just go to that one?  So we walked on over to it, got in at around 11:50, and asked them if they wouldn't mind waiting until 12:00 so that we could have a Valentine anniversary.  We were married at 12:05, and the minister left.  We thought it odd, and then we saw other personnel leaving.  We discovered that the chapel closes at midnight.  In fact, all of the chapels in Vegas close at midnight!  Had we driven around looking for a chapel, we wouldn't have made it on time.  This would have been bad, considering we couldn't have stayed until morning--I had to work the next day, and Hugo had a Daytona 500 to watch with his sisters and brother.  Life does, after all, go on.

When the kids came home after their weekend with their dad, and Danielle was rested from her Winter Formal, we broke the news.  They were elated.  And thus began the healing of five wounded children, enjoying stability and love and all the things kids need in order to be well-balanced and happy.

We bought a house in Glendora, and even through our downs, we are counting our blessings.  The kids and me, because we have someone loving us and taking care of us.  Hugo, because he has the kids and me loving him and taking care of him.  We need each other.

Yesterday, another friend posted something on Facebook that caught my eye:

While you scream at your woman, there's a man wishing he could whisper in her ear.  While you humiliate, offend, and insult her, there's a man wanting to remind her how beautiful she is.  While you hurt her, there's a man wishing he could take her pain away, while you show her how low she is, there's a man wanting to show her how high she makes him.  Re-post if you're against Domestic Violence & Mental Abuse.

I thought about it, rather startled.  The writer was right.  There is a man out there wishing he could whisper loving words into her ear, reminding her how beautiful she is, wanting to take her pain away, who will show her how high she makes him.  He is the antithesis of Domestic Violence and Mental Abuse.  And to take it a step further, he even wants to take the lives of her children and make a positive difference for them.  He will take on their pain, and their needs, and he will be a healing balm to them.  I know.  I married him.

And it was this man who breathed in every prayer I ever prayed for my husband, for all those years.  The prayers weren't lost.  God heard every one, and he answered.  Thank you, Michelle, for praying with me.

More Than a Step-Dad...A Papi

This morning, as Hugo was walking down the hall on his way to the door, I told Lee, "Papi has to go back to work today."  He shot right back at me, "But it's supposed to be Summer Vacation!"  I said, "I know, but Papi still has to go back to work."  There was a quiet pause.  "I just don't get it," was his dejected reply as he looked down, shaking his head.  We kissed him good-bye, Hugo gave Lee the  morning speech he gives him every day as he leaves (about being a good boy, and making good decisions), and as Lee and I stood at the entrance way, we waved as Hugo drove off.

Back to reality.  It was a fabulous break for Hugo, to get away from having to wake up to an alarm, and then spend long hours at the office.  He had days at home to get things done, as anyone who knows Hugo Ambriz can visualize...he's not one to sit on the sofa channel-surfing.  He's a project man, making the most of his day.

So getting away for six of them was a good call, I'd have to say.  It was so good to put the stresses of home and family on the back burner, and just rest the brain and body.

This family-stress thing is new to the Papi of our House.  He has taken it all in stride, adjusting more completely to his sudden-family than even my greatest dreams could have hoped.  In his pre-family life, he would have a quiet apartment that was neat and clean when he'd leave for work in the morning--and then when he would return home at the end of the day, it would still be quiet, neat, and clean.  Now that he has a family, he has a house that is...lived in.  Always.  And with seven people living here, it isn't quiet.  Ever.

I'm thinking that it helped that he came from a family of seven children.  There was some serious ground-work laid that made the transition more easy, I'm sure.  And they did it with one bathroom.  (Elaine Ambriz is my hero!  She had five girls--and they never left the house without their hair done!!)

I'm a psycho-analyzer by nature.  I'll delve into the deep parts of your psyche so fast, it'll make your head spin.  So, knowing that the transition could be challenging for Hugo, I have checked in on him frequently, feeling him out for hidden stresses to the multiple levels of family rearing that have become common for him.  I've even honed-in on the specific probability of resentment he could feel over working as hard as he does, and seeing his paycheck get sucked away in the vortex of family need.

His response?  Every time I delve?  That even though he had the money at his disposal pre-family to do that which he chose...oh, you know...things like clothes (he has more than me), shoes (he has more than me), travel all over the U.S. to watch cars race around in a circle, music equipment, sound equipment, European travel, generous gifts to his family and friends, picking up the check on office lunches...?  His response, every time, is that even though he had all of those things, he lacked what he wanted more than anything else in the world.  A family.

He sees that with his family, he has purpose.  He is making an impact on the lives of five children that is beyond anything anyone else could give each of them.  He has a unique role...a role with a lasting legacy.  He is their step-father, yes.  But he is far more than the man who loves and married the mother of these children.  He is their Papi.  The man who is on the job.  The man who is doing and living out what dads do.  The man who gets dirty.  The man in the trenches.

This is a topic I think about, and talk about, and write about often.  This topic of Hugo, and his selfless contribution to our lives.  I am in awe.

So yes.  It sucks that he had to put on a tie, and with packed lunch in hand (ummm...yes...the office lunches aren't as frequent these days), walk the path to his car, and join the rush hour traffic.

Maybe, as a thank you, I can provide him with a quiet, neat and clean house to come home to.  Dinner on table.  Stella chilled.  I can try.  I will try.  Sigh.  But it's not likely.  But, he will be greeted at the door, Labrador included, to the hugs and kisses of a family excited to see him.  And I will get the joy of the voyeuristic...sneaking a peek at a man who smiles in return.  With his face, and with his spirit.