The Lina & Philip Chronicles: Pt. 1

So I'm a Titi to a set of amazingly smart, sassy, funny, adorable, three-year-old twins (y'all please pray for my sister and brother-in-law!), and for about 10 days out of the month I squat on my sister's couch in the DMV area while I love on these babies and spend quality time with my family (Mami is living there, too). These chronicles will give you a glimpse into the marvelously chaotic life we live raising twin toddlers.

____________

Scene: Pre-dinner homework hour, kitchen table. Lina is dilly-dallying and digressing, and her father reminds her to get back to work. She's not feeling it.

LINA: ...blah blah blah

(no, she really truly said BLAH BLAH BLAH to her father! I wanted to run out of the room and never return!)

In a surprisingly calm and even tone, my BIL lets her know that's not an acceptable way to speak to him; out of embarrassment, she starts crying. For someone who hates to be yelled at, she sure does push on boundaries.

But anyways, I don't know if y'all know much about twins, but what I'm learning is that this pair are RIDE OR DIE for one another, you hear me? So, at witnessing his sister in tears, Phil starts to chime in, and both his parents tell him to stay out of it. Then...

PHIL: I want to ask a question...

ME: (to self) it's a trap; don't let him ask a question!

BIL: OK Phil what's your question?

PHIL: You're a bad man, Daddy. You're a bad man to my sister!

Y'all. Y'ALL. 

I can only pray to have people in my life willing to jump in the line of fire for me like these kids are for each other!

I 💗 them so much.

Love & Balls,
Jaded
-----
don't know what I'd ever do without you
from the beginning to the end
you've always been here right beside me
so, I'll call you my best friend

#JadedTurns40

Y'all. It's been about 10 years since I got my first tattoo. Since I decided to become a full-time writer. Since I told my then-husband to get the fuck on up out my momma's house with his bullshit. Since my return to my Brooklyn roots. Since I first connected with most of you.

And now I'm 40!

I mean, I don't look it, so it's all cool. But my brain knows its age, as does my eyes, back, knees, feet, and uterus. And The Voices. They're all very aware.

Here are some reflections I've had and continue to have as I think about this milestone birthday:

1. I miss having my extended family in my daily life. I miss my Grandma, still, always. I hope that, if her essence or spirit is really among us, she's more proud than ashamed of the choices I've made. "Sorry about the body art, divorce, excessive drinking, and indiscriminate 'dating'. You definitely raised me better than that."

2. It's OK to be selfish, especially as my kids get older. It was a blessing in disguise that I had them so young; it means I'm still young enough to enjoy my kid-free years now that they're pretty much grown.

3. The more Brooklyn changes, the more at home I feel in the Dominican Republic. In fact, when I travel there to visit family, I refer to it as 'going home'.

4. My Black Is Beautiful. And it's OK if my shade of Black is a little bit lighter than other folks' Black. And I don't care if you have a problem with that, or anyone else's Blackness. I don't have to overcompensate for that, or even explain it to you. Plus my 'fro is the truth and the light, so there's that. #BlackGirlsAreMagic #BlackLivesMatter

5. I can only be held responsible and accountable for MY actions. DASSIT.

What can I look forward to in my 40th year of life? My 2015-16 Bucket list includes finishing up my first novel, plus starting on a few other book projects I have in the works; traveling; growing my Pluma y Tinta family; reaching my health and wellness goals; mastering the art of frying chicken; redecorating my apartment; Becoming Queen Copywriter of the Marketing Department at work. Because why not?

My year starts now. I'm excited for it and all the changes that are in store.

With my grown ass babies. Ay!

Except that mammogram my doc says I need to start getting now that I'm entering the grandma years. Y'all can keep that shit. I don't wanna!

*smooches...for me and my fabulous 40 years of life*
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and I'm still accepting gifts well into the summer, so don't feel bad if May 23 came and went and you didn't get me anything :)

Next Year, The Quinces Will Be In DR

She's so feisty, I can't help but see myself in her and love her to death. And since her sister went off to college, N has become my shenanigans road dawg, and I do believe it's brought us closer.

I mean, listen, instead of telling me I'm uncool or embarrassing, she's usually the first in line to participate in my foolishness. How many moms can say that?

Happy Birthday, my Black Queen-in-Training! I look forward to being by your side as you make this world your bitch!

*smooches...just for my schmoo-pie today*
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ain't she grand?

Sister Summer 2014

Mari and I have been using this title ever since she came to stay with me for a couple of summers while she attended a program at Columbia, and now it's a thing we do.

And so I present to you the latest installment of Sister Summer, in photos and captions.

Mari's new pet, Smokey, who thought
we were BFFs. We're not.

My books and an empty bottle
of wine. Accurate.

I'm wider than I want to be; still cute, tho.

Super cute AND stylish: Jaded Babies.

I don't remember a time when we weren't a foursome.

*smooches...looking forward to many more times like this*
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what would I do without these gals?

Day 10//30 Days Of Yoga: A Healthy Jaded Update

Listen, no one is more shocked than I am that I've gone TEN STRAIGHT DAYS of practicing yoga. Like, I've done yoga at a Yoga People in Downtown Brooklyn, or I've done videos at home when my schedule didn't allow me to travel to the studio. Ten days, y'all. That's longer than most of my post-divorce fauxlationships!

And because y'all know there is no shame in my game, here's me and all my extra weight in all our flexy-glory:

Downward dog

Chair pose; need
to work on my arm
positioning here

Pigeon pose; my
absolute favorite!

Forgot what this one is, but I
don't have full range of motion
anyway, bad back and all...

I'm trying for savasana (corpse
pose) here; K will have none
of it SMH!!

Definitely looking forward to the next 20 days. I am planning to add in some light workouts before yoga, and then return to socacize at the end of the month. And of course everyday I struggle with my food addiction. Baby steps, you know? I don't want to injure myself, thereby giving me an excuse to quit.

But so far, each yoga practice has left me feeling great (well, except for one, but we won't dwell on that. I think I just had a bad attitude that day) and I love that I look forward to my yoga time every day. I'm especially proud that I've figured out ways to continue my practice even though I'm traveling a lot this month--I NEVER do that.

Look at me, all grow'd up!

*smooches...namasteing all up and through this bitch*
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anyone want to join me?

Where My Tuition Payments Went

ME: someone is trying to get me to watch "Fargo" on TV.

K: Isn't that about wolves? And the wilderness?

ME: No... there's a movie called Fargo with Steve Buscemi but it's not about wolves.

K: Yes! That book, it's a classic, about wolves!

ME (thinking really hard): You mean Call of the Wild?

K: YES! Is it written by someone named Fargo?

ME (googles): NO. It's by Jack London.

K: There's something with an "F" about wolves and the wilderness...

ME: You mean White Fang?

K: Possibly.

ME: How is that anywhere close to "Fargo"?

K: There's a book about wolves! I'm going to find it!

Lord Jesus, help this child of mine. Freshman year has clearly stolen her brain.

*smooches...realizing my kids are me all over again*
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can you think of anything scarier??

The Myth Of Motherhood

In typical Jaded fashion, I tend to stay off of social media during big US holidays, because sometimes I just get tired of all the talk about the same damn thing. Mother's Day is no exception. I mean, of course I enjoy seeing photos of everyone's mom--I'm nosy like that--but it's the memes and overly-saccharine status messages that just do me in. Things like "Nothing is more rewarding/important/meaningful than motherhood" or "My mom is my best friend!" or "I'm now complete because I have this child." You get the picture. I hate that shit.

At first I thought "Jaded, that's because you're dead inside" but no, I think maybe some of y'all are a little too obsessed with buying into the Myth of Motherhood.

Being a mom isn't EVERYTHING. It really isn't. I mean, my kids are cool people, were cool from jump, and we have fun together and OF COURSE I care about and love them, but they are not my life. They are my job and responsibility. I brought them into this world and it's now my JOB and RESPONSIBILITY to provide them with the tools they'll need to carry on well as adults. Those tools can include lots of things, but that's basically my JOB and RESPONSIBILITY. I was lucky enough to have cute babies, too, so that made it easy for me to want to do these things for them.

My life, however, is not defined by these girls. And my best friends are adults who are my age or at least in my generation or adjacent. I was not incomplete before having a child. I was actually fine. A little reckless and quite drunk a lot, but fine. When they move on to their own homes and lives, I will be fine, too. We will come together on occasion, eat, gossip, sing off-key, and make fun of people, but we will live our individual lives and be fine.

I honor and appreciate the women who raised me and made it their job to take responsibility for my upbringing, but there is more to life--MY life, at least--than being a mom.

But I'm dead inside, so what do I know.

*smooches...fresh off a smooth gossip sesh with my mom*
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what? that's how we bond!

Why Yes, I Am Very Proud Of My Babies

In another episode of "Raquel Is a Better Parent Than You," below is an email K sent to N's vice principal. It brought a (thug) tear to my eye. Pay special attention to the bold portion; that's where it is evident that she is my child.

Hello Mrs. [Vice Principal],

My name is K. I am N's older sister. I am a freshman at [fancy school that costs LOTS of money] studying Electrical Engineering and Sociology.

When I turned 18, N was very excited because she wanted me to chaperone one of her school trips. However, when I asked about her senior trips, for the only one she will have, chaperones must be over 21.

I don't understand why this age requirement is so high given that I am legally an adult now and I was hoping you could explain it to me. The only reason I would think it would be a problem was if alcohol was involved but this is an eighth grade trip to [typical local senior trip-type place].

I was also hoping that despite it, you would allow me to chaperone the trip anyway. I am very responsible and kids younger than me tend to obey me, so there wouldn't be an issue with that.

I also think that N deserves this, given the amount of ostracization and semi-bullying she has had to put up with for the past three years. I know N really wants to go on this trip but I fear just how much fun she will have when she is constantly excluded from any group activities. She deserves and should have at least one person to have fun with her, who wants to be with her and not just a buddy she's been paired up with. I can be that person since I will be home by then. This will be one of her last memories of this school and I want it to be an excellent one.

N told me that it was the Chancellor's rule though she couldn't explain; I understand if it may not be possible to allow me to chaperone but I am pleading with you to make this one exception.

I apologize for sending this email so late. I am in the last two weeks of classes before finals and as I'm sure you know, it gets very hectic around this time.

Thank you for hearing me out,
K

P.S. I cc'd my mother on this as well. She knows about this situation and will probably want to know what I said.

*smooches...resisting the urge to 'reply-all' with: SHE TOLD YOU!*
----------
after years of witnessing my "letters to corporate" K really went all in for her first one!

Translation?

ME: (threatening N): Mira te voy a tirar este zapato en la misma cara, coño...!!!

N: (scared eyes, running) CARA MEANS FACE!

*smooches...still giggling*
----------
who can stay mad after that?

Jaded Photographs: December 2013 Edition

"Ride Or Die"

There's very little else that matters.

*smooches...trying to exist in a different space*
----------
how y'all been? miss me?

This Is What Depression Looks Like, Too

ME: (self-medicating, again) I want Thai food but I also want nachos. UGH. Why don't they sell nachos at the Thai place?

N: (from her room) ...

ME: I CAN FEEL YOU JUDGING ME!

*smooches...waiting for one of y'all to come get her*
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there's a funny dynamic between us these days; a good one, though, so don't be alarmed

And That's Why She's Walking Around With A Black Eye

ME: (describing my fake alter egos) ...and then there's Maritza- she's a high school drop out, is loud, carries a razor tucked away in her mouth and will cut you if you even think about looking at her man...

N: Wait- how does your alter ego have a boyfriend but you don't.

ME: ...

*smooches...putting a 13-year-old up for sale on eBay*
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I mean the absolute NERVE

My Bad, Did I Forget To Say Bye?

First, for old time's sake, some welcome back music:



OK so listen, I took another impromptu break. Whatever. Don't get all fake-upset. You clearly did just fine filling your days without me popping up in your inbox every day.

So what's new with me? Let's see...I'm still single (yeah, baby!!), K's off at college (one down, one to go), I've gained more weight and give no fucks about it, and I've finally decided to put myself on a real budget (which I really had no choice about; paying for college is a BITCH!).

N and I are settling into our non-K existence just fine so far, and I've been keeping busy trying to make my literary life bigger and better and more well-known throughout NYC. And of course, I've been ruining my eyesight and killing braincells watching TV and movies until the wee hours of the night. Writing? Yeah, not so much. But soon. SOON.

Meanwhile, it's Latino Heritage Month; be sure and hug a Mexican today or something.

So, what y'all been doing?

*smooches...only posting to keep my online fame active*
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unfortunately I need you fools to make shit happen. UGH. I hate needing people...

Thirteen Years Of This Bundle Of Energy

I decided to have a second baby for two reasons. One, I was unhappy and thought another cuddly baby would solve all my problems; and two, I firmly believed (and still do) that every child needs a sibling. My first experience as a mom was a breeze-K was such an easy baby-that I just knew the sequel would be just as fun. Enter N.

A sister or brother is seriously a friend for life

She's always been a rough-and-tumbly kind of baby, climbing up on kitchen counters, eating sugar and baby powder when unattended, hanging precariously from monkey bars and speaking out of turn. Just a pure thug. I learned early on not to let that little face fool me.

There was one instance while we were potty training her, where she pooped on the floor and then kept it moving like it wasn't her. Seconds later K stepped in it because HELLO, who expects to find poop in the middle of the floor inside the house? Oh my, did that little thug laugh her ass off...she gave no fucks about poor K's poopie foot. She'd done her business and was moving on with her day.

And that's pretty much how she's YOLO'd her entire existence on this earth. It's been 13 years of What Will N Do/Say Next?

Giving no fucks at her Guela's birthday party

Giving no fucks about chicken pox

Giving no fucks about website photo shoots

Giving no fucks about not knowing how to swim yet

UV Rays? She gives no fucks

And I've enjoyed every minute of it.

Now she's this huge, almost-young-woman who plays sports and builds things out of nothing but pure imagination and scraps of whatever she can find, who has opinions and knowledge of stuff and grown-folk underwear, and I'm all HUH?! Where's my squooshy baby?!

Giving no fucks about empty calories, either

Still, I regret it not.

HAPPY (Belated) BIRTHDAY, 

SCHMOO-PIE!

*smooches...just for N on her birthday*
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let's see if I still feel this way next year...

I Awake Each Day With The New Sunrise

So yesterday...yeah, man, I was going to post something but nothing seemed good enough. See, it was the anniversary of my grandmother's death and, well, you already know.

Then today I'm on The Twitter and scattered all over my timeline is the aftermath and remnants of an ugly mess (that had nothing to do with me) playing itself out in public. This happens at least once a month on #BlackTwitter but it doesn't make it easier to swallow each time. At first I let it suck me in because c'mon, I'm human. Shit like this is tasty and I tend to be greedy. But then it wasn't. Then it was giving my bubbleguts. Then it was leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Then it was reminding me to mind my own business and not frolic among the negative energy.

My grandmother didn't come to this country, watch other people's kids, take in other people's laundry and basically make herself sick taking care of us for me to sit at a desk watching someone's life being dragged through the internets.

Earlier this evening, after a feast of Buffalo wings and waffle fries (OH YEAH) I took K to get her very first tattoo. When we parted ways so she could go with her dad for the weekend and I could go home to be lazy, she ran to hug me and said "I feel like I should stay; I just got my first tattoo with you. It's like postpartum depression or something!" and let me kiss and squeeze her cheeks while using baby talk. In public.

This is what I should be concerning myself with: my family. Hugging them, kissing them and treating them whenever they deserve it and I can afford to.



Blessed is this life...never forget it.

*smooches...celebrating being alive*
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I don't think grandma would be happy about the body art, but she'd be happy about the togetherness.

One Angry Duck!

Donald tried to kill me!

So I had this dream this morning, during my 7AM nap, that N and I found this dying duck outside our door. But it wasn't really our door as this whole dream took place in a cross between my old apartment on Stuyvesant Ave and Halsey Street and my grandmother's old railroad apartment on Patchen Avenue in Brooklyn.

So this duck was nearly dead, y'all! Its feathers were replaced with this leathery skin and its breathing was labored, so with 15 seasons of ER under my belt, I assessed that the duck was dehydrated and needed to be put in water ASAP. We grabbed a white painter's bucket, filled it with water and yes, put a grown ass duck in the bucket. The effects were immediate. Feathers seemed to reappear and the duck was breathing better and even frolicking in the water. I felt confident enough to leave N in charge of its care while I went off to do some dream-like things.

Cut to N running into the room to inform me that the duck escaped. So I ran around the house looking for it with her, because all of a sudden it was so important we find it. And when we spotted it in the kitchen, IT ATTACKED US. As we tried to coax it back into the bucket it pecked at us and tried to bite us and was flapping its wings angrily at us. I was all, "What the fuck? I just saved your fucking life!"

But this duck would not let up, and my dream self yelled at my real self to wake the hell up; this bird was coming for blood and I wanted out! And then I woke up, relieved.

What the hell, y'all? I haven't eaten duck in nearly two years. Why was this thing trying to cut my throat up with its beak?

UPDATE: So I shared this dream with my co-worker and we decided that K is the duck. So much to think about right now...

*smooches...resolved to never eat almonds before bed again*
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I mean, what else could it have been?

United Colors Of Benetton

Whenever someone says "I could never raise kids in the City" I look at my babies and I know that those people are wrong. The City is the BEST place to raise my daughters. Not only are they surrounded by people who look like them, they're also exposed to so many other cultures. What better way to learn about life? Case in point, K and her friends:

After such an amazingly difficult and heart-wrenching week, it was pure bliss to see these kids together, laughing, talking and eating all the damn food like teenagers are wont to do having a great time together. They have the world at their feet and so much potential waiting to be tapped. I'm excited to see where they end up in life, and equally upset that world events will try to sap their greatness. But at least I have their backs. Whatever it takes and by any means necessary.

I will continue to fight for days like this, where we're surrounded by friends and family who love us and make us happy. I will continue to fight for my babies' future. Anything, just to keep these smiles shining bright.

My baby is 18, y'all!

With her Guela, sis and auntie

K has always been the oldest of the cousins!

Good times all around!

How beautiful is my family?!

What did you do with your Saturday?

*smooches...still on a party high*
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it was such a perfect day...

You Get What You Need

My babycakes turns 18 tomorrow. That little bit that barely fit over my torso is now a full-grown, able to vote, adult. WOW.

Look at those cheeks!

We started her coonery lessons early.

I didn't crop this pic on purpose; K w/her Celia. They were BFFs!

Where the panda obsession began.

K the baby model. (c) 1995 Celia M.

I want to tell her that the world is hers for the taking, that nothing can stop her, and whatever she wants in life she can manifest, but this past week has made me doubt this advice is true. At the very least, I speak into the Universe that my baby get what she needs.



This advice is as much for me as it is for her. To say I was at the precipice of a downward spiral in college is an understatement. Having a kid, for real, straightened me out (a little bit). Having to be a role model and caregiver and nurturer and nurse and educator and guardian and nutritionist and enforcer got us both through these 18 years with minimal scars: only one of us had to go to therapy! (Hint: it wasn't me.)

During her college orientation. COLLEGE!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY LOVE. 

YOU'RE MOMMA'S SPECIAL PRINCESS. 

NEVER FORGET IT.

Partners in crime for life!

And a special shout out to everyone who helped me raise her. You guys rock my socks!

*smooches...just for my boog-schmoog*
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how adorable was/is my baby???

Take This Music And Use It

A while ago I read Dr. Weill's Eight Weeks to Optimal Health and in it the doctor suggests that we distance ourselves from newspapers and the 11 o'clock news, because it poisons us. And I've tried to do that since I read that, but this George Zimmerman trial has taken over my soul.

I'm not going to tell you what to think or do or anything else with regard to this trial. In fact, I'm disabling comments because I don't want anyone to act ignorant on my blog. I'm not trying to be the next person in an orange jumpsuit.

But I am accepting that the outcome of this trial is not within my control. I'm not on the jury. I'm not the judge and I'm not on the prosecution's team. I'm releasing the anxiety I feel in my soul over this whole case. I'm going to go home and hug my babies and be thankful that they're okay. And be hopeful that justice will prevail in Florida.



Take a moment and think of everything that is stressing you out right now. Is it worth a heart attack? Is it worth your tears? Will your bad feelings or bad health, in any way, change the source of your stress? Be hopeful. Let go of the badness.

*smooches...practicing my yogic breath*
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this trial, though, is getting on my LAST motherfucking nerve. LAST. ONE.

So, This Happened.

You must know by now that when I'm gone for a bit it means I have more pressing things going on than updated this outdated website. Yes, outdated. Everyone is on Instagram or Tumblr; blogs like this are getting left behind like printed periodicals.

But whatever, I was busy living life and doing things. Like curating an event for Lit Crawl NYC this fall. And planning my next reading at La Casa Azul Bookstore on the 21st. And just working on my various writing and personal and home projects. Plus we fit in some fun stuff. Like so:

I went to the Sesame Flyers mas band launch. Because I'm playing mas this fall along the Parkway. I'm thinking of maybe one of these two costumes:

This costume allows me to still eat junk food.

This one...not so much...

K graduated from my alma mater, Brooklyn Technical High School. MY BABY!

BTHS Alum, 20yrs apart!

Soon this will be a pic of THREE BTHS alum

Straight out of a scene from "Mad Men"

And then, just last weekend, I took N to her first fete--Kes the Band LIVE at B.B. Kings Times Square. AND WE MET KEES DIEFFENTHALLER (the lead singer).

We were the last group allowed to take a pic!

Oh, and DJ Robbie Styles and I are getting married. Allegedly. In my dreams.

Can you just picture our babies?!

What have you all been up to?

*smooches...still on cloud nine*
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let's see if I can go the whole month without disappearing...