Unappoachable?

I have noticed people who seem powerful, are so with a strategy: They are unapproachable. They do not have an open door friendly policy. You have to choose your words carefully and make sure you get the result you want from a very short interaction with them. Some are genuinely  so due to their position and their very many duties, but at their presence, however short, you feel welcomed and respected. I am not talking about them. I am talking about those powerful people that have an invisible bubble around them. You cannot get to them. You are intimidated by them and scared to talk openly with them.  You feel scared of them, and you sometimes find it easier not to approach them about different matters. They benefit from this. You may lose some benefits or you rights because you did not confronted these unapproachable people when you had to.  The truth is, they are more scared of you. They are waiting for your remarks and as soon as they sense the slightest hint, you quickly see their defensive responses and actions. So do not be afraid, speak up! What is the worst thing that can happen?

Check Boxes

I do not know if it is an American thing or a condition of modern age.  It seems like people are running around, following some pre-planned blue print, making sure they check some previously determined, often similar, items on their things to do before they die. Apart from the mandatory educational process that one has to go through to find or make their own place in the world, majority seem to be searching for their mates, some even aiming to find that person and settle down before a certain age, have their first child before a certain age, and then after the magically decided three years, have the second one. After having endured so many failed relationships and many many dates,  as soon as having their dream of a partner and a child, they look for opportunities to get rid of that child, or later even partner, any chance they get for minutes and hours or days here and there, as if s/he is a disease. In addition to necessary daycare or nanny arrangements to allow parents to work, they want sitters and grandparents, anything that would allow them to have a date night again.  It becomes unbelievable if a parent refuses a business trip to be with their baby, or refuses a late party for baby's sleep routine and comfort. It becomes hard to believe that a parent may actually enjoy the company of their baby more than the alternatives presented to them.  Friends and colleagues recommend getting a sitter to celebrate an occasion and night out, to get a break, not even occurring to them that mom and dad won't enjoy that celebration without their baby.  Along the way, most people buy a townhome and after a few years, a single home, and then once all the dust settles, all they want to do is to retire. Finally after 30-40 years of hard work, retirement comes along and they have to downsize the childless house they worked so hard to pay for and cannot maintain anymore and move to a condominium or retirement community, all that if they are lucky enough to still be together at that point. You wonder if they think about the meaning of all these boxes they check and whether they remember to smell the roses and enjoy everything along the way too.

Purto Vallarta and beyond

The last trip I took before having a baby, while pregnant, was to attend a friend's wedding in Pueto Vallarta, Mexico. The destination was so peaceful but somehow worried spouse and parents added to my stress of traveling pregnant even though my doctor had approved it.  I wanted to enjoy it and relax as much as possible knowing it would be long before I would have the chance to travel so far freely again. I myself was not the same as before anymore. I was responsible for a life within me. I was determined to make the best of the trip though. The pacific ocean and calm enviornment, good weather and food, and seeing old friends reunited, helped a lot. The wedding day arrived. A wedding by the beach. We went and sat on a bench. Three other guests came to sit next to us. All of a sudden the bench broke, or fell down, and we went down with it! Luckily it was not too high and under it was soft sand, but it did not matter. I was in tears, worried about my son. What the hell did I do? What if I lose him or something goes wrong with him? What can I do far from my doctor and home in Mexico? How am I going to live for the rest of my life? I did not understand much of the gorgeous ceremony and beautiful wedding even though my son's movements and kicking was reassuring me he was there, active and happy, like other nights. We went back home. We were grateful for making it safe and for our healthy boy. We regretted not enjoying the pacitifc ocean and wedding as much as possible later on. Above all, I was grateful for my healthy son and being able to carry on with our life and little family.

A month or so later there was a sad news. Sherryl Sandberg's husband passed away unexpectedly. Later we learned they were vacationing in the same exact place we were a month earlier: Purto Vallarta. My memories of being terrified there came back, except this time someone else experienced the worst for real. I felt for her and her family so much. Of all places to face a tragedy in a gorgeous vacation place where you are supposed to relax and make good memories, is hard to swallow.

During the last year, I lost a brother quickly to lung cancer. Two years ago my father passed unexpectedly.  These events affected me deeply specially due to circumstances I was facing each time: I could not care for my father due to long distance and things happening faster than we could process and act on, as well as other limitations posed on me during the hardest time of my life by my employer. I had to make hard choices, and choosing integrity made me pay a very high price of not being there with my dad.  I could not care for my brother because of having to nurse my son, having just returned to work after a few months of maternity leave, and having lost our support for child care all at the same time.  I was left with many what ifs, and what I could have dones, feelings of guilt and anger, but I did carry on with life every day, one day at a time.  Surprisingly, even though losing a sibling is more unexpected than a parent, losing my father has been harder on me. Maybe because I could not see him, or because of a closer bond I had with him, or because of tough choices I had to make during his passing, or maybe my son made it clear where my focus and priority should be as a mother when my brother was passing.

Now, a year after that Purto Vallarta trip, Sherryl Sandberg gave a great graduation speech at Berkley, going over her experience that I could somewhat relate too, though losing a partner and father of your children is harder than I can even imagine. She gave good tips that can guide one cope with such tragedies when they hit. My favorite quote of her there is this: "The easy days ahead of you will be easy. It is the hard days—the times that challenge you to your very core—that will determine who you are. You will be defined not just by what you achieve, but by how you survive".  You can watch her full speech here:

https://www.facebook.com/sheryl/videos/10156847483930177/

Mom Talk

Motherhood: Realizing that one of the most important and vital conversations of your day is about the frequency, size, density, and color of your baby's poo and that you have become one of *those* women!

زابل

امروز صبح در رادیو ملی واشنگتن دی سی‌، گزارشی از خشکسالی در مرز افغانستان و ایران پخش شد. در برنامه با یک پیر مرد زابلی کشاورز مصاحبه شد. صداش در زمینه بود و برگردان انگلیسی روش. از این میگفت که کشاورزی تنها راه در آمدشون هست، که دولت ایران هیچ سرمایه گذاری در آنجا نمیکنه و خشکسالی سالهای متوالی ضربه زیادی به مردم آنجا زده. اینکه هیچ کارخانه ای‌ آنجا نیست. حتی واردات کمی که از افغانستان می‌کردند دیگر امکان پذیر نیست چون دولت مرز رو به خاطر ترافیک مواد مخدر بسته. اینکه رسانه‌های ایران زابل رو خیلی‌ پوشش نمیدهند. و من به این فکر می‌کردم که در تمام مدت زندگی‌ در ایران، هیچ شناخت كافى‌ از زابل و مردمانش نداشتم و هیچ وقت صدای آن‌ هموطنانم را نشنیدم. فقط يك بار سفرنامه اى چاپ كانون پرورش فكرى كودكان و نوجوانان از يك خبر نگار كه به سيستان و بلوچستان رفت بود را خوانده بودم. عكس هاى آن كتاب و آشنايى با شدت فقر آنها و اينكه بچه هاى آنجا چقدر متفاوت از من زندگى ميكردند، من را به شدت تكان داده بود. حالا صبح ، در راه کار، این سر دنیا، صدای این مرد زابلی به گوش من میرسه. راستی‌ پیر مرد میدون صداش رو مردم در آمریکا امروز صبح شنیدند؟ می‌دونه واشینگتن دی سی‌ کجاست؟ اثر این گزارش ٔبر زندگی‌ او چه خواهد بود؟ آیا سفر خبر نگارهای بی‌‌بی‌سی نیوز و ان پی‌ آّر برای تهیه این گزارش باعث توجّه هر چند موقتی به این مردم شده؟

My own family

My life changed drastically during the past two years, not just by losing family members, but by happy occasions of gaining new ones too. I became a wife; I became a mother; I yet again became an aunt. So many beautiful things happened and sadly life got in the way of truly celebrating these life changing events.  I am glad I finally found my partner and finally my dream of becoming a mother became true. I am blessed. Every morning my son gives me the most beautiful smiles. He reminds me it is a new day and anything is possible. After a day's work, his smile is all we need to take away our tiredness and give us energy to carry on. Thank you universe for lining up all the stars and giving us our healthy small family. Thank you my family for all I have learned from you. Love and motherhood is the most amazing life experience of all; The one that makes you feel truly vulnerable and strong at the same time. May we be able to protect and grow this angel that is trusted with us.

Let this blog reflect all the joy I have experienced and lessons I have learned as  a result too! I have a lot to catch up with.

Peace at last

Once upon a time I used to write here. I would reflect on any interesting, small or big event or problem, analyze it, or just record it for my memory. I used to find it therapeutic. After some point, the events and issues got so big, so overwhelming, so unbelievable to grasp and understand, that I gave up.  I guess Americans say that is when shit hits the fan.  Over the years I struggled trying to figure out how I could be of any help and support to my oldest brother. He always was struggling with one crisis or another, refusing to acknowledge and treat the root cause of all his sorrows. Situation went from bad to worse to worst, emotionally, financially, and finally physically beyond anything anyone could do. I lost a brother to stage four lung cancer. But worst than that I lost a brother I could not save, I could not help, no matter what I and people close to me tried to do. Smoking is the symptom of what killed him. The issues that made him smoke so heavily everyday for many years were the real killer, but of course we feel better blaming cigarettes.  May you rest in peace my brother; may you forgive us for all we could not or would not do for you.  May we find peace with ourselves.