Tag Archives: el chileno

Living Creatively, Openly


I started the new year in a very strange place, in my ex’s apartment. I really didn’t have any plans an thought it would be better than spending the new year alone with my kids, as I had the year before. Plus el chileno had come to casa mala for my Christmas Eve dinner. It was/is important to me that he spend time with poroto and vice versa. Plus Mala can’t say no to free wine.

Pero to say that it was easy or rather an uncomplicated new year would be dishonest. I think I had expectations and he did as well. With the court system out of our hair, we’ve been getting along better. We’ve been friendly, shared meals and drinks. Pero I worry that he thinks or hopes that we will get back together. It could have been the wine pero there were signs and moves that led me to believe this, and I feel bad if I opened myself to this. Lo quiero si, pero quiero estar con el and to be honest no creo that I want to be with anyone right now. I survived a year of single mami’hood revisited and now am actually quite peaceful and calm having my little apartment and having time to myself and my chicas.

But I also started the new year with expectations. I was secretly waiting for something to happen that didn’t. I understand why it didn’t happen pero that doesn’t mean it wasn’t disappointing, saddening even. Pero there’s a lesson in that and in this last year. I can accept it and roll with it.

This year I haven’t made any real resolutions. On New Year’s Eve another poet/amigo asked when I was going to publish a book, since he’s heard me reading for at least 5 years (and I’ve been writing for more). So I am going to gather poems and work on that and quizas gather my thoughts mejor on my mami’hood book. Those are the most pressing of book projects (I have multiple ones). I also want to not limit myself because I am worried about childcare and money. If this year has taught me anything, it’s that things do work out when they are supposed to and how they are supposed to. Pero there were many opportunities I didn’t take advantage of because I “knew” that I didn’t have money to travel or someone to stay with my children. Then I would feel resentful and angry when I saw other people taking those same opportunities. So I’m jumping in and trusting that what will be will and should be.

On the same track I am trying to be more creative, well rather feed my creativity on a daily basis in some way. So far I am planning collages, have started a poem, and went to a museum and today is only the 4th day of the year.

And dating. Towards the end of last year I started dating again pero besides going on dates with two people (hola cuz I know they may be reading), I also want to date myself, take myself places, hacer cosas. I have spent alot of time waiting, expecting, hoping and now I just want to do it my damn self. No mas waiting. I am open. I wouldn’t change the past and may even repeat things I have done pero I’m also ready pa’lo nuevo. Bring it.

Video found via / Ultraviolet Underground

Pencil Me In Papi


I love my hijas and not for nothing, despite what some may think of the choices I have made and continue to make, la Mapu and poroto are pretty kick ass and I’d like to think I had a little something to do with it. Pero Single Mami’hood 2.0 has been exhausting and the one thing that has frustrated me, isn’t that I feel like I have to do soooo much alone, pero rather that in the case of poroto, she has a father who is here and who can take an active role in her life. La Mapu has never really had a father around. Her papi is in Chile which has made visitation and co-parenting a non-issue. Pero Poroto has her father a few subway stops away.

Now don’t get me wrong, el Chileno is a good father, and I’ll admit that I’m still resentful that he insisted on going through the court, on the day my abuela passed no less, for child support as a way to punish me for my infidelities. And to this day I am getting split payments meaning I never get the full amount when I am supposed to, instead I get money in pedacitos which is killing my broke ass. Now in hindsight, I am regretting, not establishing through the court some sort of visitation decree.

I am not a fan of courts or the (in)justice system. And the last thing I want to do is drag a Latino man through a system that is stacked against him, me, and families like mine. And the idea is not to limit his access to our daughter pero rather to establish some regularity. As it stands now, he can see Poroto when he pleases. De facto this has meant that he usually picks her up after work on Thursday evenings and sees her on both Saturday and Sundays.

This time is sacred to me for a number of reasons. One, it gives me some alone time with la Mapu. We do homework, go to her favorite spots to eat, watch movies and chill without my attention having to be split. For so many years it was just la Mapu and me and it’s nice, especially for her to have that. Two, it gives me some time for myself. Since I work from home, it’s a treat to be able to sit and research a blog post without being interrupted every 10 minutes, work on poetry which requires my undivided attention, flirt, have a glass of wine, chat with amigas, do laundry without having to pry a toddler away from the machines that sell virgin mary rings for 50 cents.
Never mind that I rarely get a night out, to chill with friends, have a date, go dancing, perform poetry. This requires special negotiations since el Chileno doesn’t take Poroto overnight, ever.

La cosa is that when el Chileno does come, it’s never at a specific time. Usually on the weekends it’s before noon but sometimes it’s way afternoon and with little or no notice, so I can’t ever make plans ahead of time. Like yesterday he came at 4 pm. He had obviously gone out the night before and was hungover and I’d hate to admit it, pero I was a little jealous. Ay the privilege of the non-custodial parent, the Latino male, all of it. So I asked him if maybe we could create a little more solid schedule of pick up times. He looked at me like I was crazy. He explained how now that it was nearly summer he’d be keeping her for longer anyway, essentially telling me to chill. When I mentioned a business trip to DC, he said good luck with that, as in, I’m not helping your ass.

Now this is something that irked the fuck out of me when we were together too. He assumed and still does, that since I work from home, it’s not really work. Like it’s easy maintaining a Latino website that’s considered pretty damn important while wiping asses, potty training, coloring, singing the abc’s, cooking, not to mention the immigration stuff I’m working on building, the rwoc stuff, and poetry. Throw in tutoring for extra money, and I’m still broke, still can’t go to conferences since the majority of them have no childcare and even without the path I have chosen, there is no way in hell I can even afford a sitter to go for an interview for a “real” job like my mom thinks I should just suck up and do (that’s a whole separate post).

So what’s a mami to do? What do other mamis do. Do I insist on a schedule? Do I just give up and act like he’s useless and do whatever I need to do to do what I need to do?

I’m pretty damn frustrated right now.

PS : I ain’t too proud to beg…as always I accept donations, including money (you can paypal me) and babysitting!!!

Breaking Up is Hard to Do Pero Does it Really Have to Be?


When I entered the relastionship that is now ending, I did so with so many expectations and anxiety. It’s not like I had great examples of healthy relationships growing up with lies, egos, infidelities, edible crotchless panties and suicide attempts all as shining lights of what a heterosexual marriage like life could end in. No wonder I never wanted to get married or even live with someone. I liked my mother’s post-divorce life, even if it meant socks with holes and dinners of mashed potatoes and long hours working while I helped raised my little sister. Cuz it was also filled with the example of a Latina woman who worked her ass off and gave her kids an amazing education (and I’m not just talking school) and she dated. She was a damn good mother and dated. She would go dancing with Manny the Colombian. Sometimes Ed, the tall white one would take my sis and I to chucky cheese. There was Mahmoud with whom I would get into debates with about religion and women and the one man my mom let move in, Terry, probably the one I disliked the most.

I never saw my mom upset over a breakup after the one with my father. Although I’m sure she was. Pero no se. Maybe there also was a realization, that relationships are fun, beautiful things, hard things pero we don’t always need to be in one.

It’s funny, as my current relationship closes, it’s happening in a healthy way. That’s not to say that there aren’t fucked up things about it (mostly my fuck-ups, I will admit), pero el Chileno and I are doing what we should have done when we got together: asking questions and answering them with full self-knowledge about what our personal needs are. We both need spiritual guidence and the fact that we find that on different paths was an issue that should have been explored before we got serious, especially since he was taught that my path is Satan!!! We have different privacy needs. I for example need to pour out my life on a blog. It’s part of my identity pero I’d rather you not break into my Facebook account and read my paper journals that fill the bookcase. My politics are a way of life, not a hobby or a job. They are my values. They are how I raise my kids, how I love and yes how I fuck. This doesn’t mean I’m perfect pero that I try to live my life a certain way and I will and do fuck up. I’m passionate and impulsive, sometimes to a fault. I mean there is a reason I’m Mamita Mala.

Pero I’m grateful for this opportunity. As much as I will complain about how much talking I’ve been doing and how sometimes I’m just damn tired of so much talking, el Chileno and I have three years of talking to catch up on.