Sisterhood of motherhood

     Psicoprofilaxis Montaña y sus ridículos vídeos. Busca en youtube los vídeos de sisterhood of motherhood y luego empápate de cómo hay que llevar a una criatura como es debido.

Te felicito por no seguir la ridícula moda de poner al bebé delante, lo que te incapacita para hacer la mínima cosa. Esta es la mejor forma, la forma ancestral, para que el bebé se sienta libre y como un segundo y continuo testigo de que vivir es actuar. Una madre con su hijo a la espalda es una madre dinámica. Una madre con su bebé a la espalda es un ser anulado, una mujer obnubilada por su propia maternidad. Tengo cincuenta años y acarreé a mis bebés a la espalda y sobretodo no dejé de hacer las cosas que tenía que hacer en casa con la disculpa de que tenía al bebé al brazo. En un a época en que ya nadie llevaba a sus hijos en contacto con su cuerpo me tomaban un poco de chiflada. Sin embargo, el resultado ha sido muy bueno. Tengo un hijo de 29 y una hija de 27, muy distintos los dos; pero si algo tienen en común es su energía. Los dos son sociables , dinámicos y trabajadores.
 
Se pone de moda otra vez acarrear a los infantes, y el contacto cuerpo a cuerpo con el bebé. Pero en algo tenemos que diferenciarnos las sociedades modernas y tecnológicas de las supuestamente atrasadas.

A lo visto parece que está prohibido hacer otra cosa que no sea adorar al pequeñajo mientras acarreas a tu hijo por delante. ¿Quién friega entonces los platos y tiende la ropa? o ¿coje las bolsas de la compra?

Toda la vida y en todas las sociedades, las madres comunes han seguido trabajando mientras llevaban a sus hijos con ellas. Ahora cualquier individua tomada al azar entre esta nueva ornada de madres, en una sociedad envejecida en la que escasean los niños, parece como ya he dicho antes, obnubilada por su propia maternidad.
Aparece entonces la madre protagonista y egocéntrica, más de lo que lo hayan podido ser otras madres en la historia. Conocemos incluso los tristes ejemplos de LA NUEVA MADRE EMPERATRIZ , la que pretende tiranizar a toda la familia, abuelas, abuelos, hermanos, cuñadas, y todo tonto que se preste, e imponer sus propias normas, con el cuento de que ellas son madres.

   Y, a toda esta nueva generación, la de los selfies con niñita incluida la denominaría como La Nueva Generación De Madres Subidas Con Bebé e Hijos Futuras Promesas a Seres Repelentes.

   Ni que el mundo acabara de empezar con ellas. Pobres, pobres criaturas....

Driving drowsy....Chapter four.

   The normal thing to happen was having an accident, and that´s what we had: an unavoidable accident. And considering that we were under such many stupid circumstances, I am still wondering what was the variable which made us survive the crash. Was that a miracle? 
  

   The car slid suddenly out the road and we fell into void just in one second. I did not realized what had happen. Luis question was: "Where´s the bridge?". I did even shout till another second later when, out of a clear sky, I noticed that water was entering the car. Then I yelled in panic, and I called my mother. I just started calling my mother out, absolutely terrified, trying to get out of there, pushing the stuck doors, trembling in terror, fingering  on the jammed handles. And the water kept coming in, filling the inside of the car, as it was a bathtub or something worse as a sunk car on the bottom of a river somewhere.

    _ Are you alive?! Are you alive?_ I asked out to my co-travellers._ Then they whispered_ We´re fine._ It doesn´t matter any more!_ I told them back._  We´re going to die! No! I didn´t want to die!_ I cried, and kept crying_ I can´t open the doors! Joachim! I can´t!

   Then I saw Joachim passing above Luis. His side door was stuck too. He tried to open that door, the driver side door. We were wheels up. Any of the windscreens had been broken. Then he got it! He hit the door, and opening it a cold draft aired into the car.

   The dog got out, and I followed the dog. I could pass behind the driver sit and reach the exit. Joachim was not outside. Luis was caught. The steering wheel against his breastbone kept him against the backrest. 

   As soon as I was out I stood up on the big flat river stones settled down in the middle of the riverbed and I looked at the stream running down both sides and above them, soaking my shoes . I am a good swimmer; but I am not very sure if I would have been able to saved my life just swimming wrapped in a long black skirt overalls made of corduroy, swimming down and against the freezing stream. If we had fallen into a deep river pool we three would have drowned. Thanks goodness , we were not in the bottom. Then I Looked up. I saw the moon glittering through the passing gray clouds. Then I looked back to the car. And I saw poor Luis trapped. The water was reaching his waist. Then I saw Joachim getting out of the car. I could see him very clearly because of his white shirt and his white trousers. He was glowing under the moonlight as a lost glum angel, pacing up and down, wandering among the stones, as he was looking for something. I noticed a weird quirky behaviour in him.

_ What are you doing?_ I asked him.

_ I need a stone to break the steer wheel. We had to break him free from that trap.

   Then he kneed down and took a medium-size stone.

_ That´s impossible. We have to climb the ravine up instead. We have to look for help. We need to go out of here._ I said. He did not listen to me. I saw Luis. He was conscious but likely to be seriously injured. His brown black face was fading. I had got to go. The dog was sniffing around the water to find a safe path to cross out the stream. I followed it so that not to fall into a river pool.

   When I reached the river side I started to climb up clutching bushes and blackberries. I remember that despite the undergrowth prickles and thorns my fingers did not hurt because they were frozen and insensitive.  

   I had to climb the steep rocky wall, a face cliff which holded ice and snow,and at least forty metres up to get out of there. 
   Finally, when I reached the end, and I felt safe, I looked back. Down was pitch dark. I could just listen to the sound of water running peacefully. Then I called out Joachim. No one answered.   

  

DRIVING DROWSY- Passing by Riaño before It was destroyed.

   Look at this video. This place was known as the Spanish Switzerland once. I was reborn in this sacred place that time, when Riaño neighbours had already started their fight for saving their homes and land. President Felipe González was empowered those years to have stopped such a environmental devastation. He did not. He and his rich friends were too much interested in the real estate speculation. 

CHAPTER III

      The dog was sit down on my feet warming my legs.I did not want to cast a gloom over us. I only cast the last look through the door glass while laying absolutely hopeless my body back along the seats. Then I saw like a kind of huge very tall ghosts emerging outside. Dozens of clear grey slender spectres stretching their threatening arms around an old little defenseless car and our poor lives inside with.

   _ What´s that?_ I exclaimed in terror pointing to the phantoms.
   _ Do you mean that?_ It was Joachim answering._ Look at that Luis. Castile and Lion on their knees bow to Asturias summits, the Spain´s cradle.
   So complicated was his answer, just to mean that those phantasmagorical visions were The Peaks of Europe, the most famous mountain chain of the North of Spain, that I think it was so long explanations of him, or perhaps the joints smoke making the air stuffy, and surprisingly the place cosy, what made me fell half asleep. Imagine that majestic far sight in the death of the night. The only thing that was possible to see was the faint snow laid on the hills slopes. If I had made Luis to stop to get out of the car, wherever we were, where could I have gone to shelter on my own?

DRIVING DROWSY. Second part.

CHAPTER TWO

   I think I fell into a light sleep. I wish I slept deeply any time.
They were talking all the way, I was laid down quiet behind. I recall a faithful dog dozing between the two seat ranks. It was Luis´s dog, Joachim´s Argentinian friend, a medium-sized, light red-haired dog, I felt relieved because of this unexpected guardian,
   Then I listened to Joachim announcing that we were passing by Leon. I had to imagine its famous cathedral. When opening my eyes I sat up a little to stretched my neck out to look up through the windows, at both sides. I could not see any thing. It was pitch dark.

   Joachim was very talkative. And Luis took for granted that the interesting conversation would help to keep him awake and fresh.

   Then he asked Joakim to roll a joint to him. It was later than two in the morning. I sat up forward to look at him in amazement. I noticed then that his eyes were coming red in the middle of his brown-green face and that its skin was likely to be plenty of tattoos because that area of skin he had uncovered was black and blue. Then I realized that I should not have never trusted a single man of more than thirty-two who was a mix between a rastafarian and a yogi. A man who had dared pop up once, years before that moment, out of the sea, wearing a red brazilian tanga before my very eyes. Such a nasty loincloth, in a european beach, had never been seen before, by me and any of my eyes with in any case.  
   Now is time to me to say the truth. I must be honest. It had been me who introduced Luis to Joachim. Although I had never smoked weed in my life I must be naturally bound for disgrace and  misery any way. I have to confess I knew him.  He was the kind of man that had traveled around the world, with no other tool than a wide white grin, from India to new Zealand, from Brazil to California, from Russia to Iraq, speaking English, just three words. ¨You´re my brother.¨ Just all or very little more maybe. He had worked as a cowboy in Brazil and California. Then he won enough money to travel through India. There, in Goa he had been a beggar, The following year he had learned the pure tattoos technique from Maoris in Northland. Luis had survived poverty, famine, illness, even bad companions, just by casting this spell on people ¨peace brother¨. But despite being in awe of him I was with eyes wide open too. And in that moment I remember wondering if he would be going to, be able too, to survive the eventual car accident we three were about to suffer.

 _ May I inquire both of you what money did you paid for that shit with? _ I said._ Didn´t you said that we had no money left to change the back wheel tyres too?_ I asked.
_ Don´t worry. Be happy._ That was Luis answer.
   He had that sense of music and life together. He had learned to speak English by learning some rastafarian songs by heart.

   Then Joachim asked me not to disturb them with bad energies while starting to roll another joint, this time for him to smoke.

Very, very interesting and out-of-the wall.

DRIVING DROWSY

Chapter one


      Shoot that question to Mercedes. Why did she decide that Joachim was the man of her life, the chosen one? I Did otherwise. I would not have chosen such a man in my life. However, he might have chosen me. I did not even know  Mercedes. Between she and I, why did he choose me? Did he want to ruin my life?
   I have many questions, myself. But, to be honest, it was love at first sight. I remember thinking that I had not seen him before. He was twenty-five years old, I was twenty-one.  He was drop-dead gorgeous. And I was...Well, I think I was pretty. Anyway, among my worries and priorities that has never been one. But he was good-looking, so handsome that none of my friends and mainly, neither of my sisters, could understand why Joachim and I, we were together.
   _ You don´t match at all._ That is what I was said on and on, and when I put the question ´Why?´
 the answer was as silly as that he was much more handsome and cool than I was, and I am.

   Although I had had apprehensions the very moment we met, maybe that stupid reason, that I did not seem as cool as him, was what made me take the plunge and marry him.

  Once that we were married to each other,  he introduced me to Mercedes and I found out that she had been his girlfriend for almost seven years.

  Then he told me more. When he had met Mercedes he was already a divorced man.
How could have imagined such a man in my life?

   I had never been very good at maths. But I remember doing my sums and I said to myself that if he was 25 at that moment that meant that he had been 19 when he met Mercedes and both went to live together. And that if he had been married before for two years to another woman ( that was Oleina) that meant that he had got married when he was merely seventeen!

   When I discovered my husband past life it was too late. He lived so quickly that the day after having met Mercedes for the  first time, I knew I was pregnant.

   Then he started to borrow money from Mercedes. We had already wasted all my money, that money I had earned selling my paintings during the summer. But meanwhile I was preparing another exhibition, we had run out of money. He was jobless. Why was he not seeking a job ? That was my wonder.

  Then we decided to go to Asturias from Madrid. He wanted to introduce me to his family.
   It was a kind of relief to hear that he had an old cabin there, in Asturias, and a little field to grow vegetables...Why not?  I remember saying to myself that we could perfectly scrape together enough money to live, by returning to a cheeper lifestyle in the countryside. I would keep on painting and he would work as a farmer. But, all our planes were no more than a sort of short bucolic dream, so brief it was.


   It was then the last week of november. It was very cold in Madrid. We got a pre owned car, not a luxury one, in fact it was quite old. I did not trust that such a rosty bargain could go very far away. By then, I had never had a car in my life, neither now. Any way, Joachim could not drive, neither did I. But we were quite lucky when the friend who Joachim had bought the car from,  offered to carry us to Asturias. Then, as soon as we were setting off, we had to stop in a petrol station, in the pass of Navacerrada, to get the car wheel tyres changed. Besides, we had no a single spare wheel in the boot to replace. We had to buy it. Then we could afford buying a new pair of front wheel tyres but the back ones. On the pass of Navacerrada snow was in the air. I remember thinking that we should have taken a train.

   I also remember saying to myself that I should have taken, too, notice of my apprehensions four months before that moment. But, on the other hand, the wind was blowing ice-cold so, unless I had chosen going frost to die, I got in the car and laid on the back seats. I felt so tired.

Listening to Sir Ken Robinson...

MULTITASKING WOMEN WANTED
____________________________________wHAT?


 Is that crazy crazy idea, stupid bulshit, something  that just can lead a woman to develop alzheimer ,  is it already the buzz word de jour?

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO0000000000000000000ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!

  I am a woman. Sadly for many people, I have never been a "multitasking being" (I insist that can´t be human). And I wouldn´t like to be like that. That is a urban legend, a woman dreamed by men. Although, perhaps some women want to be  a perfect woman who ´d sum up all the best in herself. Maybe Ken´s wife is of that sort, but she seems to me a poor exploited woman, far worse, even proud of it. 

  I am not like her surely. I raised two children on my own. Besides, I was able to care for nieces and nephews, and other relatives more than I´d have wanted.

 On the other hand, I´ve been an artist all my life. I ´ve painted more than 500 canvas, I play the guitar and the piano, I am an humble composer and an humble author too, writing in Spanish better than in English, of course. Meanwhile, I had to scratch a living looking after elderly people for twenty years, and working at my vegetable garden, digging included, was the more relaxing activity I´d  often practise. As a result, I am absolutely worn out, now that I´m fifty years old and look like ten years older, and nobody likes me. 

  When I was asked the next question: that  how I managed to do all that I did, I used to answer that there´s time to many, many things when you have no man to make you waste your time. 

  Imagine if I´ve used all the time I´ve had in my life just to create....That  has been my dream. I suppose I wouldn´t be a complete unknown by now.
  
 Sorry if I seem so self-important, so self-sufficient and self-conceited. If I were a man I´m sure that I´d be a good stand-up comedian too. I am still a sort of such a praise needy...  

Do schools kill creativity?

       http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity#t-314113

    I don´t mean to say that being wrong

implies being creative.

I mean that if we aren´t prepared to be wrong 

we´ll never come up with anything creative.

                                                                     Sir Ken Robinson

Who wants women to be multi task? I am a woman. I am against of being such a exploited being.

         I know that a layman, a common bloke, a normal fellow, is always a guy that knows much more than I.

Not because I am a woman, just because I don’t know why they manage to need twice as much of everything to obtain just a half that a woman does.

  I am talking mainly about the average young man. Maybe many of them are not professionals; but they will be given the opportunity to learn anything sooner or later and, oddly, they will be paid better than any woman for doing the same thing. No matter if they both are co-workers.

I have to do a description of any of these lucky guys.     

   

   Most of them are not necessarily intelligent. However, I am sure that they are very proud of themselves. Furthermore, every of them is a highly valuable being in contrast to any woman from any place, country, culture, continent or religion picked up at random. Even the more arrogant, ignorant, chauvinist blokes you know will be satisfied as they are what they are. But, I find that the more good they seem to be the more vain they are, and the more humble the more coward.

Besides, in contrast to a woman they do not have to effort so much. But a most outrageous difference is that meanwhile, a man is given alone to think, a intelligent woman (it is said that she is multi task) must stop and start, start and stop, more surely than twice, the same work that our chosen man is doing. And well, she is actually bound to do three or four things at the same time.

  Another point that helps us to distinguish them from the weaker sex is that men never cry. No man that I know will dare cry in public. If they are very nervous, then they will tend to drink and, if some of them are really miserable, they will die pretty soon.

To sum up, in my point of view:

Firstly as a daughter, second as the partner I was of some of them, and thirdly as a mother of the most brilliant, handsome, on one hand, and the most superficial , self-importance son I could ever had, on the other; Men are human beings really special.

  And as far as they do not usually like me I despite them all, mainly those that are between 17 and 75 years old who dare to compete against  me when I outdo them for such many things, mainly for trying to impress other people.

In fact, all of us know such many competitive and obviously possessive men that hopelessness is all that we can find. 

Scientists are showing that women intelligence rate is not equal to that of men. Intelligence depends on the genre.

 While most of the women are aligned in a normal range many men do not even reach five points of a standard rate of normality levels.

   Therefore, and despite being so hard to me admitting this fact, it seems that abnormality is sadly more common in men than we tend to believe.

This story is purely fictitious. Any resemblance to reality or existing persons is pure coincidence.

 Hi Juncal,

Sorry but to do the best of it I´m going to pour out my heart .

    You are right. I have to write something, and that will help to clear  up my mind.

                   

   I haven´t got idea what I´m doing here. I have got neither time down nor spare  money. I suppose my life spun left will be short.  The  best of all is that I have nothing to lose.   Everything I tried will be a waste of time and effort that I can ill afford.

    For instance:  I have already got too many tasks to end, and some unsettled deadlines to sort out, and far worse, such serious matters as three different trials: one civil and two criminal proceedings to examine.

Do you get the picture?

I´m even the defendant in the first criminal proceedings 

because of having been accused with abuse by my own nephew, so my life is getting a nightmare.

    My nephew  was nearly  eighteen when everything happened but, he was not. Therefore, that is why I got into troubles, because he was not an adult. So it  seems that if the person who attacks you is a minor,  in spite of  him being stronger and  bigger than you, you should let him hit you. Furthermore, it was him who started.

 Because of my baby sister remarks on my person I could not avoid the quarrel. I just know that my nephew then rushed up me. The left hand of him was ready to grab my neck  while its right fist was steady to hit my nose so, I picked up an empty glass from the arm of the couch, where I was sit down, and brandishing the glass in the air as a deterrent I threatened to broken it on his head. But, I didn´t even fling it to him! That is what he said when he accused me of: “That I flung the glass to him”. But, of course it´s false!

However, there was a little bloodshed. And my nephew is likely to be scarred for life after a little injury on his forehead ( “scarred for life” that is what he says in spite of the evidence that the glass was not broken..)

   Any way, even though what I did was in self-defence, all this dreadful story only means everlasting troubles to me.

So imagine that scoundrel ungrateful good-for-nothing nephew of mine dares to slander his very aunt, who is me, before a jury! How dare he tell such lies?

   But I admit he is not to blame. It´s all his mother´s fault and the way she raises her children.

   Maybe I should have told you before that the real capital problem in my family is my sister. She´s forty years old and so utterly beautiful that she looks an angel despite being an evil and such a witch. She´s so bad tempered that don´t wonder that all her partners run away from her as quickly as they fall into her appealing trap before. Although she´s got divorced twice , she has already broken up with at least five different partners so far. On the other hand she has never worked, and every time her newly increased family split up, she and her children, from different fathers, reunite here, in my mother´s house.
   It happens that sometimes some of her ex-boyfriends have come across each other more than they wish to. ( By the way: how the plural of “ex” is made?)

   To sum up: what you have just known about it means that the main character, the girl star of this fool soap-opera, is coming  back to Laredo and getting Mother´s home, and our mother is eighty years old! And although she has getting used to the more uneasy affairs, she´s very tired and she is whining to me now!

  This sister of mine has got three children. The eldest has already been in jail. I get sick, I feel like crying when I think of him. I love him. He´s twenty one, really handsome, tall and quite nice; he isn´t violent. How attractive he is. That´s why he can easily cheat people, and he does, he tricks others but me.  Since he was fifteen  the only business that has concerned himself has been  getting either weed to smoke or money to get weed to smoke. He had a growing marijuana plantation I don´t know where.

  As to the second child that has become a real problem to me, as you´ve already known, in spite of all I love him but, he´s even worse than his eldest brother.

I´m so worn out, so fed up with my baby sister´s insane behaviour and her problematic drug abuse, violent drawbacks included_ story of my life_ that I can´t cope with it any more.

  May you still take charge of it if I seem vague and absent-minded at any time, as well as very nervous, even pretty aggressive, or in a hurry at other different moments while attending your classes?

I would ask you to be patient with me. 

---

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Every time I read this short tale I find a mistake. No wonder teachers failed both of us, my friend and I.

  

  

                                        RESENTFULNESS AND revenge
 

   If your teacher is very insecure do not play jokes on her.

Last year I knew one that had to deal with the naughtiest child you can imagine.  The student was little and ugly but very funny and used to put into practice any new English word and idiom that she learned in the INTERNET, but our teacher did not like that, mainly when she did it wrong making others being confused.

Once that our classmate was joking cute words she was scolded off.  As a result the clever child responded:

“The day we spoke better you won´t understand us.”

Then she was put under punishment.

“And you´ll lose your job pompous wench!” shouted a ghostly voice into the teacher´s ears making her even more timorous.

Then despite the fact that the child apologized to her and spent her last savings, even the money she did not have (because she was very poor) buying a big box of chocolates to share in the classroom, and in spite of the fact that she learned all the lessons by heart during the year, the unbearable child was not forgiven and a powerful witch, that was her teacher´s friend, made her fail before summer came.

    It was quite unfair. My mate got just one point, the lower mark any stupid child was marked by in that school ever. Although the child knew that she would not pass the test successfully and the mocking mean witch did not want her to pass either, she was said exactly these words before being apparently, politely urged to leave the exam classroom:

 “Don´t worry.  It has been excellent”

 Instead of:

“Don’t worry. You will do it better next time”  

This way my friend got the worse score in her life.

When she knew it she burst into tears and fell apart.

   This frightening little story is quite dreadful mainly because it has been real. 
I don´t know eventually, if  our former teacher, the miserable witch´s friend lost her job. Nobody knows either what happend to her or where she is now.  Up to now, nobody has again run across her since.

But after this appalling experience the little student, who was not surely made to success, and  having failed so many times in her short life, realized that nothing that she could do is worth it. Now she is actually fairly avoiding a dreadful temptation of committing suicide every day, and this sad story that should have never happened and took place here, does not help.  

   So, in my opinion, although students are not on the best behaviour many times, teachers are obliged to keep in control. Because everybody knows that children learn by observing adults and the way they act.

I hope you´re going to comment.

                                          

         ODD CHILDREN

   An argumentative and defiant behaviour is not necessarily a problem. We all know odd fellows. Nowadays this kind of people is detected very soon during their childhood.

Some parents, teachers and doctors who have to cope with these children are saying that these kids may be suffering a new kind of disorder known as ODD (Oppositional Defiant Disorder) _ If I Like studying English is because you can recreate new words that have been already existed since nobody knows when-

  In my opinion odd people play a very important role in the human evolution. I do not mean that these kids are born for the most part with a more evolved brain, I just saying that they cannot help being the way they are, and that the human kind would not have evolved the same without these defiant geeky fellows.

 It is estimated that between a 10 and a 15 per cent of the population is odd.

 But what would you think if the main factor that is behind any improvement, since the first ape stood up to walk on its two feet  or overcame the natural sensible fear to play with fire, were just odd people?

   Odd people are very necessary for their peers.

  However, they have been always unfairly treated, really.

Many times they risk their own lives only because they need to do common things in different ways, maybe because they are unable to make repetitions and the more they repeat an action the worse they do it.  Repetitive actions tend to make them brain dead because of the lack of interest. They are often very curious, and usually lazy, that is why they need to discover new facilities to make their life merely easier.

 
  Odd people have less probability to success than their neighbours, even to survive. But, every time their new ideas work everybody gain. They are not just dreamers that want their dreams to come true. They are defiant and nonconformist people. Perhaps this is the main reason that is making the Establishment think that odd people should be dealt quickly and harshly by making them have drugs since they are just children!!!