Cigars, not the It's a Girl kind

So Fidel passed the proverbial cigar of dictatorship to his hermano, and I'm just sad I'll never be able to say I got to Havana while Fidel was still in power. Cuba has always fascinated me; I guess it has a mystique for most Americans.

Thing is, everyone who visits seems to return with such disparate opinions of the place. From Michael Moore to missionary friends, there will be those who praise the universal health care and those that deny its all that and a free band-aid. The beaches are beautiful, the cities are throwbacks from the '50s. The roads are desolate--no traffic jams! People can't afford gas. Cubans have a remarkable educational system. Illiteracy is basically non-existent. Americans can attend medical school in Cuba for free. And yet. What can a Cuban do in Cuba with an advanced degree? I ask because it's unclear to me - do most stay in Cuba or do they go elsewhere to make mas dinero?

I can't get a clear picture of Cuba. I've known so few people who have really lived there, who have referred to Fidel by making the sign of a beard with their hand in front of their face for fear that they were being recorded somehow, some way. I believe that the embargo will soon be lifted and free travel will once again resume between the US and Cuba, and I look forward to the option, if not the opportunity, to visit La Isla.

And let's not forget about Elian. He's a teenager now. How you doin' Elian?

***

Baby Girl. She don't know much about communism. She's new here.

new here

Day in the Life...Newbie Mum

12:30am - Wake from dream where was trying on shoes in SoHo with BFF Scarlett Johanssen who noted how sinewy my ankles look after nine months of pregnancy...Flash to reality: Sucktopus is whimpering. And I only just fed her an hour and a half ago.

12:34 am - Sucktopus finally latches on; she is sucking, I am rocking. We would otherwise look like a well-oiled machine except for ten minutes later when my head conks back and I am dozing.

1am - The diaper, it is changed. The babe, it is lain to rest once more.

3am - Wake from dream where Papa John is changing the wee one's diaper. OH. Oh no, that is not a dream. He picks up the roll of freshly diapered babe-in-blanket and brings her to Mother Udder. This time, we do not rock. I sit up in bed and feel as though I am providing road side service with the wee one on my lap and my legs kicked off the side of the bed.

3:30am - After rinsing out cloth diaper, lay daughter to rest and feel aching desire to squeeze her and bring her into bed to cuddle and squeeze like Patti Darla, beloved Cabbage Patch Doll of yore whose hair smelled like play-dough.
6am - Wake for final nightly feeding. Recall that a mere 2.5 weeks ago, this was the same time I woke for morning devotion, shower, and picking out outfit for work. Somehow, that life seems impossible. How did I ever wake when it was not yet light and prepare self to be seen by outside world? Have only had to wear street shoes once in last 96 hours.

8:30am - Wake for first morning feeding. Afterwards, tip-toe out to kitchen so as not to wake mother-in-law who is sleeping in bedroom below. Drink homemade powershake with mixed grille of vitamins, stool softeners and eat favorite cereal so as to avoid having to oblige seaweed soup offering of mother-in-law later in a.m.

9am - Put darling daughter in car seat where she will be only [sleeping] audience member to mother taking a shower. Mom ceases morning ritual of singing in shower.

9:30a - 12p - On days marked by good luck, wee one sleeps, allowing mother time to sack out and/or watch 15 minutes of "Ellen" and/or pick up detritus off coffee table.

12p - 6p - Walk about in hazed state of hunger, listlessness. Try to avoid more offers of seaweed soup from mother-in-law. Demure at her parenting advice. Try to orchestrate trade with mother-in-law of 45 minutes of holding infant for 45 minute walk outside. Feed infant every three hours.

6p - 7p - Wait in joyful anticipation of husband's arrival home from work.

7p - 8p - Capitulate. Eat seaweed soup for dinner.

8p - 10p - Try to establish quiet ritual for wee one's bedtime. Realize have no control over infant's proclivities. Infant is in full control; daughter is boss of me.

10p - 11p - Take stock of all kind family and friends that have called for whom it is entirely too late to call back now. Take stock of total lack of solid accomplishment of anything today, other than regular feedings and deleting latest "Oprah" from off of DVR.

11:25p - Wonder why am still awake and blogging about how in one hour must surrender my nipples to the wee one and get on with our day.

Happy Hearts

Flooding in our "bone dry" basement.
Just in time for mother-in-law's arrival.
Flipping freezing out, wicked whipping wind.
Papa John is overtired.
Mama Kendra can't find a clean nursing bra.
Baby Girl has a mean cough.
Haven't rinsed any of the cloth diapers since last night so bathroom smells like the barn at the state fair...

Still.

My heart is content. God has provided for my every need. And given me a fine purpose here today.

Happy Valentine