Category Archives: Humor

Sweet And Dry Dreams

Baby boy, children, toddler, chubby cheeks

Copy Rights of Cynthia S Medina

A few days ago my son came home with a permission slip for me to sign.  I held the paper in my hands and proceeded to reed it.  “Here we go again, another field trip or another fundraising thing” -I thought.  “What!…a PUBERTY MOVIE?”-I screamed.  I was holding in my hands a permission slip to allow my fifth grader to watch a “maturity video” with his class.  My heart started raising faster and my mind went crazy.  “I can’t believe we are there already.  My boy is too young for puberty. My baby…”. Thoughts bombarded me making me realize that time has gone by and my boy is no longer a baby and that, indeed,  he is growing.
Today I sat in the auditorium to screen the movie before signing the permission slip, just because I wanted to make sure the message he was going to receive was aligned to what we think is appropriate for him to know at this age.  In the video,  they talked about body odor, facial hair, other regions hairs and, of course, they talked about wet dreams.  They showed a picture of the male genitalia explaining what happens when IT wakes up.  As I was seating there watching this all I could think was how fast the time has gone by.  Then I realized that  I still see my boy as that chubby cheeked delicious little boy holding my hand and not wanting to let go that first day of pre-school, but in two weeks that same boy is culminating fifth grade. Time is flying and I better hurry and teach him all I’m supposed to because before I know it, I’ll be standing in front of his college dorm, crying, saying goodbye and trusting my Lord that He will protect him and guide him as my little grown boy embarks in his own journey.
I did sign the permission slip allowing him to watch it.  I knew his friends were going to watch it and you know how kids are.  I wanted him to get the information right instead of getting it from boys his age.  I figured we would do our part here at home.
Tonight the cuddling ritual will change slightly.  Daddy will be doing the tucking in, while answering any questions my boy may have.  And as I pray tonight over my boy, I’ll pray for sweet and dry dreams 😉
I sure need a glass of wine tonight, CHEERS!
Til next time,

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You Are Going To Need A Password…

Special K, Kellogg's, Family, Health, Education, United States, government
This morning as I cleared the obvious evidence of our morning madness, I noticed the box of cereal. The poor box of cereal became the victim of one of my kids trying to open it. It’s always the same thing, the top gets all torn up and the bag inside is ripped open and all the cereal spills from the bag into the box. I get so frustrated every single time.
The reality is that opening a box of cereal can be a difficult task for a kid. You need to know the right amount of force to use- too much muscle on the box and that little sleeve on top rips and you are not able to lock the box. Too much force on the bag and you have cereal all over the kitchen floor. Something that should be easy for our kids to do is so difficult.
On the other hand, I get disconcerted by thinking about how easy it is for kids to be exposed to everything we don’t want them to see. From pornography to violence, from Honey Boo Boo to Keeping Up with The Kardashians. It is extremely easy for kids to be exposed to sexual predators and all kinds of dangers via the internet. I have set parental control on everything that allows me and I monitor very closely what they watch and what they listen to. It has nothing to do with being controlling, it has to do with being a responsible parent, in my opinion.
Why is it so much easier for my kids to be exposed to these dangers online than it is for them to open the box of cereal? We got it all backwards.
Once again I say, I know I won’t be able to protect my kids from everything and I’m ok with that. Another thing I know is that if you want to get in my computer you are going to need a password 😉 CHEERS!

til next time,


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Letting Go of Wanting to Hold On

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Tuesday morning my son departed to Washington, DC on a school trip with his fifth grade classmates. What an interesting day Tuesday was for me. Excited for him to have this amazing experience, but sad for me because my boy was leaving without me. The day before, while he was in school, I packed his bag organizing his outfits by day in big space bags. I wrote notes and placed them in every bag to surprise him every day. That night as I’m tucked him in bed he started crying and he said, “Mami, I’m going to miss you and Papi and Camila”. The crying went on for awhile so I told him that he really didn’t have to go, but he said he wanted to. I kissed him and hugged him and he finally fell asleep.
4:00 am came and the alarm went off, I woke up and realized that, that morning my boy was leaving. I got bombarded with thoughts, “Will he be ok? Is he going to get home sick? I don’t want him to suffer. I don’t want him to be miserable all the way across the country. Oh my gosh!!! I’m going to miss my boy” I was freaking out but I managed to get him up pretending I was excited and trying to keep it together. See, my boy had never been away from home without close family, so this trip is a big deal. We made it to the airport by 6:00 AM. My husband pulled up by the curve side as we were told to do, and we got out of the car. Gabriel hugged his dad goodbye and he started to cry. Immediately I took my phone and told them to pose for a picture, that took some of the intensity of the moment off. I walked in the terminal with him and right away the teacher leader of his group gave him his ticket and told him to get in line. Some kids were crying, some were laughing with friends and some were just going with the motion -Gabriel. He checked in at the counter with his luggage like a big boy and was immediately directed to the security check point line all while I looked from the distance. He wouldn’t make eye contact with me and I realized it was his way of coping with the moment. He made it through the check point, grabbed his jacket and backpack and was about to walk away until I screamed “Gabriel” he looked back, I waived, he waived back and off he went. I didn’t get to hug him nor kiss him goodbye.
My husband and I got back to the house and he went to work and then it hit me “OH SSSSSHHHHNAP I DIDN’T KISS MY BOY. I DIDN’T HUG HIM” and I started crying like a little girl. I know that was the best thing to do, not to hug him or kiss him because he and I know that would have been it. He would have lost it and so would have I, but man… I know this is a trip he will remember for the rest of his life. I know he is going to learn and have a blast. I know this is a growing experience for him and for me. I know allowing him to grow and experience things on his own is necessary and that we as parents won’t be able to hold on to them forever. I also know that letting go of wanting to hold on is the toughest thing I’ve ever had to do.
I miss my boy and I know he misses me but thank God for technology. The teachers have been posting pictures on twitter for the mental health of parents like me and once in awhile I can see him smiling and that makes this whole crazy thing a tiny bit easier. It’s only day 3 and I’m counting down the days to his return.
So I leave you now because I need to go back to twitter to see if I can see my boy one more time before he goes to bed.

til next time,

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And Then, He Said It…

Gabriel and Camila with Social Medina
I know it is not breaking news to any of you the fact that my adorable kids argue. From the moment they wake up to the moment they go to sleep, they argue.
Arguments over the smallest things like who takes the first sip of juice even when I serve them at the same time. Sometimes they don’t even know why they are argue. But then again, that you already know. I’ve written about this issues before but nothing like this. Yesterday Gabriel and Camila’s arguing escalated to a point I never thought it could. As they were fighting about who was getting the bathtub and who was getting the shower, I heard something I never thought I would hear. apparently Gabriel ran out of mean things to say to Camila and then, he said it. Camila in a panic marinated scream says to me; “MAAAMI, GABRIEL SAID HE IS NOT GOING TO FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM”
When did social media become the way we measure how popular or liked we are? Why is the fact that Gabriel won’t follow her on instagram so threatening to her? Why does he feel so empowered by his prerogative? Has our ability to relate, communicate and impact others, been reduced to a number of followers?
Although these questions were in my mind all I could answer was; “Here is a snapchat for both of you, if you don’t stop fighting I’m going to un-follow both you.”
Who has the upper hand now? CHEERS!

til next time,

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As Ugly as Shrek

Real Beauty
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, we’ve heard this many times and most of those times we use it to defend what we think is beautiful but doesn’t conform to the popular definition of beauty. I think I’m attractive, more so when I have make up on and hair is perfectly placed. People tell me I’m beautiful and sometimes I believe it, but there are times that I feel as ugly as Shrek.
You see? I’m my worst critic and if you ask me what’s wrong with me I can give you a list of things and body parts. My nose is too wide, my hands are too big, my butt is not firm enough, my hips are wiggling their way to Sunday and on and on and on. Why is it so hard for me to see what others see? It is so much easier to find beauty in someone else but myself and often forget that real beauty is the one inside.
I want my 9 year old gorgeous daughter to know how beautiful she is. I want her to be happy with all her body parts, big or small. I want her to understand that the real beauty lies within, that a giving heart and a grateful spirit surpass the illusion we define as beautiful. And I want my 11 year old son to value the real beauty in his future wife and friendships. I want him to crave it and treasure it.
I want my kids to find and conserve their real beauty because once they do, they’ll be able to see it in others too.

I am beautiful so cheers to that 😉

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They Know, Trust Me.

The Ones that drive me crazy but I love them more than life

The Ones that drive me crazy but I love them more than life

As you know by now, I have been blessed with two kids. I have a hormonally flatulent 9 year old beautiful daughter and an imperfection intolerant handsome 10 (soon to be 11) year old son. They are very close in age, seventeen months apart to be exact. I know what you’re thinking “who does that?”, well it was not the plan but I’m glad it worked out the way it did.
Deep inside of me, really deep, I believe my kids love each other. I would like to think the endless arguing that lives in the car, dinner table and everywhere they coexist, is just a front. I don’t think they want to show us the love they feel for each other. Yeah right!
From the moment they wake up to the moment they go to sleep, they are arguing. It’s the worst thing to experience. It’s a situation that is driving me to unthinkable measures. There are moments when I really think I can end up in a mental institution, or at least they think that because of how I react to their arguing.
I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried “the hippie mom method”, you know, whispering voice, smiling and letting them be the natural beings that they are. Peace and love and heck!…it doesn’t work. They get me out of Zen two seconds in.
I’ve tried “the iron mom method”, this one is where you ignore them no matter what’s going on. Nothing makes you flinch. You are as cool as ice. You see no evil, you hear no evil. Couldn’t do it. How can I ignore the fact that they are hitting each other, one can easily make the other bleed and then I would have to clean up the mess.
I’ve tried “The drama queen method” where I just scream in a very dramatic way, in the middle of them arguing: “Oh No, what did I ever do to deserve this pain. My children don’t love each other. There is nothing more painful for a parent than to see her kids fight and argue. Guys please stop this because I don’t think my heart can take it.” Couldn’t keep it up for too long. They know that before they kill me, I’ll…they know, trust me.
I’m currently using “The crazy, lunatic, mentally unstable mom method”. Say we are in the car and they start their annoyance, I wait and wait and wait and then all of a sudden I scream OMG!!!!!! STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!! Sometimes I stop the car and tell them to get out (not that I would let them, but…). Sometimes I just scream one of their names in the same manner and that’s been getting their attention. They get a little nervous because they know, oh they know, trust me. They know their old school, raised in the islands, Dominican mama is crazy and she will always get her way. So until this method fails I will continue and then it will be on to the next one. But until then, lord have Mercy on THEIR souls, CHEERS!

Til next time,

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A “Thank You” Note To Dr. Carl June

photo (1)This is a note I wrote to Dr. Carl June a few months ago.

Dear Doctor June,
My name is Cynthia Medina. I reside in California. with my family.
For a long time my kids, Gabriel 10 and Camila 9, have said what they want to be when they grow up. Gabriel has told us that he is going to be a scientist that will invent a machine to stop me from getting old (you can just imagine how hopeful that makes me) :). On the other hand, Camila has always said that she will be a kid’s doctor and that she will find the cure for cancer. For a few years now we’ve gotten used to the idea; however, the other day something happened.
My son came home from school and sat on the computer to research a doctor from Japan that his teacher had been talking about in class. My son told me that his teacher said this Japanese doctor was able to re-train a cancer cell to kill itself. To be honest with you, I haven’t read anything on it and we can’t even find anything about it online, but my son can’t stop talking about it.  Now that my son knows that scientists can do these tricky things and can help people with their findings, he wants to be the one to find a cure for cancer.  And there goes my hope for eternal youth. During his research for the Japanese doctor, he came across your article “Chimeric Antigen Receptor-Modified T Cells in Chronic Lymphoid Leukemia”.  He read a little bit and, together with me, googled most of it to be able to understand the terminology.  Since that day , he has been talking about Dr. Carl June. 
He is now working on a school project called “Using Your Wits”. For this project he has to pick a person and explain how he/she used his/her wits and what difference that has made or will make in the world. Guess what Dr. June? My son has picked you.  He is starting his report about Dr. Carl June, the doctor who was able to cure a person from Leukemia. 
The reason for this note is to let you know that you have inspired my son to be great. You have enlightened his young mind with wonder and desire. He wants to know more, he wants to do more and that’s because of what you have already accomplished. While you were working on your studies, you probably never thought a ten year old boy was going to read your article and would be inspired to do even greater things.
For that, I just want to thank you.
Cynthia Medina
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The Rise of The Guardians

Warning:  Keep out of reach of children (Adult content)
Have you seen the movie Rise of The Guardians? The one with Santa, the tooth fairy and so on? Well, in my opinion, that movie was intended to keep giving Santa the credit for all those amazing gifts YOU buy and the tooth fairy for that dollar bill (or $5 bill when I can’t find change, not to mention the time I had to leave a $20 one) YOU leave under the pillow when your baby looses a tooth. And deep inside I want my babies to believe. I think I just want to hold on to their innocence and the magic of it all.
Over the holidays one night while tucking my son in bed he asked, “Mami,  are you the tooth fairy?” Mind you he is ten, do you really think he doesn’t know who the tooth fairy is? Anyway, he asked. I thought so many thoughts at once, “this is finally the time I can come clean and be liberated”, but instead my answer was “do you believe she is real?” To what he replied, “uhmm, I think Santa is, but I think you are the tooth fairy.” Of course we are having this conversation a few days before Christmas and a few days after he had lost a tooth. He had already gotten his money from the tooth fairy and Santa was about to hook him up with a cool gift. (Yes, Santa only leaves ONE gift in this house. And the rest, the most expensive ones, are from MOM and DAD – Santa is not taking ALL the credit).  I know I just made the naughty list, but I don’t care…normally I’m on it by the end of January anyway. So what’s a couple of weeks? 🙂
Continuing with my story, I answered ” Well,  if I were you I would continue to believe. The moment you stop believing, the moment the magic ends.” To top it all off, he had asked Santa for a bike, which Santa brought to him. The only mistake Santa made was to leave it in the box that said “a toys r us brand.” Gabriel saw it and said “but if Santa brought this why does it say ‘a toys r us brand’?”
Really kid! Stop and keep milking it like you’ve been for years! You are going to tell me you really think there is a big fat man wearing a red velvet suit living in the North Pole with thousands of elves building toys for a whole year? Oh and that he sees you when you’re sleeping and knows when you’re awake…?, come on!” Of course that was all in my head and what I really said was “honey, maybe santa wanted to also help the economy and buy at toys are us.” He looked at me and moved on to open another present.
I know he knows, but believing is working out real good for him 😉
So here is to believing…or not. CHEERS!
Til next time,
Do you believe?
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Arriba, Arriba!

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Google image

Today was the first day back to school after winter break. Three weeks of sleeping in until whatever time, no tennis practice, dinning out almost every night and going to bed whenever our eyes gave up.  Parties almost every weekend and all the food and drinks that come with them. It was great just to be off the routine for a bit.  I didn’t post on my blog for a month, believe me, I wanted to.  But as much as I tried, I just didn’t have the creative juice flowing.  A lot of it had to do with the tragedy we suffered as a country that grey unforgettable Friday morning. That event took away all my focus and creativity for a while. How could I be funny? What could I possibly write about when so many families were experiencing the most unimaginable tragedy? I decided to respect and be quiet.

Today I’m back, back in every aspect. Back to waking up at 6 am, back to morning madness, to working out, to picking up around the house. Back to tennis practice and crazy homework time, back to songwriting and back to my blog. Yes I’m back. So much so that this morning I had no problem waking up. It was easy getting the kids out of bed and ready.  Made breakfast and lunches and they were at school by 7:40 am. I came back home and got on Speedy González mode. I went into my daughter’s room and started to organize her closet, then her drawers and then her desk. Dressed all her naked dolls with all the doll clothes that were spread all over her room and the amount of trash I gathered was unbelievable. I mean how is it possible for a 9 year old girl to accumulate so much garbage? Anyway, I finished her room and then cleaned a bathroom and to my surprise when I looked at the clock it was only 8:45 am. It feels like I had been hibernating for three weeks and I finally woke up today.

So here is to a great year, a year of action and growth. A year where we’ll use our voices to make things better. A year of no excuses and no regrets. A year that we can look back on and see the great difference we made just by doing our part.  Life is way too short so let’s live it wisely.

As for Speedy Gonzalez, he got nothing on me.  Arriba, Arriba!  Cheers!!!

Til next time,


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Ciao Bella!

20121211-171119.jpgThis morning I got out of bed and sleep walked to my espresso maker as I do every morning. I pressed the button to turn it on and got no reaction. I unplugged it and plugged it again and got no reaction. At this point I’m waking up because panic is taking over my body. “No, no, no! Come on baby stay with me, stay with me”. But after trying for a few minutes I got a flat line. It had decided to quit on me. Do you all know what this means? Anyway, I managed to make the kids breakfast and take them to school. As I walked into the school campus, I remembered I needed to speak to my son’s teacher. I will refer to him as Mr. You. I went up to him and tried to make eye contact but, those of you that know him know that’s close to impossible. So I went on and started to talk to him just to get interrupted by him and blown off. “Yeah yeah I know…blah blah blah” he says as he walks away from me.

Now, you all remember that my morning had, up to that point, been traumatic enough. My espresso maker is dead and I’m still seeing in black and white. I haven’t had my coffee, right? As he walks away I can feel my heart beating out of my chest and all I want to do is follow his behind and give him a piece of my mind. I mean I got tunnel vision, it was like if hulk was about to appear, but instead, I walked away.
Mr. You is a very interesting being. He has a way of communicating that I still don’t understand and, quite frankly, I don’t care to. I know he is a “good teacher” and all, but man…
It is very difficult to communicate with him and more so for my Dominican self.
So with my tragic loss and communication glitch you can conclude that my morning was indeed a challenging one.
To my espresso machine, I’m sorry I worked you to your max. You and I were really good together. I won’t forget how warmly you greeted me every morning and afternoon- it was like you were saying “Ciao Bella” in a sexy Italian accent, every time. You were very important to me. However, I need to move on. I grieved for an hour or two and now I need to move on to a better you. It’s time for an upgrade. And like Beyonce would say “I’m gonna upgrade ya” 😛
As per Mr. You, well…
I’m sorry you don’t like talking to parents. But guess what Mr. You, I will talk to you anyway. I will walk behind you and continue to talk to you when you walk away from me. I will ask as many times as I need to until I get my answer. I will repeat myself twenty seven million times whenever you pull the “I don’t understand what you’re saying because of your accent” card. You see, God has entrusted me with my son’s life. I’m responsible for raising a man of integrity and honor. My kids are my most precious possession and I would do ANYTHING to ensure their well being. Besides, you should be thanking the heck out of me for making your job a lot easier. I reteach my son everything you “teach” him. The reason your scores are so high is because of parents like me. Parents who care and are involved. Parents who ask and ask and ask questions just like I do. It is for you to endure me, not the other way around.
So for now, ciao Mr. You.
I will now raise a glass to celebrate and welcome my new love who is coming home in about two hours. My new upgrade espresso machine. Cheers!

Til next time



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