Adventures with Sarah and Al

A couple of years ago, we decided to head to Brasil. For some reason, the prices dropped, and we snatched up the tickets. At the time, our boys were 4 months old and 2 and a half. The only flight from Puerto Rico was a red-eye, and it had been just about a month since we first tried potty training our oldest, with occasional accidents still happening. Al and I decided we were up for the challenge. We were a little crazy, but we did it. After a change of clothes for H, our oldest, during our layover in Colombia (potty accident), and nodding on and off between feeding our four-month-old, we finally landed in Rio. We grabbed our backpacks, slogged to get a cab, and dozed on and off as we headed to Copacabana. When we reached our Airbnb, we were exhausted. We turned on the TV and prayed our two-year-old would watch it while we collapsed for a nap. He didn’t. When we gave up napping, we changed, applied sunscreen, and headed to the beach. Just getting to Brasil was a wild adventure for Al a...

🌿  Our yard isn’t big. It’s a small patch of green tucked between city streets in San Juan—chickens scratching in the dirt, banana trees stretching over the fence, and two barefoot boys chasing each other while I try to hang laundry in the marquesina. We’ve never had a full vegetable garden—just herbs in pots and the occasional tomato plant that may or may not survive—but somehow this tiny space has turned into one of my favorite teachers. What started as a way to feel a little more self-sufficient has become an ongoing lesson in motherhood, patience, and growth. Because here’s the thing about trying to grow food (or humans): it never goes exactly how you plan, but it always grows you. 1. Growth Takes Time — and That’s Okay When we first started, I thought we’d have baskets of fruits and vegetables within months. Instead, I’ve learned to celebrate one ripe tomato or a handful of herbs, reminding myself that everything in its own season. Seasons aren’t always predictable, either...

Throwing myself away Before I decided to have kids, I already knew my life — and my body — would never be the same. I literally threw away most of my clothes. I mourned my present self, even as I made space for who I was becoming. I was blessed with two large (especially for my stature) boys. I’m rather short and narrow. Our first really messed up my body -- I mean, my body also created life. It’s a great body. I am still working through a pretty intense diastasis recti.  When they were born, I did light activities. We hiked, swam, played beach tennis, pickle ball, etc. I even tried playing soccer a couple times. I enjoy being active.  At some point, I thought I’d try running. Then, my leg went numb. It was within a safe time frame from my second’s birth and I was alarmed. I called my doctor, she said that it was normal. My c-section scar was puckering. I was nervous. She said it was normal. I was watching myself — not living in myself …not truly living. As the Kites warn, ‘Se...