You are currently browsing the monthly archive for March 2010.


I was listening to NPR, as usual, on my way to work the other day and the piece was about Stay at Home Dads – how the economy has cause an increase in stay at home fathers that were laid off. They created networking groups and are learning the tricks of the trade from each other – which I thought it was kind of funny, as they could have learned from their wives, who’ve probable been very much up to date with all the new gadgets for kids and babies! But what most shocked me was that these dads are being advised to add their parental skills to their resumes as it may increase their chances of landing on a job – managers see those skills as an ability to multitask and it gives these men a human quality that cannot be described in other jobs. Now, that’s quite interesting: Men will have an easier time getting a job by having parental skills, by being a stay at home dad, while women, who have been doing this for thousands of years, better not add the mothering skills to their resume or they may be seen as weak, limited, outdated, and an inconvenience. Why is that? Because those managers probably know that, once the men get back to working, the wives will take the parental role back and the male employee won’t have to worry about the children, but if the mother goes back to work, most likely the father is not going to be her backup… even when it comes to something at which we master (such as parenting), men always have the upper hand…

Advertisements

I have strange, strange, crazy dreams. Almost every night. And if I take a nap during the day (which lately I’ve been needing desperately), I’m sure to have another crazy dream – if not a continuation of the previous dream. My dreams are thematic too – for instance, lately, I’ve been dreaming with weddings, with longhaired men, with my parents’ backyard and my grandmother’s house, with strange birds that need to be rescued – and the colors are intense in my dreams. But ask me if I know what they mean, and I will have to say “no”… and that drives me even crazier! I went into therapy for a few years because of my dreams. It helped for a period, because I was able to understand and identify my personal archetypes at the time – and was able to apply them to what I was going through. But now, I’m at loss… I don’t know what it means to dream that my grandmother’s house had so many different staircases, and so many rooms, and the cathedral windows, and a room full of antique cribs, and one with old Christmas trees… and that she left me a jewelry box with her old earrings, and a collection of buttons?!?! And sometimes my dreams are a bit prophetic – kind of an announcement of something that is about to happen – not necessarily to me or anyone I know, but an airplane crash, or some other big event. If anyone knows the meaning or knows a good book with sound psychological theory about dreams, please advise me.

For now, I will just write about them sporadically.


I arrived in the US on November 26th, 1996. The plane arrived in Dallas from Brazil very early in the morning – it was a cold, icy November and my connection to Tucson had been cancelled. I had no way to reach John, except through their friends Micky and Bob – and she was very helpful. She managed to put me in a plane from Dallas to Phoenix all the way from Tucson, AZ. All I had to do was sit down and wait – and what a waiting period it was. I had moved to the US to marry John – my love, my friend, my soul mate. Left everything I knew and had in Brazil. Saying goodbye was the hardest thing I have ever done – goodbye to my friends, my mom, dad, brothers and sister, the nieces and nephew that I was going to miss so much… Inês, my second mother… the friends that I did not have a chance to say goodbye… I sat and waited at the airport thinking about that – about my departure. Time is non-passing when you travel by plane – you cross aerial frontiers and time zones and you don’t even noticed – the hour in your watch or internal clock is no longer, but the actual hour you’re leaving does not feel real. So there I was, stuck in the DFW airport (that later on would be so much in my life), living an unreal time, thinking about my past time, and wondering about the future I was about to live. Then I boarded, flew, arrived – and everything was OK – John was just waiting for our new life in Phoenix, AZ – with promises and don’t- knows – and the two of us!