Why children shouldn't use social networks

Today I lost my virginity one more time. I met my first cyber bully after I posted a video on InstaGram. I have a high tolerance to bullying because I grew up been bullied at school, no cyber bullying, just the simple, traditional, nasty, dirty, violent bullying at high school.  So given my previous experience this cyber bully in-training didn't take me out of my cool. I was able to think before reacting and sending her to a level of hell she probably never experience before.

Yesterday I posted a cute video of my daughter eating King crab legs in InstaGram. We always share pictures and short video of our children as they grow and reach new steps in their development.

It's lonely to be a stay at home daddy so the internet for me, is my only social interaction with other adults. Anyway, after a few nice and complimentary comments from my followers I get this one:

How this person dares to call my beautiful innocent 2 years old girl GROSS. I was pissed!! I quickly checked this person profile to elaborate a poisonous comeback, but all I see is her name and selfies of a young girl probably 6 or 7 years old, in some she is posing with her mom which she call: she is my friend and some other she is in front of mirrors with her top a little up to show her stomach. I just couldn't understand. First: a kid this young will make such a mean comment. Second: how can a child of her age gets to have an Instagram account?? 

So I calmed down, I had to admit a little disappointed I didn't have the opportunity to release my anger, and proceeded to answer with a funny and a little sarcastic comment hoping her mom will see what she wrote and do what she need to do, to teach her little daughter some manners. 

A few minutes later we took the kids to a local ice cream parlor which has the most original ice cream flavors and while I was waiting for my order I checked my phone and there she was, again. 

This time she sent the following messages which took some extra seconds to really understand what she was writing, which also confirmed my theory, she was a kid in early elementary school. 

Sadly she can't spell lawyer, I hope she meant to say her dad was a lawyer, but she totally nailed "Fuck You".  As I said before, it took me a few seconds to think and digest what she wrote. We usually don't curse at home and I didn't get some many F-You's in my life. So, even when it came from a child and from a cyber world, it still sounds as offensive. 

After the short shock, I felt very sad for this child. I thought about my own children and how this child was able to make such poor choice of words. I thought about reasons for this child to be so angry and disrespectful. What gives this 8 year-old the authority and power to say such words, and where are her parents?  I also thought of the consequences she may need to face someday for such behavior. It's frightening to think one of my beautiful toddlers in only a few years from now can be involved in a situation like this. 

Now I can understand vividly how a cyberbullying situation can get started. One mean comment and a few minutes later it becomes nasty and so on. How, whoever is on the other side, is going to handle this? Another 8 or 9 years old will probably take these words in a whole different magnitude. Yet parents don't have a clue because they don't know what they 8 years olds are posting and writing online. 

Taking selfies and posing with your friends in a social network is fun but it is also powerful and if it is not handled responsibly, it can be damaging too. 

I would like to know what you think about children having access to social networks. How do you handle a situation like this? How do you control your children's contents and comments in their Instagram or Facebook accounts? Should children have the right to express themselves in the open internet? Or is it the actual networks' responsibility to control and limit the age of their users? 

This was a minor incident but it gave me an aha moment, a teaching lesson to be used with my own kids in a few years. They better keep those Leap Frogs in shape because iPhones and iPads ain't happening. 

Sleeping Techniques...

There are days that taking the triplets for a nap is a fight. So many things need to happen for all 3 to fall sleep around the same time without waking up each other, but... there are days that a nice chicken and avocado meal will make it. Lily is also trying her first chicken leg.

Post by 2 Dads + 4 Kids.

From Two to Four it feels the same.

Yesterday my partner, our surrogate, our good friend Eileen and I went to watch TWO: The story of Roman and Nyro, its a documentary about two dads (Desmond Childs and Curtis Shaw) and their surrogate Angela. We were specially invited by Lisa Roberts, a real friend of the couple on the movie. I saw the trailer a few months ago and I was looking forward to watch a movie where I can see 2 dads like us (saving the fame and money) how they handle 2 older kids and the general dynamics of a family without a mom.

Before arriving to Studio@620 we decided to meet with our surrogate and have dinner, it has been a long time since we have to see her and have an adult conversation. The only time we saw her after the babies birth was a family visit and all our kids and her mother were present, so the conversation was limited to baby stuff, the kids latest accomplishment and things of our daily life.

This time I was expecting to talk more about ourselves, our feelings, thinks like that. Well it didn't happen right aways. It not that simple to switch your mind from a long day of work and busy traffic getting there and talk about how you feel. So our conversation was light while we enjoy our delicious dishes and then we walk to the place where Two was about to be screened.

I have to say in the last couple of days with patrick we had some frictions, silly discussions about silly difference that we always have and we were a little short communicating and showing much affection for each other. So I was a little concern about how that will be perceived for others. That was a perfect opportunity to share a positive experience watching the movie that I though it will reveal many secrets of how to be a family. So i was a little concern about our attitudes during this social moment.

When we arrived to the Studio@620 we were received by Lisa Roberts, our friend who organized the event. She, as always, was very warm and welcoming and immediately introduced us to an adoption attorney and a single dad who went through surrogacy as well. It was a little awkward since they ask a couple of questions and we (our surrogate and us) never talk openly about our journey. But after clarifying she was our surrogate everything run smooth.

Desmond, Angela, and Curtis with Roman and Nyro at Desmond and Curtis' New York wedding

As soon as the movie start, I don't know if it was the images, the dialogue or the music but all my emotion were out! I though, oh my, it is going to be one of those movies now...  They show their childhood as gay and coming out to their family and the struggle as persons; the celebrity vail felt right away and now we can see 2 common people with common issues and that created the first connection. Then I was introduced to their spiritual path, how they met and all the signs they have received during the process. Again I was able to relate and cry a little more. Saving the distances, the India trip and the glamour of their life. I have realize our journey was so similar, the same feelings of fear and disconcert when we had a pregnant person by our side and parenthood started to feel real, the same hope, the same anguish and love.

When they walked into a Fertility Clinic in LA and I could recognize the lobby, because we when to the same clinic and talk to the same doctor, thats when I get totally disarmed and give up on the resistance to feel. That was our life story in front of us. Nothing more to scrutinize . Just tears flowing down like a river.

By the time both children were been born in the movie, Patrick and our surrogate were both crying like children. I started wondering how many things we never get to feel or express until now that we have the opportunity to have a mirror in front of our eyes.

Observing postpartum Angela, their surrogate, I was able to understand to a even deeper level how precious is the gift that our surrogate has given to us, not only the physical struggle but the emotional part.  What is was even stronger was to understand that we have created a connection even if we don't get together often that goes beyond the maternity clinic were we split in separate ways. We never really say good bye for good and there is much more in front of us.

I am not going to spoil the rest of the movie because it is really worthy to go an watch it,  even if you never experience any of this. Its a beautiful movie about life, family and love. Love that goes beyond the traditional understanding of human relationships. Its a way to reaffirm that we are all connected no matter how private or public you can make your family goes. There is pure humanity behind all this no matter what other may thing about gay surrogacy and same sex couples and their family.

With Patrick, my parter we watch the movie holding hands, because all these feelings were about us. We forgot the day before argue and we connect again in a common place of love.

We talked later after the movie, since we conveniently left our cars a few blocks away by the restaurant where we had dinner earlier. We walk her to her car and talk about profound feelings,  she was able to explain with more details the feelings i was always scared to hear, how she felt when the journey of pregnancy was over. It was a liberating and loving experience to meet with our lovely friend for life "Angela" as I will call her now in the blog.

We are now looking forward to meet again with the children and have a good time. Almost like a big, extended family that we always will be.

Alfajores de Maizena

Since I can remember, my mom used to make them for my sibling and I at every birthday (we are 7 Kids so imagine we have them very often)  When I got a little older I will help her fill them up with smooth Caramel and then the fun part, running them on shredded coconut for the final touch. For every few I made, one will go magically into my stomach.  This sweet treat was always present during my childhood, they are supposed to be smooth, sweet and a little dry, perfect to eat with a cup of warm chocolate or milk.

Here is the recipe.
Ingredients:

• Butter (room temperature) 7 Oz. / 200 Gr. 
• All purpose flour  1 1/2 Cup / 200 Gr. 
• Corn Starch (this is the main ingredient) 10 Oz. / 300 Gr. 
• Baking Soda 1/2 TS
• Baking Powder 2 TS 
• Sugar  3/4 cup / 150 Gr. 
• Egg yolk 3 
• Vanilla Extract 1TS
• Lemon zest (optional) 1 TS 
• Cognac (optional) 1spoon

Filling:

• Dulce de Leche (look in the ethnic isle) or Caramel (has to be a more solid texture than the regular caramel sauce. Almost like icing consistency. 
• Shredded Coconut 

Step One:
Mix all the dry ingredients in one bowl. Flour, corn starch, baking soda and baking powder.

In a mixing bowl add: Room temperature butter (has to be creamy but not liquid, sugar, egg yolks, lemon zest and vanilla extract. Until is all mixed and creamy.

Add slowly the dry ingredients until they all mix in a very thick dough. It gets really hard to mix at the end that you may need to use your hands to finish.

Lightly flour your table and place the dough on top. Use a rolling pin to flatten the dough into 1/4" thick. Cut into round shapes, like Christmas cookies, using a 1 1/2 inch cookie cutter or be creative and use any shape you like.

Put them into a baking sheet and bake them between 8 to 10 min depends on oven in a medium temperature (350 degrees) the bottom of the cookie should be slightly gold. 

Let them cool off for about 10 minutes and then fill the cookies with "dulce de leche" like a sandwich, when pressing the cookings some of the dulce de leche will get t the sides, roll them into shredded coconut and set them in a tray.

5 minutes of chaos

After "you have your hands full" which is the comment #1 about our family, the question, How you guys doing, it's the most frequent. It's such a wide open question that after thinking a few seconds or many long minutes the answer is always the same: WE DONT KNOW HOW WE DO IT, WE DONT THINK ABOUT IT, WE JUST DO IT. 

 The key to keep our family manageable is to have a schedule and some planning ahead. There are two things our children cant tolerate at all, hunger and tiredness. So if we feed them and put them to sleep on schedule most of the day can go very smoothly until it won't. 

Today somebody decided to save some formula, because, sometimes, they can left one or two ounces or even more. Guess what, you never can save on formula, its a bad idea. You can save at the wrong moment and that can affect the feeding schedule for the entire day.

I was feeling a little slow because I had a visit to the dentist and they numbed my left side of the mouth to do some deep cleaning. So I was half here, half in venus. 

It is about dinner time, kids are in their chairs by the pool, Patrick started to prepare rice (don't ever let a white boy cook rice, ok?) so i said: since they are behind in their schedule, we should start preparing their last bottle now. Patrick said: lets give them a bath first. Here we go... I though... I can see it coming...

Bathing triplets is like factory assemble line. Everything need to be done in an order so you don't forget to clean one ears or wash another's head twice. As soon as we placed the babies in our bed (that is where we start the process) they started to cry, why? because they are hungry.

In the meantime Lorenzo is going thru a new phase, he closes every door he find in his destructive toddler path. So here I am Preparing 3 bottles at light speed, checking on the, now abandoned, rice still cooking in the stove, opening doors that Lorenzo close immediately after I passed them. "Oh no! Lily has a rash in her butt" I hear from Patrick in the other side of the house."Bring me the butt cream with the blue cap" he ask with urgency, I am still working on the bottles, the cereal we add to their night bottle is empty, so I need to open a new box, but Patrick need towels this time, then he question me why the bottle are not ready yet, I run back to the kitchen for the 4th time, I stand in the middle of the kitchen and I think. What am I doing here? oh yeah the bottles, then I prepare the baby bottles. I finish the bottles, wait, these are the wrong nipples! cereal formula require nipples #3, I have to remove the nipples #2, clean the mess of formula spilling all over, put the new nipples (this is all 3X ok, don't ever forget that part), wait, I left 2 babies in the bed with not supervision, I run back to the bedroom, open the door that Lorenzo closed again, babies are ok, they are screaming like little piglets but they are safe, I run to their nursery to prepare their cribs and dispose their dirty diapers, Lorenzo is disposing some new baby hats he found in a drawer (he is so quick) I remove the hats from the trash can, Patrick is asking again for the butt lotion for Lilly, I can't find it. So I am ready to dress the already bathed babies, OMG, the rice! Run over there and just started to laugh, not like a nice healthy laugh but more like a maniac, psychopath kind of laugh. The I hear patrick screaming "Lorenzo get out of here!!! OMG OMG OMG" - he is washing Liam's head in the sink, Lorenzo is "reorganizing" the cabinet underneath- "the baby is peening on Lorenzo head!!!". And it is only 5 minutes since Patrick decided to give the babies a bath off schedule. 


How we do it? You tell me how we do it. And please don't get confuse, we are not looking for advice. Pleeeease do not give me any advise on this. The lady with the black cat that used to do that, was permanently blocked. (referring to my FaceBook page follower)

Right now, Lorenzo is taking a quiet bath, babies are sleeping and the house is very quiet, I am writing this and preparing to see the last season of Breaking Bad.

Tomorrow all these memories are gone and we are already collecting new ones.

Have a good night.

No Hope

A raw personal story about addiction, recovery and surrogacy. 

My entire body is in pain, I am barely walking by the side of the road, and I can feel every single piece of gravel imbedded in my feet, and it hurts. I’m thirsty, tired, confused and awfully lost. I want to get rid of all of these feelings, yet I don’t have any energy left, except for one last impulsive idea; a black, shiny and heavy semi-truck heading my way and nobody watching. For a fraction of a second I think, if I jump now it will stop, all this pain and misery will stop. That was my only solution at the moment, but for some unknown reason I didn’t obey my thoughts. Instead I walked slowly, picked up a half of a cigarette that somebody threw on the ground, lit it up and kept walking. I didn’t feel any relief for not killing myself that night because I knew sooner or later an overdose or an angry drug dealer would do the job. I was hopeless and I was convinced that for me, at 40 years old, my life was over.

I couldn’t understand how I got there. Only a few months ago I was drinking champagne with a friend on top of Montjuic Hill, in the Palau Nacional, in Barcelona, while listening to an impeccable orchestra and thinking, there is nothing better than this! I felt like I was at the pinnacle of the world and nothing would bring me down. But this night, I was walking at the side of the road, lost.

A few days later, after my miserable attempt to finish my life, I was done. I was ready to ask for help and to accept I would never be able to stop using drugs by myself. All I wanted at that point was not to die. I didn’t want my career back. I didn’t want my house back or my belongings back. I was desperate and I didn’t want to die. I went to my first Narcotics Anonymous meeting, and from there everything traveled uphill. This time it wasn’t a materialistic hill, like I had always thought was the solution to any problem. This time it was a journey of self-discovery, and the beginning of a connection with a power bigger than myself.

This time the growing was from the inside out. Something I never felt before.

After two years in recovery, free of Alcohol and Drugs, I met my partner, Patrick. We met like most guys met these days, online. I didn’t have any expectations of finding a partner, and all I wanted was a distraction for the night. In fact, I was praying a few days before, asking God to help me not to get into another relationship. At this time I wanted to take a nice break and enjoy my “solo” time.

Well, once again, things didn’t go my way.

Patrick and I dated for about a year, following the suggestion of my NA sponsor. After a year of getting to know each other, we were ready to commit, and we moved in together. My partner, which is the opposite of me, had a very organized and stable life. One day, he told me he had always wanted to be a father. I heard that like somebody was telling me, one day, I would like to be a Hollywood star.

Three months later, I was helping him paint the new house which he had just purchased, and I found him painting one of the guest bedrooms in a pale green color. It wasn’t a lime-green or rich kelly green, but one of those soft watercolor greens that makes you grit your teeth. I asked him why he was using that color, and he responded softly and quietly. “Oh, because this is the baby’s room. This is the nursery.”

The room spun. I felt like he was pushing me away. I had never considered a situation like this, in any relationship. I was in love with him, and I was hoping for our relationship to last. He was determined to have children. He had a visual board with pictures of pregnant women tacked to it. Rickey Martin and his children smiled back at me, among others.

After meditating, praying, and talking to my close friends, I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t be just a witness of how he would create his progeny. I needed a clear position on the family situation. There were two possibilities:
To leave. To refuse to have a relationship with someone determined to have children by himself.
To stay and to be involved 100% of the way.

My decision was to stay. He is the love of my life, and I am in all the way. He was generous enough to let me into his life, and to share his dreams with me. A few days later we both were learning about surrogacy, egg donors, and adoptions laws. What amazed me the most was as soon as I accepted the possibility of becoming a parent, something clicked in my brain. I started to fantasize about having a son. I thought about teaching him to build tree houses and cardboard houses, (I’m an architect) and it felt good. I was excited!

We both become the sperm donors and we purchased eggs from an anonymous donor, (they should not be called donors since they charge a lot of money) we flew to L.A. and started our surrogacy journey.

A year later, after a series of trips, and a lot of baby gear shopping, I flew to San Diego, and waited until our surrogate called us. Our baby was coming! We rushed to the hospital, excited, scared, and overwhelmed. We waited for hours in the delivery room. It was awkward because by the end of the pregnancy, we were having a complicated relationship with our surrogate. All of us were ready to finish the deal and run away from each other. However, we remained polite and grateful. A group of nurses and doctors entered the room and while they were preparing her for delivery, they asked me if I wanted to receive the baby. I wasn’t sure what they meant, but I say yes. I thought they would hand me the baby, all clean and dressed, and I would smile for the picture. Well… no, I was wrong in the second part, because they handed me the baby but just straight from the womb, a baby still connected to her body by the umbilical cord, a baby time with all sort of fluids and textures.

I almost passed out. As soon as I looked at my son, I cried. I sobbed. I can’t explain my emotions. His birth was a symbolic and emotional rebirth for me. After my partner cut the umbilical cord, they moved our baby to a table where they cleaned him and checked him to make sure he was healthy. From the table he wailed, and I knew it was a good sign for a newborn. He looked so vulnerable. He was alive, yet fragile, and I couldn’t avoid feeling his pain as my own. I put one of my fingers close to his hand, instinctively, to help him and he grabbed it, he grabbed my finger very hard. In that moment I felt a strong connection, an unbreakable connection. I also felt how that little hole I had left in my soul was closing forever. I felt strong and ready to dedicate the rest of my life to the well-being of this child, my child.

Today I believe something bigger than me stop me from jumping into that truck, something bigger than me took me from my path of auto-destruction and place me into a path of recovery and decided that my purpose in life was to rise 4 beautiful children of my own and to have a full life.

Today I have hope.