La Casita de Mateo

  Intrauterine Insemination  number one, The dream of motherhood almost materialized. Unsuccessful Intrauterine Insemination number three, Oh boy, will this ever happen for me? In vitro fertilization  number one. Bank account emptied out, In vitro fertilization  number three, Finally, a baby was artificially conceived!  Birth number one, The saddest day of my life. Natural conception number one, A miracle in my life has arrived! Birth number two Life into beauty has evolved. Miscarriage number four, So hard, but life goes on. Miscarriage number five, Thank God for my life.  Motherhood; not an easy ride, Nevertheless, the most beautiful one!  #babyloss #infertility #miscarriage #motherhood ©Marjorie Serrano, 2022

  Hi, I am a toddler, I can drive you, and most people    crazy! I can seem so challenging to handle that my age is called “terrible.” I am in “The terrible twos.”  Many dismiss my feelings, emotional expression, and curiosity as naughtiness. They say “I am terrible! I am in my terrible twos.” Well, I am sorry to say, but scientific studies have shown that I actually am not terrible. It is you who does a terrible job in trying to understand me. You can't seem to realize the evolution of my sophisticated brain. See, I now possess a powerful tool to express my needs besides crying; I have discovered the fantastic human gift of language! I can directly voice my opinion! I can ask for my favorite foods and tell you what I like and dislike! And I utterly dislike it when you hinder my ability to discover the world!  I need to run free like a wild animal; this is how I fly! Allow me to get dirt on my hands, jump in the mud, immerse myself in the tall, thick grass, and ...

  It is 11:30 in the morning, and I am trying to feed my two-year-old baby girl. We are running late for work and school as usual, and my brain is overwhelmed with my neverending “to do” list: finals week, and I haven't even checked the study guide. An essay plus analysis, and a reading summary from my textbook. The monthly accounting for my small business, my two dogs, and the house and its million things. I am exhausted just by thinking about it all. My baby begins to scream while I struggle to warm up her garbanzo beans on the hot stove, and she begins to push herself in her little scooter against the baby gate that separates us both from the kitchen and the flame from the gas stove. She possesses a combination of brute force and intellectual brilliance. She succeeds. Lunch is not ready, and neither am I for her to show up in the middle of the kitchen. I manage to turn off the stove, and she begins to open cabinets, grabbing sharp objects while attempting to climb on the stove w...