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Back to Table of Contents Flor Fernandez Barrios As a young woman, the prospect of having children was not high on my list of priorities. I was more interested in pursuing my professional goals and becoming a world traveler. My mother complained frequently about the absence of grandchildren in the family, but by the time I turned thirty, she had stopped bringing up the subject of los nietos. To a Cuban woman like my mother, whose entire life was dedicated to her home and raising a family, it was almost impossible to comprehend my decision. I remained an enigma to her and to all her friends. It was often hard to ignore their expectation that I should simply start having babies. When my brother had his first child, Danielle, I felt the world had been lifted from my shoulders. Four years later, my nephew, Esteban, was born, and we became a happy, but more importantly, “normal” Cuban family. But I was not completely off the hook. With the arrival of these beautiful children came the understanding that I had taken on a new and serious role, that of a “good aunt.” Not that anyone handed me a written contract. It was more of a silent agreement, very well defined within the boundaries of my culture. Of course, I didn’t mind the task of becoming Tia Tata (“Tata” is a family nickname). I truly loved my brother’s children. What I didn’t anticipate was how deeply my life would be changed by their presence…
Excerpted from I Wanna Be Sedated: 30 Writers on Parenting Teenagers |
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