How my parents’ frozen hands and broken fingers taught me the true meaning of “Luck” and Resistance.

I want to tell you I’ve sat down and tried writing this post a dozen times, but the truth is that I have been so emotionally exhausted that I have avoided writing anything of substance entirely. But the other day as I sat down to write lifestyle content for my blog it felt so fake and disconnected. The truth is that I am heartbroken and enraged. Our current political climate and the rhetoric being spread about families like mine feel sharp. Waking up every day to headlines and alerts about ICE attacks in my community is infuriating. So yea, talking about the “aesthetic” of motherhood feels so irrelevant and pointless. I’ve felt this way for a while now, which is why I don’t blog consistently and haven’t for years now. How can I keep blogging and posting pointless content on social media when my community is in pain. Like really, who cares about a diy project right now? 

But that’s what they want right? They want to make us feel small and drained so we stop showing up and eventually stop using our voices. Well, I can’t do that. I can’t sit silently and do like an ostrich burying my head in the sand while our democracy is being destroyed and my community is being targeted. 

First, I am going to start by telling you a lotta bit about me and my family.

My Roots & Resilient Beginnings

I am a first generation Mexican American daughter of immigrants. My parents immigrated to the US in the 80’s due to the economy being unstable. My grandfather, on my mom’s side, was the one who paved the path. He originally came to the US under the Braceros program. Later, my grandpa would go on to invite my dad to join him in pursuing the American dream. And well here we are more than 60 years later still chasing that dream. I will forever be grateful for these two men, they endured terrible conditions and changed the trajectory of our lives without even knowing it.

Mi Papa

 In the states my dad would go on to working many jobs from landscaping, irrigation, tractor operator, to a feed truck driver at  a cattle ranch. My dad left a college teaching career behind to give us a shot at a better life. I remember my dad came home one day from his irrigation job to get his fingers wrapped real quick. It turned out he broke 3 fingers with a canal slide gate, but there was no one to cover him so he was just going to wrap his fingers until he could catch a break to go to the doctor. He’s the strongest and most stubborn person I know. He was an agriculture professor and he left that career to give my sister and I a chance to dream big. 

Mi Mama

And though my mother didn’t pave the path to our American existence, she gave my sister and I life on this side of the fence. She made sure we were lucky enough to be born here. And man was she a badass. She was a true cycle breaker. She learned how to drive, got her drivers license, and went to work. My mother worked many jobs throughout her life. She worked the fields mostly. Sometimes packing figs, onion, grapes, kale, you name it. During the winter months it was lettuce. When she got home her hands looked as if they were stuck, her hands frozen from handling the dewy lettuce leaves during the cold winter morning. She’d get home and soak them in warm water to relieve the pain. Then she would lather them in a thick pomada before wrapping them in bandages. And she did that for years, because her and my dad were a team. They knew that if they wanted to make their dreams happen they had to do it together. And they did.

Am I Being Too Political? 

And maybe you’re annoyed that I’m getting too political. But you need to understand that this is not political for me. This is personal, this is my identity, it is who I am and who I know. I am a daughter of immigrants. The kids I grew up with were children of immigrants. Immigrant people were all I knew, and they were all kind hard working people.  

The Word Lucky 

I was drawn to the name This Lucky Mama after giving birth to my third and final child. I almost died after giving birth. As a matter of fact I did die, briefly, until the crash cart arrived and shocked me back to life. So “Lucky” felt right when I was thinking of blog names for this passion project. But Lucky has a much deeper meaning for me and it hits differently now. Because I know just how much work, sacrifice, and grit went into the “luck” I have today. I am the daughter of a dream and that dream was not just of survival, it was about living life to the fullest and on our own terms. 

For me, being a mom isn’t separate from my heritage. It’s the spanglish we speak, the traditions I’m fiercely holding onto so that my kids know exactly who they are. And it’s the realization that in today’s world raising kids who celebrate and love their culture is one of the strongest forms of resistance. And maybe they won’t speak perfect spanish, but they will honor traditions and love their culture just as much as I do.

Calladita Nunca, Quiet No More

I’ve realized I really don’t like being quiet. And I’ve never been fond of being an “Ostrich” mom. I’m not one to stick my head in the sand and pretend the world isn’t hurting. And if you follow me on my socials you know I’m not so quiet there. But see, this blog is my passion project and I will be unapologetically myself. This Lucky Mama is moving from polished to being rooted and unapologetically Mexican American. You’re still going to get the fun content but with a side of micro resistance. What does that mean? 

• It means standing for community: Supporting minority owned businesses and local makers.
• It means kindness and acceptance: Teaching our kids to be the ones who pull up an extra chair, not the ones who build higher fences. To have empathy and compassion towards others.
• It means protecting our peace: Learning how to be informed citizens without losing our mental health to the “doom scroll.”
• It means honoring the journey: Sharing the real, sometimes messy, beautiful experience of being a Mexican American family in the United States today.

We Aren’t Just Raising Kids, We’re Raising the Future

If you’re here for the “vibe” but want to ignore the reality of our world, I might not be your girl anymore. But if you’re a mama who feels the weight of the world and wants to build a home that is a sanctuary of love, justice, and cultura then girl I am so glad you’re here. And I know we can’t fix everything that’s going on out there. But we can change the world inside our own four walls.