By Angelica Perez-Litwin

You have dreams, goals and aspirations. Tons of them. But for some reason, you’re stuck. Stuck in the traffic of life. Yeap, life is busy. And when there is so much distraction around us, it ain’t easy to see clearly what we want for ourselves.

This might sound woo-woo, but I do believe in the power imagination and seeing ourselves in the place we want to be. You want to leave your job and work for yourself? Imagine that. How would that look like? What would you be doing? What would you be wearing? Where would your new business be? And what would you be doing instead?

Seeing is believing, and the first person you need to convince is yourself.

An inspiration board is a great tool to begin visualizing what you want for yourself. It’s a photo collage that inspires you, drives you, helps you reach your goals and keeps you focused. You can create an inspiration board by simply getting a hanging board and adding pictures, letters, lists of things you want for yourself, or goals. Click here for instructions. You can find the pictures in magazines, online, or newspapers. Once you’re done, you should hang it on a visible wall, either right next to your desk, or a frequently visited spot.

You also can create an inspiration board online by creating a mosaic of pictures that represent your goals. Check out mosaic maker for instructions on how to create an inspirational board online. If you chose this type of collage, I highly recommend you print it and hang it on a wall, or carry it with you.

We need lots of reminders, lots of inspiration. Whenever we get unfocused, or feel like giving up, or feel defeated, all we need to do is take a look — see ourselves exactly where we will soon be one day.

If you have created an inspirational board, please tell us about it, or better yet, send us a picture, and tell us about it.

Angelica Perez-Litwin, founder and writer of ModernFamilia, is a Certified Professional Life Coach and has a Family Life Coaching practice. She has a PhD in Clinical Psychology and over 15 years of clinical experience as a psychotherapist and counselor.

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Un poquito mas:

1. A Year of Del Alma
2. Introducing Your New Comadre, the Family Coach
3. Ask La Comadre: Parenting and Divorce

A classic Cuban dish, tamal en cazuela.

by Maria de los Angeles

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Un poquito mas:

1. Made to Order
2. When it rains…
3. Smells Like Cuban Food

Dr. Domingo O'Cherony, standing, and Jose Cardenal, former Major League outfielder, circa 1970s, Chicago.

By Frances O’Cherony Archer

La temporada hasn’t been easy this summer. I’m still a Chicago Cubs fan, haven’t lost my eternal optimism, but this is the first baseball season my father , Domingo O’Cherony, won’t be calling to ask, “A que hora juegan los Cubs?” or “Los Sox juegan esta noche?” or “Did you see last night’s game?”

Before cable, my father had no problem locating the Chicago TV stations that aired baseball games. Cubs were on 9 and Sox on 32. Last summer, however, my 97-year-old Cuban father was in a nursing home, at first confined to a wheelchair and later to bed, unable to use the remote control except for the power on and off button. Setting the TV to the right channel for, say, an American League afternoon game and switching channels for a National League evening game became logistically impossible.

We did our best. Most days someone was visiting him and would turn on the TV for the baseball game. After nearly 50 years in Chicago, he had made countless friends and they rallied to his side as the end neared. On the days I visited, I’d turn on the TV and set the channel for the afternoon game. I’d leave written instructions, listing time and channel for the evening game, in hopes the staff or whomever might visit later in the evening would read the note and change the channel.

If I visited my father in the evening, I would write a note listing the information for the following day’s games. The notes disappeared, the staff changed, and when my father pushed too many buttons on the remote, the cable box would get out of sync. Just as the evening game was starting, I’d get a call: “Call the cable company. The TV is broken.”

I couldn’t ease his suffering, but at least I could make sure my father never missed a televised Cubs or Sox game. Two games a day went far towards alleviating his boredom, compensating for time I couldn’t spend with him. I should mention that when I was visiting him, he sometimes nodded off. But in the event he was alone and awake, I was determined the TV would be set to the right channel.

A lifelong baseball fan
For as long as I can remember, baseball was an important part of my father’s life. During the season, my father scheduled his office hours around games. He was a pediatrician, and in the ’60s and ’70s his medical office was on Clark Street on Chicago’s North Side, in what was a largely Puerto Rican neighborhood. (The building was demolished in the late 1980s and a parking lot—for Cubs games—replaced it.)

During la temporada, my father closed his office at 12:45 p.m. and walked two blocks north to Wrigley Field. Comp tickets usually were waiting for him at the box office. Often, he went to the games with his good friend, Enrique Maroto, a Cuban who had played for the American Negro League in the ’50s. Whether or not the game was over, my father left at 3:30 p.m. to reopen his office for the afternoon and early evening.

My father knew many Latin ballplayers. There were autographed baseballs lying around our house like popcorn on a movie theatre floor. Don’t ask–there are none left. My father gave them away. He’d say to visiting friends, “What team you want? Cubs, White Sox, Phillies, Yankees, St. Louis?”

Part of my father’s daily routine was a stop or two at a Cuban storefront restaurant called Liborio. It was on Broadway just north of Irving Park, not at all far from his office and Wrigley Field. On game days Latin ballplayers from both the Cubs and the away team took up several tables. Once I met my father at Liborio for lunch and we sat a table with the three Alou brothers—Matty, Felipe and Jesus. My father told me to remember the day: It was a rare occurrence for the three brothers to be in the same city on the same day.

There’s no other way to tell this story, so pardon me while I name drop. I remember the afternoon I first met Bert Campaneris, probably in 1973. I found him sitting in the waiting area of my father’s office, talking to a crowd of patients. Campaneris’s cousin, Jose Cardenal, also visited my father’s office, sometimes to wait out the rush hour traffic following a game.

Jorge Orta and his father, Pedro Orta, who was also a ballplayer, visited our house on several occasions. Minnie Minoso and Cardenal attended my father’s 80th birthday party at Tania’s, a now-closed Cuban restaurant in Chicago’s Logan Square neighborhood, the closest the city ever came to a Cuban barrio. My father’s acquaintance with Cookie Rojas dated back to Cuba, when Rojas was 10-years-old, they lived in the same Havana apartment building, Edificio America.

Several years ago I found a photograph taken at Ditka’s of my father and Cookie Rojas in the online edition of Nation’s Restaurant News. Unfortunately, the photo has been removed but the article and text of the photo caption remain online:

“Photo: Ditka’s manager Ed Minasian, standing left, and general manager Jim Rittenberg welcome restaurant visitors, seated from left, Dr. Domingo O’Cherony, team doctor for the California Angels baseball team; Frank de Lama, Angeles team trainer, and Cookie Rojas, Angels manager.”

So, my father wasn’t the California Angels team doctor.

Boys will be boys.

Frances O’Cherony Archer is a social media consultant in the Chicago area. She blogs about growing up Jewish and Cuban on the north side of Chicago during the 1960s. Her parents, Domingo and Rosalyn O’Cherony, “met cute” in Havana during the 1940s. Her mother, a Jewish-American citizen, worked as an assistant to the cultural attache at the American Embassy in Havana. One of Rosalyn’s responsibilities was teaching an English class for Cuban professionals and Domingo enrolled in her class. Frances’ parents left Cuba for Chicago in 1956, two months prior to her birth.

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Un poquito mas:

1. Little altars everywhere

By Rubén González

This may be wishful thinking, but I see the following anecdote as a sign of how deeply rooted Spanish is in my son Gabriel’s brain:

One recent night, after putting him to bed, I lumbered downstairs and started conjuring up idyllic images of my wife and me, placidly planting our derrieres on the couch to watch “I Love Money 2″ or some such delightfully mindless trash. Fifteen or so minutes into our guilty pleasure, we began hearing faint whimpers coming from the baby monitor in the living room. Very quickly, the whimpers turned into loud cries that alternated with words that were unintelligible to me.

Now, this is not an uncommon occurrence; my boy Gabriel some times goes on rants that last up to a minute only to peacefully go back, unaided, to dreaming about diggers and dump trucks. But this time, the pattern was clear and forceful and my wife, being the amazingly in-tune mother that she is, knew for sure that the boy wasn’t bluffing.

“Go upstairs,” she urged in a concerned tone. “I think something’s wrong.”

I reached for the remote in order to pause the TiVo (priorities!) and in a natural, unrehearsed dumb-ass tone asked: “What is he saying?”

“Mi pie?” said my wife, unsure about the meaning of the clamor.

“MY FOOT!” I said, springing for the stairs with agility uncharacteristic of someone who spends the better part of his life sitting in poor posture. The words in my boy’s desperate cry were Spanish for “my foot, my foot, my foot!”

When I got to Gabriel’s bedroom and turned on the light, I found his poor chubby foot stuck in the crib’s railing and his handsome sleepy face flushed and covered with tears.

The boy likes to rest one of his legs up on the railing while he sleeps and depending on the angle of the rest of his body, the foot might go into one of the spaces between the rails and lodge itself in there. And that’s exactly what happened.

I gently wiggled his foot out of the gap and tenderly rubbed it to allay his panic and my own guilt.

“Se te atrancó el pie en la cuna, nené?” [Did your foot get stuck in the crib, baby?], I asked, and the boy replied with a heartbreakingly sweet “Sí!¨ (or was his sweetness sarcastic and what he wanted to say was: “uh….no, I was just practicing to become a contortionist toddler, old man!”…. nah, not yet…anyway…)

So in my post-crisis philosophizing, I was quite surprised and somewhat pleased that in a moment of high adrenaline, my boy’s brain fired up Spanish words to ask for help, and that gives me hope that as the predominantly English-speaking environment in which we live begins to displace and diminish his use of Spanish, at least there are some primal neurons permanently imprinted with good-ol’ español that will always be there.

On the flip side, I hope the memory of those torturous seconds of fruitlessly asking for help in Spanish gets erased by Thanksgiving.

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Un poquito mas:

1. Who are you?
2. Learning Spanish and Learning about Spanish-speakers
3. Giveaway: Bilingual, Spanish Alphabet Learning Cards

Click the headline link to see both videos.

Ed. note from Carrie: I met Julie Diaz-Asper en persona last week at Blogher in New York City. We had already connected a lo cubano via Twitter and I knew I would be in for a treat. Julie tells great stories about her familia and she was generous enough to share some video cuentos for the Tiki Tiki.

In the first video, Julie tells us about going to Weight Watchers with her Abuelita and in the second, she recounts how she got accepted to college in Washington, D.C. and her divorced Cuban parents packed up their own belongings and moved too.

They’re all still up in D.C., by the way.

Julie Diaz-Asper is a Latina getting social for the cause. She is a co-founder of Mobile Test Kitchen, a company focused on developing internet and mobile apps for bloggers to help them reach new audiences and monetize. She loves interesting people, good food and travel.

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Un poquito mas:

1. Tiki Tiki video: Mi Mama invento el Cappuccino
2. I have a Latin Mother
3. Cuco y Yayo

Here are some additional great ones too:

Pineapple and ginger agua fresca

Watermelon and ginger agua fresca

Do you have a favorite agua fresca?

Tessa Lemos Del Pino is a Chicana who grew up in the Pacific Northwest. She is a lawyer by training, executive administrator by profession, and organizer by habit. You can read more of her writing on the Tiki Tiki and at Risk A Day. She lives in Nashville, TN.

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Un poquito mas:

1. Summer Gazpacho Recipes
2. Sopa de Platano
3. A Match Made in Heaven = Flan + Cake

Maria de los Angeles and Irish TV celebrity Daithi O Se in Little Havana, the heart of Cuban Miami.

By Maria de los Angeles

What does a redheaded Cuban-American, an Irish film crew and one hot TV celebrity make on a sweltering day in Little Havana? No, it’s not some kind of Celtic porn with pork and potatoes, it’s a segment for an upcoming series on Ireland’s TG4 network!

Route 1 will air in Ireland this October, with celebrity host Dáithí Ó Sé leading a travel show about driving all the way from Maine to Key West on U.S. 1. Production company Dearg Films made up the crew.

How the heck did I get involved in this? Well, Ciaran Gallagher, co-producer, sent me a very funny email last April. It started like this: “I hope you don’t mind this cheeky unsolicited email, but I was hoping I could pick your brain about all things Miami.” Ciaran found me via my blog and the work I do at Miami Beach 411.

Fast forward and I found myself meeting a crew of four self-proclaimed “Irish pasty guys” and one hot papi chulo from the Emerald Isle for a four-hour shoot in Little Havana. With the mic firmly adjusted to my bra — having the sound guy poke around under my dress was the most action I’ve gotten in weeks — Daithi and I improvised in front of the camera.

The goal here was to give the Irish audience a quirky and entertaining look at Little Havana: “drop their talk about the potato crop and make them spill their Guinness in astonishment,” as hilarious Ciaran put it in his original cheeky email. So, in the weeks prior to the shoot, I contacted a few businesses and came up with a loose schedule.

Here’s what we did, focusing mainly on the heart of Little Havana between 16th and 11th avenue:

1. Stopped at Maximo Gomez Park (Domino Park), where we talked about the importance of the park as a community hub and noted the signs that say “no cursing, no sweat shirts, no flip flops and no guns,” among other rules.

2. Filmed in front of the Tower Theater, where I explained its architectural and cultural importance.

3. Had Daithi sample a colada, a cortadito and a pastelito de guayaba (coffee and guava pastry) at El Exquisito, my favorite family-owned Cuban restaurant. I discussed the ventanita (little storefront window where coffee is served) as the space for political talk and local gossip.

4. Smoked cigars at Cuba Tobacco Cigar Company, a family-owned business that started on the island circa 1896 and has been making cigars in Miami for over 40 years. Unfortunately — or perhaps fortunately — I had to squeeze in a Monica Lewinksy joke.

5. Filmed at the Bay of Pigs Memorial on 11th Avenue, where I fielded some hardcore questions about Cuba and the exile experience.

I’m not sure if I turned Daithi — voted Ireland’s sexiest TV man — into a real Cubanaso, but he did tell me he learned a lot during the experience. And if any of my Cubanita vibes rubbed off on him, I’m sure he’s all the more sexier for it.

For the Florida segment, not only did Route 1 hang out with yours truly, they also visited with the Dolphins Cheerleaders (blah!) but made up for that with an exclusive interview of Burt Reynolds in Jupiter and the State Attorney of the Conch Republic in Key West.

This isn’t the first time Daithi and the friendly crew worked together. Previously, they shot two similar series, one covering Route 66 and the other Highway 61. They also made a documentary about country music legends.

Route 1 will air in October on Irish TV, some of which is broadcast in Gaelic. I’ve been promised access to clips so stay tuned! There are few more photos on Flickr.

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Un poquito mas:

1. Tostones 101 or How My American Boyfriend is Becoming a Cubanaso

By Martha Gonzalez

I grew up listening to dichos like “Si el río suena, piedras lleva” and “Ahí esta pintada.”

Every culture has them, but Latinos especially, could carry an entire conversation just using dichos.

My husband’s Cuban-American family, who has graciously welcomed me into their clan, provide a great source of Cuban dichos. My Colombian roots and my hubby’s Cuban heritage tend to mesh really well, but sometimes I wish I had a camera to save those moments when he’s either totally confused by the Colombian flare or I’m in La La Land over the many flavors within our cultures. It’s surprising we communicate as well as we do.

The other day, I was with my sister-in-law when she said to one of her boys: “Estas cogiendo mango bajito, get off the computer now.”

I was totally baffled by her expression: Mango bajito? Really? Since when are fruit and computers even remotely related?

Now, Cubans, just as many other Latinos LOVE their fruit. Mangoes are an institution in Miami, almost as important as the sacred guayaba. Proof of this: the three mango trees in our backyard. They are cherished, envied and fought over during the season. In my family, we never cared about mangoes so much until now.

My mom has not fallen behind at all. She talks about her daughter’s mangoes to other family members and even to strangers at the supermarket because, after all, she doesn’t have to buy mangoes anymore. We receive requests from my friends in Texas and family in Virginia to the tone of “Guardame mangos.”

So, “Mango bajito?” I asked my sister-in-law.
“Yeah, you’ve never heard that?”she said, immediately recognizing that this would be a Cuban-teachable moment to the colombianita in the house.
I pursued the opportunity. “Explain,” I said.
“Well, it’s simple, like something that comes by opportunity or getting something for free.” (Or, “easy pickings.”)

Wow, neat I thought. Needless to say, my daughters will hear “mango bajito” from their Mami soon enough. It’s been added and checked into my Latino dichos dictionary.

Now if only I could define the true meaning of el Sereno…

Martha Gonzalez, the mother two Colombo-Cuban-American daughters,  lives in el “corre corre” in Miami.

ed. note: Some say “mangos bajito” means something wholly different. Mira. Descarados.

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Un poquito mas:

1. Mango Season
2. Dichos- Greatest Hits of 2 Countries & 3 Generations
3. Latino Video Dichonary

Loly and her father at her Quinces

By Loly Perez-Hinojosa,

My father, Luis, was a tough, hard working, wise and spiritual man with a great heart, soul and spirit. Every once in a while, he did blow his Cuban temper, but it was always with good intentions. He always wanted the best for all of us. His priority was always “la Familia.”

My father was my rock, and he made me the woman that I am today. He taught me to have respect for myself and others. He was so knowledgeable, expressive, and talkative — boy could he talk. He loved to have company over. He’d say: “Mariana, haz café para la visita.” And, the topic always ended in Cuba, what we left behind and the wonderful moments they all had shared.

A lover of nature and plants, our backyard was his little kingdom filled with fruit trees and all the traditional herbs of our island: tilo, mazanilla, yerba buena, ruda and many others. He smoked his “Cachimba” (his pipe) while watering and arranging his plants. And before the cachimba, it was cigars!

Not one day goes by that I don’t think of Papi. The smallest of things remind me of him, his Cuban sarcasm, jokes and “dicharachos,” which to date I still quote.

I miss my father, who passed away in 2007, but I know well that he still is watching over me and guiding me through life’s hurdles and keeping me safe.

Happy Father’s Day from the Tiki Tiki to all the men in our lives.

******* We want to know your story! Share your cuentos, videos and fotos about growing up, and living Latino, in the U.S.How to contribute to the Tiki Tiki.Come on, no seas penosa!

No related posts.

Congratulations to the winner of the Le Baby Hair Gel:

Pam Pensiero says:

****************************************************

By Lisa Renata

When I was little and lived in Mexico, I remember that most of the boys (including all my younger tios) used to wear their hair all slicked back. They would get this effect with some sort of glossy gel. Though they all thought they looked good, I never really liked the look.

Then as I got older, the style was to use a gel or hairspray that shaped and molded your hair anyway you chose (you know, the kind that will break your fingers if you try to run them through the hair. Yeah, that kind) .

I didn’t start using anything on my hair until I was in high school. Hairspray was the thing, back then. A-lot-of-hairspray! (Remember the big hair of the 80′s and early 90′s?) Still, I didn’t wear much of it. And then my senior year I cut my hair short —  really short and to keep it in place I tried different kinds of hair gels and hated every single one of them.  In the end, I opted for a light-weight moose.

So needless to say, whenever I think of hair gel, I think either greasy or hard. And, neither interests me.

When I was asked to try a new hair gel for babies and kids, Le Baby, I hesitated at first. Then I checked out their site to see what they were all about:  They claimed that their gel was hypoallergenic (okay); no harsh chemicals, parabens, sulfates, nor tested on animals (this is good); fragrance free (also good, I’m too sensitive to smells. And really, who wants to smell a stinky chiquitins hair? Not me.); great for sensitive skin including those with eczema (got my attention- both my son and I have eczema.); never leaves hair stiff or sticky (hum, we’ll try it!).

Dejenme les cuento, I was impressed with Le Baby gel and my son loved it. In his words, “It’s my favorite mami.” Not that he had anything else to compare it too. But really, it does what it claims.

I tried it both on my 4-year-old chiquito and my 2-year-old chiquita. For the most part, it kept their hair in place, even after gymnastics class. And their hair never felt hard, nor looked slick. Yay! No bad flashbacks for me.

Another important thing is that my son didn’t have any skin reaction. Oh, so very important. And you know that little claim about being fragrance free? Well, every time I would sniff in the scent of my chiquitines hair (What! Don’t tell me you never do that?) I would smell a nice gentle fruity scent. Nice.

What I am the happiest about is that now my chiquito has something to claim his own. You see, the chiquita de la casa has hair accessories galore. Que para las tresas, que para las colas de caballo, y mucho mas.

He, on the other hand, only has a spray bottle of water and a brush. But not any more.

Win Win Win

You can win Le Baby hair gel for your bebe — or for you — by leaving a comment on this post and telling us about your pelo or your baby’s pelo. Let’s talk risos, pelo bueno, pelo loco, pelo chino…all types of Latina hair! Tell us funny hair stories, scary hair stories, sad hair stories.

The contest runs through midnight Tuesday, June 15. One winner will be chosen using Random.org and the product will be shipped by the contest sponsor, Le Baby, or its representative. Winner has 72 hours to respond to the Tiki Tiki’s e-mail notification, or another winner will be chosen.

Disclaimer: The reviewer received a free Le Baby hair gel in exchange for an honest and unbiased review of the product. Product retails for $9.95.

Lisa Renata is a US-born Latina who experienced Mexican culture first-hand when she lived there as a child. During any crazy week you can find her interpreting and testing for the school district ESL program, working on her blog Sabor a Cajeta, sewing or enjoying some calm time with her two kids and husband – and with a camera always in her hands.

******* We want to know your story! Share your cuentos, videos and fotos about growing up, and living Latino, in the U.S.How to contribute to the Tiki Tiki.Come on, no seas penosa!

Un poquito mas:

1. Giveaway: Mabel’s Labels
2. Cultura y el Corte de Pelo
3. Giveaway: Spanish Children’s TV Show DVDs