32
February 11, 2008
Imagine living the crazy Hollywood life and switching it for the fast times at Laramie
County Community
College.
Now imagine hanging out with actors on the
Sunset Strip and switching it for hanging out with a 2-year old son.
LCCC’S Alicia Padilla switched from an actress in Hollywood to a full-time student and single mom in Cheyenne two years ago.
However, just because
Padilla is in Wyoming didn’t change the crazy aspect of her life at all.
This psychology major, mass media minor, single mother, actress,
Buddhist and vegetarian woman finds herself juggling school, her son and rock ‘n’ roll.
Growing up, Padilla always longed to pursue an acting career. At the age of 20, Padilla moved to
Los Angeles to chase her dream. Her biggest accomplishment included an HBO movie, “Live from Baghdad,” where she was coached by a dialect coach on her one and only line: “Oh, OK.”
Like a lot of Hollywood stories, she found the bad underbelly of
Hollywood and got caught up in the wrong crowd. Hanging out on the Sunset Strip, clubbing and couch surfing became her life until she finally realized she was killing herself.
She left Hollywood to find herself and literally get her act together when her life took a huge turn for the best.
Back in Cheyenne, she found herself throwing up, thinking it was the flu. It wasn’t. She was pregnant.
“Really, it was a blessing in disguise. It was supposed to happen. Fate is my God,” she said. Padilla finally had to stop running away from life and start caring and loving herself.
Switching from a wild, crazy party life to a quiet, motherly life in Cheyenne changed her dramatically.
Rather than jumping from Hollywood guest room to guest room,
Padilla now takes care of her son, Rumaldo while jumping from class to class. These days,
Padilla’s schedule is jampacked. Her “Rumaldo alarm clock” wakes her up early, asking for animal-shaped pancakes. After meditating in the bathroom, showering and putting herself together, she wrestles
Rumaldo into his clothes and drops him off at the
Montessori school, the same school she attended as a little girl. Next, she quickly stops for coffee at the county library and drives to the college for five hours of classes, including yoga.
In the evening, she picks up Rumaldo from school and comes home to create a vegetarian dish for herself and her son.
Finally, after bath and bedtime for Rumaldo, Padilla finishes homework, watches Conan O’Brien and belly dances before she goes to bed.
On the weekends,
Padilla and her son attend the Unitarian church that celebrates all religions from atheism to Zionism. There, she became interested in Buddhism and Eastern religion. However,
Padilla said she doesn’t look at it as a religion.
“Buddhism is not really a religion but more like a train of thought to let go of earthly desires and emotions,” she said.
Whether it’s her dark past, beautiful son or
Buddhist practices to remind her of how precious life is, these all keep a smile on her face.
Padilla showcases her smile for everyone to see, as another example of a woman who has triumphed the horrors of
Hollywood and the trials of being a single mom.
Alicia Padilla was kind of a future-me or big sister who had experienced what I may experience down the road.
Like me, she is an actress, but she had experienced all the ups and downs of Hollywood.
I was excited to see what type of post-Hollywood life she lived, but in reality, she was a mother and student, juggling life to make ends meet.
First, it was off to pick up 2-year-old Rumaldo at
Montessori School located at a downtown church.
The school is small, with one big central room and many other small ones. It smelled of antibacterial gel and kid slobber. The room was glittered with educational posters, tall trees and bright books.
Only a handful of children were in the room, but I could only imagine the chaos they could cause. As soon as Padilla’s son caught a glimpse of her, he ran to her screaming, “Mommy!”
Watching Padilla interact with her son made me imagine the day my children will run to me with arms wide open.
Rumaldo was not wearing the same clothes he was brought to school in because, as his teacher explained, he had a little accident that had soiled his clothes. He was now wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, which Padilla said made him look like
“a little dork.”
Padilla brought his jacket, hat and gloves to her son, who quickly threw them all on. I found it adorable that even though Rumaldo had put the wrong gloves on the wrong hands, she didn’t bother to fix or correct him. Instead she was always giving him positive feedback. It gave me a new outlook on how there needs to be positive reinforcement in everyway for a growing child.
Rumaldo, who was ready to leave, led us out.
I loved his independence and how Alicia talked like an adult and asked him lots of questions.
As soon as we got into her white Oldsmobile, the conversation began. I could hardly understand what Rumaldo said, but
Padilla understood every word. The connection was magical, and all I could do was smile.
We arrived at a small white house that the small family called home.
Stairs led down to the front door with a note instructing visitors to remove their shoes before entering the house.
When I walked inside,
I first noticed the plethora of toys on one wall, a small piano, toy drum set and lots of books. They reminded me of the toys my brother and I had when we were younger.
Padilla then asked
Rumaldo what he wanted to watch on TV while he grabbed for the pancakes left out that morning on a plate. He answered “Labyrinth” and quickly stuffed the old pancakes into his mouth. I didn’t recognize the title of “Labyrinth,” but as I began to watch it with him, I slowly realized I also loved this movie as a child. I was amazed that Padilla was showing the same older movies to her 2-yearold son that my parents showed to me and my brother.
The next few minutes consisted of Rumaldo munching on differently shaped pancakes (a heart, caterpillar and Nemo). As
I watched the movie with
Rumaldo, I began to feel myself taking on the role of a single mom. I imagined myself watching my son grow and thought about how beautiful this small child was.
While Padilla prepared dinner, Rumaldo busied himself. He watched the movie, played with a book, broke out the
Play-Dough and ate three pancakes. Rumaldo showed me how to play with the Play-Dough.
I couldn’t believe how open and kind Rumaldo was to me, a complete stranger, and how similar he was to his mother.
Rumaldo laughed and smiled, and even though
I was exhausted, I found myself doing the same.
Dinner time consisted of organic apple juice and
Thai noodles. The meal was surprisingly filling and also tasty.
Within five minutes,
Rumaldo was done and throwing food, gurgling his apple juice and spitting out noodles. I was laughing hysterically while
Padilla gave me a look and said, “I pick my battles, he does this everyday, three times a day.” She let him out of his chair, barely getting a chance to eat herself, and asked him to pick up the noodles he had thrown. He didn’t react immediately, so she bribed him with a present later. “Bribery always works,” she said. I wrote a mental note just in case
I need to use that tactic when I’m a mother.
After cleaning up the noodles, Rumaldo ran off to the living room.
She quickly said, “He’ll give me five minutes and scream for me soon.”
I laughed as she took another bite of noodles, and within five minutes, we found ourselves in the living room with Rumal do, opening the present
Alicia promised.
Soon, it was time for me to call it a night; however, I knew her night was far from over; she still had to clean the kitchen, give Rumaldo a bath and finish homework. When
I got home, I knew I wouldn’t have the energy to do anything, especially put a kid to bed. I already had a high respect for
Padilla, and single moms in general, but had never witnessed first-hand a mom and child. It gave me more appreciation for my parents, my life and, more important, the children I may have one day and the kind of mother I would be.
Sarah Whittle