Joelito, who is of course the delight of my eyes and the joy of my existence, has managed to insert Unidentified Foreign Objects deep into the bowels of both toilets. Despite multiple trips to Lowe's and Home Depot, Carlos' best efforts to unclog them have thus far been in vain. Taking them apart will be the last ditch effort tonight before calling in a costly professional.
I am not a profane woman; I often even eschew euphemisms. (Although I admit to being proud of the title today. For non-Spanish speakers, it technically means Wednesday, which is of course appropriate. It also could be the equivalent to "Shi....take mushooms"). I admit, however, that this situation just seems to be begging for potty jokes. So as not to offend my more genteel readers, I will leave them to your imaginations. But if you come up with a particularly good one, feel free to leave a comment (which may not be published, but will amuse me anyway). :)
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
I don't think we should have added the oil...
Overheard while the kids are in the kitchen--"Joel, do we need a recipe book?" "No, more salt, please." "Yes, here you go." "Thanks" "Where's the rolling pin?" "I want the scissors, please." (At this point I quickly appear).
"Mami, we were trying to make honey" (as I survey the goopy mess all over the counter). "I don't think Elena should eat it, though. It might be a little bit yucky."
A bit doubtfully--"Joel, I don't think we should have added the oil". As far as I can tell, the concoction is a mixture of sugar, cinnamon, canola oil, apple juice and perhaps coffee grounds. I agree with Ariana--the oil was probably not a good idea, and definitely not for Elena. I'm too amused by the conversation to intervene beyond making sure that no scissors or knives are within reach.
"It says we have to add lettuce." "Joel, if you add soap in there, it will taste poisonous. Like paint." (Note: Their only taste of soap has been from ingesting bathwater, which I firmly discourage, and I do not believe either has tasted paint).
Happily--"Look, here's a whipped cream cake! Without any wheat, eggs, cornstarch or corn syrup. Hear that Joel? We can eat it! Always let a grown-up help you with a knife or the stove." (At least they remember some of the basic safety information).
"And you need candles with fire. Joel, you should let me turn on the fire." (We don't have matches, and the lighters we have are inaccessible).
Both of them beaming with delight--"We had fun cooking, mami!"
"Mami, we were trying to make honey" (as I survey the goopy mess all over the counter). "I don't think Elena should eat it, though. It might be a little bit yucky."
A bit doubtfully--"Joel, I don't think we should have added the oil". As far as I can tell, the concoction is a mixture of sugar, cinnamon, canola oil, apple juice and perhaps coffee grounds. I agree with Ariana--the oil was probably not a good idea, and definitely not for Elena. I'm too amused by the conversation to intervene beyond making sure that no scissors or knives are within reach.
"It says we have to add lettuce." "Joel, if you add soap in there, it will taste poisonous. Like paint." (Note: Their only taste of soap has been from ingesting bathwater, which I firmly discourage, and I do not believe either has tasted paint).
Happily--"Look, here's a whipped cream cake! Without any wheat, eggs, cornstarch or corn syrup. Hear that Joel? We can eat it! Always let a grown-up help you with a knife or the stove." (At least they remember some of the basic safety information).
"And you need candles with fire. Joel, you should let me turn on the fire." (We don't have matches, and the lighters we have are inaccessible).
Both of them beaming with delight--"We had fun cooking, mami!"
Quality time?
I just mentioned to Ariana that perhaps this week, she could go get ice cream with Daddy and me, just the three of us. Her eyes got big. "Just me? Not Elena or Joel?" I nodded, expecting her to be pleased. Instead, her face fell. "Oh, mom, that would be really boring. I want to take my sister, too." Awwwww. I still think she needs some one-on-one time, but it was very sweet to hear that she wants to be with her siblings, too.
First memories
I've been playing with Elena, who is at that stage where any attention is rewarded with chuckles, squeals and grins. I wonder what her first memories will be. Will they be happy ones?
I've read some interesting things that suggest that babies remember events from the womb, although sometimes subconsciously, up until around two years of age. I don't know that I believe it (and I do not have any prenatal memories that I am aware of), but it is interesting to think about. I think that they are affected by some of the mother's hormones, so it makes sense that they might be aware of moods or stress to some extent.
My earliest memories are all from around age two. I'm surprised at how many things I clearly remember, even though most things are just flashes, like a photo of a particular moment. I remember...
...coloring with my mom. I was frustrated because hers looked so much better than mine (if she had realized that, she probably would have started scribbling). She told me that her favorite color was blue. I don't remember my favorite then, but in first grade it was red-violet.
...going to kinder with Miriam and Fer. On the way, we always jumped off a little ledge. It was just above my knees (so what? Less than a foot high?) and it felt very daring.
...playing on the roof with my dog, and giving her a bath there. No wonder I've always loved heights!
...going over to Ivan's house to see his latest toys. They were always very cool, but I didn't always get to play with them, or at least not as much as I wanted.
...playing with my best friend, Gabi. We played in his back yard, in the church, on the merry-go-round with his abuela. I recall how scared I was when I heard about his foot getting caught in the spokes of the tricycle, and how disappointed I was that we couldn't play while it was healing.
...my third birthday. I got a cake with a merry-go-round, and a Lego set just like Gabi's! And the most special part was that his mom gave me permission to rub the soft, fuzzy leaves on her flowers (violets?). I loved to feel them!
...being told not to pick my nose. This made no sense to me. Why shouldn't I? Was it bad? No, not exactly, it was just something we should not do in front of other people (if it were Really Bad, it would still be wrong, even if no one could see you). So why was it sort of bad? Well, it was rude. How? Did it hurt people's feelings? Well, no, but it was yucky. How could it be yucky? It felt so satisfying! Besides, my boogers were pretty small, so other people didn't have to look at them.
...spilling a drink on a lacy white tablecloth when we were visiting. Was I going to get a spanking? No, because it was just an accident. This puzzled me, too. I didn't quite grasp the distinction. My kids are definitely capable of making choices, but I wonder at what age they would be able to really understand punishment as justice rather than an arbitrary result of our displeasure.
...being apprehensive about getting into and out of the boat at Xochimilco. The water was such a deep, murky green--would they be able to find me if I fell in?
...dancing during the worship service at church. Legs were flying everywhere! I don't remember the song, but I can clearly recall the joy and exuberance that filled the room. I'm glad my first memory of church is such a happy one.
...being totally fascinated by the lipstick worn by two of the ladies at church. One wore a perfect, bubble-gum pink; the other wore a brilliant tangerine. I wanted to be old enough to wear lipstick like that!
...eating at McDonald's with my parents. Their burgers were much more interesting than mine. They were bigger, too. Of course, mine came with a toy, and theirs didn't, but then again, I couldn't eat the toy. I remember my dad sharing his BigMac. From then on, I got to order off the adult menu.
There are so many more. Many are happy, some are unpleasant, some funny. Just everyday stuff. I hope that the normal, everyday memories I am creating for my kids will be warm and happy ones of being loved and learning to love others, too.
I've read some interesting things that suggest that babies remember events from the womb, although sometimes subconsciously, up until around two years of age. I don't know that I believe it (and I do not have any prenatal memories that I am aware of), but it is interesting to think about. I think that they are affected by some of the mother's hormones, so it makes sense that they might be aware of moods or stress to some extent.
My earliest memories are all from around age two. I'm surprised at how many things I clearly remember, even though most things are just flashes, like a photo of a particular moment. I remember...
...coloring with my mom. I was frustrated because hers looked so much better than mine (if she had realized that, she probably would have started scribbling). She told me that her favorite color was blue. I don't remember my favorite then, but in first grade it was red-violet.
...going to kinder with Miriam and Fer. On the way, we always jumped off a little ledge. It was just above my knees (so what? Less than a foot high?) and it felt very daring.
...playing on the roof with my dog, and giving her a bath there. No wonder I've always loved heights!
...going over to Ivan's house to see his latest toys. They were always very cool, but I didn't always get to play with them, or at least not as much as I wanted.
...playing with my best friend, Gabi. We played in his back yard, in the church, on the merry-go-round with his abuela. I recall how scared I was when I heard about his foot getting caught in the spokes of the tricycle, and how disappointed I was that we couldn't play while it was healing.
...my third birthday. I got a cake with a merry-go-round, and a Lego set just like Gabi's! And the most special part was that his mom gave me permission to rub the soft, fuzzy leaves on her flowers (violets?). I loved to feel them!
...being told not to pick my nose. This made no sense to me. Why shouldn't I? Was it bad? No, not exactly, it was just something we should not do in front of other people (if it were Really Bad, it would still be wrong, even if no one could see you). So why was it sort of bad? Well, it was rude. How? Did it hurt people's feelings? Well, no, but it was yucky. How could it be yucky? It felt so satisfying! Besides, my boogers were pretty small, so other people didn't have to look at them.
...spilling a drink on a lacy white tablecloth when we were visiting. Was I going to get a spanking? No, because it was just an accident. This puzzled me, too. I didn't quite grasp the distinction. My kids are definitely capable of making choices, but I wonder at what age they would be able to really understand punishment as justice rather than an arbitrary result of our displeasure.
...being apprehensive about getting into and out of the boat at Xochimilco. The water was such a deep, murky green--would they be able to find me if I fell in?
...dancing during the worship service at church. Legs were flying everywhere! I don't remember the song, but I can clearly recall the joy and exuberance that filled the room. I'm glad my first memory of church is such a happy one.
...being totally fascinated by the lipstick worn by two of the ladies at church. One wore a perfect, bubble-gum pink; the other wore a brilliant tangerine. I wanted to be old enough to wear lipstick like that!
...eating at McDonald's with my parents. Their burgers were much more interesting than mine. They were bigger, too. Of course, mine came with a toy, and theirs didn't, but then again, I couldn't eat the toy. I remember my dad sharing his BigMac. From then on, I got to order off the adult menu.
There are so many more. Many are happy, some are unpleasant, some funny. Just everyday stuff. I hope that the normal, everyday memories I am creating for my kids will be warm and happy ones of being loved and learning to love others, too.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
You love them more than me!
Sigh. That has been a frequent phrase from our oldest the last week or two. It hurts me to see her hurting, of course, and I feel frustrated and guilty. I need several clones--one to teach, one to clean house, one to be a wife, one for each of my children, and one to just be me.
It is so hard to prioritize some days, knowing that something is going to be left out (OK, so the house cleaning is always the first to be sacrificed--that is an easy one). Lately, with an itty-bitty one and a two-year-old with sniffles, I've taken advantage of Ariana's ability to happily occupy herself (or happily occupy her younger siblings).
She hasn't shown any resentment towards them at all. It isn't that she begrudges them time, attention and affection. She just really needs assurance that *she* is special to me, and that she merits our love.
It is kind of interesting that even though she stopped nursing back in March or April, she has recently started asking again. Every time she asks, I let her, but she has forgotten how, so it lasts barely a couple of seconds.
How do you reassure a four year old that she will always be cherished? We've tried words and logic, and they haven't helped. That isn't particularly surprising, given her age and the fact that it isn't an intellectual issue as much as an emotional one. We've tried giving her extra attention and it helps a little bit, but it seems as if her love-cup has a leak.
The things that have helped the most have been extra cuddles (holding her in my arms until she fell asleep last night) and trying to do special things for her (this morning, I arranged the banana slices on her brown sugar-banana fritters in the shape of a flower, and that seemed to mean a lot).
I think I need to get a copy of the Love Languages for Children. Does anyone have any ideas for helping a little one to feel treasured?
It is so hard to prioritize some days, knowing that something is going to be left out (OK, so the house cleaning is always the first to be sacrificed--that is an easy one). Lately, with an itty-bitty one and a two-year-old with sniffles, I've taken advantage of Ariana's ability to happily occupy herself (or happily occupy her younger siblings).
She hasn't shown any resentment towards them at all. It isn't that she begrudges them time, attention and affection. She just really needs assurance that *she* is special to me, and that she merits our love.
It is kind of interesting that even though she stopped nursing back in March or April, she has recently started asking again. Every time she asks, I let her, but she has forgotten how, so it lasts barely a couple of seconds.
How do you reassure a four year old that she will always be cherished? We've tried words and logic, and they haven't helped. That isn't particularly surprising, given her age and the fact that it isn't an intellectual issue as much as an emotional one. We've tried giving her extra attention and it helps a little bit, but it seems as if her love-cup has a leak.
The things that have helped the most have been extra cuddles (holding her in my arms until she fell asleep last night) and trying to do special things for her (this morning, I arranged the banana slices on her brown sugar-banana fritters in the shape of a flower, and that seemed to mean a lot).
I think I need to get a copy of the Love Languages for Children. Does anyone have any ideas for helping a little one to feel treasured?
Friday, September 12, 2008
Things that I really dislike
* Allergies
* Pantyhose (from the devil, I say)
* Floors that don't mop themselves :(
* Being interrupted when I am busy
* Cruelty
* Liver and other organ meats. Blech.
* When my kids are fighting or crying
* Working when the are sick
* Flies and mosquitos. Noah should've swatted them.
* Cigarette smoke
* Grading homework
* Hot, humid weather
* Pantyhose (from the devil, I say)
* Floors that don't mop themselves :(
* Being interrupted when I am busy
* Cruelty
* Liver and other organ meats. Blech.
* When my kids are fighting or crying
* Working when the are sick
* Flies and mosquitos. Noah should've swatted them.
* Cigarette smoke
* Grading homework
* Hot, humid weather
Things that make me happy
* Fuzzy socks
* Thunderstorms
* Good coffee with sweet cream
* Chocolate
* Comments on my blog
* Baby smiles
* Snuggling with my family
* Looking into Carlos' eyes and sharing a joke
* Long baths with lavender bath salts, candles and a good book
* BOOKS
* Listening to my kids playing happily
* Hearing an old favorite on the radio
* Thunderstorms
* Good coffee with sweet cream
* Chocolate
* Comments on my blog
* Baby smiles
* Snuggling with my family
* Looking into Carlos' eyes and sharing a joke
* Long baths with lavender bath salts, candles and a good book
* BOOKS
* Listening to my kids playing happily
* Hearing an old favorite on the radio
Thursday, September 11, 2008
A prophet in his own home...
Ha--so after giggling at Joel's comment about life-jackets, I was late to work today because several streets were flooded! No life-jackets required, thankfully. That'll teach me not to take him seriously, huh?
I can't go out in the rain!
...I don't have my life-jacket!--Joel, age 2. Yes, I probably am over-protective, but not to that extreme, I promise. It isn't even raining hard. :)
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Simple things
It is a cozy afternoon, very cloudy although not actually raining. We've been eating from a pot of beans simmering all day with caramelized onions, tomatoes, beef sausage, garlic and cilantro. The kids have been happily drawing. I'm going to fix a nice cup of decaf chai in a little bit, but I'm too satisfied to move right now.
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