We returned from our two-week vacation on Tuesday and it’s Saturday night and I still haven’t finished unpacking. For those of you who are my Facebook friends and know I still have my Christmas tree up, this does not come as a shock. Part of the problem is that we came back with a bunch of Christmas presents — toys and clothes — and while unpacking them, I’m going through and getting rid of the old toys and clothes. I’m realizing in the process that a house with three different ages and two different sexes of children accumulates a lot of stuff. Yeesh.
Our trip was great — we spent a week in San Jose with my parents (sans Chris, who had to work) and a week in LA with Chris’s family and our friends where I sat in the sun like a lizard as often as possible. I used to think my family from NY was insane when they’d visit in Jan and insist on wearing shorts but I totally went there. I ate too much chocolate with my family and drank too much with Chris’s family (not that they’re alcoholics. Or that they drive me to drink. Or even that I got drunk, for that matter. I just meant that I had more drinks in LA than San Jose and they have lots of calories and…ahhhh! I shall now be silent) and I’m in serious need of some green veggies and a few 3-mile hikes up the sledding hill here.
I find that on the drive home from CA, the kids do great until about two hours from home. Then they, and I, get cranky and I spend my time trying not to encourage Chris to drive faster through the mountains and get us home already. But I like road trips because they inspire me. I find that if I stay home, eventually I become convinced that actually going anywhere is a lot harder than it really is. So then I keep staying home and then I really never go anywhere. A road trip reminds me that it is actually possible to get out and go far places with the kids. Now I have all kinds of big plans — this summer I want to go to NY and then pit stop in Kentucky and if we have time in the middle, maybe we should go to Washington, D.C. We’ll probably only get as far as the state line, but I enjoy the dream.
We’re Back! Sort of.
I wanted to commemorate this historic election and have something to show the kids when they were older and the idea of not ever having had a black president seems completely foreign to them. So I bought a copy of this week’s People magazine with Barack Obama on the cover. I see this as a sign of maturity, because I know I’m actually going to read People. There was a time in my life when I would have bought Time instead, intending to read it. I would have read the first few pages with the fluffy parts and probably the cover story and then they would have written something detailed about the surge in Iraq or interest rates and their effect on the world economy and I would have put Time carefully on my coffee table for everyone to see and busted out In Style for actual reading. Because as much as I need to be informed about Iraq and the economy, I really need to know whether low-rise jeans are finally, finally out of vogue (Side note: how come when I was young and thin and in high school, the style was baby doll dresses and empire-waisted flannel granny dresses that could have hidden the gingerbread children from The Nutcracker and the minute I had kids and perhaps still look like there are more in there that haven’t come out yet, low-rise jeans and strappy tank tops come out? God’s way of keeping me humble?)
So in ten years, when the kids are going through old stuff and come across People magazine, they can also read about Beyonce’s dresses and Lauren Conrad. I was never interested in the war strategies or economic policies from when my parents were young. But I did mock their fashion sense.
I’m a Lone Reed
I went to the movies by myself last Saturday night. I’d forgotten how much I enjoy that. When you think about it, why is movie-watching considered a group activity anyway? You don’t talk. In fact, the worst people to go to movies with are those who keep yapping at you while you’re trying to watch the movie. So you’re going to the movies with someone you hope doesn’t actually talk to you. I say, better (and cheaper!) to go alone. I didn’t have to share my armrest or my Junior Mints and I laughed like an idiot whenever I felt like it. And there was no one to disagree with how much I enjoyed the movie (Mamma Mia) or point out its flaws (if you didn’t like it, I don’t wanna hear about it. That’s why I didn’t invite you to go with me.) In a period of my life when I can’t even go to the bathroom alone, going by myself to a movie is a blessed, blessed thing.
Buffalo Huntin’
My cousin Pete and his girlfriend stopped in last night. I love living near the middle of the country. We get guests from both coasts and everywhere in between. Pete just finished grad school and is heading to LA to make his fortune. And when he does, he’d better remember that I let him crash in my basement and do his laundry.
They’d gone through South Dakota and were on the lookout for bison, which they never saw (Pete exacted his revenge by eating one for dinner later that night) so we drove up I-70 to a lookout near here to see if we could find us some CO buffalo (I know, I know — bison. You think you’re so smart.) We found some hanging out by the freeway and then spent an hour driving around trying to get a better view. I finally gave up and we pulled off the side of the freeway and watched them for a while. I got so excited watching them do boring, buffalo-type things (“Look, look, he’s laying down! Oooooh, he’s drinking!”) They’re just so funny. They look like big, furry couches standing in an open field.
Tidbits, Anecdotes and General Musings
-So Chris was BBQing on Mother’s Day and I was talking to our neighbors across the street — the Hernandezes — who asked what we were having. When I told them Chris was grilling carne asada, they asked, “What’s carne asada?” Only in CO will you find a Hernandez who’s never heard of carne asada…
-Alexis’ favorite insullt is, “Go ‘way, ya iyot!!!!” (translated: “Go away, you idiot!”) She learned it from a Disney movie and uses it on everyone from Timothy to Thomas the Tank Engine. Try and teach a toddler Bible verses and cute songs and they’ll never get it right, but show them “101 Dalmations” once and they can remember every single insult, store them up, and bring them out during church or family dinners with grandparents.
-my sister is visiting for 10 days and painted these really cool murals in the older kids’ rooms. Timothy has a dark blue wall with a view of Earth from space and lots of stars all over and Alexis has a room with flowers and butterflies. Now I’m going to be upset if our house burns up. Before, it just would have been a pain, but now I really will be sad to lose the paintings.
-my brother was here for part of the time, too, so we went on a few hikes with the kids. Hiking with kids is an exercise in patience and submission because we never get more than a mile. Sometimes — when it’s just me and them — we don’t make it past the bathrooms at the end of the parking lot. I tell myself it’s worth it just to get to the mountains, even if I have to enjoy them from next to a Port-A-Potty. The women at church are going on a hike next month and I’m very excited at the prospect of seeing a trail through to the end again.
-one day last week, Alexis went upstairs and got out the toothpaste. I was feeding Caleb and had to leave him to go clean it up. When I came back, Caleb had taken an entire plate of mashed bananas and thrown them on his face, his clothes, the dog and the floor.
-one day last week, Chris did some touch-up painting. I noticed later that Stewart laid down next to it and got paint all over his left side. I took him in the bathroom to wash him, where he peed on the floor and my foot. By the time I was done, I had washed the dog, the bathtub, the bathroom floor, a load of towels and myself.
Say What?
Things That I Say to the Kids That Would Sound Funny in an Adult Conversation:
-”What’s wrong, Mr. Fussy?”
-”No stickers on your brother’s head.”
-”In this house, we always put on pants before we go outside. That’s the rule.”
-”Please stop petting your brother.”
-”Take that knife out of your mouth.”
-”Don’t bite the dog.”
-”Did you just rub snot on me?”
While Timothy and I were in the middle of one of our rare (hah!) arguments…brought on by the fact that I told him to do something and he refused…he yelled, “I just wanna do what I wanna do when I wanna do it!!!”
Don’t we all?
Easter
Okay. So. Yesterday was Easter. The day our Lord and Savior rose from the dead, three days after a horrible crucifixion. A day more meaningful to me spiritually than even Christmas, I think…though I guess you can’t have one without the other. But why is it that on such days, when I am determined to reflect and trying to be…you know…holy and stuff…the little foibles and antics of children that generally happen over a succession of days all happen at once?
Alexis had a new Easter dress to wear to church so I got her all dressed and was busy feeding Caleb while Chris was outside shoveling snow (thaaaaaaat’s right. Snow. Sigh.) and it got uncannily quiet. I should have known. By the time I tracked her down, she’d colored all over both arms with a Rollerball ink pen. She looked like a tattooed lady. I scrubbed her off as best I could (those pens aren’t meant to come off. They’re actually meant for grown-ups. 1,051 washable Magic Markers in this house and the kids play with my ink pen.) By the time she was clean and I picked up Caleb to go to church, his breakfast prunes had charged through him like a herd of buffalo and everything from the waist down was covered in…well…baby poop. I swore when I became a mom I wouldn’t talk about baby poop. And now I’m doing it on Easter. So I changed him. I’m pretty sure he got it on me and I went to church with baby poop on my jacket. Fortunately none of the people I shook hands with that morning read this blog.
That night after all the kids were in bed, Alexis started yelling for me. I went upstairs to hear her shout, “I need to wash my face!” and looked in her room where she had taken out every one of the wet wipes in a 100-count box, then discarded them on the floor — apparently in search of the perfect wipe with which to wash her face.
I guess if I’m going to want a moment of spiritual reflection, I’m going to have to start getting up at 4am.
So now that the kids seem to be all cured — Chris is sick. He’s been sick for an entire week and I know it’s legit because he spent the last two nights on the couch, watching the 5-hour BBC Pride & Prejudice miniseries (oh, yes, my friend…I have it on DVD) with me. He’d only do that if he were too sick to protest or too hopped up on painkillers from being sick to mind (I think it was the latter — he was oddly into the whole program and at one point yelled at Mr. Bingley’s evil sister.)
Saturday it was 70 degrees here and every single person (except Chris, suffering from his Job-like afflictions alone in a dark house) in Colorado was outside. We went to the park and I was actually afraid I couldn’t keep track of the kids, there were so many there. Sunday, we woke up to blowing snow — we ended up with about 8 inches. Ahhhh, spring.
Alexis stopped calling Timothy “Fifi” and is now calling him a very carefully enunciated “Tim-o-fee.” Sigh. Another sign that they’re growing up. I was hoping we’d call him Fifi until he was 40 (you know, while he’s living in his mother’s basement). At least she still says, “See you later, crocodile.” I took her and Timothy to the movies yesterday while it was snowing and she’s so little, she got folded up in the movie seat when she tried to sit down.
Just some random things happening over the last week or two:
-Timothy learned about his “large intesticle” and his “small intesticle” at school today.
-I swear I’ve had the flu twice in the last two weeks. I know you’re supposed to build up an immunity and not get the same disease twice but it felt like the flu both times. Maybe it was two different flus. An unexpected perk — I lost weight and I can tighten my belt another notch…I have limp, nasty hair and a fever blister on my lip but I choose to believe that those will go away and the weight loss will remain.
-I asked Alexis to put her toys away one day when she was feeling sick (sorry — most of my stories have to do with being sick. We have been since Christmas, I think) and she looked up at me with these huge saucer eyes, stuck out her lower lip and said, “I sick.” Chris and I have decided that Timothy’s vocabulary was bigger at this age, but this one is craftier. (No, it didn’t work. I don’t know much, but I do know when a two-year old is trying to play me like a violin.)
-Caleb rolled over yesterday — Feb. 24, 2008. I note the date because I long ago gave up trying to write these things down in a baby book and I’m hoping that twenty years from now, I will be able to retrieve this account from somewhere out in The Great Void and tell him these things.
-After two weeks of visitors (yeay, Holli! Yeay, Mom & Dad!), even the dog is misbehaving now. It takes a while for people (and, apparently, dogs) to get back in the normal swing of things. Stewart jumped up on the table and ate Timothy’s sandwich at lunchtime today. Then he ran and hid in Caleb’s room with his face to the wall and pretended not to hear when we called him. It’s amazing how similar dogs and preschoolers act when they know they’re in trouble.
-An artist made a sculpture of a horse that now sits outside Denver International Airport. It’s purple (or is it blue? Holli?) and at night, its eyes glow red like one of the Horses of the Apocalypse (yes, I know they’re the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse…but it stands to reason the horsemen would have been on horses. And I’m pretty sure the horses would have looked like this monstrosity)
