New Tricks

So here are a few of Baby's new tricks. The other day I turned around and caught my baby doing this:



Oh my goodness!! When did my kid become a climber? Well, now her high chair looks like this:


I love that our high chair will do that!! And now that it's so low, she can climb up into it and sit down and look at me expectantly as if to say "um, when is my food coming? I'm in my place and ready. SERVE ME!!" It's just one more way that she doesn't have to speak. She tells me she's hungry by sitting in her chair. She's never going to speak. I've just accepted it.














And this is my favorite blue plate special. Cookin' up a mean slice of Bibi pie. Yum yum!!
















And just for kicks, here is a video of her trying to diaper her osito. I think I should put her on diaper duty for herself. She looks like she has some skillz!

Book Bored

I have 15 books on hold at my library. Only problem? I'm not first in line for any of them!! So out of the 15 books I want to read, none are available! So upsetting. I'm book bored.

Whatever, moving on. My daughter is adorable. When you go in her room first thing in the morning, this is what she does:



She just wants to hand you her 3 blankets and 4 peluches. EVERY DAY. She's like "Thanks for coming to see me today. I will be playing with this, and this and this. Please carry it for me. That will do."

(The best part of that video is her hair sticking up on the side. Freaking awesome)

Also, she tries to put a diaper on the osito. Marcelo saw it the first time on Tuesday. My child is amazingly cute. She lays it down, on the ground or the couch, lays out the diaper, and wraps it around. ARRGH!! Her cuteness makes me want to stab myself! I'm trying to get a video of it too. But she has a radar so she'll stop immediately when she sees you try to get it on camera.

And finally, she's basically a mute. I mean she babbles all the time, but no words at all. NOTHING. She's even regressed and is no longer saying "Raya" or "gracias" or "mama". She's totally a mute. She clearly understands me. I can ask for something by name, and she will pick it out of a group of things and bring it to me. So she understands, but chooses not to talk.

Sometimes she communicates in other ways. When she wants to go outside, she brings me my shoes, her shoes, and then my pants. (yes, I'm usually pants-less around the house) She's clearly stating she wants to go outside and walk with Raya. So communication is very non-verbal. Lots of pointing and bringing of things. And when she wants me to sing "Dos Manitos" she waves her fingers in a certain way.

But seriously? 16 months and no words? When should I start to see a specialist about this?

Or this:



I don't think it's good when your child prefers spinning to eating cake batter off a beater. There is something wrong with her mind if that's the case.

Book Review:The Secret Life of Bees

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd


My rating: 3 of 5 stars
SPOILER ALERT! Thank heavens no one died! I hate stories about the south/civil rights/race relations because you KNOW there will be injustice and most likely an innocent black man/boy/girl/child will die. And I really can't handle any more of those stories.

Luckily this didn't have that. It didn't really have much of anything else, either. I mean, for the fact that it was on the best-seller's list and then got made into a movie, I thought it was going to be outstanding. I give it a one-shouldered shrug.

However, reading this I've discovered that I'm destined to live in the south. Reasons? #1)I love cornbread. I know this is a huge stereotype. But I do love it. #2) I love things made with and cooked in fat/lard. And that's where all the flavor is. Am I right or am I right, Lynn? And #3) I like saying "Sir" and "ma'am". I'm not consistent, but I do like saying it. And I want my daughter to say it.

Anyway, the book was a snooze, but the cornbread I'm currently eating is delicious!!

Book Review: The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America by Erik Larson


My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This book was like 2 or 3 stories put into one. I don't think the title was very descriptive. A better title would've been "Chicago's White City: The World's Fair that was Almost a Disaster, and the Men Who Made a Miracle Happen. . . Oh Yeah and There was a Psycho who Killed People Right Around the Same Time who Lived Right Next Door."

Yes, I like my title better.

I did like the talk about the world's fair. It's amazing that back in 1891 they would tell Chicago that they could have a world's fair and that it should be up and ready to go in 26 months. It's like the Olympics!! they needed years to plan and build. The story of how these men came together and fought through red tape to make it happen is crazy. The story of the Ferris Wheel is mind-boggling. Just trying to imagine how big it really was that each car could hold 100 people and there were 36 cars each! And how they fired it up the first time bolts and screw were popping off and falling down to the ground. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!? It's awesome

The parts about the "Devil" are heartbreaking. How was it possible that women could just disappear? I mean, he was like the CENTER POINT for all these women leaving, the last to see them alive, and yet he could convince their fathers, brothers, wives, etc that the women had just traveled away and would come back. Talk about less effective police work!

I gave this book 4 stars because it kept me interested. Even though it felt like there were 3 stories meshed into 1, each one of the stories was interesting, captivating and could've stood on it's own.

Tricked

I'm into reminiscing. Which is what Lobster do for hours and hours when we get together. And she reminded me of this little incident from when we were on our mission and serving together:

On the mission, I hated tracting. Hated it like nothing else. I think this is due to the fact that recently I have come to realize that I am VERY passive aggressive. Secretly recording my boss's conversations, avoiding conflicts, letting things continue to bother me so that I don't have to confront a person. DEFINITE SIGNS OF PASSIVE AGGRESSION. And I think that door knocking was the MOST aggressive things that we as missionaries did. It had built in conflict right in it. And I hated it.

I mean, I had NO problem talking to people at other times. On a bus, in a cab, in the grocery store, walking down the street, in the park, waiting in line to pay my light bill. I had no problem doing this. But I absolutely hated knocking on someone's door, pulling them away from cooking or spending time with their family, and then giving them a message in my crappy Spanish. And then have them try to pretend that they didn't understand me. Or have them slam the door in my face. I HAAAAAATED tracting.

Judd knew this. Well, she found this out after a few days together when she said, "are we going tracting?" and I said "I hate tracting. I don't want to do it" and the message was pretty clear then. Plus, me being senior companion I got to make decisions like that.

But what to do when you have no one to teach? Judd came from a long history of tracting, and I did not. And it pissed her off when we had nothing to do. And she had one answer for it. But I didn't like what she suggested.

So one day, one of our appointments blew us off. We started to walk somewhere. I don't remember where we were heading, (home maybe?) when all of a sudden, Judd stops in front of a door and knocks on it. I was super confused. So I asked her, "Who's house is this?" and she said, "Somebody's". I said, "Do we have an appointment?" And I don't think I was met with anything more than a "hmmmm"

I looked around. What street were we on? How did she meet these people without my knowing? I've been in this area longer than she had, so how did she know them and I didn't? Then I look up. I look down the street. I looked back the other way. I looked behind me to find out what manzano we were on. I look at Judd's face. And she won't return my gaze. AND I KNEW. We were currently tracting. NOOOOOOOOOO!!!

I can tell you that I know EXACTLY how a dog feels to realize that it's been trapped in the car and it being taken to the vet for a series of shots. Betrayal, horror, fear, shock, hurt. You name it, I ran the whole gamut of emotions in that one moment.

And we did it. And it wasn't so bad. We didn't find any golden contacts or anything, but no one tried to kill me. And only a few people slammed the door in my face. And when we left that house she very bluntly stated, "We have to go tracting. We have to. You have no choice." She was right of course. And we did it a few more times while we were together. And I'm sure I whined and tried to weasel out of it each time. But she didn't take any of my BS. Because that's what a lobster does. They don't take crap, even from their senior companion best friend. They just don't.

I love you, Lobster.

Lobster Tales

Do you have a Lobster? Do you have someone who just gets you? With whom you can never go wrong? Who listens to everything you say, and even when they don't agree with you, they still love talking to you? Someone who shares in your happiest moments and your most embarrassing horrors and still doesn't judge you? Someone who you would give a kidney or a child to if you were to die? That person is your lobster.

I got to go to Arizona last week to visit my Lobster. It was bliss. We got to swim in her freezing pool (yes! It was 106 degrees outside but the pool was still so cold!) during which she almost had to save my child's life. And she made me a birthday cake AND took me to a birthday dinner and wouldn't let me do or pay for anything. But the joke was on her the first day!! While she was in the bathroom I snuck to the counter and paid the bill. MWAAA HAAA HAAAA!!

She is the most attentive, best friend ever. And she takes care of everything!! I only had to bring one small bag because she had everything for me and my baby. Crib, Boppy, toys, books, wipes, swimming diapers, snacks. She had it all!! And what she didn't have, she offered to get me. She's just the combo of the best hotel and the most interesting person in the world. You all need to get one of them. I promise, it will change your life.

It was the best 4 days ever. And my baby was so good. Most of the time. I was kind of far away from her room, so my Lobster (And Mr. Lobster) got to hear her through the night. I guess she woke up a few times. I've trained myself not to hear it unless she cries for a while. And she didn't. Just long enough to wake up our terrific hosts.

Also, Evi learned that if someone has something you want, you can go up and grab it out of her hands. This was tough for a 3 year old (Lobster's daughter)to deal with: a 16 month old ruining your whole world. Evi did a pretty good job adjusting when I took the things away and gave it back. She quickly went and found a new toy to play with. But there was a good tug of war going on before that. And half the time Darby would lose the toy and she didn't take the loss as well. I don't blame her!! I get pissed when something is just slow coming to me. Imagine if it got taken away!! Don't blame her a bit.

Darby was hot and cold towards Evi. One sec she was flinging herself down the indoor slide to make my child laugh, and then next she was trying to "help" her down the stairs. Evi HATED when that kid touched her. It made me laugh so hard. She was like "get your hands off me!!!" and would shrug off her hands all the time and then scream if the touching persisted. So freaking funny. I kind hoped that Darby would touch her more to see how my kid would flip out. Hilarious.

Anyway, as is customary with my trips down to see my lobster, I didn't take any pictures. I took one of my baby crawling into her entertainment center, and one of her spinning around and licking the cake batter beater. But none of Darby, none of lobster and none of us together!! Kind of less effective, but pretty standard at this point

So basically, if you are expecting awesome pictures of us together, you are sorely out of luck.

I loved my time in AZ. If possible I would've stayed longer. (and actually kind of did get an extra day there) And why not stay longer? Wouldn't you want to stay forever with your lobster?

I know I do!

P.S. Not enough is said about Mr. Lobster and how awesome he is. But I tread lightly here because praising another woman's husband is a tricky thing. But I love her husband with all my heart and I'm so thankful that he gives up wife, house and everything else to accommodate me when I come to town. So to him I say: THANKS AGAIN!!! My love and friendship with your wife would not be possible with your your help and support.

Imagined Conversation

You: Hey there, Alicia. What are you doing today?

Me: Oh, just sitting here icing my boobs.

You: ICING YOUR BOOBS!! WITH FROSTING?? That sounds delicious? Wait a minute. . .is this some sort of "marital love" thing? (you make gagging noises)

Me: NO PERVERT!!!! I'm icing them WITH ICE. I've made an ice pack for myself and I've currently got these babies to a temp of sub zero.

You: Oh! that sounds so painful. Why are you doing that?

Me: Well, it's better than the alternative. Which is throbbing, swollen, tender to the touch boobs that threaten to burst upon contact.

You: Ok, you are right. That does sound worse. But why are they swollen? Didn't you gradually ween your child? Didn't you take months to slowly cut down her feedings so that you wouldn't have this pain again?

Me: Oh yeah!! I took 4 feedings to 3, then to 2 then to 1. Then with that 1 feeding, I started timing it. I noticed that she was eating 3 minutes on each side. So I started reducing that time. First 2 minutes on each time, then 90 seconds. Then just 60 seconds. I did that for about 2 weeks. Just a feeding of 60 seconds. Most days she went to bed still quite awake, but that was good practice for when I stopped all together, right? I totally had a plan.

You: And what a plan it was!! And becuase you did this gradual ween and she was only eating 2 min total every 24 hours, it can be assumed that there were no problems when you stopped feeding her all together, right? I'm sure it went smoothly and there is no pain or anything, right?

Me: Did you have an aneurysm in the past 2 minutes? Did you forget what I said about me icing my boobs? Does it sound like it went painlessly?

You: So when did you stop?

Me: Monday night was the last time she ate

You: So it's been 2 days now?

Me: Yes. Two horrible hellish days that will never end.

You: Oh, I'm sure you are just exaggerating that.

Me: Am I exaggerating little rocks in my boobs? Am I exaggerating leaking? Am I exaggerating going up a size and a half in my bra?

You: Uhh, errr, I guess. . .

Me: I GUESS YOU OWE ME AN APOLOGY!!!

You: *Shamefaced* I guess I do.

Me: This is why I never wanted to quit feeding her. I don't know if it's every going to go away. There is no "relief" feeding on the horizon. Will they stay like this forever? How long until they stop leaking? YES!!! LEAKING!!!! How long before they stop throbbing? How long before the little "boob rocks" go away?

You: I don't know. I never had this problem.

Me: No one else does. Except that crazy lady in my ward who lives in her parent's basement, home schools, and is pregnant with her 7th kid. And you all have reduced me to talk to her. I BLAME ALL OF YOU FOR FORCING ME TO TURN TO HER!!

You: *Lowly and meekly* Please forgive me for my ultimate dishonor.

Me: Honestly, if I could've nursed her forever, I think I would've. Because 3 min a night was not a horrible sacrifice. And I really didn't want to have this pain ever again. I only stopped because *SOME OF YOU* threatened to make fun of me if she was still feeding past her 18th month. Some friends you are!!

You: Again, please forgive me for my impertinence. I promise to be a better friend from here on.

Me: That will do. You are dismissed


AAAAANNNNND SCENE!!!!!!!!

I think that was pretty realistic, don't you?

But seriously, my boobs are killing me. Time for more ice.


P.S. Kudos to Hoolie on the "ultimate dishonor" line. She always used to make me laugh by saying it.