Snow in April

I don't mind the snow in April. Really I don't. I lets me stay inside and clean (for some reason I always get really "nesty" when the weather is crappy) And we all know how I feel about the rain.

But I think the biggest reason I don't mind the snow in April is because I know that it won't last. Even though it is quite late in the season to get snow, that still doesn't matter for what we have coming up. Trips to the lake, trips to Missouri with my mom and finally fitting into that bathing suit I bought last year. All good things to look forward to.

I think that this is the same reason I don't have horrible memories of high school. I know this seems like a stretch, but follow me here. I know lots of people out there have horrible thoughts and feelings about school. Many of you (like me) changed schools when you were in Jr High and High school and that didn't help you at all with the fitting in.

Just the other day my sister and I were talking about this and she's is thinking about pulling her kids out and home schooling them when they are middle school aged. She just doesn't want her kids to be exposed to all the stuff that they will most likely get in a normal Jr High. And while I agree with her on that aspect, one of her arguments is that school at that age is rough on kids' self esteem. And I just don't see that. I never had that.

I guess I was always someone that had a friend and a past time. I always had someone to eat lunch with, and I had sports after school to keep me busy. Not only that, I was kind of a nerd, so I enjoyed going to classes and I enjoyed learning with the rest of my nerdy friends. We all had the same classes together, and so we all got to be "class friends" at least. Maybe we didn't hang out outside the class, but if I saw them in the hallway they wouldn't spit on me or shove my head in the toilet at least.

However, I think the biggest reason I don't have bad memories of high school is because I never wanted to be something I wasn't (except thinner. I always wanted to be thinner!) and I never wanted to be in a different group. I never looked at the popular kids and said "oh, I want to be in their group" nor did I think that with the Emo kids, the skaters, the band groupies, the goths or the cowboys. I was just happy being where I was. I was happy talking to my friends, hanging out with them on the weekend and playing sports. I was just happy with what I had and with what I was.

And I knew it would all end soon. I knew that I would graduate and most likely go to BYU. If not there, I knew I would go away to SOME college. I knew that I would leave my high school behind and I would continue on with my life and not really have to worry about the clique I was in (or wasn't in) in high school. I knew that it would all end someday and when that happened it wouldn't matter if I was a goth or a cheerleader. It wouldn't matter what I did every weekend. All that I take with me from high school is a love of geometry, a love of Shakespeare and good memories of volleyball games and chips and ranch at my friend's house while watching silly Austin Powers movies. It was just. . .nothing!

There's nothing to get all worked up about, no reason to lament and sob about what was not. It's done. It was high school and it's over now. It was just a little snow in April.
(The view from my balcony today.)

Peanut Butter Cup

Ahh Leatherby's. You are so delicious and so evil at the same time. Why do you make your Peanut Butter sauce so delicious? And why do you make your fries so soft and crispy at the same time? Why is your awesome ice cream so addictive? I curse the day I met you, Leatherby's. Or should I say LEATHERFACE'S?

Well, Bahama reunions, however small, are always fun. It was only the BAA of the group, but we still had a good time.

I have no pictures of the event. I got some from Amy, but for some reason they won't upload on my computer. Boo, Blogspot, BOO ON YOU. I did bring my own camera, but my child put her sticky ice cream fingers on my lens and I couldn't clean it fast enough to get cute kid shots of my own. Oh well. Not like you care. I'll let you know they were cute. And I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but my child is the most exotic looking of the whole bunch. Her father must be a G.I.


Oh, I'll make it a tradition. . . .TWICE. Don't you worry your little Leatherface's head about that.

Just like Mom used to make

I have a new cooking secret. Want to know what it is? Well, I'll tell you: I just think about what my mother in law would make.

I know that my husband and his mother don't have the typical "mama's boy" past. Their past is slightly checkered and dark at parts. At one point when he was just 8 years old, he went to live with another family for 2 years because he just couldn't be in his house anymore. But my husband is a great example to me of love and forgiveness. He loves his mother unconditionally and can see the good in her. And she is a great woman. She really is very strong and wonderful. And even though she scares the crap out of me and annoys me when I'm down there, the truth is that I very intimidated by her. And I fear that I will never be as great or as strong as she is. And so maybe some of my fear gets switched to annoyance. Just maybe. . . hmmm. Something else to work out at therapy at a later date. When I start going to therapy, maybe?

However, one of those things that we both love about her? Well, she is an AMAZING cook.

When I was in Ecuador about a year ago, I was not happy. But now that I'm home I'm even less happy because I didn't take advantage of the time I had to learn from her and take notes on different foods. I was more concerned with feeding my baby and the liquid poo that always seemed to be pouring from her diaper. And so at mealtimes, I just sat down and had a bowl of something placed in front of me. (Just so you know, everyone got a bowl placed in front of them. It would've been more strange if I were in the kitchen helping. Her kitchen is HER domain. None shall pass)

But I feel really inferior when it comes to cooking for Marcelo. But ONLY for Marcelo. Like if I had an American husband he would most likely enjoy casseroles and other similar American fare. Mashed potatoes and green salad. But he just doesn't like that. And while he has been trained VERY well to always eat what I make, I can tell that he doesn't like certain things. And so I never make them again. Also, I like to know when Marcelo is coming home because most of my meals are best served fresh from the oven. So if I miss the time, either he has to wait for dinner, or get it cold and not as good. So little by little my bank of recipes has been whittled down to almost nothing.

And then inspiration struck. It happened while Marcelo and I were watching an episode of "No Reservations" on the Travel Channel. Anthony Bourdain was in, (of course) ECUADOR!!! We really enjoyed watching him eating chifles and intestine and seafood and aji. (UMMMM AJI!!! I seriously just salivated typing that. How I miss you, aji) Then Tony said something that struck me he said, "oh, I love anything that's been simmering in a pot all day. Those are the best kinds of meals."

And I realized, that's what Ecuadorian cooking is! It's a lot of "one pot" style soups and sauces. Things that you can cook for 4o minutes or 1 1/2 hours depending on when people arrive home. You don't have to worry about when they will come home exactly, because it will be simmering away when they get there. It just gets better the longer it sits in the pot! You can add the tough cuts of meat with the bone still in there, and it all just dissolves beautifully. (I tried this with a big cross cut of cow leg and Marcelo was in heaven when the marrow was still in the bone and he got to suck it out. Seriously, he was so happy) It's stress free cooking, and I was stressing out about it!! This needed to change.

So now I just try to remember all the meals my mother served us.This is how my thought process works: "Ok, dinner ready around 7:30. What would be good in a pot. Chicken? Yes. What else? Carrots? Sure! Peas? Ok, at the end. . .What would my mother in law put in there? A potato, of course. Maybe a yucca if I have one. . .hmmm. . ." And so it goes.

Meal times around here have gotten much MUCH better and much less stressful. And while I will never EVER compare with the cooking skills of my mother in law, I have stopped worrying about it. We both have our talents and there is no comparison on either end. I mean, I'd like to see her whip up cinnamon rolls (WITH the cream cheese frosting included, of course) in less than an hour like I can.

Game. set and MATCH.

. . . Can You?

So after nearly 3 months of speech therapy I can tell you that she's had almost no difference in her speech. Oh, I know what you think when you look at those videos. And that's pretty much how it goes around here. Babbling non-stop her nonsensical words and wildly gesticulating. And yet, no words.

I mean, we are talking basic things like "yes" and "milk". I think I read somewhere that by 2 years your kid should speak like 100 words. I have heard her say 2. They are "no" and "esta". But she's great at recognizing words. She knows around 20 animals and can point to them. She knows colors and shapes. And she knows hundreds of commands. I would say that when it comes to recognizing and responding, she can recognize over 200 words and phrases. But what good does that do me when she's hungry and she won't tell me but instead whines non stop? I mean, I can ask her if she's hungry, and she makes a "uh huh" sound (again, she doesn't say "SI" but just makes a sound) but that's not what we are going for! We want words here!!

Sunday I asked her nursery teachers about her language. We are very blessed that one of her nursery teachers got back from a mission to Argentina less than a year ago and loves speaking Spanish to her. And so I asked him if they notice that she speaks when not around me. They said that she just babbles and babbles but nothing recognizable comes out. They said that last week she went and sat down next to Elissa (a little girl about 1 year older than her) and just blabbed and blabbed for minutes. After she left, the teachers asked Elissa what Bibi said to her. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I don't know". Nice

But the real kicker is what happened a few weeks ago at the park. A little boy was playing with her and she was running around and just generally not talking. And he said to her "I can talk. . . . Can you?" OHHHH!!! BUURRRNNN!!!!

No, junior. The answer is no. She cannot talk. But if you want someone to show you how to destroy the house while your mom is in the shower, she's your girl

Butter

Today before Marcelo left for school he said, "what is the baby eating"? And I said, "butter". And he jumped up shocked and ran to where she was eating on the counter. As he was running I further clarified, "well, she's eating a piece of bread with butter, but she picks all of the butter off and just eats it plain."

Here is some video attesting to that fact. While I was in the shower, she got into the freezer and found the butter that I keep frozen there. And here is what I found when I got out:



Seriously, if I let this kid eat nothing but dairy all day, she would be in heaven. Cottage cheese, ice cream, yogurt, milk, cream cheese, string cheese, or just plain cheese from the bag. Actually, I buy cheese in bulk and use my food processor to shred it and then I freeze it. And again, while I was taking a shower she got in the freezer and was eating the frozen cheese straight from the bag. That wasn't a problem. I mean how much cheese can a 2 year old eat in 7 minutes?















That is a picture of here enjoying the frozen cheese, and then she's telling me to "back off" so she can eat more. And, if she has an accomplice in the form of a constantly ravenous dog, well, then this is the kind of damage she can do: That whole bag was emptied in 8 minutes. Disgusting.

More food related news: Here is what happened when I was vacuuming the other day.

















She found this little bag of flour and seasonings (some dredging flour) in the freezer. Are you seeing a pattern here? I think we need a freezer lock.

Some cute pictures of a baby in a crock pot? Why yes, I have those too!
















(She's eating cold, day old rice right from the pan. She loves that!)

And finally, my last "food related" presentation is what happens when you decide to make pooping "me time". I still maintain that I should get to poop in peace, but it's difficult to rationalize that when I come out and find scenes like this.



Happy eating!

Here's some extra credit: If your child goes silent for a while, you can assume she has found a tube of chap stick and is trying to eat it slash apply it.















And if it's cherry chap stick it counts as a fruit in your daily food pyramid.


Delicious!

More Overt Racism

Have you seen Disney's Peter Pan in a while. OH MY GOODNESS!! You will be shocked at the "Injun" portion of the movie.

The phrase "Me smokem' peace pipe" is used. Also "Hoow" and "squaw" and calling Native Americans "The Red Man". How has the ACLU not banned this movie yet? It's good racist times.

On a similar note, Lady and the Tramp has those Italian guys that are also quite stereotypical. But for some reason, they make me laugh. Super Mario accent? Funny. Why is that? Maybe it's because of Tina Fey. "I want-a make-a the prank-a phone call"

Anyway. I'm going to try to teach my kids not to be racist. Well, I'm going to tell them not to "war whoop" in the presence of people.

Or ever, really.

A Real Conversation With My Dear Husband-Session #3

Scene: Our house kitchen, Saturday night. No food prepared, Marcelo hungry

Me: Do you want me to make something? It might take a while, but I can have something ready in about 30 minutes.

Marcelo: Hmmm, thirty minutes? (I can hear in his voice that he is hungry now)

Me: Well, I have fresh rice and salsa. You can have that if you want.

Marcelo: (silence) What?

Me: Rice and salsa. You know like we have when I prepare with meat on the side. Except I don't have any meat.

Marcelo: Just rice and salsa? WHAT?

Me: I LIKE IT!! And it's the best part of the meal anyway. You sure you don't want it?

Marcelo: (Silence, meanwhile looks at me like I am crazy) . . . .Uhhh, no.

AND SCENE

You should know, my salsa is hommade and very much like a "pico de gallo" you will find at other restaurants. But it has no jalapenos, and hence no heat at all. 4 simple ingredients: Cilantro, tomatoes, onion and limes. Oh and salt. But it's how you PREPARE it. Lots of lime. Let the lime soak into the onions after you wash them and scrunch them up. IT'S A PROCESS, I TELL YA!!! It's basically a lime soaked infusion that will make you happy. If you like lime, which we do around here.

And I love it on top of rice. Especially hot rice. The hot rice and cold salsita? SO GOOD. Something like pie ala mode. Hot pie and cold ice cream. So, just, yum. If you are lucky I'll make it for you someday. If not you just have to dream about it from my writings here.

Happy eating!