Happy Birthday Peanut!

and ¡Feliz Cumpleaños! too

Wherever does the time go...
Love you Peanut.

Rosalba

Probably you figured out that this is not a real tiger.

We have talked about our trips to the zoo in the past, but this is not so much about the zoo as it is the people with us at the zoo. The photo above is missing Rosalba, who is the link between us, but don't worry, there is a picture of her below.

About a year and a half ago we entered into what is possibly a most typical missionary dilemmas - do you hire someone to help you around the house? We do not have a big apartment, and for a year and a half we managed just fine. Okay, let's be honest - Richard managed just fine as he cleaned and I read him books (best.arrangement.ever). After Nora was born, however, we were feeling a little overwhelmed. We weren't sure what we were doing (and we had not yet acclimated to that perpetual reality), we were dead-dog tired, and we weren't feeling up to the challenge of the daily January dirt dusting that comes with the blessed breezes of the North Coast. In talking through things with someone from the church, she suggested Rosalba just come by and give us a hand one day.

I have never seen a person clean so thoroughly as Rosalba did that day. I have heard tell of people moving furniture to clean before, but I have not really had them take every item out of my kitchen cabinets, wipe down each item along with all the shelves, and replace everything (resulting in fun hide and seek games once she left, but whatever). Perhaps even this seems normal to you, but may I just show you one picture which further underscores my point? That cow (which is our water filter) had spots before Rosalba came. I am not kidding you. Richard painted spots on that cow with what we considered to be permanent marker. That was evidently inaccurate. When she left that day (approximately 10 hours later...) we marveled at how clean our home could be. We relaxed. We walked around barefoot. We went to bed early. We were hooked.

Rosalba

Rosalba usually comes once every 2-3 weeks (or just before our parents come to visit) to get the deep down clean that our (Richard's) sweep and mop doesn't quite cover. Over time we have gotten to be friends. I am finally not just "Señora" with a name too hard to remember. I have heard about her life and she has lived some of mine as she has watched Peanut grow up from 4 months on. I think the first real break was when we invited Rosalba and her two youngest daughters to the Nutter's birthday, getting that same invitation in return to her grandson's first birthday this past February. Every time she comes I make us all breakfast and for lunch she either tries out "an adventure" (read: what we usually eat at home), or I go buy something for us at the corner store that is more immediately recognizable.  Each of her kids has come to our house with her and played with Peanut, to her everlasting delight. We are grateful for their presence in our life.

And yet...because isn't there always an "and yet" to a dilemma?

And yet, Rosalba works for us. Can't get around that. She does not come clean out of the goodness of her heart (why would you do that?), and, apart from the meals we fix, we do not help her out while she is sweeping, wiping, mopping, etc. We have the luxury of paying her to come do what she also has to do at her own house because...well, it is her house. We live fairly simply, yet with a "home computer" and a "work/travel computer" while her kids (she notes) don't even know how to turn one on. We pay her better than she expects to be paid, but again, we can. We took she and her family out to the zoo just to have fun, because we can. 

I am not putting the dilemma forward very clearly I don't think, but it revolves around whether, if you can, you choose to ask someone else to come in and do work that you could do, or not. If not, we would have never met Rosalba or her wonderful kids. Peanut would have a smaller world, whether she knew it or not. And sure, Rosalba and her family would not have the still meager income we provide her twice a month. But because we do are in each other's lives doesn't mean we can pretend that making breakfast or a birthday invitation puts us on equal footing in the world or that other choices we make (or don't) serve to maintain or even widen the gap between us. 

And yet...we will still treasure our trip to the zoo

We are ostriches, can't you tell?

Go Ahead, Give Me Your Best Caption

Fun with Numbers

Nothing to do with numbers

We are in the great wide world of counting now. Peanut can recognize a few numbers  - 1, 2, and 8. (Please do not imagine that I can explain why those three.) Every once in a while she will blurt out one of the numbers that she knows, and you better look sharp to see where it came from because it is likely not a random vocabulary spurt but rather on the window of your taxi, part of the design on your Dickey's barbecue cup, or part of the scripture reference on your fabulous living room art. These numbers, my friends, are everywhere.

So in a double homage to numbers and the Nutter, I give you the following completely randomly numbered list:

4. I get a kick out of the imaginative number sequences as we go down the stairs, or poke on the computer. Linear is just so...tired. Who doesn't need a little 2,3,4,2,5,2! in their lives? And even better if it is in Spanglish so it can come out dos, tres, cuatro, dos, five, two! 

9. Then there is the fact that 5, in Spanish at least, is now intimately tied to a particular song in which a clown finds he is allergic to his nose paint after CIN-CO MI-NU-TOS, thus requiring that every time the number 5 is said a bellowing CIN-CO MI-NU-TOS comes from the (you guessed it) Peanut gallery.

2. It is likely that when YOU count, you begin with one. Peanut, on the other hand, mostly begins with two. I don't know if it is because I usually get us started, thus clearly reserving the number one to me, or what, but it is very funny to hear a vehement "2,3,4!" before the little one throws herself down the slide.

5. MI-NU-TOS

Welcome to our world.

Deep in the Heart of Texas

In May we took a brief trip to Texas to see Richard's family. It was a great escape from the heat (can you believe it?), and we had a wonderful time. Between time in Dallas, at the house in Pampa, and on the ranch, we felt good and family-filled. Below is the book we made on Shutterfly to commemorate our experience. I was so proud of it I just wanted to share (no other compensation beyond joy and pride). 

Note: There are not so many pages as it seems when the book is loading, but you do have to have a little patience, and once it does load you will see extra Shutterfly logo-ing, etc. That is what you get when you take an embed code from a commercial website I do believe...but whatcha gonna do?

 Click here to view this photo book larger

 (and you are totally going to want to see it larger...)

Job Options

Richard and I are trying to figure out what in the heck we are going to do with ourselves in 2013, but this post is not about that. This post is about (one of) the things Richard and I do in order to avoid dealing with what we are going to do with ourselves in 2013: imagining future occupations for one Nut-Bar.

1. Stylist

She needs to work on her technique, but you have to start somewhere.

 2. Gymnast

This only shows her floor moves, but she totally rocks on balance beam/curb walking

3. Artist (or treacherous dictator, it is a toss-up...especially some days)

 

Who says you can't be an artist and a gymnast?

 4. Executive








 5. Criminal (once again, not necessarily mutually exclusive with number 4...)

6. Fortune Teller (sometimes known as "Pastor")

  7. Movie Star 

8. Food Critic/Taste Tester

Again, with undertones of dictator...

9. Heartbreaker

Or member of a Go-Gos Revival Band

Favorite Almost Words

We have had a lot of conversations in our house about how to deal with language. We have chosen to go the each one speak one route with Richard speaking to Peanut in English (mostly...) and me speaking to her in Spanish (mostly...). Because the rest of the world here talks to her in Spanish, it is definitely her default option, but she understands a lot of English and pulls out things sometimes that just surprises the heck out of both of us. There is a lot more to be said about language issues, but for now we will stick with a quick list of my favorite Peanut almost words. Or better said, the words Peanut uses to stand in for the words she means until she can get her mouth adjusted a little bit more.

1. Bi-bo (or possibly Bee-beaux, I have never asked) - this comes from Spanish "ombligo" or belly button. When Peanut first discovered her bi-bo she would lift up her shirt every couple of minutes to look at it - perhaps checking to see if it was still there. Then she discovered that other people had bi-bos too, and...well, just keep your shirt tucked in when you visit. I must admit that I love this word so much that I have almost stopped saying ombligo just so it will stick around. Quite frankly I could be happy if we called it bi-bo for the rest of our lives, and even if Peanut does not, I just might. Damn the language stickler gods!

2. Balita - this comes from Spanish "abuelita" or grandmother. It is the name for my mom, and while she could not say it at all for a while, now Peanut yells it out with gusto. In fact, I should probably have spelled it Ba-LEEE-Tah! Mom tried really hard for a while to be "Lita", but as with most facing down Peanut's astounding ability to say one's name over and over and over and over again, she gave in. Balita it is.

3. Cacago - this is meant to be Chicago. Marylen gave her a book called "Good Night Chicago" (part of her PR campaigning), and Peanut loves it. I like the book having lived in Chicago, but it did not strike me as a particularly easy book to identify with otherwise, and yet Peanut asks for it regularly. She even noted that the little girl outside the water tower was also reading "Cacago." Color me impressed.

This is another Cacago book from Marylen (campaigning...).  Peanut opened up to this page and said "PIZZA!" It doesn't take long.

4. Bubby-bee - Bumblebee, obviously. This stemmed from the song "I'm Bringing Home a Baby Bumblebee" which Balita taught her, but it now goes with eating ware provided by Marylen too. Wait, maybe this post should have been about stuff Marylen gave me...

I think there are actually a lot more that belong on this list, but they have become so "normal" that I don't even realize they aren't right anymore. Boy communicating in the US this fall is going to be fun... ;)

¡Feliz Día Papi!

To our ready, sure, and steady in the midst of the wackadoo of life.

To the one who will hold us tight, but always go on our adventures.

 To a silly spirit

 

























 

To the one who has our back, whether we realize it or not.

To our quiet but constant cheerleader.

Kick back and relax Papi...

 

It's your special day!

We love you!

Hanging Out

Please don't call child services.

No really.

 I'm right there.

I swear. 

 Laughing my *** off...

Cooking with Fanny

I think Peanut would watch Cooking with Fanny all day long if it were a television show. Of course, she might be banging on the screen and screaming, "Fanny! Fanny!" the whole time as she tried to jump through the screen to get to the hostess, but some days I might be able to live with that if it let me get the dishes done. I digress...

Peanut loves to help cook, and she loves Fanny, so this is a total win-win. I get nervous only occasionally as Fanny has the confidence to use remarkably large knives around my daughter, but by and large the language acquisition skills and the sheer thrill of sorting vegetables overrides my anxiety. 

What's that? An onion, or part of my finger! (Just kidding people)

Taste testing is a bonus.

 

Really, could you get a happier face? 

 

And, just in case you thought I was exaggerating about the knife...

  Yup sister, I thought the same thing.

Animal Dreams

This is totally not Peanut.

Peanut seems to have a love/hate relationship with animals. Perhaps it is better deemed an attraction/profound uncertainty relationship (though that isn't quite as snappy and probably would not fit on this kid's knuckles). She seems to hear every animal in our neighborhood (of which the variety is greater than you might imagine...), and imitates them with great gusto. While in the kitchen I may hear a high-pitched "Guau! Guau!" (Spanish for Bow-wow or Ruff-ruff, or whatever the kids these days are saying). Later while we are eating comes the "Ki-ki-ri-kiiii" of the rooster next door. Birds offer the widest range of possible noises, and don't get me started on cat fights. Whenever she actually sees the animals in question she always puts out her hand to beckon them and says "Ven! Ven!" (Come here!), but if they actually do come...well, then she is not sure what to do.

Part of the problem is that her mom is not sure what to do either. I am not completely trusting of pets in the States either, but here they are less often people-oriented. Toddlers are also a perpetual challenge because you never know when that cat tail is going to look like a good pull toy, resulting in a well-deserved cat-smack that sends your animal dreams into nightmares. Luna, the dog across the street, is a good bet for a quick petting fix, but even when she comes running up to Peanut I usually have to brace myself against a wall to not get knocked over as my daughter runs headlong into my knees.

Still, the idea of animals captivates the Nutter, so we take occasional trips to the zoo, and one day went so far as to a farm with a petting zoo outside of town. There she touched a few of the animals...

 

was content to look at some of the others (while mom obviously wants to have a full on conversation with them),

It was big, but as we did not size all the other animals, I think we were going for "Pig"...

 and very willing to jump up and ride others (okay, if they were made out of rock).

Because the zoo is one of the only things to actually do in town that does not involve shopping or just randomly riding the bus, we go there fairly often. She now announces several of the animals before we get to them, and makes sure to tell them all "Chao" before we leave them. She is totally cool with her friends when they are behind glass, 

or wrapped up in someone's arms,

and evidently even when her mom let's her hang on the fence to see the anteaters before seeing the, "Please keep your kids off the fence" sign that is prominently located immediately to the right of her daughter's dangling legs.

Oops.

But get an animal that joins her on the other side of the fence, and she turns into a monkey that climbs up your legs and makes funny sounds in that hopes they will help her get off the ground faster. I am not sure what to do really, except try to make her feel as comfortable as I can and keep all animals in reach as safe as possible. So if we come to your house this fall, then let us make a deal now: you warn your beloved cat/dog/fish/lizard/wewillnotstayatyourhouseifyouhaveasnakesodon'tworryaboutit, and I will warn Peanut. We will all see what happens from there.

Their Fault

I mean seriously, I haven't written since MARCH? Good Lord. Peanut could be fifteen by now, and you all would not even know it.

Okay, perhaps you would know if she were suddenly fifteen. I probably would have found time to write about that. I pointed out on our other poor, ignored, sad little blog that we were not celebrating May in Colombia this year, but that still leaves April unaccounted for here. I blame it on Matt and Emily.

The truth is, they came down to Colombia to visit (sans the Satch-meister, sadly) and they infected us with their devil-may-care attitudes and their general zest for life and their departure left us depressed and bereft. Come to think of it, perhaps it was they who took away May here too...this is all starting to come together now that I am back into the swing of things... I mean really, just look at these sinister faces. Yeah, you see what I mean.

Before they arrived, we had talked a lot about Matt and Emily coming, so when we went to the airport in Cartagena to pick them up she kept looking through the window as if she would pick them right out. Since 8 months had passed, almost doubling her actual age when she saw them last, we thought we should stay vigilant as well. Plus, you never know what Matt will look like at any given time. (Tell me I'm wrong.) Though she was quiet an observing at first (as is her way), it was not long before Peanut woke up asking for "At" and "Emi" as soon as I walked in her room. (Okay, full honesty, it was mostly for Emi. That must be tempered, however, with the fact that "Emi" seemed to apply to either Matt or Emily.)

We started in Cartagena with carriage rides, cold drinks, walks through the old city and the fort with a great city view and stayed in a hotel with a pool on the roof and a double-decker bedroom with great peek-a-boo stairs. We got to open presents that included new clothes and shoes from Satchel, a puzzle, and fine imported food stuffs like JIF peanut butter and rice cakes (we ask for only the best). In Barranquilla we visited the (well air-conditioned) Caribbean Museum, ate the required Crepes and Waffles meals, and headed out to the beach - as well as dancing it up a bit with the neighbors and taking our afternoon park walks. 

We don't know if At and Emi had all the vacation they might have wanted, but we had the visit we desperately needed. Thanks y'all. Except for that ruining our blogging part. That was not cool.