Emotional Women

Several years ago it worked out that my four sisters and I (and possibly even my mom) were all seeing the same Ob/Gyn. He is a very nice man and a good doctor. He is very nonchalant, and that makes those "special" visits a little easier, sometimes. Other times, his nonchalance could be upsetting. Several of the women in our family suffer from varying degrees of depression and anxiety (some stemming from thyroid disease, others from who knows what). One afternoon my younger sister was in his office trying to talk to him about some very difficult times she was having, feeling quite depressed. He sighed and said in his somewhat monotone voice, "Well, you do come from a long line of emotional women."

We have always laughed at that. But it is true. And the line just keeps getting longer.

Let me present Exhibits A, B, and C. All three photos were taken within a period of two minutes.

Exhibit A:
Deedle is told that it is not her turn to get the water for the dog.

Exhibit B:
Deedle demonstrates the injustice of making her wear an older swimsuit to her lessons (the others were not dry). Her problem was, as she described, that the straps just, "start to giggle- giggle down like this." Nobody wants swimsuits with straps that "giggle" down like that, do they? I wondered as I tried to stifle my own.

Exhibit C:
Deedle discovers that if she puts on some thick sports socks then her feet feel very nice in her pink glitter shoes. And mom says, fine, wear pink glitter shoes with socks to swim lessons.

Whew, heaven help me when my daughters hit their teen years!

Blackmail Photos

While looking for older photos of Loumy and String Cheese to include in the last post, I ran across these photos. Loumy was about 20 months old. He had a real obsession with hats, shoes, and balls. He still does, but not as much as he did during that time. For his third birthday he had only one request, "CLEATS".

Normally I would dress him myself, but apparently I hadn't dressed him after the last diaper change. In fact, if I recall correctly, I think I had just gone out to throw a stinker in the garbage in the garage and came back in to find that Loumy had gone ahead and dressed himself in the nearest "hat" (one of my bandanas that I had just tossed someplace) and "shoes" that he could find for playing soccer (with my pink and purple ball).

A Special Connection

Here is a picture of String Cheese holding Loumy just minutes after we walked in the door, bringing him home from Haiti.

Recently I have been thinking a lot about siblings that come together in special ways and the cool connections that they can have. My friend, Lori, is adopting from Haiti. She recently went with her husband to visit the little boy they were planning to adopt. Before they left, they decided that there was another child that was meant to be in their family. Their three-year-old son was the one to first make this evident to them (then, I'm sure, they did a lot of praying on their own to have it confirmed to them). Read the super cool story of Malot and Jessica here.

Today I walked out of my bedroom and found String Cheese had dressed her baby brother, Loumy, in his pjs and was reading him a "bedtime" story (although it was early afternoon) while Deedle was still napping I felt grateful for the special bond that those two share. SC has always been a very good big sister to Loumy. There seems to be none of the rivalry that often exists between her and Deedle or Deedle and Loumy. Although she does get frustrated at times, mostly there is just a really super sweet love between SC and Lou. Thinking about Malot and Jessica and seeing this tender little scene in the living room reminded me of the connection that my two children shared before Loumy ever joined our family. And, for this post, I will go ahead and use their real names the rest of the story. Some of you have heard the stories before, but I felt like recording them here:

This was recorded in my journal shortly after my son, Isaiah, passed away in Haiti in Nov of 2004:

"The night I found out about Isaiah’s death I felt that we had probably gone through what we needed and I didn’t picture being able to go forward with another adoption. Grace constantly asked when her baby “brudder” Isaiah was coming home from Haiti. She speaks so well for not even being 3 yet and seems to understand things well. The morning after we learned of Isaiah’s death, Grace saw his picture on the table and asked about him. I said, with tears in my eyes, “Gracie, Isaiah isn’t going to come home from Haiti. He died. That means he lives with Heavenly Father and Jesus now.” Grace became very upset. She said, “No! Go get my baby brudder! I want baby Isaiah to come home from Haiti!” I was surprised at how upset she was. It only made me cry more so I said, “It’s okay, honey. He is really happy with Jesus now.” Grace was still mad, then something came over her and she just turned and walked away.

A few minutes later Jason walked out of the bathroom, having just shaved for work.
“Did you tell Grace Isaiah died?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Did you tell her we were adopting another baby?” he asked.

“No.”

“Well she just came in the bathroom and said, ‘Daddy, baby Isaiah died. He lives with Jesus. Now we need to go get my other baby brudder.’ I told her again that we couldn’t get her baby brother because he lived in Heaven. Grace said, ‘No, Dad, we have to go get my OTHER baby brother. My baby brother Andre.”

Since then we have felt strongly that we will adopt another son and that it will be very good for him to know that he has a brother who is in Heaven that was also born in Haiti. Maybe he will feel a special connection to Isaiah. And it feels as though we are to name him Andre even though we already have an Andre in the family. "

In this photo, Grace starts sharing secrets with Andre just minutes after his arrival home.

When I found out what the name, "Andre" meant, I felt that Grace had been very inspired. Isaiah means, "The Lord is My Salvation". That was very cool to me because I have come to know that through the Plan of Happiness and the Atonement of my Savior, little children that die before they become accountable for their actions are saved. Isaiah has already received salvation through the Lord. The name "Andre" means "strong". That was a big comfort to me. Whenever I would receive a call from the orphanage coordinator, I would immediately become frightened that something had happened to Andre. The fact that Grace knew what his name was to be and that his name meant, "strong" gave me comfort and helped me have faith that he would remain "strong" in mind and body until I could get him out of Haiti and take care of him myself.

Another incident happened just after I got home from visiting Andre for the first time in December of 2004. It was extremely difficult to leave my tiny new son in a crammed orphanage that did the best that they could but did NOT have enough hands. This is what I wrote about after coming home:

The next morning I put the girls in the double-stroller to

go out for a jog. I bundled us all up but it was extremely cold. It was just gray. And it

was silent. The gray and quiet was nice as I jogged along. Then Grace said,

“Mom. What is that crying?” I stopped the stroller and listened. We were down on

the river trail now and all I could hear was the soft rolling of the water.

“What is that crying?” Grace asked again. I said, “I don’t

hear anything, sweetheart.” “Yes,” said Grace. “There is a baby crying. It’s baby Andre.”

I literally crumpled to the ground and sat by the stroller weeping. I sat that way for

quite some time on the cold pavement—looking at my two little toe-heads with their big

blue eyes peering out from bundles of blankets and snowsuits and thinking about

my dark-skinned son 1000s of miles away in an orphanage with out the love

and attention of a mother. Most likely he was crying.

In this photo, Grace and Loumy spend some time getting reacquainted on his first full day home.

Anyway, these stories have always been special to me because I know that sometimes little children are so much more open to the Spirit because they are so pure. I have always loved that these two have such a special connection and hope that it will always be that way for them. Maybe that is why I needed to record this here. Grace and Andre, if you are much older now and are reading this on your own one day, I hope that your Spirit will be touched and you will remember how much you love and care for each other. Always be good to each other. Always be examples. You loved each other before this life. Help each other through this life so that you can make it back to your home, as you promised each other you would do before you came to this Earth. And I will try to help, too!

What Is Wrong With Me?

I need to finish preparing my Relief Society lesson to be given in 10 hours but I really want to post about how happy I am that Amir Sadollah won the Ultimate Fighter finale tonight. CB Dolloway is so arrogant, and Amir is just so cool and down to Earth and funny and cute. And what is wrong with me that I like to watch Ultimate Fighting and know all about the UFC? My dad and I used to occasionally rent these fights on VHS back in the day. It has changed a lot since then. And as I sit on the couch, completely tense and biting my nails as two guys smash eachothers' faces in, I wonder, what is it that keeps me glued here? why am I watching? I don't know. We all have our vices. This is mine (yes, the ONLY one, so don't even start).

Way to go Amir!!!

Home Improvement Part 2

So, I gave it my best effort. Here are some before and after pictures. Maybe when I put the furniture back in and make some kind of curtains and new pillows and find a rug to match then I will post that.
These are the front room BEFORE:
Please note, these photos were also taken BEFORE this:
Side note: How can you not love that face? Deedle always talks to this 160 pound beast as if she were a baby, saying, "you so cute, you cute little baby molly."

Regarding wainscoting: success! I really had no idea if I could do it and nobody told me if I could or couldn't because I just looked at photos in magazines and decided to do it. I was surprised that I could actually make the squares come together nicely.

Regarding wood floors: semi-success. The plan was for me to put down 600 square feet, including the living room, a hallway, and a large family room. I did a lot of the living room myself. Then I started to cry. Then Chancho said he would take the day off on Monday to help me finish it. Then we finished it but he got super cranky and said he hated it and we both hurt ourselves and got lots of splinters. Then we called a guy in our ward who lays flooring for a living and asked if we could hire him to do the rest and he said yes and for a very good price. So, the front room is done and the rest of the floor will be put in some time in the next month.

Front room during the process:
Things that I used in the past week that I had never used or never heard of before: a floor stapler, a brad-nailer gun, a level, a rubber mallet, a table saw, a chop saw, a floor saw, a pry bar, air compressor and hose, liquid nail, and a chalk liner.

Front room AFTER:
What I have learned from this experience is that I like to do things with my hands and feel a great amount of satisfaction in seeing what I have created. I also gain confidence in myself when I realize that I can create something that I like with out having to buy it or pay an expert to do it. I also learned that Chancho would rather put in over-time at his current job than ever, ever, EVER try to put in a hardwood floor again.

You Could Change Your Mind

The kids have started another round of swimming lessons and are progressing very well. Deedle is as feisty as ever and has possibly made a little less progress than the other two. Today they were practicing somersaults (the idea is that it is important to learn how to get your head down so that you can learn to dive and all that). Loumy started doing somersaults the first time he got in the pool, but Deedsy wasn't so sure of the idea. Her teacher was holding her and the conversation went like this:
D: I can't do one.
Teacher: Sure you can! Can you do one on the ground?
D: Yeah. I can do lots. I do tumbling.
T: It's just like that but in the water.
D: Yeah, but I can't.
T: Sure you can! Let's try!
D: No.
T: Come on, you can do it.
D: No.
T: Why?
D: I'm scared. Duh! But I'll float on my back again.

Deedle is very proud that she can float on her back. Tonight at dinner she had this conversation with Chancho:
D: Dad, you should come to our swimming lessons.
C: I wish I could.
D: You can! (As if just granting him permission)
C: Well, the problem is that I have to be at work down in (the city that is south of us) during the time of your lesson.
D: You could just change you mind.
C: What do you mean?
D: You could change your mind about wanting to go to work and you could decide to come watch us instead. (She seemed delighted at how she had figured out this quandary).

Ah...if only life were as simple as it is to little Deedle. Luckily her Dad promised to go swimming with her on a Saturday so that he can see that she has learned to float on her back.

How To Boil An Egg

This is a supplement to the Plabby Salad post. But first, you must think of my father, two-years-old. They'd had baked potatoes for dinner one night and he thought they were absolutely splendid. The next morning he saw a couple of old ones on the counter and he wanted one. He kept trying to tell his mom or dad what he wanted but he couldn't remember the word, just kept pointing. In frustration he finally yelled, "PLABBIES!" And, from that day henceforth, the potato also became known as the "plabby".

Okay, I know you don't even want to try it, but Tia Juana, you little Loca, boiled eggs are great and sometime you just need a protein boost and there is nothing better than a boiled egg cut in half with a little salt and pepa.

Fill a pot with cold water. Put the eggs in. Put in some salt. Put the cold pot of water on the stove and turn it on high. I know it takes longer to boil but the eggs don't crack if you heat them up slowly instead of throwing them into boiling water. Once the water is boiling, turn it down to medium-high and wait for exactly 19 minutes. Take the pot over to the sink and pour out the hot water. Now fill the pot with cold water and keep it running for awhile. After two minutes take out the eggs and bounce them on your counter top, then put them back in the water. Now take them out of the water again and peel them. You will have a perfect egg. If you dare.

Perla's Plabby Salad

As requested, I will now share my Potato Salad Recipe that I invented a few years ago:

4 lbs. Potatoes (peeled, cubed, boiled, drained, set aside. Boil with a few Tb of sea salt if you like flavor as much as I do)
6 eggs (boiled, peeled, chopped into chunks and set aside)

In a separate bowl combine the following:
1 Cup Salad Dressing or Mayo
3 Tb. DILL relish (not SWEET--that is sick)
3 Tb. Mustard
1 tsp. Salt
1 tsp. Celery Seed
1/2 tsp. Pepper

In a large bowl combine the potatoes, eggs, and dressing mixture. Refrigerate and enjoy! Oh, by the way, if you think it looks too plain you can also add pimentos. Chancho likes that. You will have a splash of red from the few little peppers that are in the relish, but otherwise it might look a bit bland. But trust me, it's tasty.

Loumy 'Dos

I know I have blogged often about Loumy's hair. Sorry, but it is just too fun to not do new things with it and share them. Loumy has learned, like me, to not be defined by his hair. He has had several looks so far this summer.
It started with little braids/dreads:
Then I picked it out and tried to keep it in this cute 'fro for awhile but it was too hard to keep clean. Every night I would find sticks, dog hair, bird nests, hot wheels cars, etc. and it looked pretty gross. But this photos is fresh from a nice bath and picking out job.
Next came my attempt at cornrows. Only took six hours to do. Can you believe he sits through that? I really liked this look but Chancho said he looked like "Point Dexter".
This next style is what Loumy had been asking for since I let him have something similar the year before. The mohawk! Last year I was trimming his hair with the clippers and decided to cut it in a mohawk for fun before shaving off the rest. He glanced in the mirror and his eyes got all huge. "I want it like THAT!" he cried. So, I taught him to say, "I pity the fool that mess with me!" and let him have it for a few days. He has longed for that style again ever since. This one is special because I even flat ironed it. He thought it was super cool. But it was just a little too crazy to last long with me.
His current mohawk is much shorter but still cute and he is still happy with it. People tell him all the time, "Nice mohawk." I don't know if they really mean it is nice or that it is crazy, but Loumy likes it. It is summer. He is three. Why not have a mohawk?

P.S. Isn't he a beautiful child?

"Oh Wedding, Oh Wedding, How Could You?"

String Cheese is very creative and comes up with so many fun things for the other kids to do. Younger kids love to play with her because she is a very good director. Well, she is good with kids her age, too, but they don't like her telling them what to do quite as much. :) I am very grateful for this because I rarely have to worry about limiting TV time or anything. The kids are always busy playing, "Nickelodeon Cruise Ship", "Enchanted Fairy Land", "Medical Hospital", "Pre-school", "Gymnastics Class", "Beauty Parlor", etc. etc. When I was little I only remember two games: "house" and "boat" (the same as "house" but on two chairs that we had turned into a flotation device). Oh yeah, how could I forget, "hot lava"? And why is it that nobody teaches kids that there is a game called "hot lava"? They just know it. One day they are standing on a chair and it comes to them. "Hey," they will say, "I know! Let's pretend the floor is hot lava! Come on, everybody, let's play 'hot lava'!" Nobody has to suggest it. It is instinct, I think.

One of the most recent games SC invented is called "dance school/opera". String Cheese dresses Deedle in some kind of dance attire and then teaches her various "performances". Deedle is rarely allowed to make a sound, rather she must act out whatever opera SC is singing.

Yesterday we had a little cousin, Madeline, over to play. SC was thrilled to have two students. Luckily they allowed her to tell them what to do, how to act, what to say, what not to say, etc. etc. for several hours. I was painting in a nearby room and found their performances very entertaining. So, I came in with the camera and asked if they might perform for me. String Cheese quickly came up with a new "routine". I don't exactly understand the story line, but found it quite enjoyable.

Buy American

String Cheese has been awfully perturbed about something. Once she began reading, she loved to read everything. This is one of the first things she ever learned to read:
MADE IN CHINA

At first she thought it was really cool. "Mom!" she would exclaim, "This toy is from China, too!"

But yesterday I heard her mutter, "Utah is stupid."

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Because we don't make anything. China is WAY better. They make everything."

"Well, we make some thing, " I replied.

"Like what?"

"Hm...we grow really good corn and raspberries..."

"I mean like TOYS!" String Cheese shouted, somewhat annoyed.

So, with that in mind, I would like to show you a couple of really cool sites where people living here (okay, not Utah, but at least in the USA) are making really fun things. They are both my friends and both are very creative! I am trying to buy "local" and "handmade" more often.

Sarah makes really cool stuffed animals, all by hand! Check out this "unlucky rabbit" and "lucky rabbit foot key chain" combo.

Flaky-Friends

and

Like Jodi, where she makes cool things like this notebook. It is recycled from an old children's book and has the story in it but then also has blank pages for writing. I have a Hansel & Gretel one that I carry with me to make notes of decorating or home improvement ideas.
This Handmade Life

Home Improvement

We have a light cream colored carpet, including right UNDER OUR KITCHEN TABLE. We didn't put it in, it was here with the house. And I invested right away in a carpet shampooer and I vacuum SO much and shampoo SO much. We were getting by okay. For six years I raised kids with this cream carpet!

Then along came Molly. I love our Molly. I really do. But she is a huge, stinky dog and she does not like to be away from us or outside, ever. She has now dug a hole under the fence and escapes every time we put her in back. Last night we went to a soccer game and were going to be gone 4 hours. Chancho nailed all these boards all over the gate where she pushes out and filled the hole with rocks and said that there was no way she was getting out. But of course we came home and she was just nicely sitting on our lawn in the FRONT yard waiting for us to come home after she had been gallavanting about the neighborhood for hours. She looks so sweet and innocent, right?

The past couple of weeks, Molly pees on the carpet in front of the back door all of the time. On Sunday we came home from church and she had pooped twice! Chancho always blames it on us. It is our fault that we are feeding her wrong or not taking her out when she needs it or whatever. And I'm sure he's right. Ugh. I try not to do housework on Sunday but of course this required 2 hours of scrubbing, vacuuming, and shampooing carpets.
But it wasn't so bad because something great and terrible has happened.

The great part is that last week I convinced Chancho that we need wood floors on all of the carpet upstairs except the bedrooms. I found a fantastic deal on a beautiful Caribbean Walnut--very fitting for our part-Caribbean family. (But, you ask, is it fitting that I help contribute to the deforestation of that dear-to-my-heart region by putting in this wood floor. Hm...)

The terrible thing is that part of what convinced him was me telling him that I could install it all myself with only a little help from him. The guy who sold it to me (he is the owner and I had my new, long wig on and he seemed to fall in love with me and wanted me to have a good deal and then we found out that we had all these strange connections through family in Dallas) gave me a class on Saturday morning. It took 3.5 hours because I had so many questions and took copious notes. He kept saying things like, "If you want a smooth transition right here you may just need a piece of t-strip." And I was like, "I have no idea what you just said." So he would have to show me. He showed me how to use a chop saw and a table saw and a floor stapler and a brad nailer and looked at my floor plan drawing and made notes for me of where to start and what to do in certain places and now...well...I am going to install our floors myself...and I'm terrified! Just don't tell Chancho.

I don't know if this means that we are moving or staying but with the deal I got, it was really not that much more expensive than re-carpeting and I just really don't see us being able to sell our house in this market with our carpet looking like this. Wood floors actually add to the value of your home, whereas carpet and Pergo do not. So, hopefully this was a good decision. In the end, whether we sell now or sell in five years, or 20, I think this is a good choice. And it WILL look beautiful. I have to keep trying to convince myself that!

New Post?

I was just checking my blog to see if there was a new post, but, alas, there still is not. Why won't I post something? I am bored of no new post.