Wednesday, May 28, 2008

I Am Not My Hair


You will need to listen to this song while you look at these photos or it won't make as much sense. I want to dedicate this post to those of you who have supported me and loved me through so many difficult times. I am so grateful to have come to this "place" where I do not constantly feel that I have to measure myself against others.

Recently I wore a wig to Deedle's dance class and nobody recognized me. At first I thought it was strange, but then I decided that I liked it. I thought that maybe if I switch around more then people will realize that if they want to recognize me, they are going to have to do it by some other way than my hair or scarf or whatever it is that usually tags them off. Choose my big old booty or my nearly 6 foot height or my smile, but I no longer allow myself to be defined by my hair (or lack thereof). With this in mind, I am considering buying a blond wig. Everybody thinks that Nancy and I are twins anyway, and she looks gorgeous as a blond, so I may just try it for fun. Ya'll are just going to have to remember
that "I am not my hair" next time you are trying to track me down!Oh, and also, somebody asked if I had bruises on my head. The dark spots you see are typical of Alopecia Areata. These are actually spots of hair that have grown back but as they are not enough to actually cover a significant amount of my scalp (yet), I keep my head shaved smooth.
By the way, my sister Amy took these photos for a book that a lady with Alopecia is doing. I need to e-mail her my "story" now, so I better get to work on it.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Preschool Graduation

Well, it is the time of year that we all write about preschool graduation. Loumy and Deedle both "graduated" (Deedle for the 2nd of 3 times and Loumy for the 1st of 3 times) last Wednesday. I kind of wish it was just called the "end of year program" or something like that so that when they are actually "graduating" from preschool and ready to start kindergarten it will actually mean something. Oh well. It was still very cute and their teacher is wonderful. They looked so adorable in their caps and gowns.One of the coolest things was when the teacher asked her husband to start the music and he turned on some song that sounded like Aerosmith or something (I'm not sure) and just stood there happily, as if that were surely the song his wife was waiting for. After some unsuccessful hand gesturing, teacher emerged, red-faced, from the hall where she and the kids were waiting and switched to the next track, which was actually the traditional commencement song that you should be listening to at this time (turn on your volume, Nancy).

As each child received their diploma, they showed a picture they had drawn of what they want to be when they grow up. The answers were great and nicely varied (they had taken the kids in one by one so as to get an original answer). Some were very funny: "When Matthew grows up, he wants to be a lion." And others were a little too real: "When Payton grows up he wants to be the guy that brings the gas in the truck to the gas station."

You already know what my children want to be when they grow up. Speaking of...yesterday String Cheese was writing me a note and kept asking how to spell certain words. Suddenly Deedle asks, "Mom, when I grow up can you tell me how to spell 'no smoking'?"
Me: Sure. Why?
Deedsy: I want to write it on a sign to put on my candy store.
Me: Okay. But by the time you own your own candy story, you will probably be able to spell it with out me even telling you how.
D (unconvinced): But...I...really do NOT want people smoking in my store and getting it all gross and stinky.
Me: Okay. I promise. I will tell you how to spell "no smoking" whenever you are ready.
D: Thanks.

And that is the end of this post.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Five Things About Loumy

Jami tagged me on this, so I will proceed to share five things about Loumy:

1. He is very athletic. He loves to do anything sporty. He loves soccer, basketball, football, baseball, skateboarding, and, most recently swimming. His teacher calls him her "little fish". It has really come naturally to him. Perhaps its because he's from the Caribbean. The only problem he has is that he can't float on his back very well. His teacher said he is just too lean and heavy. He weighs the same as Deedle does, even though she's nearly a head taller than him. He has no chub, just lean. In this video you will see that he is a fearless little man and that he learns very quickly (especially when it comes to something physical to master).

2. He loves GIRLS. He has been a flirt since...forever. When he was only 10 months old I took him with me to Macy's. All of the make-up counter girls were "ooh-ing and aah-ing over him." He would just smile in my arms, then, he looked at them and blew a kiss. I had just barely taught him to do that when I was leaving to go someplace, but he instinctively knew that it would be appropriate to do to girls that are swooning. Two days ago he told me that he has a girlfriend. I didn't even think he knew what it meant to have a "girlfriend". So, I asked him who it was. He raised his eyebrows and slyly said, "Alyssa," as if he knew EXACTLY what it means to have a girlfriend! I asked him why and he replied because, "she is nice and she is cute." She is in his preschool class and, according to her mother, she has had a crush on him all year long and talks about him constantly. They are really good little buddies and get along really well. They sit by each other at school and play well together. Usually he goes for brunettes (ie. his Aunt Zhateal), but Alyssa is strawberry blonde. He is going to miss her (we won't be going to the same preschool next year). Today while driving in the car, I heard Deedle and String Cheese starting to argue about something. I quickly intervened, "We do NOT ever tell our sisters that they are fat. That is not nice." Loumy softly says, "Alyssa is not fat."
I do like Alyssa but I already had another girl in mind for him. Luckily after our girlfriend conversation, he suddenly smiled very broadly. I asked him why he was smiling and he said that he remembered, "I have TWO girlfriends! Alyssa and Marley!" Yeah. And don't you forget it! Here are a few photos of Alyssa and Loumy today at pre-school graduation (yet, how is it graduation if he has to do it two more times before he even gets to kindergarten?) as well as a photo of Loumy and Marley at a soccer game.3. He likes to dress himself. Because I was tired of picking up the 14 outfits each day that he would change into, we made a rule that he could only change if he asked permission first. Now, the first thing I hear when he wakes me at 7am is, "Mom, can I get dressed in my clothes now?"

4. He has an obsession with big brothers. Every day he asks about 20 times if he can be my big brother. I always say yes. But recently he talks about things that his "big brother" does. His big brother is named Isaiah and its a little creepy because he actually has a big brother, Isaiah, who died before we were able to bring him home from Haiti. I have no doubt that Loumy sees angels and I believe with total certainty that angels administered to him for the first nine months of his life while he lived in an orphanage in pretty appalling circumstances. But I'm not sure about this big brother business. Today when I came in to put him down for a nap I said, "Loumy?! How did this room get so messy? I just cleaned it last night and now there are toys and clothes everywhere!" Without missing a beat he said, "My big brother Isaiah did it."

5. He has a very tender heart. When I hear him crying, 9 times out of 10, its because somebody "hoit (hurt) my feelings". And that is not to say he doesn't get hurt physically with all of his crazy boy stunts (I saw him teetering on his skateboard at the top of the slide the other day, about ready to give it a try before I stopped him). He loves to give hugs and kisses and when I give him a kiss out-of-the-blue he always smiles and says, "thank you." If one of his sisters does a little dance or sings a song, he always compliments them. He is just very sensitive and sweet.

I like this little "tag" thing because it gave me a chance to focus on the positives. I have such fantastic kids and a wonderful husband. But if I don't watch out, it is easy to focus on behaviors that need changing. And then I always have to remind myself that what you are looking for is usually what you will find. So, when I try to think about all the great things about my family, I remember how blessed I am to have such incredible people in my life.

I will now tag a kid that I don't know very well and would like to read more about: Grayson!

Monday, May 19, 2008

It Actually Worked

Sitting at the computer this morning, I think I might like to just, you know, read a few e-mails and blogs and stuff. If you ever see the hour of my postings, you know that usually only occurs AFTER all is quiet in the house (about midnight).

So, I am reading and I hear a lot of crying coming from Loumy and, from his tone, I know he has been excluded from his sisters' play. Sure enough, when he stops crying enough for me to interpret his languishings, I discover that there was no place for him on the "Nickelodeon Cruise Ship" game the girls have just invented. As I listen to his complaints, I notice Loumy's fingernails. Gross.

"Hey, Loumy!" I say quietly to him and with a big smile. "Do NOT tell the girls. I have something really cool for just the two of us! Go up and find your secret, special nail clippers and quietly come back to me and I will trim your nails!"

He pauses and looks suspicious. But I persist.

"But you CANNOT tell the girls about this. You have to be very sneaky as you get the clippers. Go, now! Quickly! But quietly!"

And...it actually works! I look over at Chancho (at work on his own computer). He just shrugs and is as shocked as I am that Loumy fell for it.

Shortly thereafter, the girls are begging for some Gatorade because it is so "freaking hot" on their cruise ship. I use this as leverage to get Loumy in on the action.

"But there is nothing for him to 'be' on the cruise ship!" String Cheese protests.

"What do you mean?" I cry. "Don't you know anything about the Pacific Princess Cruise Ship? That is the best cruise ship and there is room for everybody on it. He could be a bartender, you know, the one to bring the Gatorade."
All was agreed and soon Loumy was not only the lowly bartender but the captain of the ship! And now I am blogging about it in the coolness of my quiet basement because instead of yelling and putting everybody in time-out, I was very astute and it actually worked!

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Hypo-bole

From Merriam-Webster:
Hyperbole is extravagant exaggeration (as “mile-high ice-cream cones”)

Hyperbole is very a good tool to use when trying to get your point across or when you want to be funny. That is, if you are me. Or my sisters. While dating, my suitor (Chancho) was often quite amazed at my expressions. If I was early to something, I would say, "It was amazing. I was like 4,000 hours early, and that never happens." See, I had to express how surreal it felt to be early to something that I had to use "extravagant exaggeration". Still not clear on hyperbole?
"My head looks the size of large airport in that picture."
"Well, of course we can't ever hang out--you have 9,000 children."

Since I frequent the use of hyperbole, sometimes I confuse myself and use, what I deem "hypo-bole".
From Perla's Dictionary (which always is available for browsing in the haunted parlor), Hypobole is accidental under-exaggeration which results in diminished effect and confusion. For example, we were in St. George and there was a raised walk-way we had to go over to get to our condo. It sounded really loud and thunderous, no matter how gently I tried to walk over it. I didn't like it because, as I accidentally said, "It makes me sound like I weigh 100 pounds!" (And I haven't weighed that little since I was an infant)

For better (or not) String Cheese has adopted the use of hyperbole. The other day, though, she started to move into the hypobole realm. At least I think that is what it was. In the way only children 3-6 years of age can do, String Cheese and friends can entertain themselves for hours by saying outrageously silly and exaggerated things. I will say, "I need to get my phone." and she will say, "I need to get...my refrigerator!" Then she'll wait...and her little siblings will give her the appropriate amount of guffawing, then they will start trying some of their own, "I need to go get my...counter top!" haha. "I need to go get the...trampoline!" haha.

This kind of silliness started in the car while String Cheese was with my friend, Pooka, and her boys. SC and JaJa were doing some kind of "what-if", crazy, silly-kid nonsense. They were laughing hysterically when SC came up with another good one. It went like this:
SC: What if...a baby was BORN...and then it DIED...(wait for the laugh)
JaJa: (not laughing) well, that can be real.
SC: No, but, like, what if a baby was born and then the baby died? (giving a laugh herself to remind him that he was now supposed to fall into hysterics)
JaJa: Yeah, but babies really do get borned and die sometimes so that's not funny.

So, unlike the extravagant exaggerations that had gained her so many laughs previously, my daughter had followed in my foot steps and accidentally stepped into the realm of hypobole: accidental under-exaggeration which results in diminished effect and confusion. And maybe even a little sadness from sensitive, handsome little Ja-Ja.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Deedle's PREformance

Today was the day that Deedsy has been waiting for since...well...since her last performance, or, as she says it, "pre-formance". Deedsy and String Cheese started taking tap and ballet last fall. String Cheese wasn't happy with the class, although she did very well. Because I'd paid for the costume and because I thought she might change her mind, I told her that she needed to stay in dance until after the Christmas recital. She was a good sport about it. She did a beautiful little dance for Christmas and looked stunning. But right when it was over she said to me, "Now I never have to dance again, right Mom?" And I couldn't go back on my word.I was afraid that since SC didn't enjoy it then Deedle wouldn't want to do it any more either. Boy was I wrong! That girl loves to dance. I will often find her in the mirror singing, "I like to move it move it! I like to move it move it!" And she certainly does.Today she had a dance performance at a middle school. She and her little group did a super cute little ballet (if you could call it that) to the song "The Flu" from the Hair Spray soundtrack. She was tired because it was nap time, but she did well and was happy to have Dad and Loumy watching and cheering for her. I really don't know that there is much of a cuter sight than eight 4-year-olds doing ballet.
After the pre-formance we came home, had dinner, then went as a family to Farr's Icecream (of course). Deedle kept referring to it as the ice cream "parlor". I'm not sure who taught her that but I love it. We then went to the park and played for awhile before coming home and heading to bed. What a fun day it was for Deedle and for the family together.I hope you enjoy these photos. They are totally Deedle to a "T". She can be so fun and mischievous but when it comes to dancing, she is all business. She is also all business when it comes to what is appropriate to eat at a certain age. Tonight as we walked out of the ice cream "parlor" (you know I love parlors), Deedle saw a man about Chancho's age. She scrunched up her face and incredulously, with some disgust, asked, "Why is HE eating PLAYDOUGH ice cream?" Of course, she and her two siblings were eating playdough ice cream, but she was quite bereft that an adult male would eat it. I was a bit disturbed myself.

Should Have Known Better


Megan should have known better than to have me be the one to be with her last Thursday. I've been stumped and out of blogging material for nearly a week. She should have known better.

Thursday I had the opportunity to take my darling, aforementioned sister, Meg, down to meet my tattoo lady. Okay, she actually is a permanent makeup artiste. Due to cold sores, Meg has lost some pigment around her lips and really wanted to have them done. Last year I had my eyebrows and liner put on and I have loved it. I initially did it so that I wouldn't look quite so alien-like when I lost my brows and lashes due to Alopecia Areata. And now that they are growing back, I like it even more.

Anywho, Megan needed somebody to drive her home because your eyes can swell and be very painful after the procedure. She had this great idea that we could go down together and then, afterwards, since we didn't have kids and were just having fun hanging out as sisters for the first time in ages, we would go out to lunch and possibly do some shopping. I knew that wouldn't be happening. And as Meg stumbled out of Janette's (tattoo girl) house with ice packs, saline solution, 3 pages of after-care instructions, 12 different types of ointments and a huge package of cotton swabs, she trampled straight through the flower beds and...at that point...I believe she ALSO knew that we weren't going to be shopping or going out to lunch.

Actually, Meg took the whole thing much more bravely than one would expect and, even swollen, I thought she looked fantastic! The liner is gorgeous and her lips are perfect, even if a little too puffy and dark for now (they take a few weeks to get to the color that they will stay).

When she wasn't looking, I took a picture of her during the procedure. Then, for some reason, she sent the photo to me on my phone. She should have known better. Don't you remember that I said I was out of blogging material?

It was so sad because for the entire FOUR hours that we were there, I talked talked talked about Haiti like the crazy Haiti person that I am (and now Janette and her husband are going to adopt from Haiti and help with Haitian Roots!). Meg told Janette, "I want my lips kind of a soft pink-ish brown like the color Perla is wearing." And Janette told her no, that it was not possible. Meg looked a bit downcast that there were really a limited amount of color choices, especially since I assured Meg that she could certainly have the exact color of her heart's desire (that would be Wet n' Wild 666 to you, Nancy).

So I was just like, "blah blah blah...Haiti...blah blah blah...poor kids...blah blah blah...Haiti...blah blah...orphans..." for hours and Meg just kept glancing at me. I don't know if it was the puffiness of the eyes or the pain or the smeared black and red ink all over her face, or the actual fact that her eyes were watering and tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she looked a lot like she was going to cry. By the way her eyebrows crinkled up and raised as she looked at me, I could tell she was worried about how her lips would be turning out. I kept trying to smile at my dear baby sister to reassure her and then just went on "blah blah...Haiti Haiti Haiti..." as Janette worked away. And my poor dear one looked just like a CRACK HO.

But in the above photo, with some of the ink washed off, you can already see that she does look much better (than a crack ho) and that her lips are going to be gorgeous!