Sunday, July 20, 2008


I just don't know what else to call this entry. I had to make a new label too, which I guess is fine, because it will probably come in handy.

Last night I was making my visual aids for Primary Singing Time (I'm the chorister - my dream calling), and down the hall I heard a door open and shut. My brother-in-law's family has been staying with us for the last month while they close on a house (this Tuesday!), so I figured it was just one of my nietos getting up to go to the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, though, I heard three-year-old Tristan crying.

I went in to the bathroom and he was sitting there sobbing on the toilet. The tell-tale trail of diarrhea and soiled clothing told the rest of the story.

Now, Dan and Hyde had gone to the movies after putting their kids to bed. During the last month, this arrangement has worked well for us - we've traded off staying home while the other couple stays uneventfully with the sleeping kids. I guess my luck just finally ran out.

Now, having a 1-year-old daughter and a sister who is 13 years younger than me, I have plenty of experience taking care of poopy kids. The thing is, though, that I'm not used to boys - specifically, boy parts. And, um, I guess I'm still a little weird about them. That may seem odd, considering that I'm married and pregnant, but...well, boys and girls are different. And it's weird enough to have to clean poop off someone else's kid without that extra bit of awkwardness.

I told Tristan to wait there while I went down and got Steven. "Steven," I said, "Tristan pooped his pants...and he's a boy. And I'm not. I need help." "Oh," said my husband, "I just took out my contacts..." Meaning that at this point, he was pretty much blind. Sigh.

I went back upstairs, took a breath (outside the bathroom), and went to work. I got him cleaned up, rinsed out his clothes (gross), gave him a bath to make sure all crevices were poop-free, and got him in a towel. Then we went into his parents' room to look for clean clothes. Which were nowhere to be found. Every pair of superhero undies I presented were pronounced "Victor's." Finally, I went down to the laundry room where, luckily, I found a smaller pair of Spiderman underwear in the dryer, along with some pajama pants. Poop-free, tear-free, and clothed, Tristan went back to bed, and I went back to finish cleaning up the bathroom.

This story has no moral. Except that when life gives you a diarrheic three-year-old, clean up his poop.

Friday, July 18, 2008



I just bought a bunch of books online. Olivia somehow stuck several of the pages of My First Animal Book - one of her favorites - together, and after trying to steam them apart, I realized that 1) it was taking a long time, 2) I would not be satisfied with the end result, and 3) my hourly rate for freelance work is several times the price of a new book, especially if I can find it online. Which I did, along with several other goodies that I've been wanting for a while: Crictor, Space Witch, and My First Body Book. Actually, that last one isn't something I've craved, but it looks good. The other two are some I remember from my childhood, and I'm excited to have them again. Yesterday at Goodwill I also found a Syd Hoff collection for $2 that included Stanley, Sammy the Seal, and Grizzwold. I don't remember the first two, but I have fond memories of Grizzwold. Now I'm on the lookout for Danny and the Dinosaur, or in fact a complete Syd Hoff collection. I'm not one of those people who can buy (or do much of anything) without guilt, but I feel good about today's purchases.


Yesterday we had our friend Kimberly and her daughter Rachel over for dinner. Kimberly's husband is out of town for a couple of weeks. We keep meaning to invite them over, but having extended visitors has put a little bit of a damper on many of our social plans. Since Dan and Hyde took the kids to San Antonio for a couple of days, and since I know how hard it is to motivate yourself to cook for one, or one and a half, it was a good time to have them over. Every time I talk to Kimberly I think afterwards how much I like her. It's nice to mutually want to be friends with someone, not out of obligation, but just because you like talking with them.


A few days ago Steven was showing me some of his foreign money that he collected as a kid. It was interesting to look at. One thing that struck me was a Brazilian bill - the picture on the back depicted the conquest of native peoples by the Europeans. I thought it was interesting because often today, the offspring of a conquered people feel a kind of resentment toward those ancient conquerers who raped and enslaved their ancestors. The fact is, though, that, like it or not, the conquerers are as much their ancestors and the conquered. You may not approve of what one side of your ancestry did to the other, but they are both equally a part of you. To me, it seemed that this Brazilian currency demonstrated their understanding and acceptance of this.


I am! My due date is February 15th - which also happens to be my birthday. I haven't been sick, which is nice; just tired. And emotional. It's hard to imagine sharing maternal love and care with someone besides Olivia, but I'm also excited. Having a baby grow inside of you is absolutely miraculous, and seeing in Olivia what that baby will grow into - a little person who thinks and reasons and has ideas all their own - is mind-boggling.

Garlic-Stuffed Green Olives

I love them. Love them. Oooooh, man.