3 Months Without an Update

Clara decided over Christmas (or perhaps earlier) that she´s going to marry her buddy, Lucas.  Buddy Lucas lives in Indiana, and for months she had been referring to him as her "boyfriend".  I realize that that meant that he is a boy and he is her friend.  However, we spent Christmas in Indiana and actually had the chance to see Lucas, so I warned her that she might scare Lucas away if she called him her boyfriend within his hearing. 

Like any innocent little girl, she immediately asked me why.  Why, indeed?  *Sigh*--silly boys. 

I explained that the people that are often called boyfriends are boys that we´re thinking about marrying. 

Her immediate response--"but I AM going to marry Lucas!"

(I also let her know that she better not tell Lucas that, at least, not within the next twenty years or so, or she´ll likely scare him away forever. What big lessons to teach an almost-five-year-old!)

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Yesterday when I picked Clara up from school, her teacher was beaming with pride for Clara because she´s noticably integrating herself well with the other kids.  I asked Clara about it, and she said, "Oh, yeah--I got in trouble for playing with Yamile´s hair."

So basically, Maestra Mary is proud of Clara for having enough gumption to get in trouble. 

I love this woman.  

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I can finally no longer count the number of words in Joey´s vocabulary.  He learned to say "cow" as we were driving through northeast Texas, "football" on Super Bowl Sunday, and "luge" the other day when we were watching the Olympics. 

To which Mario responded, "what´s luge?"

Me makes these great little two-word sentences like "Mo´.  Eat."  And, because he has a five-year old sister, "Beat. You."  (As in they´re always talking about who´s going to finish eating first.  He´s not going to physically beat her.  She does that.  She also always beats him eating, but a boy can always dream.)

Usually, he´s pretty easy to understand, but the other day we were skyping with my parents and it became clear that Joey was consistently referring to my dad as "bunny".  For a few minutes I couldn´t figure this out at all. 

Me: "Is Grandpa funny?"   [thinking he was just mispronouncing the word]

Joe:  "No.  Bunny."  

Hmmm . . .

Finally I realized that we have a book that the kids like called Grandpa Bunny.  Since "Grandpa" is still a bit of a mouthful for him, it just made perfect sense for him to call Grandpa "Bunny".  

Of course. 

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In mass a few weeks ago, I was super excited when I noticed that one of my children was actively participating.  Whilst crawling around the kneelers, I distinctly heard a little boy´s voice singing away during the Alleluia.  "Loo-ya . . loo-ya!" 

A little while later, everyone in our church raises their right hand while we recite the creed, like we´re being swarn into a judicial hearing.  Hearing giggles behind me, I turned around and noticed Little Joe, entertaining the people behind us as he raised his hand for the creed, too!  Two and a half, and nearly confirmed.  [rolling my eyes]

The "loo-ya" thing has stuck in his head, as whenever he sees a cross, or a picture of Jesus, or a church, or hears church bells, he proudly proclaims, "Loo-la!"