A Good Read

Clara's absolute favorite activity is reading. She is content to have me read to her all day. And last week when she was sick, that is about all we did.

Of course, I should be thrilled. Deep down, I am.

However, if I read "Where's My Nose?" by Stephanie Ring one more time, I may just throw it across the room.

For a month of two, "Are You My Mother?" by PD Eastman was the absolute favorite. She just couldn't get enough of it. I had had more than enough. Slyly, I hid it on top of the washing machine and it was promptly lost for at least two weeks. Sweet relief! However, the baby bird, the kitty and the cow have recently rejoined our family, and I guess I did kind of miss them.

Other books, I try to scatter around in her bookshelf, thinking that if they're not grouped together on the bookshelf, maybe she'll branch out with her literary tastes and pick something else. No luck. Even when I put "Peek-A-BOO!" (a cute, lift-the-flap, Halloween book) upside down and backwards at the very back of the shelf, she still managed to fish it out.

For pity's sake, Clara--it's almost Christmas. Can't we say goodbye to Halloween yet?

Apparently not.

"Peek-A-BOO!" may find a new home on top of the washing machine one day very soon.

Wind + ice cream = bad news

I am officially a bad Mexican mommy.

Yesterday, Clara and I went to the park at the Alameda. I did not realize how windy it was until we were there. And Clara's head was not covered. Granted, if I did try to cover it, I'm fairly certain that Clara would have taken the hat off, but I didn't even give her the option yesterday. The park was packed (full of other bad Mexican parents apparently--all those kids playing in the wind?!?), and Clara was a bit overwhelmed, so we went home much earlier than I anticipated.

We were waiting to eat dinner with Mario whenever he got home from work. As he was not home when we arrived, we busted out the ice cream. And ate it with relish.

After ice cream, Clara and I went to read books on the couch. She was snuggling up close to me and being quite still, rather unusual for 4:00 in the afternoon. I asked her if she wanted to lay down.

She plopped right over on the couch. Wow.

As popular wisdom states, wind + uncovered baby + ice cream = one very sick baby.

Being a gringa, I've always dismissed such popular notions. However, I failed to account for the fact that my daughter is Mexican. The rules that apply to my health may not apply to hers.

Perhaps it is just possible that wind and ice cream will have an adverse effect on the poor kid.

Or maybe it was the virus that Mario brought home the other day.

Either way, it's one sick, lethargic day at our house.

Winnie the Poo

For the last few days Clara had been fighting, screaming and crying when it was time to change her diaper. Finally, I tried another tactic.

"Clara--do you want to use the potty?"

To my surprise, she said yes. I'm not even sure she knew what the potty was. However, we trotted off to the bathroom, took off her pants and diaper, sat her on the toilet for a split second until she wanted to go down. Then we went back to her room to put on a clean diaper. Not exciting, but no fights ensued. And she's wanted to return to the bathroom ever since.

So today we bought a potty seat. We almost had to wait, as we feared that our only options were a red, Rayo McQueen chair or a purple-and-pink princess chair. Finally we found a yellow and green Winnie the Pooh chair and even Mario preferred that over the other two options. (He HATES Winnie the Pooh.)

Later, he had clearly rationalized his acceptance of the Pooh chair when he told Clara, "and now you can poo on Winnie the Pooh." No regrets there.

This afternoon, Clara and I spent about a half hour at a stretch getting on and off the potty. Also, pulling her pants on and off. At this point, I'm pretty sure it's just a game. And while the only sign of potty training readiness she has shown is that she can walk to the potty (doesn't say pee or poop, doesn't seem to realize when she's peeing, can't pull her pants up or off), it is pretty exciting that she's interested. I'm just not expecting anything to happen at this point.

So if you need me this week, I have a feeling that I'll be in the bathroom.

Papa? Papa?

Clara is often asking where Mario is when he's at work.

"Papa?" [blank look] "Papa?"

"Papa's at work," I usually reply.

Today was different. Today Mario went to Monterrey to renew his US tourist visa.

"Papa? Papa?"

"Papa's in Monterrey so he can get a new visa so we can visit Grandma and Grandpa for Christmas." There's a simple, easy-to-follow answer for the one-year-old, right?

"Mama?" Now, she doesn't usually ask for me when I'm in the room . . . and I just got the feeling that she wasn't asking about me.

"Do you mean Grandma?"

[Clara nods her head 'yes'.]

Aww . . . Clara remembers my parents! I'm so glad we can see them so soon after our last visit.

When Mario returned, I asked him if he'd be getting his visa back within the standard 4-6 weeks. We're cutting it pretty close for Christmas, aren't we?

"They said it would be 12 weeks".

My face dropped and my brain couldn't quite take in that information. Mario cackled straight away at his "funny" joke.

"Nah--it'll be 3 weeks."

Phew . . . that stinker really had me going there!

It's About Time

1) Since it's been awhile since I posted a Clara update, and
2) the kids is making strides (quite literally) in a number of areas,
here's the skinny on Chubbs:

She walks! Without holding onto my hand! The second week that we were visiting my parents, she and I went to Parkview North's playground. I was sitting on a bench about 3 yards away from her as she played with their enormous abacus. After awhile, she pooped out, took a seat, and asked me to pick her up. I told her to walk to me. She kept asking, I kept insisting. Finally, she planted her hands on the ground, hoisted her heiney in the air, got to her feet and walked over to me. I was incredulous. She just looked at me, plainly saying, "What's the big deal? Of course I can walk."

Thanks for finally letting us in on the secret.

Her vocabulary is also advancing with leaps and bounds. Keeping in mind that bilingual children are a bit slower to speak, I was still getting a little worried when, at 20 months, her only recognizable words were "mama" and "papa". And even those words were hit and miss. Just within the last week or two, she has developed an 8-word vocabulary.

• Mama

• Papa (she does say "dada" pretty frequently, but as we've never referred to Mario as "daddy or "dada", I'm not counting it as anything.)

• baby. Until yesterday, this did not refer to a baby, at least not in Clara's mind. To Clara, "baby" means animal, any animal. Puppies, Chris's cats, the hornet in my parents' kitchen, illustrations of cows . . . they're all babies. Finally yesterday she did point to Baby Bill and call him "baby".

• no. Today she decided to prove that she is very, very good at "no". Funny how the baby books often mentioned that kids learn to say "no" right around the same time they learn how to walk. They were right on, in Clara's case.

• please. She still does the sign language, but now she'll often accompany it with a verbal, "pee".

• ball. It comes out as either "ba" or "be". Very consistent, though. I think it was her first word after mama and papa.

• yeah. I've heard her say it a few times in the last week, but "no" has solidly eclipsed anything positive.

• beer. Mario was enjoying one tonight and Clara was working really hard to get a sip. After quite awhile without success, she thought it would be good effect to string together, "Pee [accompanied with hand signal], bee." For real? Beer?!? You're out of control, Clara.

Lili--Make Sure Your Parents Watch This!

Warning: This post is just a glorified email for my family (particularly my father-in-law). Videos don't email well.

Clara has been making the goofiest sounds and sentences for a week or two now. But last night she strung a bunch of new syllables together and came up with abuelo! (grandpa) And then she repeated it over and over.

Of course, as soon as I whipped out the camera, her version of abuelo became less and less identifiable. But at the end of the video, I think she says it well again.

Being super-excited, I wanted to pass that on right away. For most of the video, it is me talking, trying to get her to repeat me. But she DOES say it! Really, she does!

I Want . . .

We got home at almost two o'clock after the ladies' Bible study at the Gringo Church (aka, Saltillo International Church). Everyone brought delicious cake, cookies, and egg dishes to share and this morning we just sat around forever and a half, chatting the morning away. So nice, as we haven't gotten together since school got out. Therefore, we left late. And then I got caught in the after-school traffic. Grrr . . . Someday I'll wise up.

Clara managed to get a 20 minute nap while stuck in traffic, and most Wednesdays, she thinks that's enough. I disagree. My plan to convince her to rest for an hour or more is to feed her, throw her in the tub/pool and then, to bed.

As soon as we walked in the door she got antsy. "Do you want to eat?"

Immediately, she put her finger to her nose to signal "please" (or yes, as the case may be).

I started scrambling an egg. (She's more of a lady than I am and didn't gorge herself on the cakes and cookies as I did.) When I turned on the burner to melt the butter for her egg, she got whiny all over again.

"Are you sleepy? Do you want to go to bed?"

Affirmative.

OK, what is it that she wants? Of course, at nearly two o'clock, she probably is both hungry and sleepy. But sometimes I catch her by asking her questions beginning with, "do you want . . . ?" and whatever it is that I ask her that she wants, she'll say, "Oh, yeah--that would be great!"

All her life, I've been a big believer that she understands what I'm saying. However, part of me wonders if she just hears the word "want" and thinks, "yep, I want".

And really, don't I do that, too? The power of suggestion is strong. Last night, Mario went to the grocery store by himself (oh, so dangerous), and as soon as I saw the bottle of Coke he brought home (knowing he was planning on making himself a cuba libre with it), I developed an overwhelming urge for a cuba myself. I never would have thought of that on my own. But oh, those little triggers.

Also, part of me is itching for something new. There are a number of stores for rent near us, a few that would be perfect for a bakery. Oh, how I want to run a bakery! Sometimes I think over the idea in my head until it seems like the most idyllic situation in the world. (Daydreams don't leave room for irritating realities.) Then, I sit back and think, "wait--I have a very small daughter, and I've always really wanted to be able to have the opportunity to stay home with her."

This opportunity is presenting itself now. Three years from now, when she's in school, is not the time for me to decide to stay home with her.

Like Clara, I want . . . I want. I apparently want any good idea that's presented to me.

But one thing at a time.