Good medicine

Most people have heard of Amber alerts, where police request assistance in locating a kidnapper in action by means of reporting a vehicle's tag and description over highway message boards. What I had never heard of until I moved here to South Florida are Silver Alerts, indicating that an old person has gone off driving and never returned. Presumably, the driver of the vehicle will be driving around without any idea where he's going or how long he's been trying to get there, and some family member has realized that he may never come home at that rate. It's a sad and scary situation I imagine, but something about it kinda makes me laugh when no one is looking. Life is too serious not to laugh. We went to visit my abuela Yolanda on her birthday, Feb 7. The nursing home was having a Valentines' Day party, complete with karaoke. If you've never heard a 90 year old woman sing Cielito Lindo, you are missing out. (Aaaaaaaye aaaaaaaaaaaye yaaaay yaaaaaaaaaay...canta, no llores!)

85 years old!

South Florida is pretty unique. A cold front swept in overnight a few days ago and we woke up to a 50 degree day, which, apparently, makes Miamians extra lively. As we pulled onto Kendall Drive, there was a man holding up a store advertisement poster and dancing to the music in his headphones the way people do in their pajamas when no one is looking. This was not club dancing, or suave by any means, but carefree manic dancing- an incredible cardiovascular exercise- á la "Honey I Shrunk the Kids." So we turned into Town and Country because I was craving a smoothie. (It's bad luck in Cuban superstition to deny a pregnant woman her cravings). When the thirty-something year old man in line in front of me got his smoothie, he walked over to his table by the window and, in a space no more than 3.5 feet in diameter, performed a little break dance before sitting calmly in his chair. What flair! Miami on a cold day is the place to be.


A little over a month ago, Danny began driving his own police car, responding to calls solo. He was nervous at first but towards the end of his first day, a drunk Puerto Rican told him he was a good cop and I think he found that somewhat encouraging.

I like taking pictures of Danny when he shaves. Please excuse the wallpaper.

We've tried to make the most of this weather by spending time outdoors, especially visiting new parks. There are a lot of big playgrounds around here. Yesterday we visited yet another new one while Danny was at the chiropractor. We were getting ready to pack up and go pick up Danny when Noemie said she had to pee. Dominic chimed in that he too had to pee. So I took Noemie by the hand and we made our way towards the restroom facilities. At the edge of the park, I turned around to make sure Dominic was following but he was not. No, he was standing in the square center of the playground with his shorts around his ankles, peeing all over the place. In panic, I let go of Noemie and ran...yelling...arms flailing...(7 months pregnant)... across to where he was firing, but when I reached him... what was there to do? Think about that the next time your kid buries himself in playground sand.

Too cold for the pool? Nonsense. Am I scared of them catching colds? Nope. The only cold Dominic has caught in the past year was the day he licked anti-bacterial cleaner off his hands. Who tried cleaning his hands with anti-bacterial cleaner? Definitely not I. I never use the stuff. It makes kids sick. Obviously.


5 reasons I'm extra cheerful these days:
1. Less than 10 weeks to go before #5 gets here!
2. 70 degree weather
3. Entenmann's doughnuts were buy one get one free at Publix yesterday
4. Strawberry season
5. None of my grandparents drive

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances,
for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.
1 Thess 5:16

One teenager, one ninja, and some mutant turtles

Dominic's swim classes at the JCC have been going well. They welcome you with "Shalom" when you enter and I never know how to respond. Will they catch me for a fake if I return the greeting? Or will I be branded a gentile for responding with anything else? I hate mindgames...especially when I suspect I'm the only one playing them... Three weeks in, his 16-year-old instructor, Timothy (who Noemie calls Tiffany) still can't get Dominic to wet his head but at least he's willing to allow his weight to be supported by a noodle as he kicks his way around the pool. Dominic is taking swimming classes in an outdoor pool in February... I love Miami. If you live in Miami and don't go to the beach more than five times a year, you are missing out. Unless you don't like sand. I've met people that don't like the beach because they don't like sand. I don't mind it; I like to bury my toes it in it. Dominic loves it. He eats it by the fistful.

We were at the beach this morning, actually. On some occasion in the past year, Dominic received a foot-long bubble wand that made Danny the coolest parent at all the neighborhood parks. We thought nothing of taking it with us to the Lauderdale-by-the Sea beach near my cousin's apartment on this 60 degree morning. Before we left, I combed a 5 foot radius of sand dune trying to retrieve the bubble wand from an untimely burial but alas, the days where Dominic parades around town with his saber of soap tucked into his waistband have seen their end. I sincerely hope that the bubble fluid doesn't somehow seep into a turtle nest and create mutant loggerheads. They're an endangered species, you know. As someone who used to, as a 9 year old, voluntarily spend vacation time conducting self-imposed mini-beach clean ups, this would be devastating!

The exertion of my search tuckered me out a bit (it doesn't take much these days) but I'm happy to report that I've been feeling a little better lately. I had been lamenting... mourning, really... the loss of certain physical abilities- namely, the ability to paint my toenails, to throw myself into Danny's arms, but above all, the ability to belly-flop into bed, which is my favorite way to get into bed. (I LOVE my bed.) Still, Danny commented to me last week that if my belly and I were to get into an arm wrestling match, he thinks I'd still win. And there was something remarkably encouraging about that thought. I've felt a little bit stronger and more agile since. I may not be brave enough to risk learning new dance moves, but I think there's a spring in my step that wasn't there before and I think I've noticed I'm moving a little more briskly. Then again, maybe I'm just accommodating to my 6-months-pregnant alien-body.

Danny and I like to track all of our simultaneously-pregnant friends with every pregnancy and the tally is, at the moment, 11. I'm occasionally solicited for advice and now, while I'm thinking relatively clearly, would like to share my most valuable one: Read! It may be years before you have the opportunity to read at your leisure again. I very highly recommend What to Expect While You're Expecting and Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child (this is gold). I also recommend subscribing to Babycenter.com's weekly newsletter.

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Dominic learned to point fingers and say "boom, boom" from a little boy I used to care for in Tallahassee when he was just 18 months old. I was pretty upset about it, and tried to readjust his behavior by making him point to the roof when he did that. Like an excited Mexican. Recently I caught him lancing at imaginary mosquitoes with a carrot. Considering Dominic watches about 2 hours of TV/movies per week, and that he's also a really low-key, intellectual type of toddler, I was kind of surprised that violent behavior seemed to come so naturally. A friend recently sent me a link to a web article that defends the idea that boys are inherently and irrepressibly given to war-like behavior: The Killer Instinct. My mind was much eased. Suddenly, all the wrestling take-down moves he performs on Noemie seem almost permissible. But I'm really looking forward to him having a brother.

The Baby Name Poll for Mambo #5 is up in my Facebook notes. Make sure to cast your vote!