TTFN

Two friends of mine from high school who didn’t know each other were married to their significant others on the same day, being yesterday, which also happened to be the birthday of the Hungarian-American 1940’s film actor Peter Lorre (who makes a “cameo” in the Bugs Bunny classic Hair-Raising Hare). We watched a Bob Hope flick (My Favorite Brunette) featuring Lorre, by total coincidence, on Lorre’s birthday. Which also happens to be my birthday.

Twenty-nine and going strong! Well not really. Strong, that is. I’ve been really exhausted lately. Testament to this fact is that Danny threw me a surprise party at my parents house on Friday and the party was half-way over before I’d realized it had begun. Seriously. The ninth or so guest happened to by my brother-in-law who commented on my blasé welcome with, “So, you’re not really surprised?” I walked away scratching my head and considering the embarrassingly blatant reality that the group of friends hanging out with a stack of pizza boxes in the dining room, being circled by my parents with giddy grins and camera flashing, were in fact there to celebrate me.

It wasn’t much of a relaxing weekend, which I was afraid would be the case, as I’d planned to begin formal homeschooling today. Who begins a school year in the middle of summer? That would be me. I told Dominic as I put him in bed last night that we would be starting school the next day. So when he sprang out of bed at 7:05 this morning (just as I was tip-toeing out for my quiet time) the first thing he did was to remind me excitedly that today was the first day of school. Dominic and Noemie were so eager to start that they cleaned up the toys from the playroom floor without dillydallying , then sat right down on the carpet to begin. Weeks ago, I typed up curriculum plans that take me through August with activities, art projects, field trips, discussions, and library books based loosely on the Konos character unit studies. We started with Orderliness. We talked about what order is, we talked about what order is not. We took comic strips that I’d cut up the night before and put the frames in chronological order. That was it for the morning, and as planned, we went to the playgroup at the park. On the way, Dominic and Noemie argued about whether or not there were such things as pink lightsabers, and agreed that regardless, Papi was stronger than a lightsaber. (I'd like to note my kids have never seen Star Wars). At the park, the splash pad was not working so Dominic and Noemie made good use of the open park shower and left chalk markings on the surfaces that suited them: picnic tables, brick pavers, their slimy bodies, strangers’ wagons, and so on. We came home for naps, and when Dominic woke up, had a reading lesson. We read a book from the curriculum plans (on Noah's ark...if there was ever a historical event that demanded order it was this one!) And picked up so Papi could come home to a clean house. It was my most functional day ever!

Father's Day with Abuelo Wilmo

(He doesn't usually dress like this, we caught him in his pajamas.)

Vacation Bible School

Noemie... always doin her own thing.

Our sweet baby boy, Cristovan, continues to be a source of great joy and amusement to the rest of us. Dominic loves to try to get a laugh out of him, and Noemie sees him as another one of her baby dolls. He's becoming a little more difficult to trap in her arms, however, as he gets closer every day to independent mobility. I have a feeling this one's going to run before he walks. And, get out the baby book, he stamped his feet rhythmically in what can be recorded as his first dance last Friday. In his own time, folks. There's no rushing this one.

As an Independence Day present to myself, I will be going sans-computer for a month. In case I don't talk to you until after this experiment in technology-fasting or perhaps torture, I'll be back in August! With homeschooling adventures to tell I'm sure...

What a day for a daydream...

A little voice comes over the baby monitor, "To infinity and beyond!" THUNK.

A higher pitched voice echoes, "To infinite and beyond!" THUNK.

Ah. my 7:30 am wake up call.

Happy random day in June! It's happy at the Espinosa house, for sure! Why? Because all the kids are napping! YAY! It's the little things.

What could make this day better? Sucking the middles out of half-baked cookies, that's what! I wonder what I am supposed to be cooking for dinner... No, I'll think about that some other time. I don't feel like being responsible at the moment. No, I've had enough of that. Who's responsible for the little girl at the park who's lifting up the tee-shirts of total strangers looking for babies? Yes, I claimed that one. Who's little boy is that walking on the roof of that stylish mini-van? I'm responsible! So now, with three babies sleeping, I'm ready to do irresponsible things. Like stare down the bold-text warnings on Nestle Tollhouse Cookie labels and say, "I defy you, warning label! You and your empty threats of food poisoning!" Nothing like warm gooey cookie matter to melt the stress away.

I love three year olds. They are funny, funny things. The other day, however, I was asked to watch the two and three year olds during the evening church service. I didn't find that to be amusing at all. When my co-teacher went to use the restroom I thought I was going to have a panic attack. The moment she left the room the volume rose sharply as one boy took the large bucket of blocks and dumped them on the floor, as another boy decided to punt all the play food toys one by one, and two other boys began to play tag while dodging blocks and flying plastic potatoes, in what is a relatively small classroom. One child eating Play-Doh made it abundantly clear that she didn't care that I did not approve. Instead, she curled up over it and hissed at me, like a certain hobbit, "I'm tricky!" Noemie meanwhile, was following on my heels asking over and over again for me to read her "disbooook." And then, of course, another had to use the potty, which is located in the hallway. So, while I love three-year olds, I would prefer to see them in isolated social settings. Sunday mornings must be much more constructive, as Dominic and Noemie are usually able to recount the lessons with great detail. Dominic's teacher said he practically led the class himself last week. Noemie came home talking about Peter. "Peter was a fisherman," I contribute. Noemie adds, "Yep, and sometimes a momma too." That caught me off guard. "Why do you say he was a momma?" "Because he wore a towel on his head." Why yes, yes he did.

Noemie says "momma" with a hint of southern twang. I don't have any idea where she got it from as all her teachers call me "mommy" and until now, I was Mami at home. But "momma" I am now and it kind of makes me a little uncomfortable. Speaking of uncomfortable, Danny will, from time to time, forget his wedding ring on the bathroom counter. This happened a few days ago, and I, trying to put it out of the reach of kids hands, placed it on the kitchen counter. Or so I thought. For two days, we searched for it, behind the dish drying rack, inside the disposal, under stacks of mail, and then out to other rooms where I thought I might've mindlessly dropped it off into some random nook or cranny. (I have a weird habit of thoughtlessly putting small things in accommodating receptacles and then not being able to remember what I did with them. This is why you may find a screwdriver standing in a pencil cup, hair claw gripping our bicycle's handle bars or my phone nestled into the rings of my recipe binder.) Maybe I'd hung it on the neck of a clothes hanger, or put it into a mug or tied it to a shoe. Who knows. I jokingly said to Danny, maybe Noemie took it. But then we stopped laughing and went looking for her Hello Kitty purse. There, amidst a tangled weave of princess-shaped silly bands and hair barrets, was Danny's wedding ring. She's like a troll!

Toby still isn't saying much. He's such a laid-back, easy going, tooth-deprived bitty baby. He doesn't appear to be a big fan of new experiences. He's never liked strawberries and I got to thinking yesterday that it was probably a psychological thing somehow. So I tried giving him the strawberries whole. Maybe that would interest him. But no, he dumped them on the floor. So I rinsed them and tried again, this time giving him a little broken-off chunk. He spit that right out. And on the next try, he turned his head so I couldn't get it in again. I finally managed to shove the piece of strawberry in despite the tears, and made him hold it in there for a few seconds. As soon as he swallowed, he grabbed the rest of the strawberry and tried to shove the whole thing in his mouth at once. Ha! I knew it! He's now a big strawberry fan. And blueberry too, after a similar exercise.

Dominic's been showing his lazy side lately. I ask Danny, "Is there any C-A-K-E left?" And Dominic quickly butts in, "Does that spell cake?!" Yet he complains that reading is too much work. He likes swimming at the level he's at, but he doesn't care to work any harder at it... like learning how to swim with his head out of water. If the sun is too bright, he's rather hide in the shade. On the upside, he can find Mexico and Madagascar on a world map.

I wonder what Thomas Jefferson would write if he had a blog. I'm so making that a writing assignment for the kids one day!

Dominic and Noemie enjoy snacks at the water park with their friends