Tuesday, May 26, 2009

They say that soon

I won't be able to travel, so last weekend Matt decided we would have a last hurrah. Oh, and did we hurrah! We went to Milwaukee with my parents to pick up cars for the shop and ate at Abu's Jerusalem of the Gold. We stayed in a hotel and swam in a pool and ate waffles for breakfast! (Flaco took one last swim in the bathtub before we left, and his little foot slipped and he went under. I pulled him out and he sputtered and cried and said "Susto! Noe!" which means "Scary! Noah!" Matthew said "Oh Boo! You're right, you were like Noah. Or maybe Jonah" and Flaco said "Jonas, no pez" ... "Jonah, no fish.")
From Milwaukee we went to Madison, where we ate at Famous Dave's thanks to a gift-card from my sister and Fernando! We bought babygirl a present on State Street, where Flaco created quite a scene with his high-pitched announcement that he loves Obama. I tried to minimize the scene by explaining that he also loves Bush, Putin, and Medvedev, but then he had to go and start saying "Buddha Buddha" (he had pointed at a statue, so Matt told him what it was) which drew even more shrieks of "That's so cool" and admiration that we would teach our son to recognize "such important people." Obviously this could not be easily smoothed by saying "He also knows who Jesus is" so we just paid and ducked out quick, very embarrassed. In the car, Matt taught him to say "Buddha lies" as penance.
From there, we went to the zoo, where Flaco got to see (among other things) a porcupine and a tiger. Then he played in the lake and chased geese. Next was a party at Ginger's for Megan and Jason, where there was amazing food and delicious dish full of double entendres. Hehe.
The next day (I continue!) Matt went for a four mile run and I played with the Flaco before church (a very wonderful sermon out of Judges.) Then we (I say we! Ha!) built a chicken coop (which is not quite finished yet but darn close) and cleaned our house and rearranged our upstairs in preparation for babygirl's arrival. Then we went to a grad party, ate lunch and went with my parents boating on the Mississippi! Fortunately, Flaco's bathtub scare wasn't permanent, and he tried his hardest to fling himself overboard. When we got back, we went to another grad party, where the host (my dad's cousin) let Lucas pet a newborn pig! We talked politics, which is always fun, and then came home.
...Only to get up the next day to finish working on the coop, hang up a hammock, begin babygirl's painting, have a cookout, make hot fudge (or rather, watch while my dad made hot fudge), and whisper until the wee hours of the night how tired and happy and tired and happy we were.
I just thought to myself, why did I type all that out? A little late for such a question. There it is. It was so very nice.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Big shoes for little man

It appears that quite literally the Flaco wants to fill his grandpas' and daddy's shoes. Also my flip flops.
In a more metaphorical sense, he has started imitating people in new ways. He drinks the milk out of his cereal bowl. He says chuzo! (which is the equivalent of aw shoot.) He commends Fyo when he does tricks. He cackles when something is funny (although I'm quite sure he doesn't know why.) He runs around naked in the creek.
(Oh wait. That's just him.)

Friday, May 15, 2009

Last time

Flaco's grandparents came to visit him, he got so excited that he fell over. Like a cartoon, landing hard on his bottom with his little feet in the air. A look of shock on his face, ducks circling around his head. Sometimes when we get in the car, he says "Vamos, Appleton!" and I have to break it to him that no, we're just headed to WalMart or some other lesser destination. His lip quivers.
There's this story about how one time Matthew made a t-shirt for his grandpa, and he wrote on the front of it "GRANDPA!" with an exclamation point. His grandpa said "Why did he write it like that?" because apparently it was a little sloppy and not obvious that it was punctuation. Matt said "Because that's the way I'm going to say his name next time I see him. Grandpa!" I hear exclamation points every time Flaco talks about his Abuelo and Beeba. Dozens. Italics too. Maybe even asterisks with little notes below that say*
*Iyuvyou Iyuvyou Iyuvyou Iyuvyou.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

They were a little too quiet for me to overhear, but I bet it was an interesting conversation. I bet it was.

When Flaco was born, I read him the book "Danny the Champion of the World" which is a terrible title because it sounds like it would be about sports, which is most definitely not. It's about this kid who lives in an old gitano trailer with his dad, who runs a filling station. The story is about how they poach pheasants by stuffing bloated raisins (I think raisins? I read it in Spanish and they were called "pasas de corinto" and I'm not quite sure how a Corinthian pasa would differ from a regular pasa) with sleeping pills and sewing them shut. I read this book when I was in 7th grade, during which time I accidentally skipped a year or math (due to losing my schedule early on in the year) and ended up frittering away 5th hour in the library every day. (Also where I discovered Karl Marx, The Ugly American, Johnny got his gun, and a slew of how-to books on magic tricks.) No books on fractions, unfortunately. All this to say, some 14 years later I remembered this book and thought my babyboy might enjoy it, so I checked it out and read it to him. I think there is something kind of -what is the word?- irreplaceable about the relationship between a dad and his son. Matt and his boy are the image of this. Sometimes when Matt thinks I'm asleep upstairs, I just lay there pretending, eavesdropping. (This is how I discovered that Matthew was "correcting" Lucas's speech: for example, "No Flaco, not 'up up up,' se dice 'puh puh puh. Di 'puh.'" Or perhaps "No Flaco, no se dice 'me too,' se dice "pe too.'" ) He misses how his babyboy used to mispronounce words. He misses it when Lucas loses his accent and learns a correct English vowel. At the same time, he thinks to teach him all kinds of new things that would never have occurred to me. Jazz hands. The names of the presidents* in reverse-chronological order. (We're stuck at Bush II, but he repeats the names back through Nixon very nicely.) Facts about said presidents. ("Carter wore cardigans and grew up on a peanut farm and had very big lips! Repeat, Lucas, 'Tenia labios grandes!'") How to catch a frog. How to make hummus. He's nervous about raising a daughter (he once told me "Maybe she could kind of be your kid and Lucas could be mine**") but I personally can't wait. Can't wait to see him with our babygirl, can't wait to see what new things he will come up with this time around.
*Flaco is quite taken with Obama. I caught him sitting on the couch leafing through a copy of time the other day, and when he got to a caricature of our president, what did I overhear but "I love you, Obama." Always says his name in a gravelly little voice. Don't know why.
**I of course pointed out what a terrible suggestion this was. "They kind of scare me" was his response. "Obviamente" I said.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

There are a hole lot of puns

a McFall could make from this picture. I can't though. Not well. I assume it's because of my Verdesoto looks that I lack the ability. Lucas though, let me tell you, Lucas inherited both the skinny legs and the pun gene. He has two to his name so far! Here they are!
1. My mom taught Lucas to say "yucky-poo" when something is gross. So the other day he was standing looking at the cows, saying "Vaca vaca vaca!" (as always) and then he looked at my mom and smiled and said "Vaca. Yucky-MOO!" And then he threw his head back and laughed and laughed.
2. Pun number two may get lost in translation but I'll write it anyway, for posterity. Every night he asks for rice and sausage (Arroz! Salchicha!) and so the other night, he was playing with his stacking rings, saying "aros, aros" when all of a sudden it occurred to him that the word sounded similar, so he held up his ring and said "Aros y salchicha!" (Rings and sausage!)
So there you have it. He has moved beyond the seizure joke into a new terrain of humor!

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

Mister Manners Presents:

Proper Dining Etiquette
1. Always chime in during the meal prayer. The host will be glad that you mentioned the names of those you wish to pray for. If you have trouble articulating what exactly you are praying about, simply pause after saying a name and the host will finish your sentence with a proper predicate. Finish the prayer with a hearty AMEN before reaching for your spoon.
2. Always eat soup before your meal. If none is provided, you may take your glass of water and make your own soup consisting of the ingredients offered on your plate. At this point, it is probably wise to request a salchicha or a cebolla, as they make every soup that much tastier.
3. Be sure to remind any elderly guests present to take their pills. If said guest is hard of hearing, use a shrill, clear voice when saying "Pastillas."
4. Never underestimate the importance of rest. Please observe the good Lord's creation and follow likewise: after eating a large meal, the python curls on a warm stone to digest for a while before he eats again. Similarly, while eating, you may find it necessary to request that someone come sit next to your chair and extend their hand for your head to rest on. Even if you have taken an hour to eat and no one is left at the table, feel free to call out the name of your person of choice. They will most likely be happy to oblige, and will hold your weary head until you have the strength to pick up your spoon again.
5. Compliment the cook on the items offered before you. "Rico rico!" is greatly appreciated and will cause said cook to make you your favorite foods in the future.
Mister Manners hopes that this public service announcement contributes to the overall enjoyment of your dining experience in the future.

Sunday, May 03, 2009

It's the pits.

Poor Flaco's love of olives got him in trouble yesterday. He snatched a calamata olive from Matt and before he could stop him, he shoved it in his mouth and swallowed it whole. We didn't think much of it until about 3 am when, after two straight hours of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth it occurred to us that maybe it was stuck somewhere in his tiny system. (This picture was taken earlier, when he was still feeling fine, but was just sad about bedtime. Obviously we didn't take a picture of him in his despair.) We called the doctor, who said he needed to go have an X-Ray, and then, just as we hung up, the pit seemed to turn and drop (it was stuck above his stomach, they said.) So just like that, in the blink of an eye, he felt better. I don't know why I've taken to narrating things out like this but I guess I just want to say that I'm grateful that once again, God took care of our boy. And I'm not really sure who reads this, but I'll write this to you specifically anyway. (Ha! Does that even make sense?) Our friend Sandra's boy Isaac has been in the hospital for over a month now with lung damage. They've had him sedated for most of this, which is kind of an induced state of coma as I understand it. I cannot imagine how painful it must be to see your son hooked up to machine after machine and to not be able to do anything to make it better. So I'm asking you to pray for this boy, that he will get well soon. There is nothing nothing nothing like a hurt little one.