We went to Central Market today--for the person in Singapore who reads my blog (according to blogger stats), whoever you are, Central market is the most awesome grocery store in the planet--and as we passed the entrance, Tallulah said, "boon, boon." I noticed that we had walked by the balloons and asked her "do you want a balloon?" And she did that little body shake that she does when she tries to nod. As I was getting her one, I asked Annabelle if she wanted one too.
"No, thank you mommy."
No thank you. From the girl whose third word was "beau" whenever she saw one. From the girl who loved them so much we had to always take her to the balloon aisle as soon as we got in the store to admire them. From the girl who always managed to let hers go and would cry so hard the store manager would come running over with a new one to appease her. No, thank you mommy.
Tallulah held onto hers while we were shopping and when she wanted to hold something else, she would give it to me until she was ready to have it back, and she held onto it all the way back to the car. Annabelle helped her with it in the car--apparently remembering the time the wind blew one of hers out of the car.
As we were driving off, Annabelle explained it to me:
"Time after time, big girls don't want to play with the things little girls like to play with."
Now, if you excuse me, I must go. We are going to go outside and try shoot some arrows that Annabelle made out of her tinker toys, that she still loves, thankfully.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Daddy's home
It has been hard on us, not having H around for the last month, but it has been the hardest on the littlest, because she doesn't understand why. She wakes up in the morning asking, "Papa? Papa?" She wanders around the house calling for him. She hands me the phone and says "Papa, Papa."
But today, she was in luck. He came home early and was there when she woke up from her nap. And he basically had to hold her until she went to bed at night. She is a daddy's girl--all the way. And I know he was tired and really just wanted to crash, but he was home, with his babies, so he read stories and tickled, ate popsicles in the mosquito infested yard, and even got in Annabelle's "clubhouse."
He's snoring now, though--it's a wonder you can't hear it through the computer.
"Book, book"
Paletas on the deck
Come inside, it's fun inside
Papa tickles are almost as good as grandpa's, according to Annabelle.
But today, she was in luck. He came home early and was there when she woke up from her nap. And he basically had to hold her until she went to bed at night. She is a daddy's girl--all the way. And I know he was tired and really just wanted to crash, but he was home, with his babies, so he read stories and tickled, ate popsicles in the mosquito infested yard, and even got in Annabelle's "clubhouse."
He's snoring now, though--it's a wonder you can't hear it through the computer.
"Book, book"
Paletas on the deck
Come inside, it's fun inside
Papa tickles are almost as good as grandpa's, according to Annabelle.
Monday, June 18, 2012
I am glad that we watched Pollyanna
But Annabelle isn't. When we got to the end of the movie, when Pollyanna has had the accident and needs the surgery and all the townspeople come to her rich old Aunt's house to tell her how much she means to them, I started crying--I just couldn't help it--if you don't cry at the end of Pollyanna, well, you have no heart. Annabelle has never seen me cry before and she didn't like it. She was trying to hide my face with her hands.
Then she gets on a train to go to Baltimore for her operation and the movie ends. Annabelle realized that this was the ending and burst into tears because "I want to see after the operation--when she gets better." And she was really crying when H walked in the door from work. He listened patiently through her sobs as she explained why the movie was a "bad movie, a bad, bad, bad movie." and why the "tv needed a spanking."
His response? Very vulcan-like: "I understand your need for closure."
I am glad for him.
Glad, be glad.
Then she gets on a train to go to Baltimore for her operation and the movie ends. Annabelle realized that this was the ending and burst into tears because "I want to see after the operation--when she gets better." And she was really crying when H walked in the door from work. He listened patiently through her sobs as she explained why the movie was a "bad movie, a bad, bad, bad movie." and why the "tv needed a spanking."
His response? Very vulcan-like: "I understand your need for closure."
I am glad for him.
Glad, be glad.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
no one will ever confuse me for bobby flay, that's for damn sure.
Before my restaurant widowhood, summer evenings went something like this--
call from h telling me he was on his way and telling me to light the grill. I would, and season the meat and then he would come and grill it. I would make the sides.
Now, he's not around and so I decided to try to grill myself. How hard can it be, right? I've seen him do it about a million times. Usually I am watcing the girls and talking to him about his day, their day, my day, while he is grilling, but I have observed him put the meat/chicken/fish/ veggies down on white hot coals and then turn them, baste them, whatever. And plus, we (H) are always watching the cooking network so I've seen bobby flay, et. al, do it about a million times too.
I made some salmon last week and it was good. A little of it came apart and fell into the coals, but that is ok, right? I am a learning, right?
So there is this thing called beginner's luck....
I moved onto chicken breast. I thought I would pour some vinagrette over it and it would be yummy and versatile and I could use any leftovers for pasta.
Because H is old school, we have a charcoal weber grill, not one of those fancy gas ones. And because H is crazy we cannot use lighter fluid, not because of harmful chemicals, mind you, but because he thinks he can taste it. So we use this little metal tube that you put newspaper under and let that catch fire and then it catches the coals on fire and then you have to do this tricky manuever where you lift up the grill and dump the coals into the pit without burning yourself.
After I dumped the coals into the pit, I noticed that there weren't very many of them. And rather than adding more coals like H sometimes does, I thought "I am sure this will be fine"
An hour later, I was still cooking the breasts. And they were raw, burnt and dry at the same time. I was able to find one that was edible (safe) and the girls ate it.
But I remained undeterred. And so I moved onto a nice steak I bought. This time I put tons of coal into the little cylinder thing-y. And I had this roaring fire. And I put the steak on to the sound of a very satisfying sizzle. But then, I covered the fire--because I've seen H do that before. And it made the temperature of the grill rise, and when I took off the lid it looked like it might be a little overdone. I turned it and went back inside. I glanced out the window a minute later and the steak had somehow caught on fire.
Yeah--that ought to do it.
Somehow it was rare, burnt, and tough as nails--tough being somewhat of an accomplishment for a piece that was once labeled as prime. And when I cut into it, the steak had this hairy appearance, and I am not sure why. (This is also something I have never done. H always cuts the meat.)
Annabelle ate it, but spit out out about 50 percent of it because they were "to hard for me to chew"
Once more, I am undeterred.
Tonight I made salmon again. And it wold have been okay, except when I was lighting the grill, I noticed some rain clouds. And while they were quite dark, I ignored them because the accuweather forecast said there was only 20 percent chance of "pop-up" showers--and why would one suddenly "pop up" over my grill?
Well, because it could. That's why. And so while my salmon was cooked through, it was slightly cold and wet and without flavor from the rain having washed off the bbq sauce.
Annabelle ate her entire piece, which was nice of her. Tallulah and I just opted for the peas and wild rice.
I remain undeterred. I am the Rudy of the grill. And to the people (Hyphen) who read this blog that think only losers like the movie rudy--may I remind you of the time that you served me raw shrimp in my greenbriar apartment, or the time you burnt the steak, like 2 months ago.
After dinner, instead of our usual popsicle on the deck and mudpies, Annabelle spread out a blanket and we had oreos by the picture window and watched the cars go by in the rain and then we played hide and go seek.
Turns out some people are as good at that game as I am at grilling.
Crumb faces!
Yeah, I have no idea where you guys are....
call from h telling me he was on his way and telling me to light the grill. I would, and season the meat and then he would come and grill it. I would make the sides.
Now, he's not around and so I decided to try to grill myself. How hard can it be, right? I've seen him do it about a million times. Usually I am watcing the girls and talking to him about his day, their day, my day, while he is grilling, but I have observed him put the meat/chicken/fish/ veggies down on white hot coals and then turn them, baste them, whatever. And plus, we (H) are always watching the cooking network so I've seen bobby flay, et. al, do it about a million times too.
I made some salmon last week and it was good. A little of it came apart and fell into the coals, but that is ok, right? I am a learning, right?
So there is this thing called beginner's luck....
I moved onto chicken breast. I thought I would pour some vinagrette over it and it would be yummy and versatile and I could use any leftovers for pasta.
Because H is old school, we have a charcoal weber grill, not one of those fancy gas ones. And because H is crazy we cannot use lighter fluid, not because of harmful chemicals, mind you, but because he thinks he can taste it. So we use this little metal tube that you put newspaper under and let that catch fire and then it catches the coals on fire and then you have to do this tricky manuever where you lift up the grill and dump the coals into the pit without burning yourself.
After I dumped the coals into the pit, I noticed that there weren't very many of them. And rather than adding more coals like H sometimes does, I thought "I am sure this will be fine"
An hour later, I was still cooking the breasts. And they were raw, burnt and dry at the same time. I was able to find one that was edible (safe) and the girls ate it.
But I remained undeterred. And so I moved onto a nice steak I bought. This time I put tons of coal into the little cylinder thing-y. And I had this roaring fire. And I put the steak on to the sound of a very satisfying sizzle. But then, I covered the fire--because I've seen H do that before. And it made the temperature of the grill rise, and when I took off the lid it looked like it might be a little overdone. I turned it and went back inside. I glanced out the window a minute later and the steak had somehow caught on fire.
Yeah--that ought to do it.
Somehow it was rare, burnt, and tough as nails--tough being somewhat of an accomplishment for a piece that was once labeled as prime. And when I cut into it, the steak had this hairy appearance, and I am not sure why. (This is also something I have never done. H always cuts the meat.)
Annabelle ate it, but spit out out about 50 percent of it because they were "to hard for me to chew"
Once more, I am undeterred.
Tonight I made salmon again. And it wold have been okay, except when I was lighting the grill, I noticed some rain clouds. And while they were quite dark, I ignored them because the accuweather forecast said there was only 20 percent chance of "pop-up" showers--and why would one suddenly "pop up" over my grill?
Well, because it could. That's why. And so while my salmon was cooked through, it was slightly cold and wet and without flavor from the rain having washed off the bbq sauce.
Annabelle ate her entire piece, which was nice of her. Tallulah and I just opted for the peas and wild rice.
I remain undeterred. I am the Rudy of the grill. And to the people (Hyphen) who read this blog that think only losers like the movie rudy--may I remind you of the time that you served me raw shrimp in my greenbriar apartment, or the time you burnt the steak, like 2 months ago.
After dinner, instead of our usual popsicle on the deck and mudpies, Annabelle spread out a blanket and we had oreos by the picture window and watched the cars go by in the rain and then we played hide and go seek.
Turns out some people are as good at that game as I am at grilling.
Crumb faces!
Yeah, I have no idea where you guys are....
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Speaking mom
....talking about how I let Annabelle watch crap tv and listening to how my mom tried to rearrange her living room, suggesting that she get rid of the piano and then total non seq (which by my estimation accounts for 75% of our conversations)....
Mom: "the pickers went and picked something for william shaffer's house. shaker's. well, you know the guy from star wars. not star wars, the show that I used to watch."
Me: yes, star trek. His name is william shatner. I understand your language--but what I don't understand is the pickers. Is this some kind of show?
Mom: yes, they pick stuff. And Kirk wanted a Pie safe and they found one and they decorated his house so cute and I thought, Stella can do this. The pickers is a show. It is on tv. Do you know the hoarders? They hoard stuff. It is a show called the hoarders. And we watch it sometimes when we are desperate. They are disgusting. And then I look at my house and I realize that it is not messy. What I am going to do when basketball is over? Then I will have nothing to watch because my ncis is all reruns.
Mom: "the pickers went and picked something for william shaffer's house. shaker's. well, you know the guy from star wars. not star wars, the show that I used to watch."
Me: yes, star trek. His name is william shatner. I understand your language--but what I don't understand is the pickers. Is this some kind of show?
Mom: yes, they pick stuff. And Kirk wanted a Pie safe and they found one and they decorated his house so cute and I thought, Stella can do this. The pickers is a show. It is on tv. Do you know the hoarders? They hoard stuff. It is a show called the hoarders. And we watch it sometimes when we are desperate. They are disgusting. And then I look at my house and I realize that it is not messy. What I am going to do when basketball is over? Then I will have nothing to watch because my ncis is all reruns.
I am currently poisoning my child's mind
Annabelle doesn't watch a lot of tv. She gets scared of stuff pretty easily, even of bugs bunny cartoons and stuff on pbs kids. Also because I think that tv is crap with ads. So she hasn't seen many movies. From time to time, we do a movie night and the rule is that the movie has to be something that everyone in the family, including H and I, want to watch.
But I am a restaurant widow again, as the new place is open, and children are really missing their dad. Tallulah is wandering around the house looking for H saying "papa,papa?" and Annabelle, who gets it, is being a super big girl and saying things like "that's okay Tallulah, he'll be home late. He is working at the new restaurant. He's busy. But he will come home soon"
And I am trying to distract the big girl from the fact that we haven't seen him in 3 weeks by keeping her busy and doing fun stuff, like going to sea world and making her go down a roller coaster. So I decided to rent one of those barbie movies she is always nagging me to get.
It is total trash with a message of "buy stuff. be a catty bitch to your friends. Have a personal shopper."
And I tempted to turn it off, but then there would be crying and not understanding why mommy is so crazy. This is not how we live, obviously, and so hopefully I won't turn her into a hannah-montana-loving 4 year old tween, but I feel like I have sullied something by exposing her to this garbage.
I want to go back. I want to rewind-- but I am scared I am fast forwarding....
But I am a restaurant widow again, as the new place is open, and children are really missing their dad. Tallulah is wandering around the house looking for H saying "papa,papa?" and Annabelle, who gets it, is being a super big girl and saying things like "that's okay Tallulah, he'll be home late. He is working at the new restaurant. He's busy. But he will come home soon"
And I am trying to distract the big girl from the fact that we haven't seen him in 3 weeks by keeping her busy and doing fun stuff, like going to sea world and making her go down a roller coaster. So I decided to rent one of those barbie movies she is always nagging me to get.
It is total trash with a message of "buy stuff. be a catty bitch to your friends. Have a personal shopper."
And I tempted to turn it off, but then there would be crying and not understanding why mommy is so crazy. This is not how we live, obviously, and so hopefully I won't turn her into a hannah-montana-loving 4 year old tween, but I feel like I have sullied something by exposing her to this garbage.
I want to go back. I want to rewind-- but I am scared I am fast forwarding....
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Recent events
Sea World Trip? Check. And we had a wonderful time. Annabelle loved Shamu and was totally mesmerized the for the show. The rides? Not so much
While Nate Berkus was on telling people how to be house proud, I decided to paint a chalkboard wall, which now has an Annabelle side and a Tallulah side, with lots of yelling when their respctive sides are crossed
Yard play on a hot day. Come asyou are a fairy.
On a sad note, the spurs lost--so don't even bother to call my parents for the next 24 hours--they need a mourning period.
While Nate Berkus was on telling people how to be house proud, I decided to paint a chalkboard wall, which now has an Annabelle side and a Tallulah side, with lots of yelling when their respctive sides are crossed
Yard play on a hot day. Come as
On a sad note, the spurs lost--so don't even bother to call my parents for the next 24 hours--they need a mourning period.
Friday, June 1, 2012
did you hear the one about when the tea cup chihuahua and the mormon missionaries wandered into the yard?
I went on a walk this evening and as I was almost back at my folks' house I stopped to talk to Brenda, my parent next door neighbor who was out watering her front yard. Her yard stretches out for a long way in front of her house and from it you can see my parents' back yard--there are no real fences in Castroville and everyone just kind of mosies about into each other's yards. My dad and Gerry (Brenda's husband) were sitting in my parent's yard in what has been dubbed the "beir garten" enjoying a cold one. And this is what happened...
Brenda: Annabelle has a surprise for you.
me: another one? (She had been picking Brenda's tomatoes and taking them to me as I cleaned the kitchen)
Brenda (with a sly smile): oh yes.
Annabelle came roaring up holding a tea cup chihuahua under its arms. The chihuahua, who she named Jack, was as happy as a clam despite his apparent flea problem and so was Annabelle.
Annabelle: look mommy! Look what I found! Can we keep him? He's so, so cuuuttee"
Me: he is cute! who does he belong to?
Brenda: I don't know--but I think maybe Gerry and your grandpa can keep him.
Annabelle: where is he going to sleep?
Brenda: we'll make a place for him in the garage.
Now, I knew this would go over like a lead balloon so I headed over to the curmudgeon table...
Me: So, you got yourselves a new pet...
Gerry: Lord, we did not. Your daddy did.
Me(sweetly): But Brenda says you're going to keep him--
Gerry "I'll be danged if I'm gonnna have these durn cats and a damned old dog too...
Daddy: you should take that dog to Houston. His turds will only be about that big (hand gesture) not like the big ol' things you're picking up now and Annabelle loves him. You should have seen her whistling to get him to come to her. And then she took him in the house to show your mother.
Me: What did grandma say Annabelle?
Annabelle (pouty): she told me to get him out of the house before he peed in it.
It was about this time that some mormon missionaries walked into Brenda's front yard and started talking to her while she was watering the grass.
Gerry: oh lord squirt 'em. now she is talking to them, she's in for it now. When they come by I usually send them over here and tell them you are troubled and need saving.
Mom (who was now on the back porch): you better not!..Is that why I got stuck with them? (Calling out to Chico, a neighbor who had ridden up on his bike to join my dad and gerry) Chico, es tu perro?
Chico: no, I think he is Tina's
Mom: no, he belongs to the delanfuente's
Chico: no they have a white dog. This is Tina's.
Daddy: are they Jehovah's or Mormons?
Me: Mormons. Can't you tell by their black pants and white shirts?
we were momentarily distracted by pumpkin, my parents cat, attempting to stalk Jack
Daddy: sic 'em pumpkin
Annabelle: can we keep Jack mommy?
Me: if he doesn't belong to anyone, then we will take him home to Houston, sweetheart.
The mormons finished with Brenda and looked down my parents' driveway, and waved.
Daddy(under his breath): I am not waving, I am not waving. I am gonna offer them a beer.
I, of course, waved back.
Gerry: now you have to talk to them.
Me: that's fine, I am trying to convert mormons. The Jehovah's in my neighborhood say they can tell I know the lord.
Then Jack scared Tallulah and she started to sob and the party was over. In the end, we found Jack's owner. His real name is Pee-wee. He belonged to some old ladies down the street--one of them being Tina. Annabelle said they looked like witches and she was heartbroken about it. She needed some extra grandpa cuddles to recover from her loss.
Tomorrow we are headed to Sea World.
Brenda: Annabelle has a surprise for you.
me: another one? (She had been picking Brenda's tomatoes and taking them to me as I cleaned the kitchen)
Brenda (with a sly smile): oh yes.
Annabelle came roaring up holding a tea cup chihuahua under its arms. The chihuahua, who she named Jack, was as happy as a clam despite his apparent flea problem and so was Annabelle.
Annabelle: look mommy! Look what I found! Can we keep him? He's so, so cuuuttee"
Me: he is cute! who does he belong to?
Brenda: I don't know--but I think maybe Gerry and your grandpa can keep him.
Annabelle: where is he going to sleep?
Brenda: we'll make a place for him in the garage.
Now, I knew this would go over like a lead balloon so I headed over to the curmudgeon table...
Me: So, you got yourselves a new pet...
Gerry: Lord, we did not. Your daddy did.
Me(sweetly): But Brenda says you're going to keep him--
Gerry "I'll be danged if I'm gonnna have these durn cats and a damned old dog too...
Daddy: you should take that dog to Houston. His turds will only be about that big (hand gesture) not like the big ol' things you're picking up now and Annabelle loves him. You should have seen her whistling to get him to come to her. And then she took him in the house to show your mother.
Me: What did grandma say Annabelle?
Annabelle (pouty): she told me to get him out of the house before he peed in it.
It was about this time that some mormon missionaries walked into Brenda's front yard and started talking to her while she was watering the grass.
Gerry: oh lord squirt 'em. now she is talking to them, she's in for it now. When they come by I usually send them over here and tell them you are troubled and need saving.
Mom (who was now on the back porch): you better not!..Is that why I got stuck with them? (Calling out to Chico, a neighbor who had ridden up on his bike to join my dad and gerry) Chico, es tu perro?
Chico: no, I think he is Tina's
Mom: no, he belongs to the delanfuente's
Chico: no they have a white dog. This is Tina's.
Daddy: are they Jehovah's or Mormons?
Me: Mormons. Can't you tell by their black pants and white shirts?
we were momentarily distracted by pumpkin, my parents cat, attempting to stalk Jack
Daddy: sic 'em pumpkin
Annabelle: can we keep Jack mommy?
Me: if he doesn't belong to anyone, then we will take him home to Houston, sweetheart.
The mormons finished with Brenda and looked down my parents' driveway, and waved.
Daddy(under his breath): I am not waving, I am not waving. I am gonna offer them a beer.
I, of course, waved back.
Gerry: now you have to talk to them.
Me: that's fine, I am trying to convert mormons. The Jehovah's in my neighborhood say they can tell I know the lord.
Then Jack scared Tallulah and she started to sob and the party was over. In the end, we found Jack's owner. His real name is Pee-wee. He belonged to some old ladies down the street--one of them being Tina. Annabelle said they looked like witches and she was heartbroken about it. She needed some extra grandpa cuddles to recover from her loss.
Tomorrow we are headed to Sea World.
The Summer of Fun 2012
things I want to do this summer
1. see a lighthouse
2. float the frio
3. go to the bellaire aquatic center every week
4. teach annabelle how to read
5. go to seaworld
6. learn some constellations
7. make popsicles
8. go to the thump festival in lulling
9. krause springs
10. port a trip
11. put firelfies in a jar
12. take a nap in a hammock
13. go to some outside concerts
14. feel really bored (*this may seem at odds with numbers 1-13)
We are good so far on number three. Annabelle woke up Monday saying "It's the summer of fun! Let's go to the bellaire aquatic center!"
So we did. Just trying to balance some fun and activities with some slow parenting. Your typical mom juggling act. Now, if we can just stay below 100 degrees....
1. see a lighthouse
2. float the frio
3. go to the bellaire aquatic center every week
4. teach annabelle how to read
5. go to seaworld
6. learn some constellations
7. make popsicles
8. go to the thump festival in lulling
9. krause springs
10. port a trip
11. put firelfies in a jar
12. take a nap in a hammock
13. go to some outside concerts
14. feel really bored (*this may seem at odds with numbers 1-13)
We are good so far on number three. Annabelle woke up Monday saying "It's the summer of fun! Let's go to the bellaire aquatic center!"
So we did. Just trying to balance some fun and activities with some slow parenting. Your typical mom juggling act. Now, if we can just stay below 100 degrees....
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