Sheryl at PaperNapkin totally gets me (not that she knows me...)

Paper Napkin: All the news that's fit to wrap your gum in.: Lesson Of The Day

In which she wants her turn on the computer, but she sabotages herself by saying something that must be blogged immediately

Julia: My bottom hurts.
Me (Absently): I'm sorry.
Julia: It hurts, it hurts.
Me: What happened to it?
Julia: I don't know, it just hurt by itself. You have to kiss it! (Giggles)
Me (Gives her a look)
Julia (Assumes "praying to Mecca" position): Kiss it! You have to kiss it!

Poor Baybee

Emily got a reprieve yesterday because it didn't occur to me that she needed to be fasting. I didn't think she'd eaten much, but the vet said it would be best to bring her back today if it wasn't too big a hassle, so that's what we did.

Friends in high places

And now, because I love you, I will provide you with answers to questions you never knew you had, thanks to the official FAQ of the U.S. Postal Service.

New information: God does, apparently, have a zip code. And yet. Your God and mine have different addresses. And yet. Presumably, they are still the same God. I think I like that.

(My favorite part: "The USPS will see that the letter is received at the proper place." Just doing our job, ma'am.)

They've got to be kidding (Now with pictures!)

I suppose I'm probably the last one on my block to be convinced. It's one of those things. Someone you trust can swear it's true. They've seen it with their own eyes and anyway doesn't everybody already know it's true? But you remain unconvinced. It just doesn't sound right. Maybe they're exaggerating - it wouldn't be the first time.

Well now I know. It's true. Mating dogs really can get stuck. Stuck, like they're done and they're both ready to go their separate ways, but...they can't. They literally can't. They just have to stand there at a 140-degree angle and wait it out.

Now why would this even be possible, much less true? What natural purpose could it possibly serve? I would think the potential for frustration, impatience and, ultimately, catastrophic damage would be much greater than the reproductive benefits of inseparable genitals.

UPDATE:

I should have known it wouldn't happen just once.

Everyone be extra nice to Alex, who for some reason had a pack of AA batteries in the car, without which this oh, so tasteful photo essay would not have been possible.

So here's the...well, the beast with two fronts, I guess you'd call it.

Which of course was followed by:



Which in turn was followed, inevitably, by:



Tune in Monday for a very special Coasting Richly as young Emily comes to terms with the surgery brought on by her burgeoning womanhood...

Scarred for life

In the car this morning Robin asked whether there are any donut stores in Costa Rica. I explained (there is a terribly disappointing food item that a lot of people call and consider donuts, but no actual donut stores and, to my mind, no actual donuts), then my mind wandered on to other things while the girls continued to explore the topic.

A couple of minutes later I tuned back in to hear Julia's sing-song enumeration of what the ideal donut store would contain:

"...and cakes...and cookies...and candies...that taste good..."

Thanks Brett

Last February my friend Brett spent a couple of evenings with us when he came to Costa Rica for a visit. He brought these excellent gourmet white chocolate covered berry-flavored craisin things. And be brought a little box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Now, I'm looking forward to Harry Potter. Everybody loves it so much, I figure we will too, when the kids get a little older. Harry is a young magician/warlock who is studying his craft at, I believe, a boarding school for witches. I'm sure we'll be able to give you the whole story in a few years.

Apparently, in the story, Harry et al enjoy these Every Flavor Beans.
Apparently, Jelly Belly knows a merchandising opportunity when it sees one.
Apparently, Bertie Bott (or JK Rowling) has an active imagination.

Along with your standard Jelly Belly flavors like Cinnamon, Banana, Buttered Popcorn and Toasted Mashmallow...you have your specially crafted Harry Potter flavors: Black Pepper, Sardine, Spinach, Grass, Dirt, Ear Wax, Booger and, yes, Vomit. (Just imagine the R&D...)

As anyone who knows Jelly Belly knows, the company's reputation revolves largely around bold, realistic flavors. I saved them for a long time.

But today I've had my credit card rejected for a big-ticket item purchased on eBay. I've been on international phone calls with the bank (which solved my problem) and the IRS (which put me in my place). I received a translation I wasn't expecting till the weekend and, if you haven't yet, see below for a glimpse of this morning's before-school fun & games.

I guess I was just ready for something completely different. Or maybe I figured at least it wouldn't ruin a perfectly good day. Or maybe it's just that translating always gives me the munchies.

I'm not sure I would have done it if Jelly Bellys didn't come with a legend printed on the box. If you sort carefully, you usually know what you're in for - or can at least narrow it down to two possible flavors.

For the geeks among us: The novelty flavors accounted for 40% of the total (8 out of 20 possible flavors), but 54% of the actual beans (25 out of 46) were...novel. I didn't get any Ear Wax, but there was at least one of every other specialty flavor. I only got two beans wrong when I sorted them, and everything I identified as normal was, in fact, normal. (Two of the supposed Dirts turned out to be Grape Jelly).

I started with Grass, figuring it would be the least objectionable. It was, in fact, so mild (or deteriorated...they've been in my drawer since February after all) that I couldn't really identify any flavor at all. So I moved up to Dirt. That was no baby step, let me tell you. It tasted like dirt. No, really. Totally like dirt. Like I could actually feel the grit between my teeth. Like I'm no wimp but I figured, Maybe I don't have to eat ALL of these.

So I moved on to Spinach. Yup, tasted like spinach but, you know what? Not really in a good way. Looking for a milder flavor, I went for Booger. Hmm, mostly sweet, not much flavor...no...wait...whoa Nelly - yep, that's pretty much what a booger tastes like (or did when I was four). And by the time it kicks in you've chewed it a bit and the consistency is right there along with it.

Okay, so now I'm committed - on to the Black Pepper. Very realistic. Sardine. Now that's disgusting. If I had been near a suitable receptacle, I might have spit that one out.

So, my friends, here's what I did. I decided not to try the Vomit. I decided to pitch it. I made an informed decision to wimp out. I'm a grownup; I'm not going to impress anybody by eating vomit flavored candy.

But then. Ah, then. I realized. I have access to people who will eat -or anyway want- anything with enough sugar and Red #4. Small people. Who might even deserve it.

"You didn't," you say. Oh, but I did. And you know you would have done the same thing.

I carefully divided up the remaining beans into equal portions, with a separate pile for any flavors not divisible by two. (It may taste like vomit, but heaven help us if anyone gets more of it than anyone else.)

Hey kids, come here a minute. You want to try these?
Candy!!!!
Yeah!!!!!!

[BOOGER]
Me: Here, try this one. How is it?
R: Good.
J: Good!
Me: What does it taste like?
R: Umm, like tree branches?
Me: Like Boogers!
R: Really? I never tried boogers.
[So you have tried tree branches?]
Me: Here, have another.
R: Okay.

DIRT:
Me: What about this one?
R: What does it taste like?
Me: Try it and see. [...] How is it?
R: Fine. It tastes like sea water.
J: I like it. Can I have another one?
Me: There's one left. You guys can split it.
R/J: Okay!

SPINACH:
Me: Here's one. Do you like it?
J: Mmm, I do like it.
Me: It's spinach.
R: It does taste like spinach. It's good

VOMIT:
Me: Okay, are you ready for the last one?
R/J: Yeah!!
Me: Here you go.
[Uncertain faces]
Me: Is it good?
R: I don't know what it's supposed to be.
Me: It's supposed to taste like throw-up.
R: [Grimace] It does taste like throw-up.
J: [Grin] Eeeew!
R: [Miserable face]
Me: You don't have to eat it. You can throw it away if you want to.
R: Okay [Turns]
J: No wait a minute, Robin. I'll eat it.

[15 minutes later]

J: Mommy, does the man who bringed those things have a girl or a boy? Does he have children?
Me: No, he doesn't.
R: But he likes children, right?

Party "Buts"

So the party went well overall. But...I think Julia would have enjoyed it more if it had been smaller and more organized. There really wasn't much attention actually paid to her - it was all about going through the motions of getting people fed, again and again. First the meal, then the cones, then the cake...

Before the party she kept saying she didn't want so-and-so, or so-and-so's kids, to come. And it's not like she ever plays with them or knows them all that well, but I couldn't think of any other way to have a party for her...and by then it was too late even if we had had a better idea.

She wasn't unhappy during the party, but she did remain within 12" of my hip most of the time, and insisted that there was to be no singing or clapping when we did the cake, so I think the adults found that to be a bit anticlimactic. The cake had already been seen and admired, so all I did was light the candles, bring it over to the table, and have her blow them out. Then we took it back and served it up. Very quiet.

She did have fun with the bubbles and the goody bags, etc. But really it could have been nicer for her. Again, maybe next year.

School "Buts"

And then there's Robin. She spent the day, and then the night, at the abuelos' on Sunday because I had gotten a weekend's worth of work on Friday but of course had not even glanced at it on Saturday. Julia was supposed to stay there on Sunday too, but she really really wanted to come home with me, so I brought her. It's not too hard to work with one of them around (especially Julia) - it's the combination that's deadly (and loud).

The work went pretty well and was basically finished by Sunday evening. Robin was going to spend the night down there (which she's always begging to do) and Yolanda was going to take her to school in the morning so I could give the documents a quick read in the morning (when my brain works best) and still have them sent by 8:00.

But Robin's teacher had given her a couple of homework sheets on Friday and not only had I forgotten to have her take them to Yolanda's house; she hadn't even done them. So I took the sheets down Sunday evening and sat with her while she did them. But then she didn't want to spend the night. Or rather, she did want to sleep at the abuelos' but she wanted ME to take her to school. We're not going to go there (precedent, you know), so I told her she had to choose. She freaked out for a while but eventually agreed to go to school with Yolanda in the morning (which she had begged to do the week before).

So they went in the morning and it was fine. But apparently the honeymoon is over. She still allows as how she likes the work, the music, the swimming, etc., and every time I pick her up she's happily engaged in whatever's going on...but she has been freaking out about not wanting to go - Monday night, Tuesday morning and this morning. (Tuesday night she was upset but not identifying it with school.)

On Monday night and Tuesday morning she said it was because nobody wanted to play with her. I had noticed her playing with a particular little girl (Sophie) for the first week or so, and then seen Sophie playing with other kids when I picked Robin up more recently. So I explained it to the teacher and asked her to help Robin find a child to play with. She seemed very understanding.

This morning Robin said the problem was that she wanted me, or someone from her family, to stay with her. She calmed down a little at a couple of points, but quickly got worked up again, and when we got to school she actually refused to get out of the car. I had gotten there early enough to stay for five minutes or so before the day started, but it didn't seem to help at all - she just kept crying and clinging. As I was finally disengaging at the gate, one of the teachers came out to tell all the children it was time to get started. Robin finally, voluntarily, let go and...maybe? possibly?snapped out of it as she was turning to go in (was she actually skipping? just for one pace?)

I know kids usually do fine after the parents finally leave, and I've always been inclined to keep the goodbyes short and not worry about it, but I guess I got sucked into it this time. It's not that she was putting on an act - she was really really distressed - but I forget how fast they can shift gears sometimes. She really does like being there, I'm positive, and she's definitely getting more stimulation and learning more. They teach the kids cursive right from the outset, so even with writing, which she mastered a long time ago, she's got something new to learn.

I just hope she gets through the separation/new situation trauma before she starts getting frustrated with the school work. Before her first day we talked about how everything she had been doing up to now had been very easy for her, and was boring. She understood - or said she did - that in order to learn new things you have to try to do things you don't know yet, and that means that there will be parts you'll get wrong or not understand them.

But so far that hasn't been a problem for her. The first week she kept complaining that the work was too easy, and I kept telling her that the teacher has to learn about her, and find out what she already knows, before she can help her start learning new things. The same thing happened with the swimming: after the first day she said she had liked it, but that they made her wear "floaty things" on her arms AND her back, and they didn't believe her when she said she knew how to swim. She really wasn't buying it when I said that that's their job - to make sure the child is safe while finding out what she already knows so they can teach her new things.

So anyway, I'm not having second thoughts about the school, but Robin sure is...this week anyway. I had been thinking about starting Julia in September, and assuming that she would be asking to go by then. But this week's "I hate school and I'm NOT going" litany probably isn't helping. Of course, the one thing that Robin says would help her feel better is having a member of the family there with her, and she knows Julia would be in the same class if she went. But, too, I don't want to start Julia on a brand new experience (much newer to her than all this is to Robin, really) with the expectation that she'll be Robin's "medicine" either. That would hardly be fair to her, and it could give Robin an unrealistic view of the way things work.

She's Four (now it's official)

You know the birthday party rule: the child's age plus two = the appropriate number of guests. Maybe next year we'll get to try that out, but since Julia doesn't go to school yet, she doesn't have a pool of children to invite from, which means we invite the cousins. All the cousins. Plus the next door neighbor.

(For you sticklers: Yes, Alex is an only child. They're his cousins' kids, but I never did learn whether that makes them second or once removed.)

So we had 14 kids and, I think, 11 adults. But it went well. There is a Costa Rican Birthday Party Formula which makes things pretty easy. I've never seen it done any other way: You serve rice with chicken (all mixed together as a single dish), refried beans, potato chips and soda. You have a piñata and goody bags. You serve ice cream cones and cake.

Sometimes there are games with prizes, but with so many kids (aged, by the way, 2-11) I didn't bother with that (my official reason was that I favor cooperative/creative activites rather than competitive ones. But nobody asked.) Instead, I printed out a bunch of Dora, Blue's Clues and LazyTown coloring sheets from the Nick, Jr. website (including the picture I used for the cake design) and set them out with a stack of plain paper, pencils, markers, etc. at the table. I set the box of matchbox cars out in the playroom, along with a bunch of smallish cardboard boxes I got at PriceSmart last week to (eventually) reorganize the toys. I put the wooden train track set in a corner of the living room, and I made a bucket of bubble stuff for outside. I couldn't find the big bubble toy thing Dad brought down for our wedding (how many times have we moved since then?) but I do have the book that came with it, which included some suggestions for homemade devices and a soap recipe. A lot of the kids were able to make large bubbles using the two-straws-on-a-loop-of-yarn contraption. (I had thought that might be something an adult would have to do more as a show for them but several of the older ones got the hang of it.)

And I didn't see any bored kids at any point. With things spread out like that the only time we had a problem with crowding was at the beginning when everybody wanted to do the bubbles at once. I made a second batch of soap, which helped.

I even remembered to save out a bag of piñata stuff for the (inevitable) crying child who didn't get enough. Ironically, the crying child was the one who had gotten plenty, but resented his mother topping off his brother's bag from the extras, so maybe it backfired after all...

Yolanda, of course, made the food, and with a party full of Costa Rican mothers there's never a shortage of people to help with the serving & cleanup. We saved the presents for after everyone had gone, which ended up being a little later than anticipated because the bus never came (turns out it has a shorter schedule on Saturdays), so I made two trips down the hill to take people home.