Mardi Gras!

Bay was the first to take the plunge  .  .  .  An incredible face-painting artist

was at this year's Mardi Gras CCD kids' party at church on Sunday morning.

Another mom, painted with flowers and swirls, asked when I was going under the brush.  I though I was safe with, "I haven't been to mass, yet."  (We always attend 11:00am church immediately following the kids' CCD class.)  The friendly and fun-loving mom, however, responded, "I haven't, yet, either!"  Turns out a fair % of the congregation prayed and sang for the 1-hour church service with all sorts of colorful images on our faces, and for one grandfather -- on the top of his balding head.

Fitting.  And adorable!

She WAS actually delighted with her pink zebra facial decoration, but apparently a party, a pretty design, and a new outfit from Mom doesn't always mean cooperation or avoiding Mom's subsequent directives and consequences.  To post or not to post?  Hmm.  Every now and then a record of full reality, of the challenges, of the progress, of the work -- maybe not a bad thing.

For reasons unclear, Hunter hesitated until the last few minutes, and, in classic Hunter fashion,

worked a deal with Dad  .  .  .  If I get my face painted, then you  .  .  .

The at-home lunch conversation turned to who was powerful, strong, safe  .  . .  Jameson insisted that tigers eat zebras, to which Hunter spouted that zebras live in the African savanna, whereas tigers live in the jungles of South Asia.  After about a half-hour (during the car ride home) of delighting that she and Mama look like peacocks, Bay asked, "Do peacocks live where tigers live?"

Sadly, she learned that yes, they do.

This and That

Anna and I made a pit stop at Target (Starbucks) for a prescription (and hot beverages), and after ordering our drinks I indicated for Anna to go ahead and have a seat at a nearby table while I waited for our order to be prepared.  What a year of growth, people -- she made her way to a seat (courteous of the traffic flow of the other customers) and set napkins and spoons at her place and at mine (with which to eat the whipped cream from the drinks).  She said "please."  She said "thank you."  She didn't ask if Starbucks has ice cream.  A year ago, months ago, not all that many weeks ago, even, I would have given my right arm to have her tune in, and here we are.  Ahhhhh  .  .  .  (a momentary exhale of relief and mutual victory).

Upon the arrival home of my 38-year-old eyes (and whole self) from my eye appointment, Baylor was envious to learn I had a pair of reading glasses.  Angling for information with which to angle further, she inquired what "reading glasses" are for, exactly, and I explained they help with focusing.  Enter 2nd round of working it, Bay says "Yes, sometimes when I read and there are other people around doing stuff, it's hard for me to focus, too."

We called Anna and Jameson's first mom in Haiti today, and as my progress with learning Kreyol has been anything but progressive, it was a muttering of a few basic phrases from me, some prepared statements and basic phrases from Anna, repeated "Alo" (hello) and "Wi" (yes) from Jameson, and Anna translating loosely to me what Manman (Mama) Bonithe was saying to us and asking.  (Anna's receptive Kreyol remains in decent shape; it's producing it that proves problematic.)  At one point in the question sequence from Manman Bonithe and Jameson's "Wi," "Wi," "Wi," Anna laughed saying to me that Jameson just answered "Wi" (yes) to Bonithe's inquiry if he was being weird/silly.  I responded, then, to their first mom "Wi, e no, e wi" (yes and no and yes) -- with a laughing voice to indicate as best I could that he's not being a bad sort of silly, but definitely silly.  She laughed and laughed and laughed.  It's difficult to know another person's thoughts or feelings.  It at least seemed that we were two sister-mothers laughing together at our son.

Speaking of Jameson, he is now the big one-zero, yep, a decade old.  Haitian spaghetti, again, for the meal, chocolate cake with Grandma Jones' whipped cream icing, some gift-opening, treats to school and to the sitter's.  He's a fun one to watch at gift time, everything is an intense, "OH! Thank. You!"  He is appreciative and excited to a delightful degree. 

The scene in front of our house that greeted Anna and I when we turned to pull into the driveway  .  .  .  Baylor, goggle-protected, bent over rocks plucked from the driveway, hammer in rubber-gloved hand.  Smashing for crystals and fossils.  "Look, Mom, powder everywhere, and my new minerals book inside the house is my scientist reference, and do you see the sparkle in this one, and, and, and..."  Okay, Hermione-Ramona.

Honey

So, the kids' Valentines treats must have been a hit; I left this a.m. for a speaking engagement with a civic organization before the children had descended to the main floor, but I heard whooping and skipping about upstairs -- fairly unusual for 6:30 on a dark, wintry school morning.  And then, this is what I found upon return to the house at 8:00  .  .  .  Anna's PINK critter, Hunt's sweet turtle, Jameson's tiger, and Bay's bear all de-tagged, guarding the accompanying gifted candy, and poised deliberately for the kids' afternoon return.

Not really one much for the diamond chips heart pendant, "Every kiss belongs to Kay's" sort of manufactured syrupy love, Chad and I exchanged chocolates, and I received this sweet apparel item  .  .  .



So, Sherry, what first attracted you to Chad all those years ago?  Yes, it was his humor.  If the shirt image doesn't have you laughing a good, hearty cackle, then you have been away from YouTube far too long  .  .  .   (Language alert:  not appropriate for kids)   .  .  .  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4r7wHMg5Yjg



Evidence of Bay

The new shelves I bought for our dining room  .  .  .  two weeks ago  .  .  .  that have set empty and unstocked, unbeautified, unutilized for too many days, apparently.  So, of course, this is a natural location for a wild animal baby nursery.