When two people love each other very very much

Gulp. As I was putting Lucero to bed, she asked me for a glass of water. Normal enough. I came back with the water, she gulped it down, and casually asked, "How do you get a baby?" I said, anxiety rising, "What?". She says, "When you want a baby, how do you get it?" I told her I'd tell her tomorrow. She said, brightly, "okay". Now I am off to Book People to get "It's Not the Stork!"

Ode to Toddlers

Toddlers (and children more generally) have an uncanny ability to sense when we are at their mercy. Such occasions include when there are other parents nearby who we assume are better, happier, more patient than we are; when their teachers or grandparents are nearby; and in any number of public spaces where you don't want to make a scene.

Take the DMV, for example. It is a truth universally acknowledged that having to go to the DMV is one of the more soul-crushing errands (2nd to sitting in the waiting room of the Social Security office or Emergency Room). And it seems that no matter how deeply you paid attention to the DMV website, you will lack a necessary document or method of payment and be forced to leave and return.

So why would one choose to make the DMV more difficult by bringing a cranky toddler? On the unfounded hope that this time will be different. That they will occupy themselves, quietly and contentedly with their doll. Half way through the line I smelled the pungent indicator that Rosie had done her business. Unwilling to lose my place, I let Rosie, and all who stood near, suffer the funk. Naturally, Rosie had to broadcast her situation by yelling, "Tiene kaka, tiene crap, mommy!" (I made the grievous error of teaching Rosie the word "crap" a few months ago, because it was really really funny, thinking she'd promptly forget. Nope.). Then, after 20 minutes of sitting in the waiting room, my number was called. Of course Rosie decides to play coy, and refuses to accompany me to the not-very-nice woman at the license-procuring counter. I tried the exciting adventure tactic, "Rosie, come see! There's something fun over here by counter! Let's go see what it is!" I tried the scare tactic, "Hurry up! We have to leave this area! Quick, we have to get out of here!" (I know, I know, that's totally messed up). I tried stern mommy, "You better mind me, Rosie. I'm not playing." She laughed at me. Then I decided to just go over and put her over my shoulder, her inevitable shrieks be damned. That's when she fled, at the unprecedented speed of a cheetah. Like, I really had to work to catch up. She's zig-zagging this way and that, laughing at me. If that weren't humiliating enough, the shirt I'm wearing is riding up to expose my back fat. At least the others in the waiting room got a good and audible laugh out of our game of tag. After the third call for my number, I caught her, whereupon she becomes a limp and screaming noodle. The lady at the license-procuring counter was totally humorless. The whole time I'm holding Rosie and she's being an absolute pill. Stealing my phone, jerking my glasses off my nose, smearing the sight test lenses with mysteriously wet fingers, threatening to raise hell if I don't comply with whatever capricious wish tickles her fancy. Finally, I submitted my new glasses. Here is the moment preserved in a photo, a photo which I took in yet another attempt to further entertain and pacify.




I do love my daughters more than anything in the world. I would absolutely kill for them, die for them, and all that good stuff. But still, they can be pains in the butt!

Hot Fun in the Summertime

Instead of yet another post filled with apologia for being so remiss, here is a quick and dirty pictorial account of summer '09 in the White-Sustaíta and Sustaíta family; the summer was and ever shall be bookended by Rosalía's and Lucero's birthdays. Naturally I have no pictures from either celebrations, as of yet, and those pics will come in another post.

First, my dear friend Jenny Doussan sent gifts for the girls, including some most excellent sunglasses for Rosalía. Rosie wore, and chewed on, these sunglasses every waking moment, until they were totally obliterated.

We also went on a wine tour, for the second year in a row. It was great for two reasons. First, we had some really nice red wines, much to my surprise. I've heard that the climate in Central Texas is not conducive to a thick skin, and therefore the red wines are weak. I'm out of my depth here, and I fear Sarah Vandendriessche, my wine afficianado, will scoff at my feeble attempts to talk wine. The other reason our jaunt was so fun was Mandola's Vineyard and restaurant. Their vineyard is beautiful and they have a lovely restaurant. Here are some pics taken by Tia Valerie.


Our next adventure was our trip to South Padre Island and the Treviño family reunion in Harlingen. For the reunion the girls were decked out in very cute traditional Mexican regalia. At South Padre we enjoyed the beach and dolphin-watching boat ride, the majority of which Rosie slept through.
We drove down in my jalopy of a car, the VW golf. The AC is still working, just barely. It blows out pieces of black styrofoam, whose provenance and original purpose is uncertain. I like this photo of Agapito and me- not bad for an i-Phone!


Finally, I went to the Summer Institute held by the Linguistic Society of America. It was a three week intensive course held in Berkeley in July. There are worse places to go during an Austin summer; the average temperature was a heavenly 72. Agapito and the girls came out for 9 days in the middle of my stay. We went to San Francisco and got the girls umbrellas in Chinatown.



(quite cute, in my humble opinion)

We also went to that super winding road in SF. I think I was more excited by it than the girls were. Oh well.


We also went to Yosemite with the girls' cousins. All of the kids played and swimmed in the icy cold water without flinching. Why do we lose this ability as we get older?




Pictured here are Elijah, Rosita, and Lucero. The resemblance between Rosita, who is the daughter of Agapito's sister, Rosie, and my Rosalía is remarkable. (Rosie and Rosita are both Rosalías as well, and there are yet two other Rosalías in Agapito's family.)

During Agapito and the girls' visit, we stayed at Enrique and Lily's place, where the girls had a great time with their cousins, Savannah and Alisa.



Pictures from the girls' birthdays and fourth of July to come!

Spring

Where on Earth to begin? I will pass over sad topics, in the interest of bloggish levity. First, I give you pictures. Here is a picture from "The Daily Juice", just down the street. It is where Lucero and I used to go many a hot summer evening with a very young Rosie nestled in a sling. Lucero would get watermelon water and I'd get a billion calorie smoothie to help nourish my body for the 500 calories I burned breast-feeding.



Here is our biker chick, complete with a rose tatoo.



And here is an indignant Rosie at Amy's Ice Cream, with rainbow sprinkles stuck to her face with snot. She is pissed off because I smooshed a few extra on for effect-- exploitation at its finest.




And here are the girls sliding down a slide.



Some of the latest news in the White-Sustaíta clan--

A couple of week's back we went to the Austin Rodeo, in order to, as Agapito put it, "Look at livestock." We also went in order to eat over-priced and questionable food and to ride unsafe rides. I also spent a lot of time privately pondering the life of a carnie, and wondering if I'd ever be able to find a zen-like acceptance if I were condemned to such a life. Anyway, Rosalía had a terrible time. We started by watching a baby pig race. I guess baby pigs aren't so small and unthreatening to a 32" toddler. You'd think they were wild pre-historic boars by looking at her. Then we tried the carousel. No good. Rosalía was hysterical. The music, the mirrors, the bobbing horses, all terrifying to her. Then we decided to spare Rosalía and just let her watch Lucero and me ride mini-roller coasters. Rosalía wept, thinking that the cars were out of control and going to crash any minute. Seeing me scream didn't help matters. Agapito kept gesturing for me to smile, but I was too busy trying not to barf on Lucero.

But the creme de la creme of this rodeo was hearing Lucero curse for the first time. While eating undeniably tasty corn dogs, I mention to Lucero that she should drink some water. She says, "Yeah, I haven't had any liquid this whole damn day." Yep, Lucero said "damn". It took everything in me to not burst out laughing while explaining that this word was waaay bad. It was very dear, very funny. At least it was "damn" and not any of the vulgarities that slip out of my mouth when people cut me off on the highway. So now I'm working hard to replace my garbage mouth with "dickens," "by george", "crikey", etc.

We have moved from Hyde Park to the UT family apartments, back on Lake Austin Blvd. It's good to be back in this community. These apartments are even better than the ones we lived in before. There are children everywhere, and they are from all over the world.

Although the apartments themselves have an institutional quality (replete with linoleum floors), our kitchen is big enough to accommodate my antique side-board (a recent acquisition that's been in my family since the 1830s!) and our kitchen table. The kitchen has a sliding door that looks out onto a lovely communal courtyard (in which I am determined to play croquet and bocce-- affectations or not). The first day we moved in we heard a rapping on the sliding door, only to find two adorable girls from Argentina looking for Lucero.

We had our first sleep-over visitors. Agapito's cousin, Enrique, has just left after visiting with his wife, Lily, and their adorable daughters, Savannah and Alyssa. We had an awesome time. The kids got along amazingly well (as did the parents!). Lily and I had a fun time roasting our husbands. I found that the usual bones of marital contention became comical in the company of friends.

Lucero will not be able to remain at her elementary school, despite our many attempts and appeals to the school board to let her stay. Our dilemma is that we want her near the spanish immersion aftercare program, because her Spanish is suffering. But the other nearby schools aren't super awesome.

Okay, so for the exciting news. Agapito and I have decided it's a good time for me to adopt Lucero. I thought it might not be that emotional, given that Lucero and I have been together for a few years and I have always emphasized that I will never leave her and that I love her more than infinity. So, what's in a legality, right? Wrong! It's very emotional. It's had a powerful impact on both of us. I had no idea, so that is very special for us. I've heard that writing down "I love you" for your child is very reassuring; if you write it down and put it on the wall, it creates a deeper feeling of security. Maybe the material act of adoption works the same way (like marrying even if you live with someone and have kids). It was hard to convey "legality" and "official" to Lucero, so I explained to her that everyone would know I was her mom, even the president of the United States. She has a number of friends who are adopted, so I think her understanding of the significance is because of them.

I didn't know that I was going to be so affected by adoption either. Maybe because in the back of mind I know that, right now, I am legally her "step-mom". Ugh! Let's face it, Disney has done nothing good for the image of step-mom, especially when a child's birth mom has passed away. If I'm her mom and I'm reprimanding her, it's because I love her and want to raise her right. If I'm her step-mom reprimanding her, I'm evil! Wow, I didn't realize I felt this way until I wrote it down. I spend so much time as an anthropologist, deconstructing every social institution. But as ever, there is no escape!

I recently realized that Rosalía is now about the same age as Lucero was when I met her. So, for fun, here is a picture of Lucero at 21 months, followed by a couple from her second birthday.

Keepin' up with the Hybrids

I have been putting off updating the blog for a few reasons, not least of which is the pressure I feel to write something brilliant to make up for the lapse. In place of brilliance, I give you the very cute pictures above.

There's a lot going on right now. We are moving, yet again, at the end of February. It's back to UT apartments for us, but saving a heap of money without losing space. I am excited to return to a community of grad students with kids. Let's face it, it's nice to be around similar people. It will be great for the girls to be around kids whose families value knowledge and culture but don't necessarily have a lot of money. As lovely as I find Hyde Park, it's a tad precious. And all the money around here that doesn't think it's money is really annoying. What's especially irksome is the way that having money makes people think that luxuries are essential items. Piano lessons and hand-carved organic fill-in-the-blank are not essential, people!

Nonetheless, we are trying to keep Lucero at her current elementary school, despite the fact that they don't allow people who live out of the district to attend. I remain hopeful, but if she can't stay, it's not so bad. I worry about her growing up with wealthy kids (read: upper middle class). Some of her classmates live in mini-mansions. I hate to think that as she gets older, she'll worry that her clothes come from Target instead of Nordstrom. I used to envy kids whose parents got them clothes at Mervyn's, and I was embarrassed to wear second-hand corduroy pants long before they'd made a comeback (cue the mournful violins). Rather than using those memories to justify spoiling my kids, I'd rather bring them up around people who don't overemphasize superficialities. Basically, I'm looking for a utopic and egalitarian community sans hippies and religious fanatics...

A friend from Europe once said that Americans are obsessed with talking about how poor they were growing up, even if they weren't. I think it's true. Even people who grew up with money have to defend themselves by talking about how hard their parents worked to make the money they have. That annoys me. A lot of people work really hard and they're still poor. I wonder why I seethe with class rage, still. Right now it's particularly sharp. Must be those bail-outs. I just don't see why those Wall Street jerks can't be forced to live on minimum wage. Sorry bud, you gotta move to Queens and live like the majority of us.

To be fair, even if many of Lucero's classmates come from "comfortable" homes, at least their folks are liberal money. That's central Austin for you, a big cuddly lovefest of liberal money. What's so wrong with that? Why do I feel hostile towards it all? I think I'm the only progressive liberal who isn't basking in the afterglow of Obama's election.

In other news, Agapito is in Mexico for the week. His younger brother, Danny, was hit by a motorcycle and we're waiting to see what happens. What else is there to say other than life is filled with suffering, y'know? (and other inspiring quotes for my daughters). I don't believe in interventionist prayer, but here's hoping things turn out all right.

Rosalía was dragging Agapito's work satchel around the housing and saying "Papa" yesterday morning. It was sad. I miss him.

I'm going to distract myself with an inane tv show. I've watched "Grey's Anatomy" for the last 2 nights. What a terrible show! All of that mugging and dime store philisophical reflection. And they manage to trivialize most every major life event with wry grins and annoying xylophones in the soundtrack. "Scrubs" and "House" are superior. And yet, the melodrama of "Grey's Anatomy" distracts me enough until I fall asleep.