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.