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.

Coming of Age in Austin

Yikes! This morning a mother of one of Lucero's classmates informed me that her son is in love with Lucero. Within his mother's earshot, said boy informed another boy that, "I'm trying not to fall in love with her, but she is so beautiful." (To which the friend replied, "That's okay, it's normal.") !!! We're talking about 5 year-olds here, folks!

I guess that's sorta cute...But, crikey, I thought I wouldn't have to worry about staving off suitors for at least 8 or 9 more years (and stave them off I shall). I mean, really! I don't remember those sort of dynamics when I was in kindergarten.

At least Lucero is no damsel in distress. Agapito and I had to suppress overt displays of pride when we were recently informed that Lucero had spit on a boy for trying to kiss her. Atta girl, Lucero!

I find myself of two minds when people comment on Lucero's beauty. On the one hand, I can't help but feel proud (though my genetic contribution be nil). On the other hand, I feel like saying "Kindly piss off while she enjoys a few more years of youthful oblivion!"

Another chapter in the lives of the young and the restless: Lucero and Rosalía's cousin, Nadin (a youthful lad of 4), spent the better part of our wedding wooing Lucero's friend, Sofia. Which is just as well, because my step-brother, sister-in-law and I were worried that Lucero and Nadin were headed for some kind of doomed love.

Meanwhile, Rosalía has been quacking. All you have to say is "Rosita, como hace un pato?" To which she replies, "Gwa, Gwa!". She can also bark "wow, wow", and meow "maaa". And to answer Joyce's question, the word known to all men (or babies on the cusp of speaking at least) is surely "da-da", which is Rosalía's label for everything. (Ok, I admit that was a shamelessly gratuitous literary reference...but I have to work them in now and again to make sure diaper cream fumes and Blues Clues [gag] haven't wiped my brain of all cultural reference points).

Rosalía's language production is definitely behind that of monolinguals her age, but that was to be expected (her mother reports with just a trace of defense). Yet, her comprehension blows my mind. I shouldn't be surprised. I took a class on this very subject and have read all the studies that document the stages of language acquisition. But still, it blows my mind to be able to say, "Rosie, go get your toothbrush from daddy and then you can come back and brush your teeth." She waddles away and returns triumphant with her little brush.

We're off to New Orleans for Thanksgiving, which I'm very excited about. New Orleans this time of year is brimming with hopeful nostalgia. Maybe it's as simple as a leftover childhood anticipation of Christmas presents and pretty lights.

For those patient enough to read through this post, I reward you with some wedding photos taken by an attendee (professional pics still to come):

Lucero's World

Lucero drew this picture tonight. Lucero is only 5 years old. I know that parents are biased, but man...check out the perspective (abstracting away from the yogic arm reach). It brings to mind "Christina's World" by Andrew Wyeth... if Tim Burton were to interpret it in his youth. The girl is wearing mittens because it's cold, Lucero informed her father. Perhaps I'm projecting too much expectation, but I wouldn't be surprised if Lucero grew up to be a professional artist. Her father is gifted (he will probably come behind and edit this out of foolish modesty), and I think he is a leading artist in an parallel universe. Now, if only I can lead her towards the more lucrative artistic professions, like graphic design. Art is food for the soul and all that jazz, but a girl's gotta feed her body as well.

Also, post to come regarding the wedding... Just waiting on the pictures from the photographer so I can dazzle my readers (all 3 of you) with how pretty we all looked!

Sincerely yours,
Jessica Bridget White Sustaíta!