So, our car has just been stolen. We parked it at 2 right in front of the condo portaria and went out at 9 and it's not there. O Maridão has gone to the special office where you report that your car has been stolen, since obviously when you have no car because it has been stolen it is so efficient to have to go to an office to report it instead of having officers come and take the report. The porteiro is pretty sure it wasn't even there at 5:30 when he got here. The neigherbors across the street whose house we parked it in front of have a camera, but they just happened to turn it off today because of something having to do with TV signal, so no help there. Also, there are security guards in front of the two office/businesses a stone throw's distance away (and with a full view of our car at one of them), but no one saw anything. Even more noteable is that for some reason we brought in many things from the car today, like the car seat that we are borrowing from a former student, and O Maridão's expensive sunglasses that live in the glove compartment usually. And every time I go to type the word "sigh" I keep writing "sign." I wonder what it all means.
Sigh.
sábado, março 24, 2007
quinta-feira, março 22, 2007
domingo, março 11, 2007
I had noticed some time ago that the deaf seem to flock to Bompreço. Every time I go through there, since I was pregnant, I have noticed lots of gestures being used with expressive eyes and faces that leave less to wonder about than one might think. When I first noticed it happening, it was easy to pick out who was deaf and who was not. Two or three people would be engaged in some intense conversation that I had no part of other than blatenly staring at them. Now, all the cashiers and baggers seemed to be well versed and easily communicate without words. It's hard to tell who really has no other way to express themselves. Either the deaf and mute are flocking to Bompreço, or there is some kind of training program going on. Or it could be both. Apparently there are laws requiring the hiring of the handicapped here (just like in the States), and low and behold - they are being followed!
sábado, março 10, 2007
I have come to the conclusion that my lack of posting is not due to my lack of time (although actually turning on the computer and writing something before I fall asleep with Ju could make a difference), nor is it due to my attention being constantly diverted to other habitants of this house. It seems my inspiration to write comes only when I am far away from the computer, or at school, where the computer is even slower than this one (hard to believe, I know!). It's hard for me to feel disaplined enough to sit down and write when I feel like it - there always seems to be something else I'll do online and forget about it. Or worse, I am out somewhere and think "I will write about this today" and then by the time I get home it is only a vague inclination and lacking in all the inspiration that I felt at the time the idea was concieved.
For instance, last weekend was a lunar eclipse. I cannot remember the last time I saw one really, not when I knew that was what I was looking at. I had totally forgotten about it until someone else at the party I was at pointed out that the moon was doing something funny. Then it took us another half hour of observation to convince the rest of the guests that it was in fact an eclipse and not just clouds or phases of the moon. I was so inspired to watch it, but at the same time thinking "well, there will be another one in August, so really, why bother." I tried to recall how we had watched eclipses in the States - I couldn't remember. I imagined everyone would be out on their porches, gazing at the sky, watching in awe in the cold (probably very far from the truth). And then I imagined that people around the world were watching it with us. And then we left the party and driving home I saw that almost no one on the street (and there were a LOT of people out, being a Saturday night and all) seemed even remotely aware of what was going on. No one was looking. Like comming back to reality, by the time we got home, I had forgotten it, and so I wrote nothing.
Ju has become a three word sentence maker. I think I did post that before. He also suddenly has the ability to recognize shapes. He has a turtle-put-the-cups-in-the-same-shaped-holes-toy that I got for him when he turned 1 because he was so into putting things inside of other things. He never figured out that the star shaped cup goes in the star shaped hole, the flower shaped cup going in the flower shaped hole, etc. For half a year he played with this thing off and on. The last time he had it out was in December. Suddenly on Thursday night he asked to play with it and so I got it out. He immediately put all the cups in the correct holes. Just like that. Suddenly he can do it. I almost cried I was so excited.
For instance, last weekend was a lunar eclipse. I cannot remember the last time I saw one really, not when I knew that was what I was looking at. I had totally forgotten about it until someone else at the party I was at pointed out that the moon was doing something funny. Then it took us another half hour of observation to convince the rest of the guests that it was in fact an eclipse and not just clouds or phases of the moon. I was so inspired to watch it, but at the same time thinking "well, there will be another one in August, so really, why bother." I tried to recall how we had watched eclipses in the States - I couldn't remember. I imagined everyone would be out on their porches, gazing at the sky, watching in awe in the cold (probably very far from the truth). And then I imagined that people around the world were watching it with us. And then we left the party and driving home I saw that almost no one on the street (and there were a LOT of people out, being a Saturday night and all) seemed even remotely aware of what was going on. No one was looking. Like comming back to reality, by the time we got home, I had forgotten it, and so I wrote nothing.
Ju has become a three word sentence maker. I think I did post that before. He also suddenly has the ability to recognize shapes. He has a turtle-put-the-cups-in-the-same-shaped-holes-toy that I got for him when he turned 1 because he was so into putting things inside of other things. He never figured out that the star shaped cup goes in the star shaped hole, the flower shaped cup going in the flower shaped hole, etc. For half a year he played with this thing off and on. The last time he had it out was in December. Suddenly on Thursday night he asked to play with it and so I got it out. He immediately put all the cups in the correct holes. Just like that. Suddenly he can do it. I almost cried I was so excited.
sábado, março 03, 2007
"não não ah-oo gato" = don't put water on the cat
"pum bapeesh" = I farted on the crayons
Ju has begun to draw lines, very nice strait ones, with his crayons. He has been coloring figures for a while, but now he will hand you a crayon and tell you "gato" if he wants you to draw a cat so he can color it. We made a very nice drawing on Thursday night that I took to school on Friday to show off and display. Like all people with kids, or with new-anything-living (this includes puppies, cats, nieces, nephews...) every new development is an amazing step into the world. Actually, having kids makes you want to do a degree in child development, just so you can compare "yes, he did this, no not this...." etc.
The weather here has taken a turn for the "winter-like" a little early this year. Usually this rain/sun/blow/hot/cold all in the same half hour confusion doesn't start until at least April. I don't mind it unless it keeps the kids inside at school and they turn into loud little bouncey monsters because of lack of running space. Also, Ju is watching an absurd amount of TV because I can't take him for a long walk in the rain. His obsession has moved from "Cars" to "The Lion King," until yesterday when I brought home a DVD of "Bear in the Big Blue House" about potty training (innate messages can't hurt, right?) that he seems to be enjoying quite a bit. He likes to watch things that he can identify and say the names of the animals or objects - there is a "mah-oosh"(mouse), a "moon," and he seems to enjoy the shadow puppet part. Even now he is trying to call my attention from the computer to watch the beginning part where the bear sniffs you. So cute.
"pum bapeesh" = I farted on the crayons
Ju has begun to draw lines, very nice strait ones, with his crayons. He has been coloring figures for a while, but now he will hand you a crayon and tell you "gato" if he wants you to draw a cat so he can color it. We made a very nice drawing on Thursday night that I took to school on Friday to show off and display. Like all people with kids, or with new-anything-living (this includes puppies, cats, nieces, nephews...) every new development is an amazing step into the world. Actually, having kids makes you want to do a degree in child development, just so you can compare "yes, he did this, no not this...." etc.
The weather here has taken a turn for the "winter-like" a little early this year. Usually this rain/sun/blow/hot/cold all in the same half hour confusion doesn't start until at least April. I don't mind it unless it keeps the kids inside at school and they turn into loud little bouncey monsters because of lack of running space. Also, Ju is watching an absurd amount of TV because I can't take him for a long walk in the rain. His obsession has moved from "Cars" to "The Lion King," until yesterday when I brought home a DVD of "Bear in the Big Blue House" about potty training (innate messages can't hurt, right?) that he seems to be enjoying quite a bit. He likes to watch things that he can identify and say the names of the animals or objects - there is a "mah-oosh"(mouse), a "moon," and he seems to enjoy the shadow puppet part. Even now he is trying to call my attention from the computer to watch the beginning part where the bear sniffs you. So cute.
quarta-feira, fevereiro 21, 2007
domingo, fevereiro 18, 2007
My first year of Carnaval I was 7 months pregnant, so I didn't get to do much. My second year, I was breast feeding, so I didn't do much either. This year I finally went out and did the pipoca thing, and then went to a camarote (which we got for free). We went to Farol da Barra, which only after we returned did my husband inform me is one of the most "dangerous" places to go in the pipoca, walking from shopping Barra all the way there.
My first impression was how bad it smelled. There was the highly potent smell of xixi everywhere, along with sweat, B.O., and garbage smells, and the over powering exhaust from the Trios which gave me a headache all of yesterday. We parked illegally outside of Shopping Barra, where the guarda carro simpley moved the SETE cone down the street a few feet to make room for our car, insisting that if there was no cone, there was no problem (this only works in Brasil). He then insisted on being paid R$10 for the service of moving the cone. We gave him R$5 with the understanding that if "SETE gets us, we will find you."
On the way to the main circut, we walked down a back road where some guy had set up a large speaker and microphone, and whilst painting a large picture to illustrate his points with blacklight paint, was lecturing about Jesus and savoirs and the family love and who knows what else. I was mostly amused by the use of the black light and paint. There were also numerous churrascos going on - who knows what that meat is....
Out on the main circut, we walked through the crowds, dancing as the blocos came by. I don't have cheap tennis shoes, so I just wore some strap on sandals and right off the back my toe was wounded from a passing sharp object which might have been a shoe or might have been a beer can, we'll never know. It would have been worth it to buy some new tennies just to cover my feet to keep all the nastyness of the street from being splattered on my poor feet (the sandals are still in the slop sink next to the washer and will remain there until I can soak them in disinfectant). We had quite a walk ahead of us, through the masses of sweaty smelly people. There were numerous fights (people start them in the crowds to take your guard down so they can rob you) but we some how managed to not get caught in them (but just barely). I quickly learned to deal with the "ickeyness" when squished up against fellow partiers because of a passing bloco or a fight. Somewhere along the way, a couple with the same camarote shirts found us and asked us if they could walk with us to not be alone on the way to the building, which I thought was kind of paranoid and funny (until after when O Maridão mentioned that he had not gone to the Farol in many years because of the danger factor), but we quickly lost them during one of the fights.
On the way down, we passed several blocos without trios, mostly for men it seems. One was called "the towels" and all the members (men) wore pink towels and shower caps. Another was called "the pajamas" where all the members (all men, again) wore white and blue striped pajamas and night caps, some carrying teddy bears, and allowing only women who they seemed to think were attractive inside their ropes with them. It was quite amuzing to see.
We were on the hunt for Gilberto Gil's bloco (Expresso 2222 or something like that), where we were to try to find one of our friends who said she would be following it. Within the madness, we accidently found a different group of our friends, a collegue from my husband's work, and the uncle of his namordada from when he was 15, all following 2222. We walked with them for a while, but I was starting to get sick from being so close to the exhaust pipe, and everytime the truck would stop, the crowd kept moving forward and we would always end up right next to it, burning my legs and feet. My ears were really starting to hurt from being so close to the speakers when we finally decided to go up into the camarote (Camarote Oceania) which was right across from the light house.
The camarote was much more controlled. There was a live band with Marcos... de dois>? Can't quite remember his name. And some woman that we didn't know the name of but who reminded me a bit of Lauren Hill, mostly a rock/rap kind of genra. Apparently this was the camarote of the rich, all drinks and everything included, and there was body painting, hair braiding, Haagen Das Ice cream (!!!), champagne... Also, I swear I was the shortest one there. Rich people are tall here, I have noticed this at school too - all the woman are much much taller than me, so much that I almost feel like I'm back in the States. Decendents of immigrants, so I have been told. We drank red bull and whiskey (vire fan!) and watched the blocos for only a little while. Because of all the lights, there was a huge population of gigantic moths (like bigger than my hand) on the outside of the building, and they kept comming inside and flying around over the band. After the band finished, there was some typical rap music which slowly turned into techno (have you noticed this always happens at parties - people are so drunk by that time they don't even listen to the music anymore, just the beat and keep going and going like energizer bunnies). By the time we left to walk back to the car, there were only a couple hundred left in the streets, some people cleaning up trash, and a random vendor or two trying to sell their last couple of geladas for the evening.
One interesting thing I noted was that in the midst of all that mess and all those people from all over the city, we found one of the women who hangs out on the corner near our house (right near where I was robbed) collecting cans. She is the mother of Diva, who I have mentioned before I believe. She told us Diva was out there somewhere, running around with her friends. Small world. No matter where you go in this city, you always see familiar people. Only in Bahia...
To see the view of where we were, check out this link. To choose another view of the circut, click here.
My first impression was how bad it smelled. There was the highly potent smell of xixi everywhere, along with sweat, B.O., and garbage smells, and the over powering exhaust from the Trios which gave me a headache all of yesterday. We parked illegally outside of Shopping Barra, where the guarda carro simpley moved the SETE cone down the street a few feet to make room for our car, insisting that if there was no cone, there was no problem (this only works in Brasil). He then insisted on being paid R$10 for the service of moving the cone. We gave him R$5 with the understanding that if "SETE gets us, we will find you."
On the way to the main circut, we walked down a back road where some guy had set up a large speaker and microphone, and whilst painting a large picture to illustrate his points with blacklight paint, was lecturing about Jesus and savoirs and the family love and who knows what else. I was mostly amused by the use of the black light and paint. There were also numerous churrascos going on - who knows what that meat is....
Out on the main circut, we walked through the crowds, dancing as the blocos came by. I don't have cheap tennis shoes, so I just wore some strap on sandals and right off the back my toe was wounded from a passing sharp object which might have been a shoe or might have been a beer can, we'll never know. It would have been worth it to buy some new tennies just to cover my feet to keep all the nastyness of the street from being splattered on my poor feet (the sandals are still in the slop sink next to the washer and will remain there until I can soak them in disinfectant). We had quite a walk ahead of us, through the masses of sweaty smelly people. There were numerous fights (people start them in the crowds to take your guard down so they can rob you) but we some how managed to not get caught in them (but just barely). I quickly learned to deal with the "ickeyness" when squished up against fellow partiers because of a passing bloco or a fight. Somewhere along the way, a couple with the same camarote shirts found us and asked us if they could walk with us to not be alone on the way to the building, which I thought was kind of paranoid and funny (until after when O Maridão mentioned that he had not gone to the Farol in many years because of the danger factor), but we quickly lost them during one of the fights.
On the way down, we passed several blocos without trios, mostly for men it seems. One was called "the towels" and all the members (men) wore pink towels and shower caps. Another was called "the pajamas" where all the members (all men, again) wore white and blue striped pajamas and night caps, some carrying teddy bears, and allowing only women who they seemed to think were attractive inside their ropes with them. It was quite amuzing to see.
We were on the hunt for Gilberto Gil's bloco (Expresso 2222 or something like that), where we were to try to find one of our friends who said she would be following it. Within the madness, we accidently found a different group of our friends, a collegue from my husband's work, and the uncle of his namordada from when he was 15, all following 2222. We walked with them for a while, but I was starting to get sick from being so close to the exhaust pipe, and everytime the truck would stop, the crowd kept moving forward and we would always end up right next to it, burning my legs and feet. My ears were really starting to hurt from being so close to the speakers when we finally decided to go up into the camarote (Camarote Oceania) which was right across from the light house.
The camarote was much more controlled. There was a live band with Marcos... de dois>? Can't quite remember his name. And some woman that we didn't know the name of but who reminded me a bit of Lauren Hill, mostly a rock/rap kind of genra. Apparently this was the camarote of the rich, all drinks and everything included, and there was body painting, hair braiding, Haagen Das Ice cream (!!!), champagne... Also, I swear I was the shortest one there. Rich people are tall here, I have noticed this at school too - all the woman are much much taller than me, so much that I almost feel like I'm back in the States. Decendents of immigrants, so I have been told. We drank red bull and whiskey (vire fan!) and watched the blocos for only a little while. Because of all the lights, there was a huge population of gigantic moths (like bigger than my hand) on the outside of the building, and they kept comming inside and flying around over the band. After the band finished, there was some typical rap music which slowly turned into techno (have you noticed this always happens at parties - people are so drunk by that time they don't even listen to the music anymore, just the beat and keep going and going like energizer bunnies). By the time we left to walk back to the car, there were only a couple hundred left in the streets, some people cleaning up trash, and a random vendor or two trying to sell their last couple of geladas for the evening.
One interesting thing I noted was that in the midst of all that mess and all those people from all over the city, we found one of the women who hangs out on the corner near our house (right near where I was robbed) collecting cans. She is the mother of Diva, who I have mentioned before I believe. She told us Diva was out there somewhere, running around with her friends. Small world. No matter where you go in this city, you always see familiar people. Only in Bahia...
To see the view of where we were, check out this link. To choose another view of the circut, click here.
sexta-feira, fevereiro 16, 2007
Ju has started doing what appears to be make-believe types of play - biting his crackers into car shapes and then driving them around his high chair tray, and making finger puppets talk to each other (in Ju-language) during his bathtime. Of course, it's hard to tell what's going on in his head while he does this, but it appears to be a fantasy play type of thing.
boon = balloon (I think this was my word for it too when I was little).
Carnaval has officially begun here Bahia. Actually, it officially begins on Wednesday, and the insanity of traffic around the city has shown it. If one tries to pass by AeroClub, you have to contend with "unofficial" abadá sellers, who are rumoured to steal back the black market shirts they just sold you as you walk back to your car or home or bus stop as the case may be. There a long lines of people selling beer along the Orla where there was no beer before. There are confettie, streamers, and carnaval masks litering the ground and decorating homes and stores. And there is the rain. The ever present rain, which according to the forecast, will be here all the way through the week long insanity, soaking everything, turning the confettie into paper-machê muck all over, mixed with xixi and god knows what else. Not that I was going to go out in it before, but I certainly don't plan to now. Some year I will really experience Carnaval, but it seems this year is out.
Carnaval has officially begun here Bahia. Actually, it officially begins on Wednesday, and the insanity of traffic around the city has shown it. If one tries to pass by AeroClub, you have to contend with "unofficial" abadá sellers, who are rumoured to steal back the black market shirts they just sold you as you walk back to your car or home or bus stop as the case may be. There a long lines of people selling beer along the Orla where there was no beer before. There are confettie, streamers, and carnaval masks litering the ground and decorating homes and stores. And there is the rain. The ever present rain, which according to the forecast, will be here all the way through the week long insanity, soaking everything, turning the confettie into paper-machê muck all over, mixed with xixi and god knows what else. Not that I was going to go out in it before, but I certainly don't plan to now. Some year I will really experience Carnaval, but it seems this year is out.
sábado, fevereiro 10, 2007
I have begun walking home from work twice a week with a couple of friends. I can get to my door in about 2 hours walking, and about 1 hour and 45 minutes if I jog a bit in the last stretch. It's hot, sweaty, and salty, but definately enjoyable and I feel much better now that I am definatetively doing something to get my body back, almost two years after Ju was born. We have noticed some of the same people at the same points in the route, also walking to one place or another. We chat about work and being married/in relationships and how alchohol is essencial in the kitchen. Real girl stuff I guess, something I had missed without realizing I was missing it. It also is helping me get over my fear of walking around by myself (although it is much easier since I have nothing on me that would make me a target, except if someone decided they wanted to steal my shoes), making me less of a reculse in the afternoons.
domingo, fevereiro 04, 2007
sábado, fevereiro 03, 2007
tee tee - leite = milk (the powdered kind) to be eaten by the spoonful and in no other form
eh-peh-een = airplane : just repeated this morning
oh-pee = open
Ju has been testing his limits these days and is learning about "time-out," which seems to be very effective in some cases, but not so much when he can't quite make the connection that what he did was not allowed or not. Most of these cases are with regard to things he has not been punished for doing before - not putting away crayons, not staying out of the kitchen, running around with food in his hands, etc. With things like turning on the computer when told not to, playing with the television buttons when told not to, and wiggling on the lap, it has been pretty effective. Half the time O Maridão thinks I am being too harsh, and Ju knows this and calls "papai" when he doesn't get what he wants from "mamãe." I see it as his training so he's not one of those problem kids in preschool (I have so many).
eh-peh-een = airplane : just repeated this morning
oh-pee = open
Ju has been testing his limits these days and is learning about "time-out," which seems to be very effective in some cases, but not so much when he can't quite make the connection that what he did was not allowed or not. Most of these cases are with regard to things he has not been punished for doing before - not putting away crayons, not staying out of the kitchen, running around with food in his hands, etc. With things like turning on the computer when told not to, playing with the television buttons when told not to, and wiggling on the lap, it has been pretty effective. Half the time O Maridão thinks I am being too harsh, and Ju knows this and calls "papai" when he doesn't get what he wants from "mamãe." I see it as his training so he's not one of those problem kids in preschool (I have so many).
sábado, janeiro 27, 2007
sexta-feira, janeiro 19, 2007
"bee bee" - baby (said earlier today in reference to my fat gut; he seems to think there is a baby in there)
About a week ago Ju was "baptized" as Bahian, or so it has been called:
We spent the afternoon at Porto da Barra with some friends and decided to stop by Dinha for an Acarjé and a beer on the way home. It was a rather large group of us, five adults and four kids of various ages, so we sat on the outer ring of tables and got several plates of Acarajé, Abará, Vatapá, and camarão to split amongst us. Along with the quantity of food came a small plastic cup (think Jell-O shooters) of "pimenta" or very strong pepper sauce. I have never tasted this stuff (for food allergy reasons, for those of you who don't know), but every Bahian claims it is the hottest hot sauce that exists, that eating it proves your manhood, and all sorts of related claims.
O Maridão was nice enough to take the Dinha shift as the Ju lap, so I was able to relax a bit while eating. Ju ate boiled peanuts and raw tomato from the Acarajé plates and seemed quite satisfied with his food. As a habit, he always wants to grab and examine everything on the table, including beer bottles, trash, peanut shells, etc, and I saw that he was eyeing the small plastic cup, but he didn't reach for it.
After about an hour, I decided it was time to pee. I got up and informed the table and then debated with O Maridão as to which bar I should do the honor of peeing in. Ju seized this opportunity to investigate the cup, and although I caught him in mid swallow, the damage was done. He screamed bloody murder and all the surrounding tables turned our way, most immediately realizing what had happened and yelling suggestions like "make him drink water!" which we were already trying to force him to do. We managed to get water in and out of his mouth to wash it out a couple of times, but then he refused to open it (I suppose because water doesn't actually help this sort of thing, but rather acts in moving the offending oils around the mouth and actually making it worse - but try telling that to any one around here...). Normally a piece of bread or a glass or milk would be ideal in this case, but there was none to be had in the middle of a bunch of outdoor bars.
Then came the suggestion to get a cup of sugar and feed it to him. Ju resisted at first, until I managed to force a fingerfull into his pursed lips, and then immediately fell silent, allowing me to finger feed him most of the cup until he took over and ate ever last grain. He would have been a good ant target by the time we left, but he seemed to have recovered okay. That is until we tried to take the little cup of sugar out of his hands.
So let this be a lesson to you all. Of what, I just don't know right now. I have had enough trouble getting him to eat right this entire break, made worse by irregular schedules and vacationing nanny, now we have introduced little cups of sugar into the mix as the "cure" for something. At least he still eats pure wheatgerm...
About a week ago Ju was "baptized" as Bahian, or so it has been called:
We spent the afternoon at Porto da Barra with some friends and decided to stop by Dinha for an Acarjé and a beer on the way home. It was a rather large group of us, five adults and four kids of various ages, so we sat on the outer ring of tables and got several plates of Acarajé, Abará, Vatapá, and camarão to split amongst us. Along with the quantity of food came a small plastic cup (think Jell-O shooters) of "pimenta" or very strong pepper sauce. I have never tasted this stuff (for food allergy reasons, for those of you who don't know), but every Bahian claims it is the hottest hot sauce that exists, that eating it proves your manhood, and all sorts of related claims.
O Maridão was nice enough to take the Dinha shift as the Ju lap, so I was able to relax a bit while eating. Ju ate boiled peanuts and raw tomato from the Acarajé plates and seemed quite satisfied with his food. As a habit, he always wants to grab and examine everything on the table, including beer bottles, trash, peanut shells, etc, and I saw that he was eyeing the small plastic cup, but he didn't reach for it.
After about an hour, I decided it was time to pee. I got up and informed the table and then debated with O Maridão as to which bar I should do the honor of peeing in. Ju seized this opportunity to investigate the cup, and although I caught him in mid swallow, the damage was done. He screamed bloody murder and all the surrounding tables turned our way, most immediately realizing what had happened and yelling suggestions like "make him drink water!" which we were already trying to force him to do. We managed to get water in and out of his mouth to wash it out a couple of times, but then he refused to open it (I suppose because water doesn't actually help this sort of thing, but rather acts in moving the offending oils around the mouth and actually making it worse - but try telling that to any one around here...). Normally a piece of bread or a glass or milk would be ideal in this case, but there was none to be had in the middle of a bunch of outdoor bars.
Then came the suggestion to get a cup of sugar and feed it to him. Ju resisted at first, until I managed to force a fingerfull into his pursed lips, and then immediately fell silent, allowing me to finger feed him most of the cup until he took over and ate ever last grain. He would have been a good ant target by the time we left, but he seemed to have recovered okay. That is until we tried to take the little cup of sugar out of his hands.
So let this be a lesson to you all. Of what, I just don't know right now. I have had enough trouble getting him to eat right this entire break, made worse by irregular schedules and vacationing nanny, now we have introduced little cups of sugar into the mix as the "cure" for something. At least he still eats pure wheatgerm...
quinta-feira, janeiro 18, 2007
Tan = fan
Bah-ee-kee = bike or motorcycle
Today he also kept saying "teem" which I think was in reference to "building" but I can't be sure, as he hasn't used it in other contexts.
Mah-oof = mouth - this is in reference to tongue actually, and I only made this connection when he referred to the "licky" emoticon as "mah-oof." He also calls the "evil" emoticon gato, I think because it has "ears."
Bah-ee-kee = bike or motorcycle
Today he also kept saying "teem" which I think was in reference to "building" but I can't be sure, as he hasn't used it in other contexts.
Mah-oof = mouth - this is in reference to tongue actually, and I only made this connection when he referred to the "licky" emoticon as "mah-oof." He also calls the "evil" emoticon gato, I think because it has "ears."
terça-feira, janeiro 16, 2007
segunda-feira, janeiro 15, 2007
Now we have a real sentence - "mee mee, assee cah-o" = "filme, assistir carros" - movie, watch cars. So cute.
Pah pah-o = "chapéu" - hat
Puhm = plumb (did I post this already?)
ahm = food, something to eat - not sure, but I think this is in relation to the noise I make when I want him to take a bite of something.
(and thanks to Rio for pointing out the mistakes)
Pah pah-o = "chapéu" - hat
Puhm = plumb (did I post this already?)
ahm = food, something to eat - not sure, but I think this is in relation to the noise I make when I want him to take a bite of something.
(and thanks to Rio for pointing out the mistakes)
segunda-feira, janeiro 08, 2007
Just after Xmas, two huge boxes of my things I left to be mailed to me over two years ago arrived. The delay here is for various reasons, but mostly due to my inability to accomplish things I meant to and leaving them for others to take care of. Anyway, so finally, most of my things are here, and this house is actually looking like me - lots of little nick nacks about, pictures, books....
In the last two and a half years I have lived here, various books have been sent to me, due to my plea for English reading material. O Maridão was always aggravated by the contiuous entrance of new dust collecting material, since I would usually plow through the book in about 2-3 days and then it would sit on a shelf in case I wanted to read it again. With this new box arrival, I finally decided to remove the books I have read to be donated to the Pan Am library. This is about 100 books of various sizes. A great wieght has been removed from our selves. But only to be replaced with more.
A great bulk of the weight in the new boxes was the books I moved about with me throughout college- many of them required readings for classes I took and were the $10-$20 novel or small paper back book that I would never get more than $1.50 back for returning, so I never bothered to do so. Most of them I never really read, yet managed to pass the classes anyway (what does that say?).
So now I am settling down to read them, actually read and digest them, trying to remember what it was they were supposed to teach me. At the time I was supposed to have done this, I was never able to stay awake or pay attention to the words on the page. I had attributed this to the lack of sleep, going out and partying, immense pressure kind of problem that happens to all of us during college. But I am finding that when I open them and begin, the same thing is happening - read a page and ... wait a minute, what did I just read? Incredibley boring, page long rants about German-ness, individual histories with the author, why he/she is important for history to recognize.... What was the point of that? It's gotten so bad that I am simultaneously reading three different books right now, and I cannot really remember what is in any of them...
So really what it comes down to is - why do they pick such horrible boring things for us to read in college? I mean, there must be something out there that is both entertaining and educational at the same time. They do it all the time for kids, look at Sesemae Steet, and really any program on PBS. Experts wonder why my generation doesn't read more now adays, blaming it on television and the internet etc, but I think what it really comes down to is that the only reading we have time for for several years is the most dry and horrible stuff you can imagine. And now out of some guilty feeling of having gotten credit for a class I never did the work for, I am trying to figure out why they felt this is worthwhile. Is it possible anyone enjoys these books anymore with so many more interesting things to read? I know the classics have got their place, but they were classics because they were so interesting at the time, so different, such a great message, daring etc... Surely there must be some way to update this curriculum....
In the last two and a half years I have lived here, various books have been sent to me, due to my plea for English reading material. O Maridão was always aggravated by the contiuous entrance of new dust collecting material, since I would usually plow through the book in about 2-3 days and then it would sit on a shelf in case I wanted to read it again. With this new box arrival, I finally decided to remove the books I have read to be donated to the Pan Am library. This is about 100 books of various sizes. A great wieght has been removed from our selves. But only to be replaced with more.
A great bulk of the weight in the new boxes was the books I moved about with me throughout college- many of them required readings for classes I took and were the $10-$20 novel or small paper back book that I would never get more than $1.50 back for returning, so I never bothered to do so. Most of them I never really read, yet managed to pass the classes anyway (what does that say?).
So now I am settling down to read them, actually read and digest them, trying to remember what it was they were supposed to teach me. At the time I was supposed to have done this, I was never able to stay awake or pay attention to the words on the page. I had attributed this to the lack of sleep, going out and partying, immense pressure kind of problem that happens to all of us during college. But I am finding that when I open them and begin, the same thing is happening - read a page and ... wait a minute, what did I just read? Incredibley boring, page long rants about German-ness, individual histories with the author, why he/she is important for history to recognize.... What was the point of that? It's gotten so bad that I am simultaneously reading three different books right now, and I cannot really remember what is in any of them...
So really what it comes down to is - why do they pick such horrible boring things for us to read in college? I mean, there must be something out there that is both entertaining and educational at the same time. They do it all the time for kids, look at Sesemae Steet, and really any program on PBS. Experts wonder why my generation doesn't read more now adays, blaming it on television and the internet etc, but I think what it really comes down to is that the only reading we have time for for several years is the most dry and horrible stuff you can imagine. And now out of some guilty feeling of having gotten credit for a class I never did the work for, I am trying to figure out why they felt this is worthwhile. Is it possible anyone enjoys these books anymore with so many more interesting things to read? I know the classics have got their place, but they were classics because they were so interesting at the time, so different, such a great message, daring etc... Surely there must be some way to update this curriculum....
Assinar:
Postagens (Atom)
