Friday, June 25, 2010

Toy Story 3 aka Sob Story

I need to stay away from the movies until I toughen up my outer shell. For reals. Last night I went to see Toy Story 3 with my friend Ayleen. I figured it was a nice, light, cute, cartoon for the evening. Oh boy, was I wrong. In the film they show pictures of Andy as a young boy (say, a little bit older than Christian’s age) and they show him playing with buzz and woody (Christian loves his woody doll) and the boy has light skin and dark hair just like Chris and so that's all it took for me to make the jump and go OMG my baby is going to grow up and leave me! It’s funny cause Ayleen goes, oh no, you’re going to lose it now. She was right...and that was just the opening scene.

The main plot point is about what's going to happen to Andy's toys now that he’s leaving to college. Now, if the whole comparison to my son weren't enough, I am SUPER sentimental when it comes to objects (especially toys cause they remind me of my youth). As a child it always traumatized me whenever my mom got rid of toys without me knowing. It was like a piece of me had been taken away. My little white teddy bear with the rattle tail, my Barbie pony, my little people school house. These were all toys that went to the big Goodwill in the sky one day when I wasn't even there to defend them. Trauma!

I still have a box of my toys (that I managed to wrangle from my mother's hands) in the attic (hello Cabbage Patch kids, Barbie, Ken, Jem, Strawberry Shortcake, I hope you guys are comfy up there) and a lot of the toys that Chris and JJ currently have and play with (Little People Garage, Snoopy Snow Cone Machine, Lite Brite) are ones that I used to have (or wanted to have) as a child. I've found them on eBay (several of them actually come out in the movie…talk about a walk down memory lane) and just had to have them (again, in some cases). What can I say, I'm a sucker for sentimentality.

It's pretty strange because my kids are not like that at all. When I ask Chris if he wants to get rid of any toys so we can clean up the playroom, he very easily starts dumping things in the trash. A little too easily. Perhaps it's that he's spoiled, so he figures, ah, I'll just get more toys, so who cares. Or perhaps he's not old enough to have any major attachments to the toys yet (or perhaps, he' know...normal) but I'm the one that suffers on clean up days...and these aren't even my toys! Chris, are you sure you don't want to keep this little car with the pig in it? It's so cute! Noooo don't throw away the Darth Vader action figure, look how cool he is....yes, I know his leg is's OK, we've got superglue.

Yes, I realize, I'm a lost cause. Somebody please call Hoarders.

If you're not a total sap, go see the movie. It is awesome. R is going to see it with Christian.

I'd see it again, but I don't think I can handle it.

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Sunday, June 20, 2010

22 Months

Little man today you are 22 months old and quite the big boy. I haven't been keeping up this blog very well and I absolutely must stop today to write down all the things that you amaze me with every day. It's completely adorable how everything is new and exciting to you, no matter how mundane.

Because you have your big brother to look up to, you refuse to be treated like a little boy and you constantly surprise with all the new things you learn. You've decided you want to drink from a big boy cup and you do so with such care and ease that I'm surprised I'm looking at the same little guy that likes to smush food in his hair.

You can count to 10 in English and in Spanish too, with a little help. You like to sit in the big boy chair and "write" just like Christian does. I love how you lay down on the floor whenever you've got something creative that you want to do. I love how you talk so much! "Watcha doin?" "Mom, Chris huht (hurt) me" "Where are you?...I hiding" "Wha happen? You OK Chris?". You love doing puzzles and have become quite adept at them, but sometimes you just like to carry the box of puzzle pieces around the house.

You're really great about going to sleep by yourself in your own bed, but you're really bad about staying asleep in your own bed. I know I can always expect a holla' at around 4 or 5 am (which is when you get transferred to my bed). I don't mind the snuggle time, because before I know it, you will be big and not want anything to do with your uncool mom. I love that you shush me when I'm trying to sing you lullabies. I should take it as a personal attack on my singing abilities (or lack there of), but it's too funny to get mad at. I love how you repeat after me when we say our prayers at bed time.

I love how you greet me when I get home from work. A huge "Mami!" and open arms are just what I need at the end of the day. You always act like you haven't seen me in days. I love how you dance to the hokey pokey by just moving your foot forwards and backwards.

I love how you always have a smile on your face. I love how you always want to hug me. I love how you call me "mami" and when I don't pay attention the first time, you start calling me "Caya" (claudia). I love how you look when you're running and I love the excitement on your face when you practice your jumps and are actually able to do them. I love when you run around in circles with Christian. You're so excited that he's trying to catch you and your laugh is so contagious. I love that when he gets tired of playing you continue to run in circles by yourself, pretending that some one's trying to catch you. You're such a goofy little man. Wherever do you get that from?

I love how you are so cooperative with me (for the most part) and are so easy going. I love that you sit on the time-out step with Christian whenever he's punished. I love how your little face lights up whenever you see Elmo, or Spongebob or "Hanny Manny". I love that you've perfected the fake smile...on cue. I love that you are so gentle, but at the same time, you defend yourself when necessary.

You are such a sweet loving boy and I'm so thankful to God for allowing me to be your mommy. I love you my little man and look forward to watching you grow up.


Saturday, June 19, 2010

I'd hate to see the lint that comes from one of those

I love it when Christian brings drawings home from daycare. I know some parents are afraid of asking their kids what the drawing is of because they might hurt the child's feelings for not knowing what it is. That is not the case with me...I always have to ask because Chris comes up with the craziest drawings, so there would be no way I could ever guess.

Here's his latest work of art:

Me: That's a nice drawing Chris, tell me about it.

C: It's three people.

Me: What are those black dots?

C: They have Giant Bellybuttons

Me: Did you forget this one? (I point to the one on the right)

C: No, he doesn't have one

I have a feeling the three people in this picture are (l to r) me, Christian and Jordan, but that's just a guess (the one on the left has flippy hair). My poor little Jordan must have come from an egg or something since he has no belly button. Either that or he's the one with the giant bellybutton. Perhaps Chris is trying to tell me something because I spoil JJ too much....cut the cord Mom, you're giving him a hernia.

See, I told you his artwork was entertaining. Although, I'm not sure what's more entertaining, what he draws, or how I interpret it.

Anyway, I get at least one drawing every day and I don't really know what to do with them anymore? I used to save them, but I've got enough of a packrat problem, so I don't want to keep doing that. I put them on the fridge, but then after a while, there's just too many on there.

One nifty idea I read about was to scan the drawings (or take a picture of it like I did for this post) and then make a photo book out of all the pictures. These are easy to make since there are so many picture printing websites now a days.

What do you do with your kids' artwork? I'd love to hear some ideas on this, I can't keep them all, but it breaks my little heart (or my giant belly button) to get rid of them.

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Thursday, June 17, 2010


My grandfather passed away. Like his mom, my great grandmother, he had Alzheimer's so he didn't really recognize anyone or anything anymore. In a sense, I feel like the real him, had left us a long long time ago. He was a Doctor in Pharmacy, a college professor, a chemist, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a great grandfather.

I will always remember how beautifully he played the piano (by ear). How he loved to show off his guns (both the literal and figurative ones)...and especially his fascination with the trains. He devoted a whole room in his house to the trains and would often invite me inside to his magical wonderland to watch them go round and round.

I will always remember how he loved boxing, a cold beer, and how he liked to show off his English speaking skills to me. I will forever picture him in his guayabera shirt sitting in his recliner chair.
Papa Quincho, I will miss you, I love you...and I hope they've got model trains in Heaven.

Cheers! To a life well lived.
May you rest in peace.

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