Thanks Jesus

Yes... thank you for giving me the energy that woke me from my slumber at 10:15pm and allowed me to stay up another 3 hours in order to do the dishes, put them away, clean the kitchen, take a shower, and blog.

I'm so happy that I'm able to write without the thought of the dishes looming over me. The only thing left to do is fold lots of laundry and clean up Celia and Effie's room. But that's not a big deal. Cuz they aren't dirty stinkin dishes.

And hello to you peeps out there in the working world. I hope you are enjoying life in front of the computer today. So am I.

So, here's a funny conversation I had tonight around 8pm at Baskin Robbins as we sat outside eating our ice cream while Effie painted herself brown with chocolate.

Alex:

Did you ever watch one of those multi-media presentations at school? They would put up 3 big screens and show all these crazy images and play loud rock music.

Like the Just Say No ones? Or the Holocaust Survivor ones?

No - the Drug ones. Do you remember that Van Halen song that was popular in the 90's? Well, I remember them using that song.

Jump? That one?

No - the serious one.

The one with the singer that was not David Lee Roth and had the real emotional piano playing?

Yeah, that one. I think it was called RIght Here Right Now.

No Alex, that was Jesus Jones. Remember that video on "The Box" all the time? The Van Halen one was "Right Now!".

Yeah! Yeah! That one!

(Sara) I remember that Holocaust guy telling us how one day soon after the war he came upon some American Soldiers who had also crossed paths with some dying children, then one soldier gave a kid a Snickers or something cuz he was starving and it killed the kid.

Hey, our Holocaust survivor told us the same story! There must not have been that many survivors around that year to do presentations.

I think I'm gonna blog about this Alex.

Please don't write that I said there was a "run" on Holocaust survivors that year. It doesn't sound good.

Ok Alex, I'll write something else. (end of conversation)

I think that's all we managed to talk about, cuz Celia was making movie star faces at people driving through the drive-thru. She went dressed with her new Dora sunglasses, a new purse, and a pink boa around her neck. She said she was dressed very "romantical".

Effie's face looked like she had just put on a mud mask of chocolate ice cream, and her hands were just as dirty. I picked her up from behind her back and told her to put her hands up to the sky and not to touch anything.

There were some guys outside washing mini-blinds out in the parking lot, and I told Celia I was gonna ask them to hose down Effie and wash her in one of their buckets.

She then told me - "No Mom, you can't put Effie in a bucket. Only you and Dad like to take baths in buckets with lots of wet butts."

"What? Wet butts?"

"Yeah - you like to take a ducky (a bath) with wet butts".

I can't believe it. My kid barely turns 4 and she's already trying to make jokes like a 6 year old.

I used about 20 wipeys to clean off Effie and we came home.
Too bad I can't write anything funny about what Effie said, cuz she still doesn't talk. Oh well. I'm sure she will soon enough. Good night everyone.

Miss me?

Well, I've missed you too. How are you my friends?

It's been awhile hasn't it?

It seems that for the past few months the party of the year was looming over my head. But it's over now, and if you didn't go - too bad for you - cuz it was really freakin great. (note to self: "Sara, if you are ever rich, hire a live band for EVERY party - EVERY month!")

For the past few months there has been a party to go to every Saturday. I think we went to a get together or party for 8 consecutive weeks, then there was a week off, and now we're back again. This is all thanks to the Q's! This family keeps us busy!

Everytime September rolls around it seems like the new year has begun. Maybe it's cuz my while life I've either been in school or worked at a school, but now that fall has arrived it seems like everything gets started.

I've cleaned out my kids drawers and closets - so I'm on track to a new beginning.

And dishes - are only 50% done, so that's another story.

But I regress. October is approaching. There will definitely be a party on our part - then another Q party, then a Halloween partay, then November comes, then it's my bday - and I'll be 30 and who knows what I'll be doing - (but as Cathie informed me - The Last Dragon is playing at midnight) hehehehehee.. (if you don't know Leroy Green please Netflix immediately)

And as for partying... I'm exhausted just thinking about the upcoming months - and Christmas for goodness sake - then New Years, then a slight rest - then summer will roll around again, then before I know it I'll be 40. Geez.

And again - Alex decided to read another blog of mine. If you talk to him will you remind him that this is not intended for his eyes! What a critic! The critic of them all! He said my blog sounded like writings of an 80 year old woman reminiscing on old times and exaggerating the truth all the while. Well, mind you mr. hubby... I don't lie in my blogs. I only enhance dialog every once in awhile.

And since I'm on the tip of chastising my husband let me tell you what was on his grocery list - just to give you a laugh.
(You don't know how much I love this guy)

1. Boboli
2. Coffee creamer - caramel
3. Brownie Mix
4. Cake Mix
5. Sprinkles
6. Fruit
7. Chex Mix
8. Sour Cream (the largest container possible)
9. Sausage patties
10. English Muffins
11. Bread
12. Bottled Coke - (mexican not American)
13. Ice Cream - with no HFCS

HAHHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAA. What a life I live! Talk about a sweet tooth huh? I fed the poor guy soup for dinner with Chicken, Rice, Asparagus, Broccoli, and mushrooms - and 2 hours later I get that list. Yahahahaha!

I think I'm gonna go to the dishes now, make a list for the bday party, and have some Ice Cream.

Minnie Mart

Yeah - the market is down. And as far as the other market is concerned - I dread going.

Have you ever grocery shopped with two kids - neither of which wants to sit where a child is supposed to sit, then you have to pile your groceries on top of them while you try to get them to not fall and crack their heads open while you are trying to pick the right head of lettuce? Man, it stinks. Can anyone save me from this? Does anyone want to steal my children while I go grocery shopping? While you are at it, can you cook the food too and feed the kids?

I hate that kitchen right now. There are really not that many dishes to do either - but I was outside chatting with my neighbor (my new homey), and as tired as I am after 10 hours of "birthday at Disneyland", I have a second wind but for some reason do not want to spend any of my energy cleaning. But I have to! And finishing this dumb blog will give me incentive to just walk out of this room and begin. Can anyone save me from this?

Soooo.. at Disneyland today when Minnie Mouse came out of whatever secret back-lot she hangs out in, we got in line - and Effie just freaked. She wanted Minnie immediately. She was crying her lungs out, smacking me to get her to the front of the line.

"Just wait mija, (pronounced Mee-Ha for all your gringos) we will see Minnie in a second. You just have to wait until all the other kids get their picture."

"Waaaaaaaaaaaa! Noooooooooo! Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! (Minnie)"

She kept motioning with her hands saying - "Come to me Minnie! I NEED YOU NOW!"

When it was her turn she ran to the lady with skinny legs and a big Minnie head and hugged her as if it were her long lost mother who gave her all the ze ze she ever wanted. I took her picture and tried to tell her:

"Come on. Your turn is up. Say goodbye to Minnie".

"NOOOOOOO! MAAAAAAAAAA!"

I had to drag her away.

Alex bought her a little cute Minnie doll which made her happy for awhile.

"Do you like your new Minnie?"

"Maaaa! Maaa!", she said as she pointed to where Minnie was. She wanted more.

Then... in the car on the way home Alex said.

"Take out the camera. Show her the pictures."

"Look Effie! It's the picture of you and Minnie".

She grabbed my camera out of my hands and smiled at the pictures. She hugged the camera to her check. She kissed the screen. She was so happy and touching the camera way too much that she made a menu pop up on the screen. This made her angry. Her fingers kept poking the screen, as if hitting it would erase the menu. Then she tried wiping the menu off.

"Do you want mama to fix it for you so you can see the picture of you and Minnie?"

"NOOOO!! MINE!"

Her frustration was beyond my control. I couldn't help the child, and she was so afraid of me taking the camera away from me that she just held it and whimpered.

I think I'm gonna get that picture enlarged to a 16x20 at Costco tomorrow and tape it to our wall. It was all just too cute. It's all more cute than I've written it out to be, and I wish you could have seen her, but I just had to get it in writing so one day I can let her read for herself and reminisce on the day she wanted a mouse more than her own mother. But man, am I tired and.... as you know and love to hear- my dishes are awaiting. (*#!(@*#$(&!!

Weaner

Attention: This is a little Rated R - so, if you have a problem reading about mammary glands then stop here.

Calm down already. I just had to. I had such a crappy blog session last time, that I couldn't pass up the chance to write about what happened yesterday.

And for those of you who don't know me as well as the others, well, I have a confession to make. Up until last night, at 3am, I was still a lactating human pacifier.

I should of known I was in for it as far as nursing was concerned when on our first trip to the pediatrician with Celia the doctor asked me:

"Ahh you nuh-sing da baby?"

"Yes", I said.

"Ohh.. Good! Good"

Then Alex but in.

"We were thinking on having our child nurse for 5 years. What do you recommend?"

"Rell, een some cont-wee, people nurse for maybe twee year or so, but in dis coun-wee, 1-2 year is fine."

I didn't even know how to respond. He actually thought Alex was serious, and I didn't feel like explaining his personality at that moment.

But back to my point: There. I said it. It was bound to happen sooner or later. All the leche/che che/milk/or as Effie called it: "ze ze" stories are too good not to write about. And possibly, some La Leche League mommy may do a google search about weaning, and this could help her. And for you - if you are not or have never lactated, this may be of no interest to you, but I don't care.

It's been almost 5 years now - including pregnancy with child #1 that the mammary glands began producing milk. That child #1 weaned at 23 months, and by 18 months was already saying to me "Other side please". Maybe that was a good sign that she was too old, but hey, the "ze ze" as Effie calls it - was my secret weapon. There's nothing like being able to put a kid to sleep instantly or shut them up like "ze ze" - and if you are cringing right now - like I said already: calm down. No one seems to have a problem when they see a 3 or 4 year old hanging out with a pacifier or a bottle, but you best believe watching a mama with a 1-2 year old kid nursing seems to offend some.

Just last year, when Effie was only 14 months I was nursing her, (and mind you, I was never revealing - in fact, the major downside to nursing was that it transformed the boobs I had back down to junior high school status, so there was never any kind of show going on) and someone said.

"You are still doing THAT!"

"Yeah- so what - she's still a baby"

"Well, I think she's way too old for that".

She was always a little big for her age, but hey, just this year the AAP (American Academy of Pediatrics) changed the recommendation time for nursing from 1 year to 2 - so THERE!

Anyway, despite complaints by people who were probably never breastfed themselves, I just dealt.

Celia's weaning came abruptly after she was throwing a mad, major, reckless tantrum in the car. I tried to sooth the little raging screamer, and it was a bad idea. She bit me so hard that she made me bleed. Ouch is right. From that moment on it was No More Che Che for Celia.

Last night, I just had enough with Effie. The kid is so freakin cute though. If you know her, you know what I'm talking about. She is the cutest thing ever. In fact, we thought she should be nursed a lot longer, cuz she can't even talk and still seems like a wittle bay-bee! And she was always so sweet about it.

Every day, whenever she'd need me, or had to take a nap, she'd say:

"mama. ze ze."

"ok fine - but give me a kiss first. Now kiss your sister. Give me a hug".

She'd obey each command and EVERY SINGLE TIME I began the process of moving her in - she'd start busting up with giddy baby laughter.

"hehehehehehehehe", she'd giggle, like a little sly baby.

But last night, I just couldn't hang anymore. She wanted ze ze all night, wouldn't detach, and I was exhausted.

3:00am. "Effie. Ze ze is bye bye. No more ze ze. Ze ze night night".

(No wonder she can barely speak. I talk to her like a cavemama)

Man, she cried all night. I'd walk her around, try to rock her to sleep, and every time we got back to the bed she'd freak. She was crying, begging for ze ze, pounding her own chest to show me what she wanted. I wanted to give in so bad for the little sucker, but I knew a few nights of torture, then like her sister, she'd just forget.

We were up all morning. I let her watch Dora from 5am - 8am just to make her calm. Every 20 minutes or so she'd say:

"mama? ze ze?"

All I could do was hold her and watch Dora. I couldn't even sleep. I felt so bad.

Today wasn't too bad, but while Effie, Celia, and I were playing duck duck goose in the middle of their room Effie did the sweetest thing.

She looked at me with that BIG BIG Effie grin, gave me a big kiss, gave Celia a BIG kiss, gave me a BIG hug, and looked at me with the cutest eyes I've ever seen and said: "ze ze?" I smiled at her, told her I loved her, and ignored her request and distracted her by calling "GOOSE" on her.

She fell asleep in the stroller tonight without my secret weapon, and an hour ago she woke up. I was dreading the moment I'd have to try to put her back to bed without ze ze, but when I walked in the room she was sitting up on the bed, and she jumped up at me, put her head down and just fell back asleep. I couldn't believe it. Oh well, I guess she gets it.

"ze ze went bye bye".

Difficulties

I think I'm finding it more and more difficult to write. On any given day, I may meet a new person (usually a nanny from Oaxaca), go on a new adventure, but what story is good enough to share?

My offspring themselves are interesting and rather fun to tell stories about, but what do you want to read about? I find myself at a point where I know that everyone who reads this knows most everything about me - so what can even be new?

Well, one thing I tend to find myself repeating a lot (to the new people I meet here and there and everywhere) is that I work as a sub. People view subbing as a bit of a crappy job, and it is - no insurance, so security, getting paid half or less what a teacher makes, whatever - but it's cool - and what I like most is having little to no responsibility for the students.

After subbing at schools in Compton, East Los, Glendale, and Canyon Country, subbing at LACHSA has been my main thing. There's one thing I've learned there that I haven't learned at many other schools, and that is that 97% of 14-15 year olds have mental handicaps. (I include myself in that percentage - but my sister is in the other 3%)

14-15 year olds, even sometimes regardless of who their parents are - are nuts. (here goes the disclaimer - I DO really LIKE them all, so if you are 14 or 15 or maybe even 16 or 17 please do not take offense, and like I mention in the above heading "never take my advice".

There may be nothing better to put the fear of having children in you as spending an hour and a half with 35 pubescent, hormonally raging, obnoxious, loud or reserved 14-15 year olds. It can be a living hell, a chaotic nightmare, and rarely a peaceful experience. This all leads to an assignment that I assigned some of my students last year when I was teaching.

"Forget the Spanish today, and take out a piece of paper!"

"You kids make me fear being a mother. I am scared to death of what my children may be like in 12 years from now so I need you to do me a favor".

I'm serious here - I did make them do this, and still have all the papers in my bookcase next to me to prove it. (I know I know, all this wishy washy writing is confusing and very Sara, but just calm yourself down and bear with me)

"I want all of you - to give me parental advice. And for those of you who are the worst - and you know who you are - I want you to pay extra attention and give the best advice. Write down what you think your parents did WRONG to make you the way you are. If you are a good kid - and you know who you are - please be sure to include what kinds of good things your folks did to make you a decent human being. I would really appreciate it."

Most of those kids wrote amazing papers. They took it really seriously as a minute to reflect on their upbringing. Of course, there were remarks such as "Do not let your children associate with minorities" and other funny things, but overall they gave some valuable advice.

Completely

Hi. How are you. My name is Sara. I live in Glendale and do not drive a Black Mercedes.

I have to shop at 4 different stores to get what I want to eat, and I do not shop at Costco. (by force, not by choice)

I drive a car with leather seats (which I have blogged about before) yet I'd prefer vinyl seats and no air conditioning if I could just drive a 1982 Toyota Corolla Wagon.

I have to go to Chatsworth soon to get a fix it ticket signed.

I have a stack of bills to pay.

My dishes are waiting for me. Some to wash, some to put away. They are calling my name from across the house, and I yell back to them. I say ... "paaleeze.... give me a second."

I went to Disneyland, and paid for it by myself. hahahahahahahahahahahahahahha... ooohhhahhahahahah. You think that's funny too? Well, you should.

There was a day this week in which my children were abducted for over 6 hours.
Within 2 of those 6 hours, my man and I went to 6 different places. (This is something that is IMPOSSIBLE WITH 2 BABIES IN THE CAR)

Today, we went to 5 places within 2 hours in the car, and it was hell. Who knew that every freakin library in the city of Los Angeles is either closed or doesn't open till 1pm on Sundays. Damn Budget.

I went to see that movie... the Dark Knight and left 20 minutes before it ended. jajajajajajajajaja. In the comments section, please feel free to let me know what happened. (I've heard a little already)

My tawin sista has decided to include her sister into the club, but she can only be a triplet, not a tawin.

I've been a mom for almost 4 years now, (almost 5 if you count having a child in the womb) and I still can't figure out how to feed 3 proper meals to 4 different people a day regularly without ignoring my kids for at least 2 hours total so I can cook all those meals.

I'm never going to let my kids talk me into getting a dog. (please remind me that I put this in writing if I ever forget)

I got a new t-shirt from Al. (Janet Jackson - rhythm nation) oh, so nice.

My sister has new lodgings, and I can't wait to visit her.

Summer is just about over, and I think it's time to deflate the baby pool.

Our xmas tree was outside by the curb for 2 weeks. The trash guys refused to pick it up. My dad smashed it into the green bin. It's sticking out - and is firey red. Do you think they will again refuse to throw it away? Will I live with the tree forever?
On many occasions, while it was out on the curb, I saw people actually stop their car to look. How "barrasing".

My kids are addicted to make-up. This is becoming a problem with my little mute child. She pokes her lips all day, motioning the application of lipstick. She would rather chew on Lip Smakers than eat pizza. Poor girl.

Enough. I know. Have a great week, and I'm sure by next Sunday, something interesting just may happen, and it just may be worth writing about. Peace.

Taa-wiin Sista!

Sometimes when I'm talking to someone in front on my kid (the older one), and she wants my attention, she says "Saarraa!". So much for teaching your kid to be proper. I think it's funny. She only does it to get my attention. Other times, I struggle to get her attention, but if I bring up the fact that she is my "Twiiin Sista", then she will definitely look my way.

I really have no idea how this all started. I don't even know how she understands what twins are. Maybe it was on a Dora episode or somethin.

But a few months ago, this "Twiinn Sista" business came to be.

For the first time in maybe 6 years I ended up buying some very 1991 style bathing suit, blue with white polka dots. (yes, I know, sounds very fashionable... and it is of course). Celia, at this time, had (and still has) a green bathing suit, with white polka dots.

"Oooh... mom, look! Your bathing suit has white dots, and MINE has white dots! THAT MUST MEAN WE'RE........ TWIN SISTERS!"

Oh la la! A twin! How exciting. I never had one. So, since then, every time we go swimming we are TWIINNN SISTERS!

You may not think this is interesting at all, but it is quite amusing to me, more than anything cuz the child is very very cute. This does tend to exclude the younger child. She is not our triplet, but she does have a twin of her own.

Every time this T.S. business comes up, Alex tends to get a little jealous. He'll point out that Celia and him have the same favorite color, then tell her they must be twins too, then she quickly says.

"no no no no no DAD! I'm not your twin sister. MOM is my twin sister. YOU are Effie's twin sister."

It's too funny. Now she plays this game where she'll ask me:

"Mom.. what's your favorite food?"

"hmm... hamburgers."

"Oh yeah! ME TOO! That must be because WE ARE............ TAAAWIIINNNN SISTASSSS!"

This can go on for extended periods of time. Many questions are asked and answered just so she can let every one know how we are twins.

On a daily basis, at some point I have to ask Celia a question.

"Celia - what do you want for breakfast? Chorizo and eggs or waffles?"

-she won't answer.

"CELIA!" (then I repeat the question)

- no answer.

"Hey you! I asked you what you wanted to EAT! You can't watch Pee Wee if you don't eat something FIRST!"

- no answer. ugg.

(She's always in her own world. She'll be much more interested in tracing "S's" on a piece of paper or talking to Nala and Simba [see older posts] than to consider eating)

Thennn... I remember. Why should I asked her as her mother, when I'm her twin! Oh yeah... so I say:

"Hey TWIIIIN SISTER!! I know you looooveee waffles! Weeeelll.. meee too! That must be because we are....... Twiiinnnn Sistersss!!!"

"OH RIGHT MOM! I FORGOT! We ARE Twin Sisters! I sure do looove waffles!"

Normally I am just "mom", and try my best to act like one. Sometimes the regular mom stuff works just fine, but when she starts to zone out, being her twin can really come in handy.