Yes, yes, yes. I know I’ve told you all a bajillion times that seasons are opposite down here. I think mostly it ends up me rubbing it in all your faces that the weather is getting warmer here and you all have to plunge face-first into a neverending pile of scraping ice off your cars, shoveling the sidewalks, layering up for 10 minutes every time you want to leave the house, and on and on and on. No, I don’t miss it. And no, I’m not sure how I will deal with this when we move back to the States.
So there is my compulsory ‘it’s spring here, sorry I’m not sorry, see you in six months after you dig yourself out of the snow’ speech.
September was weird, weather-wise. One day it was 80 degrees, the next day is was 50 and raining. That’s how it was this weekend. Saturday was cloudy, overcast and chilly, but today was beautiful. Sunny, 75 degrees and breezy.
After I managed to roll myself out of bed from my 10:30am-2:30pm nap this morning/afternoon (thank you Andrés), we ate some lunch, took another nap…just kidding, only Joaquin, and went up to Cerro San Cristóbal for a few hours.
Maybe one day we’ll walk up the hill (3 miles) with Joaquin, or bike up with him, but for right now the car is just…easier…or lazier…and honestly, Andrés and I are just kind of at a lazy point in our lives. Almost all of our energy for the past 9 months has gone into loving and caring for this sweet little boy, so if you give us the option to bike up a giant hill with the baby or drive up…yeah, right now the answer is gonna be drive. Ask us again in 6 more months. Maybe then we won’t be sleep deprived anymore (remember my 3 1/2 hour nap this morning/afternoon?).
Doesn’t matter how we went up the hill, we had a nice time together.
Our child has gone through several stages in his little life, but by far the most important he’s gone through are the saliva stages, obviously. Months 0-3 he was a non-drooler, 3-6 heavy drooler, 6-7 non-drooler, 7-8 light drooler, 8-9 epic waterfall drooler. This is simply to explain why this whale bib is a permanent fixture to his face in these photos. Luckily we haven’t gotten to the point where a bib needed while sleeping is necessary.
The women that take care of him at his daycare sometimes leave me scratching my head when I walk out of there. They tell me, ‘he’s drooling so much that we have to change his shirt three times a day’…
‘okay, do you want me to put extra shirts in his backpack?’ …
‘no, there are enough, but the drool is passing through the cloth bib onto his shirt’
‘do you want me to put more bibs in his backpack?’
‘well, it would be better if he had a plastic bib’
‘okay, you can use the plastic bib he uses to eat lunch for the rest of the day, because that’s the only plastic one he has’
‘well, really that’s for eating only…’
OMG I can’t win with these women. His shirt gets wet and all hell breaks loose in the place. Change the shirt or leave him to soak for a while! He’s not related to the wicked witch of the west.
On Saturday we spent most of the day at the mall, and it is so sad that I am so excited for our new set of ceramic pots and pans. I am so old. It feels like just yesterday that I would get excited for buying clothes. I hate buying clothes now. Cropped shirts? Are you kidding me? I can’t keep up with the fashion of these youths.
We were given a set of pots and pans for our wedding, but have never been used and are in my grandparents crawlspace. Pots and pans are not really airplane-packing-friendly. We have used hand-me-down (aka:free) pots and pans from other ministry couples that have come and gone through El Oasis. The only problem with this is that most don’t have matching lids and have been heavily used. But they’re free, and they served their purpose for us for over two years. Fast forward to a week ago when I was steaming blueberries for Joaquin and completely forgot about them. The result was disastrous and it was the only pot we had with a lid that fit. I was devastated. I tried uselessly scrubbing it with steel wool to no avail. Andrés told me to toss it, and I told him that enough was enough. New pots and pans were in order.
Our new ones are so beautiful, so shiny and non-stick. The saleswoman told us to not use metal utensils, information I passed along to Andrés. He then decided to play a cruel trick on me that night cooking with the skillet and saying he scratched it with a metal spoon. I almost cried. Stink eye.
It’s okay, I still love him. Especially seeing him love on his son. Swoon.