El Gringoqueño

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Javier: Daddy, pirates say, "Ar me hearties."

Me: Really, Javier?  They really say that?

Javier: Yeah, Daddy.  An’ I like Pirates and Cara-beans.

Me: *Falls out of chair laughing*

I noticed Javier quiet in the back seat of the car.  He seemed concentrated on something, his little brows furrowed in thought.

"Hey, Javier, what are you thinking about?"

"A watergun."  He replied without hesitation, and as to open the floodgates to the torrent that is his little brain, continued.  "Daddy, I want a watergun for my birthday… an’ a telescope."

"A telescope?  A telescope AND a water gun?"

"Yeah, a telescope that goes on top."

"Oh, you mean a scope on the gun.  Wow, little boy, that’s some pretty sophisticated hardware.  You need a scope so you can see your target more closely, right."

"Yup, an’ I don’t want a pink watergun.  I want a water gun that is colored like a water gun."

"You mean a dark color, right?  I don’t know if they make them like that anymore.  But anything but pink, right?"

"Yup, ’cause my friend had one that was pink and it had a telescope."

"Who was your friend?  Isabel?"

"Yeah, Isabel.  She had a watergun with a telescope."

"Isabel is your cousin, Javier.  I’ll check it out and see what we can do."

"Okay, Daddy."

When our little boys need a bath, I call them croquetas de jamón, little ham filled dough balls rolled in bread crumbs and deep fried.  Delicious.

"Come here, my little croqueta de jamon," I say to Asier.  "We need to give you a bath.  I see crumbs."

Croquetas de jamón are tasty, crumbly little treats that make any occasion all the more fun.

­ Little Mr. Asier Enrique (pictured left below), has been loathe to speak.  He points, shakes his head, demands with his body language and cries, but has up to recently not uttered a distinguishable word.

Over the course of a few days he has acquired the following vocabulary:

1. Bye – (his first word) which he says repeatedly while exiting the room, reenter, exit, reenter, exit… rinse lather repeat, all for the opportunity to apply his new vocabulary to a relevant and appropriate situation.
   
2. Leche (milk) which you can imagine is something he cares about.  I need some leche.  Fetch it papi.
3. Mama – you would think Mama would be the first word, but mothers always get taken for granted.  The world is unfair.
4. Dada – I finally have a name.  Wheeee!
   
5. Ball – let’s play ball, daddy, so I can say ball over and over and over.  Smile, throw the ball, and say ball.  Repeat until daddy distracts me with something else.

I think that’s it.  I’ll add more if I think of anything else.

I’m posting this conversation that Laura and I had over IM after my "You Are Not the Sum Total of Your Accomplishments" post.  I wouldn’t normally post things like this, but I found it an interesting window into our relationship.   Bear in mind that my explanation of the p­ost is really me figuring out why I wrote it.

­(8/20/08 4:03 PM) Laura: nice post

(8/20/08 4:04 PM) Laura: you went a bit all over the place… so I had my doubts, it gets confusing… You are not your job, but you made a man reconsider his job and feel loved.

(8/20/08 4:04 PM) Jim: thanks, I think

(8/20/08 4:04 PM) Laura: Did he feel loved because you helped him reevaluate his job…then does that go against the message

(8/20/08 4:05 PM) Laura: I am still chewing on this.

(8/20/08 4:05 PM) Laura: not sure it is clear in your post

(8/20/08 4:05 PM) Laura: hmmm

(8/20/08 4:06 PM) Jim: your job isn’t what you are

(8/20/08 4:07 PM) Jim: but HOW you do your job, maybe

(8/20/08 4:07 PM) Jim: it’s realizing that ALL jobs are service

(8/20/08 4:07 PM) Laura: ahhh ok… because HOW you do your job helps you serve others

(8/20/08 4:07 PM) Jim: and it is in service that we touch the divine

(8/20/08 4:07 PM) Laura: yes I liked that part… that sentiment was unique

(8/20/08 4:07 PM) Jim: so it’s a question of thinking your job is the TITLE, when in fact it is how you serve

(8/20/08 4:07 PM) Laura: It is rarely said… In service we touch the divine

(8/20/08 4:08 PM) Jim: that way we can appreciate sweeping floors AND being a doctor

(8/20/08 4:08 PM) Laura: yes I think you need to somewhere in there… reinforce that people get down when they focus on their job, the tasks the title, the indignities.

(8/20/08 4:08 PM) Jim: but too many people think being a doctor is the M.D. rather than healing people serving people

(8/20/08 4:09 PM) Laura: They should rather take strength and base their dignity on HOW they do their job, on their service to others… because in serving others we touch the divine

(8/20/08 4:09 PM) Laura: ok got it,

(8/20/08 4:10 PM) Laura: very cool and unique. Like I said I think the posts has this and loses it… but ends with a bang

(8/20/08 4:10 PM) Jim: you know I write these things by the seat of my pants, right?

(8/20/08 4:10 PM) Laura: yes that is why I am giving you feedback

…And therein lies the reason for of our 14 years together

Here are Javier and Asier at Lake Michigan immersing themselves in some great construction project I like to call "The Big Dig."

I think we need to get the engineers in here to make a determination.

Hey Javier, you need to compact that better for optimum strength. 

Oh, I love sand.  Sand in my hair – sand in my mouth – sand in my pants – and sand in my ears.  Love it!

We purchased a tent the other day in anticipation of our great camping trip to the island of Vieques for the 4th of July.  Being a new tent, I set it up in the backyard as a test.  I thought it would be fun to spend the night out there with the kids in a backyard camp out.  I started the evening off with a nice meal cooked in my little hibachi; pureed carrots, pork chops, and Laura’s leftover rice dish.  Oh boy was it good.  Then we piled into our tent.

Note the carrots still lingering in the corners of Javier’s mouth. 

The tent is so huge that there are actually spaces to explore inside.  We bought an add-on that has a portable shower and changing room.  This monstrosity sleeps 10 adults. 

Asier is getting more guapo every day. 

The theory was sound, but at precisely 7pm, the wind died and I spent the night in a sauna.  I hardly slept a wink from the heat, but the kids were out cold… well except for Javier who cried so much we put him in his bed… and Asier who wanted his bed too.  Sigh, so in the end, it was just Jaimito, Olaia, and myself.

I think it’ll be much better though when we set this up on the beach in Vieques.  There’s always a sea breeze.

Jaimito:  Daddy, Mommy said I deserve a prize.

Me:  Oh really, Jaimito.  Why?

Jaimito: Because I picked up.

Me: Oh great, thanks.  I picked up too.  What do I get?

Jaimito: I don’t know.  Ask Mommy. 

Growing up, I always looked forward to winter, the snowball fights, fort building, and the sledding.  I miss it, but we’ve attempted to recreate a little bit of that fun here in the tropics.

We call it sledding criollo style.  Grab yourself a piece of cardboard, find a nice grassy hill, and away you go.  No cold weather gear required.  As usual, Javier had the most daredevil bad ideas, but everybody had fun. 

Even Asier got into the action.

This Christmas, my nephew and his mommy (my sister-in-law) made me the most awesome gift. Check this out, folks:

That is one fine hand-made high quality popcorn receptacle for the containing and the despensing of delicious salty, buttery popped corn.  The name carefully lettered on the side is to assure destruction to all who dare touch it.

Only the problem was that I couldn’t get it on the plane, so they had to ship to Puerto Rico.  When it finally arrived, we sat down with the kids and said to them that under no circumstances are they to touch the bowl.

This is my pop-corn bowl. No touchie, under pain of death.

Aw, who am I kidding, you should see how the kids react when I make popcorn.

“Daddy,” exclaim the niños, eyes as big as dinner plates, “can we use the ‘Popcorn Bowl’?”  It’s like the highlander of popcorn bowls; there can be only one.

Does it makes the popcorn taste better or something.  After careful consideration (i.e. eating popcorn)  I think it does.  It makes popcorn an experience.

Check out those cool little popcorn kernels painted in there.  Those are the little fingers of my cute little nephew and his mommy.  I am impressed, and it goes to show me that a 4 year old and his mother can outstrip Chinese manufacturing any day.

That is quality “Made in America.”