En Espanol

For the last three months, I've been really lazy about speaking to Marina in Spanish.
I think it's because she has such an amazing vocabulary in English and we have actual conversations, so I just want to talk to her all the time.

"How was your work, mommy? Did you have a good work?"
"Yes, I did, thank you. How was school today?"
"Good. I played with my friends."

But lately I've been noticing that Marina's understanding less and less when I speak to her in Spanish. She only can say individual words, not sentences or even active verbs like "eat" or "play" or "run."

So I need to stop that, and not even because I want her to be able to communicate with her family. I mean, come on, pretty much everyone in the family is married to a gringo, and Spanish stopped being the main language a long, long time ago.

I just want her and Ella to have the advantage of being bilingual, of being able to have a bigger world view.

It's not easy, especially since I tend to only speak English when Matt is around. But this is my attempt to start fresh.



Orale.

BFF

I apologize that this picture is crooked, but I just couldn't pass up posting the cutest moment in sister history.



They are in their car seats. Holding hands. Because they like each other.

(Or because Matt is driving and he drives like he's from Boston and they are terrified? KIDDING. KIDDING.)

Ella says hi

An unlikely ending

"I want some ice cream, please."

"We don't have any ice cream, Marina."

"YES. ICE. CREAM."

"We don't have any."

"I'M LEAVING!!!"

(opens door and walks, arms flailing, to the car.)

"I want to GO!!"

"Uh . . . No. We're not going anywhere."

"I WANT TO DRIVE! I'M LEAVING. I WANT TO DRIVE!"

"You can't drive. Driving is for Mommies."

"NO. DRIVING IS NOT FOR MOMMIES. IT'S FOR ME."

"It's for Mommies. HEY! How about a cucumber??"

"A pickle?? OKAY!!"

Problem solved! Healthily!

Nothing a bit of frosting can't fix

I had a craptacular week. Let's break it down.

Monday: One of my articles caused a shit storm.

Tuesday: Dealt with the shit storm, which included speaking with an overly opinionated cop.

Wednesday: Got sick. Spilled hot coffee on myself while driving Diana's super clean Lexus. Went to the wrong movie screening. Thought about my sins for Yom Kippur.

Thursday: Felt even more sick. Mom got vertigo while Marina was sleeping over. Went to the right movie screening. Told stories to Marina at midnight because she was still a little freaked out by the vertigo incident.

Friday: Forgot my glasses because I was overly tired. Moped.

But yesterday, I came home to find this:



Marina made it for me. (With Diana's help, of course. And thanks to the Samloff's tradition of sending me a confetti cake every year.)

It really was enough to make the rest of the stuff seem inconsequential.

Family Portrait

Dear Marina,
Tonight we were supposed to take a family portrait because your teacher sent us a note that said you were the only kid in class who did not have one.
This could partly be blamed on me because maybe you haven't realized but I've had two kids in two years and that makes you get all puffy and tired, so I've avoided cameras for a while.
But today we were all set to take one. Then your dad decided to go running at the gym, and guess what? The Red Sox are on and the game is all tied and I know he's just standing on the treadmill, dead tired but not able to move from his spot for fear of jinxing anything.
So when you go to school tomorrow, instead of a picture of me and you and Ella and Daddy, you might as well just take a picture of the 2008 Red Sox team. Make sure you pick one that spotlights JBay or Big Papi, because for the next few weeks, those dudes pretty much are our family.

A typical day with an opinionated two-year-old

"I don't want to go to school. School is broken."

"I don't want strawberries. Strawberries are too big."

"I don't like socks. Socks are too tiny."

"I don't want to wear training pants. Training pants are broken."

"I don't want to go to Playhouse Cafe. I am sleeping."

"I don't want to go to bed. The bed is closed."

"I don't want milk. Milk is too big."