Andrea is married

"How does it feel to have chosen your new brother in law?" someone asked me at the reception.

"Great!" I replied. I am, in fact, rather pleased with myself.

I met Jeremy when I interviewed him for a job at Feature 50, my late employer. It was clear that he was a competent programmer (yes: from me, this is a compliment) and well over six feet tall. It was less obvious that he had a goofy sense of humor and a kind heart. Or that he was 32 and single. In Mormon culture, it is still "a truth universally acknowledged that a single man must be in want of a wife."

Jeremy grew on us. I say "us" because Rachel liked him too. On one occasion he crashed at our place (five minutes from the office) after working late rather than driving the hour back up to Clearfield, and made waffles for the kids in the morning. They loved him. In fact, Jeremy reminded me a lot of my brother Grant. I thought how cool it would be if the kids could have an uncle around again, and what a great uncle Jeremy would make.

Yes, this is how you start to think, as a father. Romance? The happiness of a young couple in love? Those are great side benefits but in my parenting-fogged mind my first thought really was, "He'd make such a great uncle!" Matthew seemed to agree, and later gave Andrea some unsolicited advice as to how to get this one to marry her. We still need to get Andrea to write about that.

So we set them up on a date one weekend when Andrea was in town. Truth be told, Andrea was not immediately smitten. Perhaps she still remembered the first blind date I set her up on, six years ago: Rob was a nice guy, but he didn't bring his A game that night. I also think that Andrea never really saw "computer nerds" as serious possiblities. So they would talk on the phone when she went back to Washington, but she continued to date other men. (Occasionally this made for awkward moments when Jeremy would ask me how Andrea was doing.) Ultimately, of course, Jeremy won her heart and the rest is now history. Until Saturday, though, Rachel forbade the kids from calling Jeremy "Uncle." Just in case.

Side note: "winning" a woman's heart is EXACTLY how we men see the world. Life is a competition, and the hunt for a wife is no exception. There were other men vying for Rachel's attention when I was dating her, but I WON. HAHAHAHAHA. Rachel has told me that this is a little silly, but that is how we are. And, although we might not argue the point with our wives, deep inside we know that this is something to be proud of.

Daddy is such a good example

Daddy is such a good example
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Met Rachel for lunch post-zoo. It's a wonder she can take me anywhere.

(Experienced parents will notice the full glass of water in front of Melissa. Rookie mistake.)

I have chocolate milk on my butt

We stopped at Jason's Deli tonight on the way to the craft store to get Matthew some oil pastels. I was sitting next to Melissa when she knocked her full carton of chocolate milk onto the bench. She and I both got wet.

If I had a "days without a spill" counter for Melissa I think it might have gotten up to two, once or twice.  But not three.

What's in a name?

Jonathan and I have waited until after the birth of each of our children before naming them. Of course we think about names for months and months. Jonathan likes to spend that time tormenting me with ludicrous concoctions. Before Matthew was born he proclaimed that Escher Euclid Ellis would be a fine name for a lad; Escher after the artist, and Euclid of course for the mathematician. "Then he could be triple E!" Ha ha very funny. Prior to Isaac's arrival Jonathan was digging through family names for girls on his side. "What about Octavia? The baby is due in August after all. If it's a boy he can be Octavian." Turns out Octavia died a gruesome death as a young child. Doubly no thanks! I think he was joking with that one too....

Matthew Browning:
Hebrew meaning "gift of God"

When Matthew was born his name was not on the list that we'd brought to the hospital. Right after his birth, the nurses wanted a name pronto, but I'd just barely had a chance to look at him. Jonathan took matters into his own hands. "I think he looks like a Matthew." I was still in "happy new baby lala-land," and quite frankly, sooo relieved to be done, that I readily agreed. He was named after Matthew Browning, the son of the great-great-grandfather that Jonathan was named after, Jonathan Browning the gunsmith.

Melissa Fay:
Greek meaning "honeybee"

Melissa is named for my great grandmother, Fay Melissa. We were thinking of using the name Audrey for a girl prior to Melissa's arrival, but the name didn't suit her. Instead we named her after my great grandmother who had red hair, aubourn eyes, and a "determined" personality. My great grandmother often claimed that she wasn't stubborn, just determined. By all accounts she was quite a strong-willed, incredible woman. Melissa didn't get the hair or eyes, but boy oh boy did she get the personality. In a three year old I call it stubborn though. May it serve her well when she is older! Fay is also my middle name, and a popular name in my family, all after my much loved great grandmother.

Isaac Rygg:
Hebrew meaning "he who laughs" or "laughing one"

Those who've read back in August already know about his name's history, but I'll recap in brief. Jonathan wanted to name Isaac after his best friend Ellis Rygg, using Ellis's last name of course. Ellis Ellis would be a little silly after all. :) "He can be a little Rygg now and a big Rygg when he grows up!" I wasn't so sure about Rygg as a first name, but certainly as a middle name. We tossed some names around the night he was born, but didn't reach a consensus. The next day we tried out Thomas Winward, a family name on my side. We do like to use family names for the history and stories that go along with them. Jonathan even announced that as the name to his family. I just couldn't bring myself to call him Thomas though. He wasn't a Thomas! So I asked Jonathan what he thought about Isaiah Rygg. Rygg yes, Isaiah no. Well then how about Isaac, I suggested? We tried it on for size, and Isaac just seemed to fit. Little did we know his personality would be such a sunny, happy one. "He who laughs" indeed!

A funny coincidence to our children's names is they all contained double letters. Matthew, Melissa, and Isaac. Isaac actually has double letters for all three of his names. If we have more will we continue that unintended tradition? Who knows?

Jonathan adds: Matthew wasn't on the list Rachel took to the hospital because it was too popular. (Top 3 baby name in the last 15 years.) Rachel is a bit of a name snob. :)

The Rodeo

Wow. I have not been pulling my fair share of posts lately.

Last Monday I took the kids to the San Antonio rodeo. Actually the rodeo is at night, but during the day it is like a big fair/carnival. The rodeo is BIG deal in San Antonio. It goes on for 2 weeks. We got there right when it opened, and first took in a puppet show. Most of the jokes were over the Matthew and Melissa's heads, but they were mesmerized nonetheless because of the puppets and the goofy guy with the guitar. Then we spent some time in the petting zoo with the llamas, goats, baby pigs, and deer. (There was even a kangaroo and joey!) The animals were quite friendly and not the least bit timid around small people, so that was fun. We stopped by the hand washing stations and then I lost Melissa for about 4 minutes and about lost it myself. When we got there it wasn't crowded, but a swarm of people converged right around the tent as we were leaving. I called and called for her. She was RIGHT THERE literally 3 seconds ago! A woman noticed me yelling for Melissa and pointed back in the petting zoo tent. Found her and gave her quite the lecture about staying right next to mommy at ALL times. That girl is giving me gray hairs!

Matthew and his buddy Jonah spotted the inflatable bouncing area so of course we had to stop there to get out the wiggles. And there was only one entrance and exit so I couldn't lose curly top. We watched a cattle herding event, checked out the chicken and dairy exhibits (where we took a break for ice cream), watched the pig races, and did typical fair stuff. It was kind of fun to take the kids to a "fair" since we didn't get to go last year. September was just too crazy.

To finish the day I let the kids pick 2 rides and then we had hot dogs and went home. Melissa crashed in the car on the way back so I carried her in and tucked her in bed. Matthew and Isaac both took a nap as well, so I got a break myself.

I would post pictures, but unknown to me the camera's batteries were nearly dead. I only got one picture before the camera gave up the ghost. Too bad.

The force is strong with this one

The force is strong with this one
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Even though _my_ wife wouldn't let me name him Jedidiah...

At the hoedown

Matthew's school had a cowboy-themed fundraiser tonight. They had Bill Miller barbeque and auctioned off various donations. The barbeque plates were at a $2 discount, which made it more palatable. Bill Miller is edible but not good barbeque.

Matthew had been excited that there was going to be things to buy, and very disappointed when I explained that (a) auctions meant you don't always win, and (b) the starting bids were all way out of his price range.

I really wish they wouldn't hype their fundraisers so much to kindergarteners.

Melissa had a good time, though: they had music playing and anyone could go up on the stage and dance. So she did. Just like Matthew.

At the hoedown
Originally uploaded by jbellis

I think I just lost 5 lbs...

Problem is, I didn't need to lose 5 pounds!

My abdominal muscles are reminding me of the workout they received yesterday from heaving. Blech. I'm keeping myself on a liquid diet until my gut feels more settled. Jonathan came home early yesterday to watch kiddos so I could lie down in bed. I felt better when the fever broke, but still pretty shaky.

Poor Isaac is sick too. Fortunately it's not a GI virus, those always seem more nerve wracking because you're worried about whether they're getting enough fluid in to make up for what they are losing. Isaac has some sort of upper respiratory virus. He's congested, running a low fever off and on and just feels miserable. This makes for long nights. Jon and I gave up around 4 AM and just watched an episode of Psych while cradling a NOT sleepy Isaac. He conked out by the end of the show and we all went back to bed. Thank goodness for netflix!

Here's hoping that today is a better day...

Update: Fever is back and feeling like crud again. No one wants to nap 'cept me. Looking forward to when Jonathan gets home this evening.

I found out why Matthew likes home-made lunches

"I'm usually the third kid to sit down. If you get a tray lunch, you have to wait in line with all the tray kids. And we don't have a very long lunch!"

I suspect that lunch period is plenty long -- but Matthew likes to talk. A lot.

Finding Melissa

Finding Melissa
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Matthew got up at 7. He assumed Melissa was up because she was not in her room. Damn. She usually sleeps in if she stays up late. Guess not today.

I took the trash out. Didn't see Melissa on my way out the door, so I started to track her down. Not in the living room. Not in the kitchen. Not in the play room. Not in the guest room.

Hmm.

I was getting a little worried. She hadn't sneaked out last night after I went to sleep, had she? It wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility, not after I'd found her running down the sidewalk by herself when arriving home after taking Matthew to school. Had the door been locked when I took the garbage out? I couldn't remember.

I knew she liked to hide under the cushions of the chair-and-a-half, so I checked there before panicing. And there she was, fast asleep.

Good news, bad news

The good news is that Melissa is now getting up to use the bathroom at night.

The bad news is, that was half an hour ago and I still hear her talking to her "friends" (stuffed animals).

Let the rain come

Matthew looked out the window. "It's raining! YES!"

When it's raining we take the minivan. Otherwise we walk; Daddy needs the exercise. (But I put Isaac in the stroller instead of carrying him. I don't need THAT much exercise!)

Matthew prefers to ride. I guess walking is not cool. So the rain this morning made his day a little brighter.

Take your medicine like a man

Take your medicine like a man
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Isaac is teething, still. We're giving him Baby Tylenol at night to
try to ameliorate things. He does not approve, but he takes it with
much better grace than the others did at this age. Isaac just
grimaces and tries to turn his head away.

Hanging in there

I thought the kids were finally asleep, when I heard cries of "Daddy, help!" from Melissa's room. The cries took on a tinge of desperation as I headed up. When I got to her room, I found a naked three year old hanging to a coat hook in her closet. I lifted her down (only about a foot, but she couldn't tell) and she tearfully explained, "My diaper was wet." Apparently she was trying to get another one -- on a shelf seven feet up -- but finally met a climbing challenge she couldn't summit.

All I wanna do is rock

Isaac got up at 5. I took him downstairs and he snuggled into my shoulder, so I rocked him in the living room until he fell asleep. Usually he wants to play before he's ready to go back to sleep but not this morning. After half an hour he was in Limp Baby Mode: when you can lift his arm up and it goes up without resistance and flops limply back down when you let go, he's ready to be moved. Back to the bassinet with Isaac, and back to bed with me.

He woke up again at 6. Damn. He wanted to rock again. So we rocked, and he went back to sleep. I put him down in a blanket on the living room at 6:20 and he immediately started fussing. At 6:40 I thought I had him for sure but he started fussing again after 5 minutes of hope on the blanket. So we kept rocking until 7:20 when the big kids got loud, and I took him up to his mom.

Mornings like this, I think the iPhone is the best parenting aid ever invented.

Matthew's first baby sitting

Rachel came downstairs. "What happened, did you just dump the whole baby toy basket on the floor and turn him loose among them?"

"No. But I think Matthew did."

I had Matthew watch Isaac for fifteen minutes while I bathed Melissa. He had instructions to come get me if Isaac started fussing (in case I couldn't hear over the splashing), but he didn't need to. When I came down Isaac was in the center of a storm of toys, on the edge of fussing but not quite, thanks to Matthew distracting him.

Good job, Matthew.

The great hot breakfast crisis of 2009

Rachel makes cream of wheat with water. Dad always made it with milk.

I don't know if I can handle this.

(Rachel has never tried grits, but I trust that when she does she will agree that they are nasty.)

Injection-molded plastic envy

While getting my new phone number, I asked the kiosk guy if he had any plastic display models my kids could have. He said sure, and gave me two. I had Isaac and Melissa with me -- all three is a real handful -- so Melissa picked one and I took the other home to Matthew.

All was not well.

Melissa's, you see, had a slide-out qwerty keyboard. Matthew's was a non-sliding model.

Matthew was violently upset by this inequity. So I gave his to Isaac instead. (Isaac was very pleased.)

Jealousy sucks. If Matthew had been the only one to get a phone (of either model) it would have been another forgotten occupant of the toy bins within a week, probably just a day. Rachel and I pointed out that he had a real working camera, among other things that his sister does not, but he was not mollified in the heat of his anger.

He ripped his bed apart to show us how angry he was, which sort of worked in that it does piss me off. The last time he did that we had him sleep on the raw mattress until the next normal changing of the bedding. The problem with that is he likes to wrap himself -- including his head -- in way too many blankets, which makes him sweaty and frankly stinky. So we don't really want him on the mattress like that. New solution: sleeping on the floor. At least that is easy to shampoo.

Matthew's attitude is normal: given the choice, most people would rather have less on an absolute scale, as long as they have more than their peers. Normal, but not really healthy, I submit. I think that attitude can be changed. And of course Matthew is young still.

Back to our story: I told Matthew that if he really thought the phone was such a big deal he could offer to trade his camera for it. He tried to offer his old film camera; I told him that wouldn't cut it. He said he would think about it.

I thought this would make him realize that the phone wasn't worth it, but he told Rachel that he did want to make that trade. Rachel didn't know what I had told him, and I was taking a nap, so Rachel said that Melissa was too young for a camera and put a stop to it there. So Matthew came up with the idea that he would share his train bean bag, which Melissa covets, in exchange for time with the phone. Melissa thought that was a fine deal, and the tempest in a teacup was over.

New phone number

My new cell number is 210 861 4702.

I'd rather keep the 801 number since so many people have it saved, but we wanted to get Rachel a local number and AT&T won't let us have the phones on the same plan while they are in different area codes. Lame.

(If you should have Rachel's new number, but don't, feel free to call mine and ask. :)

Valentines day food

I get Rachel a present on Valentines day. (At first I thought this might be sort of optional seeing as how it's an entirely artificial holiday, but I was wrong.) I discourage her from trying to reciprocate, though; guys -- and me in particular -- are hard enough to buy gifts for as it is, without adding another occasion into it.

So instead, Rachel goes all out on the food.

We started the day with German apple pancakes, a completely unhealthy and entirely delicious concoction of basically butter, topped with whipped cream. Also there are some apples for decoration. Delicious. (We first tried these at the Magnolia Pancake Haus here in SA, but Rachel's are better.)

Nobody was hungry for lunch, although Melissa did completely polish off her box of chocolates. That girl is a chocolate fiend.

For dinner we are having steak, with an ice cream cake for dessert. The valentine's day ice cream cake is our longest-running tradition as a couple, dating back to our very first valentine's day together. (Rachel still remembers walking to Baskin Robbins in Provo from the Glenwood.) That was a good cake.

Fortunately this is not the answer to as many questions as it used to be

Matthew pinched his finger while assembling a teddy bear wagon. Rachel told him to run his fingers under cold water. I asked her where the arnica was (a homeopathic remedy for bruises).

"Melissa ate it."

(Homeopathic remedies are basically sugar pills.)

The long now

We had a short conversation with Melissa the other night. Melissa was in a good mood, as she often is.

"Melissa, do you like being three?" Rachel asked.
"Yes!" Enthusiastically.
"When will you be four?"
"Next year!"
"No, silly. You will be four this year. When will that be?"
"My birthday!"
"When is your birthday?"
"Wednesday!"

Her birthday is in May. Time is still a vague concept for Melissa.

Dancing at the table

Dancing at the table
Originally uploaded by jbellis

That could have gone better

Today I decided give Isaac a taste of avocado. I tried to just give him a tiny mushy sliver of it, but no, he wanted to do it himself. He eagerly grabbed a fistful and managed to get a small taste in his mouth.

He worked his jaws for a few moments and looked thoughtful. Then his face screwed up in disgust. Before I could prepare he spit up copious amounts of milk along with the avocado all over himself and me.

Well darn. Guess I'll wait another week or two. Maybe he would prefer banana...

State Pride

Some recent school work Matthew brought home:


The writing is a bit faint, but in the picture to the right Matthew labeled the different cowboy accoutrements.

The booklet on top was like a "Brown Bear, Brown Bear..." for Texas. Each page had something unique to Texas such as the state tree, flag, flower, seal, Alamo and so on.

Today Matthew recited a jumbled history of the Alamo. It's kind of amusing to hear how things are processed in a 6 year old's mind. Reminds me of the game telephone.

The school's mascot is a cowboy, and there are lone stars, boots, and flags decorating the halls. Each afternoon I watch the color guard take down Old Glory along with the Lone Star.

My brief fling with Judo

This could be considered a continuation of my first post about another way my father has influenced my life. I could definitely make a theme out of that, but probably not the entire 25 items.

Let's start with the highlight of my judo career: some time around 1992 I competed in the judo junior nationals (one of three such tournaments -- the usa judo governance was confused, and for all I know still is) as a green belt and won my first match with an arm lock.

I was probably the only green belt in the tournament; most competitors were black belts, or at least brown. But I was an accidental tournament goer; Grant was planning to go, but in our last practice before the tournament, I threw him with taio toshi. He tried to avoid landing on his back, but broke his collarbone instead. Oops. Since we already had the plane ticket, I got to go instead.

That was as far as my judo career went, and it's really more of a testament to how obscure judo is in the USA than how good I was. I spent a lot more time on table tennis, and later raquetball, but I was never close to being able to win a match at a national event in those sports. (I did once beat one of the guys in this video in a mini-game to 7.)

I stopped practicing judo after leaving New Jersey. Grant and Christine kept playing recreationally. Telitha and David were more serious. Both trained in Japan with the best; Telitha was on the US national team (i.e., the best in the country in her weight class) and played in international tournaments including the Pan Am games. (The USA judo jacket I have comes from her time on the team -- they gave her one several sizes too large.) David repeatedly placed in the top 3 in national tournaments but never quite made the national team.

Dad never got on the mat himself, citing (with some justification) bad knees, but after years watching his kids fight feels himself fully qualified to second-guess international referree calls. I think he's actually reffed some local tournaments himself.

All this from a little ad Dad saw years ago in the paper: "free judo lessons at Princeton University." Free was always a good word; and we were trying to cut expenses at the time, dropping piano lessons. (A sacrifice I was elated to make.) A black belt -- and PhD -- named Mike Pontecorvo started a club for kids on Saturdays. Pretty soon I, and then Grant and David, who took to judo like a duck to water, were practicing with the university students. "He's like a puppy pit bull; he won't give up!" one of the students remarked, as David tried with all his 70-lb might to take his leg out from under him.

Love notes

(Rachel would like me to point out that he _has_ written me "I love you notes" before, and this one was occasioned by me telling him that it was time to put the drawings away as sacrament meeting at church drew to a close. Classic Matthew overreaction.)

Love notes
Originally uploaded by jbellis

A brave, foolish woman

A brave, foolish woman
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Meet our church ward's new primary president. I wonder if she knows
what she's getting into.

A girl with a plan

Melissa was impressed by Matthew's school PE night, especially the dancing. (4 of the 6 presentations, one per grade level, could be fairly categorized as "dances.") Melissa stood on our bench and bounced along with the music. She was disappointed when there were no more dances.

Melissa dressed herself this morning -- in a princess outfit. Then she put on her coat and came to me. "I go to Maffew's teacher and be in a show. I dance a princess dance. And all the boys will dance with me. And Maffew will watch with you on the bench."

I hope she isn't too mad when she realizes this isn't going to happen no matter how much she begs.

"See these slippers? I need to dance with somebody. A boy. Girls dance with boys. Girls wear dresses to dance." (Actually, none of the girls last night did, but hey.)

I will dance with her. Maybe that will be adequate.

Sometimes the iPhone camera just isn't enough

Sometimes the iPhone camera just isn't enough
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Matthew square dancing.

Tech support hell

This is my Macbook Pro, seen from the back.  See all the cables connecting the LCD to the rest of the machine?  Yeah.  Those aren't supposed to be out in the open like that.

I spent 90 minutes (!) on the phone with Apple this morning reporting this and a couple minor issues to Apple.  You'd think "My machine is falling apart" would elicit a quick response of, "Okay, send it in and we'll fix it."  But no.  We had to jump through all sorts of hoops first.

I think this guy was new, because when I've had to send Rachel's first-generation Macbook in for much smaller problems it was a piece of cake.

Tech support he'll
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Learning the wrong lesson

Everyone remarked on Melissa's much, much shorter hair at church today.  She was happy to explain: "I cut my hair!  Mommy took me to the beauty parlor!"
Couldn't have gone better, from her point of view.

A reply to Chris

Chris wrote,

my companion Elder Kemmerer has a lot of problems with confidence and learning the language I've been trying to help him but he is such a dark cloud and freaking depressing to work with somtimes

I knew a missionary like that, in my last area.  My companion Ricky Olita and I were split up and both given a "greenie" to train.  I got Jeremy Anderson, who was later my brother David's zone leader.  Elder Olita got the short end of the stick with a bad-attitude American whose name I've forgotten.  He moped and dragged everywhere, sullen and begrudgingly.
Elder Olita was possibly the most dangerous man I have met.  He was apparently from a pretty rough part of Mindanao; I don't know if the stories he told about his mom taking out a contract on the men who killed his father were true, but I did get to see his proficiency with fists (via boxing gloves), throwing knives, and nunchucks first hand.  Not a guy to mess with.  When Elder Olita was pissed, he would be quiet, but there was a dark tension in him until the strain grew too great and he exploded.
An intelligent man would have realized that there were better people to take out attitude on than Elder Olita.  Lazy Boy failed this particular IQ test.
The tension built for maybe ten days.  Elder Olita poured out his troubles to me over lunch a few times.  Elder Olita had had a dim view of me as a companion before he got Lazy Boy, but now I shone by comparison.  (Yes, there's a long story there.  Another time.)
Things came to a head one morning when the three companionships in the house left together to begin proselyting.  Elder Olita was last to exit.  He checked his pockets but he didn't have the house key.  He asked Lazy Boy for it.  Lazy Boy took it out of his pocket and threw it overhand at Elder Olita.  Not to him, at him.  Elder Olita jumped at Lazy Boy with death in his eyes, but was intercepted by Elders Greenwood and Anderson.
They had a nice long talk with President Watts after that.  I think Lazy Boy lasted another month.  But not two.
Rachel: "You don't hear this kind of story at the MTC [missionary training center]."
Me: "It's like my mom told me years ago: if the church weren't true, the missionaries would have killed it off long ago."

Room cleaning, week 4

I think Melissa is getting the hang of this.  She only spent all of Saturday morning "cleaning," and did it right away when I announced I was going to the park in 15 minutes and anyone with a clean room was welcome to come.  There were no tantrums.
Matthew had about ten minutes of cleaning to do.  He got it done in time for the park but not in time for break dancing.  He was predictably mad about that.  Maybe next week.  (We went out to dinner after gymnastics practice Friday, and I saw an "urban dance studio" near the restaurant and stopped in.)
Melissa may actually be better about cleaning her room than Matthew now, both in terms of keeping it semi-sanitary and in terms of drama for the weekly hose-out.  She's easily more stubborn than her brother so I am surprised by this development.
Me: "Maybe we need to move more of Matthew's stuff into the common area."
Rachel: "What we need is to throw more stuff away.  Tops.  Unsharpened pencils.  Pieces of robots and legos and medals and odd coins and marbles.  Where do you put stuff like that?"

Life as a series of French classes

My friend Tim tagged me for a "25 random things about me" meme on Facebook.  I don't spend much time on facebook, so if I wrote up a list there it would probably be the first thing people saw about me for the next year or two and I don't know if I want that.  Besides, it gave me so many good ideas to write about that I want to write more about one or two at a time.  And finally, I owe Brian a letter this week, but I couldn't think of anything to write (Rachel always sends him the weekly SP), so this is for you, Brian.  Thanks, Tim!

(Uncharacteristically, perhaps, any errors or hyperbole in this post are accidental.  I'm sure my family will chime in with corrections.  We are nothing if not pedantic.)

I grew up with a father who wished he lived in a French-speaking country.  I don't remember him ever coming out and saying that but I'm pretty sure it's true.  I remember that by first grade he'd taught me a few words -- pamplemousse is the only one I remember from that era, before we moved to New Jersey -- but he didn't really dig in with a vengeance until Christine was born when I was 11.  He decided that he would speak only French to Christine, a resolution he kept until her adolescent anguish over being "different" got him to stop.  Although it was too late for the rest of us to pick up French purely by osmosis -- Telitha, the next youngest, was already six -- he instituted French Mornings so the rest of us could get some practice too.

This is how stubborn my father is: not only did he speak French to us every morning, he insisted that we reply in kind.  "En Français!" he would say, if we used English with him.  Often he would first have to tell us how to say it en Français first, but he was patient.  The rest of us, however, were not, and mostly spoke to each other in English.

Fifth grade was my first experience with public school foreign language education.  I don't remember the teacher's name.  I do remember tests about passé composé and other parts of speech.  If it weren't for Dad I would have quit right then: you don't learn a foreign language by memorizing grammatical rules, as proven by the millions of Americans with as much as 8 years trying.  Nor is it any fun.  But you can test it, and there's a certain kind of command-and-control personality that, having learned the wrong lessons from the success of the assembly line, insists that measuring (and optimizing for) a bad metric is better than measuring none.  This is flat-out wrong, both in software engineering and in education.

So what I really remember from fifth grade French class is an unctuous boy named Chad teaching me that "trojan" was another name for "condom," and "rubber" denoted a small one.  Ah, public education: reducing culture to the lowest common denominator, and not even completely accurately at that.

I also remember the teacher having us choose French names to address each other by in class.  Most of us took French analogues of our American names -- I chose Jean; William chose Guillaume, and so forth.  But the more flamboyant personalities chose wildly different names.

Sixth grade I was home schooled.  Then I convinced my parents to let me go back to public school for good, because it was so much easier.

For seventh and eighth grades I had Mme. Pinelli.  She spoke both English and French with a heavy accent, which from her surname I assumed was Italian.  More grammar drills.

Mme. Pinelli wanted us to assert, "Je sais!" [I know] when we raised our hands to answer a question.  I reported this to Dad, who pointed out that "Je le sais" was more correct.  There is enough of my father in me that I couldn't stand to knowingly practice the wrong form, so I marked myself by saying it differently than my peers every time.  I don't think the teacher appreciated being implicitly corrected, either, although I was not dumb enough to actually tell anyone else they were saying it wrong.

As a high school freshman I almost got into the advanced French class on the strength of actually being able to make myself understood in French, to a point.  But less than a week into class, the bureaucracy noticed, and I was sent to M. Gendaszek's freshman class, while the senior I had been sitting next to stayed, despite being unable even to pronounce the advanced teacher's name.  Not that I am bitter. (He pronounced Poncin roughly the same as "poisson," much to M. Poncin's dismay.  But I'm sure he knew his grammar.)

I have no strong memories at all of M. Gendaszek's class.

I really enjoyed sophmore and junior years with M. Poncin.  (This is a difficult name for Americans because its phonemes are not found in English -- it's pronounced like the French words pont and sein, if that helps.)  He was a native of Lyon, and had a delightful French accent.  He was a rebel who actually wanted to teach his students some French, so while he went through the motions of testing grammar and so forth, he spent most of his classes trying to get us to practice his language.

On Fridays, M. Poncin would show us an episode of French in Action, or as he called it, Mireille et Robert.  (Still possibly the best French tutorials ever produced.  My father meticulously recorded them on VHS when they aired on PBS one year; they are very expensive to buy officially -- they target schools, not individuals -- but you can watch them online for free now.)  I remember M. Poncin remarking that he was always amused by how fascinating high school boys found Mireille: not only was the actress who played her pretty, she did not wear a bra.

I've forgotten the name of my last French instructor, in college.  He had a terrible American accent (sensing a pattern?) but he genuinely loved French language and culture.  He spent a year in Paris scraping out a living as a street guitarist.  I still wish I'd done something cool like that.  Sometimes I think that it is not too late, but three kids requires a pretty huge activation energy.

So there's #1 for your list, Tim: 10 years ago, I spoke pretty good French.  The next 24 should be shorter.  If not, I'm sure Brian won't complain.

Drivers Ed

Drivers Ed
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Our church is next to a minor intersection. When Isaac gets bored of all his toys (which happens faster and faster), we go sit in the shade of the big tree on the corner and watch the cars go by.

Isaac likes being outside. He likes the breeze, and he likes the
constant motion of this particular scene.

Child development

Isaac is not very good at letting go of things yet, but he has very definite opinions about when he is bored of a toy. So he will shake his arm violently until the object of his displeasure comes loose. Then he will look at me reproachfully, as if to say, "I meant a GOOD toy."

The chaise-lounge was insufficiently pink

The chaise-lounge was insufficiently pink
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Melissa sprang into action.

Ow

Not the worst injury I've had, but the dumbest.  (And I seem to have a lot of dumb ones.)
Coming down with a cold tonight.  Throat has that "I'm going to be sore tomorrow" itch.  Feeling a little crummy.  So I accept Rachel's offer of a heated rice sock.
Lean back into the couch with the rice sock at the back of my neck.  Ahhh.  Shoot the stuffing out of some insects in Savage Moon.  (I've realized that I've become a casual gamer.  There's too many interruptions to play games that you can't pick up and drop in bite size pieces.  Never thought it would happen to me...)
Twenty minutes later when I came out of my game zone, my neck hurt.  Not an achy hurt but a specific, localized hurt.  Rachel looked at it: I'd gotten a blister, and popped it, from too much heat while concentrating on the game.
Yes, video games really are that distracting.  Good ones, at least.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

The past few weeks our happy Pumpkin has been teething. He'd do pretty well during the day, but for some reason evenings and nights are especially tough, with lots of nighttime waking and crying. Ordinarily when he wakes at night he makes cooing sounds and rustles around a bit. I feed him, change him and he settles back down to sleep fairly easily. All bets are off when teething though...

Last night his second tooth poked through and he went to sleep without fuss. When I woke up it was gray outside, and I heard his muffled crying downstairs. Jonathan awoke before I did and took Isaac downstairs with him figuring that I'd already fed him all through the night.

Except I hadn't.

Isaac slept for 7 hours straight last night! I couldn't believe it. He was one very hungry baby boy! After eating he grinned, played, and cooed. He has never slept for more than 3.5 hours at a time (at most) so I was feeling very refreshed, like whole new woman in fact. Wow! I can't remember the last time I slept through the night, not since sometime in the third trimester... I've spent up to ten hours in bed and still felt exhausted in the morning, but 6 straight hours of sleep were fantastic! It's the first time in a while that I woke up feeling really rested.

Not getting my hopes up, but I wouldn't mind at all if this became a trend. :)

Hygiene

Hygiene
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Matthew is showering on his own, with mostly good results. Tonight, though, Rachel noticed residual shampoo in his hair. This was the result. I was impressed -- that took some upper-body strength!

(I was otherwise occupied -- washing poop off Melissa's fingers. She's supposed to wait for her parents to wipe the poops, but only infrequently observes that rule.)
(Rachel would like the record to show that Matthew was not naked.)

Sigh...

While I bathed Isaac, Melissa was busy.

There was a big ball of hair in the toy wagon and scissors in her room. We went to the beauty parlor, but they aren't miracle workers. Considering what she had to work with, it's much better.

the front

and the back

That's my kid, the kind of funny looking one. I know it's just hair, but I'm a little sad about it. Sigh.

How to tell when it's no longer an employees' market

How to tell when it's no longer an employees' market
Originally uploaded by jbellis

The free snack closet isn't is replenished for weeks, and then one of
these appears instead.

Teething

About a week and a half ago Jonathan noticed something sharp when Isaac gnawed on his finger. Isaac's first tooth had popped up. Looking in his mouth today I can see another tooth ready to emerge anytime. This is not surprising since he is constantly chewing on things. Now you'll have to excuse me while I hunt down another teether for our son to clamp down on, he's bored of the blue one...

Whew! So glad it was a dream....

Last summer I borrowed fine violin from a dear former teacher of mine so I could play at Grandpa's funeral. Thank goodness it did not end up like my dream!

So I borrow the expensive violin and placed it up on the top self of a bookcase. Since I intend to practice in a few minutes the violin is not in its case. Matthew's coloring books are also on the top shelf and he asks if he can color. "Sure, Matthew. Just wait a minute and I'll go get them for you." Matthew decides not to wait. He pulls a chair over to the bookcase and reaches up up on his tiptoes. I come into the room just as the violin teeters on the shelf. "Wait! Don't do anything!" "Mom! I can fix it!" he says and stretches up to push the violin back on the shelf. He misses and it falls crashing to the tile floor, splintering into pieces.

Ohhhh! How could I explain this to Mr. Jasinski? He trusted me!

Glad I woke up.

Room cleaning, week 3

I had Melissa pick up her clothes Wednesday night, so Friday should have been easy.  But she tried to pull a fast one, throwing everything into her closet and declaring, "all done!"

Mommy wasn't fooled, and ordered a real pick up.  Melissa dug in her heels, all the way until bedtime.

Saturday morning after breakfast, Matthew got to play video games since he had cleaned his room, and without drama, too.  I told Melissa she was welcome to join him for some TV after she cleaned her room.  "I can't do it," she tearfully declared.  "I can't do it!"  I was firm and there was much stomping and wailing.  Then it got quiet, and 20 minutes later she came down.  "I clean my room!"  And she had.

Speaking of cleaning rooms, here's another take on the subject:

Parents' dilemma

It is quiet. The kids are asleep, even Isaac (in his mother's arms). Rachel and I can have a quiet conversation together, or even be quiet and hear ourselves think.

It's also 11:30.

This is when we start thinking, "I need to go to bed soon, or I'll be tired tomorrow." But also, "if I go to bed, it will seem like less time before the kids are up. So I'd rather stay up and enjoy the peace."

Eventually sanity always prevails. Eventually.

Matthew the monkey

Craft time

Craft time
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Matthew was painting a model boat. (The boat is the blue object.)

Here he is cleaning the paint off the floor (by which I mean, smearing it around) after he tracked it there with his socks, which is why they are next to him instead of on his feet.

His shirt was already a casualty; it's behind him.

As far as I know, he did not get any paint on his pants.

The best day ever

Matthew was looking forward to Monday. I'll let his teacher explain:

Matthew has been just a joy! In fact this morning he was on announcements for winning the CHAMP of the week. His picture will be posted in the front of the school hallway. He won out of all K, 1, and 2nd grade. Children receive blue tickets when they are caught showing good character. Their name is placed in a box and one name is drawn every Friday from the K, 1st, and 2nd box. He was the winner this week and since this is the first week we have started the system he is the first winner as well. He receive a metal this morning. You should be proud!

You, gentle reader, have it easy: before Rachel mailed his teacher (about his report card -- she volunteered the rest), we'd slowly puzzled out much of the above from fragmented kindergartener explanations. ("I got a blue ticket!" "Why?" "They caught me doing champs!" "What's champs?" "I don't know." Later, I explain to Rachel, "they caught him doing stamps." "Not stamps!" Matthew interrupted angrily. Maybe he thought I was making a joke at his expense, but I couldn't remember. "Well, something like that. What was it?" "I don't know." In another moment of lucidity he explained that it had to do with being quiet while the teacher talks and sitting with your legs crossed. So we supposed it was something good.)

The initial ticket was last week. Then, Matthew told us, they were going to draw all the blue ticket names from a hat "in front of the whole school!" And if your name comes out, you get a medal!

Matthew was sure his name was going to be drawn. I tried to prepare him for a let down: "all the other kids want their name to come out, too. It's all right if it's not yours." But he was sure, and I warned Rachel as I left to work, "he is going to be really pissed after school." Matthew does not take disappointment well.

Instead, he came home on cloud nine. His name really was drawn. God loves Matthew, I guess.

So, that is why he couldn't wait til Monday. It was a little surreal: normally little disappointments draw out the Grumpy Matthew inside. But today little pleasures drew out the Happy Matthew instead. He opened the lunch Rachel packed last night, and exclaimed, "Fruit salad! I love fruit salad! This is the best lunch ever!"

A high standard to live up to

Rachel just got off the phone with her dad. Apparently The Savage Peanut is her Grandma's home page.

I don't think I've ever been on a home page before. Wow. That's pretty cool.

Hi, Grandma!

The downside to 1:00 church

The downside to 1:00 church
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Or is it an upside? Melissa fell asleep on my lap.

More Melissisms

When shown by her Daddy how to play a game that was a little too tricky for her yet, "Daddy, I just a small girl."

If asked to do something she doesn't want to do we'll hear a sad voice, "Mama, I got a belly ache. I need to go to da doctor." (It doesn't work, instead if she's "sick" she can lie down for a nap.)

At an Italian restaurant: "Can I have macaroni pizza?" (meaning pepperoni)

"Daddy! Look! Mommy made pony hair!" She twirled around to show off the pony tail. She actually likes having her hair done now and insists on it every day. I kind of wish she wanted it just brushed and in ringlets, but she wants a hair-do.

They grow up so fast. Melissa announced to me that on her next birthday she'll turn 20! Whatever happened to years 4-19?

Every day we walk to Matthew's school to pick him up in the afternoons. We pass a man with his two golden retrievers on the way each day and Melissa has to pet them. They stand as tall as Melissa and are extremely kid-tolerant. She's not a bit afraid of those two big dogs. She hugs them, chatters at them as if they can understand her (who knows? perhaps they can) and giggles if they lick her cheek.

Since the job market is rather tight right now and is likely to remain tight for princess applicants for the foreseeable future, Jon and I are trying to direct Melissa's attention to more practical/productive career paths. Her dress up box is going to contain more than frilly dresses and ridiculous jewelery. I found some adorable pink scrubs (with a working stethoscope!) for Melissa to dress up as a doctor or nurse. I can't wait to give them to her on her birthday. She informed me a few days ago that she wanted to work with computers Just Like Daddy when she grows up. We'd be in favor of that. A programmer's uniform is pretty simple though, a free t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Voila!

That's not ice cream

That's not ice cream
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Like her uncles David and Chris, Melissa likes butter. Straight.

How to drive your brother crazy

How to drive your brother crazy
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Play "Calling all Cars." Make no effort to attack other cars or catch the criminal.

Poor Matthew kept offering to show her what to do. But she was happy just driving around.

Isaac is the necessity of invention

Isaac is the necessity of invention
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Isaac is old enough to grow easily bored but not yet able to crawl and entertain himself that way.

Having exhausted the baby toy isle at walmart, anything not obviously dangerous is likely to be pressed into service.

Downsides to living in San Anonio

• The churrascarias are twice the price as in Utah. Literally. (But less expensive than the one I ate at in Chicago. I was hungry, and I thought I knew the drill: who needs to see a menu?)
  
• Woot updates at midnight instead of at 11 PM. I am old now and almost never still awake at midnight. The really good woots are always gone by morning.
• Only McDonald's has play areas. And possibly Joe's Crab Shack but we tried that once and even seafood-loving Rachel was underwhelmed. Plus I can't help but think "I got the crabs at Joe's" when I see the sign.
• Major commuting freeway stretches with only two lanes in each direction? Seriously?
• No community orchestra (!)
• All the good Ultimate fields are in use by high school football teams
• There are no bike paths in the outer parts. Downtown, yes. Suburbia, no. (This one's for you, Dad.)

Frontier justice

Frontier justice
Originally uploaded by jbellis

This appeared on the wall of the mens' room at work.

The PTA bulletin finds its purpose

The PTA bulletin finds its purpose
Originally uploaded by jbellis

It isn't really any less useful missing a couple sheets.

The room wars, week 2

We ended up only moving Melissa's toys to the toy room.  I had her pick up her clothes each night with the result that her Friday clean only took ten minutes and no whining.

Matthew took 3 hours to clean his room.  And by clean his room I mean, complain bitterly in between being sent out to put things away -- so Rachel could throw one of his treasured scraps of paper away without him being the wiser.  (And by scraps I mean literally scraps: shreds of ripped-up paper.  Matthew is a pack rat.)  Rachel got about half the toys out, too.

And yet Matthew asked me tonight if he can do extra chores "to get dollars" so he can buy stuff: "if you buy lots of stuff at school you can choose what you get."  (Somebody needs to be deprogrammed from the fund raising brain washing.)  The obvious reply was, "you couldn't even clean your room without complaining, and you want me to pay you to do chores?"  But I was in Burned Out End of the Day Mode so my tired brain resorted to the default defense: "I'll talk it over with Mommy."

More gender-appropriate activity

More gender-appropriate activiity
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Melissa doesn't ONLY do girly stuff. She just likes it a LOT.

Lord of the dance

Lord of the dance
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Matthew is at a birthday party. Unknown to him I came back to the play gym and got his sister a ticket too.

I found Matthew on the dance floor. He stayed there until they roped it off to show a movie.

Matthew is one of two or three boys among a dozen little girls.

(The action shots came out too blurry so you're stuck with this.)

Semantics

"I'm going to take a quick shower," I announced. "Actually," I teased, "maybe I'll take a Mommy shower," meaning not quick.

"Okay," Rachel said. "You get in the shower, and I'll hand you Isaac."

Doh!

(Isaac tolerated the shower, but there were no wiggles and grins of delight as in the bathtub.)

Melissa's world

Melissa climbed onto my lap, dressed in full princess costume. I decided I was the Dragon. "Do you know what dragons do with princesses? They eat them!" The I tickled her and gave her "blowfishes" while she squealed her approval.

Then she kissed me. "You a prince!"

"What do princes do with princesses?"

She thought about that.

"They dance!"

Welcome Jedidiah!

I see your father lost his bid to name you "Iron Stallion Ellis IV." Dodged a bullet there, kiddo. 1 hour of labor, my goodness you were in a hurry to get here!!! You picked fantastic parents too, very good call little one. Your Uncle Jon and Aunt Rachel are sure excited to meet you someday soon.

Congratulations Grant and Lisa! We're so happy for you!

(Jonathan adds: I'm glad that my brother was able to name his son Jedidiah since Rachel didn't let me. Little "Jedi!")

Endocrine systems, a go!

I took Isaac to the endocrine clinic a few days ago. It's at a teaching hospital so we saw 4 doctors. The fellow (training to be a pediatric endocrinologist) did Isaac's assessment, history, and plan. She had a resident with her. The fellow was very well informed about UPD6 and even some obscure long term possibilities (way down the road) like HFE-associated hereditary hemochromatosis. I was very pleased with the research she'd put into it, and felt like we were on the same page. After she did her evaluation, the endocrinologist came in for a few minutes with an intern.

Since his diabetes is in remission right now, there isn't as much to be concerned about. In times of illness his blood glucose may spike, so we were given a script for insulin and advised to monitor him closely when he's sick. The fellow demonstrated how to dilute insulin at home so we won't have to rely on a special pharmacy on a weekend. Simple enough. It's all in a bag which I hope I won't have to open. It is reassuring to have it though, in the event...

Isaac is growing well! He's long, 75th percentile, and chunky, 90th percentile. His doctors feel that he is right where he should be as far as growth is concerned. They also did an A1c, which was 5.6. He's well within normal, non-diabetic, limits.

At the clinic, he was a terrible flirt. He charmed the nurse who measured and poked him. "Aww, what a cute little fellow you are!" He flashed gummy grins at all of the doctors, and kicked and squealed with delight when they smiled back at him. You can't help but grin at this happy, social baby.

Isaac rolling away. He rolls back to tummy and tummy to back with ease now.

A little water never hurt anyone

A little water never hurt anyone
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Rachel was taking a shower, so I didn't notice the sound of the faucet at first. When I did, it looked like it had just started overflowing, so I turned it off and put a towel under where it was dripping. Later I noticed it was _still_ dripping and opened the cupboard. It was full of water. I opened the drawers: also full of water, with the less-dense contents floating. The carpet nearby was squishy with water. I guess it had been running a little longer than I thought at first!

Wringing out towels makes your hands feel chapped and sore a lot faster than you'd guess.

Christmas Pictures

Well, better late than never!

Matthew had many questions about Santa this year. "But how does he get to all those houses in ONE night?" We just turned the question back to him, "Well, how do you think?" He had some pretty ingenious answers to his own questions. Someday he won't believe in Santa anymore, and I will be a little sad that the world is a bit less magical for him.

When Santa asked Melissa what she wanted for Christmas this year, she responded, "A candy cane!" That worked out well, as he just so happened to have one for her. I bet Santa wished they were all so easy to please.



The kids were quite busy exploring stockings and goodies left out. This bought mom and dad a few winks Christmas morning.

Melissa loved her beads. Truthfully, she loved everything Christmas morning. Very, very exciting!

Matthew read the note from Santa all by himself. He's getting to be a pretty good reader. I often leave notes in his lunch which he also delights to read. In some ways Matthew is really easy. After getting a jump start from his parents, he pretty much taught himself how to read. We encourage him and read with him, but nothing fancy or time consuming.








One of Isaac's favorite gifts this year was his taggie blanket made by grandma. He loves fingering, batting at, and most of all chewing the satin loops of ribbon all along the edges. It's a toy and blanket all in one!

Decent People

Our family seems to have the good fortune of running into good people everywhere we go, people who really look out for others and go the extra mile.

I took the kids to the hardware store to get a curtain rod and drapes. I needed an eight foot rod to fit the windows. On the way out I was carrying Isaac, a purse, the cumbersome rod, and holding Melissa's hand. Matthew carried the shopping bag for me. Naturally we were parked far from the exit. A young guy, probably in his early 20s, noticed us limping along and offered to help. Thank you! As we walked towards towards the car he talked about how he enjoyed being an uncle. He didn't have kids of his own yet, but liked babysitting his nephew. He helped get the rod in the car and then turned around to go back into the store. What a nice guy.

A chair and the top to the armoire got damaged in the move. The moving company called in a furniture repairman to fix them. He came by took the chair and the broken piece of the armoire and return two days later with both fixed. The chair's repair is so well done that you have to look very closely to see crack where the arm broke off. Nicely done. He was a cheerful, pleasant man native to San Antonio, and in his 40s. After screwing the top in place to the armoire, I asked him how I could fix the tongue that the groove which held drawer rested upon. He took a look at that and said, "Oh I can fix that in just a few minutes." And he did.

Afterwards he said he would be willing come back and help lift the armoire to slide something under the front feet to raise it a bit so that the armoire wouldn't angle forward so much because it was front heavy and the doors would close better. He did come back when Jon was home, and together they lifted. After that, he fixed the doors so they aligned nicely, placed new catches for the doors, and stained a part that was a bit worn. We bought the armoire several years ago at a scratch and dent sale for a fraction of the original price. While a solid piece of wood furniture, it had some problems. When the furniture repairman was done, it was quite a bit better than we had bought it. He spent a good half hour fixing it, and when he was finished, he wouldn't accept any payment. We were stunned. I did give him some Almond Roca, but it seemed pretty poor compensation for his efforts.

Wow!

A letter to Brian

Rachel told me her brother Brian was a little discouraged in Brazil.  This is what I wrote him.
I remember being dropped into the deep end of the foreign language pool. Actually, it wasn't a pool; you can easily get to the edge of a pool to take a break. It was a lake. Sink or swim. My trainer was Filipino and we were the only companionship in our apartment. I was the only native English speaker for miles. A lot of members spoke some English but it was easier to just talk to Elder Gamboa. I had no idea what anyone was saying; all the words ran together.

I looked forward to our weekly service projects since that (and district meeting) was the only time I got to speak to someone I understood -- there was another American in the next area over and we usually did our service projects together.

It was particularly frustrating because Elder Gamboa had been in the branch for close to forever. He was a friendly man and everyone liked him. For large parts of the day we'd have district missionaries with us, so everyone was chattering away with Elder Gamboa and each other and I had no idea what was going on.

Elder Gamboa didn't understand what the big deal was. "You speak Tagalog fine. Better than Elder MyFirstGreenie." I don't think he understood the vast difference between speaking a few words and being able to understand actual conversations, or if he had once, he had forgotten it. I coped by memorizing the first two discussions in Tagalog. At least that way I didn't have to read my discussion pamphlet, which was just adding insult to injury.

One night a couple weeks in, everyone was talking away as we walked towards a jeepney stop. I was frustrated enough that it showed in my body language and one of the district missionaries, a nice older woman (it's all relative -- I think she was 24, but I was 19) named Rose asked, "What's wrong, Elder Ellis?" I replied, in French, "j'ne comprends rien du tout et ca m'enerve!" "I don't understand," she said, puzzled. "Exactly," I said bitterly.

So I had a lot of time to go over the entries in my Tagalog notebook. Whenever I heard a word or phrase that I didn't understand I wrote it down, and when I had time I would ask Elder Gamboa what they were. Sometimes I got the word separations so wrong that we couldn't figure out what I had heard. And I got used to speaking like a two year old -- a slightly retarded two year old, at that. But whenever I had a chance to participate, I took it. If you're reluctant to look like a fool, you'll never learn a new language. Kids don't care; that's one reason they learn so quickly. And I tried to read; the Book of Mormon translation we had at the time was rendered into very archaic Tagalog, so that wasn't as much help as it might have been. But the Liahona was great.

You're right that sometimes ignorance _is_ bliss. I remember one time a tricycle driver tried to overcharge us. Mostly missionaries were immune to "the white tax," but occasionally someone would try to get a little extra out of us. Or maybe we were inadvertently stiffing him -- I don't know, but Elder Gamboa was certain that we were in the right and he was damned if he was going to pay an extra centavo. After arguing for a while the driver finally spat out something I didn't catch, wheeled around, and left. I asked Elder Gamboa what he had said, but Elder Gamboa only told me, "he was angry." You don't say.

Much later I found out that "puta ang ina mo" literally means "your mother's a whore" and is basically the idiomatic equivalent of "f*** you," and I realized, hey, that's what that driver told us!

Another one. About a year into my mission, when I spoke Tagalog better, I met a Filipino elder in my district who took a sly delight in teaching me a little about Tagalog double entendres. There was a popular song at the time titled Kama Supra (super bed), whose refrain went, "hihiga tayo at kakan...ta" -- "we'll lie down and sing." It turns out that by pausing in the middle of kakanta, they were implying that they were going to say kakantotan instead: "we'll lie down and have sex." That was an enlightening moment. I missed that guy when he was transferred.

She's on a rampage

She's on a rampage
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Rachel was fed up with fighting the kids about cleaning their rooms.
We decided to move all the toys to "the kids' area" at the top of the
upstairs landing. While she was at it , she unboxed the rest of the
upstairs, assembled a new toy chest for Matthew and two bookcases, and
re-arranged our furniture.

Unfortunately, I don't have a "before" picture, but here is the kids'
area "after."

Melissa gives a talk

Melissa gives a talk
Originally uploaded by jbellis

I took Matthew to the Primary room to practice his talk. Melissa
tagged along. When Matthew was done, she wanted a turn. She got up and gave a talk about her family.

Melissa is an unconventional sleeper

Melissa is an unconventional sleeper
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Modesty

Modesty
Originally uploaded by jbellis

Five Months Today

A little developmental update:

Isaac can now push his torso up off of the ground. He can also pivot around in a circle while on his tummy. Today I noticed Isaac pushing himself backwards with his arms. I don't think that was the desired direction, however. He was pushing himself further and further away from a toy and seemed quite upset by that.

Mealtimes with Isaac are more interesting now. Before we could just hold him on our laps and he'd be content to watch the action at the table. Now he wants to participate by grabbing utensils, napkins, and whatever else he can reach in his chubby fingers. If successful he'll either try to put it in his mouth or sweep it onto the floor. We've had a few close calls, but no plates of food dumped onto our laps- yet. We do keep some Isaac appropriate diversions on the table just for him, but he is still drawn towards the big people things.

Takin' it easy

I didn't want to tempt fate, so I stayed in pajamas until it was time to pick Matthew up from school.

Feeling much, much better today. The fever dropped dramatically several hours after starting the antibiotics. When it got down to 101 I was feeling almost lively.

Fever is gone today, but the right breast is still exquisitely painful. Why, why, why is it always the same side? I'm sorely tempted to just nurse Isaac on the left side. Never had a bit of grief on that side....

The trend is at least going in the right direction. With Matthew I had 4 bouts of mastitis before he weaned; the first when he was around a month. Melissa it was 3 times. The first was when she was 3 weeks, and I got so sick we decided to head to the ER- just in case. Had a raging fever of 104 despite being on antibiotics for over 24 hours and taking motrin. In addition, fluids weren't staying down. Turns out it was "just" mastitis. Felt rather sheepish about that. Still, they gave me an all purpose, stronger antibiotic which must have started eradicating the bacteria, because the fever dropped fairly quickly.

Isaac is 5 months, and this is the first and I'm hoping (knock on wood) last time. Please?

So why do I continue to breastfeed? When I look down at my deliciously plump, satisfied baby with milk dribbling down his chin, and then he looks up at me and grins, well, how could I not?

Don't shoot the messenger

Overheard in the car:

"Melissa, when you grow up you're going to have babies. It will hurt. A lot. And you will probably scream a little. You will get a sore bottom. And you will be glad to have your baby."

Don't show Melissa this picture

Don't show Melissa this picture
Originally uploaded by jbellis

She is very possessive of her ponies.

Yuck

It's a cold, rainy day, and I have mastitis.

I'm wearing warm pjs, a bathrobe, and thick socks, yet I'm still freezing. The thermostat says it's 70, but I think it lies.

Melissa can have anything she wants today.

Update: Melissa can have almost anything she wants. She wanted me to do her hair, and I'm not really able to remain upright for ten minutes at a time. A grand mal tantrum ensued, with Isaac joining in the chorus. 45 minutes of this and she tired of it. Then she wanted me to read a story. That I can do- lying down. Jiggled Isaac to keep him somewhat pacified. Body aches!!! Convinced little Miss to go wash her ponies in the bathroom sink so I could try to get Isaac down. Works. Isaac is sleeping and Melissa is happily splashing.

Now I'm only freezing on the lower half of my body. The upper half is on fire. I always forget just how miserable this stuff is.

Drinking lots of water, but am not hungry AT ALL. Uggghhh!

Update2: Can't do it, getting sicker, called Jon.

Why is this woman eating dinner in bed?

Why is this woman eating dinner in bed?
Originally uploaded by jbellis

An experienced husband knew immediately: she's hiding from the kids.

Peanuts

• Melissa, giggling: "Daddy! You have a squishy tummy!" Thanks!
  
• Today we dressed Isaac in pants that Matthew wore at 14 months. Remember that Matthew was around 10th percentile in size, so Isaac is not a total monster -- he's huge compared to our first two, but his cousin James (for instance) was bigger. Isaac is 85th percentile.
  
• Matthew could tie his shoes if he practiced a little, but he gets frustrated when it doesn't work the first time. "I'm never going to be able to tie shoes!"
• Church starts at 1:00 PM this year, instead of 9:00 AM. We were on time.
  
• Matthew volunteered to give another talk in Primary; I guess he enjoyed it. Rachel and I were a little less enthusiastic: helping him prepare is hard work. I guess it's a good thing though if he gets a head start in Not Being Petrified Of Public Speaking.
  

At the zoo

At the zoo
Originally uploaded by jbellis

By far, the kids' favorite exhibit at the zoo is "the riverbank,"
where getting sandy and wet -- especially, wet -- is encouraged.

They also have benches for timid moms and dads, so we stopped for a
good long splash.

The fun ended when Melissa persisted in throwing sand in the water.

At a restaurant by the zoo

We used to sit across from each other, gaze into each others' eyes, and talk about our plans for the future.

Now we have three kids. We don't plan; we put out fires.

Peanuts

• I kicked the new year off with a bang: I had my Cheerios in whole milk. Hell yes!
  
• Monkey see, monkey do: I complimented Matthew on his balance on Mommy's wobble board -- he's really quite good. As soon as he got off, Melissa jumped on to show her stuff. (Not as impressive.)
• We are now a two-TV family: I got a CRT SDTV at wal-mart for the kids' room. That way, the kids can watch DVDs while the adults do something downstairs. More importantly, I can play Rock Band and Guitar Hero. (Rachel does not want the instruments in her living room.)
• It's fun watching the kids discover things for the first time. Recently they tasted sherbet and loved it. (I'm not sure why it took six years -- I don't think Rachel is a big sherbet fan.) They are also enjoying pop-tarts as part of Operation Get Melissa Some Calories. I never had pop-tarts as a kid and now I am too old. (To my aged taste, they are far too sweet, but kids would eat sugar with a spoon if you let them.)
• Isaac looks like he's on track to sleep through the night by the time he's two, just like his brother and sister.
• When Matthew's mouth starts moving, the rest of him stops. He and Melissa are supposed to help me with the kitchen, and usually Matthew does a lot more than his sister since he's that much more capable. But last night he would not shut up, and Melissa and I did the whole thing while he stood by the silverware drawer chatting and not putting silverware away. As I recall, his subject was how he was going to save up for an iPhone and how cool it was going to be. It's a good thing that anticipation is part of the fun, because that's all he's going to have for a long, long time.
  
• Matthew has been trying to work "heck" into his vocabulary Just Like Daddy. (Sorry, Abby -- that's as strong as my language gets around the kids.) He's not very good at it: "What is heck that?" he will ask. Or this morning: "What is heck smells burning?"
• On the phone with Dad the other day, he mentioned that he liked to get us presents he wanted when he was a kid. Me too! That's why Matthew has so many video games.
  

Melissa finally gets to open her beads

Melissa finally gets to open her beads
Originally uploaded by jbellis

-Jonathan