Let's Play It By Ear

T Minus One Month

2011-10-03T22:00:00.000-07:00

Well, she's gone and done it. Bean is on her way to being one year old. I know her eleven-month birthday was a while ago, but here's some cute pictures and descriptors anyway.

First off, her big milestone of the month is crawling. THE BEAN, SHE CRAWLS. Meaning, portraits this month were much harder than previous months. I'd set her next to the stuffed animal where I wanted her and, BOOM, she was off. It's no longer trying to catch a smile, but just trying to catch her. She also has increased her aversion to the headbands of glory. It's a tough combination.

We did some photos naked:

And some not. Even though naked has been our way of doing things, here in Utah clothes are more necessary more often.

I did find the solution to the headband dilemma. Distraction by Cheerios.

Smiles are overrated anyway.

So, the other big news of the month is that Bean is allergic to tomatoes. It's pretty sad. She loves them. And I love them. And I have no idea how to cook/feed a family without them. We're counting on it being an infant allergy that doesn't last. We'll see.

Also, she can finally frigging sit up from a laying down position all on her own. The crawling gave her that. I'd really given up on it. Sad, right? I really thought she'd be 17 and not able to sit up. Turns out, I was wrong. Phew. But now she can sit up in bed and cry if I try to give her some time to "cry it out." That sucks for both of us.

Another addition is that she can no longer handle being washed. There are many tears after every meal when I wipe her hands and face. Baths are touch-and-go (To use the colloquialism; I'm not speaking literally here. I'm not sure what the literal meaning would be, but it seems sketchy in terms of a baby's bath). She must really love being filthy. Also, I've learned that tortured is in the eye of the tortured.

She still weighs about 20 lbs and is kinda tall, but not really (We haven't taken her to the pediatrician for the official stats. We're trying to maintain our status as "dirty hippies."). Her head seems proportional. She looks less like a baby and more like a little girl every day.

That's it. When she turns one in, like, a minute, I'll tell you more.

Can you just see her asking, "Why are you doing this to me?" Poor kid.

Conclusion: Bigger really IS better.

Just Before Eleven

2011-09-01T22:24:00.000-07:00

So, it's true. Bean is ten months old. And we left Dominica. And we're settling back into Utah. I keep thinking I will blog my little fingers off, telling you all about our adventures getting home (seriously, it's a funny story. Well, funny/aggravating), and celebrating the sort-of birthday, as well as posting pictures of all that has been going on. BUT, between the settling and the visiting and the having my power cord die, I just am not anywhere near blogging. Maybe I'll tell you soon. Maybe not.

Anyway, she's ten months and some and literally cuter than ever. Regarding percentiles, I'm sure she's 100% in everything, because she seems pretty dang perfect to me (that's what those numbers measure, right?). Hopefully I'll get a picture of when she turns eleven months.

Until then . . . .

Nesting

2011-07-24T18:49:00.000-07:00

There's a tree just across the street from our house that every night fills with . . . well, Ask.com and Google tell me they are called Cattle Egrets. So we'll go with that. They are pretty white birds and they congregate nightly in this one tree. They seem to ignore all the other trees. It makes that one look pretty magnificent as the sun is setting.

Conclusion: It is easy to forget that what is familiar is often also spectacular.

Leather. Or Crystal. Or Glass.

2011-07-24T18:06:00.000-07:00

Recently Wonderman and I celebrated our three-year anniversary. It was a quiet celebration, but a wonderful day. It is such a joy just to know what an awesome choice we made and how lucky we are to be here, together.

The coolest thing about marrying your best friend (I know, blah, blah, blah - that's what all lame people who are "so in love" say about getting married, but hear me out) is that you really do get to spend a ton of time hanging out with the person you most want to hang out with - in the whole world. That's pretty awesome. Plus, when you're hanging out, you also get to make out whenever you want, which is also cool.

Conclusion: Marriage rocks.

Neuf - [That's French for "Nine"]

2011-07-24T18:00:00.000-07:00

That's right. Ze bebe' is nine months old. Intense, right? She's getting so grown up. For example:

Bean's basic stats are as follows:

Weight: Heavy
Length: Long
Head circumference: Really?
Percentiles: Off the charts, I'm sure.

Can you tell we don't really go to the pediatrician here? Meh. She's fat and happy, so we don't worry about it. She has one tooth that has broken through just barely, and one that will be this side of the gum-line any day now. She is REALLY close to crawling and every day I think she's going to just start going for it, but she's still just a scooter. However, she is an expert scooter and gets around quite well. She often eats (nearly) man-sized portions, but is still nursing with regularity. She is laughing harder and more often every day. She is starting to assert some independence as she tries to get me to stop doing what she doesn't like (such as me trying to wash her arms during her bath. She hates it. Not sure why. Probably because that means she can't grab stuff.). She is very busy and is always exploring and reaching for everything she can. In the bath (read: kitchen sink), she can pull herself up to a vertical kneel (which makes me quite nervous some days), but she still seems to have zero desire to pull herself up on her feet, or put her full weight on them. Ever. She babbles all day long. She sleeps through the night, except for when she doesn't feel like it (teething has been a little tough). She has some serious stranger anxiety and cries if someone new comes into our house and I'm not holding her. She also cries (screams?) when anyone other than me or Wonderman holds her. Still, in my arms she is quite the flirt and loves to interact with other people, especially other children (and especially when they should be being quiet during church. Oops).

Oh, and here's a major milestone for this month: She had her fist kiss!!!!! Our friend's little boy was quite entranced with Bean and kissed her - twice! - one day when we were hanging out. He kissed her cheek and her forehead. It was sweet and adorable. He's even an older man - two years old! We're going to have to keep our eye on our little charmer.

Conclusion: We are blessed!

Counting Down

2011-07-15T16:22:00.000-07:00

While we are very excited to get back to the states, and all that entails (TWENTY SIX DAYS!!!), there are some sad bits, too. I am very excited to eat berries. Berries of all kinds. I really love berries. I can't wait to introduce Bean to berries and berries to Bean. However, it is more than a little sad that she is getting to love food like mango (and starfruit and pineapple and bananas [yes, they are better here]) so much, and realistically she may never again have the chance to eat so much (or such) delicious mango in her life.

At least there will be berries.

Conclusion: Everything is a trade-off.

Stuff I Forgot

2011-06-23T19:44:00.000-07:00

It is protocol, isn't it, to list the adorable things a baby is doing currently, when posting about their birthdays? And, alas, I did no such thing. I will blame it on my fevered state. I was today diagnosed with Strep throat, which makes me feel like a kid again, but last night I was just sitting on the couch with the thought "If I don't post about Bean's eight-month mark now, I never will." So you got some pictures, but no info. I know you are waiting on the edge of your seat, so here goes:

Bean has a grand total of zero teeth so far.
She still sits up like awesome when I set her down, but has yet to get herself there (Although, the other day I saw her go down and then I looked over and she was back up, but she did have the help of a pillow behind her. Still, I consider it a big step).
She talks ALL THE TIME. She says "Momma" and "Dadda" with regularity, but seems to have no comprehension what those sounds represent. The talking gets especially interesting in church. She has no concept of being reverent. The other day she even started her high-pitched squealing when we started to sing the closing hymn. Maybe she was just trying to participate. I had a hard time not laughing. Ok, so I broke down laughing, which is a big deal. Singing is, like, my favorite part of church.
She is eating all kinds of solid food, and enjoying every minute of it. She is particularly fond of bananas, honeydew, crackers, and prunes (!).
Her most recent milestone is that she now smiles and sometimes even laughs when I pull funny faces. This is quite the boon, since that is one of my main modes of communication.
She is not crawling, per se, but is definitely mobile. She loves to get under things (things like beds and chairs), but can't always get back out. She hits her head sometimes and then realizes she is stuck. That is where the crying starts. She is starting to do the "lean-really-far-forward-until-her-tummy-is-on-the-floor" thing, which I hear is the precursor to crawling, so I think we're getting somewhere.
Nothing gets her more excited than when Wonderman comes home. Nothing. It's awesome to watch. It might make me a little jealous sometimes. He says it will be the same if I ever leave, but since I have yet to leave her for more than twenty minutes at a time (to shower, and only that long on hair-washing days), I have yet to see it.
She listens to stories very well. For a little while. She still tries to eat books sometimes too.
She has a finger puppet book (you know, with a finger puppet that pokes through every page?), which she loves. She has recently figured out the finger part of the puppet. Every time Wonderman reads it to her, she listens to the page being read, then turns the book over to see where his finger is going in the back and then she tries to put her finger in as well. Adorable, I tell you.
She weighs 19 pounds, and is carrying about 75% of that in her thighs - LOVE them!
When she gets excited, or is happy for any reason, she flaps her arms with joy. I think it's an almost-clap. We'll see how long until she gets there. We're working on the wave, but she has yet to give any indication that she has a desire at all to wave.
She has finally started to appreciate the noise-making component of the rattle I bought her when she was about two days old (I know, what was I doing at Target two days [maybe three] after giving birth?). It still goes in her mouth sometimes, but more often than not she shakes it and smiles. That's gratifying.
Her hair is getting long enough that it tufts out over her ears and makes her look a little bit rag-a-muffin-y. The new length is also making her double cowlick on the back of her head extra adventure-y (read: ridiculous).

That's pretty much all I can think of right now. Here's a cute picture of her, not taken exactly on her 8-month birthday, just because I know that will make the post that much more fun.

Conclusion: I love this kid more every day. That's 243 times a lot.

Acht

2011-06-22T18:02:00.000-07:00

In German it sounds like a sneeze, which is appropriate for someone who sneezes as much as she does. Bean is eight months old. That means we've kept her alive for eight months. I've been a momma for eight months. We are officially closer to one year than zero years. It is pretty awesome.

I know that the cute thing to do is to dress your baby up in an adorable outfit for their "birthday" photo shoot. However, we don't really "do" clothes around here. Meh. She is adorable nonetheless. Or maybe more.

We tried to at least add a cute headband flower thing.

That didn't last very long.

Having a distraction helped with the headband-ing, but not the photo-ing.

Can you see her arms flapping with joy? She is excited to be so grown up.

We also tried a faux-hawk. It was pretty great, for the two minutes that it lasted. This is also the necessary "picture by the same stuffed animal every month so you can see how big she really is" photo.

And this one is just cool perspective to show you how cool she is. Obviously very cool.

Conclusion: Being momma to this Bean is the coolest thing I've ever done, and I've done a lot of cool stuff.

The Hardy Boys Go To The Beach

2011-06-15T19:48:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago, we got to go to one of the most beautiful beaches on the island with - get this - WONDERMAN. It's true, things are a bit less insane once fourth semester is over. We love that aspect of things. LOVE it.

So, the beach is called Batibou Bay. We quickly found ourselves looking forward to what sounded like the title of a Hardy Boys novel - The Mystery of the Baby at Batibou Bay. It has a ring to it, eh?

Anyway, I'd heard it was amazing, but somehow never gotten to this particular beach. Our friend, M, simply could not fathom how long we've been here without going. It's hard to explain the logistics of working and then being pregnant and simple inertia culminating in me not going to all the lovely places there are to see here. I am so grateful I got to come back and that Bean got to see it, too.

It is pretty stellar, as beaches go.

And surprisingly un-hot. Maybe the copious shade is an indicator, but I was still surprised.

It really is the perfect beach. Sun, shade, sand, enough waves to be fun, not so much that it's ever (well, while we were there, I'm sure it has its moments) scary. We could've spent hours and hours more there than we did.

Bean got some sweet Daddy Time:

And got sand in every crevice, not the least of which were fat rolls (delicious!):

She tried to eat a sandy leaf. Wonderman tried to stop her:

And then I let her do whatever she wanted (I've tried to explain to Wonderman my philosophies on the importance of children being allowed to explore, and even eat dirt, but he's not buying it. Still, I'm the one around and in charge most of the time, so eat dirt she will, if she pleases, and she certainly did please.):

She also got to eat some bananas. We're still working on technique.

She took a nap on the beach.

We found a leaf the size of Bean. Well, bigger than Bean, really. BTB, if you want the official term.

All in all, it was a great family outing.

Conclusion: Solving mysteries is rad. All the cool kids are doing it. The Hardy Boys are totally coming back.

Family Portraits

2011-05-18T18:14:00.000-07:00

So, we had a friend of ours take some family portraits a couple months ago, but I didn't want to post them until our moms got their Mother's Day package of pictures. And then I forgot. Oops.

But . . . Here they are! We are so grateful to Paige and her wondercamera!

Wonderman and I pretty much look exactly the same as two months ago, but it's crazy to look at these photos and recognize just how much Bean has changed. Wow. Too bad Paige is gone. Michelle?

Conclusion: This family is forever, yo (and thank goodness)!

ps - we sure made a beautiful baby, no?

Siete!

2011-05-17T19:10:00.000-07:00

It's true, I haven't posted in a bit. Meh. We're still here, living and loving it up in Dominica. Wonderman started his fifth semester yesterday. There are things that make me anxious for these eleven weeks to hurry by (can you say "heat rash?"), but generally I'm already getting pretty sad that we'll be leaving, most likely forever, Dominica so soon.

On a more important note (I may catch up later, but we're going to start with current news), today is Bean's SEVEN MONTH BIRTHDAY! We are having tons of fun. She is getting bigger and cuter and more fun every day. She is a pro roller and she's getting really good at staying upright when I sit her up, but she has yet to find that sitting position on her own. She is toothless, but I can't say that I mind. She is loving solid food and thriving in the warm weather. I have to admit I already wonder how I will function if I have babies that I can't just leave naked when it's convenient, because it's too cold. Especially as she begins eating, naked is MUCH easier. Maybe Alaska really is out of the question. Sigh.

Anyway, here's a naked picture of her and her daddy (only Bean is naked, don't worry) at exactly seven months:

I know, she's a little weird-out-of-focus, but it's by far the cutest one we got today. Gosh, I love that kid! And her daddy!

Conclusion: Seize the pineapple! Celebrate the day!

A Room Full of Idiots

2011-05-03T19:53:00.000-07:00

I remember hearing once that only a baby can turn a group of intelligent adults into a room full of babbling idiots. As Wonderman and I are finding things that make Bean laugh, I see that it's true. We will do ANYTHING to hear that sweet sound. But then, who wouldn't?

This is her reaction to a bouncing ball. Who knew that was so funny?

ps - Wonderman and I both also quite like the end when she decides she's ready to move on to another amusement. Marked and Hilar.

Conclusion: It's the simple things.

Bookworm

2011-04-21T18:25:00.000-07:00

Bean seems to be having tendencies like her momma, i.e. she is a devourer of books:

Conclusion: It may be tough someday to pry her away from a good book to clean her room, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.

The Very Sad Story of the Rhubarb Jam

2011-04-21T18:22:00.000-07:00

I may have mentioned once or twice that life in Dominica is different than life in the United States. Yeah, yeah, it's an island, it's surrounded by water, it's hot and steamy, it's a third world country, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. What it really comes down to is stuff. Americans have lots of stuff. And we like being able to buy more stuff. We also tend to buy stuff that moonlights as food (aka processed food that makes cooking simple-de-dimple). We are generally very stuff-y, we Americans. Where life on the island gets tricky is in the lack of stuff. All things American are, quite understandably, imported. This cuts down on the variety and availability of stuff, while significantly augmenting the price. It would make sense for us to live on locally produced food while we are here (or really anywhere, since apparently eating locally is more important than eating organically [except for this article I read that talked about how to feed that trend local farms are going to all kinds of crazy lengths to produce things that are not native to their climate, which requires treatments that negate all the positives of eating locally so you have to eat not just locally, but what should normally grow locally, not oranges grown in Idaho or something crazy like that]). But we don't always.

One thing that is an interesting issue is jam. The local jam can be good; it can also be weird. Guava and pineapple are definitely more common than grape or strawberry. However, sometimes grape and strawberry can be found. They are generally quite expensive, not the brand we would normally buy, and full of sugar and/or (gasp) high fructose corn syrup (absolutely not good for you). We buy it and eat it anyway.

Last Saturday brought an important campus event - The Fourth Semester Sale. This is where students leaving the island sell off all the stuff they brought with them that they aren't taking back to the states. I love buying food at this sale. There is always some awesome stuff there that you just can't get anywhere else (like chili seasoning mix [I didn't even know it existed], thanks Sindy!). One especially good find this time around was a jar of strawberry rhubarb jam made with sugar (not corn syrup), and not too much of it at all. I was thrilled. It cost us 8 EC, which is about $3 USD. I love rhubarb pie, and had to assume the jam would be just as delightful. I am salivating just thinking about it.

The next day, during breakfast, I got the jam out to look at it lovingly, read its label, and ponder how it should be eaten. Bean was perched in her little chair (that I LOVE, what a great purchase), grabbing at things, as she is wont to do. Her reach increases daily, as does her ability and strength. However, she also spends quite a bit of time just patting anything and everything she can reach, with great gusto. The idea seems to be, if you can't grab, pat. Pat may be too soft of a word. Slap? Smack? Bang? You get the idea. At times she reaches for things that are not particularly baby-friendly, but that are unfortunately baby-appealing (it's a cruel, cruel world). The jar of jam was one of those things. I put it next to her thinking, "Ah, she can enjoy the patting of it and I will keep an eye/hand on it to keep it safe." Have I mentioned it was a glass jar? Yeah. The wildly swinging mitts of Bean were too quick for me. I swear I actually had my hand on the jar and she somehow knocked it backwards off the counter (yes, I put her little chair on the counter, and yes I swear it's solid). I reached just as wildly, but too late. I saw, gratefully (well, hopefully), that it was going to hit the couch that is right behind the counter. Not only is the couch softer than our tile floor, it was also piled with laundry (who would've ever thought that my laziness could be a blessing?). If it hit the couch and rested, all would be well and Momma would've learned a lesson painlessly. But that's not how lessons go, is it? It did hit the couch. And it bounced. And broke open on our tile floor. It had never even been opened. I'll be honest, I considered tasting the bit that was on top and I could tell wouldn't have any glass or floor-dirt contamination. I refrained, but very sadly. The jam is gone. Now we are left with nothing. And I just made bread, too.

Conclusion: The edge of the cliff really is as dangerous as your seminary teacher told you.

Travelin'

2011-03-23T18:25:00.000-07:00

We took Bean to Roseau. It's a trip of about 30 miles that takes an hour. In a crowded van. I was a little worried about it. She was a real trooper (unlike the fictional troopers of Star Wars fame) and traveled quietly and happily. She passed out on the way home. We got a picture the only way we can these days - with the video camera. The video actually gives you an idea of what the ride is like. It may even give you motion sickness. It's still adorable.

Before you ask, no she is not in a car seat, just my lap. Carseats are not really an option around here, at least not with the public transport system. She is protected by my lovin' arms and angels. Lots of prayer goes into it, you know?

Conclusion: When high-risk activity is the norm, it seems safe, but it's still high-risk.

Updates

2011-03-23T18:20:00.000-07:00

First of all, I fully intended to update everyone and let you know that, despite her early promise, Bean has not yet rolled over. However, today SHE DID IT. That, or some boogey man came and put her on her tummy when I wasn't looking. We have a number of videos of her almost rolling over, but I missed all three times that she actually rolled over, so of course there are no pictures of any kind. Sigh. Alas. The third time was the saddest. She rolled from her back to her tummy and she hasn't yet figured out how to go back to her back. When I put her in her crib tonight, she almost immediately rolled over and went to sleep. Adorable, aside from my neurotic concerns about SIDS. Then, just a couple hours later, I heard her screaming. When I went in, she was throwing her arm back with as much force as she could, but she couldn't seem to roll to her back. We've got some work to do, I guess, so we can all continue sleeping well.

Second update: Turns out that Bean was not playing with that spinning-tree-rattle-thing. She just hadn't figured out how to eat it yet. I don't know if she got more reach, more hand-eye coordination, or just more time, but she now grabs it and chews on it much more than she spins and rattles it. She even once pulled it off the tray, and it's a pretty strong suction cup. That's my girl.

(This is where the beginning of the videos really comes in. We think she's adorable. You don't have to. I understand. But her grandma might want to see this. Plus, our still-shot camera died [sniff!], so this is all we got.)

(Can I also comment on my video-voice [not that it's in this video, but the use of the new technology has really brought it to my attention]? So, everyone sounds different in their heads, and everyone knows that, right? Right. Hearing yourself in any recording is WEIRD. Um, mine is, like, twenty times weirder when I'm talking to Bean. It's not even like a cute, sing-songy mommy voice. It's just weird. Not sure why. She may grow up weird. If you stick around, I'm sure I'll post a video that has my Bean voice on it. Weird.)

Conclusion: Time and determination accomplish much that at first may seem impossible.

Carnival Miracle

2011-03-07T20:21:00.000-08:00

It's like a Christmas miracle, only different.

Have you heard of Carnival? Do you have any idea what it's like? Let me 'splain. Ok, so I've experienced three Carnival seasons, but one was spelled Carnaval, so it's different. None of the three have I actively participated in, so maybe my descriptions and views are skewed by my general innocence and/or prudish-ness.

My first season was in Portugal. That's the one with the weird spelling, cuz, you know, it's written in Portuguese. I was serving my LDS mission in northern Portugal. It seemed mostly like a cute parade with Halloween costumes. The end. Maybe I missed the real fun, since I was busy proselyting and stuff. Still, it wasn't anything so crazy it really seemed like it interfered with my life, unlike a friend of mine who served a mission in Brazil and had to spend two weeks inside his apartment in order to avoid all the rampant sinning. Portugal was no biggie.

My second season was last year in Dominica. We were already into the middle of the Carnival season before I realized what exactly was going on. Wonderman and I could not figure out why there was such a constant stream of pounding music night after night (the downfall of living on the main road, close to the city center). I don't remember how we figured it out. I do remember cursing it nightly. I also remember waking up one night in the middle of the night (well, around 3 am) to music louder than I had ever before imagined in my entire life. The pounding bass was so loud I could literally feel it in my bones. It was loud. Wonderman had a test the next day. He was not happy. We got out of bed to see what was going on. We saw a semi truck with the trailer stacked completely full with speakers, driving (read "creeping") down the road in front of our house. There were also flashing lights to make it even harder to sleep through. Following the truck of speakers was a crowd of people dancing (read "stumbling") behind. Maybe their movement was such because of the speed (read: "lack of speed") of the truck. Maybe it was because of the ungodly hour. Maybe it was alcoholic impairment. Maybe it was all of these things. It looked lame. After much grumbling, we returned to bed to toss and turn. Thankfully, that was essentially the end of the season.

This year, I knew it was coming. I was mentally preparing a while before it even began. I was super nervous about dealing with the noise with an infant in the house. During one of the nights of insanely loud music, we put Bean's crib in the closet space that is the only place in the house without windows, hoping to cut down on her noise disturbance. She still woke up multiple times in the night. I was not excited for what I knew was coming (apparently the early morning parade is called j'ouvert (juvé) , meaning: parade that ends at sunrise, which sounds kind of neat and definitely benign, but is really not, unless maybe it is if you're in it but it's not great from the outside). I expected to just bring Bean from the closet to our bed and spend the night nursing, and then probably the next day nursing as we struggled to recover from the night before. I miscalculated. I thought the parade would be tonight/tomorrow morning. Alas, it caught me by surprise last night/this morning. I didn't put the baby in the closet. I had laid Bean down just an hour before after her mid-night feeding when I heard the tell-tale pounding. I closed all the windows and drapes (every little bit helps) in the house and then waited, essentially right at the foot of Bean's crib, knowing she would be waking up crying in just moments. The speaker truck got closer and closer and the music got louder and louder. Literally all the windows and doors in our house were rattling. Bean stirred. She curled up and threw her feet down. The craziness passed, still more than audible for quite some time. SHE SLEPT THROUGH IT. Seriously? The child that wakes up if Wonderman lets his belt buckle rattle at all when he's undressing as we go in to bed (have I told you how fun it is to share a room with an infant that goes to bed five or six hours before we do?) slept through that insanity? Really? How is this possible? I have no idea. But I am grateful. I am also tired, since I spent so much time awake and on the alert, waiting for her to need me. Sigh. She never did.

Here's a video I took of the parade this afternoon. I think it was all students from Ross. Maybe it's just the university's attempt to make students feel like they're participating, without them having to be awake at 3 am. I don't know. It wasn't nearly as loud, so Bean and I went out and watched it. She seemed to like the music and the colors. Most importantly, you can see at the head of the parade the insanely large conglomeration of speakers. The afternoon parade was loud, but still probably four times less loud than it was this morning/last night. This is not a particularly exciting video, but it's 24 seconds of an interesting bit of culture. Sorry that I didn't get out there at 3 am to get the real thing.

And now, as I write this, I can hear some pounding music, but at enough of a distance that is bothers me barely at all. I don't think I have ever been so aware of or so excited for Ash Wednesday. I will say that I went into town on Saturday and got a taste of the celebration in the air and thought for a minute or two that it might be fun to check out what Carnival was like, even if I don't drink. I may have been influenced by the really pretty masks I saw for sale. Maybe. Anyway, Ash Wednesday will be here soon, soon. I may never be so aware of it again in my life. And I'm ok with that.

Conclusion: It came to pass.

ps - It's strange, I didn't grow up in a culture where Carnival (or Mardi Gras, or even Lent for that matter) was a part of life at all. Still, I feel like I have a pretty good general understanding of the history of it. Or I thought I did until this afternoon when my neighbor, Chris (she's Dominican by heritage, but spent most of her adult life in England, still she understands and is part of the culture here - way more than me), was lamenting the continued celebration of Carnival. She said it heralds back to the days of slavery where slave "owners" would allow only one day for slaves to take time off and celebrate. She said the costumes' origin was in how the slaves dressed up like their "masters" and their concubines. I had to agree that maintaining any tradition connected to slavery is lamentable. I was confused, however, since my understanding of Carnival connects it much more to Catholicism than to slavery. She should know though, so I accepted. Until, of course, I checked on Wikipedia (the source of all light and truth). Wiki made no mention of Carnival's connection to slavery. In fact, it seemed to be very much a European tradition that connects to other pagan, pre-Christian rituals. I'm led to doubt Chris. I'm curious where her understanding of it comes from. What do you think I should believe?

Playtime

2011-03-05T18:41:00.000-08:00

Another big deal is toys. Bean is becoming ever more aware of toys. Our neighbor gave us this awesome spinning rattle toy that is anchored with suction. Her baby was not interested. Bean loves it. Before this toy, she would "play" with things by doing her best to find a place where she could grip it and then bring it to her mouth, at which point she would slobber on it until she found a place small enough to chew, then chewing madly until her grip failed (ok, so she still does this with everything else). Perhaps that is all she would do with this contraption if she could get it to her mouth. Probably. Still, she can't, so it at least appears as if she is finally playing for the sake of play. It's a delight.

And here she is, leaning back so I can get a good shot of her sweet new gear:

Conclusion: It's vital to make time in every day to play.

Major Mileston

2011-03-05T18:32:00.000-08:00

No, she still hasn't rolled over! It's making me crazy. She has, however, discovered that she loves the taste of toes.

Heh. Once upon a time, I thought I was flexible. I got nothin' on this kid.

Conclusion: Discovery is progress, and progress is good, even if it's not the progress that was planned.

So Close!

2011-02-21T18:55:00.000-08:00

This was taken Saturday night. I was so sure she'd be rolling over the next day. Alas, still no. She does love to roll up onto her side and just sit there, though. I keep waiting for her to lean forward just enough that she falls onto her tummy in a bit of surprise (is it bad that I've thought multiple times about just giving her a tiny nudge?). We'll see. Until then, I will just enjoy the cute naked pictures for what they are - adorableness personified.

Conclusion: Running (or rolling) faster than we are able does no one any good, but patience while waiting for more running (or rolling) can be tough.

Brrr!

2011-02-21T18:49:00.000-08:00

A week ago Saturday it was cold in the morning. Perhaps it's been cold in the mornings before, but I used to sleep through the cold part and wake up when the sun was shining and cold was far from my mind. Bean has helped me to develop at least half of the "early to bed, early to rise" habit, however. I was sitting on the bed in my next-to-nuthins (which is what I spend most every night and therefore early morning in) and I was cold. I'd put Bean to bed in merely a diaper, so I assumed she was probably a bit chilly as well. Out came the sweatshirts and fleece (I was so glad she still fit in the adorable warm traveling outfit we bought just for the trip down here. It was so cute and one wear just didn't seem like it was enough).

It wasn't until later that I realized that perhaps the more logical step would've been to simply close the windows, instead of bundling up. But you just don't do that in Dominica. Windows are meant to be open, right? Anyway, it was kind of fun to snuggle up.

Conclusion: Sometimes logical solutions aren't as much fun.

Four Months Ago

2011-02-21T18:39:00.000-08:00

And I thought she was gorgeous as a newborn.

And, of course, it's necessary to have the monthly photo next to a stuffed animal, to show her relative size. I haven't done it for the first three months, so I suck a little. But here she is next to Ralph, the rattle cow. You'll see him show up many times in the future, I expect.

Conclusion: Time really does fly when you're having fun.

ps - These photos are actually from Valentine's Day, which was three days before she hit three months. The next few days were a little crazy though, as we started working on naps with more focus and neither of us felt much up to pictures. So these will have to do. Also, we weighed her up on campus and she weighs around 15 lbs (no digital infant scales here, sigh). And according to our tape measure she is nearly 24 inches long. Needless to say, her percentiles are a mystery to me. She's healthy and happy. That is all.

Beach Trip Numero Uno

2011-02-13T17:15:00.000-08:00

Can I just start by saying black sand gets everywhere? Instantly. You think I'm joking. I'm not. I swear, within seconds of getting to the beach, Bean had black sand in literally every crevice and fat fold on her body. Adorable? Maybe a little. Annoying? Maybe a lot. The paste that was created in her elbow pit as the sand mixed with the sunscreen was pretty funny, though. I only wish my fat folds were as cute as hers.

Bean wasn't too sure what to think about the beach. She liked us putting the sunscreen on (guess we need to do more baby massage), but she seemed uncomfortable with the sand idea. Then Wonderman took her into the sea. There was more skepticism, which was followed quickly by some crying. We think the moving water was a little too much to start with. We had never even taken her to the pool. So, we retraced our steps and took her to the pool.

It looks kind of idyllic, eh?

She liked that a little better, but withheld judgment until a few days later, at which point she decided she loved it. I can see a lot of pool trips in her future.

Conclusion: Baby steps really are the best way to begin.

ps - Can I do a ps after the conclusion? I would just like to point out that Wonderman and Bean have the exact same color of skin. Have I told you about the CNA at the hospital when Bean was born who told me that my daughter looked nothing like me? She looked like her dad, but not me. Who tells a woman who has been a mom for all of 24 hours a thing like that? As I see pictures of her with me and we look almost like we're different races and then she has pictures like this with her dad, I have to accept that maybe we don't look exactly alike. Sigh.

The Magical Fruit

2011-02-10T18:28:00.000-08:00

So, Bean is growing faster than fast. I thought I was anxious for her to get big and become more, I don't know, interactive? user friendly? self sufficient? but just tonight I started getting nostalgic for the babyhood that I can already see slipping away as she matures. She can't sit up on her own, but with the help of this fancy chair, you'd never know:

And I have never been great at tummy time. It's funny how something so simple can be so hard to do. Either she's fussy or she just ate or I forget or . . . it just doesn't happen much. The boppy has really helped in that arena, however. She loves it and it's always around. She is getting so strong. She does push off with her legs so much that if I leave her with too much of her torso on the boppy, she pushes herself forward, ie face first into whatever surface the boppy is on. It's pretty hilarious to watch. But she doesn't love it so I try to avoid it. But I still giggle a tiny bit to myself when it does happen.

Conclusion: Carpe Diem, but then let it go. Another good day is on its way.

Little Miss Muffet

2011-02-10T18:16:00.000-08:00

So, I haven't written too many posts about the critters here. There are many things other than mosquitoes (pthhhht on them!) that creep and crawl and sometimes fly in our apartment. Recently, elephantine spiders have been all the rage. In fact, knowing, as I'm sure you do, the precious nature of the sleep of an infant (sleeping like a baby, ha! what a silly phrase), you will appreciate the horrific nature of these beasts when I tell you that not once, but TWICE we chose to sacrifice the sleep of Bean in order to kill one of these spiders. It had to be done. The day after the second kill, I found a group of ants working diligently to carry up the wall and presumably out the window a spider leg that we had missed in our clean-up.

Sure, it is photographically weak, but ITS LEG IS AS BIG AS A DIME! Creepy.

Now, let me go back. I said "we" killed these spiders, but it was really Wonderman. The first two were all him. The third was spotted when Bean and I were home alone and she had just fallen asleep. It was right by the open door that led to her bedroom. It had been a struggle to get her to dreamland. I wasn't about to forfeit that if I could avoid it. That's right, I faced the behemoth and I won - silently. The silent part took great self-control. And this time I got slightly better pictures. This one is for the ick factor:

And this one is just for relative size (Keep in mind that this is the monster curled up in death. In life, with legs radiating to grotesque lengths, he was much larger):

Conclusion: Sometimes a princess in a tower remains alone and has to fight her own battles.

It Simply Isn't Sound

2011-02-02T17:50:00.000-08:00

So, many of you have heard the story of our friend ordering a meatball sandwich at Subway here on the island. It went something like this:
"I'll have a foot-long meatball sub."
"We don't have enough meatballs for that."
"Ok, I'll take a six-inch."
After this conversation, the person behind her in line ordered a meatball sub. They received it.
"I thought you didn't have enough meatballs for a twelve-inch sandwich?"
"We don't. We only have enough for two six inch sandwiches."

That story has come to exemplify the many idiosyncrasies of logic (?) we find here on the island. My recent favorite was going to the pizza shop for Friday Fun Day. A pepperoni pizza cost $43 EC. A cheese pizza cost $41. A half and half pizza cost $47. I asked if they could put pepperoni on just half the pizza, so the other half would be just cheese. Guess how much that would cost? Sigh. $47, of course. We had all pepperoni.

Conclusion: It really does require serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

Paradise?

2011-01-29T17:53:00.000-08:00

Dominica, being in the tropics and all, gets a lot of sun. For someone who is brown-ish and "ethnically vague" like I am, this is no big deal. For someone who is white and pink like Wonderman is, it is a big deal. Bean takes after her father. Sigh. I have come to the conclusion that a person like me (brown and completely unaware of sunscreen) to have a baby like Bean (white, white, white, and a little pink) in a place like Dominica (S-U-N-N-Y) is the perfect storm of bad luck. Thankfully, I did think (by chance really, but I am very grateful) to buy her a sun hat before we came down.

Conclusion: Sometimes protection can be fun.

Eaten Alive

2011-01-29T17:39:00.000-08:00

Um, all my posts may begin to seem a little Bean-centered. Good thing she's so adorable, eh? (Don't answer that.)

So, we live on a tropical island. It sounds like paradise. In many ways it is. Not so much in all ways. One not-so-paradisaical element is the beast known as "mosquito." They always seem to eat the newcomers first. Both Bean and I seem to count as new-comers. After just a couple of days here, her little face looked so sad (and yet she grins), with all the bites on it:

And her little arms and legs were worse. Especially the tender (ok, it's all tender on her) under-arm area, since she always sleeps with her hands above her head as though she is surrendering to a brutal police force. Thankfully, a friend of ours had a mosquito net he was willing to lend us. Now she sleeps like this:

The puffy pink spots have GREATLY decreased. They really didn't seem to bother Bean (although she is just developing enough body awareness to rub her eyes when she's tired, so maybe she doesn't have a way to show that it bothered her), but it definitely makes for a much happier mommy.

Conclusion: Armor of all kinds has value.

In Hot Water

2011-01-29T17:27:00.000-08:00

Bean had a conniption fit during her first bath (I was rebellious and didn't let them bathe her at the hospital. I probably would've waited even longer than I did to bathe her if her daddy hadn't been leaving. He wanted to bathe her, so she got her first bath at two days old). Both Wonderman and I were doing everything we could think of to make it less horrible, as her tiny body turned purple from screaming so hard. Bath time slowly got better as time moved on, but there were still many nights that she screamed, and screamed, and screamed when getting out of the bath. I think it was the combination of being tired and COLD. Cold is not so much an option here in Dominica. And she almost always loves her bath. She ends her baths with a smile:

It's so much nicer this way. I'm not sure what to do if I ever have a baby in the winter time again. I don't think we'll be living on a tropical island for the rest of forever. I suppose I'll just have to enjoy it while I can.

Conclusion: Take joy in simple pleasures

Blessed

2011-01-29T17:19:00.000-08:00

Did I tell you that Bean got a name and a blessing (ok, so she had the name for a while before this, but it became official on the records of the church) on January 2, 2011? It was a sweet day. I got choked up as I heard Wonderman start to speak, then he got choked up as he blessed her. We are quite a pair. Then Bean took over for both of us and cried heartily throughout. Of course she stopped as soon as it was over. We think the bouncing was, in fact, too vigorous with so many hands working together, trying to keep her happy. Alas and nevertheless. It was a good day.

Adventures of arrival

2011-01-12T17:46:00.000-08:00

So, I just barely took my camera out of my backpack, which means that zero pictures have been taken of our trip or settling into home. However, I just thought I'd toss in a couple cents.

We got to Dominica just fine. Bean was screaming every time we boarded the plane (three different flights), but once we got settled and she got to nurse she was quiet and asleep for essentially all the flying time. Hooray! That is one big worry down. She seems to like it here. She likes the warmth and the breezes. She is taking some time to get used to her new crib. Still, I think all in all the transition is going remarkably well, even if there are times when I wonder if I'm going to survive because she is screaming for no apparent reason. I think those times are decreasing. I hope.

I am fully enjoying being back on the island. I'm glad we came in January so I could enjoy some of the "cool" weather before it gets all crazy again. The first day we were here, we walked to campus and to a store and I realized that the "walks" I went on in Utah were ridiculously easy and didn't count as exercise at all. Sigh. And I've found that carrying a baby makes it hard to carry anything else. We'll see if at the end of 8 months I regret my decision to wear Bean instead of pushing her around in a stroller. However it goes, it is good to be home and delightful to be a family that's together more than just for a nightly Skype session.

Wonderman is back to the grindstone and doing well. It amazes me how much he puts into this. I've come to the conclusion that not only do I never want to go to med school, especially since it would be mostly just to prove I could do it, not because I want to be a doctor, but a regular job is much easier than med school or motherhood. That may seem obvious to you, but it is still a bit of a revelation for me. I already have found myself thinking about how easy my life used to be when I just had to go to work. Ah. If only I had appreciated it then. :)

And that's it. The adventure continues. I'll try to take some pictures and post them later. Maybe soon-ish. Maybe not.

Until then.

Privacy, revisited

2010-12-12T23:14:00.000-08:00

So, you may remember long ago when I first addressed the issue of privacy. The same issues still stand. That is why I continue to refer to the infant as Bean, instead of some more reasonable name. I must also confess, although this is more of a blaming than a confession, that it is part of why I took such a long hiatus from posting on this blog. I was doing so well, catching up on cataloging our adventures, when I reached the visit of my parental units, namely my mom and her husband, my step-dad. I always just call him by his first name, but with the issues of privacy set up as they are, that just couldn't be done. I don't really like the term "step-dad." It always sounds kind of cold and I have come to really love him. Plus, it takes a long time to write, as does "my mom's husband." While I pondered what to do, I lost steam and just never bothered coming back, until now. And now I live with my mom and this man who is as yet un-named. That is, until Wonderman comes and rescues me and takes me back to Dominica. Not that I'm miserable, I just really miss him. A lot. Anyway, just so you know the code, I've decided to call him by a different Christian name. I'm good at making names up, pulling them out of thin air. So we'll call him Bill any time he is referenced here. As in, "I am currently staying with my mom and Bill." See, it works. That's all. Just wanted to reiterate the privacy issue and then explain myself. The end.

Forever? I want it NOW

2010-12-12T23:04:00.000-08:00

So, our little family has not been together for a while. Wonderman was here when Bean was born, but then had to leave us to return to school. He flew out just three days after Bean arrived. This is our first family portrait:

(Yes. I took a tiny newborn to the airport, a cesspool of germs and disease. It was our last chance to spend any time, quality or not, with her daddy, whom we both adore. Don't judge me. She is fine.)

This is what she looks like now:

She has grown and changed so much already. Her daddy has been gone for TOO LONG. I can't wait for him to see her, and vice versa. Skype, while a miracle sent from heaven, can only do so much. However, he will be home in one week and I am so excited I am having a hard time breathing. I try not to think too much about it, since constant breathlessness could make that week seem really long, but still. It's tough. Eeeeeee (this sound is accompanied by my biggest smile - which you know shows every tooth I've ever dreamed of having - and some general bouncing/dancing)!

Behind

2010-12-01T23:06:00.000-08:00

I've never been a stellar blogger, that's now a given, but much has changed since that last post. I'm not nearly so hot, nor so roundy. A lot took place in between now and then. Not only am I surrounded by snow and ice (I've been in Utah since September), but . . . . .

I went and had myself a baby. Bean is here, and she's a delight. I'd promise that there will be more frequent posts in the future, but you and I both know that I hate to lie. We'll play it by ear, eh?

And I thought I was hot before. . . . .

2010-06-15T13:22:00.000-07:00

Somehow carrying around my own private space heater makes things even warmer. Some days I'm not sure I'll make it, but so far so good.

Number One Beach

2010-05-30T19:23:00.000-07:00

In the not-too-distant past, I had my first visit to Number One Beach. Let's just say, it earns it's title.

It is this great expanse of white sand, which really you don't see that often in Dominica. Our beaches are usually small, rocky expanses of black sand. Off to one side, there is a calm little river, feeding into the ocean, so there is placid fresh water to play in if the waves of the Atlantic get a little too rough. This makes it perfect for little people, but since I didn't bring one with me, I just enjoyed it for myself.

Since most of my views of big water are Caribbean in nature, I really enjoyed getting a glimpse, and a taste, of the Atlantic. The waves are a little more boisterous, but gorgeous and so fun to play in.

The great mountains in the background also added to the overall effect:

Since I went with a bunch of other people's children I got the joy of seeing tiny footprints in the sand and thinking they were absolutely adorable.

For some reason, I also got to enjoy my own legs sparkling as though I were a Disney sea princess or something.

The swirling water set off my pedicure quite nicely, I thought.

I did get one of my worst island sunburns yet at this beach, but I mostly didn't mind.

It was a beautiful day.

The only negative of the entire trip was when one of my friends (who we all knew was pregnant) puked on the drive home (traveling here can be a bit nauseating in general, more so if you have any pre-existing condition that lends itself to queasiness). At that point, I had some strong suspicions of my own condition, but hadn't taken any tests. I knew it would be in the next couple of days, though. As we all commiserated and did what we could to comfort our friend, another girl said, "Well, that's great birth control for while we're on the island." I just sighed a little and wondered what to hope for.

Conclusion: Some things are worth the risk.

Syndicate Nature Trail

2010-05-30T17:04:00.000-07:00

Ok, so this is the same trip, same day, and the same deal applies. If the belated nature of the post offends you - STOP READING RIGHT NOW!!!! (That just reminded me of one of my favorite books growing up - "The Monster at the End of this Book." Did you ever read it? It's sooooo good. Partly because it features Grover, who is always a favorite. Partly because it's just plain good. There was much childish giggling that accompanied every reading of it. You should find a copy and read it. The end of my ginorm parenthetical insert - a personal specialty).

After seeing the super cool waterfall that we couldn't get close to because it apparently is a direct water source (lame, right? I just want to go swimming. Who cares about clean water?), we went to the Syndicate Nature Trail that has some informational displays and stuff at the trail head. This one was definitely my favorite:

We also got to see some super tall trees with awesome Tarzan vines hanging down from them:

And, of course, Wonderman had to test the viability of said vines:

I was not quite so bold:

Still, we both enjoyed seeing all kinds of nature-y things on said nature trail:

It was a super fun and informative day. All the adventuring wore Wonderman right out.

Conclusion: Exploring nature feeds the soul.

Syndicate Falls

2010-05-30T16:21:00.000-07:00

Um, can we still be friends if I post now (which is, like, seventy million years after the fact) about stuff that happened during Christmas Break? If your answer is "No," please stop reading and pretend this never happened. I'm sort of trying to catch up a little and face my own apparent aversion to writing (who would've ever thought this possible?).

So, Wonderman and I went on a school-sponsored trip to Syndicate Falls. It was really cool. He helped small children cross rivers:

We saw some awesome jungle and a big waterfall:

I also made a new friend. I told Wonderman that night that she was probably going to be my new best friend. The black fingernail polish, love of mountains, and dreams of Alaska seemed to guarantee it.

We also got to hike through a valley that wasn't just jungle. There were more shades of green in one place than I think I even knew existed:

Plus, we ended the hike with one of our guides cutting some fresh sugar cane for us. Can you tell what a sweet tooth Wonderman has? He looks thrilled with it, doesn't he? It was kind of strange, but definitely sweet. It was like chewing straw that had been soaked in sugar water. Yummy, right?

Conclusion: Wonderful and beautiful things are even more wonderful and beautiful when I'm with wonderful and beautiful people.

Discreet

2010-05-04T18:40:00.000-07:00

Without further ado, or any inappropriate yet blurry photos of my baby's junk, the latest news on the home front is this: Baby Bean is a girl! Now the adventures in naming begin.

Rule #10

2010-04-27T15:47:00.000-07:00

Today I got an email from BabyCenter.com. It was about exercise during pregnancy. I felt a lot better when I read rule #10: Don't get overheated. This was my favorite line: "On hot and/or humid days, skip your workout." Sweet. I'm covered. Exercise is for chumps anyway, right?

Adventure of The Year Award goes to . . . .

2010-04-06T06:18:00.000-07:00

Wonderman and I are starting down a whole new road. Things will really change when Baby Bean arrives sometime in mid-October.

And, as I've been trying to be as secretive as possible, it has taken my normal (inexplicable) reluctance to blog to a whole new level. You know, if you can't say anything about being pregnant, don't say anything at all. That's what Mom always said, right? I'll see if I can rectify that situation.

It's Official!

2010-03-16T19:51:00.000-07:00

Today as I was coming home in a hurry, I jumped on a transport. As I got off in front of my house, came around to the side, set my water bottle down at my feet, swished my backpack to my front so I could get my wallet out, fished around until I found said wallet, and then finally pulled out the three coins I needed, the driver said to me:

"Ah, you have become Dominicanized." I wrinkled my brow and said,

"What do you mean?" He smiled and replied,

"You know what I mean." In confusion I handed him the coins and began to turn away.

"If you had been at home, you would have already had the money ready." I laughed and laughed, because it's true. Guess I really am starting to fit in here.

Toucari and Douglas Bays

2010-02-01T06:18:00.000-08:00

I went snorkeling the other day.

That's a short statement, which may lead you to believe that it was a simple endeavor. It was not. You may or may not know that, despite my usual attitude of bravado and pomposity, I am a bit of a Nervous Nelly, especially when it comes to putting my face in water (maybe it's connected to all those times I almost drowned). I signed up to go on a trip with people I didn't know, planning to try something I was pretty scared to do. That is what I am going to blame my grumpiness that morning on (now see, this preposition at the end of the sentence feels really awkward, but I feel incapable of finding any other way to say it).

When we got to Toucari Bay, it was really pretty (is it bad that I already feel like I'm running out of ways to describe the exquisite views here? I took some pictures, because I don't know the thousand words to convey my awe.).

Then I apprehensively put on my snorkel mask and practiced breathing through a tube. Easy, breezy. Then I put my face in the water to test the seal of my mask. Let's be honest, I didn't breathe, but didn't think about it. However, I could see all kinds of incredible things. The water was clear enough that I had had some serious doubts about the benefit of putting my face six inches under water so I could see things better. I could see JUST FINE from up above. Except that I couldn't. It was wildly better underneath. So I dove forward and started swimming.

What happened next happened every time I started swimming in the water with my eyes open. I started to hyperventilate a little because my brain told me I was going to drown. With the awesome amplification that water provides, I could hear my labored breathing quite clearly and was glad I was on my own so I didn't have to be doubly mortified at my own ridiculousness. I was able to calm my breathing down to a slow, steady rhythm just by mentally telling myself that it needed to happen. Turns out I learned some important skills from dealing with my claustrophobia and all those MRIs and radiation. Who would've ever thought it would help me snorkel? Well, help me it did.

My new friend, Gabe (also new to snorkeling), put it succinctly: "Wow. These are fish I've only ever seen before in aquariums!" That was exactly it. Pretty incredible. I'm going to have to go again. And again. And then probably again. And someday buy an underwater camera so I can take pictures of all the cool stuff Dominica has to offer. Looking under the sea offers twice the fun.

Douglas Bay was also incredibly beautiful and similarly fun to snorkel in.

These are the mountains/hills whose other side I look at every day. It's all about perspective.

New friends from my snorkeling adventure.

Gratuitous shot of the butterfly/moth who seemed to think my flip-flop was a flower.

I'm going to need to sail around this island before I leave. Doesn't this look fun?

Conclusion: Sometimes it's worth a little grumpiness if that is what it takes to get me to try new things.

Roseau with Wonderman

2010-01-25T15:27:00.000-08:00

During the break, Wonderman and I took a little trip to Roseau. It was super fun just wandering around the capital, looking at stuff. We found a street with my name, so of course we had to take a picture:

But we couldn't see the sign in the picture, so it turned out to simply be a gratuitous picture of me (always a nice addition, right?). Then we took one of the sign, just to prove the point.

What? That's not my name, you say? Oh yeah? Ask my mom. Then we'll see who's right.

We also went to the Dominica museum,

which did have one of the funniest signs I've ever seen (so much for objectivity):

Funny that Columbus Day isn't a national holiday here.

When we went to IGA, I fully enjoyed Wonderman's bewilderment and amazement at all the amazing things for sale there. I also realized that for some reason, the Captain Crunch box is really funny in French:

It's funny to say in French too. Try it, it will make you giggle.

We ended the day watching a cruise ship literally sail off into the sunset.

Conclusion: Lovely days are even lovelier when spent with Wonderman.

Inheritance

2010-01-04T18:54:00.000-08:00

This is a combination of silly looks (please disregard the hair; it can't be helped).

The camera at my chest is genius I got from my father. As I was hiking and trying to decide if it was worth the risk to keep my camera in my hand because there was so much amazing stuff to picture, but I was sliding around in the mud and crossing rivers with super slidey rocks, I started telling Wonderman about my dad. Dad has a camera case connected to his climbing harness so that he can take pictures with one hand without letting go of the rope. I told Wonderman that was what I needed. Then I realized I could create a make-shift version. It will hopefully be less silly when I get my itsy-bitsy camera that will make for easier access. Still, I have to give props to Pops. It made the whole thing so much smoother and safer.

Conclusion: Learning from someone else's experience can be invaluable. Thanks, Dad.

Syndicate Falls

2010-01-04T18:45:00.000-08:00

Ross has free trips to cool places in the weeks before a new semester. We've gotten to be a part of a few good ones (that's how we got to Red Rock). It definitely was a mass hike to Syndicate Falls, which is never my favorite, but it turns out, it was worth it.

Here is Wonderman helping a small child cross a river:

Here is how we do vacay photos (we actually had a number of others taken by very helpful and nice people, but they're all out of focus, or we have lame expressions, or the reflectors on my backpack caught the flash and totally over-took the picture, or something). Still, it's us and Syndicate Falls:

This is a tree next to the side of the falls that is growing horizontally from the side of the cliff. It was pretty crazy.

This is a family here that we really like:

This is my new friend, K. She wears black nail polish, loves mountains, and wants to live in Alaska when she grows up (ok, technically she is a grown-up, much more so than me since she has two kids, which automatically qualifies her as a grown-up, but still. Alaska).

These are the plants along the trail that totally look like something plastic I would buy at Michael's, were there a Michael's nearby and had I a reason to buy green plants. The point is, they were so perfect, they didn't seem real.

This is my attempt at capturing the sweeping vistas from the hike. It's a little bit hard to convey, since it's all green, but still it was incredible.

We ended the hike with fresh sugar cane. It was strange, but sweet. I think that I had enough to be good forever. No need to suck on fibrous sweetness again.

It was a good hike.

Sea-Side Cottage

2010-01-04T17:56:00.000-08:00

Now we live here:

In front of our house is this:

We have a lot of this going around the outside of our house:

Painted on the front of the house are these:

At the end of the driveway is this:

It's a lovely change and totally worth the extra walking (no hills!) to get to campus. I assure you, I will show you inside pictures at some point when there are not random things strewn about the apartment. It may be a while.

There Was a Little House in the Middle of the Woods

2010-01-04T16:22:00.000-08:00

This is where we used to live:

It looks kinda cool all surrounded by trees and stuff, right? However, perhaps you can tell by the angle of the shot that it was up a bit of a hill. I never loved that. It also wasn't big. There weren't a lot of chairs. There were only windows on one side and thus very little breeze. There were many great things about the place (like security, quiet, great landlords, proximity to the annex, etc.), but this is obviously not the place for mentioning them, as I am telling you why we used to live there. Soon, I'll tell you where we live now. It's pretty cool.

More Red Rock Madness

2010-01-01T13:46:00.000-08:00

The Caribbean Pizza was delicious, as promised.

One of our friends kids asked Wonderman the other day why he was so white. It's a valid question.

He looks happy, right?

The views were breathtaking, as were the overly rambunctious waves.

Wonderman was sure tuckered, but it was a good day all around.

Where Southern Utah Meets the Atlantic Ocean

2010-01-01T13:04:00.000-08:00

Red Rock, Dominica

I only wish I had a thousand pictures, because words cannot describe its beauty.

Late Bloomer

2009-12-27T20:05:00.001-08:00

I may have mentioned before that here in Dominica I get bitten by a lot of mosquitoes.

"Would you say I have a plethora of mosquito bites?"
"Yes, Jefe, I would say you have a plethora of mosquito bites."

Smiles all around.

Except that no one smiles, because mosquito bites suck.

I often complain (in a very sweet and endearing manner, of course) that it isn't fair that Wonderman never gets bitten. Every once in a while he shows me a bite that itches for a few hours and tries to say that I'm not alone. I never buy it. My suffering is always worse. It's a given. Or so I thought. On Christmas Eve, we went to the beach for a bonfire with friends. It was delightful. Especially since as an added bonus, the waves were about 75 times bigger than normal, so it was excitingly violent as the sea crashed on the shore. I only wish I had pictures. The only downside to the trip to the beach was the horrible little bugs that looked suprisingly like mosquitoes, but seemed immune to the bug repellant I had, with great foresight, applied to my feet and legs. On coming home, I began to pity myself, as I had lumpy red itchiness all over my little (relatively speaking) feet. I even continued the pitying of me for a couple days. Somehow it either took a while to develop, or I am such a lame wife that somehow I didn't notice this on my lover's legs:
I'd like to think that they took a few days to develop, because it makes me look less lame. Either way, I've tried to curb my complaints. Poor Wonderman. The itching even woke him up in the night.

Conclusion: Bonfires on the beach are awesome, but full coverage may be necessary to combat the evils that accompany dusk.

Fry Twice, Add Bacon

2009-12-27T19:40:00.001-08:00

Sounds healthily delicious, right? Tonight we made Mofongo. It's a dish we tried in Puerto Rico and both loved, so it seemed the natural choice when Owen gave us a lot (and I mean a lot) of plantains.

It was a little labor intensive and didn't turn out perfect, but we will definitely try again (please note our awesome use of the LED lantern; our fluorescent light is flickering to the point that I'm sure it will cause an epileptic seizure soon, and there's no chance of buying one until tomorrow, although we're moving in just a couple days [have I told you that? I'm so excited], and I'm not sure it's worth the expense).

To do better next time: 1 - yellow plantains are too sweet, use green; 2 - raw garlic in large quantities is too strong, use less and cook it first somehow; 3 - bacon is only necessary if the mofongo is going to be the main dish, when eaten with chicken it's a little too much; 4 - it's worth using 27 paper towels per plantain slice, if that's what it takes to drain the oil off them after frying.
Conclusion: Trying new things is always an adventure, but there is much to be said for experience, which only comes from trying again. And again. And again (ah, that New's Year's resolution list looks like it's going to have to include exercise).

Counting Blessings

2009-12-26T17:27:00.000-08:00

It's not quite the same, but today I was really grateful for this eggnog flavored drink. It filled a need and made me feel a little closer to Christmas. Next year, I'm going ALL OUT on the eggnog. All out, I tell you.

He DID Listen

2009-12-26T17:23:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas to me!

I swear, underneath that stoney exterior is a man who really wanted a blender. Swear!

Wonderman Just Gets Better With Age

2009-12-26T17:14:00.000-08:00

Having a birthday right before Christmas comes with its challenges, but we try to make Wonderman's day special. This year it was even more low-key than normal, though. Can you see how excited he is?

The first three are evidence of Wonderman being silly, but I think I may have caught a genuine smile in the fourth photo (a Christmas miracle in and of itself).

Happy Birthday to the most wonderful man I have ever met.

Conclusion: He's definitely the best. I'm pretty lucky.

'Tis the Season

2009-12-18T07:30:00.000-08:00

Let's get this straight before we even begin: I am not a Scrooge. I love Christmas like you can't believe. I spent years counting down the days until Christmas, starting on December 26 (Ok, so part of that was probably because it became a cool trademark, like a party trick: my friends would always ask me how many days until Christmas and, no matter what day of the year it was, I KNEW. Still, it started because of the love.). It has always been a magical time of which I adored being a part (Did you catch the awkward and non-colloquial sentence construction? That's what I get for proof-reading my posts and for knowing that ending a sentence with a preposition is wrong. Ugh, so annoying. Ignorance really is bliss.).

However, the past couple of years have been a teensy bit less . . . magical. There are a number of factors that contribute, the most significant one being heat. Neither Arizona nor Dominica lends itself much to the fabled ideal of the white Christmas that I am accustomed to. Maybe it's also partially because they are Christmases with only Wonderman, whom I adore, but I am more used to parental units and siblings and shared understanding of tradition. It may also be connected to the lack of space in our living arrangements (ok, and this year it's also the lack of availability), which has lead to the significant absence of a Christmas tree in our home. Or maybe it's the gifts that we are not buying, for each other or anyone else (again with the money and available gift supply being minimal [not that there are none, just that they are few - do you think Wonderman realizes the significance of the huge hint I gave him yesterday as I showed him a hand bag that I would REALLY like to have and told him it would be a good present? If not, I sure hope it will still be there in a week]).

All explanations aside, I must say - I know Christmas is coming and I am excited, but it also sort of feels like just another day. Meh. I definitely wasn't feeling the furor of the holiday spirit. Until last night.

I work with a few other women in our church teaching an English class to mostly Haitian immigrants. It's been a good experience and I've learned stuff and usually only grumble a little bit when I have to leave Wonderman at home alone while I go off galavanting about and teaching English. Last night we had a Christmas party with pizza and cookies, definitely festive fare. Everyone was sitting around, munching quietly, and I felt a distinct lack of celebration. Then we decided to sing some Christmas carols. We got out the hymn books and all sang in English "Joy to the World" and "Silent Night." I tell you what, I have never heard "Silent Night" sung quite so boisterously in perhaps all my life, but the Christmas spirit that it brought swelled up around me so that I couldn't help but get a little vehclemt. I loved it. Now it feels like Christmas, despite all the setbacks.

Conclusion: All those heartwarming stories about people from different nations and cultures finding commonground at Christmas time, specifically while singing "Silent Night," must be true.

Exotic Fruits

2009-12-14T09:36:00.000-08:00

This is what I had the other day for breakfast:

It was delicious. And it made me feel like I was living on a Caribbean island. I guess that counts as being very grounding, right, since I do, in fact live on a Caribbean island? The coolest part is, I gathered the starfruit and mango myself. The coconut was an entirely different challenge which led me to the conclusion that my life will simply be easier if I accept my own weaknesses and pay a man with a machete to help me access fresh coconut.

Back to the starfruit (Um how cool is it that there is a fruit that naturally grows in the shape of a star? I don't know that I would've ever believed it if I hadn't seen it and eaten it repeatedly. Not sure why the eating increases the believing, it just does.). I had tried it once before and found it tart to the point of being inedible. I had similar negative experiences with a few other of the native fruits here. I felt so sad, thinking that I was here in this incredible place, with no desire to take advantage of the deliciousness. Then Sharleen showed me where the starfruit tree was on campus and how to judge its ripeness. And then she showed me where the mango tree was on campus and how the ripe ones just drop off the tree and you can find them on the ground. I love mango season.

Conclusion: This place is beautiful. I think I could live here.

Visitor

2009-11-23T18:06:00.000-08:00

Katie stayed at our house for three days. That's right, Katydid (Heh. I bet you miss my stellar sense of humor, right?). I finally got a good picture of her. Isn't she cute?

A Lovely Day to Live in Dominica

2009-11-23T17:46:00.001-08:00

Sigh. Isn't it lovely? I hope you can feel (imagine?) the gentle Caribbean breeze riffling through your hair. It's delightful.

Old Stuff

2009-11-23T14:24:00.000-08:00

One thing I've come to realize from reading everyone else's blogs is this: all of us in Dominica write the same things and take the same pictures. While I want to show everyone back home how amazingly different this all is, really these are just my versions of the same ole, same ole. Oh well, let's get to it.

Wonderman and I went to visit Fort Shirley, an old fort built by the British in the 1700s while they were in charge of occupying the island. Parts of the garrison (yes, a word that I would never use on my own, but I got it from my reading about the fort and it sounds cool, yet I couldn't define for you exactly what a "garrison" is) were restored and/or reconstructed. That was cool. Most of it was broken down by the jungle (ok, really just the lush woodlands; I clearly recognize now that it's not the jungle). That was much cooler. We hiked around a bit and climbed in and around stuff. We tried to figure out what things were. I wondered what it must have been like to be stationed there. The one thing that I found most interesting, I didn't take a picture of. It was the timeline. There was one entry marking when the island was first inhabited, which was about 3000 BC or something. Then there was one, maybe two, connected to a slave soldier (I know, slave soldiers? How does that work? It doesn't make sense to me, either. Guess it didn't to them, thus the uprising) uprising.

(See? Not jungle. Merely a nicely wooded path. Like upstate New York. Kind of. With crabs and lizards everywhere.)

The rest was pretty much just like this: "The French took over, then the British took over, then the French took over, then the British took over, then the French took over, then the British took over, then the British left." All true, I suppose, but it just seems like there is so much story that gets left out. I feel like I have so little understanding of the true history of this island. History is written by the conquerors though, right? Too bad.

This is some broken down stuff with restored stuff in the background. Artistic shot, right?

These are some cool cannons, aka "The Big Guns" for, you know, when you need to get out "The Big Guns." I think I read on someone else's blog that they were never fired, though. Apparently they have the capacity to fire over a mile and a half, so they could really protect the entire bay, and thus (in theory) the entire island. That's cool.

Um, Cactus? Never once imagined I'd see that in Dominica.

Wonderman checking out some ruins:

And Wonderman checking out the crazy vine-trees that helped cause the ruin (apparently Tarzan was based at least in the realm of possibility. These things are like serious rope).

And then here's me, sitting amongst the ruin, showing off my new haircut (I did it myself, just the day before. I was pretty impressed with myself and I'm telling you because I think you should be impressed with me, too).

It was a good Saturday trip. We both enjoyed it and Wonderman only got a little bit sunburned.

Do you see his untrained "I'm looking at the screen instead of the camera" look? Sigh. So much to teach him.

And then . . . and then . . . and then . . .

2009-11-19T18:38:00.000-08:00

Also planned for part of the Coal Pot trip was a visit to nearby Dubique Falls. Heather, who planned the trip, had never been, but had read about it in a guide book. It was described as a short hike to see some waterfalls with pools we could swim in. After acknowledging that all of those things are, in fact, true, I must say that the trip was absolutely nothing like I imagined it.

When I think short hike, I think easy. I believe this was a common thought in the group of ten women. Apparently short is not defined by Webster as easy. Alas.

It started with a drive up a small and windy road, as do most things here since all the roads are small and windy (by this I mean that it wound around a lot, not that there was a lot of moving air. Is it spelled the same? Wonderman is dutifully studying, and I don't want to interrupt him to ask, especially since he'd probably laugh at me. Hmm, it just looks strange, doesn't it?), but this one was smaller than most. Our driver stopped and asked a few people for directions. The consensus seemed to be "just follow this road all the way up." That didn't take long. Then our driver got out and talked to some men that were there. Apparently one of them volunteered to take us to the falls, as he grabbed his machete and told us to follow him. The machete quickly proved necessary. Still, as we hiked, it crossed my mind more than once that perhaps hiking on unstable ground with a machete in one hand might not be the wisest choice, but no men were injured in the making of this hike. Phew.

Before continuing, I must say this: when I first got here, I read somewhere that we lived in the woodlands of Dominica, not the jungle. I laughed. It looked like the jungle to me. Now that I have seen the jungle, I see the vast difference. I really do live in the woodlands. It's all relative, I suppose.

I was toward the back of the train, so I didn't see how things went up front. I'm pretty sure there was no trail before Machete-man created one for us. There was dense foliage on all sides (our driver told me to be careful not to touch any leaves because then fire ants would get on me and bite me. I looked at him incredulously and walked on, touching every leaf because it was impossible not to. I only got two ant bites. Not bad). There were a lot of river crossings (small river - no big deal, mossy rocks - kind of a big deal). There were a lot of really steep spots where we were just climbing up mud, clinging to vines and bamboo stalks to pull ourselves up. Periodically there were deep holes we just had to point out to each other and carefully step around. There were steep and muddy inclines going under ginormous logs where I had to squat and contort myself into the strangest positions to get low enough to squiggle me and my little backpack under the log while at the same time push myself up the hill. The whole time going up I just kept thinking to myself, "Self, really? How are we all going to get down this? You are relatively experienced in the art of the hike and you are concerned. What about the girls who came in flip-flops? Or the girl who at the beginning of the hike said 'I'm not much of a hiker.' How is this going to go?" I didn't have a great answer, but nevertheless we kept pushing onward and upward. We were well rewarded by a gorgeous waterfall.

Machete-man told us there were actually three falls if we wanted to keep climbing. We laughed. We stayed put. Machete-man squatted down and lit a doobie, smoking calmly while we played in the water and ate our lunch amidst the uber-strong sweet smell of marijuana (this is definitely a different world). In addition to Machete-Man, there was a young-ish man who also helped guide us up (He was just wearing Crocs clogs, and he was fine. How can that be?). Instead of smoking, he slid down part of the waterfall into the pool below. I thought about trying it and showing the squealing girls that it really wasn't that big of a deal, because it did look fun. Then I remembered the last time I went down a waterslide and the broken hand that went with it. I decided to just eat my sandwich in peace avoiding crooked fingers as much as possible. Heather took care of the showboating though, and she went down for all of us. Here is the video I made of the guy on the waterslide (I do a little bit think that I should have done it and not been a sissy, but I guess that's just what I am. Alas):

The hike out was so much easier than I expected. I can say this because I had good shoes. I tried to help Angie all I could, but I think her hike down in wimpy Crocs sandals that BROKE was pretty miserable. She held up very well, and still smiled for me at the end of the hike. It was an incredible day, one that I'll not soon forget nor repeat.

The Coal Pot Factory

2009-11-19T18:09:00.000-08:00

Unlike it's name would indicate, this is NOT where coal pots are made. In fact, in my visit there, I saw nothing that was made anywhere near a coal pot. There was not a coal pot in sight, just a bunch of fancy soaps and oils. I guess it's a sort of a shout-out to the historical use of coal pots, since that was how things were done here, back in the day. They're keepin' it real and stuff. Meh. Either way, I loved this place.

I generally enjoy Dominica and am happy here. I think I am more content with where we live than Wonderman is, sometimes. I like Dominica SOOOO MUCH more than Arizona. Still, sometimes it's easy to feel oppressed by all that is unfamiliar and strange (and there is plenty of that), which is what made this visit so amazing.

As I walked across the lawn to enter the Coal Pot Factory, a scent so familiar and so comforting and so delicious wafted out toward me. It smelled like Dave's Health and Food. Now, maybe you don't know this store, and if you're not my mom you probably won't, but it is a store that I have spent some quality time in. Really, it smelled like all hippie stores that sell you all kinds of natural stuff at high prices. It was delicious. And they sold me a lot of natural stuff (soaps and magical oils, all from things native to Dominica, which made it even cooler) at high (not super high, really only medium) prices. Sigh (of pure content). It was good to feel completely at home, if only for a short while.

No Regrets

2009-11-16T17:38:00.000-08:00

So, there are many adventures of which to tell. Tonight perhaps I won't go into detail on the adventures, but I will say this: I love my new shoes. When I was in the states, spending monies upon monies on all the things I knew, believed, or hoped would be useful upon my return to Dominica, I purchased these shoes:

I couldn't decide if the purchase was really necessary (and with our budget, I try to stick to the really necessary [mostly]). I mean, I have two pairs of Chacos, which I love dearly, as mentioned briefly here. Was I longing to have these shoes, simply so I could look like all the other girls (even though mine are the much cheaper version, a.k.a. the Payless knock-off)? Perhaps. Was that so wrong? Perhaps not. Still, I decided that the toe protection would come in handy, and at the point which they came in handy I wouldn't be thinking about the money any longer.

I WAS RIGHT!!!!! Oh my goodness, I was right. Today I am grateful for my shoes. And my heart goes out to anyone who is forced to hike through a jungle, up muddy mountains, through raging rivers, and across mossy rocks in anything less (I'm so sorry).

Time Warp

2009-11-01T16:21:00.000-08:00

Last night Wonderman and I were discussing Daylight Savings Time. Specifically, I was asking him if Dominica participated. We came to the basic conclusion that they probably don't, since it is a sort of silly and very American concept. However, we decided to verify by asking the waitress at the tiny little Chinese restaurant where we were eating dinner (To clarify - we don't eat out that much, really, last night was simply a necessity because we bought a new tank of gas and somehow seem incapable of getting propane to come out of it so that I can cook dinner. Also, when I say tiny, I mean really tiny. There was one table with six chairs. That's it. But it was pretty tasty.) if they had Daylight Savings Time here. She wrinkled her brow and asked "What?" I, being clever as always, thought I would clarify by asking if we needed to change our clocks that night. "Why would you do that?" Wonderman and I decided that we had our answer. Silly Daylight Savings Time, anyway.

Fireflies

2009-10-31T19:11:00.000-07:00

Tonight the sunset was more beautiful than any I've seen in Dominica. Then, to top it all off, there were fireflies just to the side of the annex as Wonderman and I were leaving for dinner. I had some frustrations today, but things like that can always make up for it. It was beautiful.

Mile Marker

2009-10-29T17:03:00.000-07:00

As long as I'm looking back. . . . we had a one-year anniversary a few months ago. It's strange looking back at how much has changed in just that one year. It's been quite an adventure, but that's what we signed up for, I guess. Anyway, here is Day One:

And Day Three Hundred Sixty Five:

Here's to a bazillion more!

The difference between boys and girls

2009-10-29T16:55:00.000-07:00

Just like my trip of the past month, this summer we visited many families of nieces and nephews. The nieces just play differently than the nephews, but they all adore Uncle Wonderman.

I may be prejudiced, but I can see why they think he's great. Can't you?

In absentia

2009-10-29T16:39:00.000-07:00

Well, on my trip from Dominica back to the states, I left my camera on the bed. So, my picture collection from the trip is scant, to say the least. However, I do have all kinds of pictures from family visits this summer that I never posted. Since I missed Wonderman like crazy, I'd like to share a series of photos I quite like. It's from a game called "Beat up Uncle Wonderman."

Let's be honest, it was a fun game to watch, but it sure made me glad that I'm not built like a jungle gym. The nieces and nephews sure seemed to enjoy it, though. Nothing quite like that happened on this trip when I was there by myself. Poor things. I enjoyed the family time anyway, though.

Climate Change

2009-10-27T17:50:00.000-07:00

I recently left Dominica for a little bit to attend my grandmother's funeral. I knew when I was packing that I might have some trouble because I didn't have any socks. However, I never knew it would go quite to this extent. Let's zoom in a little:

Yup. That's snow, folks. There's not too much around these parts of the Caribbean. Rocky Mountain girl that I am, it still threw me into quite a shock and I shivered more than most. It was beautiful.

Focus on Science

2009-09-19T16:50:00.000-07:00

Last Friday was the White Coat Ceremony for Wonderman's class at Ross University Medical School. It was like a sort of graduation, but at the beginning of the process.

Waiting for the ceremony to begin.

There were lots of official people and speakers and stuff, then the whole class had the chance to have a professor, all of whom are doctors themselves, help them on with a white coat. I went because it seemed the thing to do, but I didn't think too much about it. I snuck in and sat at the very back with some other spouses (a term that is used SO MUCH here and I find it strange, even though I am, technically a spouse. I've just never felt so defined by a simple relationship; however, that is all I am here. Sigh.) even though Wonderman was told there wouldn't be room. I just went in to see and simply stayed. I was so glad I did.

Like a graduation, there was a keynote speaker who said nice things, but was still long and boring. A necessary evil, I suppose. The great part was the change that occurred in me as I listened and thought about what all this symbolized. Wonderman is going to be a doctor. The whole time I've known him, there has been great focus on getting him to medical school. Not an issue anymore, he's here. Now I need to move my focus ahead a few years and visualize him as a doctor. When they put him in his official lab coat I could actually see it. It was a good moment for me.

I was just like a proud parent, down there crowding in where I shouldn't have been, taking pictures and getting a little veclemt (sp? talk amongst yourselves? anyone?). Sigh. I never wanted to be a doctor's wife, but now I'm all proud and so excited for him to be living the dream. Way to be, Wonderman.
PS - The pink umbrella is mine. He's being a gentleman, not a pansy.

Indian River

2009-09-10T18:26:00.001-07:00

Before Wonderman started school, we went on one of the school-sponsored tours up the Indian River. Not only was it cool because part of Pirates of the Caribbean was filmed there (as I got told approximately 75 billion times) - very exciting, as are all things involving Johnny Depp (but not nearly as exciting as it all used to be; he only mildly turns me on these days. What is happening to me?) - but also because it was such a gorgeous, magical place.

I'm a big fan. I can't wait to start exploring more of this place.

Experimental cooking

2009-09-10T18:12:00.000-07:00

If you've ever spent much time with me in a kitchen, you know that I'm a bit of a haphazard cook. Sometimes that works out really well, such as when I tried frying plantains (yum!):

Sometimes it doesn't work out so well, such as when I used a glass plate as a lid for my rice pot (bang!):

It had worked three or four times before, but I guess that time was just too much. The explosion really shook me up. It wasn't my best night here, needless to say. The good experiment didn't quite out-weigh the impact of the bad. Meh. We're moving on. I scored a sweet rice pot from someone selling theirs on campus. There is much rice in our future. Plantains, too.

Unscheduled

2009-09-10T17:41:00.000-07:00

Wonderman's first day of class, I felt a little bit like this:

icanread

But then I realized that the universe was telling me this:

icanread

And I felt so much better acknowledging this:

icanread

Quote

2009-09-05T17:15:00.000-07:00

I read this today in Louise Erdrich's The Plague of Doves, and it seems oddly applicable:

"What men call adventure usually consists of the stoical endurance of appalling daily misery."

There's no direct correlation, but still. . . .

Home at last!

2009-08-30T18:46:00.000-07:00

It took us a long, long time to get here, but here we are, and THANK GOODNESS!!! Isn't it lovely?

Not moving

2009-08-02T18:15:00.000-07:00

We didn't make it the whole way in one day, due to the stress of packing, cleaning, moving, as well as the naturally exhausting side-effects of being crazy. So, we finally collapsed in Hatch, UT. I told (asked) Wonderman (the lead driver) to just pull over at the next cheap-looking motel we passed. Thus, the random selection of Hatch. It was a great little town where people were friendly and it was cool enough to walk to the diner for breakfast at ten in the morning. Aaah, this is what summer is supposed to feel like.We stayed at a great motel that was simply called Motel as far as I can tell.
It was small, but clean (aside from the one centipede that Wonderman found crawling on the carpet when we first got in the room), and just what we needed - a place to sleep.

Long Lonely Drive

2009-08-02T18:05:00.000-07:00

These are landscapes taken from the driver's side of a car moving at 60 mph. Hey, it's not art if you don't take risks, right?

Why would moving be stressful?

2009-08-02T17:40:00.001-07:00

Let's just say that somehow I fail to apply all the things I've learned over the years about beginning the packing early. Sigh. However, it did get done and we have all our belongings either in the storage unit cooking slowly or in my mother's basement making us crazy.

It used to look some homey (read: cluttered). Ah well, we are gone. And I'll actually miss it. Strange, I know, after all my griping about Arizona. Still, it was home.

De-Throned

2009-07-15T18:32:00.000-07:00

Poor Wonderman. I'm trying to sell everything we can. I sold his computer chair right out from under him. Literally. He was sitting in it, doing something on the computer, when the guy called and said, "Is it still available? Can I come now?" Now my giant 6'6" love is sitting in a tiny little pink patio chair that I bought years ago when I first moved into my own apartment and didn't have a dining table, nor could I afford a real one. Poor Wonderman indeed.

Before....................................................After

Space Maker

2009-07-11T16:23:00.000-07:00

BEFORE

Well, today feels like a big step toward moving out of this apartment. We sold the entertainment center. As is visible in the before picture, it dominated the entire wall, nay, the entire living room. It was a little bit too large for this apartment. Let's be honest, it was probably too large for the apartment I was in when I received it, and that apartment was significantly larger. Sigh. I feel a tad bit sad as I have all kinds of emotional ties to my stuff, but it it also feels a little bit exciting to feel like we're actually taking some steps and may actually make it out of here. Wahoo. Sniff.

AFTER

ps - we still have the couch, the rocking chair, the dresser, the computer chair, the barstool/chair, the boombox, two cars, and lots of small house things if you know anyone who needs some household goods and would love to make a deal with us. I'm just sayin'.

Security

2009-06-27T13:03:00.000-07:00

I'll be honest, I've been a little nervous this week about leaving the country. Knowing that I need to be packed and ready to go in one month makes it seem incredibly close. Selling my furniture, the purchase of which made me feel like a real adult, has also made it feel imminent and kind of scary. Buying the plane tickets almost gave me a heart attack. Then I saw this picture here, and somehow everything seemed ok again.

Our Trip To Payson

2009-06-07T19:35:00.000-07:00

Wonderman and I went up to Payson. It was such a delight to get out of the heat and see some natural water.

I also, however, saw my first scorpion. That was a little creepy.

Hippie-fied

2009-06-07T18:55:00.000-07:00

In preparation for our big move, Wonderman decided he needed some new sandals that could survive water and other serious things. I, of course, began instantly trying to convince him that Chacos were the answer. At $95 a pop, it was a hard sell. However, Amazon and Backcountry.com came through for us. Sometimes it helps to have the oddly ginormous feet. Clearance can really help out at that point. Now I have a new Chaco-man. Doesn't he look totally hot? I've told him he may turn out to be more of a hippie than me. We'll see how that works out.

Advice on moving to Dominica

2009-06-07T18:53:00.000-07:00

And last, but not least, I asked them to give me some advice as I move to Dominica. Some were wise beyond their years, some just made me laugh. There were a PLETHORA (wink, wink) of letters advising me about not eating strange food and wearing a hat. Must be important. Here are the highlights of everything else:

Ninth Graders:

· Thank God every day for bringing you out of it all. What all? The school? Their class? Some days I do think it was a miracle that I ever made it.

· Have fun and don't drown

· Loosen up and have more fun

· Watch your stuff at all times. There are a lot of thieves in those parts, so be careful.

· Make sure you have papers or something so you can come back to the United States

· Enjoy your life and chill

· Be nicer to your students (says a student who caused me almost daily grief)

· Don't catch any diseases or get hurt

· Wear a hat, watch out for things that can hurt you (like big snakes), and have fun

· Don't eat the food if it smells funny, looks funny, or is still walking

· Buy a submarine for the hurricane season. Buy rockets for the submarine so it doesn't get attacked by pirates.

· Don't wonder outside alone, you might get kidnapped

· Have a firearm in your house so if anyone tries to break in your house and hurt you, shoot them.

· Don't walk off the island

· If a stranger offers you an exotic monkey, don't take it!

· Always wear a bullet-proof vest, just to be safe :)

· Stay off those coconuts

· Watch out for sharks

· Go to the beach a lot

· Study other people's language so you understand them

· Stay the same way you are now

· Don't like the children over there more than us

· Don't let a volcano kill you

· Don't trust anybody because in the horror movies when they take and kill anybody, it's mainly tourists.

· Don't drink and dance

· Be safe and keep up with your great attitude

· Don't drink the water

· Stay away from the male nude beaches

· Be careful with lizards, they are ugly and have long tongues

Tenth graders:

· Have fun, go to the beach, teach in a school, and have kids

· Tape yourself right now, and then again when you've been there a couple months, and so on to see how much you've changed (gotten their accent)

· Always be happy with what you have

· Don't wear that headband that cuts off your circulation to your head

· If the ocean starts to recede, RUN!!!

· After you get off the plane, take off your shoes and walk around on the carpet

· Avoid hurricanes as best you can and enjoy the sweet life on the beach!

· Don't party too much

· Don't say anything like, "You're going to hell," though. You might scare them.

· It's kinda pointless for a teen giving advice to a grown woman

· Don't get lost

· Don't drink and swim - I don't want anything dangerous to be around you 'cause you're too innocent.

· Follow your heart

· Take a boat with you because of the floodings over there

· Take something for the mosquitoes

· Don't step on spiders

· Don't get eaten by any sharks

· Have lots and lots of fun

· Shorts, sandals, short sleeves

· Wear sunscreen

· Don't join any gangs, it will not be good for you

· Don't get locked up abroad

· Show your wild side and stop playing so shy. Heh. If they only knew.

· Don't ever forget that you were a real inspiration to the future greatest drummer there will ever be - ME! Sigh. And yet I couldn't inspire him to pass.

2009-06-07T18:45:00.000-07:00

Another delight was reading students' commentary on the most important thing they learned in class. At first I was very excited about how many of them said it was Shakespeare and Romeo and Juliet, but then I had to step back and realize that it was simply the last big thing we learned and probably all they could think of. Sigh. Here are some of the highlights, aside from Shakespeare.

· Don't use your bathroom passes right away. Or listen to your teacher when she warns you about that.

· Most Freshmen are still sixth graders. My thoughts exactly.

· I had more creativity than I thought I did. I love hearing things like that.

· Not to get too many detentions. Alas, he did.

· Never act like Salvador in class. Always solid advice.

· Be nice to your teachers. Ah, someone was listening.

· Keep my nose forward. The best way to pay attention, really.

· English can be fun. Wait, what? I'm not sure I read that right. Fun? I obviously didn't do my job.

· Intriguing facts about life and love. Deep.

· What you told us about love. Alright, I confess. I did give a mini-lecture on how love is defined. Sixteen-year-olds want to know. And since I know everything, I got to tell them.

- How to have fun. Again, in English? Weird.

· You have teached me how to write a research paper and many other things. Sigh. Well, I'm glad I teached him something.

Nine Days Later

2009-06-07T18:36:00.001-07:00

Well, it's official. School's been out for just over a week and I already miss it. The first few days were of course a glorious period filled with much joyful bounding about. Then I took out the letters I had my kids write to me on the last day of school. Reading them made me feel all sad and not a little bit weepy. (Speaking of being weepy, I was surprised at how teary I felt when it came time to leave. I had only been there for one semester, had only made a couple friends that I would consider close, and had spent the first half of the semester wondering why I had ever thought it would be a good idea to take over someone else's class mid-semester. Still, I nearly cried multiple times, which is saying a lot for me since I basically never cry [sorry Mom]. Anyway, the letter reading made me weepy. Here are a few choice excerpts (any mention of names has been changed, to protect my sweet innocent students from any creepers that might get personal information from their letters to me. Ok, I know it's paranoid, but that's what I've learned from Wonderman - paranoia):

"You have a very . . . what's the word . . . um . . . straightforward personality. That's what makes you a good teacher." - K. H. - This is from one of the sweetest students ever. At the beginning of the semester, I thought she was afraid of me, but I think we worked things out.

"One of the things I liked about your class was that you always explained what we were supposed to do in a funny way (just that you laughed a lot). What I didn't like was that you always made me put my makeup away." - G. H. - poor kid, that I always made her put her makeup away.

This one is a sweet rhyme from one of my more vocal (and, of course favorite) tenth graders: Dear Mrs. Bindell, you served us well. While you're living in paradise, we'll still be in hell. I know you'll miss this class, especially me. I'll never forget your sarcastic comedy. In Arizona we'll be catching rain; in Dominica you'll be catching hurricanes. Even though you're moving southeast, I'll still be Steven Stone, the Crumb-bucket BEAST!!!"

And, of course, the necessary philosophical ponderings of a sixteen-year-old: "Without any rain, there wouldn't be any rainbows." - A. C.

Privacy

2009-05-22T20:45:00.000-07:00

You must know, as I titled the post, I heard it in my head pronounced with a short "i," yet emphasizing the "i," as the British might say it, like "privy." Anyway, please understand that the pronunciation seems somehow significant here.

This blog is to be a record of my adventures with my beloved. We're on our way to bold new worlds and I promised everyone (which of course includes you!) I'd keep them updated on our journeys. The challenge will be to find the balance between privacy and exposure. I'm fairly open, in a very enigmatic sort of way, while my beloved is extremely private to a point that borders on severe paranoia. (Exaggerate much, Wonder Blogger?) In fact, I keep calling him beloved because, well first because he is, and secondly because I can't think of a great code name for him and I feel certain that I can't use his real name and have him be comfortable with it. Sigh. "Husband" feels to stiff, "Hubs" almost too silly, but it's tempting. I'll probably end up with something even more delightfully silly like "Wonder Man," although that does take SOOO LONG to type. Maybe just "WM" on days I'm feeling lazy. I'll just have to be sure and not include a "D," as that could be dangerous for everyone.

It's all rather trite and put on, since of course we all know the only people who will be reading this are related to us, but alas. I will put in the effort to feed the frenzied mind while I can. That's what love will do to a girl. Let me know if you have any great suggestions of what he should be called.