…Again, it has been awhile since I’ve updated.
My babies continue to blossom and grow into children. Azzo is going to be five in no time. He’s asked me for a pillow pet. We’ve picked out the fabric (red mock corduroy) and a stuffie whose head and appendages will lovingly be dismembered and reconstructed onto the body of a pillow. Pictures to follow.
He’s also asked for a pinata, and fully expects a bouquet of balloons. His theme will again be Azzo Red, for that is his favorite color.
He is writing his name, everywhere. ASSO. *wry smile* He also writes Zimm’s name for him. SMM. Because SMM is 3, not 4. Only ASSO has 4.
He draws, too. Draws happy faces, smiles. You are my sunshines. Baby sister in outer space with a placenta and cord.
He’s such a big help to me, I try not to burden him too much or place too much responsibility on him. But he knows, as the oldest, that he has a special place in my heart and in my cupboard – he has his own bag of toffees that he is treated to in confidence for being mama’s helper. He cleans his room, he occupies his sister, picks up the things I’ve dropped, holds the door open, and he “be’s havin'” when I’m on the phone.
Zimm has astounded me with his sudden vocabular growth spurt. He is three and talking up a storm. He has a bifid uvula, which causes him to have a somewhat nasally little voice. I find it so endearing. His mispronunciations make my heart melt. You say tomato, he says glamato. He’s cut his own hair, he’s picked his own shoes (shiny red shoes). He has a flair about him that I relish – sparkly, bright, loud, gaudy, starwars and dinosaurs. He breaks open all the eggs in search of dinosaurs. He reads out loud to himself, he dances.
Zuli is walking, talking, growing teeth, and using the potty. She wears under-pants (pens) and wears diapers to bed (dappi). She goes pehpehpeh in the pot. And she goes pup-pup in the pot as well. And waves baibai as it flushes. She loves bob-bob (nursing) and bubbuder (brothers). She eats plums, bananas, tomatoes, peaches, steamed carrots broccoli potatoes spaghetti but only a few bites here or there, she still gets the bulk of her nutrition from nursing. Claps her hands, knows where my nose and her butt and bellybutton are. We played find-the-bellybutton and she leaned forward, pulled on her own belly and giggled when she found her button – seemed like she outsmarted that big round tummy.
I love my babies.
Here’s something I’m often wont to discuss, though:
I get overwhelmed, more often than I wish.
Azzo asks “why” all the time. It is a knee-jerk reaction to anything he observes or anything I ever say. I admire that he “questions everything” but also feel so inadequate because way more often than not, I simply don’t have the answer, or the means (or patience) to find them as quickly as his attention span will allow. I swore I would never answer “Why” with “…Because” so instead I try to answer more honestly: “I don’t know, child, I don’t know why.”
Zimm flings his body full of pent-up energy and selfexpression life and love all over the place. “FWEEEE!!” he says. “IMFINITY EMBEYON!” and, “PIG PILE!” As someone who grew up with those phrases myself (homage due to Pixar’s Toy Story), I never ever could have imagined that the very phrases I uttered in play would actually be wrought back upon me with such frequency or gusto or lack of regard to life or limb.
Zuli, well, Zuli’s the baby and at this point, is not annoying.
Except when she is standing on my feet and I’m trying to make dinner. Still too little to enlist help. However, I can strap her to my back in a mei tai – that works well enough.
And a little of my petty trivialities: I lost my only pair of shoes, boots that I’d scored at thrift for $6 or $7, I’d nearly walked the soles off them when my friend’s dog finished them off. She let me borrow her shoes, seeing as how she’s broke like I am. Then I was blessed by my friends and just upgraded to a pair of used Harley boots I found on eBay. I’m anxiously awaiting their arrival. You have no idea how exciting it is for me, to get shoes. I’ve had three pairs of shoes in the last year. One pair I’d had since 2009 which were a size too large and shamefully “traded” at a thrift store for a pair that were too small… Then I bought another pair, again a size too small. And then my boots I just lost, they were great except that they were cheap boots not functional and I wore them out way too fast. Now I’ll be getting real shoes, in my size, and this will be the first time in 4 years that I have bought shoes that will last, shoes that I picked for ME and not shoes that will do until I can find some another time.
My friend said I seemed so happy. I was so happy I almost cried. I am making her jewelry as thanks.
Then I also got two solar water heaters, part of a trade for a custom mei tai. It works out perfectly in the summer. I’ll go on about how perfect it is, 10 glorious gallons of hot water at the end of a scorching day in the desert. It’s so perfect. I wash each child before filling up the shower-floor with warm water. On a really hot day, I’ll even have to add cold before they can get in. Then they spray water at each other with squirty toys and dump cups of water on each others’ heads for about an hour, and yell for me to “make me a burrito!!” and that’s my cue to wrap them each in a towel and line them up, in order of size on the couch and watch them fall asleep. At some point while they’re distracted I manage a shower *alone* and for all 4 minutes I feel in heaven. The things we take for granted, living in a privileged world of hot running water. You’d never think how blessed a few gallons of hot water could make you feel until that’s all you have. Then you feel like royalty for having it.
All three of my kids had a stomach bug yesterday and now they are fine. You know what sucks worse than three kids with a stomach bug? Six loads of laundry after.
My wrists hurt from typing. I’ll sum it up, that’s my life for the last few weeks.
I love my life, I’m incredibly grateful for what I have. And I feel so guilty for all that I do have when others have so little.