Milestones

Both of the big kids have passed big milestones in the past few weeks.
Elijah:
The sidewalks in Polanco are even worse than those of NOLA…never thought I’d see the day. As a result, Elijah has deemed his bike evil. He often calls it “silly, old bike,” which is the worst possible derision in the house as of now (along with “Viola Swamp,” “baby,” and “girl”: Claire gets really mad when E calls her a girl and says, “I no girl, I niña, right mom?” E also calls various things “fat” but I’m not sure he knows what that means.) I was convinced that teaching him to ride sans training wheels would exorcise the bike. And when the training wheels broke about 5 times on the way home from school on Thursday due to the beautiful sidewalks, I knew the time had arrived. Friday he rode to and from school without training wheels, often exclaiming, “Let go Mom!” And he rode like a pro right off the bat.


Claire:
We are eternally grateful that we will never have to change another dirty diaper from Claire (a big knock on wood). She has been in big niña calzones for the past few weeks, with a few accidents when she’s distracted for long periods of time, but getting better.
Yes, she fashioned the following outfit, and yes, it fit her a year ago.
On the way to pick E up last week, Claire pointed at every man we passed and asked me if he was her father. After several of my negative responses, she concluded that she was her own father…until she saw the tractor.

FMTYCBWWAAS: bought a dirty clothes hamper today. And how can you tell I bought it at a stoplight? One of the legs is at least an inch shorter than the other 3. The seller disappeared soon after the purchase, preventing return or exchange.
FMT: Demeaning jobs. Yesterday on the way back from school, there was a group of 4 men: 3 dressed up in huge cavemen outfits and one in tights and a loincloth advertising cough medicine at every red light. Elijah joined the action and got to hold the club. Today we saw elves at another stoplight. To top it off was a show today at the supermarket. Imagine 2 midgets. Imagine 2 midgets in full-body diapers. Imagine 2 midgets in full-body diapers with red hearts covering their heads, doubling the size of their bodies, and bobbing up and down isles, waving cooking oil in everybody’s face. Image a stealth gringo stalking these 2 midgets around the store trying to get a good, discrete picture of them. The agent-in-training managed to get someone's derriere: perfect evidence.