A visit to VincentWorld

Women, Cesar. Heck, women, men.. it doesn't matter really. Gifts for whomever you chose to buy them for are a symbol of the care and thought you put into another person. There are a variety of "types" of gifts. They range from gifts that are meant to be a joke, otherwise known as 'gag' gifts, to trinkets that are souvenirs, to gifts that are specifically chosen as representations of deep love. They can be as extravagant or as simple as you wish, and expense really has nothing to do with it. A gift, whether it costs a pretty penny or is handmade, is only worth as much as the receiver will value it.

So now I'm going to tell you a funny story. When I was younger I learned a lot about my mother mainly in that there were very few things she actually desired. She was more of a gift giver than a receiver so one Mother's Day I paid very close attention to what she might like. The holiday came closer and as usual, my father was last minute about it. He's a wonderful man, your Grandpa Harley, brilliant really. But also very last minute about gifts. We jumped from store to store in search of a movie I told him mom would want. Love Potion #9. A romantic movie, but one she wanted. If I had been older I would have realized that store hopping probably wasn't as fun or as practical for my father as it was for my brother and I as children. Eventually, my father settled on a new idea... Highlander. I told him it was wrong. I told him there was no way. He rationalized it. He told us that he remembered she had seen it once and liked it, and that was that.

As I child, I was all too proud to vocalize my victory. To announce that the look on my mother's face translated her disappointment was overkill, but I didn't know any better. I just knew that I was right. It probably hurt my dad's feelings a lot. Then again, since my mom's feelings were hurt as well, so it probably evened out quite nicely. Of course, I won't bother to tell you about the time my dad got my mom coffee pots on three consecutive holidays.. though I like to bring it up whenever I can. He's definitely gotten better these past few years, but it still makes for some hilarious stories.

So please, take note, but laugh when I tell you that your father is ridiculous. Sometimes I like to say that he lives in VincentWorld. In VincentWorld, things are much different. I don't talk nearly as much and my opinions are vastly different. This is why I had little expectations when your father left to Mexico, and promised to bring us back his usual trinkets. I asked for a bottle of liquor, but he insisted he was going to get one anyway, and that he would bring me back something else... so expectations rose a tiny bit. Then, he told me during a phone call he had gotten me something that I was really going to like... and my expectations rose a bit higher. First thing I pictured was a little skull from the recent Day of the Dead celebration... something like that. I could add it to my Halloween collection for next year. Your father has this silly little rule going on that he "doesn't buy girls jewelry," so that was out of the question. Okay, I get his rule. I don't like it (somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice squeaks, "but I'm not a girl.. I'm... I'm special, aren't I?").  But just because you have that rule doesn't mean you get to slack off and buy whatever! So are you ready for the funny part? Your father presents me with a little toy guitar. I felt so bad, because my thought process told me that you are the kid, you're the baby, so when he said he had something for you also, I immediately thought he was trying to trick me, that he was going to pull out something beautiful and pretend like he had switched the gifts around. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Above: Your present and mine. You got a little sombrero, and that's my guitar which I donated to you. Honestly, I wonder if he just bought you the hat and guitar and forgot about me altogether. I'm joking of course. (November 2011)

I'm sure I looked a little confused when I said, "Um, what am I supposed to do with this?" Of course, naturally I was scolded for being unappreciative, but in my defense I couldn't help it! I gave you the guitar instead, and at least you got some great use out of it. I'm really glad you like it, because I would have felt just awful if no one were around to appreciate it. And please, honey, it's not that I didn't appreciate what your father was trying to do. I just sometimes wonder if he knows me as well as I think he does. On a funny note, I was so upset that I had to count all of the other reasons your father is so wonderful, and as I did I found that I was less and less hurt and more amused by the audacity of it. Your father is terrible at gift selection, but it just means that I have to be specific (insist on that bottle of liquor!). There's no use in letting one flaw cancel out ten great qualities that your father has about him. I'm certain that in VincentWorld I really liked the gift and it was all I'd ever wanted and RealWorld Amanda probably hurt your dad's feelings by the recoil reflex that was beyond my control.

So that's my funny story for you about your father and I for now. At least he returned in one piece, and that is something I am extraordinarily grateful for.

Placing the blame...

Your father left for Mexico today. I hope he is alright. He called me last just after crossing the border, but we weren't certain he would have service in Monterrey. I'm going to assume that he does not, but come Sunday I will be anxious to hear back from him. I get a little worried because of all the violence in Mexico. It's mainly attributed to all of the drug related activities, and tourists aren't really targeted because of this, but accidents happen. Vincent is so confident and sure. I tell him to be safe and that nothing had better happen to him.

That leaves  you here with me, and incidentally, you refuse to go to sleep. I had this idiotic vision that I would get you to bed around your normal time, then I would have a few hours to watch a movie and enjoy myself. Well, aren't you the cruel one! You decided that you just won't fall asleep! So, I've decided to blame your father tonight. After all, if he were here he could put you to sleep with his magic. It's that passive calm he has about him that works so well with you. But no, he decided to go enjoy his vacation time, to make the most of it! Meanwhile, I am here trying to entertain you.

Of course, I hope you realize that was completely sarcastic. It's a game your father and I play. We try to decide whose fault it is whenever something goes out of whack. Sometimes we blame each other, sometimes we blame you (typically when we've decided to have a momentary peace treaty), and other times, we all gang up together and just blame the president (Obama). Life, after all, is all about where to place the blame. It's a cool lesson you will learn soon enough. Everyone wants to blame something or someone when things don't go according to plan, and it may be you sometimes even when the fault does not lie with anyone at all. We try not to take it too seriously, which is why we took up this charade. Blame is sometimes so overrated, especially since most of the time it doesn't alleviate the situation, it just gives us a target for anger. So... that's my lesson for today. In the meantime, you are crying again, so I am off to see if I can't get you to sleep again.

Above: You and your father, wearing matching WWE shirts hailing the wrestler known as The Rock. What a cute pair! (October 2011)

Monkeys love bananas!

Above: In your crib! With pirate PJ's! It all matches. As you can tell, your crib is open on the front. That is because it is set against our bed so that we can all sleep together. (October 2011)

 Your father has been on vacation since Saturday. I hope we aren't too boring for him, though I really haven't been doing what I normally do either. Usually, when he goes to work, I go about my day, which includes cleaning, entertaining and teaching you, and trying to find a bit of time to enjoy myself. I suppose since he has come on vacation, I have sort of jumped onto that bandwagon with you. I figure it's the best I can do, seeing as a stay-at-home-mother I really don't get vacation in the same sense at this time. So I've been very lazy about my duties and about reading to you. We've been watching TV, pigging out on the spoils of candy from Halloween, and just in general having a lazy time of it.

Still, that doesn't mean I'm a complete slob. I've done laundry, and after Monday I reluctantly removed the Halloween decorations and began the packing process. I really don't have anything for Thanksgiving, but I don't mind that so much since Yule is fast approaching right behind it.

Your father may or may not go to Mexico after all. Things sort of went up in the air because he lost his wallet, and had to go about getting all of his items replaced, which can be a big hassle. He hopes to go, but if so it will be for maybe a day, which isn't much. I feel bad about it because I now he loves to travel, and with Mexico so close it was one of his favorite getaways. I hope he doesn't get frustrated about not going. I try to encourage him to go whenever he can, but one day just doesn't seem like much fun, especially since he wants to take a bus there and that will take hours just for the travel time. One day I hope we can take a family vacation somewhere together, and I hope someday, when you are older and mature, he will take you south of the border as well.

In the meantime, today you tried banana. I ate most of it, but your father mashed up a nice little bit for you. The nice thing about letting you eat sparingly right now is that you aren't having to eat jarred up, processed baby food. We can share bits of fresh things with you, and somehow I find that so much more appealing. You enjoyed banana very much, just the same as you did avocado and hummus. You get a terribly ugly loo on your face at first, and then you become excited and start crying for more or grabbing the spoon and shoving it into your mouth!

Return of the Butterflies

Samhain is said to have began as a Celtic tradition. Samhain translates to "summer's end," which was a pivotal point in their calendar year. It is believed that on this night, the veil between the world of the dead, and the world of the living, is at it thinnest.

That being said, variations of Samhain are found throughout many cultures, even those that recognize Halloween as more of an American practice. Your father, Vincent, is making plans to visit his cousin in Mexico just after October 31st since he has vacation at that time. Mexico celebrates the Days of the Dead, or Los Dias de los Muertos (Oct. 31- Nov. 2). This is a joyous time of celebration and reverence for lost loved ones. An old Aztec belief that butterflies carry the spirits of their departed ancestors still carries on. In the fall season, scores of Monarch butterflies return to the oyamel fir trees of Mexico.

Today I watched my first horror movie of the season. Since you were teething I rocked you to sleep and left you in my arms while I watched the movie. It was recommended to me by my friend, Patricia and was called The Baby's Room. It was classified as a foreign film from Mexico, and featured subtitles (which I prefer to dubbing). So you could say we had a Mexican themed spook day! You slept soundly throughout most of the film, which I am thankful for. Your tooth has not broken through yet, and I can definitely tell by the way you cry. You are currently in a decent mood after your nap and you're sitting in my lap while I write this. I wonder sometimes if you will go to Mexico with your father when you get older. Right now there is a lot of violence going on. It worries me that Vincent goes, but he assures me that it is mostly drug cartels who are lashing out against specific people. He says that while the occasional tourist is hit, it is extremely rare. This is because the tourists bring welcome money, and really have nothing to do with the trafficking. Still, it unsettles me. I wonder if you will have the confident attitude of your father and how much I will worry about you. As I look upon you now, I think that yes, one day you will be a great man, but I will always be able to envision you like this.

Below: Your father pushes your stroller down Broadway street here. The street was closed off for a fitness event, and loads of people were biking, walking, and even rollerblading down the long stretch. We, on the other hand, were picking a place to eat!  It is funny for me to think that one day you will be walking alongside him, and someday you might even be taller than him! (October 2011)