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SO SORRY TO REPORT THAT THERE ARE 3 MORE CASES OF THE VOMIT VIRUS GOING AROUND. THESE 3 CASES ARE/WERE IN THE JAGUAR GROUP. SYMPTOMS ARE SUDDEN ONSET OF VOMITING & SOME REPORTS OF DIARRHEA. A REMINDER THAT OUR ILLNESS POLICY IS 24 HOURS SYMPTOM FREE BEFORE RETURN TO SCHOOL.

Pleasant.

(alternate title: “What Diego teaches my kids, part two“)

Tonight during bed time stories…

Me: “Point to the parrot Tobias… [points], point to the sloth… [points], point to the leopard…[does not point], the l-e-o-p-a-r-d (spoken slowly)… [does not point], here is the leopard! [I point].”

Tobias: “That is not a leopard, that is a jaguar.”

Guess he told me.

Again this year, the floor of my house was covered for three solid days with bits of molded plastic sent from relatives and brought by “santa.” There were major battles over all of the various trademarked related merchandise, like the countless Diego toys (thanks mom), Tonka trucks (because Caleb had told anyone who would listen that Santa was bringing him a blue truck) and SpongeBob/BackYardigans balls. Some of these battles ended in wounds that are still bleeding (like the one Tobias’s face - I can see how being the younger brother of a bully might really suck). But Caleb’s seemingly favorite present was a pack of new underwear I bought him at Target. Go figure.

My dad was in town and Tobias followed him from room to room until he left this morning. So now every time a plane passes our house he asks if it is the one “Baboo” is on.

Tobias was taken to the barber where he pitched such a fit they only cut a bit off the front, so now he looks like a NASCAR driver.

And my sister also had her baby - welcome to our effed up family Sam! I can’t wait to meet you. Congratulations to Kathryn and her krewe.

So, last night Tobias needed a new diaper. We were in West Oakland. The only thing that appeared to be a Safeway had been converted into a Baptist Church, so our remaining option was a corner liquor store - you know the kind, metal gates surrounding the building, cardboard advertisements for Miller High Life in the windows, one lone bulb lighting the place.

Thing is, to pay for the diapers - “Fitti” brand, I am not kidding - we needed to use a card, and to use a card there was a $2 surcharge. You’re stuck in West Oakland, don’t have any cash, you need a diaper so your baby’s mama doesn’t freak on you for not thinking to pick them up earlier in the day, you think you could also use a six-pack while you are at it, you have one of those credit cards that keep showing up in the mail. What would you do? You pay with the card. You need diapers now and that $2 is not real anyway is it? Not yet. Not til it fucks up your credit and you can never buy your own car or house or even think of paying off your credit card debt - which by now is chock full of surcharges, service fees, late payment charges, you name it.

Yet another way we have institutionalized keeping poor people poor.

Caleb doesn’t yet talk - though he is 2 and a half. He understands Spanish and English perfectly, hears fine, not autistic, good coordination and makes himself understood pretty well considering. He does speak his own language, which is complex once you get to know it, and involves a few clicking words, which never cease to amuse me (just ask him to say “moon” or “balloon”).

I was a vegetarian for 15 years prior to getting pregnant. Living in rural France as a vegetarian was hard enough, but pregnant, practically impossible. At the hospital the doctors insisted I eat plates and plates of dried meats. When Caleb was 1 and a half, he went to Louisiana with my father and stayed for nearly 6 weeks - getting stuck during Hurricane Katrina and Rita. Southern food invariably involves lots of meat, particularly ham. The vegetarian dishes are even cooked with ham (which to them are just called “vegetables” - but if you are lucky, with ham hock instead of fat back).

So, it should come as no surprise that the first word that Caleb truly says with any real clarity and conviction is “ham.” As in “Have HAM?” “More HAM, pweeease.” “No more HAM.” “HAM food.” “HAM fall floor.” “Bodhi have HAM.” “HAM mmmmmmmmmm.”

With my second son, Tobias, I am working on “tofu.” He is almost there and he is not allowed to go to either France or Louisiana until I am through.