Party Animal

I got schooled on another one of your American traditions last week.

The kid birthday party phenomenon .

It's an amazing thing. It works like this: All of the parents that have kids, more or less the same age, get together and socialize together while ignoring their children for hours at a time.

It sounds crazy... but it works. It's because all of the Mommies and Daddies already know each other. They've been friends forever, except that now they never get to see each other. Why? Because of us.. their children. So everytime that there is a birthday for one of the kids... they all jump into action and get together to "celebrate the child's birthday"... but we know better. They're there to socialize with each other... period.

In this case, the excuse... I mean the birthday boy was named Austin and he had a costume birthday party at this really cool place that was full of these amazing structures filled with air. I've never seen anything like it. They were huge and tall like sky scrapers and they were all different colors and shapes. Daddy says that they are called Bounce Houses and he says that they are very common in this country. It works differently in Colombia. Where I'm from... when it's your birthday they take you into the bedroom and tell you to jump on the bed. The bed is in your house... there's your bounce house. Congratulations, have a piece of cake.
Austin's Daddy, Uncle Oscar, took me into the bounce house because Daddy was not allowed by the management to enter with me because he wasn't wearing socks. Daddy tried to explain that he was wearing sandals that day and that he didn't know the rules, but the manager told him that he could not enter a bounce house without socks for reasons of hygene. Daddy said that someone should explain these intricate hygene rules to the 4 year old who was currently peeing down the bouncy slide at the back end of the room.

Another thing that I noticed about these Kid Parties is the food. There's pizza and cake and soft drinks and chips and cookies. But the kids don't eat it. They're too busy running around in the bounce houses to even stop and think about food. We can eat later. The bounce houses will only be available for the next 3 hours!

So who gets to eat all of this junk food? The parents! They sit around gossiping and laughing with each other while shoving pizza down their throat and drinking diet softdrinks from tiny paper cups with Dora The Explorer on them.
After about 2 hours on the bounce house I was ready for a nap. My friend Mia told me that I was the best play date that she had ever had. That made me feel good because I know that her Mommy and Daddy are really good friends with my Mommy and Daddy. So that means that we'll probably be seeing a lot more of each other everytime we get together to "celebrate another child's birthday".

In the end, I guess it ends up as a win-win situation for everybody involved. The kids get to run around and play together... the parents get to see each other and hang out together... and the birthday boy or girl ends up with a boat-load of presents and a day to remember. As a matter of fact... the birthday boy, Austin, was so busy running around in his little Indiana Jones costume that I didn't even get to take a picture with him.

But that's Okay. I got to take lots of pictures with the real guests of honor at this party... the parents.

One Small Step for Man... And Other Amazing Stunts

So Daddy decided that it was time for me to stop being afraid of grass and dirt. Just like that... he decided that it was time. So, once again, the ugly side of this dictatorship that we call parenthood has reared it's ugly head.

Because, once again, there was no discussion... no memo... not even a carrier pigeon to deliver the news to me. I just woke up one day and Daddy announced that we had chores to do in the back yard. He then marched me out to that pile of dirt and weeds that he calls a back yard and plopped me down in the middle of it.

At first... I was a bit unsure. Please understand one thing. It's not that I'm a prude or anything like that. The reason that I'm not comfortable out in nature is because I don't have much experience with it. Remember that I spent the first year of my life in a room with 15 other babies who were also waiting to adopt parents. There was barely enough time to keep us fed and in clean diapers to worry about taking us for field trips into the great outdoors. And even when I did get to go outside, it was usually for a very short time and they almost never put me on the ground.

But those days are over. I can go outside anytime I want to now. And Daddy said that it was time to stop being silly and embrace the dirt and the grass.

And so I did.
Mommy has this bannana plant in the back yard and Daddy decided that it was time for a little trim. Nothing drastic, just a little clean up project. So he casually carries me out to the middle of the yard and just plops me down in the tall grass and then walks away without saying a word.

What? Really?

Stupid Bannana Plant.

So I slowly make my way forward on my hands and knees... not bad. Then I stood up and tried to see if I could do a little grass walking. I did okay... about four steps before I fell... and felt nothing. And that's when it happened. That was the moment that I finally got the whole grass thing.

It doesn't hurt when you fall on it. That's why sports are played on it and picnics are had on top of it. Because it's soft... or at least softer than concrete or tile floors, which is what I'm used to.

I get it! I finally get it!
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of tumbles and falls and handfulls of grass and dirt and mud and rocks and weeds and bugs. It was awesome. I didn't just get over my fear of the back yard... I dominated that back yard... I rocked that back yard.

I walked from the dirt... to the grass... to the fence... to the stupid bannana plant... to the grill... and then back to the dirt again. I must have fallen over 20times that day... and not a single one hurt my hands, knees or butt. Daddy just kept on trimming the tree and watched me with a little smile on his face the whole time as I got myself as dirty as I've ever been in my life.

Eventually, Daddy finished what he was doing with the trees and plants and joined me on the floor. We built little dirt roadways and pushed some of my toy cars through them... then we drew shapes and letters in the dirt with a stick... and ended our day with a little wrestling match on the grass. When Mommy came home and found Daddy and I in our filthy clothes coming in from the back yard she couldn't help but laugh.

Did the baby cry again when you put him on the grass? she asked.
No. Daddy said. He doesn't cry with that anymore... and don't call him a baby.
What shall we call him then? Mommy asked.
Little Man Daddy said with a smile. He is now my Little Man.

There was a strange look on Daddy's face as he carried me upstairs for my bath. Mommy said, later, that it was pride. She said that he was proud of me for overcoming one of my fears in such a convincing manner. Mommy also said that now that I've overcome my fear of grass... I can now move forward and become the professional athlete that Daddy has been telling everybody I'm going to become anyway. I don't know what kind of athlete I'm going to be. All I know is that this whole making your parents proud of you thing leaves everyone with a pretty good feeling inside.

Little Man likes that.

Daddy says for me to stay next to the bannana plant... uh... I don't see it.

Okay Daddy... don't move... but there is a 25 foot snake right behind you... and it's spitting up a river of water... wait... that's the hose... nevermind.

While Daddy attempts to point... shoot... and click. I'll attempt to eat this bug.

Bringing Home The Bacon

I have an issue. It isn't so much an issue as much as it is a point of confusion for me. I don't understand exactly what it is that my parents do with themselves all day. All I know is that they leave in the morning and then I don't see them again till the evening. That's over 8 hours of unsupervised freedom. Completely unacceptable. They could be anywhere... doing anything. You know how they are at that age. I know that they go to this place called work but... what does that mean?

I imagine a huge building with a single flashing neon sign that reads: WORK! They come home tired so they must have them doing some kind of strenuous physical activities in there. They also stay late sometimes so it must be at least a little fun... because no one stays extra time at a place where they aren't having a good time, right?

My days are pretty routine from Monday to Friday. We all get up together and have breakfast and then I go off with Mommy to day care while she and Daddy go off to work. Daddy was out of town all last week on a business trip in a place called Las Vegas. He's a part of a huge team that produces a TV show with live music and awards every year. The show was on way past my bedtime so I didn't get to see it but Mommy did and she thought it was good. But she thinks everything that Daddy does is good. She must either really like him... or must really not want to hurt his feelings. It's probably a little bit of both. Daddy came home looking exhausted but I surprised him with my new trick and he forgot all about his aching feet.
I can walk... sort of.

I don't know how or when it happened. One day I was doing my standing up trick and then before I knew what was happening... I lost my balance, leaned forward and started putting one leg in front of another and I walked... sort of. I didn't think too much of it, no bog deal, right? But Mommy and Daddy reacted like I had just discovered gold in the back yard. They immediately put me in front of the computer so I could perform my new little trick for the grandparents in Puerto Rico and Texas... naturally, I refused.

Sigh

Will these two ever learn? I do the trick mostly in the mornings. That's when I have the most strength in my legs. By 4pm I'm tired and thinking about eating and pooping and my bath time and my bed time. I'm no good at night. I lose all of my equilibrium and stumble around the house knocking over things. Mommy says that I remind her of a bull in a china shop when I do that. Daddy says that I remind him of his Tio Felipe on Saturday nights when I do that. I don't know what he means by that but it sure makes Daddy laugh everytime he says it. By the way Mommy reacted to the joke makes me think that she may have a Tio Felipe or two in her family as well.

So after much consideration I've decided to allow my parents to keep working. I'm still not sure exaclty what goes on in there for 8-10 hours everyday that's so important that they can't hang out with me... but I've decided to give them the benefit of the doubt. Daddy says that I will soon learn that a man is defined by what he does for a living. He says that he works his butt off everyday so that I can learn, through his example, the importance of making hard work a daily habit. Mommy says that all of that macho talk is fine and good... as long as Daddy doesn't, one day, decide to teach me through his example, the importance of passing gas as a daily habit.

I'm way ahead of the both of them on that trick.

So for now, I think I'll keep on doing what I've been doing. I adopted these guys almost 5 months ago and I've learned that the best way to go about it is to give them prizes a little bit at a time. You don't just get up and show them that you can walk all at once. You gotta milk it a little. First, you show them you can stand up by yourself and they go crazy. Then you show them that you can take a few steps and they lose their minds. Next, I plan to say the words Mommy and Daddy to them. After they come to, I'm sure that they'll call everybody up again so that I can repeat it for everyone in the family... Of course I will refuse and drive them absolutely up the wall. It's all a part of my master plan to destroy their spirits and minds. That's when I'll pull out the big guns. That's when I'll look them in the eyes and say... I love you.

The great Tom Landry said it best: You gotta break 'em all the way down in order to properly build them back up again. That's just how I roll.

I'll keep you posted.

A Little Monkey Business

Halloween Rocks! Can I just get that one thing off of my chest? Halloween is the best American idea since air conditioning. Every holiday should be like Halloween. They should cancel all other holidays and weekends and make them all like Halloween! I don't know if you can tell... but I really liked Halloween. What's not to like? You get dressed up in a costume and then you go outside your house when it gets dark and then people give you candy.

Brilliant.

Out of all the new American traditions and customs that I've learned over the last 4 months... This Trick-or-Treat business is, by far, the best. It's fool-proof and a win-win situation for everybody involved. The kids get candy... the adults get yet another excuse to get together... and the people at home handing out the candy get a free costume show. It's Genius!

The evening began when Daddy and I visited Mommy on Halloween Sunday as she was finishing taping her TV show. I helped her finish up a couple of budget spread sheets and then organized her rehearsal schedules for the following week and then we called it a day.... okay, truth be told, she was the one that did all of those things while I ate Cheerios from her lap and blew cute little monkey farts on her for a little over an hour. What can I say? I'm a gassy monkey.

Tio Yared was there in his costume and a lot of people from the production team were wearing funny costumes too. I saw a guy dressed like Elvis, and another lady was dressed like Charlie Chaplin... I even saw a black Harry Potter guy. There were a couple of costumes in the studio audience too. I saw witches, goblins and cowboys.

I noticed a different feeling in the air that day. People were in a little better mood and everyone was happier as they laughed and joked with each other about their costumes. Mommy calls it Holiday Cheer. She says that people behave differently on holidays because holidays are special days that focus on the family. Maybe that's why I felt so good that whole day... Because I finally have a family.

So what's a monkey to do? I needed a little something more for my costume to feel truly real. But what? I was doing my part. Cute... adorable... calm. But I just felt like I needed something extra to make it perfect. I looked like a monkey but I didn't feel like a monkey. I needed ambience... I needed a set designer.

Daddy is not much into dressing up in costumes. He thinks it's silly. Mommy doesn't agree. Mommy loves to dress up and be silly and she thinks that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Daddy says that the reason he wouldn't dress up in a silly costume is because he's 10 years older than Mommy and with age comes self-awareness. Mommy said that the reason he wouldn't dress up in a silly costume was because he was a wus.

I had to take over the situation. If Daddy felt embarrased by dressing up then we had to find a costume that would cover his face. But what kind of costume covers your face and also complements a monkey outfit?...
Have you hugged a tree today?

I don't know if all monkeys live like this... but this is a cush life.

Daddy says that Tio Angel looked like Captain Kirk... if he were a hair dresser.

Isabella was dresed up as a 60's chick. Daddy said that she looked just like Goldie Hawn when she was on a show called Laugh In. Nobody knew what he was talking about... again.

Mommy took over in the tree outfit after Daddy was chopped down by Miguel Angel.

I got through my first American holiday with smashing success. Now let's see what this Thanksgiving thing is all about. Do I get to dress up like a turkey?

I'm in!

4 Month Anniversary and Other Observations

My Parent's Gotcha Day was 4 months ago.

4 whole months. Think about that. That's roughly 120 days... 2,880 hours... 172,800 minutes... you get my drift, right? My Daddy says that a relationship between a boy and a girl isn't officially a relationship until they reach the 4 month marker. Applying that same logic... I guess we are now officially a family.

I guess it's true what people say about how once you get parents, the time starts to fly by, and then they quickly begin to grow old right before your eyes. I already am starting to forget what my life was like before them.

These first 4 months have had their ups and downs. A lot of good times and a couple of not-so-good times.

Overall I think I made out pretty well in this adoption. A lot of times, when you adopt parents, it can take a while to warm up to them. They're nervous or anxious and don't allow their true personalities to come through. So everybody wastes the first 4 months or so of the adoption being polite and no real bonding can take place. But that hasn't been the case with these two.

I believe the polite formalities ended for us on day 3 when I started teething and Mommy and Daddy were stuck in Colombia without medication or cable television. I think all of our true personalities came out that day. And we've been staying true to them ever since.

But since we are celebrating this very special ocassion, I wanted to use the opportunity to make a few observations and point out some of the good... the bad... and the uglier moments of these first 4 months.

Opposite Reactions To My Poop: Everytime Daddy changes my diaper when I poop he looks away and uses only his fingertips. Mommy examins it and checks to see that I'm doing okay. Daddy, on the other hand, acts like I just filled my diaper with smelly asbestos and uses close to 300 wet wipes per cleaning.

Best Improvised Meal. Daddy was at the mall with me one Saturday afternoon when he discovered that he had ingeniously forgotten to pack food in the diaper bag. I'm hungry and starting to get cranky and he knew that an attempt at a car trip back home for food would result in me puncturing Daddy's ear drums. So he ordered a chicken soup from Subway Sandwiches and then asked them for 10 packets of crackers. He then proceeded to dunk each cracker individually into the broth of the soup and then fed it into my toothless mouth. The crackers melted into my mouth... I ate 8 wet crackers... And then proceeded to pass out in the stroller for 2 hours. It is now a part of our meal rotation. We call it mushy chicken crackers.

My Latest Disgusting Hobby: Hand farting. It's very simple. Step 1: You pick me up. Step 2: I fart on your hands. Step 3: I giggle adorably turning you into jello and thus giving me full authority to repeat the process whenever desired.

My Best Day Ever! Mommy had a day off recently and we spent the whole day together running errands and doing chores. First we folded laundry at home. Actually, she folded while I wrestled with, and then slobbered on the laundry. Then we went to the mall where I played on a giant turtle and then we met Daddy for dinner at my favorite sushi restaurant where I ate miso soup and rice and cucumber salad. I went to sleep at 7 PM that night and slept till 8 the next morning. To this day Mommy and Daddy call that night: 13 hours of Bliss. I wonder what they were up to.

My Favorite Games. Daddy was 2 games that he inventes. The first one is called Timber. He holds me to his chest with his back to the bed and then he yells Tiiiiiiiimber! Then he falls back onto the bed while holding me in his arms. It's awesome! I always laugh. the other game is called Abra-Cadabra. That game is played by covering me completely with a towel and then yanking it off of me and screaming Abra-Cadabra! It makes me giggle... I don't know why. Mommy has 2 games also. The first is called Tititos which means kisses on the mountain in Puerto Rico where she's from. the other is called Que Lindo which means hugs. She also creates the best tummy farts in the business by slurping on my stomach. Daddy's games are fun... but Mommy's make me feel good.

Future Plans: Going to Texas for something called Thanksgiving where Daddy says we will eat a lot and watch football all day. Sounds like an ordinary Sunday to me, but whatever. Then I'm going to Puerto Rico for something called Christmas. Mommy says I'll get to ride with Abuelo Papo on his tractor and with Tio Andres on his horse. I don't know what the deal is with this Christmas thing but the trip to the island sounds like a lot of fun. Mommy and Daddy can't decide what to do about something called New Years but I'll let you know as soon as I know.

4 Month Grades: I give them a A-. Attitude and tone is always positive. There's a No Spanking Rule in the house that I haven't even come close to needing yet, although Daddy says that, chances are, we're going to be re-visiting that rule when I turn 2. They're good parents... but truth be told, I'm a great kid. I sleep through the night, eat like a horse and love my bath time. Sure I have my moments, but what 15 month old doesn't? I need to see more from them during times of adversity before I give them a solid A. I've only thrown a couple of easy curve balls at 'em. A cold... A helmet... A couple of crooked teeth. I'm about to start walking and talking. I'm just getting warmed up. The best is yet to come. We'll see what's what in the next 4 months.

Stay tuned sports fans.

Esteban Joel, Boy Astronaut engages in battle with the Kissy Face Monster and allows himself to be devoured in kisses for the good of the cause.

Take a look at my profile.... I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart.

A young Al Pacino, right?

I think I can...

I think I can...

I think I can!!!!

I knew I could.

My Spidey Sense is tingling. Warning me of something...

Well, well, well... what do we have here?

Woah, woah, woah. Where are you going? Don't you want to know about the helmet? It's because I'm a test pilot for NASA....

No? Nothing?

Go on! Who needs you! I already have a girl... and she has her own car!

What? My goodness, no I do not have a permit to climb these stairs, officer. I didn't know you needed a permit. You're going to have to fine me? Okay. I'm not really sure what a fine is yet but... Wait, that's not a Park Ranger... that's Daddy. Wait... that's not a walkie-talkie, it's a slice of pizza.