Things that make you go hmmmmmm.

Oh yes, I went there and likely dated myself severely. But really this is just another one of those random bits of info that never leave my brain. Before you consider it a positive, remember that in order for me to retain all this useless random information it comes at a cost of retaining important information like where I left my keys or the fact that the dogs need to be let out.



A while back when I had but just a wee baby with tiny little feet that wore (and kicked off) tiny little socks, picking them out of the laundry was not a big deal. His lilliputian garments stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of Mr. Maricucu's and my clothing. At that time I read a tip in some magazine from a mom of several boys. She mentioned using a sharpie drawn dot on the boys' socks to differentiate which belonged to what boy. She started off with one dot for the oldest and as socks made their way down the line of hand me downs she would add another dot for the next child that corresponded to their birth order. Handy for sorting laundry and handy for kid identification. Hmmmm, I thought but then filed it away under tips I likely would never need.

Fast forward to the current day and I find my growing children are outgrowing stuff at a faster clip than before. Also, with different brands fitting more snug or loose than others, their white undershirts had become a minefield of various sizes just for one boy. Then I remembered the tip and brought out the sharpie. One dot each for their birth order and presto, the shirts were easily identified by Mr. Maricucu and the boys. I even did the little girl shirts too although no one would mistake the lacey camisole in 2T for something that would fit anyone else in this household, at least for the next couple of weeks. Then, since I was on a roll and Hanes/Fruit of the Loom insist on labeling their underwear in microtype that wears off the first wash, I took the sharpie to their boxer briefs too. Just another thing to tick off the nonexistant list. I can rest easy now that my 6 year old will no longer come out sporting his 4 year old brother's undershirt like a belly dancer nor the four year old hand holding his brother's boxers around his waist asking me what I did to the laundry.

Airing our dirty drawers.

Or more accurately, the worn out diapers. A couple of weeks ago I received a new shipment of prefolds in the mail. The last batch we purchased were now very well worn and with a new baby on the way I figured it was time for a new set. See, I bought my last batch of prefolds more than 4 years ago. They were used as cloth post partum pads after I had my second child. Their main function was as nighttime doublers (to increase absorption) and were used for two kids simultaneously while being washed in heavy duty cycles every other day. Then my third child came along and the prefolds had another stint in the post partum cloth department while continuing to be used as doublers for two children and again being washed every other day.




That's a lot of wear and tear people, but these things are amazing. Since prefolds are simple, multilayered flat diapers there's no elastic to give out, no waterproof layer to wear out, no velcro to stop sticking. It's all absorbent cotton that as long as it's still absorbing works well even when it's ugly. How ugly? Let's take a look. I'll ease you into the ugly slowly. Here are the new prefolds. These are indian prefolds and all sizes are the infant sizes.




Notice the smooth, even weave and the lovely puckering. If you've never ordered a prefold diaper before they arrive larger and smooth. Then you wash them on a couple of hot cycles to remove any sizing and waxes to end up with a shrunken, puckered up, quilted looking prefold that feels amazingly soft. Which is why I will unashamedly say they work amazing as post partum cloth pads. So soft that the day that men decide to wear plastic underwear is the day I might reconsider cloth pads. Even then I likely won't. But that's a rant for another day.




Here is a prefold from my used batch. This one is the "medium" worn example since it's still pretty much intact and just slightly worn in a few spots.




These prefolds have four layers on the outer thirds and then 8 layers down the center so even when one of the outer layers wears out they are perfectly fine and still absorbent.




Now here's the down and out prefold. The one that's a testament to how much wear you can squeeze out of a diaper.




Yes it is that ratty looking in real life. Luckily, since I just fold them in thirds and stick them in an all in one diaper all I care is that the prefold is still absorbent. So yes, these were still being used. Despite the many holes, worn out patches and lifted up fabric layers, they worked like a charm. Not bad for something that cost at the time like $1-$2.




Now I just need to find a last resting place for the used prefolds. Any ideas? If all else fails I might just slice them up and use them to augment the stuffing in the kids' beanbag.

Slight deviation of plans.

We interrupt the regularly scheduled post to ramble.

I've posted before about my love for tangy lemon bars. It's quite an unhealthy obsession but I fully own it. A couple of weeks ago I replenished my stash of grapefruit to satisfy my other obsession but this time instead of picking out individual ruby reds I opted for a large 5lb bag. Big mistake. The bagged grapefruit were bitter as all get out. I love sour and I love tangy but even I couldn't eat the quite bitter ones straight. So they sat on my counter until I juiced them all yesterday. I gave the kids some of the juice straight since sick child is just now feeling better and blessedly his siblings did not catch it. The rest I used in my lemon bar recipe along with the zest for some grapefruit bars.




Now my mistake was forgetting the tang of lemons is much more pronounced even against a bitter grapefruit so these were a bit too sweet for my taste. Next time I'll cut back the sugar but this time I took a lemon from the fridge and squeezed the juice over the bars while still warm. Much better. Oh and look who's becoming a fabric connoisseur. She reorganized my scraps and made sure to smooth her hands across every.single.piece.

Oh those cravings again.

This week I gave into a visual craving. I saw this huge bunch of flowers at the grocery store and just had to have them. It probably didn't help that the 4 year old was egging me on each time we passed the wrapped cellophane bunches. The baby keeps trying to yank them and knock them over but thankfully these are a pretty sturdy variety.




Of course I've had food cravings too and for the first time in a couple of weeks this one didn't involve sugar. Nope, just plantains mashed up into a Dominican mangu, topped with sauteed oil & vinegar onions and a couple of fried eggs. Mr. Maricucu grew up on grits, gravy and biscuits but I grew up on mangu with a variety of accompaniments.




What you'll get next to a serving of mangu is at the very least some fried eggs but if your mom is a true Dominican you'll get some queso frito (a squeaky, large curd farmer's cheese that is dusted in flour and fried), fried Dominican salami (good if you like it but a no-no in my home) and a hunk of some type of hoop cheese. Topping that pile of mangu are sauteed onions in olive oil that have been hit with a bit of vinegar as well.

The only problem with these types of cravings is that if you live far away from your mom you have to make them yourself. Small sacrifice, I say.

It's like clockwork.

Last week we received some more of this:






So I made some of these (recipe to come this week):



I've seen more snow this winter than we've had in all the 10 years of living in North Carolina. Apparently we're getting some more this week and I'll admit to being a wimp. I don't think that even with the addition of snow tires, snow plows, blowers and heavy duty coats I would ever be inspired to take out my crew on a daily basis anywhere in winter. That's why we wimps end up in the pseudo north I guess. Somebody tell my father in law he needs to come down from Buffalo and take his snow back home.

This is my brain with no caffeine.

All over the place much like my active daughter.









My ADD is beginning to pull my blog posting schedule a little to the non-daily side. Hang in there while I figure out new ways to cope that don't include coca cola. That or I might have to take up coffee. We'll see.

Comments.

Just wanted to apologize if you've had a comment that has not received a reply. I reply to all my comments sometimes in the comments section and other times individually to the commenter. For some reason Blogger has tweaked the individual reply function and people who were originally receiving replies directly from me just fine, suddenly didn't get them.

I felt awful when I realized that several responses had not made it to the original commenter. I think I've taken care of all of them now but just in case you might have asked me something and not received a response, please realize it was not intentional. Even when comments are simple statements I like to acknowledge them as I love hosting the visitors to this blog just as if you were a guest in my own home.

So have you ever taken one of those Myers-Briggs personality tests?

I used to see those 4 letter combos thrown all over the place and my eyes would glaze over while I quickly jumped paragraphs. It's not that I found them boring but my ADD prevented me from sitting down long enough to take the inventory myself and really until I do something, it makes no sense to me. I find that applies to a lot in my life. Want me to "get" something? Forcefully shove my hands in elbow deep then wait for me to process. Then stand back because I'm a talker and I process verbally.

So, about that test. I took it and voila - I'm an ESFP.




Okay so that doesn't help much does it? I did find the personality description hysterical. This more detailed description of ESFPs helped a bit more. While I straddle the line on some indicators I definitely am a story teller, and talk (write as well) in what may seem an unfocused manner but I'm covering territory. I'm also an avid talker.

Almost every ESFP loves to talk. Some can be identified by the twenty minute conversation required to ask or answer a simple factual question.
from http://typelogic.com/esfp.html

If you've ever had the pleasure of speaking with me you'll know the above is true. I can't help it and what certainly doesn't help my case of "super talker" is my ability to catalog random bits of information excessively but ask me where my purse is currently located and I'll have to think about it. Want to know the kicker? Mr. Maricucu hasn't taken this test but he is most definitely an introvert. Feelings? What are those? Perception? Too vague. Give him concrete, give him clear, give it to him in as few words as possible and then give him space. The poor man. *giggle*

Tomorrow, I promise I come bearing whoopie pies. (or at least a recipe)

Money definitely cannot buy everything.

What I can buy:

1. A flouncy skirt.
2. A manta (wrap).
3. A fancy hair comb.
4. A fan even (heck I think I still have some laying around from our wedding reception somewhere).
5. Castaňuelas


What I cannot buy:

1. Talent. Talent does not discriminate by age. Check out girlfriend in the second half of the video.
2. Rhythm. See #1. I know I've harped on it before but I can feel it, my body just does not cooperate in expressing it.
3. Awareness of my body and where it moves. Flamenco dancers can whip mantas with enough fringe to blind the singer behind them, stomp shoes with heels lethal enough to take out teeth in the front row and kick around flounced trains that might choke the guitarist. But they don't. Can't say the same for moi.

When I was around 8-9ish my uncle gifted my sister and I a pair of castaňuelas (castanets). Sis and I would stomp around, clacking those things and just about knocking each other's teeth out in the process. Now that I think of it, I'm sure my parents just loved that gift. However, I just can't shake the feeling that my desire to produce something even similar to the video above would result in the video below. (tip: You may want to swallow what you're drinking before watching).

Flamenco #2 from Linx on Vimeo.

It's like some interpretive dance gone wrong, very wrong. I fear for the dance teacher as she looks like she's being rushed by a herd of stomping cows.

Please pray and please help.

I don't like to use this little niche of mine as some kind of platform for social issues. Please don't think that's going to change. I'm also not going to assault you with current events and news since I take those in little bites myself, digesting as much as I can tolerate emotionally and praying for those that I can't digest but know still go on.

However, I know by now you've heard of the earthquake in Haiti. Being Dominican, I have family on that island shared by Dominicans and Haitians alike. Thankfully not much happened in Dominican Republic and from what I've heard my family seems to be okay. In Haiti there is much more sorrow, much more work to be done by those who were already there, doing, blessing and working even before this earthquake. If you'd like to help in any way, please do (that link lists several organizations that were already doing a great work in Haiti). Even if you cannot help at this moment, please pray for those are helping as well as those who are needing help.

My lap tonight.

A lap empty of little kids quickly fills up in the evening with some handstitching. Other nights it's just me, the evening news and the laptop. This is my regeneration moment, a a peaceful respite to read, veg out or putz around in the sewing room.

When is your moment of rest?

What I'm reading now.

Or - how I'm putting off the to do list again.



About three years ago I complimented a very good friend's photographs. She recommended the book How To Photograph Your Baby by Nick Kelsh. Super simple, five principles to have you taking better pictures in minutes. I checked it out from our library and talk about a difference! Since picking up the dSLR last May I've been meaning to read Understanding Exposure but that kept getting bumped lower in priority. No more. One final glowing recommendation had this puppy in my hands last week. Can't wait to start applying what I'm reading.

Our rip-roarin' plans.

I grew up having very loud, very large New Year's Eve parties with our extended family. However, once Mr. Maricucu and I were married we immediately moved about 900 miles away from family and had to come up with our own traditions. Since Thanksgiving and Christmas take about all the cooking mojo out of us, by New Year's Eve we're crawling to the finish line on that last drop of gas.




Our super exciting plans include stocking the freezer with all those forbidden little morsels of fat+flour found at Costco or BJ's. We make a meal of heavy hors d'oeuvres, nosh on fruit and then a little heavenly bite of something sweet. Now with kids we break out the sparkling cider at dinnertime to let them celebrate as well. After the kids are in bed it's a race - to see who can make it to midnight without falling asleep on the couch. Whooo boy we are super cool. But hey, it works for us. It likely doesn't help that tragedy struck our family on New Year's Eve 7 years ago with some genius who decided to drive after a few too many.




Praying that 2010 is a blessed year for your family. That it bring you health, joy and peace.

Merry Christmas and Feliz Navidad.

Wishing you and your family a peaceful and loving Christmas wherever you may be. Being Latins our big to do is on Christmas Eve so right about now I'm recovering from a huge meal while resting on the couch. Hoping that your night tonight or tomorrow is as uneventful as mine.

We finally put the tree up.

Yes, last weekend was about as long as we could put up with the questions of when the tree would finally go up. Mr. Maricucu's task involves hauling the 7ft. tree down from our overhead garage storage, down the ladder and then finally in the house via the narrow kitchen doorway. Then he hauls down the miscellaneous ornament and nativity boxes. He graciously snapped the tree together and plugged it in, putting the boys in a state of awe.








This year I didn't bother to fluff the tree, the kids couldn't wait to hang their ornaments. Which was our dilemma. Low enough for the boys to reach on their step stools yet high enough to be out of reach for the baby. That meant only the upper third of our tree is decorated and the star is crooked to boot. Don't ask someone who is sitting down sideways, "is the star straight?". But they love and I love it and we plug it in first thing in the morning.

Because even blogs need Thanksgiving leftovers.

Mr. Maricucu and I sat around our dinner table and looked at each other knowingly. I remember several years ago looking around the empty seats at our dining table and exclaiming to him that it was hard to imagine a table full of family - our family, our children. Yet today we sat down with only one seat empty. Three blessings surrounded us, entertained us and their handmade decorations graced our table.




Both older boys were thankful for family, for our time together and let's just say that this momma definitely had to choke back a few tears.




Of course they were able to indulge in a little kiddie booze - nonalcoholic sparkling cider. Around here it's the holiday drink of choice. They love it.




All the cooking and prepping was appreciated by all. Nothing makes you feel appreciated like a family recognizing your efforts at making a holiday comfortable, enjoyable and relaxing.




Of course, I couldn't help snapping a quick picture of my plate. Yes, by about 1pm we were all in a tryptophan induced coma. Yes, we had round two for dinner and for the first time ever nary a complaint about eating leftovers. May the leftovers of love, gratitude and family spill over in your home too.

Gratitude.

Today I'm thankful for my faith, my family and my friends. Thankful that those three make everything else a non-essential. I pray for those going through difficult times right now and hope that the overwhelming spirit of sharing with our brothers carries us through this season and throughout the next year. May our eyes see the need around us, the humanity in that need and feel the tug to do whatever may be within our reach.

Sand Art

I'm just in awe of the speed in her hands and the sureness in her movement. I love the transitions between pieces and believe me that slinging around sand, this is not. With my penchant for wanting my own crafts to last forever, I'd be one very neurotic artist with such a medium. Enjoy!

The mind of a little boy

Sniff, could it be possible? After so many dreams of having random acts of song and dance happen in front of my eyes, that my own children will make the dream happen? Apparently you don't need a reason to break out in song while, say, riding your bike in the backyard. All you need is a drum beat and a *shudder* branch posing as a wind instrument. Bike helmets totally optional but do give that je ne sais quoi don't you think?




And I do promise that we'll get back to doing and cooking around here soon. Starting with this gooey answer to having cinnamon rolls without having to knead dough.

A little Spanish and a little fabric.

A pomegranate I ate last week. My mom would relish in buying these when I was a kid and I never understood the allure - until now. Tart, tangy, juicy and messy they are delicious. The boys tasted as well and only the older one found it an interesting taste. In Spanish these are called granada (grrrah-nah-dah), like the city in Spain.




Which is why I can't help but break out in mental Placido Domingo whenever I think of a pomegranate. Sort of like food and culture word association.




On the fabric front I had a very exciting date last night with my fabric cutter. Yes, I'm easy to please. These cute novelty fabrics are all cut up and ready to go to a very generous swap host.




In return I'll receive 100 unique squares to use as I please but the purpose is some type of I Spy project. We'll see.