overwhelmed.

we've been looking to move for awhile. the water situation, the neighbor's association, crazy neighbors... it takes its toll after awhile.

but we've got this problem where i work from home and amalio works half way across the city. and if we move further from his work his head might spin around and around until it explodes during rush hour one day. and if we move too far away from where we are now, i lose my work - and my income.

we pay an incredibly small rent on our apartment - only 500 pesos more than when we moved in four years ago. it's unheard of. and i guess we should have figured it wouldn't last forever.

the owners of our apartment came today to tell us they'd like their apartment back. they're not sure if they're going to sell or if they're going to move their two spinster sisters in, but the point is, we need to kick it into gear and find a place that is suitable for both of us.

i'm really not all that picky - it needs to be a safe neighborhood, preferably fairly close to where we are now, with good (comparably) water service and electricity. i'd like a house, or an apartment in a duplex with a little backyard, but apartments don't bother me if they have a balcony. oh, and we can't pay too much more than what we're already paying, especially since who knows what will happen with my students depending on where we move.

all of this with the expense of the busted up rav-4, our babysitter's brother passing away and the kids being a little under the weather has me on edge. hopefully we'll find a place soon to take that weight off our shoulders!

my poor baby.

my grandmom's favorite horror story to tell me was how she once found one of her children in the crib. covered. in. poop. i don't know how true it is, but it is a pretty horrible thought. poop. poop in the bed. on the walls. on the child.


i had samil in cloth diapers and those are a little hard for a baby to unhook. and a few times in disposables, he got it off. lucky me. they were empty. i figured i was safe when he was potty trained before he was even two.

don't get me wrong.
we
do have accidents.

and it started. an accident at the park. a poop accident. put the kids in the car and headed home. it's been so long since an "oops" that i didn't even have a change of clothes. about midnight i hear mamiiiiiii, peeeeee! oh, but it wasn't pee. it was poop. wash him up, put him back to bed. stupid me.

i forgot the underpants.
i was t.i.r.e.d and just wanted to get back to sleep.

kids sleep until 8:30. hm. odd. when they wake up, my neice, who was spending the weekend with us, tells me that samil pooped his bed. i think she means last night.

nope.

my grandmom's favorite story. and i'm so sad she's not around to laugh at me. because there was poop e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e. on the mosquito net. on the sheets. on the wall. on samil. on the pillow. on the sock puppet he got for christmas (sorry uncle dan!)

he's been in pull ups since. and he's since missed the toilet every.single.time. i've gotta get to the pharmacy and get a parasite killer since it's been 6 months since his last "deparasitation".

poor kid. poor mom?

i'm a little piece of tin.

driving in the dominican republic is NOTHING like driving in the states. there are pot holes. there are dirt roads. there are traffic lights you obey, and traffic lights that turn off during the habitual brown-outs. there are motor bikes, scooters and bikers. there are men pedaling their wares - literally, pedaling on a bike, pushing a cart. there are buses, there are horses, donkeys, sometimes cows.

and there are these mean little things called "concho cars." "publicos". it's the dominican version of public transit. the ugliest, grossest, most beat up hoopty you can find. they slap on a route sticker and ta-da. transportation for the masses. income for the drivers.

and because they are the ghetto-est cars you can find, they defy all of the very few traffic laws that actually exist here. they turn right from the left lane and left from the right lane. they scream through red lights and slam on their breaks right in front of you to pick up passengers.

and the passengers.
four in the backseat, three in the front. and sometimes, sometimes if it's raining and the driver feels for you standing on the road, four in the front seat.

i've been scared of these cars since i started driving here. i give them the right of way even when they don't deserve it. because they don't care if you hit them. their shit is already messed up!

and let me say. i ran the stop sign. i admit it.

i ran that stop sign and ran right into the damn concho. because even though i was going 15 miles per hour and could stop. he couldn't. because in a commercial/residential area in the center of the city, he was going 50 miles per hour.

i called amalio, pulled up, checked on the kids and waited. the guy was nice enough. but i should have known there was something shady when they kept suggesting we just "settle this between ourselves and not involve the cops".

you know, because when we finally decided to go to the police station buddy had no insurance and no drivers liscence. a public transportation DRIVER people. welcome to the dominican republic. completely illegal. i can only imagine what would have happened if anyone was hurt in our little accident.

no worries. i don't have to pay for the damage i did to his car. and he'll be off the road for as long as it takes for him to get some insurance and a liscence. how do i know?

they impounded his car before we left!

true or twisted love.

let me be sincere.

i devoured the twilight books. their low reading level and easy to follow plot made it a perfect fast read. not to mention, it's an intriguing story.

but.

i don't get it.

sparkly vampires? a personality-less girl next door? rainy, wet town? fast cars? werewolves? really? this is what we find interesting? i mean, i guess it is. i was fascinated.

but had this book come out ten years from now when amely is 11, she wouldn't read it. why would i allow her to read something that promotes most of what we are trying to discourage in romantic relationships.

am i the only one who thinks it's strange that edward is always watching bella? like even when she's not aware of it? or that he controls everything she does - drives her to school, makes plans for her future, decides who she can and can not be friends with.

and, well, bella. what does she have that makes her so damn appealing? she's cute. she's the new girl in town. and, apparently, she smells good. but she has no personality. does whatever edward says. lies to her parents. sneaks out at night.

i'm sure i'm the only person in the world. at least the only female. who doesn't get it. the phenomenon is c.r.a.z.y.

i'm sure something crazier will come out by the time i have to deal with a tweenager in angst over some silly boy. at least i've got ten years to figure out what to do about it.

bilingual baby.

we've been a little bit concerned about samil's speech. i mean, it's nothing serious, just some normal parental paranoia. but. the poor kid is exposed to so many languages it makes us wonder what the boy is going to do when he gets to school and it's spanish all.the.time.

and it's pretty obnoxious when other parents ask about samil's hilarious speech patterns. and because we're in a developing nation with poor education i shouldn't be surprised when people ask if his babble is english. or my favorite comment. mira, el ni tiene que tomar clases para aprender ingles. wow, he doesn't even have to take classes to learn english.

the important part, though, is that he is able to communicate. he's learned the dominican lip pointing. you know. instead of pointing with your finger, aim your mouth in the direction of what you want and move your lips outward. and he's learned to tell people to "c'mere" with his hand. he high fives, and fist bumps. and more impressively knows who needs a hand shake and who gets a pound.

he's got a few, select words. the important ones. and knows how to use them well.

this morning after eating a bowl of cheerios and two cookies, decided to try his hand and getting another cookie. first to mommy.

"mamiiiiiiiiii. cook-cook"
"no samil, you already had two cookies."
"maaaaaaaaaaaa. cwacka"
"no samil you just ate cereal, you don't need anything else."
and when all else fails, just so he can win the game:
"mamiiiiiiiiiii. wa-wa"
to the fridge to get some water and samil says to papi.

"papiiiiiiiiii. dulce"
"no samil, no hay mas 'cook-cook'"
"paaaaaaaaaaa. galleta"
"no samil, ya comiste cornflakes."
thinks for a second. "ooooooooooooo"

two truths and a surprise.

1. only 4% of dominican women exclusively breastfeed - and that numbers drops a bit after the first month or two of life. it's a bizarre thing to me, but hey.

2. the dominican republic has a long, often violent, strained political relationship with haiti. and now, with crazy migration of the haitian people onto dominican territory, the hatred and racism has blown up.

surprise.

there is a group of women in the border town of jimani, a group of dominican women, breastfeeding haitian orphans. a group of monetarily poor women who, for reasons inexplicable, wouldn't normally breastfeed their own children past one month have taken these babies who will grow up into people many dominicans despise and are giving them the life sustaining milk from their breasts.

i don't know what this means for the future. history is a hard thing to escape. but i do know that right now, in this moment, people have forgotten that they dislike each other. that people are taking their jobs. that immigration is hurting the economy.

and they are feeding each other. and loving each other. and living in solidarity.

disaster really does bring out the best in people.

la esperanza.

there is so much swirling around in my head.

in the past week, i experienced my first earthquake. have had my mind changed about the interests of dominican people. hosted a trip from my brother. bought $230 USD of food for relief work. looked for my housekeeper who, i now know, continues to look for family.

on top of that, amely is on a sleep strike. samil is waking up at night. and i'm back full swing in classes. and this weekend we have plans to pick up a neice to spend the "fun" weekend with us.

i'm exhausted.

but i can not imagine the exhaustion of those in haiti - haitian and foreign, victims and relievers. the seemingly inexhaustable help that has arisen in santiago - and the dominican republic as a whole blows my mind.

haiti has always had a special place in my heart. from the cute soccer player in high school to the visits before my kids were born. it's a land of poverty, of destitution. of sadness. but also filled with people who would give their lives for you, people who would give you their last grain of rice to make you feel at home.

there are a lot of haitians in the DR. working the same menial jobs that immigrants all throughout the world work. trying to make a better life for those they left behind.

my hope, mi esperanza, is that this relief doesn't just wear out. that seeing haiti doesn't get old. that when the capitol is rebuilt, it's rebuilt to sustain a government that functions, functionaries who work for the people and not for their wallets. that the UN and the NGOs step up their game and start giving hands up instead of hand outs.

and i hope that the dominican people continue to shine. to show that they are not selfish, egoist, racists as they've too often been in the past. that we continue to see those stories of dominicans and haitians working together with mutual respect and hope.

for the future.