Praha! (oops- this should have posted 2 days ago)

So we did have to go the "first a little mongo" or a lot of it for that matter, but we are here. In a nice hotel that left us a chocolate cake to honor our anniversary. I just ate most of it. It was dark when we got here even though it was only 4pm (but 20 hours after we left). Let me backtrack to when we landed in Brussels (while F showers). We strong armed our way to get off first and an airport rep told us to go to Gate A43. We were in the B terminal and had seen on the map that it was right next door. It was about 9:30am and the last flight that would not fuck our day left at that same time. We ran like mofos thinking it might be delayed. A43 was our mantra and we covered no less than a mile on people movers, stairs and elevators. Well there was a flight that had just left for Stockholm and two Swedish unfriendly employees there who had not idea what we were talking about. We had to go all the way back to B (this included immigration and security again) where we meandered until we found the Indian airline desk (where we should have been directed to initially). Bad news was the next flight was at 1pm and on Lufthansa (puke) but the good news is that we went to the lounge (from F's glory days of traveling status) and ate and drank and listened to SERIAL (free podcast I recommend). We flew to Munich and learned some interesting facts. GIFTE means poison in German and I could not help feeling that they were going to do that to me. Free newspapers and coffee everywhere (how quaint) as well as lovely Camel huts for smokers with cool colorful camels and death warnings painted on them. Interesante. In Munich we lounged some more. They did not have the napboxes (a private sleeping room) that Brussels did but there was beer and pork stuff that we did not consume. More SERIAL and more of my persecution complex as I remembered that this airport was the finale site for the slaying of Israeli athletes in the 1978 Olympics. My racism aside, we enjoyed this airport tour as much as possible and finally made it to PRAHA. Yippee! We are off for an evening walk and dinner. Tomorrow is THE day to enjoy here as we leave at the crack o dawn on Saturday. To our adventure! Thank you F!

Prague! Finally! (Or Maybe Later)

So, here we are. Not in Prague. When F surprised me with this trip last month for our anniversary I was elated. We had been meaning to and actually tried to go to Prague since before the dawn of time (aka becoming parents). As the day of our departure approached and the several bags were packed (not ours but our kids' stuff to schlep to abuela's), it seemed that maybe nature would intervene again. While we reveled in tshirts and sun on Monday (68 degrees!) there was a storm (rain and snow) forecast for Wednesday. Wednesday morning came. I slipped on some threadbare leggings so as not to greet the Fresh Direct man in my underwear. I add this detail because it is Thursday morning, I am in Munich, and I am still wearing the leggings. I am a schlepper as my mother told me aghast that my "purse" is a "tote bag" and what is wrong with me. Nothing, but I did forget that I was in home attire when I slipped on my rain boots and headed off to school with luggage to attend our beloved food chain tradition. In the rain. Fast forward to Wednesday afternoon. L has brought the littles up to abuela's and I have secured the bigs and F and the bags and we are ready to go. Subway to NJ transit train to air train to Jet airways flight. That is 99% Indian passengers and 100% delayed. For no reason. Bullshit because lesser "ethnic" airlines have less pull in the line up. They said weather, then a malfunction. Then we realized that there was no way we would make our connection in Brussels (that is right, Belgium, not Germany, which I avoid and abhor and from where I sit). After futzing about for hours we thought of calling EXPEDIA to cancel or reroute it all. So much travel for just a day in Prague. Insane. F called 5 TIMES. As soon as he would lay out the problem the line would cut out and he would have to start over as the flight began to finally board. It was nerve wrecking and even though F bought insurance we were not sure that it would hold given that we had already checked in. So we got on the plane, just in case. We were near the bulkhead (yay!) but also near not one, but 4 one year olds. I shit you not that one of these babies made a distressed "eh eh" sound for 85 % of the trip. 10% she cried desperately and for 5-10 minutes she slept. Her parents seemed like idiots to me. They continued to dangle plastic forks and other random items in her face but never offered her water or milk or food or a chupete- her ears were most likely bothering her. I was tempted to take over the get the baby to calm down operation but decided to not offer unsolicited advice (which I detest) and I focused on not choking on the liters of perfume that the woman on my right wore. Suffice it to say it was a loud and smelly flight. When dinner came at 10:30pm, the stewardess was very upset that I did not want it. She was like a Jewish (but I guess Indian) grandma foisting food onto me and I just wanted some shut eye on F's shoulder. Wait. I need to go catch my third flight. To learn more about that, check back later. I just may be in Prague when I next write.

Batch o' Banter

When I was frustrated with J about piano practice: I am sorry, I am just a kid.

During a conversation at the pediatrician, she looked at me and asked: How old were you when you got your period?
M: I have not gotten it yet.

V likes to rub his ears, chin, or nose with F's as a goodbye. Yesterday morning: How about a tongue kiss?

When I asked V where my baby went, matter of fact while he played: I am done. I grew. I can walk now. I am not a baby.

I told V that we were going to Philly but that it was a surprise (mistake to think he could keep that). When he blurted out to MoJo that we were going I told him we were not. V: You tricked me?
When we got to Philly he asked me: You tricked me two times?

I love that they are all so little that even as we pulled up to tía C's house in Philly they still believed my cover story of where we were going. When V got out of the car he started tiptoeing, like a cartoon with this finger by his lips... up the wrong porch steps!

J declared that he was marrying both dogs in Philly: So I am half gay and half married now (one dog is female and one male). He also told me that he touched tongues with Buster but that it was okay because they were married (YUCK).

V looking at a picture of M as a toddler: Where was I? CaliFONia?

he says: BROKElyn, baseMANT, REmont and CaliFONia. I love these more than the original words- will never correct him!

More

J:  I just want a good family.
Me: That is nice.
J: I like you two but I do not like the way you act.

V in his pjs that say "Santa's helper": Can I be Santa's helper for real?

V to A playing in a box: You drive and I will sit in the mommy seat.
Me: What?
V: I mean the passenger seat. (boom!)

V after I gave him a bagel I had said was special: This is not a seriously magical bagel. You said special!

Crazy Quartet

When I explained to V that he would be going to the circus and that there would be "payasos" (clowns): You mean idiots?

M when she was inquiring about alcohol fetal syndrome (it was in a book she was reading). She asked if it was bad for the mom. I said, well you should not be getting drunk if you are pregnant to which she replied: If you are pregnant you might want to get drunk to forget things.
Me: Like what?
M: Like that you are pregnant!

A on a babysitter that was bringing J home: I like that guy, I am not going to hit him or slap him. I am nice. V is not!

J ran upstairs when he got home. Me: What are you doing?
J: I have errands to do.

Me to A (or V?): Your beauty is soft!
One of them (I think V): My beauty is when I take my pants off!

V to J: When you and M were babies, you were twins like us!
A to J: When are you guys (M and J) going to be babies?

V to me: Why do you love (tío) G and papi? They are not aunts.
Me: Why do you?
V: I don't!

Me to A: This dress is great!
A: This dress is ridiculous!

When talking about his party name, V: It is not Jack anymore. It is Jackmin.
Me: Jackmin.
V: Yeah. No, Jackmint!

A (I think): I am mean but I am also nice.

Me to M: Did you have a nice birthday?
M: Yes! Did you? I wanted everyone to have a good day on my birthday.
(we did).

10!!

It is hard to believe that you are a DECADE old today. Double digits baby. Though you will never know how much I love you until you become a mother yourself, you will have to trust me. You are so big but thankfully still little. May your new year be full of beautiful things. Enjoy it all. I will be right here watching you continue to be the wonderful M we all adore. TQMYTAPFCMC.

Jack, My Other Kid

Today at a gymnastics party I noticed one of the instructors calling V, "Jack." I thought it was a weird derivative of his name until I watched him go to the next station (bars) where he chipperly told another instructor his Jack moniker. When I asked him his name later he confirmed V. When I asked him what Jack was he nonchalantly quipped "my fake name."

M when we saw a bunch of runners coming toward us on the sidewalk: They missed the marathon.

J on the djembe drum he hopes to get: I am going to take it to Miami where all my dream house things are.
M: Like what?
J: My basketball. The beach. The cool music sticks abuelo R has.

When I asked V if he knew why I yelled at him for running into a ghettolicious liquor sore.
Me: It is a liquor store. For grown ups.
V: Licorice store? Where they sell beard!

A to F last week re the marathon: Did you win?

A to a jazz quartet when they called on her to share what instrument she played. Confidently: The recorder.

Thursday Words

V as he asked that I take his shoes off but leave his socks on (one of ocd's): Mamá, you know the  rules of me!

When I told V he was my best little boy, he said: And A is your best beauty!

V to F: My culito is mamá's but you can have my penis.
F: (awkward) OK
V: But my penis has poison in it!


Me to V: I would love it if you could stop talking for a minute.
V: I would love it if you weren't my mother.

M to me: Can we run in the marathon with papi?
Me: Yes, just a little.
M: I only want to do the NYC part.

M: I miss our insurance from when papi was at Delonghi?
Me: Why?
M: So we could go to that cool lounge at the airport.
Me: That has nothing to do with insurance!