My Big Fat Cuban Family: A Cuban-American Blog

The Great Christmas Card Challenge of 2011

I love the tradition of exchanging Christmas cards. I don't know if my parents ever sent out Christmas greetings, but I remember being 18 years old and buying my first pack of Christmas cards. My family had just moved to Orange County from the Los Angeles area where I had left all of my old friends. 

It was 1973 and I was still regularly communicating with them via U.S. mail. So sending Christmas greetings seemed to be a very natural thing.

In 1976 my local one-hour photo booth started offering Photo Holiday Greetings. I jumped on that one immediately and have never missed a year. I, personally, love getting Photo Christmas cards. I love seeing friends change from year to year. I love watching their families grow and their kids change. I save each and every one in that year's Christmas album. 

This year, I was looking for a photo to use for our card. I take thousands of photos so that shouldn't be too difficult. Except for the fact that I wanted something with all 6 of us in it. And Adam lives somewhere at the top of California, 12 hours away. What to do?

I found a photo of all 6 of us from Lucy's graduation which I kind of adored. 

I was happy with how we all looked and I thought our personalities totally showed through and as you can see, we were all in it. But Lucy vetoed it because she has since cut her hair short and that photo was "sooo last year." (Technically, it was this year, and she's actually talking about the school year calendar, but that's not important right now.)

I also really love this one from when Adam came down to visit on Easter. How cute are we?

But again, Lucy and the short hair thing. I have no photos of the six of us together and Lucy's short hair. What to do?

I had to design my own, of course.

Hey, I'm Cuban. I'm all about "resolviendo.*"  (*that's the Cuban way to say "improvising.") 

Merry Christmas from the Darbys! 

Teaching Generosity?

As you know if you've been reading this blog for a while, we have homeschooled our kids. I often say that one of the reasons we have chosen to homeschool is that we're not as concerned about their academics as we are concerned about their character.

We have attempted to teach them kindness, thoughtfulness, hospitality, and generosity - high values for us - mostly by modeling them as best as we know how. Because, seriously, has anyone ever learned these kinds of things by being lectured?

During this time of year we love participating in Samaritan's Purse Operation Christmas Child in which we thoughtfully and lovingly fill up a shoe box with gifts for a child on the other side of the world. We pray for our small recipient as we do so. We look forward to this small act of charity every year.

We get to go and shop for little items to put into the shoeboxes. As we're shopping, we think about what would bring a child joy.

"These trucks, Mom. I would have liked them as an 8 year old. Very cool."

"Let's get this little doll with an extra outfit. I think she's very sweet."

"Crayons! Modeling clay! Watercolors! YES!"

Shoeboxes are collected at various churches all over the country and then packed and disbursed to different places to kids around the world. What's very cool about this is that we get to track our shoebox to see where it ends up

From the Samaritan's Purse Website:

National Collection Week: November 14 - 21

Use an empty shoe box (standard size, please) or a small plastic container. You can wrap the box (lid separately), but wrapping is not required. Most importantly, pray for the child who will receive your gift.

Determine whether your gift will be for a boy or a girl, and the child’s age category: 2-4, 5-9, or 10-14. Print out the appropriate boy/girl label by downloading the artwork to the right. Mark the correct age category on the label, and tape the label to the top of your box.

Fill the box with a variety of gifts that will bring delight to a child. 

Please donate $7 or more for each shoe box you prepare to help cover shipping and other project costs. You can give online by using our “Follow Your Box Donation” option, or you can write a check to Samaritan’s Purse (note “OCC” on memo line) and place it in an envelope on top of the gift items inside your box. If you or your family are preparing more than one shoe box, please make one combined donation.

Place a rubber band around each closed shoe box and drop off at the Collection Center nearest you during our collection week, November 14-21.

For locations and hours of collection visit our Drop-Off Locations page where you can find the nearest place to take your shoe box by entering your ZIP Code or you can call 1-800-353-5949.

You can also send your shoe box gift to:
Samaritan’s Purse
Operation Christmas Child
801 Bamboo Road
Boone, NC 28607

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Our kids have all grown up to be very generous people. I say this, not to brag but as a matter of record. Apparently the lessons were picked up somehow. My theory, then is correct. Character values are more "caught than taught."

Do you support any charities? Tell me.

{Disclaimer: Samaritan's Purse is a charity we believe in and support. I have not received any compensation from them to write this post. It's my privilege and pleasure to tell you about them.}

No "El Tri-co-tri" for you!

My mom calls.

"Van a ir al tri-co-tri?" She's asking if the kids are going out and Trick or Treating.

El Tri-co-tri. You have to say it phonetically, TREE-COH-TREE. It's what Trick or Treat sounds like with a Cuban accent. The "El" is just to make it grammatically correct. 

El Tri-co-tri. Noun. (Or verb?) The act of dressing up and begging for candy from your neighbors. (Must be a verb.)

No, I sigh. I think they're too old for El Tri-co-tri.

But I love the decorations and I love a good party. And one of them suggested a Nightmare Before Christmas Theme and then it kind of took on a life of its own.

I was in charge of food and decorations, because that's what I do best, but that's not important right now.

I decided to do it all in Tim-Burtony-inspired black and white.

I created the Nightmare Before Christmas silouettes as Photoshop Brushes and pasted them onto paper plates. I think they look very cool if you don't get too close.

I went to a local thrift store and grabbed some black picture frames which made me happy because I was feeling lazier than usual and didn't feel like painting them. (I know. Shut up.)

Then I made the Halloween Subway Art in Photoshop and just printed it out to fit the 8 x 10 frame.

And I messed with a photo of our black cat, Bastet. I really like the look in her eyes.

I painted some pumpkins with black acrylic paint, because again, I was too lazy to carve them. (Don't judge me.)

And voila! Insta-Halloween decorations! *takes bow* 

Here's Jonathan explaining what they decided to do instead of El Tri-co-tri.

It makes me happy to see them all dressed up and having fun.  

Sally and Jack Skellington:

Amy Kikita as a Golden Goddess. Here she is in her Divine Form:

The Mayor and the Corpse Bride:

Edward Scissorhands (pretty awesome, no?):

Lock, Shock, and Barrel:

Victoria (the live bride from the Corpse Bride):

Here they all are in all their black and white glory:

So, a good time was had by all, and even if they didn't get to go do "El Tri-co-tri..."

They did get to enjoy some fabulous Cuban food. ;-)

Japi Jalouin! Have fun with El Tri-co-tri!

 

The Circle of Life - Lion King 3D and Eternal Disney Uber-geeks

Back in 1994, I took Amy and Adam to the premiere of the Disney film, The Lion King at the El Capitan Theatre in Hollywood. This was obviously before Lucy and Jonathan were born. We all loved the film so much that we couldn't wait to own it when it was released on VHS. (Yes, this is waaay back in the day.)

A few years later, when we added two more little ones to our family, our love for The Lion King never diminished.

When my son, Jonathan, was very little, he loved watching Disney's The Lion King on our VHS player. He's almost 16 now and I imagine that like most of his generation, they grew up watching Simba grow from cub to king and knew every moment of the film and every song by heart.

In the first scene, when all the animals come to the presentation of Simba, Jonathan would stretch his arms out for someone (usually me - Wait! Would that then make me the monkey??) to pick him up and "present" him. He would usually signal his older siblings to bow down, and to my endless astonishment and to their everlasting credit, they always did.

We've also enjoyed watching the live musical production of The Lion King. Seriously, so much love for this movie and show.

Last week I had the opportunity to attend a preview screening of The Lion King 3D at the Walt Disney Studio Lot with my friend, Jana (The Summer House). 

We were wide-eyed and amazed and feeling sooo accidentally cool to be visiting the Walt Disney Studios. You can imagine what that was like for a Disney-uber-geek like myself. (Pinch me!) 

First of all, the film itself (even though I knew every line by heart) stands the test of time. It's completely as fresh and funny and poignant as it was so many years ago. The 3D effects make the scenes just that more thrilling (particularly the wildebeast stampede, but that's not important right now).

Having the privilege of seeing it at the Walt Disney Studios just gave me another thing to put a checkmark next to on my Bucket List. (I'll have to tell you all about it in great detail, but that's a post for another day.)

Do yourself a favor and GO. SEE. THIS. FILM. It's only in theaters for the next two weeks. In 3D, people! (Not the roller-coaster-stomach-churning 3D, the very cool-modern-the-characters-look-so-real 3D.)

Take your kids who were so little when it was released in theaters the first time, so they can enjoy the full effects. Encourage your teenagers and young adults to go see it again on the big screen so they can relive the magic. Seriously. You'll thank me.

As for Jonathan, who wants to one day be a film maker, well.....he just can't wait to be king. ;-)

Do you have some good memories of The Lion King? Please share. 

Back-to-(Home)School

Jonathan started his sophomore year of high school today.
The beauty of homeschooling is that we can "do school" anywhere that has WI-FI, amazing food....and tiny dinosaurs. ;-)

Happy First Day of School!

The Summer House

My friend, Jana blogs over at The Summer House. It's called the Summer House because she loves the simplicity of living in a summer beach rental-type atmosphere where everything is clean, decluttered, and ready for fun.

She lives out her philosophy of simple living beautifully. And I'm always impressed and inspired by her. 

Internets, meet Jana...

I, of course, am just the opposite. My house is messy and cluttery in an artistic-A.D.D.-hyper-collector sort of way.

In spite of those differences, we are great friends and we manage to carve out a couple of hours for coffee at least once a week throughout the year and a once-a-week beach day through the summer. 

Meanwhile, back at the Summer House......

I started this post telling you about Jana, because we rent a beach house for a long, relaxing week every summer. Because of her inspiration, we have taken to calling it The Summer House. (Don't sue me, please, my friend. Thanks.) 

The house itself is bright and airy, with a big kitchen and lots of couches for lounging and a big patio that's perfect for cookouts and surfboards or in our case drying beach towels.

Our Summer House is only about an hour's drive south from us, in San Diego county. A mere 238 steps to the beach. With the best sand imaginable for sand castle building.

Or expressing ourselves artistically. This is Art.... ;-)

Even though the house is pretty roomy, and we have space for lots of people to hang out, we don't have as many comfortable sleeping surfaces. So we invited friends to come and be with us and just scheduled their visits on different days.

It worked out quite nicely for the first few days, with friends popping in for a morning or afternoon.

And the sun cooperated on some days, but not on others.

Still it was relaxing and fun to just “be” with whoever was available for the day.

I loved the quiet moments in between visitors when I could just sit and read and watch my kids playing in the sand. (Much like I did when they were little. Go figure.)

The ocean was soothing and oh, so healing. And we all were so in need of a rest and the respite that comes from serious playing.

Or just doing nothing. We did a lot of nothing. As often as possible.

Some of our young friends came to celebrate Lucy's 18th birthday, which meant there were more mouths to feed.

For breakfast:

Lunch:

And dinner:

And I appreciate that all of her and Jon's friends are fun and easy to be with.

And are always ready to cooperate with me when I have a camera in my hand, which is most of the time, but that's not important right now. ("Quick, put on these disguises!")

Our time spent in the Summer House also reminds me of my childhood summers in Cuba, which were spent in Varadero, always with a houseful of friends and family. We would get to the beach as early as possible and put off eating because of the 3-Hour Rule (that's me on the right with the mop of uber-curly hair standing behind my trusty Duck Life-saver).

I hope my kids have the same happy memories that I do of the Limited Communal Summer Living Experience (LCSLE?).

It pleases me to think that they will indeed.

 

P.S. Thanks, Jana, for the Summer House inspiration. =D 

Amy has totally lost it.

My daughter, Amy Kikita has been working hard these past few months to lose weight. She has to date lost 30 pounds and the scale is still moving to the left every day.

I admire the courage it has taken her to face her own fears and presuppositions about what this will mean to her and her life.

Today on the Tiki Tiki, she shares her essay titled "The Fat Friend."

Please read. In fact, you should totally go hang out at the Tiki Tiki all week and enjoy this wonderful series on Body Image.

Way to go, Mimi!

Exact change.

I've homeschooled my kids for years now. Ever since Lucy and Jonathan were both in elementary school.

Last semester they both went to the Cooler-Than-Thou Local Art School. But the days there were way too long for people who were used to having lots of time to do their own creative stuff and they both independently decided they wanted to come home again. (This, of course, made me deliriously happy, but that's not important right now.)

And so they did. Lucy came back to finish her senior year and Jonathan his freshman year. They came back so much more appreciative of what an alternative home education has provided them. Both of them plunged back in to their new (old) environment with lots of energy. Lucy especially.

Yesterday was graduation.

Commencement is already such an emotionally charged event. The graduates are excited. The parents are nostalgic. And for one brief and shining moment, your teenager can do no wrong. ;-)

Lucy was chosen to give one of the two speeches at graduation. She chose to do it in a "spoken word poetry" style (of course, she did). She didn't leave a dry eye in the house.

Please enjoy, "Exact change."

As she spoke I quietly wept in the dark auditorium. I had done my job well and this moment was my reward.

In this moment, Eric and I knew that our homeschooling "experiment" was a resounding success.

God speed, my girl.

Congratulations to all of the members of the Pacific Coast High School Class of 2011. You did it!

Here's the full transcript of Lucy's speech:

    Change. Exact change.

    Stepped onto the bus for the first time, handling the weighty stack of quarters my mother had given me the day before. The bus driver smiled not because I was new but because I was welcome. Light blue carpeted floor and walls that slid back and forth to create new rooms. It was smaller than I had expected but more spacious than any bus I had entered before. A subterranean hum of conversation played tag with the necessary silence.    

    Wide-eyed and comfortable as long as my lips remained pressed together, I spotted the older passengers, the ones who had been there for ages already, fidgeting because their stop was fast approaching. Absent-minded and exhausted, they offered me their charmingly sarcastic advice, ready to move on to their next adventure. My small hands were tempted to draw faces in the chill of the windows but I restrained myself because I felt too new.    

    I sat myself next to the girl who wrote poetry on her hands and drew pictures of dinosaurs on her guitar like the dozens who found their freedom and their passion as soon as they took their seats. She pulled me aside by the arm introduced me to Santa Claus, who wore a blue-buttoned shirt and ironed trousers. The tour guide described the economy of the English language while encouraging respect and responsibility, familiarity and friendship, patience... and enthusiasm. I once sat next to a boy whose hair was far too long and I played games with the actors. To them, everyday was Shakespeare and the evenings were his sonnets; our world was a small stage and all of us were merely players, constantly ad-libbing our lines. I paid appropriate wonder to the ones smarter than myself and nudged the quiet ones out of their corners, asking them who they were and why they chose this curious mode of transportation.   

    Three times on our journey we stopped, each time was as long and memorable as seventeen sand-coated summers. I admit we had our favorites, like the restaurant surrounded by palm trees which served only burgers or the two patriotic cafés. Different drivers took their turns and the familiar faces left the bus, quickly replaced by the wide-eyed expressions I once wore.    

    The hot days leaked through the glass and stained our clothing with the heat, inciting frustration and self-doubt. But even amid the gray sunrises when our breathing was visible and painful, we still took photographs and danced as we changed seats. The drivers who had chosen to take cars instead were struggling with maps, distractions, backseat drivers, and meetings they were always late for. The same destination; just a different way of getting there. Accused of becoming lonely, the term “socialization” was thrown at the windows often.   

    By the time I knew everyone as well as they’d allow me, we were sitting near the front of the bus. We knew where we were headed and which stop was ours. The new visitors shuffled towards the back, warily observing the rest of our eccentric, chatty, absurdly lovable and thoroughly modern family. When our drivers questioned us about the trip, we wrote on colored post-it notes and decorated the windows. We had learned how to be honest with ourselves and we learned how to ask for help with our baggage.    

    As we finally step off the bus, in tasseled caps and ill-fitting robes, we may stumble over to the ones who have been there our entire lives. We are able to raise our heads, look them straight in the eyes and thank them. Even though we’re older and a bit worn, almost too exhausted for expressions, we manage to turn and smile at the bus drivers as they each offer a large wave goodbye. On a Wednesday afternoon, in the year 2011, we’ll remember that these drivers got us where we needed to be when we needed to be there which happened to be every Friday before 3 o’clock. But I implore you to recall that the ones standing outside paid for our fare and were always waiting for us to get home safely at the end of the day. After some tearful goodbyes and hugs that aren’t tight enough, you will board your next bus, heading towards somewhere only God knows. And wherever you may be going, please remember that you got to be where you are today because of change. Exact change.

Thank you.

The Hawk Walk

Last Sunday was Eric's birthday. And rather than add more stuff that-he-doesn't-need-or-want to his life, I had asked him if there was anything that he had always wanted to do, but had not taken the time.

"I've always wanted to see how hawks are trained," he said.

*quickly Googles hawk training*

There's a place in Marysville called West Coast Falconry that does just that. Marysville, however, is almost 500 miles away from us, somewhere up near Sacramento.

Coincidentally, Adam lives up near there...

ROAD TRIP!

Adam (25), Eric (umm...older), Jonathan (15).

We quickly decided that Jonathan would accompany Eric and the three of them would enjoy a Manly-Man Weekend.

I can't even begin to tell you how great it was for me to know that the three of them were together and playing and enjoying each other's company.

Eric and Jonathan got to spend time seeing where Adam lives and works and reported back that he's doing very well. I love how they all love each other and get a kick out of being together.

Road Trip from Marta Darby on Vimeo.

And yes, they did go on the Hawk Walk, too.

They got to wear that Really Cool Heavy Leather Bird Glove Thing (it probably has a special name, but I'm sure I don't know what that is, but that's not important right now). The hawk they got to play with was Mariposa and she would come when called and eat food out of their hands. As Jon would say, "Epic!"

In Eric's words, "It was like walking a dog, but way cooler."

My husband got exactly what he wanted for his birthday and my boys...well, I'm pretty sure they got much, much more.

Happy Birthday, Honey!

(Vicariously) Riding with Reagan

My two high school students, Lucy (17) and Jonathan (15), both had the privilege of attending the Young America's Foundation High School Conference at the Reagan Ranch Center last month.

You can read about Lucy's adventures in Washington D.C. (which include a run in with the Capitol police) last year here.

This was Jonathan's first time attending a YAF conference and he was excited about a few things:

• A weekend (without parental units) in Santa Barbara. (Win!)
• Getting to visit the Reagan Ranch. (Major Win!)
• Meeting John Barletta. (Epic Win!)

I know you're wondering, "Who is John Barletta and why was Jonathan so excited about meeting him?"

John Barletta happens to be the longest-serving Secret Service agent under President Reagan. So cool, right? His book, Riding with Reagan shares what it was like to ride (horses!) every day with Ron and Nancy Reagan at the magical Rancho del Cielo, better known as the Reagan Ranch, in the Santa Ynez Mountains.

Jon had just finished reading John Barletta's book. An excellent read, by the way. It's a wonderful and intimate glimpse of Ronald Reagan as just a man who loved horses and a simple life. (Here's the Amazon link.) And he grew to admire the author.

Eric and I had read the book after visiting the Ranch a couple of years ago and so we enjoyed lots of dinner conversations relating John Barletta's wonderful anecdotes concerning his time serving as Ronald Reagan's friend and protector.

So Jon was super pumped about meeting John Barletta.

See the look on Jonathan's face that says, "This guy RODE WITH RONALD REAGAN! He's a total Rock Star!"

 

My Jon with John Barletta.

I'm so glad Jonathan was able to meet one of his heroes.

Lest you begin thinking that because he's been homeschooled his entire life, that perhaps my son is not a typical teenager, let me just also point out that his other heroes include Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton...

...but that's not important right now. ;-)

"All great change in America begins at the dinner table." ~Ronald Reagan

 

I Miss That Face

My son, Adam lives in Northern California and I miss him terribly.

But he calls a few times a week and we text each other all the time, which makes me totally happy. (Reason #634 Why I love technology.)

Adam is busy working and going to school, and he's also coaching a junior lacrosse team.

When he was in junior high middle school he used to play lacrosse. I confess I only went to a couple of his games because I could barely stand to watch young boys running full speed at each other with poles. (I know. Bad Cuban mother. He's scarred for life. Blah, blah. Shut up.) 

Anyway, so Adam is coaching the young Red Hawks and he works very hard to get them fired up for their games each week....

And of course, I appreciate that Stephanie is being supportive, too....

The Red Hawks are 5-1.

Nice going, Coach. I miss you!!

(Amy Kikita thinks they should be called The Banana Singing Changos, but that's not important right now.)  =D

Murder at the Deadwood Saloon

The town of Deadwood, specifically the Deadwood Saloon was the place to be on New Year's Eve.

After weeks of play, the biggest poker tournament west of the Mississippi had concluded and it was time to celebrate and the prize money was going to be awarded at a party at the famed Deadwood Saloon.

In attendance were all sorts of visitors to Deadwood, including bankers, gamblers, gunslingers and saloon girls.

It was a wonderfully rowdy celebration.

And the festivities were hosted by Harry Highstakes himself.

But when it was time for the prize money to be awarded, a terrible thing happened. The lights went out and someone turned up dead.

It's a good thing local law enforcement was on hand.

Because each one of these innocent looking visitors definitely had a motive for murder.

Time to round up the usual suspects....

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NOTE: It's quite fun to host a murder.

This one, called Murder at the Deadwood Saloon was from an online company that I think provides particularly good materials. It's called Night of Mystery and they provide everything you need to host a really good murder. (No, they're not paying me to endorse them, they just are really that good, but that's not important right now.)

The materials are all provided in a download-able format and you also get detailed instructions and great party ideas.

The kids all got into their characters and as you can see, were dressed to kill.

It was a great way to celebrate New Year's Eve and Jonathan's birthday (which is on December 30th).

I'll admit to you that I was actually glad when it was all over. Because hosting multiple Nochebuena and Christmas and New Year's/Birthday parties in less than a week, was....well....murder. ;-)

Happy New Year! (Now it's time for my nap....)

The Best of MBFCF in 2010

I started this tradition last year.

I reviewed my posts for the entire year (which was kind of interesting in a wow-is-that-a-train-wreck? kinda way, but that's not important right now) and picked a mix of some of my favorites.

These links are a pretty good representation of what it's like Living the Vida Loca, MBFCF-style.

If you've been a regular reader, I thank you for your time and attention and your cyber-love. You may enjoy going into my cyber-time machine and re-living this past year via the following blog posts.

If you're new to my blog, make yourself at home and enjoy this slice of my Cuban-American life in the O.C.

Besos,

Marta

1. The Writing is On the Wall - The one where I take you on a tour of the walls of my freakishly small cottage-like home.

2. A Living Legacy - The one where my mom turned 96 and had her photo taken with (almost) everyone in my big, fat, Cuban family.

3. Amy's Trip to Cuba - The one where Amy Kikita (my daughter) goes to Cuba and shares how she experienced the island and the people and how she ended up meeting Cuban dissident blogger Yoani Sanchez of Generacion Y. This link is to all the posts from her trip.

4.  How Google Works - A Very Cuban Explanation - The one where my 96 year old mom explains how the internet search engines work. She calls them Cuco and Yayo (Google and Yahoo) and becomes an instant Youtube hit among Cubans everywhere.

5. How to Turn 55 While in Miami - In which I drag out my birthday celebration for days and enjoy a wonderful party and my husband's sweet surprise.

6. How to Throw a Virtual Birthday Party - In which I surprise and amaze my daughter by having everyone she knows post a birthday greeting. (*takes bow*)

7.  Hasta La Vista, Baby! - In which my son, Adam, moves far away and leaves me sad. (*wipes away a tear*)

8. Baking With Betty - Brownieliciousness - In which I get to bake in the Betty Crocker Kitchens in Minneapolis and am overwhelmed by my own nerdiness.

9. When is a Pitbull NOT a pitbull? - In which I am introduced to Cuban rapper, Pitbull and I may or may not have called him a muñecón. Here's the video version. ;-)

10. El Palacio and me. (It was love at first sight.) - In which I visit El Palacio de Los Jugos (with my partner in Tiki Tiki blog-crime, Carrie) in Miami and document the entire comelata.

11. The Mother Ring - In which I tell about how I received a family heirloom.

12. Nochebuena. Cubans. Photobooth. (Pachanga!) - In which I manage to capture the silliness and beauty that is my big, fat, Cuban family.

It's a nice compilation, isn't it?

I'll just keep writing in 2011. I hope you come back. My blog-casa is your blog-casa. =D

Happy New Year!

The Look

When he was little, he would give me a Look.

The Look could melt my heart in an instant.

The Look would wonder, "Am I in trouble?"

Or the Look would happily say, "Yes!" in answer to my silent offer of food or a gift.

He had a Look of Absolute Joy.

And a Look of Abject Terror.

The Look began the day he was born. I remember the doctor commenting, "You can tell this one is really smart. Check out that Look he's giving you."

It's taken 15 years, and he's completely perfected the I-can-totally-pull-this-off-and-lucky-for-me-I'm-so-cute Look.

Now he's begun to work on "The Smoulder...."

Jonathan Darby is 15 today. LOOK OUT, WORLD!

Happy Birthday, my son.  *sigh*

Nochebuena. Cubans. Photo Booth. (Pachanga!)

My home, as I've told you before, is freakishly small cottage-like.

Accomodating my big, fat, Cuban family for Nochebuena takes quite a bit of planning and hard work and a little bit of creativity. Actually, a LOT of creativity.

My family is full of extroverted, noisy people. (Hello? Cubans!) They are easy conversationalists and will most always cooperate with whatever creative suggestions get thrown their way. (This quality is what makes our yearly Christmas videos so compelling.)

But to be honest, hosting a big party like this in our freakishly small cottage-like home requires that we also do some "crowd control." (AKA: have some activities planned.)

This year, we had a Photo Booth. (I know. Genius, right?) I'd gotten the idea from a few blog events I've attended this year. The Photo Booths were always a hit.

Me to my (very creative) kids: "We need to do a Photo Booth for Nochebuena."

Lucy: "Let's ask Mr. G (our favorite professional photographer and awesome neighbor) for help."

Our Awesome Professional Photographer Neighbor, Raphael, let us borrow a backdrop and a remote flash and lights and the whole set-up for The Great Nochebuena Photo Booth of 2010.

We moved all the furniture out of the way in Jonathan's room and voila! Instant Photo Booth!

I wanted to make sure that everyone had their photos taken with my mom, Luza.

And that each family would be well represented.

I insisted that the couples jump in.

"Yes, of course you can bring the dog."

I suggested generational pictures.

And Lucy had the great eye for the crazy kid pics. (Do not miss Ben's Clip-on Tie of Awesomeness.)

We made sure to get the parents with each individual child. (This is probably because of some deep, psychological wounding I received because I was the youngest and there are no pictures of just me with my parents, but that's really a conversation I'll have to save for my therapist.)

And of course, there were the siblings.

And my men. (Missed you, Adam!)

The cousins got a little crazy.

And of course, we had to take the Classic Sister Picture of 2010. (Suitable for framing, no?)

Some of the photos were out of focus and a little goofy.....which made them absolutely Picture Perfect.

Yes, that's me. Right up front. With the smug self-satisfied grin on my face. (And gift wrapping ribbon in my hair, but that's not important right now.) =D

My Two Favorite Dolls

As a child, I played with dolls. A lot. In fact, constantly.

I had two that were my favorites. I had a Chatty Cathy doll. The kind with the pull string in the back that made her talk. And talk. And talk.

And a Skipper doll. Barbie's little sister. She had the coolest wardrobe ever.

I loved these two beauties so much that one day, I decided in my childish imagination, I'd have two daughters and they would each look just like my two favorite dolls...

Chatty Cathy:

And Skipper:

Maybe it was a prayer, because obviously, I got my wish. ;-)

[Read all about the story of the Christmas when I first got Skipper over at the Tiki Tiki.]

The Kids Are Alright

My kids are all gone this Thanksgiving weekend. And I'm okay with that. No, really. I am O-KAY.

I don't know when this cataclysmic change happened inside of me. But I know that it did.

Adam, whom I haven't seen for months because he moved to Northern California, was here for a few days and took Lucy and Jonathan back with him and Stephanie to Redding. They are spending Thanksgiving there and flying home on Monday.

And I'm okay with that.

Amy is spending Thanksgiving with her aging grandparents (the biological's folks) and is cooking an entire Thanksgiving feast at their home.

And I'm okay with that. In fact, I love it. I love that she wanted to bless her grandparents and do for them what they can't easily do for themselves anymore. I am quite proud of her.

I'm delighted that Adam wanted to have Lucy and Jon with him and that he took the week off to spend time with them and show them off to his new friends and introduce them to his new town. And I love that they were so happy to get to spend time with their big brother.

"This is sooo not Cuban,"  I thought to myself. I should be guilt-tripping them into being with Mami on This Most Glorious of All Holidays.

But instead I am happy. And proud. (WHO AM I??)

I got to have all four of them with me for breakfast on Wednesday before they all took off and commenced with their Thanksgiving plans that do not include Eric and me.

And it was enough.

Amy, Lucy & Jon.

Me, Adam, and Stephanie.

Weird, right? It was quite a surprise to me, too. I think that what I'm feeling might be peace. It's a new and unusual (and not very Cuban) feeling and I'm still sorting it out.

Eric and I will be spending Thanksgiving with his family and I will miss the fabulous comelata (loosely translated: eat-a-thon) that will be happening with the rest of my big, fat, Cuban family.

And I'm okay with that, too.

Of course, this may be just a passing phase. It may be seasonal. Or it may just be because I'm just tired. I don't know. And frankly, it doesn't matter.

So what if we won't be sharing a turkey one day of one year?  My worth as their mother doesn't come from the photo-op around the table. (Don't get me wrong....you know I love a beautifully set and bountiful table and I love when my house is full and noisy, but that's not important right now.)

I will definitely miss them, but I'm quite pleased with the people they have become and are becoming.

And for that I am truly thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.

"Cubanism can strike at any age."

Me: "I made 'fanguito.'" (FAHN-GEE-TOH)

Amy Kikita: "Fanguito? Really, Mom? Wait! Is that another Cubanism? Isn't 'fango' the Spanish word for 'mud?' Where exactly are you??"

She sounds puzzled, and I picture her tilting her head to one side (kind of like a German shepherd).

Me: "In the kitchen. 'Fanguito,' yes. It's really dulce de leche. But I made it in the crockpot. Isn't that cool?"

Silence. (I'm guessing she's processing and translating and praying for her mother's sanity.)

Amy Kikita: "You freaked me out just a little..." (under her breath): "I guess Cubanism can strike at any age."

Mooove it!

One of Lucy's creative writing classes involves creating a literary magazine. In fact, I think the name of the class is actually "Literary Magazine" or Lit Mag for short. (<--That's cool & hip student jargon in case you were wondering.)

The title of this fledgling Lit Mag is The Invisible Cow.*

[*The Invisible Cow refers to cows that graze in the fields on the climb up to the Mauna Kea Observatories in Hawaii. It gets very foggy up there and the road is not lit at night. The cows in the surrounding pastures sometimes lay down on the warm pavement and BLAMMO! some unsuspecting driver invariably hits a poor cow, and then wonders, "Whoa! What did I just hit?"]

 

But that's not important right now.

Meanwhile back to the original story here; Lucy and The Invisible Cow Lit Mag.

To illustrate some of the articles, she was asking everyone she knew to draw a cow. Everyone she knew includes her parents.

One of Lucy's parents is analytical, realistic, and extremely literal.  

The other parent is childlike, prone to silliness, and a bit whimsical.

So, today's question is: Which cow was drawn by Eric and which one was drawn by Marta?

(I know. Shut up.)

Home Alone

For years now, Eric and I have been home.

He works here at home. I have been homeschooling for years.

Our house is always full of noisy, happy, busy people. Whether they are our own kids or their friends, we've always had a full house.

 

But now, Adam is gone. And Amy, who has spent the summer here with us, is leaving, too.

Lucy and Jonathan are in school. Their school day goes from 8 am to 5 pm, so they get home just in time for dinner. 

All that to say this: It's quiet around here. Too quiet.

Of course, when the kids get home from school and we're at the dinner table, they are chatty and excited and telling us about their fun days in great detail. Jonathan goes right to his room and starts playing his guitar and Lucy turns up her iTunes and it's noisy and fun and it makes me happy.

But during the day....quiet.

Don't get me wrong. I like quiet. But I don't exactly know what to do with myself. Or how to act. Because, my goodness, it's so quiet around here!

I've gotten into a groove now. I write, I clean out drawers and closets (long, long! overdue), I bake and cook and go to the gym and still have hours left to create and paint and craft and tackle organizing and scrapbooking and telling the stories that go with the bizillions of photographs I've taken of my family and kids over these many years. (<--Big, time-intensive project. But hey....I've got time now. =D)

I do lunch. A lot.

I am getting used to the quiet. (In fact, I kind of like the quiet, but that's not important right now.)

I find I'm liking having days that are my own.

But I miss the noise. The laughter. The silliness.

I miss this...

My Kids from Marta Darby on Vimeo.

I suppose I could always jump up and down on the beds, order large cheese pizzas "just for me," set booby-traps for the stupid bad guys, and watch movies all day while eating junk food.  (<-- Yes, that's a nod to the silly Home Alone movies by John Hughes.)

Or I could just embrace the fact that they are all doing so well and give myself a break.

And maybe do lunch? ;-)