Speaking of Secrets...(Now with Video!)

Nicco and Jackson have a secret handshake. Except it isn't a handshake.

First, they punch themselves in the face, like this:

 Then they throw their hands forward like this:

Funny boys. I don't know why they have a secret handshake. But it makes me giggle.

(Doesn't my baby look sad and puffy in the eyes? Darn allergies!)

P.S. At dinner tonight I got Nicco to demonstrate his secret handshake, which isn't a handshake. 

It's a Secret

In the car on the way home from school Elizabeth said she saw something she wasn't supposed to see and she's not supposed to tell anyone.

Nicco asked, "Can't you tell your best friend?"

Elizabeth asked, "You're my best friend?"

Nicco asked, "Can't you tell your friend?"

What's in a Name?

That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.

Poor, naive little Juliet. There is much in a name, as she tragically discovered. Our name is more than how others identify us, it's our identity-who we are.

My close friends and family call me Tam. I'm comfortable as Tam. I am Tam. Tam I am. But I always introduce myself as Tamara. The only person who was ever allowed to call me Tammy was my grandpa.

My older sister is Diana, not Dian-na or Diane.

My home teacher is Mason Dixon. Did his parents do that on purpose? Did they hope he would grow up and embody the spirit of compromise? Or did they hope he would be able to stand his ground- a line must be drawn here! This far, and no further! Or did they just love the name Mason so much, that the last name was inconsequential? Did they figure that people are so culturally and historically ignorant that no one would even think twice about a kid named Mason Dixon?

My mom is Damaris. People have asked her what she goes by. Uh, by my name, Damaris. (idiots)

Patrice used to get offended when he would get phone calls or mail for Ms. Boudou until he realized that he could legitimately blow them off by saying truthfully "There's no Ms. Patrice Boudou here."

We agonized over Nicco's name. We wanted something normal without being common, unique without being weird. And we wanted a meaningful name. Nicco means "victorious." I understand when people ask if it is short for something, but I don't understand people who want to change it to a nickname. What would a nickname for Nicco be? Apparently, to his music teacher, it would be Nicky.

On Thursday mornings his music teacher is the gate guard at school. I heard her call him Nicky the first time a few weeks ago, but I was already in my corner watching him walk through the courtyard and around the corner and I felt dumb going up to her to correct her. I asked Nicco if she always calls him Nicky. He said, "I think she was just being funny." I told him it is okay to politely say to her, "My name is Nicco." But he's shy.

I forgot again last Thursday to stay close to him so I would be nearby to correct her for him and he came home and said, "Ms. Luck called me Nicky again."

Today when he saw her at the gate he walked me back a few steps and whispered, "Can you tell her my name is Nicco if she calls me Nicky again?" So I did. She apologized. And I'm sure she will call him Nicco from now on.

Shoot!

We went out to the pistol range this morning while Nicco was at school. Patrice was on fire! There was barely any red left in the bullseye of his target.

I was a little off. My inner Annie Oakley must have stayed in bed. I blame Zyrtec. In the fog and haze of snooze inducing allergy meds, I just couldn't focus. Plus I didn't eat breakfast. Always eat breakfast, kids! It's the most important meal of the day.

I got a few really nice shots off, but I was kind of all over the place today. It was good for me that Patrice set up two targets on my stand...that way I could pretend that I was actually aiming with the shots that hit the bottom target.

I'd still take out any bad guy who dared to come in my house, but I'll definitely need more practice if I'm going to be any use in the zombie apocalypse. You have to hit those guys in the head.

Deep Thoughts

In my faith, we believe in the eternity of the soul. That which is the spirit, the intelligence, existed before we were born on Earth, it animates our Earthly body, it will continue to live after we die. We also believe that Christ pioneered our path. We will be resurrected after our death and our spirits will re-inhabit our bodies, just as Jesus was resurrected and His spirit rejoined his body. We believe that when Christ comes for the second time, the Earth will be purged of evil and corruption and will be cleansed and prepared for celestial, purified, resurrected, righteous beings to dwell upon with their families forever.

These are deep and heavy concepts for anyone to ponder, especially so for curious little minds like my six year old.

Young minds without grown-up wisdom, experience and understanding often misinterpret information  and relate ideas dispensed by grown-ups to the things they do understand. I didn't fully comprehend some things my mom said when I was a kid.

For example, my body reacts violently to mosquito bites. Once when I was bitten on the face my eyes swelled shut and my whole face puffed up until the venom dissipated. Another time after a moment by a river without mosquito spray I was the victim of a dozen or more mosquitoes and my legs lost all definition, becoming puffy, swollen stumps from thigh to foot. Even the welts weren't discernible bumps from all the swelling. Due to this reaction, my mother told me to exercise extreme caution around bees because people who have allergic reactions to bee stings can die from them. Not surprisingly, I became deathly afraid of bees.

Years went by without incident but I never forgot that warning. One day when my mom was out shopping and running other errands, I was playing basketball with my sisters and neighbors and I got stung on the inside of my thigh by a bee. I went weak in the knees and ran inside to tell my dad. He told me to put ice on it. PUT ICE ON IT??? I'm GOING TO DIE and you are telling me to PUT ICE ON IT??? In tears, I made myself an ice pack and curled up on my bed, waiting for the inevitable. Mom came home and asked me what was wrong. I told her I was stung by a bee. She asked if it hurt. I said a little. She asked if I put ice on it. I said yes. She patted my head and walked out of my room. I could not believe it. I was stung by a bee and about to die and my parents didn't even care. I cried and cried for hours, unaware that anaphylaxis is a pretty rapid reaction and that I was obviously NOT allergic to bee stings and I would indeed survive. I was honestly surprised to wake up the following morning. But I did, and I got on with my life. My parents were completely, blissfully unaware of my torment. My mom didn't even remember her casual warning about bee stings that embedded the terror in my young mind.

Another childhood misunderstanding of mine occurred when I overheard my mom and my aunt saying something about my other aunt losing her baby. I stopped, turned to my mother and asked, stunned, "Carol lost her baby???" As calm as could be my mom said yes. I asked where. She said at the hospital. I asked how big the baby was. My mom held out her cupped hand and traced a circle in her palm and said, "about this big." I was shocked. Sickened. Disturbed. As much at the apparent lack of concern for a tiny baby lost at a hospital on the part of my mom and my aunt as I was at the fact that people at a hospital could lose a baby! The unspeakable horror and gross negligence of doctors and nurses who actually lost a baby! And yet, here they were, speaking of it. Casually, even!

I walked away from the conversation in utter bewilderment and horror, with thoughts and visions of this teeny little baby that would fit in my mother's palm being accidentally tossed in with the dirty sheets at the hospital, or taken out with the cafeteria trays. And lost. And everyone just sort of shrugging their shoulders as if that sort of thing happened all the time, and oh well, she'll just try again to have another baby. Those images popped into my mind periodically until I actually heard and understood the term "miscarriage" and connected the dots.

Back to my kid. He is afraid of dying. He is afraid of losing his grandparents. I try to comfort him by telling him that he will live a long time if he takes care of his body and follows rules to keep himself safe, healthy, and strong. I try to comfort him by telling him about our concept of eternity, that we will get to live with our family forever and we will see each other again after we die.

I know he doesn't quite get it, and it is a very difficult and abstract concept even for adults to comprehend. Still, he tries to relate it to what he understands. He asked me where we go to wait for our families. I said heaven, knowing that word is inadequate for his little mind. Where is heaven? he asked. I'm not exactly sure, I told him, but it is a place where our spirits go after we die. Is it like space? he asked. Kind of, I said. Will we come back to earth? he asked. And, What will we do in space?

I wanted the conversation to end because I didn't want to fill his head with weird images that he wouldn't understand, and because I don't even know the answers to all his questions. It didn't end. This was after Easter, so I talked about resurrection and I told him that our spirits will be back in our bodies again and we will be able to live on Earth with our families forever. Ugh, I thought. My poor, inquisitive kid.

Will I still look like me and will you still look like you after we come back from space? he asked. I told him yes, confident at least in that answer. Will I still be a kid when I come back from space? I like being a kid, he said.

I wonder what pictures are in his head. I imagine him imagining us rocketing from planet to planet in flying saucers while we are in space waiting to get our bodies back. I know my mom was surprised and amused when, as a grown-up myself, I told her about my childhood interpretations of allergic reactions and miscarriages. I wonder what Nicco will tell me when he grows up a little bit and can articulate his childhood interpretations of heaven and the afterlife.

And I hope I haven't scarred him forevermore.

Hodge Podge

We went to the fair. It was 100 degrees. I had a screaming headache. I survived.

It actually wasn't as bad as I anticipated. Some clouds rolled in and a breeze picked up, so 100 degrees felt more like 95, easy. Plus, Nicco had a blast. At least until I told him he couldn't throw away any more money trying to win a Despicable Me minion toy. Then the bumper cars that wouldn't go. But other than that, "It was AWESOME!"

The awesome rides:

There was a tiger show too. They were pretty cool cats, if I say so myself.

Speaking of cats, our little Miss Frankie went coo-coo-kachoo over the lizard climbing on the screen door this morning. She was dying and trying her best to get outside!

Speaking of outside, this is the temperature of the water in the pool. We only heat it with the solar cover.

Of course, when the water approaches 90 degrees, that means the air temperature is roughly the same as a blowtorch. Not that I mind, mind you. It will be a cold day in Tucson when you hear me complaining of the heat! 

Giddy Up

On Friday after school I took Nicco out to the stables where our friends board their horse. They got Banker (whose racing name is Minister of Finance) for Christmas. The girls L-O-V-E horses. Their birthday party was all horsey. Every time we get together we talk about meeting them at the barn to watch the girls ride and maybe even get Nicco saddled up for a ride around the arena.

Banker is a big horse, especially compared to the little kiddos. Nicco was a bit timid and wanted to stay behind the fence.

The ladies walked and ran the horse around the arena to get his energy out and to prep him for riders.

They brushed him and petted him and gave him treats before they saddled him up to ride.

Devin showed Nicco all the other horses while Delaney rode. He just watched all the goings on. He didn't get too close to any of the animals. We offered him several opportunities to pat, feed, brush, and even ride, but he chose not to.

Nobody pushed him because I think everyone understands that it is a bad idea to put a nervous person on the back of a horse. As Devin explained, horses can sense their riders' emotions and react similarly.

Of course, seeing this probably didn't help with the intimidation factor:





Great Horned Owls

This is just about the coolest thing ever.

There is a hollowed out saguaro with a nest of Great Horned Owls. Three babies and a daddy. Or a mommy. Or both. But I think I only saw one parent. The babies are big, probably about ready to leave the nest, so it was a little confusing as to whether or not one may have been a grown up. But they're fuzzy so I'm pretty sure they're babies.

I took Nicco to see them after gym class.

We went back with Patrice later and the hunter flew off just moments after we got there. Awesome!

There were some people there last night with super high-tech cameras with big lenses and all. They could probably sell their pictures to National Geographic even. My little point and click doesn't capture the awesomeness, but still. Totally cool.

Give, Oh Give

Nicco's teacher had the kids and their families and friends collecting pop tabs to donate to the Ronald McDonald house. She had a hard time convincing the other teachers to get involved, but her class came through in a big way:

On Tuesday, she asked if anyone would like to go with her to drop off the donation. She called ahead to see if the kids who came along could get a tour of the facility so they could connect their collecting to real help and benefits to others. These three kiddos came along.

The first step in the process (after the obligatory photo with Ronald McDonald, of course) was to weigh their tabs. They collected 4.11 pounds!

After weighing the tabs the kids got to dump them in the bin with the rest of the tabs. There were a lot. The bin was practically overflowing.

They liked running their hands through all those tabs. They wondered how many there were...I said maybe a million. Nicco guessed closer to a billion. Either way, it's a lot.

The lady who greeted us was not the same person Mrs. Cornwell had spoken with previously, so the tour was impromptu and unplanned. But, the kids got to see the play room, t.v. room, cafeteria and playground at the facility. The Ronald McDonald House provides a "home away from home" for families of children facing serious illness and injury. 160 pounds of pop tabs funds one family to stay one night at the house, 147 pounds pays for the electricity for one day, and approximately $7,000 is raised each year for the house through pop tab recycling. A worthy cause, I think, and I'm glad Nicco was glad to help.

The kids got a fresh baked cookie in exchange for their donation.

I took Nicco and Elizabeth to McDonald's for lunch afterwards, and they asked if I had any money to put in the McDonald House collection jars at the counter. "We just want to help," Elizabeth said.

I gave them the spare change in my purse.

They were very excited to help.

They were more excited to climb and play.

Six Words for the Planet

The EPA is running a contest. Six Words for the Planet, it's called. Doesn't that sound nice? All warm and fuzzy and super awesome? All hands across America and Kumbaya?

They, the EPA, are asking people to submit six-word essays about the planet for a taxpayer-funded project aiming to “celebrate the environment.”

Staff members shared their own submissions on the blog post announcing the project.

Many nations. One planet. Our home.
Our only. Our one. Home planet.
{{sniff}}

Staff members at the Washington Free Beacon asked about how much money was being used to fund the project. The amount is unknown. The WFB requests for comments on the use of taxpayer money to fund the project passed unacknowledged. The WFB writer's 6 words for the EPA are:

Request for comment. Was not returned.

Here's my submission. You can see it at the EPA website. My handle is 'taxpayer.'

Why are you wasting my money?

Hiccups?

Yesterday Nicco and I were swimming and he caught a bad case of the hiccups. I mentioned how those darn hiccups weren't going away and he casually shrugged his shoulders and simply stated "Allergies."

Creepy Crawly

Nicco has been learning about bugs and other creepy crawlies at school lately. He knows about abdomens and exoskeletons. He knows the difference between insects and arachnids. He knows about life cycles and metamorphosis.

The kids had two weeks to complete a research project and prepare for an oral presentation in front of the class. There were five steps in the assignment:

1. Find a bug and bring it to class.
2. Label and draw a detailed picture of the bug.
3. Research the bug.
4. Write 5 facts about the bug.
5. Present the research in class.

After a couple of unsuccessful bug hunts, Nicco resigned himself to learning about a bug on the internet. He chose the Australia Jewel Beetle. But then the cat sneaked out onto the patio one night and caught a bug! Hooray! Frankie to the rescue! We captured the bug and brought it inside. It was a cockroach. It was gross.

Nicco brought it to school the next day and thought he was done. When I told him he needed to draw a picture and write five sentences, he said "too late, I already brought my bug in." I reassured him that he could research the bug without it being in the house.

With just a little hemming and hawing, he drew a great picture of his cockroach, including the spiky hairs on its legs. With some drama and stubbornness (wha???) he wrote five facts:

1. Boy cockroaches are skinnier than girl cockroaches. ("Ha ha, girls are fat!")
2. Cockroaches live all over the earth.
3. Cockroaches come out at night.
4. Cockroaches are scavengers.
5. Cockroaches eat anything, even poop.

Here he is, presenting his drawing to the class.

And here he is, reading his facts.

I asked him if the kids laughed when he said the last fact about eating poop. He said, "No, they were like 'eww!' Next year I won't talk about poop. I don't want that to happen again."



The Bloomin' Desert

The cacti and flowers are popping now.

This is the cat's claw climbing on our back and side walls. I've never seen it bloom like this before!

And here is our hedgehog cactus in bloom:

Ocotillo are one of my very favorites once they bloom. And, this is the first time the desert spoon grew the giant stalk in the middle. All I can think of is how that will affect my allergies once it is in full blossom. Ugh.

The jasmine have not popped out yet and we had the giant bush trimmed yesterday, so hopefully the allergens will be minimized.

Also, I accidentally scared our mama quail from her annual nest. Boo! I've seen our pair bobbing along lately and I knew they were nesting somewhere, but I hoped not to discover their nest so as to NOT scare them away and abandon the eggs as they've done in the past. That mama fluttered and her wings and puffed her chest and screamed and sqawked at me. I moved away quickly so she could see that she "scared" me away. I kind of don't want to take my trash out to the curb until those babies hatch safely! I don't think I can hold out that long though. Even if I could, I'm sure my husband would intervene.

Oh. My. Goodness.

A Collection of Nicco's Random Thoughts

On Grandparents
On the eve of his grandparents' arrival when I told him to get his jammies on, he squealed, "Yay! Jammies!" I replied that jammies are indeed awesome and he said, "Not that. It just means I'm closer to seeing my grandparents!" Later when we snuggled for sleep and I told him to have sweet dreams he said, "If I have sweet dreams it will be like more time with my grandparents because I will be dreaming about them."

As their departure date approached Nicco said, "My grandparents don't have to leave. They don't have pets."

On the night before their departure,  Nicco said he would probably cry all night. When he woke up in the morning, he was "double sad" and said he will not be happy again until July 4th when we go to visit them again.

I feel a little sad for my tender-hearted boy, but I love how much he loves to have his family around.

On Easter and Baptism
After the egg hunt and before church services on Easter morning, Nicco and I read from his Bible the story of Christ's sacrifice and resurrection. When I snuggled him to sleep that night he said, "That pilot (a.k.a. Pontius Pilate) was not so bad. He just had bad soldiers. Why would a pilot want to have bad soldiers?"

When I told my boy that Jesus died to take on our sins for us, he said "I know another way to wash away our sins. We dress all in white and dunk in the pool. But can we just do it in the hot tub so I can hold on?" Later he asked me if he has an all white shirt and all white pants. I said yes to the former and no to the latter and he said, "I guess I can't get baptized then."

On the Tooth Fairy
Nicco is dying to have a loose tooth. A while ago he told me that when he loses a tooth he will put it under his pillow and wake up with a toy. I said that when I was a kid, I got a quarter in exchange for a tooth. He asked if I thought the tooth fairy was my parents. I said no. He asked what the tooth fairy would want with all those teeth, then speculated that she makes fairy houses using teeth for bricks.

On the Death by Cat of a Small Fuzzy Chick
"Now my heart is double broken."

Have Your Peeps Call My Peeps

Nicco's "Best Easter Ever" started with the traditional egg hunt. Once he found all his eggs, he counted and sorted his loot.

 I mentioned something to Nicco about all the birds he got in his basket and he said he only got two. I said it looked like six to me, and he said very matter of factly, "Mom. Those aren't birds, those are peeps." When I said they are in the shape of birds he just laughed at me and repeated the obvious fact. Those are peeps.

The bunny was pretty generous with Nicco. He was very pleased.

I did read the story of Easter in his cartoon scriptures so he would know that it is about more than chicks and bunnies and eggs and chocolate and peeps.

Arizona Centennial Quilt Project

Arizona celebrated 100 years of statehood on Valentine's Day this year. Part of the celebration was a call to Arizona quilters to stitch their AZ inspiration in fabric. An exhibit of the entries is on display at the history museum through the end of the year and since my mom likes quilts and museums, we left grandpa in charge of Nicco for the afternoon and we had a mommy-daughter date.
The entries included everything from Brownie troops to professionals, and everything in between. There was a chile pepper quilt done by an 11 year old boy whose grandmother taught him to sew when he was 7 and he's been quilting ever since. There were a couple of school groups who pieced their history and art lessons together. There were families and family tributes, tributes to Arizona's historical people, places, industries, flora and fauna. Each quilt had a story and it was fun to learn and see how the state has impacted all these different people.

This was one of the first quilts on display:

It is shaped like the state and shows landmarks and significant influences in Tucson. The details are amazing.

I also liked this tribute to the cattle ranchers with all the brands.

This quilt acknowledges the Mexican influence and celebrates the Day of the Dead. According to the culture, there are three deaths; death of the body, death of the spirit, and death of the memory. To avoid the third death, families of the deceased celebrate those who have passed on with, food, flowers, dance, and song.

This quilt was a prize winner. It was stunning. There were several quilts that represented the different cacti and they were all unique. It was interesting to see all the different interpretations.

I liked this golden treasure one too. All one color, but everything you can think of that represents Arizona was stitched in gold. Here's a detail of a road runner:

I could have and was tempted to take many more pictures, but I felt kind of silly photographing all the quilts. Mom and I agreed that creative people are kind of awesome and we are glad they share their talents with the world.

Zoo Trip

Nicco wanted to take his grandparents to the zoo, so when our travelers returned from abroad, we fulfilled that wish.

Nicco and his grandma listening to the narrator talk about the animals at the zoo. Ever since Nicco saw the key his friend used to hear about the animals he's been begging to go back and get a key. He was very pleased with it. His primary love language is gifts, so I am always happy when I can speak his language to him without spending too much money. $2.50 is a pretty small price to communicate "I Love You."

It looks like my little monkey is trying to join the troop behind the barrier.

The Denver Zoo is one of the very nicest zoos I've ever visited. Our zoo in Tucson is significantly smaller than the one in Denver, but it is nearly as nice. It is very clean and has big, open habitats. You feel very close to the animals.

It is also very kid friendly. Nicco always spends some time playing in, on, and around the tortoise shell in the kids' play area.

There were some baby duckies in the flamingo pond. So cute! There were also signs saying "Please don't pick up the baby ducks." It was tempting, I confess. They're so fluffy!

The zoo recently expanded and upgraded the elephant habitat. Expedition Tanzania, as it is called, is worth the admission to the park by itself. They got some new elephants, the one they seem to be most pleased with is a big giant-tusked male named Tembo, but I was most pleased with the two little babies.

The elephants have a very wide expansive habitat to wander about, and the rest of that section of the zoo is an interestingly and neatly landscaped garden path with tidbits about elephants and African culture.

And some boulders to jump on.

This is the donors' wall. Very nice, I say!

Nicco and his grandparents in Tanzania. They didn't notice the big giant snake in the tree above their heads! Can you spot it?

This water play area is called "Kenya Get Wet." It is a brilliant idea in Tucson. Nice for the kids to cool down on hot zoo afternoons!

Relaxing with the grandpa.

I'm not exactly sure why there is a giant dinosaur egg at the zoo. There were no dinosaur exhibits. Unless this is just an oversized bird egg in the aviary. Nicco says that birds ARE dinosaurs. He learned something about dinosaurs being relatives of modern birds, so now he thinks birds are dinosaurs.

When we cane home, Nicco built a zoo.

And here is a video of my boy playing the drums in Tanzania.