The Darndest Things

Me: Let’s play hide and seek! I’ll count to ten, and you go hide. Then I’ll come find you!
Alex: ::running away:: Otay! I be hiding!
Me: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10! Ready or not, here I come!
Alex: ::running towards me:: Heaw I am!

I don’t think he quite grasps the concept.

Me: I love you.
Alex: You wuv me?
Me: Very much.
Alex: Thanks.

Me: Alex, you’re so cute!
Alex: Noooo…I not cute, you’re cute!
Me: Aw, thanks. But seriously…how did you get to be so cute? I guess it’s in your genes.
Alex: ::looks down at his pants, puts his hands in his pocket, pulls out a quarter:: Dis? You gave me dis in my pants? It’s so cwute!

Alex: Ick. I don’t wike dis cheese.
Me: That’s probably because it’s sharp.
Alex: Oh! Oww…it’s sharp! Oww! Yucky cheese. ::puts his hand near it:: Ow! Sharp!

In the middle of doing just about anything: “Mommy, you wike dis? You wike dis movie/food/game?”

Me: Alex, are you are a boy or a girl?
Alex: I’m a boy!
Me: Is daddy a boy or a girl?
Alex: Daddy’s a boy! He’s a good boy.
Me: Am I a boy or a girl?
Alex: Noooo…you’re just mommy!
Me: I’m not a girl?
Alex: No!
Me: If daddy’s a good boy, can I be a good girl?
Alex: Noooo…you’re mommy! You’re not a good girl. [Name of girl at daycare] is a good girl!
Me: But I’m not? I’m not a girl?
Alex: No. You’re silly. You’re just mommy.

Me: ::walking downstairs after getting ready for the day:: Hi, buddy!
Alex: Hi, mommy! Ooooh…you’re pwetty!
Me: Aw, thanks, sweetie! You’re pretty, too!
Alex: Nooooo…I not pwetty. I’m cwute!

Me: Alex, are you hungry? Do you want your snack?
Alex: No. I’m fine. I’m just playing. Are you hungry?


Mwen Regret Sa

I lack the writing skills to properly explain the situation. Even if I sat here for hours, editing my thoughts, I would never succeed in communicating the contradictions of emotions that these children have brought to me. Honestly, I don’t even know if my own brain can comprehend it all.

Last night, I had the opportunity to spend the night with the remaining orphans. I believe there were about fourteen of them, though I spent my time with the youngest three: a ten month old who was only twelve pounds, a one year old who looked six months old, and a healthy, babbling, vibrant one year old girl.

These children are breathtaking. They are beautiful, smart, so loving to one another, and amazingly resilient. These children will forever be in my heart, and I only spent 6 hours with them. I will think of them often, and hope that they have every opportunity to continue to be the amazing people they are.

I don’t speak any creole, and very, very, little french, so my communication with the older children was limited at best. “Bonjou” does not simply mean hello or good afternoon (like “bonjour” in french does), it means “good day” and is used only before 11am. A five year old girl, when I greeted her with “bonjou!” smiled at me and said, “non, bonswa!” giggling with bright eyes. I attempted to ask her how she was, but I only knew how to do so in french. “Comment ├ža va?” She giggled again, understanding my botched french accent, and replied: “Non! Komon ou ye?… Mwen byen! Mesi!” She ran off in her pajamas to play with her friends, the other orphaned children.

The children all went to bed around eight, and I sat in the infant room listening to the three babies sleeping in the donated pack ‘n plays.

These children? Are amazing.

This morning I woke up with Alex. I woke up to his little voice singing, “Moooooommmmyyy!” Over breakfast, he told me: “You weft wast night. I cwied. Daddy put spaceships on the TV!” I took the time to explain to him where I was and what I was doing. I told him that I had spent the night with children who don’t have mommies and daddies.

“No Mommy? Oh…dey’re sad.”

I told him that they may be a little sad, but most of them were actually very happy. They had each other, and wonderful big people to take of them, I explained.

Alex looked at me, very seriously, and told me: “No…dey’re sad. Dey don’t have a mommy? Dey’re sad.”

I hugged him extra tight, gave him a kiss on his cheek, and told him I loved him.


If you haven’t yet, please donate to Haiti. Every little bit helps, and we can all do something.

Cwimps-muhss, Oh My

This was Alex’s first Christmas, in many ways. While he has technically had two before this one, this was the first one he had the beginnings of understanding. He knew that it meant we got to bring a “tree? Inside!?” and that there would be presents for him. He knew that we would visit family and have the opportunity to “eat yummy tweats!” He also had some inkling that a man with a red hat would be bringing him gifts and that this man was named Santa.

Now, the whole Santa thing is probably the only thing Zach and I have a bit of a disagreement about. I’m not a fan of Santa, but we will be doing the Santa thing regardless of my feelings about it. This year was no exception, and Alex got a few presents from Santa under the tree.

Santa didn’t get the opportunity to give Alex very many “good” presents, and the ones that were there first thing in the morning for Alex to enjoy were not particularly well received.

Sitting in front of the tree, unwrapped, were two adorable stuffed animals. The kind of stuffed animals that you touch and can’t fathom how they got to be so amazingly soft. The kind of stuffed animals that are just perfect for cuddling.

When Alex saw them, he said, “Pooh and Tigger! Where’s Mickey? I want a Mickey.”

Whoops. I guess Santa didn’t get the memo that Tigger and Pooh are out and Mickey is in.

Christmas Morning

Fortunately, Alex received a Woody and Buzz from us that he is in love with, and life basically couldn’t be any better for a two year old. He runs around playing with them for the majority of the day, making them talk to each other and telling us all about their adventures:

Buzz: “To affinity…and be-onnnn!”

Woody: “You are a toy! You can’t fly!”

“Woody says, ‘howdy howdy howdy!'”

“Buzz has wings on! He can fly! Look, he can fly with Woody! Wooooosh!”

And he surprised us with this one, which I’m not sure is a part of the movie. And if it is a part of the movie, I wish he hadn’t picked it up. But if it isn’t a part of the movie, well…where did he pick it up?

Woody: “Buzz, you want a piece of me?”

Oh, My.