if you still believe in the easter bunny, you probably shouldn't read this

My older cousin is probably the one that broke the news to me. I probably tried to act cool - like I already knew. I don't really remember the exact details about finding out. And I don't clearly remember telling my mother about my new found knowledge. But I do clearly remember the devastation on her face when I told her I knew that she was the Easter bunny.

Most parents stop playing those parts when their children "grow out" of it. But I have a special kind of mother, the best kind, who up until this year, still labeled gifts from Santa, and still surprised me with treats "that the Easter bunny left at her house." I remember one Easter when I was dating my husband, the Easter bunny even left a basket for him at their house.

This past Christmas, she broke the news to my brother and me... Santa doesn't visit you anymore when you have your own children. My brother (whose wife was expecting) and I understood. But deep down, I think we were both a little sad. "No more Santa? Just because we have babies? No fair!"

Tonight, I prepared Nicholas' first Easter basket. As I contemplated where to leave it (his room? the stairs? the kitchen counter? Where does the Easter bunny leave these things?!), it suddenly dawned on me why Santa doesn't come anymore...it's because I am Santa. Duh...how could I not realize this before? Now, I am the Easter bunny. I'm Santa. I'm the Tooth Fairy.

I don't feel old enough for this. But here I am...wife, mother, Easter bunny.

I hope I can fill her shoes.

rule #1

The first rule of driving in Honduras...




there are no rules!

Make your own lanes (as seen above), drive on the sidewalks, drive over medians, drive in reverse down ramps, ....I'm telling you people I've seen it all. If you can drive in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, you can drive ANYWHERE!

dear soptravi,

Since you regraded the road I take to work, I really like you...







Pave it, and we could be talking love...

I got pulled over today...

The officer approached my car and said, "Su licencia y revisión, por favor." (License and registration, please.)

I said, "What? Yo no hablo espanol," with the gringo accent turned way up.

"SU LICENCIA! LICENCIA!!!" he said like he was talking to a deaf person.

"Ohhh, my license?!?" I asked in English, playing dumb.

"Yes," he replied in English. For a moment I panicked and thought OMG he speaks English...this isn't going to work!

But then he said, "y la revisión??"

"My what?! I'm sorry, yo no hablo español!" I said, still playing stupid.

"La revisión del vehiculo. DEL VEHICULO!" he said slowly.

"Ohhh...this??" I asked, pulling out my registration.

"Yes," he replied in English.

He walked to the back of the car to consult the other officer. They both laughed. He came back, handed me my license, and sent me off with a smirk and a "que le vaya muy bien."

"Grassy-ass," I answered with a grin, and drove away WITHOUT a ticket or having to pay a bribe.

So for future reference...learn from my past mistakes and current success:

Being mean, being nice, and crying do not get one out of a ticket in Honduras.

Pretending to not speak Spanish...now, that does the trick!

finally

I picked up my carné de residente (ID) today!! I'm an official Honduran resident! Wahoooo!

i knew this would happen

What did I tell you? I knew I wouldn't keep that resolution. But a girl's gotta try, right?

I've got lots to say...just no time! HELLO, I have a new baby. Everyday is a new adventure. But there's not a lot time when you have one of those. AND, I feel like I would bore you all to death with only baby news.

So how's this?

I spent way too much of my baby-is-sleeping-so-you-can-get-stuff-done time looking at the urban outiftters website tonight. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of almost everything. I love eccentric things. I mean, just look at that scarf strips shag rug! No one in Honduras has one of those. And those Alice drawings! So unique!

But, oh my, would you look at this headboard??

I saw it and fell. in. love. My heart said YES. My wallet LAUGHED. And my brain said HEY maybe YOU can make that!

What do you think? Should I give it a try????

And, of course, the obligatory cute photo...

silly goose

A few weeks ago Nicholas spit up all over himself (the story of his life). I said, "Don't do that, you silly goose! Now we have to change your clothes AGAIN!"

My husband asked, "Why do you always call him that? Silly goose? That makes no sense."

"It just means he's being silly."

"But why goose? That makes no sense."

Hmmmm. Good point.

So off to Google I went. It took a little while, but I found the answer.

According to Brewer's Dictionary of Fiction and Fable, calling someone a goose/geese means that they are foolish or ignorant due to the "alleged stupidity of this bird."

And now you know the rest of the story.

And now I REALLY want this book.

Your obligatory cute photo of the day...