31 December 2006

More Egg, Please...

One of the regular morning traditions that Trinhity & I have -- this is the Daddy typing -- is to eat breakfast at La Madeline, a local French bistro. Although the clientèle is usually rather stodgy and gray, the food is good. Most importantly, LeMad has the distinct virtue of opening at 6:00 AM, an hour that Mama would prefer never to see.

One morning just after Christmas when Mama was asleep, we slipped outta the house and made a LeMad run. Just as we were finishing the eggs, a nice little old fur-and-bangled lady rambled over and gushed something like, "Oh, it's just so wonderful to see you young fathers out with your children. My, my, isn't she a doll? That's the most adorable hat...and I just looove those shoes!"

Actually, she wasn't so little. She had numerous chins, drooping jowls and her thick blue eye-shadow would've been more fashionable back in 1985 -- on a 14-year old. While she was chatting, Trinhity started pointing at her and using a sign: she put the back of her right hand under her chin and flapped it up and down.

She uses that sign to mean two different things: either "dirty / gross" or "elephant". We usually know what she means by the context; in this case, I wasn't so sure.

The lady asked what she was doing. "Er, she's using sign language," I stammered. "Well, what is she saying?" she crooned.

Uh-oh. "Ahem...erm...I think that means, 'more egg, please'."

Suburban Stroll

Trinhity & I regularly stroll over to get the mail, and sometimes we wander a bit further. She usually tells me where to go.

Sometimes we plop down on the curb to read the mail.

And on this particular stroll we found...bears. Polar bears, in fact...in Houston. Hmmm.

10 December 2006

Holiday Fashion Show

Apologies for the long gap in picture postings; it's been a rather busy month. We are, however, back on track now: here's the official 2006 Holiday Fashion Show.

03 December 2006

An Apple Tail

We've been working not only on signs and words for foods and animals, but also for various body parts. She has a sign for apple: she points to her cheek and rotates her hand; close 'nuff to the ASL version for us. She also has a sign for "tail"; she points to her posterior...and laughs.

One morning last week, Trinhity was eating an apple. She did her sign for apple, then pointed to the stem of her apple, then pointed to her butt...then laughed.

Translation: "Look Mommy, this apple has a tail! Hee, hee!"

Little Pieces of the Sky

On our last trip to Austin, David (as in Pulkingham, Trinhity's godfather) gave us a CD from one of his bands: Little Pieces of the Sky by the Crying Monkeys. It's a compilation of some 18 pieces of choro music ("cry" in Portuguese), a fairly obscure but intensely charming genre of 19th century Brazilian jazz.

Last night we threw a minor dinner party for another transplanted couple we know here in Houston who has two kids now. Like us, they like to think that they also used to have lives. I kicked Little Pieces of the Sky the whole time they were here, but I wasn't sure if anyone actually listened or not.

When it came time to dance Trinhity down to sleep, I went to put on her usual easy-listening sleepy-time choice: the Crazy Frog techno remix. But then she saw the Crying Monkeys jewel case and suddenly decided that she'd prefer a chorinho instead. She likes monkeys, you see.

She did her little reaching arm jive thing to the first few bars of Noites Cariocas ("Rio Nights"), then sacked out on my shoulder. Pedaçinhos do Céu ("Little Pieces of the Sky") started; she perked up, quirked her head and said "Yeeaaah", then went back to my shoulder. A third tune started...she popped up, shook her head violently, said "Nooo.....baaaah!!!" (back) and demanded that I play the title track again. She was sound asleep by the end of the second round.

It turns out that someone *was* listening last night.

I was amused that she'd taken a shine to techno and hiphop, both of which I originally despised but have come to genuinely enjoy over recent years. But at 18 months for her to have strong opinions about a venerable form of Brazilian jazz? I'm rather pleased.