Busy Boy Sleepover

Hi!  It's Daniel.  Time for a story.  OK?
 
CHAPTER ONE: Saturday Night
Once upon a time,
I went to GiGi and Hey Yea's house.
 
Mamae and Papai said goodbye.  Tchau tchau!
 
They went to a soccer game without me,
even though I like balls a whole lot.
 
There was something new at Hey Yea's. SplishySplash outside!

I liked the cup with holes

in the bottom.

Agua made a trickle-trickle sound.

Agua means water.

SplishySplash was so much fun! 

Especially with Hey Yea.

He helped me fill up.

Sometimes he splashed me.

We made the wheels

spin around and 'round

when we poured agua.

Wow!  Look!
Agua can be paint!



After SplishySplash, I played with my tractor.

It goes vroom-mmm-mmm.

My GiGi gave me dinner.

Then she made a warm bath for me.

It smelled good.

 

I sat with Hey Yea on the big-big couch,

smelling good and warm in my jammies.

 

We watched Hey Yea's favorite Galinha Pintadinha songs on youtube.

 

My GiGi read Goodnight Moon.  Goodnight . . . goodnight . . .

 

Goodnight . . .  I went right to sleep.

 

 

CHAPTER TWO: Sunday Morning Birds

Tweet! Tweet!

I woke up my bird friends.

It was time for breakfast.

GiGi needed my help
feeding the birds.

I picked out the best seeds.

Bird friends needed a smooth place to eat.

CHAPTER THREE:  Sand 'n Giggles

Then it was time to explore.

What is this?!

Sand!

Mamae bought new shoes for my busy boy feet that grew. 

The yellow shovel was fun to hold.

I liked to feel crunchy cool sand.

I growled like a tigerrrrr.

I made my GiGi laugh.

When we laughed, I got the hiccups.
Hic!  We laughed! Hic!
We laughed!

My GiGi laughs a lot.

She says Daniel is a funny busy boy. 

Do I smile like Mickey Mouse?

CHAPTER FOUR: Sunday Morning Bunnies

Three bunnies stay in GiGi's garden.
I visited them.

One bunny talked to me.

 

   He told me secrets.

My bird friends were eating.

They flew away whoosh when I came close.

Is Hey Yea awake yet?

Can we go inside and see?

 

CHAPTER FIVE: Hangin' with Hey Yea

Hey Yea!  Good Morning!

Is that your razor?

MMMMMM--MMMMMM--MMMMM.

   Hey Yea tickled my hand and my tummy with his buzzy razor.

Wheels!  Hey Yea had a car on his shirt.

He showed me his shiny purple car.

Wow!  Vrooommm-mmm-mmmm.

I climbed down from Hey Yea's lap.

I went to find more wheels.

I called "Hey Yea!" and he came to find me.

We played more wheels.

CHAPTER SIX:  More Busy-ness

I like to read books too.

Maybe more than I like wheels.

I read to GiGi and Hey Yea.

See the orange popsicle?

In Mamae's language, it's picole.

That word makes me smile every time I say it.

GiGi gave me some work.

These fuzzy sticks fit in the holes.

I worked hard.

Serious concentration drool.

    For every

single, green

 fuzzy one!

 Hey Yea and I worked together

after I showed him how. 

 

 

All through!

Hey Yea and I needed a break, so we went outside.

Mamae and GiGi say I have to wear my hat in the sun.

I didn't want to wear my hat, so guess what we did?

Inside is good.

 

Can you say car and truck and tractor?

I can!   

      Busy big boy

on a big-big couch.

I climbed up and down, up and down

all by myself.

       Papai says

bunda primera--bottom first.

Busy boys are blurry. 



 Hey Yea pushed me around in his big-big chair.

Old Guys Rule            

 Hey Yea and I took turns riding

in his big-big chair. 

 

 

 

 

Then it was 11:30 and we had lunch!

Busy boys need lots of food and at least one good nap.

That's what Mamae says.

 

 

 

BTW

When Papai came to get me,

he said he and Mamae had a good time together.

I don't know how they can have a good time without me,

but my GiGi said it's important for them to practice.

Mothers' Day

Mothers' Day Eve?
Saturday afternoon there were 12 pairs of feet under the table,
and that's always my best gift.
 

Cecilia celebrates her second Mother's Day.

Daniel always has to check Uncle Steve from a distance first.
(I think it's because Steve and Will look so much alike.)

But who can resist a warm hug.

HeyYea and Daniel
are tight buddies.

Mmmmm!

The guys did a great job of getting our meal together while Cecilia and I played in the back yard;
then they served themselves and sat down to eat.
Why are they laughing?
Notice the two empty placemats?!
Those would belong to the two mothers, of course!
;~)

 

Happy Mothers' Day!

MARCO! POLO!

May is here.

 

In Texas, that means (mostly) afternoon temperatures that drive us into the water somewhere.  And if kids are in a pool, chances are they'll be playing Marco Polo.  You know that water game, right?  One person is IT; with eyes closed, she tries to locate everyone else by calling out, "Marco!"  The other players are to reply "Polo!" while trying to keep from being found.  The last person to be located is IT and the game continues as long as little lungs can hold out.

POLO !  !  !

May is also the anniversary of the beginning of this blog.  Six years ago, I never would have guessed that By The Way would be anything more than a personal journal.  And yet, when I check the stats on the blogger dashboard, I wonder at the audience of BTW.  This blog pool covers 5 continents!

• US
• Canada
• Russia
• Romania
• Indonesia
• India
• Brazil
• Chile
• Germany
• Sweden
• Denmark
• Spain
• France
• Belgium
• UK
• Australia

I get it that family and friends in Brazil, Belgium, Sweden, and the US might check in once in awhile.  But the fact that more page views come from Russia than Brazil is quite surprising.  I'm intrigued.

So here's the deal.  Wanna' play Marco Polo?  I'm IT.  My eyes are closed.  I know there are lots of people in this blog pool with me.  When I holler (that's Texan for "call out" or "shout"), would you please respond?  I'd love to know who you are, where you live, how you found By The Way, why you visit, and/or any other info about yourself that you'd like to share.  Just leave a comment at the end of this post, please.

Okay, ready?

MARCO!

Divine Invitation

Yesterday when I glanced out the window into the back yard, there was this dandelion puff just begging me to grab my camera and head out to catch it in the late afternoon light.  I feel like it might have been a Divine Invitation to discover some benefit from being grounded from gardening for the past month.

See, one of my favorite ways to relax involves walking around my garden.  It may start with a cup of tea, but it usually ends with at least a small pile of uprooted villains who've invaded the soil since the last inspection.  I also look forward to intentional days set aside to don the duds and grab every tool in my bucket.  When I'm wearing a sun hat, Steve knows I've morphed into Conan the Agrarian.  My kind husband appears occasionally to offer water or food, because he knows I'm too immersed to stop or be sensible.

But lately, just walking out and wandering around is a taunting reminder of what I can't do.

 

Before my eye doctor ordered me to avoid bending, stooping, or lifting anything over 5 pounds, I would have snatched imposters out by the roots as soon as they poked their little green leaves from the mulch.  It's Spring in Texas, for goodness sake!  In the past 4 weeks, everything (for good or evil) in the garden has been growing, well--like a weed.  Rogue Bermuda grass competes with maddening shoots of nut grass for domination.  Clumpy clovers and lanky dandelions bloom and procreate all over the place.  I can almost hear their teasing echoes--"Hey, Garden Lady!  I'm here, and there's not a thing you can do about it!"  Yikes.

But yesterday, that dandelion was beckoning, just like a neon sign.  Yep, a Divine Invitation for sure.  If, for a time, I'm unable to bend or stoop, at least I can enjoy the intricacies of God's creation.  Even if it is a weed.

 

Everything has its own time,

and there is a specific time for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to pull out what was planted.

 

It is beautiful how God has done everything at the right time.

He has put a sense of eternity in people's minds.

                                                   Ecclesiastes 3:1-2, 11a

 

   Thanks for the invitation, God.

Pra Vovo Dora



I think a lot about Daniel's Grandmother in Brazil.  Vovo Dora is a long, long way from her daughter and grandson.  Sure, they get to Skype, but there's nothing that takes the place of real face time.

 

I hope these random pictures help ease their separation.

 

 

Vovo, here's my new play space at our apartment.

Going in!

Peek-a-Boo!

Vovo, here's my new booster seat.

I already had my lunch, but Texas barbecue is too good to pass up.

There's always something to see and touch
in GiGi's garden.

I get to help HeyYea feed all the birds.
GiGi told me that when I come to visit you,
I can feed monkeys.  Wow!

Bird seed feels really neat.

GiGi says I need a sandbox--whatever that is.

When I'm outside, I like to help a lot. 

This borboleta/butterfly is a wind chime.
When there's no breeze, I can still make it chime.

Plus, I can take it on a walk.

It's just the right size, and it makes music while I step.

Sometimes I protest when Papai has plans that I don't agree with.

These big colored buttons help me pretend when I'm cooking.
HeyYea thinks I might be a chef when I grow up.

Papai helps me figure out how to make my truck go.

Someday my legs will be longer and I'll make it go by myself.
Now it's fun to tuck my legs up and get a ride.

I can touch one foot on the floor.

The truck makes sounds when I push buttons on the dashboard.

Here's my snack.  We call it frutinha, right Vovo?! 

Papai lifts me up for a preview.
(My shirt is wet from drooling a lot.  There are a couple of teeth
that just won't break through yet.)

I'm studying GiGi's big black camera.
Vovo, can you see my birdbath and bird feeders just outside the window?
I can walk right up to the window to talk to the birds.

This camera is very interesting.

I just heard it beep and click!
And, by the way, my frutinha was really good.

Galveston Getaway: Galveston Tree Sculptures

Here's a video I made of a surprisingly emotional morning

spent exploring the historic East End of Galveston Island.

I can't really explain in words . . .

so please watch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Crow's Feet

Crow's Feet.

According to every website I've Googled, Crow's Feet are to be avoided at all monetary and physical costs.  Those tiny (and not so tiny) lines that radiate from the outer corners of the eyes are not just signs of too much sun, or smoking, or genes.  They are a horrifying badge of obsolescence:  old age.  *Cue the crickets, ticking clock, and creaking casket lid.*  Outrageous claims and prices abound from 'scientists' and aestheticians mercilessly preying on those who would rather be bankrupt or risk slight deformity than show a wrinkle, crinkle, or crepe.

Yes!  Inject botulism under your skin.  Nevermind that you most probably will exchange those crinkles for a smooth frozen stare that will scare your grandchildren right out of your arms.  And you'll need to keep after it just like that crabgrass in your garden.

Yes!  Purchase this serum--doesn't that sound more valuable than 'oil' or 'creme' (with an 'e'!).  It instantly erases (the appearance of) 'fine' lines.  Nevermind that you'll be right back in the same wrinkle as soon as you run out of serum, or money.

What's a little crinkling have to do with anything, really.  I don't think my home girl Heidi Klum would mind my pointing out that she shows the most adorable little Crow's Feet every time she smiles and waves goodbye to the designers on Project Runway.  They happen to the best of us.

Yes, I spent entirely too much time in the sun.  Before we knew sunbathing was dangerous and could precipitate deadly cancers, I trekked to the beach or the pool with abandon.  When I was little, my mother used to say, "You look a little pale.  Why don't you go out and get some sun?"  I still work in the yard every chance I get, but now that the cow's out of the barn, I grab a sun hat.  Yes, I smoked Benson and Hedges Menthol cigarettes in my 20's and 30's.  Who knew that along with looking 'cool,' I was also investing in receding gums and facial grooves?

But, hey--I've also spent the majority of my life with a smile on my face.  A big, open-mouthed, toothy grin if you must know.  I experience joy and peace that have bubbled up from a heart that was healed by The Great Physician.  God has given me dear, faithful friends . . . and a funny, loving husband . . . two healthy, bright sons . . . a new, kind daughter and a grandson who blows me totally off course.

Not long ago, I heard Cecilia walk in the door with Daniel.  There were whispers that I could barely make out as I stood at the kitchen sink.  "GiGi."  "Give them to GiGi."  Cecilia peeped around the corner and encouraged Daniel ahead.  He came toddling toward me in his red fleece aviator cap and puffy grey vest, cheeks rosy from the early spring breeze.  In his dimpled little fist, he was clutching a priceless bouquet of 4 delicate white flowers that he and C had harvested from the grass on their walk.  Actually it was 3 1/2 blooms by the time he reached up to me with a chubby-cheeked smile, called my name, and turned loose of his treasure.  The name of these flowers?

Crow's Feet.

Personally, I'm siding with Erma Bombeck.  I'd rather have laugh lines than worry warts.