While watching Charice’s perform “All by Myself” on Glee…

Arnold-Where is that girl from?

Me-I think she won Filipino American Idol or something like that.

Arnold-Oh yeah, Filinos love kareoke.

Me-Duh. “All by myself” is my Dad’s favorite song.

Arnold-(Chokes on drink giggling) Really?

Me-You didn’t know that? It’s on his favorite mix-tape. You know the one with “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash.

Arnold-Wha-?

Me-Yeah, cause he says he wants to be “All by Himself”

Arnold-Niiiiiiiiiice.

The Tagalog word for Grandpa is Lolo.  It’s a wonderful word for a child: easy to pronounce with repetitive syllables. Elian likes to replace L’s with LL’s (pronounced like a Y).  He has a deep-seeded commitment to his Colombian roots. So his beloved Lolo becomes Yoyo in his wondrous, exploding linguistic world.

Yoyo incidentally is a word taken from Tagalog.

Ah, linguistics, the more I know you, the more the world makes sense.

My Lolo died when I was quite young and my grandfather died when I was about 10 years old. It’s my hope that Elian will get to spend many, many years with his Yoyo. They are already off to a promising start of rice-eating competitions, fervent commitment to naps and a shared love of making funny faces.

You know just quality time with the fam.

My parents are here for the weekend so regular blogging will resume tomorrow.  Have a Happy Labor Day!

Last week my Mom came to help me take care of Elian while Arnold was in Colombia taking Carmen back home.  I can tell you Casa Perez will never be the same.  My parents usually come once a year to visit and fix stuff that is broken.  Well my Dad fixes things,  my Mom serves as toolman sous chef and in her free time sets her sights on one or two areas of untouched dust.

This time she was here a week and without my Dad to distract her with his need for tools and Indian Buffets my Mom was able to truly come into her own.  Armed with myriad cleaning supplies and a toddler with a small broom she cleaned things in my house that it has truly never even occurred to me to clean.

Sbux. Ck. Escoba. Ck.

Okay that’s a lie.  It occurs to me but I’m not really into cleaning.  I”m more of the organizing and sorting sort.  Do I like to sort stuff into matching and labeled boxes?  Yes!  Do I like to dust the shelf those boxes are on? No. No. No.

Anyways, it was awesssssssssssome.

Everyday I would come home from work to a happy as a clam toddler and an increasingly sanitized house.  Brandishing matching Grandma and Grandson cleaning implements they would show me their progress.  Bathtub cleaned.  Twice! Floors mopped. Top of wardrobes dusted. The plants are now alive.  Alive!   It really is a special kind of energy and enthusiasm that my Mom brings to the table. I once caught her washing the dishes at 4 am.  It’s the upside to insomnia don’t you know?

Tell me about the different genus' of sage Grandma!

Under Grandma’s careful tutelage Elian’s vocabulary exploded.  He added “Nutella (Tela) Mine (mia) and various other words to his vocabulary.  He also learned to climb in his high chair and feed himself with a spoon.  He is now an unrivaled expert on the importance of sunscreen.

After work each day I would come home wondering if perhaps she would’ve built on a 2nd bathroom during my workday or taught Elian french after naptime.  Exaggeratory?  Not by much.

There is one thing however that my Mom can’t do:  watch TV.  Faced with a night of leisurely television viewing my Mom falls apart.  She settles in contentedly to “relax” but like a shark the second she stops moving she becomes dead to the world.

I guess we all can’t be perfect.

Thank you Mommy.  We miss you!