(He really is happy to be there... he's just concentrating on the game.)
And the Game: Awesome! Phillies kicked the Rockies out of town in a shutout (7-0... yeah.)
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Pre-Game Tailgate and Phillies Game
And the Game: Awesome! Phillies kicked the Rockies out of town in a shutout (7-0... yeah.)
Monday, August 3, 2009
A Cemetery... at Night... and a 911 Call.
WARNING: this is a very sarcastic post.
Yesterday afternoon, Juan and I decided to go do some genealogy research at some cemeteries in Philadelphia; my grandmother had sent me some names of ancestors to search for (dating back to the 1800s) and some possible locations of their gravestones. We left around 6:30, hoping to be back home by 8:00 so we could chat with our families via webcam.
After arriving at the first place on our route, we realized it was not going to be that easy.
The church looked very abandoned and there was no way we were going to be able to get into the lot by driving, so we searched for a back entrance. We lucked out and found the alley that led to the back of the church. When we arrived to what was supposedly the grounds where my relatives' graves were, we saw nothing but a dense carpet of greenery. It was like a jungle in there. We searched and searched for any signs of graves, but it wasn't long before we knew there would be no way to tell unless we forged through the thick vines on foot. We weren't about to do that because we're not that adventurous, so we drove around the block until we found someone who looked "old-timey" enough to tell us where the cemetery was. He said that the city relocated a bunch of headstones to a different cemetery when he was a kid, probably about 60 years ago.
Just our luck.
Oh well, we had another cemetery to visit, so we got on our way. This is where the juicy part of the story begins...
We found the cemetery in good time and were surprised at how stately and well-maintained it was. We drove right on through the gates and started our search for the West, Shepherd, and Hudson family headstones. Juan spotted some Hudson and West gravestones pretty quickly and we excitedly copied the information and took pictures of the markers. After another 45 minutes of searching, we decided that it was going to get dark soon and we were hungry for dinner (we had eaten a late lunch.) Juan drove back through the cemetery the way we had entered and pulled up to the gate around 8:00 pm.
The gate was closed and someone had locked us in.
What do you do in a situation like that? Well, we decided there was probably another way out, so we drove around the vast grounds for another 15 minutes, until we realized there was NOT another exit. Next step: call the grounds office, as there was not a soul in sight (ha ha ha... cemetery... soul...!) After doing a Google search for the number on our cell phones (technology is amazing), we called and were answered with a voicemail machine. It was around this point in time that I started thinking that we were going to have to call 911, but Juan kept his cool. We drove back to the gate and spotted an alarm company sign, bearing a faded phone number. Juan called the number, and was told by the nice recorded voice that the line had been disconnected. We drove back to the office (which was closed until 9 the next morning) and found another alarm company sign with a different phone number. This proved to be more helpful and after Juan was answered by an actual person, we knew that it was a more promising possibility that we would break free from the cemetery that night. The operator told us that she would contact the curators and tell them the situation. She called back in 10 minutes and told us that they were sending someone right away.
So we waited. Patiently.
30 minutes later, we decided that they weren't coming, so we called the alarm company again. They tried calling the curator again; after another 10 minutes, they called us back and told us that someone had been sent 15 minutes ago to open the gate. Well, this was 45 minutes after the original phone call, so we were skeptical and getting more and more frustrated.
An hour had passed since the time we had pulled up to the gate, and the Chavez family was not in good spirits. What had started as a quick family search, was turning out to be a slew of sarcastic remarks. Luckily, Siena had remained calm the whole time... which was surprising because she was probably starving. While waiting, we had raided the little tupperware of cereal I keep in my bag for her. She was so kind to share with mami and papi, and she didn't complain when we sneaked another bite.
Eventually, we decided that we should call the Philadelphia Police Department, and after another Google search, we retreived that number (or what we thought to be that number.) A voice recording of Mayor Nutter's voice came on. No, that was NOT the Philadelphia Police Department's number. So we tried a different phone number. This time, someone answered, but he did not sound like he was in a big hurry to help. After asking us a lot of details about our story and situation, he told us that he couldn't do anything for us, but that he would transfer us to 911.
After all that, it just took a 911 call from the beginning?
Well, even that turned out to be fruitless. I was transferred from dispatcher to dispatcher, until the third time when someone finally decided to take on the "cemetery girl" assignment. The funny thing is that the dispatchers whom I had previously spoken with were still on the line, in our conversation. Ten minutes into our phone call, I started showing signs of my frustration over the phone. These two or three women were gettin' all up in my grill with questions like "Well, why didn't you tell someone you were going there?" (Like that would have made a difference. We did tell someone... our families... in Utah.) "Who do you think locked you in?" (The boogie man.) "Why would you even go inside a cemetery?" (And when I used the word 'ancestors', they didn't understand what that meant. When I finally used the word 'relatives', they started to catch on. Come on people, cemeteries are not just about ghosts and goblins.) "Didn't you see the sign with the Hours of Operation?" (No, there was NOT a sign ANYWHERE telling us that at if we weren't out by 8:00 pm, we would have to spend the night there. No signs, and nobody responsible enough to check to see if anyone was still inside the grounds before they locked the gates.) This was my favorite question: "Well, what are you doing in a cemetery so late at night?" (Uh, it's been an hour and 15 minutes since we went to leave the place. It wasn't late an hour and 15 minutes ago when they locked us in.) I was still answering ridiculous questions like this when out of nowhere, a man casually walked up to the gate with a key in his hand and unlocks the gate. No questions, no apologies, no explanations. He just opened the gate, and we drove out without a single exchange of words.
In the meantime, I had told the 911 ladies that I was going to set the whole cemetery on fire so someone would finally come to our rescue. And if that didn't work, I would probably call the local news.
Okay, I didn't really do that. But it was my next option.
Yesterday afternoon, Juan and I decided to go do some genealogy research at some cemeteries in Philadelphia; my grandmother had sent me some names of ancestors to search for (dating back to the 1800s) and some possible locations of their gravestones. We left around 6:30, hoping to be back home by 8:00 so we could chat with our families via webcam.
After arriving at the first place on our route, we realized it was not going to be that easy.
The church looked very abandoned and there was no way we were going to be able to get into the lot by driving, so we searched for a back entrance. We lucked out and found the alley that led to the back of the church. When we arrived to what was supposedly the grounds where my relatives' graves were, we saw nothing but a dense carpet of greenery. It was like a jungle in there. We searched and searched for any signs of graves, but it wasn't long before we knew there would be no way to tell unless we forged through the thick vines on foot. We weren't about to do that because we're not that adventurous, so we drove around the block until we found someone who looked "old-timey" enough to tell us where the cemetery was. He said that the city relocated a bunch of headstones to a different cemetery when he was a kid, probably about 60 years ago.
Just our luck.
Oh well, we had another cemetery to visit, so we got on our way. This is where the juicy part of the story begins...
We found the cemetery in good time and were surprised at how stately and well-maintained it was. We drove right on through the gates and started our search for the West, Shepherd, and Hudson family headstones. Juan spotted some Hudson and West gravestones pretty quickly and we excitedly copied the information and took pictures of the markers. After another 45 minutes of searching, we decided that it was going to get dark soon and we were hungry for dinner (we had eaten a late lunch.) Juan drove back through the cemetery the way we had entered and pulled up to the gate around 8:00 pm.
The gate was closed and someone had locked us in.
What do you do in a situation like that? Well, we decided there was probably another way out, so we drove around the vast grounds for another 15 minutes, until we realized there was NOT another exit. Next step: call the grounds office, as there was not a soul in sight (ha ha ha... cemetery... soul...!) After doing a Google search for the number on our cell phones (technology is amazing), we called and were answered with a voicemail machine. It was around this point in time that I started thinking that we were going to have to call 911, but Juan kept his cool. We drove back to the gate and spotted an alarm company sign, bearing a faded phone number. Juan called the number, and was told by the nice recorded voice that the line had been disconnected. We drove back to the office (which was closed until 9 the next morning) and found another alarm company sign with a different phone number. This proved to be more helpful and after Juan was answered by an actual person, we knew that it was a more promising possibility that we would break free from the cemetery that night. The operator told us that she would contact the curators and tell them the situation. She called back in 10 minutes and told us that they were sending someone right away.
So we waited. Patiently.
30 minutes later, we decided that they weren't coming, so we called the alarm company again. They tried calling the curator again; after another 10 minutes, they called us back and told us that someone had been sent 15 minutes ago to open the gate. Well, this was 45 minutes after the original phone call, so we were skeptical and getting more and more frustrated.
An hour had passed since the time we had pulled up to the gate, and the Chavez family was not in good spirits. What had started as a quick family search, was turning out to be a slew of sarcastic remarks. Luckily, Siena had remained calm the whole time... which was surprising because she was probably starving. While waiting, we had raided the little tupperware of cereal I keep in my bag for her. She was so kind to share with mami and papi, and she didn't complain when we sneaked another bite.
Eventually, we decided that we should call the Philadelphia Police Department, and after another Google search, we retreived that number (or what we thought to be that number.) A voice recording of Mayor Nutter's voice came on. No, that was NOT the Philadelphia Police Department's number. So we tried a different phone number. This time, someone answered, but he did not sound like he was in a big hurry to help. After asking us a lot of details about our story and situation, he told us that he couldn't do anything for us, but that he would transfer us to 911.
After all that, it just took a 911 call from the beginning?
Well, even that turned out to be fruitless. I was transferred from dispatcher to dispatcher, until the third time when someone finally decided to take on the "cemetery girl" assignment. The funny thing is that the dispatchers whom I had previously spoken with were still on the line, in our conversation. Ten minutes into our phone call, I started showing signs of my frustration over the phone. These two or three women were gettin' all up in my grill with questions like "Well, why didn't you tell someone you were going there?" (Like that would have made a difference. We did tell someone... our families... in Utah.) "Who do you think locked you in?" (The boogie man.) "Why would you even go inside a cemetery?" (And when I used the word 'ancestors', they didn't understand what that meant. When I finally used the word 'relatives', they started to catch on. Come on people, cemeteries are not just about ghosts and goblins.) "Didn't you see the sign with the Hours of Operation?" (No, there was NOT a sign ANYWHERE telling us that at if we weren't out by 8:00 pm, we would have to spend the night there. No signs, and nobody responsible enough to check to see if anyone was still inside the grounds before they locked the gates.) This was my favorite question: "Well, what are you doing in a cemetery so late at night?" (Uh, it's been an hour and 15 minutes since we went to leave the place. It wasn't late an hour and 15 minutes ago when they locked us in.) I was still answering ridiculous questions like this when out of nowhere, a man casually walked up to the gate with a key in his hand and unlocks the gate. No questions, no apologies, no explanations. He just opened the gate, and we drove out without a single exchange of words.
In the meantime, I had told the 911 ladies that I was going to set the whole cemetery on fire so someone would finally come to our rescue. And if that didn't work, I would probably call the local news.
Okay, I didn't really do that. But it was my next option.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Four days ago, my cousin unexpectedly passed away. After so many years since my last experience with death (I was 8 years old,) I found it difficult to interpret my emotions. After a lot of introspect and pondering on the subject, I feel to share my recent thoughts on our loss. For anyone who has recently, or even not-so-recently lost a loved one, I offer my empathy and hope that the scars from the pain are now beautiful reminders of life's lessons.
You can read about Jeff here and here. Please keep his family in your prayers and show love to your own because you never know when one's time here will come to an end.
You can read about Jeff here and here. Please keep his family in your prayers and show love to your own because you never know when one's time here will come to an end.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Zzzzzz
Lately, Siena has been getting out of bed after every nap and at bedtime to set up camp at the base of her door. This is how we know if she's asleep or not:
If the hand retracts after being poked, she's still awake; if it doesn't move, she's asleep.
If the hand retracts after being poked, she's still awake; if it doesn't move, she's asleep.Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Documented
We didn't photograph the growing belly at all when I was pregnant with Siena... and that was a conscious choice, it grossed me out.
Now, when people ask me if I am bigger or smaller with this child than with Siena, I don't know what to say because I honestly can't remember how tubby the tummy was with Siena.
So, without further ado... baby belly numero dos is documented at month 7:
Now, when people ask me if I am bigger or smaller with this child than with Siena, I don't know what to say because I honestly can't remember how tubby the tummy was with Siena.
So, without further ado... baby belly numero dos is documented at month 7:
Friday, July 24, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Projects, Projects!
I've been keeping busy the last few days, that's for sure. After finally deciding on a theme for Siena's birthday party, it's been non-stop "project-ing". It didn't help that I stumbled across this awesome tutorial online that shows you how to transform an old button-up shirt into a cute sundress. It just so happens that we were given a bag of button-up shirts (which Juan decided he did not want or need) and since we haven't yet taken them to the second-hand store, I'm going to use them to make dresses for Siena and a little girl in the Branch. I whipped one up yesterday morning (bloomers and all) and since it was so easy, I think I'll tackle about 5 more in the next couple of days. The shirts are all de-pocketed and ready to go and I can't wait to see how they turn out. These are poor-quality pictures, but it gives you an idea of what the project was. (Oh, and since I did bloomer capris out of the arms, I decided to shorten the dress into a top so the capris would peek out; the others I think I will mix up a bit.)
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Temporary Fix
So I think our camera is cursed... or the rechargeable batteries have kicked the bucket. Every time we take our camera out (re-filled with "charged" batteries,) it dies after 2 pictures. So we've opted to using our phone cameras rather than drive 3 blocks to buy new batteries. Blurry is better than nothing, I suppose.
Saturday's Game
e
For Juan's birthday, I decided to get him tickets to the Gold Cup Quarterfinals here in Philly. We left Siena with Kurt and Amber and had a much-needed date night. The first game was Honduras vs. Canada (2-0) and the second was U.S.A. vs. Panama (2-1 U.S. won on a penalty kick in double overtime.) Our seats were amazing, the energy of the stadium was high, and both teams we had rooted for WON... a successful birthday present, I think. After about 6 hours of two awesome futbol games, we headed home to pick up Siena, who had been having way too much fun with K & A. We owe you guys!
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Love Mornings Like This
Siena had awoken in the middle of the night because of a nightmare, so she was cuddled up to us this morning. Around 9-something (aahh... Saturdays), she woke up Juan by saying "Te amo Papi!" (I love you Dad). After some tickles and giggles, she leaned over to me and said "Te amo Mami" which woke sleepy-head-ME up. Then, as an itty-bitty family, we shared smiles and kisses and hugs all around. I can't remember a time when I was more content with life.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
I'm a Believer
If you haven't actually used a Magic Eraser, you probably have at least heard of it. I have wondered if it really works and tonight I became a believer.
We'll get back to that....
We've been confined to three and a half rooms in our home: our bedroom, Siena's bedroom, the kitchen, and the upstairs bathroom. Why? WE'RE FINALLY GETTING NEW CARPET! No more pet urine stains and their lingering smells. No more black socks or feet. No more ugly stains everywhere. They tore out the carpet in the main floor and the basement and will replace it with the new carpet on Monday. I can't wait!!
So, to prevent us all from going stir-crazy, we've tried to stay busy out-of-doors today.
We'll get back to that....
We've been confined to three and a half rooms in our home: our bedroom, Siena's bedroom, the kitchen, and the upstairs bathroom. Why? WE'RE FINALLY GETTING NEW CARPET! No more pet urine stains and their lingering smells. No more black socks or feet. No more ugly stains everywhere. They tore out the carpet in the main floor and the basement and will replace it with the new carpet on Monday. I can't wait!!
So, to prevent us all from going stir-crazy, we've tried to stay busy out-of-doors today.
- Went to a local Farmer's Market. Tried sugar plums for the first time... delish!
- Came home, changed into nice clothes, and went to the baptism of a young guy who has been coming to the Spanish Branch for a couple of months.
- Groceries and shoe shopping. (Believe it or not... the shoe shopping was not for me!)
- Came home. Hung pictures on the wall. Siena napped. Juan napped. Stacia sewed this little thing to keep Siena busy tomorrow during Sacrament Meeting: (sorry, another phone pic)
- Later, drove out to Penn's Landing for the Hispanic Festival. Ate good food and watched Siena dance to some awesome live Puerto Rican/Dominican music. (Will upload video of her shaking her booty later... maybe.)
- Came home to clean up a mural courtesy of Siena and a bolt/pen earlier this morning. THIS is where the Magic Eraser comes in to play. While we were shopping this afternoon, we saw it in the home cleaning aisle of Walmart and decided to try it out. (Okay, we went with the generic brand "[comparative] to the Magic Eraser".) Anyway, it really worked! Our walls are clean again!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
BOARDS
...that is such a scary word around this time of year for 3rd-year dental students and their families.
Luckily, Juan did a lot of studying these last couple of weeks and the dreaded written exam is OVER! He says he feels really good about how it went (not over-confident, but good,) and says that he wouldn't have changed anything about how he studied. That's some good news around this house. ;^)
So what did we do to celebrate when he got home from his exam? We ordered classic Chavez family take-out: Phở! (pronounced "Fuh?" as if you were asking a question.) Tooooooo yummy.
CONGRATS JUAN!
Luckily, Juan did a lot of studying these last couple of weeks and the dreaded written exam is OVER! He says he feels really good about how it went (not over-confident, but good,) and says that he wouldn't have changed anything about how he studied. That's some good news around this house. ;^)
So what did we do to celebrate when he got home from his exam? We ordered classic Chavez family take-out: Phở! (pronounced "Fuh?" as if you were asking a question.) Tooooooo yummy.
CONGRATS JUAN!
Tantrum Time
Simply put: Siena is pulling out the stops with tantrums lately. We're talking screaming at the TOP of her lungs, kicking, throwing stuff, hitting-- the very worst a 2 year-old can do. So what do I DO??!?!?!?!
Admittedly, I have no idea where to start because whenever I read all the parenting magazines, I skipped to the fun stuff like " Your Baby Can Crawl at 2 Months!" Now that we've hit the Oh-So-Renowned "Terrible Twos", I find myself trying my hardest to remember what they taught in my high school Child Development class...hmmmm... can't recall anything. Here are the methods I have tried, which do not seem to be working:
Admittedly, I have no idea where to start because whenever I read all the parenting magazines, I skipped to the fun stuff like " Your Baby Can Crawl at 2 Months!" Now that we've hit the Oh-So-Renowned "Terrible Twos", I find myself trying my hardest to remember what they taught in my high school Child Development class...hmmmm... can't recall anything. Here are the methods I have tried, which do not seem to be working:
- ignore it
- TIME OUT
- withhold a desired object as punishment
- TIME OUT
- bribe against it
- explain the situation calmly
- TIME OUT
- explain the situation harshly
- TIME OUT
- Copycat her performance (yeah, this definitely doesn't work)
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
4th... and so on...
Since I took pictures, I have reason enough to post about 4th of July. We didn't start the day with any plans whatsoever, but decided around 10:00 to take advantage of the things that were going on at Penn's Landing. Walking out of the subway, we caught the end of the parade... which we didn't expect to get to see at all. Then we went to the annual Ice Cream Festival--oh yeah, you heard me right. Once we got inside the tent, we were wondering if we would even get our money's worth because it was SO crowded; however, we figured out a system and by the time we left, we had eaten about 15 scoops of ice cream between the three of us.
We then walked over to the Betsy Ross house (how appropriate for the 4th,) and took the tour. We decided to keep walking and ended up visiting Christ's Church, the Friend's Quaker Meetinghouse, and the National Constitution Center. The last stop was really spectacular because they had a TON of tents and actors reinacting different armed forces from different wars. For example, there was an army doctor who gave a demonstration on how amputations were performed during the Civil War (Juan liked that one); there were women who shared stories of women's societies throughout wartime; and there were old-timey marines who explained their living circumstances during the early 19th century. It was a very interesting experience and you could tell that it had taken a lot of preparation for that event.
We left the Historic part of the city to travel to our part of the city, West Philadelphia--the slums we call home. After a nice restful rest of the afternoon, we drove back in to get a good spot to view the fireworks from the Franklin. We checked Google Maps and strategically planned out where to go so as not to hit traffic on the way back home. Luckily, that plan worked out for us and we found the perfect spot on the Schuykill River right near Boathouse Row. The view was spectacular: the cityscape, Franklin Museum, Boathouse Row and the River all in one photo. Loved the fireworks, but have to admit that they didn't equal those of the Stadium of Fire. That's okay, though, because if the city of Philadelphia is closing things like libraries because of funding, they probably should keep the "extras" like fireworks low-key, right? Anyway, the entire day was fun and when we eventually leave Philadelphia, we will not have regrets that we didn't take advantage of where we lived on the Fourth of July.
We then walked over to the Betsy Ross house (how appropriate for the 4th,) and took the tour. We decided to keep walking and ended up visiting Christ's Church, the Friend's Quaker Meetinghouse, and the National Constitution Center. The last stop was really spectacular because they had a TON of tents and actors reinacting different armed forces from different wars. For example, there was an army doctor who gave a demonstration on how amputations were performed during the Civil War (Juan liked that one); there were women who shared stories of women's societies throughout wartime; and there were old-timey marines who explained their living circumstances during the early 19th century. It was a very interesting experience and you could tell that it had taken a lot of preparation for that event.
We left the Historic part of the city to travel to our part of the city, West Philadelphia--the slums we call home. After a nice restful rest of the afternoon, we drove back in to get a good spot to view the fireworks from the Franklin. We checked Google Maps and strategically planned out where to go so as not to hit traffic on the way back home. Luckily, that plan worked out for us and we found the perfect spot on the Schuykill River right near Boathouse Row. The view was spectacular: the cityscape, Franklin Museum, Boathouse Row and the River all in one photo. Loved the fireworks, but have to admit that they didn't equal those of the Stadium of Fire. That's okay, though, because if the city of Philadelphia is closing things like libraries because of funding, they probably should keep the "extras" like fireworks low-key, right? Anyway, the entire day was fun and when we eventually leave Philadelphia, we will not have regrets that we didn't take advantage of where we lived on the Fourth of July.
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