Ferias (Vacation)

La Dolce Vita

La Dolce Vita


Conversations with Hank will be taking ferias (vacation) until New Year.
Hank is finally feeling better and we will spend this time catching up with friends and family, laughing hysterically and eating and eating and eating (it’s a Portuguese thing).

While we are away consider looking through our archives as we have over 950 conversations to keep you busy.  You have two archives to choose from: Theme and Month.  I like to scroll through the FAVORITES archive from time to time. All are located on the left hand side of our blog.

Thank you for your support, readership and for sharing your favorite conversation with others.  From our family to yours we wish you a restful, happy holiday season.



Diaper Denial

Our pretend Padaria (Bakery) which Molly calls her Cozinha (kitchen) House.

Our pretend Padaria (Bakery) which Molly calls her Cozinha (kitchen) House.


Me: (extreme bedhead, walking into the living room with my coffee)

Molly: (delighted) Mama!

Me: Moo-Moo!!

Molly: Cozinha (Kitchen) House!

Hank: (sitting and playing with his sister) That is what Amália calls the pretend padaria (bakery).

Me: (smiling, sipping my coffee) Makes sense.

Hank: That is technically what a padaria (bakery) is.

Molly: Pão (bread)! Yummy!

Me: (suddenly, smelling the smell, displeased)

Hank: (also smelling the smell) Amália?

Molly: (focused, playing, showing no outward signs) Mano (brother)?

Hank: Amália, did you poop?

Molly: (not looking up from her dolls) Não (no).

Me: (taking the rest of my coffee like a shot of whisky, preparing for battle) She’s lying.

Hank: Molly, you totally pooped.

Molly: (serious) Me, não (no). (holding out her tiny duck toy) Qua-Qua (quack-quack) pooped. Fuuuuuuuuu (making a face like something smells bad). Me no pooped. (shaking her head no) Me não (no).

Hank: I’ll get supplies. (rushing out of the room)

Me: Classic, move Amália. Blame a defenseless teenie-tiny duck. That’s low.

Molly: Qua-Qua pooped. (nodding yes)

Hank: (returning with a diaper and some wipes) Mama, is it me or does Molly poop a lot?

Me: Thank you for the diaper, buddy, and it isn’t you. Your sister is a supreme pooper.

Molly: Poop! (bouncing on her heels) Pão (bread)! (force feeding the teeny-tiny duck a baguette twice it’s size)

Me: I even asked our family doctor if pooping four times a day is normal.

Hank: FOUR! Four times. She poops four times a day.

Me: (nodding at the injustice) Most days. She says that it is perfectly normal and Molly is super healthy.

Hank: Goodness.

Me: Exactly. Ms. MaGoo?

Molly: (knowing what awaits her) Não (no).

Me: I will change the Qua-Qua (toy duck)’s diaper first, then it is your turn.

Molly: (delighted, nodding, offering up her teenie-tiny toy duck) Qua-Qua fralda SIM! (Duck diaper YES).

Me: Then you.

Molly: (defeated) Tá bem (okay).

Hank: (still in shock) Four times!

Me: (sitting cross legged on the floor changing an imaginary teenie-tiny duck’s diaper) Supreme POOPER!

Molly: POOPED!


We’ve Only Just Begun

conversations with hank


Me: Molly, do you want to try some of your milk?

Molly: (sitting next to me, holding a cup of milk only 1/5 of the way full, takes a pretend sip) Yum, yum!

Me: Oh, that was nice pretending. Can you try it for real? This milk is very, very yummy.

Molly: (pointing in the cup) Melk?

Me: Yes, that is milk.

Hank: (extreme bedhead) Good morning.

Molly: Gooooood morning, Mano. (pointing in her cup) Melk.

Hank: Oh, you’re drinking your milk in a cup?

Me: Molly is two. It is time to start adjusting away from a bottle.

Hank: Oh, that is hard.

Me: You were traumatized and didn’t drink milk out of spite for two years.

Hank: I love milk now.

Molly: (dipping her finger in her milk and tasting it) MMMmmmmm, yummy. Me queres (want) melk.

Me: Wonderful, try drinking this milk.

Molly: (shaking her head) No, me get down. Get down? Melk?

Me: We are drinking our milk in a cup today, Magooie.

Molly: (passing me the cup, toddling off the sofa)

Hank: Didn’t you make Tia Tippy (aunt) take my bottle away.

Me: I did. I couldn’t do it and you were almost three and I needed help. You had the worst tantrums…

Hank: I was a tantrum terrorist.

Me: (nodding) Your tantrums could last a solid hour and resulted in injury or vomiting so your Tia Tippy (aunt) and I formulated a plan. You went to her house for a whole week while you papa and I were packing and purging for our move to Portugal and she told you that I forgot to pack your bottles and you couldn’t have Cole’s (cousin) because those were for babies. It worked, you didn’t rage tantrum with her just standard three-anger tantruming.

Hank: I am worse with you and papa than with other people.

Me: Funny isn’t it, but completely true. This is also why I wasn’t invited on family holidays in Algarve until you were seven and even then your Tia and Avó (aunt and grandmother) mentioned you are much better behaved and less whinny when I don’t come to the beach so I left after a day.

Hank: That is why you left?

Me: Yup, plus I am not a real beach person. I don’t see the point. I am more a hike in the woods then jump in the lake kind of girl.

Molly: (looking up from a puzzle) Melk?

Me: (hopeful) This morning we are drinking our milk in a cup like water, like a big girl!

Hank: This will take a while.

Me: (singing) We’ve only just begun

Hank: Mom.

Me: … To live!
White lace and promises
A kiss for luck and we’re on our way
We’ve only begun.

Hank: Mom.

Me: (totally dancing to the beat of my own drummer)
Sharing horizons that are new to us
Watching the signs along the way
Talkin’ it over, just the two of us
Workin’ together day to day

Molly: (suspect)

Hank: Mom.

Me: Yes, this will take time.

Molly: (now delighted, clapping and laughing)

Me: And when the evening comes, we smile
So much of life ahead…

Hank: I’m going to make a chocolate milk.

Molly: MELK!

Me: Here, here is some milk.

Molly: Não quero (I don’t want).

Me: Harrumph.