To everyone, a good night. I hope your Christmas was as joy filled and happy as mine was. This is going to be short tonight as I am supposed to be packing for our trip tomorrow. We leave in less than 6 hours and I have not even started packing myself (though MadHatter and Stinkerbell are both finished, so I have accomplished something). I just had too much to do today and too much fun doing it, to tear myself away with such a mundane task as packing. But now Christmas is over - almost officially - until next year and I am focused on our 5 day trip to Patagonia. Very excited. So, off I go to finish packing before I get even less sleep! See you all in the new year...
Monday, December 26, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Yackity yak...
This is what it sounds like in my house when I decide to take a shower. Every, single, time...(and keep in mind, Stinkerbell is standing right outside the shower, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, looking at me through the glass door)...
Mom, are you naked? Naked, Mama? Are you naked? Are you going to shower? Will you get wet, Mama? Mama, are you wet yet? Did you get in? Are you in the shower Mama? Mom, are you in the shower, naked? Are you wet? Are you really wet? Mom, did you wash your hair? Are you peeing Mama? Why is there water like you are peeing? Did you pee in the shower Mama? That is bad. You shouldn't pee in the shower, Mama (btw - it's just water - she always thinks you are peeing. She thinks she is peeing when it happens to her too). Mama, I go play iPad. I'm playing iPad Mama. Good Job, Stinkerbell. Mama, it told me Good Job. I finished my puzzle Mama. Do you want to see my puzzle. Cows go Moooooo. My puzzle is a cow and cows go Mooooo. That's funny Mama. Isn't that funny. Are you done yet? Ok, I will play my puzzle. Oink. Oink. Oink. Are you done now? Done with your shower, Mama? Are you finished? When will you be done? Now? Are you done now?
And then, peacefully, there are about 20 seconds of silence while she thinks about whether she has to pee or if she is hungry, or if she just wants to play another game on the iPad...And then she is back.
Are you done yet Mama? (Covering her eyes) Peek-a-Boo...I scare you? No? I do it again...Peek-a-Boo. This time I scare you? Ok, I will go play my game. Why are you not smiling Mama? Showers are a happy things. Getting clean is fun. You're not having fun? Why Mama? Why you not having fun? You should be having fun. I have fun in the shower. I play with cups and drink lots of water. You can play with my cup Mama. It is the purple one. No touch the pink one. That is MadHatters. She gets mad when we touch her cup. No touch Mom. Ok? Is that soap Mama? The bubbles, are they soap? Did you wash your hair? Is that why there are so many bubbles? Mama, you washed your hair. Is it clean? Now, you done, right? Your hair is washed, so now you are done. Mama, can you hear me? Can you hear me Mama? You are not talking to me. Why are you not talking to me. Are you done? Did you get water in your ear? Can you hear me? Mamaaaaaaa...
I have now taken the world's fastest shower...less than 3 minutes...because I cannot stand to answer one more question that is asked of me. I am stepping out and it doesn't stop...
Mama, are you all done? You all done Mama? Are you wet? Do you need a towel? Will the towel make you dry? Are you all done? Are you ready to go Mama? Let's go Mama. I am ready to go....
Never - ever - wish for your child to talk. You will forever be wishing that they had never learned. I jest, but in the case of Stinkerbell it can be true. She has a gift for speaking...in two languages none-the-less. And she is not even 2 1/2. I can only imagine what she will be like as a teenager. But by then, I will be able to lock the bathroom door and take my shower in silent peace.
Mom, are you naked? Naked, Mama? Are you naked? Are you going to shower? Will you get wet, Mama? Mama, are you wet yet? Did you get in? Are you in the shower Mama? Mom, are you in the shower, naked? Are you wet? Are you really wet? Mom, did you wash your hair? Are you peeing Mama? Why is there water like you are peeing? Did you pee in the shower Mama? That is bad. You shouldn't pee in the shower, Mama (btw - it's just water - she always thinks you are peeing. She thinks she is peeing when it happens to her too). Mama, I go play iPad. I'm playing iPad Mama. Good Job, Stinkerbell. Mama, it told me Good Job. I finished my puzzle Mama. Do you want to see my puzzle. Cows go Moooooo. My puzzle is a cow and cows go Mooooo. That's funny Mama. Isn't that funny. Are you done yet? Ok, I will play my puzzle. Oink. Oink. Oink. Are you done now? Done with your shower, Mama? Are you finished? When will you be done? Now? Are you done now?
And then, peacefully, there are about 20 seconds of silence while she thinks about whether she has to pee or if she is hungry, or if she just wants to play another game on the iPad...And then she is back.
Are you done yet Mama? (Covering her eyes) Peek-a-Boo...I scare you? No? I do it again...Peek-a-Boo. This time I scare you? Ok, I will go play my game. Why are you not smiling Mama? Showers are a happy things. Getting clean is fun. You're not having fun? Why Mama? Why you not having fun? You should be having fun. I have fun in the shower. I play with cups and drink lots of water. You can play with my cup Mama. It is the purple one. No touch the pink one. That is MadHatters. She gets mad when we touch her cup. No touch Mom. Ok? Is that soap Mama? The bubbles, are they soap? Did you wash your hair? Is that why there are so many bubbles? Mama, you washed your hair. Is it clean? Now, you done, right? Your hair is washed, so now you are done. Mama, can you hear me? Can you hear me Mama? You are not talking to me. Why are you not talking to me. Are you done? Did you get water in your ear? Can you hear me? Mamaaaaaaa...
I have now taken the world's fastest shower...less than 3 minutes...because I cannot stand to answer one more question that is asked of me. I am stepping out and it doesn't stop...
Mama, are you all done? You all done Mama? Are you wet? Do you need a towel? Will the towel make you dry? Are you all done? Are you ready to go Mama? Let's go Mama. I am ready to go....
Never - ever - wish for your child to talk. You will forever be wishing that they had never learned. I jest, but in the case of Stinkerbell it can be true. She has a gift for speaking...in two languages none-the-less. And she is not even 2 1/2. I can only imagine what she will be like as a teenager. But by then, I will be able to lock the bathroom door and take my shower in silent peace.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Home for the Holidays
For the past month or so, everyone I talk with (expat and local alike) asks me the same question, "Are you going home for the holiday's"? On the surface it seems like such a simple question. Heck, it's a yes/no question, they don't get much simpler than that. But for me, and my family, it is a loaded question. One that isn't as black and white as yes or no. I answer by saying, "We are celebrating the holiday's here in Chile with my parents and oldest brother" and leave it at that. It answers their question but it doesn't answer the ones that are now swirling through my brain - Would travelling back to the U.S. be considered going home, even though we don't have a home there? Or is celebrating at our house here in Chile considered staying home for the holiday's? Can I really call a place that I am still working on assimilating, home? On the other hand, can I call a place I have lived in but no longer have any ties to, home? This one simple question that I have heard so many times in the past few weeks has gotten me thinking about how I define home and where that might be for me and my family.
Almost all of the expats (U.S., Peruvian, Venezuelan, Australian, Argentinian...) I have met while living in Chile are truly going home for the holiday's. They are headed to places where they have an extended family and many close friends. They are returning to childhood houses, scheduling meet ups with grade school/high school/college friends and will revisit places where memories of a lifetime will surround them. Even if they have moved many times since leaving their parents houses, most of them still have a place that they always return to, the place they consider their home base. There is no ambiguity to the word home for them. Simply saying the word conjures up a specific image for them - a house in which they spent their formative years, a city that they grew up in (even though houses may have changed), and for others it is not the place they grew up, but rather an adopted city that they have been living in for so many years they have lost count. The point is, they don't have to hesitate one millisecond when asked where their home is. They know and have always known. But it isn't that easy for me and I have never really thought about it until now.
Why now? Not that much has changed for me - well, I do live on another continent now - but even that is not new to me. I move. I move a lot. In all, I have called a total of 10 different places home in my lifetime. And that is not just houses moved, that is times I have picked up all of my belongings and carted them more than 500 miles (I don't count moves of under 250 miles to be a move - that is just changing scenery). If you do the math, that means I have moved once every 3.9 years. Count in the fact that I spent 10 years in one of those places and it means I have unpacked more boxes than some military personnel. It also brings my average time in one spot down to 3.22222 years. (Add in the houses I have moved within cities while living there and that number goes down drastically). That's a lot of moving people.
For a long time I would have told you that my home was Peoria (and I still do if I just want to get off the topic and not have to tell a very. long. story.) In fact, this is the place I spent my formative years. In essence, I grew up there. I went to grade school, I finished high school and I moved on to college just like many other people. But here is where it gets tricky. My parents were moved right as I was heading out of high school and into college. I was leaving home - and so were they - and I was never going to get the chance to go back. When I packed up to go to college, my parents were also packing to move to their next assignment. There would be no visiting with friends on Christmas break. There would be no impromptu get togethers at Easter to discuss how our new lives were going. No summers of goofing off and enjoying the freedom that is afforded you at 18, 19, 20... If I wanted to see my friends, we had to make special plans...outside of the holidays, because those were reserved for family, and mine no longer lived in the same place as theirs did. As I had moved away from home, home had moved away too.
And this was to continue. Until my dad retired. My "home base" kept shifting. My parents moved 6 times in 12 years. They moved to two different countries, and 4 different states. And each time, when someone asked me if I was going home for the holidays, the answer was always a resounding yes. No hesitation. I still associated home with my parents. I associated it with wherever my family was at the time, even if I had never set foot in the house they lived in before. That was still home, because it was were my heart and soul were. Without my parents to ground me, I was just floundering in the world, pretending that I was a grown up. I needed to touch base every once in awhile to remember who I was and where I came from. Remember, I was moving around just as much as they were and was a bit lost myself. They, and their ever moving homes, provided me with the knowledge that even though you didn't recognize the surroundings, as long as family was there, you were home.
And then I got married and had kids. Everything changed. Not only did I have a family of my own, but now I had to provide that same sense of belonging for my kids. Infants that were counting on me to make them feel safe, feel loved, feel like they were home. And it was easy for the first 3 years. We had adopted California quickly. In fact, it is the one place that felt like home the minute I set foot on land. There was no adjustment, there was no breaking in. I was just home. And by then the question had changed to, "Are you staying home for the holidays"? And I could answer, "Nope, we are headed to my parents house to celebrate". Their house was no longer home to me, but it was a gathering point. The whole family traveled to one spot, spent the holiday's and then went to their respective homes until it was time to do it again. But for the first time EVER in my life, I will be spending the Christmas holiday in the home I currently reside in. For the very first time I will not have to pack presents or have them shipped (or have someone else do it for me as I was too young), I will not have to pack a suitcase, I don't have to think that putting up the tree is a waste of time since no one will be around to enjoy it come mid-December. I will be waking up on Christmas morning surrounded by my own things, in the home I live in for the First. Time. Ever. (and I mean ever - not just since I have been an adult). I did not do this as a child since we either had to head back to the states for home leave or if we were already states side, we headed to Wisconsin where the extended family was.
So, will I be heading home for the holiday's? Nope. I am already home and I am staying put. For once in my life at least I will be in my own home for the holidays.
Almost all of the expats (U.S., Peruvian, Venezuelan, Australian, Argentinian...) I have met while living in Chile are truly going home for the holiday's. They are headed to places where they have an extended family and many close friends. They are returning to childhood houses, scheduling meet ups with grade school/high school/college friends and will revisit places where memories of a lifetime will surround them. Even if they have moved many times since leaving their parents houses, most of them still have a place that they always return to, the place they consider their home base. There is no ambiguity to the word home for them. Simply saying the word conjures up a specific image for them - a house in which they spent their formative years, a city that they grew up in (even though houses may have changed), and for others it is not the place they grew up, but rather an adopted city that they have been living in for so many years they have lost count. The point is, they don't have to hesitate one millisecond when asked where their home is. They know and have always known. But it isn't that easy for me and I have never really thought about it until now.
Why now? Not that much has changed for me - well, I do live on another continent now - but even that is not new to me. I move. I move a lot. In all, I have called a total of 10 different places home in my lifetime. And that is not just houses moved, that is times I have picked up all of my belongings and carted them more than 500 miles (I don't count moves of under 250 miles to be a move - that is just changing scenery). If you do the math, that means I have moved once every 3.9 years. Count in the fact that I spent 10 years in one of those places and it means I have unpacked more boxes than some military personnel. It also brings my average time in one spot down to 3.22222 years. (Add in the houses I have moved within cities while living there and that number goes down drastically). That's a lot of moving people.
For a long time I would have told you that my home was Peoria (and I still do if I just want to get off the topic and not have to tell a very. long. story.) In fact, this is the place I spent my formative years. In essence, I grew up there. I went to grade school, I finished high school and I moved on to college just like many other people. But here is where it gets tricky. My parents were moved right as I was heading out of high school and into college. I was leaving home - and so were they - and I was never going to get the chance to go back. When I packed up to go to college, my parents were also packing to move to their next assignment. There would be no visiting with friends on Christmas break. There would be no impromptu get togethers at Easter to discuss how our new lives were going. No summers of goofing off and enjoying the freedom that is afforded you at 18, 19, 20... If I wanted to see my friends, we had to make special plans...outside of the holidays, because those were reserved for family, and mine no longer lived in the same place as theirs did. As I had moved away from home, home had moved away too.
And this was to continue. Until my dad retired. My "home base" kept shifting. My parents moved 6 times in 12 years. They moved to two different countries, and 4 different states. And each time, when someone asked me if I was going home for the holidays, the answer was always a resounding yes. No hesitation. I still associated home with my parents. I associated it with wherever my family was at the time, even if I had never set foot in the house they lived in before. That was still home, because it was were my heart and soul were. Without my parents to ground me, I was just floundering in the world, pretending that I was a grown up. I needed to touch base every once in awhile to remember who I was and where I came from. Remember, I was moving around just as much as they were and was a bit lost myself. They, and their ever moving homes, provided me with the knowledge that even though you didn't recognize the surroundings, as long as family was there, you were home.
And then I got married and had kids. Everything changed. Not only did I have a family of my own, but now I had to provide that same sense of belonging for my kids. Infants that were counting on me to make them feel safe, feel loved, feel like they were home. And it was easy for the first 3 years. We had adopted California quickly. In fact, it is the one place that felt like home the minute I set foot on land. There was no adjustment, there was no breaking in. I was just home. And by then the question had changed to, "Are you staying home for the holidays"? And I could answer, "Nope, we are headed to my parents house to celebrate". Their house was no longer home to me, but it was a gathering point. The whole family traveled to one spot, spent the holiday's and then went to their respective homes until it was time to do it again. But for the first time EVER in my life, I will be spending the Christmas holiday in the home I currently reside in. For the very first time I will not have to pack presents or have them shipped (or have someone else do it for me as I was too young), I will not have to pack a suitcase, I don't have to think that putting up the tree is a waste of time since no one will be around to enjoy it come mid-December. I will be waking up on Christmas morning surrounded by my own things, in the home I live in for the First. Time. Ever. (and I mean ever - not just since I have been an adult). I did not do this as a child since we either had to head back to the states for home leave or if we were already states side, we headed to Wisconsin where the extended family was.
So, will I be heading home for the holiday's? Nope. I am already home and I am staying put. For once in my life at least I will be in my own home for the holidays.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
A Picture with Santa
Classic, right? But who can blame her? We tell her all year not to talk to strangers, to make a fuss if someone she doesn't know is doing something she isn't comfortable with and to use her judgement when it comes to new people that she has just met. And then for one day, we tell her to forget all that, and plop her on a strangers lap, say that she should tell him what she wants for Christmas and smile all the while she is doing it. But this is Santa you say. I know you don't know him, but trust me, he is a good guy. Trust you, my foot...Remember that fuss you told me to make if I wasn't comfortable with what someone was doing...Here you go!
But we did discover a new way to make Stinkerbell behave. We tell her if she doesn't behave, we will take her back and make her sit on Santa's lap again...And it stops her cold. A little wrong maybe, but whatever works...
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Wants vs. Needs
I have engaged in this debate more times than I have even thought humanly possible in a life time. And I will do it untold times in the future. And yet, for as many times as I have battled, I still have a hard time distinguishing between a want and a need, especially as the Holiday season draws nearer. Especially since I am the type of person that wants to buy my friends and family everything they wish for. Sometimes the line can get a little fuzzy, but at other times, it is so amazingly clear...
Want - new shoes that make my calves look long and slim (instead of muscular from running). Preferably with high heels and red soles.
Need - new running shoes or any shoes to keep my feet from being unshod in public places.
Want - latest cell phone technology to keep me in the loop with all of my friends. Especially since majority of said friends live on another continent.
Need - cell phone to keep me safe when it finally happens that one of these crazy Chilean drivers hits me, and they begin ranting at me in very rapid Chilean Spanish (and yes, this is different than Spanish). I just need to be able to call someone - anyone - that can translate for me.
Want - one, just one, lens for my new camera that can become my walking around lens. Right now I have very specific lenses, that take very specific shots and it means switching lenses. A lot.
Need - well, honestly, I have the camera (which was a want, more than a need) so I can't justify anything.
Want - a safe, secure home.
Need - a safe secure home. (Sometimes there just is no line).
Want - my girls to believe in Santa and all the magic that it brings in this month leading up to the holiday's. I want them to behave because if they don't, Santa won't bring them any gifts (is there an emptier threat, anywhere?).
Need - my girls to know the true meaning of Christmas, that there is just as much magic in giving as there is in receiving, to know that when it all comes down to the nitty gritty, that even if we didn't have Christmas, we would have each other and that is enough.
I could go on and on. We all could. We make lists this time of year to send to Santa, to send to family, to keep on our computers because we just can't find the time, or even remember, to give them to anyone. They are lists of wants. Very rare is the list that states "All I need is enough food to feed my family, enough money to pay for a roof over my head, and a job that makes this all possible". I don't think I have ever made a list of things I need. Because I don't think in all of my years of being on this earth, I have ever experience true need. Oh, as a teenager, I bet I could have made a long, drawn out case about how I "needed" this or that. In reality, I have been blessed. This life has given me more than I could ever have wished for on any list.
So the next time you hear me complain about something, remind me of all that I have. All that I have had and all that I will have. Remind me that it is about health, not wealth. It is about redemption, not exception. It is about contrition, not acquisition.
I am so truly blessed this holiday season. Because I have my health, I have my family and I have a roof over my head. I have love, I have faith and I have two little girls that remind me every day that I. Have. It. All. But I still have a Christmas list if you would like to see it...
Want - new shoes that make my calves look long and slim (instead of muscular from running). Preferably with high heels and red soles.
Need - new running shoes or any shoes to keep my feet from being unshod in public places.
Want - latest cell phone technology to keep me in the loop with all of my friends. Especially since majority of said friends live on another continent.
Need - cell phone to keep me safe when it finally happens that one of these crazy Chilean drivers hits me, and they begin ranting at me in very rapid Chilean Spanish (and yes, this is different than Spanish). I just need to be able to call someone - anyone - that can translate for me.
Want - one, just one, lens for my new camera that can become my walking around lens. Right now I have very specific lenses, that take very specific shots and it means switching lenses. A lot.
Need - well, honestly, I have the camera (which was a want, more than a need) so I can't justify anything.
Want - a safe, secure home.
Need - a safe secure home. (Sometimes there just is no line).
Want - my girls to believe in Santa and all the magic that it brings in this month leading up to the holiday's. I want them to behave because if they don't, Santa won't bring them any gifts (is there an emptier threat, anywhere?).
Need - my girls to know the true meaning of Christmas, that there is just as much magic in giving as there is in receiving, to know that when it all comes down to the nitty gritty, that even if we didn't have Christmas, we would have each other and that is enough.
I could go on and on. We all could. We make lists this time of year to send to Santa, to send to family, to keep on our computers because we just can't find the time, or even remember, to give them to anyone. They are lists of wants. Very rare is the list that states "All I need is enough food to feed my family, enough money to pay for a roof over my head, and a job that makes this all possible". I don't think I have ever made a list of things I need. Because I don't think in all of my years of being on this earth, I have ever experience true need. Oh, as a teenager, I bet I could have made a long, drawn out case about how I "needed" this or that. In reality, I have been blessed. This life has given me more than I could ever have wished for on any list.
So the next time you hear me complain about something, remind me of all that I have. All that I have had and all that I will have. Remind me that it is about health, not wealth. It is about redemption, not exception. It is about contrition, not acquisition.
I am so truly blessed this holiday season. Because I have my health, I have my family and I have a roof over my head. I have love, I have faith and I have two little girls that remind me every day that I. Have. It. All. But I still have a Christmas list if you would like to see it...
Thursday, December 1, 2011
S.A.D.
I feel like I have Seasonal Affective Disorder...but in reverse. SAD is supposed to hit you when the days start shortening and the weather turns a bit colder and you feel like you just want to hole up in your house, in front of the fire, and never move. Not that this is all bad. But the symptoms of SAD - overeating carbohydrates, sleeping too much, becoming lethargic - now those are not good. The experts attribute it to the shorter daylight hours and the cold weather and have found that the further you live from the equator, the worse it's affects can be. So why, when we are just coming out of all this "short days, dreary weather" am I feeling it now?
Perhaps it is because I have endured 2 winters back to back and it is just going to take me a bit longer to shake the doldrums that come from being shut inside for almost a year. We will have to see. But I wonder, why then, it didn't hit me during the beginning of my second fall in a row? In April, my body was just getting ready for the warm spring breezes and outdoor play and my kids were gearing up for pool season, and suddenly we moved to the South Pole. OK, not really, but we got pretty close. We went from blooming trees to dying leaves. From late afternoon park days to having play called due to darkness. Again.
And I think the majority of it, and why it has hit me so suddenly this week, is the fact that we are in the throes of the holiday season - in summer. In fact, just days before Christmas we will hit the Summer Solstice. It will be our longest day of the year. It will be very warm. And it will be very odd. And I think anyone who grew up north of the equator would agree with me. I have spent almost 40 years celebrating the Holidays (and yes, they do deserve to be capitalized - they are important) with the changing of the seasons...and with that I mean from fall to winter (not this Spring to Summer thing they have going on down here). Sweaters and boots signaled the start of the season - not bikinis and flip flops. Alas, it is 90 degrees here now and I am finding it a bit hard to get in the Christmas spirit. And I think this may be the root of my problems. I pulled out my Christmas decorations only to find it full of things that signify winter...A pair of ski's to hang upon my door. A flocked tree to put next to the entrance to my home. Snowmen and nutcrackers. Heavy velvet stockings. All things we associate with winter. And it is 90 degrees outside my door. One of these things is not like the others, One of these things does not belong...
So, as we are hitting our late Spring stride and skipping our way into the beautiful, smog free weather that is summer here in the Southern Hemisphere, I am a bit depressed. Not depressed, depressed. Just a bit, well, SAD. But it doesn't last long. Do you know why? How can you be sad when this is the joy that your children feel because it is summer in December? This type of joy- the drinking from the garden hose, splashing a bucket full of water over your sisters head, and romping with your dog in the backyard variety - is contagious. It just makes me a little less S.A.D.
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| Testing the temperature! With an air temperature of 90, it can never be too cold. |
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| Dulce doesn't mind MadHatter's seconds. |
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| After satiating our thirst, they are finally filling the pool. |
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Double Whammy
Yesterday was a Double Whammy. And in a good way. First, the girls got to decorate their own personal Christmas trees (a tradition I think we will continue from here on out). They had a blast, I had a blast and we now have a bit more Christmas cheer in the house. Which could use it, since it is 90 degrees outside and it is feeling a bit more like time to head to the beach, than time to celebrate the holidays.
And then, right in the middle of all of our fun - things got even better! B's cousin (who is more like a brother) showed up and spent a few precious hours with us and the girls. How much better can the day get???
It got better when Andres pulled out presents for the girls! They will probably not take out their new earrings until Dani and Andres come back to see us again. The girls loved them and we thank you for making them so happy just by being you! (Well, Stinkerbell did warm up towards the end at least).
Double Whammy? Double Blessed!
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Appreciating the Theater
B and I have always been huge movie buffs. When we were dating, not a week would go by that we wouldn't be found in a theater, popcorn and candy in hand, getting lost in a new reality for just a few hours. We loved the feeling of being surrounded by the visuals, the sound, the general ambiance that took you so far away from the day to day of real life. It was a treat. One that we have sorely missed for the past couple of years. Yes, I said years. The last movie we were able to get to the theater to see was the Bourne Ultimatum. Yes folks, that was circa July 2007. A little over 4 years ago.
Don't get me wrong. We have watched a lot of movies since then. But not one of them has been in the theater, and only a handful of them have been geared to anyone over the age of 7. It happens to the best of us when we have kids. When you have kids and live in California, seeing a movie becomes very expensive. When you have to pay a sitter, it is just ridiculous. At the going rate of $20 an hour for the sitter (avg. 3 hours necessary to see a movie), ticket prices (around $10 per adult) and a snack from the concession ($15 on average for popcorn and 2 waters), we have just spent over $90 to get to the movies. Seems a bit excessive and you can imagine why we just never did it.
So, we had to Netflix our movies for awhile, and sometimes we would stream one on the computer. B would catch up on fairly recent releases on his flights around the country. And mostly, we would just say that we really should go to the theater, darned the cost, but we just couldn't bring ourselves to do it. Until last night. And what a way to be reintroduced to the theater experience.
Our good friends, A and G, invited us to see Amanecer (Breaking Dawn, Part One). I am a closet Twilight freak (guess not so closet anymore) and I couldn't resist. B has indulged my weakness and when I bought all three of the first movies, he patiently sat on the couch next to me and watched them...consecutively. So, at least I didn't have to beg and plead to get him to come with us. But I digress...
This post isn't really about the movie itself but the wonderful, top notch movie theater experience here in Santiago. Seriously, I have either been really out of the loop and this is just the norm now, or Hoyts is just a step above. Sure, they have their regular theater. You pay for your ticket, you get your seat, and it's pretty much the same as anywhere else in the world (although, even in their regular theaters, you get assigned seating - more on that later). But then there is Hoyts Premium Class.
We are greeted by what looks like the front desk at a waiting lounge in a large airport. Movie times are scrolling on the big screen t.v.'s and there is a concierge there to answer any questions you may have. Since we were a bit early for our movie, they told us to wait. So we did. In here...
It looks and feels like the waiting area in a very upscale restaurant. Large leather seats, low coffee tables, couches for creating intimate areas. There is a menu of teas, juices and sodas, which seems pretty standard, but they also have Sushi, burgers, sandwiches and the usual fare of popcorn and candy. (Though if you order the popcorn beware, they don't eat it with salt here, they eat it with sugar). So we ordered some drinks, but we had just finished dinner, so we decided to put off the snacks until movie time.
After relaxing for about 20 minutes, we headed in to get our seats since the movie was scheduled to start in a couple of minutes. And it was so nice to not have to rush to make sure we got a great seat, or at least one we could live with. I mentioned above that you have assigned seating. And I. Love. This. When you get your tickets (whether online or in person) they will ask you to choose a seat. They show you a chart of the sala (room) you will be in and let you know what seats are available. I think this is one of my favorite things about the whole experience. There is no having to get to the theater an hour ahead so that you can all sit together. You don't have to worry about if you are going to be too close to the screen - or too far- depending on your preference. It takes a lot of stress out of going to see a popular movie that just opened.
And finally, you are in the theater. You don't simply have a seat, you have a personal leather lounger, complete with table tray, drink holder and movable armrest between two seats so you can turn it into a sofa. It is heaven. We instantly flipped up the armrest, tucked our feet up and got cozy. The only thing missing was a blanket and I would have felt like I was on my couch back home. Come to think of it, next time I should bring the blanket.
And you have personal waiters walking the aisles serving the same menu they had out in the lounge area. No need to run out if you want popcorn halfway through the movie (which the boys did), you have them bring it to you. If you want to have dinner and a movie, why not just have dinner AT the movie. A bit hard to see in the dark, but still a very appealing option. And you have space. So much space. Kind of ironic when you think about the lack of respect for personal space here in Chile, but it was a nice surprise.
An even nicer surprice - it didn't cost a fortune. Tickets are a bit pricier here in the Premium Class but overall tickets are about the same as they are in the U.S. At least in California. An average ticket for a Saturday night screening is 4800 CLP (about $9.00). Premium class will run you 7000 CLP (about $13). Not cheap, not ridiculous. And when you stop to consider that I don't have to pay the babysitter and the concessions in Chile are much cheaper than the U.S., the total for the night would only run about $30-$35.
It was a great experience and one B and I are sure to repeat many times while we are here and are afforded the luxury of having a built in babysitter at home. We can get back to doing one of the things we love to do together and now we can do it in style. I could get used to this!
P.S. The movie was good - but I think the final one will be better. Like my friend A said - they had too much material for one movie but not quite enough for two. This is the chick flick of the two - the next will be fighting all around (at least that is what I am telling B so he will come with me again).
Don't get me wrong. We have watched a lot of movies since then. But not one of them has been in the theater, and only a handful of them have been geared to anyone over the age of 7. It happens to the best of us when we have kids. When you have kids and live in California, seeing a movie becomes very expensive. When you have to pay a sitter, it is just ridiculous. At the going rate of $20 an hour for the sitter (avg. 3 hours necessary to see a movie), ticket prices (around $10 per adult) and a snack from the concession ($15 on average for popcorn and 2 waters), we have just spent over $90 to get to the movies. Seems a bit excessive and you can imagine why we just never did it.
So, we had to Netflix our movies for awhile, and sometimes we would stream one on the computer. B would catch up on fairly recent releases on his flights around the country. And mostly, we would just say that we really should go to the theater, darned the cost, but we just couldn't bring ourselves to do it. Until last night. And what a way to be reintroduced to the theater experience.
Our good friends, A and G, invited us to see Amanecer (Breaking Dawn, Part One). I am a closet Twilight freak (guess not so closet anymore) and I couldn't resist. B has indulged my weakness and when I bought all three of the first movies, he patiently sat on the couch next to me and watched them...consecutively. So, at least I didn't have to beg and plead to get him to come with us. But I digress...
This post isn't really about the movie itself but the wonderful, top notch movie theater experience here in Santiago. Seriously, I have either been really out of the loop and this is just the norm now, or Hoyts is just a step above. Sure, they have their regular theater. You pay for your ticket, you get your seat, and it's pretty much the same as anywhere else in the world (although, even in their regular theaters, you get assigned seating - more on that later). But then there is Hoyts Premium Class.
We are greeted by what looks like the front desk at a waiting lounge in a large airport. Movie times are scrolling on the big screen t.v.'s and there is a concierge there to answer any questions you may have. Since we were a bit early for our movie, they told us to wait. So we did. In here...
It looks and feels like the waiting area in a very upscale restaurant. Large leather seats, low coffee tables, couches for creating intimate areas. There is a menu of teas, juices and sodas, which seems pretty standard, but they also have Sushi, burgers, sandwiches and the usual fare of popcorn and candy. (Though if you order the popcorn beware, they don't eat it with salt here, they eat it with sugar). So we ordered some drinks, but we had just finished dinner, so we decided to put off the snacks until movie time.
After relaxing for about 20 minutes, we headed in to get our seats since the movie was scheduled to start in a couple of minutes. And it was so nice to not have to rush to make sure we got a great seat, or at least one we could live with. I mentioned above that you have assigned seating. And I. Love. This. When you get your tickets (whether online or in person) they will ask you to choose a seat. They show you a chart of the sala (room) you will be in and let you know what seats are available. I think this is one of my favorite things about the whole experience. There is no having to get to the theater an hour ahead so that you can all sit together. You don't have to worry about if you are going to be too close to the screen - or too far- depending on your preference. It takes a lot of stress out of going to see a popular movie that just opened.
And finally, you are in the theater. You don't simply have a seat, you have a personal leather lounger, complete with table tray, drink holder and movable armrest between two seats so you can turn it into a sofa. It is heaven. We instantly flipped up the armrest, tucked our feet up and got cozy. The only thing missing was a blanket and I would have felt like I was on my couch back home. Come to think of it, next time I should bring the blanket.And you have personal waiters walking the aisles serving the same menu they had out in the lounge area. No need to run out if you want popcorn halfway through the movie (which the boys did), you have them bring it to you. If you want to have dinner and a movie, why not just have dinner AT the movie. A bit hard to see in the dark, but still a very appealing option. And you have space. So much space. Kind of ironic when you think about the lack of respect for personal space here in Chile, but it was a nice surprise.
An even nicer surprice - it didn't cost a fortune. Tickets are a bit pricier here in the Premium Class but overall tickets are about the same as they are in the U.S. At least in California. An average ticket for a Saturday night screening is 4800 CLP (about $9.00). Premium class will run you 7000 CLP (about $13). Not cheap, not ridiculous. And when you stop to consider that I don't have to pay the babysitter and the concessions in Chile are much cheaper than the U.S., the total for the night would only run about $30-$35.
It was a great experience and one B and I are sure to repeat many times while we are here and are afforded the luxury of having a built in babysitter at home. We can get back to doing one of the things we love to do together and now we can do it in style. I could get used to this!
P.S. The movie was good - but I think the final one will be better. Like my friend A said - they had too much material for one movie but not quite enough for two. This is the chick flick of the two - the next will be fighting all around (at least that is what I am telling B so he will come with me again).
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
I am Thankful...
For my family - not just here, but afar. Not just immediate, but extended. My wonderful group of girlfriends, whom I have only known for a couple of months, but that make not having family around just that much better. For the wonderful group of friends that I have known forever, may not have spoken to in just as long, but still become a lifeline for me when needed. Health - mine (which is not always guaranteed), my girls and B's, and that of my family. Ditto on their well being, their happiness and for them being a part of my life. For slobbery wet kisses. Being 5' 11" in a country that is full of short people because I can reach, well, everything, and see over everyone. No, really, this is a blessing. Being able to hug my girls and getting the "Mom,, that's a too much hug" in return - it makes me know I squeezed just right. Chilean wine. I am thankful for my Spanish teacher, Jessica - she makes me laugh, she makes me forget that I really don't have a tight grasp on the language, but overall she just makes it a lot easier to be almost middle aged and trying to learn a new language. My dog for being the best Dulce ever! I am blessed with a Nani that loves my kids as much as I do, finds it necessary to feed my kids (and the adults) well balanced meals and takes over the chores that I just find tedious. For wine (not just Chilean). I am thankful for Skype and UMI and Vonage, I almost feel like I am there with all of this technology. Being a blonde in a country full of brunettes - it keeps me from having to say "Lo siento, pero mi español es mas ò menos...", (I'm sorry, but my Spanish is so-so) they already know just by looking at me. Stinkerbell and her infectious personality and the fact that she will always be my baby, my love. My home - this has been a hard one in the past couple of weeks since we have been told we have to leave. But I am thankful that we have had the opportunity to call this home while we are in search of a place to spend the next phase of our lives. MadHatter - my first, my teacher, my student. She and I learned what it was like to be Mother and Child together and that is HUGE. I am thankful for her forgiving nature and her laid back attitude about, well, everything - you are my first love and nothing will ever change that. And to my love - B - I am just thankful and grateful. Enough said. I am thankful for finding a random Snicker bar at the grocery store the other day. To Facebook, for keeping me in touch when Skype, UMI and Vonage just don't cut it. For hair coloring, nail polish and makeup because they keep this almost middle aged woman looking slightly less than middle aged. For my parents, who have never failed me and whom I have failed on more than one occasion and yet, I have never heard word one on that. For chocolate. For my love of words, they are a passion and have rarely failed me. For being able to capture just the right moment on film (digital). I am grateful for the ability to escape in a T.V. program for an hour when needed (and for Cuevana.tv for making it possible to keep up here in Chile). My brothers and my nephews - if only we knew then that we would not live near one another - perhaps we could have teased each other more. For People magazine and the IPad I read it on today. My treadmill. For summer skies and no smog here in late November. The Andes Mountains. Did I mention Wine??? For the fact that I don't drive like a Chilean...and hope I never do. My list is nowhere near complete, but it scratches the surface. Really I am thankful for life, for love, for everything that makes me who I am...and I am truly blessed.
On this Thanksgiving Day, I hope you all take a moment to reflect on what makes you thankful in this life. Happy Thanksgiving or Feliz Dia de Acción de Gracias.
On this Thanksgiving Day, I hope you all take a moment to reflect on what makes you thankful in this life. Happy Thanksgiving or Feliz Dia de Acción de Gracias.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
We're Moving...Again
Seven months ago I sold my home, uprooted my children, took a huge leap of faith and moved 6000 miles to start a new life in Chile. Seven months. We left everything and everyone we knew behind. And we did it with a wide eyed sense of adventure. A longing to get to know the world and the people in it. But we also knew that for our sake, and the sanity of our kids, we would have to build a home base. A place where our kids felt that they belonged. Somewhere that we felt like a family and a place that we could be us. The same people we were in California. Even though no one here knew us yet, we had to be able to recognize ourselves within the confines of our own walls. We didn't just want to rent a house, we wanted to build a home. And I feel like we did. Or were well on our way. I painted walls, I slaved over the babies rooms. I made sure that they loved their space and that they knew it was their space. We put up permanent pool fencing so that the girls would be safe. We planted flowers, we landscaped. We turned our rental into something that we would enjoy raising our girls in for the next 2-3 years. I know we haven't been here long enough to really have put down roots but it has been long enough that our house was starting to feel like our sanctuary. A place that everyone felt at ease. I really thought that this was going to be our home for the duration of our stay in Santiago. I never dreamed that we would be forced out such a short time after having arrived. I guess in some ways that is a good thing. Because if I had known, I never would have settled in. And it is very hard to live life unsettled.
It is leaving me a bit stressed. A bit worried. A lot overwhelmed. But mostly, I am just sad. Just really, really sad. For the kids, for B, for me. It is now going to start all over again. The anxiety of finding just the right home (not a house, a home). Talking through the fears that both of my girls have - MadHatter has already started asking a million questions. She wonders whether she will be able to keep the same friends, or if she has to start over again like last time. She asked if she will have to learn another language, like when we came here. She even wanted to know if we were going back to California where James lives. Oh, dear child, you break my heart - even as it is already breaking. I have to tell them not to worry and calm their anxiety, even as I have to deal with my own. I know this is called being a mother, but it never gets easier. MadHatter asked me today if we are going to move houses every time she had a birthday (heck, it has happened 50% of the time, I can see where she might think this). And Stinkerbell will have lived in 3 houses in 2 1/2 years. I don't even like writing this anymore...
I know that this is the downside of being an expat and having to rent. But I have no choice living in a foreign country. We are not allowed to buy so we throw ourselves at the mercy of landlords and contracts and rental properties. I feel helpless. And if you know me, I don't do helpless well. Yes, I like to move but this is not a move that is stemming from opportunity, it is coming out of necessity. It is not pleasant, it is not fun and I am dreading every minute of it. It would be different if we had been the ones to make the decision. If we had found fault with our house and just couldn't live here any longer. But this is not the case. This is a forced move and the forced move is just not enjoyable. There is a time limit hanging over your head. You are a the mercy of the market and the real estate agents. You are taking something that should be exciting and fun, and turning it into chaos. And if I don't do helpless well, I don't do chaotic at all.
And there is the crux of it all. I know I am looking at this all wrong. I know it and yet I still choose to do it. Just for today. Ok, maybe tomorrow too. I will spend a day or two and think about how much this sucks...and then I will move on. I will chew on this and mull it over, and then I will stop. I will then consciously choose to look at the bright side and won't dwell on the hard parts. I will do what I do best and that is deal with it head on, as best as I know how. But for right now, I am going to indulge my "glass is half empty" side. After all that the housing market has handed me in the past couple of years, I feel I deserve it.
So, today is my "this sux" post. Tomorrow, or maybe later in the week, after I have gone through the Stages of Adjustment, I will post the "glass half full" side of the story. Because that is the girl that usually runs that show, and I tend to like her better anyway.
It is leaving me a bit stressed. A bit worried. A lot overwhelmed. But mostly, I am just sad. Just really, really sad. For the kids, for B, for me. It is now going to start all over again. The anxiety of finding just the right home (not a house, a home). Talking through the fears that both of my girls have - MadHatter has already started asking a million questions. She wonders whether she will be able to keep the same friends, or if she has to start over again like last time. She asked if she will have to learn another language, like when we came here. She even wanted to know if we were going back to California where James lives. Oh, dear child, you break my heart - even as it is already breaking. I have to tell them not to worry and calm their anxiety, even as I have to deal with my own. I know this is called being a mother, but it never gets easier. MadHatter asked me today if we are going to move houses every time she had a birthday (heck, it has happened 50% of the time, I can see where she might think this). And Stinkerbell will have lived in 3 houses in 2 1/2 years. I don't even like writing this anymore...
I know that this is the downside of being an expat and having to rent. But I have no choice living in a foreign country. We are not allowed to buy so we throw ourselves at the mercy of landlords and contracts and rental properties. I feel helpless. And if you know me, I don't do helpless well. Yes, I like to move but this is not a move that is stemming from opportunity, it is coming out of necessity. It is not pleasant, it is not fun and I am dreading every minute of it. It would be different if we had been the ones to make the decision. If we had found fault with our house and just couldn't live here any longer. But this is not the case. This is a forced move and the forced move is just not enjoyable. There is a time limit hanging over your head. You are a the mercy of the market and the real estate agents. You are taking something that should be exciting and fun, and turning it into chaos. And if I don't do helpless well, I don't do chaotic at all.
And there is the crux of it all. I know I am looking at this all wrong. I know it and yet I still choose to do it. Just for today. Ok, maybe tomorrow too. I will spend a day or two and think about how much this sucks...and then I will move on. I will chew on this and mull it over, and then I will stop. I will then consciously choose to look at the bright side and won't dwell on the hard parts. I will do what I do best and that is deal with it head on, as best as I know how. But for right now, I am going to indulge my "glass is half empty" side. After all that the housing market has handed me in the past couple of years, I feel I deserve it.
So, today is my "this sux" post. Tomorrow, or maybe later in the week, after I have gone through the Stages of Adjustment, I will post the "glass half full" side of the story. Because that is the girl that usually runs that show, and I tend to like her better anyway.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Brownies, Brownies, Brownies
When my friend K sent out an email stating that she needed some help, because the girls from the Hogar that I wrote about last month were doing a fundraiser, I jumped at the chance. It is hard for me to do as much as I would like to for them. Having two small children makes it hard for me to get there physically, and even then I have to battle the Mommy guilt, since I have to rely on someone else to watch my kids for me while I am gone for the whole day. We give what we can in donations, but again, there is more to it than just throwing money at a problem. So, I love when things like this one fall in my lap.
The Hogar has been given the opportunity to be the sole provider of snacks/food at a National Cheerleading Competition that is going to be held this Saturday. For this to happen and for them to make any sort of profit at the event, they were going to need a lot of donations of food...and I mean, a lot. They are expecting over 2000 attendees at this all day event. I responded right away and said I would be happy to provide the 200 brownies they would need. Finally - something I could do and it was right up my alley - baking! Piece of cake (or brownie as it may be).
First things first. I needed to find a recipe that was quick, easy and which had ingredients I could readily find here in Chile. The first two were easy - the third, a bit harder. Most of them called for Cocoa powder. Nothing doing. Some called for brown sugar. Again - no go. And some wanted Chocolate Chips. Those you can find but they are really small bags that go for the equivalent of about $4 a bag. I would have had to spend about $75 on chips alone. Uh, nope. Finally, I came upon the perfect recipe. It was so simple and only had 4 ingredients: Chocolate instant pudding, Chocolate cake mix, milk and nuts (if you want, I chose not to since I don't know who has allergies). So I was down to 3 ingredients. How much easier can you get?
Off to Jumbo I go, list in hand lest I forget something. I know there are only 3 ingredients, but with 200 brownies to bake, you want to make sure you have it all the first time. I went straight to the cake mixes. As I made Stinkerbell's birthday cake just a couple of months ago, I knew right where to look. They they were, stacked right next the to imported Betty Crocker mixes, which I certainly wasn't going to use, as much as I would have liked to. Betty just makes a great chocolate cake. I just couldn't afford her this time. I picked up almost all of their boxes of chocolate cake mix and went to get my 12 pack of milk. I wasn't going to need more than 4 or 5, but milk is sold in 12 packs cheaper than it is sold individually. And since the milk here is sold unrefrigerated, I knew it wouldn't go bad if I bought extra.
Now, I was in search of the one ingredient I just wasn't as sure about - the instant chocolate pudding. Instant anything is almost impossible to find here (but that is a whole other post). In the postres aisle (desserts) I found pudding, but not instant. I tried to ask for instant but he kept staring at me like I was a bit deranged and kept pointing to what was in front of me. Ok - this was close enough! The boxes leapt into my cart and I was good to go.
I hope they sell well for the girls on Saturday. I know they are excited to have been given this opportunity and they are so eager to do everything they can to keep their home. Literally. Casa Esperanza is in real need right now and is in danger of having to close their doors. They are not funded by the government like their sister house is, so they survive on the kindness of donations and whatever they can earn themselves. I am just glad I can help in some small way!
The Hogar has been given the opportunity to be the sole provider of snacks/food at a National Cheerleading Competition that is going to be held this Saturday. For this to happen and for them to make any sort of profit at the event, they were going to need a lot of donations of food...and I mean, a lot. They are expecting over 2000 attendees at this all day event. I responded right away and said I would be happy to provide the 200 brownies they would need. Finally - something I could do and it was right up my alley - baking! Piece of cake (or brownie as it may be).
First things first. I needed to find a recipe that was quick, easy and which had ingredients I could readily find here in Chile. The first two were easy - the third, a bit harder. Most of them called for Cocoa powder. Nothing doing. Some called for brown sugar. Again - no go. And some wanted Chocolate Chips. Those you can find but they are really small bags that go for the equivalent of about $4 a bag. I would have had to spend about $75 on chips alone. Uh, nope. Finally, I came upon the perfect recipe. It was so simple and only had 4 ingredients: Chocolate instant pudding, Chocolate cake mix, milk and nuts (if you want, I chose not to since I don't know who has allergies). So I was down to 3 ingredients. How much easier can you get?
Off to Jumbo I go, list in hand lest I forget something. I know there are only 3 ingredients, but with 200 brownies to bake, you want to make sure you have it all the first time. I went straight to the cake mixes. As I made Stinkerbell's birthday cake just a couple of months ago, I knew right where to look. They they were, stacked right next the to imported Betty Crocker mixes, which I certainly wasn't going to use, as much as I would have liked to. Betty just makes a great chocolate cake. I just couldn't afford her this time. I picked up almost all of their boxes of chocolate cake mix and went to get my 12 pack of milk. I wasn't going to need more than 4 or 5, but milk is sold in 12 packs cheaper than it is sold individually. And since the milk here is sold unrefrigerated, I knew it wouldn't go bad if I bought extra.
Now, I was in search of the one ingredient I just wasn't as sure about - the instant chocolate pudding. Instant anything is almost impossible to find here (but that is a whole other post). In the postres aisle (desserts) I found pudding, but not instant. I tried to ask for instant but he kept staring at me like I was a bit deranged and kept pointing to what was in front of me. Ok - this was close enough! The boxes leapt into my cart and I was good to go.
 |
| This is what it looks like to make 200 brownies. And this isn't all of it... There are 2 cake boxes and some chocolate chips missing (I broke down and bought just a few) |
The baking wasn't so bad. I had to tweak the recipe a bit since the pudding box was twice as big as the one in the states. When I was done with the fiddling - I realized it was 1 1/2 cake mixes, 1 box of pudding and 2 cups of milk. This made the most brownie like texture that I got out of all of my batches. And if you really want to know, I made 11 pans of brownies...in my toaster oven. Again, appliances here is another post I am working on!
I hope they sell well for the girls on Saturday. I know they are excited to have been given this opportunity and they are so eager to do everything they can to keep their home. Literally. Casa Esperanza is in real need right now and is in danger of having to close their doors. They are not funded by the government like their sister house is, so they survive on the kindness of donations and whatever they can earn themselves. I am just glad I can help in some small way!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Kermess
If you have ever been to a "Taste of..." then you know what I mean. There are booths everywhere showcasing what each restaurant has to offer. For outrageous prices, you get a taste of their best appetizers, or a bite of their award winning main dish. Perhaps you are looking for something sweet and you pop over for a small fondue pot from the best Fondue restaurant ever. And even though it is ten am, you still find a reason to try a glass of bubbly, or a sip a glass of Chardonnay, because it is just that kind of day. It is a day full of live music, bounce houses and face painting, and eating and drinking until you just can't anymore. All while you enjoy the company of good friends. It was no wonder we usually didn't leave the park until the last restaurant shut their booth at 9 pm. I told you...It was an EVENT. And it was all done in the name of charity, which made it that much sweeter. This past May was the first time in 5 years that we were not in attendance at Taste, and I really missed it.
So, you can imagine my joy when I heard about Kermess, the International Food Festival sponsored by the parents of Nido de Aguilas students. Nido is the International School here in Santiago and one that many, many expats like us send their kids to. It is an amazing campus with an even more amazing reputation for it's academics and charity work. This past Saturday, the proud Nido parents set up booths that covered the school grounds and showcased the foods and cultures of their home countries. They also had entertainment from many of the countries, and there were bounce houses and face painting (sounding a lot like what I just wrote a paragraph before...) But the main attraction was the 20+ food booths filled with tastes of everything from Shrimp on the Barbie (Australia), Chaufan (China), Dutch Apple Pie (Holland), Tamales (Honduras), Shawarma (Israel), Paella (Spain) and Sausage, sausage and more sausage from Argentina. I could go on and on, but I think you get my point. There was food. A lot of food.
And let's not forget the drinks. There were Caipirinha's in Brasil, Guinness in the U.K., Pisco's from Argentina and Chile, Margarita's from Mexico, Sangria from Spain and Beer, beer and more beer in Germany. But since I was my own designated driver, I had to forgo the alcohol and stick to the exotic Chilean Agua sin gas.
I could not decide what looked best, so I bought a little bit of each...from everywhere it seemed. We tried Taquitos from Mexico, Samosas from India, Spicy French Fries from Taiwan, a Quesadilla from Mexico (for Stinkerbell for when she woke up, because somehow she fell asleep while MadHatter and I were eating our way around the world). But the majority of our food allotment went to the Venezuelan booth, as it has been so long since I have had a good Arepa or a real Tequeño (and for those that know me well, I would start a knock-down, drag out fight for an authentic Tequeño). They also had Pan de Jamon and Malta...When I stop to think about it, why did I really need any other booths? This one would have sufficed.
And we were not done yet...There was still desert. There was a Crepe from France, Brownies from the Girl Scouts, Fresh Cotton Candy from the vendor in the entertainment area and a Raspado from Venezuela. And this is just what we tried personally! I got a bite of each, but the girls devoured most of it before I could wheedle a second one out of them. You would have thought they would have skipped dinner, but nope - pasta was devoured by the bowlful later that night.
The girls and I also had time to squeeze in some tattoo's, fished for water yo-yo's, bought bracelets from our favorite girls home, bounced in the bounce house, rode the carousel and played tag with our friends on the lawn. It was amazing how many people we kept running into that we knew (I didn't know that we knew this many people in Chile)! It was a big day and we were sorry that Papa missed it as we know he really would have enjoyed it. But there is always next year...Of course, there is next year. You wouldn't think we would miss it, do you? And next year I will take some pictures of the food and booths - I was too busy eating to stop and pick up my camera.
They picked out their own bracelets and then made their donation to the Hogar/Casa Esperanza. All of the bracelets were handmade by the girls and were donated to help raise money to keep the Hogar running. What a great charity and I am always so glad that we can help, even in such small ways!
Friday, November 11, 2011
You're Gonna Miss This
I am sitting here, listening to MadHatter and my friends youngest daughter play while I am babysitting. Babysitting. You have to use that word loosely when the kids you are sitting range in age from 7- 10, and the one you brought with you is the youngest in the house, and would be the one that would really need a sitter. There is no baby, this is all sitting. Hence the reason I am trying out their new leather couch, updating my blog, while listening to the two youngest in the house talk about who is going to be playing with which animal from My Littlest Pet Shop. (Don't worry Missy - I checked on them every couple of minutes to make sure that chaos didn't reign supreme). The thing that got me thinking though was the fact that I could never do this at my house. If I sit down, I have two shadows at my feet within seconds. They pepper me with a constant barrage of chatter- "What are you doing Mom?", "Can we help?", "Mom, you need to wipe my tushie", "MoooooooM, come here. NOW." There wouldn't be time to even get the editing software on Blogger pulled up and type one word before I would be interrupted. And now here I am, 309 words in, and no one has even noticed that I am missing. And I am not sure how that makes me feel.
You see, I have been a stay at home Mom ever since I have been a Mom. To tell the truth, I was a stay at home wife for about a year before I even became a Mom. Interesting year to say the least. Maybe someday I can post about it, but for now, let's just say that I have been with my kids since the day they were brought home from the hospital. Even before they came home. Once my children were held in my arms, they stayed within my reach for the duration. And when I mean within reach, I truly mean it. MadHatter spent every single night of her life until she was 2 years, 9 months and 7 days old waking up to me in the bedroom down the hall (and Stinkerbell is not to be forgotten - hers was a mere 1 year, 3 months and 20 days with no break from Mama - but that is still a good number). That is 1011 days that MadHatter woke up knowing I was there and then spent almost every waking second within earshot. And I can count the number of times she went to sleep at night without me putting her in bed on less than two hands. Not by choice really, but by necessity. You see, our closest family lived about 1500 miles away and that doesn't make for good babysitters. Co-op babysitting never worked for us, since the people we would want to go out with, are the people that would have to be home watching our kids. And forget about paying babysitters. The going rate in California was such that we could afford to pay the sitter, or we could afford to go out. Not both. So where is this going, you ask?
Here I am sitting on this supple leather couch, having gotten 608 words pecked out on my tiny phone keyboard (thanks google), and looked up the number of days my kids were alive before I left them overnight (you didn't think I knew that off the top of my head now, did you?), and I even had time to really think (I mean, really think) about what I was feeling and, in that time I have not been interrupted once. Not one single scream has left the lips of these children, not one fight, not a question or request or demand. It is almost like there are no children in the house, unless you count the laughter that is coming from MadHatter and her bestest buddy. And I can't help but try to calculate the number of days that it will be before this type of behavior is the norm in my house and not something that I think is so extraordinary that I have to write a post about it. I love my job. Being Mom is the best thing I have ever done, but I can't help but long for a future when my job is not so intense. When I will feel like it is more about being a mother and less about being a prison warden, or referee. But that feeling of longing for a different, easier life lasts about 5 minutes and then is replaced with the knowledge I have had all along, the knowledge that I wouldn't trade these years for anything in the world. Not even for the ability to go pee by myself. I know these are difficult years and I know the effort is endless, but I also know that in the end you reap what you sow. And I am in this to sow the best seeds I can. I also know this is such a fleeting time. Everyone who has ever raised kids will tell you how quickly they grow up and how much you wish you could have the "baby" back for just a short while. Country Music has dedicated a lot of songs to this subject but I think the best is by Trace Adkins - You're Gonna Miss This. The chorus sums up everything I am trying to say, but much better. Much, much better. Probably why he makes millions and I write a blog. The chorus goes- You're gonna miss this/You're gonna want this back/You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast/These are some good times/So take a good look around/You many not know it now/But you're gonna miss this.
So, there I was sitting on the couch, relaxing for the first time in I don't know how long, and it hit me- I am in the middle of the best time of my life - and I always will be. There is never going to be a better tomorrow, or an easier next year as it may be. It will always be the here and now and the only thing I can hope for is that I am living it to the best of my ability and enjoying it to the depths. I need to appreciate the moments as they are happening and not wish them away so that I can get to a simpler time. It cheats us all - me, the girls, B. And I don't want to do that. Because I realized as I was sitting there, even though I got to spend almost every single waking minute with my kids, I still hve a hard time remembering what MadHatter was like as an infant, then a one year old, and finally a toddler. (I could chalk that up to sleep deprivation, as we did have 2 in 17 months). I am looking at her now (we are now home) and I see no trace of a baby. Gone are the huge (and you will see, HUGE) brown eyes, the pixie haircut and the cheeks that were just waiting to be bitten. The impish voice and the chubby rolls have all given way to the little girl she is becoming. And I have to stop and really concentrate to remember what it was like to hold her in my arms and talk to her so quietly at night in her rocker. She wouldn't stand for that now, even if I could get both of us into that rocker. Even my Stinkerbell, who still has her rolls and her impish voice, is starting to grow up and demand that I treat her as the toddler she is and no longer as my baby. If I try to cuddle her too long, I get a stern look and an "I not a baby" before she wiggles out of my grasp and runs off to torment her big sister. It all goes so fast and I want to scream at them to slow down. Stop growing up before my eyes. I am not ready for this. But since I can't freeze them at this age forever, the best I can do is continue to take pictures and use them to help me take a walk down memory lane every once in awhile.
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| Her First bath! |
  6 Weeks and 3 Months |
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| 6 Months |
10 Months (after her baptism) and One Year!!!
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| 17 Months (and she was a Big Sister!) |
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| Just turned 2! |
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| 2 1/2 - where did my baby go? |
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| She can't be 3! |
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| And she is almost 4 now!!! |
And of course, Stinkerbell. She is still my baby, but my how she has grown!!!
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| Minutes old! |
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| 3 Weeks. |
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| Stinkerbell's first trip to Disneyland! 7 weeks old. |
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| 3 1/2 Months!!! |
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| About 5 months here - and MadHatter is almost 2. |
She is 7 months and 10 months in these...Oh, how I miss this age.
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| She idolizes her sister!!! Almost one! |
18 Months
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| The Birthday Girl at 2! |
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