Fabling

Victory

2012-01-27T02:56:00.001-05:00

Two days after I posted my plea for help I found these little guys in in a trap.

Sadly there were two of them which I can only assume meant a family somewhere.

It has been a week now and none of my traps have caught any more mice so I am closing this case.

In other news, it has been a while since I have talked about Stella and her French preschool. For a while I thought that what everyone had said about kids picking up language quickly was a lie. I heard stories of kids talking after seven weeks. Stella wasn't.

Truthfully Stella rarely talks at school as far as I can tell. However, she is coming home and saying complete sentences. She is learning slang French which makes it that much weirder to me and also lets me know she is really learning it. She really likes her school now, although she is quiet in the class and doesn't have any special BFF, she does enjoy going to school and was sad when I didn't take her all day yesterday.

So my assessment of this experience half way through it is they do pick it up, it isn't easy, and every kid is different in how shy or outgoing they are in practicing the language. So before you throw your kid in a new language school each year remember that it does stress the kid out and it is a lonely experience for a few months so think long and hard about it before you take the plunge.

In other news I started going to the gym again and Tiger has been going to the Army gym daycare. His first day there he discovered they have a little sink just his size. When the teacher wasn't looking he went into the sink area and made a water slide with his arm from one sink to the next. He was completely soaked and since it is January he wasn't allowed to go outside with his jeans, socks, and shirt completely soaked; instead, for recess, he had to clean up his mess. That's my kid.

Mort à la Souris

2012-01-17T10:59:00.001-05:00

This past weekend is what I consider a golden holiday. A holiday that we as American celebrate, thank you Dr. King, but Europe is clueless to. This means that everyone is at work, school, or doing normal everyday things while we are on VACATION.

So we took advantage of that and went to Park Molenheide. Park Molenheide is sort of a soft-camping (cabin) indoor waterpark and playground children's paradise. It is really close to Holland and in the woods but really only about 45 minutes from our house.

We got there at 10, played in the pool and waterslides for two hours with some other Americans. Then we got some lunch that was overpriced and slow but, you know, I am getting used to this pace, and even liking it. Once the kids ate up they played for another two hours in what could only be described as child paradise. Philippine friends think 12 Active Funs, American friends think 20 Chucky Cheese and 12 Little gyms wrapped up with so many giant climbing structures that you can't climb them all. It was paradise, and we were the only people there.

Awesome.

I came home buzzing. I have sort of had a happy buzz since Christmas. Things have been great, so great I was nervous something was going to kill my buzz and it did.

I went into the garage to let the kids jump on their bounce house, yes folks, the bounce house still lives in Brussels. Anyhow, as I moved it I found mouse poop. RODENT POOP.

Bigger problem: my food storage is mostly in the garage.

Now, as of yet I do not see any mouse evidence that they have gotten to my food storage. It is on shelves up high. However, these little buggers are smart and it is only time before this mouse or one its progeny figures out how to climb my food storage shelves.

I did what any reasonable trailing spouse would do. I gave my husband a very loud and clear message to get the work order into the embassy STAT. Which he dutifully did and received a response in less than 10 minutes with a message that it is my problem.

In my mind the message went as follows:

Ha, ha, you have a mouse. And you have to deal with it ALL. BY. YOURSELF. Welcome to Europe $!^#*, BWAHAHA.

The reality is it was an auto-sender email. We are going to petition the real people and find out if they really mean it. But until I get a human who comes to my home with traps I am an unhappy camper.

Of course this is not welcomed news. Just as I was ill-equipped to deal with a calcified spigot, I am even more ill-equipped to deal with a rodent problem. Maybe I don't give myself enough credit but I don't want that credit. I don't like killing mice, spiders, or other vermin.

A mouse is a pest that causes a lot of destruction. They eat through things, they eat walls, and they proliferate. It frustrates me beyond all belief that they think they are saving $10 for a few traps when they might really be causing thousands of dollars in damage by not taking care of it.

Boo. And it was such a good start to the week.

Ne Souriez Pas

2012-01-15T15:36:00.000-05:00

Vacation is over. School is back in session. Life is returning to a schedule. It feels good.

Brussels is easily becoming one of my favorite places I have lived. It is just beautiful, and I am writing this in January, when the days never become true days, just varying shades of darkness. In spite of this, it is just beautiful. The parks are never ending and exciting to explore. I am getting used to the way of things and I like it.

The other day I was in the park near our house and I saw a woman with blonde hair. She had a child and they were swinging together. Before I heard any word out of her mouth I knew she was American. I knew because she had a huge smile. The fact is more than footwear or clothing style the bigest tell-all for Americans is their smile. Belgians are far more reserved about smiling to strangers, making small talk, and really being open. When I first came here I thought everyone was mad because no one smiled. Now I get it and try to expose my grins sparingly. I get the impression they think I am a big faker because I smile. Little do they know I just like to crack jokes often, and perhaps I smile when I get nervous. Not that being in a foreign country and not speaking any of the two local language would make a girl ever nervous.

Either way, it doesn't matter terribly because the locals are shy when it comes to strangers. If you want to get to know the Belgians you have to actively pursue them because they keep to their selves. My goal before leaving post is to break this barrier with at least one family.

Dream big.

Christmas, Sethmas, New Years Au Revoir 2011

2012-01-05T09:10:00.000-05:00

This past Christmas was about as perfect as they get. We were cozy in our home, our home that we are now settled into. Our four and two year old still believe in Santa and they were working it as best as they could to get on his nice list. Yet, they aren't old enough to wake up before 7 to open gifts. We got up around 7:30 (forced them to get church clothes on BEFORE gifts because we knew there was going to be some serious separation anxiety when leaving the new toys to go to church), opened gifts, ate breakfast and have just enjoyed Christmas.

Stella got a doll for Christmas. Love.

Gifts were exchanged. It was too early to skype with grandparents or American relatives so it was just us and as I was there with my little family a thought occured to me, "this is my family." Of course my parents and siblings are still family but MY family is my little family of four. It was a nice day. The kids didn't even fight us about having to leave their toys and go to church. It was so nice.

Sunny in Paris 2011

After Christmas Seth and I decided to take a trip to Paris without the kids.

Merry Sethmas

I love my children (see paragraph 2) but Paris is 10,000x better without them. I was relaxed and not giving someone water or crackers or yelling at them to not run away or to walk faster or to whatever. It was Seth and me, the beginning of this family adventure, and it was nice. It was the most gorgeous day, no wind, lots of sun. We walked a lot, talked a lot, shopped. Pretty much perfect. Then we took the train home and were back in time to put the kiddies to bed.

Then we had New Years. Off with the old on with the new.

We saw the creepy toy museum of Mechlen

Seth has taken some time off and we have just been doing family things, seeing Brussels, and loving it. I am so grateful for everything in my life and all I have been given and excited to see what 2012 brings.

Puddles in January (or any month really)

While You Were at Tyson's Mall

2011-12-13T03:56:00.000-05:00

This past weekend we decided to go to a true Christmas Market. Everyone says the best markets are in Germany so in about one hour we traveled through three countries to get to Aachen, Germany.

I feel a bit dense to say this but I was really surprised at how many people there only spoke German. Were were seriously 70 minutes from Brussels which is bilingual and all the sudden we were in Germany in which German is the only language spoke.

The market was delightful and there were German Christmas trinkets everywhere. I decided that I didn't want Christmas junk overtaking my life so I only got a pickle ornament and a small ice skating music box that the kids love.

Seth scaring the locals with his winter hat.

The weekend before we went to downtown Brussels Christmas market. While the trinkets were most likely from China and not nearly the homey hominess that you want to buy the family atmosphere was fantastic. There was ice skating, faux sledding, a carousel that had been tinkered and hand made (it looked like it came straight from 1880), there weren't 15,000 people crowded together either so it made it a bit more pleasant Aachen was obsviously a superior Christmas market but it didn't matter because you couldn't get your stroller near any of the booths without putting your child's life at risk.

A rocket in the carousel.

In other news: I have started to learn to sew. This need first came from our Christmas tree. As you may remember from posts of previous years we have a turquoise tree. Whether you love it or hate it, it is not a common tree and finding a tree skirt to match was going to be impossible. So...I ordered fabric and attempted my first Christmas tree skirt.

The Turquoise Tree

The tree skirt

It turned out to be pretty easy and then I got ambitious (and you know what happens when you get ambitious). I decided a human skirt would be easy, so I made a skirt for Stella. Which I must sadly report was not loved and adored. Future note to self and other moms of kids who are uber clothes sensitive/bratty don't put a significant amount of time in making anything that is most likely to be rejected.

Stella didn't want to try on her own skirt so her bff was my model.

After I made her a Christmas skirt I tried to perfect it and tried out a circle skirt.

That was pretty stinking cute and then I thought I could make pajama pants, out of satin. Apparently I can't and I am so embarassed at how terrible it looks I can't even post pictures. Let's just put it this way: hot pink satin when sewn incorrectly can look terribly terribly vulgar. Who knew I could make frumpy pajama pants vulgar?

It Works Until it Doesn't

2011-12-09T03:15:00.000-05:00

The past six weeks have been really tough for me as a mother. Stella was out of sorts. At first I thought, correctly, it was just a touch of the flu. But then it passed and the attitude didn't.

All the sudden my sweet girl was a bit of a sour puss. I couldn't touch ANYTHING she wanted. She insisted on doing EVERYTHING herself including making lunch. She would cook an omelet every day by herself, under my supervision (but I was NOT allowed to touch her eggs). She just was grouchy. This was making me grouchy. So we decided something needed to change.

I have always thought that full time school is a bit much for a four year old. Yet, as each day passed and Stella was grouchy, it was making me grouchy, and vicariously Tiger was getting grouchy. So we decided to bump up the amount of school Stella goes to, if for nothing else, my sanity.

Instead of just afternoons Stella now is goes to school in the morning, comes home for ninety minutes, eats lunch, chills a bit, and the goes back. She has never been happier. She is my sweet girl again. Attitude Stella is gone and we are all happy. When I talked to her about this change she told me she likes going to school more because it makes her feel like a big kid. I love my that I have my happy girl again. Who knew? The kid just needed a bit more stimulation.

Ok, so back to Belgian St. Nicholas Day. Check out this toy that was a gift to the kiddos:

No, you don't find that in the America. Please note the boat says 'Madrid' we all know that Santa goes to Spain when he is done delivering toys. Also note the Pete is holding a stick. I am not quite sure what that is about. I have heard it is used to punish naughty children but I have also heard it is just innocent. The jury is out.

My kids loved Sinterklaas Day. Minus the Zwarte Pietre we are keeping a Santa Day.

Now that Santa is done here Stella is learning about baby Jesus in school, once again another American taboo being broken. Being Christian, obviously I don't mind the nativity story being taught, but once again it is odd to have a public school dealing with a religious subject.

And in my final subject change: Paris. I may or may not take Seth to Paris for a day trip over the Christmas break. If you had six hours in Paris what would your itinerary be? Where would you go? We won't bring the kids (hallelujah!) Last time we were in Paris we saw the Eiffel Tower, Arc du Triomphe, and Notre Dame so those are not necessary this time. Advice? Recommendations? We are going in December so think about nose hairs freezing when you make your dream plan for me.

Sinterklaas is Coming to Town

2011-12-04T17:01:00.001-05:00

Christmas is here! Christmas is here!

But before I talk about Christmas lets go back to Thanksgiving. Yum!

We had two Thanksgivings and it was wonderful. Real Thanksgiving was a friend's house. It was homey and fun and the food was so yummy. There was a good mix of Americans and Germans and the kids played together so well.

Because I am a big fan of Thanksgiving lasting a week I made second Thanksgiving on Saturday. We invited our American neighbors, Swedish neighbors, and few stragglers who were alone while the family went back to the mothership.

Once again, amazing food, amazing company and the beginning of the holidays.

Europe is the blueprint of Christmas as we know it. It is so homey and delightful and BIZARRE.

I started to notice that the Belgians have a different Santa myth when Stella came home with a coloring page of Santa riding on a white horse. She gave it to me and I laughed, we all know that Santa rides a sleigh with reindeer not a white horse.

Except that he does ride a white horse in Belgium. Oh and he comes in on a boat which is where my story begins.

I took the kids to the river downtown to welcome jolly old Sinterklaas from his journey ON A BOAT. That's right, not only does this guys not have reindeer but he comes to town on a boat. Oh and he doesn't have elves either. Instead he has... well... just look:

The uncomfortable image of Sinterklaas's helper Zwarte Piet

That's right, Santa has a helper. His name is Zwarte Piet, which means Black Pete. Which means, uh yeah, they have people dressed in black face here and I sort of couldn't believe it.

This was one of Sinterklaas's helper's at the Brussels Sinersklaas Welkom. She was about 13 and loved playing the part. What you don't see in this picture is my jaw that has dropped.

Sinterklaas's boat and band.

Most of the kids dressed up were about junior high age kids. All of them were in black face except for the ones who were of African descent. This made the whole experience even more disturbing. Everyone was loving it and no one seemed to be even a little disturbed that they were putting people in black face.

In American culture, "black face" is seen as incredibly rude and racist because of the practice's history in vaudeville entertainment where white performers used it to poke fun of African-American stereotypes. I'm guessing the history isn't quite the same here -- but it was quite shocking to see.

The kids, however were clueless and had no idea that anything was weird.

The story of Zwarte Piet or black Pete is that he was a slave that Santa bought and then freed. Piet was so grateful he committed his life to helping Santa. Another version of the story is that he ran away and found Santa who was kind to him. In the past they characterized him as either cruel (he will kidnap naughty children and take them to Spain which is where Santa goes after Christmas, can I be naughty and go to Spain to get out of Belgian winter?) They also characterized him as a fool. Fortunately both of those characterizations have been shed, but it still feels wrong. The other story is that he is just black from all the soot from the chimneys. None of these back stories make me feel better. And apparently there are a few who feel the same way as me, although watch out or you will be on the ostracized list of your Dutch friends.

Tomorrow is supposed to be the feast of Santa Claus. The kids will put shoes out and I will put nuts and fruits that will be ignored for more delicious Belgian chocolate and a few small presents out. It isn't our tradition but we are in Belgium and if that means an extra day of Christmas for these kids, I am going to give it to them. We can adopt this day, but when we do Santa will be riding on a white horse without any controversial helpers.

Marine Ball 2011

2011-11-23T03:12:00.000-05:00

Seth and I were able to attend the Marine Ball on Saturday. I was able to pull out my Oliver Tolentino gowns and even lent an Oliver gown to a pregnant friend (I used that when I was pregnant with Tiger). I found time to doll up, left the kids with a neighbor, and was an adult if only for four hours.

Our mandatory prom pose.

It was a great event and as usual the Marines did a fantastic job. My only question about the Marine Ball is: where was the cake? I have to witness the youngest and oldest Marine chow down on what looked like a very delicious birthday cake in red and gold. When my dessert came it was a plate of assorted desserts with no cake. I like fancy desserts but when I go to a birthday party I want cake. Even more delicious, cake cut with a sword. Future note to self: next birthday get sword to cut cake.

Happy birthday Marines!

The Kids are Alright

2011-11-15T10:34:00.000-05:00

The awfulness didn't really begin today, it started two days ago. We came to pick up our daughter from an American friend's house. She didn't want to leave. This opened a door of homesickness and tantrums that are really not cute. It was missing friends, I hate wet hair, I don't want to wear pants, and it spiraled down from there.

At the end of all this three-day on/off screaming I needed some Advil. I had a pounding headache. I opened the bottle and Tiger thought it was candy. He knocked it out of my hand. As I clamoured to pick it up and told him "no" he somehow got a few and ate them. Who thought it was a good idea to coat Advil in sugar?

So I called poison control. FYI, for 30 lb children you can consume as many as fourteen 200 mg ibuprofens before you need your stomach pumped.

Luckily he only ate one or two. Still I am feeling like I should not polish my 'Mother of the Year' quite yet.

And so the tears began. I am tired, I am tired of being tired, I am tired of being foreign and not knowing what people are saying. I am tired of not being able to find things. I am tired of not being comfortable.

And then...an old foreign service friend called. They are in Finland so they get the different type of challenges that come with this amazing first world continent. It was a pretty casual chat but it helped. Helped so much. The fits have stopped. The kids are delightful and playing with our European neighbors. I am in love with Belgium again and Tiger seems to be just fine. I am going to be okay. We are all okay.

Paris with Kids

2011-11-07T03:51:00.000-05:00

We did it. We managed to drive to Paris find a hotel to fit us all comfortably and actually have a good time.

There are a few things that are key to this formula. Most important:

GRANDPARENTS

Having a larger adult to children ratio is key to having a super fabulous time. However, even with an even or outnumered ratio a good time can be had by all.

This is how we did it.

Plan: we went this week mostly because my husband could get off work. It also turned out to be the week that Belgium takes off for Fall break. This made me worried that Disneyland would be crowded. Apparently the UK and France had school breaks that week as well but they were finished Thursday. This meant just us and the Belgians and the occasional short short Germans were at Disneyland (yes, in November). It was great. We were able to get on every ride we wanted and stayed from opening (10:00 am to close 7:00 pm).

We went home to a nice big place. We were able to find an inexpensive room at this timeshare. I suppose it was low-season. It was fantastic and there was enough room to play, sleep, eat. There was an indoor pool, nice playgrounds. Perfect for families with little ones. It could sleep six and had two bedrooms but because we love Seth's parents and we wanted them to continue to love us we got two rooms. Since we drove from Belgium we brought our own food and it was perfect.

We were able to take the train into downtown Paris and it dumped us out right at Arc du Triomphe. We took a nice walk from there to the Eiffel Tower. The weather was gorgeous and Fall was in full bloom. Tiger took an awesome nap at the Eiffel Tower.

At this point my mother-in-law took off her grandma hat and put on her superhero cape and then chased down some pick-pocketers at the Eiffel Tower. Theives beware when Seth's mom is around! Turns out they were doing a scam trying to get people to sign a petition and then swiping pockets as you sign. Beware.

From Eiffel Tower we took a cab to Cathedral of Notre Dame. It was gorgeous. Tiger had a hard time with the whole 'silent' concept. He struggles at our chapel at home so I don't know why I was ambitious that he would somehow be quiet in a Catholic cathedral. Even so, it was amazing and gorgeous. I loved the ceilings, the windows, and the devotion that had been put into Notre Dame. It was beautiful.

At this point we knew we were crazy to try to do more so we took the train home and left the grandparents. The kids loved the playgrounds and pools and it may have been their favorite part of the trip.

The next day we took it easy and went out the countryside until both Stell and Tiger let us know it was time to leave.

All in all, a great trip and I loved being able to see Paris with the people I love most.

My Sanctuary

2011-10-27T08:47:00.000-04:00

I am sitting in my home on the one day a week I can breath. The day the cleaning lady comes. Every week I get one hour when Stella is at school and Tiger is asleep and the cleaning lady has just cleaned my house and I can breath. It is my favorite hour of the week.

I was thinking how my house was clean every day in the Philippines. It was nice, and at the same time not nice. I miss the live in help but I don't miss the sadness that comes with poverty.

Belgium and I are getting along. I am gaining acceptance and this country has given me indifference, which is better than annoyance.

Our house has been rented out by the Embassy for 20 years. This means our neighbors have had to put up with new people every 2-4 years.

They have declared us and the next-door Americans (also Embassy) the nicest Americans in years. Can I get that etched in a glass block? It would read, "Sunny and Seth, pretty nice for Americans."

So here are a few funny notes from my time here:

The beef I bought today was confirmed 100% muscle on the package. That makes me want to go veg right there, ewww muscle?
Since I live in Brussels proper there is going to be trick-or-treating. Get ready Belgium we don't do Halloween half way. We go all the way. So excited about this, Halloween is definitely on the top three list of favorite holidays.
There is a child that keeps running into my backyard and jumping over my fence to a neighborhood park. Yesterday he knocked down my flowers and I am not pleased. Note: learn French to chew out les enfants. I can't wait to be an old lady so I can yell at all the neighbor kids. I will be an awesome cranky old lady.

And finally your weird Sunny culture tour of the week: took the kids to Technopolis the other day and they exchanged their flowers and pollination exhibit for a true "birds and bees" exhibit. Check out how Europe deals with sex for elementary aged kids.

Watch out young girls keep mouse traps under their skirts here. Who needs birth control when you have a mouse trap? Why aren't we showing this same exhibit in the US? Think of all the good it could do.

A heart shaped bed with a video playing above. Did not watch video but was informed by Stella of it's existence later. Praying it was not is showing what I would expect to find above a heart shaped bed.

Condoms that blow up with the touch of a button. The kids thought this was great. I feel funny about this being in existence.

And there you have it folks, sex-ed via European style.

Family Photos 2011

2011-10-24T04:57:00.000-04:00

I try to be good about taking pictures of my kids but I would be lying if I said I took even half as many of Tiger as I did of Stella at the same age. The second kid gets the shorter end of the stick in that way. I was the second kid and so was Seth and somehow we survived.

Blaylocks 2010

Last October our friend Nancy took some family pics. This year we had our friend Maren take some pics. See how much we have changed in a year.

PS Watching Wonder Pets in Dutch and I am pretty sure I just heard them say "A baby A Hole, das est serious"

Slightly Sick Enough to Be Lazy

2011-10-24T04:51:00.000-04:00

The kids are both slightly sick today. Sick enough to miss school but not sick enough to want to take a nap. Sick enough that when they both had nuclear melt downs last night I suspected something might be off.

I don't mind. I like these lazy days. They are on my bed watching Sesame Street while I shop online and pin things on Pinterest. My new hobby these days. It is a combination file cabinet/ craft ideas book. It is totally becoming my new Facebook.

I am letting myself have a morning to chill after our crazy Sunday. I am the music director for my church's children choir. We had our big presentation yesterday. This is a big deal for the kids anyway but for me things were complicated exponentially since our congregation is dual lingual. Not bi-lingual, dual. As in some people speak French and some speak English but not too many people speak both. Myself included. So I have spent the past three months teaching these kids songs in a language I don't speak. We performed yesterday and they did great but it was a lot of work and I am glad it is over.

Stella is happy about missing school. She tolerates it but is still not head over heals about her preschool. I admit I am tolerating it but not head over heals either and I hope our attitudes are not linked. I try to keep my attitudes to myself.

The latest drama as of late is snack time. In Belgium they have a communal snack. Stella as I have mentioned is painfully picky. She does not like "wet" fruit. So when they put a wet sticky apple in front of her or a mushy banana she wants no part of it. They are fine with this but she is not allowed something she brought from home. So she goes hungry. So far this stand-off has lasted two months and she hasn't budged. Luckily this school does not punish kids for not eating their snack like my neighbor's son's school. At his school they make you sit by yourself if you don't eat all of your snack. Nothing teaches eating disorders like shaming.

Of course the Europeans think I am nuts for being concerned and they are confident that my daughter will fall in line with their program. I wouldn't hold my breath but we shall see.

In other kid news Tiger is self potty training. I have done this before and now realize diapers are MUCH easier than running a kid to a toilet every 30 minutes but this kid HATES being wet and begs to use the potty almost every time. He is getting so big.

Shelob Attacks

2011-10-11T03:12:00.000-04:00

When we bid on Belgium I was imagining all the beauties of a first world country. Sidewalks, parks. museums, clean grocery stores, hygiene. What I didn't account for would be the MASSIVE SPIDERS THAT INFEST THIS KINGDOM!

Written by a Florida girl, the spiders here are the largest creatures I have ever had to deal with in my life. Not only do they have about a four inch leg span, they are hairy, they are fast, and they leave a nasty bite.

It is October now and our brief flirtation with summer is over. It is typical Belgium again. Rainy. Cold.

Spiders are common sense creatures they don't like the weather of Belgium and they want in.

We first started seeing them in the garage, which makes sense because they can sneak in through the garage door.

Thanks to www.gardensafari.net to help me identify the massive creature living in my kitchen.

Then I found one on the first level that shares the same level as the garage. Fair enough, we left the door open or something and they decided to make a run for it.

Today they pushed the bar: I saw a five inch spider in my KITCHEN. Stella discovered it first and I did what any responsible parent would do. I ushered the children out and started crying and screaming.

I found my meanest looking boots, put them on and stomped with the all the rage and fury I have. As I was stomping I was screaming, "You. Are. Not. Supposed. To. Be. Here." Now I have a muddy, furry, gooey mess on my kitchen carpet that still scares me.

The worse part of all of this: no spider spray. Belgium takes a common sense and not an emotional response to spiders and they do not spray for them. They claim that they are not a life threatening pest. Perhaps not life threatening but emotionally terrifying. If you have a problem they recommend cleaning out your house. No sprays are available and I cannot ship liquids from the U.S.

My solution? Perhaps I should release ravens to eat all the spiders. Any ideas?

The Downward Dogs

2011-10-09T08:41:00.000-04:00

Belgium is beautiful. Beautiful. It is clean, green, fresh. There is a sense of pride taken in the home. Even a small yard is carefully manicured. We are the neighborhood eye sore since our English ivy has taken over my front garden. I planted flowers in hopes to get back in the neighborhood good graces. Here's hoping.

The people here are very particular about their health also. Pesticides that my country has deemed moderately safe are not allowed here. I had a doctor inform me that dairy will be my death and there is a very strong push to force all children to eat a balanced diet starting from birth (whether or not the kids like it, which FYI no, no she is not going to eat a large raw tomato. Surprise).

So here is what I don't understand.

If the people here are so meticulous and caring about their lawns and the look of their neighborhood why do they never even bother to bring a bag to pick up the poop?

The other day I was outside, a neighbor came by with their pooch and sure enough my yard was it's chosen toilet. They would have kept walking except I was there. They asked for bag when they caught my eye. AS IF THEY WERE NOT EXPECTING THIS EVENT TO HAPPEN.

Gross.

Everywhere we go there are large turds from neighborhood pets. People just pretend like it isn't happening as if not looking will somehow afford their dog the privacy it deserves and then keep walking. My sidewalk is littered with bombs of dog poop.

And now I question health.

I know these people are very conscious of their health. As I mentioned it is part of their upbringing from a baby on. Yet, they haven't seemed to catch on to the whole smoking will kill you message. Everywhere I look people are smoking. Not just at bars or in places adults congregate but everywhere. When I go to pick up Stella there is a mom every day puffing away while she pushes her overdressed baby in her Bugaboo. I don't get it? How can they be so careful in their life that they don't allow pesticides but then in the same breath not do anything to have a campaign against second hand smoke on children.

And then there are the teenagers. We live close to a large school and a large park. At lunch I see the high school age kids eat their lunch at the park by my house. I find it crazy town that they drink beer or wine at lunch during their school day. Am I being Puritanical and prudish? Perhaps but really, don't you need to have a sharp mind to learn at school and do you really want to have alcohol in your system? Does no one else think this is weird? Is this just cultural or am I missing something?

So here I am in the land that disapproves of me for sending my daughter to school with dehydrated fruit instead of fresh fruit and then in the same breath has no problem with a mother blowing smoke on their newborn baby and giving their 16 year old a lager for lunch during the school day.

What do you think? Why is there such a big cultural gap on these things? What makes us different?

No, No, No

2011-10-07T04:30:00.000-04:00

For those people who used to read my blog but stopped because all I ever talk about is the international schooling woes, sorry but it isn't time to come back. Here is yet another post about schooling your kid overseas.

After much thought, discussion, phone calls, crying, praying, and then doing it all over again Seth and I decided however awesome the International School of Brussels is (please take a look at the link and do the virtual tour so you can have your jaw drop like mine did), it just isn't worth it for our family.

They could seriously teach Stella how to ride a horse on her head and speak eight languages and it still wouldn't be worth it. Why? Why?

Well, to get my dear one to this El Dorado of schools we would have to get her up at 6:45 to catch the bus, Stella is not a morning person to begin with. We would get crabby Stella up and feed and dress her to catch her bus. She would be on this bus for over an hour. Oh, and she would be on a bus with kids from ages 3-18. Even though this is a private school I remember my days of public schooling and I know that rotten things happen on buses, rotten. But that is besides the point.

So little S gets to school and has a full eight hours of instruction. She then takes an hour bus ride home and is home by 4:30. She is tired and cranky when she comes home.

I feed her by 5:30 and get her ready for bed by 6:30, thats right because she will be five, and five year olds need about 12 hours of sleep.

Which would mean, she does not see her dad, as in until Saturday.

You see at this post Seth works pretty late and a lot of days we dont' see him until 7 in the evening. So, if we go to this school Stella will not be able to see her dad much and probably be super cranky.

There is an alternative, I could drive her and shorten her 2 hour commute to 1.25 hours. But that means Tiger won't be able to go to preschool and gas is not cheap here, and really? Is it really worth it?

For us, the answer is no.

Which brings me back to crying. I have always said from the beginning the only conisistency I can give my kids in this life is the international school system and already from the get go I am messing around with that. Perhaps I have a bit of mommy guilt but isn't that part of the job?

In the end we are putting Stells in a fantastic school that is bilingual and perfect for her needs. I decided what is best for the family is what is best for this five year old.

Next post that is churning in my head: local schools and parental involvement. Here is the premise: PTAs don't exist and you scare us crazy American.

Choices I Never Had

2011-10-04T08:55:00.001-04:00

Today we toured another amazing school in our kindergarten hunt. This one subscribed to the Montessori method. It was so cool to walk in and see all these kids actively engaged in projects. One kid was baking, another making words out of weird cursive letters, another was doing some funny number chart, one was doing math on an abacas, another was running around without pants (not sure what that was about).

The school is everything I ever wanted as a child. They develop a program that meets the individual's needs working both in groups and individually. I think Stella could really thrive in a school like that.

What are the cons? Well, they mix all of the 3-5 year olds together which I am not sure is a con but it is different. They also don't have a gym sponsored by Nike and are not surrounded by ancient royal forests. The children bake their own bread for snack at this school versus the pastry chef on staff at the other school.

Seriously I feel like I am choosing between gold and gold because both of these schools are amazing.

The con about the Nike sponsored school? It would take my little Stella away for ten hours. Yup, she would be at school for eight hours and spend two hours on the bus every day.

That is a long day for a five year old. A really long day.

Then I have to ask myself this question: what is best for Stella?

We don't know where we are going next. It could be Antarctica for all I know (although diplomatically that is probably unlikely since our ties there are pretty frozen), but I worry. I put these kids through so much change and I worry that if when we go to another post she is going to have to do a new country, potentially new language, and then a new schooling system.

Oiy, my head hurts thinking about it all.

So here are the pros to Montessori:

Develops an individual learning plan and fosters independent play (she could use this)
Not a two hour commute
It is 50/50 French/English so her French would get better (Nike school only does 30 minutes of French a day)
They have music instrument lessons during school and we have a violin that is dying to be played, this is part of school not after school (Nike school it is after school)
We get a 15% discount if we put Tiger there, although even with the discount it is still more than my university tuition (and this includes grad school), hmph...this would force me to get a job to pay for preschool
More international feel

Here are the pros to the Nike sponsored International School

The campus is amazing
The playground is amazing
The teacher to student ratio is good 1:10 Montessori is 1:12
There are computers for each kid
Great library
Ease into American system if we go back to U.S. or another international school
Pastry chef and awesome cafeteria
More families like us (this could be a con)

Really I am not sure what we will do. Either way I am excited for Stella. And please watch that YouTube video of Max Fischer's clubs in Rusmore. Best. Movie. Ever.

For those who have had experience with either the traditional international schools or Montessori schools please chime in.

Kindergarten Hunting

2011-09-27T17:26:00.000-04:00

Stella starts kindergarten in 340 days. This seems like more than ample amounts of time to worry about registration and applications. Apparently not. Kindergarten admissions is more rigid than college.

We decided to check out a few before we committed to one or the other. So far we have seen one. The BIG one, the one that most people send their kids to, the one that people clamor to get to this post so their kids can go to that school.

We expected it to be amazing, I guess I just didn't know how amazing it could get.

Of course the grounds are phenomenal. The school is like a castle surrounded by a forest. The elementary school playgrounds are levels and levels of fun. The cafeteria has a pastry chef. The library made me tear a little at the thought of my public school eduction. The classroom is clean, bright, and each child is issued a laptop. Yes, a laptop, in kindergarten, at school.

I think I was officially over my head impressed when I found out the psychomotor area (gym) was sponsored by Nike.

We still haven't decided what school cause there are still a few more to check out but I am impressed and perhaps a bit jealous of what my children get to have.

In other news Tiger is playing the Benjamin Button card and has reverted to infantile wake-ups every two hours. This made the very gorgeous summer-like September day not so fun. I felt like a new mom sans neonate. I think part of his wake up is coming from his new found ability to be quite the savvy conversationalist. He just wants to chat in the middle of the night and screams for me until I come. Last night he screamed for two hours. We were both a bit cranky today despite my mom of the year efforts to take him to not one but two jaw dropping fantastic parks. Yeah, I am that good.

Babble Babel Babal Blah Blah

2011-09-25T17:00:00.000-04:00

Stella has been in French preschool for less than a month now. My mother calls me daily and asks if she is fluent yet. And really if all you do is read the literature on how young children pick up language it is no wonder. Everything you read makes it seem like they will go to school ignorant and monolingual and then by the time you pick them up they will be happy as lark chirping away their newly aquired foreign languge.

So here is the reality about full immersion (and that means no other children speak English), yes, they do pick it up at a mach speed unknown to adults, but they are quite miserable in the interim. Stella has felt lonely at her new school and has really not made any friends yet. If you know her it isn't like her, she is a super fun and friendly kid. I pray it gets better before I loose patience and pull the plug on this grand experiment.

The funny thing about kids is how they learn language. Both my babies, like most babies who are able to grow into talking adults, babbled a lot. This is part of the language learning process. It was the first step before they started making real words.

Stella is babbling. There is no other way to describe it. Yes, she is a bright articulate four year old in English but she comes home every day from her French preschool making all sorts of crazy French noises. Not words, and not anything that makes sense (like an infant) but still you can tell she is practicing the noises she is hearing.

She does this all. day. long. All weekend in her quiet time she is mumbling these sounds to herself.

Here is a video I took in the car:

It is totally happening.

Exorcism of Clothing Demons

2011-09-22T08:52:00.000-04:00

Parents of the world take note! I have figured out how to avoid the daily morning tantrums we have been having when Stella gets dressed: dress the night befrore.

Now, I wouldn't want to wear my clothes for the next day to bed but I am not four and my clothes are not made of the softest cottons and snuggliest cottons known to man.

It was actually her idea. We pick out her clothes for the next day every night at bedtime. She is in a very good mood every night. There is something magical about the night, maybe it's the stories, maybe it's the snuggle time, maybe it's because Seth is around. Whatever it is, she is at her best right before bed. A few nights ago she tried on this darling dress I got from Gymboree that she has refused to wear in the morning. She loved it at night. Then asks, "Can I sleep in it?" My mind instantly flashed to the mornings' tears, the screaming, the spitting, the kicking, I was more than happy to have her sleep in whatever she wanted if it would put an end to that scene.

So now she doesn't have a fit in the morning before school. She leaves happy. She comes home happy.

The night before jammies and outfit.

Last night's pyjamas, today's outfit. You can tell we lived in Asia. She is convinced that if she puts her hand like that it is cute.

In even better news (for me) I got special permssion to have Stella go to school afternoon only on some days. This means that three days a week when Tiger is asleep Stella is at school. Get ready blogging world, Sunny just found nine extra hours for herself! Oh, what will I do with it? Nap, get dinner ready, clean, put away the laundry that has been staring at me since last Friday, think about painting my house like I promised I would in July, kill the snails and slugs that plague my garden, make lists of things to do. Oh, I will do something.

This also means that I now have a few mornings a week to do some things to earn my yearly hand crafted picture frame for Mother's Day. Today we went to Technopolis. We were the ONLY people in the 4-8 year old section of the museum. My kids had a blast.

Tiger conquers Mount Lego

The best news is Stella will be somehow osmosively learning French while I have this time to tell myself I am being productive when I blog. Yay for time.

Spinach Blueberry Chocolate Chocolate Chip Muffins

2011-09-21T13:20:00.000-04:00

Remember when I reported how my children are terribly terribly picky eaters. I tried out the whole Sneaky Chef and Deceptively Delicious thing out and found both of them involved waaaay too much work. My beef with the system was I had to do this massive quasi-canning vegetable puree system. And while I may have pioneer heritage I am no canning domestic diva.

But that hasn't really fixed the problem. Stella is still picky (although she has expanded her veggie pallet she is still sans fruits) and now Tiger is starting to stick his nose at pretty much everything except peanut butter which he daily requests in a bowl just plain (and on sad weak nights sometimes he gets his way...shame).

So, I have these children that I am repsonsible for. Children who should be eating their spinach, brocolli, peas, caulflower and they just don't.

I haven't given up I just take opprotunities when I see it.

For dessert tonight we are having chocolate chocolate chip muffins, except really it is spinach blueberry chocolate chip muffins. It is not a healthy recipe it is full of delcious butter, sugar, and even (gasp) Belgian chocolate melted down. But here is the thing: it is super yummy and it is dessert but they are secretly being fed massive quantities of spinach and blueberries. I found a recipe on allrecipes.com and modified it. It is super chocolately and super yummy.

Here is my recipe:

Sunny's Belgian Spinach Blueberry Chocolate Chocolate Chip Muffins

Ingredients

170 grams melted chocolate (about 1 1/2 candy bars or 6 oz)
1 Tablespoon cocoa powder
1/3 cup unsalted butter
3/4 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup mini semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup frozen spinach
1 cup blueberries (washed

Directions

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F (205 degrees C). Line 12 muffin cups with papers.
In a small saucepan over low heat, melt the semisweet chocolate together with the butter. Let stand until cooled, about 10 minutes.
Cook the spinach in the microwave with about a tablespoon of water for two minutes.
Blend the spinach and frozen or fresh blueberries
Lightly beat the egg. In a small bowl, stir together the chocolate-butter mixture with the spinach blueberry mix, buttermilk, sugar, egg, and vanilla, until blended well.
In a large bowl, stir together flour, soda, and salt. Make a hole in the center of the dry ingredients, pour in the chocolate mixture, and stir until just combined. Stir in the mini chocolate chips. Spoon the batter into the lined muffin cups.
Bake at 400 degrees F (205 degrees C) for 18-20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean. Remove muffin tin from oven and let stand at least 5 minutes, before removing the muffins and letting them cool on a wire rack. Serve warm or cooled; can be frozen as well.

Kids 0 Sunny 1

Missing Manila

2011-09-20T08:05:00.000-04:00

I finally got smart and hired someone to come and clean my home one day a week. Oh, oh, oh why didn't I do this three months ago?

I love my house but it is four levels, four very steep levels and each level has dust and clutter and other things that need to be taken care. Depsite my efforts I feel like I can never get the entire house clean. The other day we had friends over for a Back to School potluck, I spent the entire day cleaning and still had to hide all of my junk in my toilet-less master bathroom. Sigh.

So we hired someone to come and clean our home. She is from the Philippines but unlike any Filipino helper I ever employed when we lived in Manila. She is college educated, a former professional in Manila and making tons more cleaning homes and nannying for diplomatic families than a top job in the Philippines. My heart cries a little bit every time I think about this, that country has a special place in my heart. I would love to see it develop economically.

My house sparkles and shines right now. It smells pretty good too. This is a good things since I will not see my husband until Friday. He has been working late nights. I sorta feel like a diplo-widow right now but luckily these things come in ebbs and flows.

In other news, guess who booked travel plans to Paris? (Moi!)

Francais Maternelle Ecole

2011-09-18T15:56:00.000-04:00

Stella has been going to French preschool now for about 2 1/2 weeks. We took off a few days when Tim and Julie were visiting because when someone flies across a very large ocean to see you and your darling children, you drop everything and hang out, somehow she will be able to catch up, somehow.

My review about this school is mixed but overall I think we are happy with it. It is a public parochial school although as far as I can tell other than a cute baby Jesus statue it doesn't seem to have a religious curriculum.

Stella has had a hard time. She has always been that little girl in the classroom that likes to know the rules, follow the rules, and help the teacher out. Since she cannot understand anything she doesn't know the rules, she doesn't know what is going on, she still doesn't know anybody's name. It has been hard for her. She has had a lot more nightmares than usual. About two or three times a week she wakes up somewhere between three and six a.m. and braves the dark narrow stairs to come into our room. Seth and I have given up trying to put her back and now have a toddler mattress, blanket, and pillow for such an emergency. Yet, when pick her up she is always happy and smiling and excited about her day.

The largest manifestation of her stress is usually in the mornings. She has ALWAYS had issues getting dressed. My very responsible and surprisngly mature four year old turns into a crazy tantrum possessed child in need of an exorcism. It is really quite a show. She spits, screams, kicks, punches she pretty much does anything she can to NOT get dressed. Truthfully we really don't even know what it is that causes this giant fit. We used to think it was just pants or shorts, which maybe it was at one point, but now she is doing it purel as a delay tactic. The girl is smart, she recognizes that if she causes enough grief she MAYBE just MAYBE might not have to go to school.

So far parents are winning but I would be lying if it didn't take an emotional toll on me. Basically I have to either dress her outside and she quickly realizes that clothes are a necssity when the 50 degree (F) wind cuts to the bone or just force the clothes on her and rush her outside so the neighbors can see her (she does have some sense of what the neighbors will think and never throws public fits, a good thing for me, mostly). It is ridiculous, I am tired and I hope this fight ends soon.

I would be lying if I didn't admit that I have wanted to pull her out of school a hundred times now. I miss having her in the morning, I hate having to rush out and get her to school, I miss having Stella play with Tiger in the morning and I am a little sad about her going to full time kindergarten next year. That being said, I can tell it is good for her.

She is starting to make perfect French noises, noises my mouth is incapable of making. After two weeks she made a friend and the best news yet they added an aid that specializes in FSL (French as a Second Language). She now knows the rules and is starting to make sense of her world.

The school is different than American schools in a lot of ways. The most frustrating part is the lack of parent involvement. Parents are not part of the day, they are considered a disruption. It makes me sad. I had such a positive experience when Stella was in a co-op preschool. I loved learning from her teacher and seeing her interact with her peers.

The other difference is what they control. For example they tell me what snacks are allowed on certain days. Our neighbors send their son to a different school and he can't even bring his own snack. He is required to eat the sloppy soup they give him and, get this, he is forced to DRINK it. The horror.

The big difference I found at this school versus other local schools was the grief they did not give me when I expressed my desire to only have Stella attend 15 hours a week instead of 35. I said it before and I will say it again but I just don't think kids need that much school at four years old. Not against daycare but for me it is just not what I want to do with my kids so I really resented the schools that pushed that as the only option.

This is still a grand experiment. Reading this article brought tears to my eyes at parts but it is worth it.

Sending your child away to school is a hard part of parenting. Sending them to a school that you can't talk to the teacher, its a little harder.

I will update the blog as we go along. Advice is appreciated, this is all uncharted territory for us.

Lady and Sir Visit

2011-09-15T05:43:00.000-04:00

Its official! Our guest room has now been dubbed Lady Julie and Sir Tim's quarters.

My oldest best-est friend Julie and her husband Tim came and stayed with us. The children did not like Julie and Tim, they LOVED Julie and Tim. And I can't blame them, I love Julie and Tim myself.

Stella was the bell ringer at Tim and Julie's wedding two years ago. That's right, they entrusted a two year to perform in their wedding procession. We traveled 20 hours overseas to be in and see the wedding. It was so worth it. They hold a special place in our heart, especially for little Stella.

We were able to play tour guide which made us get out and see this beautful country we live in.

At the Royal Palace. Stella dressed up as a princess complete with panda hat. She immediately fell in love with Julie.

Julie and Tim got off the plane and I escorted them directly to Royal Palace which was open for its last day. Stella was so excited to see Julie and go to the palace that she dressed up as a princess. And really, when you are four, you should ALWAYS wear a princess dress to visit any castle because you never know when you might meet a royal. And please remember to wear a panda hat with your dress to make the occasion memorable.

We wouldn't want them to get over jetlag too easily so the next day after a delightful Stella and Tiger wake up call we went to Brugge.

We took a boat ride to see Brugge

We took a boat tour around Brugge. It was gorgeous. Naps were missed but it was worth it. After Brugge we went to the North Sea and checked out the cold cold beaches of Belgium.

Stella and her new best friend Julie. Running around Brugge.

A royal family photo. Tim and Seth are hilarious when they are together. Doesn't Seth look a little like Henry VIII

At the North Sea with Julie

At the beach of De Haan

We took a slightly more restful Sunday but still found time to go and see giant puppets. Rule of thumb: when in Europe ALWAYS see giant puppets if they are nearby. If you don't they will eat you in the night.

Giant Don Quixote

Sadly on Monday Seth had to be a normal person and go to work so Julie, Tim, the kiddos, and I continued our grand tour of Brussels.


The former hunting grounds of the royal family made a pretty awesome park.

Grand Place is still pretty grand.

I plan on starring in my own version of Swan Lake this winter. Buy your tickets now.

Seth and Tim are serious about downtown Belgium. Serious.

No Belgium visit would be complete without a revived medieval castle visit so on Tuesday we went to a castle. It was beautiful but the tour was long and impossible to escape. My emergency boredom pacifier for children (iPod) was single and my children were double. This led to me being the most adored person in the tour group of the castle.

Tim and Tiger became pretty tight. Tiger in his usual dead weight hand holding move.

Greeting our subjects.

When we went to take Tim and Julie to the train station for the next leg of their European vacation Stella broke down in tears, which led Julie to break down in tears, which led me to break down in tears. 21 years of friendship, two generations, it doesn't get much better than that.

Stella with her new best friend: my best friend Julie

The Beginning of Pre-K

2011-09-01T15:45:00.000-04:00

Today Stella started her first day of Pre-K. The entire schooling system has been nerve wracking from the beginning. I started my search back in March when we found out where we were going to live. No one from the schools wanted to talk with me about it then because of my lack of French speakng skills and the fact that we weren't in country. Once we got to Belgium there was no room so it was waitlist after waitlist.

Here we are today, off a waitlist and in a preschool, a completely French public preschool.

This school is nice-ish. The building is new and the classroom has a lot of fun things in it but there are 50 kids and two teachers stuffed into two open classrooms. It is pretty crazy and I am not happy about the class size.

Stella is the lone English speaker, not expat or non-French speaker, but English speaker.

We dropped her off and she managed to get through the day, learn a few words, eat a small snack but by lunch when I picked her up she had enough. She broke down in tears and hugged me. She said it was fine but it just had too much French. I feel that way every day of my life here in Belgium.

Tomorrow will be a new day and maybe a few less tears. This is my grand experiment to see how long it takes my kiddo to have French comprehension and then be able to speak. Maybe they can translate for me.

WORD OF ADVICE TO THOSE GOING TO BRUSSELS WITH PRESCHOOL AGE KIDS

1. Find out your address

2. Get a French Speaker

3. Call the closest schools to your home and enroll or get on waitlist.

Take That Waitlist

2011-08-28T09:10:00.002-04:00

Stella got into a school. It is nearby our home, French, and they are fine with half days.

Take that suckas!

Ka-Boom

2011-08-28T09:09:00.000-04:00

When we moved into our new home there were a lot of new smells and sounds to get used to. The kids keep claiming there is a ghost in the house and I am pretty sure the ghost is the ghost of old plumbing past.

Getting used to this place is like wearing a new pair of shoes. A little uncomfortable but then you get to know each other and understand your quirks. Quirks such as every time it rains the smell of sewage seeps in from the drain on the first floor laundry room. Remedy: dump water down the drain. I don't know why this happens or why the water trick does but it does and I am sticking with it. Too bad it rains every day here.

The other thing we were getting used to is the heater. This home is heated by hot water. This is a super bummer to interior design. Entire rooms are totally confined to the placement of the hot water radiator. It really messes with my feng shui. The heater was replaced before we moved in and the former tenants and emabssy person rave on how fantastic the thing is. Hmph.

When we moved in we would hear the heater turn on, instead of the normal gas lighting sounds it would go "BOOM!" everytime. I was scared at first but wrote it off as part of the home and its weird ways. After all previous tenants lived with that heater for two years without burning to a crisp.

Last Thrusday we had the yearly heater inspector come and check out our house. When he witnessed our small nuclear explosion heater his eyes got big and with his Flemish accented English informed me that our heater was, "very dangerous." No problem he had a solution: keep my front door and back windows open always.

I don't know about you but I am not super excited about leaving my front door open for every crazy and hairy spider to come inside. That being said I would like to live to see grandchildren someday. And the worst part of all is I can't seem to get anyone else worried about this. Seth is on the case and in the meantime it is 58 degrees outside and my windows are open (let's not talk about why it is 58 degrees at the end of August). Oh, in Belgium there are no screens on windows. I don't know why they think they are above keeping insects out of their home, but they are. So bugs are crawling inside while I make the choice to either have hot water and warmth in my home or bugs.

The Almost Amber Alert

2011-08-28T08:57:00.000-04:00

Last week we had people over to celebrate our furniture removal. It was a lot of fun. As you may notice from my last post our home has a lot of floors. Four to be precise.

The dining area is on level 1, the playroom is on level 0 (thats how we roll here in Europe the first floor is always neutral and called 0). So the adults are chatting away in the dining room and our friends' two year old daughter Kherington decides to go to the playroom. No big deal. Stella and Tiger are still eating and we are having a good time until we realize it is super quiet downstairs. Too quiet.

We go down to check on Kherington and about 10 minutes has gone by. I should also point out here that Kherington is two years old and a tiny little thing.

When we get downstairs there is no Kherington in the playroom or the garage or the laundry room or bathroom. In fact there is no Kherington in my house. The door is open and she is gone. We look up the street and down the street and see no sign of her.

Everyone goes into panic mode. Seth and Kherington's mom run towards a nearby park and I check the house further. We look in the yard and start screaming her name.

Ten minutes go by and there is no sign of her. I start to think maybe it is time to call that famous 112 emergency number.

I go to the backyard one more time and come back and there she is walking home. No idea where she went or what she did. She was gone probably 20 minutes and somehow came back. Panic.

Part of the problem with this whole situation is my new house. It doesn't lock from the inside unless you have a key. And you can't get out unless you have a key if you locked. Frankly as far as fire safety goes it is a nightmare but this is Belgium and you get what you get. My kids luckily have yet to decide that leaving the house is a good idea but I am now a little wiser and a hold my babies at night a little tighter.

New Adventures in Town Homes

2011-08-28T08:49:00.000-04:00

10 days have gone by since I have blogged and I just feel like life is getting past me. I might do several blog posts to catch up on the world as it continues to turn.

The first major event that happened: after six weeks the embassy finally took away all of the furniture that was in our house. Lest you forget here is what happened: the old furniture timed out they decided it was time to update and guess who gets the new issue stuff: me.

I will admit it is better than the old stuff in that it is not a brocade or something Scarlet O'hara would make a dress out of but it could still be more neutral. How many of your out in the FS have something to match mustard yellow? Well thats what the couches are in.

So when the kind folks at JAS (pronounced JAZZ here and I don't know what it even stands for but it is management section) furnished our house they decided to put entire sets in. Even though I was already at post they did not at that time feel my opinion was important in the matter, they were going to give me the entire set for each room whether I liked it or whether it fit. And this being Europe and this being a townhome, by golly, it didn't fit.

So we asked them to take 75% of it away.

In which they replied they will someday.

Somday turned out to be 50 days later and while I don't mind having massive couch forts in the winter when your house looks like it could be on an episode of hoarders before you have even unpacked your boxes you have a problem.

But that was resolved and now I am free. And in a stroke of fate/luck the carpenter who puts up paintings had a cancelation in my neighborhood and showed up at the exact second the movers were taking away furniture.

So get this: I got rid of all of the excess ~~crap~~ furniture AND my paintings are up.

So here is the tour (please note I toyed on not posting these until my house was immaculate but I realized that is never going to happen. So judge away, I give up):

Stella's room

Stella's doll section of her room. Note the awkward slanty roof walls.

These windows turn into black out shades and are amazing. They bring a lot of light to the room.

Kids bathroom with no toilet. There are no toilets in any of the bathrooms. Very common in Belgium.

Puppet theater nook.

Guest room.

Toilet room with no sink. Seriously, whats up Belgium?

Three flights of stairs like this. All said there are over 50 stairs in the home.

My office.

Ok, still need to unpack. Office other side.

Master bedroom being jumped on.

Master bath, once again sans toilets. Why two sinks if you don't give me any counter space? Sigh, Belgium.

From the second story looking down.

Living room/dining room

Porch that will someday be nice with my newly killed orange tree.

breakfast nook

Toy room, always attacked by toys.

TINY fridge, TEENY oven.

Garage post furniture removal.

Big enough to fit this.

Chasing Summer, Cruising with Kids/Babies

2011-08-16T07:52:00.000-04:00

The month of July was entirely composed of 60 degree days in Brussels. While the United States had people being sent to the ER for heat exhaustion, we sat in wet 60 degree days. And while I do not wish 100 degree weather, I felt a bit miffed that summer never came to Belgium.

And then August hit. August was no different than July, weather wise, luke-cold, rainy, gray except for one thing: the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE CAME AND ATTACKED EVERY CITIZEN OF THE E.U. Or so you might think by the way the town looks.

The entire city of Brussels is gone. Restaurants are closed, doctors gone, schools locked, even retail shops: closed. And not just a gone fishing sign in the door. Closed for the ENTIRE month of Aout (August).

Since Seth's job is directly related to the entire city of Brussels and the entire population that has vanished, things were quiet. A little too quiet.

So we decided to join this party and go on our own vacation.

With less than two weeks time I found a cruise for our family of four and plane tickets to get us there.

The entire family, including the kiddos, went on a cruise of the Adriatic.

When I booked it I was less concerned with destinations than I was about price, rooms, and dates.

And so we went on a cruise.

We ended up going on Royal Caribbean. They were able to find us adjoining rooms, which is so much better than having our children in a bunk bed above us. However much I love my children, I love them more when we sleep in separate rooms. Especially since they go to bed 3 or 4 hours earlier than I do.

The room was great, mostly. There were two rooms each with a queen bed. There was a door that connected our rooms. This meant separate bathrooms, separate showers, and a lot more space for our kiddos to play. The one problem we had was that we were above the promenade and every parade and party they had, we heard it. This woke up the kids a few times and now that I have cruised I am wiser and will avoid an interior promenade room.

The cruise started in Venice. We flew RyanAir which as far as I can tell is about on par with the classiness of the NYC subway system. No frills but we got there and probably saved over $1500 by using this bus with wings.

A street play and donkey in Koper.

The cruise went to Koper, Slovenia which was gorgeous. The air was crisp and clean but the town was sleepy, it was August in Europe, and it was a town of 50,000 on its biggest day. I told Seth I was going to take notes for future bidding based on our land visits. The highlight of Koper was finding a playground and letting the kids run wild.

Stella found a park in Koper.

Cruising with kiddos was a new experience entirely. The pros: unlimited options and access to food. No longer was I worried if my kids ate or what they ate. Anything they could dream of food-wise, they got. At our main evening dinner service our waiter knew that my kids were crazy about chocolate milk so every night they got a special chocolate milk. Admittedly I was unhappy about some of their dining choices but they were happy, it was vacation, and now I can purge their bodies from the pizza, chicken fingers, and french fries.

After Slovenia we went to Ravenna, Italy and spent the day at the beach. The water was clear and refreshing and it was nice to go to the beach after our cold cold wet summer.

We would usually spend the late morning to early afternoon out and about and then go home, give Tiger a nap, and one parent would rest while the other had a date with Stella.

After Ravenna we hit Bari, Italy. Bari was HOT. Super hot. We took a tour and I realized really quickly that I do not like having to stand and listen to a tour guide, I just like to wander. This may be influenced by my children having the same preferences and a lack of self-control. They just ran at each stop so even if I wanted to hear about the history I was chasing Stella and Tiger who were chasing pigeons.

Stella runs in Bari, Italy.

Being on the actual cruise was fun. There were things to do (mini-golf, tacky ice shows, swimming). I wished that the kids club was more fun. Stella tried it out once made a craft and complained it was boring. She went another time and they were showing Sponge Bob. While I have no problem with Sponge Bob, Stella is super super sensitive and just can't handle shows like that. Plus I think TV is a cheap way to watch kids. TV is for parents in need not professional caretakers.

So C- on the Kids Club. Royal Babies, for Tiger, was not much better. They had a few toys on a mat in a bar gone playroom with a grand piano in it. I wonder who the genius was that thought a grand piano was a good idea for a toddler playroom. Use your imagination as to what kids would play with: toys or loud expensive piano.

So Royal Babies: D. If that. Not only were the playgroups weak they had NO swimming facilities for kids who aren't toilet trained. Ask any parent of two how one child would react being told their older sibling could swim but they couldn't. We fudged it (pun intended) and just let him swim anyhow with a swim diaper (which was against the rules). There were no accidents (nor did I think there would be) but it kept me on edge the whole time. I really wish they would have a small paddling pool for little ones.

My final complaint was the area around the kiddie pool area was a slippery as ice. Both my kids fell several times every day. Tiger gave up walking and started crawling because it was just too slippery. We are lucky the injuries were not more than pride. Once again who gets the genius award for choosing smooth and slick as the flooring near a kiddie pool.

There was a token pool guy sweeping water away but that did not solve the problem. Mats would have solved the problem but somehow they didn't get this memo yet.

I had a lot of anxiety about the two hour dining each night with strangers. We were told they tried to match you with similar families. Our children were the only ones at dinner, our dining partners were very gracious and understanding and British. It was like I was living the BBC. They were fantastic.

After Bari we went to my favorite stop by far: Dubrovnik, Croatia.

Dubrovnik was scenic and breathtaking historically and naturally. It was crisp, not too hot, not cold and just scenic. They haven't converted to the euro yet so prices were reasonable. The people spoke English and were really helpful and friendly. It was such a welcome surprise.

Dubrovnik, Croatia

Stella runs Dubrovnik

Tiger runs Dubrovnik

Our final day on the cruise was in Venice. I could tell Venice had the most to see but the crowds made it really crazy and anxious. We saw a lot of things from the outside because both my children and myself could not bear the idea of waiting in line for an hour to see the inside of a cathedral.

Venice was gorgeous and PACKED

We loved cruising, had a great time as a family and despite my complaints I thought it was a great value and a good time. If I did it again I would bring another family to spread the joy/misery of traveling with kids.

Now we are back to Brussels, bring on the rain.

When in Brussels...

2011-08-04T16:59:00.000-04:00

Before I get any more threats, note that pictures of the house are coming. For now just imagine a more hipster version of Versailles.

This is the picture that came up in Google search when I typed in hipster and Versailles

After fixing my spigot and assuring it was responsible in all ways the house is starting to shape up. We have the light-weight paintings up and have been informed that if we ask for a trick and not a treat we might get the embassy to come before Halloween to put up mirrors and all of that mega framing I got done in Manila.

I am still debating paint on a few accent walls in the house but the steps involved to accomplish that task are far too many and far too complicated.

In other news... we got new neighbors!

And not just one super awesome set but two.

Yesterday our neighbors across the street moved in. They are Finnish and have two darling little girls that are perfect playmate age for Stella. The day of their move I invited the kids over to play and it was tea party, after princess picnic, after princess slumber party. The girls have been going to an international school in their last post and they speak English. Their parents were happy to find someone to keep up their English skills.

Tomorrow we get another set of neighbors. They are American and the FSO works with Seth. They also have two boys in the same age range as Stella. Pretty perfect.

Now that I have neighbors to speak to life is starting to feel pretty normal again. I feel less foreign, isolated, and lonely and more like a real person.

Oh, and the most important news of all: Seth was tenured. Hooray Seth! I guess that means he gets to keep doing his dream job and I get to to keep blogging about changing diapers and finding preschools overseas.

To celebrate we are going on a cruise, with kids. I am nervous and excited, advice is welcome.

And since you came all the way here let me leave you with this treat: orange chocolate mannequin pis:

Nothing tastes quite as good as a orange chocolate urinating child...these jokes never stop getting old for me.

Pervert or Practical?

2011-08-01T08:10:00.000-04:00

Remember how just 12 hours ago I was blogging about my calcified spigot?

It was bumming me out that my spigot was broken and it was going to be a fight to get the embassy to fix it. I have no idea how to do my own plumbing or how to de-calcify a spigot.

And then I started to think.

Remember in science class how they would put the egg in vinegar overnight and the shell would disappear?

I remembered that and started thinking if only I could soak my spigot in vinegar then I could fix it.

If only.

But how?

I could get a baggie and fill it with vinegar but it would be bottom heavy or I could get a water balloon (which we don't have), still same problem.

So then I started thinking outside the box. What is balloon like and can hold liquid? Hmmmm.

So I came up with this plan:

Yup, a condom. The perfect solution to holding the vinegar in all night so it could make the calcium disintegrate.

The problem is my neighbors are not super friendly, pretty nosy, and already suspicious of us because we are foreign.

So I went out at 11 last night and rubber-uped the spigot.

In the morning it was good as new and now my hose fits and as far as I can tell no one could tell that my spigot wore a condom all night.

Please insert inappropriate jokes here:

The Cliché of Moving

2011-07-31T16:31:00.000-04:00

As I promised six days ago, I would blog about everything that has happened in the past three weeks.

So, if you review your Sunny blogs as of late you will find that about three weeks ago I threw a tantrum. Like my children's tantrums this was loud, obnoxious, and did nothing to change anyone's mind about anything. The reason I was upset: we were put in temporary housing because our permanent house was still occupied when we moved here. This was a bit of a hassle but you learn very quickly in the foreign service that hassle is the name of the COLA/differential game, nothing is easy overseas, nothing. So you suck it up and deal with it.

Here is my list of things I suck up and deal with:
1. Moving
2. Not having my stuff for a year
3. Flying internationally economy class without access to any lounge or anything to make my life comfy
4. Having to start all over and set up things like internet, which I may add if you hate your local cable man just think of how fun it is to have that same experience in a language you can't understand
5. Not understanding anything

This list could go on but I really want to give you some content and not just ranting today. So, as I was saying we got put in temporary housing. We were told we would be there almost two months.

Everything was great until we made a call to find out when we were moving. They told us we were moving in a week and we had to pack everything ourselves.

So, they dropped off twenty box and left me to repack our UAB.

I should note here that when the movers came to pack our UAB it took two men about four hours to pack the UAB and they are professional, and they do not have darling children who like to constantly be around you, that like to touch everything, that will not go an leave you alone to pack.

So, that was the last post. I cried about that because it just didn't seem fair that I should have to the packing and cleaning alone without help when it wasn't my fault we were not put in the permanent house right away. (Note: Seth took time off to help and pack but it still sucked).

Since I was given no option but to pack and clean myself that is what I did. It was, as I thought, awful. There were some good moments in it all but none of those moments involved packing or cleaning.

Our new friends came through and made sure were taken care of the day of our move. They fed us and made us feel like normal people. We have been lucky to find people where ever we go that are just good people. People who know how to be a good friend and neighbor. I hope that I can be that kind of person to others because they are lifesavers.

So...the day of the move was a mess. We had the movers coming to the temporary house to get our self-packed UAB (we ran out of boxes) at 9:00, we had movers coming to our permanent house with our stuff from Manila that had been in storage in Antwerp for a year. They were coming at 8:30. We also had to get our kids to the daycare/babysitting at 8:30. Last I checked there were only two parents so we were in trouble. Luckily, we befriended a newlywed who is kickin' it Belgium while her husband has an internship. She was a lifesaver. She supervised the temporary house move and I was able to get the kids to the daycare while Seth met the movers at our new home.

Remember that weird Mark Walberg movie called the Perfect Storm where all of the elements of disaster come together for one moment and make a colossal wave? That was my life for about two hours. Two moving vans came to one house and tried to unload crap at the same time.

Eight hours later we had mostly everything in our home.

Our home is a four-story town home. It has five bedrooms and four bathrooms but only three toilets. Oh, and not one toilet is in any of the bathrooms. Of the rooms with toilets only one has a sink. This is not conducive to teaching your children hand washing skills or for adults to practice those learned skills.

The kids decided to sleep on the top floor. Even though it is a different floor than mine I like it because it has pitch black shades. This is good in a country that has the sun stay up til 11 in June. The funnest part of their floor is the little nook on the hallway that we made into a puppet theater.

The floor below is our guest room, office and master. The office doubles as a dressing room and has closets galore which is good because the master's closet is teeny and we only have one dresser.

The main level has a kitchen that is newly redone and true to form has a dorm sized fridge. Which is fine because in the garage we have an extra fridge and freezer. The main room has a kitchen with a breakfast nook, dining area, and living room. This is the first time in my parenting life that the living room has not doubled as a playroom.

The ground floor has a good sized garage that is way too steep to actually get our car in. It will be a place that that kids can ride their bikes if the embassy ever comes to get their excess furniture.

So... we got the new issue furniture, which I really like (relatively). However, they decided to put the entire set of furniture in the home. This means we have eight extra Victorian chairs, three lazy boy type chairs, four end tables, two sofas, and three dressers. Our tandem garage is stuffed to the brim with furniture. We have been waiting patiently for them to come and take it but it looks like that just isn't going to happen for a while.

My final issue with the house is the readiness of it all.

Sure they sent a clean team to make sure it was tidy when we came. Everything else though, a wash.

There are nails in the walls, holes in the walls, and not just small holes GIANT gaping holes. They just didn't do the painting or walls. They have told us we can put in a work order to get it fixed but it bums me out they just didn't do it right the first time.

I have told Seth I am happy to fix it myself if they would let me pick the paint color.

My favorite part of the house so far is the backyard. I decided to start a garden. I know NOTHING of gardening. I have never started one.

I ordered some seeds bought some dirt and now the grand experiment is beginning. This would be super easy but I have been frustrated because the spigot in my yard is calcified. When I put a work order in they informed us it was our responsibility to fix that.

I have problems with this on several levels.

Level I: We just moved in and in no way are responsible or caused the calcification that happened over years to make the spigot un-usable

Level II: Part of our responsibility to care for the house is the yard and garden making access to water a necessity and not optional.

Level III: No on in this household has the skills or ability to install a spigot if we even did feel responsible or want to fix it ourselves.

I am filing this on the list of things I have to suck up and deal with:

6. Having a spigot that was broken before I came and being told I have to repair it myself.

And so you have it folks. The past three weeks.

I would love, love, love to give you pictures but until the embassy comes and gets their furniture I cannot really move in and would rather not show you the mess of settling in.

I will however leave you with a picture of my garage showing all the junk we are storing for the embassy.

Can I be on Hoarders - U.S. Embassy?

While You Were Cooking in the U.S. of A

2011-07-25T08:41:00.000-04:00

We moved. It was every bit as annoying as I thought it would be with some added twists. What twists you ask? We had two separate moves at the exact same time and had to get our kids to the arranged babysitting at the exact time as the two separate moves. This required three adults and last I checked there were only two adults in this family unit.

Oh, the fun! But here is the end of the story: we moved in. We like our place and we are happy.

So... before you delete me from you reader know that the stories are coming with pictures of our U.S. government issued furniture and digs (we got the newest edition of furniture which is good and bad).

In the meantime my job beckons and I have to get some work done for my client and then I am all yours blogosphere. So until you start paying me I must complete this project before Yo Gabba Gabba ends.

Sunny's Tantrum

2011-07-07T03:28:00.000-04:00

This post is one of those screaming posts. It is too early/late to call anyone in the U.S. thus my poor blog is the victim of my ranting and panics. The panic as of late: moving, again.

This is our fourth move in one year. Fourth (Manila, Park City, Arlington, Brussels house #1). None of them have been pretty, all of them have brought me to tears at one point, but I admittedly confess they could be worse. For example, the DOS has been kind enough to hire movers and packers the day of the move. That doesn't change the five days prior to the move where I was making piles of junk and running around like a zombie mom. However, the day of the move is usually the least stressful because I just need to watch the movers come and pack and take away the fruits of my labor.

Some of you may remember when we came to Brussels we were put in temporary housing. We were expecting to be here for two months but the word on the pipeline is we are out of here as of next Friday. Hooray! A light at the end of this state of year long temporary tunnel. A home to call my own for 22 months.

But no journey is without trouble, certainly not when your life is controlled by a giant bureaucracy. A giant bureaucracy that is even bigger here because it serves three missions and THOUSANDS (plural) of U.S. government/military families.

So I suppose I shouldn't have broken down into tears (yes, again) when I was informed that I had to box up my own UAB and have my temporary home in tip top shape. And since they gave us all of a week's notice of the move (we called them, they didn't call us) it isn't like Seth is able to take off gobs of time to help me.

Which leaves me, Sunny, your hero, alone, to somehow watch a two year old, four year old, box up 1100 pounds of our belongings alone (without any tissue or packing materials or tape, only boxes). And somehow in the middle of having my little ones at my feet and all of my worldly possessions boxed up I am going to pull out my magical broom from you know where and clean our temporary apartment to a Marriott standard of living. You know, because I have a vacuum (oh, wait I don't) and all of my cleaning supplies (hmmm, nope don't have that. Does Windex count?) Nevermind that they have a make-ready team that comes and cleans after me to get it ready. If it isn't clean enough, we are fined.

So who do I make the check out to?

I know my blog has been viewed before by folks at Main State with appreciation and criticism for talking about these sort of issues. This time, I hope they are reading (and lets put a disclaimer here, this is the non-employee talking not the employee). The family takes on a huge burden by giving up everything to follow the spouse and organizing these moves. However, it is not right to make them pick up the slack for their inability to get us into our housing in a timely manner. I don't mind temporary housing but I do mind having to do the packing myself to get into the permanent home. And I also mind the expectation that I have to do a move-out standard checkout twice, because the year and a half notice that we we gave them of our arrival wasn't enough time for them to work out a place for us to move to.

So... for those who think the developed world is all chocolate and castles please note there is always a flip side.

Enter Jullet

2011-07-04T16:33:00.000-04:00

This past week was a roller coaster, literally if you added liquid.

The highlight of the week: Uncle Ben came to visit. Our first visitor and hopefully the beginning of many more to come. I love having visitors because it actually gives me the impetus to go out and see things. With two small children there is never a good time to go see a cultural event, add a guest into the formula and all of the sudden it makes more sense.

Poor sick Stella.

The lowlight of this week: Stella was terribly sick. 30 hours of crying, vomiting, rolling around in pain, long baths, lullabies. There was insult to injury when some maintenance workers came right as the poor girl fell asleep and decided to test the burglar alarm. Fortunately by the time Ben came she was able to start tolerating food and by Saturday morning she was good as new.

Saturday was the embassy Independence Day party. It was held on a HUGE field and had a lot of fun typical fourth of July things to do. Sadly this is Brussels which means 60 degree weather so the water activities may have not been the best idea. Still nothing intimidates kids. I saw tons of blue-lipped, teeth chattering kids going down the water slide again and again. My kids had to make do with the tricycle races and as many weird flavored french fries they could handle.

Tiger rolls into town with his villainous 'stache

Stella and Uncle Sam. Note the butterfly face.

Stella and Tiger loved the party. There was face painting and Stella is becoming quite the face paint connoisseur, this time she was a butterfly. Tiger decided to sport a mustache. Nothing says America like a mustache.

After the family party we decided to play tourist and we drove into downtown Brussels in search of the perfect waffle, chocolate, and a statue of a boy peeing. We found all of that and some more.

Tiger notes the clashing Gothic and Baroque styles a the Grand Place. Silly Louis XIV, what was he thinking?

I don't know what they sell or perform here but I would like to know.

Stella runs at Grand Place. I think I am going to make an album of her around the world running away.

Uncle Ben Totem Pole. Also please note the kids faces are still painted. We had a lot of smiles, especially at Tiger and his mustache.

Mannequin Pis. If this were a movie he would come to life when no one was looking and urinate on things, luckily this isn't a movie. This city and really every city I have lived in so far has enough people urinating on things without this statue anthropomorphizing.

The next day was Sunday. We all slept in and were late for church. I justified it since Stella had been so sick on Friday and I thought she needed the rest, in truth we all needed the rest. Maybe someday I will bore you all with my strong opinions about church overseas and trying to combine people who do not speak the same language, until then you should all know they asked me to be the children music leader. I have to teach songs in French and English since we have both languages in our congregation. If nothing else maybe this will force me to learn a bit more French or at least work on my pronunciation.

Sunday afternoon we checked out yet another amazing Brussels park. They all seem to be themed on some kind of crashed ship or plane. This one was a pirate ship. I am amazed by the endless parks, forests, and manicured grounds.

Monday is Independence Day. Seth has to go to a fancy work party in the evening so we decided to do one last family trip. We went to Oceade which is near this giant atom, luckily it was not real or the universe would be in peril. The atom:

The Atomium

We spent a few hours in an indoor water park and left thoroughly exhausted. We had a nice leisurely European lunch (translation s-l-o-w) and enjoyed the sun, which is a rare enough that you have to take advantage when it comes out.

We are tired but feel like we gave our country the proper respect by running around with very little clothes and pretending it is summer.

Day 25

2011-06-28T15:41:00.003-04:00

Every post, every move, stateside, international it hits me right about now. Day 25: Brussels.

The sun was out, the weather was gorgeous, still it hit me hard.

The reality that I have once again for the third (we still have one more move in a month) time in a year moved, uprooted from all of my new friends. I have dealt with moody and nervous kids who don't like or really understand why we change up. I have endured living in a state of temporary for almost an entire year.

The first three weeks I just run on excitement and adrenaline but something happens when I start to settle and it hits me. A tsunami of emotion that rushes over. It usually lasts about an hour and after a few tissues, a few episodes of Wonder Pets, I get it together and plug myself back in. I guess this means that this place is starting to feel like home.

Cirque

2011-06-26T17:57:00.000-04:00

This weekend we finally got out and decided to explore the city.

We went to the Helicine Balloon festival. It was a surreal and pleasant surprise.

Despite Stella still believing that summer is just around the corner and never appropriately dressing for the cold, everyone had a great time. We met up with some new friends who have darling kids around the same age and explored the grounds.

There was face painting.

New friends

Weird circus performers

And again.

A failed balloon launch.

Lots of fun.

It feels good to start to feel normal again. I am signed up to take a French language class at the Belgium Free University this fall. We are looking into signing Stella up for summer camps (which they call stages here, who knows why). She is going to do this with a friend who also just moved here and it is sparse on the French.

Imperméable

2011-06-20T08:58:00.000-04:00

I knew coming here that it was going to rain a lot. Logically I knew that, everything and everyone said it rains a lot here. However, living it is different than reading about it. It rains a lot here. A lot. Pretty much every day last week it has rained at least at one point in the day.

The kids and I are trying to embrace this wet weather. The raincoats have become an absolute necessity as is our new Phil and Ted's stroller rain cover. Too bad I left all my rain coats in HHE.

Tiger going wild on the grounds of the Ambassador's residence.

This past week was up and down but overall I felt like it was up. The ups: we went to a fun party at the ambassador's house. It had bounce house, food, and gorgeous grounds for the kids to run amuck.

Loving my waffle, Tiger is not convinced.

I met some new friends and went to an open market near Stockel. I tried my first real Belgian waffle. Yummy.

Oh and huge! We got our UAB this past week. For those who are not pawns of the bureaucracy UAB stands for UnAccompanied Baggage. Acronyms are plentiful in the foreign service and combined with a large military presence at this post my life is acronym-ed overload.

Who knew how much I missed those 700 pounds (318 k).

This is the movers blocking our condo driveway. I was so happy they did. Otherwise we would have had to wait a week to get a permit to park. Fortunately no one came or went until they were done. Yay!

Now we can have dress up and tea parties. And most important for my son: train tracks. We inherited a massive amount of train tracks and cars before we left and it has occupied Tiger's days and nights.

The low point of the week was dealing with the Belgian school system, again.

This paragraph sums the general populations feelings about schooling starting at age 2 1/2.

I think it is great that they have so many schooling options for free at such a young age. However, I don't think that day care (which let's be honest that is what we are dealing with here when you send your kids away 35 hours a week) is SUPERIOR to keeping your kids at home.

In Belgium they think schooling and their school system is superior to anything taught at home, even at age 2. It is, after all, "recommended by education experts."

So as I have been calling, touring, talking, translating emails with all of the local schools I have been hitting a HUGE cultural wall when I ask about flexibility.

They find it absurd that I would want my children there only part of the week and not the complete 35 hours that they provide. They feel it will stress the children to take them out during the day and away from the other children in the school.

I started crying after I had called what I had hoped was a promising expensive bilingual school. I asked them if I could leave her home on Tuesdays and Thursdays and they said that it was not best for her. They said it was better for her to be at school. I told them that I thought school was good but that children need to spend time at home with their parents if they can. They told me that I could not teach her as well as they could, and that is sorta when I hit my limit. I thanked them and told them we weren't interested in their school.

After this I was ready to throw in the towel and call it quits but then I talked to another American and an Irish mom. They had the same problems and the way they deal with it, the way that I learned in Asia, smile, nod, say okay, and then do what you want.

So...I am going to sign my daughter up in a school around the corner from our home and keep her home when I want, because I can, because she is my kid, because I am not going to let these schools take away of my quality Stella time. And it will be okay.

So here are some pictures of our temp house and sites around Brussels for the curious.

The living room. Also note the French doors. We call them Belgian doors here.

Our balcony and tipping door/fresh air. At first I thought the door was going to fall on me.

Dining area

Kitchen. Love this kitchen.

Don't have a lot of love for the fridge. It is like 1.5 dorm fridges.

Balcony #2

Kids' bathroom/laundry room

Serious bathtub faucets around here.

Tiger's room. I think it was 9:30 pm when I took this photo. Do you see the problem?

Balcony from master bedroom and view.

Stella's room with three beds and none of them made. Nice.

Master bedroom. Not a ton of room for clothes but I like the floors and balcony.

At a park nearby our house.

Seth digging his first real Belgian waffle.

Tiger at the park.

A massive playground near our home.

I am not sure if it looks like a beehive or an atom. Either way it is crazy, a little dangerous, and a ton of fun for Stella (a headache for me with Tiger who is WAAY to young to climb that steep incline).

A display in the store. Made me laugh.

Stella asked if this was a castle.

People are serious about their plants here.

Whit Weekend

2011-06-12T01:18:00.002-04:00

This weekend is a long weekend. Apparently it is the weekend of the Pentecost and tomorrow is Whit Sunday. In the old days everyone used to dress up on white. I might just for the fun of it. But since Sunday holidays don't really mean any time off from work Whit Sunday has been extended to Whit Monday. Isn't that lovely? A new holiday we get to celebrate!

Yesterday was a new experience for us. We took an hour drive and went to the commissary. It was a beautiful drive. There were a lot of farms on the way and it reminded me of what I always thought the French country looked like (although I recognize this is the Belgian country, I never thought much about it before we bid on Belgium).

Here are some pictures of our drive.

A lot of farms. Although compared to the U.S. they are seasonally about two months behind because it is SOO cold.

The awesome mansion in the little town we were in.

I would like to imagine they were training for the Tour de France but they were probably just bicycle club.

When we got to the commissary I entered with wide eyes. HUGE. A giant department type store, a grocery store with prices less than DC, and an out doors-y store. Amazing.

The commissary is for military use but we get to use the store and other things and it is such a privilege. Especially considering how expensive everything is here. Everything.

This is what my cupboards looked like before the commisary

And after:

But the weekend just keeps getting better. We ended up going to a little party. And the best part of all, I got to meet other people. They were smiling and a bit sarcastic and understood why I was having preschool panic attacks it was fantastic.

But it just gets better.

Sunday we finally made it to church. There was a bit of a disaster when we arrived and the building had about a liter deep of flooding (I am sooo European sounding using the metric system). This was actually the best thing that could have happened to us socially. This meant 30 minutes of church and then everyone was supposed to leave so they could do repairs on the building. What ended up happening was 30 minutes of church and then we got to meet everyone in the congregation. There was another family that had arrived that day and they had four girls. I met a mom who has a daughter a year younger than Stella and they were instantly best of friends. It got even better. We were invited to dinner that night by some folks.

At dinner we celebrated Father's day (its a week early here) and a few birthdays. It was just perfect.

All of this fun meant we have been staying up WAAAY too late for the kids. They usually go to bed at 7 and wake up at 7. The sun in Belgium starts to set at 10:00. This means that if we put them to bed at 7 the sun is scorching in their room. The kids have been going to sleep around 9 and waking up at 6:30. Today it added up and both Stella and Tiger were grouch-monsters. We thought we would turn this perfect three day weekend into another marathon day but the kids would have none of it. We had four melt-downs before 10 so we scrapped the idea of seeing Manequin Pis and just went swimming. After both kids crashed Seth and I napped and when I woke up everything was right in the world again.

This guy will have to wait.

Unsettled - Belgian Preschhools

2011-06-10T15:08:00.001-04:00

We have been in Brussels for a solid week. The kids are almost on a schedule although I still seem to have one child or another wake up every night. They must decide beforehand and take turns.

Today I toured two more preschools. This whole process and business stresses me out. The school employees have very limited English but it is more than language that is foreign.

All of the preschools have a cafeteria and the children eat breakfast, snack, and lunch there (and dinner if you have the after school program). It looked like a big old army sized pot of Belgian stew. I am pretty sure my picky eaters would starve, frankly, I would starve.

The class to teacher ratio is HUGE. In the 2.5-3 year old class there are 14 kids to one teacher and in the 4 year old class it is 24 to 1 teacher.

The day is super wicked long. It starts at 8:30 and ends at 3:30. Tiger would nap at the school, which I cannot see happening ever. He doesn't go to sleep for his dad I don't see how being one of 14 is going to make things easier. The teachers were confident.

One of the three schools I toured said I could take him out at lunch time and take him home. The other schools claimed it would disturb their day if I came at lunch to pick up my children.

The last school I toured was the size of a small university. That had children there ranging from 2-18. It was crazy-town. The preschool section was separate but it was all part of the same campus and it was really intimidating.

So here are my red flag issues. Perhaps one of these issues I can let go but I have a lot of them and they add up to total confusion as to what I should do.

The large student to child ration
The fact that I cannot communicate with any of the teachers
There is no parking and one of the schools is 3 km away.
The day is 7 hours long, too long for toddlers, too long for me.

But, and there is always a but, I recognize that immersing my children in a useful foreign language is totally important and will help them through out life. I want them have this fantastic opportunity, I just want it more on my terms.

A girl can hope, can't she?

I am on a few wait lists and have more schools to come. The bilingual school that costs 5000 euros is looking slightly more tempting lately.

The Golden Rule of Parenting

2011-06-08T06:43:00.000-04:00

I have a general rule as a parent of two toddlers, only one major task a day.

If I break this rule the universe always punishes me, and I am a glutton for punishment today.

The first mid-adventure of the day started before the day even began. Stella crawled into my tiny queen size bed keeping me awake and then Tiger woke up at 4:30 and decided it was party time. So...by 6:30 I was a zombie and begged Seth to let me have half hour of sleep before he left for work. The half hour did wonders but not enough for my day ahead, of which let me tell you at time of blogging today it is barely noon.

We went to tour Stella's first French preschool. It is an old Catholic school but it is public and free. It has kids from age 2-12. It had the old European church on the grounds, cobblestone streets. Really cute.

Not a soul in the school spoke English. Not even one. And I don't really speak French. Not really at all. So the secretary and I danced around these forms where I used my Rosetta crap French, my high school Latin and common sense to figure out. I learned some new words. The secretary was sweet.

We looked at the schol for both Tiger and Stella. Apparently he will be eligible to attend in October. His classroom was really cute and they had a pet turtle he was nuts about.

Stella's classroom was also cute. There were three teachers with about 16 kids to each teacher. The school was old but it had cute facilities. The playground could be better but it was fine. There was a cafeteria, the bathrooms didn't smell. It was cute. It reminded me of my elementary school as a kid. The teachers seemed smiley and friendly.

Stella LOVED it. The kids were super cute to her. They all said, "Bon Jour Stella!" She got really shy and didn't say anything back but once we left she told me she loved it.

They will allow me to take the kids out at lunch if I don't want to do the full day, which is awesome and solves my panic of losing my children a year early. I think I would feel more comfortable with a school that at least ONE person speaks English but I am not sure how many options I have unless I want to spend 10,000 Euros on tuition.

After the school visit we took our newly rented car to Ikea. My iPhone is unlocked finally but I haven't set it up with a data plan etc. So, I went to Ikea with no GPS or way to find it. Of course I got lost and the entire ride Stella is complaining about her tummy hurting. I tell her we are hurrying. Right as Ikea is within range she barfs. All over her car seat, the car, her clothes. Disaster.

So we head on home. Except, I am not quite sure how to get back. I eventually find some unsecured wireless and try to figure out where I am. I get going in the right direction but it spits me out on a cobblestone road with a spinach field. I use this time to take Stella's puke clothes off and try to wipe her down with baby wipes.

Of course when we are two minutes from home Tiger falls asleep. The kiss of all nap's death.

Luckily he went back to sleep after a few cries and I could attend to the vomit covered four year old in the bathtub.

I just keep telling myself, it will get easier. It will, right?

Regulations

2011-06-07T08:43:00.000-04:00

A charming street in our neighborhood

I have always tried to play things on the safe side. My mother claims as a child she could have left me at 15 months old by a pool alone and if she told me to stay away I would have stayed away all day. I like the know the rules and I like to follow them.

Brussels has rules beyond rules beyond rules. Let me give you a few examples.

Recycling

The trash must be properly sorted and recycled. You need to put plastics in a certain colored bag, paper in another and trash in another. If you put trash in recycling you can get fined 300 Euros.

You have to buy the proper bags for your commune. If you buy the wrong ones they won't take your trash. The cost PER bag (get this): 2 Euros!!!!

2 Euros is almost $3. How would you feel about your trash if you had to pay $3 a bag to get rid of it.

Now, there is a diplomat caveat. Some, not all, some communes reimburse dips. I have no idea if my commune will. Frankly all of this makes my head spin.

Crazy right?

Here is the next crazy thing: I have to be present to have the gas man come and check the meter. If I am not here I am fined 36 euros.

Don't even think about swimming in shorts. Men, you need to get over your speedo-phobias and just be prepared to strut your stuff. Speedos and swim caps are required and if you don't shower with soap before hand you are gross.

We did some embassy stuff. Of course we had to bring the kids. Stella is right on Brussels time but Tiger is struggling. He takes a little longer to adjust. He has been waking up at 2 am and I if I let him cry it echos in our carpet-less home. Not super cool. This makes him grouchy during the day. He was sorta antsy at orientation, ugh. With the help of God and ipods we made it through, but just barely.

I will say this about Seth's job concerning me. They have been very considerate of us and I have been very grateful and how accommodating they were in getting us settled. I felt like Manila was considerate but there was so much pressure to get on the visa line there was a lot of burden I had to deal with alone.

And in the latest preschool update. We have an appointment at ANOTHER preschool. Take the Bruxelles! They laughed at me in March when I asked about space and so far those laughs are in vain. Now I just need to get over my phobia of the 8:30-3:30 school day and somehow try to figure out how I am going to tour this preschool with my crappy French.

I might be able to get questions out but I won't be able to understand answers. Hmph. Well at least I will have something to blog about later. There is always a silver lining.

If I Could Build a Time Machine

2011-06-06T15:32:00.001-04:00

If I could build a time machine I would do things different. I would have:

Brought my Ergo Carrier so I could actually take the metro without hauling my two children and a stroller on the escalator.
Brought towels, the welcome kit only has four very thin cheap towels and our building has a pool.
Brought paper plates since the welcome kit also only has four plates
Put toilet paper and a bar of soap in my suitcase (this has already been covered but since I am making a list here)
Bought swimming stuff for the pool we get to use.
Bought a Phil and Ted's stroller rain cover, I think I am the only person in Brussels without a stroller rain cover.

This may seem like a rant, it isn't. I really love it here. However, if anyone is on their way to Brussels take heed. You may want to pack plates, because seriously folks there are only enough plates for each person in the household.

Today I took the metro. It was an almost fail but I persevered. I was finally able to buy a ticket and even used my non-existent French to say I wanted the Dix Voyage. That wasn't enough though, after hauling the stroller down the stairs the ONE handicap entrance that would fit my stroller was broken. A British woman stopped to help, an old Frenchy sounding lady, and a new friend from the embassy that took pity on me and was trying to show me the ropes of the metro. Finally a metro employee came and let me go through what can only the be the entrance for the fattest Belgian this side of Brussels, or maybe it is for the actual trains. Either way, we got to escorted and then I was able to haul the stroller with kids down ANOTHER flight of stairs until we found the train. Which was very easy to take.

Next time I think I will walk the extra 20 minutes.

Oh, oh, oh! I almost forgot, guess who has an appointment at a school? Me! Well actually Stella but I found one of the 20 local schools with a spot open and I get to see it on Friday. Hooray!

This school is a Catholic public school. This whole idea of public religious education is weird to me but I am okay with it, and at least it is free. I don't really see how much religion they would teach at the four year old level but I would imagine it is all about being good and other golden rules, which I am cool with. I always had the idea that Europe was very anti-religion before I came but as I look around religion is deeply intertwined in all aspects of life here. On Sunday there is a government mandated Sabbath observance, religious education is paid for by the 55% tax rate that Belgians pay, and of course there is the religious art. It is really interesting so far.

Also interesting: fashion!

Here are a few tid-bits from my trips to the park:

Classic shorter shorts and loafers with socks. This seems to be the normal dad look.

This guy really puts the white after Easter thing to the test. Even his sneakers were white and his gf matched. Also, note the shants or male capris. I saw these in Asia but American men just can't seem to pull them off.

This was my favorite I wish I had a better picture. This mad had on the cowboy hat, leather chaps, turquoise boots, and best of all a raccoon tail hanging out of his hair.

Sorry the pics are pretty small and weak. I plan on recording this and posting it for you.

First Failure

2011-06-05T04:49:00.000-04:00

So far we love love love Brussels. The weather is perfect, even if it is overcast. It is so incredibly walkable.

When we bid on this tour Seth had his priorities (interesting job) and I had mine. My number one priority was walkability. I wanted to be able to walk around as part of my life. I don't like gyms. I don't think they should be part of life I want to live an active life that negates the need for a sweaty gym. Belgium fits the bill (although our awesome temporary digs have a gym in it so maybe I will go for the gold.

The one underlying factor living abroad is general uneasiness. Today we tried to go to church. We figure we should start this tour off on a good foot and try to get our religion going on. Remember no car. So we go to the metro with the intention of taking the metro to the tram and then walk a block.

We went to buy a ticket but because we have the American credit cards that lack the pin chip our card was rejected. We had Euros but not enough coins and because it is Sunday the zombipocolypse came and the entire town is dead. I mean, dead, and I come from Utah where they pretend to have a Sabbath. Nuh-uh, this place is shut. down. Not even pharmacies. Nothing is open and no possible way to get change.

So we gave up on church, which in the end is not terrible since it is stake conference which is a meeting with all of the congregations in the area twice yearly that lasts two hours. Two hours with kids in any church is the pits. Two hours with kids in church in French, check please.

So we came home and decided to try to rent a car. Did you know the car rental place at the airport is closed on Saturday and Sunday in Brussels? Seriously? How do these places stay in business.

I was going on a rant about how this is an offense to capitalism and Seth reminded me that this is not capitalism it is socialism and I need to just let it go. There it goes, did you see that? A small fraction of my sanity down the drain.

So instead we are going to take our car (Phil and Ted stroller) to the park, feed ducks, and if we have energy go and check out our permanent house that is still being occupied.

Oh, and lest I forget happy birthday to my darling Stella! Four years ago I became a mommy.

She turned four yesterday and we tried to make it special but it was a jet lagged rough transition day. We did let her pick out a cake and it was pretty much the most yummy most delicious thing I have ever tried in my entire life. I think I can handle the desserts. Here is a picture of my baby girl and her cake.

Red Eyed

2011-06-04T10:26:00.001-04:00

We did it. We somehow made it to Brussels. After a week of moving and end of school year brouhaha we managed to make a three giant piles of junk that were labeled slow boat, fast boat, and luggage.

The movers came on a steamy 95 degree DC thick day. We watched them take away our possessions. Of course my kids were taking junk out of boxes as the movers were here so I woke up my neighbor and begged her to take my children and give them breakfast. I am going to miss them. We already do.

The in-laws came to say good bye and drove us to the airport. Somehow we lucked out and a baggage man went from heaven walked us to the front of the line and we by-passed at least an hour of wait time.

The flight was as you would expect. Stella slept the whole time (no drugs thank you). Tiger woke up at midnight and stayed up until we got settled in. This jet lag experience is so much easier. When your bar is as low as ours is it only gets better.

Our temp quarters are nice. Much biggest than I imagined. Of course we had no toilet paper or soap. Our sponsors (who are fantastic) thought it was included in the welcome kit. But really U.S. Government can't you throw in a roll and a bar of soap? After an international flight the last thing anyone wants to do is go to the store so they can use the john.

Last night was okay and I did end up drugging Tiger. In the end all four of us woke in our teen tiny queen bed.

So for those if you going to Belgium here is my advice. Bring a pillowcase in your suitcase. The welcome kit one is made of shards of polyester slivers. Worst sheets ever. Also bring plug converter thingy.

The weather here is gorgeous and perfect especially after DC and the hot melt of last week. We walked to an awesome park. The people here don't seem naturally outgoing but do not seem to be offended at a smile. My lack of French was only a problem when a small boy was angry at Tiger for touching his trucks. He was trying to say something to me but I have no idea what.

I will post pics this weekend.

Memorial Workend

2011-05-27T15:16:00.000-04:00

This past week has made me really excited to get out of town. It hit 90 degrees with humidity, I had to change clothes four times. When I checked Brussels weather it was a nice 67. That sounds dreamy right now.

I am so excited to get there but this weekend the real work begins. We separate the piles: to use in a week or two or to use in two potentially three months. It is a hassle but admittedly I am getting better at it, either that or I have just done it enough to know it all gets there, in vary degrees of pieces. The degree of organization is dependent on my progress this weekend.

Today I tried to drop off metric ton of clothing to Good Will, they rejected me and my clothes so now I have to find a place to get rid of these clothes. And in the same breath of getting rid of things I acquired a train table and about 20 Thomas Train series trains. Tiger is in heaven. We are so happy, I wanted to get one of these for the longest time and Stella's preschool friend was getting rid of it.

Despite the weather feeling like a sweat lodge I am really going to miss Arlington and my country.

Here is a list of the things I will miss most:

Netflix Streaming - Seriously changed my life
Fresh milk (shelf milk is NAAASTY)
Having people understand me and understanding people
My neighbors and neighborhood
Our DC friends
Our DC family
Seth's super awesome cush training schedule, the honeymoon is ending, I will miss it most
The library full of thousands of English books
American television
The cost of gasoline (that is saying something since it is over $4 here)
The imperial measurement system (although when you go the the Dr and you get your weight in kilos it doesn't hurt as much)
Year round retail sales (in Brussels they only have sales twice a year, so I hear)

Love you Arlington!

WHOLA COLA

2011-05-24T14:57:00.000-04:00

Did you know the Belgium has the highest cost of auto insurance in all of Europe? (Zoe, they said Italy is up there to, so props to you). Yup, apparently the required legal liability is something like a bazillion gazillion euros so today when I got an auto insurance quote it was $1100 more than I pay here (and I have full coverage here).

And because I can use my blog as a notebook if I feel like it here is the list of to dos before we take off:

Figure out car insurance
Figure out what to do with my Virginia tags and how to tell them not to tax me on the car because I am leaving
Craigslist my old bike
Clean carpets
Take mounds of garbage to Goodwill
Return any borrowed items
Change address
Get a massage/pedicure

Moving stinks, I don't think anyone likes it but I am ready to get it over with.

If anyone has any ideas or suggestions on my to do list, please clue me in.

Tiger Turns Two

2011-05-23T23:18:00.000-04:00

My cute Tiger turned two years old today.

Two years ago I went to a Manila Hospital and met my son for the first time. I loved him right away and knew he was a gentle sweet boy. Today he is a still a gentle sweet boy who also likes to make jokes, funny faces, is obsessed with trains and trucks and has the most infectious laugh you have ever heard. We love Tiger.

He sings himself to sleep every night. Sometimes at 10:00 at night we will hear "E-I-E-I OOOOO" or "Round and round!." He loves to tell jokes at the dinner table. He likes to give knuckle bumps, snuggle his mom, and is best friends with his sister.

He thinks it is funny to run away from his mom, thinks his dad was created for the sole purpose of giving him horsey rides, and likes to dance.

He loves books and can "read" a book for hours alone, slowly studying everything in the pages. He gently turns the pages and then when he is done begs himself to read it, "AGAIN!"

I love you Tiger!

Mayday Mayday

2011-05-20T09:58:00.000-04:00

We are leaving in T minus 13 days. A lot of my friends and neighbors have offered to help out and watch the kids so I can pack, which I totally appreciate. The truth is the packing isn't the problem it is the preparing, and for that I need more than someone to watch the kids.

Case in point, yesterday I went to Costco to stock up on a few things that they may or may not have in Belgium. Unlike other posts we are totally lucky there since we have access to the military commissary and I have been told not to worry.

Even so, I have HHE weight and a Virginia slow boat shipment so I am going to bring a few pleasantries from home. Pleasantries such as $300 items all related to the derriere (yes, I am practicing my French thank you very much). Somehow I went to Costco with a $25 gift card and left spending $300 on pull-ups, wipes, and other varieties of items related to rear-end comfort. It sent me into a bit of a panic but I was soothed by the memory of my father barking at my mom when she bought the one ply toilet paper and he said, "You don't cheap out on your butt!"

Never were truer words said.

When a Photo Just Doesn't Do it

2011-05-09T14:50:00.000-04:00

More than Payback

2011-05-08T22:37:00.000-04:00

Remember last year's Mother's Day? It was the pits. Seth was gone doing things that diplomats do and I was home alone with the kiddos.

This year was an entire weekend of family bliss. We had a picnic at Iwo Jima, walks to the parks, amazing waffles with whipped cream and strawberries. Bliss.

Last week Seth finished his French training. This week he has his last class and then we are off and then the training honeymoon ends. It was a lot of fun and I will miss this easy schedule but at least next time if I am alone on Mother's day I will be in a place famous for chocolate, waffles, and French fries.

A Post That Emphasizes My Unnecessary Disclaimer

2011-05-05T19:51:00.000-04:00

Did you know that my blog is open to the public? It is, I write in it and anyone in the whole wide world can read it.

Do you know who reads it? Not too many people. Mostly people who are looking for Brittany Spears information and Skink (the reptile) aficionados. Not kidding, those are my largest lead in links.

I blog for a few reasons:

It helps me organize my thoughts in a Doogie Howser way that makes my life more like television, if only I could get the music to chime in at the right time. Doesn't iPod have an app for that yet?
It fills in the social gap caused by moving all the time. I am able to feel part of a blogging community that is always there and never moves.
For the other people who may be thinking about this lifestyle they can know my reality. The ups and downs and the way it is. I believe in blogging verite. So if I recognize that having a life interlaced with a large government bureaucracy can occasionally be a process, don't be offended, it isn't you it is the machine.

What you will not find in my blog:

Seth's work stuff (mostly because it is not blog worthy, but also because I wouldn't want someone to die of boredom)
My political views (they aren't strong enough to blog about)
The ins and outs of the U.S. Government (I don't work for America, I just am American)
The latest scoop for the Washington Post

This blog is mine, not my husband's, mine. My life is directly affected by his job but I do not work for the U.S. Government and my thoughts are not his thoughts nor the U.S. Governments. So... if you are looking for juicy U.S. Government gossip this is a dead end.

And now here is a tid bit for all of the skink afficiandos out there:

Skinks look roughly like true lizards, but most species have no pronounced neck and sport relatively small legs. Several genera (e.g., Typhlosaurus) have no limbs at all; others, such as Neoseps, have only reduced limbs. Often, their way of moving resembles that of snakes more than that of other lizards. The longer the digits, the more arboreal the species is. A biological ratio exists that can determine the ecological niche of a given skink species. The SENI (Scincidae Ecological Niche Index) is a ratio based on anterior foot length at the junction of the ulna/radius-carpal bones to the longest digit divided by the snout-to-vent length (SVL).^[1]

Skinks usually have long, tapering tails that can be shed and regenerated.

Most skink are medium sized with a length from the snout to the vent of up to 12 cm (4.7 in), although there are a few that grow to larger sizes, such as the Corucia, which can reach 35 cm (13.8") from snout-to-vent.

Navigating Belgian Preschools Part III

2011-05-03T21:42:00.000-04:00

Today I did what any girl with a lack of U.S. Embassy provided information would do, I went to the internets and asked the great abyss of information to give me advice on schools and availability etc.

I did get some good advice including a school that is only 550 euros, or about $850 a month. I can tell I have been doing this for a while because sticker shock is starting to wear off.

Most people go to the free public preschools. Which as of today, are all fully booked. What I can't seem to wrap my mind around is the school day.

In Belgium all schools regardless of public, parochial, or private go from 8:30 - 3:30! The entire day (except for Wednesday which is the petite du jour or little day and they get out at lunch). The ENTIRE DAY. I talked to a French mom at Stella's preschool and she thought that is a fantastic thing and she wishes she could find something like that here. I told she could, it is called day care.

I am a stay-at-home mom by choice and I really love this time. Honestly, I would rather do nothing else at this point and I feel like putting Stella full-time in school at four is robbing me of my last year with her.

Now it isn't like someone is putting a gun to my head and forcing preschool. It is optional there (until 6 and then you are required by law to go to school, think that for a minute if you are keen on homeschooling). However, 98% of Belgian children from age 2 1/2 on go to preschool... ALL DAY. I feel like it is giving up my children to a giant foreign education machine, and I have very little control. In fact a lot of the schools I have reviewed control everything about their day including their lunch and snack.

So if I keep Stella home it will be me, her, Tiger, a moon bounce and a whole lotta time on our hands. There will not be neighbor kids for her to play with because they will all be at their state sponsored preschool. Then again I don't have room to complain one way or another because there seems to be no space to be had.

As I have expressed this to other moms a lot of them roll their eyes and just tell me it will be fine and the kids will adjust, which I am sure is true. Am I being too sentimental about this? Is there something about our American ideals that makes putting your kids in preschool all day more painful, or is it losing control of our spawn? I know a lot of people put their kids in all day day care and every study seems to show those kids are just fine. But it is more than that, it is me, I am not ready to let go.

The voices and comments from the internets have been less than sympathetic from Europe. I don't know if I should just suck it up and say good bye early, if I should keep her at home, I hope there is a door number three.

Navigating Belgian Preschools Part II

2011-05-02T08:13:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend Seth and I did a diligent search of all of the internets and found about 12 schools in our future neighborhood.

Today we got up early and gave them all calls. We were laughed at, with a french accented laugh, when we asked if there was space available in the four year-old class.

Now I am just annoyed. Partly at the laughing but partly because there was not much we could do until now. Our post didn't even let us know what neighborhood we were going to live in until a week or so ago.

In an ideal world they would have told us where we were going to live around December or January and then I would have jet-setted over the pond to check out our future neighborhood and the schools.

This is not an ideal world and right now it looks like me and the kiddos are going to be spending a lot of time together next year. Which, really, is not the end of the world. This is Stella's last year until kindergarten and then it is school from there out. And there could be worse places than Brussels to have your kids at home. There are a lot of things to do there. We will figure something out and I am not going to let the bilingual thing get me down.

The good news? We are early enough to get Tiger into a school for next year.

Navigating Belgian Preschools Part I

2011-04-29T21:20:00.000-04:00

So it is really happening... we are actually moving to Brussels in about one month.

There is a lot of prep work to moving and frankly, I am tired already. Lots and lots of paperwork. Getting our housing, getting our temporary housing, getting our title to ship our car, finding out what is in the Welcome Kit when we get to Brussels, looking at luggage, you get the gist - a lot of hassle.

We are supposed to be in temporary housing for seven weeks. The good news is our temporary housing is in the same 'hood as our permanent housing. The bad news, our stuff, the stuff that has been in storage since July 2010 will remain in storage until we get to our permanent house. This means once again, we will live out of a crate of stuff for seven weeks.

Word on the street is they are redoing the kitchen in this future home of ours. Good news: We get a new kitchen. Bad news: seven weeks? With projects like these I always expect the unexpected and hope to be pleasantly surprised if things actually stick to schedule. Does that make me a pessimist or an optimist trying not to get bummed?

Oh, and the best part? We have sponsors. This is the person that you email and answer questions before coming to post. A good sponsor usually throws in a few groceries or a meal, an average sponsor answers an email or two and picks you up from the airport. So for our sponsors have been great. They just got to post a few months ago and are really tolerant of my anxieties.

The one thing our sponsor did stress is the need to get on the preschool bandwagon, now.

As in NOW.

So this is how I feel about the whole preschool thing, I think preschool is a good thing for a kid. I do not think preschool sifts the wheat from the tares academically speaking. I think my kids can probably learn as much from me at the grocery store as they can at some fancy preschool. I feel like the onus of academic learning from toddler to child is on me. Stella reads now, she is doing great, I am not at all worried about her getting ahead or getting behind. Tiger is a mama's boy and I will look at preschools for him in January or so.

So...I have a major problem with preschools charging $12,000 for tuition a year. I love my kids but there is no way I could possible justify that kind of cash for preschool. That should go to a college fund, which I may add would be more than the cost of my entire four years of tuition during undergraduate. So, no I am not going to put my kids in expensive fancy preschools.

Brussels has many free preschool options starting at 2 1/2 years old. They are in French and this could be a good opportunity for them to learn a second language.

So the hunt begins.

The CLO has a 70 page out-dated document that is start. A lot of the numbers and emails are disconnected but it gives me a name and a good description.

Seth helped me translate an email that I can send to the schools if I can find an email address.

And then there is the phone.

I decide to try out the extent of my French and call someone, after all schools are full of teachers and educated Europeans who should speak English, right? This is what I am trying to tell myself as I figure out how to dial out of the U.S.

My conversation goes like this:

SCHOOL: (French accented) Blah blah blah
ME: Bonjour! Parlez vous Anglais?
SCHOOL: (French accented silence) No Madam
ME: Hmph, mrph, hmmm, OK well then. I guess I will call back. Ummm. Sorry. Gracias. Merci

And then I hung up and cried.

It wasn't the actual lack of conversation. It was the harbinger of things to come. The big fat red harbinger of what I am so incredibly freaked out about.

My husband has had a job of learning two languages in the past eight months. When he gets to work he will be surrounded by folks who all speak English. He will be surrounded by things that make sense.

I have had a job of watching two small children and trying to fit in a few hours of work a week at home. When I get to Belgium I am going to have to navigate getting settled and getting around. I will be alone throughout the day. I will be surrounded by people that speak French and nothing will make sense.

Can you see my anxiety here?

Nega Stella

2011-04-22T14:54:00.000-04:00

My kids are going through a super cute phase right now. I hope it lasts. They are playing together, Stella can read a little bit now and reads little books to Tiger. They are just delightful little people who say cute fun things like, "Did you know pink and purple are best friends" or bringing a kiwi to me Tiger informs me the kiwi is "cute."

Pretty darling age. Yet, with every delightful and wonderful moment I have there seems to be another set of children that exist. I do not know where these children come from. I call them Nega -Stella and Nega -Tiger.

Real Tiger is pretty even keeled so when Nega Tiger comes out it isn't too different from my darling boy. However, Nega-Stella is a force to be reckoned with.

Delightful Stella comes into our room around 7:30 and usually wakes us up by singing songs. She plays with toys while we fix her breakfast and then happily helps us clean up. Everything is wonderful until about 9:00 when it is time to dress her. This is when Nega-Stella arrives.

We give her full control on the wardrobe choices with only one rule: we wear pants or shorts (depending on weather). No underwear is to be exposed in this family. I think in this To-Catch-A-Predator day and age this is a reasonable request. Oh, you would think I was forcing her to wear pants made of stinging bees.

Nega-Stella comes out in full force screaming and telling me of the terrible pain her pants (cotton leggings) cause her. We have even gone as far as allowing pajama bottoms that look like leggings to be permitted (which she wears at night with NO problem). Oh, the horror of those pants. They are like sandpaper to her soft delicate skin.

It has gotten to the point of me making her get dressed and once she puts on the pants I don't allow her to take them off. This involves her screaming and me lifting her, taking her out to the car, buckling her in her car seat and putting on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory book on tape. My neighbors probably think I am an awful, but they have yet to meet Nega-Stella. They only see delightful sweet Stella who charms everyone she meets.

Once she is in her car seat I go inside and finish getting myself and Tiger ready and then bring out her toothbrush and hairbrush and take care of that in the car.

When I told my father about this event he told me I shouldn't let me toddler run the show and I need to show her who is boss. I think we all know Angela is the boss. But seriously? What can I do? Reason doesn't seem to help, bribing is weak, timeouts don't work, not a fan of the spanking. I think the car seat seem to be the best solution.

And the craziest thing? The car seat has a Temple Grandin effect on her. She totally chills out and leaves her pants on for the rest of the day.

I pray she grows out of this phase and Nega-Stella never returns. I also hope Tiger doesn't go through this because I just might not make it to 40 if that happens.

In Defense of Tiger's Pointillism

2011-04-16T20:38:00.007-04:00

The flight from DC to Sarasota is two hours. After doing Manila, Salt Lake City, Hawaii, even a car ride during rush hour, this flight was supposed to be cake.

So there I was completely and totally prepared for a flight. I am like MacGuyver Mom of flying. I have baggies of food, baggies of snacks, a change of clothes, toys, new toys, ipods loaded with new games and videos. I am about as prepared as I can get.

For those of you who did not watch Star Trek every day when they got home from school while eating chips and salsa, check it out now on Netflix with the chips and salsa. This is how my kids seem once they are given an ipod. Totally wired in.

So there I was trying to keep the iPod big guns put away until that magical ding that says its okay to turn on electronic devices. So I pulled out paper and pens. The iPod of the 80s.

We had yet to even start taxiing so the kids had the tray tables down and they were coloring. Tiger really loves to make dots. He does this while saying, "dot, dot, dot, dot." An older lady sits down in front of us. Tiger continues to color. The older lady says, "Stop kicking my seat." I politely inform her we are simply coloring and there are no feet near her seat. Tiger colors some more and she yells, "STOP KICKING MY SEAT." All of this before we had even left the gate. I told her I was doing the best I could and looked around at my seat neighbors to see if I was the only one who thought she was being ridiculous.

I knew this was going to be a long two hours.

Fortunately everyone around must have looked at this single mom with two kids and gave me pity. A couple behind me switched so ole crotchety could get to her Floridian promise land without my son's pointillism disturbing her.

When we got up to switch Stella was confused and asked why we were switching. In a much needed passive aggressive move on my part I told Stella we had to move because some people were grouchy about her and Tiger's coloring. I know, lame but it felt good to say it out loud.

And then we got to Florida. We went to the beach every day. We played with cousins. It was perfect, perfect except for one giant gaping hole in the plan: no Seth.

I admit my secret furlough back up plan was to fly Seth out to Florida to be with us. But alas, the powers-that-be managed to get it together at the eleventh hour and so I was able to try out semi-single parenting. I have to say, I am capable but I prefer a husband. So to my friends who have or are doing it: hats off.

Siesta Fiesta

2011-04-09T15:45:00.001-04:00

My brother and his wife just had baby #4. Her name is Clara and she is beautiful and sweet and everything a new baby should be. Spencer had to go out of town and I heroically volunteered to help out with the four children. Oh, and did I mention they live on one of the most amazing beaches ever?

This means in about 1200 sq feet there are six children. Of the six children four of them are three and under. But we are in Siesta Key!

So, the good news is there is water and sand and pretty much that is all you need when you are three and under. The bad news is I spent a night with both children trying to climb into my air matress bed. Not my best night but last night was better. (It helped that Stella is not "shy" around her cousins anymore and could sleep in the same room as them).

So until I blog again here is my picture of the week:

In Lieu of the Loo

2011-03-30T22:00:00.000-04:00

I promised Stephanie and other FS bloggers I would try to find a sign that I once saw at a public bathroom in Manila. It said:

Please do not wash hands or feet in toilet.

Somehow I lost the picture but it will be burned into my brain forever.

This did give me a chance though to bring up the root of my insanity during my two years in Manila.

We lived in an AMAZING apartment. The place was freaking designed by I.M. Pei. The Marcos' (not Imelda but a relative) lived above us. It was nice and I often felt like oprhan Annie at Daddy Warbuck's mansion.

The thing that killed me while living there was our parking garage. Once again, nice. In places like these it was pre-requisite to hav guards everywhere. There were bathrooms for the building employees but often the guards in the parking lot thought it was too much of a hassle to go use the proper toilet and instead would just use a plastic liquid container.

This became my cause. I fought to eliminate bottle urination my whole tour. I failed.

The last day I was in the Philippines I saw this:

Yup, look for it, look for it. You see the two water bottles in my parking spot. Yes, they are full of urine. What did you think it was Mountain Dew?

What You Can Hide in Brownies

2011-03-28T15:11:00.000-04:00

Some of your may remember a few months back I decided to try out the Sneaky Chef and Deceptively Delicious. My children are picky eaters. Stella in particular is not just kind of picky but she is extremely picky. For example, if Tiger or myself is eating a banana, yogurt, sour cream, or an apple she has to leave the table.

To her credit, she is really polite about it. She picks up her food and takes it to another room where she does not have to be bothered by the smell and sounds of the offending food. It drives me CRAZY (but at least she doesn't throw a tantrum when I eat a Yoplait).

So, I decided to try out the Sneaky Chef and Deceptively Delicious. I thought they both had their pros and cons. In the end though, who wants the hassle. I like the idea of pre-made purees that I could throw into things but after four hours of cooking all these veggies and mixing it up who wants to make chicken nuggets by hand? Not me.

And I imagine not most people.

So, I have been dabbling into my own recipes of sneaky things.

I came up with the idea when someone was talking about the mainstay of many colleges: pot brownies (disclaimer: my college was not famous for pot brownies). I started thinking, if people can hide marijuana in brownies what other things could I hide?

As it turns out about a cup of pureed broccoli, spinach, and peas.

Make brownies from a store box mix. Add 1 cup of green puree (see recipe below). Cook as instructed and have a guilt free dessert.

Green Puree

Makes about 2 cups of puree This recipe makes about 2 cups of puree; double it if you want to store another 2 cups. It will keep in the refrigerator for up to 3 days, or you can freeze 1/4-cup portions in sealed plastic bags or small plastic containers.

- 2 cups raw baby spinach leaves*
- 2 cups broccoli florets, fresh or frozen
- 1 cup sweet green peas, frozen
- 2 to 3 tablespoons water

*note: I prefer raw baby spinach to frozen spinach for this recipe (more mild flavor); if you must use frozen spinach, only use 1 cup of it.

> If using raw spinach, thoroughly wash it, even if the package says "prewashed."

> To prepare on the stovetop, pour about 2 inches of water into a pot with a tight-fitting lid. Put a vegetable steamer basket into the pot, add the spinach and broccoli, and steam for about 10 minutes, until very tender. Add the frozen peas to the basket for the last 2 minutes of steaming. Drain.

> To prepare in the microwave, place the broccoli and spinach in a microwave-safe bowl, cover with water, and microwave on high for 8 to 10 minutes, until very tender. Add peas for last 2 minutes of cooking. Drain.

> Place the vegetables in the bowl of your food processor along with 2 tablespoons of water. Puree on high until as smooth as possible. Stop occasionally to push the contents to the bottom. If necessary, use another tablespoon of water to smooth out the puree.

Scammed

2011-03-26T20:03:00.001-04:00

Saturday is easily my most favorite day of the week and without rehashing Rebecca Black lyrics lets just say it is the ONE day of the week that Seth is around all day and we have no obligations. Ahhh, heavenly.

As a precursor to the best day of the week my favorite in-law, Andrea, came over and hung out. Long evening turned into a long night and so we had a sleep over. The kids were ecstatic to wake up and find their cool aunt eating French toast with them.

Andrea is so cool that she lives in the actual city. We decided to load the kids in the car and take her home and finally finish my failed trip to the National Building Museum.

But as fate would have it, it was not to be.

First there was the D.C. marathon. Then there was the kick-off of the National Cherry Blossom festival. Oh, and lets not forgot at the circus is also in town and was performing about 30 minutes from the time that we were in front of the Verizon Center.

This could only mean one thing: no parking in the entire District of Columbia.

We were a sad lot. After looking for 30 minutes the kids started in on the whining. Goldfish can only sate children for so long.

Finally we see a man asking us if we were ready to park. We did inform him that yes we were parking and he led us to a lot, took our $10, and gave us a ticket. It was too good to be true. As I parked I noticed signs all around saying that it was permit parking only. Yup, paid $10 and I couldn't even park there. We were scammed.

So we gave up on DC and went back to Virginia where we had a wonderful yuppie Saturday.

Hitting the Wall

2011-03-25T15:05:00.000-04:00

Today I woke up feeling like I was going to cry. This is an occasional event that happens when I get less than six hours of sleep a few days in a row. I felt crummy and after an attempt to medicate my exhaustion with Coke Zero fails I usually want to cry. Today was one of those days.

I have just been burning the candle at both ends for too long. Between shuttling kids, visiting friends that are in town, trying to learn French, and having a huge project due for work I just hit a wall.

The wall hit somewhere in between an argument with Stella about three year olds needing to put their own leggings on and losing my keys. I knew I was spent. I knew I needed a break.

So I did what any woman would do. I called back up and picked him up at lunch.

Seth came home during lunch, I took a nap. Life is good again.

I am so happy we rented a house by FSI, a house that Seth can walk to work from, a house that has a yard that I can throw my kids outside. I admit I go crazy all the time at the furnishings and the junk that was left behind by the landlord but those naps and lunch visits are awesome.

Without saying too much I will say that we got our housing options in Brussels. Both options are great and we are excited. Both options require a two month stay in temporary housing, which I am less excited about. I am trying to force time to learn French (hence wall hitting moments), it is tough but I am committed to finishing Rosetta Stone.

As an instructional designer it is hard for me to take this training because of the MAJOR educational design flaws I see in the system. I am so so so so very happy I didn't pay ANYTHING to take this because I would be really really mad if I did. I am pretty sure Rosetta Stone gives it to State for free so they can say that diplomats use it to learn language.

The main complaint I have with this system is that there is no guidebook or manual to accompany the lesson that offers any explanation of what they are trying to teach me here. I am supposed to look at a picture and somehow figure out what is going on and guess the right French sentence. The problem is there is no explanation of why you get things right or wrong and the pictures they use are really bad. You would think they would have had some small photo shoot to get these photos but as far as I can tell most of the images are just stock images. Bad, really bad.

Now I should put a disclaimer out there that the speaking portion of the course is disabled on the State version of the course. Perhaps if we had that it may justify more of the individual license cost, but even then I find this method of learning to be incomplete. There needs to be a way to find out what you are doing right or wrong or what they are trying to teach you and Rosetta Stone doesn't have any of that, they just let you figure it out yourself. Boo.

Even so it is better than nothing and I try to put an hour of time (that I don't have) to do it every day. If I had to do it all over again I would have seriously thought about brining our Filipino nanny so I could have taken courses at FSI, but alas, that was not to be.

Zooing

2011-03-18T22:52:00.000-04:00

We have spring potential.

Washington DC and I are not fighting anymore. She has decided to stop freezing me to death and instead has brought SPRING!

OK, so maybe it isn't quite like that yet, but it is close and my iphone is not the best camera. This is a photo from April 2008. Nice right?

To celebrate the 78-degree weather, I let Stella wear shorts under her dress instead of leggings (a HUGE deal from this child that is forever ruined by the tropics). We also went to the zoo. We bought a membership when we moved here and it has been TOTALLY worth it. A family membership is $45, but parking is then free. Without the membership, parking is $15. So the membership pays for itself after three visits. We live less than 12 minutes from the zoo, and the amount of animal cookies we have obtained may just have covered the $45 cost (you get them free when you show your card).

At the zoo with the kids. They preferred climbing to animals. Maybe I can leave them in the cages next time.

Our friends from Manila, the Langleys, are in town before going to Finland and we had a blast at the zoo with them.

And now for my Belgium update. I am a little bit bummed this week. I have been trying to self-learn French but it is S-L-O-W to say the least. I hired a tutor and that is helping but I am frustrated. I take care of two kids all day, one of which NEVER NAPS. I work 10-15 hours a week (from home) on top of that and then I am somehow supposed to find time to learn a second language? How?

In the back of my mind I had thought it isn't really THAT important. Then this week I got an email from someone at church there, begging me to learn French. Apparently a year ago they disbanded the International aka English speaking congregation of the church that we attend. They decided to make all of the expats go to the local congregations. Which is a really good idea if you don't want people to get ANYTHING from church. Which was my exact experience in the Philippines. I would love to be pleasantly surprised but will make a plan of sitting in church for the next two years without knowing what is going on.

Now let me give credit before I get there, there is a rumor of a translation system and blah blah blah, but I am just bummed, I don't speak French and I am positive I will NEVER speak French to a level that I could discuss religion. I am still not recovered from my experience in Manila dealing with an unrecognizable form of my faith. Also, we still don't know what neighborhood we will be living in so that will definitely affect my need for French (or not).

In the meantime Rosetta Stone and I will have a serious session of French. It is sort of like learning how to speak English from watching Scooby Doo, but it is better than nothing.

A Separate Piece

2011-03-15T14:46:00.000-04:00

I like to think I am a good mom. I spend pretty much every living waking moment attending to their needs, whether I want to or not. Not only do I manage to keep my children alive, I even try to help them become good people. Really I try. I promise.

So despite my darndest efforts or maybe to spite those efforts it is BEWILDERING to me that my youngest son cannot seem to get over his separation anxiety. Every time I drop him off at playgroup, unless I am staying, he throws a three hour tantrum. Seriously, I wonder if I am going to be the first parent to be kicked out for having a child who can't stop crying. I have been called back several times.

Today I had to co-op next door at Stella's preschool, so I couldn't go and get him. I heard Tiger cry the whole morning. The week before he cried the whole time. I can tell the other moms dread it when I show up to drop him off and really, I don't blame them. Tiger is pretty awful when I leave.

This isn't my first time dealing with separation anxiety. Stella was super super attached, as in, we didn't put her in preschool until she was 2 1/2 because she was just sort freaking out. Now I am here again. I keep telling myself it will get better, because historically it does, but it sucks. I was so excited to have five hours a week to myself and now they are ruined because I can't relax knowing my baby is screaming for someone.

In other news, we might have a date to leave Arlington. We are looking at the calendar, talking to the gods of travel, thinking about leaving. I feel (a little bit) TERRIBLE because it seems like we are going to miss the end of the year ballet recital and preschool graduation. I have toyed around with changing our dates to try to accommodate these little things but it just doesn't make sense for our timing with our family. Seth and I have gone back and forth about this and come to the conclusion that this is probably one of THE ONLY TIMES it won't really matter. So...we will miss preschool graduation and the ballet recital (which I already spent $50 on some green tutu sill frilly thing). There could be worse things in life.

Oh and the final bit of news! I met Ashley from The Sherwood Family Nonsense. They are going to take our over-furnished, heater breaking, amazing location rental. Stella and her girls played together in our mud pit yard and Tiger and Edwin played around each other. I love the FS Blogosphere, it makes me feel like I have a community when my world is always changing.

Hot Patience

2011-03-12T15:04:00.000-05:00

I feel like I am a reasonable person, I try to be fair and understanding. I understand that "things" happen that cause delays. However, I have absolutely no more patience left for the repairman that was supposed to be here five hours ago.

Our heater broke yesterday. It is no longer freezing but it is still March and winter. It is cold at night. We had a chilly night with extra blankets and space heaters pumping. Today the repairman was supposed to come at 10. We canceled all our morning plans in anticipation of this man. We waited, we waited, we baked to warm ourselves, and waited. We called our landlord in Peru who was unreachable due to third world country problems (power outage, internet having a coup, you get the gist). This guys doesn't come and we don't have a number for him.

So we call our own repairman. He says he will be here in an hour. Once we do this our Peruvian landlord calls from Lima and informs us Marben (yup, that is his name) is on his way. Grrrrr.

Our whole day is shot. Saturdays are seriously sacred, it is the ONLY day in the week where we have nothing schedule and we can just hang as a family, and Marben stole it from me.

Metroid

2011-03-08T15:13:00.001-05:00

Spring is in the air, everyone (sans Seth) in my family is taking antibiotics, life is almost looking rosy again.

I decided Tiger and Stella needed to stay home one more day from the strep even though they should be over the contagious stage. Stella's stomach has taken a number from the antibiotics and she just isn't herself. She keeps complaining about a headache. Tiger is finally acting like himself again although he still isn't eating much.

So while neither child is school/playgroup worthy today I figured they were both museum worthy. I had heard fantastic things about the National Building Museum. We live less than two blocks from the metro so I thought we could take a brief walk to the metro and it would eventually spit us out at the museum.

Without really thinking much about it I assumed Judiciary Square was on the orange line. My days away from DC and the metro got me here. It is on the RED line. It took me about 3 stops beyond our transfer point to figure this out. I try to run out with my double stroller but the mobs of DC are blasting me and yelling at me. I finally got aggressive, used the stroller as a weapon and pushed my way out before the train doors closed and I was even further away from where I needed to be.

We finally got the L'Enfant Plaza where they we had to switch trains again. Finding an elevator is like finding a clean place to put your hands in the metro, impossible. So I get both kids out, lug the double stroller up the stairs and get on our final train. We get out and then realize that while there is an elevator it is no where near the exit I need to be. In fact as far as I can tell the only way to get to the exit I need to be is to have wings and fly with my two children and double stroller across the tracks. So I give up and take the wrong exit. I beg some women to help me with the stroller up the stairs with the two kids. They oblige but when we get to the top one of them feels the need to chew me out for not using the mystery elevator that I searched in vain for.

I left our house at 10:00, it was now 11:30. My kids were hungry and cranky. I was sweaty, hungry, and cranky.

Tiger going to town with the giant Legos

Stella building a house out of blocks. She was very annoyed when the "little kids" knocked it down.

I walked to the museum. We played for 30 minutes. Seth came home for lunch and I begged him to drive into the city to pick us up, I am done and done with Metro for today.

Stella is napping which tells me she feels rotten. Tiger is napping. Seth is at work. Quiet time? What is this?

Unleashed

2011-03-06T21:29:00.000-05:00

So the mystery of my week long high fever was solved this morning. My doctor called and informed me that although the q-tip that made me gag was negative they were able to grow an entire colony of strep bacteria. Apparently these bad boys have been living on easy street in the back of my throat, causing me to have a fever over 102 on most days and a cough to boot.

Of course I couldn't just be sick alone. Both Stella and Tiger have been out of sorts. None of us have an appetite and it has been a bunch of cranky cranky people in this home. Seth has played Florence Nightingale through it all.

Stella was so mad when I wouldn't play with her (because Tiger was having a massive meltdown begging me to take a nap). She ended up drawing the picture below. Apparently it is a drawing of her crying because I am not playing with her.

I was so happy when she handed to me because she had managed to find a way to entertain herself for two minutes.

Which leads me to my next quest in parenting: teaching Stella to entertain herself. Am I the only parent dealing with this? She wants to play with me all. the. time. I like playing dollhouse about as much as the next thirty something mom but really? I can get her to do a craft or something alone but when it comes to her playing pretend (which is all she ever wants to do) she is always begging me to play along.

Sometimes I can get her friend across the street to play with Stella and they can pretend for hours on end, but when I have two kids and a million things to get done it is really hard to play with two inch kitten dolls for my entire afternoon.

Any advice?

My other child has a different sort of problem. Today I took him to CVS to pick up a prescription. When I went to check out they of course, only have self check out. I HATE self check out. I was not a huge fan pre-children but now that I have kids they are seriously from the fiery bellows of hell. Shouldn't I be getting a discount for using them? They are terrible. The time it takes me to scan the item and then click the button and then pull out the proper payment is exactly the amount of time my son needs to run away as fast as he can and hide. Which is exactly what he did today.

He was no where to be found in my slightly seedy local CVS. After a few panicky moments I found him in the lotion aisle with every bottle of lotion on the ground.

This has caused us to contemplate purchasing a child leash. I always mocked parents that use them but my son thinks it is the funniest thing in the world to run away. When I hold his hand he won't use his legs, making him dead weight. So I either let him run away, hold him in my arms, or carry his arm and the dead weight. The entire time any of this happens he is laughing thinking he is hilarious. Mrmph.

Disguise This Couch!

2011-03-04T10:15:00.000-05:00

When you live abroad as a diplomat Uncle Sam usually puts you up in some kind of housing. The main reason for this is safety, there are standards to be met. However as the recipient of this housing you have very little say in where you live (you can indicate a preference but that doesn't mean you will get it). There is a whole lot that goes into housing including family size and rank in the service. Sometimes the timing just works out and you get lucky and sometimes you end up spending two to three years in a red light district with razor wire, a fifteen foot fence around you, and a man with a machine gun who gets paid $20 a week.

The one thing you can depend on with embassy housing is the couches. They are all the same model of couch size but vary in the pattern. There is gray and blue French gag and then there is light gray and gold French gag. We tried to disguise our couches as a mustache but it all we could get was stubble.

This couch could only grow stubble.

Interior decorators of the world I ask this question: what would you do to disguise U.S. Embassy couches?

Here is a picture before our couch grew facial hair:

Out Flat

2011-03-03T19:34:00.000-05:00

Monday night is when it started. I had a hankering for PF Changs (I am ashamed as I type this because there are so many awesome non-chain restaurants in this neighborhood). Seth took me out. It was sorta a belated Valentines date. We paid $7 to park and walked to the restaurant. We sat down, I looked at the menu and chills overcame me. Nothing looked good. I begged to go home. So we did.

Then the kids got pink eye. Then I got pink eye. And still through it all I had a fever that would come and go. Today I woke up with a 102.7 fever. I felt awful. I went to the doctor. This doctor was fantastic but in the end we have no idea why I have a nasty fever. Boo.

Seth had to call in sick today because this mom was out flat. FLAT OUT. I could not even muster to sit up and watch cartoons with the kids. I slept all day long. I woke up at 6:30 to put the kids to bed and now I sit here and blog. I feel sorry for myself. You should feel sorry for me too. I feel like crap.

This is the part where I am supposed to tie my blog post with something Doogie Howser inspirational, but I am not in the mood, so I am just going to say this: I am so grateful to have a husband who understands the importance of a work-family balance and manages every time to do it right.

The Evil Eye

2011-03-02T08:48:00.000-05:00

My sister Shari just left today. It was so much fun having her here. We went to the zoo, the Art Museum, the Air and Space Museum. Fantastic visit. The best part about having my sister here is it is so easy to entertain her. This is what makes the perfect guest:

She helps out in the kitchen
Chips in for groceries or when we go out to eat
Helps clean up
Offers to watch our kids so Seth and I can go out on a date
Doesn't need to be entertained every minute of the day
Love my kids (and I love her little guy, Daniel)

Why am I including these? No reason, maybe I am just trying to inception all of my future guests in Brussels.

The only down fall to Shari's visit was the pink eye that Little D had and then distributed. I didn't think it was contagious until Stella woke up looking like this:

I believe we have a contagious one. You also know something is wrong when your three year old is ASKING to go to the doctor.

This would be less of a hassle if I was in good health but I also have a cold and the beginning of an itchy eye. Seth and I went on a date Monday night and I wasn't even able to make it ten minutes before fever and chills started. It was lame but who wants to pay for food that isn't able to stay? I went to bed at 8:30 that night and have been on a slow road to recovery.

What do you do to fix the evil eye? I believe a visit to the pediatrician (and maybe beg them to give me a script for my eye just in case).

Charlie Sheen and Me

2011-02-27T22:59:00.000-05:00

This blog might seem a bit manic. Last week was love, weather, and cheer; this week I have been sad, frustrated, and annoyed. Our little family has become nameless pawns in a political battle. Seth's pay is being threatened to be cut by 16% when we are abroad. Oh, and in a separate threat the government may shut down, which means Seth won't have any French teacher, which could delay us getting to post. Oh and lets not discuss the whether or won't they cover training expenses (temporary housing etc) if the government shuts down. That hasn't even been discussed. I just hope they figure it out in time and without a cut to Seth's pay.

So I am not going to focus on this. Instead I am just going to ask that you read this and if you agree contact your senator so we can stop this craziness before it goes to the Senate. In return, I promise to bring this blog back to its political neutrality and give you my best secret but true story yet: Charlie Sheen and Sunny on the dance floor.

Before kids, before Seth, before DC, I lived a much different life. I studied film and since I went to school in Utah I was always at the Sundance Film Festival. One year I was there on a documentary film crew. At the end of the day the crew ended up going to a club. I was the only girl on the crew and the club was VIP. My crew pass got me right on in.

Sugar Ray was performing at the club. Not a super big fan of Sugar Ray but seriously, it was my chance to see the celebs up close. I remember Robin Williams was there (super short, sweaty and very hairy) a few other directors, the guy who played Elton from Clueless. It was a fun mix of people.

So I am watching Sugar Ray try to be super-cool singing super-lame songs and the next thing I know someone is behind me trying to get their freak on. Annoyed, I turned around to give the stink eye to the source of unsolicited freak-i-ness and lo and behold: it is Charlie Sheen. So I did what any girl would do, decided this was a one-time deal and danced with him. That's as far as it went, thank goodness.

And now he is a class act.

Love Week

2011-02-20T20:21:00.001-05:00

This past week has rekindled a love for DC in the spring that I had forgotten. While you were freezing we had the perfect day:

It lasted two days long.

Perfection didn't stop there. My most favorite person in the whole world (Seth is not included in this contest) came out to visit.

My sister, Shari, and her darling son Daniel came out. We went to the zoo, in Februrary, the weather was 77. It was almost toasty. It is the dead of winter.

Daniel, Tiger, and Stella...rub a dub dub

The kids are having some serious cousin love.

It has been so much fun.

But it gets better.

On Saturday winter decided it wasn't willing to leave and so there was some serious wind. Like 70 mph gusts. We ignored the wind and had a Love Day party. This was partly because we have no idea if we can throw any sort of party for the kids in May/June due to our impending move. Stella claimed that "this was the most important day of her life." And really when you have only been alive for three years it very well might have. Aunt Shari helped make tiaras with all the kidlings. We made heart shaped pizza with heart shaped pepperoni. There was cupcake and cookie decorating and it was delightful.

But it got better.

Tonight we had a blast from my high school past over for dinner. The Leung sisters Debbie and Sherry came over to visit. It was so much fun. I got to meet Debbie's husband, Adam, catch up, and it felt really good to reminisce about the old days.

But it gets even better.

Aunt Andrea and Uncle Ben picked up Stella for a sleep-over. She was looking out the window all evening in anticipation. This is her second sleep-over and she is a pro now.

But this is the best:

Tomorrow is a holiday that has no major obligation, a free day! We get a three day weekend!

Happy Presidents Day!

Safety - From Fresh Prince?

2011-02-13T09:58:00.001-05:00

This flyer was up at the FSI. Apparently they have a seminar to keep your kids safe from clowns, or 90s rappers.

Jeggins are Not Jeans

2011-02-12T21:21:00.000-05:00

After trying on $2500 worth of jeans...the magic jean that was high enough, not dowdy, stylish, and comfortable turned out to be: Gap 1969 Jeans.

In my search I became strangely aware of the massive amount of jeggins available to the public. Let me be perfectly clear on my stance here. Unless you are toddler girl, jeggins should in no way be worn. Pretty much jeggins or any pants that rhyme with jeggins should not be worn as pants. They are not pants and frankly, they look terrible on EVERYONE. Why we have convinced ourselves that we need jeggins to complete the wardrobe is beyond me. If you have curves they make you look sausage-y, if you are boyish cut they make you look like you forgot to put on real pants. Yikes. I digress...back to my awesome non-jeggin purchase.

Total Cost: $23 (sales person liked me and used a 40% off coupon, or maybe they like everyone and give them 40% coupons.)

Now my next search: spring shoes.

Moon Walk

2011-02-12T20:45:00.000-05:00

Winter had almost hit me with a t.k.o. until I threw this punch at it:

Yup, a giant bounce house. I knew when we ordered it, it would be kinda big. Taking up my ENTIRE living room was something that was a bit of a surprise.

The kids love it and we now have a way to expend energy. The kids are pretty much in heaven. I like it because they are required to clean up all of their toys before we can blow it up and they never argue with me about it.

Go Team!

2011-02-06T23:20:00.001-05:00

Tiger is getting his game on with no shirt. Andrea can't give up her love for the Redskins.

I am not the biggest sports fan in the world. When I was in college I worked on the sports film crew for a while and any enthusiasm I had for sports left as my body was given to running the length of the football field all day while carrying cables or a giant parabola microphone. After that I gave up trying to care, which has been fine.

The best part about marriage is the people it brings into your life. My amazing sister-in-law Andrea is sports fan #1. She shames the entire family with her knowledge and enthusiasm for all sports.

Andrea gives her best beef chunk football player impression. It was impressive.

So when we decided to invite Andrea and Ben to dinner on Sunday it was well understood the Superbowl would come after the chili. So we had a Superbowl party, me the non-sports fan.

And I must say, I pulled it off. I may care about sports but I do like to cook. We made a night of it. I invited my cousins and we watched the commercials with occasional interruptions of football.

Pluggin'

2011-02-05T21:58:00.000-05:00

I don't get any money for this blog. This is mostly due to the fact that there are literally DOZENS of you reading my blog. However, I am not one to turn away a bit of money so if you want to send me something and have me review it, feel free. But until that happens, I am going to plug this book... for free, because I am that nice.

Remember when I asked the blogging universe (can we just call it the blogiverse and save me some letters) about what to do when you think your kid is ready to read. I got a lot of suggestions and I was really appreciative of that. The best advice I got though was this book:

This is a super easy and really straight forward book. Admittedly the cover is LAME-O, but you know what they say about judging a book by the cover.

The program addresses the basics that kids need to know. It comes about with the premise that your child doesn't know their letters. This made a very slow start but once things started picking up it has now become fun.

I wish I had started this earlier because the lessons are set up and so basic that kids can pick it up quickly and then build upon it.

Stella and I are on lesson 39. She loves it and was able to read: a little fish sat on a fat fish. The little fish said, "wow." The little fish did not feel sad. The little fish said, "that fat fish is mom."

I am not going to comment on the lesson of the this story, instead I am ecstatic that my child is starting to read. I highly recommend this book for preschool age kids. If your child can focus for ten minutes than reading is totally within reach if you use this book.

Mom Jeans

2011-02-03T14:06:00.002-05:00

I know what you must be thinking: whoa this girl is losing her mind, two posts in one day. Yup, it is just that important. I am on an all intensive quest to find a pair of high rise jeans. Not the mom jeans of the Jordache days, simply jeans that come up high enough to cover any cleavage (the not as pretty cleavage). I came to this realization the other day when one of my children tried to put a cracker in the aforementioned cleavage and I knew then and there, it is time. Fashion, please give me some jeans that allow me to get my dignity back.

Today I made a trek all the way to Tysons Galleria to try on a pair of J-Crew high rise jeans. In the end I felt like I needed to be 15 and living in Echo Park, CA to pull it off. Not happening.

So...blog universe you have helped me before, does anyone have good high rise jean recommendations? I don't want mom jeans but something that comes a little below the belly button, contains any muffining potential and I don't have to worry about finding a shirt that is long enough.

Danger Squirrel

2011-02-03T13:48:00.001-05:00

After running around town with both kids in the car yesterday they were crabby (surprise). I threw some goldfish back at them and by the time I pulled up to the driveway they were ultra-crabby.

I run get the kids out of the car, run into the house, get some lunch together and by the time I have a moment I realize I left the car door open.

I go to the car to shut the door and as I do a black squirrel darts at me from INSIDE the car. Let me remind you, we have been toying with selling our car, casually listing it, seeing what we can do, and trying to keep our car in perfect shape. Squirrel picnics do not help with this goal.

The squirrel hopped out, left the goldfish he was eating and ran up the tree only to laugh at me as I investigated what had happened. He mocks me every time I go outside.

Doh!

2011-01-31T14:29:00.002-05:00

I rarely subscribe to the weekly State round-up assignment, its hard enough writing without an assignment, but I have vowed to be better about keeping my blog current and I can't pass up an opportunity to share with the world how many international faux pas I have committed.

Growing up my father traveled internationally for work. My mom was raising five kids and as punishment to my father she would purchase a new pet every time he left. (That is another story altogether). One summer my dad decided to give my mom a break and take two of the five kids. So, my younger brother Michael and I were taken to Dublin for three weeks while he attended business meetings all week. I was 14, Mike was 12.

After three weeks we had seen all we could see and decided to go search for a museum downtown. We found the museum and marched right in. I don't know how or why but we were able to get inside and into the main area. Trying to find the exhibits and feeling confused we knew something was wrong. It was when a team of security guards started running after us we know something was really wrong.

Apparently we had walked into Irish parliament, in session. Somehow we were able to get all the way to the point that we waked in and saw it in session. Maybe it was because we were young, or innocent. Either way, it shouldn't have happened and the Irish were not happy (insert Lucky Charms joke here). We were escorted by the security guards out of parliament. Oops!

Things of note for ex-pats going to the Philippines:

Tomboy = lesbian , do not describe yourself as a tomboy unless you wish to convey that you are also a lesbian. If you want to say you are sporty just tell them you like sports.

"For a while" = just a minute. Do not get annoyed when they tell you that you will be waiting "for a while"

Sexy = pretty. Do not get offended when they refer to your husband, child, or yourself as sexy. It has very little to do with sex appeal and a whole lot to do with looking nice.

Eggs = Testicles (actually for that matter pretty much any bird reference is referring to some part down south. Get your junior high snicker on and you can figure it out: bird, nest, eggs, etc).

Sadly I had to learn all of these words the hard way.

Cabin Fevers and Real Fevers

2011-01-29T13:20:00.000-05:00

We are finished....nine days. Our home had one form of fever, diarrhea, vomiting or chills for nine days. And now, we are free!

To celebrate:

Where we saw:

OK, maybe not that exact production, but still. (They didn't allow cameras and sneaking my cell phone camera is just creepy.

The puppet show was awesome. It was also filled with children. Lots and lots of children. Children are living petri dishes of filth.

Which means in two to five days I can expect another nine days of cabin fever.

In other less snarky news, time is flying by and we are getting excited to get to our next post (even though it isn't flying by fast enough). Seth is at a 2/2 in French and has another four months to get to a 3/3, yay Seth. He is starting to think in French and thinks he can explain tenses and conjugations to me as if it were giving me a simple grocery list. I have enlisted a friend to start tutoring me, which should start next week. Yay!

So we are kind of having a tough time deciding what to do about our car. We LOVE our Mini-Cooper. Love. It is tiny, zippy, cute, fits the kids and wards off guests staying too long. It fits all our crap and reminds me that I can't live in our car (I take in the junk more often). It is perfect in so may ways. And in Europe...it should be parfait!

However, we found out that we have to have rear fog lights in Belgium. No big deal right? Well, so far it looks to be a bigger deal that we had thought. Apparently altering a Mini is like untying a Gordian knot, it just can't be done. At least, not easily. So we toyed at selling our beloved and practically new car, but that just sucks, and in the end I am not sure I want to sell the mini. I think the answer is figure out an easy way to install rear fog lights without messing up the complicated computer system that is my magnificent piece of machinery, my mini.

If we did sell the mini we were thinking about a Mazda5. They are as big as a station wagon and have three rows of two. So when all of my mooching relatives and friends come and visit me, I would be able to be a proper tour guide. But, until I officially decide what to do, you folks will be renting a car.

The Last Domino Falls

2011-01-26T22:42:00.001-05:00

It was bound to happen. After spending a week cleaning up Stella's vomit and Tiger's watery diapers it finally hit me. I started to feel sick last night, went to bed and the fever set. I was up all night. Woke up with fever and chills and all day I have been shivering and hot at the same time.

Seth started coming down with the flu about three hours before me and luckily has seemed better than me the whole day, because someone has to take care of our children, and my achy bones were not up for it.

This afternoon it snowed and I would be really excited and declare a sledding day, except that I have a fever, chills, and I cannot go further than 20 feet from the bathroom.

Ready to finish this winter, get better, and start feeling good again.

The Eternal January

2011-01-25T10:41:00.000-05:00

Can it please be March? I am done with winter. This month has dragged on F O R E V E R. Maybe it is the let down after the fun Christmas holidays, maybe it is the 20 degree F temperature (I included the F because I would love 20 C temperature now, seriously).

I had a bit of a melt down of my own yesterday. Tiger cried all day long. He would not be put down for anything. A 28 pound child starts to hurt after a minute or two, it was all day. Stella didn't like being ignored and had woken up at 5 for some unexplainable reason. So, both kids were whiney.

Seth comes home and a beam of light enters our home. I run to the kitchen to make dinner so we can put these kids to bed. In my effort to try to make healthy food I make whole grain pancakes, breakfast cookies with super fiber cereal in them and a yummy berry sorbet (also healthy with tons of fruit, avocado, and sweetened with honey) for dessert. Perhaps not a totally balanced meal but it is a start. I thought for sure no one can put up a fuss about this spread. Stella picked at one pancake, said she only eats cookies with chocolate, and the sorbet was yucky. That pushed me pretty close to the edge but I think it was Tiger throwing his cookie, pancake, and dumping the sorbet on the carpet that did me in.

Neither child ate a thing.

Since I was busy cleaning the tossed food I didn't get anything to eat either.

It was a tense moment. One of those moments you start to understand why people go crazy.

Luckily it passed and I woke up happy and excited to see my bright eyed babies. Seth got to see the first blue eyed beauty. Tiger had woken up and was sitting in a chocolate milkshake, except it wasn't a milkshake and it isn't exactly chocolate. So that is my day today. The silver lining: we now know why he was fussy all day.

Tiger is having a jamies day.

Also this morning Stella was ravenous and ate a breakfast cookie from last night DESPITE them not having chocolate. And for the first time in almost a year she let me put her hair in pig tails. A big deal for Stella.

Stella sporting pig tails and her standard uniform of a sweater dress.

Sleep Deprivation with a Cherry on Top

2011-01-22T19:25:00.000-05:00

I am in a haze of existence right now. I feel like I did after a flight to Asia. A little dizzy, room is spinning, my eye is twitching. In the past 48 hours I have had 6 hours of sleep.

Forget about my New Year's resolution to get more sleep. My life include small children and sleep and children don't co-exist.

Stella woke up Thursday night at 9:00 calling for me. When I went upstairs she was covered in her dinner. We cleaned her up and right as she was fresh and clean she lost it again, all over her hair and jamies. We cleaned her again. Put her to bed. She puked in her bed.

At this point we are running low on hot water. The wash is running, the bath is running, and my little girl is sick.

I decided to let her sleep with us. This meant no sleep for me. She got sick about four more times. Into the day she still can't keep water down. After 16 hours of being sick she kept some juice in and started to get her color. I was tired and dying to go to sleep.

Friday night is my big make-up sleep and I am so tired I could cry.

At 2:30 am I am awoken to this being screamed, "I am going to F*** you in the face! I am going to kill you!"

Not the best wake up call. My not-so-cute next door neighbors are totally drunk and the girl is beating some guy who is laying on the ground passed out. Her roommate is trying to hold her back. I was livid. I was awoken by someone who was not my next of kin!

I call 9-1-1 and tell them about my trashy neighbors. They send two cop cars, a firetruck, and an ambulance. I can only assume the big firetruck was for backup paramedic but really? The thing was 60 feet long. There are flood lights in my bedroom and the girl has to be calmed down by the police officer.

The leave at 3:45 am and I am so tired my eyes are twitching. I am angry. I am wide awake.

I beg Seth to snuggle me so I can calm down. He gladly obliges. I finally shut my eyes and at 4:30 Tiger wakes up.

With the flu going around I feel like I can't ignore him. I calm him down and put him back to sleep (he wasn't sick).

5:00 am Stella climbs into bed and wants to snuggle which means I get about six inches of mattress.
6:30 am Tiger is ready to wake up. I get up with him so Seth and Stella can sleep some more.
7:00 Stella wakes up and I hand Tiger to Seth to try to sleep for the first time since 2:30.

I feel awful.

The cherry on top is this: Uncle Ben and Aunt Andrea came and watched the kiddies this afternoon so Seth and I could escape to Spa World. Spa World is a Korean water, sauna, steam spa. You pay $30 and can stay as long as you want. It has pools, hot tubs, differing sauna rooms and textures. Super fun but super naked. If you can't handle being naked forget it. The entire pool area is separated by gender and totally nudey nude. After having 2 kids I feel like I have nothing to loose and was fine but I imagine Sunny of 12 years ago would have been squirming just a bit.

For a naked good time go to Spa World in Centerville. Super fun and I was able to get some shut eye among naked strangers. It was fantastic and made my terrible day into a very tolerable day.

Shattered

2011-01-20T21:29:00.000-05:00

Today was supposed to be a really good day. Today is Thursday and Thursday is the one out of two days a week that I get to take my beautiful babies and send them away for 2.5-3 hours. And I had big plans.

Most of the plans consisted of watching:

While walking 4.5 mph on this:

(I would show actual footage of me working out but the YMCA is so not cool with camera phones being used and Tina Fe is WAAAY funnier).
I finished my workout and was covered with sweat when I get a call. The dreaded call. Tiger's play group was calling. He had been crying for an hour and half. I needed to come and get him.

So I get some clothes on (he was crying not injured), no shower, hop in the car.

My poor kid is just miserable. His mouth is hurting him and there is nothing I can do. A lot of people have recommended all sorts of really good remedies, really good if you have the self control or knowledge to spit. Sadly my nineteen month old only spits involuntarily or when I try to feed him something healthy. He hasn't been eating well, he hasn't been sleeping well. He hurts and he just wants to be held.

The day pretty much went like that until Seth got home.

That night I was forced to attend a training for the co-op. It was on health assessment, how to know when a kid is sick. You know because parents can only figure that out in a class.

So I am drifting off and wishing I was watching Thursday night TV when I hear this tidbit:

"Hand sanitizer is in no way a substitute for soap!"

My ears perk up. My ears perk up for two reasons and both take me back to the Philippines:
1. I had an awesome masseuse in the Philippines who would always use the bathroom before she started rubbing me. She would never wash her hands in my bathroom but always used alcohol sanitizer and I was a little weirded out by that.

2. Before I had my c-section with Tiger I used the hospital bathroom. I went to wash my hands and there was no soap. I complained in my usual way that I was all too tired of hearing at that point, and the nurse directed me to some hand sanitizer gel. I argued with her that if I had gotten poop on my hands and used the hand sanitizer it would just be poop with alcohol on it but it would still be there (I didn't actually get poop on my hands). Of course the nurse just got embarrassed about me talking loudly and about poop and repeated that there is hand sanitizer. This would have left my mind but then right before my surgery I see my doctor go to scrub in and her process involves only using hand sanitizer and no soap, now let me give my awesome Filipino doctor credit. She may have scrubbed in somewhere else that I didn't see, all I saw was the dollop of alcohol gel before my c-section. Somehow I survived but lets not forget I got a freaking parasite four days after giving birth, a parasite contracted through fecal matter ingestion.

I guess the whole thing that I took out of everything, something I knew then and something I know now, trust your gut. If it seems gross it is gross. When it comes to your health you need to enforce others to comply to your standards of sanitation.

Even with all of that, I miss the Philippines sometimes; not always, but sometimes.

The Canker Gnaws

2011-01-18T10:13:00.002-05:00

On Saturday our cute neighbors had us over for dinner. They have a little girl that is a year older than Tiger and a year younger than Stella. Which meant Stella had someone who would pretend with her and didn't mind being bossed around. Perfect (or as Stella has been saying 'parfait', she wants to impress her daddy).

Our kids were really well behaved, initially, everyone was happy, and then we decide to eat. Within five minutes of eating Stella is rejecting her food and then she runs to the bathroom. Once Stella's chair was emptied Tiger takes over, starts to eat her food and then with a fork in hand falls over the chair. Blood is everywhere. Screaming.

I call for Seth but he is gone. At that exact moment Stella had an accident (she didn't know where their bathroom was, tight leggings, a disaster waiting to happen really). To make matters worse we had no change of clothes or wipes (it was across the street so I didn't think to prepare well. We ended up putting her in Tiger's diaper and begging some wipes off the neighbors.

The snotty nose is from crying after a fight with his sister.

Tiger had badly bitten his lip in three places. To this day I am still not sure if he bit it all the way through or just in three spots. Now he has a canker sore plus. He has been waking up at five every morning screaming about his boo boo and food bothers him too. Poor little guy.

Poor kid. Look at that canker it is bigger than his tooth.

What can you do for a giant caker sore on a baby?

Banging it Out!

2011-01-17T21:11:00.001-05:00

Here is the history:
1990: got bangs and a spiral perm. I thought it was awesome. It wasn't.
2007: After I had Stella my hair decided it wanted to go the way of the placenta and all fell out. I had tons of hair just poking out so I decided to make good with it and cut bangs. The result was this:

That was the cutest day it looked. It was all down hill from there.

So here I am 2011. The urge is hitting me again. I want to look have cute Zoey Deschanel hair.

But then I remember that bangs are a hassle, never sit right, and get in my eyes. Forget cool bangs that swoop in your eyes. I have those in a clip before my hair is even dry.

So here is my hair now:

I darkened it a bit to get rid of all the gross damaged caused by idiot hair stylists in Asia that have no idea how to do my very basic boring blonde hair and over bleached it. (Don't even get me started on my friend's hair who they burned off, yup, hospitals were involved). I just think bangs could be cute, but I also know how much I will hate myself when I have to flat iron them or something. How do people even make the straight bang look good? I have never figured it out and that is part of the problem.