Life: Idiotropic

Open Doors.  It's a little like an open house.  It's a lot like a fish bowl.

In past schools this type of event would be interactive with your child.  In this one, they are fish and you just watch them swim.  It's a bit odd.

We arrive on time.  The kids are all sitting quietly listening to a lesson on shapes.  The teacher is speaking painfully slow.  I realize later that it's to help the children who don't yet speak English well.  I also realized that the British pronounce the "gon" at the end of their shapes like I pronounce the "gon" in my home state of Oregon - more like "g-in" instead of "gone."

Parents arrived in the dim room and lined the walls and stood.  That was it.  They stood and talked and watched their children "make a shape person" quietly by themselves at their tables.  Parents took time off of work for this. 

After we went to the playground to stand around and talk and watch the kids play.  Now I know why Elise comes home so filthy.  The entire playground is covered in a thin layer of fine taupe-colored powder. 

Seems this is more an opportunity for the parents to network than it is a time to be involved with the kids.  Networking can be good though. I talked with a mom who's father had a home by the Ayuntamiento.  We've been invited to watch a Falla mascleta from it in March!

A bit of Halloween decorations and candy in the stores combined with the lure of sweets and the readily available American programming (dubbed, of course), and the Spanish have figured out what Halloween is.  Implementing it... well, that's where it gets tricky.

The kids know.  They dress up, grab bags, and head out.  The adults, well, that's where things get a bit slow.  Probably 90% of the kids want to adopt this holiday while less than 10% of the adults have a clue.  Thus, thousands of kids and only a couple houses offering candy = participating homes run out quickly and kids go home with what might fill a small sandwich bag.

Our neighborhood organized the "event."  The vigilantes stood watch and slowly drove around the neighborhood.  It was posted and mailed out that we would begin at 5:30.  At 5:30 there was a huge crowd of oddly dressed kids at the club entrance.  At 6, the vigilante told us to start and we all fanned out throughout the neighborhood.

Kirk and Elise passed out candy.  They were out in an hour and the doorbell ran for another hour even though the pumpkin was in and the lights off.

A pumpkin on the gate meant that house was open for trick or treating.  Not many were.  Some streets had one house.  It was still nice to be out walking and gave us the chance to gawk at some really palacial homes here.  (Mine is quite normal, but I live among mansions.)

With large yards and walls built around each home, it took a while at each house.  They'd ring the bell, then wait as the person inside had to gather the candy bucket, leave their house, walk to the gate, then open in and allow the children to choose candy. 

 An American in the neighborhood created a haunted house in her basement that was really quite scary.  A few allowed kids to enter their homes or patios for the candy.  I peeked in to see the houses themselves.  Amazing.

The Rules of Trick or Treating don't apply the same here.  Many houses gave out unwrapped candy.  A lot of gummies were thrown in.  My kids wanted to eat them... normally, they'd get tossed, but here... yep, they ate them.  It's Spain.  It's different.  In some ways, it's safer.  In this neighborhood, definitely.  And, most of the time, I saw the families grabbing the candy directly from the bag, so I saw where it came from. 

So, after two hours of walking and having a great time doing it, this was Arianna's loot.  Luci got about the same.  There was nothing left at our house.  Sad.  I bought some good stuff.

But after school we had a bit of a party here at the house with some of the girls' school friends and when one brought plastic teeth to my little hostesses, the party took on a whole new level of scary.

Bats blood with chips, witch noses and goblin eyes, spider legs, and cups of mud with bugs... by 5:30, the kids are starving, so snacks would be the first order of party business.

Sue organized a treasure hunt that sent a morose gang of girls screaming and running and and out and around and through the house with lightening speed.  The sugary snacks probably helped, but they'd get more.  They played the donut game next, trying their best to eat a donut hanging on a string with their hands behind their backs.  Messing eating continued with apple bobbing grosser than I'd remembered with so many kids dipping their open mouths into that same pot of water, some coming up with drippy wet hair and faces.

They did a ping pong ball toss, painted terra cotta pots with jack o lantern faces, and carved real pumpkins before someone decided to paint those too.

It was fun.  A scary game of freeze dance to the Monster Mash and other Halloween hits and the party ended with sugared up kids going home and a mess to clean on Dad and Angie's first night here.  Yes, visitors arrived today and I welcomed them with a houseful of screaming kids on a sugar high.  I'm such a good hostess.  Want to come visit?

Today I found these orange friends at Consum ridiculously priced, so we only came home with the minimum three.  The "large" ones cost 5 Euro. 

The girls came home from school, did a quick tidy of the patio, then welcomed 4 friends with appropriately loud Halloween screams.

Suus and Jop, children of my Dutch friend, Gabrielle, had never carved pumpkins before, nor had Natasha and Mateus, from New Zealand.  They all enjoyed getting their hands gooey and drawing on faces.  Gabrielle and I laughed half way through when they all tired of it, running off asking the mommies to finish the job. 

Typical.  The kids all played school together until it was nearing dark and the mom's had to get them home and sleeping because tomorrow is a real school day.  I don't play work when I'm not working.  Don't get why playing school could be fun during a school week, but to each his own.  I was thrilled they were all playing happily.

Screens.  You know those wire mesh things that block windows in most American homes?  The things that fall off when you don't want them to and won't come off when you need to break into your own house?

Well, most European homes don't have them.

They hang beads and lace and chains in their doorways to keep out flies, but when the windows are open, it's an open invitation to all things winged and scaled to fly or creep in. 

The good thing?  Well, first, it's much easier to break into your house.  And, secondly, it makes play much more fun.

Last year I found them playing jail.  This year, they've combed their rooms for things that they needed to "barter."  Arianna, who's been brainstorming ways to get rich quick, got out old fabrics, plastic bags, buttons, thread, and a stapler to create a selection of fashion statements worthy of Milan's catwalk. 

I told her that she was not allowed to accept her sister's money for these creations, so they all set up store out Arianna's window and used their rejects to "barter," a fun game that they kept up until it was too dark to see what they were trading.

It doesn't matter how educated or successful a woman might be, there is an unequivocal sense of  accomplishment in some of life's traditionally "feminine" tasks.

Today I prepared both chicken paprikas and curry chicken in my kitchen with two of my daughters at my side helping me.  It was peaceful and productive.  A Little Women moment and a beautiful one.  I love that my younger girls are starting to participate in my kitchen though I'm still nervous watching my 9-year old wield a knife.

Tonight as I walked up the stairs, I could hear both the washing machine and dishwasher running.  The doors were locked, lights out, lunches packed for tomorrow. 

It's not the image I'd had for myself and I am much more than this domestic goddess, but it does feel good and I see a light.  At the end of this tunnel, I'll be handing over much of the cooking to the girls and heading to the spa for a pedi.

... that I didn't need.

I know the word for chicken.  It's "pollo."  I buy it all the time at the market.  Some Americans (not me) have made the mistake of trying to make it feminine and ordering "polla," which makes the Spanish grocers fall over laughing to the embarrassment of the aforementioned American (agin, not me - thank goodness).  Until now, I wouldn't have understood why.  I didn't learn this kind of vocabulary in my Spanish class.  Some things, I just don't want to know.

We experienced some bullying last week.  Not "we," really, but my 9-year old girl.  She was repeatedly called loser and tonta (stupid).  One boy picked up leaves and smashed them into her face knocking her glasses to the ground.  A group of boys followed her around each day asking "do you eat 'polla?'"  She came home angry and upset, hating school and begging not to go back.

I was upset and sent a note to the school.  On Friday, I found out what "polla" meant.  Anger, frustration, hurt, disgust:  I was absolutely horrified.  Apparently this thing that is not a female chicken refers to that little floppy thing that hangs between these little boys legs.  Yep.  Gross.  These boys are nine and they're asking "do you eat...."

Nine.  Seriously, is this normal?  Certainly not in my world.  Thankfully, my note was met with as much horror and the issue was dealt with immediately.  So far, so good... Arianna came home on Monday absolutely happy that now "everybody wants to me [her] friend." 

Phew.  Now I don't have to go down there and beat up any prepubescent school boys.

This was a family weekend where we were the Cleavers and everything went smoothly.  Kirk tested out the tents two night in a row "camping" in the back yard.  They made sh'mores and roasted hot dogs.

They built a "bus" for their American girls with our Radio Flyer wagon.

On Sunday, they did experiments - all four girls.

1) Put 1/2 cup vinegar in a plastic bottle.  Put 1/2 cup baking soda into a balloon.  Attach the balloon to the top of the bottle and let the baking soda mix into the vinegar.  The two will react and fill the balloon with air.

2) We learned that while tossing a mento into a coca cola will cause quite an eruption, using mento gum in a beer is quite anticlamactic.

3)  Elise learned that oil and water don't mix and watched droplets of food coloring slowly sink to the bottom of the oil and mix with the water.

Kirk made paella.  I baked cookies.  Tiara and I did our prosciutto themed dinner.  The weather was great and I was able to sneak in two local cultural events:  the bull fight and the giant paella.

Amazing.

Next weekend, the Cleavers take to the highway and find themselves living in a beach apartment in Altea.  ;)  Stay tuned.

P.S.  Today is German Reunification Day AND my mom's birthday.  Happy Birthday, Mom!

More than just a Navy base, but... unfortunately this is about all we saw of this tiny town just across the water from Cadiz, another town that we didn't see.

I'm not quite sure what we were thinking.  I suppose I'll blame it on that whole "adult responsibility" thing winning out over the carefree me that wanted to stay a few extra nights.  School?  Work?  Eh.  How often do we get to see this??

So we spent Thursday in the car - all day.  From 1030 until close to 2000 with just a stop for gas a stop for a really average lunch that was edible, but not the hot and hearty I craved.

Friday was at the Navy base from 0730 until close to 1800.  Doctor's appointments for all 6 of us and commissary shopping which is a joy after being without it.

We found out that Tiara may have asthma and does have migraines.  Arianna has migraines too and scoliosis.  Luci's perfect so far except for her eyes, and Elise got an antibiotic for her lingering ear infection/ear drum perforation.

I liked my doctor enough until I left and realized that I got absolutely nothing accomplished.  Every single gripe/concern was met with a very smiley "you're in your 30's."  Great.  Fab.  So I'm getting older.  But last time I checked, "30's" wasn't old.  Do I really have to deal with pain now? The other humorous nugget of my visit is that I don't know if I need these visits and have no idea still what exactly was removed (or not removed) during my hysterectomy 2 years ago.  Time to dig up a German dictionary, get a copy of my record, and find out.

Bonus of this all:  An inexpensive lunch and dinner (how pathetic are we??) at Subway and a couple hours to leisurely walk around both the NEX and Commissary where we loaded up on cheddar cheese and Italian sausage among other things.

This walk on the beach was the only bit of Andalucia that I got this trip.  Tragic that I drove over 16 hours and an hour on the beach is my only reward.  But, then again, we got stuff done.  Kids have meds, I have a quandary, and the fridge has cheese.  Whoopeee.

This morning my four girls began the first day of their last day at Caxton.  An odd way to put it, perhaps, but the four are all in full agreement that though this year will be better than the last one, they will be happy to move on.

At breakfast Elise talked about "when she's in year 3," and I reminded her that she won't be at Caxton for year 3.

     "We're moving next summer?????!???!?!!!"
     "Yes."  An arm shoots up and she just about jumps out of her chair. 
     "Yippeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


We made their lunches last night.  Tacos for three.  Gnocchi and salad for one.  I took off the patches from last year's polos and sewed them on new, nicer polos I got in the states.  They got their backpacks ready.

And this morning they were up early and ready to go.  Not excited, but calm, resolute, and fairly content.  It will be a good year, may be even better than they realize.  I'm sure of it.

I would like to write something deeply moving and sentimental, but the whirrrr of the fan is putting me to sleep and the heat in my office has melted away any remaining shreds of creativity.  Add the high volume yelling downstairs between my evens and interruptions every five minutes and you have one worn out me.

Sad because I'd really like to convey just how absolutely amazing my now 15 year old really is.

We laugh as if we're sisters, we talk like two old friends, she 'gets me' like no other, and yet I have all the pride of a mom because I am her mom and I am proud of the incredible young woman she's become.

Today was her day.  And she required three things:  to sleep in, to watch the last game of the World Cup in Engish at home in her jammies, and to have candles on this cake.  Not difficult at all.

INGREDIENTS

• 1 cup packed brown sugar (1/2 cup)
• 1/2 cup butter (1/4 cup)
• 2 tablespoons water (1T)
• 2 (29 ounce) cans sliced peaches, drained  (I used fresh nectarines.  Apples would be great too)
• 12 (3/4 inch thick) slices day-old French bread
• 6 eggs
• 1/2 cup milk  (great with a bit of cream)
• 1/2 cup sliced almonds (any nut will do)
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 1 pinch ground cinnamon, or to taste

   NOTES:  I used the original portions for the caramel sauce, but it was entirely too much.  I would make this again, but half the caramel and experiment with different fruit/nut combinations and even change the extract.  This has real potential.

 
Ok, so I seriously need to come up with a new collective nickname for my girls.  My youngest three have been “the littles” for just about forever and now my oldest “little” is nine - hardly little anymore.

Elise is famous!  :)

http://www.caxtoncollege.com/en/colegio/proyecto-educativo/durante-el-curso-academico.html

Today I felt like I belonged.  In some strange way, though I've been quite content, today, at Caxton's "fun day" of all places, something just clicked. 


It was a carnival style event.  Booths, crafts, games.  Small prizes.  Each teacher ran a booth.  Kids ran freely from activity to activity.  Parents socialized.  In this small thing that felt so abnormally normal,  I realized that my time of "newcomer" has come to an end.  Today I recognized and was recognized.  Today I talked, a lot, to a lot of different people.  And it all felt normal.  And I felt like I was part of something now.  I'm not on the outside looking in any more.   The water is no longer cold.  Now I'm in, the water's warm, and my toes are wet.  Time for a swim.

The kids played.  (They're "swimming" too.)  Arianna and Luci visited the activities and decorated cookies.  Elise saw the trophies at the chess table when we first arrived and was so determined to win one that she spent almost the entire 2 hours of "fun day" at that chess table playing against her teacher who was walking inside the circle of tables playing all the kids at once.  I was so proud of her.  She gave up all the other activities in order to achieve her goal and she did. 

At the end of the time, Elise went home with her best friend, Lola, for her very first sleepover ever and Luci went home with her friend Natasha for the rest of the day.  Arianna went home to have "special sister time" with Tiara and Kirk and I went out to a tapas bar.  Our family of six split into 4 different directions, a busy sunny Saturday... it's so "normal," it's becoming a bit like home.