So she’s 10.

I will admit here that this birthday was not what any of us had planned. We all thought that we would be having a great time skiing with family on a mountain, but nope, we were on day 6 of being cooped up in our condo because of her bad knee. A nice condo to be sure, but cooped up nonetheless. Try as I might to make it a super day, I swear I did, it was still not the day my kid was expecting.

We started out the day with waffles. The toaster kind. Last year on her birthday we hadn’t been able to find them in the grocery store in Wanaka. And yes, I love making everything from scratch, but not in a caravan. This year I did get a complaint from my nephew that the toaster waffles were not as good as homemade, but mate, there is only so much a mother can be. I figure after they added the whip cream, chocolate sauce, maple syrup and sprinkles they wouldn’t be able to taste much of the waffle anyway. In full disclosure this picture is of the cousins eating their waffles the day after her birthday. I was suckered into allowing another morning of gluttony.

After breakfast Lana and I were left alone. I know, I know, it was her birthday, but after seeing Disney channel in the background for 5 days I was losing my mind. Then add to the fact that my kid who seemed to be on the mend two days before was all of a sudden limping again. It was a bit frustrating for us all. We were questioning our decision not to get an MRI. There were some tears and arguing, but rather than go to the doctor at lunch time (plan C) we went with our birthday plan B which was to try to meet the family on top on the mountain for lunch. Usually this involves nothing more timing things, but today we had to try to negotiate getting a kid with an injury but a season pass (can ride every day at no additional cost) and a mother with no injury, but no skis on either and no season pass and not willing to pay my albeit reduced daily rate to ride the lift.

Well aren’t we lucky that the ski lift attendant was a kind soul who also happened to be a Capricorn and let us on the lift. See no skis, just her mother’s nice boots.

We rode to the top where we met our entire family and my sister-in-law’s neighbors who they happened to bump into the day before in the lift line. No joke. Lunch was okay, but the view was spectacular.

Happy Birthday Lana Banana!

A great thing about spending a week with family is that you can share responsibility for watching over sick and injured kids. Not that I want my nephew to be sick of course, but his having the flu has meant that between aunties and uncles I have been able to leave the house. Thank goodness. Yet as we approached one week since Lana hurt her leg I was feeling all the greater need to make excuses to get out of the house. Both for my sanity as well as for an opportunity for her to test her leg. So on the one week anniversary we ventured out on a walk to the grocery store. We can easily get there on a free bus, but really, this is a much more fun way to get there.

Let me show you how we roll. First we walk across the parking lot of our condo complex. The pavement is heated. I know that sounds ridiculous. It’s not like you can feel being emitted from below your boots, but there is never any ice on the drive. That is awesome.

We took poles to help us will the hill. That was our reason, but we did also want to feel as cool as Auntie Diane and Ti Zé who go on ‘real’ caminos.

As soon as we hit snow those poles came in handy. My husband is already having a difficult time with my daughter’s injury, if she were to fall again he might just lose the rest of his mind. And speaking of my husband, he skied right past us. He did ask if we wanted to wait for him, but my thinking was me might lose our momentum if we stopped. So off we went.

So on we went…

The snowball fight initiated by my daughter is a good sign that her leg is feeling better.

Then we walked up hill. It isn’t too easy, but it’s manageable with good boots (Lana has on mine, thank you very much:)

Do you see the car at the top? That’s the parking lot of the grocery store and the town center. We all made it in one piece. And there you have it. Our camino to our little grocery store.

We are now in Colorado. It is one of my husband’s favorite places on Earth. Now that I have come here I can understand why. It is breathtakingly beautiful. However the other, probably greater reason that he loves Colorado is the skiing. He loves to ski. Understandably so as he is really really good at it. He is a thing to see when he skis. Really beautiful to watch.

I had not skied in over 10 years and I wasn’t sure how it would go, but I did just fine.

My first day out I did not have a helmet so I was quite careful. After finding out how much an adult lesson would cost I asked my husband for pointers. He was patient with me & I was patient with him and I will admit here that I learned a thing or two that first day.

The pictures make our day look much darker than it really was. There must be something about taking pictures on a snowy mountain that causes the camera to overcompensate for the brightness and hence results in a darkened photo. But I assure you, I needed the tinted goggles.

While we were out on the slopes our kids were in ski school. I can teach my kids to read, but I have no idea what to do on on ski hill. My husband may know what to do, but would lose his mind teaching our children. It would not be pleasant for anyone.

So we gave them a hug and a kiss and dropped them both off. Day 1 was great, Day 2 even better. To tell you the truth at this point I was thinking how lucky my children are. I was thinking what a gift we are giving them. Not only do they get to visit another state. But they get to spend our time here with family (visiting from NZ) and friends (our mates our heading over from Cali), but they get to have professional ski instruction on a top mountain at a young age. At a place that looks like this..

So on Day 3 I was a little surprised when Nuno told me he did not want to attend class. He said he wasn’t feeling well and wanted to stay home. People, my kids know me well enough to know that a day home with mom means NO technology or treats. And that is how we spent our day. Lana on the other hand went happily off to ski school. At one point in the day I remember thinking how far along she has come. 1) she was skiing. This in itself is a big deal. She is a child that would prefer to read than play with other kids on the playground for the one reason that  that play involves running around. 2) She wanted to go ski. Yep, that one leaves me speechless. 3) She willingly stayed knowing that her brother would not be with her. Not that they’d be in the same class, but this is a child that used to never want to be left anywhere without the ‘backup’ of family.

SOOOOOO you can imagine my surprise when I got to the pick-up area and was approached by Sophia’s instructor who was alone. He started by telling me that Sophia was doing a great job skiing. And then he said something about her taking a challenge to get to level 4 and deciding on her own volition to do a blue square and then hitting ice. I don’t mean to be flip, but this is not characteristic of my kid. My child is the one on day 1 who before lunch was feigning altitude sickness, not the one who challenges herself.

Nuno and I hopped on a gondola and made it up to the clinic where she had been transported to by ski patrol. When I walked in I was greeted by this gorgeous face.

Let me tell you. She was so cute. She started by recounting how she has been wanting to take gymnastics and that today she got to do a tumble turn. But unlike her desire to try in the safety of a gymnastics class on a mat, that she did one on the mountain, after hitting ice. She told me how she hit her head then banged and/or twisted her knee. She couldn’t remember exactly as it happened all so fast. But whatever happened it hurt and my baby cried for 10 minutes straight. Two seats over, at the clinic sat her buddy Will who fell on the same patch of ice. Possibly distracted by watching Lana fall. Poor kid, his shoulder looked more messed up than Lana’s knee. He was sweet and I thought how lucky that Sophia got to meet another wonderful person on this little adventure we call life.

Then we sat, we waited, the clinic was hopping. We were joined by my husband. He was stressed. It as funny to me as he seemed shocked that Lana could get hurt skiing. I mean really, did he think we had signed her up for chess lessons?

Finally she was seen by the doctor and the news was not horrible, but not good either. No broken bones, but she believed it was a torn ligament. That involves MRIs and possibly surgery. I was just happy my kid had a helmet on. Really happy. I am pretty sure his stress was about 1) his baby getting hurt doing something he encouraged her to do 2) his bewilderment at the thought of his bibliophile getting hurt doing a sport 3) the fact that this could be a reason for her to have surgery and 4) the cost, the insurance, the pain in the neck of it all. But whatever it is, he was not a pleasant person to be around.

Well, Lana was totally aware of her stressed out father. So much so, that when we were on the bus heading home she insisted that she was going to use her Christmas/Birthday money on her MRI. Wrong. I hugged her, loved her and told her, “No, we have insurance and daddy is just stressed, but it’s okay. We are okay.” But really, isn’t that sweet?

So we came home and went to bed with a knee brace on our Lana. I was still positive, but when I awoke at 1am I was feeling guilt. Horrible guilt. Here I though we were giving her a gift, but instead she got an injury. A possibly pretty bad injury. Did we push her too far? Did we make her feel like she had to do it to meet our approval? As I thought all these things, I looked over to my daugher who was asleep in bed next to me and in her sleep she mumbles, “I love you mom.” My heart sang. And my brain thanked her. I do not deserve this child. I know that, but I am still grateful for her.

We are at Friday and we somehow got an appointment with the Orthopedic Doctor. More for dad ‘s peace of mind truth be told,but I will be honest we are all happy with the news. It looks like this little monster may only have a bruised muscle and possibly a bruised growth plate. Fingers crossed she does not have a torn meniscus. If so she will be operated on next Thursday. But right now we are positive that she will be better. That we will walk away, without crutches, from Colorado, with smiles on our faces with only good memories of our time here.

I received an email the other day from an old friend asking how we managed the transitions from one move to another. She has a friend who has had to make an international move and her children are not adapting well. My heart goes out to this woman. It is hard enough to organize a life in a new place, but to see your children suffer sadness makes the whole experience miserable. I know. I have been there.

Our first move to Australia was particularly hard on my daughter. We had just dragged her away from her little school that she had attended since she was 3. And what was worse, we took her away from her cherished aunties who doted and spoiled her. My husband and I love our kids, but the love my children received from my family was super special and something we could not duplicate. Couple that with the fact that I was bitter about the move, you can imagine my first month in Australia was not the most fun I had ever had.

So, what did I do? I faked it. Yup, I never let them see me cry. Well, there was that one time that Lana and I both broke down sobbing hysterically in a children’s art class at the local art gallery, but other than that spectacle I never let them see me cry. I was honest that I missed home. Honest that this was an adventure dad wanted to have. Honesty is very important, but I needed to put on a brave face and be positive if I wanted them to try to make it work. I also never blamed their father. He was the reason we left the States and he was very excited about this adventure, but it was pointless to focus on that. I needed to make this an adventure.

So here is what I recommend:

1. Keep busy: I might be a bit crazy, but I think if you are busy you are less likely to be sad. So I try to make sure that we have things to do. This is true for adults as well as for kids. It is also a way to sell yourself on where you are. Finding things to do in Sydney was easy. But really there is no excuse, anywhere. Even in our small village in Portugal there are many options that are not too far. Make your weekends fun. Show the kids that this new place is great. If you are working, than being busy is easy. If you are not working than volunteer. If the kids are in school then take the time to enjoy at least part of the weekend with them.

2. Set up playdates: People, I can not emphasize how important this is. Life is crazy. Weekdays can be insane, but these are kids and they deserve their time to play. This is a challenge here in Portugal as school hours are crazy and activities run very late, but even if it’s only on Fridays and the weekend it is really important for kids to have a relaxed time outside of school to play. When I was in Sydney and in Auckland I would set one day during the school week for each child that they could invite a friend over to play. Reflecting on that I realize that often that drop-off/pick-up time was also a time for me to chat with the parents. It’s how I became friends with some of the people that I now most adore in this world.

3. Get involved: Now I will admit I have been very lucky. On each of these three moves I have not had to work so I have been lucky to volunteer at each of the schools where my children attended. But there are ways to volunteer even if you do work. Even if it’s bringing things to school. Ask the teacher if she needs things cut for the kindergarten class that you can do on the weekends. Bake for the bake sales…anything! Your kids will love it. I have met the best people by volunteering in my kids schools. Even this last one which I thought would be a snob haven I have met just the most gorgeous people. Do it, you will not regret it.

4. Be yourself: When we enrolled our kids at a certain ‘fancy’ school someone in our family suggested we would need to get a new car for school drop off. I had the smallest car with a few dents. My opinion was that I was sending my kids there for an education, not to impress anyone. I am a firm believer that character counts. Of course a flashy car and fancy clothes impress, but if we can not be ourselves than what are we teaching our children to be. This also applies when my daughter tells me that ‘this one can..” or ‘this one has…’ My response is that our family does it this way. I am defining what is right for me and the standards I live by. I want my children to know that defining who they are is their choice, not anyone else’s.

5. Make it an adventure…no one knows where the road will lead you, so enjoy the ride: Do you think I ever thought I would be living in Portugal and happily sending my kids to school here? Never in my wildest dreams, but here I am. And tomorrow. I am not too sure. So we talk, we address issues, we look for possible solutions and we keep sight of that fact that if things are really ever that horrible we will look for a change. Now that is not a perfect solution. At age 7 when we were flying to visit friends I was discussing where we would pick to live that would be fair to everyone and my daughter’s response was, “Can’t you see there is no fair. That there is no way we can all be happy when each of us wants to be in a a different place and sometimes 2 places at once.” Okay, that one got me. But even though our hearts are pulled in different directions, I try to remember how lucky we are to have seen new and different things and to have met people that we can now not imagine not being a part of our lives. It’s hard. But it’s blessed.

6. Don’t lose hope that it can get better: When we arrived in Australia it was the worst time of my life. I was dealing with the residuals of facial paralysis. I felt horrible and ugly and I was in a strange new place with a lot beautiful people. I never, never thought I could make that place home. Two years later I had a wonderful group of friends and my children were a part of a beautiful community. When we left both my children and I did not want to move on. Never had I thought I would feel that way. But I did.

7. Give them heaps of love. Sometimes I am bad at this. I get angry. Lose my patience. Yell. But they are our babies. Love them. And know that they love you. You are family and so long as you are together you will all be alright. And sometimes, when it is really bad, I climb into bed with them and cuddle them. It sometimes is all I want.

Good luck:)

Keep busy

In Portugal, in an attempt to boost sales I am sure, magazines and newspapers have campaigns whereby if you purchase the magazine or newspaper you get something free or you can purchase an item for a much reduced price. I usually pass on the ‘bag’ campaigns, but I admit I am a sucker for educational materials. In the past I have purchased the additional books, usually for my father. Just last week I bought the Biography of Steve Jobs for 1€! My father read it in a couple of days. One campaign I somehow completely missed out on was for Portuguese English bilingual fairy tale books. Typically I do not like bilingual children’s book, but these are fabulous. They were brought to my attention by a friend who works at a gas station. I bought every copy in the series I could get my hands on. We are keeping a copy of each one and the others are gifts for friends back home.

A few weeks ago a new campaign was started through Expresso Newspaper. It included a free poster and 4 weeks of stickers and information on the Kings of Portugal. Knowing nothing about our royal past I thought this would be great for the kids as well as myself.

Yesterday while having breakfast, Lana looks over at the poster as asks almost in an alarmed tone, “Mom, there are no black kings!” Knowing my country’s history, I think my response was, “Of course not”…or “I know.” Honestly, I am not sure even now that Portugal has it in itself to vote in a black man or a a woman for that matter. It took me a second to process that this child has taken for granted the assumption that a black man can be the leader of a nation. For these past 4 years, her president, yes, she still considers herself very American, is a black man. I don’t know if she remembers any of her other presidents. It was such a truly awesome moment for me. Four years ago, I did not know if America had it in itself to vote a black man into power and here my daughter assumes it’s a natural thing. Think what you may about his politics, but I think it’s an awesome shift in thinking.

Now, I did not mar the moment with delving into Portugal’s ugly history in the slave trade and the story of  it’s colonization of African, Asian and South American lands. In part because I did not want to come down from my high. But also people, we were running late for school!

Coming to Portugal meant that our children could learn Portuguese. It was also important to me that they be exposed to Portuguese culture. I have been blessed by the beautiful people I have met every placed we have lived. I really have. Yet, I knew that the culture and the village lifestyle would be something wonderful to expose my children to. We also desperately wanted for my father to come stay with us. For one, we wanted to see him. Simple as that. But frankly, there is another reason. We also believed Portugal would be good for my father.

Living alone in the United States, it is very easy for someone to isolate themselves. To get anywhere, at least where we are from, you hop in your car. Here you can’t go get your mail without seeing at least one neighbor, sometimes two. There are no secrets in a village to be sure, but there is aways company.

My father was supposed to come ‘visit’ us six months ago. Unfortunately due to a medical issue he had to cancel his flight the day before he was due to leave. This Friday, he finally made it.

On our drive to our apartment in Lisboa, he reminisced about driving through that area over 45 years ago and how much it’s changed. I was amazed at how much that man can remember. After a good nap we went to pick the children up from school. Nuno ran to his vôvô. My son loves his grandfather and has a very special place in his heart for the man.

The ride home was lovely. My father and I chatted the entire way and he seemed happy that the kids were handling some Portuguese. Pretty darn happy.

I will be honest, this past week has been pretty stressful. We had a lot on and we were two days away from a big party for Nuno’s birthday. A party with maybe too many kids that I would have to entertain for a few hours. Can you see where my head was?

Well, upon driving into my village we passed my cousin. He and I had ‘pumpkin business’ to attend to that very night. We stopped on the road and had quick hellos, driving off as a car approached. It was a quick stop, but nonetheless sweet to unexpectedly spot a family member we adore on our drive in. With a car full of stuff and a son needing to go for a wee, we opted to drive straight to the house then go to my godmother’s (my dad’s sister) house after. But to my great surprise we passed her walking back from our house. I quickly pulled into the salão parking lot and my dad and I hopped out. We were also quickly joined by Sr. Antonio, my cousin’s partner. This man is a gem. I will be honest. At first my dad seemed stiff, almost shy, but after a few minutes he was beaming. I tell you, right there I knew that his all nighter to prepare and pack for this trip and his near heart attack as he ran to catch a flight  connecting in Madrid was worth it. That smile on his face was gift not only to him, but to me. Obrigada Madrinha for lighting up my dad’s smile. Muitos Beijos!

So while we are down in Lisboa my cats are treated to homemade soups every day. So it should come as no surprise that after dropping my darling husband back up at the house so that he could get things ready  for Nuno’s birthday Halloween party, that he too got a delivery of fresh homemade fish soup. Both he and I realize that those cats eat better than we do mid week.

Obrigada Ti Evangelina…

Okay, today, at this moment in his life I do not think Nuno will mind this picture being there for the world to see. But one day, he might be too cool. And he might question my motives for posting a picture of him having fallen asleep reading a book about Halloween. But to me, his mother, this captures so much of what I love about him. 1) He, just like every other child is just so damn cute when he’s asleep. 2) He fell asleep reading! Do I need to say more? I mean really isn’t there a moment where you move the book aside? Nope, reading ’til he passes out. Now, that’s hard core. 3) He loves Halloween as much as his mommy. A little gift this child gives me every year, so far at least, is asking that we celebrate his birthday as a  Halloween theme. This year we are celebrating on the day. Two birds, one stone, thank you Nuno.

Halloween does not exist as we know it in Portugal. But, we will do our part to make it fun for us and our friends. We just ordered the book he fell asleep reading, along with a few others to get us all in the mood. I specifically ordered the one on his head to share the ‘basics’ of what Halloween is with the kids’ classes. I am going in to read and talk about Halloween to his and Lana’s classes. I can not assume that the kids know anything about Halloween, so I am starting with the basics. You see, even last year there was some confusion. The kiwis had it in their mind that Halloween was only about scary costumes. So when I showed up at an adult’s Halloween party dresses as a New Jersey Housewife people thought I was mad. What? Really? People questioning MY understanding of Halloween?!?!? Not on my watch will I allow children to grow up with such mis-information. The kids in Lana and Nuno’s class are going to learn the true meaning of Halloween.

I have run for some time now. I love what running does to me. It can be difficult to drag myself out of bed some mornings. Especially now as the mornings are a little bit darker, but it is always worth it. I have been especially lucky in having beautiful spots to run. Sydney was just spectacular. Auckland was lovely. And now Portugal is a treat. There is something about the scenery here that is just good for the soul. Running is a gift I give myself. I love my kids and the time we get to spend together, but I also love the time I get to myself when I run. My music or podcast comes on and I am alone in my thoughts. Well, until friends or family drive by with a smile and a wave. I love that too. Here I will take you on the run I do most often. Enjoy.

To start I have to first leave my house. After three steps the smile appears. I’m off.

After running just a short way down the road I turn right. This allows me to extend my run just a bit.

Below is a picture of a  typical farm. Those couves (cabbages) for human consumption at first, but as they get older and tougher they are fed to pigs as well as chickens. The corn grown here is not the sweet corn variety, so it is fed to the pigs. It would probably be safe to say everyone here has some ‘horta’. That is a garden. People grow all sorts of vegetables as well as fruit  for their consumption, but many times also for their livestock. Feed is expensive and when you are raising a pig and the average/minimum monthly income here 500euros you need to concern yourself with how much it costs to feed your livestock. Growing ones own feed is a great option.

This stretch comes just after I start my first looonnggg hill. But that’s okay. It’s pretty. And if I’m hungry I suppose I could pick an apple. Well, actually you can’t. Living here you learn that the fruit is sprayed and you must always ask before you eat.

Here is a look down back towards our village. Pretty, isn’t it?

 This is a typical older house. I think it is charming on it’s own, but that purple plant adds something spectacular.

 I love this house. I have no idea who owns it. It is in my mother’s village and I must ask my dad when he arrives. Even though it is an older home it is quite obvious the care they take to make it as nice as they can. Out front their garden has a bamboo fence around it. They have not only some vegetables but some flowers growing as well. And the fresh paint. That costs of fortune here and yet there is a nice new coat on the house.

I’ll call this photo ‘Apples so red they pop my eyes open”. Yes, I was able to run by without picking one, but it wasn’t easy.

Back in my village…This run that takes me about 50 minutes has me going through 4 villages. So rounding that last corner let’s me know my workout is almost done and I have arrived because even though I am not yet at our house this village is my home.

If you come and visit me we can run this together:)