Perspective

Yesterday was a long day. It was cold and rainy and frustratingly unproductive. We were late for school, we were whiny and throwing tantrums, we did not want to eat, nap, or get dressed, we were just generally cranky. Some days are like that, gray. And yesterday was such a one dreary and long and just exceedingly gray.

Kenny has this goal, an admirable one I think, of seeing all of Shakespeare's plays performed live. The Folger Shakespeare Library is currently performing the very seldom seen Henry VIII. The rareness of this play and the fact that we found half-price tickets was too much to pass up. I like Shakespeare too, but seeing all 38 plays live is not a goal I feel compelled to achieve. And, I will do just about anything not to have to arrange for a mid-week babysitter. So Kenny went off on his own and I stayed behind to do the bedtime routine solo.

I was determined to end our dreary day on a high note, and things were going well. We'd bathed, read stories, sung songs and turned out the lights. I finished my own dinner in peace and was settling into a television show TIVO was graciously saving for me. And then, the final nail in the coffin. The boys were fighting sleep and winning. I got up to go "gently" encourage they throw in the towel and in my haste, knocked over my water glass right onto my not quite 6-month old MacBook Pro. It is dead, as in doornail.

Shocked and very aware that I couldn't save it, I went down the hall to finish my original errand. Walking into the room I was confronted with two very tired little boys who refused to accept the glaringly obvious remedy for their conditions. And suddenly, this long and now terrible day became too much. And to make matters worse, here they were awake and not even close to letting it end. I couldn't handle the tension anymore and burst into tears. I thought about the pictures we would probably never recover, the weeks of class notes I've recorded this semester that were gone forever, bookmarks for my 25 page research paper I cannot duplicate and I cried. I begged them to go to sleep and let me think, to let me come to terms with this loss, to let me figure out how to break the news to my blissfully absent husband.

But, instead...they started to cry. Pitiful, heart-wrenching sobs.

I was horrified.

How could I have done this to them? I'd scared and upset them over what? A computer and some lost photos? I'm the Mom, I'm supposed to keep this from happening, not cause it. I knelt down on the floor in their room and drew their shaking bodies in close. I wrapped my arms around them and hugged them tight. We cried together for a few minutes, them out of fear and me from shame. In the most soothing voice I could muster I promised them everything was okay. I kissed their damp cheeks and tired heads and tucked them back into their beds. As I drew the covers up to his chin, Isaac looked at me and through a final sob said, "Lie down with me, Mommy." So I did. He nestled in next to me, as close as humanly possible and very soon he was relaxed and sound asleep. And finally that exhausting day ended.

As I lay there feeling, more than hearing him breathe, I thought about the damage I had done. As delicate and vulnerable as my computer is, what of these two tiny hearts? A technician will take apart my MacBook, look for glimmers of life and try to recover something. But, for my children, it is not that simple. Their hearts are soft and growing and the things recorded within are permanent. I am the guardian of those hearts. And last night, I lost sight of that. I will miss those pictures from the important moments in their lives, sure. But, how much more devastated would I be to miss their trust, love and belief that I can make it all better?

The sun is out today and I know everything will be fine, no matter what the verdict on the computer is. I know it will be fine because the Macbook is just a thing, and things are replaceable. I know it will be fine because we have an external hard drive and most of what was on the laptop is saved there. But, mostly, I know it will be fine because as we crossed the street this morning I squeezed two little hands and those hands squeezed mine back.

Peer Pressure

Did you?

For the first time in decades, today's vote could make an actual difference in the outcome in your local and state elections. For this reason and because living in a democracy means we have the right to participate in who governs us, VOTE!

A Message from Two Little Pumpkins

We wish you all an aerodynamic, high-flying,

courtly, chivalrous and very...

Happy Halloween!

Just like riding a bicycle

I'm a law school drop-out. It's true. I went to law school, a million years ago now, finished my first year even. But, the first day of my second year I was sitting in Corporations (the study of how companies form, grow and eventually take over the world, within in the confines of the law, that is) and I thought, "this isn't it." You know what I mean when I say "it," right? That thing we're all looking for, that we're confident exists, that we assume is just beyond the horizon. I didn't know then what "it" was for me, but I KNEW, without an iota of doubt, that it wasn't law school and it certainly wasn't growing up to be a lawyer. So, I left that class, went to the Dean's office, packed my life in my little blue Toyota and drove away.

That a was a watershed moment in my life. For a decade before that moment I had planned to go to law school and become a lawyer, and suddenly, there was no plan. And, I'm a planner. I'm not a hyper, can't adapt or deal with change type of planner, but I like to have a general idea of where things stand and what's next. And at that juncture in my life, I didn't. I was confident of two things as St. Louis disappeared behind me. 1) I had made a difficult decision, but it was the right one. And, 2) Although I didn't know what the near future would bring, I knew someday I would go back to graduate school.

That someday is today. Today, and for the last seven weeks, I am a graduate student. With a little, okay a lot, of encouragement from my husband and ridiculous amounts of help from parents, siblings, friends and former professors I jumped through all the hurdles of applying and was, miraculously I think, accepted into a graduate program. I'm studying democracy and governance, which is a new field for me. I've devoted my entire academic and adult life to the study and practice of American government, but I thought trying something new would be interesting and challenging. It's both and I love it. Never mind the fact that I am more than 10 years older than almost everyone in my program, and all the other programs too, for that matter. Or that I have kids and a husband and a mortgage, not exactly the description of your average grad student. Forget the fact that when I'm not on campus I play tickle monster and make cookies and finger paint. I'm a bonafide grad student.

It's hard, being a mom and going back to school after so long. But, here's the thing about me, I adore school, always have. I thrive in the classroom. I crave the orderliness of assignments and tests and finals. Maybe that is the result of being raised by teachers and knowing they spent their days teaching not just us, but other people's kids too? In my experience, school is easy, compared to life. Life is messy and complicated even if far more rewarding. But, as much as I enjoy the predictability of being a student, I love the perspective that time away from school, actually living my life has given me. I don't care about the grades, not really. I just want to learn the material, enjoy the experience and come out of this feeling like it was worth the sacrifices my little family is making.

I took a midterm last night, my first midterm in 13 years. I was nervous, panicked even. I studied, of course. Not as much as the non-Mom student of my former life would have, but I was prepared. It didn't matter though. I read "midterm" on the syllabus the first day of class and the panic set in. Despite my very managed expectations (a B- is passing), I could not suppress the dread I felt about getting back on the bicycle of formal education. What if I froze? What if I've forgotten how to be a student? What if I crash and burn? Gasp! Horror! And then, inevitably, there I was, blue book in one hand, exam questions in the other. One deep breath, read the questions, pick up the pen and pedal. I did not pop a wheelie or catch air, but I also didn't biff it. It was, well, just like riding a bike.

We Love Washington, DC, #3

I visited the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial for the first time shortly after it opened in 1997. Of the major monuments to Presidents of the United States in Washington, DC, it is my favorite. The memorial is divided into 4 sections, each corresponding to a different term of office in FDR's presidency. Each section has a water feature of some sort used by the memorial's designer to depict important moments in each term and the increasing turmoil of the country at that time. During the nearly 12 years that FDR was president, the United States experienced some of the most dramatic changes this country has ever seen, those too are represented in the sculptures built alongside the water. I have always loved this monument for it's accessibility. Caleb and Isaac were entranced by the water and wanted nothing more than to throw barrels of coins in the pools and follow them in head first. There are signs everywhere stating that coins damage fountains, so we fought the urge to toss some in, but the boys did get a little wet, despite our best efforts.

dangerously close to the falls

Posing with Eleanor...

...Fala...

...and the unemployment line.

a rare family group shot
thank you random stranger for offering to capture us en masse

We love Washington, DC, #2

A wonderful benefit to coming back to DC in between overseas posts is that so many dear friends are still here and we can virtually slip right back into the lives we left behind. The only real indicator that things have changed is that now most everyone has kids and mortgages. Happily, our boys are quickly becoming fast friends with our friends' kids.

The little girl in these pictures is our new friend Nancy. She is the same age as Isaac and his instant pal. Nancy has a seemingly never-ending supply of great toys and a huge backyard where she can entertain her guests. Her house has 2 cats, yummy snacks and an adorable baby sister, all things that make her uber-cool when one is in the 4 feet and under club. For all these reasons and many more, we were delighted to finally become acquainted with Nancy. She is also far better at cooperating for pictures than her new companions.

We love Washington, DC, #1

When we learned our next disembarking point on the foreign service world tour would be Washington, DC, we promised ourselves we would make the most of our 2 years there/here. We, the adults in our family unit, love DC. It is where we met and fell in love and became a couple and then a family. It runneth over with favorite memories, people and foods. It is full of life and culture and history and excitement. It is a couple of political junkies idea of Mecca. And, perhaps most importantly in our increasingly homeless existence, it is where we feel most at home.

There is so much to do and see and experience and we are determined to soak it all in...or as much as we can. My schedule as a newly minted graduate student is mostly unforgiving, but thank goodness we are doing this parenting thing as a team. Kenny and the boys are using every minute of his spare time to embrace all that DC offers, and when I'm really lucky, I get to tag along too.

First stop: The National Air and Space Museum Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center. The boys and I had been there once before, 2 years ago. But, they were too young to really absorb any of it's vast collection and size. And, if you imagine you are 4 years old and you think that airplanes and aircraft are just about the neatest (because at 4 you are still using words like "neat") things in the universe, you would realize it is impossible to over-visit this museum. They loved it, of course. They squealed with delight and used completely the opposite of museum voices. They jumped and laughed and danced and surrendered to utter merriment. They ran around like crazies. They ran so much they barely stopped long enough to capture the joy of this outing.




Cool huh? Next stop...The Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial.

Ode to Freecycle.org

Raise your hand if you LOVE hosting (not perusing) garage sales.

Hm, almost no hands.

Okay, raise your hands if you LOVE loading up your car and driving to your nearest thrift store, only to be told they can't take some or all of what you're offering.

Ah, fewer hands.

Finally, raise your hand if you LOVE having odd clutter around your house that you just can't think what to do with, but know it would be criminal to throw away.

Not surprisingly, no hands.

If you're like me, and didn't raise your hand once, and you live in a reasonably large community (this is sort of key to what's coming, so if your town is smallish, stop reading now), I am about to share with you a fabulous find.

http://www.freecycle.org

What is freecycle.org, you ask? It is something like Craigslist, but free and so much more satisfying to use. It's a huge online garage sale, but again, EVERYTHING IS FREE! People send out emails announcing what they have, when and where it's available, and all you have to do it claim their stuff. Really, that's it. And, there is some pretty cool stuff out there. People are lazy and this is a great way to embrace your laziness and still purge, who doesn't want to get in on that? And, you can even request stuff. For example, let's say you're like "someone" I...ahem..."know" and you're looking for a desk. You send an email to your freecycle peeps and voila! Within hours, sometimes minutes you will find yourself in possession of a perfectly serviceable, sometimes fabulous, but always FREE desk.

I know what you're thinking now, how can you too join in the fun? SO EASY! Click on the above link, type in your community, send an email and wait for confirmation of membership in your local freecycling universe. Once confirmation magically pops into your inbox...WHOA NELLY! The free stuff will be flying and you will find yourself thinking, "maybe I do need various pieces of balsa wood" or "we've been looking for a economical jogging stroller for ages, can't do much better than free." It is incredible the stuff that is available and even more incredible what people want. Just in the last 24 hours we have unloaded a floor lamp with no shade (broke in storage), a single 25 lb. barbell, and 2 boxes of law books from 2003. Our trash, now their treasures, and all we did was send an email. Think of the possibilities!!

One final thought, I am still a big advocate of donating to charity and with this post am in no way suggesting that charities should not be your first stop for the more typical donation items. But, we've tried and failed to give stuff to our local charities more than once in the last month and this website has been a very painless solution to a more than mildly frustrating problem. Especially the law books, NO ONE wanted hardcover, slightly out of date text books and the thought of putting them in a land fill just made me ill. But, they have now gone to a happy home and freecycle gets all the credit. Try it...you'll see.

Sick, again.

I know they don't look sick, but they are. Especially Isaac. For weeks now he has had all manner of yuckiness flowing out of every orifice imaginable. It's gross, he's gross. I feel terrible saying that about my own child, or I should feel terrible, shouldn't I? But, really, it is...GROSS.

We went to the doctor today, for Isaac anyway, Caleb's really not sick enough to warrant a doctor visit. That's my mother's influence coming out right there. If it's not bleeding (too much) or falling off, if you're still ambulatory and talking, you really don't need a doctor, right? That approach worked for me and my siblings just fine so, why not?

It was our first time at this Pediatrician's office, and it was GREAT. 20 doctors in one practice, what? We didn't even have time to fill out the forms before being whisked away to an exam room. It took longer to park, than to see a doctor -- a lot longer. To be fair, I could have paid $17 for the parking garage and we would have dispensed with that part of our morning in mere minutes, but I was too, um, frugal to do that, so we circled the block once or twice.

We got a flu shot and H1N1 too. So, apart from the fact that Isaac has been treated for this same ailment more times than I would like to think about, he is now totally inoculated against the winter nasties. Okay, so I'm not that naive, but with any luck he'll at least avoid the flu.

The hardest part of this whole ordeal, and by the time we were done it could only be described as an ordeal, was getting the prescription filled. Come on CVS, 1.5 hours for ear drops and antibiotics?!?!?! By the time we were done Isaac was sobbing from exhaustion. The problem with having miracle sleepers (and I do recognize that they are miraculous in this), is that when the sleep gong strikes, they must obey or meltdown stage is inevitable. Poor guy, he fought it, but he wasn't strong enough and eventually was forced to throw himself down on the floor at CVS and fall apart. Luckily, there were all sorts of people paying attention to his tantrum so I was able to ignore it and finish my transaction. It's always nice when strangers lend a hand like that.

It's on Halloween

Only October 2nd and we've already got our Halloween game faces on. The boys have tried on their costumes and picked out their treat bags. We've put pumpkin carving, cookie decorating and, of course, trick-or-treating on the calendar. We're ready for you American style Halloween. Bring it!

Short and Sweet

We have beds!

We have joy!

Goodnight.

I'm over it

Remember when you were a kid and in an effort to get you to clean up after yourself your Mom would say some variation of, "the maid is off today," or "what do I look like, the maid?" It was at these moments when I would dream of living in a hotel and having someone to pick up the wet towels, make the bed, wash the dishes and just generally turn my not always orderly life into something more manageable. In my head, this situation was always blissful, desirable and the only trajectory worth pursuing, but my head was wrong, oh, so, very wrong. We've been doing just that for almost a month now, living in a hotel. And, while the housekeeping aspect is great, or maybe it's merely fine, living in temporary quarters is not.

We are tired, from late nights and early mornings due to DC traffic patterns. We are cranky from sleeping on past their prime mattresses and deflated pillows. We are sluggish from too many prepared, carbo-loaded meals and not enough fresh fruits and vegetables. We are bored with the same selection or books and toys. All of this is made worse by the fact that we are actually already partially, even mostly, moved into our new house, all we lack are the beds. They haven't arrived. We've been waiting for weeks for two beds. Nothing fancy mind you, just run of the mill, keep you from sleeping on the ground, beds. We have other things of course. A beautiful new stand mixer, plush towels, wonderfully comfortable couches, area rugs, garbage cans, even a re-purposed desk donated by a former grad student to a current one. In short, all the comforts of home. Except, not. I've never stopped to think about this really, but no beds means no real living. Even mattresses on the floor are enough to call a place home, but without them, a home is just some walls and a sink or two. Our house desperately wants to be a home and I want that for it and us too.

I feel for the DC commuters, but I'm ready to be done sharing in their misery every morning as we make the pilgrimage from Northern VA to Downtown DC. I want to break out all the cute new bedding we have for Isaac's big boy bed -- I know he's going to be as excited as I am about the stars and spaceships and rocket ships he gets to curl up with every night. I want to finish putting odds and ends away and am having difficulty conceptionalizing our living space with no beds. The lesson here is next time, bring the beds with you, or order the beds in advance or buy them in person or beg, borrow or steal, okay don't steal, them before you do anything else.

One more week. The beds will be here next week and the hotel living will be over. We still have stuff coming from Caracas, but those are the non-essential items and we can live without them. Good thing, because as of today our shipment has still not been inspected and therefore not cleared from departure from Venezuela. But, no matter, from next week our new closets will be full of clothes and our suitcases will go on a much deserved vacation. All the random things we have lying around will find permanent dwelling places. We'll be able to start re-paying all the favors we've racked up over the last month from so many dear friends. And, most importantly, we'll all be getting a very good night's sleep.

School Days

Caleb started preschool today, for the THIRD, and, thankfully, last time. His new school is a much-sought after and I'll admit, fervently prayed for, situation. It is an English/Spanish bilingual public charter school in Washington, DC. The instruction is done in both languages each day and will give Caleb a much better chance of maintaining and utilizing both languages with equal facility. We applied for this school's lottery nearly 6 months ago and were doing the dance of joy when his name was selected for one of 11 slots. There were nearly 100 children placed on the waiting list for those few spaces and we clung to his/ours desperately for months hoping nothing would go awry and that when he showed up today, he'd be expected. He was. HUZZAH!

Applying to preschool in the District of Columbia was more complicated than applying to graduate school -- I do NOT exaggerate. Even now, we have not been able to fully demonstrate our DC residency and are scheduled for a home visit from the Director to prove we are who we are, and more importantly, that we live at the address we claim as our abode. No suburbanites for these folks. If you want the benefit of the most education $$$ spent per child anywhere in the US of A, you must also prove you live in the wholly unrepresented boundaries of the District. We are home owners here, but that is insufficient. We have (or will have tomorrow) DC driver's licenses, again, not enough. Our pay-stubs show DC's exorbitant income taxes are being deducted monthly, but the address on the pay-stub and our home address don't match, so, no dice. Like I said, complicated. It's no wonder I never changed my maiden name to the married one simply to avoid one more exchange with any branch of the DC government. True story.

Caleb was in school for almost 8 hours today -- which seems stunningly long, no? But, he came home bubbling over with stories about his teachers and new friends, lunch and breakfast fare (both are provided for a small fee) and his favorite thing about the school, the day and likely the entire year, the rooftop playground. 6 stories up swinging, sliding, jumping, running, monkey barring and staring at neighboring rooftops is a 4 year-old boy's never even dreamt of dream come true. And the best part for me is, he couldn't wait to tell Isaac all about it. I can just imagine the day when he'll get to take Isaac to the playground in person...moments like that are what make parenthood pretty darn spectacular.

We ended our day with a Family Home Evening trip to the Washington, DC, LDS temple. We've been telling Caleb there was a temple in DC for months and since the moment we touched down last week he's asked over and over and over again "where's the temple?" If it seems big in the picture, that is because it is. It is the third largest temple and the tallest, at 288 feet. It is visible from far and wide, so much so that traffic reporters use it as a landmark when reporting the road conditions on the DC Beltway. It is a beautiful building any time of year and the grounds are always gorgeous, but at Christmas it is aglow with millions of lights. I am already looking forward to taking Isaac and Caleb to see that. If you can, you should see it for yourself. But, at the very least, come back here, I'll be posting pictures.

End of Summer Round-Up

We've been busy this summer. Too busy to blog certainly, somedays, too busy even to think. But, we have arrived at our final destination, for awhile anyway and at the end of summer too. It's been a good one, this last season, but the next chapter of our real life is beckoning us to follow and we're anxious, if a little trepidatious, to acquiesce.

For me, summer has always felt like a hiatus from my "real life" story. A departure from the day to day expectations I normally find so comforting. The hot and sultry days instead representing a series of vignettes that don't quite fit the pattern of my routine, the one filled with milestones and goals, achieved or discarded. Summer is the place where dreams are realized or made or replaced with new and better versions of themselves. Where to-do lists are set aside and waistline forgotten. Where children wake-up and go to bed sticky from delicious seasonal fruits, popsicles and ice cream cones, even with regular bathing. Where every day dawns with the promise of fun and possibility. I have always felt this way, but even more so now. Summer has become my/our in between time, usually bookended by major relocations and job, school, language, friend, and everything else changes. This summer fits that mold beautifully, maybe even exemplarily. And, while I've enjoyed the mostly highs of the season, I am and we are, exhausted. Our steam meters were running dangerously low earlier this week before our FINALLY final flights. Even first class seats didn't assuage the lack of enthusiasm shared by all. But, there are no more trips by car, plane, or train on the horizon and knowing that brings indescribable peace.

I know this is the calm before the storm, but I'm ready for what's coming. We've been planning for the next phase of the real life stuff for ages, the anticipation alone has become palpable. Monday morning it begins again -- but, before that, here's a look at the pages we've added to our summer diary this time around. We wrote every entry with gusto and no regrets.

Goodbye Caracas, hello Washington, DC
1 new house
2 new cars (Americans are 2-car families right? We just want to fit in)
1 Back to school night (our first of many)
1 Grad school orientation
4 weeks of visits to grandparents
2 Dinosaur museums
3 firepit BBQs
11 hours in the car for a road-trip to Santa Fe, NM
30,000 frequent flyer miles
1 lost bag
1 found bag
8 suitcases
5 carry-ons
4 passports
6 flights (x 4 people)
1 new cousin
1 funeral
1 surgery
0 trips to the ER!!!
98 moving boxes by boat
17 moving boxes by air
1 never-ending garage sale
Countless hours playing with cousins
4 Grandparents
2 Great-grandparents
7 Aunts
2 Uncles
2 Godparents
47 Different State license plates (only TN, RI, and WV eluded us)
2 carousels
3 trains
100s of ducks and pieces of bread
Mounds of ice cream
Visits to: the Royal Gorge, Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, NM, Bishop's Castle, Payson Lakes, and Kangaroo Zoo

And...too much fun to quantify or ever forget

At the bottom of the Royal Gorge

Isaac posing at Bishop's Castle
(go here and here to learn more)

Caleb feeding one of the many giraffes at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo

Caleb learned valuable skills this summer like building fires and making s'mores

Isaac riding another in a seemingly endless succession of carousels

Saying Goodbye

My grandmother died today, she was 93 and she lived a good life. We called her Gebby, one of my cousins trying to say Grandma managed to say Gebby instead, it stuck. Her life wasn't always easy, but I think she preferred it that way. She lived through and remembered well the Great Depression, World War II and the Kennedy assassination. She was thrifty, talented and insatiably curious about everything and everyone. She was surrounded by her children when she passed into the next life and she will be celebrated next week by her many surviving progeny...all 4 generations of them. Sometimes it is hard to live far away, but it is especially hard at moments like these. We won't make it back to the funeral, and that saddens me. But, I will be there in spirit thinking of this woman who touched my life in so many ways. I am sorry my children won't know her, but grateful that she had a chance to meet them. The last time I saw her was almost exactly 2 years ago. We made a long, hot drive from Utah to Arizona so she could meet Isaac. I will always be grateful we were able to do that.

Me, Isaac, my Dad and Gebby

My parents have always believed that family is important and we spent a lot of time with our Gebby when I was a child, even when our daily lives were separated by an ocean. She was extremely well-read, had a memory like a steel trap, and an endless array of songs, fingerplays and dramatic pieces at her fingertips. She was born in February and made purple her signature color. Everything in Gebby's world was purple, from her socks to her toothbrush to her dishes. It was borderline excessive, this obsession she had with all things violet, but it was part of her charm and certainly made her unforgettable. If heaven is anything like I think it will be, then Gebby has just taken up residence in a lavender-hued kingdom where she'll be waiting for us all to join her. And, if I know Gebby, she'll won't be waiting patiently or quietly. I'll miss her, but I've got my memories to keep me company until we meet again.

This is Gebby singing "Little Dog Jack" to Isaac when they were introduced in the summer of 2008. It is a song my great-grandmother dreamed up and sang to Gebby when she was a child. All of Gebby's grandchildren and great-grandchildren and even most of the great-great-grandchildren know it well.

Borrowed furniture

With few exceptions, Foreign Service apartments come furnished. The US government buys these furnishings in bulk. They find a pattern they like and buy it all. 1000 dressers, 1500 highboys, 2000 couches and love seats with 5 different styles of chairs (captain, arm, easy, rocking etc.) in complimentary patterns to match. Every once in awhile someone will get lucky and arrive to their assigned post at the beginning of phasing in the newest generation of furniture, but usually every apartment interior looks the same. There are myriad upsides and downsides to living like this, but so far it has made things pretty easy for us. We've had the same pattern in both Caracas and Lima and we actually lucked out. Dark green is ideal for small people. When we left Lima, we weren't assessed any fees for property damage. We were diligent about keeping the furniture in good condition, but even still kids will be kids. We have been pretty successful this time around too. A few cushions have split seams, and the dining room chairs will need some scrubbing, but for the most part, I'm very proud of our ability to treat our borrowed furniture with care. Or, almost.

Isaac is a budding artist. Okay, so he's not a child prodigy or anything, but he does love to color. He has ample coloring books, scrap paper, and butcher paper at his disposal and he uses them liberally. But, sometimes, he forgets and colors floors, walls, doors, people, and whatever else happens to get in the way of his flowing creative juices. We say "only color on paper" a lot around here, but occasionally the non-paper surfaces are just too tempting. His latest aberration was in the form of a desk chair. Just an ordinary desk chair to some, but to me, with it's white canvas seat cover, an accident waiting to happen. And happen it did. Several times. I guess he just couldn't help himself, over and over and over again. So, on a recent stateside trip I bought some replacement fabric and thought that I could do the re-upholstering myself. Ha! Who was I kidding? I have neither tools nor skills. The chair is solidly constructed and there are lots of screws involved, and, most importantly, it doesn't belong to me and I'm trying to avoid having to pay to replace it. I put it on my list of things to get done, knowing it might not and then moved on to the next item.

Then a few days ago as I was driving on the same street we have driven on everyday for 2 years I saw it, my salvation. A hole in the wall upholstery store. I've passed this store a hundred times, and hundreds like it. Shops not much bigger than a large bedroom stuffed into whatever space they could find. Cobblers, luggage and leather repair stores, tailors, electronics and small appliance repair stores, ribbons and notions stores and on and on. They are everywhere. Usually without storefronts of any kind, places you have to know about to find. They are so much apart of the landscape that when I told Kenny about the place, he wasn't sure where I was talking about until I pointed it out to him this morning. On my way back though, I didn't pass by, I stopped. They quoted a price, $13. I made a deal and returned with the chair. Tomorrow it will be ready and good as new. Fascinating, no? So much for living a glamorous life abroad.

the chair

the damage -- not exactly Van Gogh

the street -- yes, from up close, most of Caracas looks like this

the hole in the wall

You know you're in South American when...

Not long ago, we took the boys to preschool on what seemed like a normal Friday morning and were surprised to find the place deserted. No children playing in the yard, no smiling teachers ready to greet arriving students, even the security guard was absent from his post. Our initial thought was that maybe there was a Venezuelan holiday we weren't aware of. After two years in Caracas we knew it was also possible Hugo Chavez had declared a holiday on a whim. But, we heard noises emanating from the building and went in to find the source. A quick look around around revealed the entire school crammed into an upstairs classroom, clad in their team colors of choice and glued to the television for game one of the World Cup. It didn't matter that no one present had obvious allegiances to South Africa or Mexico. This was the first match of the holy grail of sports, for most of the world anyway, and business as usual would have to wait.

I never played soccer as a child. It was an option, sure, but not a popular one. I'm sure part of that is that America is a few decades behind the soccer, or rather football, revolution, and part of that is a consequence of growing up in Hawaii. I can dance the hula, pound taro into poi, even husk a coconut if necessary, but I don't know the first thing about soccer. Or didn't. Soccer mania is rampant in Caracas right now and I'm sure in a hundred other countries too. Every other car on the road if flying their team flag. Embassy employees have all the televisions on and the volume turned WAY up. Shouts of GGGGOOOOOOOAAAAALLLLL and cheers are echoing through the halls day in and day out. And I find myself checking scores and statistics and rooting for players I'd never heard of a month ago. The US is doing, I understand, surprisingly well and we are rooting for them in their next match against Ghana. I read an article (see what I mean about the fever?) that said the US has never won 2 back-to-back World Cup matches, I'm hoping this will be the year. Honestly, I don't care who wins, but the excitement is contagious and I'm enjoying the fun.

On their way to school last week. Fridays are now team color days.
Vaya Argentina y Messi!

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The list just grows and grows

I have been working on my "new" blog for ages and now that it is finally ready to roll, I am far too busy to give it the posting attention it deserves. We are up to our eyeballs in preparing for our move back to the US of A and it seems to be sucking up much more energy this time around than it did the last time. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of things still undone on my "to do" list and none of them is negotiable. The worst thing is that we don't have a solid departure date yet, I know when I am planning to be gone, but we have to get Uncle Sam on board with that plan too.

In addition to all the normal things on my already too long list, we have just added a new item, and a colossal one at that. Isaac and I are scheduled for a very unexpected and quick trip back to the US for some minor surgery, maybe. We have been to several doctors in Caracas, including a just this side of quack ENT, to ascertain the cause of Isaac's multiple eardrum perforations. The consensus is that he is walking around with an unhealthy amount of fluid in his ears and that if we don't intervene soon he could suffer permanent hearing damage or loss and/or delays in his speech development. Neither of those sound like a good option, so we are choosing tubes instead. We have one last visit to an ENT stateside to verify this diagnosis and then a minor outpatient procedure requiring general anesthetic, aack! This visit should only require a few days travel, but I know from experience any time you add customs and a two year-old to a trip of any length, all bets are off.

There are some other things of note going on in our lives, but those will have to wait to be shared until our all too frequently absent friend Spare Time comes to call.

the patient

If you reading this at http://ramblesandruminations.blogspot.com, please update your readers, links, bookmarks etc. and come visit at our new URL http://www.ramblesandruminations.com

New and Improved

Beginning June 15, Rambles and Ruminations will be published exclusively at www.ramblesandruminations.com, please update your readers, favorites and bookmarks so we don't lose each other in the transition.

Thanks to some help from a very creative soul, my blog has been given a much needed face-lift. Not everything is up and running yet, but I am in the final stages of preparing for some exciting, scary and altogether huge life changes and I wanted the blog to come along for the ride, I hope you will too.

On the horizon

Rambles and Ruminations is due for some changes (and, ahem, a post or two...). There is a major overhaul in the works, but it won't debut until we return from our next grand adventure. Tomorrow we're jetting off for a two-week respite from all things Venezuelan to here :

and here:

and a plethora of other places we've only ever dreamt of visiting. We are giddy with excitement.

See you when we get back!