Good Luck Lemons

This is what bad luck looks like, or, a really bad "case of the Mondays," if you've ever seen the movie Office Space:

On Monday our truck was broken into during lunch and Michael's backpack was stolen. This was especially frustrating because he almost *never* leaves his backpack in the truck, but did this one time. This automatically signifies a time sucker. Replacing a passport is no easy task, and we travel to Honduras in a few short weeks. Then there's dealing with work files on the laptop, and accounting for other small items in the bag that aren't replaceable. Notes, agenda, calendar, chargers for his watch and phone. Lame. Lame. Lame.

Today we got a call and our luck reversed. Apparently, Michael's passport was found tossed in front of the US Embassy. They tracked Michael down and he is going to go pick it up this afternoon. What?!?! I'm pretty sure this never happens. We are beyond thrilled.

Besides being super random and crazy and practically unheard of, this saves us time and stress. He had filed a police report that had to be authenticated at the Department of Justice before trying to get a new passport. It was going to be quite the process. We are feeling so thankful in the midst of a crummy situation.

And then I had other random luck today. In three years of being here in Guatemala, I've never seen lemons (I explain in this blog post). Today I found these:

Also, I've never seen fresh blueberries. Today I found these, right across from the lemons:

The arandanos (blueberries) were spendy (more than $4 for one of these containers), so I didn't buy any, but I did buy some lemons. I'm having a hard time deciding between making fresh lemonade, lemon scones, or some other yummy lemon dessert. I might make them all.

 Because when life hands you lemons, you grab a whole bunch and horde them until you can make something delicious. I think that's how the saying goes. 

 At the least, I'll make something to celebrate our good luck after a rough start to the week.

Second parenting tip of the day

Ellie came home from school sobbing.

Every week, the nina/o de la semana (kid of the week) usually sends home a sorpresa, a little bag of candies or treats or toys (like from a birthday party). The teacher sends home a count of the number of girls and boys in class for the parents the week before (because usually the sorpresas are gender-specific).

Ellie was the last girl to get picked up today, and there was one girl sorpresa missing. Except, the said nina de la semana was still at school for after-school cheerleading, and she didn't want to give Ellie the last bag. She wanted it for herself.

Ellie was distraught. Heartbroken. These weekly sorpresas are a huge highlight, and this was a Big Deal to her.

It could be that the girl's Mom counted wrong and there weren't enough. There was one left for a boy, but it was for someone who was absent. And Ellie didn't dream of taking the boy one. It could be that her Mom wasn't counting her own daughter in the count, but either way, the girl insisted that she get one, at the expense of Ellie.

Hard life lessons. Lately Ellie has been learning phrases like "hurt feelings" and "selfish" and "not kind," and they definitely helped her express herself today, though most likely it was all just an accident. It's hard to know there was a bag available, just not for Ellie. A missed opportunity for kindness. Her teacher felt horrible, but there was no solving this one.

I sat and hugged her. I let her cry and express herself. I told her how hard it is to be hurt, that it's OK to feel sad and upset and confused. I want her to be able to talk to me and tell me about things, no matter the topic, and it starts with these Little But Actually It's a Really Big Deal Things.

Fortunately, my girls are at the age that a bike ride to the corner store for some helado will heal a lot of wounds. Every few minutes I hear, "Mommy, I'm really sad about the sorpresa," but the sobbing has stopped.

My second parenting tip of the day: ice cream heals (in moderation, of course).

Not a gold-star kind of day

Yesterday was a rough day as a Mama. I'm parenting it solo again for a few days and that always adds some stress. I found it especially ironic yesterday that I had a frustrating morning with my girls, especially with my oldest, because I was trying to hurry out the door so I could get to a Mother's Day breakfast at church.

I was NOT feeling like I deserved to be praised for my mothering skills, yet there I went.

The bedtime routine was not better. I was on edge and impatient and bath time often annoys me. Some parents talk about how much they love bedtime and the routine. I mostly dread the whining and fighting, though I can simultaneously relish and appreciate the bedtime snuggles and reading once we finally arrive to that part of the evening. You know, those last 15 minutes of the day.

Some days, some moments deserve a gold star for patience and good mothering. Yesterday was not one of them. I felt defeated. Deflated. I imagine many parents feel that way after a long day with the kiddos, despite our best intentions.

I can't help but wonder, if there feels to be more frustrated moments than good ones, am I causing permanent damage? Am i wrecking my kids in the way I handle mundane situations? What of my responses are creating new synapses in their brains?

Our kids pick up everything. Everything. When I get frustrated I make an obnoxious grunting noise. My girls now do that when they're frustrated. It's not a cute sound to hear, especially knowing it's a reflection of my own impatience.

I know what all the parenting advice says. Model good behavior. Model politeness. Model self-control and kindness. Knowing best practices and acting on them are not the same thing.

This morning I woke up determined. I woke up early, I showered before the baby woke up. I made a hot breakfast. I was determined to greet the girls with a positive attitude and an unrushed morning routine. And it worked. They got dressed without arguing. They were calm and happy and kind to each other. The morning went smoothly. A gold-star morning, I'd say. Today I deserve a Mother's Day breakfast.

So much about parenting is the small choices, the attitudes we choose. As Daniel Tiger says, "When you feel so mad you want to roar, take a breath and count to four." I need to practice modeling that for my kids. Such wise words from PBS Kids.

Also, I had Adele playing all morning. I think that may have been the real secret to our successful morning. My determination, and all four of us (yes, even my 1-year old belts it out) singing on the top of our lungs, "HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE..." as we got dressed, brushed our teeth, did the Morning Things. A helpful parenting tip. We've got to share those when we have nuggets of success. You're welcome.

I Have To Kill The Bugs

When Daddy goes out of town, it goes like this:

I have to kill The Bugs.

Last night the nasty huge ants seemed to have extra incentive to be out. Usually they hang out on walls and counters, but for some reason they were all over the floor. And they are fast. And I was barefoot. The trick is, you gotta have something really heavy. No flimsy flip-flop will suffice. Even when Michael is gone, his big, heavy, size-12 loafers come in handy.

The little suckers had no chance.

Getting ready for bed, I bent over to reach something in the cupboard in the bathroom under the sink. I glanced up. Literally, and I actually, really, truly mean LITERALLY, in the literal-sense of the word, less than two inches from my face was a big ol' juicy cockroach staring at me on the edge of the cupboard.

Michael's loafer saw a lot of action last night.

The smacked cucaracha fell off the cupboard into a plastic bin. I tried to tip the thing into the toilet, but he was stuck in the crack of the broken plastic. The loafer, for the win, banged that thing out of the crack and tipped it into the bowl.

I woke up this morning at 5am, thanks to The Return Of The Curse Of Eve. The squawking bird didn't want me to fall back asleep. I laid there, convincing myself that laying in bed, trying to sleep, was better than just getting up, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Mommy. I had to pee. And now my bed is kinda' wet. And my pajamas."

So I was up.

After getting said wet child cleaned and happy, stripping the sheets off the bed only to discover I totally forgot to put the waterproof pad underneath the sheets after the last time (months ago), the mattress is hanging outside to air out.

The same child decided she needed to get books and hang out on the pot, and I told her I'd be upstairs feeding Ruby, who was awake before 6.

Two minutes into nursing I heard crying and screaming from downstairs. I debated finishing nursing, though a quick calculation meant I could be several minutes, and I probably shouldn't leave my 3-year old downstairs screaming for several more minutes.

I detached my baby, who protested loudly and adamantly with tears and screams and arching of the back. Holding the screaming one, I ran quickly past the bedroom of the last child still sleeping, hoping not to wake her. Hazel was standing in the dining room, undies around her ankles.

"Mommy....(sob)....There was a....(sob)....a big cock-a roach."

(Baby is still protesting her feeding-cut-short with screams and cries.)

I walk in the bathroom, and aha! another nasty ant. They're not nearly as big as a cock-a-roach, but if I'm being honesty, they're still really gross. To my daughter, all those creepy, crawly things are all cock-a-roaches. And this one had like a weird big double-sized head.

"The head on that cock-a-roach is like my shark toy in the bath tub." Yup. Minus the razor teeth.

Ant gone, child happy again, baby back to the morning nursing.

Only a few more days until Daddy is home. At least he left me his loafer.

My Girls Are Rockstars

We started off our weekend walking to a school nearby for a fundraising carnival. 

We were these people, which wouldn't get much thought in the US, but here in Guate, it's not every day a caravan of strollers walks by.

2 strollers, including a double. They practically don't exist here.

The girls had fun playing...

and of course...

...are like rockstars to high school Guatemalan girls.

Selfie with the little gringas/canchitas (white people from US/light skinned people)!

There was fun sister time to be had.

And a Family Photo Booth for the WIN!

Christmas cards 2016?

Sisters are for licking chocolate off fingers.

In the afternoon we went to a story time at a mall with one of Ellie's friends.

Ellie won a 200Q gift certificate, which is like $25, to a kids store. It was a very difficult decision, but she finally chose a game she could play with her sister plus coloring pages to share.

They've been occupied with these for hours today. #awesomedayforMomandDad

And lastly, today marked another closure for us.

See this truck full of baby stuff? We said goodbye to the baby carseat that brought home all three girls from the hospital, Ruby's Bumbo and bouncer, and Ellie's first bicicycle on which she learned to ride a bike. Big, deep Mama breath out, releasing more of All Things Baby.

WHAM!

It's been a doozy. April has been a doozy. I'm ready for May to take over.

The whole family got food poisoning. Thankfully, the girls all seemed to get over it pretty quickly, but it's been lingering for Michael and I. For days. Weeks, actually. Which of course makes me think at this point that it's not food poisoning anymore. We'll feel fine for a day or two, and then WHAM! it hits again. I might have to go get checked for amoebas. That sounds like a fun way to spend my time.

And then we've been sorting through work issues, including some unexpected staff changes. That's been difficult. We make a lot of little decisions throughout our workday, but there are also big responsibilities we have to a team, to our partners, to the workers and the people who are affected by our decisions, both big and small. We grow close to team members, knowing they are on contracts that can and will send them packing long before us. A lot of goodbyes happen living in this context.

On top of all that, we/I have been second-guessing our decision to put Ruby at the school with the girls. After several conversations and back-and-forths, we've decided to pull her back out of the school. The truth is she has accustomed herself well. She doesn't cry when I drop her off, and even waves good-bye. In fact, she's doing really well, from what they tell me. But, at the end of the day, I don't want to lose out on this time of life. Hazel was so little (9 months old) when we got here and it was so difficult to have her in daycare. I don't regret that decision, but now we are in a different place, and what's best for us as a family includes me getting to spend more time with Ruby.

A fun outing with some friends, just me and Ruby.
Photo Credit: Luke Penner

So I'm looking forward to focusing on my girls and soaking up time with my precious Littlest One.

She patted the spot next to her so I would sit beside her. 

She is growing and changing literally in front of my eyes. She's independent and sweet and so loving. And I'm beyond blessed that I will get to keep spending precious moments with her. I only have to look at my other two girls to remind myself just how incredibly fast these first few years fly by.

Thanks to my friend Luke for these fun photos:

What a beauty!

Another Anniversary, and Hazel's Turn

April 20th marks three years ago today that we did this:

Last week Hazel was the niña de la semana. On Thursday night our whole household got hit hard with what we think was food poisoning. At one point in the night we had a crying baby, I was changing vomit-covered sheets, and I had to run to the bathroom and throw up myself. We had to cancel our Friday morning snack to Hazel's class since we were all sick at home.

Over the weekend we all started feeling better, and then yesterday morning Michael and I got hit pretty hard with another round of a bug of some kind. Last night we were literally laying on the floor, unable to move, our kids climbing on us and around us, as we counted down the minutes until it wouldn't seem too early to put the girls to bed.

Fortunately, we woke up this morning feeling okay, enough to make pancakes and take them to Hazel's class.

Ruby loved visiting Hazel's class

We love you, Hazel Jane!