Ancient African Feast

This week Ruth was studying Ancient Africa in her History class, and her project for today was to prepare an ancient african feast. She did a great job of getting everything ready and was able to really impress her grandparents upon their arrival. Plus, everything was really yummy. (Even Max enjoyed it)! Here are the menu and a few pics:

Menu:
Chicken With Figs
Papaya Stir-Fried Rice
Fried Plantains
Date and Banana Bars (we substituted raisins for the dates)
Date Chewies (we substituted prunes for the dates)

Max was here!

And here. And there. And everywhere. And, my Bible no longer starts "In the beginning." It's more like "In the middle somewhere." If I turn my back even for a second, the little Max Monster sets to work--emptying garbage cans, discovering unknown piles of grunge, taste-testing things that I don't even want to know what are, attempting to escape from the apartment, and, of course, ripping pages out of any and all books--with as much delight as one little baby can possibly muster. I think he thinks it's a game to see how many times a day I can pick him up and move him to another location. It's more than a full-time job, and, frankly, it's wearing me out! I'll be glad to have some extra eyes and hands for the next few weeks as Jeff's parents visit, followed immediately by my mom and grandmother. Maybe with that many people on the job, someone will actually remember to close the bathroom door before Max can get his hands all the way down into the "splash zone".

Making Space

We are preparing for the arrival of Jeff's parents on Thursday. They will be staying in our little apartment with us, so today my job was to make space. I rearranged furniture (which, if you know me at all, you know I was probably going to do anyway) and cleaned out closets, and I was amazed to find out how much space we actually have. We will certainly have a full house with 7 people in 600 square feet, but I don't think it will be uncomfortable. (And I hope our guests don't disagree). I sort of feel like I could design one of those tiny space rooms they have in IKEA stores--only the furniture I'm working with here is way, way less cool.

Weekend Fun

Public Service Announcement

The time changes here tonight. We are "Springing forward." For Texas, that puts us three hours ahead of you, meaning it's almost midnight here and time for bed.

Another Month of School

Here are some of the things Ruth has done in the last month of school:

• Wrote and "published" her own book about tropical birds.*
• Wrote a list of her own laws, following the example of Hammurabi.
• Started the vocabulary wall.
• Stomped her Dad several times in our "Vocabulary Throwdown Challenge."
• Made own address book with family addresses and phone numbers.
• Finished the first Spelling book, which she was scheduled to finish in December.
• Made a book about the seasons.
• Learned about money by setting up a store.
• Played "Grammargories."
• Finished the first math workbook, putting her on track to finish all of first grade Math in December.
• Learned place values to the hundred billions.
• Lots of other fun and interesting things that I don't remember ever doing in school.
  
  
  

*If you already read this post and are wondering where in the world that tropical bird book is, well, it's not online. Sorry. If you really want to read it, let me know, and I'll send you a copy.

Fresh Bread

When we first arrived in Brazil, we did what Americans do. We bought groceries in bulk in an effort to cut down on our trips to the store. That is NOT what Brazilians do. They buy things in small quantities and go to the store often. They buy fresh bread every morning (and sometimes in the afternoon, too). We scoffed at this practice when we first arrived. But now, well, now, things are different. We still buy some of our groceries in bulk, but not our bread. We know the difference between fresh bread and old bread. There is something truly amazing about eating the bread while it is still warm. Not only does it taste better, but there is the added benefit of the pleasing aroma filling the apartment. It's absolutely irresistable. We thought buying bread to last the week was a good idea, until we tasted the difference. Now we are hooked, and I dare say, even snobby about it. It's fresh bread or no bread for us, thank you very much.

Small wonder, then, that the Lord commanded the Israelites to gather the manna in the morning. Every morning. They couldn't live off the old stuff. It would go bad and even disappear. Imagine trying to live off the same loaf of bread for two weeks. For two months. For two years. For twenty years. The bread would become stale and moldy and eventually just turn into dust, with nothing left that even resembled the bread you started with. Sounds awful, right? And yet this is how so many Christians live their lives. "Well, I had an experience with the Lord 20 (or even 2) years ago...," they say. We can't live off these old blessings. We need the fresh bread every day. The Bible says, "Taste and see that the Lord is good..." (Psalm 34:8). Just a taste of the Lord leaves us wanting more. And the more we have, the more we want. Once we get a taste of His fresh revelation, we can't abide a stale walk with the Lord. This is a challenge for me. I have many excuses why the old bread is o.k. But the longer I go without a new experience with the Lord, the hungrier I get. And once I've had just a taste of the Lord's goodness, only that will do.

Lord, give me Your fresh bread from Heaven today. I can't live without it, and I don't even want to. I have tasted Your blessings, and they are good. I am thankful for all the ways You've blessed my life, but I don't want to try to live off old blessings. I need to hear Your voice today, and I need a new experience with You. Let my life be filled with the pleasing aroma of the bread that comes from You.

A Conversation Over Dinner

Ruth: This chicken was a girl because there are breasts.

Me: Well, actually, all the chickens we eat are girls. No one really eats roosters.

[Pause]

Ruth: What do they do with all the feathers? Do they make clothes out of them or something?

Jeff: I think sometimes they grind them up...

Ruth: And make chicken smoothies??!!

[General hilarity on the part of the parents]

Jeff: Well, I was going to say they make fertilizer, but chicken smoothies certainly sound interesting.

(Katie, maybe these tips will help you make better use of your farmyard fowl).

Nine Months Old Already

Vocabulary Wall

In the course of her schoolwork, Ruth comes across words, from time to time, that she doesn't know--as you would expect a first grader to do. Jeff and I didn't want her to just skip over these words so we tried to think of some way that would make her want to really learn the new words. We really didn't have to spend many brain cycles on it, though, because as soon as she found out that hanging them on the wall was an option, she was completely on board. So, when she comes across a word that she doesn't know, in any subject, she writes it down on a card. Then, we look up the definition together and write it on the other side of the card. Then, I write an example sentence, using the word. We drill these like flashcards. When Ruth can say the definition and use the word in a sentence of her own, she gets to hang it on the wall. (This serves a dual purpose--one utilitarian, one decorative--since our walls have been pretty blank up until now).

Ruth now has 35 words on the wall, including, but not limited to the following:

*Portend
*Haggard
*Hideous
*Infuriate
*Diurnal
*Zygodactyl
*Utilitarian
*Considerable
*Lament
*Folly
*Alas
*Considerable

Having the words up on the wall makes Ruth more aware of them and encourages Jeff and I to use those words more often in conversation. Ruth loves to catch one of us using one of "her" words, and she is thrilled to no end to see them in print again in other reading assignments. Just another way the Watts Academy is making learning fun.

Best Seat in the House

At what age do you forget?

Childhood is so carefree, so fanciful, so fun. And, I want to know at what age do we abandon the simple joys of life: the thrill of pushing the elevator button, the excitement of switching beds with your sibling for the night, the delight of receiving the paper towel roll when all the paper towels are gone, the hilarity of bopping your baby brother on the head with a diaper over and over as he belly laughs, etc.? And more importantly, why? Why the constant effort on behalf of adults (myself, first among these) to stifle what is so very clearly "the good life?" Kids get it. They know what life is all about. We would all do well to immitate them, embrace those simple joys and remember rather than forget.

Our weekend in pictures

Taking it on the chin

Nothing can make you cry like the sight of your own blood. And we had crying and blood in abundance tonight after church. Jeff and I lingered in the sanctuary after the service to talk to some friends, while Ruth and Weston went out into the courtyard to play with the other children, just like they always do. Apparently, Ruth was skipping--which is technically not "running," (but is still not on the "Gaits Allowed" list)--when she crossed paths with a boy running the opposite direction. And by "crossed paths," I really mean crossed faces/heads. The force was great enough to knock Ruth to the ground, where she then did a face plant on the tile or on the concrete. My mommy-ears picked up on my child crying and I came to see what the problem was. As I mentioned before, it was just all blood and crying--along with a few hysterical Brazilian women and a cacophony of unintelligable Portuguese. Fortunately, by the natural course of life, she had already lost her two bottom teeth (and hasn't yet fully gotten in her new ones) or the damage would have been worse. She did loosen up a third tooth and cut the gum a bit (thus the bleeding), and she will certainly have a bruised and sore chin/jaw. Overall, though, the dramatics stemmed almost exclusively from the sight of her own blood. Cleaning the spilled blood off her leg and shoe seemed to help more than the ice and Motrin. By the time she went to bed, she had regained her happy face and was already making big plans for what she would eat for breakfast.

What we need around here is a little excitement, don't you think?!

Lest you think Thursdays are boring

As I returned the laundry keys to the porter this afternoon, he informed me that even though I thought I had signed up do do laundry next week on Tuesday and Thursday, either through his error or mine, that wasn't going to be possible. Instead I would be doing laundry on Wednesday and Thursday. O.k. fine. "Can you just sign me up for Tuesday and Thursday for the following week?" I asked. "No problem, " he assured me. So, off I went to my happy little abode, where the scent of clean laundry filled the air.

A few hours later, Weston woke up from his nap completely soaked. (Being able to go potty by yourself doesn't really count during naps). "O.k." I thought, "the extra sheets are hanging on the line now, and we have a good breeze. They should be dry by bedtime (hopefully)."

A while later, I loaded up all the kids and we headed off in one direction, while Jeff headed off in another--but not before Jeff asked me if I had my key. I always have my key, so I didn't even bother to check. (On Thursdays I have Portuguese tutoring, and the kids love to go and play with my teacher's kids. At that same time, Jeff goes to our friend's English school to assist with the advanced English class). Moments after I arrived at my Portuguese teacher's house, her husband took Ruth and Weston with him to go pick his kids up from school.

Just as my teacher and I sat down to begin, the phone rang. It's Jeff. This unnerves me, because I can only think that something terrible has happened to him en route to his destination. No. The only thing that happened was that he heard from his brother and is changing his plans so as to have an opportunity to spend some quality brother time with Alan. He named the restaurant they were planning to go to and told me he would just meet me at church a little later.

Just as we finish up the Portuguese class, in walk the children with quite a tale to tell. Apparently, after they picked up the other kids from school, Mr. Douglas insisted on taking everyone out for ice cream. Yippee! Unfortunately, Mr. Douglas doesn't speak much English and Weston's urgent bathroom message couldn't be conveyed in a timely manner. So, once again the boy was soaked--and covered with pink ice cream, I might add. Oh well. What can you do?

We arrived back at our building, where the big kids gleefully made a dash for the elevator, as always. They were already there and inside when the porter stopped me. Turns out that one way or another, the laundry days I wanted for the week after next are not going to work out. I can do the laundry on Wednesday and Thursday, but not on Tuesday, as requested. I spend a few moments discussing this with him, and look up to find Ruth standing by my side but not Weston.

I didn't have to ask where he was, because about that time I could hear weeping and wailing ascending through the walls. That's right, Weston was on a solo elevator ride and he was completely freaking out. The porter immediately got on the phone to who-knows-who, trying to get them to intervene. I hopped on the other elevator with the other kids, seeing that the one Weston is in has been called to our floor, and thinking he might get off there if it seems familiar to him. The weeping and wailing continue and increase in volume and severity, as we are now in the shaft next to him. We arrive on the 8th floor but Weston isn't there, though we can certainly still hear him. I pushed the button again and a few seconds later the door opened to a sad and sobbing little boy. I wanted to cry, too, I admit.

Well, at least we are home and can get him into some dry clothes and feed him some dinner. That will surely make him feel better. But, wait, where is my apartment key?! No really. WHERE IS IT??!! This is unbelievable! It's nowhere to be found. So, we ALL hop back on the elevator to see if the porter has a spare. "No," he says, "but if we want to have one made to leave with him for next time..." He has no time to finish--and really there is no need--since my brood and I are already halfway out the front door.

I know where the restaurant is that Jeff was going to. I will just go get the key from him and this will all be over. Oh, but the sidewalks here in Brazil. And this darn double stroller. There are no ramps. These kids are heavy. And it's rush-hour. At least it's close. We made it over to the restaurant, only to find it seemingly closed and completely devoid of patrons. O.k. the church service will be starting in an hour. I'll just go grab something for the children to eat at the little convenience store across the street from the church and wait for Jeff.

A table is procured and food is purchased. We will all feel better after we have something to...
You're kidding me! You spilled your water?! Oh well, we'll just clean it up with these slick, plastic completely unabsorbent napkins. (Think little plastic sheets you get your doughnuts with at the grocery store or possibly popcorn bag).

Meanwhile, I'm scandalizing the entire nation of Brazil by drinking my water straight out of the bottle instead of pouring it into the flimsy plastic cup provided. Fortunately, though, I had my kids drink out of those cups. This diverts attention away from my faux pas, as one of those cups has been left within reach of the baby and water is now streaming down another side of the table.

Finally, we meet up with Jeff, snag the key and scoot on back to our apartment, only to find that Max has a very messy diaper, requiring me to use the dreaded Brazilian wipes, which are akin to the aforementioned napkins but really sudsy.

From where I sit, I'd say Thursdays are anything but boring.

Bane of the Bathroom

I guess it's high time I told all of you about the special plumbing in Brazil. It's simple. It's delicate. It does not accept toilet paper. That's not ideal, but it isn't a problem. We just put the paper in the trash can and move on. And, each bathroom comes equipped with a bidet-like sprayer to make clean-up a snap. The problem comes when you add a curious, newly-independent-potty-goer to the mix.

It's definitely a love/hate relationship. For some reason, if a parent is helping said potty-goer, he makes a huge fuss when his little bum is sprayed. When he is taking care of his business all by himself, however, it is nothing short of thrilling to attempt to spray not only the bum, but the entire room. And I have to say, I can't really blame the guy. That's just too much temptation. But, it's no good for the next in line to come in and sit on a wet seat and step in and around little puddles on the floor (even if it is just water--oh please, please, please nothing but water). And it's no good for the one who continually has to clean up the mess. And worst of all is when those people are one and the same. I think you get what I'm saying.

Here Comes The Sun

Our friend said it would rain for two weeks, and by golly, it rained for exactly two weeks. The sun came out on Monday, and Spring seems to be official now--though the weather seems about the same as it was before the rain began. (The mosquitoes are different, though, which I find very interesting). People have reappeared on the beach and the muddy footprints are starting to disappear off the floor. (Perhaps my floor is the only one that had muddy footprints, since the Brazilian women mop the floor about ten times a day, rain or shine). We have folded up our guarda-chuvas, and we're venturing out more. (Though, I can tell you, it's nowhere near warm enough yet for me to step foot in the ocean or pool). We are glad to see the sun and are looking forward to another beautiful season in this beautiful place.

And while we're on the subject...

Today I said to Weston, after he successfully used the potty by himself, "When did you get to be such a big boy?!" The sage response didn't come from Weston but from a high-pitched feminine voice in the other room: "Well, Mom, kids grow up fast."

That they do, Miss Ruth, that they do.

More than just a big boy haircut

You have all, by now, noticed Weston's big boy haircut (but you can check out my last post if you're lost here). But there is more to him than just a new 'do. He has become a big boy in so many other ways recently as well. He has learned how to dress and undress himself (if you don't count the occasional wrong-side-out and backwards shirt) and to go potty by himself--(Can I get a "WooHoo?!"). He can also just about say the whole alphabet now, and he can recognize signs and structures of places we go fairly regularly. As a mom, I find these accomplishments to be bittersweet. I thrill at the addition of each new skill, and I beam with pride at every milestone reached. But I must admit, it is a little sad for me, this warp speed passing of childhood. So, I secretly relish those moments when he is still a little boy--when he wants to sit in my lap or needs my help with some little task or asks me to sing his special "do-do-do" song when he's sleepy or sad. His growing up is inevitable, and I wouldn't change that for the world. I look forward to sharing each new phase of his development with all of you. But, in the quiet of my heart, I will be enjoying every minute that I still have him as my little boy.

Haircut

Before:

After:

Gaits Allowed

The other day I stopped Ruth, as she whizzed past me, and told her to stop running. She responded just as cool as you please: "I wasn't running. I was galloping." Darn loopholes. So, now half of our marker board has been devoted to the following:

Gaits Allowed*

• Walk
• Saunter
• Stroll
• Swagger
• March
• Tiptoe/Sneak
• Prowl

The kids think this is hilarious and have been practicing the gaits in hopes of establishing a favorite. Ruth is partial to the "prowl," while Weston seems to prefer the "march." The "cruise" is not included on the list but is certainly Max's gait of choice, although he still employs the "crawl" when he wants to get somewhere fast.
*For more information on these gaits and the disallowed gaits, you can click here.

60 Years

Sixty years ago today, two of my very favorite people in the whole world decided to join forces to create something truly amazing. My grandmother was only 17 when she said "I do," but she certainly knew what she was doing. And she and Grandaddy have been doing it well for sixty years now. Their relationship is truly special, and I dare say they love each other today every bit as much as the day they married.

Congratulations, Granny and Grandaddy! I love you both and am so proud to be a part of your family! May you have many more beautiful years together!

And the brother-in-law-of-the-day award goes to...

Alan!!

He brought me fun surprises from Texas: quality, grease-cutting dishsoap and a case of DIET DR. PEPPERS!!! This last item was the clincher. And, in fact, he probably would have won if he would have just brought me one. I may or may not have done a little dance at being presented with a whole case. Thanks for participating, Chad. Better luck next time. Parabens, Alan! You rock!

Quote of the day:

"I really liked math today! We used our brains instead of our crayons." ~Ruth

What Are the Odds?

We decide to move to a relatively small city, within a huge country, 6,000 miles from Texas. Then, of all the places in the world, Jeff's brother gets sent to that same smallish city, in that same huge country for work, within the timeframe of our stay. But, wait, there's more. His company books him in the hotel they always use in this city, and it turns out to be 4 blocks from our apartment. Now, seriously, what are the odds of that?!

First Month of First Grade: A Sampling

What's missing from this picture?

Answer: An itty bitty bottom front tooth from my great big girl!

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

Maybe. But, I'm not getting my hopes up. On Saturday, our friend said to us, "Now you will see it rain. It always rains for two weeks when the season is changing." And I'll be darned if it didn't start raining on Sunday. And we haven't seen the sun since. Our friend neglected to mention that it was also going to get COLD.* (As if it were winter or something)! The ocean has almost disappeared from view, and we certainly aren't enjoying any walks on the beach or dips in the pool. Thankfully, a care package arrived from the grandparents today with new toys, books and videos! There were squeals of delight all around! Thanks, Nana and Papa! We needed that fun little surprise to chase away the clouds. (Nevermind that you mailed it a month ago--it got here when we needed it most)!


*We are still tropical here, people, so it's not like we have icicles hanging off our balcony or anything. It's just that we packed for, well, a tropical climate, so we are feeling a bit chilled. At least I am. I think Jeff has just finally stopped sweating!

Our Beloved Liquificador

We have but one small appliance here in our teeny, tiny kitchen (if you don't count our half-size refrigerator and stove): the blender we treated ourselves to one day at the mall. But, it has taken on the roll of many others. In addition to the normal smoothies, we have also used it in making juice, chocolate milk, mashed potatoes, gravy, guacamole, and chocolate chip cookie dough, to name just a few applications. In the States, I used my blender, but not frequently--really just for smoothies and milkshakes. But, now, my eyes have been opened to a whole new world of possibilities for this powerful little underappreciated workhorse. Now, if I can just get it to wash the dishes!

For a good time call...

You'll remember that we don't have a car. So, we've been walking everywhere we need to go, which has been great. The only struggle that we've had with this at all has been grocery shopping. When we first moved here, we would walk over to the store every few days, pick up those necessities that could be carried or packed up in the stroller and then walk home. Bringing home a particularly heavy load one time--testing both the shocks on the stroller and Jeff's own manliness (made worse by incredibly uneven sidewalks and a completely handicap-indifferent society)--coupled with a more difficult time of coordinating school schedules and nap schedules with shopping schedules, made us give in and decide that some things are definitely car-worthy.

So, yesterday, we hired a cab to bring us (and our significant haul) back to the apartment. That was funny enough in itself: the five of us plus a Costco-sized load of groceries in a little Fiat. But when we arrived at the apartment, it got really interesting. Jeff hopped out of the cab at the door to our building to tell the porter to open up the garage for us, which was done without delay. There is a pretty steep ramp, with a curve in it, going up into the garage, and just as we reached the curve, the car died and we began sliding down the ramp backwards, toward the street. The driver muttered something about gasoline as the car rolled to a stop, with the right side of the car flush up against the wall.

I'm not having fun at this point (in fact, I'm somewhat terrified), but when I look up, there is a car coming at us head-on down the single-lane ramp. As the driver tries to figure out what to do next, I grab the kids, jump out of the cab and hustle everyone to the safety of our apartment. That's where my first-hand account ends, but not the utter ridiculousness of the situation. So, somehow, the driver gets the car loose from the wall and continues his backward descent, only to get stuck again. Finally, he is able to get down to the street, leaving an acrid smell of burnt rubber in the air. He mentions gasoline again and Jeff is pretty sure the guy is about to take off with all our groceries, never to be seen again. Just then another car enters the garage, and, inspired, our faithful cab driver decides to give it another go. This time he manages to get his cab wedged at the top of the ramp, inside the curve. The driver who had just gone up comes over to see what in the world is going on and begins telling the cab driver what an idiot he is and instructing him on how to properly enter the garage. The cab driver then vacates his car and the other man gets in and gets the car up the ramp, delivering our grocery-filled cab to the elevator door and then going on his merry way! If that's not a good time, I don't know what is!

Where There's a Will, There's a Weston

Over the course of the past month, we have noticed a change in our sweet, little, compliant Weston. Don't get me wrong, he's still just as sweet as he can be, but not so much compliant. He has decided to embrace all the glory of his two-ness, and has adopted a mantra of "I don't want to!" This is usually followed by a major crying fit when he is forced to do whatever it is he doesn't want to do--which can literally be anything. It's not really out-and-out rebellion, like we had (have) from a certain other child in our family (who I may have mentioned is just like her mother), but it is frustrating nonetheless and still needs to be corrected--though I admit I am sometimes at a loss as to how to help him through this difficult age.

But then there are moments like we had this evening, when I asked him to pick up some toys. He, of course, didn't want to, which led to the afore mentioned fit. He was in the thick of it and I was losing patience, when all of a sudden he stopped, came over to me and said, "I want to pray and ask the Lord to help me not be sad." Then, he closed his little eyes and prayed to the Lord with complete sincerity. When he finished the prayer, he hugged me and then proceeded to pick up the toys. I was reminded at that moment that I only have him on loan--and when I get to the end of my ability to parent, he still has a Parent that is far wiser than I to help him through his twos. And I was reminded that I need to take my frustration to the Lord the same way Weston took his.

Eight Months Old

Good News

My eye is completely better. But even more important is the fact that we found a restaurant (very close to our apartment) that has GUACAMOLE (and chips) on the menu. And not only that, it's actually quite tasty! Plus, it's just a cool little place. We will definitely be going back.

Replacing Illness With Injury

Did you miss me last night? No, I wasn't still sick. My illness was long gone. But I did have another little problem. That being blindness. Well, almost. So, around 6:00 yesterday evening I was holding Max in my lap. And he was doing what all happy babies do. He was waving his arms wildly at the object of his affection--in this case, me. We were having the best time. Until he caught me right in the eye. You know how a good poke in the eye hurts, right? And how your eye waters like crazy? Well, boy did it, on both counts. Usually this just lasts a short time and then you are back in the game. But this time I think Max actually managed to scratch my eyeball because my eye continued to water and hurt like the dickens for the next three hours, even with all my homeopathic attempts to assuage it! At that point I couldn't stand it any more and put myself to bed, promising Jeff that I would see a doctor today if it wasn't better. Obviously, I survived since I'm here to write about it. The excrutiating pain was gone when I woke up this morning, but I have still had slightly fuzzy vision on and off throughout the day and more eye goo than usual. I think by tomorrow I'll be back to 100%. I still hope to be the object of Max's affection, but maybe this time at arm's length.

Calling in a sub

I've only been teaching for three weeks and I have already had to call in a sub. Fortunately, there was someone available who could be trusted to teach the classes as if they were his own. I woke up feeling fine, but by the time I was finished with my shower I had a headache that wouldn't quit. I thought maybe it was just the dread of laundry day looming before me, but five minutes into the science lesson I knew it was more than that. The headache had been growing steadily worse, culmintating in a tossing of cookies and a calling in of the reserves. I did manage to get the laundry mostly done, but I also worked in a serious nap, which left my stomach settled if not my head. That one stuck with me through dinner, but then just sort of vanished, and now I feel fine. I think Ruth was sort of surprised and delighted to know that Jeff and I can take over each other's classes when necessary. Not that she was glad I wasn't feeling well. She gave no end of hugs and sympathetic words. She is such a sweetie. And Weston was oblivious to my not feeling well, but was thrilled that someone besides himself wanted to take a nap. (He, of course, would never admit that he wanted to take a nap, because that's just not what two-year-olds do. But he is always secretly thrilled when nap time rolls around). I look forward to being back in the teaching saddle again tomorrow, hopefully operating at full capacity.

Weekend Checklist

• Visit "the shopping" to pay electric bill, attempt (unsuccessfully) to work out phone problems, purchase new sheets for the kids and pick up some super-cute hair accessories. Check.
• Carmel candy making/eating session. Check.
• Late-night churrasco party. Check.
• Chubby pancakes. Check.
• Walk along the beach. Check.
• Purchase cutie bag from beach vendor. Check.
• Play on the beach and in the ocean. Check.
• Prepare school lessons for upcoming week. Check.
• Naps all around. Check.
• Self-given pedicure. Check.
• Gigantic burgers from what can only be called "a joint." Check.
• Biscuits and bacon. Check.
• Swimming and lounging by the pool. Check.
• Naps outra vez. Check.
• Sweeet dreams. Check.
• Lots of pretending--complete with "fort" building. Check.
• Read, read, read. Check.

Overall, a beautiful weekend. Hope yours was wonderful as well.

A poem by yours truly, inspired by by real life

Sleepless Love

A mother may close her eyes in prayer
Or even in a blink.
But a mother never really sleeps;
This is what I think.

In a moment a child is born,
A new awareness, too.
For a mother may be needed
At four or three or two.

Only she can wipe a nose
Or chase away bad dreams,
With soothing words or gentle touch--
Whatever that night deems.

She may grumble in the morning
And take her coffee black.
But she would not neglect her post
Just to have a few winks back.

On My Own

Well, it has taken me right at two months, but I have finally ventured out on my own. Jeff has a much better command of Portuguese than I do. But that aside, he has approached the lanuguage as he does all things--with utter and complete confidence. So, whether he actually knows more or just isn't as afraid to use what he does know is up for debate. The point is, I have been relying heavily on him when leaving the apartment so that he can do the talking/listening when and if it becomes necessary. This week, though, I have gone shopping twice on my own, and today I even went to pay a bill. (This is another special aspect of Brazilian culture: bills must be paid in person, in cash. It's fantastically inconvenient, on so many levels). It seems like a silly thing, I guess, but I'm really proud of myself. I feel like I am finally becoming more confident with using the language. And what freedom there is in that!

Love It or Leave It

There are things from home that I miss, and there are things I haven't once thought of. These lists are comprised strictly of things--not people--so don't get your feelings hurt if you don't see your name on the "love it" list. Just assume that you are loved and missed. Also, realize that I'm not saying I won't be glad to have some of the things on the "leave it" list when we get back. It's just that they have turned out to be less important than I might have once thought.

Love It--The much-missed and not-to-be-lived-without for more than six months:

• Dishwasher
• Hot water in the sink
• My own laundry facilities and the liberty to do laundry whenever I want
• My massage chair
• Diet Dr. Pepper
• The Swiffer mop
• Mircowave
• The back yard, where the kids can go play without my constant supervision
• Full-size, comfy couch (Jeff would probably substitute recliner here) and possibly some other comfy furniture
• More than a handful of plates and silverware
• What Jeff likes to call "adult-sized" drinking glasses
• English

Leave It--The nice, but certainly not necessary:

• Car/Minivan
• 2000+ sq. ft. of living space
• More than 10 pairs of shoes and more than 2 weeks worth of unique outfits
• Home decor
• Television
• Gobs of toys
• Carpet
• Stores that are open all the time

If you were to make lists like this, what do you think you would put on them?

Color-Coded World and The Yellow Fellow

Brazil is big into color-coding. Groceries for instance. Cold items go in a blue bag, cleaning supplies in a yellow bag and non-cold food items in a white bag. And uniforms. Everybody wears a uniform--for school, for work, for soccer on the beach--and every uniform has it's own color, of course. Doctor's wear white. Always. Whether on duty or not. Color is everywhere. In the flowers, the fruits, the linens hanging out to dry on so many balconies. But Weston sees only yellow. He has two yellow shirts that he adores. He insists on drinking the tea that comes only out of the yellow box. He'll fight anyone in the family for our one predominantly yellow plate. He prefers Ruth's school pencils to his box of colored pencils because, you guessed it, they are all yellow. We went out to eat last night at a little restaurant around the corner. Moments after we were seated near a yellow wall and across from a yellow beverage cooler, he exclaimed, "They have all the colors here, but I really love the yellow." Everything he spoke of then was in relation to it's proximity to "the yellow." At least he's man who knows what he likes.

The Avocado Dilemma

I don't feel like I would be out of line in saying that most Texans really like guacamole. Most of us were raised on the stuff and would eat it on almost anything. (Notice, I said "most." I know there are a few who won't eat it no matter what). We like it with tomatoes and without. With cilantro and without. Plopped in our queso. Piled on our enchiladas. On our eggs in the morning. On our hamburgers in the afternoon. On chip after chip after chip. And even just eaten off a spoon. It is one of the first table foods I have served all of my children. And, it's just plain yummy!

So, here in Brazil, they've got avocados. Huge avocados. In abundance. But the only way they ever serve them is blended up like a milkshake, with lots of sugar added. This isn't bad, I guess, but it's NOT guacamole! Jeff and I (in our sercret fatalistic plan to revolutionize Brazil) have tried to teach our friends the "real" way to enjoy these fabulous fruits, but they aren't having any part of it. Most of them won't even consider trying it when they find out what it is. And, there is no such thing as a tortilla here, much less a tortilla chip, so finding an appropriate substrate for handing out samples is a bit of a challenge.

But, we will not be deterred. If the Brazilians will not embrace this green goodness, then we will make it for ourselves, in the privacy of our own apartment. And we might even stage our own private revolution by topping our Brazilian black beans with a dollop or two just for spite.

What's Labor Day weekend without a picnic on the beach?

For the record, there is no Labor Day holiday here in Brazil, and it's winter here--meaning it gets dark early and it's a bit chilly when the sun goes behind the bulidings. But these minor little details didn't keep us from having a nice little family picnic on the beach--complete with homemade southern-style fried chicken and homemade potato salad (but not like Granny makes, because who can duplicate her perfect recipe?! Especially since I don't recall ever having seen a pickle in Brazil). We received no end of odd stares from the Brazilians, because 1). they don't really have picnics on the beach, at least not in the winter and 2). no self-respecting Brazilian would ever be caught dead eating dinner at 5:30 in the afternoon! Ah, but we had fun! And, as a bonus, it was Max's first time to get down in the sand! He loved it! Hope you all have a wonderful Labor Day weekend!

Know what's hard?

Giving birth to yourself. And then watching as your little genetic clone struggles with the same personality--flaws is not really the right word, I don't think--difficulties, lets say, that you have tried to (are trying to, will be trying to) overcome. I watched heartbroken (and somewhat horrified) today as Ruth streached a 20-minute spelling lesson out for almost an hour, beating herself up, crying her eyes out and erasing holes in the paper. I encouraged her that she was doing well. I begged her to consider leaving off this lesson for today and coming back to it tomorrow, when she might have a new perspective. I sat there knowing just exactly how she felt and not being able to do a thing in the world about it. She wanted the letters to be perfect. They looked great to me. But to her, they weren't perfect, and no amount of cajoling could persuade her otherwise. I have struggled with this same perfectionism my whole life, in certain areas. I have wadded up countless pieces of paper with only the slightest mistake on them. In high school, I always wrote my final draft first, and then went back and wrote the outline because I didn't want anything to be incomplete. As recently as yesterday, I felt this need to get things "just right" almost overwhelming me. But I am a grown up, and I have learned (am learning, will be learning) that everything doesn't always have to be perfect. Having children has helped a lot with that. But watching Ruth struggle with herself in this way is almost more than I can bear. I, of course, want her to always do her best, but by no means do I expect perfection. How can I teach her to love herself and to accept her best as her best?! How can I model that for her in my own life, when I feel the same way she feels?!

Oh, Lord, please help me! This is beyond my strength and beyond my knowledge. It is too much for me. But I know it is not too difficult for you! Touch my little girl's heart and let her know that You love her (and her too-fat "d") just the way she (it) is, and that that is enough. And while you're at it, touch my heart as well.

My Right-Hand Man

One of the challenges of doing homeschool with Ruth is what to do with Weston. We try to include him in as many of the lessons as possible by giving him little assignments and engaging him in the stories, but his attention span is only so long, and my fear is that he will begin to feel neglected. To combat this, I make a point of spending some time doing something with just him during the day. To this end, he has become my right-hand man. Today, he helped with the laundry--oh the thrill of pushing the elevator button, riding on the elevator, carrying the detergent, loading the washer and dryer, peering down into the floor drain, putting lint in the trash can and watching the things in the dryer go round and round! Things only a child can truly appreciate, because as adults these things have managed to become a chore rather than a never-ending supply of adventure and fun. He also helped with defrosting the freezer, weilding the hairdryer like a soldier on a mission and delighting at the drip of water onto his toes and the floor. Not to mention the satisfying crash of huge chunks of ice being thrown into the sink. And he also helped me unload the groceries, carrying the heavy bags to the kitchen like a man and inspecting the contents to ensure our dining pleasure in the days to come. It was beautiful to watch his enthusiasm for these things, even as my enthusiasm waned. He enjoyed the day as much as any we've had on the beach or in the pool or being out and about, and he was so proud of himself for being such a good helper. I was reminded to find joy in the mudane and that it's not so much about the task but about the attitude with which it is approached. (Laundry can be fun. Say it with me). It was humbling and exhilerating and really sort of freeing. But best of all was spending a portion of the day with my little man and knowing that there is nothing else on earth that he would rather do than spend some time with me.

Kissing Culture

Brazil is one of those kissing countries. You know, a peck on each cheek, in greeting. Or is it a peck only on one cheek, when departing?! No one really knows. (Really. I asked). It's all very awkward and confusing. (Jeff lives in fear that he will zig when he should have zagged). At least here there doesn't seem to be the added akwardness of men kissing men. (Unlike Uruguay, which Jeff has ruled out as a possible destination for us based a departure cheek-kiss he received the other day from a young Uruguyan man). Add language confusion to kissing confusion and you've got real trouble. For instance, a week ago, while staying at a church campground up in the mountains, some ladies came to assist us with getting our room set up. They asked Jeff if he wanted a berco [beh-soo] (baby bed). Familiar only with the similar word beijo [bay-joo] (kiss), he turned two shades of red and reluctantly said, "sure." He was surprised when, instead of receiving a nice kiss on the cheek, the ladies left and returned a few moments later with a crib for Max. Jeff was spared the awkward kissing, but we've had no end of good laughs.

Perfect Ten

Jeff and I celebrated our ten-year anniversary on Friday. We were only 21 when we got married, and a lot of people thought we were sort of crazy. And I guess we might have been, but all we knew was that we were crazy about each other. And every day since that day, we have continued to be crazy about each other. And, amazingly, we love each other more now than we did then. I can't imagine anything more fun than the last ten years, and I'm really looking forward to the next ten (and the ten after that, and so on)!

"Grow old along wih me! The best is yet to be...!" --Robert Browning

If you thought crawling was fun, you're going to love this!

Going Commando

It's been a hard week in the underwear department. And laundry rules being what they are, Weston ran completely out of underwear. So, this morning I told him it looked like he was going to have to wear a pull-up until at least after the first load of laundry could get out of the dryer. He was heartbroken. I mean, what self-respecting big boy could possibly bear such degredation?! I then told him the only other choice was to go without. He readily agreed to this arrangement, so I laughingly told Jeff that Weston was "going commando" today. Later, with the underwear clean and dry and ready to wear, we heard this statement from Weston: "If the commandos take my diapers, I can wear my underwear." Not sure who these "commandos" are, but Weston is definitely in favor of them if it means he can either wear or not wear underwear--anything as long as he doesn't have to go through the humiliating act of wearing a diaper during daylight hours.

First Day of First Grade

Well, today was the official first day of school at the Watts Academy. And it was so much fun--for everyone! I think a lot of you out there are wondering what exactly we're doing, so I'm going to tell you. We are following the curriculum presented in a book called The Well-Trained Mind, which we highly reccomend for anyone who has ever even considered the homeschool option or who is just interested in supplementing a regular school curriculum. We have tweaked the suggested schedules and subject matter to fit our family and situation best. We have decided to adopt a flexible schedule (for obvious reasons), rather than a fixed schedule--which means that instead of always having Math at, say, 9:00, we have Math for 40 minutes per day. Period. We may get it done first thing in the morning, or it might get pushed to the afternoon, depending on our needs on any given day. (Although we are attempting to have a consistent start time and to keep the classes more or less consecutive, when possible). Here's the class breakdown:

Math--40 min. M-F
History--90 min. T/Th
Spelling--20 min. M-Th
Grammar--25 min. M-Th
Free Reading--30 min. M-F
Science--60 min. M/W
Structured Reading--30 min. M-F
Portuguese--30 min. M-F
Art--60 min. M

In addition to our regular Monday schedule, we also managed to work in a little economics (trip to the store) and P.E. (play on the beach) today to round out our day. I'm sure there will be days when one or all of us are wondering why we ever thought this would be a good idea, but for the most part, we are all really excited and feel like we are doing the right thing for us at this time. We don't have any pictures of Ruth dolled out in new school clothes or with a brand new backpack, but we did manage to snap a few pics of her first day. (Which you will have to check out on flickr, because Blogger won't let me put them here). Check back often to keep up with Ruth's (and our) progress through First Grade.

One for the books

Jeff and I thought it would be a good idea to have Ruth start memorizing the books of the Bible, so after lunch today I picked up the whiteboard marker and prepared to make a list. To our complete surprise, Ruth was able to name the first 14 books for me without any assistence. We haven't really worked on this with her before, so we asked how she knew the books and the order. She shrugged her shoulders and very flippantly responded, "Well, I read the table of contents in my Bible." By the end of the day, she could say the first 22 books without looking. (She may or may not have even done better than Jeff and I).

First Grade Preview

We are planning to start our homeschool curriculum with Ruth on Monday, so Jeff and I have been busy talking, organizing, looking through material and getting all the supplies ready in the last couple of weeks. We are excited (and also a little nervous, truth be told), and the excitement seems to have caught on. Today Ruth asked if she could "just do one Spelling lesson for practice". By the end of the day, she had done three Spelling lessons, a Math lesson and an introductory History lesson. And she had looked through the Science book on her own with Weston. We literally had to make her stop. She's so motivated, and that is so very neat to see! She will be an easy student to teach (I hope) because she loves to learn. We are all looking forward to this experience and will keep you posted on our journey through First Grade.

7 Months Old

Trinta e um

We made the birthday official today. 31. Wow. Not nearly as hard to take as 30, I can tell you. Of course, pretty much anything is easy to take when you've got the beach in your backyard! Anyway, I thought we had done all of our celebrating yesterday, but today was pretty fun in it's own right. Jeff and the kids wanted to take me shopping (at "the shopping," which is how they say "mall" here). I found a couple of really cute skirts, two pairs of shoes (one of which is red and oh so cute!), and a long-sleeved shirt for our next trip to the mountains this coming weekend. I'm a size 40 in skirts and 38 in shoes, in case you were wondering. (I will also be picking up a cute bag I saw yesterday at one of the beach vendors on our next outing). After the praise service at church tonight, I wanted to ask for prayer for a special blessing for my birthday. I thought maybe one or two of the men would pray for me, but about 100 people ended up staying behind after the service to pray for me, which touched me in an incredible way. Not only that, they all filed past me afterward with hugs and kind words--in English and Portuguese. Again, the love I have been shown here overwhelms me. After the service, the five of us and a few of our friends went out for pizza and had a wonderful time. And then when we got home, I found that I had voice mails galore from many family members calling with birthday wishes. I called them back and enjoyed very much getting to talk to all of them. What a blessed life and what a happy birthday!!

Birthday Eve

Well, tomorrow is my birthday, but we decided to do our celebrating today, since we had pretty much the whole day free. We walked down the beach at lunchtime to a happening little restaurant that serves a fabulous local dish called moqueca. We had the lobster moqueca, and it was the best we've ever eaten. Then we went next door to the ice cream shop. After that we wandered through the little booths of beach vendors. Ruth arranged with her dad (but completely of her own initiative) to buy me a fresh coconut water, and I picked up a beautiful little piece of sand and shell art that is now hanging proudly on my wall. Then, we made our way back to the apartment, stopping to watch a man take off in his hang glider. (I'm so glad we didn't arrive a few minutes sooner or we would have been numbered among the witnesses that saw a city bus run over a motorcycle and it's rider, and I think that would have been quite traumatic for the children. We arrived on the scene just as the ambulance was driving away, and the children never really did know why that big group of people was standing around by the side of the road). Once we arrived at home, we all took a nice nap. We went to a beautiful church service this evening and then came back to the apartment for mango pie. It was a fun day, and I'm so thankful I got to share it with my beautiful family.






*More pictures on flickr.

Another Lesson In Brazilian Culture

We were talking to some friends of ours the other day and mentioned that Jeff is the primary (and better) cook in our family. They thought this was great and invited him to cook for them in their home. We set the party up for last night. On Wednesday evening, they mentioned to us that another family had invited themselves over and that they would join us for dinner and for a short Bible study. No problem. We would have to pick up a few more things at the store, but that was easily done. We arrived at our friends' house around 5:00, so that we could have a Portuguese lesson before the other festivities. The other family was scheduled to arrive around 7:30.

At 8:30, our friends called and found out the other family just leaving their house. They arrived a few minutes later, and informed us that they had invited another couple to join us and that they would arrive shortly. Jeff and I exchanged glances, hoping there would be enough food for everyone. Around 9:00, we began the Bible study, and dinner was served at about 10:30. The Brazilian children were not fond of the dish Jeff prepared, so their parents gave them cookies for dinner instead. Then, multiple bowls of ice cream for dessert. (And, I can tell you, we were not looked on favorably for withholding these indulgences from our children). Our children were completely exhausted, but our hosts wouldn't hear of us leaving until they had served coffee--at 11:30! We got home and got the children put to bed right around midnight. This is Brazilian culture. It's just what you do. (And not just on weekends)! And this is how we know we will never really be Brazilian.

We also had an opportunity to learn something else interesting today at lunchtime, when we served sandwiches to our Brazilian guests: You never serve bread (i.e. sandwiches) at lunchtime. They only eat it for breakfast and for an afternoon snack. Good to know.

Game On

Having conquered (more or less) the realm of the horizontal, Max has decided it's time for a new challenge, and he's going vertical. (Never mind that he skipped the sitting stage entirely)! He has begun to go over to furniture and pull himself up onto his knees. From this vantage point, he can reach (and pull down) all the books from the shelf, which he then fervently crams into his mouth until they begin to turn into an ooey, gooey mess. We have also seen him pull up to a standing position a couple of times from his knees, which just blows us away. (I mean, he's not quite 7-months-old, for crying out loud)! He hasn't cracked his head open yet, thank goodness, but I feel sure that day is coming. Jeff has long predicted that Max will be our earliest walker, and it looks like he may be right. One thing's for sure, my full-time job has just gone into overtime! But even more difficult than that is seeing my itty, bitty baby grow up so fast!

Just Like Dad

The other day Weston said, "When I grow up, I want to be a computer man. And when I get older, I will get to push buttons on the computer." Like father, like son. Here is a picture of the two of them computing together:

New pics (and a new look) available for your viewing pleasure

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Birthday Party, Brazilian-Style

One of the greatest things about traveling abroad is getting to experience different cultures and to see how people do things differently. Brazilian culture is certainly different from American culture and here's a perfect example:

We were invited to a birthday party for a five-year-old, which was to be held tonight. The party started at 9:00 pm. There were no less than 100 people there. And the sugar-filled goodies were supplied in abundance--with no parent making any attempt to curtail any child's consumption of such, and many encouraging each child (whether their own or not) to have more. Jeff and I are all about a good birthday party, but we sat in a corner with two other American couples with our jaws on the floor, unable to process what we were seeing. We left early (about 10:15), using the baby as an excuse, but there were still children running around everywhere and almost literally bouncing off the walls. And now I'm wondering whom of my American friends is willing to volunteer to bring this aspect of Brazilian culture to America? Go ahead and raise your hands. We are all interested in knowing who among us is so crazy. But crazy or not, it was a fun party, and I'm sure little Simon will remember it with fondness, at least until next year's bash.

Just the Highlights

I want so badly to tell you about our day in a witty and charming way, but it's after midnight here, and after a full, fun and somewhat frustrating day, I just don't have it in me. So, here are the highlights:

• Received a supicious certified letter in the mail, which turned out to be a warning and fairly hefty fine for a violation of the laundry rules. No, I'm not kidding.
• Had the power turned off in our apartment for several hours because of an outstanding bill. Not our outstanding bill, mind you. But that didn't seem to matter. So, we had to figure out how to get the bill paid, get our power turned back on and contact the condo owner to try to get it all straightened out--all in Portuguese. (Thank goodness for our friends who helped us out so much)!
• Had a lovely playgroup meeting at the beach.
• Attended our first Portuguese tutoring session at the home of a kind and generous family, and stayed to have a "snack" with them afterward. Full-blown meal is more like it--with cake, rolls, sweet bread, meat, cheese, yogurt, coffee, soft drinks, chocolate milk, etc. This afternoon "snack" seems to be the Brazilian norm.
• Received our new phone. We now have two--a "home" phone and a cell phone. They are actually both cell phones, but one works better for local calls and the other better for international calls. Jeff has literally been working on our phone situation since the first day we got here, so we are hoping this is the end of that on-going saga.
• Hosted our first dinner party in our new home, showing off Jeff's now-incredible churrasco skills.
• Recevied notice that the water will be off in our building all day tomorrow.
• Looked at the ocean and listened to the waves crash long after the beach lights had been turned off, meaning it is now way, way past bedtime.

Great Moments In Parenting

It was one of those days. You know the kind. The (big) kids were loud, disobedient, argumentative and, at moments, completely out of control. They were constantly picking on each other, making each other scream and cry. Jeff and I felt like we were getting on to them all day long, but nothing seemed to work. We had already planned to make pizza for dinner--which the kids were obviously excited about--but we didn't feel like their behavior warranted such a reward. So, in what we thought was a stroke of pure parenting genius, we decided that we would go ahead and have the pizza ourselves and serve the kids leftover chicken, explaining to them that you don't get to have special things, like pizza, if you don't make good choices. And to make them really suffer, we would serve them the boring-est of the boring as a side: unseasoned, boiled cabbage. As expected, they were heartbroken at not getting to eat the pizza. But here's where the plan broke down: they both loved the cabbage and ravenously scarfed it down. In fact, Ruth didn't even eat her chicken. She only ate cabbage. And Weston doesn't eat any vegetables if he can avoid it--except cabbage, as it turns out. Still, I think the pain of us eating pizza--and mango/pineapple pie--in front of them without them getting a bite will inspire a genuine change in behavior for tomorrow. If not, we'll just threaten to take away their cabbage.

Feelin' the love

I cannot not tell you how loved Jeff and I (and the kids) have felt since we have been here in Brazil. We have no less than a dozen phone numbers of people who have told us we can call them anytime if we need anything--from people in our church to random cab drivers, to the porter in our building and our neighbor. We have been invited to playgroups and birthday parties. Our children have been given gifts in abundance. We've had several offers from people willing (and eager) to babysit our kids. It's been amazing. And every person is completely genuine. They truly want to help and to just be friendly. We have been made to feel so very welcome. Unfortunately, American culture tends to be much more closed, with everyone minding his or her own business and not really caring what anyone else is doing. It's been convicting to me being here as I've thought about how I might treat a foreigner living in my country. I'm ashamed to say that I don't even know if I'm capable of showing the kind of love to strangers that has been shown to me here. I do hope that I will come home changed, though, and be a more loving, genuine person, looking outward at the needs of others instead of only and always inward at what's going on in my own little world.

No Stopping Him Now

Our little guy is mobile now. It's not really orthodox crawling, but he can flat get where he wants to go--and quickly, too. Just look at that look on his face. He's knows the world has opened up to him in a whole new, wonderful way. I would love to show you the video, but our internet connection still isn't quite that powerful. It's been loaded on flickr, though, so if you have better internet service than we do, you might be able to check it out there--but I'm not making any promises. There are also lots of other new pictures up there, if you're interested.

Sexta-Feira: A Day In The Life

• Ruth finished 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, her second in her current goal of five books.
  
• We went to the grocery store, which is a very big outing for us. It entails loading the boys up in the stroller, packed with my front-pack carrier for Max, our big bag and a few toys; walking several miles over to the store; picking out the things on our list; gawking at all the things we aren't familiar with; letting everyone pick out one special something to take home; finding at least one new thing to try; convincing the clerk that we really are not interested in paying for our groceries in installments; loading Max into the carrier; loading the stroller up with groceries; walking back home; and finding a place for everything in our (not-so) gigantic kitchen. It's a blast! One of our favorite outings of the week!
  
• Ruth's last day of a day-camp she has been attending at a nearby language school. She was actually in a class that was being taught in English to Portuguese-speaking children. But it helped her gain confidence in interacting with Portuguese speakers and allowed her to get out of the house and away from us, and make some new friends, while enjoying some fun activities--like American football (as opposed to soccer, which is the "football" of choice around here) on the beach.
• Laundry Day. Sounds a little mundane, but it's actually a huge, huge deal, since I have 3 children, as you know--one of whom is two and another of whom has just recently started eating solids; and since there are quite a lot of laundry rules to follow. For instance, each family is only allowed to use the lavanderia two times during the week--not including Saturday and Sunday--for six hours at a time. They enforce this by having you check out a key, not to the laundry room, but to the individual washers and dyers. And they keep a log of when you return the keys. In addition, you must sign up for a machine at least 24 hours in advance, so there's no just slipping in and doing your laundry on a moments notice--although they did let me get away with that my very first time because there happened to be a free machine, and I'm sure they felt sorry for the poor, dumb American bumbling her way through the process.
• Churrasco success! Jeff got going early on the churrasco and produced a fabulous pile of (cooked) meat any Watts man would be proud of.
• Dessert! Fridays have always kind of been days that we have a little mini-celebration to start the weekend. Tonight we indulged in some of our special grocery store treasures: chocolate/hazelnut cookies, Garoto bombons and balls of chocolate yumminess covered in chocolate sprinkles.
• Family Night. We like to use Friday evenings as a pure family night when we can. We usually have a little family Bible study and then do something like play a game or watch a movie or some other little something that we can all do together. Tonight it was Phase 10--a card game that both kids know how to play (with our modified rules, which more resemble Uno) and enjoy very much.
  

It was a very fun and intersting day, and now it's time for a restful and peaceful night. Hope you all had a happy Sexta-Feira as well. I'll try to check back in with you tomorrow.

If the Salmonella doesn't get you, the love bug will

The first time Jeff ever cooked for me we were dating and in college. He spent quite a long time cooking chicken on his little hibachi grill and then served it to me raw along with some excuse about the charcoal. We ended up going out for burgers as we laughed at the situation. I fell completely head-over-heels in love, and he's been cooking for me ever since--although I would definitely say his technique has improved and most of the things he produces in the kitchen or on the grill are super-fabulous these days. But sometimes, you need to go back in time, to remember why you fell in love in the first place, and tonight was just that occasion. Jeff decided to try out the little churrasco grill at our apartment complex tonight. (Picture meat on swords going around and around over a charcoal fire). So, we all hung out by the pool (with a view of the ocean) while the meat went around and around (and around), having a grand ol' time, until it finally became clear that the chicken was not going to be done at any kind of a reasonable dinner time, at least not on this day. Turns out language isn't the only thing with a learning curve. We laughed, moved on to Plan B, and maybe fell just a little more in love. And the mishap aside, the churrasco is a wonderful invention that definitely has the potential to produce good eats. We will certainly be trying this again soon.

Como se diz...?*

They do not teach you everything you need to know in Portuguese classes. Here are some of the questions/situations we have had to navigate since we've been here:

• My son had an accident and I need new sheets for the bed.
• Our sink is stopped up. Can you help us?
• I need the key for the washer/dryer.
• Will this cell phone work internationally?
• Where can I recharge the credits on my prepaid cell phone?
• Is the grocery store open on Sunday?
• Where is the nearest grocery store?
• No, my baby is not cold. In fact, he is sweating.
• Etc. etc.
  

Living in a country where you don't speak the language is not for the faint of heart. It is sometimes very frustrating, but also pretty exciting when you are actually able to communicate. These were some of the successful conversations. I won't even bother with the ones that went nowhere.

*That's "how do you say...?"

From Our Back Porch, You Can See The Sea

Here's the amazing view* from our porch:




*Picture this as a panorama, and know that it definitely doesn't do justice to how amazing the view actually is. And it doesn't have sound, so you don't get the soothing crashing of waves, but it'll give you a small idea about what our backyard is like and why we love this place.

We Have Arrived

In Brazil. In our apartment. In life, in general, it seems. We arrived in this inappropriately-named country of "Order and Progress" a week ago yesterday. We spent the first five days in an apartment that our church keeps for foreign visitors, where all five of us (and our intimidatingly large amount of luggage) stayed in one little room, packed wall to wall with twin-size beds. We shared our meals with people from Brazil, Peru, the Czech Republic and the United States. It was a wonderful experience, but we were thankful to get to move into our own apartment on Tuesday. It is still a small space (about 600 sf), but there are lots of common areas in the building we can use, and--and this is the best part--our back yard is the Atlantic Ocean, so it doesn't really seem so small. (I'm serious about that backyard thing. From our porch on the 8th floor we have a 180 degree view of the beach/ocean, and it is absolutely is amazing)! And aside from a few minor inconveniences--no hot water in the kitchen sink, laundry facilities 5 floors below, imperfect internet service and not speaking or understanding the language very well, and maybe one or two other little things--it's absolutely perfect! The kids are having a blast, and Weston has surprised us by being the most willing of anyone to speak the language and make new friends. I will upload pictures when we figure out how to get a wider bandwidth for the internet signal. This afternoon, we are headed up into the mountains for the weekend. Our church has a beautiful campground there where we will attend a seminar. We are looking forward to drawing nearer to the Lord and enjoying a very lovely part of His creation. I'll check back in with you sometime next week.

See You On The Flip Side

Of the world. Literally. We head out for Brazil tomorrow! Unbelievable. And as soon as Jeff gets back from Wal-mart with another suitcase for us (so, we can't count!), I think we will be able to get everything packed...and under the weight limits. Hopefully. After I post this, I will pack up my computer, and then will be out of touch for a while. Until we get settled. So, it might be a couple of weeks or so. Don't give up on me. I will be back--in Bloggerland in the near-term and in America in the longer-term. I love you all and appreciate your thoughts and prayers and well-wishes. Tchau (Brazillian "ciao") for now.

La Isla Bonita

*See the rest of the pics on flickr.