Thpenther Turnth Fee

It wasn't easy, bringing him into the world three years ago today, but my gap-toothed, platinum blonde, dimple-cheeked little lithper, Thpenther, was worth it all, a billion times over.

He told me what gifts he'd like to receive.  "I like blue presents, mom," he said.  This took me back to Aaron's delight with his Yellow Birthday Party when he turned three.  Three is a great age for simple gifts, I find.  From his grandpa he got an Imaginext Batmobile, which he calls his "cool car" (which, while blue, is not so simple, but is also not from his immediate [cheap] family) .  He sometimes pushes it around on the floor, but mostly he carries it in his arms and calls it his baby, like he sometimes does with other random objects, not including dolls and stuffed animals.

I remember the first time I gave Spencer chocolate, in chocolate chip pancakes.  He ate it voraciously and begged for more.  He seriously shook as he anxiously put each bite into his mouth.  Over the years he has become slightly less obsessed, but is still a major fan of chocolate, which must be stored out of his sight.  He asked for brownies for his birthday cake and then said, "I like brownies and cake and pies and muffins and cookies."  Me too, Spencer.  Me too.


In his personal prayer tonight he thanked his heavenly father "that I could eat my mint brownieth and that I could be (unclasping hands and holding up three fingers) three (re-clasping), and that I could be a liiiiiiiiiittle bit bigger."

I'm grateful for those things too, but only in a sort of resigned way because the truth is that today I wish he could stay just like he is now forever.

The Person Who Took Me Out On Valentine's Day

While visiting my in-laws in Łódż a couple weekends ago, we decided to take advantage of the free babysitting (not that we ever pay for babysitting...) and go on an early Valentine's date.  

On the way to our destination Greg snacked on a bag of hazelnuts.  He's a lover of all nuts and has always eaten them.  Quite a lot.  As he drove and ate I asked, "Did you eat that whole bag!?!"  

It was really only 100grams (I think), but I could never eat that many nuts in one sitting.  He replied, "It was a small bag!" while tipping the last few nuts into his mouth."  

Within less than a minute his nose started running like crazy.  He had to pull over to take care of it.  He felt very weird and congested and couldn't believe how suddenly the feeling had come on.  Although he'd never experienced anything like it, we realized it must have been an allergic reaction.

I was a little worried it would get worse and suggested we go back home.  Or maybe to the emergency room.  He said he'd be fine and we continued to Manufaktura.  When we got there we bought a box of tissues and he took some essential oils and we headed to a neat little cafe and ate cake.

It was hard to talk about anything but his reaction.  Especially because I got in the car with a man that was approximately this dashing:

And then found myself sitting across the table from an alien man that was approximately this dashing.

Yikes!  Poor guy.  The swelling was gone by the next afternoon, but unfortunately he won't be eating nuts, probably ever again. Or seeds, as he learned when he ate bread with sunflower seed in it.  (or "shine seeds" as Aaron calls them).

After reading on the subject he learned that sometimes it is just a matter of the amount you eat.  You could eat, for example, 90 grams of nuts and be fine, but if you ate another 10 grams you might have the reaction.  He wishes he'd stopped eating when I asked about it (although I was only a little surprised, and didn't mean to criticize).  Seriously that last 5 nuts probably made all the difference.  He swears he'll start taking what I say into greater consideration.  :)

Like Halloween, Only at Christmas

I come from a culture in which  people spread Christmas cheer by gathering in groups and going door to door on a cold and frosty evening to sing Christmas carols, usually in harmony.  Sometimes they even bring treats for the inhabitants of the homes who's doors they knock on.

As a lover of singing and spreading Christmas cheer I have always enjoyed Christmas caroling. And, really, as a lover of donuts and hot apple cider after caroling I have always enjoyed Christmas caroling.

I have missed it in the years we've lived here.  Christmas caroling is, um, different in Poland.  And by different I mean that it's basically the opposite of what it is in the States.  Beginning with the fact that it is done after Christmas instead of before.

Young or teenage boys dress up as shepherds or wise men (and we once had a grim reaper?) and knock on doors after Christmas.  When the door is opened they begin singing.  Badly.  And in most cases very badly.  It is hard not to laugh, but a blast of icy air is usually freezing your face stiff before the laughing comes (when it's just a pleasant smile), assisting you in your efforts to be kind..

Although these young carolers don't come bearing any Christmas goodies  there IS an element of giving involved.  Those being sung to are expected to cough up something valuable to give to each of the (usually 3-5) boys.  Money, of course, is the most acceptable but we've given treats before, too.  That was only because we didn't have any coal on hand.  At our house "gifts" are only ever handed over after Greg has given the boys a proper  teasing and made them all giggle (if they're elementary aged) or slug each other in the arms (if they're a little older).  Usually something about how bad their singing was, or remarks about their costumes (the grim reaper that one year really got an earful!).

They take their loot and are off to terrorize the next neighbor.  It's really very festive.


Who'll bet I reach crabby old-ladihood before Melanie?  Who bets I'm already there?

This post should probably have some sort of title but it's not really about anything

*I had a dream in which I saw a lot of people doing different things. I don't really remember details, it was mostly just regular life stuff, but some people would talk about one or another of the others saying that they were "a good Christian". They were all from different religions. This dream caused me to think for days about whether or not anyone would ever even wonder of think about whether or not I was Christian just based on what I say and do (and especially do). I am still thinking about it.

*Aaron (who will be 4 in April) threw up for the first time last week. It was a gag reflex thing because Greg made him try an orange. What a bad father.

*It should come as no surprise that we had Christmas dinner with our holiday friends. I ate one of the best meals I've ever eaten (she did all the cooking) and between that and all the holiday treats we've been making and eating (I've been a little out of control) I am really in need of some serious reigning-it-in. May try the diet Greg used.

*I love the New Year and made a good list of things I want to change/improve about myself in general, goals for the year, monthly and daily goals and plans etc. It is rather depressing to realize how much I need to change to be (even half) the person (mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend) I want to be. Could someone please just zap me and make me perfect? Thanks in advance.

*Finally went sledding today for the first time. Can you spot all four kids?

(hints: one is sweeping snow off the stairs, one's blending into the neighbors' fence and doing nothing, as usual, one's about to throw a snowball and one is trying to grab my phone)

*Kind of a bummer that the snow suit that Greg's parents gave Spencer for his birthday doesn't fit him -- at all. This was the second and last time he will be wearing it. (Greg's glad, as he thinks it is embarrassingly ugly. I think it's fine with the matching hat from an uncle and gloves from grandma, but I do feel like adjusting my own pants every time I look at this.)

*I hope everyone is ready for a wonderful new year in which to become perfect! (no, I'm kidding. I do plan on choosing the most important/doable things for now and worrying about the impossible stuff later. I'm sick of the impossible stuff.)

*So actually just HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Love My Neighbor? Check!

We're pretty isolated out here. Of course this is largely by choice, because I'm bad at making friends and very bad at making friends that don't speak my language or understand my culture. (Because I don't really try. Awful, I know.)

A couple of months ago we got word that a new American family was moving into our branch. The family itself wasn't actually new, but the fact of their being in Poland was. Happy news for sure, but even happier was finding out that they were moving closer to us than to Kraków!

I was super excited. Imagine having Americans close enough that we could actually visit each other!! I tried not to get too excited because, really, what if we totally hated each other? No, I didn't actually think that except, only sort of.

See, he's a volleyball player. He came here to play for the team in Rzeszów, one hour away from Mielec. And he played on the US team in the 2008 Olympics and won the gold. Awesome, huh? Super awesome. Except. . .

Greg and I are the least athletic people I know. I mean, Greg walks Nordically and I occasionally spend 7 minutes doing leg lifts and push-ups, but as far as sports? Um, no. We're much more the not-playing-watching-following-or-thinking-about-sports type. So I felt a little worried.

What if they came over and only ever wanted to talk about exercise and physical coordination? What if they only liked to play games that involved a ball? What if they only ever ate volleyball-performance-enhancing foods which I knew nothing about how to cook!?! THIS COULD BE AWFUL!!!

We hadn't met them even once when we invited them to our house for a Halloween party. He had a game that day so we watched it live on TV and then they came over. There was pizza. There were no games involving sports. There was just us (and hardly any decorations).

They were very, very nice. They ate pizza. She brought cookies. They talked about things like what it's like living in Poland, the church, motherhood. Regular things. And, when we asked, they told us a little about their life traveling for Ryan's volleyball career. And I understood and enjoyed every word (none of the technical how-to-play-volleyball talk I had feared) . And I also have no idea if you call it a career or what.

As a matter of fact, we had such a nice time talking that we didn't even do most of the non-sporty Halloween games we had planned for the kids. It was great. Their darling son, Max made my night when, after they had been here for maybe 15 minutes and we were eating pizza, he proclaimed, "This is the BEST HALLOWEEN PARTY EVER!!!" Yes, I realize that this is a four year-old (that probably can't even remember any other Halloweens) and that we had not yet actually started the party, but he was still my new best friend.

Then we had Thanksgiving together. Again, very nice. Our Aaron and their Max were robots. They were the kind of robots that tear apart playrooms, but then put them back together. Robot Max again had the quote of the night when he had finished his mint chocolate pie (another recipe from Chocolate Never Faileth!) and his dad asked, "Hey Max! What are you doing!?!" To which Max replied, "I'm just licking my plate." Sounds like a good Thanksgiving activity to me, even if his dad insisted he wasn't a dog. :)

Up next: a Feliz Navidad party at their place. Awesome. I'm so grateful these guys ended up here. It is so great to have people to spend the holidays with (not "the holidays" as in the holiday season but "the holidays" as in literally each holiday. :) and to get to know in general. We are loving it.
P.S. I exaggerated some of this post, but just the part about my fears, not the part about the gold medal. :)

The Best [Decorations] in Life are Free

I have often lamented (but successfully kept myself from dwelling on) the fact that the change of the seasons just isn't celebrated in the same way here that it is back home.

At this time of year I love when people talk (or write) about taking their children to pumpkin patches and cider mills. Who doesn't love pumpkin patches and cider mills? I know I do!

So I consider it rather (extremely) sad that none of my kids have ever been to either. The closest we have gotten is rummaging through a smallish box of misshapen, mostly pale peach colored pumpkins at the grocery store, which somehow feels less festive than strolling through a pumpkin patch.

When summer ends back home, you know it. (even if the weather is still scorching) Everywhere you go you find seasonal decoration. Brightly colored leaves hang from the ceiling in grocery stores, shops have harvesty window decorations and, of course the candy aisle reflects the changing seasons with fall colored packaging and Halloween candy.

In Poland you will find none of those things*. You are not hit with "It's fall!" in every store, office, library or school where you may be running errands. I miss being hit like that.

On the other hand, Poland does a pretty dang good job of decorating for fall. There may be no autumn ambiance indoors, but you feel it everywhere else. The air is crisp and mornings are often foggy (oh how I love foggy mornings!). The beautiful trees that I admire year round put on their most colorful apparel. Showers of leaves fall with every gust of wind and those leaves, horse chestnuts and acorns crunch underfoot everywhere you go.

I miss the human-enhanced sense of fall back home (which I know is accompanied by the beauty of what nature has to offer), but I also love the purity of the fall that is experienced here and find that it is enough.

Of course Halloween is a different story. Well, the same story, too, I guess. There are no Halloween decorations. There is no Halloween candy. There are no corn mazes or haunted houses.

But we do have these.


It takes a little time but admittedly very little effort (and no money) to have a collection of the best, most authentic Halloween decorations possible. Most of the time they are invisible, but go out in the darkening, chilly and misty evening and you will find them delightfully beaded with moisture and creepy as can be.

Also, I promise if I ever feel the urge to post any more pictures of fences I will start a separate fence blog on which to post them. (and I believe Erin asked what our fence looks like. Now you know. Boring, but pretty great for Halloween!) (and people keep asking if they're real. Yes, they are. Aren't spiders awesome?)

*at least not in our medium-small city

One. No, Two. . . THREE!!

Yesterday Aaron turned three. Just writing that makes me feel inexplicably weepy, so let's move along.

Aaron just LOVES Thomas the Tank Engine, or Tomek, as he's known in Polish. I happened to know this year that my mom would be giving him a Thomas DVD:

so for weeks before his birthday I thought about how great it would be to have a Thomas themed party. When it came time to make his cake, this is what I made:

Because Aaron also loves the color yellow, and I know my limits, which include making a train shaped/decorated cake. (apparently they also include adding enough food coloring to make a cake actually look yellow and cutting the corner of the plastic bag used for piping the right size. Oh and planning the writing so I can write a number three instead of spelling it out) Can I just tell you how light and fluffy this yellow cake. . . wasn't*?Good thing Greg's parents are Polish and are therefore not used to moist, light cake. They enjoyed it plenty.

So did the birthday boy!

To go along with the revised birthday theme Ev and Dave picked out some fancy presents.

Doesn't he look thrilled? He was in real life, though. He opened each of them up and said, "YELLOW!!" (So glad I didn't spend money and stress on Thomas stuff!)

Within five minutes of having opened it, the ball found itself, not on the balcony (or terrace, as Greg's parents call it) where we were, but over here:

See the yellow dot in the middle of the picture? That's the ball, in the neighbor's backyard. The other ball's ours, too. And you might think I based the cake colors on that house, but I swear it's a coincidence.

This is me doing what I do best.

No, not wearing brown in the Spring, closing eyes for pictures OR going six months without having my hair cut (thought I'm good at those things, too). EATING CAKE.

And this little boy is three months old (and a half) when his brother is turning three years old!

Yesterday, when Evie and her friend were going upstairs to play Aaron asked, "Aaron up-up, too?" Evie said he could go with them and he replied, "Oh, thank you! So nice!" He tells me I'm so nice for doing things like getting him juice and turning on a TV show he wants to watch.

Sometimes he answers yes or no questions like this: "Aaron, do you want to go back inside or not?" "Uuuummmm. Not."

He's careful not to offend people and when he wants to reject something he says things like, "How 'bout I don wannit?" Or "Leebeedeet (little bit) yummy, leebeedeet not yummy."

We can't believe he keeps getting sweeter and sweeter. He was never a fit thrower and he sits on the stairs when I give him time out and promptly apologizes when I come to get him out. If I don't go to Spencer soon after he starts crying Aaron gets upset and calls, "Mommy! Beh-doh (Spencer) SAD!"

We are shocked by his sudden explosion in the vocabulary department the last two months (I won't say "finally") and while my in-laws were here from Easter till yesterday he just started speaking Polish as if he'd known it all along.

For the past year, anytime he was asked how old he is in English (granted it was very infrequently) He always answered, "One! No. . . Two!!" Always. (and usually while holding up all five fingers). I had hoped when he turned three we could finally get him to just answer "three" but instead he answers what you see in the title. Oh well. Maybe when he turns four.

*The frosting was great, though. (I added a little extra sugar.)

Women

Happy Women's Day to all you great women!

One of my favorite women in the world came to visit this week. She's my mom and she was here for five days. She is such a pleasure to talk to. She is such a great grandma and I was reminded of my own childhood while she was here.

I'm so grateful my kids got to feel her love up close for a while in our own home. I appreciate that she came to be here and help out with Spencer's blessing and David's baptism yesterday. Having her here made those important moments even more special. I am proud she is my mom and I aspire to be like her in many ways.

So I think this holiday (which claims to be international but definitely skipped the U.S.) is supposed to be about men appreciating women, but I appreciate them, too. My mom and sisters, as well as all the good friends I keep here in my computer. Happy Day, Women!

Preparation

Yesterday I took the Christmas decorations down from the attic. We decorated the tree to Christmas carols and ate mint brownies. I think we're ready for Christmas. (except for the shopping. . . minor details).

While I was up there (in the attic, not the tree) I thought maybe I'd take down the baby clothes and stuff like that. You know, since I had an important reason to be up there anyway and everything. I sorted through them and now I just have to wash them. Last week I bought some doll sized diapers and wipes and nursing pads (that's everything, right?). I think we're ready for a baby.

Good thing too, since my doctor estimates he'll come in the next week and a half or so. Any day now, really. My strategy for preparing myself for giving birth is to not think about it until it starts to hurt. Clever, aren't I?

There was one other thing I've been pretty concerned about: Aaron. He's been the baby of the family and gets LOADS of attention, since Ev and Dave were pretty old (5 & 7 irrespectively) when he was born. He's excited every time we talk about having a baby in our house, but of course, I've been worrying a little about jealousy.

Last weekend we went to visit some friends in Warsaw who have a three month old baby. Liz (aka Lith, aka Anion,according to Aaron for some strange reason), the mother, was shadowed by Aaron almost the entire time we were there because he just couldn't get enough of little Ania and watching and "helping" Liz care for her.

I worried a little that he wouldn't want me or Greg to hold her, but the only issues of jealousy were expressed this way, "Aaron hold it!?! Aaron hold it, baby Ania!?!"

This picture, taken after at least five minutes of him sitting like this, sums up how Aaron feels about babies. I think he's ready to be a big brother.

Halloween in Poland

Well, they don't celebrate it. It's considered a very pagan American holiday (which is pretty much what it is, except I think it originated in England). Still, you can find a few Halloween decorations and costumes in large stores and probably some teens "celebrate" it in bigger cities.

We always do something at home, since there's no trick-or-treating. A couple of years ago the kids had a party and invited friends from school. They were all so confused when they saw Evie dressed as a ballerina. Ballerinas aren't scary! They thought you have to be something frightening.

As I say, I always try to do something Halloweenish. This year we did the usual stuff, but the kids made almost all the preparations.

"We" carved a pumpkin: Greg (who hates Halloween) did the artistic part, the kids scooped out the "monster teeth" (all while I took a nap). Note the little hanging decorations the kids made a few days ago for the stairs.

We played Halloween Bingo by candle light: the kids drew the pictures on the cards (spiders, witches hats, eyeballs etc.).

We played with slime: I just put the potato flour and water and bowls on the table and let them make it for themselves (no green food coloring or anything).

As usual I hid the candy around the living room and they searched for it by candle light.

Then we watched The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and ate dirt dessert with worms.

And there you have a lazy mother's Halloween.

******

As a heavily (95%) Catholic country, they celebrate All Saints day on November 1st and the Day of the Dead (not sure if that's what you call it in English) on the second. This is a very lovely holiday when everyone visits the graves of their loved ones. The cemeteries are amazing, all lit up with hundreds of candles. Even though we live far from the graves of any family members, we always visit a nearby cemetery just to walk around. It's magical. Here's proof (from a few years ago):

It's also a big drinking holiday (any excuse will do in Poland :), and as it falls on a Sunday this year we'll be staying off the roads, meaning no going to church. This is one of those holidays that they give statistics on the news every night about how many drunk drivers were stopped etc.

But those cemeteries are gorgeous.