Carnival

We just got back home from celebrating Carnival at my parents' place (on the Spanish border), where we were greeted by a glorious spring day. The weather was as close to perfect as I could imagine. The little guy had a grand time dressing up as the "Mystery Musketeer". He had his heart set on being Zorro this year but we couldn't find a costume his size. Well, that's a lie. Truth is we couldn't find a cheap Zorro costume his size. I knew a local shop was having a clearance sale on costumes and told him that it was the only place in town where we could get the outfit. They were on sale for just 2€!!! No Zorro, so we settled on a musketeer costume instead. But to make up for my fib I got him a black cowboy hat and a Zorro mask, thus the Mystery Musketeer. I think he looked really cute and deserves an oscar for his performance today. We hit the medieval streets of my parents' town for the photo shoot. Hope you enjoy!

The grand entrance... (oops! no horse!)



Up to the castle to save the princess!



Fear not! I'll protect you, my lady.

A viagem do caracol

Um caracol que vivia num palácio de folhas tinha um grande sonho: fazer uma viagem à volta do mundo. Mas tinha um problema porque tinha medo de voar e ficou muito triste. Mas depressa voltou a sorrir quando se lembrou da amiga baleia. Foi ter com ela e perguntou:

- Ó amiga baleia, ajudas-me a atravessar o mar?

- Sim! Partimos já amanhã - disse a baleia.

Anoiteceu e o caracol e a baleia foram para a cama. Quando o despertador tocou, o caracol e a baleia foram dar a volta ao mundo.

Autor: Zezé

Moral da história: Com a ajuda dos amigos sentimo-nos capazes de ultrapassar os obstáculos e seguimos em frente na concretização dos nossos sonhos.

Sunday singing...

50 Ways to Leave Your Lover - Paul Simon (with drummer Steve Gadd)

...while doing some chores around the house. My cleaning lady didn't show up this week. Great! What with working Saturday mornings, having to do laundry & grocery shopping and now tidying up a very messy house, there goes the weekend. So, I've been waltzing around the house singing my little heart away. The little guy thinks I'm bonkers and has already let me know that I would be an embarrassment to him if any of his buddies saw me in this state. Chill out, old man! Moms are entitled to let their hair down every once and a while.

You just slip out the back, Jack
Make a new plan, Stan
You don’t need to be coy, Roy
Just get yourself free
Hop on the bus, Gus
You don’t need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Lee
And get yourself free

How can you not sing to this? A classic! I think I'm going to get the little guy to sing along with me.

Isn't this so cute?

As I told you in a post, the little guy is in love. At first I thought it was so sweet. But now I'm getting kind of nervous. Check out this article in yesterday's Guardian.

German lovers - aged six and five - try to elope to Africa

It is a dream that has been shared by lovers across the centuries – the chance to elope to exotic lands. But few would have been as bold and spontaneous as six-year-old Mika and his five-year-old sweetheart Anna-Bell who, after mulling over their options in secret, packed their suitcases on New Year's Eve and set off from the German city of Hanover to tie the knot under the heat of the African sun.

The children left their homes at dawn while their unwitting parents were apparently sleeping, and took along Mika's seven-year-old sister, Anna-Lena, as a witness to the wedding.

Donning sunglasses, swimming armbands and dragging a pink blow-up lilo and suitcases on wheels packed with summer clothes, cuddly toys and a few provisions, they walked a kilometre up the road, boarded a tram to Hanover train station and got as far as the express train that would take them to the airport before a suspicious station guard alerted police.

"What struck us was that the little ones were completely on their own and that they had lots of swimming gear with them," said Holger Jureczko, a police spokesman. He described Mika and Anna-Bell as "sweethearts" who had "decided to get married in Africa where it is warm, taking with them as a witness Mika's sister".

Anna-Bell told the German television station RTL: "We wanted to get married and so we just thought: 'Let's go there.' "

Mika said: "We wanted to take the train to the airport, then we wanted to get on a plane and when we arrived we wanted to unpack the summer things and then we wanted to go for a bit of a stroll in the sun."

Mika and Anna-Lena's mother, who was not identified, said she had known nothing of her children's plan. "I'm still in a state of shock. I thought 'I'm playing a part in a bad movie.' When we realised the kids were missing we went looking for them." But only when the police called did they realise what had happened.

Asked why they failed to let their parents know, the children said they thought they would not be gone for long.

Mika told police he instigated the plan having been inspired by a winter holiday with his family in Italy. "Based on this the children began to make plans for the future," Jureczko said.

To allay their disappointment at being caught, Hanover police gave them a tour of the police headquarters. Jureczko said: "They'll have the chance to put their plan into action at a later date".

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/jan/05/german-children-elope-mika-annabel

Do you remember your first love? I do! His name was Johnny and we were in senior kindergarten together. We used to put our boots side by side and walk hand in hand everywhere we went. I still wonder whatever happened to him.

My son the writer

That's right, folks! The little guy has just finished his first book and I got an autographed copy. Not a thriller, to my disappointment, but I should probably be relieved he's not thinking about psychopaths at this young age. It's called "The Little Bat" and it's one of those open-ended stories where the reader decides on the ending. I think he was sweating over which ending to choose, so he just cheated. Now, the ingenious lad brought a new concept into the literary world. You do not write a book, work on illustrations, and then publish it. No! No! No! First you have to make the book yourself. Get out the paper, scissors and stapler. Now you gotta remember that you write text on one page, just a line or two, and a picture on the other page. Get it? As you're writing the book make sure you ask mommy how you spell every single word in the damn story. Mind you, mom's have nothing better to do with their time, and if they say they're busy, don't believe them. Punctuation? Forget about! Saramago is not into punctuation either and he won a Nobel Prize. And then....give it to your mom first cause she'll burst into tears, hug you like crazy (that might hurt a bit) and tell you that it's going to be a besteseller. And most importantly, make sure she pays for the book because, after all, you're in it for the money.

Cheeky little bugger did make me cry and then made me pay €5!

Back to School

Hold on! Not just yet. Still have another week of holiday bliss, plus the little guy only starts mid-September. But it's that time of year that I love...back-to-school shopping! Today I went to do my weekly grocery shopping and headed straight for the "Back to School Section". Beautiful! All those gorgeous pens, markers, crayons, notebooks, binders... And so new. I was in heaven. I dragged the little guy with me so he could join in on the excitement. Oh mom! Can't I just wait in the toy section? No, you cannot!!! So, I ask him if he needs some new felt tip pens. Says no, but would love a Ninja Turtle. How about a new pencil case? Nope! Power Ranger? Grrrrr.... Absolutely no excitement at all! What is wrong with him? He's such a good student, loves school, loves reading but could care less about school supplies. Is this just a girl thing? Or is it cuz I'm just a boring old teacher?

Cool Mama

The other day my son caught me wearing an apron and he was in absolute shock. The little guy actually had the nerve to say, "Wow, mom, you look really cool. You look like a real woman!" Excuse me? What the f***! Where in the world did he get this idea that women wear aprons. Surely not from home! Doesn't mean I don't do my share of domestic tasks, actually I do more than my share. I just don't like aprons. I prefer changing into some scruffy jeans and old faded t-shirt when I get home to tackle the kitchen.

This is not the first time that he's tried to cocoon me into a more stereotypical role. He used to drive me crazy because I don't wear a wedding band. I stopped wearing my ring ages & ages ago. Shortly after getting married my husband told me he was going to stop wearing his cuz he doesn't like jewellery. Cool, I said, then I'll stop wearing mine. It was quite liberating, in fact. I got a real kick out of the reaction I'd get from people for not wearing a wedding ring. My mother-in-law, for one. It was ok that my husband wasn't wearing his. After all he's a guy. I was the big "sinner". Later on, when I started fertility treatments at the hospital, because it was through NHS, I was so afraid they wouldn't believe I was married and might somehow refuse me treatment, so I went back to wearing it. I know this sounds stupid! But I wouldn't jeopardise any chance of getting pregnant and there were times when I got a little (ok, quite a bit) paranoid about things. The ring came right off when I did finally get pregnant.

So, when my little guy was around 3 or 4 he started giving me the third degree. But he was too young to understand that his mom was just a mild rebel at heart. He doesn't bother me any more now, except on the few occasions when he says he's going to buy me a ring when he grows up. One day he'll see that being a little unconventional is what sets us apart.

Rings and aprons? No, thank you. Not for me! I don't need those things to be one cool mama!

One happy camper

It was the little guy's 7th birthday yesterday. A house full of kids, poor little old me sweating & slaving over a hot BBQ, after an afternoon spent baking all the goodies, catering to the needs of lots of hungry little boys, and trying to look cheerful at the same time - not an easy task, folks! But I managed to survive.

He wanted a picnic by the river, but I put my foot down. Imagining all worst-case scenarios, there was no way I would even consider the responsability of watching over a horde of kids in such a treacherous place (ok, a little exaggeration here). So we settled on a picnic & BBQ in our own backyard. He'd always begged me to get a picnic table for the garden, after hearing so many of my childhood stories. So grandpa built him one just like the one he had built for me many years before. When I saw it, for a split second there, I was seven years old myself.

The little guys had a blast! Big guy and I decided to have dinner inside and leave them to their own thing, except for when they'd be shouting "Will you bring us some more coke! We're running out of fries! Where's the ketchup? What's taking so long?!?" So, basically, we were running in and out of the house the whole time, as good servants do.

Cutting away from the traditional birthday cake, it was chocolate fudge cake, covered in smarties, with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream on the side. A beautiful picture-perfect moment with chocolate-covered toothless smiles. Then it was lining them up one by one to wash those filthy hands & mouths before they had a chance to add a fingerprint motif to my lovely white walls.

As I said, I lived to tell. It was a hell of a lot of work but worth every drip of sweat. Moments like these were what my deams were made of. There was no way I was going to miss out on the fun.

Friday Flower

Little Blue Daisies

By Ajay Das Gupta

Little blue daisies
in my flowerbed
First came the ladybird
red red red
Fly away ladybird
said the daisy blue
Poor little ladybird flew flew flew

Then came the grasshopper
green green green
He hid in the leaves
not to be seen
Hop away grasshopper,
said the daisy blue
Poor little grasshopper
Went hop, hop hop

Third came the bumblebee
black black black
Humming to himself
a brand new song
Fly away bumblebee, said
the daisy blue
Poor little bumblebee
went buzz buzz buzz

Fifth came the butterfly
flap flap flap
Welcome cried the daisy
clap clap clap

It's the little guy's birthday, so today's Friday Flower is dedicated to him. Blue daisies are the flowers my husband gave me the day he was born. Although he knows I don't like receiving flowers, much prefering potted plants, an exception was opened for the birth of our little guy. Daisies cuz there my favourite flower and blue for our little boy.

(Pssst...to be honest, I would have prefered white daisies, but it's the thought that counts.)

We are the Champions

This song is dedicated to two very special IVF boys, who happen to share a birthday. Two moms rejoice today with tender sweet memories of when these guys came kicking their way into their lives. A toast to you, Hope, and to our miracle boys!

Tasmanian Devil

If anyone is out there looking for the tasmanian devil you can find him here at my place. That's what my son has turned into since school finished. He was such a sweet, well-behaved little boy (ok, I'm exaggerating a bit...a lot), but now he's a little monster. I think this is the result of too much energy, combined with lack of playmates.

Today he wasn't too bad. We took him out to the river, where they've got extreme sports for children. A "kiddie" bungee jump and a bit of kayacking with his dad up-river did the trick. He's completely starved & knackered. That's the way us moms like to see them. But we can't do this every day and tomorrow is the start of another work week. I might still have to find an activity centre that will take him in for the rest of the month cuz he gets bored stiff when he has to hang out at my school. I really should have seen this coming.

Don't mess with Major Mom!

Ok, I had a bad night's sleep. Went to bed really late last night cuz I wanted to finish off a translation so it wouldn't be looming over my head throughout the weekend. Thought I could sleep in a bit today, but I thought wrong. With my parents over for a few days, forget what I want to do. It's all about HER! The Commander-in-chief! Major MOM.

At 6:30 in the morning she walks into my bedroom, without knocking I might add, saying that I have to get up immediately to run some errands with her. WTF (*), I thought. Am I back at summer camp? Had it been anybody else attempting a stunt like this, I would have knocked them over the head with the bedside lamp! But you don't mess with mom. You can probably get away with it when you're 4, but certainly not when you're (nearly) 40. So, I practically jumped to my feet to salute her.

I sometimes find myself wondering about all that power that moms exert, in an almost military fashion. Just observe a grown man when he's around his mom. He turns into a little puppy, begging for a bone. Does he challenge Major Mom? Absolutely not! He fears for his life. I wonder if that's part of the appeal that draws us to motherhood.

I'm a bit of a Major Mom at home, as well. I confess! I'm well aware of that. I try really hard to be one of those laid-back moms that doesn't fuss over every little thing, but sometimes it's stronger than me. For one, it's schedules and routines. It's military punctuality that I instill here at home. Sometimes my husband tells me to chill out a little. He says "Just relax! It won't kill him if he's a few minutes late for school." And I try to do just that, but then I get this uneasiness building up inside, the clock tick-tocking away and I can't control myself. I go into military mode, shouting "Hurry up! Get those sock on! Brush your teeth! Swallow down your breakfast! March down those stairs! Hup two three four!".

So, I just figured it out! We will do anything it takes, even enduring the pain of fertility treatments, because we want to be Major Mom!

(*) What the fuck!

What are little boys made of?

"Snips and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails

That's what little boys are made of!"

Mother Goose Rhymes

Little boys are odd creatures. They are at their happiest when covered in soot, from head to toe, with grime collecting under their nails, snotty noses, easily wiped on their forearms, and personalised finger-printed t-shirts. Being the mom of a (nearly) seven-year old has certainly been quite a learning experience.

Now I understand where that old saying comes from: "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach". Part of the growing-up process involves the development of their olfactory senses (at a very early stage). Yesterday we decided to try out our new fancy-schmancy gas barbeque. I had some spare ribs and chicken on the grill & last minute decided to throw in some sausages (the little guy's favourite). Meanwhile, my son was leaning over on the fence, chatting away to his 2 pals from across the street.

One of the boys called out "What's that smell?".

My son answered "Oh it's just my mom testing out her new barbeque".

"What's she cooking? Smells good."

He came running over to check & went back to fill him in on his findings.

To which the little boy replied sadly, "Gosh, you're lucky. We're going to have fish."

I was listening in to the conversation and, at this point, decided to step in and told my son to invite his little friends over. In the meantime, I decided to throw in some fries as I'm quite familiar with the size of little boy's tummies. I gave them a plate of sausages and, had just turned my back for a second, when I noticed that they had gobbled them all down. Wow! Hummm! Would there be enough food at this pace? Luckily, I remembered I still had some brownies in the fridge, which would do just fine for dessert. Don't even ask me what those three little boys looked like after getting their hands on some barbequed meat. FILTHY!

Today I took my son to school with me. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to take him to work with me thoughout July. It's nice to have him around, but so difficult to keep him entertained while I'm working. Also, it's hard making him aware that his behaviour has to be different in my work space. It's not like being at home. So, I tell him that he just has to regard me as a teacher when he's at school with me. Well, I was in the middle of a class today and had left him in the computer room playing some games. All of sudden he came storming into my classroom and shouted "Sorry, teacher mom! I can't hold it any longer... can I go pee?" The class just burst out laughing, but I was all flustered as I ushered him out the door, reminding him that he doesn't have to ask permission to perform his basic bodily functions. JUST GO!

Boys will be boys, they say! And I do so love my little boy!

The Maze of Life

I read a lovely post in my friend Hope's blog which inspired me to publish my little guy's drawing. The other day, as part of his end-of-year test (can't understand why 1st graders actually need to be tested, but that's material for another post), he was asked to illustrate his representation of life. If you ask me, that's a pretty heavy-duty topic for a 6-year-old with hardly any life experience. Anyhow, I think he came up with a magnificent depiction of life's treacherous ways through a maze. Ok, I know, I'm his mom and I think everything he does is wonderful. But just bear with me here.

You have to start at the top left, where you find a little pink fish (actually, facing the wrong direction) that has to find his way through the maze to get to the pond because fish can't survive out of water. Along the way he has to collect "suns" and avoid the "storms". I asked him why there so many suns and so few storms and he said that's just how life is (the naivety of children). He said the fish will also find lots of other beautiful things throughout his journey - a castle full of treasures, love, balloons (celebrations).

My son is a very logical thinker and practically all his pictures involve mazes or some sort of problem-solving task, not always obvious to the observer. It's a personality trait. He loves chess, chinese checkers, monopoly & any type of strategy game. His teacher gave him a "C" for this picture because she couldn't understand it without his explanation and the picture had to be crystal clear. Excuse me, but what do you expect when you give kids a topic like this? She wanted something more along the lines of a house, trees, birds, flowers, etc.

I told my son not to worry because I was ever so proud of the creativity put into this thought-provoking drawing.

You win some, you lose some

Switzerland 2 - 0 Portugal

My son is heartbroken, but learning to accept defeat is part of growing up.

Monday Memory

My mom used to pack me the most delicious lunches, and I'm almost positive that I had a Flintstones lunchbox. I was a Pebbles fan! Now it's my turn to put a lot of love & care into my son's packed lunches. I'm loving it!

My Sister's Keeper

I just read that a film version of Jodie Picoult's novel "My Sister's Keeper" is about to come out. Directed by John Cassavetes and starring Cameron Diaz & Alec Baldwin. Dakota and Elle Fanning were originally set to play the sisters but Dakota changed her mind when she found out she would have to shave her head to play the leukemia-suffering character of Kate. Elle dropped out along with her sister, and they were replaced with Sofia Vassilieva and Abigail Breslin.

Although, Jodie Picoult is not the type of writer that would normally appeal to me, I found "My Sister's Keeper" an unputdownable tearjerker. I cried for beginning to end.

"Anna is not sick, but she might as well be. By age thirteen, she has undergone countless surgeries, transfusions, and shots so that her older sister, Kate, can somehow fight the leukemia that has plagued her since childhood. The product of preimplantation genetic diagnosis, Anna was conceived as a bone marrow match for Kate -- a life and a role that she has never challenged...until now. Like most teenagers, Anna is beginning to question who she truly is. But unlike most teenagers, she has always been defined in terms of her sister -- and so Anna makes a decision that for most would be unthinkable, a decision that will tear her family apart and have perhaps fatal consequences for the sister she loves.My Sister's Keeper examines what it means to be a good parent, a good sister, a good person. Is it morally correct to do whatever it takes to save a child's life, even if that means infringing upon the rights of another? Is it worth trying to discover who you really are, if that quest makes you like yourself less? Should you follow your own heart, or let others lead you? Once again, in My Sister's Keeper, Jodi Picoult tackles a controversial real-life subject with grace, wisdom, and sensitivity."

http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides3/my_sisters_keeper1.asp

International Children's Day

How about celebrating International Children's Day by sponsoring a child?

Change a child's life forever

Your sponsorship could give a child like Chikonde the chance to go back to school, be kept safe with their family and build a secure future for themselves."We have to beg to survive...most people think we are just naughty kids who don't want to go to school. But that's wrong. We do want to study but we have to survive first". Chikonde (aged 12), Malawi

Visit EveryChild to find out more about child sponsorship.

Bump on the head

I went to pick up the little guy at school today for our ritual Tuesday lunch. I took one look at his forehead and nearly fainted. I'm usually so cool under pressure, except when it comes to accidents & illnesses. I freak out completely, imagining all worst-case scenarios possible.

A typical little boy thing, though. He was in the playground during recess and a big kid - grade 4, can you believe it? - ran into his forehead. Actually, sinking his teeth into his forehead, thus the nasty looking bump. No, not a pretty picture indeed. But little boys revel in these things, unlike their squeamish moms, secretely hoping for scars that'll make them look really tough.

My heart skipped a beat once again. But as Gloria Gaynor so nicely puts it, "I will survive".

Friday Flower

The daisy's name comes from the Anglo-Saxon "daes eage," or "day's eye," which refers to the way the flower opens and closes with the sun. The daisy is known as a symbol of childhood innocence and is said to originate from a Dryad who presided over forests, meadows, and pastures. Roman mythological legend tells us that the nymph Belides, as she danced with the other nymphs at the edge of the forest, caught the eye of Vertumnus, the god of the orchards. To escape his unwanted attention, she transformed herself into the flower bellis, which is the daisy's botanical name.

The message that daisies bring are of innocence, purity, and gentleness on behalf of both the giver and the receiver.

I'm completely distraught by some news I received today. A little boy from my son's school has been diagnosed with leukemia. The doctors here can no longer do anything for him, so the parents took him to the US, where an American clinic offered the only hope for survival. Money, of course, is the big issue, so we're all rolling up our sleeves and putting together a collection, with events and activities to raise enough money to keep the flame burning. Life can be a bitch. My heart goes out to these parents. I don't even want to imagine their pain.

My little boy is also coming down with something. He's got a runny nose and a slight fever. Nothing serious (knock on wood), but after hearing about this little boy that's enough to make a nervous wreck out of me.