Out for tapas

This is the fun part about having a baby in Madrid.

Tapas with mamá and papá

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not my proudest moment

These were not the kids I yelled at.

Let me set the scene for you.  Today Esther and I went for a walk to the rec center by our house.  There is a large outside area with trees and benches.  There are grass and cement soccer fields on either side.  Esther loves it there because it is filled with kids running around, parents standing together chatting, kids playing soccer or tennis.  You can almost hear her as she walks up to people and stops right in front of them:

¨Hi my name is Esther, what is your name.¨

She made a friend, a little 9 year old girl Alba (Esther learned to say her name- Abba) and they were playing together.  Esther was almost hit by a soccer ball that flew over the fence.  We kept playing and after the kids kicked the 5 th ball over the 15 foot fence we went elsewhere to play, and the benches cleared out.  When we went back to get our things another ball missed Esther by 3 inches.  I stomped over to the fence and the 2 kids (one about 9 years old and the other 15 years old), and I started yelling,

¨Are you kidding me, it is not normal to be kicking the ball that many times over the fence, you almost hit my daughter twice.  If you are really that bad at playing soccer, then maybe you should not be playing.¨

It was that last part I felt bad about.  The young kid, who I was not yelling at, was pointing to his friend and mouthing, ¨it wasn´t me.¨

We left, I felt like a jerk.  Alba said a sheepish goodbye and her parents looked a little surprised.

Luckily this is Spain, and people yell at  each other in the streets all the time.  What I sometimes forget is that I am not Spanish and I do not normally yell at people in the street. . .

Well except for that other time there was a guy beating his dog on the street below my window.  The only results were:

1- him seeing me in my underwear as I screamed out the window from the 6th floor and

2- that he yelled back at me that my husband should beat me.

I  think it may not be the most effective form of communication.

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My husband

Pana, as his high school friends call him, The Hunk, as he is known at my Mom´s work, The Machine, what his climbing friends call him and Diesel, what his skiing buddies call him;

Loves to eat beans

Has gas

Has started a new sit up regime.


You can just imagine the scene at our house.

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A Day in the Life

Esther and I have a pretty good thing going.  This was our day today.

(Ivan requests that you do not notice his belly in this video, it almost did not make the cut for this reason)

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We went outside a few times, had a nap, ate some food, played with the cats, but you get the idea.  Miss you all.

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Tooting my own horn

So sometimes I want to write a post and add some wonderful, perfectly well lit pictures-  then I take those pictures.  It does not come out as I plan.

Here are some things I am quite good at.

1) Speaking Spanish

2) Baking chocolate chip cookies

3) French braiding

4) Organizing other people´s stuff

5) Cleaning the house

6) Making people feel comfortable

7) Relaxing in bed for hours on end

8) Being a nurse

9) Saying funny things

Things I am not so good at

1) Having a sense of direction and remembering how to get places I have been

2) Accepting rejection

3) Cooking fish

4) Making art

5) Remembering historical facts

6) Getting through Classic Literature

7) Saying no to people asking things of me

8) Posing for pictures

9) Controlling my anger (per my husband)

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Cake Day

I would not want to be doing anything but staying home with Esther, we have a pretty fun time together. However, I have found that being a stay at home mom leaves most days full of busy work (house cleaning, corralling the baby, trying to read, thinking about cooking a meal and sometimes actually following through, cleaning up after the cats. . . ), but there are few days where I think, ¨Today I really did it all.¨ There are even fewer days when someone comes along and says, ¨Wow, I can´t believe you got dressed and made lunch today while keeping the baby alive all day.¨

I have found a bit of outside entertainment that keeps me on track (ie: I have to clean the house get dressed at least once a week), pays pretty well, and I get praise from people I don´t even know. For a gal who likes to be told ´good job´ at least 100 times a day, it is the perfect arrangement.

What is it? ? ? Making cakes. Well really only one cake a week, but it is the perfect thing.

I make a delicious chocolate layer cake with ganache and a mascarpone filling for this great little pizza place in town. This week I got a second order for a party someone is throwing.

Today I made two, the cakes get a little less lopsided with each week and if I did not make it myself I may say it is the perfect chocolate cake.

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Jueves Santo

We are in the middle of Semana Santa in Spain. Today Esther and I made an attempt to go to mass at the lovely church in the little town by my house.

We got there early and an elderly gentleman followed us in and asked about the mass, what time it starts, what´s happening tomorrow. . . we peaked inside the church together and then headed out to the rainy courtyard to wait. Along came an elderly woman in her long fur coat and her umbrella and asked us what time the mass was going to start. We all were chatting for a few minutes, she asked if I was the man´s daughter in law and Esther his grand-daughter. We cleared up the confusion and said an, ¨hasta luego.¨

It started raining really hard and Esther and I came home to get dry. Maybe we will try again tomorrow.

That is one of my favorite things about my neighborhood, it is a pretty old group of folks and they love to be out and strike up conversations
. Esther and I join in when we can.

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