Friday, November 26, 2010

Thanksgiving


When we imagined this adventure, I believed there was little I couldn't live without.



I believed in leaving behind our comfy life and embracing the unknown.


I know what it is like to live outside of my culture, to fall madly in love with that life and to be forever changed. (Viva México!) I lived in Mexico for six years, and had quite the grand adventure.


Now that we are a few months into this, I feel the pain from our old life ripping away, like a giant bandaid.

Oooowwww!!


I want to go home...


My ears are tired of this accent, I don't want to hear it anymore. I remember grocery shopping in Mexico and digging through piles of Mexican limes looking for the best ones and feeling like I was one or two limes away from going completely crazy. I can not possibly choose ONE more lime! 


I find myself cleaning this house and wondering why we moved so far away from home so that I could clean a different house.


And the thruthier thruth is that I barely cleaned our Tucson house. We had a housekeeper from heaven that managed it for us. She also did our laundry...in our two washers and two dryers.



Here it takes days and days and days.



And then someone wets the bed and it takes all day to wash and dry everything in our teensy w and d.


And I have to go to the launderette to get the pee out of those bigger items.



And I iron now, because the drycleaners/launderers is too expensive.


And school uniforms need ironing, turns out.


I know.


When we dreamed this dream, I didn't spend all day doing laundry.


And Mike had more time to workout, to play his banjo, to play his guitar.


And I wasn't sick to my stomach missing William and Anna.


 I have a fantasy/vision of life in a compound.


 I entertain myself imagining who will be included.


 Where will we live?


 Who will do the cooking?


 Who will look after the kids?


 Who will clean up?


I suppose, I can look at this time as preparation for the next part of life.


Dibs on the laundry, and you will all be doing your own ironing!

The photos are from a recent day in London. We drove into to town, hit the Natural History Museum, had lunch at The Bengal, got lost in the tube, and finally made our way back to the museum to watch the ice skaters and have a go on the carousel.

Peace be with you.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Assembly

Until last week, I had never been in a room with 150 four to seven year olds and have the loudest sound be the whisper of a teacher.

I have no idea how they do it.

Every day the children of Oaklands Infant School attend an assembly, and once a term, each class is featured. Parents are invited to attend, if they can manage to remember. Much to my dismay, a notice goes out ONCE, at the beginning of the fall term with all of the important dates and that's all she wrote. I am forever surprised and bewildered. I was LOST at the beginning of fall term, and I am still mostly lost. So when we had a parents' evening the other night to discuss the boys progress, I was dumbfounded to hear that the next morning was the Ash and Willow assembly. Auuugghh!

Dominic is straight up Ash, yo.

An Infant School includes children from reception year, or pre-K in the U.S., through year two, which is equivalent to first grade in the U.S. Dominic has 13 children in his class, and in January it will increase to 27. The children enter by term according to their birthdays. By law, children must start school the term after they turn 5. In this country, they teach these babies how to recognize and write the numerals one through ten, the sounds of the letters of the alphabet, and how to recognize the letters. They teach the children an action that goes with each letter sound. For example, the letter A, the action is walking your fingers of one hand up the opposite arm like an ant and saying ''a, a, a."  They play a lot of games with the children, and they teach a lot of nursery rhymes and songs. I have worked in the classroom and it is impressive how much the children know. Many of them know all of their sounds confidently. By the end of reception year, most of the children should be reading.

I find it all very interesting.

In Michael's class there are about 30 children (let's hear it for Beech Class! Whoop whoop!). He is in year two, and there is a big emphasis on reading and writing. The children have assigned homework once a week that is to take no longer than twenty minutes. Yesterday Michael had to write a book review. He needs help, so he tells me what he wants to say and I write for him. I absolutely love to hear his take on a book. His choice was Simply Delicious by Margaret Mahy.

This was his response to the question,
What did you dislike about the book, or think could have been better?

I didn't like the part when the ice cream cone went on the man's toenail, because it might have gotten dirty or smelly because he wanted to bring it to his son but his son would think it was dirty and smelly.
I disagree, of course. I thought that was the most intersting part of the story, and secretly I was hoping the thoughtful dad would be eaten by the tiger or the croc, but incredibly, he and the ice cream got away unscathed...

He is starting to ask me questions when we read at night. Did you like that book? Who is your favorite character, mom? Why?

I like the school's focus on reading, on thinking about the reading and asking questions.

Michael also has books in his book bag that we are to read every night. They change the books out once a week or so. All of the books feature the dullest cast of Biff, Chip, Kipper, Floppy, Mum and Dad. He hates them and so do I. But he is sounding out words and is able to sight read a short list. I am so proud of my little man. In the U.S. he would be learning to read with his classmates. Here he is two years behind.

By the way, the parent teacher meetings were interesting. They give each parent 10 MINUTES to discuss their child, to hear about the child's progress and to ask questions...

Ten minutes!

Mike doesn't do 10 minutes.

There is nothing Mike does that takes 10 minutes, except maybe brush his teeth. He is engaging and engaged, thoughtful, present and interested. He is relaxed and I am not. Anytime I saw Mike lean back in his chair, and start in with an observation or an aside....I could feel my blood pressure soaring as I compulsively watched the clock.

Don't I annoy you? I annoy me, that's for sure. It's amazing I heard anything at all, with all of that monitoring.

The good news is, we made it through our meetings, a little over time. I really really really like their teachers. They are warm and caring and professional. I couldn't have asked for better. I am very happy to report the boys are doing well. Dominic recognizes 12 of the alphabet sounds and Michael is making progress with his monumental task of attempting to catch up with his classmates. We are pleased.  

So nearing the end of Dominic's meeting, one of the teachers mentions that we will get to see what she is trying to explain tomorrow morning at the assembly...soooo glad she mentioned it! She also shares that he is popular and adorable, his accent is a hit.  They are entertained by his Americanisms, such as, "I have to go to the bathroom." and "bummer!"

Fast forward to next morning.

From my American point of view, the English school system keeps children quiet and orderly. Freakishly quiet and freakishly orderly.

Ash and Willow classes entered and seated themselves on benches at the head of the hall, with the teachers seated on the floor in front of the children. Then the rest of the 120 children walked in, single file by class. In complete silence, and in perfect order they seated themselves in tidy rows one at a time, on the floor with legs crossed. I need to mention here that hall is pronounced something like hole, Dominic helps me with my pronounciation.

What followed next was an interesting display of the children's work and accomplishments. Under the direction of one of the teachers seated just in front, the children stood one by one and shared a tidbit of their school experience. For example, one child stood and said, in a tiny voice after prompting from the teacher, "Hello, welcome to our program." Then the next child stood and said, "We are reading  the story of the Three Little Bears." Then the next child, "We looked for objects that were small, medium and large, like the bears." Then all the children stood at once and held up a paper covered with glued cutouts.



Mike and I were mesmerized.

This went on and on down the line, about 26 children in total.

Four of the children stood and acted out the story of the Three Billy Goats Gruff, with the rest of the children providing the chorus.

Each child tapped the syllables in their name with a pair of cylindrical sticks, and later these were used to tap along to a song. After each use the children very quietly set them down and no stick abuse occurred.

After all the children had completed their turn presenting, the head teacher, who is the equivalent of a school principal (that's princiPAL, who is your pal! not princiPLE...personally, I always felt it was creepy to hear the pricipal was my pal...) stood and congratulated the children. She recounted what the children did, and commented on different parts of the presentation and mentioned that the song they sang was her favorite song. She is lovely, kind, caring and most definitely in control of the room. After her words, she turned and said, "Shall we tell Ash and Willow well done?" To which everyone clapped. Then she thanked all the parents for coming, and said, "Shall we tell Ash and Willow well done, one last time?" And again, we all clapped. Any stray claps by the seated children were met with hissing ssshhhhh! by the respective teachers who hovered from nearby benches ready to silence anyone not feeling sensible.

Captive audience.
The next part was as amazing as anything that happened previously. The head teacher told Ash and Willow that they could select the order that the seated children could leave, by class, according to how sensibly they were seated. As each class was selected to leave, the children all stood, and by row, filed out in single file in total silence.

Mike is naughty. He just is. He had a dream once that he stuck his hand in a hole to see what was inside and a crab pinched him. That is how he is when he is awake as well. He is constantly poking into this and that to see what happens. He can't help himself.

So as all the children filed out with stone faces and in full sensible mode, Mike called to Michael to give him a high five.

It most definitely was not time for moving or speaking.




He left Mike hanging.

Troll.
Lastly the parents visited with their children and looked at the work they had presented. The well dones were flying. We smooched and hugged and loved on our boy. He was very proud of himself. Then Ash and Willow formed into lines and marched back to school.

Troll mask.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

No Tricks, Please!


Happy Halloween!
Happy Guy Fawkes Day!
(I know, I had never heard of it either.)

We had no idea what to expect on Halloween. We heard a lot of people say that it isn't a big deal here, that few families celebrate. We talked with the boys about it, and prepared them for the chance that it would be a dud. To be honest, I was nervous. I hate to see the boys disappointed. They are missing Tucson a lot. They miss their sister and brother, Grandma, cousins, friends, 2nd St. School and our house. Also our cats, toys, pool, jacuzzi, Martin's quesadillas, etc. etc. The other night Dominic put his little arms around my neck and said that he was going to close his eyes and pretend he was in our house in Tucson. I asked him what he was doing at home and he said he was in the living room, on the couch watching Sponge Bob, with me sitting next to him, giving him snuggles.

He is grieving and I wanted Halloween to be perfect. Pretty please, England!

Harry Potter and the curls of a ghoul.

It was perfectly perfect!


We live in a neighborhood that is a string of cul de sacs along a main road. It was true that few of the homes showed signs of celebrating, but there were just enough to walk around for an hour, fill a bucket half way and enjoy the night. It had rained all day, but it cleared up and the weather was perfect.  We may have even seen a star. I can't remember. Last night I saw the moon. We don't get much of the night sky here.


Something I thought was curious, was the adult response to the kids saying,

''Trick or Treat?!" 

Nervous laugh followed by emphatic "No tricks, please!!"

I wanted to say, ''Are you serious?''

The ghoul/death eater needed to peek out now and then.


Halloween surprised and delighted me. Mike and I were the only adults accompanying children not in costume. I felt naked. Everyone was friendly, warm and happy. It was just what I needed. After we hit the last house (which was the woman who we met when we first moved in, the one who said, "This is worst mistake of you life!", she is featured in earlier post called ''Neighborly'') I felt like my empty tank had been refilled. I needed to see people laughing and smiling and having fun. I needed to see people happy to see us and happy to see our children. I needed to see English people being silly.

This is our pumpkin, gurning and mutilated.
I think it's frightening.

Happy as hell.
And then there's Guy Fawkes Day...

This isn't it.
Polite notice.
Every year on November 5th since 1605, England commemorates The Gunpowder Plot by burning Guy Fawkes in effigy and going absolutely bonkers with fireworks.



Guy Fawkes belonged to a group of provincial Catholics and in 1604 he became involved in a plot to assasinate the protestant King James, and replace him with his daughter, Princess Elizabeth. Following an annonymous tip, authorities searched Westminster Palace and Guy Fawkes was caught guarding a bunch of gunpowder. He was tortured and came clean. He jumped from the scaffold at the moment of his execution and broke his neck, avoiding the experience of being hung, drawn and quartered. Click on that link if you want the gruesome details...


The fireworks happened right over our heads. I loved it.

We attended the celebration at the boys' school. There was mulled wine, beer, super nasty hot dogs and hamburgers, and lots of sparkley things to buy.

Fosters!



We had our choice of places to celebrate. In every school there are fireworks, and also nearby towns celebrate at well. The fireworks were not as big as 4th of July displays, but there were countless smaller displays. I was told that this used to be hosted by individual families, a backyard drunk-fest with bon fire and firecrackers. Health and Safety ruins everything.

Dominic with his pal Archie.



Michael lost in the smoke.

A remarkable feature of this night, it that all over Crowthorne, and I imagine this includes all of England, there are so many exploding fireworks, the entire town is smokey. It was dense and foggy, and the cracking went on well into the night.


So, I want to wish you all a belated Happy Halloween and Happy Guy Fawkes Day! I send love and hugs and kisses and squeezes to my babies. I miss you and yours my Niddy and everyone else you know who you are. I send you lots of love, and we will be thinking of our American friends and family celebrating Thanksgiving soon!!

Monday, November 8, 2010

El Túnel - THE END!

THE END

It is now Thursday night, time to pack up our stuff and get ready to leave in the morning. We need to leave the cottage clean so we can save the 40€ cleaning fee. Six nights flew by.

Wait, six nights? Why only six nights?

I know, it confuses me too. How can a week rental be only six nights? If you have six nights, then you have seven days and that makes a week...hmmmm....so confusing.

My husband figured it out.

"Anne!! The rental is for seven nights! Not six!!"

So we have another day??!

What a dumbshit. I blame my mother for my dyslexic brain...


Back to the beach! It is nippy outside, but mostly sunny.


Dominic frolicked like a happy bunny, kicking up his legs and dancing all over the beach.



















The boys wanted to get in again, so Mike ran back to the cottage for their swim suits.

Meanwhile, the clouds started to roll in.

And it started raining.

This is for Jim!!!

55 degree water

How much warmer does the water feel
with shoes and your coat?








So, we got to do five things on my list:
  • Nantes, with the home of Anne of Brittany.
  • Go to the beach, although getting in the ocean was not a plan.
  • Mont St. Michel.
  • Eat crepes and stinky cheese.
  • Experience Breton food...
I really wanted to see the dolmen and rock formations. There are many extraordinary megalithic sites in Brittany, and although I'm disappointed, we live 1/2 hour from Stonehenge.

Thanks for sharing our adventures, from the craptastic days to the thrills, both planned and unexpected.