Bom Carnaval, Brazil

It's Carnaval here in Brazil, and do you know what that means?  Well, yes, it does mean boobs and butts, but that's not what I meant. I'm talking about another week off of school for my darling children. Since my husband works seventy days a week, the kids and I will be enjoying spending a lot of time together at home instead of partying in Rio. But I'm not bitter. I welcome the opportunity, because it's been WEEKS since my kids were home for the long summer break. Jack's band has barely had a chance to practice since school started back up, so they're planning on catching up during the break. Don't hate me because I've got free live music at my house 24/7.

The end of Carnaval on Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, and even though we are no longer practicing Catholics, it's still kind of fun to think of things to give up for Lent.

Mitch:  What are you giving up for Lent?

Kate: My sunny disposition.

Mitch:  You cannot give up that which you do not have.

Kate:  Shut up, as*hole.

Mitch:  **crickets (and a smirk)

Valentine's Day is also coming up, and although I think Valentine's Day sucks, I wrote about it for work and even made up my own special valentines, which you can print out and use for yourself, if you're so inclined. They're very romantical!

Math

Grace:   "Jack!"

Grace:  "JAAAACK!"

Me: "What is it Grace?"

Grace: "Nothing.  I just need Jack."

Grace:  "JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

Jack, from the depths of the house:  "What?!"

Grace:  "I need some help with my homework!"

Me:  "I can help you, Grace."

Grace:  "No, that's okay, mom.  It's math."

So, that's nice.

What I Did on My Summer Vacation

I know, I suck at updating this blog.  Being chained to a desk and forced to write and do other stuff day in and day out has taken some of the joy out of it (cobblers' kids have no shoes and whatnot), but there's one thing my work blog doesn't have, and that's profanity!  So, I'm back, if only to drop an eff bomb on y'all.

The summer break was loooooong, like six weeks or something, but it may as well have been six months. That jerkwad, Santa, brought my kids a real drum kit and a super-loud guitar amp and Jack decided  it was time to start a garage band. I spent most of the break with bleeding eardrums. Also, teenaged boys eat a lot. It probably didn't help that  I kept making them food to try and entice them out of the practice room.

Because my husband works nine days a week, we didn't go on any vacations, just a few day trips. We spent one day checking out Oscar Niemeyer's famous landmarks around Brasilia. 

 Catedral Metropolitana Nossa Senhora Aparecida,
or "Church of the Standing Rib Roast"

This is weird, not sure what I'm doing with my hair, but
Grace is definitely rocking her Brazil Look.
Anyway, what is with that fried egg in/on the window?

The National Museum




I call this piece: Four Children: Happy On The Inside

Here we are in front of some of Niemeyer's other buildings on different day:

 We also spent a day in Pirenópolis, a town about two hours away. It's known for it's colonial architectcure and cobblestone streets.  For you Washington State peeps, it's like the Leavenworth of Brazil, complete with river rafting and zillions of souvenir shops. I loved it, and wrote about it here.



These freaky cow-people thingies are all over the town.
Pay no attention to my hair. The humidity was at 90% that day.



There was lots of stuff to buy. That's Olivia on the left with her two friends. 
Guess what they bought?



First Church of Our Lady of the Rosary

 Quaint and cobblestone-y



A real live vaqueiro (cowboy)! You won't find those in Leavenworth.

 On the way home from Pirenopolis, we stopped at a waterfall, because, duh, that's what you do in Brazil on the way home from places. It was very waterfall-y.

And FINALLY, on Wednesday, the children went back to school. Here they are waiting for their corrections officer the bus (it looks like Jack is beating Henry up for his lunch money already-so adorable!):

YESSSSS! Fuck, that was a long break  (You didn't think I would forget, did you?).

Summer Break: Part One Zillion

My kids are still on break for another week (plus a day, but at this point, who's counting?  Me. I'm counting. And eight days is a long time, yo.).  It's the rainy season, so there's not a lot to do besides jump on the wet trampoline.  Still, the kids have found a few ways to keep themselves occupied that don't involve xBox or Netflix.

Meet Karol. She will come to your house and give you a massage or a mani/pedi for a very good price. And yes, I am well aware that moving back to the US is going to be difficult on my pampered little ladies.

 

Click on this pic if you want to see some adorbs polka dot nails.

 

The boys have been super busy doing important boy things:

Other things we've been doing include.....well, I can't think of anything right now, but we've been terribly busy, I know, because I'm pretty tired at the end of the day. Oh! I know. Every day I like to see how many hours are left until school starts (as of this minute, it's 184).  I've also made the happy discovery that if you drop a baked-yesterday chocolate chip cookie onto a  hot nonstick frying pan for a minute, wonderful things happen to it.  It's even better if you drop FIVE chocolate chip cookies onto a hot frying pan, because then, when you are thinking you'd like to eat one more, there are four all ready for you.

2012

Usually, on the last day of every year, I blog about the resolutions I have no intention of keeping. This year, however, I got paid to do it ( I know! Soon they will be sorry they hired me, and I'll be back at home, eating bonbons like the good Lord intended), and I don't want to repeat myself for that one reader who reads both this blog and our embassy blog, so there will be no ridiculous resolutions this year on Pulling Stakes.

However, I don't want to ignore the passage of another year. Okay, I lied, I would love to ignore the passage of 2012, because it was an asshole.  I lost my mom and my children's first home (my uterus, get it?), and spent most of the year in pain of one kind or another. But! Whenever things didn't go my mom's way, she didn't mope around like I enjoy doing.  She would be happy and grateful for the tiniest, most insignificant thing she had going for her.  "Well, yes, my house caught on fire, but I was so lucky that it was a cold night and I could warm my toes by the embers!"  That was how my mom rolled.  And so, I am going to list a few of the things I was grateful for in 2012, and dedicate it to my badass mom, who I miss every day. Obviously, the good health and love of my family are number one, but these are just a few of the things that helped me get through the year:

1. Friends and family in the States, who dropped everything and were there to help us through the worst parts of the year.  Seeing your faces or hearing your words of love at such a low time in my life was a huge gift. My Dad even had the joy of listening to the details of my lady surgery from my gynocologist. 
2. Friends in Brasilia, who helped with dog sitting and childcare, shuttled me around when I couldn't drive yet, and made sure my nails didn't look like shit, even though I felt like shit.
3. My sisters.
4. Laughter. At one point, after several long, agonizing days at hospice with my mom, one of my sisters said, "OMG, look at your Google histories!"   We scrolled through our phones and peed our pants laughing. [Google 'pinocchio p*nis tattoo at your own risk]
5. Lindt chili dark chocolate bars.
6. My cleaner, who knows that Olivia only sleeps with one specific cotton sheet, but everyone else is pretty easygoing about their bedding, and who cleans out my hairbrushes and refrigerator twice a week. Even if she does ridicule my portuguese and arranges the couch pillows all wrong, I still love her.
7. Electric tennis rackets, so I can hear the sizzle of winged carcasses when I whack at the mosquitos.
8. Having a job I enjoy is pretty sweet, as is FINALLY getting to wear all the shoes I bought "in case I ever get a job".  Unfortunately, now my feet are covered in blisters, but IT'S WORTH IT. Don't tell Mitch about the blisters, though, mmkay? For some reason he thinks I buy too many shoes I don't need. Like that's even a thing.
9. Jack Daniels and Marcus James
10. And finally, the thing I'm most grateful for about 2012 is that it is OVER, yo. 

 

 

Wishing you and yours a very joyful 2013

from Brazil!

 

[photo credit]

 

 

Papai Noel

This morning, I dusted off my black heart, dragged my kids out of bed bright and early, and we went with the Marines at post to deliver toys to a local orphanage. We also brought our friend, Papai Noel (aka Santa to you northerners).

Apparently, Olivia considers this ratty red t-shirt and cutoffs her "holiday" outfit (see previous post).

 

 

Henry the Rice-Carrying Man

 We also helped deliver bags of food (donated by people from the embassy), clothes, and special toys for really sick kids (I did not take photos of the sick kids). They live in a facility attached to the orphanage, and it is run solely on donations.

It's been hard to get in the Christmas spirit whith everything going on lately, but today helped give me a little nudge.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...

 

We've been decking the halls around here a bit.  This is the family tree, which the kids decorate themselves with all the ornaments we've collected over the years. I learned a long time ago that it's no fun for anybody when someone with OCD helps decorate a Christmas tree, so I usually sit back and watch the festivities with a little Christmas cheer in my hand. 

Look! A real live elf.

 

 

This is my own personal tree:

 

 

There are two pictures of it, BECAUSE IT IS AWESOME. It has feather boas AND aqua balls. My husband, the traditionalist, thinks two trees are too much.  HA! I say. If you saw this tree in person you would feel warm and fuzzy inside, unless you were a grumpy bastard. Not naming any names.

Also, I hung a branch from the ceiling and hung some more balls from it.  I am a fan of balls at Christmastime.  If you were a grumpy bastard, you'd be all, "Why is there a branch hanging from the ceiling?  It's probably full of deadly spider eggsacs."  And I'd be all, "Don't be a hater, you brought me all the way to South America, where I don't have a proper light fixture to decorate."

Over the weekend, the three youngest kids and I went to the Embassy Santa Breakfast.  I was working the event, and we were running late, so I told the kids to put on some nice Christmas outfits. They were all out in the car waiting when I came out, so I didn't have a chance to appraise their attire.  For their annual photo with Santa.  To be preserved for all time.




Falalalala.



La. La.



La.      





La......

Working Girl

No, not that kind of working girl. Just one that wears proper pants.  I just got home from my second day of work.  This is a big deal for me in that the last time I worked in an office was, let's see....NEVER (and I'm not counting volunteering, because you don't have to wear real pants when you volunteer).  Anyhoo, it's going pretty well.  Yesterday was the usual, forms, swearing in, forms, fingerprinting, lunch with my hubby at the embassy, and some more paperwork. At about 10:00, I looked at the clock as I was filling out my forms, and  had a little sad feeling, because that's normally the time of day I look at shoes online.  I was sure someone was buying all the shoes on the internet.  Someone that wasn't me.  I looked in the bottom of my cute purse for a tiny violin, but all I found was a melty tinted chapstick. By the time I got home, I was completely exhausted from wearing pants that button up and shoes that were super-cute-but-horribly-uncomfortable.  I was surprised and saddened when I walked in my front door and there was no party (or even confetti!) for me.  Not even a sign saying, "Woo-hoo!  You went to work today, Kate!  Good job!!"  So what's the point of even going, right?

And then, even though I went to work yesterday, I had to get up and go again today. Because, apparently, 'going to work' doesn't just mean going one time.  Today was much better, because the forms were all done and I got to do actual work. The ladies in my office are fun and nice and helpful, and I think I will be happy there once I get used to not wearing yoga pants every day.  One of my tasks is to maintain/update/add to the embassy blog, so that was a breeze. Strangely, someone put up a sign above my desk saying something about being unrelentingly positive and not sarcastic or somesuch.  You can bet I threw that bitch in the trash. 

Kidding! 

Updiddlydate

I've gotten several sweet messages from strangers asking how I am recovering from my lady surgery, so here's a little update.  First of all, I should clarify that I still have my ovaries, which is lucky, because they are adorable and I'm not quite ready for menopause.  Besides, Mitch is planning on doing his required unaccompanied tour when I hit menopause, which should be about the same time the girls hit puberty.  He's always been a good planner.

Tomorrow is my six week post-op milestone. For anybody who's had a hysterectomy, you know six weeks is the marker the doctors use to tell you when you can get back to your regularly scheduled programming. So, starting tomorrow, I can drive a car, carry stuff heavier than a glass of wine (big whoop), push a grocery cart (bigger whoop), and, um, do other things (whoopie!).  Yoga.  I'm talking about yoga, people.  I was kind of drugged out when I was released from the hospital, but I'm pretty sure the doctor said no housework for a minimum of 12 months, so I will still have some restrictions. Obviously.  Tomorrow also marks the forty-fourth anniversary of my birth, so I'm pretty excited that I'll get to go grocery shopping by myself on my birthday. Yes, I'm 44.  I joke around that I'm 29, but I think I'm going to start telling people I'm 54, so I can hear that I "look so young" for my age. Hopefully.  Anyone?   Tap. Tap.  Is this thing even on?

I won't tire you with details of my recovery, other than to say it took way longer than I thought it would and I got really sick of resting.  It's really quite boring, especially after you've melted your glasses and none of your backups have progressive lenses with which to read by.  My family took excellent care of me, and so did my cleaner and my massage lady, who, once she learned that I had a hysterectomy and not "liposuction for my fat belly", spent a lot of time working on my abdomen to help prevent something in portuguese, but I'm pretty sure it's not desirable, because it happened to her sister.  Or her brother.  Whatever, my portuguese sucks.  When I wasn't resting, my lovely friend Katie drove me to important appointments, such as to get manicures and pedicures, and out to lunch, never once making fun of my ever-present yoga pants.  So, you could say that my recovery was pretty easy. I know I am beyond lucky to have all the help I do, and despite my wine-ing whining, I am really glad I had the surgery. I wasn't functioning well at all before , and I feel great now, so yay for the knife!

Anyway, from here on out, it'll be all, carrying the laundry basket, wearing pants that don't pull on, and driving to the grocery store.  And working.  At a job. Yes, you read that right.  As soon as I get my security clearance (which should be easy to get as I've been a hermit for the past 10 years), I will be writing and editing the embassy newsletter.  For pay!  Thank gawd they didn't read this blog before they hired me, although I'm pretty sure I took out most of the  F-bombs just in case. 

I am going to need some new fucking shoes before I start working, though.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

For the past few months, our house has been leaking.  At first it was just a little bit, but now it's leaking constantly, no matter if it's raining outside or not.  Most of the ceiling fans have a pretty steady stream dripping out.  In the TV room, the water rolls to the edge of the fan blades and flies all over the room. It's like a little rain shower in there.  Pretty cool, huh?

We've put in a work order for the leaks, but basically have been told there's not a lot they can do, and that it should dry out after the rainy season is over.  In May. 

And that is another fine example of the glamour of Foreign Service life. On the bright side, it's a beautiful day today, so if we need a break from the indoor rain, we can go outside and dry off in the sunshine. Gawd, I'm such a Pollyanna.  How can you stand my constant cheerfulness around here?

PS, Good news!  I finally found a turkey! For $100USD, but I'm sure it'll be delicious, and there's no leak in the dining room yet, so Thanksgiving is looking better and better.