24 Days in America

'Hey, Boo....I didn't see you standing behind the door like that.'  That's what I say when I forget about stuff. To Kill a Mockingbird reference.  Get it? Because I forgot about this blog? We've been on R & R in the States.  I wrote about it here.  Anyway, we are cramming every last bit of loving in on the man of the house before he heads to Kabul, so I'm just going to leave you with a few pics from our R&R. We're also doing a lot of stress bickering.  I've heard that's common just before an Unaccompanied Tour. After he leaves, I hope to update the blog so often that y'all will be more bored of me than you are now, so I can keep the old man updated with tales of our misadventures as a single parent household.  Beijos!

Priest Lake, Idaho:

I never like to put pictures of people other than my own family on here lest they get
offended, but I did take a photo of this awesome sandwich made by my sister.

I'm on a boat.

Spokane:

Henry and my sister's awesome husband.

College Tours:

Go Huskies!

Seattle:

Why you so cold in July, Seattle?

Mini bacon maple donuts. I KNOW!

Seattle Gum Wall

Salt Lake City:

Utah wedding

Tired girl, good big brother

Girl that just wants to dance, good big brother. Mom who can't figure out
her new flash gizmo.

Brazil

Just wanted to drop in to say that we are fine here. That being said, the protests have kept us from doing a few things, but we are happy to ride it out in the hopes that the Brazilian people can articulate their needs, be heard, and change their country for the better in a peaceful way.

The Third Worst Boy

Yesterday was Grace's end-of-the-year piano recital.  She kicked ass:

It's a good thing she's musically inclined, because physical coordination seems to elude her, a trait inherited from her mother.  Last night was a big festival in Brazil, called Festa Junina. I'm not entirely sure what it's all about, but it celebrates farming and country and cowboys.  I think.  Anyway, all the girls wear big, colorful dresses and have fancy pigtails with ribbons.  There are a bunch of traditional dances to go with, but more on that in a minute.  Grace tried four times to ride the mechanical bull.  She didn't stay on for more than about one-third of a second.  But she WAS wearing shorts under her skirt, so not a total loss.

Olivia, on the other hand, dropped out of piano lessons after a few months due to hatred of said instrument.  Apparently, her special skill is in bull-riding.  The bull could not throw her.  She rode it all night without falling off, at least until I closed my wallet.  Total cost of bull riding: $40 USD.  Fortunately, we paid in reais, and reais are really more like play money. Or so I keep trying to convince my husband.

A few days before the Festa Junina party, I got a note from school reminding me to make sure the girls had Festa Junina dresses for their folk dance performance.  What the what?  Needless to say, you could tell which kids were mine because: Screw That.

Typical Festa Junina costume and hairstyle.

Crap my girls pulled out of the back of their and their brother's closets to wear.

That may or may not be my red drink cup on the table.  It may or may not be full of wine.

Two of these girls have good moms who provide the right costumes.  The other two have a mom who makes sure her kids at least have the most kick-ass boots at the thing. Sorry I didn't get any good photos of the boots, but trust me, their boots were the best.

Anyway, the fourth graders have been rehearsing their dance for the past month in PE.  I've been hearing about it a lot from Olivia, who was paired with the "third worst boy" in the class.  That description killed me.  How much would it suck to be the "third worst boy"?  You're not even bad enough to be the worst or even second worst boy.  Anyway, as luck would have it, the "third worst boy" did not even show up, which is why Olivia ended up having a pretty fun night, between that and conquering the mechanical bull.

See these kids?  They have good moms, too:

Henry came to Festa Junina with us, but I didn't see him all night, so I didn't get any photos.  He was prowling the perimeter with his posse.  Jack stayed home to study for finals.  

School ends in just a few days, so help me gah....

What's Been Going on Around Here

We've been busy with all the end of the school year stuff, and also really busy at work, because we had a visitor last week.  Maybe you'll recognize him:

No, that isn't a cardboard cutout of the VPOTUS. And yes, his teeth really are that amazeballs. 

Much more important than meeting Vice President Biden, however, was my two little ladies turning double digits. I trapped them in their room on the morning of their birthday. As you can see, they hadn't quite woken up yet:

Grace wore her new Tardis hat and Olivia wore her new Tardis socks (along with a heavy fur bear hat thingie that is awesomely inappropriate for Brazil's climate).  If you don't know what a Tardis is, all I can say is that it's a nerd thing.  

And finally, Jack went to his first senior prom.  They do it differently here.  All of the families of the graduates get to go, and then there is an after party that goes until the next morning.  It's not really a 'date' thing, but it is formal. 

 Henry got a Mohawk, but he wears it flat.

We will be heading home for a visit soon (Hopefully?  Pretty please can we get our travel orders, HR?), and then when we get back we will all be moving. Mitch to the Sandbox, and me and the kids to a new house, because the powers that be finally agreed that our house is trying to kill us.  Fingers crossed that it doesn't collapse before we get out! I am stressed and tired (as are all moms at the end of the school year) and wrote about it here.  I'm also really grumpy and fed up with our crappy internet that never works and our phones that work even less than the internet.  When I get back to the States, I'm going to find a random Comcast guy and kiss him full on the mouth.  So funny that I used to complain about Comcast before I moved here. When I'm done making out with the Comcast guy, I'm going to buy a bunch of beautiful organic vegetables and roll around on them and then I'm going to go to a Thai restaurant and then eat a Cobb salad and then stop at a stop sign because that's how it's done in America.

Feeding a Teenager

It's been a trying week.  Mitch is in DC learning about the evil that men do, and I am home learning about the evil that viruses do.  Or mosquitos.  My girls are sick, sick, sick.  It could be Dengue or the flu, but since there is no cure for either, we've decided to simply hunker down and ride it out.  Today is the first day that their fevers are below 102, so I'm optimistic.  Between caring for them and trying to work from home, I haven't been up to making my usual arsenal of foods for the family.  On the bright side, with Mitch away, who's going to complain that I set two rotisserie chickens on the counter and let the kids tear it apart with their fingers for dinner last night?  Okay, I admit that was a low point.

Jack is not impressed with my lack of kitchen skills this week, and I am super-excited to see how he fares in college next year:

"Mom, do we have any bread?"

"Yes, there's some on the counter."

"No, that's store bread.  Where's the homemade bread?"

"I didn't make any this week, you'll just have to use store bread."

"What am I, an animal?"

And then he proceeded to pour himself six bowls of cereal rather than eat the offensive store bread.  It's not like I haven't tried to teach him to cook, he just refuses to learn.  The other three kids love to cook. I'm sure he'll survive, but it will be interesting as he won't eat ramen noodles or any other convenience food besides cereal.  He and a friend invited a few girls over to his friend's house for a barbecue a few weeks ago.  I asked if he wanted me to show him how to make a few dishes, and he was all, "No, I've got it covered."  When I asked how it went and what they ate, he said it hadn't gone very well.  The girls weren't that impressed with their "meal", which apparently consisted of a slab of beef.  And nothing else.

Handshake

Mitch's project is coming to an end here in Brasilia.  Many of you already know where his next assignment is going to be, what with all the carrying-on and whatnot around here. Anyway, he finally got his official cable (it's called a handshake in the Foreign Service), and I can't exactly say I'm "happy" to report that he is headed to....

Kabul, Afghanistan

 

Without us.  For one year.  The kids and I will remain in Brasilia.  Are we excited?  Nope. Of course, not. But if you know us at all, you know we weighed every option very carefully before we came to this decision.  I'm not going to go into the reasons, because they are only important to us, but I will ask this.  Please don't judge us (behind our backs is totally fine, just don't get all judgy to my face, yo). Please don't get all weepy-eyed at me, because I'm a cry-baby already and I don't need any added incentive to let the waterworks flow. Please don't say things to me like, "I would/could never let my husband leave me and my children for a year/go to a warzone!"  These are just a few examples of things I've already heard.

I don't want to finish this post on a downer, though, so here's a list of things we are looking forward to in the coming year:

• Mitch will get to come home three times during the tour for three weeks each visit. 
• Jack will get to graduate with his class and (hopefully) complete his IB Diploma.
• Breakfast for dinner!
• I won't have to read my Kindle under the covers. I will also claim the middle of the bed.
• I hear you can get some pretty cool rugs in the Middle East
• The girls are looking forward to getting Burka Barbies. Okay, no, they aren't. But I totally want one.
• People will think we have big balls. Or are batshit crazy.  Either way.
• I might finally learn how to check the air pressure in the car tires. Or, and this plan is just formulating now, I might stand at the embassy gas thingie with a sad, "my husband is in Afghanistan and I'm all alone" face and get someone else to do it for me out of pity. 
• I will use what I'm sure is to be my new favorite excuse for getting out of things: "I'm sorry, I can't possibly come to your cat's birthday party.  You see, my husband is serving in Afghanistan." 
• I get to keep my job. Unless I get fired for letting the eff word slip in my column.  But then, I'll be all, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to use the eff word. My husband is serving in Afghanistan."  You see how it works?
• Mitch never had a sandbox as a kid.

Badum-bump.  Thank you, and I'll be here all year!

Iguacu Falls

We just got back from spending a week at Iguacu Falls in Brazil, Argentina, and a tiny little bit of Paraguay. We had an amazing time, I got eaten alive, and we will never forget it. I'm way too lazy to write about it again, but I did write about it here if you want to hear about my Honey Baked Ham feet.  Here are a few of the 650 photos we snapped:

 

 

Banana splits poolside were an afternoon ritual. For the kids, that is. I enjoyed my calories in liquid form.

Jack and Henry working on putting me in an early grave.

Coatis-Ick.

I'm wearing a bun because like an idiot, I flat-ironed my hair that morning. Everything was covered in a fine mist from the falls the moment we stepped into the park. I looked like I had a 3 foot afro.

Jungle Tour

Getting ready to go under the falls in a boat.  Way fun!

The marker where Brazil, Argentina, and Paraguay meet.

Caiman

Just a few of the many birds we saw.

Requitsite photo ops from the bird park

Jack trying to decide if he should get this stylish coat at a street fair.

Olivia. 90 degrees and extreme humidity, but alas, apparently she was feeling foxy.

Largest dam in the world!