Global Awareness

Last weekend the kids had a Global Awareness Fair at their school. The third graders represented the country of Columbia.  The girls were supposed to teach the crowds a traditional Columbian dance, which Grace practiced day and night. Olivia, not so much. In fact, she woke up three times the night before with tummy troubles and was dry heaving in the car on the way to school. Fortunately, she has a wonderful teacher who is very understanding about Grace getting 100% of the public performance gene in the womb and she was excused. Grace put on a great show for the parents.

Meanwhile, a brilliant group set up a room full of puppies and kittens. They were accepting donations of one or two reais as a benefit for an animal welfare agency here. I gave Olivia a few coins and she gleefully disappeared into the building. A few minutes later, she came out, crying.

"Th-th-th-ey kicked me out because I was in there for t-t-t-t-oooo looooooong!" She was not to be consoled, because, dammit, those puppies needed her. I walked her back to the building, gave the lady at the door a very sizable donation, and arranged for Olivia to be a "room monitor" for the rest of the day, visiting as often as she wished. I checked on her after 20 minutes or so:

A little while later:

And after an hour:

And after two hours:

Meanwhile, while Grace did visit the puppies briefly, she spent most of her time getting an Indian makeover from the teenagers at the India booth:

And eating some delectable international cuisine:

Yep, that's a hotdog.

Henry's class gave powerpoint presentations on a global topic of their choice. Henry chose global warming:

But mostly he just enjoyed all the international food:

I bought handcrafts and stuff at the international booths while my kids were dancing, playing with puppies, and eating.  Mitch was at the school too, but he was playing in the embassy vs. kids softball game. And Jack celebrated Global Awareness by spending most of the day sleeping. The day was a win, with every member of our family doing something they enjoyed.

Moroccan Party

I hosted a little party of about thirty ladies on Friday for an embassy Bunco Night, and since I love a good theme, I decided on Moroccan. It was lots of fun and not too much work, since I had a lot of the stuff on hand. 

All those billowy curtains are just old sheets. Free!

These are the ugly flourescent lights I have hanging down the length of our patio. I wrapped them in tissue paper and tied ripped old t-shirt strips to the bottom to make 'em all fancy:

The bar.  I had one lovely lady come in, squint at the sign and say, "Cash bar?! I didn't bring any money."   And the Cashbar was rocked all night.

I got all the tablecloths for about four bucks each with a coupon/sale combo online, which is about the price of a paper tablecloth, and who doesn't need a bunch of jewel-toned tablecloths, right? I'm sure they'll come in handy some day.

 Table settings were also cheap. Gold chargers, a lantern, gold spray-painted Coke bottles with plastic jewels hot-glued on (still suffering burns from that), and little bowls filled with dates and Moroccan spiced almonds. I didn't put the dates and almonds out until the very last minute, because this is Brazil. Ants and other things would have swarmed.

 If it wasn't nailed down, it got spray painted with gold. Below are Cougar Gold tins and glasses that got the treatment, and those palm twig thingies that fell out of my tree got spray painted too.

Everyone gets a party favor at Bunco, so these lanterns served as both decorations and favors. The presents below were the prizes for the game (a Moroccan tagine, Moroccan tea glass candles, and a Moroccan serving tray). I loved these vintage belly dancers I found on the web.

 I tied Christmas ornaments to the bottoms of the paper lanterns to give them more of a harem feel. Also, because I never know when to stop.

Many of the ladies came adorned in belly dancing or Moroccan flavored outfits, but I had set up a little station for temporary Henna tattoos, bindis for the forehead, and bangles to keep the festive spirit going.

I served Moroccan chicken stew and a lemon-coconut cake, and everyone brought booze and side dishes.  I would love to show you how everyone looked, but I'm just too lazy to blur out all those faces. Instead, here is a picture of my new Brazilian cow rug!

Karma:

When you lick your sick sister's water bottle so you can get sick and play video games all day, and you do indeed wake up with a fever, but your mom deems you too sick to strain your eyes. Wop woop.

Germs. It's What's for Dinner.

I have some pics from our weekend to post later, but I just thought I'd pop in for a minute to describe a scene I just witnessed.  Grace is home sick from school today, and she was feverishly sleeping on the couch.  Henry walked in, took a long look at his XBox, looked at Grace on the couch, and walked over to her. I was in the hall, unobserved.  He bent down to her and whispered in her ear, "Grace." No response. He stroked her hair and picked up the water bottle on the table next to her. "Grace, honey, is this your water?"  A weak "yes" from her. He kissed her forehead, turned his back to her, and LICKED the mouth of the water bottle.

I swear if he comes down with whatever she has, the XBox will be under lock and key and he'll spend the whole time scrubbing the floor with his toothbrush.

All's Quiet on the Southern Front

It has been brought to my attention by a few people that I've been sucking at updating this blog lately. Here's the thing.  I don't have anything to complain about right now. Okay, well, I do, but who wants to hear that it rained right after the gardener washed my car or that the maid got a bleach spot on my yoga pants?  That's what I thought. And since my blog posts are generally a document of events gone horribly awry, you can take my absence as a sign that things are going well.

The truth is, we are all pretty happy here in Brazil. I'm finally busy and losing the 20 pounds of being in the dumps that I gained over the last year or so. I can order a meal in a restaurant in portuguese and the kids can help me with the rest. We're making friends. Mitch's job is cruising along well and the kids are enjoying school and all their extracurricular activities. See how boring this post has gotten? No one's been sick or accidentally ordered a bag of smashed a*sholes in broken portuguese. The mosquitos are letting up as the rains are disappearing and my hair is becoming more manageable as well. I'm totally putting myself to sleep now. Don't worry though, if there's one thing I'm sure of in life, it's that the Pulling Stakes family will embarrass ourselves in a spectacular way, and I'll be here to document it for you.

Meanwhile, enjoy this photo of my teenager, who may or may not be staying home from school today even though he isn't sick. We allow one sanity day per semester for each kid, as long as there aren't any tests.  Shhhhh.

Edited to add: The extra dog belongs to some friends of ours who are visiting the states.

An Update

I don't have a topic today. Which is totally different from my normal scintillating topics of barf, insects, and, well, I can't even think of anything else I write about. We are leaving the rainy season and entering the dry season, and it is hot. Just lifting my fingers to type is a chore right now. Also, with each new season comes a slew of different insects (here I go again-but I promise there's no barf in this post). I was attacked by some creature yesterday and now I'm walking around with what looks like giant and perky red boobs all over my legs. You're welcome!

We haven't gone anywhere or done anything because our A/C in the car broke and we are awaiting a part from the states, and Gah knows I'm way too delicate of a flower to drive around with a pile of kids and no A/C.  Despite the heat and the bugs, everyone is generally pretty happy. Jack made it home safe and sound from Rio and is very bummed that all his American friends are getting their driver's permits and licenses. The driving age in Brazil is 18. Poor little angel.  MWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA! 

I'm even starting to get busy. I got a job. I will be writing a newsletter for a charitable organization I belong to here, mostly a group of expat women, so thankfully it's all in English. The competition for this job was nonexistent fierce and the pay is nonexistent competitive. I will probably get fired once they realize my only writing skills center around barf and bugs. I'm also making friends bit by bit. That has been challenging for me, because you have to leave your house and be s-s-social and all, which I'm allergic to.

The kids are getting pretty good at portuguese. The other afternoon the girls were playing outside and the gardener, just about finished with his work, wiped his brow and sat on a rock in the shade to try and cool down a bit. Often, I give the guy a Skol (Brazilian beer) at the end of the day. So, without missing a beat, Olivia goes, "Você quer uma cerveja?"  That's portugeuse for "Would you like a beer?" I'm pleased that they're learning hospitality at that over-priced school of theirs. I would prefer she teach me how to ask him "Would you like to wash my car?", however.  I'm the only one I know who doesn't have their gardener wash their car here, but I don't want my kids to get lazy, so I make them wash it. They do a pretty crappy job, too.

Mitch has been playing on the embassy softball team and enjoying that, but I'm not thrilled with all the nursemaid-ing that occurs in the days that follow the games. At his last game, he was speeding towards third and was about to get out. You could hear from the stands a blonde, barf and bug-obsessed lady clearly shouting, "DON'T SLIDE!  DON'T SLIDE!"  Thankfully, he didn't slide and while he was tagged out, it was without much injury, so a definite win. For me. And since I'm the heroine of this story, that's all that counts, right?

Bom Carnaval!

It's all fun and games until someone gets confetti in the eye.

Brazilian cell phone holder

Red dye #5

Parque Nacional

Which one will go best with that hair?

Dear Brazil,

Thanks for giving my kids ANOTHER week off from school.  Consider yourself dumped.

Kate

Brazil, will you go with me?

Circle your answer:

• Yes
• No
• Maybe

In honor of Valentine's Day, I've decided to make a little Junior High-style Valentine for Brazil. Not sure if Brazil will be my boyfriend or not, but we have been flirting A LOT lately, and Brazil did put his hand in the back pocket of my jeans when we were walking together last week. Also, I may or may not have let Brazil see my bare arms out in public, so you be the judge. It hasn't always been puppies and rainbows with me and Brazil. We've had a pretty rocky time of it, in fact. For example, Brazil has some frat buddies I can't stand being around. They're constantly buzzing in my ears and getting drunk on my blood.  Also, Brazil has been keeping me from being with many of my loved ones, and I can't help but feel resentful about that.  However, Brazil has been slowly trying to win his way in to my heart, and I confess that I've found myself sucked in by his charms.  I've even made Brazil a little list of things I love about him.  Let me count the ways...

Your weather.  Oh, how I love your warm, warm days and nights and beautiful sunshine and gorgeous thunderstorms and torrential downpours.  Rarely too hot, rarely too cold. Although I confess to wearing my Corn Palace sweatshirt when it dips below 72 degrees.

Your beautiful birds. Toucans, owls, and parrots in the backyard? Yes, please.

Your parking thugs.  I laugh every time I go into a parking lot and a guy will give me the thumbs up, signaling that he will 'keep my car from harm' for the low, low price of a few reais. 

Monkeys. What can I say?  They're adorable and they melt my cold, black heart whenever they wander into the yard.

Your pace.  Brazilians now how to r-e-l-a-x.  And that is something I'm good at as well, so I think we are a compatible couple that way.

Your love of children.  Children are welcome everywhere, any time of day or night. Most restaurants have playgrounds, and if they don't, no one seems to mind a few kids running around while they're eating.

Mango trees wherever you look. And lime, banana, avocado, and more mango.

Your friendly peeps. Aside from the aforementioned frat buddies, that is.

The crazy things you can buy on the side of the road.  Towels, food, drinks, brooms, garbage bags, flags, hammocks, scary clown dolls, electrified tennis rackets for killing frat buddies, you name it. Well, except stuff you can't get here, which brings me to my next point.

You are making me very resourceful, Brazil.  I can now make my own sourdough bread, english muffins, bagels, and pita bread. I never throw anything out, because I might need it and probably won't be able to get it when that time comes. You're good for me that way.

Your creatures. They're amazing, and at times, terrifying. I've learned to never pour flour or rice blindly into a recipe bowl, and I've gotten practically blasé about finding a bag full of crawlies. I watched a colony of leaf-cutter ants take down my new jasmine plant within hours of putting it in the ground. I've also seen spiders so big that my dog barks at them. Would I say your creatures are a plus or a minus on this love note?  Mais ou menos. We hate getting bit, but we are seeing some pretty amazing wildlife that we would never see back home.

And the last thing I love about you, but certainly not the least, Brazil, is that I get to buy lots of cute sandals to make up for not getting to wear my boots anymore. 

Now, I'm not saying I won't dump you when a shiny new country comes along, especially if he has sharp cheddar. I'm just being honest, here. So, what do you say, handsome?  Will you be my Valentine? I know my husband won't mind if I two-time him with you, because he's wanted to bring you into our relationship for months now. He's kinky that way.

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Yays and Boos

Yay!  My mate is finally coming home tonight after many, many days on TDY in Rio, Sao Paulo, and Recife.

Boo.  No more easy cereal/scrambled egg dinners and I'm back to only getting half the bed.

Yay!  The maid came today and cleaned my house from top to bottom.

Boo.  I spilled a can of tomato sauce on the kitchen floor as she was walking out the gate.

Yay!  Henry came through his orthodontic surgery with flying colors.

Boo.  They made me watch every single minute of it, and if I looked away, they called my attention back to his open gums.

Yay!  They only charged me $600R (about $350).

Boo.  He missed swimming lessons, a birthday party, and eating solid foods for three days.

Yay!  Jack got invited to go to Búzios and Rio for Carnival with the Dutch Ambassador's family.

Boo.  He refuses to wear a helmet the whole time he's out of my sight.

Yay!  I made my first Brazilian friend and my children were caught speaking portuguese with her grandchildren while we were at their house.

Boo.  I couldn't understand a word my own kids were saying.

Boo.  My car died while I was at the security checkpoint to get into the embassy. During the morning rush. With about eight cars behind me. While my husband was living it up on Ipanema beach. It turned out to be a loose battery connection (they have to open the engine and trunk, check under the car with mirrors, etc, so there's quite a bit of fussing-I think they knocked the connector loose).

Yay! I fixed it myself.  That's right, I totally fixed a car all by myself with a tool thingie and everything. 

Yay! The gardeners hacked down one of our banana trees in about ten seconds and we got this, which my little Frankenmouth child can even eat:

Boo. They lost the key to the shed and we can't get to the hula hoops. And since it doesn't get any sadder than that, I suppose I should go clean up that tomato sauce, as nobody seems to be coming to my rescue.  Wop Wooop.

Getting back in the swing

Who would have thought I would be too busy to blog once the kids got back in school?  So, remember in my last post how there was a mysterious trench in front of my house? Well, the workers  accidentally cut the powerline to my house, but no worries, they duck-taped it back together.  Thankfully, Mitch called the embassy and they were out here in a flash, directing the crew to replace the power line rather than taping it back together and bringing me a generator the size of my car. It would have been awesome if it had been connected properly, too.  Lightbulbs blew out all over the house, the surge protectors sparked and popped, and the alarm box actually melted down the wall. We eventually got it all sorted out and now we do have power again, just in time for me to get busy with the Project Teach bake sale.  Project Teach is the group that volunteers with the orphanage/school in Aguas Lindas about an hour outside of Brasilia. I finally got a good sourdough starter going, which took months of feeding and babying. I made sourdough english muffins, sourdough baguettes, and bagels for the bake sale, which was at the embassy. 

The baked goods sold immediately, because none of this stuff is available here. The Ambassador even bought three english muffins for $50R.   Of course, it was for a good cause. We didn't put prices on anything, just told the customers it was a donation. Of whatever they thought was fair. For the orphans. So they could have healthy food (we use the money to buy fruits and vegetables every week for the kids at the orphanage school).  As you can imagine, we made a LOT of money with that kind of pressure. Essentially, we force unhealthy foods on the diplomats so we can buy healthy foods for the orphans. Everybody wins.

The kids are very happy to be back in school with all their friends. Henry went to a sleepover on Friday and spent most of Saturday recovering in this manner:

Olivia went to a slumber party on Saturday. The girls are in separate classes, so Grace did not receive an invitation, which was fine with both girls. They've been enjoying playdates with their own friends lately. This was to be the first time the girls have ever slept apart since, well, conception (I'm not counting those dark days when they were one and Olivia was comatose for a week at Children's Hospital).  Henry invited Grace to sleep in his spare bed because she claimed she couldn't sleep without Olivia.  We thought we were home free when midnight rolled around and there was still no call to come pick her up. Alas, at nearly 1:00am, we got a call from the Czech Republic Ambassador to come pick up our daughter. She made her dad haul her sleeping sister back into her rightful bed, too. 

I'm off to watch the latest episode of my new obsession, Downton Abbey. I recommend it muchly. Unless you're my husband, who likes to come sit by me, watch it for about four minutes, grab a sharpened pencil, and stick it directly in his eye.