Last R & R

Last week I told the kids I had to go to the airport to pick up a temporary duty officer arriving for the World Cup. It wasn't a total lie. Waking up to find their Dad in the kitchen :

Olivia had missed two weeks of school due to illness, so I made them all go, except Jack, who basically just plays xBox and sleeps now that he's done with high school. We've spent the last few days sitting by the pool and just generally hanging out. Boring, normal stuff that is better than Christmas after being apart for so long.

 Now, don't judge me, but have you guys played Cards Against Humanity? I win the Worst Parent Award for letting my kids play this, but it is horrible/awesome.

Selfie from bed.

My bruises are mostly better, but I will probably have some little scars on my legs. I forgot to cancel my massage lady last week and she just kept turning my arms and legs over looking for a place to massage and clucking her tongue. It was a terrible waste of money.

The mundane becomes flippin' sweet when we are all home together. We still don't have an onward assignment, but the State Department has beaten me down so much that I don't even care anymore. This week my youngest babies will turn 11 and my oldest baby will graduate high school. The day after graduation is prom, and the whole family gets to go. This is a South America thing. Pretty cool, no?

And you guys, can I just say how smugly happy I was to go to work today and leave Mitch home in charge of a sick kid, two loads of laundry, and a dirty kitchen?

Another Week Under Our Belts

Okay, so I sort of got hit by a car last week, but more on that in a minute. Look what Olivia made me for Mother's Day! Gluten Free Cherry Cupcakes. They were delish. Henry and Grace made me huevos rancheros in bed, and Jack ran to the store to pick me up some champagne (yay, Brazil!), which I drank with my friend Katie while her husband made tacos for us. All in all, not a terrible Mother's Day, even though I was missing my mom and my mate.

Jack has been studying non-stop for his IB finals. We haven't seen him come out of his room for weeks. As of Thursday, he will be a high school graduate. We're having a bonfire with his friends so they can burn their school work on Friday. 

Over the weekend, my friend and I had a garage sale together. I've never actually had a garage sale, because, you know, it's work. I'd rather dump my stuff off at a charity than do work. We hired a lady though, because garage sales are big business here. She did everything, pricing, collecting, and haggling. We just hung around watching to make sure nothing got stolen. On my watch, someone stole Henry's PSP because the snacks were inside the house, so that's where I was, yo. I made a ton of money. I'm not kidding. Thousands. Which really made my aching body not ache so much. I'm going to buy myself something pretty, like....legwarmers for my arms. You'll see why in a minute.

Garage Sale-fie. Get it? 

The worst thing about the garage sale was being on my feet for two days straight after my car...t accident. That's right, technically I was hit by a grocery cart. I was walking to my car with my groceries when the car in question hit my cart hard enough to send me flying over the top of the cart into a pile of gravel. You can actually kind of see the gravel-shaped bruises on my arm.  Pretty pretty?

My whole body is beautiful like this, except for my face, which I protected just in time to break out in stress eczema. Anyway, nothing broke except my pride. And my eggs. The guy who hit me tore off, but the grocery store people could not have been nicer. They got me all new groceries for free and helped me up like I was a little old lady. It made me sad a little, because I knew I would never be able to go back to that store again. Someone at work told me it was Leg Appreciation Day today, so here ya go:

My vow lasted until later that night, when I had to make a mad dash (and when I say mad dash, I mean gingerly tiptoeing) to get coffee beans so I could survive the garage sale the next morning. I wore a hoodie though, so I don't think anyone recognized me. I hope.

In other news, we still don't have an onward assignment, despite me trying my very hardest to get sent out of here by car attack. Also, the darlings of Afghanistan have begun their spring offensive, so there's that to worry about. At least I look totally hawt for when Mitch comes home to visit at the end of the month. 

*crickets

They Survived!

My girls made it home (sans baby turtles, sadly), exhausted, a little sunburned, and brimming with happy stories. Olivia filled me in on all the animal contact they had, while Grace filled me in on all the fifth grade girl drama. I'm pretty sure Olivia didn't comb her hair even once, but she didn't get sick or get a migraine, which is a small miracle. For about a week after they returned home they were a little prickly with me, as in, they weren't their usual cuddly selves. They were far too busy putting on lipgloss and writing in their journals. Finally, I called bullshit and told them they had to go back to being my babies and snuggle with me every day. It was a relief for all of us when they agreed. Especially Henry, who was stuck being the stand-in snuggler. 

The girls may have been fine, but I developed some kind of allergic reaction to something. Maybe I'm allergic to nuts all of a sudden, or maybe I'm allergic to being left by my loved ones, but you guys, these lips? They were about twice as big as they were in this picture.

Mitch did not seem at all turned on by my new look. In fact, he unromantically told me to increase my life insurance. Here is our messaging chain about my meeting with the insurance company:

Reeeeal nice. It took a few days and a giant shot in my ass for my lips to go down, but that didn't stop me and the boys from eating sushi every night the girls were gone. So what if food and water kept dribbling out of my mouth? I've got no one to impress.

Nothing else is new. Including knowing our next assignment. Our embassy wants us to pack out before the World Cup, but I'm sorry to say they are stuck with us. Oh! Something is new. My speeding tickets came in the mail:

My Tiny Infant Baby Daughters

I just dropped them off at the airport for a field trip with their class to a beautiful Brazilian beach, where they will be working at a sea turtle preserve for the week. They will be saving baby turtles! Baby turtles are soooo cuuuuuuuuute!

They will be staying in a hotel on this beach. Whatever.

They packed their own bags, and when I was going over them, I came across a plastic container with holes in the top. 

"Olivia, why is this container in your bag?"

"In case they let me keep some endangered baby turtles."

I just hope turtles are gluten free.

Jack's preparing for college, my babies are gaining independence, and Henry is, uh, still shooting blow darts into our concrete walls. And what am I doing? NOT PLANNING FOR OUR NEXT ADVENTURE BECAUSE UNCLE SAM HATES ME AND HASN'T GIVEN US AN ASSIGNMENT YET, EVEN THOUGH WE ARE SUPPOSED TO LEAVE IN A FEW MONTHS. I'M SO UPSET I HAD TO PUT THE CAPS LOCK ON.

It's Official

I'm a Trojan mom.

Wait, how did that get in there?

It's Monday

I thought it would be a good idea to update the blog, but nothing much has happened in the last week. Jack is closer to making a final decision on colleges in that he's narrowed it down to the west coast, with heavy leanings towards the Trojans. Sob. No, it's fine, really. Who cares about the dumb Huskies, anyway? 

I'm happy to report that my sickly daughter has gained a tiny bit of weight. Well, she had gained a bit of weight until she went to her friends' house over the weekend and ate lasagna. She denied eating gluten, but I saw it on the way back out. Ick. She also had an altercation at school. It started when Grace called me from the nurse's office, crying about getting hit in the head with a ball. Apparently the girl that threw it at her laughed at her when it happened, and had done it on purpose. I picked her up, only to realize it was hurt feelings and not a concussion that sent her home. About two hours later, I got an email saying there had been an incident in school involving Olivia and said ball-throwing girl. I still don't know what really happened, but Olivia's exact words were, "I was just holding out my fist and [name withheld] ran into it." That's her story and she's sticking to it, anyway.

Domestic Disturbance

This week, out of the blue, our beloved housekeeper of three years told us she is moving to Sao Paulo with her husband. With a kid headed off to college, and my anxiety about having people in my home that didn't come out of my body, I've decided not to hire anyone new. As I was outlining all the chores the kids were going to have to do, I mentioned to Olivia that she would have to start cleaning her own bathroom.

"No, I don't. My bathroom is always clean already!" She chirped.

This should be interesting.

Into the Last Half

He came, it was lovely. He left, it sucked. We got the terrible news that a dear friend of ours from Seattle passed away shortly after Mitch arrived here. A husband and father of three from fucking cancer, so our time together was made even more precious. Still, we are fine. Many blessings and all that shit, but you know what we don't have? On onward assignment. Yep, Mitch's tour ends in 19 weeks and we have no idea where we're going next. Have you poked out your eyes from my cheerful post yet?

Here's some good news. My amazing firstborn was accepted to all four of his top choice colleges. One in every corner of the US. We are very proud of him, and there are good things about each school.  Tulane, American, UW, and University of SoCal. Apparently it is a thing here to shave your head when you get accepted to college, so he came home from a Carnaval Block party with no hair.  Last week he went to Bahia, Salvador on the coast of Brazil for Model UN with his bald head and had a great time except for the part where he got his iPhone pickpocketed. And a wallet with  significant amount of money. But he saved some turtle eggs that were being washed out to sea, and you can't put a price on that!

Henry and Grace are happy and mellow, Olivia is a mess, which I am fairly certain will resolve itself in approximately 19 weeks. I've had a kid home sick every day for the last two weeks. It's Groundhog Day without the awesomeness that is Bill Murray.

I will end on a cheerful note and tell you that I haven't found one of these in the house in the last month or so, which is awesome! Don't worry, this one met an untimely death with Jack's boot.

First Week Home

Today we went to Grace's piano recital, then to lunch at a Mexican restaurant we've been wanting to try. It sucked. We did our best to kill the horrible food with margaritas, though. 

Mostly we've just been doing a lot of this:

We're resting up for Carnaval!

Half Way

This week marks the half way point in this tour. I would love to say that the past six months have flown by, as many people said it would.  We've been up and down, but the truth is, the time is dragging.  We are all experiencing this Unaccompanied Tour with varying degrees of challenges. I can't speak for Mitch, but I have no doubts it's the worst on him.

Jack has kicked the ass of his last year of high school. He tutors the girls in math, does his volunteer work in the favela school, maintained his grades in the rigorous IB program, and has generally taken over the 'man of the house' role, which apparently includes keeping his younger brother in line in that special way only brothers know about. Example: after several hours of tutoring Henry in preparation for his math final, Henry came out of his room, quite pleased with his progress. "Jack is a really good math teacher, mom.  If I miss a problem, he punches me, so I try really hard not to miss any." While Jack knocked my socks off by getting a perfect score on his math SAT, he was much more excited last week when he got home from school and said, "Mom! I beat the Asian kid on my math quiz!"  Unfortunately, he has also been utilizing his drum set nearly every day, much to my bleeding ears' dismay.

Henry is your typical middle child, flying under the radar most of the time.  His voice is changing and he's almost as tall as me. He's funny and mostly sweet, although lately he's really been pissing me off by not letting me cuddle him. He scooters back and forth between our house and his friend's house, who lives a few blocks away. Sometimes he goes to Adam's several times a day, and sometimes he goes if he just doesn't like the contents of our refrigerator. He's teaching himself to play bass and guitar, but that's not nearly as painful to me as Jack's drumming.

Grace is grace. Kind, loving, innocent, and happy. She's into painting her nails and making miniatures out of polymer clay. She loves drama and piano, and has recently begun guitar lessons. She despises tennis lessons, but not as much as she despises other sports, so she perseveres. The tennis courts at the embassy are right outside of my office window and I can hear her laughing her way through her lessons with every ball she misses or hits into the cafeteria seating area. She makes brownies a lot.

Olivia has been my biggest challenge. She is sick all the time. We've been to several doctors, and while eliminating gluten has helped her stomachaches, she is still getting migraines. We have an appointment next week with a pediatric neurologist, but I think her problems are emotional. Last week she had plans to go to her friend's house after school with Grace. She had been looking forward to it all week, but when the time came to ride her bike over there, she burst into tears and said she didn't feel comfortable leaving the house. As a person who has experienced similar phobias, my heart broke. Grace went, but Olivia and I snuggled on my bed and watched a 'Cake Boss' marathon. I knew she was truly her mother's daughter after about an hour, when I said, "Olivia, are you feeling well enough to go to Caroline's house now?", and she replied, "After this episode.  A drag queen is going to jump out of the cake and I love drag queens." I know, right? I love drag queens, too! I hate her being sick all of the time. So far, we've eliminated nuts, gluten, MSG, nitrates, color dye, and food chemicals from her diet, and there has been definite improvement, but dealing with doctors whose English isn't great is tough. We will get there. She is also playing guitar and is having fun in the marimba band at school.

I'm doing better than I was. I no longer wake in the middle of the night to check the news of attacks in Kabul. I chat online with Mitch all the time, but our internet is either so slow or not working at all most of the time, so Skype and phone calls are rare. I often ask myself what the hell I am doing all alone in South America, but the answer makes itself clear to me when I see things like my kids playing with our gate guard's kid, speaking portuguese and laughing at his jokes. I miss Mitch all the time. I don't mind going to bed alone, but waking up alone is the worst.

So, that's where we are. Mitch will be home at the end of this week for a short visit, and he will surely enjoy our mostly vegetarian, gluten-free home. I kid, of course. No doubt he will be charring up all kinds of animal on the grill. Ohmygod! I forgot to tell you. I have muscle tone. I can plank for almost two minutes and can bench press the medium to small round thingies on the pole thingie at the gym. I hate exercise, but I hear it's good for you and whatnot, so I'm giving it a try, but I only do the exercises I want to do, so no stupid dumb stairs or treadmill bullshit. I've been trying to get the girls to join me in yoga. You guys should see Grace try to do a downward dog. It is absolutely precious.