The Sequel

I wanted to put this out there for those that like to stay in touch via blogs!  In an effort to try and re-focus on everything that is real and wonderful in our lives, I'm going to step out of social media for a while.  It's time to see/talk/write to those we know and love, and find a new outlet for those moments when I am inspired through writing and photography...a new blog!  I wanted to share the link on this blog for those who are interested in continuing to follow our family adventures or indulge me in some mindless jabber.  

http://polkadotblankets.blogspot.com/

See you on the next blog,

Stephanie

The End of (this) Road

I remember dreaming of moving abroad long before it ever became a possibility.  I think from the time I returned home from my semester abroad in college, I felt quite certain that this was a life I wanted, and needed, to make happen again someday.  When Chris and I got married, I think we were drawn to a move abroad to prove to ourselves that we wouldn't get caught up in what we then thought to be a monotonous life outside of our control.  One that was dictated by mortgages, bedtimes, deadlines, and commutes.  We wanted the comfort of starting a family together AND adventure.  We wanted it all.

When the opportunity came about at Chris' work, and eventually came to be, I think I assumed this experience would be mostly about adventure.  What I would experience OUTSIDE myself - new places, cultures, people, and food.  I assumed we would simply be transplanting our existing little family into a new world to see and experience a different way of life - a temporary escape from the "norm", emerging at the end of the two years with some amazing memories and pictures, and maybe a more extensive Spanish vocabulary.  But I had no idea how much of this experience was actually about looking internally, rather than externally.  Absolutely, the travel was incredible, and there is no question that traveling to new countries and cities was my favorite part of living abroad, but the daily life was almost a separate experience entirely.

Life in Barcelona was a glimpse.  A temporary kick outside my world as I knew it, to hold up a magnifying glass to my previous life, forcing me to look long and hard at it.  I arrived there, in the mindset of continuously having to define who I was.  What kind of mother I was.  What I did for a living.  What I wore, where I lived.  It was a painful process, having all of that stripped away in Barcelona.  Suddenly the last 30 years of existence had no relevance.  I was a nameless, faceless wife and mother, just trying survive day to day.  And what mattered most, was my Achilles heel -- making personal connections, and enjoying the daily moments as they unraveled, without plans or expectations for what comes next.  It was a daily exercise in tempering The Planner, The Great Assessor - to simply just BE.  The daily chores of life were challenge enough...finding ingredients for dinner, paying a bill, running an errand.  It didn't leave room for the excess noise.  Life was not easy, but it was simple.  And it showed me a different way of looking at life -- it forced me to live in a way that will forever change how I experience life, regardless of where I am.

What I was left with at the end of this experience is a realization that what really matters in my life translates across all continents. For me, it came down to this - being truly present, cutting out the noise, and embracing what truly makes me happy.  I constantly ask myself, "if I was laying on my deathbed, would I be glad I spent my day this way?"

Living in Spain helped me realize that, all along, I had the tools for enjoying life - I could be present, and find beauty in the daily moments everyday, regardless of where I was.  This experience gave me the gift of perspective.  And the beautiful part is, once I was able to exercise this in Barcelona -- a place where I was constantly challenged and far from my family -- coming back to the US felt like someone had blown the ceiling off my world, and the possibilities seem endless.

I had started a blog entry prior to our leaving Barcelona that I never finished, but I feel like what I wrote has some relevance here:

"As our stuff disappears from the rooms, you can almost see the life draining away...and I'm struck by the fact that four walls are just four walls.  We come into a home, an empty shell, and we infuse it with life.  With laughter, and tears, and food, and toys...books and friends, pets and plans.  The house changes around us.  We wear down the floors, and leave little drawings on the baseboards.

It becomes a HOME.

But it isn't the place that is home.  It is the people inside.  And as we walk through this empty apartment, the way we walked through our empty house two years prior, I'm reminded of that very fact.  The house is an empty shell without life running through it.  We are the soul, we are what create a home.  It doesn't matter where we are, what kind of house we live in, or what "things" are inside of it -- the five of us together is what will define our family, our home."

I can end this blog by saying it was an incredible road we took.  I'm grateful, and humbled by the experience...grateful for all the wonderful friends we made, people we met, and places we saw.  I'm grateful I was able to live in such an incredible city.  I would often meet people, from all over the world, who had traveled their whole lives and specifically choose Barcelona as their final landing spot...and I can see why.

 Thank you to my friends and family for reading this little blog, and for your words of encouragement along the way.  Knowing we were able to share our experiences and feel connected while we were so far away made all the difference to us...it made coming home feel like somehow, we've been here all along.  It feels amazing to be back.

And to those back in Europe...we will see you again friends :)  Kisses, hugs, and lots of love to all of you.

Fiestas and Farewells

I am sitting on the kids' step stool, typing on a computer that rests on a cardboard box...a super nice couple new to Barcelona just came to pick through our mish mash of "housewares" for grabs, and we have a handful of people due to arrive in another hour to pick up our bed, air conditioner, and the baby stuff.  We ate bocodillos for lunch sitting on a blow up mattress on the wide open empty floor.  Molly is somewhere over the Atlantic completing the second leg of her two flight journey home.  Safe to say we're nearing the end here.

Although this week was incredibly fun, it was exhausting.  Packing, coordination, and trying to get in last minute nights out with friends.  Lots of coffee.  Lots of Ibuprofen.

While I don't have a ton of time or energy to write a long, involved post right now, I wanted to remember some great moments from this week...

Easter BBQ and Egg Hunt

A super fun afternoon spent with our friends here in Poblenou, drinking cava, grillin' meat on their roof deck, and enjoying the unexpected break of sun in the afternoon, while the kids raced to find chocolate eggs in the neighboring park. (A big thanks to A & D for hosting and for all the great pics!)

Sant Jordi Day!  

Sort of the Valentine's Day of Barcelona, this is a truly charming holiday to celebrate the patron saint of Catalunya, Sant Jordi.  In celebration, the men buy women a single rose with a sprig of wheat for prosperity, and the women buy the men a book.  This day obviously had special meaning, as it was Jordi's first Saint Day!  We celebrated with some special Sant Jordi cookie treats, visited the local dragon display, and exchanged books and roses once Daddy came home.

Last but certainly not least...

The Farewell Party

Honestly, I might have had more fun last night than at my own wedding.  It was incredible to have everyone close to us together in the same room for the night.  Laughing and remembering how we all met...what it was like those first few months.  It felt like a graduation party of sorts, and although the overall tone of the night was complete joy and happiness...for the first time, I had real moments of sadness about having to leave...the city...the people...all of it.  Saying goodbye was much harder than I anticipated it would be.  I'm having a hard time even typing this, so I'm going to stop.  

All week people have been asking me if I'm sad to leave, or happy we are going home.  For me, it's kind of like asking someone if they are sad their dessert is gone when they are done eating it.  Me?  I enjoyed every last bite, and am completely satisfied.  These last two years were a gift.  An incredible gift, that came, began, and ended exactly when it was meant to happen.  

I'm getting too deep, and I think I hear a knock on the door...more to come...Three more days...

Los últimos días

Chris has been periodically muttering "los últimos días" in an ominous tone to add some drama to these almost surreal last few weeks....

Two weeks left.  Two weeks left of our two year and two month long adventure.  It's funny, I think one of the first posts on this blog was written two weeks in, and here we are, two weeks from the end.

This entry might not contain any complete sentences or thoughts, as we're leaving the island of Take It In Stride and wading into the Sea of Depletion over here...but in an effort to remember and document, I'm just going to get my thoughts out of this fried head and onto the blog.  Here it goes, in no particular order.

I'm excited.  About so much.  Seeing my family for the first time in almost a year, growing some roots again, buying a milk container that is bigger than one liter...There's a lot to feel good about right now, and I suppose I'll get to that when I'm able to gather my thoughts a little better.  The big picture is coming into view, but isn't quite in focus yet.  

For now,  I've just been trying to stay somewhat zen about this move...We've had some great times recently, bittersweet moments with friends as we wrap our head around having to say goodbye to the people we've come to regard as family here.  I believe after a little too much Malbec one night, there was a very mature, adult conversation that went a little something like this:

"Um, do you guys want to be friends forever?"
"Yes!  Do you guys?"
"Yes!"
"OK.  Glad that's settled."

But the past couple weeks it seems as if Spain is trying to get in some last minute here's-some-lemons-now-go-make-lemonade learning opportunities.  Sort of like a final exam.  For starters...

1. About four weeks ago the pipes in the ceiling above the living room/dining room/playroom/kitchen burst, and flooded the whole downstairs leaving us with no water for two days and men banging holes through what I'm sure is 100 years of plaster, paint, and stone to get to the pipes that appear to be embedded in cement.  Pipes fixed, hole left in ceiling until we move out.  Note:  words you never want to hear your kids say while you are upstairs "Something bad is happening down here!!!"  Bonus:  water was running down the stone wall and almost looked like one of the zen garden rock walls you can plug in and watch the waterfall.  Almost.

Our new ceiling art

2.  Two days ago the pipes started leaking again while I was giving the kids a bath.  I come downstairs to see water pouring out of the gaping hole in the ceiling onto the mattress we were using as a couch.  More men.  More repairs.  Mattress to the dumpster.  Onto the back up blow up bed (thanks Chris and Elaine!)

3.  Today, Mia runs across the room, flops down onto the new air mattress couch, which was apparently blown up a bit to much...as she is then immediately catapulted up off the mattress and into the rock wall.  Head gushes with blood. Chris gets called out of work by me for the second time this week to come take Mia to the ER.  Bonus:  no stitches necessary.

Brave Mia at the Children's Hospital this afternoon

4. We got nothin' left here.  Aside from some watercolors and markers, the kids are playing with muffin tins, sticks, turned over step stools and brooms, you name it.  Our shower floor is covered in balloons, rocks, and Tupperware they have decided to use as bath toys.  Bonus: I give them an A+ for creativity, and their toys are going to be all new and wonderful to them when they are reunited in less than two weeks...in their very own TOYROOM!  Also, I would like to personally shake the hand of the creator of Frozen which has been our go-to solution for those "Lord give me strength" moments this month.  I may actually like this movie more than my kids.


5.  Jordi is practically a man.  One week shy of his 7 month birthday.  Two spanking new teeth, a killer death grip on just about anything that is within reach, and some new found core strength has earned him a place at the dining table! Mia is beside herself, and practically sits in his lap at meals now trying to direct every bite of food, and smothering him with head rubs and high pitched encouragement.  He's made it quite clear he isn't into spoon feeds, so big boy is going to jump ahead to the serve yourself portion of the program, which is just fine with me!

This picture cracks me up...very 'Single White Female' 

Fork lessons

Still having moments of sadness....especially looking back at pictures of our travels.  I think I will miss that the most.  Another time...

Running out of steam here...still to come:

Next week is our last full week here  We say goodbye to Molly next Friday as she flies out before us and will be having her usual post-travel vacation pitstop at Granddad and Meemah's house on Cape Cod.  The kids saying goodbye to their teachers and school friends...It's a busy week ahead as we finish the home repairs, clean out the apartment, close accounts, and gather last minute paperwork.

The Crew

Big boy on his way to school in the morning

Sort of feels like we are bracing for impact.  Things are challenging right now, and we know it will only get harder before it gets easier, but this time we know what to expect.  For now, I'm calling it a night.  Happy Easter, everyone!

Sunnier in Seville

Last weekend we managed to squeeze in one final little bonus trip, down to Seville -- a beautiful, old city located in Southern Spain's Andalusian region.  This was a spot that had been on our wish list since we arrived, but sadly had been pushed aside for what we then thought were more glamorous options...am I glad we finally went.  Interestingly enough, it seems most southern cities have a few things in common:  the people are friendlier, the weather is nicer, religion is a bit more present in daily life, and there is a grace/refinement to the general demeanor.  Seville was no exception.  Immediately, we were struck by the beauty of this city...the ornate details in the architecture, the horse-drawn carriages, the kindness of strangers.  As much as I love Barcelona, the culture here can be a bit cold when it comes to common courtesy things.  After coming off the bus in downtown Seville, we were standing on the street corner with a map trying to determine which way to start walking to the hotel, immediately someone stopped to ask if we needed help...something that has never once happened here in Barcelona.  Additionally, I noticed everyone would make a path for me as I walked by with the stroller, whereas folks here in Barcelona will play chicken with you on the sidewalk most times, refusing to step aside.  It was refreshing to be in a such a warm, welcoming environment, and immediately made such a lasting impression with us.

This trip also marked our first trip as a family of five (plus Grammie of course)!  Jordi took his first flight, and as is the case since his birth, continues to be our angel baby.  He was a champ, thanks to the trusty Ergo carrier, basically hung happily in his pouch most of the day where he alternated eating, snoozing, and checking out his new surroundings.  We were lucky enough to have my mother join us for this adventure, and were thankful to have the extra set of hands and eyes.

We kicked the weekend off with our traditional airport breakfast:  jamón ibérico, OJ, cafe con leche, and Estrella Dam.  Claro.  

This trip was sightseeing-heavy.  Typically we do not pack this much in, because when we do we are usually left with whiny, exhausted, irritable kids; however, we pushed ourselves a bit see as much as we could see in the two and a half days we were there.  Partly because my mother was with us, and we wanted to show her a good time, but also because this was a bit of a last hurrah for us...and we figured we could endure some over baked children pain in order to address that "now or never" urgency we have come to feel almost daily at this point.  The outcome?  We saw a LOT.  The highs were high, and the lows were low (and loud).  There were some fights and whining for sure, but overall I was pretty impressed with how well they (and we) held up.


Some highlights!

*  The FOOD!  The first day we arrived, we immediately dropped our stuff at our apartment, and headed around the corner to a restaurant we had passed that looked promising, called No Kitchen.  It was incredible food -- we all shared anchovies in vinegar drizzled with olive oil, Spanish olives (of course), and an assorted plate of jamon and manchego cheese.  For the main event I had Bacalao con tomate (dried, salted cod with tomato), Chris tried the ceviche, and my mother had a shredded zucchini with homemade pesto.  To die.

After lunch we took a walk over to a nearby park, where the kids found some in-ground misters they thought were pretty cool.

*  The Alcazar: ancient palace meets botanical paradise.  This was our first stop the following morning.  Originally a Moorish Fort, this is the oldest palace still used in Europe -- it is now registered as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  You could literally spend hours wandering the thoughtfully landscaped grounds...each space with unique vegetation, architecture, layout, and purpose.

Just before heading inside, we refilled our tanks with some breakfast at an outdoor cafe...

After a long morning at Alcazar, we grabbed some lunch at a busy downtown outdoor cafe.  Although the food wasn't quite as spectacular as the previous day, the gazpacho was excellent and so was the people watching.  Once we finished lunch, we wandered in the direction of Plaza Espana, our next destination.  Along the way Chris and I bought knock off sunglasses (Ray Bivs), and stopped off at a huge, gorgeous playground to let the kids run around and play on their own terms.

* Plaza de España is a huge semi-circular building built to showcase both a Renaissance Revival style of architecture and Spain's industry and technology. Each piece of this building's facade represents a piece of Spain's history, with each little nook along the interior decorated with a bench and mosaic representation of each major Spanish city.


Little aside: Chris has this thing with boat rentals. He's been on me for two years wanting to rent these dingy (and yes, I mean dingy DIRTY, not dinghy) little row boats in Barcelona's Ciutadella Park -- the boating "pond" is a bright green murky cesspool, literally the size of a swimming pool. I don't see the draw. So when we saw the boat rentals here in Seville, Chris's face lit up as I knew it would, and I said "Go for it. Just don't let them fall in, please."


Chris was psyched.

This stop marked the end of day two...we headed home, and got the kiddos tucked into bed. My mother was nice enough to hold down the fort that evening, while Chris and I headed out to grab a drink and some tapas at a local bar -- the oldest bar in Seville! The real deal tapas kind of place, filled with locals, where the bartenders wore bow ties and used chalk on the thick mahogany bar to keep tally of everyone's drinks. So wish we had taken pictures, but as is the case with all of these local dives, cameras don't mix.

* The Seville Cathedral (or in Spanish: Catedral de Santa María de la Sede) was on the top of the list the following morning. This site, although gorgeous (the pictures will never truly do this place justice...the Cathedral extended almost the size of a city block), was a little trickier. Ok, I'll say it -- the kids were miserable. There was a fairly long wait to get in, and once inside there was a lot to see and thousands of people, which meant we had to keep very close tabs on the kids by keeping them in the stroller. They didn't like that. I believe at one point someone ended up laying on the floor in protest, and navigating the double stroller around wall to wall tourists now tops the "Never Again" charts. So, a little stressful, not the ideal way to see it, but well worth the visit I'd say -- I believe the phrase used was, "Christopher Columbus is buried inside, damn it, we're going in!".

The tomb of Christopher Columbus

We left the cathedral, rebooted with yet another spectacular tapas lunch outside, then decided to get some fresh air and roam free down by river promenade. Along the way we stopped to see the Torre del Oro, or Tower of Gold -- a historic watchtower built in the 13th century.

Next stop....


* Plaza de Toros de la Maestranza -- the oldest bullring in the world, and still fully operational. While none of us could say we are bullfighting enthusiasts, and I'm not sure I could stomach an actual bullfight, we felt like we couldn't leave Spain without seeing a bull fighting ring. This place was interesting, and full of history -- I wouldn't have put it on my "must see" list for someone else visiting, but a huge piece of the local culture, never mind a visual stunner. The color contrast between the reds, golds, and blue sky was magnificent, the pictures we took were not edited or touched up at ALL, these are the actual colors. Incredible.

                                      

I love Mia's attempt at bull horns

*  The Architecture.  Have to fit it in somewhere...it was beautiful.  Just beautiful.  I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

After the bull ring we headed back to our apartment to gather our things, check out, and head to the airport.

Our flight was a late one, the only option was to fly either early in the morning or at 9pm, so we braced ourselves for some tired kids at the end of the day.  Thankfully, all three kiddos slept the entire 1.5 hour flight.

And this entry wouldn't be complete without including Mia's plane exit.

The plane landed, and we were faced with the task of waking everyone up and getting them out of the plane and into the double stroller that was waiting for them just outside the door.  Jordi was easy, I was already holding him, so I was able to quickly slip on the Ergo, slide him in, within minutes he had nuzzled up against my chest sleeping again.  Evan was next...although sad and confused at first, he was able to be coaxed into getting up and keeping calm, and walked himself off the plane.

Then came Mia.  Now, with all due respect to Mia, we had pushed them to brink this weekend, and it was WAY past her bedtime.  She was exhausted. But: You don't. Wake. Mia.  It's like waking a lion by pulling its tail.  It never ends well.  After a few gentle back rubs and whispers, she started to stir...then, refusing to open her eyes, she just starts thrashing around with her arms and legs, letting out screams, "NO!!!  NO!!!  NO!!".  At that point I smiled turned to my brave husband and said, "You got this?" then made my hasty exit off the plane with the boys to get Evan settled and wait for the lion to disembark.

The sight of my daughter coming off this plane.  Just classic.

I could hear the screams from inside the plane while I waited with Jordi, Evan, and the double stroller just outside the plane door.  The screams continued.  Minutes ticked by.  Finally, after the last passenger got off, there was Mia standing in the doorway of the plane.  Flushed, dirt smeared face and disheveled beyond words, she was screaming bloody murder and walking like she had taken one too many tequila shots.  "MAMAAAAA!!!!" she screamed as she stumbled a crooked line down the plane's gate walkway towards the stroller.  Poor kid was donzo.  Oddly enough, as miserable as this sounds, we had to will ourselves not to laugh, the sight of her was just so classic Mia and definately spoke to the epic weekend we just had.  But this dramatic scene had a happy ending -- one stroller ride, taxi ride, and carry up to bed later -- the kids (and us) were fast asleep in our own beds.

Mia woke up the following morning, with her hair in a bee's nest, hobbling down the stairs, then limping across the living room.

"Mia, what happened?  Why are you limping, did you hurt your leg?" we asked her.
"I walked too much, my legs won't work anymore" Mia said matter-o-factly.

Now THAT my friends, is a sign of a good vacation.