Easter in Carcassonne

Has it really been almost a month since my last post?!  I've been waiting for a free moment to write a thoughtful and descriptive post about Sunday afternoons strolling la rambla while eating marinated olives soaking in the sun...however, the moment has not presented itself for quite some time.  Part of this has to do with the fact that for the past three weeks someone in this house has been violently ill requiring constant attention and care...one of those weeks, it was me, but sadly the role of "patient" does not exist well with the role of "mother", so recovery for all has been slow going and life has been more about survival than anything else.  Now, it is not my intention to spend the entire blog venting my frustrations, talking about how hard it is to live here, or how crazy my kids are driving me, but sadly I think that is all part of the "initiation" here.

Some Williams family numbers from the last three weeks:

Business trips for Chris: 2
Days I've been alone with sick kids: 6
Doctors visited: 3
Doctors who have spoken English: 2
X-rays received: 2
Antibiotic prescriptions filled: 6
Number of bottles of medication on our counter: 11
Eyes that were affected by conjunctivitis: 6
Days Evan has been in school: 30
Days Evan actually was healthy and went to school: 12
Days school was cancelled for strike: 1

Ok, with that said, let's move right along to happier times...CARCASSONNE, FRANCE!!!

Now, part of the beauty of living in Barcelona is living about a two hour drive from the south of France.  Yes, I know I'm in Spain, and yes, I know there are endless sights to see and things to enjoy in this beautiful country where I live, but I have the softest of soft spots for France.  Most know that I was lucky enough to spend a semester abroad in Paris during my junior year of college, and did quite a bit of traveling around France with my program.  I LOVED it.  The food, the countryside, the history, the wine, the cheese, oh man, there is nothing like France.  Traveling back there this weekend was almost like going home for the weekend.  I got to eat all my favorite foods, I could speak the language, and it felt incredible to be out of a city for a little while and back in the country where life is slower, calmer, and a little more familiar.  It seemed a bit soon to be traveling, especially with all of us just getting over being sick and getting life settled here, but Chris insisted that we take advantage of this opportunity to get out of the city for a couple days, and I'm so glad he did because it was exactly what we all needed. 

So: Carcassonne.  A city founded in the 5th century, most notable for a larger than life fortress, fully restored in the 1800's and one of the UNESCO World Heritage sites.  Now, I'm not even close to a history buff...to an embarrassing degree.  So I'm not going to pretend I know a ton about what went on within these castle walls, all I know is that it is an awe inspiring sight to see and even cooler that an entire CITY is located inside the castle.  Chris's co-worker and his fiancee were headed up there with some of his family for the weekend, and had kindly extended the offer for us to join them.  This was perfect because, although it proved to be very easy, renting a car and securing a foreign hotel was a little bit daunting at first, so it was great to have someone kind of take the reins for us and show us the way.  By Friday afternoon, the dog was on her way up to her mountain retreat (no joke, she may have had an even better weekend than we, she was boarded at perhaps the nicest dog "hotel" we've ever seen, located an hour north in the mountains and pristine, cared for by a British guy who runs the place...and they pick up and drop off right at your house!) and we were loaded into our Peugeot crossover headed north out of Barcelona.  We did not spring the extra 30 euro for the GPS system, so we were left with an old school map and some cached ipad directions to lead us out of the city, which was surprisingly adequate.  We are located in Poblenou, which is essentially north of the main part of Barcelona city and on the coast--right on our way to France.  Easy on, easy off, perfect.  It was pretty exciting to be back in a car again, after almost two months of not driving, it felt very freeing...only thing I missed was having my obligatory jumbo iced coffee in the cup holder. 

The kids seemed to enjoy the drive too.  Once their most hated enemy, the car seats have become somewhat of a novelty to them.  For the first hour they sat nicely, sensing the excitement of the trip and looking out the window as the scenery changed from city...to coast...to highway...to country.  However, the serene road trippin' vibe screeched to an abrupt halt when Mia suddenly decided she wanted her binkie...

Quick back story on the binkie:  For those who don't know, Mia was a colicky, sad little newborn.  Neither she, nor I, slept more than two hours at a time during the first seven months of her life, and there was very little aside from me that brought her comfort...until the Wubbanub.  A Nobel prize worthy contraption, the Wubbanub is a green soothie pacifier attached to a little stuffed animal.  They are magical little pacifiers that stay put in a newborn mouth, are easy to find for older babies in their cribs, and are machine washable.  Most importantly, they helped Mia sleep.  They brought her comfort, and gave me a break from the near constant nursing, rocking, and singing that was involved in her first year of life.  In the Wubbanub hay day, we had about 6 of them.  We could just add more into the mix when she was smaller and she would happy plug any of them in, and pass out.  However, typical Mia, once she hit around 13-14 months, she stopped accepting new members.  If we lost one, and tried to replace it--even with an identical match--she knew it was a replacement and rejected it.  It was pretty amazing to watch.  We would casually hand her the new one hoping she wouldn't notice and just use it, but sure enough she would immediately hold it at arms length, inspecting it with a furrowed brow, look into the stuffed animal's eyes, then throw it out of her crib with a vengeance.  Slowly, slowly, the binkie population has been dwindling.  Little kitty was lost on a trip to the wading pool in Topsfield during the summer...Blue pony made his exit during a trip to Whole Foods during the fall.  So on and so forth.  And unfortunately, as the population dwindles, she seems to be becoming more and more attached to them.  It used to be a "sleep only" kind of thing, and now she is wandering around with the thing hanging from her mouth night and day.  Some may argue: "Just take them away!  She is 18 months, and too old for a pacifier anyway".  True enough, except I'm sad to admit I'm afraid of what life would be like without them at this point.  I'm still somewhat scarred from the sleepless year of 2011 and I'm not sure I'm ready for an epic battle to the end (which is what it would be) especially with all of this change going on.  So, as we took off for Barcelona, we had just two left.  The dog, the original who started it all and her very favorite, and the giraffe.  As soon as we got here, I had a bad feeling the binkie days were limited.  I mean, we spend the majority of the day traveling around via stroller all over the city, and Mia has a bad habit of tossing them out randomly when she gets excited or angry.  There have been many days of back tracking during a walk, or having store owners chasing after us to give us the binkie they found inside the store.  However, we managed to hang on to both of them since we've been in Barcelona.  Until last week. 

The kids and I were out for an early morning walk last Wednesday with the dog while Chris was away in Amsterdam for business.  Chris had just called, so I was trying to talk on the cell phone while simultaneously pushing the double stroller, and holding onto the dog leash.  Usually I'm pretty good about keeping watch for any binkie tossing, but I was distracted and by the time I hung up, I realized that Mia was now holding her slipper, and not her binkie.  Shit.  I was almost home, tired, and knew that if I turned around, the kids would start getting cranky and antsy to get out.  However, ever a slave to the almighty binkie, I turned us right around and backtracked our entire 30 minute walk to see if I could find it.  Twice.  Nothing.  There are tons of sanitation workers constantly cleaning the park, which is of course a good thing, except when you lose something.  I had a feeling one worker in particular might have picked it up, so I walked back to where I thought it might be been lost, and saw the sanitation worker with a big bucket he was putting all the trash inside.  Ew.  I had to stop myself and think rationally--even if he had picked it up, could I even wash it enough to ever think about giving that to my child to SUCK ON?!  Probably not, but I was not thinking rationally, I was just panicked that I had lost THE binkie and I would go back to never sleeping again.  So I walked up to the man, and ridiculously said, "Tiene usted"  **insert motion of me putting something in my mouth** "para los ninos?"  The man looked angry, and shook his head.  I think he may have thought I was asking for a cigarette for my children, but who knows.  So we headed home, one binkie down, one to go.

One of the last pictures taken of doggie dinkie

The days followed, and there were moments when Mia would specifically ask for the late dog binkie, pitch a fit, and swat away the giraffe when I offered him as consolation.  I had hoped that after a few days, she would accept that doggie "dinkie" (as Mia calls them) was gone, and it was giraffe or nothing from this point forward.  The plan was to just leave it in her crib for sleep, and stop taking them out of the house, even if she missed them, it was time to start limiting them, and now was the time since there was only one left.

SO, back to the car ride.  After about an hour into the trip, we hear the little voice from the back...."oggie dinkie".  Mia is looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to hand the beloved creature over.  I hand her giraffe, and turn back to the front, only to see the giraffe hit the windshield 2 seconds later, followed by a whine and  "OGGIE DINKIE".  Again, I hand her the giraffe, and again it nearly pelts me in the head, only this time she is no longer whining, she is full on screaming like I didn't know kids could scream.  Evan did not even come close to preparing me for what a toddler is capable of.  Now, I'm not saying Evan is perfect, but he is pretty darn easy.  He always slept like a champ, rarely, if ever, has thrown a temper tantrum, and just generally goes with the flow.  I took away his binkie at 5 months, I don't think he even noticed.  I took away the bottle around a year, he didn't even bat an eye.  I had no idea that an 18th month old child is capable of asserting themselves the way Mia can.  It is actually pretty amazing sometimes, you can never put anything over on her, she is just so darn astute, and BOY is she strong willed.  And loud.  Girls have an extra vocal cord I think.  The next hour or so was less than pleasant, as Mia made it quite known she had not yet fully mourned the loss of doggie dinkie and there wasn't a cracker, drink, book, toy, doll, or song that would take its place.  Yes, the loss of doggie dinkie was bad timing, right before a fun trip, but eh, it happens.  I wasn't going to let a screaming child ruin the fact that we were in France, and I knew someday, we would look back on the miserable hour in the car and laugh...that day has not come yet, but I know it will.

I digress.  This is sad, here I am trying to describe a road trip to a medieval castle in France, and I'm rambling on about pacifiers and temper tantrums.  This is my life.

ANYWAY, as soon as we crossed the boarder into France (which is pretty much the same as crossing over from Massachusetts into Rhode Island--there is no "check point", just a sign welcoming us to France) it just looked different.  Even Chris, the biggest critic when it comes to France, said the landscape almost immediately changes to the most beautiful rolling country side you've ever seen.  We drive right by the Pyrenees--expansive and snow capped--and see pristine farms framed by windmills. 


Snow capped Pyrenees

The trees are shorter, and the landscape is soft, gentle and inviting.  We arrived at our destination, Carcassonne, around 5:30pm, and checked into our adorable little hotel.  The room itself was TEENY TINY, room enough for just a full sized bed, with a little twin bunk over head, and a bathroom that has a toilet essentially inside a "shower" that is really just a spout coming out from the wall and a curtain around the corner--it made Grandad's boat head look like a 3 bedroom apartment.

But we loved it...it appeared to be family owned, and the folks were very friendly and could put on a killer breakfast in the AM, complete with real French croissant and coffee strong enough to put hair on your chest.  We got settled into the place, then immediately headed out to the actual castle city, so we could walk around and meet up with the rest of our friends for dinner.  The city of Carcassonne actually has two parts--the downtown city area, which is actually pretty quiet and sleepy as far as cities go, and then once you pass through the down town area, you are smacked in the face with the sight of the giant castle, which encases a "medieval city".

Chris and Evan at the castle entrance

Inside the castle is now mostly just a tourist attraction, but beautifully kept and full of very quaint shops, restaurants, cafes, hotels, and plenty of nooks to find and explore.  This weekend there was a festival going on, so there were several free performances, tented expos, shows, street performers, and folks in medieval garb. 

The first night we wandered around the medieval city and I pretty much just sported a perma-grin.  All of us met for dinner at a fabulous restaurant, and I remembered how much I love French food...the best part is that most places have a fixed menu that offers three or four courses with a couple different options to choose from within each course, which is the best way to sample all the great local cuisine.  The salads are always incredible (something I've been missing in Barcelona, not a lot of salads or veggies unless you buy and prepare it at home) and you can have CHEESE for dessert.  This evening, I dined on amazing French bread, goat cheese salad, cod with a cream sauce and a side of mushroom/grains kind of thing, and creme brulee for dessert...heaven.  The kids even stayed awake and happy until 11 PM at dinner (and for anyone who really knows me and my children, this UNHEARD of), and seemed to enjoy their first taste of real French french fries :)  Our dinner table represented three different countries, and four different languages were spoken at one point or another.  It was a long, fun dinner full of wine and excited energy.

First French baguette

After dinner, we walked over to a huge courtyard inside the castle, where they were showing a projection animation depicting the Catholic crusades against the Cathars which took place at the castle in the 13th century...somewhat hard to follow in French, but a beautiful show, captivating even Mia and Evan. 

Not a great picture, but you get the idea

We headed back to our hotel late Friday night, put the sleeping kiddos in their beds, and tried to rest up for what would be a long day of sightseeing the next day.  Thankfully, we remembered our good camera on this trip,  so we made sure to remember it on Saturday and put Chris was in charge of documenting the day on film...we started the day early, of course, around 7am the kiddos were up and ready to go, so we got ourselves up and out, had a great breakfast at the hotel, and headed back over to the castle.  This time, we parked just outside downtown, so we could walk around the downtown city area, and then walk up the hill to the castle.  We found a beautiful park with some green spaces, and let the kids run around before heading up to the castle again. 

It was a short walk up the hill to the castle, here you can see it above the roof tops...

Chris powering the double stroller up the hill..Evan is on foot, and was in total awe of the place

Inside the castle

Mia enjoying my favorite French street food - ham and cheese crepes

Kids were getting a little cranky so Chris and I decided it was time for  a beer...

"Kids?!  I can't hear any kids."

On a mission...with a binkie.

We headed back to the hotel around 2pm so the kids could take a nap, and I did some exploring around the hotel area...there was a little shopping mall so I popped in to get some everyday stuff we needed, fully taking advantage of the fact that I can talk and find what I need!!!

Saturday was capped off with another late dinner, this time outside the castle in a wonderful restaurant downtown.  Sadly, we seemed to have pushed too far expecting the kids to stay awake until midnight TWO nights in a row, because about halfway through our fantastic dinner (mind you, it was now 10:30 at night, and 2 hours into the dinner), they started to meltdown and we had to bow out early...no worries, I got my stinky cheese to go, and enjoyed it with a nice bottle of French wine and a brick of chocolate back home in Barcelona for Easter Sunday lunch :)  All in all, I'd say it was a successful trip.  It gave Chris and I the confidence we needed to know we CAN in fact travel around Europe with two small children, even better that it can be done so cheaply...the car was only 60 euros for the weekend, and the hotel was also super cheap.  It was such a confidence booster for me to be back in France and remember that I also felt out of place and scared when I first arrived there as a college student, and eventually it felt comfortable to me and I grew to love the differences from the US.  This will happen here in Spain too.  Even now, crossing back over the Spanish border on Sunday afternoon, Chris and I both agreed it felt good to be "home".   

Feeling the love

I'm not going to lie...I've had a lot of hard days since I've been here.  And honestly, I think it has more to do with having two toddlers 20 months apart then it does with living in a foreign country.  Some folks are just born jugglers, and can roll with chaos.  I'm calm, most of the time, but require a certain level of organization and structure to function (VIR-GO)--neither of which are currently present here in Spain.  I had life down to a science at home in the US.  I ordered 75% of our stuff online--clothes, toiletries, diapers, dog food-- you name it, I had it delivered to our door step.  Anything I could do to minimize shopping with my children, I did.  I had sippie cups filled in the fridge the night before ready to go when the kids woke up.  I had frozen waffles and Elmo on TV (yes, my kids watched TV, a necessary evil when you have two so darn close together).  I had an abundance of family members ready and willing to help,  watching the kids while I grocery shopped for the ENTIRE WEEK, and had a schedule so tight nothing could break it.  Naps followed lunch, eaten at noon, and bedtime was 6pm sharp.  If Mia woke in the middle of the night, I had a microwave to heat a bottle of milk, and within minutes she was back down.  The children had sound machines, and we could practically throw a keg party downstairs after they were in bed--they would never hear a thing.  Oh, and the dog.  Walking her involved opening our front door.  Half the time we would forget she was out there, and find her, 30 minutes later, emerging from the marsh covered in mud.  That was the hardest part of the day.  Figuring out how to clean the dog.

Now strip all of that away.  The kids sleep a stone's throw from where we sleep, and if we even step foot outside our door before they are up, they hear it and wake up.  We are in a city, so even though we live on a pedestrian street, it is still loud and there are people talking, kids playing, trucks unloading fruit, motorcycles racing, and dogs barking.  And we hear it all.  I can hear the people above us flushing their toilet for God's sake.  The sound machines were fried day one due to a faulty plug converter, so there went those.  We have no TV, so the second the kids wake up, it is all me and Chris to keep them happy and entertained while we make breakfast, which no longer involves popping waffles in the toaster.  Cheerios exist in a far away store not worth my time or effort to go to (a story for another time).  Then there is the issue of shopping.  I get bread from the grocery store, cheese from the cheese vendor, turkey meat from the fresh market, fruits and veggies one block away, and fish from a market down the road, toiletries across the walk, and baguettes from the natural market.  You get the picture.  No joke, I hit maybe 8 stores a day--yes, they are all very close to my house, but it is still a lot.  Much to Molly's benefit, she requires actual walks now, either to the dog park or the big park by the beach, so there is no half assing there either.  It took me a solid 3 weeks to find good quality dog food (I'm a dog food snob, anything I can do to prolong her life, I'll do) which requires a metro ride and an hour out of our lives to obtain.  The upside is that all of us, Molly included, are a much slimmer version of ourselves after all this work.

I could go on and on, but don't want to sound like I'm whining (even though I am).  Of course, there are parts of living here that are easier too.  The laid back lifestyle, the proximity to outdoor space, the abundance of great fresh food, Chris walking to work, the pharmacies (a blog entry in itself--I'm obsessed).  I could go on and on.  The point is, everything that was mindless at home now requires energy, time, and effort here.  Finding a book.  Getting a haircut.  Going to a doctor.  Ordering meat.  For now, it's just harder.   I know there will be a time when it is easier, and overall life here will again be seamless, but it doesn't change the fact that there is a breaking in period, and we are in the thick of it.  Then, there is this issue of the language barrier.  I won't lie, it totally sucks.  Not because people are rude, or you can't get what you need, just because you want so badly to talk to people and connect with them...and you can't.  You have these moments, all the time, when people on the street smile at you when they see Molly or notice the kids doing something cute, then say something to me...and I have no idea what they are saying.  I always smile and say "si, si"  because I have nothing else to say.  Chris and I laugh about this constantly, he does the same thing at work.  Just praying that saying "yes, yes" will hide the fact that you are totally clueless.  For all I know they could be saying, "get control of your kids, you American idiot" and I'm just smiling away, agreeing.  I tried my hardest to get some kind of Spanish foundation before I came, but planning a move to another continent completely zapped me of any excess energy or time I had to devote to Rosetta Stone.  Or maybe I was just being lazy.  Regardless, I had taken exactly three months of Spanish in 7th grade, and then it was all French from that point forward throughout college.  I.  Knew.  Nothing.  Yet, in four weeks I have to say, I have surprised myself.  I can order turkey.  I can order fish.  I walked into a salon, and asked if they cut children's hair (I'll admit, there was a significant amount of cramming with google translate beforehand, but I got my point across and Evan looks great).  People will tell you that you'll "pick up" a language just by being immersed in it.  I think that is bull.  In order to learn, you need to make a serious effort to learn, and that means classes, lessons, tutors, and practice.  Hence, Spanish class for me begins next week, two nights per week.  But, I will tell you that in three weeks, I understand a hell of a lot more now than I did when I got here.  More and more, I am actually understanding what people are saying to me, and I find that when you RELAX, loosen up, and stop panicking--you hear a lot.  It is hard initially not to freeze up when you know someone is about to ask you something and you won't know what to say back, but lately I've been focusing very hard on just listening.  They won't start hitting you if you don't know what they are saying, and eventually the point will get across, so there is no sense in worrying about it.  Since I've realized this, I've made progress.  I went to get lunch at a local take out place, and asked for grilled calamari...the owner then said "with rice or potatoes?"  and I knew what he said  (P.S., this amazing lunch was 4 euro!!!)  Not a big deal, but progress.  Similarly, the other day I took Evan into the cafe with me to get a coffee, and the owner started talking to him.  After a few minutes he looked at me and asked, "does he understand?" and I knew what he was asking me.  Again, nothing major, but that is progress for me.  I also spend a lot of time listening to the other mother's at the park.  There are times when they approach me and start talking, but again, since the language barrier exists, the conversation doesn't go too far and I'm left alone again.  That is when it makes me sad, and I can't wait to just speak Spanish already.

But this is the amazing part of living here: there is ALWAYS a silver lining.  And not just a silver lining, but a brilliant, stunning, stop you in your tracks lining, that brings you to tears.  To put it in simple terms, I feel the love here.  I feel taken care of and looked after in a way I didn't expect.  This comes from both the Catalan people, and the ex-pat community, and it is amazing. 

Today at the park...It was 6pm, late for us to be out walking, but I took advantage of the beautiful weather and sun and kept going.  We passed by a playground Evan particularly loves, so I tied the dog up, and let the kids run around.  Now, Evan had not napped today, so I knew he was tired and generally that can mean trouble, but he was in great spirits having a ball so I just went with it.  At one point there was a spinning ride/toy he wanted to use, but some older kids were using it going too fast for him to join in, so he had to wait his turn...on a normal morning that wouldn't have phased him, but at 6pm with no nap, that means sadness-->anger-->push Mia-->run in opposite direction.  I could see this nice late walk deteriorating fast, so I attempted to wrangle the troops to head home, except it was too late.  Evan was pissed, and no longer willing to walk nicely beside me, and Mia was feeding off the vibe, and pitching a fit refusing to get back in the stroller OR carrier.  I looked around to see how many people were staring at this ridiculous scene of me stepping on the leash to keep Molly close, holding Evan in the stroller with one hand, and trying to strap flailing, screaming Mia in the carrier with the other.  Yup, defiantly stares.  The cynical Bostonian in me gets angry, assuming people are judging me for being an incompetent mother.  Or maybe it's just me, and I blame it on Boston.  But no, there was no judgement.  The same two women who were staring, then came over to me, slipped the shoulder strap of the carrier on my shoulder, fastened the back snap, and put her hand on Mia's head smiling at her.  "Que pasa?"  she said, in the sweetest voice, as Mia looked back at her, silent with her tear stained face in disbelief like, "will you be my mother?"  The woman then put her hand on MY back, smiled at me, and walked with us to the street.  Everyone was silent.  Beautiful, amazing silver lining. 

These moments  happen almost every day.  When you think the world is out to get you, and nothing can go right, you are reminded of the beauty and kindness of the people here, and your whole perspective changes.  The elderly man on the metro who INSISTED that I take his seat while I had Mia in the carrier...I sat down, and as soon as the seat next to me opened up, he sat down in it with his friend next to him.  Periodically, while he was talking to his friend, he would turn to Mia, smiling and cooing at her, reaching out to touch her hand when she reached for him (she was obsessed with this guy).  It melts your heart to see a 70 year old man, out for a ride on the train with his friend, so taken with a 17 month old little girl.  Now, I can imagine this all sounds weird to folks at home (I can hear my sister Mer now, screaming at me to be careful).  Americans, or at least this American, generally don't tolerate other people touching our kids, or getting in our personal space, but here is feels totally natural.  It could have something to do with the fact that there is practically zero violent crime in Barcelona, or that I live in a very family oriented neighborhood, but it feels like everyone is just looking out for you here.  It feels nice, especially when you are away from your actual family.

And it doesn't stop with the locals.  When we found out we were moving to Barcelona, one of the folks at Vistaprint's HR office gave me the name and number of another wife of a Vistaprint employee, moved here early in 2010. I remember emailing her for the first time, nervous that she would be annoyed to hear the same questions I'm sure she has heard many times over.  Imagine my shock when I received a long, warm, welcoming email in response...full of advice and support. She didn't even know me, but literally held my hand throughout the moving process, took us out to dinner with her husband when we were here for our house hunting trip, and listened to me vent my first week here over dinner.  The ex-pat community is intense...you know you need each other, you know there is limited time to know eachother, so there is no beating around the bush.  Yesterday was the perfect example.  I go to a certain park in Poblenou quite frequently.  It has a fence to contain my little wanderer, Mia, and is usually filled with young kids under 2 in the mornings.  I like going there because Mia can play with other kids, and I can eavesdrop and try and learn some new Spanish words.  So yesterday, as I went to save Mia from walking in front of the swings, I caught the eye of another mother, who then said, "Hi".  WHOA.  English hits me like a sledgehammer these days, because I never hear it.  She was the first English speaking mother I'd met in my neighborhood, so this was huge.  Now, being the usual sketchball I am, I said, "Hi" back, but didn't ask where she was from, and just followed Mia as she toddled away.  But this woman would have none of that.  She followed me and asked me if I spoke English, to which she followed with, "what, are you from New York or something?"  I liked her immediately.  Within four minutes, she had my name, phone number, email, and was already adding me to her email list for her playgroup.  It was like speed dating for ex-pats.  She had been here for four years, and once I told her I just got here, she was in full on "get under my wing" mode.  I loved it.  She even called that night to apologize for being on the phone while we said goodbye, and emailed the name of someone she met last week from Canada for us to connect.  And it doesn't stop there.  There has been on outpouring of folks, mostly through Vistaprint, learning I'm new in town and offering to meet up.  Now, I'm not one to make new friends easily. I don't consider myself mean or rude, I'm just on the shyer side and I'm not great at approaching people.  To come here, has been a whole new world.  I think that alone can change you for the better. 

Looking Back

This may be a little backwards, but I wanted to post some pictures that have captured the last few weeks/months.  The beauty of having an iphone, or any phone with a camera, is that you always have it with you to capture life's moments that are unexpected but important.  As I was going through my phone looking at the pictures yesterday, I was pretty amazed at the story they told...From when I was pregnant with Mia, until yesterday at the park, we have every important moment captured, even if just with one picture.  So here is a little slide show into our lives...

Jump back to November 29, 2011, our house hunting trip here to Barcelona.  These pictures of Chris and I are taken at the Zurich airport, our layover on the way to Barcelona.  It was after a very long overnight flight, so we were a little giddy and out of it at this point, excited and nervous for the 5 days ahead of us. 

 Chris and I enjoying the fact that we are in Zurich, alone, in front of two really good beers.

We spent five days in Barcelona, and toured 4 of the neighborhoods we were interested in.  After looking at close to 20 apartments, we decided on a winner.  We loved everything about it.  The trip itself was a little more stress filled than either of us expected--we missed the kids and we were totally exhausted mentally and physically.  But overall, the trip was a success.  We met up with some other Vistaprint families during our time here, and felt good about our new home. 

View of our apartment from the outside patio

Meat counter at the fresh market

Before we headed back to the US, we managed to quickly run through the XMAS markets that had just started here in Barcelona that weekend.  It is a huge outdoor market filled with vendors selling handmade crafts, ornaments, wreaths, trees, and jewelry.  It was fun to see all the decorations, and shop from the local vendors for some family souvenirs before jumping a cab back to the airport. 

XMAS markets

Giant cathedral located just next to the XMAS market

Chris's snack at the airport: ham flavored potato chips...the pig leg on the front doesn't seem appetizing to me...

View from the plane on our way back to Zurich to catch our flight back to Boston

The next two months were, how shall I put this...freaking stressful.  The original plan was to be out by January first, but after deciding on an unfurnished apartment, we realized we needed to ship all of our furniture which was going to take at least six weeks if not longer.  We braced ourselves for the months ahead of packing, planning, organizing, and of course, filling out more paperwork. 

I found this one day in the office and had to laugh, even the stress had gotten to poor Dolly.

Through the packing and planning, we managed to have some fun, and keep our sense of humor.  This was a fun way of using the many boxes all over the house, and letting our imaginations run wild.  We had a ball, and the kids LOVED painting each other.

December was drawing to a close, and more than anything, we just focused on enjoying the holidays with our families.  There were so many celebrations...dinners out, a surprise party, and low key days and nights spent with family and friends in the weeks leading up to our departure.  Although it was a busy time with the move and the holidays, we were so thankful to have our family and friends there to support us and wish us well.  I do have pictures from many of these gatherings and events, but can't seem to find them at the moment.  But a big thank you, again, to everyone who took the time to be with us during our last few months in the US.  We felt (and continue to feel) very loved, and were so happy to have had that time with everyone. 

The months flew by, and before we knew it, it was February and time to get going.  Our last week in the US was spent packing and having some last goodbyes with our parents.  Here we are out to dinner the night before we left with Nannie (Judie) at a local Irish pub. 
 

Miss Mia loving her hoodsie sundae!

Much to his excitement, we had an early birthday cake for Evan in the house before we left.  He's 3!

At dinner with Nannie Judie before our departure to NYC the next day

The morning of our move...poor kiddos watching Sesame Street on the floor :(  Note the Cheerios all over the place, I did NOT feed them off the floor, we did still have bowls at that point!

Our last day in our house was a long and busy one, but pretty smooth...The movers were gone by 4pm, and our house was completely empty by 6pm.  We did one last walk through, taking in the fact that we were leaving our first home.  I admit, I cried and wondered if we were doing the right thing.  That house symbolized starting our life together...when we moved in, I pictured our future inside it with kids running down the halls and a dog laying on the porch.  It was everything we imagined it to be, and was something we were so proud to have purchased together.  It was hard to leave...even though we knew the buyers would love it just as much as we did, they are a young couple about to get married, just like Chris and I were when we bought it. It was a great house, but it was time to move on.  So, we gathered up the last of our stuff, packed into our rental car, and headed down to NYC to check into our hotel.  We stopped at Chili's for dinner on the way, and made it to NYC just around midnight.

All packed up and ready to go!  En route to NYC, our first stop before flying out he next day to BCN

Dropping off rental car at the JFK airport, waiting for our cab to the terminal

We had an absurd amount of luggage...

Happy as clams with lollipops at the luggage check in...it was an hour in line, so I was thankful we had treats ready to go...

Our plane!

Burning some energy before boarding...they were running in circles around the terminal laughing...they entertained the rest of the passengers for sure

Mia loved jumping off the window sill, so proud of herself

 The flight to Barcelona was pretty good, all things considering. The kids had had a crazy week of missed naps, sleeping in pack and plays, and movers in and out of the house leading up to the flight out.  The night in the hotel in NYC wasn't exactly the most restful, we had to wake them up at midnight to get them in the hotel, then spent all day getting ourselves to the airport and checked in, so that meant no naps, but they held it together pretty well. I was especially impressed with Evan... He just smiled through it all, enjoying the adventure.  Miss Mia was a little more, how shall we say this...pissed off. She is a girl that likes her beauty sleep, and to stick to her routine.  She also likes to be able to run whenever and wherever she wants, so the day in the airport was tricky, but we made it. I decided to bring the carseats on board, which was a pain to drag through the airport, but totally made it worthwhile when, just as we taxied down the runway, both kids were completely passed out and stayed that way until we arrived in Barcelona. Chris and I exchanged relieved glances, clinked mini-wine bottles, and breathed a sigh of relief. We were on our way. 

The boys snooooozing away...about halfway to Barcelona!

 We got to Barcelona at 7am in the morning, and decided to head right to the apartment.  We knew our furniture hadn't been delivered yet, but we just wanted to get inside and see it again.  At the time, we had delusions that we would just stay there without our furniture--Chris's co-worker had nicely arranged the delivery of our beds from IKEA the week before, so we all had someplace to sleep.  But once we were there, I knew we needed to just check into a hotel.  We didn't have towels, soap, nothing we needed...regardless, we set up the pack and plays, and put the kids down for a nap in their new rooms as soon as we arrived, and Chris and I laid down on our mattress in our new room.  Dazed, a little shell shocked, and pondering what to do next, we drifted off to sleep using our jackets as pillows.  When we all woke up, about 3 hours later, we headed down to the beach to have some lunch, and plan the next move.  We went to a fabulous cafe, called Cafe Blu--the best salad and pizza EVER. 

We made it!  Our first lunch in Barcelona, enjoying some pizza and salad in our new neighborhood, Poblenou

A little tired...

Walking down to the beach, hitting the playground on the way

Determined!

At the end of La Rambla, beach ahead of us! 

Evan playing with the other kids on the jungle gym

Loving the beach

Evan, in deep thought as he stares at the Med Sea

 After lunch, we decided to check into a nearby hotel to wait until our furniture cleared customs.   We headed back to the apartment, gathered what we needed, and grabbed a cab to the hotel, about 5 blocks away. 

Tired and a little grumpy...waiting to check into our hotel in Barcelona

Jet lag is setting in, day 2 in Barcelona

 After two days in the hotel, Chris managed to use a little brute force to get the customs agents to hand over the goods, and on Friday we were in our apartment, with all our stuff!  We had a lot of unpacking to do, but we were HOME.

Our shipping container arrived!  Evan is reunited with his first love...his train table.  He hasn't seen it in two months!

Toys!

First lunch in our new house

 Friday evening, we got another wonderful delivery...MOLLY!  We had used a pet relocation service to ship Molly, who had flown out mid day on Thursday.  I was worried all day Friday, thinking about her and hoping she was OK.  She flew on a great airline, Luftansa, that actually had a pet hotel at her layover site in Germany where we was able to go for a walk, eat, and drink before heading on to her final destination in Barcelona.  I received an update at 4pm that she had arrived in Barcelona, and was waiting to clear customs.  At 6pm we got a knock on the door, and there she was!  Wagging up a storm!  We were so happy to see her, and very thankful she arrived safely. 

Molly is here!

Molly's first trip to the beach, SOOOOO happy

Making doggie friends

Some more random photos...

Evan playing at the playground on his birthday

Making crepes for breakfast...a new twist on his old favorite, pancakes

On our morning stroll down la rambla in Poblenou

Mia got sick the second week we were here...here she is watching elmo on the laptop, trying to cheer her up!