Category Archives: Family

Delayed.

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I can’t believe I’ve been away from my blog for so long. Especially since I started this blog in January 2011 after learning my family and I were going overseas to live for 3 years. Since then I’ve shared posts about military life, creating a home, my world as a mother and various moments in my life. However, when it came down to the actual move and our transition to life in Madrid, I found myself unable to write about my experience. Not knowing where to start, I probably would have just set aside this blog if it wasn’t for my dear friend, Katie of NNY Life, a fellow writer and very missed friend from New York. Through her help, I realized how much I miss writing and how this blog is more necessary then ever.

In the beginning, the Army was sending us to Portugal and I was incredibly excited by the opportunity. Tom and I had been trying to get an overseas assignment for over 10 years and it seemed the Army Gods finally decided to smile upon us. However, in a few months the Army changed it’s mind and we learned our orders were on hold and we were going to Madrid.

This wasn’t welcome news. My family and I love coastal living and we had spent hours combing through information and photographs about Lisbon. We found schools, neighborhoods, a playgroup and even made a list of places we must visit in those early months. While Madrid is certainly a unique European city and a popular tourist destination, it just didn’t feel right to me. I was disappointed and for the first time in my husband’s career, I asked him to seek a different assignment. Others thought I was insane and part of me thought I was too. I started spouting off all the incredible opportunities my family would have in Madrid and I always nodded encouragingly when others commented on how excited I must be to move to such an exotic city.

But I was right. Madrid has been a hard transition, one difficult to share since so much of my experience is still fresh and even ongoing. When we arrived we had a car service take us to an apartment we rented in the city of Madrid. On paper it seemed ideally situated: minutes from the metro, within walking distance to amazing sites in the city, and in what was described as a vibrant part of the city, Chueca. The apartment was modern and beautiful, with two bedrooms and a kitchen that possibly prevented the starvation of my little family. Unfortunately, I also arrived three months pregnant and incredibly sick. Nausea followed me everywhere and a month of living with family and traveling back and forth across the United States had not helped. I was grouchy, exhausted, and frustrated, but I kept on pushing through everything, determined to make Madrid wonderful.

Our street in Madrid.

Only this time my methods weren’t working. Even though we lived within walking distance of some of the most loved parts of the city, I could not find anything to connect with, something vital when constantly moving. To start with, Chueca, while a great neighborhood to visit, is not the best to place for a young family used to their beautiful Northern New York home with a sprawling backyard. Restaurants and bars were everywhere and drunken shouts and laughter drifted through our windows until nearly 4:00 am. I was sick from the moment I woke until the moment I fell asleep and found myself constantly up and down with Regan who was restless and waking more than ever. Seeking relief, I would throw open my windows to the smell of pee, garbage, and stale cooking. I dreaded leaving the apartment, but I couldn’t hunker down. I had two girls and a husband wanting to get out and a family to feed. We wandered the city, visiting some of the more beautiful sites and walking the streets, but so much was forced for me. Our long metro rides to and from Tom’s work were exhausting and almost impossible with my nausea and two little girls. But I did it. Looking back, I probably should have just sat down and cried (and I did a couple of times, after sending Tom and the girls out to find something for dinner). It may not have helped, but I would have felt much better.

Meals became one of the biggest obstacles our family faced. I was sick and cooking made me gag, so I hoped to use the extra money we received for food to eat out as much as possible. Before moving to Spain, I read about restaurants closing at 4:30 pm and not opening again until 8 or 9 at night, but I thought it was a few select restaurants. I was mistaken, as we discovered our first evening in Spain. We explored the streets, searching for somewhere to eat, but found nothing available except bars and I wasn’t taking my girls and my pregnant belly into a bar. So we ended up with sandwiches from Starbucks. Only they weren’t that delicious…hmm, I thought. That’s odd. Everything in Spain is supposed to be delicious, right? Even Starbuck’s food. Except that it wasn’t. After several expensive meals of wasted food and even tears from my little girls, we realized it was best to feed everyone at home, shopping from the little grocery and market (Mercado) around the corner. So pushing down the vomit in the back of my throat, I cooked everyday and thanked the idea fairy that had me throw that jar of peanut butter into my suitcase the day before flying.

(In all fairness, we did find a little cafe/deli/take away next door to our apartment that offered tasty sandwiches, salads, and desserts. The owner had lived in Boston for 26 years…so maybe that explains the appeal of his food. Many times Tom would go over and get food for the two of us while I put the girls to bed then crashed in a nauseous heap on our own bed.The owner loved seeing Tom walk through the door and often sent him home with free, fresh, icy lemonade for me and custard for the girls. We will happily visit Diurno cafe for some sandwiches and fresh smoothies every time we’re in the area.)

The truth is that I have yet to become comfortable in Spain. We have seen some beautiful places, walked down amazing streets, and splashed on a pristine beach. And while I’ve captured those moments on camera and tried to write about them, it all felt fake without the truth about how I’m feeling about Spain right now. I have met some interesting, caring people to include the Kenyan man selling papers outside our grocery in Chueca, our apartment building manager who absolutely adored the girls, and the many established American’s who’ve made this transition a little easier. E and R both love their schools and Tom is getting settled at work and taking to Spain far better than I am. Still, I don’t feel comfortable. This is not common for me. I have moved 17 times in my adult life and this is my 14th with Tom. I know what to do to make a new home. I have a method, a way of throwing myself into a community, but it is really difficult here; I cannot manage to overcome this slump. Maybe it is because I miss the little life we made for ourselves in Northern New York so much, maybe it is because I made that fateful decision to study German in high school and French in college (both of which I speak very, very poorly), or maybe I just have the wrong attitude about the whole experience, but I’m trying. I swear.

And I’ll continue to try to make a little home here…maybe blogging about our adventures and some of the more hilarious moments will make me feel better about our experience. So check back next week as I share our last days in the United States and our first two months in Spain. I obviously failed at this, but hope to make it up soon! I hope that some of my readers can learn something from my experience and maybe make some better decisions (like yes, take advantage of the free version of Rosetta Stone offered by the military and learn some of your host country’s native language), but I also hope that I find some assurance that I simply did the best I could.

I’m Back?

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Yes. It has been 4 weeks since I’ve posted to my blog. And while I don’t know where to begin, I know I have to write or I’ll let this slip into oblivion. The good stuff, Spain, is just about to start and I hate to disappoint my fabulous readers!

In the last 29 days since I last posted, I have finally made it out of our home and am on the first leg of our journey to Spain (a stop at the in-laws). Next week will find us in Arizona, followed by a brief stop in Pittsburgh before hopping a plane for our new home!

I was also blown away by some unexpected news. Our adventure in Spain will now include a pregnancy and new baby.Yes, baby number 3 will be making it’s Spanish appearance in Spring 2012. Tom is actually hoping for a Leap Day Baby (of course). This changes some plans for me, but I’m finally learning to get over the shock. I’m now dealing with exhaustion and nausea and all the other fun things that visit during an early pregnancy.

We found out one week before we were leaving our home. I was comatose for a few days, then scrambling to finish the laundry, sorting, packing and cleaning before the packers came. It was absolute chaos. My calm, organized process was thrown aside for chaotic scrambling, manic laundry folding, and some occasional screeching. We made it, thanks to a last-minute decision to take the kids to our in-laws a few days ahead of us.

I miss my friends terribly. I miss the lake and the farmer’s market and my backyard. I miss my home. I’m a little sad that another family is already in it (and were in the home about an hour after we left), but it is a sweet home and I hope the military family who is renting it will enjoy it as much as we did.

I hope this renews my blog. I can’t wait to get pictures up to include some of my empty home as well! (That is always so strange!) Thank you all for your patience, I promise, Spain is coming!

For My Dad

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For Father’s Day, I thought I would share a bit about my father and how he’s impacted me as a mother. I don’t talk about how fabulous fathers are nearly as often as I should, but I’m going to fix that right now. (I know Tom, I’ll get to you soon…you too, my favorite father-in-law!)

My father is one of the most calm, level-headed, constant people in my life. In fact, I could probably count the number of times he ever raised his voice to me. He just knows the appropriate reaction to almost every life circumstance. I’m sure some of that is clouded by adoration, but truly, he seems to come pretty close to the mark every single time. As I trudge through motherhood, I constantly try to recall the value of a calm voice, of thinking through an issue before reacting, but also how to recognize a moment that needs swift, immediate action. In that case, I’ve learned to trust my instincts, follow through, and not apologize. Again, learned from Dad.

My Dad with a much younger Emma.

There have been several truly trying moments in my adult life and I found myself turning to my father. He always listens, reserving judgement until the end. His most famous, insightful advice often comes in the form of a wise owl: “I think you know the answer kid…” He will listen and listen and make sense of the pile of nonsense I dumped at his doorstep. And he’s right. I do know the answer (and I love being called kid, especially now, makes me feel young).

On a more personal level (yes, there is something more personal than motherhood), as a writer I’ve always valued my father’s ability to share his life. He is one of those amazing storytellers who weaves just the right amount of detail into a story without being overbearing. I love hearing about his many adventures (and trust me, he’s had some amazing ones: arresting one of the FBI’s 10 most wanted single-handed, a military tour in West Africa, tales of Tucson in it’s earlier years, owning businesses, creating a town, serving as mayor…the list goes on). Another useful tool as a writer is observing how he can get just about anybody to warm-up to him. A little smile, a joke, and a sympathetic comment and BAM!, he’s in the door.

And with a much younger Regan and his sweet dog, Taco. Yes, I must get new pictures next month!

Who isn’t in the market for a strong, brave, loyal, loving father who looks like John Wayne? Luckily my father fits the bill. (As an aside, I was once on a weekend trip with a childhood friend and her family. We stopped for lunch at a restaurant with walls dedicated to John Wayne. I asked my friend’s mother why there were so many pictures of my Dad on the wall…) I am continuously amazed by the strength of his love and I am eternally grateful to count such an amazing man as my father.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.

I love you.

Fix It Friday

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There is a great blog for all aspiring photographers, i heart faces. Created by some incredibly talented photographers and featuring professional photographers as guest contributors, it has been a treasure trove of information for me. As the title suggests, it is mostly about portraits, though many assignments include faces in unexpected ways.

One of their more helpful training segments is Fix It Friday and today, since it is Friday and Tom is home and Regan is taking a very, very rare nap, I decided to participate.

Here is the original photo, contributed by Susan Keller.

Here is my color fix:

While I was tempted to do a bit of a color washout, I was taken by the pops of color that came through with some basic fixes and decided to embrace the greens and yellows.

Here is my black and white fix:

I chose not to go with a complete black and white, but allowed some of the green tones to bleed through.

If you’re interested on how Susan edited her photo (and all of the steps she used), check out the Fix It Friday post here.

Moving, Phase 3

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I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve been blogging quite a bit less lately. So much has gone on the past several weeks: soccer, school, sick kids, sleep issues (still), even dealing with bullies (yes, I’m diverse…and tough)!

But the biggest time suck by far has been the craziness of an overseas move. The good news? I have successfully completed phase 1, Get Moving and phase 2, Schedule Everything. We’ve cleaned and scrubbed and sorted everything and everyone in the house. We scheduled every appointment we could possibly need, crossed major chunks of necessities off our list, and even sorted what we’re going to do with our animals.

We’re now in the roughest phase, phase 3:

Begin to say good-bye.

This isn’t a simple wave and exchange of email addresses. This involves slowly separating ourselves from our home, spending time with people we care about, visiting favorite places and scarfing down all our favorite, regional foods. How to do this?

1. Plan all out-of-state travel.

Book tickets, coordinate dates, make sure you’ll see those important people who you might not see for several months (or years, for that matter). For my family, that means planning time in Pittsburgh with my in-laws and a trip to Arizona to visit my family. Since my family, our stuff, and our car is leaving from the east coast, my Pittsburgh relatives will see a bit more of us. (We have a car to deliver to New Jersey, recovery from packers and interstate travel, etc. I promise if we were going to Hawaii, Alaska, or Asia, we would definitely hang out in Arizona much longer!)

Nomadic Tip: Book all air travel well in advance, researching multiple sites. If you wait too long and prices are looking scary, hold off until right before your trip and snag a last-minute trip. Always try to fly on Tuesday or Wednesday, the least busy (and cheapest) days of the week. The most expensive time to purchase tickets is 30-10 days out from a trip.

2. Pick a date to leave town.

Once you plan your out-of-state visits, you have to choose a date to leave your community. It’s rough. Every time someone asks you “So, when are you leaving? Are you getting close?” you’ll cringe a bit when you answer (especially if the person asking is someone you’ll really miss). This is essential though. We have many friends here and this good-bye will be rough. We need to pace ourselves!

Nomadic Tip: Remember to leave a day or two after the movers are all done packing to recover before leaving town. You’ll need it before setting out on the next leg of your journey.

3. Plan your goodbyes.

It can be especially hard for children to say goodbye to their friends. Some special time, even if it’s a few hours at a playground, can make that easier. Gifts are certainly not necessary, but a picture of those you care about can make a difference. When a good friend left this past winter, she planned an early birthday party for her daughter. Our children were able to make t-shirts with everyone’s handprints on them (dipped in fast-drying fabric paint and labeled with a fabric marker) and had plenty of playtime. Cake, memorable craft, and play…perfect.

For adults, a lunch with a good friend, a small get together at your house, or even the time for a real phone call (yes, actually speaking instead of sending 76 text messages or an ongoing Facebook message) is all you need. It really is just enough to say good-bye without drawing out the memories and tears. Make sure you have phone, mail, and email addresses!

Nomadic Tip: Search for “free printable business cards” like these at How About Orange. Include your email address and any other information you have available. Have them ready to hand out to friends.

4. Take time off.

You and everyone in your family needs time off from goodbyes, cleaning, sorting, and running errands. Take a weekend off, I promise you will miraculously crunch everything into your remaining time. If taking a break before you’re all ready to go stresses you out, get things done and relax until the movers come. I promise this second option only works for a small portion of the population. If you aren’t naturally organized, don’t shoot for it. Plan that relaxation time in the middle of your preparation.

Nomadic Tip: Use this time off to relax in your home and visit some local, nearby favorite sites and restaurants. Stay close to home so you have plenty of downtime, don’t do too much!

I’m ready for number 4, taking some time off. I can’t wait to get there…I’m really wishing I had Samantha’s wiggly nose.