19
Dec
2010
Getting even more traditional – could yum cha be the key?
possibly my favourite tradition. I know, I'm shallow like that.
I saw this great post the other day on a website. It was all about the traditions this mother is starting with her family. Some of them were a bit ummm full on (compulsory family hikes are not really going to cut it in our family) but some of them got me thinking about what we’re doing in our house. I’ve covered some of these in earlier posts but for those of you who don’t immediately memorise and take notes (what is WRONG with you people? Don’t you know this stuff is gold?), here are some ideas we are planning on taking up in our little family. (OK, not so little our family as we currently stand at four and are soon to be five but DON’T REMIND ME, I HAVE THE FEAR.)
- Sunday family roasts – as per last week’s post, I am loving this new tradition. Granted, following the first week’s massive success, we can only go backwards from there (witness tonight’s event where daughter refused to eat anything but individual peas. One at a time. Very slowly. Until you wanted to throw each and every pea at the wall), but I am still loving it. Perhaps in warmer times it will become Sunday barbeque night. I love any excuse to break out the tomato sauce.
5
Dec
2010
Saying goodbye – and trying not to get caught looking shifty
There are a lot of goodbyes when you’re an expat. When you’re a young thing backpacking and travelling, it seems there is always
someone new arriving in town – ready to replace the last ones out. But as I drift towards my mid-30s (until I reach 38 I am in my MID THIRTIES so bugger off the lot of you), circles seem to shrink and getting replacements becomes trickier.
We said goodbye last week to two of the core members of our gang. I’m feeling very melancholy about it. I know their time was up. They arrived in this wonderful city single (ish) and fancy free 12 years ago and left married, with two children, home owners and undoubtedly with a dog in their future. (I predict a golden retriever and another child, but no-one has ever accused me of being Nostradamus so don’t hold me to it.) The leaving was painful – selfishly, I think those of left behind in the minus three degree slush are feeling it more than those of us headed to a couple of months off to play beach cricket. Slackers.
29
Oct
2010
The perfect little Spanish city
Oviedo is a stunning small city in the North of Spain. It’s the capital of the province of Asturias, a beautiful area of green pastures and rocky mountains. The city is also not far from a patch of coast that boasts some of the most beautiful beaches in Europe and perhaps the world, allowing some residents to claim they have had days of surfing in the morning and skiing in the afternoon. Which would obviously require surfing in the kind of temperatures that make you wonder if you these people are dedicated or just mad.
If you’ve never looked at travelling to the North of Spain but Oviedo is ringing some bells – it may be that you heard of it watching Woody Allen’s film, ‘Vicky, Cristina, Barcelona’ in which it features fairly heavily. Allen’s a passionate fan and the town has returned the love by placing a bronze statue of him in one of the city’s many pedestrian streets around the centre. He joins an impressive and varied selection of statues that dot the city’s centre and includes the gorgeous “La Maternidad” by Botero. As well as an excellent example of loved and appreciated public art, La Maternidad’s substantial, exposed derrier gives children plenty of entertainment. At any given moment there is a small child giggling and pointing. Ah, bottoms. They’re pure comedy.
6
Sep
2010
Feel the fear (of rain) and do it anyway.
Children. Rain. Holidays. Could three words inspire more fear?
my alternative rain lifestyle
I love my children. Most of the time. Well, except when they are being really really really annoying. Or when it is raining and they are inside with me. ALL DAY. Despite the fact that it is September and supposedly not yet winter, we need to remember that this is England and there is a lot of rain. And cold. Even in summer. So they are inside with me. And when I say with me – I mean crawling over me, tugging my legs, putting their sticky little fingers all over my cream couches (I know, but it was before kids ok) and kicking their grubby little feet into my computer screen. I may well be going mental. Just mildly and quite quietly (depending on who you ask) but mental all the same.
30
Jul
2010
Beach Babe
Like the rest of Spain, we’re on holiday at the beach. It’s our first beach holiday with a child. He’s 13 months, still can’t walk, weighs about 11kg and still likes to crawl all over his parents at every opportunity. The beach does not enhance this experience.
Here’s some stuff you might not know if you haven’t tried to go with a baby or small toddler yet.
- Your days of lying back on a sand controlled towel are over (an arsenal of toys will not make any difference). Babies and toddlers will not sit quietly in the shade, on a towel, playing with toys. What they will in fact do is crawl directly off designated sand free zone and bring back a substantial amount of the stuff with them.
- You’re not cool anymore. Face it, there is NO WAY on this earth to go to the beach packed like a camel – carrying change bag, toys, bucket and spade, water, baby food, umbrella, towels, and more (am sure Kate has the definitive spreadsheet somewhere of all the things one should take to the beach) AND carry an 11kg baby all the while walking on hot sand AND look cool. You are the stereotypical parent of every hip single’s nightmare. Don’t attempt to fool anyone. If you’re not loaded up like a cartless gypsy, every other parent will be smugly aware that you are either at the beach for five minutes or about to face down a disaster.
27
Jul
2010
Travelling with kids – part two, into the inferno.
So I think it would be fair to say that we have covered airplane travel relatively comprehensively (if by comprehensive you mean in a kind of crappy yet witty and insightful way here , here and here) but there is always the other bit – when you actually get there. Oh yes, the holiday itself. I’ve just been on one and although I know most things in the world, as I’ve mentioned before, a far cleverer friend than me says that every time you travel you learn a new thing about travelling with your children. I think she might be right. Plus, she’s a lot taller than me, and currently about 11 months pregnant, so I usually agree with most things she says, lest she clout me over the ear. Anyway – some tips….
- Most importantly – do it. Travel. Get out there. Most places can be done with kids. Unless it’s a twenty two star adults only resort. Don’t take kids there – unless you plan to hide them in your room the whole time. But that might be a bit boring. Even if they do like DVDs.
9
May
2010
The Land of Limbo – expats and why I am not a spoilt brat. Most of the time.
This is one from the wedding snaps. Not really.
There is a feeling familiar to many expats – well, at least those who have not committed to being an ex-expat, i.e., committing to living in the one country forever, they are usually happy with their choice (and keen to tell you about it, may I mention in a totally non-snipey way). For the rest of us? It’s often the land of limbo baby.
The most common discussion amongst expats, almost from the moment you get off the plane in your adopted country is – ‘How long are you here for?’ ‘How long do you think you’ll stay?’ ‘When do you think you’ll head home?’ ‘Do you think you’ll be here for good?’ And many other equally same-same-but-different-questions.
These questions come from many places – from other expats eager to know if you are staying to keep them company (hello London friends); other locals keen to see you leave (hello everyone who wants a place in my nursery); family who would like their grandchildren to stay put forever (hello mother-in-law); family who would like their grandchildren returned to them (hello mother); friends who want you to come to their weddings (hello increasingly impatient friends on all sides of the world); and people who may or may not want to employ you based on your answer (umm, hello all future employers. This whole post is actually made up.)
6
May
2010
An (almost) local’s guide to Madrid
One of our readers contacted us last week to ask about my take on the ‘must sees’ in Madrid. I wait around most of my days waiting for someone to ask me to tell them what I think, so, naturally, I’m delighted. It’s with no small amount of chest puffing and grinning then, that I bring you my personal guide to Madrid.
Madrid is a wonderful city to be a tourist. Everything you would want to see is in a fairly compact area. The central area of Madrid is full of truly stunning buildings, plazas and fountains that you must see. The underground and bus systems are a dream, even for non-Spanish speakers. Walking the streets is an absolute pleasure on almost every day of the year. Even in the cold of winter Madrid is characterised by impossibly blue, sunny skies.
I started writing this post with a great deal of detail only to find I was not even one fifth of the way through my recommendations and already at a 1000 words. So I give you bullet points, for both our benefits. Certainly there’s room for greater brevity, but it was never my strong point, as you may have noticed from previous posts.
24
Apr
2010
Moving on Up. Or down. Or sideways or something. With a handy moving house list.
I have just moved house for about the ninth time. No wait, I just counted. 14 moves in nine years. Including several changes of country and state. This one was only ten minutes drive away – walk in the park really. No wait, I forgot, it wasn’t, it was a PHENOMENAL PAIN IN THE AR*E.
I mean, putting on the rose tinteds, there are definitely things I actually enjoy about moving. For example:
The house search. At least for the first few weeks when you are full of hope and anticipation. The list of possibilities seems endless, your budget really quite big. The real estate agents are desperate to show you places and badger you with houses.
The packing. I enjoy the process of streamlining every time I pack. The massive charity piles, the rubbish piles, the ‘I haven’t worn it in two years so I will just think about it’ piles.
Removalists. 14 moves, and generally a wonderful luxury having someone moving your stuff for you (as you recall endless dropping of sofas on your own in younger poorer days). Good ones including the slight surprise of the one-armed removalist man. No, I am not joking – he was a genius.
1
Apr
2010
Visiting home; the art of juggling baby, family, friends and downtime
I’m back in the land of Aus this month visiting family and friends. It’s wonderful. I’ve had beach time, great laughs with some (sadly not all) of the people I feel so utterly fortunate to call friends and moments with these friends that make my homesick heart soar. Really, I’m not just attempting to be poetic. When I am having a laugh with old friends, I really do feel like the proverbial pig in mud. This time, I think I’ve struck the balance between catching up with as many people as possible while still enjoying myself and not winding myself up into a tightly stretched rubber band. This, many of you will know, is no easy feat. Particularly for me. I am one of those people that is incapable of enjoying their own party. So enjoying an entire visit home, which is a little bit like a series of back-to-back parties, can be quite a stressful experience.
