Here's what's been going on...

Lots has been happening over the past few months since my last regular posts.*  


But before I get started again, I want to keep things a bit in order, here's the catch-up on the past few months----you can either read the bits or scroll through like a sort of flip book.  Some of the topics I've been thinking on and will revisit in the future, others are just bits....


-----------------------------------------------


I've been culling.**


One of the items in the photo below went to Goodwill, the other stayed, just in case of emergencies.  Can you guess which one?  It all depends on whether or not you think it is more likely that my future self may one day:

a) work in a suited up corporate environment 

b) stay out all night dancing

I also went through boxes and boxes of papers, letters and one menu from a restaurant I frequented in college. I even found a handful of notes from my sixth grade bully.***

Elliot learned lots of things, like drinking from a cup,****  

Escape...

And all about fish...

We took family photos.

Elliot turned one. 

Husband and I went on our first trip away. He can drive with his eyes closed.  Yes, he is that good.

We flew to Key West where I was appalled by some of the sights, but enjoyed the chocolate covered Key Lime Pie anyway.

Husband stuck mainly to the more conventional seafood. 

Elliot and I went to the beach with the Jackalope and his mom.

We went to the Easter Beer Hunt.  

Elliot scored three pieces of chocolate and three beers. 

We went to a birthday luau pig roast.   It was awesome.  Seriously awesome. 

I got to try a bit from each section of the pig.  Even the brain.***** I have a new appreciation for pork. 

And somewhere along the way, I got pregnant.****** Two will arrive in late October.

See you next week...

_________________________________________

*And I want to get back to it.  It's good for me---it gives me a few minutes of amusement and creativity for myself, much like I imagine it is for a non-professional ballerina.  They may still work out just to keep their muscles in shape and to revisit their skills, but it's not what they do anymore.  That's probably the most concrete way I can explain it.  I like to write.  I used to be a journalist and probably one day I will be again, but in the meantime, I like to try to keep it all a little bit in shape...

**Everything happened so quickly when Husband and I got married and moved that I didn't go through anything.  It either went with us or went into storage here. So I've had LOTS to cull through, including giving more than half my clothes to the Goodwill. 

***I don't know why I kept them, but I'm glad I did.  Twenty-five years past, I have a much better perspective on the whole experience.

****This is a big deal.

*****It tastes a bit like savory marshmallow.

****** This is a big part of the reason for my absence.  We're really, really excited. (Well Husband and I are.  I'm not sure Elliot gets it yet.) But overall, we've been busy and I've been TIRED.  I feel better now.  And by Two, I mean that's its name in the meantime, not the actual number of babies.

We're here...

We've had a big few weeks.

We've changed continents; negotiated baby* jet lag; knocked out an entire list of Christmas presents armed with 90 minutes, the magic of the internets and a highly abused credit card; and sampled the fine cuisines of more than eleven different countries, all of which can be found within three miles of our swanky** Atlanta digs.

And the overall change has been extreme in the weirdest ways.  Once the jet-lag shook out, settling back into the US has been easier than expected.  Really, it's just like we're back from a two year vacation.  It was great in so many different ways, but we're back home now.  There are lots of transitions to come, but right now, it's all good.

The biggest culture shock thus far has been in driving.***  For instance, in Norway, the speed limits are much much lower--90kph (55mph) on the highway--and they are firm, with giant fines, almost impossible to contest.  Here, I had forgotten that the speed limits are much more "suggestions" rather than actual laws.****

And in the city, it's worse.

I follow the speed limit laws there, too.

And there's more to come, but we've been overwhelmed with it all, but slowly but surely, we're getting settled in...


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


*As in "experienced by an actual baby," not as in "a small amount of."  There is a big difference between the two.  Trust. 


**And I use the word "swanky" in the most ironic way possible, which really is pretty close to the  opposite of swanky.  To be accurate, I mean the two bedroom suite at the resident inn where the three of us are headquartered.  


***Other than the smiley people. 


****They are laws, but no one follows them.

Spanish Holiday

Last Saturday morning as we drove the 82 kilometers between the villa we rented and the Alicante airport, I counted 14 double decker buses roaring down the roads heading to the area we just left.

The windows on the fronts and the sides were almost full glass.*And every seat was filled with enthusiastic visitors of the geriatric sort.

Apparently, in the non-summer months**, the Costa Blanca region of Spain, where we took a little holiday last week is the European version of Palm Springs and most of Florida all wrapped into one.

And, in this area, if you weren't a local or an imported retiree snowbirding, you were a family with small, younger than school-age children who were doing the exact same thing we were.

This is not a bad thing, if you are us. We wanted a bit of a break, in the sunshine and because we travel in a pack of three, it was important that Elliot was welcomed in places that Husband and I wanted to be, like restaurants that served tasty local food and once a pub.

And without a doubt, he was. We couldn't walk down the street without being stopped with a "Guapo bebé."*** And when he occasionally made a little noise when we were out eating, that was completely fine.***** Someone would say, "Oh oh that is what babies do. Guapo, guapo."

And it was a great week, full of good things like fish:

Two headed fish

Two fish that turned into

This:

(I promise you, one day, you should come over and eat what Husband cooks. When he has the time, he's good. And when I say time, I mean time. He is also slow. But that's okay. We like to visit.)

We had lots of good food out as well...here we will soon have paella***** on our plate for lunch. Elliot started out asleep, but when he heard the main course arrive...

He woke up.

Who could blame him really? So eventually, everyone ate.

We spent a happy afternoon at a place called Munda Mar, which is no kidding, awesome. It's a small-ish zoo with great exhibits and hilarious access to the animals. Elliot loved the fish, especially. When we go back to the US, whether it's for good or for a visit, we're going to hang out at The Georgia Aquarium.

And it was just right. There was just enough sunshine. So we'd sit out every single day.

And eat out in the sunshine.

And then visit all day.

And visit all evening.

And that was our holiday. It was just exactly right.

_____________________________________

*Once, when my brother and I were little (in the pre-dear sister days), the BigD and our dad took us to Florida to ride the glass bottomed boats. These buses were like that, but different. Not boats, not bottoms, but still noses pressed against glass, totally excited about the view.

**In the summer months, it is more akin to Panama City and Myrtle Beach, all wrapped into one.

***Also, in a pottery shop, when the owner admired Elliot, she also told me in great detail that he needed to have some time on the beach because he was too white. That it was okay to be worried about the sun in July, but not in September, that we should leave immediately and go to the water. He would be fine. I'm pretty sure that's what it all meant because I know blanco, bebe, la playa, julio, septiembre, various verbage of tengo, tiene, guapo, etc... This went on a long time, then she shooed up out, all the way to the door and pointed up to the sun. But never once stopped clucking and smiling at Elliot. The Spanish are multi-taskers.

****Not grumpy noise, he rarely makes those. The noises are squeals or laughing or just general babbling. He likes to visit. Shockingly enough, my son is social.

*****For which we were mocked when Husband pronounced it (paella) on an installment of HKS a few days ago...I cleared it up with a Spanish friend of mine who is from the Basque region and apparently there are five (maybe more??) regions of Spain, each with a slightly different accent, which in over-simplified terms translates into different stresses and uses of the "ll" and "c." Trust.

In the Meantime

HKS: Why You Should Go to Spain*

We got back late Saturday afternoon...and while we sort through photos and swim through the mounds of laundry, please enjoy the latest installment of "Husband Knows Stuff..."

More to come...

*You're welcome, Spain Tourism Board (or Turismo de España, if you are so inclined...)

Buckshot Traveling

Tomorrow we're leaving for the Spanish sunshine and what could possibly be our last European vacation.

While our trip this summer was great fun and so good to see so many of our friends and family, it wasn't calm and it wasn't so relaxing. We criss-crossed the country thinking about maybe coming home and what and where that even means. And between luggage, time zones and sweet baby Elliot, it was a journey. A great journey, but a journey nonetheless.

So when we got back, as we all got sick, we decided that some quiet time in the sunshine would cure it all. And for the first time we're going to leave laptops at home to completely tune out.

The coming months are going to be big ones full of major decisions and this could be the last family vacation for a while.*

So, as we do, on any vacation that requires calm and not much at all**, we employ The Buckshot*** Method of Travel.

First we set out the constants, the factors that will not change. And for this trip they were:

1) A certain budget

2) Sunshine and warmth

3) Within a six-hour window of travel, which is about as long as we want to travel with a six-month old.

4) A direct flight

5) The one-week window Husband has between projects

6) Nothing nearby that we would feel guilty for not going to see.

7) Good food.

So with a few internet searches and a map of Europe, we came up with a flight to the Alicante airport in Spain, which is on the southeastern coast of the country.

Then we did another few searches and came up with a villa in Moraira, Spain, which is a little town about 82km up the highway. Apparently, it is a small fishing village that is not even listed in the Fodor's Spain guide.

We looked at the photographs of the villa and sent an email. We settled on a price with the owner and wired the money to an account in England. And just yesterday the keys came in the mail.****

It's near the beach, a tapas bar and has its own pool.

Best of all, September is the off-season so it's cheap cheap cheap.

We're going to go to the grocery store and sleep late and take Elliot to the beach.

And when he's had enough, we're going to go home and sit by the pool while he naps inside. In the evenings we may go to dinner a few times, but that's pretty much it.*****

Until the past few days, I hadn't done much research on it at all, because really, who cares?

I'll be hanging with my two best people close to good Spanish food and the ocean.

But, while the little man was napping this morning, I started looking at some traveler's notes online...apparently the Costa Blanca (the area of Spain where we are headed) is about a 50/50 split of Spanish and British expats.

And most of the beaches are topless, often populated by portly British grandmother types.

I love it.

Seriously, if this is true, I think it sounds even more awesome. I love grandmothers.****** Grandmotherly types love babies, so they will be friendly Elliot. And the more portly they are, the less portly I will seem.

Perfect.

_____________________________

*And really, this is our first family vacation of just the three of us--Unless of course you count the places we went before he was an actual person...

**The Buckshot Method got us to Jade Mountain for our honeymoon, Nice for Christmas and Portugal for last summer's holiday. It works. Trust.

***For those not familiar with Southern Culture, meaning the Southern Culture of the United States, hunting is big. And, buckshot is a type of ammunition. When you shoot buckshot, it sprays out and unless you're very unlucky, you'll probably hit something. The Buckshot Method, as I call it, works for lots of things, but you have to be enthusiastic. That helps.

****Yeah, I thought it was a little risky, too, but I did an internet search on the owner and he seemed normal. Plus, he apparently lodged a complaint with his township in England about unpicked-up dog poo on his street. So by logic, if he's particular about his street, he's probably particular about the house. I'm sure it will be fine.

*****We may also play lots of Scrabble. I am also hoping to read a book.

******Well, most of them.

Traveling and Coming Home

Before I begin, let's be clear on a few things.

Overall, Elliot was a great traveler on the big trip.

He chilled in airports from Stavanger...

to Copenhagen...
to Sacramento...

(And all parts in between...)

And while, occasionally he'd rather play underneath the plane's bassinet than sleep in it, other than one minor incident*, he was calm and sweet during every single one of the nine plane trips.

And for the most part he played or slept in his car seat.**

(Though often it was because he had good company on the way.)

(Big D/Nee Nee may not have the chops or a full command of the lyrics, but she has the enthusiasm. You've gotta love it. We all did, especially Elliot.)

And, when necessary he chilled so we could have dinners.

As long as we made sure he had lots of wiggle time, he slept pretty much anywhere...

If there were no cribs, we made him soft beds on the floor beside us...

Or underneath tables out of the way...***
He chilled in various strollers...Awake...
And asleep.

He spent hours strapped to my chest.

And helped with the luggage...
And he loved it.****

Husband and I planned for weeks how we could make the travel easy on Elliot and manageable for us. We (probably over)packed toys and clothes for every climate. We brought his familiar blankets and did the math of the time zones. We thought of almost every single thing, except one...

Jet lag.

For Husband and me, jet lag is merely an inconvenience. We just add in a day or two for readjusting sleep when we get home, but the trip to/from California***** is particularly difficult due to the nine-hour time difference.

But for Elliot, it's been brutal. He's pretty confused about whether it's day or night. We can't keep him up for very long because if he wants to sleep, he'll just slump over and at a certain point, it just gets to feel like we are being mean.******

So during the night, he thinks it's time to hang out. We do not. This difference in opinion has made for some challenging overnights thus far.

Also, he has a cold. Not a big cold. And not the swine flu. Just a bit of traveling funk that has settled in his little nose. This does not help.

So to answer the question: Yep, Elliot is an awesome traveler.

Coming home'r?

Not so much.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*In retrospect, the incident was much more minor than it felt at the time.

On the last long haul flight, going from Chicago to Copenhagen, Elliot was cooked. It was 10pm--in that time zone--he had been dozing, the plane was hot and as we were loading up, he decided he had HAD it.

For about ten minutes (Husband says seven) he screamed. And when I say screamed, I mean a world class Elliot scream, with just enough breaks inbetween to catch his breath. Within close enough range, eardrum can bleed, dogs howl and small children cower. And if you didn't know him, you may think a life threatening aneurysm is imminent.

Also, we were sitting in Economy Extra, which for those unfamiliar with SAS, are the sweet seats, just a wee bit smaller than in Business (which is really First Class). So everyone around us, including us of course had shelled out extra dough (or kroner) for a nice comfy ride.

And let me tell you, a few of them were not so kind, which I can sort of understand.

But we (Husband and I) were apologetic and doing everything we could to calm him.

(Elliot could not have cared less. Rude baby.)

But then he calmed. The moment passed and he slept for most of rest of the nine hours.

And the one especially assy couple who glared at me for the entire ten/seven minutes spent the rest of the nine hours talking loudly, flipping their lights on and off and making snarky comments. Nine hours. Seriously.

I hate them.

________

**Once he cried for about two hours on a drive in Sonoma, but it was windy and cold when he got out of the car, he'd been in the car a LONG time and the view was not great from where he was sitting. Really, I felt almost the same way.

The second time he cried in the car seat was on a lightless stretch of road called 985 which is the highway leading from the north side of Atlanta on the way to Big D's house. He had been asleep and woke up in pitch black dark and he screamed.

Husband thinks it was because he was cooked from a day of traveling (Sacramento to Atlanta, then a drive to BigD's),

I think it was because he'd never been in the full darkness. His entire life, up until that point, had been in spring/summer Scandinavia, during the time of 23 hour sunlight. And even in California where we'd been for the first ten days of his American tour were much like home...he'd been sleeping in rooms with either a nightlight or sunshine creeping underneath the shades. Then one day he wakes up in pitch black full darkness.

Scary.

________

***This photo was taken from Andrea and Deena's apartment in San Francisco. There are earthquakes there. So sleeping under a table=comfort and safety.

________

****More strangers than I can count, commented, "Ohhhhhhh That's a happy baby." And he is.

________

*****To/from Georgia is not nearly as bad because it's only six time zones, which makes more difference than you would think.

________

******This is Stavanger, not Guantanamo Bay.

We're Back

As a friend of mine said "One of these people is very tired. And one of these people has no plans to let her sleep."

I'll be posting about Elliot's Debut World Tour in a day or so. Suffice to say, it was full of good visits, fried foods and not one bit of rain.

And now that we're back, I realize that I planned for everything except how to deal with a jet-lagged baby.

More to come...

Packing

On the way home...

How We Travel AND Husband Knows Stuff #5: Roadtrip

This is what Husband handles.*

This is what I handle.**

Also, it's been a while since an installment of Husband Knows Stuff...***

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*If the whole "job in an office" thing doesn't work out, sweet Husband may have a future as a sherpa.

**To be fair, I have the baby.

***There hasn't been a lot of computer time lately, but rest assured, I am taking photos and notes...

Dear 21B (Or an argument for a no-child-allowed flight)

(This is from our long haul flight from Copenhagen to Seattle. Elliot preferred to play underneath the bassinet instead of sleeping in the bassinet. Oh well, at least he was quiet.)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dear 21B,

You may not remember me, but you have been stuck in my mind all week, or at least since Monday night.

Just to refresh your memory, you and your son, Sean Michael sat directly behind Husband, Elliot and me. It was the 8pm flight from Seattle to Sacramento. We were the family with the four month old. You were the middle aged man with the four year old.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you then what I'd like to tell you now.

You are that apple. And by "apple," I mean the bad kind, the kind that ruins it for all of the rest of us.

It was a packed flight, including about 25 children ranging from Elliot's age to about twelve or so. And other than a few moments of crying from Elliot, the only children anyone heard from the entire time was Sean Michael and your twins across the aisle.

Normally, I wouldn't care so much or even expect you to remember us, except part of Sean Michael's antics involved him slamming his feet into the back of my seat on irregular*, yet frequent intervals.

And with every single slam, Elliot would wake up long enough to whimper and shift and occasionally bump his head just a bit. And every single time, I shifted, turned as much as I could and said, "Please!"

It was not that you were oblivious to this. You gently chided him and bargained with him and threatened him with "If you don't stop, that lady with the baby is going to stand up and ask you herself to stop."

And you were just as loud and twice as cloying as your son. I am not a violent person but I was having an overwhelming desire to punch you in the nose.

And I would have** except I was too crunched in and didn't want to move and disturb Elliot any more than I had to. By this point we had been traveling for more than 20 hours and we were all fried. Husband's glares were no good. And so this went on for more than two hours.

Your son is clearly intelligent. He spotted planes and asked questions.*** If either of you sounded like a dope, it was not him.****

You were loud and whiny and ineffective.

And you, not your son, made both Elliot and me cry a bit.

But the worst part of all is that you and Sean Michael are going to be what everyone remembers.***** And you will be the case in point for all the misanthropes who occasionally like to declare that children should not be allowed to travel.

I hate this because while I am only four months into the whole parenting thing and realize that while I cannot control every bit of his behavior and mood---I am going to do my best to try to help him manage his actions especially in public.

While we hope to go on some vacations alone, Husband and I intend to take Elliot with us when we travel. We want him to gather experiences, navigate situations and learn to behave in public without infringing on his fellow travelers. Plus he's our family and in lots of cases, where we go, he goes.

So thanks for giving the anti-child travelers a wealth of munition.

And when I say wealth, I mean it because, as I cradled Elliot in my arms, I was calculating just how much extra I would pay for a no-child-allowed flight.

And at that moment, the number was crawling up.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*It felt much like one of those experiments with the rats. The experiment where the rats are slowly driven mad because they know the pellet of food is coming, they just don't know when and in what quantity.

**Maybe not really, but I was thinking mean thoughts and lots of them.

***The questions ranged from "How do planes fly?" to "What would happen if two planes rammed into each other in the air?"

****That said, no one thinks your child is charmingly precocious other than you. His obnoxious behavior coupled with your impotence in controlling him canceled out every single bit of good will.

*****The reason I know this is because several people stopped me at the baggage claim and as we were waiting on Husband to pull around. They complimented me on calming Elliot quickly and derided you. And when I mentioned that we were the people right in front of you, they offered their sympathy. It was so nice, I got teary more than once.