Finding Treasure

School starts Wednesday so we decided to get out and do one last family activity.

It ended up being an adventure that involved lots of dark clouds, rocky terrain, , pitch black, cramped spaces, age-old fresh springs in hard-to-get-to basements, thunder, huge, open corridors with dusty red floors, sudden, cold drafts through enormous window openings, and a green, grassy courtyard.

We visited Krzyżtopór castle (an hour away!)and found treasure. There is a legend that treasure is buried somewhere beneath the castle, but we found it everywhere we looked. It was a family adventure that I really will treasure forever. (I reserve the right to be as cheesy as I choose on my personal blog, thankyouverykindly.)

Funny, too, because I'm usually the one who wants to head home as soon as it gets cold or wet, but I could not get enough of the weather. It created the greatest ambiance for castle ruin exploration.


The ruins date from the first half of the 17th century. I was super excited to visit it because this castle features prominently in James Michener's Poland. It has (had) 365 windows, 52 rooms, 12 ballrooms and four towers.

We didn't have flashlights, but next time we go we'll be sure each of the kids has their own. You need them to get through the dark cavernous passageways on the ground floor and below.
Plus, it's easier to see all the ghosts with a flashlight. Or without one. Hmmm.
My favorite spot was in the place shown below. There once hung huge portraits of family members in the openings. Not sure why I loved it so much but I could spend all day there. I just felt so small and it was beautiful.

Everywhere we went we could tell if other explorers (call them tourists if you're boring) spoke English by whether or not they chuckled or stifled a laugh. This was because everywhere we went Aaron repeated phrases such as:

"Mom, we kinda hafta go because daddy's walking now."
"Okay. We have to be really careful in here."
"Be careful. You can't run because you might go. . . and bump your head on a rock."
"It's kinda freaky!"
"Oh my gosh! I LOVE it in here!"
"It's like a ghost in there."

In the car on the way home he said, "You don't what, mom? I love you, but I want some toast." No, that has nothing to do with this post, but I thought it was funny. (He always says, "You don't what?" instead of "you know what?")

He also got tired of us pointing out all the cows, goats, tractors, storks, ponds etc. on the drive and eventually said, "I know mom! I can see EVERYTHING!" Well pardon me, Aaron!

I'm so glad we finally discovered this castle and that it is so close by! Now we can go there every other day.

False Advertising

So people keep stopping by my blog from the Mormon Mommy Blogs website. Well, I'll tell you a story.

A long, long time ago I used to be one of the first to read TheOneTrueSue's blog posts, as she posted at unearthly hours which were only unearthly if you were on a certain side of the earth, which I wasn't.

One day she posted about a new thing she was trying. I clicked over and suddenly found myself the first to comment and request to be added to the - then very short - list of Mormon Mommy Bloggers. I was added in the humor category.

I had no idea what exactly this site was or what it would become. I was shocked the first time a perfect stranger, who had found me on MMB, commented on my blog.

Since that time I have met a lot of great people that way. Still, I have had repeated pangs of guilt about the category I'm placed under. I figured that, yeah, sometimes I write about something funny or what I write ends up coming out kinda funny. But I continue to feel a little bad.

I feel bad because, let's face it, everything I write isn't funny. Let's also face it, most of what I write isn't funny. This isn't exactly a "humor blog". It's just my blog, you know?

So anyway, I'm gonna move over to the International blogs because if there is one thing that can be said about my blog it's that it is international. And don't try to tell me it's not!
(just got my first two comments and forgot that of course you nice people will tell me I'm funny after this post! I really did not mean to ask for that.)

Greg's Dieting Willpower is Strong Enough for Both of Us

I can't imagine going weeks upon weeks without bread of any sort, with no potatoes, no rice no PASTA!!! I should be able to though, since I've watched Greg do it for the past few weeks.

He's weird, is Greg. He's wanted to lose weight for awhile now and when we went to drop the kids off at his parents' house a few weeks ago he saw that his sister had lost weight. She told him about the Dukan diet and two days later he had bought the book. Another two days after that and he had turned his back on carbs in favor of protein, protein and more protein (alternating with days he could also eat vegetables).

So he's awesome, he's losing weight and I can't really believe he's doing so well. His also-dieting sister came to visit and when I made cranberry white chocolate scones (thanks, Kim!) she took a bite of one. Just a bite. And Greg didn't. He hasn't sampled any of the brownies, chocolate chip cookies, Boston Cream Pie, peanut butter brownies, blueberry muffins etc. I've made while he's been on this diet (I know I'm cruel, but I am not on a diet yet and I can't yet live without these things. Plus the kids and I eat them in the kitchen when Greg's not around and I bake everything in the downstairs kitchen so he doesn't smell it too much, either.).

That's another weird thing about him. He "doesn't get" why people go on a diet and then cheat. If you're going to diet, DIET, he says. If decide to do something, just do it. It's that all or nothing perspective that I respect so much about him. It is his major strength or a great contributor to many of his strengths, I think. (It's also the hardest thing to deal with in other ways, but that is another post for a never day.)

Making dinner is proving to be very time consuming these days. I'm not really the type to just switch right over to feeding the family on Greg's diet. It's heavy on dairy and fish and I'm doing low-dairy-nursing and I don't like fish. Still, I try to adapt our dinners for him. It means making most things twice.

For example on Sunday it was sweet and sour chicken. His chicken had to be marinated separately and breaded in only corn starch -- no flour, like ours was. It had to be "fried" without any oil. His sauce couldn't have regular sugar (or pineapple juice) in it and I am anti-sweetener, so the sauces had to be made separately, too.

When Greg came home in the evening and saw sauce and vegetables on the stove I could tell he needed it. He looked about dieted out and I could see the fear in his eyes that this was not a diet-friendly meal. He sat down in front of The Sound of Music with the kids and I brought him his riceless version of the dinner. He ate. He enjoyed.

Then he said something that very clearly illustrated his near desperation. He said, "If I hadn't been able to eat that dinner I would have broken my diet."

Woah.

And I have to thank him for more than loving the skimpified versions of favorite meals I'm making for him. I also seem to have dropped almost three kilos since he started his diet. As I have not been eating any more healthy than before I can only attribute it to the strength of his dieting. He does it SO hardcore that even those around him are losing weight. Now there's a diet I can handle! (the kind that requires you to be around your dieting husband. Period.)

Obedience, Trust and What Makes a Mother Cry

I looked out the front window and saw a blonde, suntanned boy standing on the sidewalk shading his eyes while looking up at the stairs to a house that was being built but hadn't been worked on for months. He didn't look sad, upset or jealous. He was just looking.

I leaned my head to the side so I could see what he was looking at. On the stairs stood his three friends. They were talking and kicking rocks off the stairs, just hanging out. And the boy just stood.

He stood way out on the sidewalk because his parents had told him that constructions sites are not places to play, that they can be dangerous. They told him that someone owns those lots so you can't just explore there.

Watching this boy resist temptation and coolly do what he knew he should, even when it was hard and he thought no one was looking made me tear up. That boy was my David.

This same boy loves riding his bike with two of his friends. He wears a helmet, even though they don't, because his parents tell him to. He doesn't ride in the street because it's not safe. He rides on the sidewalk while his friends ride in the street.

He went away to stay with his grandparents for a week and a half. When he got home he found that his two bike riding friends had made friends in his absence with two other boys who also liked to ride bikes.

At first he was happy to meet the boys and become friends. On the first day, though, he realized that these boys also rode in the streets and that somehow this changed everything.

He had come to me a few times crying. He wanted his friends back. He could play with them but when they started riding bikes he simply could not keep up with them. He would just come home instead and try to be brave and not cry while being completely left out of his favorite activity with his best friends.

After a few days he told me about a plan he had to ask his two friends if he could ride bikes with them in the morning and they could ride with the new boys in the afternoon. I know this sounds like a good idea, but my heart was breaking a little for him. As I expected, his friends didn't agree.

David started talking to his dad about changing the bike riding rules. Dad was thinking about it. In the meantime the remaining two and a half weeks of summer were ticking by and David was spending a lot of time at home, left out. The main friend of the two would be returning to his home in Spain soon.

Last night before scriptures and prayer Greg had an announcement. He said that he had walked to a nearby store to pick up some vegetables (a job the kids usually do). While he was out he saw off in the distance David riding bikes with his friend. He rode on the sidewalk. When he came to a street he hopped off the bike and walked it across before getting back on the sidewalk while his friends sailed through the streets much more quickly.

There was no way David would ever have known that Greg or I would see him. Greg said that he was well convinced that he could trust David to do what he was asked. The new rule was that David could ride with his friends in the street, but has to watch very carefully for cars.

Of course I remembered back to the construction site story and got a little weepy.

I am so grateful for these moments in parenting when I realize that even though a child might drive me absolutely crazy sometimes he (or she) is a seriously awesome person with amazing strength of character. And how lucky I am to be allowed to watch them continue to learn and grow. And teach me.

The Poor, Lonely Only Child

I have not poured apple juice for anyone but myself for a week. I have brushed only my own teeth. I have broken up exactly zero arguments and have not lost my temper once.

***

With each successive child after Ewelina I have felt tinges of guilt or hints of sadness that the poor second, third or fourth child never gets as much of my attention or has such a charmed life as the first did.

Now the oldest three have been at their grandparent's house for almost a week and instead of being grateful that Spencer can finally experience having me and Greg all to himself, I keep thinking how poor he is that he doesn't have all his built-in best friends who love him so much around.

We've been traveling like crazy during this week, but on the rare occasions Spencer wasn't strapped into his car seat he certainly showed that he can rise above only-child boredom by: cutting his first tooth, learning to clap and almost starting to crawl.

I guess technically you can learn to clap and cut a tooth while buckled into a car seat, but whatever.

***

The stairs have not been mopped for over a week* and the dust is building up. All the snacks I bought two weeks ago are still sitting in the cupboard. The silence is ringing in my ears and giving me a headache.

This has been extremely good for me in so many ways, but I am excited to have my noisy house, emptying cupboards and dust-free stairs back on Tuesday. And I admit I've spent some time staring at this picture this week.
*Ev and Dave mop (or dust, really) floors of the entire house every day.

More Ways In Which I'm Awesome

By the time I finished reading Evie's copy of Ella Enchanted I quite liked it, but while I was reading it I reflected to her:

"Reading this book I realize that I don't really read books for the story. This book is interesting and it has a good story but. . . all I ever find out about is what is happening." (there was a pause and we both started laughing)

Incidentally a few days later I went to a book store and the book I decided to buy was Moby Dick.

************

Me: (eyes watering) Do you want the rest of my chicken wrap? It's so hot (spicy) I can't stand it.

Greg: Sure, thanks.

Me: (after he's taken a couple of bites) So, how hot would you say that is?

Greg: Like, on a scale of 1-10 where 1 isn't hot at all and 10 is extremely hot?

Me: Yeah. (getting out a tissue)

Greg: Point three.

Me: Blows nose.

There's No Place Like It

I want to go home.

This is quite difficult because I am home.

I love this place that I live. I love the slow pace of life, the simplicity of things, the lack of focus on things. I love the forest and its trees. I love having my in-laws near enough and far enough away. I love learning to make good food from simple ingredients because I don't have any other option. I love seeing my children embrace their nationality and watching them grow up in a different culture than I did, speaking fluently in a language that I still cannot express myself well in, connecting with their father because he understands It All.

Even the things that I don't like about this place I almost love. The fact that most restaurants are called "Restaurant" and most furniture stores are called "Furniture". The way teachers talk to their students. The fact that almost all lighting is either too bright or too dim and always overhead. All of the cakes that need about twice as much sugar as they contain.

I will miss it all one day if/when we move back. But still. . .

I want to go home.

I want my people.

I want my kids to attend a school system that I understand. I want to ride roller coasters. I want to have the option to buy American candy every time I go to the store (and then have the willpower not to). I want to have play dates with stay at home mothers and their children. I want to sit down on someones couch for book club and learn and laugh. I want to sing the hymns I love in English with a congregation. I want chain restaurants and end tables with lamps.

I want my people.

Is it possible to be happy in one place but want, really want to be somewhere else?

Home is where the heart is? Well, then I guess I have two hearts.

You Know You Have a Three Year Old

. . . when, in his presence, you are telling your spouse about a blog post you read and the author's great response and somebody else in the story's not so great (though typical Polish*) response to a scary situation. The child does not understand much of what you have been saying. You finish the conversation with, "It's kinda too bad."

Said child pipes in, "It's kinda too bad? Why?"

That's a three year old.

But you can be grateful if this same child usually follows up his "Why?"s with "Because?" and is satisfied when you respond, "Yes. Because."
*Though it happened in the U.S.

Flattery and a Lack Thereof

"You weigh less than you did when you were dating your husband," my scale tells me.

"You look good for a mother of four," some say.

My clothes, though? And photos? They do not flatter.

All they tell me is, "You're Too Large." (jerks)

I love this photo despite my allergy eyes, partly because it reminds me that I should really get around to eating less some time soon (and mostly because I love being Evie's mom).

(Still waiting for that moment when I suddenly become excited about snacking on dried fruit and nuts and eating small portions and feeling hungry all the time and looking more like how I think of myself. And worrying it won't come until Spencer is weaned. And resigning myself to being large even though I hate it. I just don't hate it enough, I guess. And sorry for another vanity post. Ugh.)

Positive

"I very like it when you happy," Aaron says, after we play goofy for a few minutes.

Hello, Guilt! What are you doing here? Please go away.

It's not like he said, "Wow, mom, you sure aren't happy very often. What a treat!"
Even if that's what you heard.

After some reflection I remember what an excellent big brother Aaron is becoming. After a family prayer through which Spencer squealed and gurgled Aaron went straight to him, took him by the hand and said, "No-no, Spencer. You have to be quiet in prayer because Jesus say you have to be quiet." Then a few nights later after a quieter prayer Aaron came to Spencer again, took him by the hand again and said, "Thank you Spencer being quiet! Jesus is happy because you quiet in the prayer!"

And tonight he congratulated me for doing such a good job eating my salad. Go me!

I have successfully convinced myself that it's his positive reinforcement thing. He just notices good behavior and rewards it with praise. He's not being sarcastic and pointing out what a break these things are from the norm. He's not me.

Still, I'm going to work harder at being happy more often. And at being quiet during prayers. And eating all my salad. And at being more positive, like Aaron.

How to Keep from Melting

Pardon my language, but it is freaking hot. Instead of complaining (Too late. Make that after complaining. Or while complaining.) I'm looking to my boys for tips on how to beat the heat.

Hmmmm. . .

ice cream,

water,
naps

and sitting mostly naked looking out the front door with the cool(er) early morning air coming in while eating toast.

They all work well.

And yes, that is a three year old sitting next to a not yet seven month old (who sits, making my life many times easier). Big boy.

Randomness and My Weed Addiction

• I'm considering taking Spencer off solids. Just until he's potty trained.
• It seems the kids' excuses for not doing what I ask are getting better all the time. Yesterday I asked Ev to come sit by Spencer on the couch so I could go do something else and she said (from her place at the computer), "Um, my patient is kinda gonna die. . . " Well, by all means! Who am I. .?
• The ringtone on my phone is still set at the soothing harp tone I changed it to when I was in the hospital when Spencer was born. That's going on seven months. I don't really need a soothing ringtone anymore.
• Two words that I find to be more welcome than most others when having my teeth filled are, "almost done" (I don't usually prefer to be numbed). Oh man, I love when my dentist says those words.
• When you keep your house at 63 degrees throughout the winter and learn to really like it, it is that much harder to live in the 77 degrees it stays at most of the summer.
• I am developing a bad habit. Nothing I need to repent of yet, but it's becoming an addiction. This morning I woke up and nursed the baby, did my exercise and went to take the trash out to the curb. I was very glad the other kids were asleep so I could take the baby outside with me and indulge myself. It involves weed. I have a hard time knowing it is there and not going to it.
  

The weed in question is clover. Our poor grass is overrun by it in places. I have started weeding it out and I find it to be EXTREMELY enjoyable. Our grass is long right now so you have to grab a little stalk by the leaves, follow it down to the base and grab the branch its coming off of. Then you pull on that and follow it, tearing up the little places it has taken root, until you come to the actual root base to pull up. You have to comb through the grass to keep it from getting stuck as you go. Oh my gosh I love it.

Of course it is actually a good type of weed addiction except for when you go out to do it when you should be doing things like making breakfast and writing articles.

If you have clover in your grass I seriously recommend you try it. It's totally therapeutic and better than dish washing for think time. And probably this is all making me sound weirder than usual. Maybe I am weirder than usual. Yes, I think I am.

Found On My Phone

David likes to take pictures. Here are some of my favorites I've found on my phone.

Chess.
Merengues in the oven. Seeing this picture right after the last one makes me realize that next time I should really see if I can form them into pawns, knights, bishops and royalty so we can get a game out of them before we eat them.

His lid collection:

On this next one all I can say is, "Um, nice, David." (notice Ev reading in the background, as ever. I won't aplogize for exposing you to our couch again. It has served us well and will one day be replaced. I have hope.)
This next one he took from the window of the car on the drive to Katowice. It's my favorite. I could look at it all day. As a matter of fact, I think I will on those hot, sunny days when the rest of the world is out enjoying sweating while they go about their business (why do people like temperatures above 74 degrees!?! I need to move to Southern California, though there aren't enough storms. . .).


And finally one that I actually took, but when I took it it didn't look like this. However, I think Evie's the one who made the improvements to this one.

I love looking through my photos. I never know what I'll find.

No Wonder

I realized recently that over the past few months, every time Aaron says, "You're welcome!"
I have been responding with, "And I like YOU!"

Is it any wonder this kid has been very unfast (slow seems like the wrong (read: bad, label-y) term) in his language development? I'm totally confusing him.

It's his fault though. When you pronounce "you're welcome" like, "Ah lack'em" your mom has a right to think you said, "I like 'em."

Wearing Evie's hat in Old Town Krakow

Summer Do-Overs

School ended on Friday. I'm glad.

Last year at this time I was excited to have a great summer with the kids and their friends. Then reality (or pregnancy, rather) took over and I found myself feeling rotten physically and emotionally. It was all I could do to go through the motions of making sure everyone ate and didn't smell too terrible.

This summer here is how I plan to make up for last year.

Instead of trying not to scowl at the kids' friends when they come over I want to be the involved mother I have been in the past. (By which I mean, apart from planning a few activities for them, regular teasing of all children that happen to be in the same room as me.)

Instead of shutting myself up in the house for the entire summer I want to get out and walk and play ball and swim with my kids. (just to give you an idea, I have walked more in the last two weeks, even before school let out, than I did the entire two months of summer last year, or probably even my whole pregnancy)

Instead of watching my house fall down all around me we have a very solid cleaning schedule wherein we all do our chores for 1/2 hour together and I check the kids work and they check mine (with more tidying throughout the day).

Instead of burying my own nose in a book for most of the day and letting the kids' library books become many, many months overdue I will take them to the library once a week, I will read to the little ones daily and the older ones will each read at least one book per week.

I also meant to do weekly themes with art and science projects and fun lessons. Not sure that's going to happen as I'd hoped, but I'll try to do something. . .

As motivation to keep to this schedule, especially the keeping things very tidy part, Greg is offering Ev and Dave each 2 złoty (about 70 cents) every day that they do it. That sounded like a lot to me (we're cheap) but then he added on the end of the list that they may not whine. If they whine once, they get nothing that day. He is confident we won't be spending too much money with this plan during the two months of summer. I hope he's wrong!