Little things about home

There are the main reasons being home that are wonderful: living close to family, having my own home (my dear dear husband is finally here, hooray!), and exposing the munchkins to everything I love about the U.S.

Some of the best things about being home, however, are small conveniences and courtesies. Here's what's been making me smile this month:

--Frrrrrrrozen waffles! Pop them in the toaster and breakfast is ready in two minutes. And don't even let me get started on how exciting it is to go grocery shopping in America. (To those who have never lived outside of the first world, I sound like a babbling idiot.)

--Friendly neighbors. The kind that inquire as to whether I can hear their TV because they're worried it's too loud. The kind that invite us to barbecues and welcomed us to the neighborhood with chocolate cake. The shared front yard mowing-trash can replacing kind. Good people.

--Community activities. Story hour at the library. Children's gym at the community center. Saturday morning farmer's market. Dance and pilates classes to look forward to this summer. All of this community involvement is also known as "making the most of my rather hefty property tax".

--Gardening. I have a tomato plant and an herb pot, and so far, both are still alive. We had a few tense hours last when the temperature shot up above 90 degrees and the tomato plant leaves started to shrivel and fry, but I doused it with water and it pulled through. We have also planted some flowers out front and the manual labor was totally worth it to hear Miss Bee shriek "Earthworms!" I'm still unsure whether her reaction was in joy or terror. Maybe a little of both.

It's good to be here.

Final destination

I have two longish posts that are both halfway done, but I keep getting distracted.

Two quick things though:

1. Have you read this blog? Ohmygoodness, it's all I can do to not dive into my computer monitor every time I visit this site. Oh, Paris. Oh, the wondrous use of color.

2. I had to explain the concept of death to Miss Bee today, gulp. As it came up in a round about fashion, as opposed to a tangible loss, I did my best to put an upbeat spin on the whole concept. As in, "Oh, death? Usually a person is very old! And you get to go to heaven and be with Jesus!"

Bee was satisfied with my answer, but I almost had to pull the car over when she earnestly asked, "Mommy, do you bring a backpack when you go to heaven? And chewing gum?"

Death: the longest vacation, the furthest destination, indeed.

Crazy tired

Ohhhh I had a magical 30 minutes to myself this afternoon. Both of my girls were sleeping. I could have baked brownies, watched the birds visit the feeder, or read up on how not to kill my tomato plant. But nooooo.

Instead, I squandered my time drooling over (ridiculously expensive) Danish bicycles and tricycles online. And I don't even usually ride a bicycle! But it was something about the bicycle basket and idea of riding (slowly) around town on some pithy errand that just sucked me in. It was a two wheeled fantasy of sorts. Then the children woke up.

I recounted this story to my mother at dinner tonight: ". . . And when I finally had time to myself, I didn't do anything," I despaired. She just laughed. I suspect she knows the feeling.

So I haven't had time to post much here because I have my hands full with the girls. God bless all single parents everywhere. I am really looking forward to my dear husband's arrival in the U.S., even though it means I will have to go back to work.

I really am lucky, to have had these seven months away from the whole 9 to 5 (except in my case it's liable to be 8 to 6). But my new office has been a callin' and telling me about my office phone number and my blackberry and how they are looking forward to seeing me bright and early June 2. My domestic fantasy is rapidly coming to an end.

I still have two more weeks at home, which I am sure will speed quickly by--and hopefully I will have the chance to recount a few little stories here--adventures from flying home--our slightly disastrous trip to the zoo--our wonderful little stay at home routine. We'll see . . . we'll see whether I can manage to tear myself away from the bicycles!

Yo Ho

The majority of all my worldly possessions are currently stacked on a medium sized container ship with the not so very inspiring name of "Jean Pierre". Ooh, la, la.

Jean Pierre is a Turkish ship with a French name, and I imagine the sailors on board must smoke a lot of cigarettes and drink a lot of espresso. Maybe while wearing berets. Or a fez (fezzes?).

No, I would much rather prefer that my 6,000 pounds of kitchenware, bridesmaid dresses, anguished teenage journals, and family photographs travel on board a ship that sounds a wee bit more intimidating. You know, like "Rambo" or "Wave Crusher." Something to scare the pirates away.

Jean Pierre is currently chugging through the Mediterranean and just passed by the coast of Sicily. Thanks to the glory of the internet, you can watch him travel in real time here.

The funny thing is, most of my stuff is just that--stuff. Clutter. Tsotchkes. There are very few things I would really miss. Maybe my collection of nativity sets from around the world. My husband would miss his Legos collectibles. Bee would miss her toys and stuffed animals. But really, other than those few things, I think we could start fresh.

Life is delicious

Dishes washed? Check.
Laundry folded? Mostly. So, check.
Dish of ice cream with a brownie on the side? Check.
Celebrating my last night as a 20-something year old? Check!

I am comforting myself with the fact that when I am about to turn 40, I'm sure that 30 will seem so young. But right now, 30 just seems, well, old. I am no longer carded at the grocery store when I buy alcohol. I have a mortgage. I can speak Latvian. It has been a strange and wonderful decade indeed.

On the occasion of my 30th birthday, I am going to be very narcissistic and tell you 30 things I have learned in the past ten years:

1. Bucharest's international airport is the second worst in the world--Miami International Airport takes the cake.
2. I cannot live without books.
3. Take lots of pictures of your kids while they are babies. Lots. They grow up in a millisecond.
4. A Labrador retriever puppy can eat anything. This includes Swiss army knives and marble Easter eggs.
5. Do everything you can to keep "work life" from intruding on "home life." If necessary, defend your home life with sticks and knives.
6. Never underestimate the power of quiet diplomacy.
7. Manuel Antonio national park in Costa Rica has the perfect beach.
8. My children are my greatest joy.
9. I am very good at remembering a compliment, and criticisms, even more so.
10. Living in four different countries in the past ten years has given me a zen-like approach to crisis.
11. My favorite restaurant is in Valmiera, Latvia and I'll probably never visit it again.
12. Cute jeans are an essential clothing item.
13. If you don't let your children watch television, they will find other creative ways to spend their time. This is a good thing.
14. I have the best husband. My apologies to everyone else.
15. Climbing an active volcano is awesome. Being stuck in Romania because of an active volcano is not.
16. It's a good idea to pretend you're someone else when giving a speech to a large audience.
17. People will tell you the most interesting things if you encourage them to keep talking.
18. Cliff jumping is very painful and no one should ever try it.
19. My parents are still my heroes.
20. Babies eventually do sleep through the night. (I keep repeating this one to myself.)
21. Walt Disney world isn't just for kids.
22. Saltenas are the best fast food.
23. Ice hotels are very, very cold. Consider this important fact before choosing to stay in one.
24. Quinny makes the best stroller.
25. Becoming a mother is a miracle.
26. The U.S. really is the greatest country on earth. Don't knock it 'till you've had to live elsewhere.
27. Chocolate is an essential food group.
28. Don't ever attempt to drive through a Spanish village festival.
29. Babies, although adorable, are like little terrorists--don't negotiate with either.
30. Nothing is more important than family.

Sweet Surprise

Waiting for me in my backyard (aka the secret garden):

I love azaleas.
Especially the pink ones.
I pretty much love everything about being home.