Day 1 without the husband: wherein I need a Morning Nanny, a Doctor, and a Plumber

My sister has a little boy. When he was very little he didn't want to sleep, so like all good and sleep-deprived mommies, she turned to the bookstore and the aisle with all the "How to get my baby to sleep" books. While she was browsing, she happened upon a particular title, and as she perused it's contents a woman down the way said. "Oh, that's a great book!" My sister replied, "Oh really, yeah I'm really looking for something good to help me out." The lady replied, "Yeah, my sleep nanny really liked it." At which point my sister smiled nicely, replaced the book, and slowly, ever so slowly, walked away before she either,  A)strangled the woman, B) laughed so hard in her face she peed her pants, or c) both A and B.

I'm not sure that's exactly how it happened or if that was my sister's exact reaction, perhaps I am "projecting" just a wee bit, but the words "sleep nanny" were said, and that's all you need to know. We have a sleep nanny. Her name starts with an O and ends with an A. She's a brunette, blue-eyed, Libra who prefers the mountains over the ocean and beer over wine. And I think she fancies my husband. She is awake anywhere from 2 - 4 times a night tending to the children, and she does a decent job. Some complaining, but I can't expect too much since she works for oreos. I am a lucky lady.

Another reason why I consider myself so fortunate is because I have a husband who doesn't mind taking over the first couple hours of the day, once the sleep nanny is off duty. Children wake and Martin collects them from their beds, feeds them their breakfast, brushes their teeth and gets them dressed. Then, he ever so lovingly and gently wakes me by handing me a cuddly 10 month old to snuggle, while at the same time placing a hot mug of perfectly doctored coffee on my night stand, sometimes accompanied by a breakfast sandwich.

This morning, well, this morning was a rude awakening. My sleep nanny is still here, working her little tale off, thank goodness, but Martin.  Martin is in Poland. (safe and sound, thank you Guardian Angels!) Sleep Nanny was off duty at 7am and I was on. It wasn't a pretty sight. I had half a bottle of D.P. and a pumpkin cookie to get me going. Slung some kid cereal at the kids, managed some baby cereal for Kacio and then, when all of that was done, it was 8am, the time I would normally be rolling out of bed. I don't need a sleep nanny, but I could sure use a morning nanny.

Time for the day to start, must get Felix and Lina and Kacio in the car by 8:30 to get Felix to school by 9am. Getting everybody dressed, Kacio first while the others clean up the living room... only to stumble upon this little surprise...

Any caretaker of small children has probably seen this at least once, and knows not to panic. But regardless, it's not something you want to see because it means your child is covered in hives and uncomfortable, and that they are allergic to Penicillin (first Felek, now Kacio). So, change of plans, kids to grandma's and Kacio to doctor. 1.5 hours later, a new scrip for more anti-biotics.( I'm giving him 24 hours to show me he even needs them.  He just got off 9 days of drugs! This is usually something Martin and I decide together, whether or not to give the meds. the doctors push on us. But he's not here, soooo... So much medicine, such a little boy...goo.)

So, I got the doctor I needed. Still not happy with the outcome, but got the doctor.

So, it's the end of the day now, lots of stuffed happened in between now and then. Tiring stuff.   Kids in bed, and my last task of the day...

... unclogging the kitchen sink. Conveniently, right before Martin left, Tuesday night, the kitchen sink got clogged. Someone, not saying who (it was me), put some inhospitable food down the garbage disposal and now the dang thing drains an ounce an hour. Martin volunteered to fix it that night but I knew that if I let him he would never be packed in time (for which we both suffer, so it wasn't a completely selfless act) so I didn't mention it again and he forgot and now I have it. I have managed to avoid it all day, but now me, and this guy...

...are sharing a beer and working on the clog. He's not really doing a "max" kind of job at the moment (I think he might be drunk) and it looks like I might actually have to do some sort of drain cleaning/unclogging by myself (*I* may need to be drunk). This is disgusting in every way. When Martin does it there is always some nondescript black gunk that gets pulled out, it smells like death, and it may or may not be moving on its own. I am not looking forward to this.

So me, the sleep nanny (yeah, she's back on duty), and the "guaranteed" plumber are going to try and tackle this drain before bed because the house smells like old rotting food and stagnant water. At least I'm not alone, right?

In conclusion: I need a morning nanny (Martin). I have an ok doctor (without my chief consultant, Martin :( ). And I'll  let you know if I have a plumber (usually Martin, but today...I can do this, but that sleep nanny is already complaining, she is *such* a whiner, gah...)...

I miss you Martin... I hope Poland appreciates all I have given up for you to be there!  ;), LOL, just sayin', LOL, ;), LOL, just sayin', LOL, ;), ;).


P.S. Don't worry, I'm not planning on posting 14 of these.

UPDATE: Sink unclogged. Took all the pipes apart, caught the clog and water in a bucket, cleaned everything up in under 30 min. I am awesome and now the whole world knows it...accolades for me, accolades for me, la la la la la la...accolades for me!

"He left us... he left us!"

One dollar to first commenter who can guess where my Post "quote" title comes from.

Martin and Hejjo left today for Poland, for two weeks.

I hate airplanes. I don't really like airports. I don't like not having my husband around to talk with and laugh with and share the joys of house and home with, but, more than anything... I can't stand being away from my kids!

TWO WEEKS?!?! The longest I've been separated form Hejjo was maybe two nights while we were waiting for Lina to be born and by the end of those two nights I was so stressed and missing my boy's and labor wasn't kicking into "active" that my midwife suggested bringing the kids home so we can all just be together and I can relax...and she was born 5 hours later (the boys slept through the whole thing, and when they woke up, baby sister was right there watching them eat their breakfast)!

I need my babies with me. Plain and simple.

But all that boring, mushy, mommy stuff aside, I am excited for them and jealous. The highs in Poland are in the lower 70's, the lows in the mid 40's. Are you kidding me? It was into the 100's here again yesterday. Change, people, all I want is some change. Temperature, precipitation, I'd take a little dramatic cloud cover, anything. Oh yeah, and then there's the whole....GOING TO EUROPE thing. I mean, We travel there a lot, but I'm not so 'high falootin'" that I don't recognize the awesomeness of getting to go to a whole other Continent. Lucky. So jealous! And they will be doing so much fun stuff, and so much important stuff (to be divulged later...sooo exciting folks, sooo exciting, so exciting and wonderful that it brings tears to my eyes out of joy and happiness whenever I think of it, and now I know all... what's that over there...oh, yeah... 11 Followers... are sitting on the edge of your seats), I can't wait to hear about it!

We will be talking over skype daily. And I have been instructed to make Lina and Felek watch Polish videos every day so they don't go two whole weeks without hearing the language. If I have to, I have to. And if something happens (God forbid!) I have also been instructed not to be mad at Poland. I'll do my best. No promises.

What do you mean "two whole weeks without your fine cooking and your expert housekeeping skills?"  I'll be a mess! A mess! (he's going to kill me for posting this pic. But he's not here, sooooo......)
 

In baby years, 2 weeks is like 6 months. Will Kacio even remember Martin?

That's Lina saying goodbye. Two whole weeks without her daddy. sniff. sniff.

Hejjo and "Tiff Bunny"

Getting in line.

Waiting in line

Bye, guys! Have fun!

P.S. Stay tuned for a "Nuts and Bolts" about transatlantic travel with children under the age of 6. I have done it, you can too....I promise!

P.P.S, Oh, and yes, we do have another child but he had school today so we dropped him off on the way to the airport. He is right now enjoying a "Knights and Princesses" party at school where the children dress up as Medieval Saints (Felix is St. George) in costumes and eat a "feast" (Felix brought PB&J and Teddy Grahams...what? I packed for Hejjo and Martin all day yesterday...give me a break! Man, you really don't want to know what his costume looked like, but it involved a lot of staples and even more prayers. I promise, I do love my son.).

Sometimes the Holy Spirit whispers...

... and sometimes He yells.

Martin and I have been joking all summer that God has been whispering to us that this year is the year to get out of America. The drought, the heat, the house getting incredibly cramped. All of these "hints" have been adding to the feeling that it is just our time to leave.

And today, we got the final "hint" in the form of an in-your-face-I- can't-possibly- be-more-more-clear-than-I-am-at-this-exact-moment, downright yell, from the Holy Spirit...

One of the fire engines down the block. And a water station for the fireman. It was at least 95-100 degrees out there at the time. Thanks guys!

That's Martin spraying down our trees that we've been nurturing for 5 years. Across the street is the home of our sweet neighbors who lost their brand new deck they have been saving for and building for 2 years. The only loss of property, but still, I feel sad for them.

As we approached our home we saw the news teams pull away from our neighborhood, then we saw the people on the streets, then we saw the fire engines on our block, then we saw our street blocked off, then we talked to the police officer who wouldn't let us drive down our street...

Policewoman: Do you live on this street, sir?
Martin: Yes.
Policewoman: What's the address?
Martin: 6440
Policewoman: (long pause) Um, well, it's right near there.

Yep, right across the street.
My heart was in my throat.
There is ash covering the backyard.
And now our house smells like a Motel 6.

A news team reporting live and Martin taking out the trash.

Managing my expectations Part 2

Martin put his stamp of approval on the list from yesterday. It was a fun exercise. Most of the elements came from a bunch of emails from some very generous souls, who have shared their ex-pat experiences with me. It was eerie and at the same time reassuring how many points were almost word for word the same from complete strangers answering my question of, "what's it really like in Poland."  And as much as the list and the accompanying paragraph were a bit, how should I say, general, the spirit of the exercise came through.

So now I have a different list. While I have gotten many emails detailing the little idiosyncrasies of Poles, the cultural norms which seem foreign and at times undesirable perhaps, I have also gotten a lot of encouragement about how much I am going to like it there, and why. I also have my own memories and perceptions, and here it all is, in list form:

- Poles are chivalrous
- Poles are hospitable and warm
- Polish food is delicious
- Poland around the holidays is beautiful
- Poles are loyal
- Poles are spiritual
- Poland is beautiful
- Poland is safe
- Poles are determined
- Poles are hard-working
- Poland has an undying spirit
- Polish schools are rigorous and challenging
- Poles take time to enjoy the little things
- Poles can talk about "real" things
- Poland is "the savior of Europe"

I'm not gonna lie. I am not looking forward to the negative or difficult aspects of the culture. I have expressed to Martin several times that I am worried that if the general attitude of the country is sort of a downer or I have to worry about a pretentious bus driver correcting my Polish around every corner, that I may just become a depressed mess. Discouraged and beaten down by all my inadequacies and faux-pas's and at the same time, the general feeling of just not "fitting in."

The funny thing is, I have never actually experienced a lot of the negative cultural tendencies that Martin and others have warned me about. In fact, I would be more inclined to pass along my little "happy list" above than yesterday's post. My experience has been of Martin's family in Poland. A happy and content group of people, always welcoming and warm, ready to give you the shirt off their back if you feel even the slightest chill. They are devout, and good. The men kiss your hand and open your door. The women care for your children and fill you with delicious food. They love unborn children and the elderly. And the youth, at least the ones I know, really believe in something.

I can't figure out yet if I will be able to see all of the good for all of the not so great.The beautiful forest, for the crooked and thorny trees  I hope I don't become bogged down in the "you just can't do that in Poland" and press on to the "well, if you're gonna do it after all, I'll help you til it's done." I hope I will be able to brush off the cold and the dark and the paranoia. And embrace the undying spirit that lies underneath it all.

And, in keeping with the spirit of yesterday's post (which just means silly Youtube videos). Here's a cheerful little diddy that our family loves.

Managing my expectations Part 1

A friend shared with me today a little run-in she had with a Polish woman at the store. The woman told her that she had potty-trained her child by the age of 7 months, and that, in Poland, every mother potty trains her child by the age of 1 because diapers are so expensive. Assuming, of course, that if you didn't do so the kids would poop you out of house and home. Oh, my friend(s), it just isn't true, but Martin got a hearty laugh out of it (as did I.  Quite honestly, I'm still laughing... at the woman...you DID NOT potty-train your child by the age of 7 months, you big fibber) and it led me to think up this list of "truisms" I've heard about Poland:


- Poland is cold
- Poland is dark
- Poles are paranoid
- Poles are stand-offish
- Poles are combative
- Poles are constantly complaining and griping
- Poles think drinking cold drinks give you sore throats
- Poles think eating hot breads and cakes will give you a stomach ache
- Poland = red tape
- Poles = bureaucratically defeated
- Poles have inferiority complexes
- Poles have superiority complexes
- Poles try to "get away with stuff"
- Poland = homogenous
- Polish soccer fans are thugs
- Polish language is the hardest language on the planet
- Poles want "everything on it," literally and figuratively.

So, in summary, Poles are constantly cold, inside and out, and yet will only eat or drink room temperature foods. If you ask them if they will win the fight  they'll say "of course not" but tell them they won't and they'll be the first to draw their sword. You can't get anything done in Poland because there are so many forms to fill out that everyone has just given up trying , and chances are, if you do get anything done people will just assume that it was achieved through ill-gotten means and suspect you of being "one of them." Whoever "they" are.  You will never be able to learn the language so you might as well not even try and even if you do figure it out, once you start talking , you will probably be wrong.  Stay at home if there is a sporting event going on, but if you feel like taking your life into your hands, and attending a soccer match, at some point, make sure and order your hot chocolates like this...

or else you'll stand out like, well, like an outsider.

From the horse's mouth.

 Me: Ugh, I can't reach the chocolate syrup at the bottom of this cup with any of our regular spoons. I need a tea spoon.

Martin: You mean an "iced tea" spoon.

Me: Yeah, well, when I was growing up that was the only thing that existed, everyone knew what you meant. I need one of those, a tea spoon.

Martin: Yeah, well you can just forget about that right now. Because there's no drink that cold or that tall in Poland.

Me: What are you talking about?

Martin: All the cups are small and there's no ice.

Me: You're so right! Why is there no ice anywhere in that country?!?!?!

Martin: Because the weather *is* the ice. Everything they've told you is true! It's cold all the time! You don't *want* to drink anything tall and cold, because it's always cold and rainy and dreary outside! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!