Thursday, September 6, 2012

Hijacking the blog

Thanks to the hubby who provided the password, here are my "posts" from the last week...


Hijacking the Jack Butler Blog…
8/30/12
Well, I thought about hijacking the Jack Butler blog but given my lack of knowledge of blogger and the password I guess this email list will have to work.  While Jack is trekking across Spain I’m going to keep a brief synopsis of the goings on around the house.  I know it always makes me feel better to read what’s going on at home while I’m on the road so this is my attempt to return the favor.  Now beware that I am not the author that Jack is and I am not funny.  So sit back and get ready to read a dry, boring, memo-like account of the Jack-less Butler household.

We had decided I would drive Jack and his Dad to their starting point in the south of France.  On the day we were scheduled to leave I had to give a presentation in a town on the beach an hour and a half in the direction we were heading.  In order to maximize time, and kid duty, we decided they could enjoy the town and beach while I yapped and then we would continue our journey south.  I know he’s mentioned my Jetson-like car with its remote for a key before, but today it would be a source of irritation rather than convenience.  When they dropped me off, I turned off my phone and entered the building purse in tow.  As decided, I called them 4 hours later to come get me.  Well, they couldn’t.  It seems I took my key with me- safely tucked in its pouch inside my purse.  This means they could drive the car, but once they shut it off there was no turning it back on.  Their first, and last, stop was a local sporting goods store.  Thankfully, there was a McDonald’s across the parking lot and there is no fee for hanging out at the playplace all day.  Well, I arrived in my taxi just before they were put to work to find 4 guys as cheery as could be given the circumstances.  Great start- poor guys!

But we arrived to the little town on schedule and quickly found the Pilgram office.  With stamps and weather info in tow, the next stop was their hotel for the night.   After I, being the only woman of the group, did my womanly duty and asked for directions we found it.  The room was small but clean.  The place only had six rooms and the inn keeper explained the check out procedure was to leave your key on the hook labeled with your room number.  So it was actually a bargin for 50 euros a night.   After dinner at a local pizza place we said good bye wishing our men a safe and fun trip and the kids and I headed back home. 
Now as you know, Jack is protective of his little brood and was quite worried about us driving 4 hours back home in the dark in this strange country, even though we’ve lived here quite a while now.  He tends to forget the hours I’ve spent on the road and my build in translator in the eldest, but I guess he can worry if he wants.  Needless to say we made it home just fine with the help of both GPS systems screaming at me just in case one had a faster route.  Upon arrival, I dutifully send a text of our safe arrival and made the kids walk to their rooms.  Sad to say, but I can’t carry them up the stairs anymore.  I’d like to think it’s because their steep and winding- but in reality it’s because both are at least half my size!


Day 1:
It seems I’ve traded in my normal bed partner for 2- the eldest and his dog.  I got little sleep between feet in the face, the dog snoring and refusing to move despite the need to lay right up against you!  I guess this is where I say “stupid dog.”  Sleepily, we made the dentist appointment on time then discovered a store I hadn’t checked yet for serviettes – bibs.  The youngest is in his 3rd year of school at the mighty age of 4 (almost 5) and the damn school still makes them wear bibs at lunch!  Now I appreciate them looking out for his clothes since they’re hard to come by, but really?  Have you ever tried to find a bib that is big enough for a 5 year old? Or one that doesn’t have baby designs on it?  Well, it’s damn near impossible.  Jack made me throw away last years, which I’ve been cussing him about for the last 2 weeks as I’ve been looking for new ones.  But the new store by the dentist finally came through.  Light orange is not exactly manly, but at this point I was considering making them out of a dish towel without a sewing machine.  Needing 4 this was to be an all weekend project, so light orange it is.  We still haven’t called them a bib, as its okay since it’s a “serviette” and all the kids wear them.  Wait until he’s older and sees the pict of me modeling one of last year’s- he’s going to die!

Other than that it was a normal day and we got word that Jack and crew made it over the mountains without the storms they were calling for.  They met up with a couple from Minnesota along the way, and then had to help the woman up from a fall down a steep embankment.  I didn’t get from the text if her hubby was there or not, but I did get the gist that she was rather large and really needed the help.  Guess we’ll have to wait to get the rest of the story in 5 more weeks…

Day 2:

Well, I had to work today so the kids were headed to a friend’s.  Without the other half, we’d have to have an army-like approach.  But, my little soldiers fell in line.  Up, happy, fed, dressed, teeth brushed and out the door only 3 minutes late.  Needless to say my friend had overslept and was still in bed when we arrived- right on time.  So while the kids played and were treated to McDonalds (I didn’t have the heart to tell her they spent the day there on Tuesday…) I worked.  Since all of France is returning from Holidays and realizing all the things that didn’t do themselves while they were away I think I would have gotten more done by going to McDonalds myself!  Oh-well, now I know why my friend chose this week to take off!
The evening went well and I even secured a trip to the neighbor’s pool for this weekend.  It seems our mighty hikers made it through the day, but are staying in a place where they have to share a bathroom with all other how did he put it- Dirty, disgusting, smelly Europeaners?  Well, you get the drift.  If you haven’t noticed by now, Jack is somewhat of a clean freak (and yes dear, we picked up our shoes so there isn’t a giant pile by the door yet).  So he’s in hell so to say.  I haven’t heard about dinner yet, but I can only imagine.  I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the noodles and yogurt he had for dinner last night… 
Well, if I can make room between the eldest and the dog I’m off to sleep in my nice CLEAN bed.  Unless of course the youngest decides my bed is the place to be too then I’m heading to the top bunk.  No one sleeps up there unless you’re a guest and right now the inn keeper’s away so the sign is off…

-The wife

Day 3:    Haircut gone bad
This morning we made it out the door on time, so I have high hopes for making it to school before the final bell next week.  The kids were off to my Friend’s- swim trunks in tow and I actually had a productive day at the office.  Over lunch I went to pick up their school supplies I ordered from the French version of the PTA.  After last year’s debacle of trying to translate and then locate all of the various items it was well worth the money to buy it from the “PTA” and just pray it was good quality stuff.  Of course I showed up right on time and was the second one there.  To my surprise it was actually quite organized.  Each child’s items were boxed with their name on them, segregated by class.  I consider this a small success as I had nightmares of how this could have gone and that I would be picking the items out of a box based on the list and be back to square one.  Now, I would say that they could have put the names on the side of the box so you didn’t have to move every box in the 3-4 stacks per class to find the right one, or had the classes in order but this would have been asking a little too much…

At home we opened their boxes and were quite happy with the quality of the supplies, and the ease!  Although I’m not sure why they thought the eldest would be okay with pink and purple scissors or a pink fountain pen.  Thankfully last year’s scissors are still in good shape and being the pen addict that he is he had already conned Mom and Dad out of a very nice fountain pen the week before.  So, all supplies labeled and packed away in their bags we’re ready for school.  Light orange serviettes and all!

As the boys have let their hair grow for the last 3-4 months they are looking a little shaggy (note they started from a ¼ inch so it is not even fully over their ears yet).  As the eldest is starting to care about his appearance he opted for a professional “coiffeur” while the youngest just wanted Mom to do it based on his very specific instructions.  At the appointed time we showed up.  I had prepared with the help of google translate and my assistant, but the eldest wanted to give her instructions on his own.  He told her he wanted a little off the back and wanted to be able to sweep the front to the side.  Somehow she didn’t listen to a word of his perfect French.  I knew it was bad when she moved to the other side and his hair was well above his ear but by then it was too late.  She must have noticed I was pissed so she asked him how long he wanted it in the front.  He said to just trim it, but she thought this meant take it almost all the way up his forehead and so she did.  In the car, he just said it was a little shorter that he wanted but it looked good so it was okay.  Whew- bullet dodged, or so I thought.  At bath time it was the youngest’s turn and just as I was preparing my barber chair the eldest went to the other bathroom to take his shower.  The sight of his hair in the mirror brought tears, as I was sure it would and rightly so.  He was so upset that his hair wouldn’t be long when we got back to the States and was certain he’d lost a month’s worth of growth (or 2!).  Then I felt even worse when I set about truly trimming his little brother’s hair so that it was presentable and even, but barely any shorter.  So, it is decided Mom is back in charge of hair cutting.  So much in charge I had to cut the naturally growing rat tail off the back of his neck since the scissor happy coiffeur seemed to miss that part.  

Dad had sent a text letting us know of another day successfully completed and after hearing of the incident saved the day by sending the eldest a text.  Our mighty hikers seem to be doing well, or are just leaving it out on the 2-3 texts per day.  They will be run through the car wash before being let back in the house however.  Last night’s accommodations were equally questionable to the night before’s but at least they had their own bathroom.  It seems they continue to meet interesting people from various parts of the world and I’m sure will have a lot of stories.

-The Wife

Day 4:  Dinner and a play at the local Abby

Well, as expected when the eldest clammered out of bed this morning (and yes his own this time) the hair on his head stood straight up just as expected.  He is blessed with double crowns so this is an ongoing battle.  It had just been lying down under the weight of his thick hair for the last month or so, so I was sad to see our old foe return.  He was too.  But in all his wisdom, he indicated that his bangs would grow back before Dad returns and what does he care what his hair looks like- he doesn’t have to look at himself all day long.  I’ll have to remember this bit of wisdom next time I brave the coiffeur, as I haven’t had much better luck than he has…

After lazing around the house half the morning we decided it was time to take care of some chores and head to the grocery store and the cleaners.  Since I can’t fit our duvets in our tinny washer I decided I’d have to do like everyone else and have them professionally cleaned.  I’m normally used to everything being closed at lunch, but the cleaner takes a REALLY long lunch break.  My attack was to put the 3 full sized duvets and my bag of dry cleaning in the cart on my way into the grocery store.  Efficient, even if everyone was looking at me like I was crazy.  Then I realized why.  The damn cleaners was closed until 3 instead of the usual 2.  So back in the car they went.  We bought our groceries plus the 10 extra items the kids always “need” but never eat, but then realized we didn’t have room for the groceries AND the laundry in the car.  Ok, so just get a second cart and put the laundry in there and take it back inside.  Nope.  The grocery carts take either a token or a 1 euro coin.  I had every coin but 1 euro and didn’t have a second token.  Frustrated, I made it work using the front seat as my second cart.  But then became even more agitated when I had to pay 25 euros a piece for cleaning!  Note these are not high quality linens- we paid 40 for most of them so in the end I should have just donated them to the French version of the GoodWill and bought new and I would have felt better about it.  Oh well, now I know to either buy nice linens or give them away when it’s time to have them cleaned and start again.  They’d better look and smell brand new when I pick them up – in 1 week!

As I had stupidly promised we’d go to the pool today, we had to go.   I warned it would be cold given the breezy high of about 70 but you can’t tell a kid that and expect them to believe you.  Dawning our swim suits and pool toys in tow we made our way over to the gite next door.  Thankfully the youngest, who still can’t swim because by French standards he’s still too young for lessons, likes his life vest and gets along just fine under a watchful eye.  I did sit on the side with my feet in the water, but short of one of them drowning that was as far as I was going.  And for good reason.  After 5 minutes, the youngest was shivering.  5 minutes after that the eldest was cold too.  Checking to be sure we left everything in good order I noted one diving ring in the middle of the pool.  Unable to reach it with the skimmer the eldest was told he had to go back in since he was the one that left it there and a forgotten toy did not fall under my drowning rule of the day.  After a fair bit of whining and repeating my attempt with the skimmer, in he went.  Toys in tow we were back inside within about 20 minutes. 

Since we missed the Fete at the local Abby last year, we vowed to make it this year.  Unfortunately Jack isn’t here but given our great experience with a play on the 100 years war I conned the kids into going.  Amazingly they were up to the task and we arrived in the 206 (easier to park and the hubby told me to drive it every once in a while) just 5 minutes after starting.  This is an achievement as I had the urge to rush around but I knew we’d be early compared to the masses so I convinced myself it was okay.  Dinner was served- pork and vegetable soup to remind you of what they ate the 12th century when the Abby was built, with baguette, cheese, apple tart and wine.  My princes sat perfectly and we made friends with the couple and their father who sat across from us.  They were nice and she spoke enough English to translate when her husband explained he worked for Bio (read organic) agriculture production.  So of course he had questions about the US and our “hormone” beef- which was all the more interesting since his father was a chef and we tried to talk food.  I only wish my son would be more proactive in helping me talk to people like this.  I do okay and he helps me pronounce words when people don’t understand my English accent but that’s about it.  The little devil!

Then the play began.  30 minutes late of course.  It was supposed to tell us about the history surrounding the Abby, but between the tarot card reader and the guy who was telling the story I was somewhat lost.  And they tried to make it funny by breaking out modern music every once in a while which the servants in the play disobediently danced to.  Anyway, this humor was lost on me and coupled with the fact that it was cold despite our jackets and that the youngest was asleep in my lap, we bailed.  We weren’t the only ones bored with the production and had more fun watching the drunken group we walked out behind.  Oh well, now we know.  But that won’t stop us from going to the next town’s fete as normally the French have wonderful theater and even if I don’t understand all of it, it is intoxicating to watch.  Besides, if I keep at it I may just convince these uncultured heathens I call a family to break down and go to a symphony with me.  I doubt it, but I haven’t given up hope just yet… 

-The Wife

Day 5:  A normal Sunday in France

We are bums!  We slept until 9:30 and didn’t get out of our PJ’s until noon.  But, since nothing is open on Sundays there really isn’t much else to do.  So with a clean house and a few games of tag, we opted for a nice dinner.  Pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy, and carrots.  The youngest even broadened his mind and tried the mashed potatoes!  As long as they’re vegetables he’ll eat anything these days, convinced by his father that they will immediately make his muscles bigger.  This is good, but what do you say about fruit?  And better yet, how do you explain in a way he’ll understand what is the difference?  After the obligatory 20 questions (10 of which are repeated) he just eats them anyway.

-The Wife

Day 6:  A few last minute pick me ups

The day before school starts and the eldest is still without his coveted Croq Sportifis that are all the rage with the young people here.  It’s sad to see him check their website daily to discover the ones he wants are still out of stock.  Poor guy even broadened his choice of shoe and still can’t get them.  So, as Dad recommended before he left, he opted for a trip to town to buy a new pair of the same shoes he already has.  We were in and out in 5 minutes, then across the street to a clothes store to get a shirt for the new shorts he wanted to wear.  Of course we also came out with a sweater and a Ben 10 shirt for the youngest. 
Then it was time for lunch.  As Mom is boycotting McDonald’s out of sheer cheeseburger overload due to the limited variety of places to eat in a reasonable amount of time, we opted for KFC.  I think every Frenchmen in the world had the same idea.  So back in the car and through the drive through we went.  With our normal 20 chicken strip bucket in tow, we were off to our old stomping grounds to eat in the park.  After scaring off the geese who obviously had a flavor for KFC themselves, not realizing we were eating their cousins, we spent a good deal of time on the play ground. 

On the way out, the boys love to run down a hill next to the stairs.  It’s purely an erosion issue or broken leg waiting to happen however you want to look at it, but fun all the same.  Until they disobeyed orders to stop at the gate.  Running full blast across the parking lot they nearly got run down by an oncoming car.  A firm scolding later and a re-try to ensure they remembered to stop at the gate and we were underway.
As promised, gotta stop doing that, we were to BBQ sausages on the grill.  Determined to get the terrible excuse they call charcoal to light, I reverted to my days as a girl scout and made a stick fire on top to get it going.  After a lot of lighter gel, and yes it sucks too, we were good to go.

A few texts to Dad and the boys were bathed and in bed.  Now, if they don’t stop telling Dad about all the good stuff I’m cooking the cook is going to go on strike.  Poor guy is eating bread three meals a day and an occasional sausage from the store.  Although that is a little concerning as he had to text me to ask how to know if it needed to be cooked or not!  Otherwise they are doing well.  Their feet hurt, as expected, but continue to meet lots of people and have a good laugh finding housing accommodations.  One night all they could find was a room over a bar, which was sadly one of the nicer places they’ve stayed.

-The Wife

Day 7:  The Start of a New School Year

We were up and out the door on time with smiles on faces and the obligatory pictures taken.  This is despite the fact that Mom was dead tired.  The youngest decided he absolutely needed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at 2 in the morning.  I dutifully slept walk down the stairs, made the PB&J, along with a glass of apple juice and headed back up.  Now it didn’t take 3 minutes for the whole thing and guess what- he was already back asleep! 

We arrived 10 minutes before school usually starts in order to find parking.  Note that there is no parking lot for the school and another school is just a block down the narrow one way street so this is a problem even on the ordinary day.  Upon arrival we were “greeted” by his teacher with a demand of if Cash was eating at the Canteen with no Bon jour.  Great.  And then we wait in the court yard. And wait, and wait.  I became concerned when a table with coffee, OJ, and pastries was set up.  I had a meeting at 9:30.  At 9:15 I emailed the guy to let him know I’d be late and started asking questions.  Of course no one knew, but at least the youngest was still excited to be there which was to my surprise.  The finally the directrice came and called each child by name, checking them off the list as they entered the classroom.

By the way, standing in the courtyard full of parents and their kids who are all socializing and bragging about their holidays when only one Mom will say 2 words to you, no wait it was 10 tops, is a little humbling.  I now know what discrimination feels like and will be damned if I ever let something like that happen to another living soul while I’m around even if I can’t speak their language.  Now my French is embarrassingly bad, but I can converse on general topics and I know a lot of them can match my French with their English so this is just bullshit.  I’m just glad it doesn’t happen to the kids, or at least not that they notice.

I did notice a few things myself though.  New clothes, especially shoes, are not a tradition on the first day of school.  Neither is picking up the kid’s supplies before hand and labeling them.  At least 4 of the kids in the youngest’s class of 27 had parents retrieving boxes, opening them and searching for a pen to write their kid’s name on their stuff with.  Also, there are a LOT more girls than boys in all the classes.  The eldest has 7 in his class of 30 or so, and the youngest has a whopping 8.  In addition to that, who in their right mind puts all 8 5 year old boys at the same table and expect them to pay attention?  Now granted, this new teacher is a stern, mean woman who had no problem scolding kids for running with their parents standing next to her, but still.  I’ll be interested to see if they’re still seated like that when I go for the class meeting in 2 weeks.  Last year one of the Moms complained about an English speaking boy in the class, so this year when I can understand 80% of what they say should be even more fun.

Upon picking them up from school it seems both boys had a good day.  The directrice, read principle, is the eldest’s teacher and he reported she was nicer in class than she seems in his casual meetings with her.  Even the youngest likes his teacher.  But it seems Mom was a bit stingy with the after school snacks of apples and 4 Madeline’s each, to the point of getting comments from other kids.  I thought this was plenty and it was more than they usually eat for a snack at home but the worst part is what to do differently.  It’s not as if I can run out and buy fruit snacks, Cheeze-its, etc.  They just don’t have snack food here.  Guess I’ll wander down the grocery store isles again…

-The Wife

Day 9: Club de cyclisme

Today I worked from home as the boys don’t have school on Wednesdays and I thought it was a bit imposing to ask my friend who is off on Wednesdays to watch them every week.  Up with laptop in hand and I got an email from a friend who was helping me make calls to find a cycling club for the eldest and soccer for the youngest.  I’m still not able to make these type of calls by myself as I lack the vocabulary and you’d be surprised what you can do with body language that you can’t do over the phone.  It seems the club I gave her the number to had a group of kids the eldest’s age, but practice (or whatever you call it) was tonight at 3:00.  He needed a bike, check, helmet, check, and bike shorts which would require a trip to the local sporting goods store.  Then I also realized I’d need to install the bike rack on the car, which is the hubby’s job and I’ve never paid that much attention.  Dad would be proud of my “mechanical” skills and it was installed in no time.  Due to the fact that I was working and the drive over would constitute my lunch we had to buy said shorts in a hurry.  Last pair of shorts in his size and a shirt that is slightly too big and we were in and out in a flash.

Despite having directions and 2 GPSs, I got lost.  I drove around for 15 minutes, and finally returned to the building that I had turned around at once before after seeing the 8x12 sized sign with a faded bike on it.  The people were extremely friendly and he had a jersey on and was on his bike and off in no time.  Due to the fact that this little burg was 40 minutes from the house, the youngest and I had brought his bike to work on riding without training wheels while waiting the 2 hours for big bro to ride his bike and I was to get a little work done.  But the poweraide and a deep sleep in the car while I was checking brother in 10 feet away meant we had wet clothes.  He would not stay in them and was naked from the waist down in 5 seconds flat.  Thankfully the eldest had the clothes he wore to the store thrown in the floor board of my car.  After some stern coaxing, we had brother’s pants on with the tops rolled down and him clutching them for dear life.  At the store our strategy was to put him in the cart and for him not to move to avoid showing the world his bare butt.  It worked and with new clothes in the cart (no bags unless you bring your own or buy a new one) we headed back to the car to remedy our situation. 

The instructor said the eldest has good riding skills as speed, but was quite unstable when he goes slow but he had a wonderful time and definitely wants to join.  Then back in the car as quickly as possible to rush to yet another dentist’s appointment.  A 45 minute drive without traffic at rush hour, I was mildly panicked.  Of course we hit a traffic jam, but still managed to make it right on time.  An hour after arriving and we were in the dentist’s chair.  It only took about 20 minutes and thankfully we don’t have to go back for 6 months for a regular cleaning.

Another email from a friend indicated we have a soccer club with practice on Tuesday nights lined out, so even the youngest has had a bright spot in his day.  So now that I’ve finished working since I didn’t get to during the cycling training as planned its late and I’m hitting the hay.  Hopefully this time without the PB&J…

-The Wife

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