A Cascade of Countdowns

10 more weeks until I go to New York for the Units of Study Phonics conference.  This trip is something I am looking forward to for learning (Workshop, Phonics and how to fit it all in), for all the amazing authentic Asian food (Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Chinese, Thai) I want to eat, for visits with some of my favorite people on the planet (Jenna, Liz, Kaitlin and whomever else I am lucky enough to see), and for runs in Central Park. 

9 more seconds on the timer to take the pizza out of the oven.  I can smell the roasted tomatoes and the blend of four cheeses.  My mouth waters and smiles at the thought of what's for dinner.

8 more sleeps until our new superintendent comes for her transition visit.  This feisty French Canadian Filipina woman is going to be a game changer for our school and my professional learning. 

7 more months or less of diapers.  Here's to hoping that this family can leave less of a carbon footprint and that grandma can help reduce that number in half and get the job of potty training this summer while we hang at the beach.  Fingers crossed.

6 more hours of wake up time.  Last night was my husband's return after a 3 week business trip.  It was a beautiful reunion, good conversation, a bottle of wine and spreading lots of love.  Unfortunately,  tiredness prevailed today, and I have a grad school assignment looming over me that needs to be done before I can hit the hay.

5 more days until grad school is done for this semester.  My assessment in analysis has been an interesting course in that I have learned so much about how coaches approach data conversations in other schools.  This is such valuable information when it comes to moving forward at our school in our assessment journey.

4 days until the Montevideo Half Marathon.  Today,  my head was foggy.  My body ached and the rain poured down in buckets, causing me to switcheroo my scheduled 10 km and rest day.  Amen.

3 more months until Summer vacation.  This summer, I will be in Barcelona with my family and friends and then travel back early to South America so that I can climb Machu Pichu with some pretty fierce women: Christine and Leilani.

2 degrees less this week than last week.  Summer is giving up her fight but my oh my autumn and it's delightful breezes and crisp air brings me such joy.

1 more minute before this 12th slice of life post goes out into the digital world to fly around. 

The Workout Farm

"Okay, your form is really looking good there. Rib cage down, shoulders back.  Engage."
On Mondays, I work out with a cute, American, 20-something med school dropout/ weightlifting champion at a hardcore sparring center, a la Rocky, in the heart of Buenos Aires.

It's not that I want to be Rocky or a bodybuilder or ripped.  Mostly it's about wanting to be able to pick up my child who continuously gains weight because he loves to eat almost everything, which I mentioned in yesterday's post.  That, and as a proud mama, of an incredibly loving, hug, kiss and snuggle giving little boy, I want to soak up every last second of being able to hold him in my arms.

So, there's that and there's also the fact that I would rather drop dead than voluntarily do push-ups or chin-ups or hang from a bar.  It's just not something that sparks joy. 

Therefore, I am super thankful for parents who have always modeled healthy living and have been fortunate enough to work out with trainers for the last 20 years; my brother, who is always experimenting with the latest fitness rage, my trainers or other trainers who have inspired me to challenge myself to do something way out of my comfort zone (ie. running, yoga, core and leg workouts).

#selfcare #SOL19 #luckyinlife #athleticism

My Budding Foodie

My child is becoming too Argentine for my liking. His love for ice cream, chorizo and media lunas (these mini croissants glazed with a little bit of sugar syrup) are of grave concern.  I think he would probably live on those alone along with fruit, carrots and potato chips.

Still, it's fun and interesting to raise an international child.  He is nearing 21 months and he translanguages like no tomorrow.  Going between Spanish and English and intelligently picking the easiest of the words to use when he speaks.  He does love chorizo, ice cream and media lunas but those are pretty good things to eat in general.  I, myself, am a sucker for all three here too.

Representing Mom and the United States, he likes Mexican food, Indian food and any kind of milk he can get his hands on.   Representing Papa on the Spanish side, he likes olives and cheese and salty potato chips.  You can find him at a barbecue, hoarding potato chips or running back to them if I remove him from where they are placed.  Finding a balance of healthy eating is tough when you get out and travel, we feed him healthily at home, with a promise of one dessert  a day(usually a yogurt or an ice cream) if he eats his dinner.  We supplement snacks with oatmeal cereal, fruit etc. but on the other hand, I have no idea what other parents bring for his school snack and when we go out to someone else's house, I don't want to monitor him the whole time. Adults need to have some fun too.  So we just usually let him eat what he wants with the exception of candy.  He is still 21 months and I long to keep it that way but we only have so much control as parents.

I do appreciate the wealth of fruits and vegetables Argentina has on offer, and most of them are seasonal like Spain, so you aren't contributing as badly to carbon footprints like we were always in Malaysia.  This morning, Pablo had a banana.  Later, he had a peach for a snack and during lunch some watermelon.  Just as he went down for a nap, I cut up some pineapple.  The price is right here too. You can walk out of the fruit/ vegetable shop spending $10 with four bags of stuff.  For fresh produce in the States, it would cost 3 times as much at minimum.

It's fun to have a budding foodie at our feet and I look forward to continuing my culinary journeys with Pablo as a partner in crime for the rest of our lives.  

11 Miles Down

I escape from the park
Leaving babe behind
With my Venezuelan secretary
Who is not only an incredible poet
But an incredible person
Who took pity on me
And my first world problem.

Mile 1 is smooth
Zigging and Zagging out of
The Broken sidewalks
I try to make a mental map
In my mind of what my 11 mile route
Will look like.

Mile 2 takes me into
Acassuso, next to Pablo's
School, where I never go
With tempting pastries
Lined in the windows of Confiterias
Colorful and sending
Dares to come in.

Mile 3 is when I start to
Enjoy what I am doing
The air is crisp
It might just be the first real day of Southern
Hemisphere autumn
Which means blissful running weather

Mile 4 takes me by a familiar route
But normally I am a passenger
It's funny how you know where you are
But you still have to pay attention
Because you never know what's going
To come out of Buenos Aires sidewalks or
Corners

Mile 5 and 6 are fun ones.
I buy a bottle of pomelo Gatorade which
Makes it even better. Still,
The sidewalk has no become a jagged trail.
My only fear is my clumsiness
Which would send me tumbling into a
Lane of traffic
Food for the bus and fastly zipping cars.

Mile 7 takes me back to civilization
Alongside the Hippodrome
I catch up with the runners who
Aren't training for races Or
Stick it safe with city built running loops.

Mile 8 is when I start to drag.
I stop to stretch and then continue.
Luckily I cross the train tracks and
The weight seems temporarily removed
From my shoes which had suddenly felt
Like bricks were in them.

Mile 9 along Libertador.
Another stretch.
Not so much longer I tell myself.
You have as much time as you need.

Mile 10 the slowest one yet.
And another stretch
And another stretch

Mile 11 down.
A cool down walk in La Lucila.
Strava off/ mission accomplished.

Next week's 13 miles are going to be rough. 

Almost.. Then...

Need a run?  Yes, I do.

In more ways than one.

Too bad.   So sad. 

Nanny is busy.

Babysitter has SATs

My 3 hours of zen, exercise and peace

Has now become my prime demise

A half marathon a week from tomorrow

My body folds into sorrow

Knowing that I need to get on the road

In order to be able to survive next week's race.

An afternoon stroll to get all that we need

Milk, fruits, chorizo

Ice cream, Chalk, Bubbles

I am feeling good until I scoop Pablo up and 

Notice he is smelly and has two wet spots. 

I coerce him home with ice cream and bananas

In my hands 

Although he doesn't understand 

Why there is no instant gratification.

Cooking dinner

I set my 21 month old on the counter

And he fidgets with the broken coffee maker

And slam

The grinds fly everywhere

In the air

On the floor

Not much room for me to score.

Cutting watermelon 

On the floor

The only way I can keep him occupied

Is to give him a bowl

And put every 5th piece in it

And the others in the one for the refrigerator

He grabs for the knife in the split second

I put it down

And all to sudden sees my frown

Which saves us from a wound 

At least.

Bedtime's norm is milk, books and mama's bed.

We play, snuggle and move to P's place. 

I think I have worn him out and we are on book 8.

I put him to sleep and it seems like he is out almost.

Then...

#TWTblog #Sliceoflife19 #parenting

When the Stars Align

The curry yellow lights blended with the crimson reds flooding the walls of Marula cafe, as 70s funk bursted out of the speakers.  It was 4 am, and fall and an Indian summer, where somehow I was still wearing shorts in October.  I walked towards the bar and all of the sudden was intercepted by a tall man.  

I wish I remembered his entrance line.  How he hooked me, but all I remember, and I hadn't had too much to drink, was talking to him briefly in Spanglish, about living recently in Venezuela.  "I lived in Venezuela this last year." His eyes lit up in the dark.  He found this fact intriguing.  Perhaps, looking back on the situation, this was one of the good things that came from Venezuela "I lived to tell" and there was so many stories.  So here's to the stars aligning, first, returning to a dance club when I had run into friends on my way home  on a Saturday night. Second, being in my groove and comfortable on the dance floor, vulnerable and not looking for any kind of trouble, but just genuinely having a good time.  Times like these where our best shines from the inside out.  And finally, to being thirsty at 4 am or Andres may have never made his move.   It was October 2011, at a little 70s funk discotech in Barcelona that I met the man I hope I will spend the rest of my life with. 

#TWTblog #sol19 #partners

Baking with Mom

I had a rough day so I wanted to write about somethings that made me happy.

Baking with Mom.

When I was just 4
Mom whipped out the bowls
A metal mixer
Some chocolate chips
Shredded coconut
Butterscotch chunks
Graham crackers.

We crushed the crackers,
Melted the chocolate
Sprinkled the coconut
And threw chunks of Butterscotch
On top to make
Magic Cookie Bars

The photo of me with
The wooden spoon
An enormous grin
And my brother nowhere to be found
Sparks sanity on days like these.

When I was 14 and generally cranky,
I came home from track practice
Not hungry after 8-400 m dashes
My mom wanted to feed me
And settled with "Let's make cookies"

She took out the cinnamon
the snow white sugar
the creamy butter
the dusty flour

We mixed
Mixed
Mixed

My grumpiness subsided
Wafts of cinnamon floated through the air
And snickerdoodles came out of the oven
Stealing my hunger and replacing it with joy.

When I was 28 and at home for the first time
In a while, recently divorced
Not wanting to talk
Not wanting to eat

My mom broke out the cookie cutters
The multiple ingredients for 4 different types of cookies
Hershey Kiss Peanut Butter
Mexican Wedding Cookies
Sugar Cookies with Sprinkles
Oatmeal Scotties

She didn't say a word.
We baked in silence.
Rolling the dough
Cutting out shapes

She knew what we had to do.

When the first batch was in
She broke out the wine.
At that point, things had become better than fine.

I smiled because somehow she knew
Those moments together sparked happy brew.

Now that she's gone, my love for baking
Has temporarily been lost and needs awaking.

I long for the day when Pablo and I can recreate cookie magic
With her loving guidance shining upon us.

#SOL19 #TWTblog #Remember