Midterm break, Day 4

We decided with Lily that she can finish out the week at Art Splash making art projects and spending time with her friend, Eden.  It's just four and a half hours, but that time is so precious for me.  Not only do I get to do things with only one child, the small one, I can do many of the household chores while Lily is gone and then we can play and read and do activities when she gets home.  That's the theory anyway. 

Today has been tough because I never seemed to get my strength in the morning and often felt behind the eight ball.  One highlight was Virginie's swimming lesson, a make up class, where I think she performed well because she was in the water a 1/2 an hour earlier than usual and she felt confident and well rested.  She really swam well and listened and I can see all that she has learned.  Proud Mommy.  The bus ride home was quick and painless.  We'd even met another little eighteen month girl and the two of them just stared at each other and pointed until we got off.  A shower to rinse off the chlorine and a quick nap left me with the impression that this would be a relatively easy afternoon.  Silly rabbit.

From the second Lily got home, her enthusiasm for art making and mess making was in overdrive and while I think I am pretty fast, I am no match for two crazy people with a penchant for getting things down on the floor and ground into the carpets.  Nonstop talking the face off, drawing, cutting, gluing, Hi-5 watching, asking for water, I mean juice, I mean water, no juice, popsicle? put my head in a spin.  I stopped and sat down to watch Oprah in the middle of the chaos.  Just couldn't do another thing.

Sometimes the bitter pill of being a stay at home is too much for me.  I miss being able to walk the streets of NYC, even with the girls in tow, just to clear my head.  I don't yell at the girls and don't let them see me completely break down, OK, a little, but I will state again, this job is really the toughest going.  Don't be fooled by the window dressing of cute little people in cute clothes.  They spin kiddie records that will infiltrate your soul and having you singing Five Senses here we go in the wee hours of the morning and can wreck a professionally cleaned house minutes after the work is done.  Change menu interests mid-chew.  Call you in the middle of the night to ask for the sip of water right next to their bed.

Four days down, one more until the weekend and on that day I have chosen to host Toddler Tunes.  My mind is oozing out of my ears.  Only possible answer.

(c)  Copyright 2010.  City Mom in the Jungle.

Midterm break, Day 3

I was thankful for Lily passing out so early last night.  I had foolishly hoped to make some headway on the book I am reading and get some writing done.  Virginie had other plans, or at least the teeth ripping through her tiny gum line did.  After falling asleep sometime around 8 pm, the wee one began screaming at 10 pm and didn't stop until Didier had moved out of our room into the girls' room and just the two of us were left in the big feather topped bed.  She then passed out for nearly 4 hours.  We all slept relatively well and got up in time to get ready for Halloween Camp.

And so we made it to Art Splash on the South Coast Road at just 8 am.  Eden was already there and though she had expressed interest, even excitement yesterday, she was clinging to her mother and looked like she would gladly have gone home if Lily didn't arrive.  They are funny, four year old girls. Who knows what is going on with them.  After all the crying yesterday, Lily sat down nicely in her chair next to Eden.  The class was made up primarily of older kids, six and up, and for a newly 4 year old, those may as well have been teenagers.  The place was adorable and all the "aunties" offered smiles and lots and lots of materials to make things!  All the children changed into Art Splash t-shirts which also functioned as smocks/art aprons so they could get as dirty as they liked.  Didier, Virginie and I tiptoed out as Lily was escorted to the bathroom by one of the aunties.

Getting Started @ArtSplash

When Lily returned home that afternoon, she was beaming from ear to ear.  Just as Mommy had suspected, this Halloween Camp was right up her alley!  She'd made a papier mache spider she's named Tina Ballerina and promised to spend the rest of the week at ArtSplash.  It's not cheap, but as the only game in town, it's worth it.  The Children's Museum of Manhattan was a special place for us and nothing can replace that, but this place made Lily so happy.  It's been a long time since I have seen something grab her like this.  Making art is in her blood and it seems to get her jazzed when other things in life get her down.  She's one of us.  We will investigate some of the other options the place offers.  I hear they have a Baby ArtSplash for kids under three.  That is much less expensive than Lily's classes and I think Virginie will love it!

For more information on Art Splash Barbados, check out their website:  www.artsplashbarbados.com


(c)  Copyright 2010.  City Mom in the Jungle.

Midterm break, day 2

Up at the crack of dawn and it was raining.  I found myself in bed next to Virginie again, with Lily snoring quietly in the bed next to us.  I tiptoed out of the room back to my own where Didier was snoring less than quietly.  I moved in for the snuggle when Lily appeared almost instantaneously.  "Bonjour, Papa.  Bonjour, Maman.  Can I watch?"  Shorthand for, can she watch TV out in the living room at 5:45 am.  Dirty minds.  I asked her to snuggle with me as I have missed our cuddling sessions since she was a little girl.  She has become a big girl so suddenly and I have to steal my hugs.  Unless, of course, she has done something naughty.  As we snuggled and chatted in bed we heard Virginie over the monitor calling for Mommy.  Try as we might to steal a few more minutes, everyone was up and moving by 6:15.   Recorders and xylophones got the groove going before 7 am and Mommy had two loads in before Papa even left for work at 8:45. 

The cleaning team showed up late, no surprise there, and for some reason I give them full run of the place and had the girls out on the patio and in the garden while they took care of business in the house.  It was nice to be out there and not too hot.  I got a little too relaxed and then bam!  Lily clocks Virginie on the swing when the little one walks in front of it trying to tell Lily something.  Yay.  Blood everywhere for the second time in a week.  Virginie looked like a baby vampire, but it was all show.  Five minutes later and she was smiling, no sign of trauma.

Because we'd been home all day waiting on the cleaning crew and then waiting on Virginie to nap, I'd promised Lily a trip into Holetown on the bus, blue or yellow, whichever came first.  Of course, that really meant a trip in on the yellow bus, because it is the only one we ever see.  Ok, not exactly true, but they seem to come at a disproportionate rate compared to the government sanctioned blue bus.  Lily and Virginie sat on my lap as we careened through the narrow West Coast Road, also known as Highway 1, until I was sure we would be propelled through the windshield rather than make our actual stop.  A small tour of the Super Centre yielded watermelon, bananas, and all the boxes Flavor-Ice push up popsicles available in the store.  As Lily was so good on this journey, I bought her Dr. Seuss's There's a Wocket in My Pocket for some insane amount of money and then we made our journey back home.  I made a little pasta and salad for Lily, some chicken franks and carrots for both and made mention to Lily that as a treat, tomorrow she would get to go to ArtSplash for the morning to do some art projects with her friend Eden and some other kids.

And the record skipped.  I thought this would be awesome, but Lily burst into an explosion of tears and sniveling, freaking her face off and hysterically screaming that she was too scared to go and didn't want me to leave her.  She loves Eden and she sure as hell loves making projects.  I was just so shocked at her response that I was dumbfounded.  At first, I got pissed.  Inside, of course.  Not because she didn't want to do what I suggested, but because I just could not understand what was going through her mind and I was tired and desperately in need of a break from the two of them.  I am over this single parenting thing and wanted a minute, just one, to sit the heck down and not be thinking about what would make Lily or Virginie or Lily and Virginie happy and satisfied and on the road to becoming successful individuals because of all the attention and loved I'd showered on them.

Then I came to and found myself holding Lily in my arms and telling her how I would never leave her and would never ever send her somewhere that I did not feel safe or good about.  That I hoped for her to have a wonderful time making art and learning with other kids and that I would be right there when she got home to hear about it and love her and acknowledge her.  I called her what I always call her, "My number one girl, " which she corrected and told me that she was my "number 4 because she is 4" so then I called her that.  I don't think this is resolved and we will see how it unfolds tomorrow morning.  In fairness, Lily was so tired, she went to sleep before 7 pm and maybe the freak out was more about fatigue than craziness.  Or shyness, really.  Fear.  My little girl is afraid.  Again, I will help her through this.  It's Tuesday.

(c)  Copyright 2010. City Mom in the Jungle.

Midterm break, day 1

After roughly 45 days of school, the Ministry of Education has offered the annually scheduled midterm break for all students in Barbados's primary and secondary schools.  While this may not mean much to many, for me, it means a week at home with the ladies where I, and I alone am responsible for their entertainment, education, recreation, meals, and all other scheduled programming.  It is both an honor and a thrill.  Seriously, I love being with my two cherubs, but it is exhausting and as they are both talkers, better than most, I will have lots of conversation and opinions to deal with all week long.


In all the excitement considering a full week at home with both Lily and Virginie, we all prepared to take Virginie to her early morning 18-month check up in Speightstown.  As we prepared to leave, Lily began complaining of an pain in her ear.  What began as a little moaning about a small pain in her ear, quickly escalated into tears, a red face, and tugging at her lobe.  By the time we were in the car on the way to the doctor's office, Lily had a fever.  We sat in the waiting room while the doctor finished with another patient and Lily, who usually played with every single toy in the toy box curled up next to her father and occasionally asked to sit on my lap.  Virginie handled her job as second string mess maker with aplomb.  The room was a disaster in seconds. 

Excited to say that both girls are healthy, Virginie a mere 7 lbs. behind Lily though she is almost three years younger and that Virginie took her shot in stride.  She cried only because the toy used to distract her was taken away.  Lily got a quick dose of pain relief to help her with the earache and lots of prescriptions and then we were on our way.  Because of the water in her inner ear, Lily got nauseated immediately as we pulled off and before she could even tell me what was wrong, there was vomit.  Everywhere.  All over her body and it seemed to keep coming.  I frantically called back the doctor who told me that this was quite normal and that once she got out of the car she would improve. 

That's a little difficult to explain to a 4 year old who is covered in vomit crying in the backseat of the car.  I told Didier to pull over so that I could change her and he had the nerve to tell me that the damage was done, that we should just drive home.  What?  I will cut you.  You'd better pull over so I can assess the needs of my child and get her clothes off.  I am not going to have my child soaked in throw up, screaming, driving home.  Pauvre epoux francais.  He just doesn't know how the black American mommy is going to come out.  Lily made it home wrapped in a towel, exhausted, a little scared.  Didier, with the evil eye on his back.

While Didier washed out carseats and picked up prescriptions, I got the ladies settled in for an afternoon nap.  All three of us slept in the double beds in the girls' room, Lily on her own with toys and animals wrapped around her, Virginie and I together after a quick naptime nursing session.  Waking up at 1:45 pm was glorious.  A break in the day, a dream.  The rest of the evening was uneventful.  Two viewings in a row of Hi-5, some drawing, a little dinner, and a story.  Lily missed her French class at l'Alliance Francaise, but all in all we made it through.  I think Lily will take one more healing day and then be back up and running, save a visit to the pool.  The doctor has advised a few days off to let her ear heal.  Not bad for the first day.


(c)  Copyright 2010.  City Mom in the Jungle.

Between a rock...

I have found it difficult to write these past few days because my thoughts and feelings are jumbled.  There is so much on my mind that I cannot get a coherent thought to come through, especially given that the last few nights have been killer teething events.  Blood.  Gum tissue.  All the good stuff.


We are half way through Didier's contract at the hotel and the question that continues to haunt us both, though we have a difficult time discussing it together, is "Where do we go next?"  There is no secret that I could leave Barbados tonight with an overnight bag and some toys for the girls and be gone, but that is really just a fantasy.  There is much to consider.  A place where we could feel safe and stimulated intellectually, emotionally, artistically, spiritually.  Lily's schooling.  Somewhere we could afford and possibly call home for years to come.  It gets harder as the kids get older because we don't want them to have to leave their friends constantly.  Lily forms lasting friendships and attachments.  Yes, she is only four years old, but I can still see the scars of the upheaval from New York.  Her sense of security comes from faces she is familiar with, people she can trust, routine.  That said, she will attach to Barbados in ways that we will not and we won't be able, or willing, to stay here forever for that.  So already I know that I will hurt her no matter the decision.


In my mind, it has always been New York and everywhere else.  It still stands that way to some degree.  Forever in my heart will be the place where everyone flies a freak flag, even the straightest arrow, and where, despite the show business there is honesty and integrity in the choices.  Sure there are pretensions and egos at exhausting levels, but there is room for everyone and we all still have to wait together on line at the DMV or on the subway.  You can find your own band of freaks and keep it moving.  It's why people from small towns all over the world funnel into the mecca to try to make the world their own.  The pettiness of small town living behind them, they are able to unfurl their flag, open to their hearts to their own joy, and live.  I miss it.

My freak flag has long been flying at half mast or, at times, taken down completely.  It's no fun being a freak in a tiny village and surely not if that village is a developing country situated in the Caribbean all by its lonesome with identity issues of its own.  You stand out.  You become a target.  We don't want to be a target.  We don't want attention.  And for all the parading in New York, you have to do a hell of a lot to get attention.  Everyone is pretty much doing their own thing and doesn't have time to stop and check the others.  Maybe a glance, a smile, a rolled eye, or a head shake, but nothing to write home about.  And here, I am writing home.

New York was my home.  And she isn't any longer.  I have taken over a year to get that into my thick skull.  I don't live there anymore.  No one is waiting on my return, not exactly.  While we have many friends and relations there that we miss and talk about all the time, life has gone on, new restaurants, shops, hotels have gone up on streets that we love and we are not there to make note.  Subway fares have increased and though the rest of the country endures a tough housing market, real estate in New York is reported as brisk.  We cannot afford to move back.  Not financially and not emotionally.  It's the sad truth and one that has left me bereft and unable to express my grief.

I have made friends here that I love and care about and I can see how happy my children are with a beautiful big house and a pool and the sea at walking distance.  But I cannot shake the feeling that I am still barely awake, in a dream state where I am not sure if I am actually asleep dreaming, or if I am walking through life completely fogged.  The alternate universe where MY head exists isn't in Barbados because I do not exist in the present.  Whenever I return to the life I knew, I feel like I've come back from an alien abduction and cannot account for the time.  I am already planning for our departure even though I don't quite know where we will go.  I am not quite depressed, and certainly not as I was when we arrived, but neither is my heart chakra spinning like a dervish, radiating, glowing, inspiring.


There is a low, dull hum of resignation to our situation here.  I have the feeling that I must accept it for the sake of the family entire, rather than project my dreams and needs right now.  While I don't miss the mess that is our healthcare system, nor the increasingly expensive task of providing my children with a good education and exposure to culture, art, and intellectual stimulation, I miss the States.  I miss the New York Times.  I miss good Chinese food.  I miss foreign films.  I miss dialogue.  I miss my friends, my city, my neighborhood, my work, my agents, the buzz, the pulse.  And maybe I will miss that wherever I go.


(c)  Copyright 2010.  City Mom in the Jungle.

The order of things

I am the oldest child in my family having been born two years and one month before my sister, Sharyn, and five years and ten months before my brother, Jeff.  Expected on Valentine's Day, 1970, I came roaring in after New Year's Day to the shock and surprise of my parents and all their friends.  For years, I'd thought it was surely the champagne, but my mother swears by a medical condition.  Uh huh.  Whatever the case, I was their test doll and as a premature baby in 1970 left cooking in the incubator to get me up to snuff before being sent home, I can only imagine the terrors and freak outs with which I'd provided my young parents.

Lily was induced...and thank heavens for that.  The summer she was born was one of the hottest on record in New York City and the thought of commuting back and forth to the hospital for check ups after the 40 week due date because I was elderly (At least that's how it seemed when they kept referring to me as a "mature mother" because I was over 35.) was not appealing to my sweaty underboobs or swollen cankles.  Even with all that coaxing and pitossin, Lily still took her time and finally made her guest appearance with a piercing scream after nearly 22 hours of labor.  Joy.  Some of it brought on by the 1 1/2 epidurals it took to sustain my sanity.  Most brought on by my overwhelming sense of love.

I write all of this to say, that Lily, our first, takes her time.  It takes her a while to feel safe and comfortable.  Once she does, she opens up with so much warmth, love, and chatter, but she wants to be sure first.  At the 40 week mark in my pregnancy, I'd had very few contractions and was hardly dilated but Lily did keep kicking and twisting around.  Even now, she is a wild banshee close to home, but out in public, she bites her nails, whispers when she talks, gets a sly little smile when she knows she has done something well but doesn't want to brag.  She is shy and inquisitive and likes to figure things out for herself.  She comes home and regales us with stories about how other kids have behaved (badly) and how well-mannered and behaved she has been.  I love talking with her and hearing her views on the world.  And she definitely has a lot of views to share. 

Virginie is my brawler, shot caller.  One of my friends calls her "Roller Derby Girl" because she is such a bruiser, strong and sturdy.  Virginie barely gave me enough time to write my name on the admitting form at the hospital before she came barreling into the world.  My sanity was momentarily lost as, before I'd even had a chance to slip into that hospital gown, Virginie started terrorizing my body and had me dilated from three to ten centimeters in thirty minutes.  I screamed out, while cursing under my breath for Didier to stop trying to put some clothes on me, "Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour, PLEASE have mercy on us!"  Seriously.  No epidural, no gown, no clothes, no prep.  Just suddenly, Virginie, who looked at us first and then started her cry as if first assessing whether she had picked some good ones.

Now, she is only 17 months old, but Virginie is a force to be reckoned with.  Still.  She comes into a room and takes over.  Her personality, her energy, her sense of self is so strong.  She is chatty, like her sister, and demanding and daring.  Where Lily says, "I don't think I can do that," Virginie charges in and though she might bump her head or fall down, goes for it.  Many times I have walked into a room to find Virginie standing on top of a counter or chest of drawers waiting for me to help her down, laughing her face off and grinning from ear to ear.  She hugs and kisses all of us with abandon and says, "Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi" to whomever is within earshot.  Even in the grocery store.

Lily and Virginie often remind me of my sister and me.  Sharyn, though younger, has protected me and guided me sometimes when I was shy or insecure or just a plain old freak.  I understand Lily and see her fears and frustration sharing everything with Virginie who appears to be willing to take it all if she had the chance.  Lily loves Virginie, but often doesn't want to share with her unless she has decided on her own that she wants to include that little bugger.  Virginie, on the other hand, would follow Lily into the classroom and sit at Lily's feet if allowed.  She brings Lily her toys and toothbrush and juice and whatever else she knows is Lily's, driving Lily absolutely batty.   It will certainly be interesting, and I hope I am still using the word 'interesting' to describe this, to watch them grow and develop into friends.  Enemies.  Frenemies.  Sisters.

(c)  Copyright 2010.  City Mom in the Jungle.

Barbados Staycation

 Didier's two week vacation has come to an end and my feelings are all over the place.  These two weeks were meant to be spent showing his parents the island and allowing them time to be with the girls after not seeing them for about 2 years.  With the pregnancy and the relocation, and now a very difficult journey from Barbados to Le Pouliguen in Bretagne, we have not been able to see them as often as we'd like.  We'd managed a once a year visit at Christmas time for a while, but Didier's job now demands that he stay on the island to cater to the tourists who flood the island at that time.  That, is another entry all together. 

Didier's father, who is 80 years old, had an emergency gall bladder surgery a few months back and as they began to operate, discovered that he also had a very slow and shallow heartbeat, so a pacemaker was inserted to regulate his heartbeat.  Happy to report that he is improving daily and should soon be in relative good health for an eighty year old man who likes foie gras and Bearnaise sauce.  But the extreme heat and stress of travel prevented their visit and we were left with two weeks on island without our scheduled guests.  If Lily had not just been enrolled in school, we would have left immediately for anywhere-but-here.  Instead we planned for our staycation and hoped to spend time on the beaches, lunching at new spots, and trying to build relaxation into our daily program.

We were not off to a good start when Didier came down with dengue fever, followed by the girls hacking their lungs onto the floor with the first school cold of the year.  We had cleaning lady visits, landscaping teams to wait for, who never showed (no surprise there), and our usual household chores and tasks.  I don't think a staycation can really happen if you are still at your house.  Well, unless you abandon all responsibility and let your house go to pot.  There were afternoons in the pool and morning walks in Bridgetown after school drop off, but mostly, we just did what we always do, only with less urgency as we had time. 

Beautiful beaches aside, there is not much to do in Barbados if you live here, unless heading up to the Animal Flower Cave, checking out the waves on the east coast, shopping at Sheraton Mall turns you on all the time.  Choices are limited.  Throw in a toddling 17 month old who needs a nap in the middle of the day and time is severely limited.  I was happy to have Didier home, being with him is always more fun than being alone for long stretches, but my routine was also compromised.  With Didier at home, I wrote less, didn't exercise at all, and ate more.  Nice. 

Besides touring Bridgetown, we hit the Brighton Farmers' Market one Saturday morning with our friends Wendy and Chris and their little girls and found, not only fresh fruits and veggies, spices and seasonings, pies and quiches, but loads of ex-pats sitting around at tables having a chat about life in Barbados and a play area for the kiddies to go wild.  Didn't see too many locals, certainly not buying anything, as I have been told the locals know how to find the source, ie the farms, where the produce comes from and avoid special pricing reserved for the "visitors."  The market is still small compared to the Union Square Markets on Wednesdays and Saturdays in Manhattan, but the social aspect and feelings of good will were still there.  We had a good time and were happy to do something new. 

With some friends visiting from New York, we hit Accra/Rockley Beach, a family favorite, for one of Didier's only beach days.  Even though we were not there too long, everyone left happy and tan, if a little salty and sand-flecked.  We ate Chinese food for lunch, which we'd dared not do before and probably won't do again.  I'd forgotten how much MSG does not agree with me.  A thank you to the maker of Tums.

This past Saturday, Lily's school hosted its annual fundraiser, the St. Gabriel's Fair with the theme, Under the Sea.  There were mermaids, crabs, divers, all sorts of fish and coral reefs decorating the campus and rides, food, games, prizes, balloons.  This is apparently the biggest fair in Barbados, so add to that list, chaos.  We arrived early enough to explore without crowds, but with a heat that could hobble a camel.  But once the crowds came, it was every man for himself.  Heat, loud music, long queues twisting through the field, and a sea of people in all directions.  On arrival, we had Lily play all the games and get on all the rides so we could get them out of the way before the throngs of people arrived.  To have her face painted, we'd pre-paid to have Lily "fast-tracked" so as not to have to wait on line.  She was, surprise, a princess.  (More an Indian goddess to me, complete with a gorgeous purple bindi and pink lipstick, but whatever.)

In the middle of this staycay, Didier celebrated a birthday with little fanfare.  We rarely go crazy over birthdays for ourselves, this coming from the woman who had a 40th birthday party like some people celebrate their wedding.  It's usually a casual affair.  But yesterday, we'd booked a table at Mullins Restaurant with two of our favorite families here and ate and celebrated together.  After lunch, a song for Didier, and a quick dessert, we all retired to the beach for a late afternoon swim and castle-building.  Everyone was happy and I said to my love that while I didn't pick this place, and probably wouldn't have, that this day and this moment were among some of the best in our lives together.  Our staycation in Barbados ended with what everyone back home thinks we experience every day--sun, sea, sand, smiles, and love.  On this day it was true.

(c) Copyright 2010.   City Mom in the Jungle.