Tropical Storm Tomas Arrives (I)

At the end of hurricane season, a small tropic depression with a 10-20% chance of becoming a Tropical Storm developed east of Barbados.  By Friday afternoon, hours before it struck as a tropical storm, Tomas, tearing roofs off, throwing lawn chairs about, and ripping seemingly well rooted trees from the ground and onto the power lines, it had jumped to 100% chance.  I stood with my friends at Zaccio's Pizza as I do on Friday afternoons and chatted casually about how serious the storm might actually be.  When I left, my friend Karl and I stopped into the SuperCentre to buy a few staples, just in case.  We have a hurricane/emergency supply already at home, also just in case, but I bought balloons and chips and water and yogurt.  You know, the essentials. 


When I arrived home on Friday evening, a little boozy and a lot tired, my landlady called to tell me she thought we should take in the patio furniture and shutter the house.  We would indeed get hit by the storm some time around 2 am and we should be cautious and prepared.  Didier walked in the house after a bullshit day on the job to my insisting he start taking in the furniture while I fed and prepped the girlies for bed.  It was, of course, already raining, soon to be pouring while furniture was brought in, some into our house, some into the guest house, some into a storage house on the property called the chattel house.  After the tables, chairs, and loungers, along with tricycles, big wheels, and other riding toys were brought in, the windows and glass doors were shuttered and strapped shut with wooden beams.  I took out candles, flashlights, made a little emergency escape pack and we went to bed.


When Virginie woke at 3 am and couldn't be satisfied with singing and nudges to take juice rather than nurse, I walked her to her father in our room and returned to the girls' room so that Lily would not be frightened if she woke up to a storm.  About one hour later, we heard a Phhhmffff! like an pump gun and the power went out.  It was pitch dark in the house.  You couldn't see your hand in front of you.  I felt the presence of something moving about and then saw a small light flickering.  It was Didier with the flashlight walking through the house.  He has heard the sound of the pump gun or whatever that was as well and has gotten up to take a look.  With all the windows shuttered and it being completely black around us, we never did figure out what the sound was.  The darkness was all encompassing and the rattling shutters made it sound like we would soon take off to Oz.  I moved Lily from her bed to the guest bedroom with me, just in case the Aki tree next to the girls' room should fall.  I mean, it really did sound like that was a possibility.  Didier returned to our room with Virginie and they went back to sleep for about 2 more hours.

In the light of the day we could see that the pump/air gun sound we'd heard was the palm tree next to the pool breaking off and falling in.  There was a palm tree sitting like a dunked tea bag in our pool.  There was so much wind and rain.  Looking out one of the uncovered windows in a bathroom, Didier watched two trees just snap on top and break behind the guesthouse.  Hours later, as the monkeys came through to check out their old haunts, they found two of their favorite trees down. They moved on and I have not since seen them in the garden. 

Trees are down everywhere.  The lime tree in the front of the house is ripped out of the ground.  One of the palms is hanging over the front wall.  There are palm fronds all over the streets and a huge tree has crashed across our street preventing movement in or out. 

Our neighbor paid some guys about $50-100 to remove the tree so he, and subsequently we, could get out.  They took to it with machetes and saws.  We could hear the sound of sawing into the afternoon as they tackled another tree crossing the main access road as well.

I took an old phone that I'd allowed the girls to use as a play phone and plugged it in so we could at least make phone calls.  The phone line was still accessible, unlike our power.  The Blackberry too, given Didier for work, was still functioning.  There was flooding, in some places knee deep on our street and we were locked in.  We eventually opened the shutters when we saw the storm had passed but we had no power for the rest of the day and night.  The girls ate a little ice cream and the rest was tossed.  We figured we had about 24 hours on our freezer, as the fridge is less than 6 months old.  The balloons turned out to be a hit as we blew up about 6 of them and bandied them about the house for fun. Bedtime came early, as it was so dark and we were all exhausted.  Didier and I didn't sleep as there was thunder and lightening all night long. 

I am just not sure I am prepared for this.  Emotionally.

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

High Anxiety

The two month renovation of the hotel where Didier works is over and with it, my semi-sense of calm.  For his family, this job sucks.  We see so little of him; he is exhausted and frustrated when he is able to be with us, and all of the tasks of the household and child-rearing, save driving, will fall back entirely on me.  Not that I wasn't already topping off at "responsible for everything," but I could at least spend a little time with my husband of just under two years and enjoy his company while doing the dishes or checking in on the girls, folding laundry.  You get the picture.

Last night in bed I found myself gasping for breath.  I was truly struggling to breathe and started to panic.  I sat up and tried to meditate to calm myself, unsure of what exactly this could be.  Was I developing asthma after a year of breathing pollutants on the island?  Didn't seem likely, though how some of these vehicles pass any emissions test or are deemed road-worthy is beyond me.  I had exercised the other day and had no such difficulty.  Could I have some sort of bronchial infection or irritation that constricted my lungs?  I didn't wheeze or breathe heavily at all during the humid afternoons and the air conditioning was on at some modest temperature.  Sitting up peering into the night, listening to Didier start the snorchestra, I felt the panic.  I was having a freak out, a panic attack.

We are both under extreme amounts of stress and are unable to really help each other.  The day to day of taking care of these children, listening to them, caring for them, feeding and clothing them, making sure assignments are done, papers are signed, doctors are visited, all the good stuff moms talk about and get the mute button pressed because even listening to the list is overwhelming, is just exhausting.  When I add the cooking and the cleaning and the laundering and the entertaining, by the time they go to sleep at 7:15, I don't have any energy left.  I am depleted and still see tasks before me.  I miss my friends and more than I realized, I miss the insane circus that is my culture. 

Let the Bajans have their craziness.  Sometimes I want my E! True Hollywood Story, True Blood, Sopranos, non-stop coverage of whatever, Cosby reruns, Will and Grace, and commercials, commercials, commercials.  Our satellite picks up programming from Venezuela, Puerto Rico, and other Spanish-speaking countries, so not only do we miss much of the programming from the US, when we do get it, it is either subtitled or, my personal favorite, dubbed in Spanish.  Sitting down for a zone out, if that were possible, would involve an assault of advertising and promotion that my three semesters of Spanish just didn't well prepare me for. 

I'd hoped to address this with Didier at the end of the week, talk with him for the 10,000th time about helping me a little and giving him the "being a stay at home mother is one of the toughest jobs in the world" lecture/monologue/speech, when he blurted out in the car ride to Lily's school, "This is killing me.  It's not going to change.  I could one day tell you that this is it and we would have to go."  I was astonished and looked at him like I had never seen him before or at least not as clearly as I was seeing him in that moment.    He was tired and hurt and clearly spent.

For two months, he'd dealt only with upper management, no staff.  He'd had positive conversations with his new General Manager about moving forward, making new things happen, starting fresh and on the eve of the full staff's arrival, he'd just crashed and burned.  The workforce here in Barbados is less than desirable and I am surely not the first to say it.  Coddling and too much support by government has made too many detached, unfocused, unconcerned, and disloyal to any company or organization.  These feelings take the form of rampant high absenteeism, sick days that go on for months for illnesses that in another country wouldn't even get a blink, and slow, slow, slow service and execution of job tasks.  Of course I understand the old colonial wounds that leaves a local population disinterested in the success of what it sees as an oppressive outside force (foreign companies and expatriates) taking advantage of the small guy(themselves), but with family from the southern United States and deep rooted understanding of the torment of colonialism and slave culture and mentality, I think a time has to come when you work with self respect, set your own goals, and try to achieve for yourself and your family.  Didier is not seen as the enemy per se, but there is no reason to have loyalty to his company and therefore, no loyalty to the kitchen, its chef, or fellow employees.

The company, a major multinational, still expects that standard offered at any of its other hotels, and rightfully so.  Didier is meant to provide that.  But I wonder if any chef, any captain of any industry, could achieve all he or she is capable of without a team of strong players.  I wonder how it would affect their souls, their sense of themselves if the product, no matter who they had working for them, still had their names attached to it.

I am angry, pissed actually, and there is no one to really be upset with.  So we find ourselves here again.  Both working for the goal of a strong family unit, but doing so independently of one another.  We have a five year plan  We have set goals for our family and for ourselves and have gone without some of the luxuries that might ease the burden a bit in order to save for that future.  It is certainly worth it, but for this or because of this, we both are suffering from high anxiety.

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

The death of Prime Minister David Thompson

While we didn't notice immediately that many were in a somber mood at this Saturday's Brighton Farmers' Market, we were told rather quickly and quietly that the Prime Minister of Barbados, the Honourable David Thompson, aged 48, had succumbed to pancreatic cancer and died early Sunday morning.  We are not citizens, so we did not vote for him, but his presence had been everywhere.  Many on the island felt like they knew him and many very well did.  He was a people's Prime Minister though his government struggled to make effective policy and I dare say he was beloved.

He will be buried in a state funeral on Wednesday, November 3rd at the Kensington Oval, a cricket stadium and the day has been declared a national day of mourning.  Either soft rock or religious music plays on the radio on all stations and government offices, schools, and stores will close during the funeral and some for the entire day.  I am just heartbroken that his wife and three children are left without the husband and father they loved.  He was the same age as my honeybun.  Love your people.  Tell them you do.


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

Midterm Break, Day 5 Part 2 Happy Hour

As we often do on Friday afternoons into evenings, the family packed up in the car and went to Zaccio's for Happy Hour.  The girls get the chance to coat themselves like sugar donuts in sand and seawater and the parents have as many cocktails, beers, or glasses of wine as they can before time is up.  Tonight we went to celebrate our friend Chris's birthday and a huge group of us, 15 in all, with what seemed like 100 children with all that chatter and glass clinking and running around, sat down for dinner.  We had a truly great time until Virginie ate her hot dog and French fries and got energized like we'd never seen before.  She ran all over that restaurant and back to me and all over and back to me.  She didn't make too much noise, no violent outbursts or screams, but I was not able to sit down to eat or drink or share adult conversations. 

I was never one of those people who got angry with people who brought their children out to eat in family style restaurants.  The truth is, they will never learn if you don't show them how and family or casual style restaurants are the right place to do so.  After all my years at the front podium in upscale restaurants in Manhattan as maitre d', however, I will tell you that those places, no matter how early in the evening, are just not appropriate.  I love kids.  I respect that people want to eat good food, have a certain experience.  I support that.  Get a sitter.  I don't think Didier ever thought he would be eating at places like Zaccio's or even considering a TGIFridays on the island, but it works for the wees and any place with French fries, plastic cups, and lots of paper napkins works for us.

We have been blessed to find this group of people whom we genuinely like to spend time with and who have children the same age as Lily and/or close in age to Virginie.  I suppose having to relocate to Barbados without children would be nightmarish unless you mean to party all the time or surf or sit on the beach.  Now while I imagine that many people think that's what they want to do, try it 365 days a year.  Everything in moderation.  We have made more friends through relationships the girls have formed that we could have on our own and I am so grateful.  Thank you, little darlings and Happy Birthday, Chris.


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

Midterm break, Day 5, part 1 Toddler Tunes

The dreaded morning arrived and after quite a bit of stressing and a little sleep lost, I greeting the ladies and their tots at 10 am and welcomed them to a musical paradise.  I'd set a mat on the floor in case of falls, put instruments passed on from previous Toddler Tunes and even provided some of my own, and reviewed the songbook.  Yes, there is a songbook and I might add, it is quite extensive in the field of baby songs and call and response tunes.  Coffee, juice, and water were put out to refresh dry throats and Cheerios, grapes, brownies, coconut cakes, jello candies, animal crackers and baby carrots were put out as snacks.  The blue, green, and white under-the-sea theme was used for the plates and napkins, though I think that was lost on everyone but me.

As everyone introduced themselves and the kids wandered about checking out instruments and each other, I prepped my notes for the "Welcome Song."  Natasha, who is in charge of the Toddler Tunes roster, helped immensely as I could not figure out the tune to this song and we got right into it.  I kept making jokes about this not being American Idol and for all to drop their fears and sing for the kiddies!  (That was really for me.)  Kids really love it when you sing to them even if you can't carry a tune.  I know this, but it still makes me shy to just burst into song.  I suppose I will never be on Glee. 

All the mommies were enthusiastic and I think the kiddies had a really enjoyable time.  It was nice to get Virginie together with children closer in age to her than Lily and her playmates, although she seemed to ignore most of them and marched to her own beat.  That's no shocker.  She is only 18 months old...and she's my child.  Marching to her own beat.

By noon, everyone was leaving and I felt happy and relieved that the morning was such a success.  Lots of extra coffee in the pot, so iced coffee for me for the week.  Nap time didn't come quickly, but when it did, that little person slept like a stone.  3 hours.  Alas, after clean up, Lily arrived home excited and thrilled about her beautiful artwork done at Art Splash and there was no chance for a Mommy nap.  I will sleep when I am dead.



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

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.