Blending Traditions Overseas Part 1 - Halloween!

If you've ever met me personally, if we're friends on social media - HELL, if you've ever strolled past our home in New Jersey during the month of October, you know ONE thing. 

We friekin' LOVE Halloween!!! 

Not because I'm some thrill-seeker or horror junkie.  Actually, I'm frightened stiff of scary movies and spend more time with my face in my knees than actually watching.  In general, I hate being scared and since my husband is aware of this, he makes it his mission to jump out and scare the skeleton out of me on a regular basis!  My kids are now starting to catch on too... 

But STILL, Halloween is my favorite.  That crisp chill in the air, the rustling of freshly fallen leaves at your feet and the smell of a crackling outdoor fire nearby.  One of our first dates was carving pumpkins and...yes, going to a Halloween party (we went as Little Red Riding Hood and her furry counterpart). 

I once threw Tony a surprise Halloween costume party.  Even though his birthday is in mid November. 

We've dressed up along with our children every year since the oldest was old enough to. 
Hey, gotta do it for the kids right?!

Annnnd...I can't seem to buy enough decorations.  I splurged on a seven-foot tall black Halloween tree a few years ago!  I mean...the obsession is real.

So naturally, when our family decided to relocate our life to Barcelona one year ago, "Halloween in Spain" was one of my very first Google searches (before even researching schools for my kids, I'll shamefully admit ha!)  And to my bewilderment, the city that never sleeps where there is always a buzz and a fiesta....didn't quite embrace the spookiest night of the year.

Really!?  My heart sank.  BUT it was Spain...not America - and accepting new cultural celebrations is what being an expat is all about. It seemed Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead or All Saints' Day) is the more popular.

Still, I was determined to keep alive the family traditions of our favorite holiday.  And maybe even welcome some new ones in the process.  I had a lot to learn.

Our first Halloween in Barcelona was only two months after arriving here.  So naturally, our heads were spinning.  I was still trying to figure out where to find non-IKEA furniture and dryer sheets, let alone locate costumes, trick or treating events and pumpkins!   We settled on pale orange flat gourds, last minute over-priced costume purchases and threw together a small class party with some friends at a nearby playground. 

Was it the American Halloween we were so accustomed to?  Course not!  But it served its purpose, the kids were happy.....and next year would be different, I hoped!

Now that we've had an entire year to scope out, explore and research our new city it's amazing to see that this American this holiday is slowwwwwly growing in Spanish popularity! 

The first signs of Halloween were paper banners and white cob webs hanging from several bakeries.  A nearby gourmet chocolate shop decked out their window display in orange and black.  I got giddy with excitement the minute I spotted these first signs of the season! 

One afternoon, while playing at Parc de l'Oreneta, we overheard the Michael Jackson Thriller song coming from the woods?!  And soon stumbled upon a haunted train ride where miniature steam engine trains were offering spooky rides to families.  What a nice surprise this was! 

Then we learned about a theme park just outside the city that was rumored to do Halloween BIG! We gathered costumes and quickly committed to a family overnight trip. I thought to myself, "Well, I'm sure they'll have some pumpkin decorations." 

To our complete surprise, this place was Halloween on STEROIDS!!!!!  It blew my mind  - the decorations, music, costumes, face painting, shows, theatrics, horror.  My senses were in overdrive and that familiar feeling I remember from Halloween at home came flooding back. 

To top our favorite holiday off, a friend at school passed a flyer along to me (knowing all too well about my Halloween hysteria) with trick or treating at a nearby park.  I figured, "Oh cute - probably four or five nearby stores will be giving out little candies."  Once again, I underestimated this incredible city's ability to embrace an American tradition.

The event easily drew in 600 children and their families!  Streets swarmed with excited costume-clad trick or treaters.  Store merchants donned their doorways dressed in disguise handing out goodies.  This night was the "candycorn on the cake", so to speak! 

It all gave me such a rewarding feeling....to know that our lives in a foreign city, as much as they have changed, can still enjoy the same beloved joys of a holiday from home.

But as I said earlier, this is SPAIN!  It all its grandiose beauty and rich culture, what would our lives be like here if we didn't learn about and love local traditions? 

For one, many of the Halloween costumes we saw this year resembled Dia de Los Muertos - with the most beautiful, intricate face makeup and flowered costumes I've ever seen! This is a celebration on November 1 in Spain, South America and Mexico when the dead are honored.  Families visit the grave sights of their loved ones and leave flowers. 

We took some time that day to explain its importance to the kids and remembered those whom we've lost in recent years.  We told stories about the children's sweet Great-Grammy and my parents' beloved Beagle (yes this includes pets too!)

And with ANY holiday, comes special foods!  We have simply fallen in love with the scents of roasted castanyas (chestnuts) and sweet potatoes prepared by corner street vendors.

Now on an Autumn morning in Barca, my husband can be found standing at the oven carefully roasting castanyas to nibble on with his coffee.

Sugary panellets paired with sweet Moscato wine is a delicacy prepared only this time of year with marzipan, cinnamon, potato and pine nuts.  When my children came home from school with freshly prepared panellets from cooking class, I could barely steal a bite before they disappeared!

And so, the Autumn season of Spain is upon us.  I like to think our American family dominated Halloween this year, so much so that I have a bit of a Halloween hangover!

I trust in years ahead, when our life in Barelona is only a chapter of memories, Tony and I will sit down over a plate of hot castanayas and reflect on these special times....blending the old with the new. 

The Art of Parenting - European Style!

Life abroad really does give you an entirely new perspective into the world - especially European life being more liberal in nature than American life - which at times can seem overrun with rules, red tape and regulation!

When we made the decision to move to Barcelona with our young children, we dreamed about the new adventures they would have and broader perspective they would gain into the world around them!

Certain experiences were a guarantee.  We knew they would try different foods such as tapas, salted cod, pimientos padron, bocadillos and paella.  We felt certain they would establish close relationships with children from other parts of the globe.  We expected that they would be exposed to not only the Spanish language but also Catalan, Chinese, Italian, French and others.  

And yes, they've experienced these things plus many more, which has only helped to reaffirm our decision to relocate.  

However....(and I say that with a giggle) there have also been some rather....surprising and unexpected experiences for the children that Tony and I were NOT prepared for.  Things that locals here don't blink an eye to, just another day in the life of a major European city.

Here we go, starting with the most obvious and uncomfortable of them all!  Let's just get this one out of the way, shall we?

1. Topless Beaches

Sure, its Europe.  Yea, there are "those" kinds of beaches.  But what we didn't realize is that ALL beaches here in Spain allow women to bear "nada" from the waist up. And bear it they DO!  Our first experience with this awkward situation (and I call it awkward mainly because where WE come from, this is practically unheard of and in most places illegal!) was during a family day trip to the nearby beach town of Sitges, Spain.

As we walked through the old walled village towards the seashore, shops began opening their doors and restaurants started setting up tables and chairs.  It felt like the perfect summer day for us.  We made our way onto the sandy beach looking like the typical American family - fully equipped with inflatable toys, flip flops, sun hats, umbrella, etc.  And although we were the ones that stuck out like sore thumbs, something rather obvious stuck out to us - in every direction, women were topless!  To our left was someone definitely old enough to be a great-grandmother (yikes).  To our right a group of friends having a fun and quite "free" afternoon at the beach.  Jeeze!  I felt like marching over to them and saying, "Umm really people? Can you cover up puh-leeze?! We have young kids with us!"

Can't say my husband shared the same sentiment (cue eye roll).

So instead, I secretly prayed that my kids wouldn't notice.  And to be honest, for the first hour they were more consumed with sand castles and salt water.  But eventually my four-year old asked (at a rather embarrassingly loud volume as she does), "Mommy why do those ladies have no bathing suit tops? That is so silly!"

At a time in American society when respect for and protection of a woman's body is an ultra-sensitive topic, I was worried this could give my little girl the wrong idea.  I smiled at her and decided to make light of it, responding with the first thing that came to me - "Well love, some people believe it is okay to uncover that part....but we believe the best thing to do is to cover up, ok?" She thought about it, seemed satisfied and I was thankful.

My messaging might need to be a little more firm whenever my seven year old son starts to ask. At this point, he hasn't yet!  We may be in for more "December beach days" than expected...!

I literally had to crop "certain" people out of this photo!!

2. Protests or Parades?!

This one has been a little tricky.  Since we made our move to Barcelona, the civil unrest of the Catalonia Referendum had reared its ugly head.  We've never experienced a Barcelona without divide, but unfortunately coming from America where people are divided on just about everything including the color of the blue sky, Tony and I weren't phased much.  The kids, however, questioned why strikes were happening, protesters marched and people were heard chanting at any given time.

At first, we took the easy way out telling them it was a parade - kind of like Memorial Day in America!  Yea, I felt guilty about that but we hadn't quite figured out a way to tell their innocent little minds that an entire part of the country wanted separation - and they weren't happy about not getting their way.

Then one Sunday after a lovely family day at the zoo, we got caught!  I mean, really stuck - in the middle of a MAJOR march happening two blocks from our home.  Streets were closed.  Thousands of people (women, men and yes tonnns of happy kids) took to the streets, always in a peaceful way, to make their voices heard.  They all wore yellow t-shirts stating "Si, Libertat!", donned Catalan flags and chanted harmoniously something that we couldn't understand.

As we pushed through the crowd, the kids fired off questions - why, what, when, who?! And so began our chat about freedom of speech and expression.  This all felt a tad unnecessary!  I mean, my oldest was SIX!   But Barcelona is now our home and as long as we lived here, the "parades" would be happening.

So the explanation went something like this...
"People are waving their flags and cheering for Barcelona. They are SO proud of Barcelona that they want to become their own country - with their own flag, own money, own rules.  Some people in Spain are sad and don't want them to leave.  There is some arguing going on - but just like when you kids have an argument over a toy, these people will find a solution soon."

I pray we are still here to see that through...

3. Economics 101

We've all seen them.  Every city has em.  And here, they're the WORST.  You know, street hagglers.  Men selling knock-off Louies, Ray-Ban sunglasses and "authentic" Spanish trinkets.  But actually those guys aren't too bad and I'd be lying if I didn't admit to giving them my business a time or two!  It's the God awful BALLOON LADIES that kill us.

Here's their savvy business tactic.  They're usually found in Gothic Quarter where tons of tourists stroll. They dress up in some sort of costume resembling a clown (I think?) and shove adorable balloon animals into the hands of children walking by with their parents.  How sweet, right?!  Oh but DON'T be fooled!

The very second that child shrieks with delight and reaches out to grab such balloon animal (which they most certainly WILL do), the haggling begins.  They want money.  And no, not coins! I mean, how much can one damn balloon cost?  We felt ultra-generous giving a one euro coin to this ridiculous scam artist, but she wanted more.  And more was what she insisted on.  Ugh, it ended with us having to literally storm away from this woman shouting "no mas!" (no more!) and our three cherubs looking heart-broken.

"Why would mommy and daddy yell at that nice clown?" I could hear their thoughts in my head...

I call this one "Economics 101" since the chat that followed our hilarious incident actually led to a great explanation about money, business, its value, how it can be earned and why some people choose sneaky (although I have to admit - somewhat cleaver) ways to earn it. 

Sooo...did this convo keep my kids from grabbing the friendly little inflatable puppy? Course not!

She looks sweet and innocent, doesn't she?!

4. Marijuana...At Any Given Time!

There are so many beautiful fragrances that fill the air here in Barcelona - bakeries selling fresh bread, flower shops filled with exotic arrangements, cafes brewing their finest frothy cappuccino. But one smell in particular left the children a bit...puzzled?!  Care to guess which one?  Some call it herb, others weed - joint, cannabis, pot, grass.  Never before has a friendly little plant adopted so many names!  Well regardless of how it's referred to, it's here and people enjoy it - anywhere, anytime, no questions asked.  No, it's not totally legal...but as one friend explained to me, "It's not totally illegal either" - whatever that means ha!

There are some experiences here worth explaining to the kids.  This wasn't one of them.  So I put on my "mama fiction" hat and told the kids it was roasted peanuts.  Yes, they believed it!  Except now if we catch a whiff somewhere, the children ask where the man selling roasted peanuts is (palm to face).

Moving on...

Looks pretty legal to me!

5. Poverty 

Our children's first exposure to this way of life was here.  Around the corner from our apartment is a woman that sleeps outside the bank.  We've seen her dozens of times.  She bothers no one and the police don't bother her.  Each day she hopes for some spare change to be thrown into her wrinkled paper cup.  There are countless examples here that our children quickly began to question.

"Mommy, why is that man sitting on the ground with no shoes? Why does he look sad? Where are his parents?  What does his sign mean 'Tengo hambre'?" (I have hunger) These were just some of the concerns from my middle daughter, Autumn.  Some of which I really had no answer to.  While rushing around each day completing my mindless tasks, I've brushed past the homeless as if their presence is almost expected in the overall canvas of our city.  But the concern the kids have shown and their desire to somehow help has forced me to slow down and think.

Maybe we buy an extra muffin at the bakery one morning. Or perhaps a few bottles of water in the summer.  Sometimes these folks have dogs sitting alongside them, so we may throw down some leftovers.  Perhaps it's a second hand coat that we no longer wear.  And other days, it's spare change.  I'm NOT looking for recognition or a pat on the head here at all - to be honest, the toughest part was explaining to them why we simply can't help every. single. person.

But the expression on the kids' faces when we do hand each one a few coins is priceless.  In their own little way, they feel they are making a difference.   And wouldn't you know.....their effort is always always received with a head nod and a smile back.

I like to think in that microscopic moment of time, a difference was made.

6. The Revolving Door

When you're an expat, living in a foreign country for only a short period of time, your children will most likely attend an international school. The good news is, the majority of the other children in also come from expat families.

The downside?  Families move away.  Often.  It's a bit of a revolving door...

The other morning, while we were on our way to school my son asked, "Mommy, when can we do a play date with Louie again?"  Louie was a sweet little boy we met on the bus.  He attended the French School nearby.  The boys hit it off immediately sharing the same interests and exchanging toys on the morning ride.  My heart sank a little and I explained to Anthony that Louie had moved back to France over the summer.  He looked sad and asked if we would ever see him again.

"Sure hunnie, we can!" I answered.  But in my heart, I knew we probably wouldn't.

My children are not used to this. In the U.S., they attended a small Christian preschool in our home town.  Friendships were made and kept.  Luckily my son enjoys playing with lots of different children and gets less attached.  My daughter, however, does.  When Autumn finds a best friend, that friend becomes her whole world.

And unfortunately, that best friend also moved away this summer.  Back home to Athens, Greece.  The girls were inseparable, loved playing together, being silly and laughing.  I'm not sure who was more upset about them leaving - my daughter or ME!  I hated seeing the girls say goodbye, fearing that Autumn wouldn't find a special buddy the following school year.

But as the girls squeezed each other tight one last time, Autumn said quietly to her friend, "No matter where you go, you will always have a best friend in Barcelona."

(Yes, this made me cry.)  

"PLUS, we can always Facetime!!" she exclaimed.  (Yes, this made me crack up!)  I felt relieved that she had found a way to look at the bright side and was truly excited about it!  She often asks me when we will take a cruise to Greece so the girls can have a play date.  I just love her heart!

The kids now have a good understanding of how this whole expat thing works. And as friends come and go, they are learning to make the most out of the time spent with each one.

The unknown, the unexpected and the sometimes shocking are really what make this whole adventure so worth it.  And doing it with kids keeps us on the tips of our toes, I'll tell ya!  We never know what we'll find around the corner on any given day.....but in many ways, this is what keeps us coming back for more...

The Truth About Three

On an afternoon in early November, my husband and I stood face to face slightly shivering from both nerves and from the autumn chill in the air. Friends and family joined us, but for that moment it seemed Tony and I were the only ones there.  Bright-eyed and giddy, a few less wrinkles back then for me, a bit more hair for him.

As we read our vows to one another, our promises for what life together would look like, there were tears through smiles. I read aloud my dreams of starting a family together..... putting an extra emphasis on having "many children".....and received a rather loud giggle from the crowd.  Hmm...

Tony and I turned and laughed along with them as a gracious bride and groom would....but we didn't entirely grasp WHY.  What was so funny about a full house?  What did our audience of friends and family know about having children that we didn't anyway!?  I mean, we had cats.  They seemed to be doing great!  They haven't said otherwise.  Feed em, change em, stroll em - and repeat until the age of 18.

I mean, right? 

Well, (insert smirk) almost ten years later, "many children" turned into a mere three!  Somewhere in between our first child climbing and our second crawling, we knew three was our number.  Someone once said that three is the perfect hug - a kid for each arm and one squeezed right in the middle.

When we found out our third was on the way we were over the moon, but as my belly grew so did my anxiety.  We would officially be outnumbered by our offspring - and that scared the hell out of me!  Would we have enough love and attention to go around?  Would we be able to financially support three hungry mouths?  Would one always be left out - that whole "three's a crowd" thing?  How would having a third change the dynamic of our happy little foursome? 

I could feel myself getting carried away with worry.  So, what did I do to console my mind?!  I went against my better judgement and GOOGLED it.  Uff!  Classic moron moment that I know ALL moms can admit to at one point or another.  Stories from other parents with three (or more!) kids of money woes, exhaustion, constant clean-ups, endless laundry, dilemmas of an uneven family size such as sitting in a restaurant booth, choosing the right vehicle or sleeping in a hotel room!

And although my highly credible scientific research (haha!) produced a mental picture of chaos rather than family bliss, one mother wrote something that put my heart at ease ever so slightly.  She said the third child "completed" their family.  Completed.  I didn't totally understand what that meant at the time, but it sounded...comforting?  I felt strangely thankful to this complete stranger.

And then London Olivia was born.  As soon as I held her in my arms, I found out exactly just what that mother meant.  It's not a tangible thing, like when you place the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle in its place.  But rather a satisfying feeling of wholeness. 

The days ahead were of course filled with exhaustion, clean-ups and other things my mind tormented me about - but our family felt full, final and yes...complete.  This was our family, our dream.  We had all we needed in the world at that very moment. 

And then our world took an unexpected turn...

When London was just nine months old, my husband was offered a job opportunity overseas in Barcelona - and we said YES.  Never had I imagined selling our home, packing up our treasures and saying goodbye to everything familiar in exchange for an entirely new life - with our three babies! 

And amazingly through this journey, this time of incredible change and transition for us, I've experienced the joy of our third child in a way I never knew was possible. The world identifies moms as strong, supportive, unwavering and fierce - but as we experienced the ups and downs of life abroad, it seemed I needed London just as much as she needed me.

Sounds nuts doesn't it? 

On days when we got stuck waiting for the bus in an unexpected rain storm (without umbrellas), there was London clapping her wet hands and shrieking with laughter.

During moments when my frustration trying to navigate a new city would skyrocket, London was busy in her stroller throwing cookie crumbs to a flock of hungry pigeons.

One day, I took a rather bad spill off the bus with London asleep. We both went tumbling...got a few bruises.  Locals insisted we call my husband and take a trip to the nearby hospital.  I'll spare the details, as the experience shook me up a bit, but London was right next to me squeezing on tight moments after it happened.

When my two older children have had one squabble too many, London is there to offer a simple and quiet game of blocks or books.  She is the first person they look for when I pick them up at school.  She is the one they held hands with on that nervous, scary first day as new students.

When she took her first steps down the hallway of our Barcelona apartment, she had the rest of us cheering right along - and it felt like a family victory for us all.  My two older children have become more nurturing and gentle as they experience life with a baby sister. 

And on days when I find myself missing home, thinking of our familiar suburban life back in the states, my baby girl is there - bouncy blonde curls and all - to offer a snuggle and a smooch.  She's been there when I needed her most - and she never even knew it.  I often get asked why London is not attending school yet here in Spain.  The answer is simple, "She's not quite ready yet," which really translates to, "I'm not quite ready yet."

Some afternoons when it's just her and I at home, we run around the apartment laughing and chasing one another.  We sing and dance.  She is my happy place.  She is my little friend.  In those moments, I find myself kneeling down, gazing into her sparkly hazel eyes and whispering, "Please don't ever get big, ok?" 

But I know, as all moms do, getting big will come.

It already has.

Every day is an adventure, sometimes a struggle, usually hilarious, occasionally painful and ALWAYS humbling. Some nights, I lay in bed with satisfaction and a smile feeling like, "we've done good", and other nights I'm wiping away tears just before drifting to sleep.  Parenting is friekin hard, ya'll!  No matter how many children you have!

But no matter what each journey of motherhood may look like, we are the lucky ones.  It's not easy. Those Goggle parents showed me this early on. I still worry each and every day.  And things still get stressful and hectic - especially with three.  (I MARVEL at moms with four or more!) 

But as I said, three is our number.  And it's amazing!  My life, as an American expat wife here in Spain, has been enriched beyond my expectations - yes because of the beautiful architecture, the culture, the food, the weather. But mostly because of the gift that our third baby has brought. 

London is the link that has completed our family and along the way, she's completed me too.   
 

One Year Later: Lessons I've Learned

"What row are we again, hun?" I asked my husband as we stepped onto the airport tarmac leading us towards a massive United Airlines Boeing 757.  "Uhh, I think Row 19.....seats A through E," my husband responded and chuckled as he checked all five of our boarding passes.  We were in for a long nine-hour flight.  Non-stop service from Newark, New Jersey to Barcelona, Spain.

As we found our seats, shoved carry-ons into overheads and got situated I felt a strange and familiar feeling come over me.  Deja-vu really does exist! Exactly one year ago (down to the minute!) we were boarding the same flight at the same time on the same day.  Except one year ago, it was our very first time as a family moving to our new home in Spain.

As the flight attendant started reciting her usual safety speech, I closed my eyes and laid my head back.  One whole year.  365 days later.  Holiday seasons come and gone, an entire school year now a thing of the past.

Wow.  Each of us a year older...the kids definitely a few inches taller - but were we really any wiser?  Still the same people - football-loving, Starbucks-sipping, stars and stripes waving American family.

But...different at the same time.  Slightly more city-savvy?  I'd say so.  Dare I say, bi-lingual?  Not quite but getting there!  A tad less stressed (thanks to the Spanish influence of course)?  Absolutely! 

As I sat there reflecting, the aircraft pulled away from the gate and began heading towards the runway.  Suddenly my eyes stung with tears.  A lump grew in my throat.  I thought about life and how much ours had changed.  I glanced over at my three children fiddling with their meal trays and buckling seat belts.  They had become awesome little travelers. In just one year they had seen more of the world than Tony or I did in most of our lives!

As our plane sped down the runway and slowly ascended into the air, I glanced out the window.  Got one last glimpse of American soil before it disappeared into the clouds.

It really comes down to the journey, doesn't it?  The past year has brought about laughter, tears, joys and fears.  Adventure, excitement and the unknown. The lessons I personally have learned along the way are ingrained in the canvas of who I am...forever.  I guess picking up, leaving home and living on the other side of the globe will do that to a person. And it certainly did it to our family.

But these lessons aren't just about ME. Or us.  They're for anyone who's ever challenged the norm.  Who's ever done anything outside their comfort zone.  Made a mistake and later laughed hysterically about it. Stretched themselves when there was nothing left to stretch.  Stepped out where there were no more stones to step on. 



1. I've learned the world is your home.
It's true what they say - home is wherever your heart is.  And experiencing this move together as a family has taught us that.  When life happens (and happen it WILL), where you are will matter less than who you are with. Where we least expected it, our family started experiencing milestones and "firsts".  Baby London learned to climb her first flight of stairs in Bellagio, Italy.  She also slept in a bed for the first time on that trip.  Our son Anthony lost his front baby tooth in the Barcelona Airport lounge and began learning to play chess during our camping trip to Tossa de Mar in Catalonia.  Our daughter Autumn, she had her first run-in with the cops in London at Buckingham Palace - proud parents we are! (Yes, a joke guys! - although one officer at the Changing of the Guards ceremony picked Autumn out of a crowd to wear his helmet). the kids also rode their first double-decker bus on that trip to London.  Finally, they saw their first sunset during a trip to Rupit, Spain. 

The point is, we have a tendency to view the world as a scary, unsafe and cold place.  Don't get me wrong, it certainly can be.  But it's also important to realize that as we step out and experience more of the world has to offer, we end up leaving pieces of our story behind - who we are.  The world itself becomes our home.

Let's pray this was her first and LAST time!

Truly an Instagram-worthy sunset! 

2. I learned that I LOVE city living.
My whole life I've always thought of living in a big city.  Just never imagined doing it in a foreign city with a husband and three young children!  God has a real sense of humor doesn't He?! Something about the buzz of traffic late at night that lulls me to sleep.  The clanking sound of dishes and silverware on every street corner as hungry diners enjoy a meal and a toast together.  The neon lights from store fronts and balcony windows beckoning visitors.  In minutes you can transform your surroundings from Gothic quarters downtown to modern glam uptown.  It all gives me such a thrill, an incredible energy.  This city is ALIVE and living in it has awaken a part of me I've always dreamed of.


3. I've learned to trust in my spouse. 
I've always trusted Tony - to buy the right kind of bread at the store, to pay the cell phone bill on time, to mow the lawn if the grass got too high.  But start a new life in another country?! This was the ultimate test of our marriage and my trust for him.  Yes it was a decision we made together, but he was the one with way more professional knowledge and background in this area.  His experience is what reassured me when questions like, "Will our precious family keepsakes end up at the bottom of the ocean in transport?!" It took a lot of letting go on my end and putting complete faith that he would guide us in the right direction during this journey.  The day I married him, he's never led me astray.  And this time around has been no different.  Trust.

My partner in crime and in life...

4. I've learned you are stronger than you think.
Everyday I am pushed and challenged here in a new way.  Sometimes the challenge is brought on by myself, sometimes by the outside.  I strive to make the most out of every day here so that when our time in Barcelona has come to an end, we took everything possible from the experience.  And so, I choose a Spanish menu over an English menu at most restaurants.  I force myself to get comfortable with the subway system, which is much trickier than the buses I've come to rely on.  I choose walking when possible over catching mass transit. Why?  So I don't spend my time in Barcelona on the outside looking in.  The benefits and rewards that come from adopting new norms has been great!  When you push yourself and get over the mental "noise" that holds so many people back, it's amazing the clarity and confidence it brings!


5. I've learned no one is defined by just one thing.
Wife. Mother. Business Owner. Writer. Titles define us - but man, do they limit us too.  When we first moved here, I tried to carbon copy myself.  Be who I always was back home.  I lost my way for a while.  So many things were different here. Then my husband said one day, as he could sense my frustration, "Now is the perfect opportunity to see what else is out there for you, Laur."  He was right.  Of course by definition I was still a wife and a mom.  But what else was I capable of? What else was I interested in, inspired by even?  This blog is a great example of opening my eyes to something I never would have considered had we not taken this crazy adventure.  So I guess you could say I began to redefine myself, but haven't lost any part of who I've always been. 

I love this picture of the dining room at our old house.
Interior design and restoring/painting furniture
were always a passion of mine and haven't been easy to recreate here in Spain.

6. I've learned to never take things for granted.
Reuniting with family and friends, picking right up where we left off, enjoying the familiar foods we miss (like pork roll egg and cheese on an everything bagel, ahhh), dipping our toes in the Atlantic Ocean, and even (may I get sappy for a moment?) seeing our flag with the words "Welcome to the United States of America" written underneath while crossing through U.S. Airport Customs.  It's amazing what you look forward to when returning home.  Familiar smells, sounds, faces - all gentle reminders of where we've been and how far we've come. I'm not sure we valued these same things as much while living there. Things we all take for granted over time.  So saying goodbye to our beloved home, as difficult as it was and continues to be, also gave us an incredible gift.  The gift of appreciation and the comfort in knowing, those things will always be waiting for us.

Anyone from Jersey knows this photo requires no caption!

7. I've learned to take chances and leave no room for regrets.
Tony used to tell me about co-workers who moved their families abroad for his/her job.  I always enjoyed hearing about their story, but never thought that one day we would be writing our own.  My first blog post on The Expat Chronicle talked about our decision to relocate and how many concerns I had - but also the sheer excitement. One minute worried sick, the next day-dreaming of our new life. So many ups and downs, highs and lows on that emotional merry-go-round.  But rather than let the fear drive our decision, I allowed a different underlying thought to. 

Regret.  You know, looking back and wishing we had.  Wondering what we had missed out on.  Resenting our life back home and all the things we loved because we hadn't taken the opportunity to leave it.  The fear of living with regret trumped any others and ultimately gave us the push we needed to take a chance.  We didn't have all the answers.  And we didn't need to.  We simply said yes.  And now rather than thinking, "I wish we had," I smile to myself and realize, "I'm so glad we did." 



And so as we enter a new school season and the second year of our life here, I take with me these lessons.  I'm grateful for all them.  I pray they inspire you to be the flower that pushes through the soil. 

And most of all, I welcome the lessons in our days ahead that have yet to be learned. 

Five American Conveniences We Dearly Miss

We're at the heart of summer here in Barcelona which means twelve straight days of literally NO rain, city-chic farmers tans and bottomless pitchers of fruity sangria.  It also equals sizzling Spanish streets, sleeping with fans blaring and endless hours swimming however possible (open sea, public pool, cool bathtub - whatever it takes!).  And due to the sweltering temps, a mass exodus in the month of August also occurs.  The city practically shuts down with most stores and restaurants locking their doors until early September and many streets eerily quiet.

This is Spain's summer "holiday" month.  Which, for the record, I still have a hard time saying.  The term "holiday" will always mean one thing to me - and it includes a big fat guy wearing a red suit! 

In a few days, our crew will also pack up for summer holiday, taking a nine-hour flight and heading back to the U.S!  So it only makes sense, based on my last post sharing the Five Conveniences We've Fallen in Love With Here to give some love to the conveniences from America we miss so dearly.  

1. Hours of Operation - As someone that lives and breathes for a productive day and crossing items off the good ole to-do list, the famous Spanish siesta can leave one feeling a bit...unfulfilled?  During the week retail stores, restaurants, bakeries, pharmacies, dry cleaners - you name it - will close their doors from 2:00 PM until 5:00 PM.  That's THREE whole hours of productivity - gone!  

Are people really sleeping during this time?  Eh, not so much.  Rather they take these hours to just chill by relaxing, going for a walk, having a coffee with a friend - ANY-thing but....well, working.  

And Sundays?  These are designated as national holidays so everything north of Barcelona's touristy Old City is also closed.  This took some real getting used to as a family who typically spent Sundays perusing the aisles of Home Depot and Target.   

Don't get me wrong, a slower pace of life has been really healthy for us and eliminated a certain degree of stress from the week.  It has forced us, literally, to take a pause from constantly running.

But MAN do I long for the days when a Marshalls, Bed Bath & Beyond, Wegmans and HomeGoods run could be achieved all in one day with time to spare in between. These days, I'm thrilled if I can get to the hardware store to buy light bulbs before they close.  And if I can achieve this, well it's been a fantastic day!

2. U.S. Measurements - Anyone who knows me can attest to one thing.  I am lousy in math! I always say, when God paired my husband and I together He really knew what He was doing.  Tony eats, sleeps, breathes numbers while I am busy still trying to memorize my new Spain telephone number. Match made in heaven ha!  

So as you can imagine, transitioning to the metric system here was painless for him and well...a bit more challenging for me!  Learning the euro currency didn't take too long. "Okay, I can handle this," I remember thinking.  But then came the conversions.  

So. Many. Damn. Conversions. 

Miles to kilometers, Fahrenheit to Celsius, pounds to kilograms, inches to centimeters - and FORGET baking!  I basically just go with my gut in the kitchen and so far...no food poisoning!  #winning  

Sometimes I miss the days of saying, "Wow, today's gonna get all the way up to almost 90 degrees!" without someone looking at me with a big "huh?!" 

3.  Super-Sizes - Okay, I realize large portion plates and colossal grocery items are kind of an American thing.  Much of the modern world is not typically accustomed to keeping a five pound box of pancake mix in the house or 24-rolls of paper towels at once.  But as a family of five, these super sizes are major time savers. 

Skinny-mini Spaniards who fancy tapas-style dishes (smaller portions like appetizers) may spend hours a day visiting different local markets shopping for produce, poultry, breads and cheeses in large enough portions to serve around two meals. What a romantic idea of European life....unless you have three little hungry hippos who all seem to have experienced major appetite spurts since moving here!  Even the snacks and dried goods come in teenie-tiny sizes at most!  One day, we went through an entire box of cereal before 11:00AM.  

We attempted to food shop like locals the first few months in Barcelona...but I found myself back at the markets three or fours times a week stocking up yet again. Where's a COSTCO when you need one complete with jars of pickles the size of a human head and cheese wheels as big as a car tire?!  

Sometimes over-indulgence really is bliss.....even if it's not ideal for the waistline! 

Who else loves how absurd this giant jar of Nutella is?! 
Compliments of American wholesale food shopping!

4. Always a Holiday! - I used to complain about American retailers whenever stores stocked Halloween costumes in July, Christmas trees in August and Easter eggs in January.  I mean, what is the BIG RUSH, right?  Clearly an attempt by business owners to garner as many holiday sales as possible in the weeks and months leading up.  I would to roll my eyes and shake my head in disgust - but never before taking a stroll down the aisle and getting a glimpse of the goods ha!

And I'll admit, seeing all the shiny new packaging and festive colors would kind of put me in the spirit, even if I vowed never to make a purchase that early.  New season coming, fresh excitement brewing - I realize now looking back that the psychology behind it all wasn't lost on me.  Who doesn't love the holidays after all?  Americans are hands down some of the biggest fans!

By comparison, the Spanish are a bit more....delayed about it all.  No surprise, as this "better late than never!" mentality is clearly cultural.  Holiday decor, store sales and that festive feeling usually starts to set in about one to three weeks before a holiday, Christmas being the slight exception.  One could argue, it creates more anticipation for what's to come.  

But as I am a sucker for the holidays and an American at heart, I say BRING EM ON BABY! 

5. Grass - No, not that kind of grass (although I'll be writing soon about how we had to explain the funky smell to our kids when walking around Barcelona).  The grass I'm referring to is what grows on the ground usually in the front or back of your home.  A yard.  Or as Europeans call it, a garden. 

Living on the fifth floor of an apartment in the city means two things - your living room becomes your backyard or the public parks do.  We are blessed to live in a city where the parks are numerous and gorgeous, shaded and unique.  But the ease of opening your back door and letting the kids run like wild animals on your own property sure is nice.

When your living room becomes a backyard!

   

Five Conveniences We've Fallen in Love With!

The first time Tony and I visited Europe was to celebrate our one year wedding anniversary.  We took a twelve-night Princess Cruise from Rome and immediately fell in love with the jaw-dropping sites - Venice, Athens, Santorini, Dubrovnick.  Our days were spent slurping gelato, strolling cobblestone streets and sitting in quiet churches admiring the centuries-old architecture. It was a dream...

Can you tell this was "pre-children"?!
(cue the sound of a record player coming to a screeching halt!)

We look back on that trip and recognize it was the first stepping-stone to getting us where we are today - living and breathing life in Barcelona, Spain!  The city truly is as romantic, alive, vibrant, inspiring and delicious as we remember Europe to be back then.

But seriously, when you're an expat living with three young ones in a foreign city you need more than a foamy cappuccino and an ancient cathedral (although these mind-blowing masterpieces will forever move me to tears) to make life smooth.  It can be the littlest things that have the biggest impact as a family - things we never knew we wanted, until we had them!

And we have found some fabulous ones here...

1. Chiringuitos

I'm still not even sure I pronounce this one right, but let's focus on what is really important here.  Three words.  BAR. ON. BEACH.  Not the kind of bars/restaurants we're used to in Jersey on an elevated walkway (called a boardwalk) set way back off the water usually requiring shoes & shirts (or no service!). When you have kids, leaving the sandy beach to go to one of these for a beer or pizza is more of a hassle, yes?  Packing an enormous cooler of food - also a tad exhausting.

The first time friends explained what these Chiringuitos were, I heard angels sing!

Picture a small covered structure planted only 25 feet from the sea with tables and chairs placed in the sand selling beer, cocktails and Spanish tapas dishes like calamari, patatas bravas, nachos.  I didn't even get to the best part yet....TOYS!  Tons of toys, play houses and climbing structures so you can relax and enjoy while keeping your kids happy and safe nearby.  Don't want to stay seated outside the bar?  No pasa nada, chicos! (No problem, guys!)  You're welcome to take your food and cocktails to wherever on the beach your crew is sitting, which is a huge NO-NO on most U.S. beaches.

Life is Good...

I mean, does anything more need to be said about this GENIUS idea?!

One of our favorites, Chiringuito Ibiza in Casteldefells, Barca

2. Cheap Admissions

As a family of five spending the day in a city can quickly become pricey!  So you can imagine how thankful (and pleasantly surprised) we are to have tons of unique places to go, some of which cost less than a combo meal at McDonald's!

The city's science museum, Cosmo Ciaxa, is impressive, interactive and intriguing - like Christmas morning for my science loving six-year old who could stare at their giant swinging pendulum representing the Earth's rotation for hours!  Best part - It costs 4 euro for adults and kids are GRATIS (free)!  Talk about a full day without an empty wallet.

What could be better than an afternoon surrounded by everything chocolate (including your admission ticket)?!  At Museo de Xocolata, we were wowed by magnificent sculptures made solely of you know what.  Everything from the FC Barcelona Stadium to a life-size Komodo Dragon!  Kids under seven go free and adults just 6 euros, which left plenty of money to fill our bellies at the decadent snack bar.

Admiring FCB player #10 Messi made of xocolata!

Museo de Picasso houses the largest collection of the famous Spanish artist's work.  Ehem, okay I know what you're thinking - this is literally the least child friendly outing EVER!!  But it's also a part of the Spanish culture not worth missing and we want the kids to appreciate it.  Plus, we try to turn these sorts of afternoons into games!  Who can find a funny painting? Who can find a scary one?  With Picasso's quirky abstract style, the kids mostly just laugh at each piece.  It turns into a fun day, trust me, but they're learning too - a nice bonus!  And since kids enter free here also, it  keeps us parents smiling. 

Currently in the dead of summer, I have to mention this last gem, as it's been a real savior!  Jardins de La Torre de Les Aigues, a public splash pool (I was slightly grossed out by the concept at first also, but we tried it once and have returned many times!) located in city center has all we need to keep cool and have fun when the temps are sweltering. Oh yea, and it costs less than 1.50 euro per person to spend the day! Major score...

Jardins de La Torre de Les Aigues splash pool

3. Cafe & Play

Another slice of heaven here in Barcelona that involves food/drink and play.  What more to life is there really?! 

I've walked into countless cafes/restaurants here to grab a croissant or latte and to my surprise found a children's area stocked with table & chairs, books, toys, crafts.  Normally I would take my order "to-go" (which people here rarely do I've noticed) to avoid the struggle of keeping three little ones quiet while I have my zen caffeine moment.  But these common sense business owners understand if the kids are happy, the parents are happy (and relaxed). And happy parents are returning customers!  DUH!  Similarly, we've found handfuls of restaurants with outdoor seating placed perfectly next to......you guessed it, a playground!

I mean, do the Spanish have it together or WHAT?!                       


4. Airport Security Lines

Have you ever wanted to just throw your arms around an airport security officer and KISS them?!  Nope, me neither....until recently!  We all know that waiting on line at airport security can be a true test of wills.  Now add three children, stroller, snacks, gaming tablets, passports and necessary documents, carry-on luggage (my daughter's Hello Kitty suitcase falling over for the hundredth time)  It's like dying a slow and painful death, people!

So the first time we left Barcelona to fly home, I was astonished when the security officer pointed us away from the massive crowd of travelers waiting to remove belts/shoes and instead towards a sign marked "Family Security Line".  Could this be real life?!  Practically no one else to wait behind, extra staff there to assist with bags, even a play pen to place tiny tots in while the rest of the family gets situated.  What could have been 30 minutes of pure hell turned into five minutes of bliss!  Kudos to ANY airport around the globe, not just BCN, that has this feature.  It's priceless...

Smiling travelers is a priceless thing!

5. Kids' Birthday Parties

The first time we were invited to one of my daughter's classmate birthday parties, I was excited and...actually kind of nervous!  We didn't know what to expect, who we might meet and what on EARTH to buy for the birthday kid himself. We quickly learned that gift cards aren't real big here so I racked my brain thinking of the perfect present for someone I had never even met before.  I typically love shopping for gifts, but this was one was a little tricky!

Until one miraculous day I was informed by another mother about the group gift concept.  It's FABULOUS!  Basically, each parent from the class contributes 5-10 euro and with all the money collected, the class will give one BIG gift to the birthday child.  Parents appreciate it because of the ease and convenience - it really takes the guess work out.  The child loves the WOW factor that comes with opening a big beautifully wrapped present.

The gift is opened at the party, the children all cheer and it becomes a real celebratory part of the party!  Sometimes less is more, huh?

As we continue on our exploration of life in Barcelona, this list will surely grow. So stay tuned for more about the conveniences we have fallen in love with here!  And an upcoming post about some American conveniences we so dearly miss...

The Kindness of Strangers

When it comes to blogging, I first thought I would write in chronological order starting with the decision to move abroad, then how we told our children and next, how we shared the news with our families. 

But after the last two posts I'm in need (and maybe you too!) of something a little bit lighter.  Kind of like the intermezzo sorbet at a wedding after a heaping cocktail hour and pasta course ha!  Or like watching an episode of The Office after a Netflix binge of This Is Us.  I think you get the point...

Truth be told, I agreed to move to Barcelona having never even been here before. No pressure at all, right!?  Call it an enormous leap of faith, but also one of the most exciting parts of our move. The unknown waiting to be discovered.  And anyone that's visited a major European city before knows, they do NOT disappoint...  Our expectations were HIGH!

But actually, there was something I was a little disappointed about....at first.  It was one of those "first impression" things that kind of sticks with you.

People here didn't seem to smile much! 

Not what you were expecting me to say? 

Well, it bothered me!  I know it seems silly, but a major city is an overwhelming place at first, especially when you are bringing your entire family across the world there...to live!  Plus, there's something comforting about a friendly exchange of smiles between strangers, like, "Hey, we're both walking around on this Earth together...and I don't bite!"

When passing by folks on the street here, no smile. When standing at a checkout line, no grin.  At the bus stop, nope!  People just seemed to looked straight-ahead, almost through you, so as not to be bothered.   Especially when climbing onto an crowded but otherwise completely quiet bus (that is, of course until our Jersey family crew piles on: stroller, screaming toddlers, musical toys and generally loud presence - sorry, not sorry!)  But otherwise...blank stares.

What was up with people here and why did they look so pissed all the time?

That stoic look - maybe this was a Spanish thing?  Maybe this was just city life, which neither Tony or I had been exposed to living in until now.  Hell, maybe we were just spoiled with our Italian American northeast culture of upbeat greetings, chit-chat and long-winded "HIIIIII's".   

What the heck was I expecting anyway, a red carpet welcome reception to be rolled out for the Smith Family with glasses of cava (a most delicious Spanish champagne) and double-cheek smooches?! 

I decided I would smile anyway.  Be polite!  Bring some cheer wherever I went.  I remember reading somewhere that a smile, even when you have to force it, releases endorphins in the brain and actually makes a person feel happier and less stressed.  So you can imagine what a difference a smile from a stranger during those first few crazy days of settling in would have made. 

Then one day, thankfully, I started seeing things differently.  I was riding the bus (yup, we rely completely on mass transit here) and had the baby in her stroller.  As we approached our stop, I began rolling towards the double doors to exit.  Suddenly a man bent down and grabbed the front of my stroller!

Was he trying to kidnap London?!  "Yo ayuda, ayuda!" he said to me. 
To that I thought, "Ay-WHO-da?!"  My protective mama bear instinct was flaring up fast...

Then I realized he was actually helping me (ayuda!) off the bus. Sigh*

You idiot!  I made an embarrassing mental note. Must learn Spanish, must learn Spanish.

It took me by surprise, but I welcomed his help and quickly replied "Muchas gracias!"  Few days later, I was carrying a heavy bag of groceries while pushing the baby and a woman sharply dressed for work (in heels might I add), grabbed the bag from my hand and insisted on helping me to my building...three blocks away!

Another "Seriously?!" moment for me - but also a heart-warming one. 

I started studying the people of Barcelona more.  Looking beyond the surface of a smile exchange between two people.  I realized my first real cultural lesson in our new city was unfolding.  The kindness of strangers. 

Did either one of those people flash their pearly whites in the process of helping me?  Not necessarily...but their insistent gestures suggested more than a polite smile would.  It seemed to be their duty, an obligation almost, to help one another (Spanish or not) because it's what......

We. Should. Do.  People going out of their way for one another, for no special reason or recognition.

In the following weeks I saw tons of examples of people giving up their seats on the bus for an elderly person, helping folks with canes or on crutches cross a busy street, strangers bending down to play with my kids if they were fussing, passer-bys alerting me when the baby dropped her shoe (or blanket or pacifier or countless other things!) on the sidewalk. 

That first stroller incident that stunned me?  It now takes place all the time. And of course I now welcome it ha!

One night, Anthony fell asleep on the bus ride home from basketball practice. Seeing I had my hands full with two other children, a nice woman picked all 50 pounds of him up in her arms as if he were her own child and carried him off for me. I was astonished and grateful!

Why? 

Because the first few months of being an expat can feel lonely.  No family, no friends yet.  But because of these complete strangers, I felt as if there were others looking out for me.  It's the little things in life, isn't it?

During the second week of school, a girl I had only met once before approached me on the play yard. Her son was in Anthony's class.  She explained that she drives her children to school every morning and passes me and my three little ones waiting at the bus stop.

"I see you each morning. I need to take your kids to school for you," she insisted. I thought she was joking so I politely laughed it off.  Again, she said "No, I need to do this for you. I have a car and you don't!"  I couldn't believe it - this girl barely knew me.  But winter was approaching and I knew what a huge help this would be to us.  So I gladly accepted and that mom has become a great friend.  That simple offer has turned into a wonderful friendship here in Barcelona and now my son's closest friend from class.  She didn't have to, but she did - and didn't think twice about it.

I started to really build trust in the people here and so did my kids.

Something very rewarding happens in the moment when you go from "tourist" status to "local resident" in a foreign city, something I would only be exposed to as an expat living here.  The city even feels less overwhelming when I walk around knowing that if I ever needed help, someone would be there to jump right in. It helped me to appreciate and even love the Spanish/Catalan culture - rich and deeply rooted, genuine and not forced.

It starts to feel a bit more like...a place we can call home.




   



   

Along for the ride...

Revealing a surprise to your children like a trip to Disney or a new swimming pool is one of the most enjoyable parts of being a parent.  And for anyone that has had to share less enjoyable news, maybe the death of a family pet, you soon realize this is one of the hardest parts.

As thrilled as Tony and I were for this next chapter of our family's life, relocating to Barcelona, I was worried sick about telling the kids. When our realtor asked to stake a "For Sale" sign on the front lawn, we told her no!  Who does that?  We wanted to avoid the kids raising questions - especially from our five-year old, who notices EVERY-thing including when the neighbors came home with a rental car after an auto accident.  Plainly put, he keeps us on our toes!  To us, our move was exciting news. To Anthony and Autumn, I wasn't so sure.

How would we even deliver the news?!  "Hey kids, Mommy and Daddy have made a decision that will completely turn your lives upside down and guess what?  You're just along for the ride."  Ugh, the butterflies seemed to be eating away at the lining in my stomach. Would we break their little hearts?

I prayed they wouldn't cry or worse...hate us forever.   

Okay readers, I promise not ALL of my posts will be this emotional (just wait for the hilarious one about how we explained topless beaches in Spain to the kids ha!) and have you yearning towards the fridge for a comforting tub of Ben & Jerry's. Although, I'll admit, I have gone through several tubs myself just writing this one...

A week after our relocation decision was made, I was attending my son Anthony's nursery school Mothers' Day Tea.  This was my absolute favorite event of the year.  Each mommy received a bouquet of paper tulips with sugar gumdrops inside (although three of my four gumdrops already had all the sugar licked off, ahem), a hand-print craft (which as fellow moms know, are worth more than a pair of red-soled Louboutins!) and were served sprinkle cookies with iced tea.  The class performed skits and upbeat songs while the moms exchanged humble smiles and giggles to one another.

And then his teacher cued up the music to one last tune. A sweet melody called "Count on Me" by Bruno Mars. Suddenly my brain was filled with memories and my eyes filled with tears. Warm baby snuggles, stumbling first steps, nighttime feedings, first words and countless other milestones that get documented in the baby book but soon forgotten during the tumultuous and trying toddler years.

Those tiny little preschool voices filled that room of sniffling mothers...

"If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea...I'll sail the world...to find you.
If you ever find yourself stuck in the dark and you can't see...I'll be the light...to guide you."

And something inside told me exactly what my little boy and his sisters needed to hear from their Mommy and Daddy.

Several weeks later after school was out for the summer, we felt the time was right.  Still unsure of how both Anthony and Autumn might react, we decided to tell them separately.  Allow them to feel honest emotion without influence from the other.  This was the right move.

My daughter, who is bouncy, chatty, funny and fearless responded with a simple, "Well.....I really like our house. Can I take my room with me...like, all of these walls!?"  To that, we giggled with relief and responded yes. "Can I take my dollhouse with me?" And the list went on of her personal belongings and the reassurance she needed that it would all come with us. Sigh* That went well!

But she was the easy one to share the news with and Tony and I both knew it.

When it was time for Anthony, we chose a quiet part of the house free of interruption. I handed him a gift bag, similar to one also prepared for his sisters. Excitedly, as all five-year olds would do, he tore through the tissue paper and pulled out a hat.  On the front was the symbol for FCB (Futbol Club Barcelona for our American football friends!) Next was a framed photo of our family.  And last, a book titled Undercover Spy Adventures in Barcelona.  

"Hey buddy," my husband started and put his hand on our son's arm, "You know how one of our favorite things to do is go exploring and find new adventures in the neighborhood?"

"Sure Daddy," he answered.

"Well, Mommy and Daddy are very excited to tell you about a new very special adventure.  And the best part is that we get to do it all together as a family!"  Anthony's eyes were wide now. "We are going to be moving to another part of the world in Spain to a city called," and he grabbed the book, "Barcelona."  And there was a pause.

I would love to end this post on a real high and tell you that Anthony jumped for joy at our news!  Truth is, he didn't. He threw his head back, put his hands over his face and started to cry.  His first words were, "I don't want to move! I like it here!"  Tony and I looked at one another and I'll admit, I was useless at that moment.  None of the responses I rehearsed in my mind could find their way to my mouth. Luckily, Tony had comforting words about all the exciting things this new adventure would bring.

Then he did something that I have such a hard time with as a mom.  He took my hand and motioned for us to walk away. Leave Anthony on the couch to thumb through his new book and allow him to really process the news.  As difficult as this was for me, I agreed it was the very best move.  Sometimes as parents, we just need to stop talking. Stop comforting. Stop explaining. And let our children navigate their own emotions.

An hour later, I was in the kitchen washing dishes. I felt a little hand tap me on the leg and I turned to see my son standing there.  "Mommy?" he asked.  "Yes sweetheart," I answered.  And the part that came next I will never forget.

My five-year old said in a quiet voice to me, "I am sorry for being so sad before with you and Daddy. I am excited about Barcelona!" I had a golf ball in my throat at that moment but said nothing. Just squeezed him hard.  For a long time.

Thin threads in life always seem to amaze me.  This next one gives me chills.  The entire first year of school in Spain has come to an end for my children and to celebrate the occasion, Anthony's class performed a Summer Show.  Had it really been one year since that special Mothers' Day Tea?  So much had changed since then.  My once little boy was now one of the tallest in his class!

And then to my utter amazement, his teacher cued up the music to one last song and I couldn't believe my ears.  The same familiar tune sang just one year earlier began to play.  "If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea..." As Anthony's class, filled with the faces of students from all over the world who were complete strangers only twelve months ago, started singing, I looked at my son with tears in my eyes.

He looked back at me.

We both smiled.

And in my heart, I knew the initial pain was worth this ultimate reward.  The adventure for our family had really just begun.

Anthony & Autumn on the first day at their new school
here in Barcelona