Amiga?

I was looking at the ingredients on the package of some crackers, and trying to keep my monkeys from jumping on top of the shelves with my big eyes and French mouth, when someone came behind me and exclaimed something along the line of “where are you from?” ! (It seems the grocery store is as good a place as any to meet people). She was clearly excited. Usually people are curious, but not that happy to see me as a long lost friend. I had never seen the woman before and yet it seemed I was a friend. She had noticed that the children and I were not speaking Portuguese and noticed, too, that was dressed “different”.  I believed I had my hair up in braids and a long skirt… Yes, that’s unusual for Brazilians ! ;) She is from Bolivia, married to a Brazilian, and has been living in this town for over 10 years. When I told her that I was born in Argentina we quickly switched to Spanish, though after speaking Portuguese on a daily basis, my Spanish is now polluted with Portugnol. It’s a disaster. Then she asked me if I liked it here, I had to admit that it was difficult. She seemed moved to find a fellow foreigner and asked me if she could contact me through FB. I hope she does.

Sleeping at Last

Have you ever heard about Sleeping at Last? It’s the name of an indie band I discovered recently. I thought it was quite fitting as I’ve had trouble sleeping. Again.

In order to have the kids in school at 7:30 AM, the alarm clock is set at 6 o’clock. For a few mornings I was waking up half an hour earlier, then one whole hour earlier, and once I even woke up at four! I stayed in bed and was in and out of consciousness until the alarm rang, but still… Did I mention that I’m not a morning person? I can’t get to bed earlier than midnight. So waking up earlier than six makes for very short nights. I was exhausted. I couldn’t explain why either. ‘Whatthefreak?!‘ was my only thought. D told me I was probably anxious about falling asleep after the alarm, which has indeed happened in the past. What was I supposed to do to pass the message to my subconscious? I don’t know why it happened then, and I don’t know how I seem to be back to normal now. Weird.

(click for source)

Back to Sleeping At Last. Apparently they are having some kind of buzz because of a few songs that were featured on TV shows, but I don’t watch any of those (unless I find them on Y*tube), so I’ve been out of it. Anyway. These days I have the album Atlas: Year One playing on repeat on Deezer.

Some people get their escape from drugs, video games, painting or baking. My escape is music. (And reading.) (And sewing.) (Or a combination — though reading and sewing at the same time is rather difficult. Ha ha).

Here is one of my favorite:

We laid our names to rest
Along the dotted line.
We left our date of birth
And our history behind.

We were full of life,
We could barely hold it in.
We were amateurs at war,
Strangers to suffering.

We made our families proud
But scared at the same time.
We promised we’d be safe,
Another lie from the front lines.

Our backs against the wall,
We’re surrounded and afraid.
Our lives now in the hands
Of the soldiers taking aim.

Our questions ricochet
Like broken satellites:
How our bodies, born to heal,
Become so prone to die?

Though time is ruthless,
It showed us kindness in the end,
By slowing down enough,
A second chance to make amends.
As life replayed, we heard a voice proclaim:

“lay your weapons down!
They’re calling off the war
On account of losing track
Of what we’re fighting for.”

So we found our way back home,
Let our cuts and bruises heal.
While a brand-new war began,
One that no one else could feel.

Our nights have grown so long.
Now we beg for sound advice.
“let the brokenness be felt
’til you reach the other side.
There is goodness in the heart
Of every broken man
Who comes right up to the edge
Of losing everything he has.”

We were young enough to sign
Along the dotted line.

Now we’re young enough to try
To build a better life.

Os gatinhos

So, the kids have been going to school for two weeks now.

After the first day, a marveled Uriel told me, “Mom, at school I played with a GIRL!”. Hubby heard this from the kitchen and, grinning, he looked at me and said, “in twenty years that same sentence will mean something quite different!” ;)

The following Saturday morning, when they were waking up, Natanael asked me why they were not putting on their uniform, “well, there is no school today”, I explained. His reply? “But… WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?!”

Ha ha. They crack me up!

Needless to say, kindergarten is a success all around.

Voilà, les enfants ont finalement commencé l’école il y a deux semaines.

À la fin du premier jour, un Uriel émerveillé me dit: “Maman, à l’école j’ai joué avec UNE FILLE!”. D, qui était dans la cuisine, me regarde et sourit : “Dans vingt ans cette phrase voudra dire quelque chose de très différent!”. ;)

Le samedi suivant, au réveil, Natanael me demande pourquoi ils ne mettent pas les uniformes. “Il n’y a pas d’école aujourd’hui”, je lui explique. Sa réponse? “Mais… QU’EST-CE QU’ON VA FAIRE!?!!”

Ha ha! Je me marre.

Oui, l’école maternelle est un grand succès.