Setting a higher bar

I liked children before I had kids. During my teenage years I spent a lot of time babysitting. At family functions, I was the one often playing with the little tykes. I continued to babysit one child for several years into my twenties and was quite close to her.

So it’s surprising to me that I find myself not bonding with some of my friends’ children. Friends who I care for dearly, who I like and respect and want the best for both them and their children. But playing with or interacting with their kids feels more like a chore than a joy, something to do because I feel obligated to.

I wondered whether this was an effect of becoming a mother, if no other child could quite match the affection I have for my own. But I was able to think of several children of River’s age who I do really like and who I’m happy to spend time with, as well as have River spend time with. These kids can all be labeled sweet, as well as quite kind, generous, curious and aware. Those are characteristics I see in River, so am I more drawn to kids who resemble River’s personality? Or was I just lucky to get a child with the characteristics that I tend to bond with?

What keeps me from bonding with the others? Usually a temperament that is not warm or social. Cranky, whiny, demanding, oppositional or spoiled doesn’t help. Breaking toys or damaging property does not endear me. I’m a lot less willing to endure a spit-up or a poopy pant if it’s not from my own child, especially if I don’t have a change of clothes available.

Looking back on the kids I babysat, most, at least those I cared for regularly, were well-behaved. Did I perhaps gravitate then towards caring for children I got along with? Or have current parenting styles perhaps changed how the average kid behaves?

It does make me worry how I will handle number two if it doesn’t have a warm or social personality. Will my maternal instinct kick in and find the positives in the child’s nature, or will I also fail to bond with a child who brings stress and demands without the copious amounts of sunshine?

How do your relations with other children compare with how you relate to your own? Has the way you have related to other kids changed since you had your own? If you have children with different personalities, how have you adapted?

phone home

I called home today and River seems to be doing well. He has a habit of not speaking much on the phone. Though he listens intently, if he talks at all, it’s in a barely audible whisper. He said yes when I asked if he was having fun with his grandparents and toward the end he said “Te amo,” which may have been prompted by my mom.

My mom sounded like she was still thrilled to have him there. She told me how they had taken him to the lake, to the park, to a party, and today were either heading to the beach or to McDonalds playland, depending on the weather.

Each day, I regret that he’s not here for all the things I think he would enjoy – the spectacle of hundreds of motorcycles entering a medieval plaza today, playing with two toddlers at a 3.5 hour Spanish lunch, waving to the airplanes flying into Madrid just above us. But I’m also glad that he’s having his own type of vacation – filled with activities and adventures. He’s also creating family bonds and memories, which is important as well.

That said, I look forward to seeing him again just over a week from now.

Libros!

I’ve been waiting ages to get to Spain and to buy River some quality books in Spanish. The more I waited, the better sense I had of what kind of books he needed. My biggest priority was on non-fiction – books on science, pirates, castles, the universe, how things work, bugs, emotions. I got books on all those topics and more.

I got a book about a cricket by Eric Carle that ends with the sound of a cricket. I got a book about using tools that comes with several plastic tools. I got a book with 500 questions, including one River already asks about – What is the difference between a mountain and a hill? I got a book of short bedtime stories. I got a book on the origins of things. I got a huge encyclopedia of insects and bugs. I got a book about simians, with chapters on gorillas, bonobos and others. I got a book about the arrival of a new sibling, which includes a drawing of the mother in the hospital after giving birth, breastfeeding the new baby. The upper part of her breast and part of her nipple is showing.

I am SO thrilled with the books. I didn’t even look at the prices. I had waited so long, I wouldn’t have another chance for years. This wasn’t the time to be cheap. I studied the shelves and pulled off whatever I thought could be of use. The cashier looked at me in disbelief when I brought the huge stack to the register. I asked her not to tell me the price and I didn’t look as she was ringing it up.

I couldn’t help seeing it through upon signing the credit card bill. And Mark couldn’t help exclaiming at my spending over 300 euro. Thank goodness the exchange rate has moved in our favor in recent weeks.

“I hope you don’t complain when I buy River a personal computer,” Mark said

Of course it feels extravagant to spend over $400 within a half hour. That is far outside the normal for us. We have a budget of $100/month to spend on River, aside from food, childcare and education savings. I told Mark it would be several months of River’s allowance. I’ve bought him virtually no new clothes, very few new toys, and a few new books. We try to get everything possible secondhand. But I have not been able to find quality non-fiction books in Spanish secondhand. So I just had to accept the expenditure and let it go.

The fact that we have another on the way means that the books will be used to educate and entertain at least two. I can always sell them online when we are done, or donate them to the library, which would probably appreciate the addition to the Spanish language collection.

In the meantime, I’m so excited to share this new knowledge with River, and to learn the Spanish vocabulary words associated with these new subjects. I know he’ll be excited and will appreciate them. I look forward to many hours spent together reading and enjoying them. I’m already planning the next trip in a few years, to buy another set of age-appropriate books. In the meantime, our friends, seeing how very serious I was about building River’s Spanish language library, said they could save us the airfare and buy and ship books for us. Great.

48 hours

It’s been 48 hours since I left the little one, though it hardly seems that long. I leave my computer clock set to his time, so each time I turn it on, and each time I sit down to eat, I think about where he probably is and what he is doing. Right now he’s probably at my brother’s house. I hope he received his nap. He’s probably enjoying the attention of his two older cousins, he’s probably being fed copious amounts of junk food by a doting aunt, and I believe he’s going to be brought to a party this evening.

The 2.5-year-old we are staying with here in Spain just went to bed, shortly before 11 p.m. He didn’t take a nap. Part of me wishes we had brought River. He would have had such a good time with all the children and the child-friendly activities here. On the other hand, I think he would have suffered with the lack of schedule. We walked and toured the city until 3:30 this afternoon, together with a toddler and a five-month old. The kids are largely expected to adapt to the adult’s rhythm.

In the evenings, the streets were packed with families enjoying a pre-dinner stroll. The carousel was doing a brisk business, the line was long at the ice cream shop. At 7:30 p.m., I saw many, many babies and small tots outdoors with their families, enjoying the evening. I thought about how River is usually winding down and beginning his bedtime ritual at that time.

My friend says it’s due to the long evenings. As long as it’s light out, her toddler won’t accept that it’s time for bed. Even if she darkens the room, he can hear the voices of people enjoying the outdoors, and knows they are not in bed. So the Spaniards seem to enjoy the warm daylight hours, together with their children, and just deal with whatever consequences come, including tiredness, crabbiness and opposition.

This afternoon, after walking for miles, both Mark and I took a nap before the next round. The two kids didn’t. Tough tykes in Spain.

lessons in hospitality

Enroute to Spain, I made a stop to see family. I was disappointed when I arrived at 8:30 p.m., after six hours of traveling, and there was nothing to eat. Only after much scrounging was I able to come up with a hot dog and some Jello, not the “real” food I craved.

I’ve had similar experiences visiting other family members, where I need to go grocery shopping or get take out in order to not go hungry.

Then I arrive in Spain, where my husband and I are given a loft, half of the square footage of our friends’ apartment. It’s open and filled with light. I hear birds chirping. We have a private bathroom, a place to relax, a flat screen TV. Most notably, my friend filled our personal refrigerator with drinks and put some snacks on top of it. In the bathroom, she laid out all kinds of toiletries we could need and said to help ourselves.

I did, in fact, forget my shampoo. It’s great to be able to grab a snack when hungry and not have to ask, or to find a way to go out and buy something. I’m reminded of similar hospitality I’ve been offered in many countries – the kind where the hosts think of what the guests might want or need, and do their best to accommodate.

In the U.S., on the other hand, it seems common to give guests a space, and tell them to make themselves at home. But they are often on their own in terms of feeding themselves and they may even take out the hosts in thanks for the lodging. I understand that people are tired and busy and may not want to put themselves out for guests. But that extra step makes being a guest so much more enjoyable. It makes me want to repay the favor – which makes the experience better for everyone.

We don’t have great accommodations for guests – a fold out sofa in the living room. I do try to have food on hand, I try to make at least one decent meal anytime someone is visiting and I tell people to help themselves to whatever is in the kitchen. But I recognize it’s not all that comfortable to rifle through someone else’s kitchen. I also admit that with the pressures of parenthood and work, I’m often fine with just suggesting we go out to eat.

This reminds me that I should make a bit more effort. I should have toiletries easily available and ready to use. I should have some snacks available in an easy to access place. And I should make an effort to think about what my guests would like to eat or do, and try to make that happen.

Spain

Oh, the relaxed Spain of my youth. It is coming back to me.

“You’ve come to Spain to do sports?” my friend’s mother said to me, referring to the four-day bike trip we’ve planned. “You are supposed to come here to eat and relax.”

I told her my goal was to eat as much good food as I could without gaining weight, and that the biking would allow me to eat more.

“But it’s not a problem if you gain weight,” she said. “Because you’ll return to the U.S., where except for Thanksgiving, there is no good food, and you will lose it.”

I have to agree with her on the food. After a day and a half spent in airplane travel and a stopover at a house where there was almost nothing to eat that was not processed, I’m longing for quality food made from fresh ingredients even more.

We all gathered at a table outside a bar. Our group ranged in age from one month old to grandparents. The bar tables were all full. Plenty of people strolled outside. My friend said there were less people outside than usual, because on Friday evenings people head to the villages.

Eat, drink, relax. Adults entertained the children. No one talked much about work, about obligations, about anything stressful. It was just an acceptance of and enjoyment of the moment. This seems to me like a nice place to live.

It takes a village

I’ve been in Spain less than four hours and already I can see a place that puts “it takes a village into practice.” Our friends live in an apartment complex filled with small tykes. When I asked how it was possible to have so many toddlers in one building, they said it was due to the economic crisis. “There is nothing else to do,” Jose said. Or, as his mother theorized, perhaps it’s due to the storks that are prevalent in this area. One of these massive birds flew by as we sat at a table outside of a bar.

The complex has a locked outdoor patio, with a basketball court, swings and toys. “You can just let your kids run in here. Nothing can happen since it’s enclosed and there are always so many people we know here,” said Lucia. Giant roses – pink, yellow, red and fragrant – grew from small garden patches amidst the toys. “If someone needs to go and do something, someone else will watch their child.” It’s such a simple way to help the neighbors get to know each other, to interact, to help each other out, yet it’s not something I’ve seen in the United States.

From there, we went to a bar that was literally 10 feet from the front door of the building. Both adults and children congregated there. The kids could run around and play, the adults socialized and drank, everyone enjoyed themselves.

Our hosts quickly assembled a family group. Jose, his parents and his two brothers all live within a couple of buildings of each other. The three generations see each other all the time.

In the fall, 2.5 year old Jose Jr. will start preschool. It’s five days a week, located a five-minute walk from home, and can be as long as 8-3. My friend Lucia thinks it will be possible for her to find work that will allow her to pick him up by 3. The cost - $0. Public preschools are free, and education is mandatory from the age of 4.

I told them that the program we’d like to enroll River in next year costs $9,000 for four days a week, and that that is in the mid-range where we live. The cheapest programs are around $3,000, the most expensive can exceed $30,000. “$9,000 is about what we have budgeted for our child’s entire education,” Jose said.

Of course I like having a choice of programs, but I’m still mentally trying to come to terms with that price tag, and to financially prepare for it. I also think it’s wrong that some children have access to quality programs, and others don’t. I’d rather pay a bit more in taxes and allow all children the same opportunity.

Community, family, connection, support for parents and for early education for all – those are all values that I cherish. When I see them practiced elsewhere, it makes me sad that some people in my country think making each individual struggle, and the children to pay the price, is necessarily great. They may mock what they call “socialism.” But a little care for all people, and structures that support inter-reliance go a long way in terms of creating happy, secure and protected children – and adults.