Grandmother and Grandfather’s Day. Dzien Dziadek i Babcia.

little red riding hood

“In America, all you would do is make a card for your grandma and grandpa,” stated my daughter.

This came about when we were having a conversation about whether or not she was glad to be back in Poland.

Two days ago, her class performed Little Red Riding Hood, the play, did two dances, and sang multiple songs for the grandpas and grandmas in the audience.

My daughter gave up a visit to the States so that she could be there for this special day, even though her grandparents were thousands upon thousands of miles and an ocean and a continent away in Arizona and California respectively.

You have to understand, my daughter feels Polican, as she says. Polish and American, and she speaks Pinglish. For Polish and English.

We are so above and beyond grateful to God that she feels this way. We have instilled in her the utmost to bloom where planted, and we are planted by God in the country of Poland.

And, for that very reason, my daughter attends Polish school and participates in all celebrations that Poland holds dear. We love her school and all that it does.

You need to understand, as well, that our daughter’s school is extremely small. It is a K-8th grade school that had its gymnasium built by the European Union, and, until this past fall, had absolutely no playground.

Before the playground was built, my daughter was asked by some friends and family what she did during recess.

Well, the first thing you should know is that my daughter does not technically have recess. She has 5-minute breaks between her 45-minute classes. Otherwise, her school day is only the hours that she has class.

That can mean that her “school day” is for 3 hours one day or 5 hours on her longest day—and that is only because she goes in for a 45-minute session of PSL (Polish as a Second Language). Otherwise her school day is 4 hours.

At first, such short days were huge adjustments. But as the year went on, we have grown to really love the short school days. It gives us an opportunity to enroll Adelyne in multiple activities but it doesn’t take us until bedtime to complete them.

This is what she participates in during the typical week:

Mondays—horse lessons and swimming.  This is her late night.

Tuesdays—nothing but play.

Wednesdays—French lessons and then we swing by our office where she has her “library”

Thursdays—Nothing but play with her best friend!  Thursdays she only has 3 hours of school.

Fridays—Dance after school.  At the school.  Very convenient and she loves it (it is an outside company that comes in)

Youth group is a Friday night event.

Anyhow—back to the recess question.  Adelyne was asked, “What do you do during recess since you don’t have a playground?”  She responded, “We run and jump and skip!”

I loved that.  Even in simplicity, children find great joys.  Sometimes I believe that we try to incorporate too much (I am just as guilty as the next) into their lives when all children really need is dirt.  And like we all heard growing up, “Dirt don’t hurt!”

This week as we celebrated the grandparents that were able to attend, I thought of the spectacular assembly the teachers prepared and the students prepared for and I realized—this was very special.  So special that it would not have taken place in the States.

First of all, to be very fair, in the States, most people don’t even live near their grandparents.  Very few people live where they were born in the States.  That is just the reality there.  In fact, people will gladly move where they will find work.  Even if it means hours upon hours away from their families.

In Poland, people tend to live (generally speaking it is still very true to this day) where they were born.  Therefore, they have large amounts of relatives right nearby—including grandparents.  Poland has yet to become a very transient society.  Yes, many migrate outside of Poland for work.  But, for those Poles remaining in Poland, a very large population still live very near in proximity to where they were born.

This is EXTREMELY evident at Dzien Dziadek i Babcia.  The auditorium was FILLED with grandparents.  It was such a blessing to see.

Having a daughter that lives thousands upon thousands of miles away from her grandparents, I loved that as I glanced around at the event, there was a sea of elderly faces and hair of wisdom.  And oh my!  They were all dressed up to a T and just as proud as could be as they watched their posterity perform just for them.

It was really special.

And Adelyne got to experience it because we are in Poland.

Oh—and dance in it!

So, today, I give to you my daughter in a super adorable dance that she got to participate in for Grandparents Day in Poland.

Her stats on the day of this event:  Adelyne Marguerite; age 8; 3rd Class; Grandparents’ Day Celebration ballerina (in the light pink skirt).  Enjoy!

If you are a grandpa or grandma, no matter where you are in the world, we celebrate you!

Enjoy!

xoxo

b

Here is the link to dance number 2:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygYbewb2BoY&feature=youtu.be

The Return of GoGo Baby and her Momma…

Last year I shared a photo when my husband returned after a month of travels to Africa. It was of my daughter and son—and my son simply laid his head on my husband’s lap, in awe of his daddy and his closeness and presence.

Sometimes as the mom, since we are typically the “No” parent, we wonder how our presence is felt when we are not there or what our homecoming would be like.

After all, Daddy is always “So Much Fun!” and the “Tickle Fight King!” And the list goes on…

Me, as Mommy—Well, I am the do your homework, clean your room, brush your teeth—EXCUSE ME?! lady.

Yet. Just yet…They must have missed me quite a bit these past two weeks when I went to America to help my mommy out (she broke her shoulder and had emergency surgery) because I got a glorious homecoming from the one that made me a momma and the other that fought with his entire being to live (and live he did thanks to the Grace of God and your prayers around the world)…

And Daddy got his baby back. His final baby. She was tired and in shock. And just as cuddly as could be. She is her daddy’s girl—although in the photo, you may wonder 😉 Chalk it up to jet travels. The two days we have been home since, she has trailed after him in the home continually shouting, “Dadda! Dadda! Dadda!” and then just stares and smiles at him until he responds.

All in all, my journey finally brought me home to my babies and my Richie…And Josephine and I couldn’t be happier. Because together, as 5, we are complete.

Xo for now from here to there. My next cultural blog post will be…
Europe! It makes it easy for you to get fat.

So stay tuned. In the meantime, enjoy our glorious reunion…

b

waitingwhen is momma going to come?

Waiting for Momma…

daddy's baby is back!gogo baby has arrived

But GoGo Baby came first!

mommy's home!

After I gathered all the luggage, I finally arrived.

And I was in heaven with my hugs and cuddles.

i get them both!complete!

Rich and I still have yet to take a photo.  It’s probably because we are now in survival mode with jet lag taking over the warped bodies and minds of Brooke and Josephine.  But we get to go to Kalisz on Thursday for the celebration dinner from our Christmas in the Square (raising money for children with cancer) event.  Perhaps then we’ll snap a childless shot together.  And, maybe-just maybe, I won’t fall asleep at the event.  We will have to wait and see.

Ciao for now (or Pa in Polish).

As always.  We love you…

B and R

I broke my bra. The saga of nursing in America!

About 200 eyes fixated on me. The tired and weary, haggard world traveler that had been toting my 11-month-old halfway across the world all day. We were two airplanes down, 2 continents nearly flown completely over. More time zones than I know. And one Atlantic Ocean safely crossed.

I was tired. Baby was tired. And we had time before our last flight. That’s when it hit me! My epiphany! Pure brilliance.

Problem. I was now in America and America makes it REALLY hard for me to be brilliant.

So this is how the story goes…

2015/01/img_8354.jpg

I have 3 children.  THREE!  And I have raised most of them in Poland. Land of the free.  Free to nurse, that is.

I am not a hootie-hider, cover myself, hide in the bathroom stall, nursing momma.  I am a very European, baby needs to eat, nurse your child while you continue to have conversation and sip your latte, type of woman.

To be honest—I drive my lovely American girlfriends batty.  They all offer me hootie-hiding contraptions all of the time.

No.Thank.You, my lovely friends.

On my way to America, I nursed my baby on flight number one while seated next to a MBA student from Mexico.  No problem.  And then she slept.  The entire plane’s passengers, if they weren’t in such a hurry to hustle to their connecting flights, would probably have liked to thank me for it.

Plane number 2.  The big one.  The nearly 11-hour-flight one.  Swedish University Student to my left, Polish business couple to my right.  Me.  Smack in the middle.  Nursed my baby multiple times while carrying on conversations.  Bam!  Super happy baby.  All 11 hours.  Super happy passengers all around me.

Plane number 3.  Take off and landing on American soil.  Uh-oh!  I already could sense the trouble.  Americans LOVE organic.  Must pay super duper lots of money for healthy produce, healthy meat, healthy diet regimens, and healthy air filters, and healthy…Okay.  You get the idea.

But, heaven forbid, a woman nurse her child in public.  And then America is out for UNHEALTHY, UNSANITARY, UNCOMFORTABLE…No baby boobies in public, please!

But do you think that stops me?!  Well…As I glanced around at the 100 plus uncomfortable looking people, I thought to myself, I will be uber kind today and nurse before the airplane.  THAT WAY…That way, baby will be fed, happy, and sleep the entire flight from Colorado to Arizona.  Baby wins.  Uber sensitive American traveling passengers win.  All around, everyone wins.

But, you see…America has the problem with fixation and sensationalizing everything.

The minute that I sat down to discreetly nurse (not using a hootie hider but still able to usually nurse very politely), it seemed as if the news media brought out cameras and everyone—old, young, male, female…EVERYONE could only focus on me—the nursing mom.  My baby.  Oh heavens, you soon-to-be-travelers.  You woke the sleeping giant!

As all eyes were on me.  Literally.  Stopping.  Staring.  Focusing on my plight and struggle.  As all eyes were on me, my baby grew more and more agitated.  And the more I tried to politely nurse, the more and more people stopped, turned, and stared.

Not wanting to become the National Headliner that a lot of nursing moms become, I tried to be even more careful—by this time, baby is tired (in her time, it was nearly 3am), I have completely covered myself up, and now the entire room of waiting passengers can’t seem to do anything but stare at my chest, my screaming baby, and the fact that I am TRYING to discreetly nurse.  Seriously?  Doesn’t everyone have smart phones nowadays?  Can’t they get on them and find SOMETHING else to do?  Anything?  Nope?  Nothing???

And that’s when it happened.  Baby was tired of American etiquette and went all Hulk-like on momma!

Josephine, apparently, did not care if mommy was about to make national news by offending fellow travelers and nursing in public.  My 11-month-old was like, “Oh yeah, take that!”  And pop!  There you have it.  She broke my bra and finished nursing.

Yep.  My bra broke.  The saga of nursing in America.  And there is a moral to this story.

Here it is:

If you are uncomfortable when a mommy is trying to nurse her baby, perhaps turn a different direction and go about your own business.  Otherwise, baby will make sure you are SUPER uncomfortable later .

And like Kenny Rogers sings, “You’ve got to know when to hold em; know when to fold em; know when to walk away; know when to RUN…” because this nursing momma ain’t going nowhere!