Slodkie Czary Mary

Making candy that we are so quick to gobble up is a beautiful process perhaps far too under appreciated!

On our recent trip to Wroclaw, we were able to see a sweets shop make little bits of hard candy like grandma would give you and finish with the grand finale of a heart sucker. It was a hot yet delightful experience—and I literally felt as excited as a “kid in a candy shop” !!!

To begin, the candy base has to be heated until it reaches the perfect temp. Then it is dumped onto a granite tabletop to cool for a period of time.

Aren’t we all a bit like candy? When we are a little too hot, we also need a cooling off period.

While it is in the process of cooling, the Candy Gals begin adding the colors for their upcoming projects.

After, the candy is cut and the second process begins—it’s nearly like a play-doh factory.

You begin by folding and pounding the candy.

Which then leads to stretching it…

After stretching, they begin the process of separating their colors and building their desired result/s—which this one would eventually become a heart lolly.

Along the way, however, was almost like a “dessert break” because they took a portion of the sucker and made it into tiny little pieces of hard candy which they promptly served to our room full of eager eaters.

The candies were still warm, sour, and brought me back to grandma’s house.

While we were all sucking on our nostalgic delights, the final project was expertly being finished with twisting, turning, cutting and shaping…

Until finally, voile! The heart lolly!

Which then goes for sale at the store, Slodkie Czary Mary!

Am I patient enough to make candy?

Perhaps.

Am I eager enough to eat it?

Pretty sure that’s a resounding You Betcha!

Do I recommend stopping in and watching this process?

Absolutely!

Did I feel just like a delightful kid in a candy shop?

The entire time!

Hence, we should all find ourselves watching how candy is made because then we have truly experienced time travel…even if just for a moment!

#wroclaw #poland #slodkieczarymary

Dessert to steal your heart…

I kid you not…we ate these divine ditties in the Square of Wroclaw while watching bubbles float over fountains and listening to a solo saxophone playing love songs with soulful perfection…

After that we walked across Saint Jadwiga’s bridge to board a small boat and travel the Odra, taking in every magical sight…

Before crossing the bridge of love to leave our mark with a lock…

I can recommend visiting so many places in Poland. But this one, Wroclaw, truly will steal your heart!

And then light it on fire at night with an actual lamp lighter, in full costume, walking the streets bringing them from darkness into night life…

All the while, church bells ring…

Would I recommend travel to Poland?

In a heartbeat!

Would I recommend Wroclaw?

Is the Pope Catholic???

Yes!

What’s it like living in Europe? Here are 10 things I’d like to share with you.

That’s a great question.  I am sure that every Expat American that lives in Europe has an opinion, how about I share mine?

I should start by sharing some information that will give you background information about me.

1.  I am from the desert of Arizona. Hot.  Dry.  Beautiful.  3rd Generation born in Arizona.  For Europe, 3rd generation born in one area could be a small joke===but, in the States, that’s quite the accomplishment!

2.  We moved to Poland in 2001.  That’s 12 years after the Berlin Wall was opened.  When we first arrived in Poland, we did not get to travel freely within Europe even though the Wall had fallen.  There were still two border crossings to go West.  We had to stop at the Polish border and allow for Polish border guards to rifle through all of our luggage.  Then we had to do the same thing as we entered Germany.  Sometimes border crossing took 3 hours.  And, yes, we saw many people escorted off of the trains with their passports.

Another fact:  American or other Western European Countries’ Passports were very hot commodities often stolen or sold.  If you had a passport that allowed easier travel, then you had more opportunities for work.  We have known people that have bought illegal passports, been caught using them in varying countries to try and find work, and have found themselves in prison because of this.

You should know the majority of the people that participated in these crimes were people with the best intentions—people looking to work.  Work hard.  And save so that they could send money to their families.    It doesn’t make it right—but after living in what was once a country with unemployment raging in some cities at the extremes of 20-40% (in the days when we first arrived), I did have great compassion on those that simply wanted to find work.

*Again—I do not condone illegal measures, I am just sharing facts*

3.  We came without knowing anything but “Byc or not byc.” Which is the funny way to say in half Polish/half English the phrase “To be or not to be…” I think you probably need to speak Polish to giggle at this one.

Anyhow, since we came to Poland without any Polish during a time when hardly anyone spoke English, we lived a life of loud words with lots of hand gesturing and crazy facial expressions or animal sounds to get what we wanted.

For example, if we wanted some beef but didn’t see any behind the butcher counter, we would say, “Czy Pani ma MOO?” (Do you, Ma’am, have any MOO?)

You would think we would attract a whole lot more smiles, but we did move to an Eastern European country, so we mostly just got blank stares 😉

Figuring out everything from how to ride a tram, to buy a train ticket, to shop for milk—everything was extreme amounts of work. We are so thankful we had friends to help lead us along the way. The rest of the time we just suffered humiliation at attempts on our own.

Well, without further can’t hardly sit still in anticipation, ready to read it…Here is my Top 10 List of What It’s Like to Live in Europe as an Expat American:

I will go backwards from 10 to 1.  But please know that I do not succeed at all 10 of these.

10.  Grocery Shopping.

Bring extra money to buy your grocery bag!

Oh, and don’t forget to pack your own groceries, QUICKLY!  As fast as the grocer is throwing them at you, separate and shove into the bags you just bought (unless you are amazingly fantastic at always having extra plastic shopping bags with you).

And never forget your coin for the use of the shopping cart.  Otherwise your arms spilleth over or fall to the floor.  Depending on whether the grocery store HAS a spare basket for you to use (a carry one) or not (some don’t).  So NEVER…and I repeat NEVER…forget your coin to use the grocery cart.

Okay—shopping ALL around is quite the experience.  It’s not for the faint of heart.

Funny labels, different foods, small stores, personal packing, plastic bag buying, grocery cart renting experience.  When I got to the States and started to pack my own groceries the “bagger” was a little upset that I was taking over his job.  Oops.  Habits are hard to hand over.

In the end, I am a rather fast separator, packer, and general bag buyer (I guess I have only accomplished 2 of the 3 needed grocery skills in Europe—I still end up buying a bag EVERY SINGLE TIME).

But, in the end, I have mastered grocery shopping and, therefore, my family eats in Europe.  Phew.

9.  Know how and make your own jam, pickles, pickled items, fresh bread, sausage, and borscht!

You will learn to love cabbage, mushrooms, beets, and repeat.  On top of that, sweet pickles will be considered an unhealthy treat while salted pickles will be what’s good for you!

In other words, your bread will only last a day, you will eat loads of cheese, and your palette will greatly change yet increase!

Bring on the snails, please!  And pickled herring.  Oh, and where is the blood sausage?  Yes!  Put it on top of bulgar wheat.  And, no, not that white cheese—the blah blah blah fancy one over there.

In fact, as long as there are potatoes, wheat, and cabbage in Europe, everyone on this continent will survive.  Oh, along with dill.

It’s a continent of culinary genius!  For sure.  And I L.O.V.E. eating here.

Smacznego!

8.  Dress like you meant to wear it!  And then walk like you mean it.

Seriously, Europeans are so fashionable.  But, and here’s the secret.  They have stockings, funky shoes, scarves, sometimes hats, skinny jeans, and second-hand skirts and throw it all together with a little bit of mascara and a few accessories, looking like fashionistas.

My husband and daughter are amazing Europeans.  Disclaimer—neither are European.  But they put on clothes daily (So now you know that they are REALLY not European.  Smile and wink kind of joke) and voile!  They look amazing.

My daughter wears whatever shoes she wants with short skirts and leggings and then a sweater and allows for her hair to blow in the breeze.  Then she boldly walks to school and smiles.  She is gorgeous and natural and looks like she belongs.

My husband accessorizes his outfits with a fitted sports coat and the right belt, throwing a scarf around his neck and grabbing his leather work satchel when he leaves.  It’s as if GQ dressed him for a photo shoot.

Then there’s me.  For some reason, my love affair with my flip flops prevent me from accessorizing properly.  Therefore, I will remain the staunchly proud American and take gorgeous photos of the European fashionistas that reside under my same roof.

Even my 2 and 1 year olds are already rocking the right shoes, hair, and fedora hats.

I’m glad that when we’re out in public, there only appears to be one tourist in the group—that’s ME!

No, seriously.  If you want my advice:  throw it on and wear it boldly and proudly!  Wear less makeup!  And allow your hair to flow naturally.

Pair that with leather shoes and just the right hat, and there you have it!

You’ll do really well in Europe.

7.  Be Quiet.

No, seriously.  Be quiet.  Unless there is a football game on television, a festival going on in town, or a really drunk singing German nearby (no offense, Germans), be quiet.

This day to day life of walking and shopping and talking and playing is VERY quiet.

I walk outside and the birds fly away.  I am pretty sure that I scare most every European on the continent the minute I walk out the door.

My American voice soars the clouds.

My daughter hides.  My husband shushes me.  My small ones are the only ones that smile.  They still don’t know any better.

Perhaps it’s because Europe is considered the civilized people while we Americans are the wild outlaws.  Who knows?

But my daughter tells me often that I am too boisterous for this nation.

She is right.  But as long as they accept my volume I’ll try and overlook their staring.

So, shall we call it a tie?

Europeans chime in with a probable “No!”  But, if you are American, you hold your ground.  Because if there is one thing America has taught you, it’s how to stay strong.

Actually, that’s a fantastic trait of both countries/continents.  I just voice my strength in a louder volume, causing my daughter and husband to run for the forest where they will then find everyone in Poland on a peaceful family walk.  In silence.

It’s true.

But don’t worry—I’m used to it.  I’m just not sure it is mutual.

6.  Appreciate the old.

There is nothing more beautiful than the old.  When I was in the States, I walked or drove in awe at all of the shiny and new.  It was beautiful.  And I loved every moment.  But there were times when I was looking for the cobblestones or the old homes or the buildings with ivy crawling.

I was looking for the chimneys blowing smoke and the cracks in the walls.

There is nothing wrong with shiny America, but there is something surreally stunning about lovely and lived in.  Quaint.  And peaceful.

And the castles.  Now, mind you, there is a palace or a castle like every 15 minutes, so my daughter told me in the car the other day, “WHY do you have to point out the window ALL THE TIME?!”  Apparently the thrill of a castle or palace does not resonant as strongly when a child grows up in this culture.  But to the never-ending foreigner—ME—I LOVE the turrets I see around every bend!

In the end, America will always be the far younger and shinier cousin country.  And Europe the elegant, older family member.

My vote will always be:  Arizona Deserts 1; Polish architecture 1.  TIE!

The weather, of course, sends it from a draw to an Arizona win.  But that’s just my opinion.

And, since we are mostly talking about architecture, I would have to ultimately say that Europe and its history of brilliant places and buildings takes the cake.

So, who wins?  I don’t know.  Perhaps it’s up to each individual to judge that one.

5.  Shop Europe!

My daughter got so frustrated when we were in the United States.  She began looking at EVERY item and would proclaim, “WHY IS EVERYTHING FROM CHINA?”

She was proud to be in America but very sad that she could hardly find anything at all that was truly American.

In Europe, however, even though products from China are slowly creeping into stores, you will overall find most items proudly made in Europe.

America, take a hint!

4.  Drink REAL Coffee.  Not brown water!

My husband and I were in the United States when we asked for some coffee at a restaurant.  The server brought us brown water.  We tasted it and thought, “What did we do to deserve such torture?!”

It was disgusting.

To be fair, we had not been in the States for many years at that point, so we had forgotten that brown water in the States is what they refer to as “Coffee”.

Coffee my foot!

You get better coffee at the gas station in Italy then you get at most places in the United States.

Just saying—weak, cheap, and flavorless brown water is not coffee.  America, take this lesson from Europe.  Stronger is better.

And it will definitely MAKE YOUR DAY!

3.  Prepare for the onslaught of Tourists.  And, no, they are NOT all Americans.

Europeans are GREAT European travelers.  But, if you think about it, it makes SENSE!  Europe is geographically not the largest continent.  Yet is has a million and one countries.  Therefore, to go on vacation, you can cross two borders in one day.

I think that we often believe as Americans that we are the only tourists in Europe.  We’re not.

And, don’t let the Europeans give you a hard time about speaking English.  Because, guess what.  When they cross the borders for their vacations, they generally have to speak English in their country destinations, too.

But—and these are what I wouldn’t mind most American tourists hearing loud and clear—don’t be rude and obnoxious and demanding.  And DON’T put down America at every conversation with a foreigner.

There are a whole lotta countries in the world.  No one knows them all.  So no need to apologize for your desire to travel the world and yet LEARN about it while you travel.

That’s okay.  And, when all is said and done, after you are home, you will know more because you were there.

Come and enjoy Europe.  You’ll leave with a new zeal and zest for life after you do.

And definitely come to Poland.  It is, in my opinion, one of the greatest countries you could ever experience!  No joke.  And see you here soon.

2.  Kissing is Good!

Just come prepared to kiss.  Many and multiple times.  Do not be shy.  And carry breath mints.

I have not met a European yet that does not greet with lovely kisses.  On the cheeks.  1, 2, 3 times or more!

Some, depending on the celebration, on the lips!

Yummy!

So, come to Europe and pucker up, for you will get kissed.

1. Climb the Stairs!

As much as they are constantly renovating and revamping, Europe is one big castle.  Lots of cobblestone.  Lots of small streets.  Lots of stairs.

And very tall buildings.  Without elevators or escalators.

But with stairs.

Our office is on the 3rd floor.  I think nothing of it when I grab my bag, my lunch, my coffee and hike the stairs.

But, when I am in the States, to even go to the 2nd floor of a building, I head over to the elevator and wait.

And while I wait for the elevator, I could have walked up and down the stairs a couple of times.  Yet I still wait.  And wait.  And wait.  And wait.

Yep!  As active as America is, we are still, in the day in and day out activities, still rather inactive.

Like driving to school or the grocery store.  When, technically, they are but a 10-20 minute walk away.

What’s it like living in Europe?

It’s one big walk.

And we like it that way!

How about you?  Are you an expat American living in Europe or perhaps another country?  What do you agree with?  Disagree with?  Please share!

Giggle. What are these?

My daughter can read in Polish.  Therefore, it’s not the words on the label that threw her off this evening as she went grocery shopping with me.

But what happened was so cute.  We were walking down the aisle while I was checking my grocery list.  When we came where I needed to stop, my daughter giggled and asked, “What are those?!”

I looked at what drew such curious giggling from my daughter and began giggling on my own.

Glancing at her innocent, adorable face and said, “They’re eggs!”

“But they’re white,” she proclaimed.

“Why, yes they are.  Yes, they are.”

Far, far away from the land famous for white eggs, aka America, white eggs here in Poland are a novelty not quite known how to be perceived.

I LOVE MY GAL!

And to top off the trip, she wore an ace bandage on her hand and wrapped her arm in her scarf like a sling.

Just because.

She also threw on her high-heeled (for a 9-year-old) turquoise shoes with no socks.  Believe me—it’s cold outside.

And off we went.  To the grocery store together.

Where she, my precious Adelyne, discovered white eggs.

And where we, mother and daughter, both left with the giggles!

Murder versus peeing on the side of the road?

So, many people wonder what it is like living in a foreign country.

Today will be a short post, and I will share it through the eyes of my 8-year-old.

We were on a mommy & daughter breakfast date when we pulled into McDonald’s parking lot. And, for some odd reason, she asked “Murders are rare, Mommy, right?”

I looked at her. At 8, children can’t be so easily dismissed, so, trying to gauge her thought process, I counter-asked, “Are you afraid of being murdered?”

“No,” she responded.

So I asked the question differently, “Are you afraid of being murdered in Poland or were you afraid in Arizona?”

“Arizona is scarier,” she said, “Poland is a nice country.”

And then she continued, and, like I said, it’s hard to follow the thought-process of an 8-year-old…

“But it’s dirtier. Like people pee on the sides of the buildings.”

Insert chuckle here.

You see, she has seen this take place countless times right outside of the very apartment she lived the first half of her life. And, well, and she pretty much sees it on a near daily basis still today: at the lake, at parks, in town.  So you have to give the 8 year old freedom to express her own thoughts.

Which brings me to this, since my 8-year-old brought it up, one day as we were driving down the road, my sister-in-law, Coralanne, Adelyne, and I saw a fat man literally peeing into the road.  Yes, I said “into” the road.

It made us think of Tommy Boy, the movie. And the instance where Chris Farley put on David Spade’s jacket and started singing, “Fat man in a little coat…” (or something along those lines)

Both my sister-in-law, Coralanne, and I started laughing and singing at the same time, “Fat man peeing on the side of the road!”

It’s one of Adelyne’s favorite songs to this day.

So, what’s it like living in a foreign country?  Well, if you can put up with a little extra public urination, it’s, in the words of Adelyne, “…a nice country!”

For which she is very, very glad to be living in once again.  Especially because here, in Poland, you probably won’t get murdered.

I wore my winter jacket and beanie in September. Yes. Everyone stared.

We moved to Poland September 8, 2001. We moved from Arizona. We packed what we thought were warm clothes. Turns out, warm clothes from Arizona are merely “thick” t-shirts.

We arrived and were freezing our tails off.

Seriously. It was raining. It was cold.

The heat wouldn’t turn on in our flat because the city controlled the heat in our flat and it was not yet deemed “cold” enough by the city to turn on the heat.

I was an Arizona Desert Rat. Instead of melting, I was living in an ice box gathering ice crystals.

I will never forget how cold I was.

I was so cold, I convinced my husband that we must run out and buy warm jackets.

It wasn’t even technically warm jacket season. After all, it was only September. Little did I know how cold November, December, and so forth would get if I was cold in September, eh?! To me it was already like Siberia.

We were off.  We went to buy winter jackets.  I found one.  Floor length and brown.  And a brown scarf.  And a brown hat.  And brown gloves.

I went all out.

I tell you, I was cold.

And then we went out.  Literally.  Out.  In public.  For all to see.

I was wrapped from head to toe in my beanie, my gloves, my scarf.  You could barely see my eyes.  But, worse than any of that was my jacket.  My floor-length, brown, winter jacket.

I was so toasty warm.  And it was evening.  And we decided to walk to the city square.

Oh, tears are in my eyes right now recalling the numerous stares and mumblings we got as I walked around all wrapped like an Eskimo, yet technically still living in Polish summer.  So funny.

Ah…memories of when we first arrived in Poland.  And although I laugh now, I know then I was freezing.  To my bone freezing.

Oh, I forgot to mention how cold it was.

About 60+F (around 16C).

To a desert rat, 60F is akin to the North Pole.  And that is where I felt we lived.

Needless to say, my jacket and I really learned what cold was when actual winter hit.  And then I dreamed about the return of those “warm” Polish evenings.

Haha.

I hope that there are folks still enjoying the attack of the mummy at their dinnertime conversation.

In any case, with time, I learned how to actually dress appropriately for the weather.  And eventually I learned that September was not the right time to run around in floor-length jackets, gloves, scarves, and beanies, with only your eyes peeking through.

But, even after all of these years in Poland, I am still that same desert rat, freezing and cold.  Just better adjusted for the weather.

Now, here are the TOP 10 most read posts this past year as And 2 Makes Crazy celebrates its one-year blog-o-versary.   If you haven’t read one of the following posts, I hope that you go on back and have a read.

Enjoy.

xoxo from here to there,

b

(Top 10 from the entire blogging year in order of Most Read)

1.  I don’t love Jesus.  Can we still be friends?  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-ln

2.  How to be a Good Wife.  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-ue

3.  Knockdown, drag-out fight in Costco.  Today, I appreciate family!  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-Mo

4.  Marital Un-Bliss and Lack of Sleep had a devastating Effect on My Eyebrows.  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-3i

5.  Belly Josephine.  And my Ada and Max.  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-gp

6.  How to Keep the Romance Alive.  Or Kill It.  Your Hair May Choose.  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-50

7.  My Nose Ring was “Snot” a Good Idea.  And We Got a Puppy.  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-6B

8.  Porn on Sunday.  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-ww

9.  O-M-G, Christians, watch what you say.  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-rZ

10.  Hidden Bookshelves:  Poland.  And when we first arrived.  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-da

And because it is always interesting to see which one comes in 11th…

11.  Raising a Nutty Kid.  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-wT

 

 

Oh, heaven forbid. Don’t make me speak English!

I really try to be kind and courteous and real and friendly, but I have this problem.  And it’s called my mouth.

It gets me every time.

I am talking all the time.  Day and Night.  Even when I am sleeping.  It gets me there, too, because I even talk in my sleep.

So, this is what happened.  The other day I was at the grocery store in Gniezno.

It’s a rather large grocery store.  It’s a French chain, I believe.  So now I don’t know whether to blame the French grocery chain or the Gniezno store owner on this one…BUT…someone decided at this rather large grocery store to implement a one-line rule where everyone lines up in a single file line to wait for the next available cashier.

The idea isn’t bad—IF—it was a small store with few customers.  But this is a huge and busy grocery store.  It’s like we all line up as if to go through the cattle gate — our grocery carts and kids overflowing down to the chips and liquids aisle.  Imagine trying to get into a busy sporting event with kids and a grocery cart to boot.  It’s utterly ridiculous.

Yet, it’s what we all must do, and I am the one that chose to shop at that store, so I got in line.

One woman—out of the 30+ of us in line decided that as long as her cart was in line, she would keep shopping.

Duh, lady.  Don’t you think we would ALL love to do this?!

Well, her cart was there but the line was moving forward.  So, of course, there was a huge gap in front of her cart and the other customers in front of her.

Who was foolishly the customer/shopper behind this thoughtless lady?

Hand in the air.  ME!

But what happens with this huge gap of air space and the missing cart lady?  Why 3 new customers come along and hop in line.

The lady comes running back to her cart and says she was there.

Um.  No, technically you weren’t.  I am just a patient person and was waiting for you to move forward.

Fool count 1.

Well, after some exchanged words, she is defeated and now stuck behind 3 more people.  But that’s okay, because she goes back to shopping.

Air space yet again.  Because there is this thing called checking out and people do pay for groceries and lines do move forward in the grocery store.  But where is this random shopper lady?

MIA, Missing in Action, yet again.

And again, I foolishly wait for her to find her cart and push it forward.

Fool count 2.

Finally on Fool count 3, when there is a mile of space between her cart and the cutting customers in front of her and the MIA shopper, I take my cart and go in front of her cart.

Boy howdy!  You would think that this woman had a cart radar or something.  No sooner did I put my cart in front of hers did I then see her come screeching at me, yelling, “THAT’S my space!  I was there in line.”

Now, because I am a very mature 38-year-old mother of 3, I of course engaged in her argument, (in Polish), “No, ma’am.  You were not here.  And, this is the 3rd time that you have not been here.  This was free space.”  Yes, my Polish is lacking, so this is basically what I said.  Not so intimidating but enough to let her know it’s not okay.

Ooooh, boy!  She was steaming mad!  And kept yelling at me how she was there.  So, again, I engaged in this civil thing we were having (NOT) called a conversation.

“No, Ma’am, you were not here.  Again, 3 times you have left and gone shopping.  YOU WERE NOT HERE.  This was a free space.”

Yes, I am a Polish force (smile and wink).

And, yet again, she flew off of the handle yelling at me.  Imagine, “Yadda, yadda, yadda!”

There, lady.  You went and did it.  You brought out my English!  And I started in again—this time in my Mother Tongue…

“No!  You were not here!  This is ridiculous.  For 3 times you have left your cart to go shopping…(insert more)…This is not okay!”

After the shock wore off that I was no longer conversing with her in Polish, the entire line of people started to speak up, the lady that was now in front of the both of us turned around and said, “No, you weren’t here (in Polish).  You can’t keep leaving and shopping.”  The person in front of the lady in front of the lady spoke up.  The husband of one of the ladies spoke up.  And this fiery MIA shopper just kept getting louder.

It’s a good thing we were in a French grocery store.  This small riot didn’t seem out of place, eh?!  Haha.

Anyhow, after I started this small riot of vocalities, I realized that this lady was going to continue to throw her fit, so I pulled my cart out of line and let her go back in front of me, which she eagerly took and moved forward.

But, let me just say—she DID NOT leave her spot again.

And the check-out lady was super nice to me, too.  Nice or scared?  I don’t know which.

Oooooops.

So much for showing the love of Jesus at the grocery store that day.

Homeschooling is not for the weak. Or faint of heart.

I am not a homeschooling mom, and, yet, here (in Poland) I find myself just that—a homeschooling mom. Or, as I call it, an English instructor for my own child.

Problem, you see. Or should I say, “Problems…”?

My daughter knows it all. Well, at least that’s what she tells me with every lesson I sit down to instruct 😉

Okay, okay. She’s not that bad.  All the time.  The other part, it pretty much goes like that.

And, ironically, I have taught for about 8 years in actual schools.  Teaching over 250 students (middle school and elementary school).  You would think that would give me a bit o’ cred, but it doesn’t.

Sigh.

Funny thing, too.  It doesn’t matter if you are preparing a day’s lesson for 1 student or 30 students, it still takes the same amount of time.  Realizing that once again.  Yikes.  It’s called lots o’ work.

Homeschooling, it’s not my cup of java, but it’s where I find myself in life.  And we are surviving.  Decently well, too, I must add.  I must, however, reiterate…Homeschooling is not for the faint.  It’s not for the weak.  It’s not for the pushover.  Boy howdy…homeschooling is for the tough mother!

And, sometimes, I think I need to get tougher, but we’re off to a good start!  Well, at least we’re off to a start.

I’ve got to be thankful to God that I have a good student.  Even if she knows everything (smile and wink).

Student:  Adelyne

Age:  8

Grade that she is starting this 2014-2015 school year:  3

Years of School in Poland:  Preschool (2 years, 1/2 of a year taught by her Momma), Kindergarten (1 year), 1st Grade (1/2 a year)

Years of School in Arizona, USA:  1st Grade (2nd half), 2nd Grade (from start to finish)

Book she is currently reading:  Remarkable by Lizzie K. Foley

So, along the way of instructing my child at home, I am learning the ins and outs of HOW MUCH I appreciate teachers.  When I taught, it was easy for me to correct a student’s work and hand it back to him or her with correction and tell them to watch for future mistakes.  With my own, it’s like pulling teeth trying to get her to believe me that, despite the sound of it, goes is spelled G-O-E-S and not gose.  If I was her teacher in America, I’d tell or show her once, she’d sit with wide eyes and a nodding head, and then she’d try with all her might not to do it again.  Perhaps I am exaggerating a bit, but she did constantly tell me, “Mrs. Boyd knows EVERYTHING!”  I loved her teachers in America.

Alas, we are not in America, so I am doing my best to do right by my Ada Girl and learn her her English abroad.  Oh my, you may shake your head and grunt…

But, overall, I think she is doing well.  I am trying.  She is trying.  We are surviving.  Our last unit was Ramona the Pest.  Our next is Arizona.  After that it’s Storks in Poland.  And, of course, she’ll have her quizzes and reviews and book report on Remarkable when she’s done with that.  Halfway through as we speak and reading it on the couch right now.

Really, it is fun.

In the meantime, I need to figure out how to throw spelling tests in the midst of all of this.

Oh, and she does learn Polish and French outside of my classroom—phew!  I don’t think I would do the best job of those here.  Haha!

Enjoy the photos, and look below for comments on ideas, frustrations, or web sites I used along the way.

We are working on writing, obviously.  And what’s more fun than writing letters hoping that friends write back?!  And it is a good way for me to gauge her spelling along the way, as well as her grammar usage.  Like, “Every day me and my family go swimming in the lake…”  I was able to tell her that if she dropped “family” how does, “me go swimming in the lake” sound?!  She thought that was pretty funny.  I did too.

With Ramona the Pest, there are a million study guides out there, so I found a couple I liked and combined them.  Here are a couple of her comprehension questions from the book and answers.  She also tested on the book at the end on this site:  Book Adventure.  Since we can’t AR Test from home, we simply use the AR Book Finder to figure out the grade level they assign the books and the words in the books.  We keep a separate book for Adelyne that keeps track of that information.  Then, if the book is on the above site, she takes the final comprehension test on it.  It has quite a few tests.  So I am pleased.  To date she has read over 100,000 words and counting.  She’s my little reader.  I especially like how the above site (Book Adventure) keeps track of the tests she does take.  That’s nice for sure!

For vocabulary, I used several words suggested in one study.  I had her look up their definitions all high tech style and all (on the computer—Merriam-Webster online).  She had to figure out which definition was used in the book, the part of speech it was, and then rewrite the definition in her own words.  It was a bit hard, the last part.  But then she was able to choose 3 of the vocabulary words and use them correctly in sentences of her own.  So even though defining them in her own words was hard, at least I could see that she understood their meanings when she wrote her sentences.

Instead of writing a formal book report at the end of her book, she chose to make a game.  Here is the final result…Well, nearly the final result.  You’ll see us playing the game in a minute.  Her game had to be centered around the book.  Her characters/game pieces were characters from the book:  Howie, Danny, Ramona, Beezus, and Susan.  Her cards for moving were based on questions she came up with from the book, and her board centered around one of the activities from the book:  Halloween.  She had to create rules for the game that made sense.  This got frustrating as she wanted to skimp out on creating true rules.  After we both pulled our hair, she came up with 4 rules, and she had to pre-write them, edit her mistakes, and rewrite them in NICE handwriting.  Sometimes it is very hard being a mommy-teacher.  But she did it, and she did a fantastic job!  I guess it’s hard being a daughter-student, too.

Here are the rules and game pieces:

And, finally, here we are playing the game.  It was actually very fun.  We did have to add a few more move forward cards while playing.  Overall, however, it was a great first success and you could tell she read and understood the book.  Just FYI, the game that she made took about 20-25 minutes for 3 of us to play when the babies (our 2-year-old and 6-month old) were in bed.  It was a great end of the evening for sure!

Hope you enjoyed the unit and maybe picked up a few ideas for your own school at home!

In the meantime, I have most definitely been reminded how hard homeschooling is.  Yikes.  Like I said, it’s not for the faint of heart.  But I do look forward to our next unit which will include more social studies and science bits and pieces.

I’ll keep you updated as we go…

A post about cooking in Poland will follow.  But not for a few days, as we head to the oldest Polish city this weekend as we join them for church there.  Where’s that, you may ask.  Why KALISZ!

Perhaps Adelyne will do a unit on that, too.

Oh, and we (Ada and I) are about to embark on writing and illustrating a book together.  Can’t wait for that unit, too.

Much love for now.  And, as Maxwell (the 2-year-old) would say, as he has learned in French, “A-be-ben-to!”  (Also known to the rest of you as “A bientot!”)

See you later…And, please, leave ideas and comments below on how to help this mother out 😉

Big kisses (3 for Poland) and an American hug (from me)!

 

When I was electrocuted…and Adelyne made banana muffins.

I was 10 weeks pregnant with Adelyne when Richard and I were working one really late night out at the New Life Center. We had just purchased the property, and it needed a completely new deck.  The old deck was basically non existent.  Which means, the framework was there, but the walkway was dangerous planks placed strategically one next to each other.  And believe me when I say, if you fell off the plank, you were fed to the sharks…or the spiders and other spooky stuff that lived under the porch.  It was a true walk the gangplank challenge.  And, in order to open a transitional home for men, there definitely needed to be something other than gangplanks to walk.

If you want to see the NLC and the porch, click on the link above (the highlighted New Life Center) and look at the blue house and you’ll immediately see the porch.

Okay, back to my story.  So, at 10 weeks pregnant, Richard and I were out there working really late one Polish summer, building the deck.  It was quite a dangerous job, and we were basically working off of the day’s light or the waning sun’s light.  Just as we finished one part of the deck, we prepared to move to another section to work on when I saw a dangling wire.

Now, mind you, I am not a daft person, but this was definitely not one of my most defining Einstein moments of my life.  I decided to loop this dangling wire and hang it from a nail that was protruding from the nearby pillar.  I thought, “Oh, great idea, Brooke, I’ll get that dangling wire out of the way.”

Oh, bad idea, Brooke.  As soon as I touched the exposed wire to move it, not realizing it was live, 220 volts went shock, right through my body!

Yowzer!  It hurt.  Yes, it did.  But I got back to work.  And many hours later with lots of help, that deck was finally finished.  Just one small step in the process of making the home that we purchased into the perfect transitional center.  Don’t get me started on all of those bags of cement I also had to go and purchase and carry—yes, while pregnant.  And the sewage that needed to be cleaned (um…after basically telling Richard that I would clean the sewage filter rocks, even though I was pregnant, he finally jumped in and got the job done)…

Needless to say, every single ounce of effort was so worth it.  To see how God transforms the lives of the men that go through the center and its program is astounding.

And, today, as several of the participants from the New Life Center were at our house (our personal house), Adelyne, that same little baby that was in my belly when I was electrocuted 8 years ago, was using electricity.

This time to make muffins.  Muffins for the men from the New Life Center.

It’s funny how God works.  Eight years ago, I would have never thought my electrocuted baby belly would be using some of that same 220 to bake for the men that live in the home of the porch that she, in my belly, helped build.

Walking the planks was worth it…And I love that my daughter continues to walk them with me.

Tell me, what did you do in your past that continues to be a big part of your life today?  I look forward to hearing from you!

 

“Do Not Disterb!” Instead give Elmo a hair cut.

I saw this sign lying on the floor in my daughter’s room. Apparently, she could not find tape. It’s no wonder. My house remains an utter disaster. It’s not dirty…it’s just boxes of stuff. Stuff to keep and find a place for. Stuff to give to anyone that would like it (not junk—no one needs more junk-stuff like nice blankets or jeans that I haven’t slipped into for, um, 8 years or so). And designated stuff to pass on to other ladies having girl or boy babies.

I gotta get rid of this stuff. It resides in my hallway that is approximately 2 and 1/2 to 3 feet wide.

These boxes rule our roost right now. How I wish they could sprout legs—because I definitely feel like showing them Adelyne’s sign, “Do not disterb”! By the way, isn’t that the cutest thing. E is the appropriate sound for the word. Tricky English. Or do you hear the “ur” sound? Tricky ears!

In the meantime, besides the boxes, Maxwell has taken to smearing his poop all over his walls, mattress, bed, and stuffed animals in bed with him.

Elmo, his favorite, is electronic and really fun and educational. Well, of course he is, he is Elmo after all. And since he is all fancy, I had to give Elmo a bath with a washcloth. But there was some stubborn poop in there, so Elmo also ended up with a hair cut.

Speaking of Maxwell, we also got this awesome and bright shagadelic turquoise carpet. Yep. Total 70s love, Baby. And Maxwell. Ah, Maxwell, my 2-year-old love…Maxwell has fallen in love with our game closet. And Hi Ho Cheery-O! Let me just say, flower power to our carpet—but headache to the momma that chose it. What was I thinking? I have combed the carpet all day and still haven’t found all of the cherries. Thankfully at random times I step on something and try to keep my foot perfectly still, bending down, and start combing through 1 inch of shag to try and find that darn cherry game piece! See, this is why I have always tried to avoid trendy. I get what I deserve, I suppose. The good news is that Josephine can’t find them either. So no choking hazard in our home (for the moment).

Speaking of pooping.

Oh, you weren’t?  Well, I have two in diapers 😉

Anyhow, Josephine has started eating solid foods more and more.  This is a big deal in our home.  She eats her cream of wheat in the mornings and then has some sort of typical Polish obiad in the afternoon—she is going to turn into a posh lil’ ol’ baby.  Her choices for lunch yesterday and today:  Salmon yesterday; Veal today.  Oooh, lala, JoJo.  The rest of us were eating sandwiches.

But can I honestly say—baby salmon?!  Gag!  Stinky, stinky, stinky!  I hope she grows up smart because we are all gagging over here while she eats (smile and wink). #omegafoods

Now, back to speaking about Josephine (don’t worry, I won’t get into the fact that she’s turning into a solid pooping machine with all of this new food), instead I will tell you that people at the lake love her.  She is this big, smiling thing that just radiates joy.  And she is always waving her arms up and down and cooing at everyone.  So, I guess this means that complete strangers have the right to come and touch her?  I don’t know—I don’t seem to touch random people’s kids.  I mean, I may stop and talk to your kid with smiles, etc., but I don’t touch their faces and hands, and stuff.  Josephine never minds.  It’s mostly mommy and daddy that have the problem with it.  #welcometoadifferentculture

Speaking of random people touching your kid, there have been two incidences, count them 1-2, at the lake when random strangers have literally PICKED Maxwell up.  Let me explain.  You see, one of us will be swimming with Adelyne in the lake while the other is manning the two babies.  Which means that Max is usually getting water by the bucket for sand play and JoJo is either splashing in the water or also playing in the sand.  And when I say Josephine is playing in the sand, that means Josephine is eating the sand.  In any case, there is always one parent watching Max and Josephine.  But I guess that doesn’t count.  Because on two separate occasions, someone has literally gone out into the lake and picked Maxwell up.

“Ummm…excuse me?  Parent of Maxwell here.  You know, the kid you are randomly picking up because you fear for his safety.  Yep, pretty sure we are watching him closely.  You know, it’s this bad habit we have called parenting.  But it doesn’t mean that we have to touch him on every occasion or hold his hand while he scoops water into his bucket.” #mykidnotyours

Speaking of Adelyne (kind-of, more in reference to her at the lake), Richard and I worried so much before we left America for her return to Poland.  Adelyne had the most amazing year and a half in the States.  We were literally sick to our stomachs to take her away from her family and school and friends and return her to Poland.  Sometimes I think we as parents worry more about our kids…But she did have one day about a week into moving back to Poland where she sat on my lap and said, “I don’t know why I am crying.  I am just so sad.”

And my heart broke for her.  #iunderstandadelynemetoo

But, alas, one month in, she is very happy to be back in Poland.  My heart…and her daddy’s heart…are more settled for her.  She has her best friend, Wiki, back, and she has started both French and Polish lessons.  French lessons are with her brother.  She is so happy and even lets him call it “Max’s school”.  #threelanguages #mommyneedstostilllearnpolish

Oh, my dear friends, there is still so much more to say…But for now I will sign off and save the rest for another time.

So much fun moving back to a different culture!

Pa for now…I’ve got pickles to go and make (I’ll let you know how they turn out).

xoxo

b