Ni Hao, y'all!

Looking back at my adventures in Europe got me thinking. I am still relatively young and adventurous (OK..maybe not young...but I definitely enjoy trying new things). My boys are like two hyperactive sponges...wanting to see and do it all. We don't have any commitments that keep us tied to living in Texas...so, what would it take to do it again? I want to see new things...try new foods...meet new people. In early February, I decided to see what options I had for finding overseas work. Turns out that people all over the world (except for here in the US) appreciate an American education. Good timing...because come springtime, a lot of American educators are not feeling very appreciated. Pressured to have our students perform well on state mandated tests, yes. Appreciated, not so much. Through a good friend who I respect immensely for her work in education, I found a company that offered just what I was looking for. Not only would the boys and I have adventures and opportunities unlike the States, but I would get paid to do it! Sign me up! Checking out the locations of their schools was a lesson in geography. I learned more about the "stans" of Central Asia than I thought possible. It wasn't hard to come up with a "hell no" and a "already packing my bags" list. Top of my list, Chengdu, China. I know you are thinking, why China? My answer...why not? True...I speak no Mandarin. True...I don't really like Chinese food (except for General Tso's chicken...which isn't even Chinese). But, if you know me, you know that I do not normally march to the same drum as everyone else. So...for that reason, sometime in August the boys and I will board a plane and take a 14 hour flight to Chengdu...home of the Giant Panda and the setting of our future adventures. On my checklist of things to do while in Chengdu: hugging a panda (duh!), getting a $6 90-minute foot massage, eating a fried bug on a stick (everything is better on a stick), and learning the difference between ma, ma, ma, and ma. Stay tuned! Zaijian

Can't we just throw them away?

As a mom, I hold many hats...cheerleader, referree, psychologist, doctor, chef, and now, to add to the fun, Tooth Fairy. I kept searching when my son lost his first tooth for the manual on tooth etiquette, but alas, it could not be found. The first question, "How much is one tooth worth?" I don't want the tooth fairy to come off as cheap...but, we're in for ten more years times two. I don't want the tooth fairy to go bankrupt. Then, there is the problem of the switch. Having two boys sharing the same room, not only do I have to wait for one to fall asleep, I have to wait for two. This sometimes means staying up WAY past my bedtime.

Did you know that legos really hurt when you step on one barefoot? And, it's even harder not to cry out loud when stepping on said lego? My parent hood training failed to cover proper footwear for impersonating make believe persona.

Job done...money placed (I learned that four quarters is NOT the same as a dollar bill in the mind of a seven year old. The seven year old wants quantity, not quality). The last question arises. What exactly am I supposed to do with the collected teeth? Make a little tooth necklace? Creepy....Keep them locked away in a little box...for what? I'm guessing they do not make a suitable wedding present. Something borrowed? Something blue? Something strange?

Ciao' for now!

Is breá liom na hÉireann

I'm a surfer. Not the water kind (that will come if we ever get stationed in Hawaii). So one day in late December, I was checking out flight prices on Ryanair. I came across super cheap flights from Milan to Dublin. I've ALWAYS wanted to go to Dublin. I called up the hubby to see if he was on board. After I confirmed that yes, Dublin was the home of both Guinness and leprechauns, he was ready to pack his bags. Since bar hopping is not recommended for 5 and 7 year olds, we figured we would let them home and just enjoy some adult time. We decided to invite friends of ours along, and make it a couples weekend.

I have heard mixed reports about Ryanair. I was prepared on the luggage part. I packed lighter than I did when we went backpacking through the Appalachian. Even though we didn't pay the extra 7Euro for preferred seating (we figured the 7euro/person X 2 airplane rides equaled at least 6 pints of Guinness), we still were able to sit next to each other on the plane. Since it was an early morning, we both catnapped for the three hour flight. Did you know that on Ryanair flights, they have a tape recording of cheering and clapping when the plane lands? At first I thought it innappropriate for a company to cheer landing. What would the recording be if the plane didn't land safely? Would they play the sounds of booing or at that point would it not matter what sounds they played? Turns out the recording was because the flight was ontime. Ryanair has some 99% on time record going.

After getting off the plane we hopped on a bus to head to the hotel. It was the oddest thing watching the cars driving on the wrong side of the road. I'm a pretty fearless driver (having lived in DC and Atlanta before coming to Italy), but that just looked insane. Traffic circles...mind boggling!

We checked into our fabulous hotel and hit the streets looking for a bite to eat. We found this cute Irish pub (quite a few in downtown Dublin), and enjoyed our first traditional Irish meal...hamburgers and french fries. Just kidding. I had fish and chips and AJ had some Irish stew. My friend ordered a Jameson and cranberry. She offered me a sip, and I was hooked. What a lovely beverage. And to think that cranberry juice is good for you! Bonus! For the rest of the weekend, it was Jameson all the way.

In the spirit of spirits, we visited the Jameson Distillery. While waiting for our tour, and in hopes of warming our bones (Ireland is freaking COLD), we sat down to an Irish Coffee. Irish really like their alcohol. They cook with it (guinness stew) and they put it in their coffee. Nothing like a shot of whiskey to warm you up. I can't say I learned a lot about how they make it (other than the fact that to the Irish, angels are a bunch of drunks....they say the alcohol that evaporates from the barrels as it's aged for the 5 to 12 years it sits is for the angels in heaven). I didn't learn much, but I can say I am now a fan.

Somewhat tipsy from our tour (never got tipsy touring Hershey's Chocolate Factory or Sturgis pretzels) because of course a sample of their finest 12 year whiskey was part of the tour, we headed out to see the town. We decided to hit the main pub street. It was heading towards evening, and the streets were filling with partygoers. Unlike the States where every place charges a cover, here the pubs were free to pop in. Aaaahhhh....the fabulous tunes of Ireland....wait...that isn't Irish folk music. That's the Cranberries, and James Taylor, and Meatloaf? If I wanted to hear American music, I could have saved my 48Euro and stayed in Italy! I came here to hear the Unicorn song (ya got your green alligators and your long necked geese....)! Finally, I couldn't take it any more. This guy was walking by who looked Irish (short, green skin, orange beard). I asked him if he knew of any pubs that actually played Irish music. He asked where we were from, to which we replied "Texas." His response, any other state in the USA, they say, USA. But not Texans. They always say "Texas"!

He said he'd happily take us to a real Irish pub...with Irish music and all. We were not disappointed. There were two guys sitting up front. One was playing a string something or other and the other guy played something else. (Or maybe it was four guys...not sure...too many Jamesons). After enjoying the music for a bit, we went upstairs where there was an open patio. Having donned lots of layers to stay warm, it had gotten a bit toasty in a room full of people. We sat and he told us about his job with the Irish Parliament. Oh...and get this...he has a kid in READING, PENNSYLVANIA!!!! Small world....so if you see any greenish looking little kids with little red beards running around Reading, it may be Ultam's! Of all the places in all the world our little leprechaun could have knocked someone up, it had to be Reading!

A little while later, this guy comes up to us and asks if we were American. Uh....duh! (J/K Scott). He joined us and told us about his adventures touring around Africa and Europe. The five of us just drooled with jealousy over his tales. It was such an awesome night...we just hung out and chatted and enjoyed the relaxation of it all. Paybacks were yet to come.

Well, it's late..I have plenty more to tell about Dublin, but that will have to wait until tomorrow.

Ciao' for now!

How do you say "Happy Thanksgiving" in Italian?

When our family gets togther for Thanksgiving, it is a huge event. There are usually no less than 30 people, and enough food to feed a small army. It has always been one of my favorite holidays (coming in a close second behind Halloween.) Luckily, I married a man who also loves Thanksgiving. So, no matter where we are, we do Thanksgiving up right. This year will be no different. The turkey has been bought, and my countertops are filled with the fixins for a feast. I've had to re-vamp some of my menu, as some things are impossible to find over here. Family in the States have shipped the Copes Corn (Thanksgiving wouldn't be complete without it), but the orange sherbet for my Grammy's orange salad recipe is impossible to find, and impossible to ship. So...no glop.

From growing up in our family, Thanksgiving dinner is not a meal meant to enjoy in small groups. With that in mind, we have invited some of my husband's soldier-friends, and also an Italian family who own a restaurant that we frequently visit. The family sort of adopted my husband while I was home this summer with our boys. Without them, my husband may have starved. I'm very excited to have them come, as this will be their first Thanksgiving dinner. But last night, I had a bit of an anxiety attack as I considered the fact that I was preparing a meal for a chef. Not just a meal...but an unfamiliar one. Do Italians do mashed potatoes? I'm kind of thinking it's not a bad thing that orange sherbet doesn't exist here, because what would they think of the neon orange salad that our family devours? Then again, while dining there last night, the chef brought out to us a plate that had a variety of sliced fresh vegetables, and a small dish with a dipping sauce. He explained that it was pureed sardines and fresh garlic. I'm not saying it was bad, but I don't see myself every throwing sardines into a blender.

So, I have three days to prepare myself. I can do this. I'm just going to channel some of my aunt's energy and cooking wisdom. With a little luck, our Italian friends won't leave wondering why we Americans get so jazzed up over the fourth Thursday in November.

Ciao' for now!

He said what!?!?

I've really been into creating pottery. The Art Center on base has a fabulous studio and kiln. It's turned into my escape. I could sit for hours and sculpt and paint (I can't actually do this often because I'm usually not afforded the time, but after this week's flooding and extra days off of school and home with the boys, hubby booted me out of the house to catch a breather.)

I found out on one rainy day that my boys also enjoy going and "playing with clay." I'm fine with it, because they can be creative and messy all at the same time and I don't have to clean up clay all over my house.

In the beginning, I was a little concerned about my older son's work. It all had a sort of phalic appearance. He said they were cannons, but I think he was working out some Freudian issue. However, he is extremely adamant that they are not penises, so if you see any of his artwork when visiting Grandma's house, please don't say anything. And Grandma, he will expect to see his artwork proudly displayed when he comes to visit...and don't think of breaking it, cause he'll make another one....BIGGER and better.

And then there is my younger son. He also enjoyed sculpting. More than sculpting, he enjoyed socializing with the two young ladies who were there hand throwing on the wheel. He quickly made friends with them, and shared his mosquito pool that he was working on. (No, I didn't realize mosquitos enjoy swimming, either). When I bumped into the ladies today, sans children, the one told me that my younger son said something that totally cracked her up. This cannot be good, I thought. As he was getting off one of the stools in the workroom, he groaned as he was sliding down. She asked him if he was ok. To which he responded, "I squished my tenders." Then, just to clarify in case she was not aware of what "tenders" were, he matter-of-factly added, "Those are my balls."

Who knew the pottery room could be such a wonderful place for entertainment? I'm going back tomorrow!

It's gotta be said....

WARNING: The following may be offensive to some. I realize that I am over generalizing, but if you don't like it, stop reading. If you disagree, good...I like stirring things up.

I have come to a conclusion about the younger men (the twenty and thirty-somethings) of Italy. They fall into one of two categories: either smoking hot and manly or scrawny and girly.

Let's start with the guys that would be getting stuffed into lockers and trash cans if they were in the States. I'm not saying they look nerdy or gay...ok, maybe gay, but I am saying that there are not a lot of masculine qualities being exhibited. If one of these guys were on a scooter with a helmet, you could go 50/50 on whether or not it was a dude or a chick. Most of them are smaller than a 12 year old girl. We were at a shopping mall, and had a guy pass us wearing two pairs of jeans. One over top of the other. And the one on top couldn't have been more than a size six. I'm happy if I can squeeze into one pair of jeans, let alone two. And let's not even talk about what it would take for me to fit into a size six again.

When winter comes, it will be even harder to discern the guys from the gals. They'll be all bundled up in their uni-sex clothes, and the scarves will cover up the facial hair.

At first, I thought all Italian men were the size of middle school girls and wore purple. But then....there he was. His body was built like Michelangelo's David...chiseled and rock hard. He was the only man I had ever seen who could make a banana hammock (weenie bikini, speedo, whatever) look good. He was standing there by the side of the pool speaking Italian into his phone, so I knew he wasn't "one of ours."

It was then that I figured it out...there are a handful of amazingly gorgeous, well-built Italian men who have taken all of the men hormones for their culture, leaving only girly hormones for the other thousands of men.

Our Soldiers Are Coming Home

Dear Friends and Family,

This weekend, I watched a movie with my husband called "Restrepo." It is an independent film that is showing in select theaters throughout the States and will be coming out on DVD soon. If you would like to learn more about it, you can check it out at restrepothemovie.com.

The movie follows the soldiers from the unit my husband is currently assigned during their previous deployment to Afghanistan. These soldiers are doing another tour in Afghanistan, and are due to come home within the next few months.

I am embarassed to say, because as an Army wife, I should have understood what the deployments were like for the soldiers. But I truly had no idea. Restrepo opened my eyes. These soldiers spend a year living in tents and plywood structures. They sleep in the dirt. With their main outpost miles away, they eat MRE's day after day. These soldiers are not sitting in front of computers. Phone calls to loved ones may come monthly, if at all.

When the soldiers return, they will have with them only what they can carry in their rucksacks. Everything will be covered in dirt and grime from a year of rough living. The soldiers who have families here in Italy will return to warm meals and welcoming homes. But there are 75 soldiers in my husband's company who will return to an empty barracks room. With a few thousand soldiers returning in the next few months, our P/X (shopping area) will be sold out of many of the linens and bath items.

Our Family Readiness Group ( a group of wives and children of soldiers) is hoping to prepare the barracks rooms to provide a warmer welcome for these boys who have given so much of themselves. Back in August, we sent out a mailer to the parents of the soldiers in the States. We have received a lot of items, but we are still falling short.

If you have any desire to help make a soldier's homecoming more welcome, please send me an e-mail and I will give you an address. The military is providing sheets for the beds, and shower curtains for the showers. We would love to have towels, shower gel, and razors in their rooms. If there is anything else you would like to send, I'm sure it will be welcome. If you know of any groups that would be interested in helping out, please give them my name and e-mail address and I will contact them. I realize it's short notice, and I apologize for that. Seeing that movie was such an eye opening experience, and it compelled me to do something.

Thank you in advance!
Love to everyone!!!!
Ciao' for now!