Saturday, August 27, 2011

Budding Artist

Chalk on Blackboard, Sam Hanna

Monday, August 22, 2011


Yesterday my very own coach ran his first South American race, a marathon relay. He reminds me that it was his first race in two years, since Pete was born, because he is selfless like that and because among a myriad of 'races' we have run in the past few years, running races have not been on of them. Paul was asked to join the team of eight Brazilian runners by a gentleman he works with, who lovingly signed him up as "Gringo." They might be changing that to "Gringo's Got Wings!," now, but we'll see. Paul outran everyone on his team by at least ten minutes. When you love something, it will set you free and it does, freely down the Esplanade in Brasilia, Brazil on a beautiful Spring morning.

We watched, unrolled our sign and acquired some 'toots' from a nearby booth while we waited for Paul's turn to run. He's back folks. We think he looks better than ever. Look out.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Ties aren't just for weekdays anymore

This morning we loaded up for a run at a local park and Sam yelled, "wait! I've got to get my belt and tie." So we waited, while he clipped on his tiny sailboat tie atop his favorite t-shirt and climbed into his car-seat, careful to not crunch the tie beneath it's five point harness. He unclipped it for a short run and then re-clipped once again to meet up with our friends on the quiet of the Saturday morning playground. At once kindly offering to his friend to try it on, "you can wear this, it's ok with me." Ties are the new sweatpants to our relaxed Saturdays.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

ABC's and Cinco, Seis, Oito's

The good news: Sam is learning to count, in both English and Portuguese.

The interesting news: There is no delineation between the two and they aren't quite in order yet.

"One, two, three, eight, quatro, cinco, seis, oito."

We think it is all fabulous.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Belted Babes

The other day Sam insisted on wearing his belt for the first time ever, which makes a mother of a newly potty trained child nervous, but I complied, helping him to weave it through the individual loops of the pants he'd carefully chosen. As I latched the belt he looked at me and said, "Everybody will think I'm a dad because I'm wearing a belt." * I agreed, because, hello...everyone knows I delivered a baby and Paul started wearing a belt.

*My small boy was not mistaken for a dad that day.

Friday, August 5, 2011

For Great Grandmama:

The Captain and Sam building Lego fire boats and 'The Boys' watching afternoon cartoons. We love you and wish you were here!

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Mind Like a Steel (Wolf)trap

Just about nine months ago I happened upon one of my favorite pianists playing at an incredibly desirable, quaint and romantic location in Virginia, Wolftrap, just before our departure to Brazil. The Jim Brickman would be playing for a small crowd of just about 200 people in The Barns at Wolftrap, in the fallen leaves of October, in the rolling Virginia hills, by nearly only candlelight, with nearly only (less 199 strangers) my husband.

I arranged to pick up the tickets at a Starbucks in Arlington from a gentleman whom Paul had spoken with from Craigslist, the man in possession of the only two tickets left for the event. He informed me through the ticket exchange between criss-crossed hands of Sam, a chocolate milk box, myself, a vanilla latte, Peter and a paci that he and his wife had seen him before at this location and that is was "breathtaking," they would however, be unable to attend this evening, fortunate for us.

I packed a picnic dinner that we had the greatest intentions of stopping and sharing on a blanket on our way to the event, but our babysitter had been running late. So I unwrapped the carefully tied strings about our wax-paper-wrapped cobb salad sandwiches, and handed one to Paul who drove us through rush hour traffic to the evening of his wife's dreams.

In the height of anticipation of our big international move, a baby and a toddler running be ragged about the city, emotionally we were both in need of an evening like this.

We arrived, sipped wine among the other guests and were ushered into "The Barn." I have always had a thing for piano music, it is just in my soul. A few chords and I can be brought to tears, a whole evening and I am on musical high. We relaxed for what felt like the first time since we'd arrived in DC.

At one point in the evening Jim played a song he had written for the country music group, Lady Antabellum. We listened entranced, but the words didn't strike me at the time, I was more caught up in the piano stylings of Jim Brickman than of the words that flowed from the woman who sang with him that evening.

Until yesterday....

As I sat in the tiny waiting room of a doctor's office in Brasilia, Brazil, holding my tiny Pete on my lap, bird like hair gently brushing my chin, quietly chewing on cheerios and baby campfire marshmallows, it began to play, in English, on the stereo:

I began to hum along into Pete's tiny ear, wondering why I knew the tune, how I knew the words....Then it hit me. From 4188.1 miles and a continent away, in Brazil, in a city that's population speaks hardly a word of english, in a waiting room that is already destined to become a fond memory on our journey to spreading our love, forever, in more beating hearts outside of our bodies than we had ever dreamed ourselves lucky enough to be in the care of....and none of us will ever be alone.

The Best Part of Your Day

Sam’s new trick for not going to bed right away, “I’m still a little bit hungry.”

This one is hard to say no to and is relatively painless. I made him a peanut butter sandwich on linhaƧa-quinoa bread. After Sam spent 15 minutes picking linseeds out of his bread, he climbed up onto the counter and spent another 5 minutes examining the contents of the cabinets. Finally, he settled on a bowl of cheerios, which he quietly ate while I washed dishes. When he was done, he slunk back to bed.

I followed him.

“You can say ‘goodnight’, you know.”

“Sit on my bed for a minute.”

“What was the best part of your day?”

“Watching TV.” He answered three times, in case I didn’t understand the first two times that he really likes watching TV. One of his new favorites is Dinosaur Dan. This kids that knows everything about dinosaurs and either sees or imagines dinosaurs roaming the school grounds. So, in other words, he’s a lot like Sam who, earlier in the evening, requested we read “a little bit” about the Ceratopsian dinosaurs.

“What was the best part of your day?” he asked me.

“The best part of my day was you asking me what the best part of my day was.”

“I’m so tired.”

“Then go to sleep.”