Football Practice

Wednesday is football day at our house.  The boys have a half-day of school (like all kids in the Belgian school system).  The half-day is to give kids one afternoon a week to devote to an extracurricular choice.  Our boys chose football.  (aka foot and/or soccer.)

The boys play for a local team, so they could play with their friends from school.  Monkey is in the first year (U6) and AJ is in the third year (U8).  There are a few differences that I've noticed between an American team and here.  Last year, was AJ's first year playing on the local team, and Monkey played with the BSA (the Brussels Sports Association, an english-speaking group, mostly for Americans) - John was the coach.  Last year (given our one car situation) I often found myself running back and forth between the two games to drive everyone where they needed to be -- A perfect chance for back-to-back comparisons.

One noticeable difference, was the coffee.  The americans always brought their travel mugs and drank their coffee during the match.  The european parents waited until after the match, to go buy each other drinks (coffee, coke, beer or wine) at the stadium bar (any and every sport facility has a bar here - even the pool!)  Here, the socializing after the sport as important as the workout itself.   I have to say that I've learned to appreciate the later.  Standing on a cold field drinking a luke-warm cup of coffee doesn't compare to coming in off a cold field and drinking a cup of european coffee (before noon) or beer/glass of wine (after noon - for me anyway.)  

This has become part of our Saturday morning tradition now.  After their matches, we go into the bar with the rest of the parents and wait for our kids.  The kids come in with their drink tickets, and we all have something to drink, and maybe a sandwich and/or a bag of chips.  I love it - it reminds me of being a kid and getting to pick a treat from the concession stand after my brother's baseball game.

Another difference was that it took us awhile to realize (maybe March?) that we had signed on for a full school year commitment.  Who would have thought?  In the U.S., kids play one sport in the fall, another for winter and maybe even a third and fourth for spring and summer.  And of course a Minnesota winter obviously doesn't cooperate with the idea of a full school year of outdoor soccer.  AJ was a bit tired of foot by the time the season ended in the spring, but he spent the summer with a soccer ball attached to his foot so we signed up again for this year, knowing full well (this time) what the commitment entailed.

Which brings me to his little brother.  He signed on as well, and is incredibly happy to be on a local team of his own.  He often plays goalie, and I have to say, he is a really fun goalie to watch.  He dives for the ball and isn't afraid to throw his body whichever direction it needs to go to make the stop.  Incredibly, he also stays very level-headed.  One game, I watched him give up a string of goals, and to my amazement, he kept his head.  It never phased him in the least.  After watching Manny Fernandez (former NHL goalie for the Wild, for those non-hockey fans reading this) repeatedly become a head case if he had a bad streak -- time and time again, I was impressed with my Monkey's ability to "shake-it-off."

We did have to have a talk though, last week.

The only problem with Wednesdays, is that the boys have different practice schedules.  I pick them up from school at 12h30.  I take one of them for a practice (the field is right by school) at 14h30/2:30 pm, and he's done at 15h45 (3:45pm).  The next kid has practice from 16h (4 pm) to 17h30 (5:30 pm).  I drive back and forth to school on Wednesdays no less than five times at regular intervals.  On one such Wednesday, I was dropping AJ off and picking Monkey up.  I walked all over - out to the back fields, around the clubhouse building, everywhere.  I could not find Monkey.  While I was starting to get a little bit anxious, I wasn't in a panic just yet.  And then I checked the bar.  There was my kid, on a bar stool, on his knees, belly-up to the bar chatting it up with the bartender drinking cherry flavored water (free, I might add, it's not like I send them to soccer practice with coins in their pockets).  Because, he told me during the inevitable inquisition, "he was thirsty."  Of course.

After a reprimand, he promised never to mooch free drinks off the bartender ever again.  And I was left with the incredulous realization that I just had a talk with my kid about how he can't hang out in a bar and order drinks all by himself.  He's six.  I thought I had at least another 12 to 14 years before I had to have that conversation.  But then again, it is Monkey.  He's ahead of his time.

American Football

Football in Belgium (Europe) is soccer.  To talk about the sport that involves tackling, passing, kick-offs and a brown pointy ball, it is best to specify American Football.

That's not to say no one here knows anything about American Football.  Last month, the two Belgian boys that live next door were playing football in the backyard, and they were using their bike helmets as protective gear.  Imagine their sheer delight when John went out to our garage and came back with the boys' purple Vikings helmets.    It almost made it worth the extra baggage fee he had to pay last fall when he brought them home, worth it.

Luke and Avery went out to help teach them the rules, and soon they were running plays, but eventually they were all more interested in the tackling part.

This year, is the first year we have an ESPN channel on our local cable package.  Over the years, John has been watching NFL games via the internet and the NFL season pass.  It has always been "Sunday Night Football" at our house, because with the time difference, the first Sunday afternoon game starts at 7pm.  Last night, he had the NFL pass on the computer (Vikings game) and a different game on ESPN.  His chair was in the middle of the room so he could watch either.  But mostly, he was focused on Facebook.  At one point he commented "I'm not even really watching, it's just nice to have it on in the background."  And that's true.  On the NFL pass, we even get some of the American commercials.  This time of year, as we go into Thanksgiving week, I am thankful for those subtle, American customs that sneak their way into our life here.

Holes.

Last month, we noticed that "they" (workers, from the water company, we think) dug a big hole at the end of the block.  A day later, there was another hole, about a block away.  A few days after that, they dug a hole across the street from us, on the corner of our neighbor's driveway.  It makes her turn out of her driveway so tight, that she can't get out to the street without backing up at least once.  About a week later, they dug one directly across, on our side of the street.  These big, deep holes have blue and yellow plastic fences around them.  I thought the neighbor's cat fell into one the other night, but it was a false alarm (thankfully, I didn't really want to climb down into a hole to rescue a three-legged cat.)

Last week, on our way out the door to go to school, "they" were digging more holes.  (This time, I know it was the cable company, he told me so when he asked me to move my car.)  They dug these holes on our lower sidewalk, next to where everyone parks their cars.  They jack-hammered through the cement stones and it was quite the ruckus.  But by the time I brought everyone home from school, everything was all put back together again.  But then the next day, they were at it again.  The same thing, they waited for all of the cars to leave, dug more holes, made lots of noise, and then everything was all patched up again by dinner time.

Our front walk is still a big mess of sand and dust.  But I'm actually ok with that, because it means it hasn't rained in over a week to wash it all away.  And a week in Belgium without rain, means we've had a lot of sun, and sun in Belgium makes everything more tolerable.

Today, they are jack-hammering away at the big hole across the street.  The one that has been sitting open for at least a month.  (But then again, there were a few bank holidays in there, who has time during  consecutive bank holidays to do any work?)  I hope they aren't making it bigger.    

What are all these holes for?  It is almost like they are looking for buried treasure.  But I'm sure it's nothing as exciting as that.  Just boring old utility work.  But trying to figure out the rhyme or reason to it is interesting....

Anatomy of a week's vacation.

This week is fall break, and the children have one full week off from school.  Monday morning came, and we blissfully slept in.  Well, not really actually.  We had our time change this weekend so everyone was up early, but still, sans alarm clock was nice.

Monday and Tuesday were a breeze.  The kids were so happy to be home.  They went from one room to the next, playing with their toys as if it were Christmas Day and they had never seen them before.  And get this, they even picked up after themselves!

By Tuesday afternoon, the novelty was wearing off, and boredom began to set in.  But just in time, AJ's friend arrived for a sleep over.  The atmosphere was fresh and exciting again, and the three boys played together without notable incidents through the next morning.  Then I packed them (the boys) all off to soccer practice and an afternoon of fresh air and exercise combined with a late night the night before meant early bedtime.  Good thing too, as John is off to Italy for a couple of days.

But I knew that this morning, we would need an outing.  So what to do with three little kids?  Maybe a museum?  A google search revealed that a museum would either require public transportation or a drive (and parking) in Brussels traffic, and at least 40 euros in admission fees.  I wasn't sure if I had enough patience to commit to such an outing.  I also doubted my ability to come home with the same number of kids that I started with.  Maybe if someone were paying me 40 euros, I would be able to find said patience, and not be tempted to sell one of them off at some point during the outing.

Instead, I packed them all up and took them to the local swimming pool.  It can be an intimidating outing here.  Swimming pools here have co-ed locker rooms and stringent rules about speedo swimsuits and swim caps.  A quick look at the pool's website reassured me that I understood what I would need for this adventure.  A former competitive swimmer myself, I made sure my silver silicon cap was tucked in our swim sack along with the speedos and towels and we were on our way.

After a combined 7.50 euros in entry fees (and that's even the non-resident rate) by approximately 10h15 we were happily splashing our way through the morning.  By 12h30 we were home for lunch and a tired 3-year old was incredibly compliant with the idea of an afternoon nap.

As I type this, I have ten barrettes in my hair.  (Miss B's new very favorite thing to do is put every barrette in my hair at once.)  The boys are wrestling upstairs and I'm tired of telling them to go outside, and anyway now it's raining, so I'm just going to let them have at it until someone gets hurt and then I can say "I told you so."

Miss B is now busy putting all of her dollies in "time out" on the steps.  At least she has found someone to yell and boss that is happy to go along with it (the boys aren't always excited about going into time out just because their little sister tells them to - nor am I.)

Ok, time to sign-off.  The inevitable happened and there is loud crying and a lot of pain coming from one of the boys upstairs.  I get to go say "I told you so" and then move on to my special reserve rainy day idea - an afternoon movie.

But what, I ask you, am I going to do with tomorrow?!

Happy Halloween!

A week or so before Halloween, we were driving in the car and I said to Miss B "you could be a little witch for Halloween?" after a thoughtful pause she answered "or maybe me be a wittle pink pwincess instead!"  Once she saw the boys cool vampire teeth, she amended her costume to be a vampire princess and I had to buy one more set of glow-in-the-dark vampire teeth.  (She has no idea how cool that costume idea actually is in today's pop culture Twilight world.)  

We carved up our pumpkins before Daddy had to go back to the U.S. for his trip.  It's a good thing our trick-or-treat night came early here in Belgium, our pumpkins never would have made it to the actual holiday in our 60 degree warm autumn weather.  They got moldy and smelly in our kitchen really fast!  

Trick-or-treating in Belgium is very much a grassroots effort.  While All Saints Day (Nov 1) is a recognized national holiday (being a catholic country with a national religion and all) all Hallow's Eve - the day of the dead is not.  All of the Halloween aisles in the stores are R-rated.  My kids don't need to see costumes that combine axes stuck in heads with a lot of fake blood.  Any non-horror themed costume idea has to be imported from the United States (or what I've learned through the years) bought during Carnival week in February.  

But the American families here are numerous, and organized.  In one village, an American friend of mine organized her neighbors for a trick-or-treat night when her boys were young and she wanted them to experience the tradition.  It grew and grew, and now her boys are too old to trick-or-treat, and the night in her neighborhood has grown so big that she had to hand it over to a local business to sponsor.  Over the years that we've been here, more and more neighborhoods are organizing their own trick-or-treat nights.  This year, I was by myself with three kids.  So we took an easy route and went to the neighborhood across from the American school.  I dropped my candy off at the school the week before (I told you the Americans here are organized!)  And any house with a pumpkin sign last Thursday night was fair game.  

In an attempt to make my single-mom-night-out easier, and be cool at the same time, we went to McDonald's for dinner before we trick-or-treated.  There is only one McDonald's, and it just so happens to be very near to the American school (go figure).  AJ was more than apprehensive about setting his vampired foot into a public establishment.  I assured him that there was sure to be other American kids in costume having dinner before trick-or-treating.  I was wrong.  To my amazement, we were the only vampires in the place and the talk of the town.  (Miss B looked awfully cute with her princess dress and vampire teeth.)  

Trick-or-treating was a success.  I could even relax a little, the kids were old enough this year to ring each doorbell by themselves, even the scary houses.  After all, how can a princess be frightened when she has two tall vampires on either side of her?  After each house, Miss B had to bring each piece of candy back individually to show me.  She asked over and over, "Mommy, another one?!"  and at one point, she turned and said "mommy, me weally, weally wike Halloween!"  We do have a little work to do though, as it  was revealed that the older boys didn't know what a tootsie roll was.  

I came home with the same number of kids that I started with, which was my primary goal for the evening.  There were a few seconds of panic when I couldn't find Monkey, thankfully, it wasn't dark yet.  Monkey is still talking about the extra piece of candy he got when he trick-or-treated a house all by himself.  

We were out for just over an hour, each kid got about 20 pieces of candy, they were home in bed at a decent time and they even fell asleep (despite the sugar rush).  All in all, a fun night in Belgium.

Miss B and the multiple personalities.

I survived the first two children without the colorful stories that I've often heard other parents share.  My boys never took their diapers off in their cribs.  My boys never climbed on top of furniture before they could really walk.  My boys never took their clothes off and danced around the backyard.  They didn't color on walls or furniture and certainly not their own bodies.  My third kid has done all of the above and more, and many of these on a regular basis.

Miss B is an angel at school.  She loves being there, she loves her friends and she loves her teachers.  The teachers comment all the time about how she is always smiling with her cute dimples.  She kisses every adult upon greeting and goodbye (as is the custom here in Belgium) - even Luke's soccer coach.  But then she will run away from me in the parking lot, flashing those two cute dimples, taunting me.  Her sparkly eyes say: "Chase me...chase me....what do you mean walk with you in the parking lot?  Are you kidding?  This is so much more fun!"

She also has these Jeckle and Hyde episodes where she flies into a rage with little or no notice.  (Ok, so the notice is usually me saying no to something - like candy before dinner.  I know, I'm such a horrible parent.)     This episode almost always involves her throwing her little body on the floor and kicking, or hitting at me, or sometimes even trying to bite.  What is that all about??  My boys never did that!  Is this a girl thing?

As near as I can tell, it's all tied to emotions with some aggravating factors.  I can almost see and/or predict when a Jeckle and Hyde moment is going to happen.  The aggravating factors are usually hunger and fatigue.  And the moment almost always comes when she really, really wants something (like the aforementioned candy.)  Or if she really wants to wear a certain item, like a tutu or tiara.   If she thinks I'm not going to let her, she won't even wait for the words to come out of my mouth.  She just gets really mad, really fast.  Hmm.  Irrationally jumping to conclusions.  Doesn't sound at all like anyone I know.  There is a reason she is my daughter.

We are working on slowing down.  Taking deep breathes.  Using our words to talk through situations without screaming and carrying on.  But it's exhausting and comes with collateral damage - I have more than one healing bite mark to prove it.  My intuition and experience tells me this is a phase and it too shall pass.  I just hope it passes before the babysitter that lives next door is frightened off by the blood curdling screams and fits that I'm sure carry through the shared wall, because I could really use a grown-up night out.