Dia de campo

Looking back on our time here in Chile, az and I agree that Maya has reaped the greatest benefit by far. 

Lara will always have Chile as her birthplace but it's Maya who's the Chilenita. Her life here is far richer and more busy than any of us. There's jardin and Jenny and her friends at the park. She's grown into a confident, friendly and outgoing little girl. Her fluency in Spanish is amazing; I don't think she even realises she's speaking two languages, switching back and forth between them all day long.  

It's funny to think that Maya has had so many full and interesting life experiences - travel, living abroad, new cultures, another language, Chilean schooling, and dozens of friends - all before the age of three. She's lived more in her two and half years than most people do in ten. And for that reason I know she will hit the ground running in Australia and take everything in her stride.  

About six months ago, I wrote a post on how Maya has integrated into life here and all the friends she has made in the neighbourhood. 

One of them, a little girl Maya's age called Sara, is now her BFF (best friend forever). They play together almost every day and adore each other. Sara's parents work from home and Maya is a regular fixture at their house. They are devastated that she is leaving [insert more guilt for me]; they say Maya is like family.

They like her so much in fact that yesterday, Maya and Jenny were invited to spend the day at their campo (farm) in Los Andes, about an hour out of Santiago. They all drove there together. Maya and Sara had an absolute ball, laughing and singing all day long.

 

I confess I did feel slightly odd that Maya's first out-of-town road trip without her parents should come at the tender age of two and a half. But her other mother (Jenny) was with her, and nobody else seemed to think it an unusual thing to do.

We haven't as yet got the full lowdown from Jenny as they got home quite late (maybe my toddler needs a curfew?), and Maya is an unreliable source of information. But I think it's safe to say the day was a huge success. 

Is there a cow in there?

And sheep!

If farms can be gorgeous, this one is

I'm so glad Maya has had such a wonderful time in Chile and made so many good friends. Who knows, with communications being so easy these days, there is a chance she (or I) could hold onto these friendships. I am a truly great correspondent after all, if I say so myself.

And she'll always have my blog to look back on her Chilean life in years to come. 

Realities of reverse culture shock

I'm starting to get a bit nervous about heading home. We've spent so long on the preparation and logistics and not a great deal on the thoughts and feelings. That's inevitable; there's so much to do when moving life back and forth across the world.

This week has been a run around packing up our lives in Chile - closing bank accounts (a drama), posting things home (extremely laborious), disconnecting my mobile phone (surprisingly simple); and sorting stuff back in Australia - connecting the gas and electricity in our new place (easy), recharging my mobile phone account (easy), and organising the sale and delivery of new appliances (easy). 

We've also squeezed in some retail therapy and a wee bit of pampering. I've found an awesome massage guy (alas, too late), and had my nails done. This stuff is so much cheaper here than it is back home. I'll have neither the time nor the money for pedicures before long. 

I am still feeling horribly guilty at parting Maya and Jenny. I know I probably imagine it to be worse for Maya than she will actually feel. She's too young to remember things so intensely and will be more easily distracted with new things at home. Though I am sure she will ask for Jenny here and there and that makes me sad.

It's definitely the downside of this privileged life.

I haven't lived in Australia for almost five years and it will be a big adjustment. I'm hoping the easy factor will feel somewhat like a good night's sleep since I won't be getting a real one of those anytime soon. 

I always thought Canberra to be full of clever young over-achievers, all hell-bent on their careers. Conversations inevitably focused on which government agency you worked for and at what level. I was lucky enough to work at one of the top agencies (not because I'm a clever young over-achiever, by any means but simply because I needed a job and they gave me one) which meant I avoided the judgement of over-achieving strangers. 

I am loathe to return to that environment because a) I have no job (except the unpaid, 24/7 job of being a stay-at-home mum); b) I have no job prospects; and, c) I have no desire to return to the rat-race at all. When I do find a job (back in the government, no doubt), it will be part time and with no intention of seeking a promotion at any time soon. I'm quite happy to be a worker bee for a while.

It's probably best for me to just find other mothers to have my conversations with. And that is one thing I will really miss about my life in Chile - all my friends, my whole social network really, is made up of other SAHMs (stay-at-home mums) with babies and toddlers. They all understand exactly what that means - long hours and zero financial gain, a self-sacrificing, repetitive, sometimes boring, often exasperating but ultimately, highly-rewarding life. And there is completely no judgement but only support, for choosing to be a SAHM over a worker bee.

In Australia, almost all SAHMs have to return to work sometime in the first 12 months because it's too hard financially. Particularly if you have a mortgage (though rent isn't cheap either). I don't think it's beneficial to anyone, including society or the workforce in the long term, to force mothers to return to work and put their kids in daycare but there you have it. If only all countries were as enlightened as Sweden. 

Maybe we should move there next. 

Feliz Navidad de Chile

Merry Christmas!

It was another quiet festive time for us. Well, as quiet as things can be with two kids under three. 

Christmas Eve was spent with friends; glasses of bubbly on the balcony and little children running round and getting into the food. 

On Christmas Day, we had a low key morning at home, cooking up brunch and then opening presents. As we have to pack all our worldly possessions into a few small suitcases very shortly, we asked our family not to send any gifts. So, a grand total of eight presents sat quietly under our tree.

I am also dubious about 'spoiling' Maya with loads of presents; a few simple things seem to make her happy (her most-used toys are a set of worn dinosaur magnets left behind by her cousin Kiran, transformed into all sorts of foods in Maya's endless cooking creations). Of the eight gifts, four were hers but she got to open them all. A good compromise, I think.

The little set of saucepans we gave her were a big hit. As were the clothes from Jenny and an animal sticker book (who doesn't love stickers?)

Lara got by with a few gifts of clothes, her first stuffed toy (a rabbit), and lots of cuddles from her big sister. She didn't mind a bit.

Later, we went out for lunch at a friend's place, which also involved swimming and dancing. 

And so concluded our third Christmas in Santiago. Strangely enough, we never intended on spending more than one here but fate had other plans.

Maybe now, at least, I can get that song Feliz Navidad (in tune with the equally irritating "I want to wish you a Merry Christmas") out of my head. Here's hoping. 

Baby update - week 5

It's hard to believe that it has been exactly five weeks since Lara was born. Her face is fuller, her features changing, and she smiles more often. Especially if I tickle her ears. I love her smell and her fuzzy head of hair. I still feel so glad that she is finally here.

In one sense, I am finding things a lot easier the second time round. I know what to expect; I'm not a bundle of nerves every time Lara cries. Which is really comforting; I hated that anxiety. 

On the other hand, it takes a lot more energy to look after two kids. Especially with the night feeds (waking suddenly in the night and staying awake is awful), and then Maya bouncing out of bed at 6.30am. Of late, Maya and Lara seem to be playing tag team with feeds and naps. Lara dozes off to sleep and I whip out to the kitchen to make Maya's lunch, help her eat and get her off to bed, just in time for Lara to wake up hungry again. Where's my nap?

I must say though that Lara is a very good baby. Touch wood. We've still managed to avoid those endless crying episodes that wrack nerves of an entire household, and most of the neighbours as well. Of course, she cries, and very loudly at that. But with prompt attention - nappy change, feed, etc - disaster is averted. 

The best way to soothe Lara is just to pick her up - she'll stop crying almost immediately. She adores cuddles and would happily spend the entire day in someone's arms. What a sook. 

Now that she's a little older, she's awake more often and for longer stretches, alert and taking it all in. Lara's always had strong neck muscles - she could lift and move her head around from day one - but now she's definitely interested in her little world. Especially when it's light and bright. She's kind of like a plant turning to the sun. I put her down on the activity mat or the bouncy chair by the window and she seems to appreciate the change of scenery. For about ten minutes anyway. Then she starts wailing to be picked up again.

We seem to have gotten into a good routine though - Lara eats every two hours during the day, and then (roughly) every four at night. My doctor says I don't need to wake her to feed so I'm following her lead. The 3.30am feed still kills me and my eyes glaze over just thinking about it. Thank god for the iphone is all I can say.

We still have some feeding issues which are a work in progress. Though she is definitely getting enough milk - she's already gained a kilo since birth.

But Lara can be the most annoying eater. She rarely opens her mouth properly, continuously comes off the breast and then needs to be re-latched 20 or more times throughout her feed.

Each time she does latch on properly, she gulps the milk down so quickly she takes in air as well and then pulls away choking and spluttering. I have to whip her onto my shoulder for a burping session, without which she'll definitely vomit up all her milk (onto me). Sometimes she does so anyway. I've never experienced projectile vomit before (Maya was and is quite a refined eater); I don't recommend it. 

So, there we are, back and forth, boob and burp, with Lara getting increasingly cranky and me trying to prop my eyes open to engineer the whole performance. It can make for quite a lengthy feed. 

But as of this morning, Lara is finally starting to eat properly (latch on and stay there), which is a huge relief. 

And Maya is quite sweet with her; giving her pats when she cries or putting her head down on Lara's tummy in a semi hug. Today she called her mio guagua (my baby). And although I'm spending far more time looking after Lara, the time with which I used to spend with her, Maya doesn't seem to resent her little sister for it. 

I imagine it won't be long before they are great friends. 

It's all an experience

I keep trying to write these posts but strangely, I seem to have less time than I used to. Or more demands on my current time. Oh, and xmas presents to buy. I've just found out that there are three tias (carers) in Maya's jardin class and I only have two presents. Dang. You get the picture.

But there are things to say and think through and process, with another big international move coming up and lots of changes. And what better way to do it than by writing this blog?

People inevitably ask me if I'm looking forward to going home. I am, though of course, there are things and people I'll miss here (post to follow on that), and things (but not people) I find weird or annoying that I won't miss at all. It's the same anywhere.

The main thing I think I need from going home is normalcy; time to recharge my batteries in a seemingly simpler life. I can speak one language, troubleshoot my own internet connection, and find all my groceries in one place. I'll know what Maya does at jardin because I can communicate with the carers and even, shock horror, stick my head around the door now and again and see for myself.

I know it won't all be rosy. I'll have to obey the road rules for one thing (and drive on the left hand side).

But the reason I need that normalcy is because choosing to live in another country is something about which one should be excited. Embrace the adventure, laugh over the quirks, and feel inspired by the challenges. 

To do all that requires energy, and right now, I don't feel I have a lot of energy. And so, I need to go home and regroup for the next overseas experience, wherever and whenever that may be. 

Az remarked today that everything in Chile is an experience. That's very true. Take yesterday for example...

In the morning, we went to Maya's jardin for her Christmas celebrations. I found out, literally the day before, that a costume was required. Maya was to be a pastora (shepherdess). Luckily, Jenny was on the ball, disappeared somewhere and returned with a suitable outfit. 

Is it just me or does she also resemble a Jedi master? 

The performance was terribly sweet whilst also being somewhat confusing to the littlies. But they all did a stellar job. We were just relieved that there were no confusing storylines involving malos tigres.

There was the nativity scene, in which Maya played a key role of course; Noah's ark, complete with a troop of ballerinas; and mini Santas waving pom poms in tune with a Spanish rendition of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. 

Then, post jardin, Lara and I went to meet a guy at the metro stop. He sold me 1kg of Chilean smoked salmon direct from Pucon (in the south) for the bargain price of 12,000 pesos ($24). I can't imagine such transactions going down at my local bus stop in Canberra.

In the afternoon, I rested my weary back (which is still giving me problems) before heading out for dinner. 

Az's jefe (boss) hosted a beautiful four-course formal dinner at his house for us and six of our friends. It was so very nice of him and the food was lovely, including this amazing dark chocolate with slivers of almonds, homemade by his chef. So tasty, I could have eaten a kilo of that. 

Everyone was dressed up and I was very pleased to find myself able to squeeze my post-baby body into a sleek black dress. Even Lara behaved herself, taking snoozes in everyone's arms. 

And that was just another day of our memorable Chile experience.  

Toddler logic

"Daddy, are you tying a rainbow?" asked Maya.

What a wonderful world it is when a knot is a rainbow, a dress is a fairy, and a star is a twinkle. 

Az, in this case, was tying his shoe lace. 

I have no idea where Maya gets these concepts or how it makes sense in her head. But I love it. It is the sweetest thing.

I read somewhere that parents should encourage their children's vocabulary by giving things their proper names and not engaging in baby talk. But I don't think Maya has any problems communicating and expressing herself (which she does in two languages, after all). So we won't be making language boring and denying her the magic of imagination.

I'd much rather be picking fairies out of her wardrobe and tying rainbows in her hair.

Maya and I made twinkle cookies last week

Convergent thinking

At the end of our first full day at home with both kids, I told az that he had no choice but to give up his job and stay home with me. We'll both go on the dole (claim unemployment benefits); it's not the money we need but bodies to do the grunt work. With a full time, hands-on commitment, two parents can just about manage two small children.

Who knew two children would be so much harder than one?

The problem is not the baby. As far as newborns go, this one is pretty much a dream (fingers firmly crossed at this statement). Especially as she spends about 22 hours of the day like this...

And only really cries when she's hungry, has a wet nappy, or wants a cuddle. As soon as I pick her up, she stops crying. Sometimes she even settles herself and goes back to sleep on her own - wow.

No, the problem, not surprisingly, is the other one.

As far as toddlers go, Maya is not really a high maintenance child. It's just that she's a lot more maintenance than Lara, and we have a lot less time and ability (and let's face it, patience too) to manage her usual array of toddler tempers, tantrums, and mood swings. And the endless questions and comments, demands and bossiness.

Of course, to Maya, nothing much has, or should have, changed. Lara is a cute, if slightly noisy, addition to the household, more interesting than a house plant but a lot less fun than, say, a puppy. She doesn't dislike Lara or seem particularly jealous. She pats her from time to time when she cries, or gives her a hug. There's even the occasional big sister Kodak moment.

And so, in the house where she reigns supreme, Maya's still the kingpin. The fact that Mummy now spends a lot more time 'feeding Lara' doesn't mean that Mummy shouldn't also be available to spoon feed Maya at the same time, or dance, or sing, or read a story.

They say toddlers can understand everything that goes on around them. To that effect, I try to explain to Maya why things have changed. The reason she needs to be quiet when Lara's sleeping is so she and I can do things together. Or that I can't play/feed/'come here' while I'm feeding Lara because she is attached to me and I literally can't move.

Maya's usual response to my carefully-worded explanations is to simply repeat her original question. Again and again. My usual response then is to consider that I would have a more rewarding conversation with a wall. 

Why do you think she asks the same question over and over? I asked az. 
She's probably waiting for a better answer, he replied.

As are we both. 

So, Maya and I continue to persist, hopeful and resolute that one day the other see will reason and come round to our way of thinking.

Back online again

Oh VTR, I won't miss you. 

After five long and lonely days, our internet is finally back up and running. After being switched off again. How does it take minutes to switch it off and days to restore it?

Ironically, I am sure this lengthy delay is due to the bureaucratic slowness that infuses all systems and procedures in Chile, and not as punishment for not paying our bill (which we hadn't realised was owing). 

Ah, the perks (or quirks?) of life in Chile. 

Along with shoddy transmission of Chile's internet communications there are a couple of other things to which I'm happy to say hasta luega. There are far more things to which I'd prefer not to say 'see you later' so allow me this indulgence/vent.
 
I won't miss the terrible driving of Chileans which always makes me feel nervous for myself, and any children in my backseat. In fact, I try not to have the kids in the car at all if possible. And I always grip the steering wheel just a little tighter, especially when on all the autopistas (highways) that crisscross the city. 

Particular gripes include but are not limited to - speeding, tailgating, drag racing, weaving, not signalling, cutting in, never giving way, unique use of hazard lights, chatting on mobile phones whilst driving, and the general attitude of 90% of the black and yellow taxis in this town. 

The other thing that gets my goat is at restaurants, of which, admittedly, I visit frequently. But so do most Chileans so I don't feel my eating habits are altogether too indulgent. Firstly, there's the tipping, about which I've whinged previously but second and equally aggravating, is paying for bottled water.

Tap water in Santiago is drinkable. It's not tasty but it won't kill you. Why do we need bottled water here? It's expensive and wasteful and bad for the environment. And in restaurants, it is always sold in those tiny bottles so I need six of them for a normal meal, and who wants to buy six bottles of water? Inevitably I leave the restaurant half-parched with thirst just to make the point (to myself evidently, no one else cares) that it's ridiculous to pay for something which should be free. And unbottled. 

Grrrr. And that is just my two centesimos for the day. 

Sleeping beauty

I think the days of our sleeping beauty are officially numbered; she's starting to wake up. 

It's only a matter of time before Lara finally opens her (blue-grey? We're not sure exactly) eyes, takes a look around at this new world, decides she doesn't much fancy it, and opts to share her disdain by crying very loudly. And repeatedly. 

Technically, we're not quite at that dreaded stage yet but she's definitely more awake and vocal with each day. 

She has also decided that the best way to get by in this unfriendly place is by snuggling up on someone's chest, preferably Mummy's, preferably in a two-armed, all day long cuddle. It all very cute and nice but doesn't leave much time to do anything constructive with my day. 

Hopefully one of these days soon my back will improve and I can start carting her around in the sling. Which at least gives me another option if wakefulness turns to crabbiness.

As a second-time parent, I don't think it's possible to forget the stress and exhaustion of the crying newborn. When Maya was that age, she howled every evening for no reason at all - the dreaded 'witching hour' - while I did everything I could think of to calm her down - rocking, shushing, cuddles, walks in the pram, singing, dancing, warm baths, the lot. None of it had any effect until it was dark. And that was in winter so I'd have no hope if Lara decided to set out on that path now when the summer sun doesn't set until 9pm.

But the part that had mostly slipped into the recesses of my mind is the exacting breastfeeding schedule. Especially in these early days of feeding on demand. That demand can be quite frequent when baby has such a small stomach and a super-fast digestion system. Last night, I was up six times with her. That's six times of jerking awake, stumbling out of bed, finding the light switch, fetching her from her bed, adjusting the pillows and the long and maddening process of latching on (she's bit slow with this). Each time I felt like I was moving underwater. Looking at the clock, I couldn't believe only a couple of hours had passed. As she ate, my head kept nodding off to sleep entirely of its own accord. Which is very uncomfortable. At least Lara can sleep and eat at the same time.

Right now, I'm waiting for her to wake up and feed as we approach the three-hour mark. I'm dying to lie down for a snooze myself but I know that as soon as I start to drift off, she'll wake up. Which is the only thing harder than staying awake when I really don't want to be awake.

I was supposed to take Lara out in the sling this morning (as a semi-experiment) to do some last-minute Xmas shopping for relatives back home. I hate that I can't drive our car for six weeks, it adds another layer of complication to the already long-winded process of getting out of the house with a new baby. So I have to take taxis everywhere; a stressful exercise I try to avoid anyway owing to the fact that Chileans are terrible drivers, and taxi drivers especially so. I don't recommend it when pregnant, with small children, a lot of shopping, or a newborn baby.

Needless to say, we haven't left the house yet.

Parting

There is one thing I have been dreading almost since the day I arrived in Chile, and now that we're on the way out, I'm feeling extra crappy about it all. And that is having to say goodbye to Jenny.

Maya was almost five months when we arrived in Santiago and Jenny has been one of the most important people in her life since then.

First week in Santiago

I don't know how to explain to a toddler that we're leaving the only home she has known, and she won't see her beloved Jenny every day. Or for a long time.

Helping Maya walk, aged 7 months

I know toddlers have less emotional ties and that Maya will adapt soon enough but it's certainly going to be hard in the first few weeks. What do I say when she asks where Jenny is and when she'll see her again?

18 months old

Every day, when she hears the front door open, Maya shouts "Jenny!" and goes tearing out to meet her and jump into her arms. Not a bad way to start work, really. 

To Jenny we credit Maya with her great command of Spanish long before she started jardin - they talk and laugh all day long; helping Maya to walk from an early age; ensuring she is presentable at jardin at least two days a week (the other two we take her in); beautiful, intricate hairstyles that I will never be able to replicate; endless park time; friendships with all the neighbourhood kids; and model toddler behaviour when Jenny is around. 

The true feat is that any toddler would sit still while this is being done to her hair

Jenny found Maya's great Dieciocho outfit for jardin

Jenny also has an uncanny knack of buying presents that Maya just adores (like this pram for Xmas last year)

In short, we couldn't have asked for a better carer or friend for our first-born child. Jenny has made our time in Chile so much easier, and our lives the better for having met her. 

And now we have an excuse to hopefully come back to Chile, even just for a visit, one day. 

 

Off to a Halloween party in the park in Maya's favourite princesa outfit - another Jenny gift, of course