6 "Get Out" Songs for Teachers to Mentally Sing When Kicking a Student Out

For many of my dear friends, it is that time of year. Yes, teachers, I am talking to you. And yes... school is starting - or worse - has started.

I feel your pain. As a teacher myself (though I haven't been in the classroom for a few years now), I know that teaching is for those with big heart... and patience... and grace... and humor... and courage... and high barometers of all things gross... and - sorry, I'll move on. Although September can be exciting with the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and the promise of never been used notebooks (What? Don't tell me I'm the only nerdy teacher that likes new school supplies.), the students' first-day-of-school-eagerness wears off by 4th period and then they become as tolerable as students on the last day of school, which is, let's be honest, not at all tolerable. Ok, damn right meh.

When I was in the classroom, by 5th period of my first day I was questioning my decision-making skills in life, asking myself what in the world I could have been thinking when I went back to school to become a teacher. Oh, that's right, people. I graduated with a BA in Something Else and voluntarily went back to school to enter a profession that guaranteed to pay me nothing but mismatched markers, half used post-its and enough money to buy groceries each month (nothing organic less I want to break the bank). Luckily, I really like school supplies. By 6th period, I was daydreaming of flicking paper footballs at kids' face and by the end of the day, all of the zen I had acquired during my peaceful summer was a smelly pile of poo in the corner. Wait a minute? Is that an actual pile of poo in the corner. Ugh. These kids are so gross.

Teachers are the most selfless and funny people I know; in part because it takes a certain kind of person to do this job, and mostly because we need to be in order to survive; yet even teachers have their breaking (bad) point and it's usually when one of the kids that we give up our days, evenings and weekends for says something so ungrateful that all of the others kids stop and look at you in horror, waiting to see how you'll respond.

source: leochingkwaked

These are moments when you want to break out in damn near theatrical dance and throw someone out of your classroom shrieking and crazy talking to yourself, yelling

GET OUT!

so loudly that the windows shatter but instead you stay cool and say, "Please leave the classroom," deep breath, "Right now." So, Selfless Teachers, because of this I've created a Mental Playlist for you (not mental as in crazy, mental as in your mind) to use for the times when your human reaction to physically face push someone has to be overridden by your selfless, patient teacher reaction. I want you to think of these tunes with their perfect GET OUT lyrics and imagine what theatrical dance you would do if you could kick a student out in whatever Broadway type way you wanted.

* Don't actually do it, but daydream about it in that secret, out-of-body-experience kind of way and then come back to reality.

1. Problems - Arianna Grande 

"I got one less problem without ya...I got one less problem without ya...

I got one less, one less problem."

Tap dance it, giiirl... 
Get out.

Source: ruinedchildhood

2. Beat It - Michael Jackson

"...but you want to be bad? Just beat it. Beat it."

MmHmm. Not so bad now...
Get out.

Source: princesconsuela

3. Bye Bye Bye - N*Sync

"I know that I can't take no more. It ain't no lie. I just want to see you out that door. Baby, bye, bye, bye."

Boom... 
Get out.

Source: Paul DeSpain

4. Irreplaceable - Beyonce

"...Keep talking that mess, that's fine but could you walk and talk at the same time? ...You must not know about me, you must not know about me."

...and if you don't know... 
Get out.

Source: notin-nottingham

5. Leave (Get Out) - Jo Jo

"Get out, right now. It's the end of you and me. It's too late and I can't wait for you to be gone."

Thas what I thought...

Get out.

Source: princescounsuela

6. Hit the Road Jack - Ray Charles (especially if your student's name is Jack.)

"Hit the road, Jack and don't you come back 

no more , no more, no more no more."

Uh-huh... 
Get out.

Source: gifs-planet

Any songs you would add to the list? 

*No children were harmed in the making of this production and if you want to avoid a teacher daydreaming about kicking you out, don't be a jerk at school. Leave the drama for your mama. 

Why The Most Interesting Man in the World is... The Most Interesting Man

To wrap up Friday and my week of unexplained devotion to The Most Interesting Man in the World, here is my TOP 20 List of WHY he is The Most Interesting Man in the World.

aaaand...

As a challenge, I'd love to hear what quotes you come up with. Here was mine from earlier in the week:

Get it? Drinking the Whole Bottle?
Clever, yes? I thought so. (Hand. Back. Pat, pat)

In no particular order:

20. TIE: He could speak French... in Russian. 

AND 

He once taught a German Shephard how to bark... in Spanish.

19. His blood smells like cologne.

18. Bear hugs are what he gives bears.

17. He once went to the psychic to warn her.

16. He bowls overhand.

15. The police often question him just because they find him interesting.

14. If he were to mail a letter without postage it would still get there.

13. Dicing onions doesn't make him cry... it only makes him stronger. 

12. Some say he found the fountain of youth but didn't drink because he wan't thirsty.

11. Once a rattlesnake bit him. After 5 days of excrutiating pain, the rattlesnake finally died.

In PARTICULAR order:

10. He once won a staring contest with himself.

9. If you were to see him walking a chihuahua it would still look masculine.

8. He once had an awkward moment to see how it feels.

7. He lives vicariuosly through himself.

6.  In a past life, he was himself.

5. The contents of his taco refuse to fall from the shell.

4. If opporutnity knocks -  and he's not home... opportunity waits.

3. He once brought a knife to a gunfight just to even the odds.

2.  The last time he flirted with danger, danger got clingy. 

1. He is a lover, not a fighter... but he's also a fighter so don't get any ideas. 

Happy Friday.

Stay Thirsty, My Friends

and remember...

Honorable Mention:

- when it is raining it is because he is thinking... about something sad

- his organ donation card also lists his beard

- his thank you cards have prompted you're welcome cards

- sharks have a week dedicated to him

- he has taught old dogs a variety of new tricks

- he played a game of russian roulette with a fully loaded magnum... and won

- he has never walked into a spider web

- Two countries went to war to dispute his nationality

The Most Interesting Advice in the World

Husband often tells me that I am a marketer's dream.

Nice packaging? I'm sold.
Bright colors with pretty font? Taking out my monies as. we. speak.

But there is one ad campaign that I believe to be far better than any ad campaign ever created and that is the Dos Equis Campaign of The Most Interesting Man in the World. I will assume you all know him since, after all, he is the MIMW but in case you don't, here's an introduction.

Let's review. While telling us how amazing he is we see him playing handball like a boss, not just reading hieroglyphics but telling a joke in hieroglyphics, not just flying some sort of glider plane but being lead bird in V bird formation, and riding on top of a train in some far off, undisclosed location, being charismatic while stitching a portrait of a beautiful Indian woman. Now, let's be honest... don't you want to be him? I pride myself on being a strong woman, a feminist, if you will, but this guy makes me wish I was a man. Well, not all men - just this man - which is what the campaign is all about so I think they met their objective: make men (and this woman) want to be so much like The Most Interesting Man in the World that they purchase Dos Equis to be, well, like The Most Interesting Man in the World, or at the very least, more interesting.

Is it coincidence or fate that a blogger who's blog title is Drinking the Whole Bottle believes a beer ad is the greatest campaign ever created? Or that The Most Ineresting Man in the World's advice sounds strangely as ridiculous as Legra's Laws? Could we be soulmates? I don't know. What I do know is that I wouldn't choose anyone other than MIMW to be DTWB's mascot mancot and so I thought it was about time to spotlight a man/myth/legend who can probably drink (more than) the whole bottle. 

"After drinking the whole bottle, the bottle passed out."

In honor of The Most Interesting Man in the World, I've rounded up the best advice that his beard has been kind enough to impart. In order, here is The Most Interesting Advice in the World. Here we go:

#5 Advice on self defense:

"The right look should suffice."

Teachers and parents know this to be true all too well. It just takes "the look" to let someone know you mean business. Ask my kids. Better yet, ask every student I ever taught. Every. One. They'll tell you that when I gave that look, they should proceed with extreme caution.


#4 Advice on umbrella drinks:

"Unless your drink is expecting rain, you should probably reconsider."

I am a fan of umbrella drinks but I'm dramatic, sassy, and like things that sparkle so I gotta say that my verdict is still out on guys with umbrella drinks. I don't really have a problem with it but I could see where MIMW is coming from on this one.

#3 Advice on the Two Party System:

"The after party is the one you want to attend."

I know this to be true because it is the advice I would have given when I was in my 20's and probably more interesting and less smart because I didn't have kids or responsibilities so I wasn't tired all of the time and if I was tired I'd go out anyway because I could sleep in tomorrow until 2pm if I wanted to and so I went out waaaay more and thus did more interesty things. Now, this is the complete opposite of what I'd say unless the after party means hitting the sheets and not in a sexy way - in a drooling way... and that's certainly not winning me and Most Interesting Woman in the World awards, is it?

#2 Advice on Packages:

"Fellas, leave the tight pants to the ladies. If I can count the coins in your pocket, you better use them to call a tailor."

Just yes. Yes. I like a slim fit but not if I could see your junk. Ewww. Keep that between you and the privacy of your home. I would also add though that the Most Interesting Man in the World should mention the fellas wearing their pants around their ass cheeks. I find this even more inappropriate then the outline of junk. 

And #1... Advice on The Gym:

"Running in place will never get you the same results as running from a lion."

Did you laugh so hard that you spit beer from your nose? I can't. I find this one too funny. Yes, I bet running from a lion would get me pretty motivated; so would running from a bear, a crocodile, or a swarm of bees. Motivated, indeed. Get-a-running.

...and Stay Thirsty, my friends!

Join me later this week, when I countdown my favorite Most Interesting Man in the World quotes.

Follow him on Twitter for some seriously hard laughs!

My World Cup Runeth Over: Take Aways from World Cup 2014

Soccer is not good for your health

Right before the USA/Germany match the other day, I posted this to Facebook but what I want you to pay special close attention to is the first comment I received after my post.

"You guys ready for the 90 minute anxiety attack?? USA!!"

He had hit the nail right on the head. For the next, 90 minutes I would be in a full panic, on the edge of my seat and in desperate need of a horse tranquiler. Tomorrow, when the US plays Belgium, I will be prepared at 4:00 with extra-strength downers.

Women who have had babies should be VERY careful when watching el fútbol 

I say this not because watching hot soccer players for an hour and a half will make you want to procreate more babies because if you are caring for babies right now, you know there is nothing in the world that could get you that hot and bothered. No, I say this because as I was celebrating the first goal that the USA team scored last Sunday during our game against Portugal - which made me caraaazy - I almost peed my pants. Ok, truth be told, I peed my pants a little. My who-has muscles just aren't what they used to be after I had two babies. Apparently, this is a real equation we babymakers have to consider:

I wish I could say I learned my lesson for our second goal that day but I totally forgot to work my Kegel exercises for that one too and let a little pee slide. Oh well. Joys of motherhood. Am I right?!

"We are the World" is not just a song performed by USA for Africa

It is awesomefying seeing so many people around the GLOBE get so passioned about something that has zero to do with guns, wars, or money - even if one idiot thinks it is all a scam to take away attention from Benghazi, a thought so stupid I can't even understand the logic behind it. Can we just make this a month where we all forget that we want to kill each other and enjoy a game where we just bite each other?

Pretty boys aren't just pretty faces

Damn it, Ronaldo. I've heard your name thrown around for the last few years and will be honest. I set out to not like you. You're so cute. And so talented. And so rich. Damn you. And then I started to take notice of some of the stories I heard about you. Nice stories. Good deed stories. You are not just another pretty face that plays soccer like a Greek God with a Maverick-ish gorgeous smile and chiseled arms. You are much more. I judged you too soon, hot #7. I apologize. So what if you take your shirt off and throw it into a crowd... I'll let that slide. Actually, I'm totally fine with that.

Fútbolistas have great(!) names

If I have a third child and he's a boy I have a few names already in the running thanks to soccer players:
1. Alexi (Alexi Lalas) - The name is SO bad ass that even while it sounds feminine it's BAD ASS. Word, Alexi.
2. Leo (Leonel Messi) - I know his name is LIOnel but I like it spelled better with the E. My hypothetical bay, my choice.
3. Teeth (Luis Suarez) - just kidding
4. Santiago (so I could scream SantiaGOOOOOOAL) - Oh wait. I have a son named Santiago already and I've penned this as his soccer nickname so don't be stealing it, bitches.

New Jersey is awesome. 

Tim Howard.
Michael Bradley
Josmer "Jozy" Altidore
Alejandro Bedoya
That's all.

Why Messi is better than Ronaldo, Ronaldo is better than Messi, and no one is better than... 

Let's face it. If you think Messi is the better player you will find clear cut reasons to pinpoint Messi as the better soccer player. If you think Ronaldo reigns, you too can find solid reasons to pinpoint why Ronaldo is the better player. But why do we find it necessary to pit athletes against each other? Especially when we all know that neither is better than Pele.

Finish him

Sensei John Kreese from the Cobra Kai dojo commands these iconic words of Johnny in Karate Kid. I do believe that no greater truth has ever been uttered. You must finish it. Yep, US and Mexico I am specifically talking to you. Mexico you more so. Didn't you learn anything from the US's game versus Portugal that if you let up for even 5 SECONDS the other team can - and probably WILL score. And instead of heeding this message you played the Netherlands like you were on siesta. Everyone thought so. You played on your heels instead of your toes and they scored on you... twice... in the last 2 minutes of the game. Play til the end, people. Finish it.


(Disclaimer: While I delight in using the phrase "finish him" I do not condone Sensei's implementation of dirty tricks aka "sweep the leg")

speaking of dirty tricks...

The real take away I took from "The Suarez Attack"(Suarez's version of "sweep the leg")

Ok, so the actual biting didn't actually teach me anything but we've got to talk about it, right? Because biting... really? From a grown man? My son (who is one) was biting his sister when he was angry that she took his ball from him... did I mention he's ONE. After giving him my own yellow cards a few times, now he's taken a different approach. When he is angry, he still flexes his chompers but chooses to pretend-bite his hand or the couch or another ball and not other people because biting other people to get your way is representative of mental behavior... or vampires. Neither of which is good. If my one year old soon has learned this... you know where I'm going with this, yes?

BUT here's HOW Fifa's handling of "The Suarez Attack" did teach me something. It taught me that we have to give REAL consequences. If I allowed my ONE-YEAR-OLD to continue biting his sister, guess what, he would still be feasting on her daily. If this animal player could bite a chunk out of someone's shoulder on international screens across the world with millions of people watching and walk away holding buckteeth like nothing happened and then in fact, nothing does happen, then I have a feeling this is not the last we've seen as Teethy McGee. Nice job, Fifa.

Moves like Müller

When we were watching Germany play USA the other day, Husband commented on how Germany was on the attack and we were, well to say it nicely, a little relaxed. I said, "See... that's why I like the Germans. Did Ivan Drago want to just box Rocky Balboa? No. He wanted to crush Rockey Balboa, to 'break' him. And that's how the Germans play." And then I realized Ivan Drago was Russian not German. Oops. Forget that analogy. But I still had a point. The Germans have been kicking ass and taking names and they play like every game like their lives are on the line. You gotta respect that. 

U.S. spells "us"

Has anyone else noticed this? That U.S. without the periods, in fact, spells "us." So I can walk around saying that I want "us" to win and it is the same as saying I want the U.S. to win. I know. I'm brilliant. You're welcome.

I Believe that We Will Win

I love believing. Ask Santa Claus... and Jesus. I am a believer. Give me something to believe in and, wholeheartedly, I will. You won't find a more loyal believer anywhere. So thank you, World Cup 2014 for giving me something to believe in.

Now, let's go US! 

Photo Credits:
World Cup Take aways - Gabriel Smith
Finish Him - Meme Generator
Ronaldo

The Advice My Dad Never Gave

My father is a man of little words.

He says only what needs to be said. No more. Sometimes less. Sometimes he just nods or shakes his head. Other times - and certainly the most frustrating - he gives you a one-word response that doesn't really answer your question at all.

"Dad. Where is the coffee?" 

"Yes."

On rare days, I call home and he has lots to tell me and I think IS HE ON SOMETHING? Caffeine? Uppers? ...crack, perhaps? And then I wonder if this is the day of the apocalypse. Are animals running for the hills? Are worms pouring out of the ground to avoid flooding? Because dad has a lot to say today and this is out of form.

I think it is safe to say at this point that you understand, right? He isn't much of a talker.

So for Father's Day when ManCrates, sent out their #DadBrags campaign to brag about some of the best advice Dad has ever given, I wasn't sure how to respond. He has never been much in the "You'll get 'em next time" advice realm. That was more my mom. And just as quickly as I knew that my dad never gave me words of advice, I understood that you don't always have to speak advice to give it.

Release the stress. You were never in control anyway. 

- Steve Maraboli

First I should point out that my dad is not Steve Maraboli. Steve is a writer. Maybe a good one. My dad is Rafael and that was just a quote I liked but I digress. My mom has often said, "Your father will never die of a heart attack." She's right. If you can't see from that picture on the left where he is carrying his small baby in a fucking tree let me spell it out: That man doesn't stress about a thing. He wanders around in this day and age with no cell phone. When we go to the mall, I will follow him around otherwise he'll wander off and get lost and it will take ME hours to find him and when I do find him I'll ask worriedly, "Umm... where were you? I looked everywhere for you." And he'll shrug. No answer.  Shoulder shrug. That. Is. It. I'll realize he was never looking for me, never even realized I was gone in the first place and if he had, it wouldn't have bothered him in the slightest. 

"Travel is the only thing you buy that makes you richer." 

- Unknown

In fact, the only thing he might ever stress about is what cruise he and my mom will be taking next year or what new place they will visit. He loves to travel. He loves to pack his bags and go. He loves airplanes. Without ever saying it, traveling is my dad's purest form of education. Hmmm.... I wonder where I get my travel bug from?

Take pride in what you have and what you do.

My dad has clothes from the 70's in perfect condition. Not a wrinkle. Not a tear. Mint condition. He takes care of everything he owns. As kids we knew not to touch his things without total care. If you borrowed something bring it back as you found it. If you play with something take care of it. He bought us too many toys as kids so we were the house that all of our friends came to to play. Sure plenty was demolished but we also knew that not every child was as privileged as we were to have what we had. The same goes for his work. After Eastern airlines was liquidated due to bad leadership, my father took up work stocking shelves at our neighborhood market for years. He was never late. He hardly ever called out sick. And his aisles were always perfect. Now with kids of my own, I try to instill the same ideas. Take care of the things you have and have pride in what you do. 

"Eighty percent of success is showing up." - Woody Allen

He may not have been Rah-Rah-Rahing louder than any parent but he was at every dance competition my sister and I were in running after us with his video camera. He taped every single mother-effing performance we were involved in which in some years was about 20+ performances. He didn't miss one. At my very first competitive dance performance he was there waiting for me to come on with camera in hand and when my performance started the camera shut off. Battery dead. He stayed to watch but went to the room right after. My mom said he was so upset he didn't get it on video. We both knew. He may not have the words but sometimes words aren't needed. He felt like he let me down even though he was there. For my dad that was always how he showed up. I dare you to find another father who took more pictures and videos of his girls than my father did. He was behind the camera. Behind the lens. Capturing us in a way that didn't need talking. See, he was always there  - just not with advice in the form of words. Words didn't come easily to him but action did.

Life is not meant to be all that serious.

My dad is a silly guy. He played practical jokes on co-workers filling their coat pockets with sugar or leaving silly pictures of animals named after them in their locker.  In the summers, God help us if we wandered to the backyard in the evening after we were showered and in our PJs and he was out there. He would spray us with the hose soaking us completely. We'd run and try to hide behind the pool or in our clubhouse but it was no use. Sometimes I'd fall asleep on the couch watching television with him and he would stick a cigar in my mouth and take a picture of it hanging out of my open snoring hole. Other times he would write on my forehead I LOVE PAPI with a Sharpie marker. The next morning I would wake up and have to go to school with a faded black marker declaration of love for my father on my forehead. I danced on the ceiling thanks to Dad and Lionel Richie.* I learned to take silly pictures but more importantly not to care much for what others thought through his silliness. I remember a time when he still drove and he would put my sister and I in the car to visit my mom at work. She was working as a toll collector and he would drive us all the way there just to drive through her toll and say hi and then keep going. He was the kind of dad that would run from one end of the backyard and take a flying leap over the pool railing into our above ground 4ft. pool, F-L-O-A-T-I-N-G in the air before diving in the pool and bursting out of the water a moment later. He was magical. 

The Advice My Dad Never Gave

There are dads with deep, strong voices that hand out wisdomatic knowledge like brightly-colored gum balls. They say things like, "Be true to yourself" or "be whatever you want to be." That wasn't my dad's way. I'm not at all angry that he wasn't an advice dispenser, in fact, I think I myself could learn to be the kind of parent who practices what they preach without so much of the preaching. My dad never stood on a soapbox and claimed to know it all, never pretended to have all the answers; he just did the best he could - like we all do. 

We don't all have to be dispensers of wisdom nuggets to be good parents. Sometimes carrying your daughter upside down on your shoulders so she could dance on the ceiling is enough. 

* * * * *

"Post your dad at his best to Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram with the tag #DadBrags and win him something awesome." Visit ManCrates for more details. 

* * * * * 

The views and opinions expressed on DTWB are 100% my own. I might be occasionally compensated to provide opinions on products, services, websites, etc.  at which time I will inform my readers of such compensation. However, compensated or not, I always give my honest opinion on those topics or products. 

With that being said, my mention of Man Crates is not a compensated post nor is it a product review, it is simply an opportunity to win a cool prize right in time for Father's Day. 


*Refers to Lionel Richie's 1984 hit "Dancing on the Ceiling"

My New Bestie is an Amazing Lip Sync-er

I often times wish that celebrities were my besties but not in a "I want to be famous" way, more in a "they look like so much fun to hang out with" way.

Rachel McAdams, Rachel Bilson (hmm... both Rachels, interesting), Zoe Deschanel are a few that have found a spot on my Besties Wish List. Recently Jimmy Fallon has headed the list. And through my BF, James (my nickname for him), I have a new friend to add to the list: Emma Stone. 

Recently on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, Emma's lip sync battle was coined it, EPIC. I do believe this to be true.

Come over to Expat Village and check out MY BESTIE, EMMA on Jimmy Fallon

Photo Credit:
Heart (edited by DTWB) - epSos.de

Moms: The Greatest Force of Nature

More and more since I've become a mother I've read blogs, and facebook statuses, and articles, and posts on how some amazing father did some amazing job with his kids by doing his daughter's hair and making her lunch and driving her to school.


REALLY? That's all it takes.

My husband laughs when he goes food shopping with our kids by himself; strangers - both women and men - have physically taken one of our children "off his hands" to relieve my husband of Dadly duties. Then they salute him. Applaud him. Celebrate him. Oooh and Ahhhh him. My husband, with our daughter in a shopping cart and our son in a carrier - neither of them throwing any kind of tantrum - is cheered on by Dad supporters for "giving mom a break" and taking the kids - his kids - for an hour of food shopping. He is revered in a way that would seem as if he just saved them from a burning building. 10th floor. While blindfolded. Carrying 50 pound weights in each arm. Naked. Balls on fire.

LET ME BE CLEAR. I am astonished my the amazingness of the man I married to be a wonderful father and an equally terrific husband on the daily. He is a superstar, rockstar, and moviestar. He is one remarkable parent. But isn't that his job? To be a dad and dare I say, a remarkable one? But I digress, this is not to take away from the GREATNESS of a GREAT dad. He is. Many dads are. But most don't do anything that mothers don't do too. They just get way more credit for, well, parenting.


So today, I don't want my focus (too much) to be on why dads get so much attention for the spectacular job they do but rather, today, I want to remind you, Mothers of why you are spectacular. Why you too should be saluted. Applauded. Celebrated. Ooooh-ed and Ahhhh-ed. Even if it is just a trip to the supermarket.

Here's a Reminder of why you, Mom, are the grandest force of nature:

Because you get migraines and even when you feel like Wile E. Coyote has just dropped an Acme anvil on your head and you've spent the afternoon hovered over a toilet dizzy and nauseous and vomiting, you still try to figure out how to get out of bed and take care of your children.

Because you know when your children have a fever without a thermometer.

Because when your child throws up all over her crib in the middle of the night and screams, "Mami!" You're already there cleaning her up.

Because when your other child gets the fever your first child had, you now check his warm body for a fever every 15 minutes. And can't think of anything else.

Because in the most hellish of weeks with headaches, and fevers, and throat infections you can still plan the world's greatest birthday party and your in-laws visiting.

Because said birthday party is for your second child, who everyone said would get the shaft, but that won't stop you from throwing the greatest first birthday ever.

Because you schedule doctor's appointments and reservations and dinner dates and family outings while making breakfast, drinking cold coffee, and putting away all of the toys on the living room floor. For the third time this hour.

Because you fly home on a plane with two kids under three to two different states and shrug, "Yeah. I'll be ok."

Because you wake up every morning when the sun is still down and dress two kids, feed them, and drive them to grandma's so that you could work a full day and then come straight home to pick them up and work a full evening.

Because every decision regarding your child is the biggest decision you will ever face and so you put a lot of weight into each and every decision you make: natural birth or c-section, start school this year or next, creamy or chunky peanut butter.

Because the things that make you feel normal or better (i.e. excercise, eating, tooth brushing, sleeping, getting dressed, seeing friends) take a back burner to everything they need.

Because you find ways to leave the house without your children noticing so that they won't cry ferociously and without bereathing until their face turns purple and you could see that punching bag thingy in the back of their throat (which is called an uvula) at the idea of you not being there.

Because when you try to leave the house without them noticing, they always notice and your mother-effing heart breaks every. single. time.

Because when anyone says anything even remotely offensive about your kid, you want to deck them.

Because your kids smack you in the mouth, scream in your face, and throw more attitude at you than a diva and you sit there with a bold, straight face and take it.

Because you know when your kid is about to lose their shit at the table and fling a plate full of food like a frisbee and you snatch it before eggs go flying everywhere.

Because you are a mom and a wife and a woman and a friend and a daughter and are on your A game in all of these fields without batting an eye.

Because the reason the kids don't throw (too) many tantrums in the shopping cart with dad is because YOU have taught them patience and how to sit at a table without throwing a fit, all at the expense of your eardrums. 

You are exceptional, mom.

Daily. Minutely. And sometimes you forget that. You convince yourself that mothers are supposed to do these things and be this way so it's easy to take yourself for granted; to forget that what you do every day is an offering of love, an exchange - exchanging a part of yourself and asking for nothing in return. Not all mothers do this. But you do. Remind yourself of this.

No one can do what you do
...except, apparently, really remarkable dads.

The Time I Compared Gratitude to Eggs and Found the Reasons I'm Grateful

There are so many different ways to make eggs: sunny side up, scrambled, deviled, hard boiled, poached, omeleted, quiche-ed, nogged. The same goes for gratitude. You could cook gratitude up for small wonders, big ideas, everyday happenings, once in a life time experiences, people you love, people you don't like.

You could make eggs in whatever different way you choose but one thing will always be the same... you've got it crack it open to get to the good stuff. No one wants to eat the shell.

The same goes for gratitude.

While I understand the idea of listing things we are grateful for, of keeping a gratitude journal, I think these ideas have taken away from the real meaning of gratitude. I could list many small things that I'm grateful for without much thought:

I could also list BIG things I'm grateful for that would be pretty uniform among the lips of many married mothers or 33-year-olds like me:

See? It took me no time at all to whip up these lists. But is that really being grateful? Is that really the idea behind gratitude?

Is that really cracking open gratitude?

I have recently mastered the art of scrambled eggs. And what I realized was holding me back before in my mastering of eggs, wasn't that I didn't add enough ham or cheese or peppers or milk. I had all of the ingredients; I had enough. I just wasn't giving it the time it deserved. I was throwing it all on the pan with a high flame and hoping it would happen fast. I think I've done the same for gratitude. I think, like many things in a rapid fire, technologically advanced, now, please... NOW culture, we've come to think that gratitude works the same way. That if we just throw in the ingredients we've got, it'll amount to something. It might amount to something alright... it just might not sit well for very long.

Yes, gratitude is about being grateful for the gifts we've received, whatever we believe those gifts to be  but the second part - the most important part of gratitude - is to really take the time to understand why we are grateful for those gifts. To get past the shell, otherwise, we risk never really getting to the yolk - the center, the protein, the fat of it, the part that nourishes, the reason we're grateful.

So now let me try really cracking open this gratitude thing again and letting the yolk ooooozey goooze out.

In such a fast moving, one minute egg culture, it's easy to want to take shortcuts; shortcuts that will give us more time, to do more things on our long list of things to do, but maybe, we should let some things simmer. Maybe by letting our gratitude eggs simmer, we discover the real taste of gratitude.   

Through New Eyes

On 9/11, my mother experienced her own hell, her purest fear. It was the day she witnessed towers crumbling and smoke devouring the street where her daughter lived.

Days after, a candlelight vigil would be held in the evening, throughout the country, as a way of coming together, reminding ourselves that we are not alone in times of darkness. Outside with their candle, my parents and our Hindu neighbor down the street where the only ones standing in the night sky paying homage.

My parents being immigrants from Cuba have always loved this country for what their own could not offer them, my mother especially. And that love has trickled down, percolated into my very veins. While there are many things that I think my current address in Dominican Republic does better than the U.S., I cannot turn my back on a place that has given my family everything it is, including my opportunity to live abroad. As much as we the American people (I included) could complain about the injustices of our country, the corruption of politics and politicians we are far better off than many others around the globe. Far better off.

Looking back, my reason for traveling was simple: to see the world. What a simple answer.

What did I want to see?
The Pyramids of Giza? The Great Wall of China? The beaches of Costa Rica? The cafés of Europe? 
Yes. Yes to all of it.

But it was more than sightseeing that I wanted out of travel, wasn't it?
I wanted to know places. To deeply know them. To know its people, its culture, its language. I wanted to know its hidden gems and its whole way of living. Every city, every country has its own distinct breath and I wanted to breathe them in and exhale it out.

But even that didn't seem to fully answer why I wanted to go away. For that I could just have chosen to travel more and travel longer. No, I think intrinsically I knew that I wanted to re-imagine my own way of living. I wanted to see what the world had in store for me that was different than everything I knew.

And now I have, rather now I'm starting. I'm still in the beginning of our abroad adventures but it has already taught me one of the most important lessons: that my home is an amazing place. It has faults and problems, corruption and injustices but couldn't we say as much about most places? About most people? At the core we are all flawed but I don't love humanity any less. It just means we must work harder and not stop believeing that we are capable of great things.

I would say it is my favorite component of having lived abroad so far; the newness in which I can look at my home and honor the many ways it is beautiful. Because it is. Even beautiful gardens have weeds. And sometimes flowers grow through cracks.

Credit:

Thanks to In an Opal Hearted Country for organizing the February Expat Blog Challenge opportunity.

Day 23: Respond: "Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving." - Terry Pratchett

The Black Bean Mambo

You can't take it all with you in this lifestyle. I guess even if you could, that's not really the point. The point isn't to move somewhere different with all your same stuff and try to live the same life you would be living back home.

But for most of us we need something to comfort us when we're homesick, some thing you can bring with you to remind you of home...

For me its Cuban black beans and rice, my mother's recipe. A staple in our home growing up, I was never a huge fan until later in life and it wasn't until I moved out that I made my own. Then Boyfriend Now Husband was crazy about them and would compliment, "These are even better than your mom's. What did you put in them?" My response was simple, "You're not getting this recipe until we're married." This was an ongoing joke between us - my dowry. It included this recipe and a set of pots and pans that my mom jokingly bribed us with upon our betrothal. It was a very nice set of pots but I think the bean recipe is what heavily weighed his decision.


In full confession, I am not the cook in our household. Husband is. He's better at it and less stressed out about it. I tend to run circles in the kitchen racking my brain about what I should be doing next. But not on black bean night. On black bean night I am an Olympic gold medalist at Cuban black bean making. I don't run circles or rack brains because my hands know what to do and when to do it and they do it with grace and ease.

home cooking... nothing like it

The smell of the green peppers boiling in the beans. The perfume of onions and garlic being sauteed into a sofrito (<-- great read on "Sofrito and the Holy Trinity of Cuban cuisine"). The cumin, the bay leaf, the oregano - the union of all of the ingredients spreads through the house like thick molasses. It smells heavenly. It's a smell que puede levantar un muerto - that can raise the dead.

And that's just the aroma. The taste doesn't fall behind: creamy and thick and inky in color there is something too delicious about black beans done right. It is savory yumminess with a twinkle of sweet that mambo dances on your taste buds, swishing and shimmying - they're that good.

Now that we're abroad, it's important to us to still give our kids pieces of home so we decided to make a new Cuban dish once a week. Masitas de puerco, vaca frita, bistec empanizado. Delicious. All of it. But all of them are accompanied by one thing. The beans.

Everything about those beans is home.

Credit:

Thanks to In an Opal Hearted Country for organizing the February Expat Blog Challenge opportunity.

Day 21: "Tastes like home"

A Little Prest-O Change-O

Husband sits down on the couch and throws his feet up on the ottoman. He whooshes out a breath, relieved to be done with most of the settling in to our new apartment. Almost instantly he asks, "So... how long before you want to rearrange the furniture again?"

For someone who doesn't like change, I like change an awful lot.


My room as a kid was a small space with lots of furniture. Being that this was pre HGTV and there was no headquarters for small space ideas to turn to, you would think there wasn't much you could do with such little room. Au contraire. I was a magician. I could pull a reading quarter out of a hat and still have room for a sleeping nook and a writer's station. It wasn't always the most sensible of layouts but it wouldn't last forever. It wouldn't even last two months.

In college, my roommates would come home late night and lit and sling their sloshed bodies onto the couch only to  fall face first onto the hardwood floor. "Who moved the couch?" After a while they started penciling in Jen's Moving Furniture Days t the schedule so that they knew when a change was coming.

Like my Abuelita Dora, who relocated houses more often than an army family (one time she moved to the house next door just to "change it up"), I needed changes, small changes - move the bed there and a chair here and voilà!

Prest-O change-O.

Life abroad is kind of the same thing... just on a larger scale. If you grow tired of your Caribbean motif apartment in Santo Domingo, why not change it up for an Asian themed highrise in Shanghai. Tired of that? Trade in for a place with a European feel in Croatia. Sick of sipping on some café au laits, move to a house with an African concept in Mozambique.

Like David Bowie says, "ch ch changes."

Some people have said that they are envious of the lifestyle we've chosen here. That they would never be able to do what I'm doing. That it takes a certain kind of person. I tend to think anyone could do this - you just have to actually do it. Leap and the net will appear type thing.

Many things about my personality have equipped me for this lifestyle: being a social person helps, making friends easily is a good one, being a writer is huge (for me) since it allows me to spend time alone and process the things I am experiencing. But welcoming change -  maybe not always liking it, but welcoming it anyway - that's the biggest element that has equipped me for life abroad.

 - a little Prest-O Change-O - 

Picture courtesy of Pixabay: a great site for free images

Credit:

Thanks to In an Opal Hearted Country for organizing the February Expat Blog Challenge opportunity.

Day 20: The trait I possess that equipped me for life abroad OR the trait I possess that held me back the most.