Antropow de la Hoz

Imagine trying to sleep in on a Saturday morning and instead waking up to this:

Here’s how you can tell your kids are way beyond sanity when it comes to Star Wars:

1. They’re willing to spend over an hour in line to see the Star Wars Exhibition which came to Madrid last winter.

2. They are only vaguely aware that Madrid is the capital of Spain, but are surprised their Grandma doesn’t know that Coruscant is the capital of the Galactic Republic. And they can’t all place Australia on the map yet, but even your 3-year old knows that Tatooine lies on the Outer Rim.

3. Dinner conversations revolve around the benefits of the light sabre versus the blaster.

4. At a Christmas Nativity Scene, your three-year old wonders why Obi Wan Kenobi is standing in the manger next to the Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus.

5. Your 5-year old expects you to explain the incoherencies between the Classic Trilogy and the New Trilogy (”How come Obi Wan doesn’t remember R2D2 in Episode IV?”)

6. Your youngest wants to be Darth Vader when he grows up. (Why in the world would anyone want to be Darth Vader?)

7. Your oldest “uses the Force” to “sense” that it was you ringing the doorbell the day you forgot your keys.

8. The most often heard music on the living room stereo is the Star Wars soundtrack (with Hannah Montana a close second), and the piece they are most motivated to practice on the piano is the Darth Vader Theme.

9. If that isn’t enough, you get to hear John Williams all day long on their Wii Lego Star Wars game.

10. You try to make them politically conscious by explaining to them that José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero is the President of Spain and that Mariano Rajoy is the leader of the opposition, and your 6-year old daughter diggs it right away: “I get it, so Zapatero is the Emperor and Rajoy is Yoda!” 

Oh yeah.

Here are three castles that ilustrate our summer vacation this year:

Trakai (Lithuania)

Gruszki (Poland)

Algarve (Portugal)

And, yes! We had a great time! Too bad we’re back to school and work and cold weather!

Proud Mother & Godmother, holding Guillermo (left) and Santiago (right)

“Mommy, why are the cousins dressed up like girls?”

“No, honey, those aren’t dresses, they’re christening gowns. You wore one too on your baptism day!”

“Eeeewwww! Good thing I can’t remember! How embarrassing!”

Kids on pickup truck - aka La Camiona

Castillejo de la Sierra is a small (very small) town in Cuenca, with about 8 inhabitants (no kidding). Well, we happen to have relatives among those 8 inhabitants, and a couple of weekends ago we were invited to spend the day.

Besides a huge meal and plenty of homemade pure alcohol (to call it anything else would be understating), the best part of the day was watching the kids discover FREEDOM.

“You mean we can go exploring around town without a grown up? COOL!!!”

Ah, but the highlight of the day for them was going for a ride on the pickup truck: no seatbelts, no safety seats, no seats at all for that matter, no airbags, no roof, no rules. Just holding on for dear life as we bumped our way over the rough dirt road and ducking whenever we went by a tree.

So as a mother I wonder, why is reckless (albeit slightly) almost always synonymous of fun?

Mommy Cecilia (top left) among 23-year olds

“Kids, I’m going to be home late tonight, because I have a basketball game. I signed up to the Ernst & Young women’s basketball team and we’re playing against PriceWaterhouse Coopers tonight! Wish me luck!”

Four pairs of eyes stare back at me in disbelief. Four jaws drop in astonishment.

“Wait. You know how to play basketball???”

OK, so they creamed us. So what.

Notice I’m wearing sweats - the uniform shorts wouldn’t fit me! Boy, did the kids crack up over that one! My excuse: they only had size S left when I got there.

I'm the one who looks like she's about to pass out. The 16 years since I last touched a basketball have not passed in vain!

Daniel holding the jar with the praying mantis - the shell was supposed to be its bed.

“Come, Mommy, let us show you our new pet!”

That is the first thing I hear when I come through the door. And sure enough, in a jar in the balcony, there it is: a huge praying mantis.

Now, I’m not very big on bugs in the first place. But this thing was pretty scary looking.

“Where did you find it?”

“Downstairs, on the grass.” (There are actually bugs this size here?)

“And how did you get it in the jar? Who picked it up and carried it home?” But I realize as soon as the words come out of my mouth what an absolutely ridiculous question that is. Of course I know the answer.

“Daniel!”, they all cry out in unison.

“But Daniel, sweetheart, remember how Aunt Tere told you to be careful with mantises, because they can bite?”

He nibbles on his lip and looks down at the floor.

“It did bite him, Mommy!” Teresa tells, “And he cried, too!”

“Yeah, but nothing happens!” Daniel defends himself. I feel this is not the time to correct his Spanish transliteration. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Mommy, really!” And then he actually wanted to reach into the jar and take the mantis out for me to take a closer look. This kid is in for some serious animal bites in his life, I’m afraid.

“So”, I conclude, “do you all still want a turtle or is a praying mantis good enough?”

At school, in Kindergarden, they have this thing they call “The Star of the Week”.

Each week a different child in class is the Star, and gets special treatment. For example, he gets to wear a badge saying he’s the Star, be first when standing in line, run errands for the teacher, write the date on the blackboard, etc. The Friday of that week the Star gets to dress up in a costume and one of the parents has to come in and read a story to the class.

We thought something like that might work at home to try and avoid the kids’ constant fighting over who gets to press the button in the elevator, get served cereal first, or come through the house door first. So for about a year now each week one of them is the Star of the Week and gets to do everything first. And, guess what? It works. Most of the time. It’s also exciting for them to go on a “special day” that weekend with one of the parents and do something just the two of them together.

It so happens that this week Julian is the Star of the Week both at home and at school. He just feels SO special I wonder how he’s going to deal with next week being around the bend. At the dinner table, he smiles from ear to ear while telling us about his day (which he gets to do before anyone else, of course).

“Today my teacher gave me a sticker and drew a smiley face on my hand, because I’m the Star of the Week”, he announces proudly.

“Wow! You have a very nice teacher, don’t you?”

He nods. And then he giggles, because there’s something he still finds hilarious: ”And you know what, Mommy? Marita, my teacher, she calls me Who-lee-ANN!”

Adrian, aged 7

This morning, as I am getting ready for work, all four kids come to my room, because they “want to ask me something”. Now, whenever all four kids come together to us for something, we’ve learned to be very wary.

They’re worse than a trade union.

Adrian is the official spokesperson: “We want to ask you for permission to have two pet turtles. We are all going to be very responsible and take good care of them. And before you say no, so please, Mom, don’t make that face, we want to tell you that we have decided to pool all our Points together (more on our Point System some other time) to buy the turtles and get food for them, and that we’re going to save Points every month to continue buying food for them. I know how to change the water in the aquarium because I’ve seen it done and it’s easy.”

I’m aghast.

“Have you talked about this to Daddy?”

“Oh, yes, he thinks it’s a great idea and that we should try and convince you.”

“But, what about when we go on vacation? Who’ll take care of them then?”

“Yeah, well, that’s the only thing we haven’t solved yet. I was thinking of asking Grandma Malena if she wouldn’t mind”.

“Hmmm, you know Grandma doesn’t particularly like having animals at home… Well, you’ll just have to talk to her first.”

And that was that. Until 15 minutes later, when I’m rushing out the door, and Adrian stops me on the threshold.

“Grandpa feels sorry for animals.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said Grandpa feels sorry for animals. Remember when that stray cat showed up in Collado?” I nod. I’m going to miss my bus and I still don’t know where this is going. “He kept saying, ‘poor cat, poor cat, let’s feed it’, remember? So, maybe if I tell him that our turtles are going to starve while we’re on vacation, he’ll feel sorry for them and take care of them for us.”

A few minutes later, while sitting on the bus on the way to Madrid, I ponder the whole thing. And I realize that Adrian has (a) set a clear goal (turtles), (b) obtained popular support (siblings), (c) secured the necessary funding (Points), (d) hired a lobbyist (Daddy), and (e) manipulated a third party to serve his needs by leveraging on a weakness (Grandpa).

And then it really hits me. A chill runs down my spine and fear grips my stomach. Oh, no. Please, no.

We have a politician in our family.

Adrian, aged 3 and a half back then, comes to our bed in the middle of the night because he was having nightmares.

Adrian in 2004

He crawls under our covers and tells me that at school that day they had watched a cartoon during their rainy recess about a boy who comes home and his parents have turned into pigs. Apparently that had really bothered Adrian and that was why he was having nightmares that night.

When I asked him why he found that story scary, he answered, “Because, what if it happens to me? What if I come home one day and you and daddy have turned into pigs?”

“Adrian, honey, that only happens in stories. People can’t turn into pigs!”

“Why not? Catterpillars turn into butterflies, don’t they?”