the problem with blogger and video

...is that the video doesn't show up when the blog is received by email. Stupid. I'm searching for a better blogging option. Tumblr? Wordpress? Joomla site? We'll see. If you only notice that it's smoother, that will be good. Fingers crossed.

Holy not the same battle cry, Batman

A shameless repost of one of my favorite things. Couldn't help myself. Thanks, Family Guy for hours of entertainment for me and The Pirate. With love from Guadeloupe.

I remember when I used to read the comics in the newspaper when I was young. You know how there are certain words used to display certain actions, like 'kapow!' for a punch, or 'blam!' for an explosion? The thing is, I've realized that action words like these are not universal. Who knew? Outside of the comic strips, there are action words that people use in descriptive conversation. For example, I might say: "We just put the boards in the car, and bang we're ready to go surf". But The Pirate would say: "We just put the boards in the car, crack crack (with a French accent rrrrrr) and we're ready to go surf."

Crack, crack? What the heck is that? There are many more. It makes me laugh to hear them because I'm then forced to really listen to my own choice expressions and in the end they're all just noises.

So there's the comic strip sound words, the daily expression action words, and then there are the animal-imitated-by-human sounds. For example, we in the states all know that cows say 'moooooo', right? Right. And roosters crow like this: 'cock-a-doodle-dooooo!' And sheep say 'baaaaaaaa' and elephants...well, I'm not too sure on that one actually.
The French seem to disagree. Apparently, and I've verified this with childrens' books, the official source of animal-imitated-by-human sounds, French roosters, aka les coques, say, 'Coo-co-ri-cooooo!'

No. No they do not. But perhaps since they are speaking French, well, how can I argue with the sounds of the French language? They make so much sense after all. (read:not pronouncing entire syllables of words does NOT sense make, grasshopper)

I am so happy that somebody somewhere found the following clip from Family Guy (hellooo LOVE that show) amusing enough to post it on YouTube, because I can't yet figure out how to do that on my own. This is Stewie, playing with a classic 70's toy, See and Say. In case you are not familiar with See and Say, I'll explain:

I learned all of my animal-imitated-by-human sounds from See and Say. It's a big round disk with animal pictures on it. You pull a string on the side, and the device randomly chooses an animal, and then samples the sound for you. Something like:

''Cow, the cow says moooooooooooo''. (and it DID say moo because it was an American cow, I now realize. Had I been gifted a European See and Say, I would have been mocked on the playground, surely scarring me for life)

New site to love

This site is fantastic. I can just look up a verb and it lists all conjugations for me, just like that. Très cool! It's been added to my list of 'learning French' sites to the right. The site is called verb2verbe, and as a student of French, I think it's pretty sweet.

I just saw that I can also have this handy gadget on my iphone. Ya gotta love it!

food!

Went with a friend to a fruit farm today on Basse Terre, the western 'side' of the island. (Guadeloupe is actually two islands connected by bridges) It's green and lush over there, with banana plantations, lots of sugar cane, the forest, and the volcano.
Here are some of the fruits we got to take home from the fruit plantation. You get a bag of fruit, and an ice cold fruit drink made from the fruit on the farm...I had white guave juice....mmmmmmmmmmm! Incredible. I can't wait to bring visiting friends. It's a nice slice of life on this island.

May I recommend a watch, sir?

Much to the chagrin of my knees, I've signed up to train for a short distance triathlon here in Guadeloupe. I can do it. It's not really far: swim=.47 mi, bike=12.4mi, run=3.1mi. Seriously, I know I can do it.
Thing is, the first two training sessions were a bit of a disappointment, and I'm chalking it up to island time. Night number one. I call in the afternoon to confirm the time and place. All good. I show up at designated place five minutes early. I wait.

For. Forty. Five. Minutes.

During the minutes, I asked around. Everyone in the other groups was very nice, saying they had never really seen my group at the track. Ok. I called the guy, who said he was coming in ten minutes. He arrives, asks if it's me who's waiting for him, I say yes, and off we go. No' sorry', no 'how long have you been waiting', no 'this is a better time for you to come since I can't get here before now'...Okay. I went with the flow and had an okay workout.

Next day: today. Again, I call ahead and confirm the time, place, and person to look for. I arrive on time. I search the beach. I call the guy, no answer. I call the organization. No answer. I swim alone.

Now, I'm just saying, I could be wrong, but generally speaking, if you hand out a printed pamphlet including a schedule of events and meetings, shouldn't some of them actually happen, and could they possibly happen on time if I gifted the organization some free Timex watches? And if the meetings won't happen, shouldn't there be some sort of, oh I don't know, system, to let people know?
Consider email, perhaps, a lovely invention which allows entire lists of people (aka listserves) to be notified instantly and all at once of any news you'd like to send them.
Additionally- though a bit less advanced- is group texting. Straight to the mobile phone, same concept. I know this works because I watch people here in Guadeloupe texting while driving around the roundabouts allll the time! I'm fairly certain this would be the best method of communication.

All in all, I can't say I haven't started training. I ran. I swam. Plus, the exercise allows me to rationalize this ti-punch I'm about to have with The Pirate, alongside the vegetarian pizza(read:entirely overloaed, half a pound per slice, three cheeses also). So that's nice.
Now, I'll try again tomorrow and get some information from the other running group that seemed much more interesting, and interested.

Rasta Bug

Yeah, we're in the islands. Even the evil chenille caterpillar bugs who eat entire yards in one night are cool looking. Ten of these guys will seriously kill a yard in. one. night. What's fun though is knocking them out of the trees and vines with a broomstick and throwing them all in a plastic bag from the local toy store, and theeeeeeeen telling one of the kids to 'look what I got at the store!' and watch their face as they realize it's a bag full of angry writhing caterpillars with creepy shaped heads and big sucker feet, each one bigger than my biggest finger. HA!
A little cruel? Maybe, but quite harmless.

La Belle Mere

So I've been poking around the interweb as I threatened. I am THRILLED to have found some very cool blogs by stepmoms who want that glass of wine at the end of the day (or by lunch) as much as I do!
I could not have possibly said it better than Stepmother's Milk with this particular post. Which reminds me, why haven't any of my friends thrown me a belle mere shower?

Here's the post:

"Unlike the traditional baby shower, where mama-to-be receives gifts for the survival of the blessed babe, the stepmom shower honors the adult woman thrust into a scary and unknown world and like the infant, is similarly naïve and in need of care. We may have more years on the planet, but when it comes to stepmothering, many of us were born yesterday.

It’s time to start a new tradition.

I’ve been to countless baby showers and it seems that parenting inexperience is honored above more impressive qualities like daring or patience (Isn’t she adorable. She doesn’t even know how the Diaper Genie works. Dear, let me help you). If this is true, then who more deserves a kick-ass party with a bounty of presents, expert instruction and hard liquor than the stepmom, who gets no gestation period at all? No preparation. No handbook. If you’re like me, you just woke up one morning with half-grown kids sleeping down the hall.

It’s time to start a new tradition. There’s no reason why stepmoms shouldn’t be entitled to the same elevation and indulgence, if only for a long afternoon.

But, I’m hung up on one thing: the name. “Stepmom Shower” doesn’t sound all that fun. It’s got a dead ring to it, do you agree? Well, I don’t know about you, but if a party isn’t fun, then why did you waste your time cleaning the house and buying expensive cheese? So, I’m proposing a name change. A title that reflects the spirit and sentiment of the celebration.

Introducing, La Belle-Mere Party!

What the hell is that? She had me up until this point, but now she’s throwing around a foreign language. I’m confused.

Is this what you are thinking? Well, let me explain. First, I blame my mother and so should you. She is convinced (and works very hard to sway others) that the French are far more sophisticated and appealing than Americans. I do agree with her that the French have much prettier words, so there’s that.

Second, and more importantly, La Belle-Mere is actually French street slang for stepmother, so I didn’t just make it up to sound fancy. And translated, it means the mother even more, all the more or more than ever.

Now, I’m no language expert, so the following interpretation is my own (I’m sure my college French professor would shake her head “tsk, tsk” and fail me again). But, when I think of myself as a “mother all the more,” I’m struck with a sense of relief and significance. I am not Mom, “the original” and I will never replace her, but instead of imagining myself as the awkward, shadow figure in the background, I’m standing right beside her with my head held high. The mother more than ever.

I think it’s important that we (myself included) start thinking of ourselves as more, not less. We all bring something to the blended family table. We belong. We have a place. It may take me a while (like years) to truly feel this way, but I’m going to keep repeating it under my breath until I do.

With that, a raise my glass to you, my step-ladies! Here’s to your friendship, good humor and grit. Let the 2008 La Belle-Mere Tour begin! Start clearing your calendars for a trip to Austin. Details to follow."

Oh, just ignore me. Right, you already did that.

Yeah, my blog is about the mostly funny side of starting a new life, in a new country, with a new language, and a new family. I also like to talk about food. This morning however I must focus on one particular topic that is ever-present: my new quasi stepmother status.

To be blunt, it's quite shocking even still to wake up some days and realize that I have responsibilities involving children. Two of them. Under the age of 8. I confess to daydreams of an apartment that had been listed as 'great for one person or a couple without children'. I confess also to longing for a sofa that is free of cookie crumbs, a toilet seat that is always down when I get to it, and just. plain. silence.

Now, there is no way that I'd rather be anyplace else - in general. But at times, yes, I would like to be teleported away. I'm sure The Pirate feels the same way as he's got a lot on his plate as well. But, I do protest that he's had a few years to practice getting used to this. Pas moi. I've been feeling ...well...it's hard to say really as I've been feeling many things, but mostly frustrated, so I turned to the all knowing interweb to see if I could find anything interesting to read about being a stepmom who hasn't had any previous experience with children. I did find LOTS of information. There seem to be a few general types of sites offering information about stepmother-hood. I find them to be in one of the following creepy categories:

a. Way too positive and chirpy and hopeful for me to even begin to relate to. I think these people are not really stepmoms, but rather friends of stepmoms giving the kind of advice only non stepmoms can give, ala 'oooohhhh, it's not so bad..be happy and set a great example!. Okay lady. Spend an afternoon trying to convince a five year old that you don't have the snacks he wants in the house - in French - which you don't speak very well, while he cries on the floor for his mother, and then tell me that again.

b. Just a plain bitch session, and mostly about the mother of the child or children. I just can't get into that. My stress points are my own and they have nothing to do with the mother of my stepkids. Thankfully the relationship with her is good. I really don't believe bitching about the mother makes anything easier for anyone, and really believe it's a harmful thing to do to the children and the ex husband.

The one thing I haven't found yet - and I'm hopeful - is information about how to deal with the normal stresses of being a new stepmom while you are also learning the kids language. Because for me, it comes down to being ignored and I detest that.

In general, it's easier for a lot of people to keep limited conversation with me, or to not try to talk with me. I understand this: I can only get so far in conversation in French, and if you can only get so far in English, well, there you have it. Entirely understandable. The same goes for the kids. Pile on top of that the fact that I'm still a relatively new arrival on the scene that is their everyday life, the fact that I'm not their mom, and the fact that they are human and just simply don't want another adult around who has the authority to tell them what to do, and well....yeah...the amount of ignoring that happens is large. I mean really, they literally just....watch me talk, and then walk away. Or don't even turn their heads when I speak, or act as if The Pirate is the only one in the room.

It's easier for them. I get it. But you know what? It really sucks.
What I realized just recently in an 'aha' moment that left me pretty bummed for the remainder of the afternoon is this: No matter what I do, no matter how fluent in French I become, no matter how much time, energy, and emotion I put into this situation, I will never reap the benefits of being the person these kids turn to for much of anything except a snack. No. It will always be a parent. I will never be the first person they think of when they panic, I won't be an automatic consideration for parent teacher day or anything like that. I'll always be just one step outside.
It's normal. It's par for the course. They have parents. I have no desire to replace or better any parent. It's strictly a matter of realizing, wow, I'm doing all the things parents do, the shopping, the driving to sports, the feeding, the coddling, the book reading, I'll do it all, because any other way just isn't natural to me, I'm not going to hold back...but in spite of these clearly parental actions, I'll always be, as they say in baseball, juuuuuust a bit outside.

I must confess, it's ...well...it's a bummer. Like I said, it won't change what I do, but it sure changes how I feel. I have moments of spitefulness: 'I'm just a babysitter, and for what?'.
So, the question to ask is, what am I going to do about it? Well, I'm enrolling in French school for non French speakers for one thing. Learning on my own simply isn't cutting it. I look forward to being able to understand more and talk back more, both in good situations and bad. That should help tremendously, but it will take time. I'm going to read more from other stepmoms so I don't feel so isolated and/or crazy in this situation. I'm going to ask my cousins who have raised amazing boys what I should expect, because I realize that a lot of behavior is simply 'kids' and not necessarily 'step kids', but how would I know the difference?
Lastly, The Pirate. The coolest guy I know. What to do with him when it comes to all this? To be honest I'm not sure. I think two kids, and having to help me with many things since I'm French deficient, well it's already a lot. That being said, there may be some things we can go over, things that may need to be adjusted now that he has a slightly different type of family. For me it's scary ground to walk on. I mean, if I know nothing, who am I to tell him how things should go?

I'm just going to put on some Bob Marley now, 'Please, don't you rock ....my boat...." Hahahaa...

Dear France, See? Not all Americans make fun of berets. Love, moi.

I just loved this little gem from Bill Maher's show. Speaks for itself, so enjoy!