Jesus is a Facebook Junkie

Juan Noir
My Guapo Paramedic Angel

Stella ignited her own accident investigation after I shared the police report with her.  She cracked-up upon reading that I told the paramedic, Juan Noir, I was 24 years old, and that I didn't know if I was married.  She found a Facebook picture of the guapo caballero, and she laughed even harder, blaming me for lying about my age and marital status since the guy was young and attractive.

Next, she found Jesus's full name and quickly searched him on Facebook.  He wasn't hard to find.  He appears to have an addiction to social media and posts 7-17 threads a day.

Jesus
Maybe he dropped his cell in the lake?

Upon seeing his incessant timeline, my first thought was that he must have been on his cell phone and probably looking at FB when he hit me, so I went back in his history and found that on November 18th, he published 7 posts.  What a boludo!  I can't believe I just called Jesus an asshole!  😂

But seriously, it made me angry that as I was potentially dying from his bonehead maneuver, he was being entertained by videos and enjoying chatty messages with friends.

I imagined Homeboy holding the steering wheel with his left hand and stepping on the gas while simultaneously looking down at the phone in his right hand and gently using his thumb to scroll up through the latest FB posts.

I imagined his surprise as my head busted his windshield and his shock when he felt the thump of his car running over my back and shoulder.

My hypothetical scenario made me angry at him for the first time.  I always assumed it was an accident and that he didn't hit me on purpose, but not because he was too involved with his cellphone and Facebook.

HAPPY Home Therapy
Frozen Corn on My Knees
Gym Equipment Made from Trash

My anger and obsessive reenactment lasted the better part of the day, and it was pulling me away from my happy self.
 
As I did my physical therapy, I was angry that, aside from buying a new windshield, Jesus's life continued on merrily.

As my fingers passed the concave gap in my skull, I was angry that my head needs another surgery with additional risks.

I fantasized about meeting Jesus, taking his cell phone and throwing it into a large, dirty, unretrievable, body of water.  I imagined this over and over.  It felt wrongly satisfying.

A fair warning to those of you who are not into it, I am going to get a little religious.  Being married to an atheist, I am extremely cautious about pushing my religious views on people, and I respect others' beliefs.  I appreciate you respecting mine, yet if me writing about God makes you uncomfortable, no hard feelings.  It is all good!

Stella - Center - the Investigator!

This isn't the person that I am or the person that I want to be.  I needed to stop, but I was having trouble finding my happy place and peace.

I knew that I needed to forgive him, but in the moment, I couldn't.  The previous night I watched a short segment on The Crown with the evangelist Billy Graham telling the Queen that when you can't forgive someone, ask God to forgive you, and pray for the person.  With all of the exercising and therapy I do every day, I have plenty of time to pray, so I tried it.

On my 38 minute afternoon jog to the bandera, I prayed for forgiveness and for Jesus.  I honestly gave it over to the divine Jesus.  It was amazing.  As my feet pattered home, I was filled with peace.  I smiled with joy.  The burden was lifted.  Now I want to hug the guy... and maybe throw his cellphone into a dirty lake.  😜

Bags of Food are BRILLIANT!

Oh so good!

We buy our fresh milk in one liter bags.  Fantastico!  We buy yogurt in bags!  Estupendious!  We buy ketchup, mayonnaise, mustard, and salsa golf in bags!  Barbaro!  We buy pickles and olives in bags!  Espectacular!

Why don't we have bagged food in the US?  This is a million dollar idea!!

Every week in Seattle I fill a giant 96 gallon size recycle bin with huge milk jugs, glass pickle jars, plastic mayonnaise containers... The list goes on and on and on.  If you live in the States, you know it.  Why do we waste so much time with enormous bulky containers that need to be cleaned, recycled, processed...  It is an enormous misuse of our natural resources.

Why not stick everything we can in bags?  It is cheaper for the businesses and consumers.  Bags can also be recycled, and they minimize debris.

And, as an added bonus, it is a lot easier to squeeze every last drop out of a bag of mayonnaise than scrap the sides of an awkward jar.

Busted!!!

And - if you drop the bag, no pasa nada.  Pick it up off the floor and keep going.

The milk stays fresher in one liter containers.  You can cut the hole in the tip to whatever size works for your family, and if you have small kids they can pour it themselves - or just drink straight from the bag! 😱 Yikes!  

Mothers' Day FAIL

I hope all you mamas, grandmamas, and future mamas had a fabulous Mother's Day!  I knew my kids weren't planning much, but I imagined I would take advantage of the day.  We previously prepared, sent off, and enjoyed our annual Mothers' Day video for the Grandmas, and I knew Antonio had something in the works because I was not allowed to enter the kids' room.

As I was preparing breakfast, Antonio and SoJo put their gifts on my chair.  It was sweet.  SoJo delivered a hastily written note that promised a 5 minute back massage anytime I wanted.  My petite little girl is actually pretty good at giving short back massages.  I was thrilled, especially with the scapular pain I ignore on a daily basis.

Carmela quickly chimed in and said that her gift to me was also back massages and extra prayers.  Thank you very much.  I am happy to cash in on both.

Maybe it's my fault...  I gave the kids big glasses
of Coke for the first time just to see what would happen.
My Mother's Day FAIL.

When I saw SoJo drop her dirty dishes in the sink after lunch, I decided to request my first massage.  She giggled, walked over to where I was sitting, and with two fingers she instigated and completed her massage in less than a second.  She thought this was hilarious and off she bounced to play in the other room.  Mothers' Day FAIL.

All day I hoped the kids would volunteer to do the dishes, set the table or prepare a meal.  Mothers' Day FAIL.  When dinner was over and no volunteering had ensued, I assigned them individual tasks... Antonio, wash the dishes.  SoJo, dry and put away the dishes.  Carmela, clean the table and sweep the floor.  It all got done, but next time I an not waiting for volunteers.  They can help with the cleaning after every meal, just like a regular day.

On Monday, I decided to try my back massage luck again, this time with Carmela.  After lunch, I asked, and she responded, "Yeah, but could you give me a shoulder massage too?"  Uh... sure?  Then she roller skated down the hall, and that was it.  Mothers' Day FAIL.

So what was Lil Antonio's gift?  It wasn't a back massage.  It was a wrapped up  McDonald's Happy Meal toy he got with his grandparents last summer.  Y'all are jealous.  Check out my sweet ride!!  I play with it several times a day.  It is pretty awesome.  No strings attached.  That's it.  Happy meal toy.  Personally I enjoy using it to drive the cat nuts-ball crazy, but that's cool!

Oh yeah - and Adam...  True, I am not his mother.  That would be really weird.  He sent a picture after he had spent the day hiking to amazing vistas with the WhatsApp message to the family, "Happy Mother's Day to you all!  I was thinking you when I was hiking to the top of this mountain on Crete."  I am laughing out loud as I write again... Mother's Day FAIL.

Photo evidence of the foto!!  Ha! Ja!

Five days later, I have yet to enjoy a back massage or a solitary hike on a Mediterranean Island, but  today Carmela asked for a pack of gum.  I told her she could sweep half of the house, and I would give her a pack with five pieces of watermelon flavored Extra.  She decided not to take the deal, but then she offered to give me a back massage in exchange for a pack of gum.  I laughed.  Really?  I thought that was my Mother's Day gift, and now you want a pack of gum for it?  Off she skated.  Mother's Day FAIL.

When Adam Is out of Town... the Cook Gets LAZY!

Beets and cheese on toasty grilled bread!

While Adam is enjoying his annual European work vacation, I bust out the quick and lazy recipes he doesn't favor, like beet sandwiches!  They are SO freaking fantastic, and he doesn't like them.  I don't know what his problem is??

Imagine, grilled feta or goat cheese on buttered sour dough, with a thick beet slice in the middle.  In Argentina, we go with whatever sliced cheese and whatever bread, but it is all good.  Sprinkle on some black pepper, and you are rocken it!

More olives please!

We also savor the panaderia's fresh pizza crusts.  We load them up at home with meat, cheese, and olives.  The kids are crazy about olives, and Adam can't stand them, so we olive it up on everything.

Oh the delicious salty preservatives!

And finally. the grand finale!  Top Ramen!!!  The salty, fried, noodle goodness packed with MSG and a mountain of other horrible things...  This is a special treat for our kids.  It is not something my heath-conscience self buys regularly, so to make myself feel better, I serve it with an equal amount of vegetables, and I enjoy the kids enthusiastic squeals of glee.  Personally, I enjoy the 3 minute cook time.  Fabulous!!







I compliment everything with a giant salad, so I am happy.  I throw in some extra lentils or walnuts for protein and call it done.

Immigration... How long can it take?

Argentina immigration was so enamored with our family in April, they did not let us leave the country.  They stamped us out, then had second thoughts at the border, canceled the exit in our passports and turned us around.  This calamity meant that our visas expire on May 10.
 

For the last week, it has been locura, madness, as the kids and I try to renew our visas and stay legally!!!  

Day 1 - Friday, 4 de Mayo - We have 6 days left in the country on our current visa. 

I pull the kids out of school.  I miss physical therapy.  We get to the immigration office at 7:30 AM.  We are first in line.  I get processed.  Antonio gets half way through the process, and ... everything goes black.  The electricity in the entire city was cut.  They sent us home.

Two and a half hours later, the lights are back on, and we return, only to be turned away.  The lights in the office are still off and the computer technician is working on the "system."  They tell us to come back on Monday.  

I am a little annoyed that I have to take my kids out of school again?!?!  A compassionate woman pulls me aside, and on the down-low she tells me not to bring the kids.  Cool.

Day 1 - Sitting in the dark

BORING

Day 2 - Monday, 7 de Mayo - We have 3 days left on our visas.

GO HOME!

I show up at the office at 9:15, after physical therapy.  

There is a sign on the door - Systems Are Down.  Pardon the bother.  WHAT??  I go in the office and talk to the couple sitting back enjoying mate and a day off with pay.  They insist I come back... tomorrow... with my kids.  Yup, I have to take them out of school AGAIN.  LAME.

Day 3 - Tuesday, 8 de Mayo - We have 2 days left on our visas.

The kids and I rendezvous at 9:10 at CIK.  We walk to immigration.  It is PACKED.  Everyone and his mother are trying to get the work done from the last week.  We inspect our place in the crowd.  Finally it is out turn and just in time.  They only process 10 people a day for visa issues, ?!?! and we are numbers 8, 9, and 10.  Everyone after us gets turned away.  Thank goodness I was processed on Friday, or I would have been unlucky number 11.

The kids place each fingerprint on the mini scanner which takes nearly an hour ?!?! then Adam picks them up and takes them to school.  

I am handed our four invoices which I need to pay at the National Bank two blocks away.  The line is endless.  The waiting room is overflowing.  People are spilling out the door, I take a number and wait.  I only have two hours before I have to pick up the kids from school.  I don't think I will make it. 

There is one line that is moving.  I decide to stand in it and play my, "Gringa, Extranjera, I don't know what I am doing," card.  Twenty minutes later I am at the front, I explain my situation, and the guy gives me a new number - with priority.  The Gringa card worked!  Ten more minutes, and my special number pops up on the screen.  People are always happy to take my money, so paying the bills takes less than three minutes.  

I trot back to Immigration with my stamped receipts and hand them over.  I am told to wait "un ratito."  Fifteen minutes later, I look at my watch.  I have 13 minutes to get home and get in the car to pick up the kids from school on-time.  I ask if I can come back tomorrow, and receive a crazy-eye, "Si!"

I run home, down a half liter of water and with a minute to spare, I get in the car and pick up the kids... in the same workout clothes I put on at 5:30 in the morning, smelly, and starving, but I made it on time!  Whoot!

Day 4 - Wednesday, 9 de Mayo - One day left on the visas.

I show up at Immigration; it is packed; I am recognized, and within five minutes I have my papers and success.  

Then, standing in the middle of the room with 25 people watching, they ask about my husband... Why wasn't he here?  Why didn't we renew his Visa?

Well folks, with one day to spare, he is boarding a plane in Buenos Aires this evening and leaving the country.  He needed a vacation (and to teach a workshop), so he is off to the lovely Grecian island of Crete for the next 10 days.

Must be nice.  Peace out Babe!  Next time I am going with you!!!

Day 3? I have lost track...

So what do the kids think of all this...

Carmela - "Immigration - not recommended."

SoJo - "They should turn the immigration office into a bouncy house made out of marshmallows.  Then people would be more excited to go there."

Caleb Antonio - "Never go to Immigration because it is the boringest place you can go to.  Never go.  Ever."

Peanut Butter is Nuts!!

We brought a jar of peanut butter with us from the States because we didn't think it would be easily available, and we were right.  The supermarket shelves are filled with Dulce de Leche and mermelada, but peanut butter can not be found.  I hoarded our sole jar and only let the kids have a nostalgic nibble periodically.  This was most difficult for Carmela who is a peanut butter junkie, but we survived.

In February, we delightfully discovered a little market off the beaten track that sells the gooy brown goodness, and we bought one jar to discern its quality.  It was perfect!  Not as sweet as the USA, yet rich in creamy flavor.  After that, it was on.  We gorged.  Everyone could eat as much as they wanted because we could always buy more.  And buy we did... Every week or two on our way home from mass and the carniceria we loaded up, two jars, three jars, four jars, whatever they had on the shelf.

See!!  Gringos love the Pasta de Mani!

During Jamie and Hans' visit, I ducked in the mini market, grabbed the only three jars on the shelf and set them in front of the astounded cashier.  She was in awe at our constant consumption, so I tried to deflect the blame on our friends visiting from the USA.  Jamie was listening in the doorway, and she threw me under the bus!!

"We just arrived!  We haven't eaten any of the peanut butter!  It's not our fault!" I admit; she was right.

When we got home, the Kiesermans decided to try it.  Over the next few days, they didn't eat all of the peanut butter, but Nina did put a good dent in it, and I was happy to take photos and share pictures with the cashier on my visit the following week - when we bought four more jars. 😂

Peanut Butter Tales from the Kids

Caleb

I do not like peanut butter. The peanut butter here is horrible. It is so sticky and creamy. We eat four KING boxes in one week. It is CRAZY. Everybody else thinks it's yummy, but I don't. I like it more in Seattle than here.  

I think with pancakes and peanut butter, it is fine. I think maple syrup and pancakes tastes better with peanut butter. They don't have maple syrup here.  My dad had to make it with fake maple flavor from home. It is not as good as real maple syrup at home. 

I like to write in cursive. 

Sofia

Instead of going home for lunch for two hours on Mondays, Caleb and I stay at school for special group activities called Taller. On the first day of Taller, I brought a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  Everyone thought I was crazy, and many of my friends didn’t even know that peanut butter existed. 

Yup - that is a splot of peanut butter on my cheek!

Some people said it was gross, so I responded with sass as sticky as peanut butter, “Why do you think it’s so bad? Have you ever tried it?!?!?”  

Since it was so weird and everyone thought I was crazy, the next Monday I asked Mom if I could have something something different.  She said, “Yes,” so I brought a miga.  A miga is a type of Argentinian sandwich. I like migas with pineapple and ham.  I brought one with ham and cheese.  Nobody thought I was crazy.  Most people buy mini pizzas, pasta, or milanesa from the school cafeteria.  

Next Monday, I am going to bring peanut butter again because…

PEANUT BUTTER ROCKS!

Carmela

Peanut butter; the main item of my diet. Where would I be if this glory had not descended upon me? 

Even Dad loves it - on bananas!

Yeah. Pretty crazy. I am not kidding. It's sort of embarrassing how much peanut butter I can fit in my stomach. Then again its pretty fun being able to say how many relationships our family has sparked due to peanut butter!  We made great friends with the shop owner of the corner market.  It's still funny seeing her face when she sees how much we buy, “Five tubs of peanut butter please. See you tomorrow!”

But of course that’s all in Spanish, so it would be, “Hola, Buen dia. Cinco botellas de pasta de maní por favor.  Gracias!  Hasta mañana.”

Sounds crazy but we eat around a bottle ever two days, and we buy the King Size jars of Mani King! 

Now we are the "Loca, gringa familia, whose mom fue atropellado de un auto y comen un monton de peanut butter!"

We have made our mark.