Parenting
We can do it, we can do it!
Think positive, take lots of deep breaths and be careful not to step on Buzz Lightyear. That’s about the gist of what parenting is all about.
These are stories about parenting from my perspective, that of a work-at-home dad. My wife and I are trying to raise our three children to explore the world at their own pace and learn how to be safe, independent and happy. All in a foreign country – Argentina. And in a world deemed too dangerous for kids anymore.
It’s not easy.
But it can be fun and funny.
Smile and live. That's a good motto.
My son and I laid back on my bed the other day.
It was late in the afternoon and the girls were getting ready to go out and we know what that meant: a good half an hour of waiting.
So we stared at the ceiling and watched the ceiling fan spin round.
“Hey, look at that,” I said, pointing up at a wood beam.
“What?” the seven year old asked.
“A spider, there.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said.
We watched the spider crawl along the beam, and I said, “What if it fell and landed on…” – I raised my arm and let it fall on my son’s chest – … on you?”
He giggled and then did the same motion with his arm and said, “On you!”
We both laughed. [click to continue reading…]
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"What a beautiful book."
My wife and I have been living in Argentina for years, her for 17 and me for 18. Over this time, we have picked up Spanish to the extent that we have incorporated a raft of Spanish words – and amalgamations – into our native English.
Take venced, for example.
I will open the fridge and say, “Uh oh, the milk has venced.”
Venced, of course, is our made-up word based on vencimiento, or Spanish for expiration, as in the expiry date or when you know that the milk is out of date. So you look at the packaging for the expiration date and you read “vto” or “venc” or something of the like and then the date. This triggers in your head the word vencimiento, which you cut short to “venc” and then add the “ed” and, presto, you’ve got “venced.” [click to continue reading…]
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The forest is big and wide.
It happens at times. You run dry, the words don’t come out and you don’t know what to write. So you don’t.
Nothing goes down on paper.
A few starts peter out and you look around for inspiration as a writer. You travel to the coast, to a beach house in a forest of pine trees, to try to write a story, to write anything.
A flicker comes… then it goes.
You’re tired from your work as a journalist and as a father of three. So you let it rest and you don’t write, you sit in the garden-cum-forest. You play with your children and you fix a leaky faucet. You kick the soccer ball really high and your youngest daughter, who is three, laughs and says, “Again.” You do it again. And she says, “Now catch it on your head!” You do. It hurts. But her laugh mends all. It is a full and hearty laugh, and it is just what you needed. So you round up the kids and off you go to the sand dunes in the forest behind your house in Pinamar on the coast of Argentina. And you climb to the heights of the dunes and you jump down and roll and tumble and fall. Your shoes fill with sand and so do your pockets and your ears and your hair. [click to continue reading…]
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