A whole year?

Who'll drink the milk?

The worst part about having no kids left at home? We're going to have to start buying milk in fractions of gallons and that's what old people do. The milkman delivered quarts of milk to my grandparents. Quarts! I remember bringing the quaint little cartons into the house and wondering why they even bothered with such small quantities. Christopher drinks a quart in one sitting. We used to buy two gallons at a time, then finally realized that we needed only one at at time. I have a feeling I'll be dumping partially consumed gallons of milk that have gone sour until I can ease myself into buying half gallons. But quarts? Old people buy quarts because there's no one left at home to drink it all up before it spoils. No one left at home.

Paella

That's what Steve and Alicia had for dinner last night. They bought the stuff the night before, so there was a clear container of squid eyes looking back at me every time I opened the refrigerator. I'm a bit squeamish with seafood, probably because the only kind I had growing up was the occasional fish stick and red snapper at least one Friday during Lent. I think my biggest objection is that I don't enjoy knowing that I'm eating the entire organism - it's easier to fool myself if I'm eating relatively unidentifiable parts.

After dinner at an Italian restaurant, Christopher and I came home to a very fishy smelling house and two extremely satisfied eaters. Steve was in heaven and Alicia said it was very good. She sounded sincere and not merely polite. I was full so didn't taste it, but I promised that I'd at least taste the rice today. Because I wasn't home when they made it, I don't know how they did it. The grocery bags contained mussels, shrimp, squid, some sort of white fish, peas, canned tomatoes, and I'm not sure what else. Steve said he'll definitely make it again, but he'll have to import some fellow diners. Like his athletic ability, his adventurous sense of taste was not passed down to his children.

Thanksgiving

Alicia had her first Thanksgiving and Chloe had her first no-Thanksgiving. Alicia would have been bored to tears if she wasn't so polite, so instead she was just patiently bored. It was a quiet Thanksgiving with only a few adults and a four-year-old girl. Charming as we all were, I think the quiet Thanksgiving was a letdown for a first-timer. If we'd been good hosts and had been concerned about producing a memorable first-time Thanksgiving for this Spanish girl, we would have gotten drunk and thrown china at each other while screaming that mom always liked you best.

Chloe was happy to get real mashed potatoes at the other exchange student's house. I fogot to ask about turkey and stuffing. She said she missed the crescent rolls, corn, and apple pie at Nana's. So did we. I told her that Alicia was probably bored at Thanksgiving dinner and she identified with that: being with a family group and not only not understanding the family things they're talking about (and having no desire to, really), but the language.

Chloe's Spanish teacher gave her a surprise test at lunch, then told her to come back after school to take another one. So Chloe did, but the teacher didn't show up. The exchange experience has made Chloe a little more assertive, and I'm guessing that next time she will just say no, I won't come back after school. The Spanish teacher will randomly start talking to Chloe in French. Chloe politely reminds her that she barely speaks Spanish and she certainly doesn't speak French. She has, on more than one occassion, suggested that this teacher is insane. Nice, but insane.

Gustatory concerns

Eating has become a game for Chloe. They eat too much, not enough, at the wrong time, too slow. But if they eat too fast, they’re implored to eat more. Why aren’t you eating? Are you sick? Are you unhappy? You can’t eat raw green beans, you’ll get sick. You can’t eat a peach before lunch because you won’t be hungry in two hours. Every day there is some discussion about some aspect of eating.

I’ve never been overly concerned about what the kids eat or don’t eat. Many parents are obsessed with how much their children eat and the ratio of this food group to that food group. Justifiably so in some cases where the kids’ eating habits jeopardize their health, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Our kids were always healthy and average-sized so it didn’t bother me if they didn’t eat a lot for lunch because there was always another meal on the horizon. If they were hungry, they ate, if they weren’t, they didn’t. And it didn’t take them long to learn that if they didn’t like the perfectly normal food we had for lunch, Mommy wasn’t going to be making them something special to take its place and they weren’t going to get cupcakes instead. And that no one else at the table was interested in hearing if they liked today’s repast or not. Eat it or don’t, just don’t bother other people with your preferences because there are enough other things at the meal to fill you up. Ever hear an adult sit down at your table and say, “Yuck! I hate green beans!” Let’s hope not.

That said, our kids have never liked peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (no one in our family does), so I wouldn’t make them PB&J and expect them to eat it. And I did provide alternatives if we were having fried oysters and cooked spinach or anything else not universally enjoyed at mealtime (because I’m certainly not going to be eating fried oysters or cooked spinach, either). Life is too long to spend it eating things you don’t like, but there’s a difference between disliking the taste of something and being a finicky eater solely for the attention it generates.

So, Chloe is used to trying everything, keeping quiet about what she doesn’t like, and making a meal out of whatever is left. That’s what Alicia does here and it works great. If she’s unsure of something, she’ll take a little. If she doesn’t like it, she doesn’t finish it and I get the hint. The other night, however, I asked her if she liked cooked spinach. She said yeah, sure, so I cooked some for her and Steve. But she thought I meant raw spinach in salad (which we had for her birthday) and was a bit concerned when she saw the little bowl of slimy green glop instead of the big bowl of fluffy green goodness. I told her not to worry because you couldn’t pay me to eat the stuff when it’s been cooked, either, and Steve would be happy to eat it all. Pretty simple, but it appears that that’s not how it works when she’s at home.

Or does it? It’s hard to tell about these little familial things. For example, we don’t know if her parents are concerned about their exchange-students’ eating habits because they are responsible for someone else’s child and so tend to go overboard lest the student develop rickets or scurvy on their watch, or if they’re just obsessed about what people eat or don’t eat, and when they eat it or don’t eat it.

One month gone

Chloe left one month ago today. She said Ana bought ice cream today (after asking them if they liked it) and she and Abby ate almost the whole carton. They didn’t even have to make up a reason – Abby told them it was in celebration of their one-month anniversary.

Chloe got her uniform skirt yesterday but said it’s too long, and they didn’t mention the length when she bought it (the world of custom-tailoring is new to us). I don’t know what it looks like so I don’t know how easy it would be to shorten it. I told her to ask kids at school because they would know how to alter the uniform they’ve been wearing since they were three years old and Ana might think it looks just fine the way it is.

Chloe and Abby also got up the nerve to tell Vicente and Ana, nicely, that one more bite of paella and they will throw up. She said the rice is just too fishy tasting (with no spices to mask the flavor) and they have it all the time. Vicente and Ana seem to be overly concerned that they get enough to eat, so I’m not sure what they’ll feed them. But Chloe said she’s had no problem finding things to eat and is certainly not used to being catered to.

Talking to Chloe on the phone almost every day makes it seem like she’s not very far away, and having Alicia here fills the teenage-girl void. When Alicia leaves for the next family Steve is going to have a really tough time because his morning routine won’t be needed anymore. It seems like Chloe’s been gone forever and that she left just yesterday. One month seems like a long time, but nine more months seems like a lifetime yet to come. But Vicente invited us to visit and mentioned that July 7 (The fiesta of San Fermín, the running of the bulls) would be a good time. So I have something to look forward to and a place to stay in Pamplona. From what I've read, a year in advance is too late to book hotel rooms in Pamplona during the fiesta, and the picture on the left is why (those are people in white, raising their red scarves in the streets of Pamplona).