When life gives you lemons you are supposed to make lemonade. The past couple of days seems like all I’ve been drinking is lemonade – and the really sour kind, filled with lots of yucky pulp (I hate pulp), no sugar added, and after I’ve brushed my teeth, no less.
Spoiler alert: I’m not sure I’m going to be able to find anything funny to spin in today’s blog. In fact, I may not even publish this – we’ll see.
The past couple of days here, weather wise, have been beautiful. The humidity has finally taken a break and doesn’t hit you over the head when you walk out of your house in the mornings. People here call it the “north wind” – which is some sort of magical cool breeze all the way from Canada. I’m not sure they literally mean that it comes from the physical location of Canada, or that’s just their way of saying it comes from a cooler climate North of us. I don’t really care.
But I’m having a really hard time lately making sweet and sparkling, refreshing limonada. Rather than enjoying this north wind, it’s making me realize how much I miss our home back in the Chicagoland area – where it’s Fall and getting cooler and I’m sure all the leaves are changing into their beautiful Autumn colors of oranges, yellows and browns. Here it’s green, green and green – which is ironic that I’m complaining about that because green just so happens to be my favorite color.
Does anyone know the secret to making nectarous, satisfying limonada – all the time, day after day? If anyone has this secret limonada recipe – please share it so I can email you with the subject line: “liar, liar pants on fire”. Trying to make sweet limonada every day is really hard and exhausting. Today, I’m tired (and ironically, now I’m thirsty).
So everything has been sour lately. Like this past weekend we went out to dinner with one of my fellow mom’s at the school (you’ve met her in a previous blog) – her husband and two kids. We had a great time, the food was good and the company was even better. But I’m having a hard time savoring the sweet because although I appreciated the fact that we were making new friends, it makes me miss our friends back home even more. I miss the tapas dinners and the ridiculously huge sangria glasses and the oreo balls and the homemade crab rangoon and the game nights with gym friends and the laughter and the wine and the Pomegranate Cafe lunches and dinner with old buddies at Cooper’s Hawk.
Obviously now we do not live near family anymore. I figured the fact that I’ve lived far away from my parents now for – my goodness it’s been almost 17 years [OMG now I’m really depressed] – would prepare me to handle living far away from all family. Yeah – not so.
I miss our old house and neighbors. I was excited to move into this new and bigger home in Mexico – but lately I miss all the memories that the old – and smaller house – had. I miss our neighbors who would send down their kids to shop at our lemonade stand, or simply come down to keep me company while I was bored out of my mind manning our garage sale. I miss our next-door-neighbor who finally got a dog literally a few weeks after we had moved out (seriously, bad move on his part as he missed out on loads of free canine services – including miles and miles of free walks). I miss our old school and parent organization – and I miss only worrying about the normal school stuff regarding my children (are they learning? behaving? getting along? eating their lunch?) as opposed to the added stress of worrying about them here (are they learning? behaving? getting along? fitting into this culture? making friends through the language barrier? feeling involved? missing their friends?) I miss my hubby’s old job – which he really enjoyed and was surrounded by great co-workers. And I worry EXTRA on his behalf because frankly – not much makes him worry so I feel I need to worry EXTRA-extra to make up for his lack. How pathetically sour is that?
And I’m not even sure I have the right to sit here and whine and complain. We agreed to this situation – how can I sit here now and cry about it? We all have those days – the days where you wait until you’ve dropped the kids off at school before you cry – and I’ll admit some of my tears this morning were due to the recent Yahoo article I read that Downton Abbey might end early after season six. Seriously, I’ve gone through an entire box of Kleenex already thanks to those bastards at PBS.
I knew these days were going to come – where I’m sad and I miss everything and everybody and don’t want to fit in here anymore. I don’t want to figure out how to navigate the meat department at the local grocery store and how to cook all those different cuts of… whatever it is they are selling. I don’t want to have to learn to drive aggressively comfortably so that the other cars on the road stop taking advantage of my courteous driving manners. I don’t want the feeling of walking around with pepper spray primed in my hand to become complacent.
All I’ve got this morning is sour lemons: like the fact I’ve got the window open next to my desk – and rather than enjoying the sunshine and the cool breeze – I’m realizing how the sunlight is highlighting just how dusty my monitor, keyboard and desk are – wow, it’s really disgusting and now my eyes are itchy. Rather than appreciating how much joy and fun our two little gatitos are bringing into our lives, all I can think of is that I just wish they’d stop leaving squishy half-eaten lizard carcasses strategically placed on the floor where I continue to step on them (always without slippers, of course). And I wish they’d leave the lizards alone because those lizards are the natural predator of cockroaches. As far as I’m concerned the lizards are more than welcome to live with us – but the cats eat the lizards and I’m left to fend off the cockroaches by myself (I’ll be honest here, I’ve only come across one cockroach since we got here – and I lost, by the way – but one cockroach is 99 too many.)
Green leaves staying green, Canadian wind, dust, pepper spray, cats vs. lizards vs. cockroaches – this is what I have to share with you today. I’d apologize for my whining – but I’m not because I doubt anyone will read this all the way to the whiny end – except for my awesome mom – who unfortunately gets a double dose of this sad meandering as she gets to have to listen to all of this on the phone, as well as read about it in my blog. Lucky her (although, all kidding aside – lucky me).
I’d try to leave on a positive note and find the lemonade message here: we are so lucky to be here and experience this adventure, we are so lucky to have amazing family and awesome friends back home, so lucky to live in this beautiful house with the dusty electronic equipment, blah blah blah, yada yada yada. And, the gold standard of the lemonade-making-message?: things could always be worse.
You’re right. They could be much, much worse. Downton Abbey really COULD BE canceled after season six.