our little Spiderman and her spidery cake
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Friday, April 20, 2012
Going “Home”
We are very slowly preparing ourselves for our visit “home” this summer – first visit in 7 years. From arranging substitutions at work, asking somebody to water our plants, deciding what to pack and preparing our girls for the long flight – we are really busy. Oh, we should go to the dentist before we go too. Oh, and we have to get an insurance policy in case we get sick in the US. Oh and this and that and another hundred other little things, but they all add up. But c’mon, it’s not so bad really. I mean it is not as daunting as it is for Olivia who has to sell her house in America and move with her husband and children to Poland for good. We will survive.
From past experience, I am sure that I am going to suffer from a bit of reverse culture shock (everything is in English!) and I will also be bombarded with questions about Poland from my friends.
Here are some of the typical things I get asked by friends, family and acquaintances. What shall I tell them?
From past experience, I am sure that I am going to suffer from a bit of reverse culture shock (everything is in English!) and I will also be bombarded with questions about Poland from my friends.
Here are some of the typical things I get asked by friends, family and acquaintances. What shall I tell them?
Poland or Holland?
What’s the difference between Poland and Holland?
Where is Poland?
Is Poland near any “good” countries?
Poland’s as big as which state?
Did anything good ever happen in Poland, I mean, in history, ya know?
Do they speak Russian in Poland?
They speak Polish?! I didn’t know they had their own language! How long they had that?
Do you go to Auschwitz a lot?
Do you have grocery stores? McDonald’s? Frozen pizza?
Don’t they have food in Poland?
followed by Why’re you so skinny? Is it ‘cause of the rationing?
Do you have indoor plumbing?
Do you have hot water?
Have people in Poland heard about the internet?
Do people have cars in Poland?
How much do you earn?
How much do people earn?
How much does gasoline cost?
followed by Jesus Christ! How can anyone afford to drive over there?
So, what d’ya mean, you have public health care? So like you can just go to the doctor and leave without paying?
So, what d’ya mean the doctors didn’t give you anything for the pain when you had your kids?
Is it hard to get used to driving on the left side of the road?
It must be cool to be so close to Paris. Do you go there often?
Where’d you learn how to teach foreigners English?
How come your husband has a British accent?and my all-time favorite…
Have you heard this one? A Polak, a Jew and a cowboy go into a bar…I can’t wait!
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
So you wanna have a baby in Poland, Part 3
I suppose that in this post, Part 3, I may get to the part where I actually have a baby. Let’s hope…
There I was, reaching the end of my pregnancy. The crib had been purchased and set up. The “Baby Whisperer” had been memorized. The baby carriage had been purchased and my hospital bag had been packed. All we needed was permission from the doctor, The Ordinator, that we could have a “family birth” and most importantly, contractions to start the birth. Contractions and we’d be rolling.
That was what I was most worried about - the contractions. How would I know that the birth was starting? I mean I had had Braxton-Hicks contractions. How were the “real” contractions different from that? None of my pregnancy books could satisfy this question nor could my doctor. I was worried then but now after 2 births, I can say that you just know. B-H contractions are sort of around your pregnant belly while labor contractions come from your core. At least that’s how I describe it.
In preparation for the birth, I started to get a lot of advice from well-meaning friends who already had kids. There were also a lot of horror stories from a friend of a friend of a friend. I tried to take all the advice with a pinch a salt and focus on the positive. I was worried first of all about my baby, then that I would need an emergency c-section and lastly about the episiotomy. Really, this episiotomy thing was stressing me out until a friend explained it her way –
So when I finally felt like this was it, we called our mothers and then my doctor and headed to the hospital. My doctor said he would call the hospital for us and tell them that we were on the way. He wished us a “Happy Easter” as it was Easter Sunday and explained that he would not be present at the birth. That much I figured anyhow. When we arrived to the almost deserted hospital, everyone was very nice. Most of the nurses also worked for the Ordinator in his private office and they remembered me. I am quite memorable ;) I was admitted with all the unpleasant admittance procedures such as enema and shaving but it was really the least of my worries.
Then the nurses asked me the very delicate question, I suppose necessary for their paperwork, if my husband was the father of my baby. As he was seated right next to me, I opted for the affirmative answer ;) I’m not sure why it was so important because in Poland any child conceived during marriage is considered to be fathered by the husband even if you state otherwise. The husband/maybe father-maybe not father can of course apply to change the paternity of the child.
When we got upstairs to the birthing area, I saw that the doctor and nurses were enjoying their Easter breakfast. I went to the birthing room and things got rolling after that. To cut the story short, I can tell you that in Polish, the only thing you need to know when giving birth is the word “push”. It is kind of a hard word in Polish – pchać. I had a better method, I taught the doctor and midwife “push” in English. The birth went something like this:
Czy Pani jest gotowa? No to push! Push! No to, nie push. Nie pushujemy teraz. Ok, ok no to push! Push! Dobra, dobra, Jeszcze jeden push i już.
Simple, really.
There were some complications at the end with the umbilical cord wrapped around my Lizzie’s neck. I almost don’t remember those panicked moments until she started to cry and got her color. Thank goodness, all turned out well.
And yes, there was an episiotomy, which was sewn up very nicely by the doctor. At least that’s what the other doctors said, especially the doctor whose job it was to check the crotches in morning rounds. It went something like this:
The door slams open, say about 5:45 a.m. waking you and baby. Babies usually room-in with mom in Poland. A nurse takes your temperature, well actually, a nurse tells you to take your temperature (with the thermometer which you had to bring from home). She will come back in a minute to check it. Then the door slams open again and Dr. Crotch enters.
He mumbles, “Dzień dobry. Proszę pokazać krocze.”
What? “Good morning. Please show me your crotch.” That’s it. No, my name is… How are you feeling this morning… Nothing. If you wanna see my crotch, you’re gonna have to try harder than that. For heavens sake, he didn’t even close the door behind him and I am crotch to the world. What to do?
I reply, “Pan pierwszy.”
They say that a large part of how you are treated depends on you and I can say that it is true. After that, Dr. Crotch was much nicer and at least engaged in a little niceties before examining my crotch. I wanted him to remember that we were people not just crotches but I did feel a little sorry for him. It’s difficult to remember about the people behind the crotches when you have to check 50 crotches every morning before breakfast.
It wasn’t so bad really, my first birth in Poland. True, the anesthesiologist came to my room with his cup of tea in one hand and his Easter white sausage in the other hand, to inform me that no anesthesia would be administered for a normal, vaginal birth. I was in so much pain, I wanted to jam that sausage down his throat but the fantastic doctor, Dr. Nice, explained that I was less than an hour away from holding my baby. She stayed with me the whole time and she knew what she was talking about. Less than an hour later Lizzie was born, our little Easter baby.
Goodness, that was 6 years ago. Where did the time go?
Happy Birthday Lizzie!
Part 1
Part 2
more
There I was, reaching the end of my pregnancy. The crib had been purchased and set up. The “Baby Whisperer” had been memorized. The baby carriage had been purchased and my hospital bag had been packed. All we needed was permission from the doctor, The Ordinator, that we could have a “family birth” and most importantly, contractions to start the birth. Contractions and we’d be rolling.
That was what I was most worried about - the contractions. How would I know that the birth was starting? I mean I had had Braxton-Hicks contractions. How were the “real” contractions different from that? None of my pregnancy books could satisfy this question nor could my doctor. I was worried then but now after 2 births, I can say that you just know. B-H contractions are sort of around your pregnant belly while labor contractions come from your core. At least that’s how I describe it.
In preparation for the birth, I started to get a lot of advice from well-meaning friends who already had kids. There were also a lot of horror stories from a friend of a friend of a friend. I tried to take all the advice with a pinch a salt and focus on the positive. I was worried first of all about my baby, then that I would need an emergency c-section and lastly about the episiotomy. Really, this episiotomy thing was stressing me out until a friend explained it her way –
Friend: Chris, you want an episiotomy.I want a lot of things but episiotomy isn’t high on my list.
Chris: I do?
Friend: Yes, you do. Think about it. It’s like if you have an old pair of underwear and you stretch out the waistband. Wouldn’t it be better to cut the stretched out waistband and sew it back up as it was before?Well, um, I kind of had to agree with her but was concerned that in this scenario my vagina was the stretched out waistband, but anyhow, no sense worrying about what you can’t control. And you can’t control it, that’s for sure.
So when I finally felt like this was it, we called our mothers and then my doctor and headed to the hospital. My doctor said he would call the hospital for us and tell them that we were on the way. He wished us a “Happy Easter” as it was Easter Sunday and explained that he would not be present at the birth. That much I figured anyhow. When we arrived to the almost deserted hospital, everyone was very nice. Most of the nurses also worked for the Ordinator in his private office and they remembered me. I am quite memorable ;) I was admitted with all the unpleasant admittance procedures such as enema and shaving but it was really the least of my worries.
Then the nurses asked me the very delicate question, I suppose necessary for their paperwork, if my husband was the father of my baby. As he was seated right next to me, I opted for the affirmative answer ;) I’m not sure why it was so important because in Poland any child conceived during marriage is considered to be fathered by the husband even if you state otherwise. The husband/maybe father-maybe not father can of course apply to change the paternity of the child.
When we got upstairs to the birthing area, I saw that the doctor and nurses were enjoying their Easter breakfast. I went to the birthing room and things got rolling after that. To cut the story short, I can tell you that in Polish, the only thing you need to know when giving birth is the word “push”. It is kind of a hard word in Polish – pchać. I had a better method, I taught the doctor and midwife “push” in English. The birth went something like this:
Czy Pani jest gotowa? No to push! Push! No to, nie push. Nie pushujemy teraz. Ok, ok no to push! Push! Dobra, dobra, Jeszcze jeden push i już.
Simple, really.
There were some complications at the end with the umbilical cord wrapped around my Lizzie’s neck. I almost don’t remember those panicked moments until she started to cry and got her color. Thank goodness, all turned out well.
And yes, there was an episiotomy, which was sewn up very nicely by the doctor. At least that’s what the other doctors said, especially the doctor whose job it was to check the crotches in morning rounds. It went something like this:
The door slams open, say about 5:45 a.m. waking you and baby. Babies usually room-in with mom in Poland. A nurse takes your temperature, well actually, a nurse tells you to take your temperature (with the thermometer which you had to bring from home). She will come back in a minute to check it. Then the door slams open again and Dr. Crotch enters.
He mumbles, “Dzień dobry. Proszę pokazać krocze.”
What? “Good morning. Please show me your crotch.” That’s it. No, my name is… How are you feeling this morning… Nothing. If you wanna see my crotch, you’re gonna have to try harder than that. For heavens sake, he didn’t even close the door behind him and I am crotch to the world. What to do?
I reply, “Pan pierwszy.”
They say that a large part of how you are treated depends on you and I can say that it is true. After that, Dr. Crotch was much nicer and at least engaged in a little niceties before examining my crotch. I wanted him to remember that we were people not just crotches but I did feel a little sorry for him. It’s difficult to remember about the people behind the crotches when you have to check 50 crotches every morning before breakfast.
It wasn’t so bad really, my first birth in Poland. True, the anesthesiologist came to my room with his cup of tea in one hand and his Easter white sausage in the other hand, to inform me that no anesthesia would be administered for a normal, vaginal birth. I was in so much pain, I wanted to jam that sausage down his throat but the fantastic doctor, Dr. Nice, explained that I was less than an hour away from holding my baby. She stayed with me the whole time and she knew what she was talking about. Less than an hour later Lizzie was born, our little Easter baby.
Goodness, that was 6 years ago. Where did the time go?
Happy Birthday Lizzie!
Part 1
Part 2
more
Monday, April 2, 2012
Clean windows = Rain
Or at least it does for us. I cleaned and cleaned all our windows in preparation for Easter and for Rosie’s birthday party. Yes, I have bowed down to the Polish tradition. Immediately after finishing, it began to rain and has not really stopped since. Oh well. At least the party went well.
Happy 4th Birthday Rosie.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Lucky Ducks
We are now 24 zloty richer as we have won the lotto – 3 numbers- as I knew we would. How did I know? Well, all the signs were pointing to our incredible good luck and inevitable win.
On Thursday, I saw 2 storks (which are good luck, aren’t they?) – one at work and then another at school. Those teachers are pretty crafty.
Then, Friday evening I was watching an old episode of “Friends” and they were talking about chimney sweeps. It was a sign.
Saturday morning there were 3 ladybugs on my bedroom window, inside. Ladybugs are lucky, aren’t they?
Then on the way to the market, I saw a new plastic stork in my neighbor’s front garden. At the market I saw a lovely stork Easter decoration and we had parked right in front of the Ruch Kiosk which sells lottery tickets. We were shoe-ins to win.
Hmmm, what to do with 24 zloty? I will take my Grandma’s old advice and not spend it all in one place.
*My three chimney sweeps must be somewhere in this picture below. Chimney sweeps are considered lucky in Poland and if you see one (or three for that matter) you should touch one of your buttons for a moment for good luck. I suppose touching one of the chimney sweeps buttons would be even luckier. But the most luck of all would be of a college student I once saw in the Market Square. She approached 2 chimney sweeps and from what I could surmise made a request to which they agreed. After that, she took the older gentleman’s face in her hands, kissed him on the lips delicately but with fervor and then pulled one of his buttons off of his jacket and walked away with it. As she was walking away, she tossed the button up in the air and caught it. The chimney sweeps (and a few passersby, such as myself) stood dumbfounded.
Dobra dziewczyna, nie?
On Thursday, I saw 2 storks (which are good luck, aren’t they?) – one at work and then another at school. Those teachers are pretty crafty.
a stork created by a little cancer patient for the charity auction
craft storks made from cardboard and tissue paper
On Friday, I saw 3 chimney sweeps. And mind you, that was three separate chimney sweeps on three separate occasions. I held my button each time and considered myself very lucky*
craft storks made from cardboard and tissue paper
Then, Friday evening I was watching an old episode of “Friends” and they were talking about chimney sweeps. It was a sign.
Saturday morning there were 3 ladybugs on my bedroom window, inside. Ladybugs are lucky, aren’t they?
Then on the way to the market, I saw a new plastic stork in my neighbor’s front garden. At the market I saw a lovely stork Easter decoration and we had parked right in front of the Ruch Kiosk which sells lottery tickets. We were shoe-ins to win.
Hmmm, what to do with 24 zloty? I will take my Grandma’s old advice and not spend it all in one place.
*My three chimney sweeps must be somewhere in this picture below. Chimney sweeps are considered lucky in Poland and if you see one (or three for that matter) you should touch one of your buttons for a moment for good luck. I suppose touching one of the chimney sweeps buttons would be even luckier. But the most luck of all would be of a college student I once saw in the Market Square. She approached 2 chimney sweeps and from what I could surmise made a request to which they agreed. After that, she took the older gentleman’s face in her hands, kissed him on the lips delicately but with fervor and then pulled one of his buttons off of his jacket and walked away with it. As she was walking away, she tossed the button up in the air and caught it. The chimney sweeps (and a few passersby, such as myself) stood dumbfounded.
Dobra dziewczyna, nie?
Monday, March 19, 2012
A Village Weekend
We had a warm and sunny weekend in the Village. It appeared that the whole village was working, raking, cleaning, digging and planting on Saturday. The weather was good enough on Sunday to work too, but on Sundays in our Village only we work in our garden. According to Village mores, it is highly inappropriate to work in your garden on Sunday. But to hell with Village mores - it’s our way of enjoying ourselves and relaxing. It is noteworthy that Village mores deem it appropriate enough on Sunday to get falling-down-drunk in front of the Village shop while Sunday gardening is definitely frowned upon. Additionally, we washed our car so our places in hell are practically guaranteed.We also hit the church Easter sale (but not the actual church). It was a “pay-what-you-want” sale to benefit poor children so we bought two very Jesus-y Easter postcards and paid 10 zl. The nun couldn’t allow such generous donors ;) to leave with only 2 cards so she slipped us 2 “palms” for Palm Sunday. Maybe not the most efficient way to run a charity sale, but she was happy, we were happy. All was good.
We also took a few trips around the Village on foot and snapped some photos. It was a good weekend.
The rules never apply to me ;)
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Wisdom And Worries According to Chris
Some things that have been going through my mind lately…
If you don’t buy potato chips and nobody at home buys potato chips, you will not eat potato chips which is “A Good Thing”. Hence, if you don’t want to eat potato chips (or crisps for the rest of you), then don’t buy them. Who knew it was so simple?
If you don’t have money to spend, don’t go to the shops (brick and mortar or internet). No visit to the shops means no spending. It also means no new shoes for Misiu which he really needs. Gotta work out the bugs in my plan.
Not eating meat is not as difficult as I first envisioned. Aaaannd if you don’t buy meat, then you don’t eat meat (see my great theory of potato chip relativity above). Rather simple really. Not that I will never buy or eat meat again, but I wanted to experiment with not eating meat and I have learned that I am able to not eat meat and not really miss it. Having said that, fish, dairy and eggs would be incredibly difficult to eliminate from my diet. Sorry Vegans.
Some people need to be cut out of my Facebook “friends” list – specifically the friends who keep linking stupid shyte from Fronda’s webpage.
I am wondering what’s going to happen to my family budget if gasoline reaches 6 or 7 (or God forbid 8) zloty a liter (it is approaching 6 now). The potato chip theory doesn’t really help me here because I still have to get to the city. If I only needed to reach one location, I would use public transport,but I usually need to hit 3 to 6 places in one day excluding trips to pre-school (which I usually do on foot).
I am slowly preparing myself psychologically (and financially) for a visit to my parents in the US. I suspect that my family and friends have got old since my last visit ;) We miraculously have not changed a bit ;) OK, that’s not true. We have doubled since our last visit - I mean there are 4 of us instead of 2, not that we got fat ;) There is a strong probability that I am going to freak out when I arrive for reasons too various to mention, ha, too various to even think about.
Ok, I have to go first of all to pick up my children from school and second of all because I have started to think about all my “freak out” reasons and I would like to stop this train of thought before I really do freak out.
Here’s a pic from our last trip to the US. All my friends in Poland really love this picture. I wonder why?
If you don’t buy potato chips and nobody at home buys potato chips, you will not eat potato chips which is “A Good Thing”. Hence, if you don’t want to eat potato chips (or crisps for the rest of you), then don’t buy them. Who knew it was so simple?
If you don’t have money to spend, don’t go to the shops (brick and mortar or internet). No visit to the shops means no spending. It also means no new shoes for Misiu which he really needs. Gotta work out the bugs in my plan.
Not eating meat is not as difficult as I first envisioned. Aaaannd if you don’t buy meat, then you don’t eat meat (see my great theory of potato chip relativity above). Rather simple really. Not that I will never buy or eat meat again, but I wanted to experiment with not eating meat and I have learned that I am able to not eat meat and not really miss it. Having said that, fish, dairy and eggs would be incredibly difficult to eliminate from my diet. Sorry Vegans.
Some people need to be cut out of my Facebook “friends” list – specifically the friends who keep linking stupid shyte from Fronda’s webpage.
I am wondering what’s going to happen to my family budget if gasoline reaches 6 or 7 (or God forbid 8) zloty a liter (it is approaching 6 now). The potato chip theory doesn’t really help me here because I still have to get to the city. If I only needed to reach one location, I would use public transport,but I usually need to hit 3 to 6 places in one day excluding trips to pre-school (which I usually do on foot).
I am slowly preparing myself psychologically (and financially) for a visit to my parents in the US. I suspect that my family and friends have got old since my last visit ;) We miraculously have not changed a bit ;) OK, that’s not true. We have doubled since our last visit - I mean there are 4 of us instead of 2, not that we got fat ;) There is a strong probability that I am going to freak out when I arrive for reasons too various to mention, ha, too various to even think about.
Ok, I have to go first of all to pick up my children from school and second of all because I have started to think about all my “freak out” reasons and I would like to stop this train of thought before I really do freak out.
Here’s a pic from our last trip to the US. All my friends in Poland really love this picture. I wonder why?
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