Broken Computer

My computer is refusing to turn on so am forced to use my husbands i-pad til we can get back to the US and get the situation fixed. I know...most people would love to have an i-pad but I'm missing my computer. I am not used to it and mispell words all the time...Just read my last post and saw all the spelling mistakes but can't/or don't want to find the time to go back and edit it. So, I'm not a complete moron(just partial) but until I get the hang of this ipad business I may slaugther the English language for a few more weeks.

In other news we have about 5 more weeks left on the island and I am ignoring the fact we are leaving. I need to get with the program and start getting organized. We house sat last week and the amount of stuff we needed for a week in someone elses house was mind blowing. I can't even comprehend how we are going to move a baby back to the US via Africa. I seem to be ignoring a lot of things at the moment. My hair smells reall horrific, Charlie threw up on me this morning and, every time I turn my head I get a whiff of it. But am too tired and lazy to shower so am just pretending I dont smell it. Also ignoring the fact I have to go back to work in a few months and my stint as a Caribbean house wife is coming to an end. No more sushi lunches and play dates on the beach and yoga at Laluna. I'm getting sad to see it all end so I'm ignoring it. Would stick my head in the sand and pretend it isn't happening but might pass out from the smell of my own hair.

What's the Hardest Thing You've ever Done?

The other day John mentioned that the hardest thing he had done to date was vet school. He then added rather dramatically that it was even harder than climbing Mount Kiliminjaro. Judging from the amount of stress he has been under the last few weeks...I have no doubt.

Anyway, our conversation got me thinking what's the hardest thing you've ever done? John asked me and I said automatically, "child birth" (I guess the memory has not yet faded) but, then I thought that can't be the hardest thing I have ever done. Women do it everyday often without modern medicine and, I hear teenagers are now doing it on reality tv while telling off their 'baby daddy'. So, no, I must have done something more monumental than child birth.

At one time in my life just getting up and going to work at a job I hated seemed like it was the hardest thing I would ever have to do. As marketing director for a mall I thought I might just lose it if I had to face one more bunny breakfast or deal with one more season of drunk, narcoleptic santas. This prompted what might have been the best but, at the time seemingly most bizarre decision I ever made. I quite my job moved to Zambia and lived in a game park trading drunk santas for inebriated ganme rangers and fake bunnys for a pride of lions. I have to say the lions ended up being a lot less scary. That was an exciting and terrifying decision but not the hardest thing I've ever one. Though as I met my husband, one of the better decisions I've ever made.

Some days I think taking Charlie for an outing might be the hardest thing I've ever done. To go out and about in Grenada she needs more changes of clothing than a runway model. If you happen to be out as the sun sets and the temp drops from 90 to 85 and you don't have full length pajamas a hat and heavy blanket you will bring down the wrath of every Grenadian woman upon your head. If child child services existed here they might just have Charlie hauled off as her negligent mother is causing "the chile to catch cold." The first few weeks we were back I thought raising a baby in Grenada might be the hardest thing I would ever do because of the amount of advice I recieved, but the day they told me I would break my child's back is the day I stopped listening so island life is back to being a snap as long as the car is working, you don't mind no running hot water, etc...etc..

Now that I think of it the hardest thing I've ever done might have been finding someone on this island who hadn't heard about our troubled car and selling it to them.

I'm not sure what the hardest thing I have ever done is. As I'm not that ancient maybe I haven't done it yet. I do have a sneaky suspicion that when it comes to children, child birth might be the easy part, raising them well or as my 8th grade science teacher used to say having "good home training" may be the hard part.

What's the hardest thing you've ever done?

A Gentle Reminder

A few weeks ago I was dashing out of the house to go for a run before we took Charlie for her evening walk. It seems that whenever I am doing anything on my own these days I try to do it at warp speed except perhaps my actual run...As someone remarked the other day. " Good to see you running again, but it must be tough getting back into it. You used to fly around here like a gazelle..." I notice they never finished the end of the sentence the implication being I now lumber around like a buffalo...

As I was running out of the house to start my run, an older gentlemen that we often pass on our evening walks stopped to talk to me just as I was about to get going. Pressed for time and anxious to start my run I was very annoyed that he wanted to strike up a conversation, but my southern upbringing kicked in and I smiled and told myself to be polite. We chatted for a few minutes about the weather and other mundane things and then he told me his kids were grown, his wife was gone and his grand children were in other countries. He then said something which broke my heart. He was lonely. Everyone was gone and he now walked the roads of lance aux epines alone.

John and I have always walked or run in the evenings. Since we began our relationship its our time to reconnect with one another and tell each other about our days without the distractions of phones, computers, tv etc...Its our thing and, its what keeps us healthy emotionally and physically as a couple. We first started running in Zambia and we would run through the village picking up children along the way. By the end of the run we had 30 kids running with us screaming "mizungu, mizungu" (translation white person). They annoyingly would be turning cartwheels and running barefoot as John and I panted towards the finish line. Nevertheless we continued to plod along as these children embarrassingly ran circles around us.

We have continued our walks/runs and they have been one of the constants in our nomadic and ever changing life the past four years. Our twosome has now become a threesome and we walk and talk with Charlie in tow much like we did before. Though some things are different, we can no longer run together so we go in shifts, our eyes are glued on the baby, we don't occasionally hold hands anymore (someone has to push that massive stroller around) and both of us are often so tired or preoccupied that conversation doesn't always flow like it used to. We are usually hurried and frazzled and as 5-7 from what I am told is the universal witching hour for babies we know that at the end of the walk our peaceful little angel has it in her to turn on us, and become a fussing banshee.


My heart broke a little bit for the lonely old man but, I'm glad we had that encounter because it reminded me to slow down. It goes so fast. Some days all I want is five minutes to myself but one day soon all I'll have too many minutes to myself.  Some day I may walk alone with no worries or hurries just memories and, I know I'll wish I could do it all over again.

The Help

Worth the Wait...and worth staying home with...

A funny thing happened to me last week. I found myself having not one but, multiple conversations on how hard it was to find good help. I had spent the previous week interviewing cleaner/nanny combos and it seemed like they came and went through our tiny little apartment faster than commuters passing through Grand Central. I wasn't happy with any of them. There was one whose mouth hung open like a cod fish staring blankly into space. I later found out that she was "watching the child" one woman had Charlie so bundled up I thought she might pass out from heat stroke. All seemed to agree I was a crap mother and didn't know what I was doing after I declined the remedy of sugar water or putting flour in the bottle to help Charlie sleep.

None of them cleaned all that well though, I will admit our apartment seems to be overflowing with baby gear, school books, papers that seemed to have reproduced and exercise equipment that making heads or tails of this clutter would be a bit daunting. However that didn't change the fact that I caught myself sounding like a 1950's southern housewife complaining about "the help." I recently read that book. I had to after my Mississippi raised grandmother read it and proclaimed it a "pack of lies"...I knew A) that there had to be some truth in this book B) Hilly and my grandmother are cut from the same cloth.

I on the other hand feel a little bit like the white trash character whose maid thinks she is insane. Her inability to get out of her sweats until ten minutes before her husband gets home, her unorganized household and her brassy hair are all something I can identify with. Even with a maid coming in, my house is still a mess, I need my highlights retouched and Charlie and I are often in our pajamas until well, it's time to put them on again.

I have turned into a housewife without any of the housewife skills. At the moment I barely cook, the bed gets made usually as we are about to get back in it, I don't iron so my husband goes around rumpled looking, most of my clothes have a little bit of spit up on them and I had no idea what was happening in Egypt for about five days . I have to google the headlines before we go out so I can converse about something other than how hard it is to find good help and how adorable my child is.

I've been debating taking on a project at the University which would have me out of my pj's and back into a world that doesn't revolve around nappy changes, play dates and searching for the perfect maid. But I think I'm happy here...I may be crap at being a housewife and I know my career will be short lived but I'm just not ready to leave my daughter or my pj's.

A day at the Beach

Snoozing on BBC beach and then a little torture for her parents benefit.  The first I imagine of many...Poor Baby she may need that thumb to deal with her pesky parents.

It takes a Village...and then some

One of our last nights out before Charlie's arrival

It may take a village to raise a child but it took an island, a global internet community and several nights out to assure the parents that they could in fact raise this baby, and that they would have an arsenal of village elders as back up when they ran into trouble. The closer it came to Charlie's arrival the more nervous I could see my husband getting. The question "will I be a good father" was asked so many times that it became a running joke on the island.  The culmination of these fears reached their peak around month 8 when what was to be a last romantic night out before baby ended with me going home and John fumbling out of the passenger side of our car (shockingly the drivers side door stopped working) in Keith in Suzie's driveway clutching two bottles of wine and spending til the wee hours of the night being reassured that he/we could in fact do this parent thing. The next day I got a phone call "the poor buggers terrified." I thought well join the club...It seems men don't quite grasp that this baby is actually coming and their life is changing til the final stretch. In fact I am not sure they really comprehend that a baby is coming til they hold their baby in their arms for the first time.

Charlie 11 days old...we can do this

I spent 9 months worrying and stewing about where we would put a child in our tiny one room apartment. I worried about putting the baby in a two door car, also known as the unsafest car on the planet, and I worried about mosquitos and had nets sent from Malawi. During this time John acted like I was a little bit crazy and a lot a bit neurotic and told me babies come every day...Basically he implied I was being "too American."

What I realized the second Charlie came into the world was everything I had spent the last nine months worrying about and then resigning myself to the fact that we'll shove our child in a corner, we'll drive extra slowly in the unsafe car and really, Dengue fever is only bad in August, was a total waste of time. The minute Charlie entered the world John was worrying about where we would put her, he proclaimed we could not have her in the car as it had no brakes (that I did not know) and the next thing I knew he was buying the most expensive baby monitor on the market that monitors breathing and may actually raise your child for you.  

When we started the hospital discharge process and we realized that they were actually letting us take home baby Charlie without a test, an instruction manual and nothing more than a handful of diapers and some swaddling cloths we looked at each other and thought ok here comes the test can we do this??? Suprisingly we could and it was a lot more natural than either one of us thought it would be, but I don't think it would have been such a smooth transition had we not had our village as back up.

Chief elder was my mother who fed us, did loads and loads of laundry held Charlie in the wee hours of the morning and took care of her baby girl and mine. Four weeks passed way too fast and I still miss her.

Mom with her two grandbabies

John's parents sent love and encouragement from Malawi and their joy at having a granddaugther kept us going in those early days that are a bit tough.

Our siblings were so sweet and supportive skyping, visiting and my baby brother was there when Charlie was born. Making her arrival even more special.

Cousins Grady Shake and Charlie Catherine

Charlie was so fortunate to have well wishers on several continents sending messages, friends from NYC traveling to see her at just a few days old and her grandad driving from Georgia to cuddle her.

The two Katherine/Catherines

Aunt Shannon and future hubbie Baby Colin

We hit the jackpot with Charlie's pediatrician. She absolutley loves him as do we. What a rare treat to find a pediatrician who keeps in touch via e-mail and skype and had us over for dinner on our last night in the States. I don't know what could be better than having your four week old checked by a professional at his home the night before you embark on a LONG journey back to Grenada. Our village has a medicine man and we are so grateful!

Arriving back to our little island community we were met by our island family who came out on a Sunday to celebrate Charlies arrival.

Charlie's even been welcomed to Church and Highland Fling II has a new member!

Long Day at Sea

Thanks to all our family and friends who assured us along the way that we could do this and now that we've got our sweet baby are on standby in case we need you. Charlie is a lucky girl and her parents though flawed and fumbling have done one thing right. We've surrounded ourselves with a strong village to guide us along the way.

Bush Girl, Beach Girl, Baby Girl

Charlie a few hours old

In typical Clark fashion, baby Clark, arrived a week early anxious to move onto her next adventure. After three couch bound weeks, to try and keep this baby in, John arrived back from Grenada and two days later our little girl arrived. I don't think anyone was more surprised than I was when a little girl popped out. After nine months of hearing "its a boy" from everyone from the lady at the dry cleaner to the waitresses at our local, the boatyard, I was pretty convinced our little bambino was a little boy.

Still in shock we've got a daughter

While I didn't care about the sex all I wanted was a healthy baby, I was a little more prepared for a boy. I grew up with boys. I knew how to boss them around and I was pretty content in my role as the only girl, but when I first laid eyes on our daughter everything changed.

In love with our Baby Girl

Its been six weeks since Charlie arrived and we've spent a lot of girl time together and I've learned a few things that make having a daughter extra special. Aside from the fact they have cuter clothes, you can dress them in pink, and when I wanted to spend an exorbitant amount on her first Christmas dress John said ok, since it's "her first Christmas." Flash forward to the wedding dress and we are in trouble...

Charlie dressed as a snow bear

The expensive dress she hated...

The Other Woman...
For the first time in our relationship I have seen my husband's eyes light up with sheer adoration for another female and watching him stare in wonder at our baby girl makes me love him even more. This is perhaps the only time in life when you'll enjoy watching your husband moon over another woman. No jealousy just joy that this amazing little bundle has so captivated the man you love.

Daddy and Daughter

Yummy Mummy...
Little girls somehow know that you can't leave the house looking a total mess and Charlie always seems to give me the extra minute to put on my mascara. Not sure that a little boy would be so understanding. While I'll never be the "yummy mummy" just not organized enough to leave the house without spit up on my shoulder...I do have a daughter who will lay on the bed and babble at me while I dash on a little lip gloss before we head out.

Out for a day on the boat

Girl Talk
The coos and squeals are what I hope will be the beginning of many years of girl talk with my daughter. I spend hours on skype with my mom chatting and filling her in on what is going on with our island life. I am looking forward to hearing about my little girl's adventures, hopes and dreams but, for now those coo's are the sweet precursor of what is to come.

Taking a rest from all that chatter

That Special Bond...
There is something special about moms and daughters that I never really knew til I had one of my own. Now that I have Charlie I understand how my mom must feel about me. Too bad we can't all discover this when we are 13 years old and those turbulent teens might be a bit sweeter...Watching my mom look at Charlie and  reminisce about my babyhood is bitter sweet. Sweet that she loved and remembers those years with such clarity and scary that it seemed to go so fast for her. Its been six weeks and I can't believe how much our baby girl has changed. I know in the blink of an eye we'll go from this:

 
To this:

Baby girls are special and our baby girl has made our bush, beach, lifestyle much more fun. I hope I can remember to soak every minute up and enjoy our next adventure...parenthood.