Wait for it...

 Workin' it.

 Workin' it.  With air guitar.

 Ownin' it.

 Showing what he's got.

 Under restraint.

 SQUIRREL!!  (Seriously, so easily distracted)

...and finally, wishing you a very Merry Christmas!

Wrong turn to Grandma's house

Our little red riding hood ran into more than the big bad wolf this Halloween.  Yes, I know Halloween isn't for another week.  A group of teens not so politely ridiculed us in Spanish as to our confusion when we stopped by the store on our way home.  However, we celebrated it last night.  Trick or treating isn't a Spanish thing so a neighborhood close by with many American residents deck their houses and let the good times roll.  Candy donations are made weeks before the event to help supply all the gouls and goblins with their sugar requests.  Because next weekend is a long weekend and expats like to travel whenever possible, the chosen date was yesterday.  We went with our German friends who were first time trick or treaters.  They caught on pretty fast. Now that we've changed schools, we don't  regularly socialize with Americans so it was fun to participate in an American tradition, hear English, see great decorations, and visit with old friends from the American School.

Tour de France - Day 3

Our drive from Biarritz to Brantome took longer than expected due to the real Tour de France's close proximity.  The scenery was wonderful though, especially once we got to the country roads past Bordeaux.  I was so excited to see the endless sunflower fields.  The kids all shouted "sunflowers!" when we passed another and another and another field. 

A short ways from Brantome, we stopped to peek at the 15th century Chateau de la Cote.

After arriving in Brantome, we couldn't find our hotel so took a break to stretch legs and explore the village.   Absolutely LOVED this picturesque little town on the Dronne River.

The kids' highlight?  The beaver-ish animal in the river, swimming and perching on a ladder.

The old mill -turned hotel

Can you hear the snorts and giggles?  Giggles are good, but just as there are different cries, there are different giggles.  Theses giggles mean trouble.  Maybe too long in the car, I don't know.  But when they get in these moods, they are beyond control.  The giggles prod more silliness, which then returns with uncontrollable laughter, which then demands a higher level of entertainment which usually comes with bad judgement and someone getting hurt.  So there you have it, I'm foreshadowing.

More pictures of the village as we walked around attempting to burn off the giggle energy.

Left:  Abbey founded by Charlemagne in 769, rebuilt several times post wars, but still has one of the oldest bell towers in France.  Right:  Caves and little shops carved out the side of the mountain.

Finally found our hotel.

The kids chasing the hotel dog, still WAY too much negative energy.

With stomachs rumbling we headed back into the village to forage for food.  Foie gras or pizza?  We joined the line outside this little pizzeria apparently missing the last table by moments.  As people fell into line behind us, we watched as mouth watering pizzas and pastas were placed on tables close enough that our drool could puddle beneath the lucky beneficiary's feet.  We waited and waited with not a word from the hostess/waitress.  More lined up behind us so we assumed we had a good chance of eating as we were the next up.  While Brett and I waited and waited, so did the kids.  However, they were much less quiet about it.  It took about 2 minutes before I actually uttered the words "Guys, go play out in the street".  Um, did I really just say that?  But in my defense it was a quiet little street that we hadn't seen a single car or moto use.  Their play turned crying, he said, she said, and us, lowering our heads mumbling "where are their parents?".  But we were hungry, and gosh darn it, we were going to eat.  So, after about 30 minutes (seemed more like a couple of hours) with still no word or employee eye contact, we couldn't take the giggle, hit, cry cycle anymore.  We were out.  Walked to the car, drove to a park, made the kids get out and play (it had just started sprinkling), while we made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and grimly discussed how many days we had left of our trip.  After being so close to satiating satisfaction, eating pb and  j's in a car while it rained...well, it wasn't fun.  The two culprits ate only bread and water.  Pb and j's at a park would have just been a reward.  We made sure to eat as many desserts as we could to reinforce the bread and water punishment.  We are mean.  But tomorrow's going to be better.

Tour de France - Day 2

No driving today.  We spent the day playing at the beach and meandering through the village.  While our hotel is ideally located right next to a great beach, Plage de la Cote des Basques, known for it's great surf, sand is only available when the tide is out.  So instead of propping ourselves on the rocks, we ambled on over to La Grande Plage for some sun and sea time.  Stopped by the market for groceries to make dinner in the apartment.  The kids love market eating.  We usually end up with plenty of desserts.  Made it back to the apartment just in time before the rain came.  The evening was spent eating dinner while watching surfers in the downpour and Cohen guarding his bunk bed.

Cohen getting ready to race the waves

La Grande Plage with Napoleon III's summer palace

Beach snack shack

Fruit market

Biarritz cathedral

Rock of the Virgin built to keep fishermen safe - The bridge was built by none other than Sir Gustave Eiffel.

Tour de France - Day 1

We got off  later than planned due to our ER visit and drove the 5 hours to Biarritz, France.  We were here last July and LOVED it!  Sandy beaches, tide pools, castles and to top it off -hydrangeas.  It's known for its surf and has a laid back beach town feel yet impressive with Napoleon's palace on the beach, as well as castles that once housed royal vacationers. 

We checked into our apartment and were excited by the great location overlooking the ocean.  This is the view from our balcony.  Many hours go into finding clean, affordable lodging for 6 but you still never know what you're going to get.

The kids were excited about other things. 

    

 Eli's very sympathetic to Gavin's situation.

After getting settled we took a stroll through town, found some dinner, ate gofres covered in chocolate, bananas and whip cream, and found a bench to relax while being entertained by good music and even better dancers. 

Following vacation bedtime schedule, we followed the coast back to the apartment to get them in bed before the bell tolled midnight.

Not so fast

For the past 10 days the kids have eagerly counted down to our road trip by putting a rung on the tree house ladder.   We're touring France for 10 days and much to the kids' delight, even staying in a tree house.  Because of the road trip nature of our excursion, we're only staying one night out of 10 in a tree, but it's still all the kids can think about.  Normandy, Dordogne, the castles of Loire Valley, and the beaches of Biarritz don't hold a candle to sleeping like the Swiss Family Robinson's.  With our countdown complete, all there was left to do hours before our departure was finish packing our bags (sparsley due to the lack of room), load the car and catch a few hours of sleep.  10:30 pm brings a trip to the ER.  An extra special event being that we've never been to the hospital or doctors here and not aware of how the insurance or private & social health care works.  Moments earlier, Gavin was entertaining the neighbors with some acrobatics, a hand stand to be exact, and having never had formal training, didn't quite stick the landing.  He crashed down sideways with what onlookers said was quite a thud.  After figuring out that the bump on his shoulder shouldn't be there and his tears justified, Brett (being the fluent Spanish speaker) spent the next few hours with Gavin at the hospital.  Broken clavicle.  Gavin was a trooper and seemed to take comfort in being the first one out of our family to break anything.  Unfortunately his healing contraption can't get wet or sandy and will have to be worn 24 hrs a day for the duration of our trip.  He's handling the news of compromised fun like a champ.He loves his skeleton pictures too -handsome bones he has.

Campeones, Campeones, oh, ae, oh, ae, oh, ae... (sung by 4 little voices)

Let me start by saying, I'm not an avid watcher of sports on TV.  I've never pledged my allegiance to any particular team.  Okay, maybe the Reds, but I don't love watching baseball, (sorry Beck's) more just the good 'ole American spirit at a game.  Definitely wouldn't watch it on TV (again my apologies for the blasphemous nature this has on the Beck family).  I guess you find your loyalties through Alma maters, family tradition, or place of residence, I don't know.  I do enjoy watching sports when it's personal ie the kids sports -especially soccer.  So living in Madrid right now has made watching the world cup personal.  It really means something.  It's like moving from a big city with lots of people with varied interests to small town Texas where it's all about the high school football games.  There's just an amazing energy and you can't help but get swept away with it.  While Spain certainly isn't small town Texas, there has definitely been a feeling of unity and a contagious energy.  Areas of the country who defiantly are not politically Spain supporters, began raising the Spanish flag.  Huge plasma screens were erected in most cities' outdoor plazas and despite the 100 degree weather, always a party-like atmosphere.  The Spanish flag draped balconies, houses, and cars everywhere.  We loved watching Spain play.  So much, that now that it's over, Cohen meanders through the house asking if Spain's playing right now, and argues that he knows a soccer game is on because he saw in the neighbor's window. 

Taking some weight off his feet

An exciting moment when the jets flew over and we knew the players couldn't be too far behind.

More waiting.

Some good people watching.

After the huge victory, the excitement continued here in Madrid as the players arrived back from South Africa yesterday.  After touchdown, the team went to the palace to be congratulated by the King and Queen, then made a celebratory parade appearance only to be followed by an open air public party in the city.  Though it was hot, people of all ages came out to show their support.  While waiting for the players (about 2 hrs), we were entertained (or deafened) by the horns, hats, face paint, singing and jets streaming the national colors overhead.   

The excitement from the crowd as well as my 4 kids, when the players arrived on their big open top bus made the wait worthwhile.  The parade got off to a late start and by the time they made it to where we eagerly awaited, it was 10:15 pm.  Cohen was quite perplexed by the whole situation, "I saw 'mono' man, I saw Casillas holding the world cup... but how did they get out of the TV?"  

So while I pledge my allegiance to the grand US of A, when it comes to soccer, my heart will be elsewhere.

Eli's the coach (Del Bosque), hence the distinguishing full track suit in 100 degree July weather.

He has to use his whole body to kick and keep his shoes on -they're 3 or 4 sizes too big.

Update of 3 days later:  They have worn their jerseys (until I stole them to wash), played soccer in the yard  practicing their sweet moves, and marched through the house waving imaginary Spanish flags singing...Campeones, campeones, oh, ae, oh, ae, oh, ae...every day.  I love it.