Why moving to Spain is a GOOD thing for our kids

Well my last post was a bit doom and gloom wasn't it?

The difficult school runs had been getting me down and it was very cathartic to offload how I was feeling. And what a surge of love and support I get back from you guys! It nearly knocked me backwards into our new (and you'll be glad to hear adequately big enough) swimming pool.

Luckily almost all the comments were positive, supportive and full of good advice. There was one lady however that felt I was doing the wrong thing putting my kids through this and that I should scoop them all up and just go home. I can understand why she might have felt that way and thank her for her honesty. However my immediate reaction was one of 'You're wrong - this is good for them' which surprised me in its intensity.

Since I read that comment my mind has been shunted onto a different track - from all the things they have lost to all the things they are gaining. And although the next few weeks or even months will be hard - that's not necessarily a bad thing because with each hurdle they grow in confidence immensely. If they can do this they can do anything.

Our weekends are now spent like this....

...instead of fighting over TV channels and trying to find things to do when it's pissing down outside (which invariably it is in Ireland).

After-school is spent like this...

...instead of fighting over TV channels and trying to find things to do when it's pissing down outside (which invariably it is in Ireland).

The kids have all learned to swim brilliantly already - a gift that you can't exaggerate the importance of. One of my big worries coming out here was that the pool would not be safe for the youngest who still needed armbands. Just look at him now:

They are eating different foods and becoming more adventurous.

They are learning harder and faster than they would at home. The maths classes are 2 years ahead of what they are used to but they are quickly coming up to speed with it all. Next week when the school day lengthens they will get to take pottery and sewing classes.

They are also picking up a foreign language without even realising it. The other evening we went out for dinner and the 4 year old asked could he have some more 'leche' and then requested to be topped up with 'aqua'. I don't think he even realised that he was saying the words in Spanish.

We are all also spending a lot more time as a family and have the added pleasure of having the children's grandparents a short drive away so they are gaining a new type of relationship with them - one where they can pop by after school rather than doing a hurried catch up every 3 months.

All in all there is a lot of weight on the Spain side of the scales - and only school nerves on the other.

My parents moved to Spain and all they got me was this lousy beach. 

Starting Spanish School - the first week

This time last week the nerves were really starting to set in. None of the children wanted to go to school. The 9 year old was afraid she wouldn't be able to do the work because she wouldn't understand, the 7 year old was nervous he wouldn't have anyone to play with, and the 4 year old didn't know what was about to hit him as he'd never even been to big school at all.

First day - feeling brave

Monday morning 9am saw us all standing in the playground trying to look brave. Kaya was lucky enough to have met some of her classmates already and was now firm friends with one of them. She joined her line and before we could even say 'buena suerte' she was gone. Soon after we walked Marley to his class, met his lovely teacher and with a big deep breath he said his goodbyes and went in to meet his classmates.

So that left Baxter. At 4 we had thought he would make the easiest adjustment. However, new school, new teacher, new classmates, new language was a lot to ask of him. He was incredibly brave going in but we arranged to pick him up early anyway.

As the week progressed poor Baxter got more and more distressed. There is one little English girl in the class who is looking after him but seeing him walking around the playground on his own kicking stones about has been tough to watch.

The other two are really flying though. They've both got their little group of friends already and seem un-phased by most of the challenges. Of course there are hiccups that we didn't predict - being called up to the blackboard to do multiplication when you haven't yet covered that in your old school can't be much fun, and who could of predicted that my daughters name in Valenciano means 'shut up'? Still working out how to deal with that one...

For the month of September the school runs from 9am - 1pm but after that it is broken up into two parts: 9am - 12pm and then 3pm - 4.30pm. The children can stay in the school during the break and do extracurricular activities or they can come home. This will be a whole new ballgame for us all but it's nice to be eased in gently with the half days for the first month.

So one week down and I am incredibly proud of my little estudiantes. I can finally start to breath again.

It's the weekend!

Next challenge - moving house!

Wobble

And no - I'm not referring to my belly.

Although....


Anyway. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

It was the latest house move that did it. We had spent the last few weeks living in the lap of luxury at my in-law's gorgeous villa, so our introduction to life in Spain was one of utter indulgence.

Having not found a permanent place to stay yet, on Monday we moved to our temporary accommodation - a small 3-bed villa apartment, with pool and view. But, as we settled in we realised - gasp, shock, horror - there was no working wifi.

Since we both now work from home this was a major spanner on the works.

Cue stress, panic, depression, doubt and any other emotional emotion you care to throw into the equation.

Previous to this I had noticed that since being here the kids would throw all their toys out of the pram as soon as something didn't go to plan for them (not literally - they're much too old for prams, besides we ditched all their toys before the move).

Most of the time they are far happier than they would be at home however when problems occur we get episodes such as:

'Mummy it's not fair! All my friends in Ireland have our favourite teacher again and I'm not even going to know my teacher here. Why did we have to come to stupid Spain'

'Mummy I'm too hot. I hate stupid Spain'

'Mummy I hurt my toe. Stupid Spain. I want to go home'

The reasons Spain is so stupid range from the understandable to the ridiculous - but it seems that every little hurdle or hiccup results in the same reaction.

And I fell into the same trap myself.

But 48 hours later - with internet restored - all is well again.

And with a view like this it really is hard to stay stressed for very long.........

(And thanks to the lovely ladies who held my hand during the wobble - you know who you are. x)

House hunting in the sun - Well someones gotta do it

'There's not much surface space in the kitchen though...'

'And there's no room for guests...'

'And the pool is a bit small...'

Sometimes I think I should hire someone to walk around with me so they can slap me across the face and tell me when I'm being a dickhead.

Of all the reasons for not taking a house if I thought I would be the one to utter that 'the pool is too small' I'd have made sure I was there to push myself in it as soon as the words came out of my mouth.

It is possible that I may be getting a bit spoiled out here.

But with more villas so peruse I simply don't have time to dwell on it. Instead could I just ask you to tell me to cop on in whatever manner you feel is necessary please?

(Just don't push me in any substandard size pools ok?)

Beach babes

Today marks our first fortnight of our living in Spain.

Lying on the beach this morning watching all three kids building a sand city on the shores of the little cove we'd settled in I pondered on how lucky we are.

Of course we had a beach back in Ireland, and on the odd sunny day we always made the most of it, but this was different. The children's tanned shoulders glistened with sea water as they paddled out to dunk their buckets in the sea, dipping down for a quick refresher before continuing with their work. My mask and snorkel lay by my side after a brief exploration around the rocks, and a light breeze floated around my newly bronzed skin. The sky was pure blue, the sea crystal clear and most importantly the kids were quiet. Later we pottered in bare feet over warm sand to the small beach shack and ordered lemonade that came in ice cold bottles with a straw.

I couldn't think of a single thing that would have improved that morning.

So here's some of the other moments over the past 14 days that made me lazily reach for my camera to remind myself just what we have here.

In the words of that annoying orphan Annie - I think I'm gonna like it here.