I’ve been having the village blues. The sort where you stop and think to yourself:”Why on earth do I live here?”. It has not been the blues about living in Spain away from family and friends (I don’t think it has, but maybe that is part of it as well?), more the blues about living in s small town full of small town people.

I would love to have some more friends locally, especially more spanish friends and not just expats, but the small town mentality doesn’t really do it for me. Wish I could get rid of half the population and instead import people from Barcelona and Madrid or another large city to create a bit more life, diversity and alternative thinking.

It is almost the same as with some countries, lovely country, shame about the people. I know it is probably not pc to say it and I have chosen myself to live in this small village but I do feel stuck sometimes. I shudder to think about how it would be if I did not have the internet which makes me sound like a sad person with just a virtual life and not a real life. Well, we all (hopefully) know that that’s not the case.

I am sure I will be back to normal soon or just lean to live with it.

What a shit nights sleep. Still got a banging headache and work is going slow this morning (yes, it is still morning. In Spain it remains morning until 2 o’clock - then it becomes afternoon until around 8.).
El Rubio had his first nights sleep in his own room, as he was obviously not too sure about it. This resulted in me getting in and out of bed around 15 times. I really do understand why they use sleep deprivation as a means of torture, not getting enough sleep is just evil!

El Rubio woke at normal time this morning, but I was still shattered. Maybe his teeth were also playing up, because he was not that happy. We had to ditch first attempt of getting him off to nursery. He went absolutely bonkers when we tried to get him in the car seat, screaming, crying and arching his back making it virtually impossible to seat him. But luckily since I work from home, I can afford to have mornings like this so we went back into the house, he had a little rest, some milk and a play of the roof terrace. After an hour we tried again and no problems getting him into the car, but he was crying loads at the nursery.  Called them 30 min later and he was happy playing with the other kids in the patio. Phew. Nobody quite prepares you for this when you become parents. The stress of leaving your crying children.

I am expecting another bad night, I am sure it will take a few nights for him to get used to being alone. And me too. I am so used to just opening my eyes and looking at him in his bed.

My little boy is getting bigger!

Will keep you posted on lack of sleep and crying babies.

We have got family over at the moment, so me and El Rubio went to the zoo with his cousin Cecilia who is 1.5 years older and my sister, her mum.

I have heard good things about that zoo previously, but never been. And I was really pleasantly surprised.  The last time I was in a spanish zoo was 22 years ago on a holiday in Santander in Northern Spain. I was 12 and camping with my mum and sis (and I kissed a boy on that holiday, but that is another story…) and ate spaghetti bolognese and oxtail soup.

No idea what the zoo we visited was called (give me a break, it was 22 years ago, and I have had a baby since then which is a way of getting senile, seriously I cannot remember a thing any more these days). But the zoo was not a pretty sight. Kinda like the animal version of those Rumanian orphanages. There was big cats in tiny circus-like cages pacing back and forth (you know the type I am talking about: small box, bars on one side and solid wall on the remaining three). A stench of animal piss and shit, no stimulation for any of the animals who all seemed to have various manic-nervous behaviour issues. We didn’t stay long and my sister and I were in tears.

So went we went to the Zoo in Fuengirola, I am happy to say that it was as far removed from my previous horror experience as possible. I will tell you more about it soon, but someone is clinging to my leg making typing difficult.

Because of El Hombre being ill I decided to take the pushchair and the two dogs out. Not an easy task I tell you.

It wouldn’t be so bad if only the streets were flat and I felt certain the dogs would be all right being off lead, but no, I am not so lucky.

In order to get to the flatter streets of town, you have to navigate a hill going downwards. So off I went with a dog on either side, and it went ok apart from the odd eagerness to get going which resulted in the dogs pulling a bit.
But then they spotted some food on the street and being the greedy fuckers they are, almost pulled me down the hill. I swear, some days they do my head in.

Furter down in the village I ran into an old Spanish man who, after seeing my getup with two dogs and a pushchair, asked me if I was not scared that the dogs might jump up and bite the baby? Ahemmm, no?  I decided there was no point in telling him that the dogs sleep inside on their shared doggy bed next to the fireplace. He was an old man and there is no point risking him having a heat attack. I just once again show the differences in attitude to animals in Southern Spain and Northern Europe.

Illness seems to have a good hold of us this winter. We have just been struck down again. This time at least, El Rubio was not in the firing line, and neither was I.

El Hombre got sinusitis, i think its called, and it got really bad in the weekend. He could hardly move around for the pain in his head and behind his eyes. Having not had this before, it took a bit before we figured that it was the sinuses which were the culprits.

I decided to get out of the house with El Rubio as much as I could, as I am sure that the high-pitched shrieking, screaming and yelling of a child just over a year old is not what you need when your head is about to explode.

We went to see some of our other foreign friends in the village, and it endd up being a rather productive trip. As I moaned about El Hombre being ill again, it seemed that these sinus problems are rather common and everybody had a bit of a boots pharmacy going on at home. So I came back with the loot which included: Those drops you put in boiling water to inhale (cannot for the life of me remember what they are called right now), vapour rub, decongestion and painkiller tablets, and some other tablets. And they really did the trick! He is feeling much better, as the headache is more of a normal headache and not this crippling pain.

I think we need to stock up in Boots next time we are home in the UK. Sounds silly as you can get a lot of good products here in Spain, but there is something about using products you know well and have always used. Old habits die hard I guess.

I’ve not been that efficient at blogging this month, but El Rubio has been ill again(!) so he has been home from nursery creating havoc in the house instead.

The Junta de Andalucia (kinda andalucian government) have made some efforts recently to make things a bit more userfriendly. A much needed step! Part of this has been to introduce a Service called Salud Responde, a telephone service open 24/7 for you to book appointments with the doctor or ask questions.

This is brilliant, as they previous way was an utter waste of time. To see the doctor in our small local health centre you had to get up early in the morning, queue with all the other ill people or just people having their prescriptions renewed (80% elderly people who would start the line at 7, the doctor arrived at 8 ) get a number when the doctor arrived and then estimate when it might be your turn. So if say, your number was 26, you then had to try to suss out how long it would take for the 25 patients before you to be seen which meant you always ended up waiting at least at hour because you didn’t want to get there too late and miss your turn.

Going to a health centre in a nearby larger town meant trying to call around 10 times to make an appointment and being on hold for 10 minutes. So I am so chuffed with this new system.

The telephone number for Salud Responde is 902 505 060. I don’t think they speak other languages than Spanish, but I have not tried. Obviously this could be dependant on the operator you get through to.

I really really need to learn Spanish properly.

I can speak it quite and get by, but I would love to feel confident that my grammar was correct and not break into a cold sweat everytime I am asked to write something.

Furthermore, what if we move from Spain one day? I can then add to my CV that I can get by in Spanish? Not really good enough. Would be nice to have a diploma or degree of some sort to prove that I can speak it to so and so level.

Since moving abroad I have gained a much better understanding of why immigrants don’t always learn the language even after several years in their adopted country. The reason is that it is so easy not to. You hang out with other immigrants, you can get buy in the shops and on the street, you work with other immigrants. A bit sad though, but that is how reality is for a lot of people, myself partly included.

Living in a small village I haven’t met that many spanish people my age that I really feel like I am connecting with. Yes, I chat and am friendly with quite a few, but friendship cannot be forced and if you  have only a few things in common it doesn’t really evolve that much. For that reason I do wish I lived in Madrid or Barcelona sometimes.

Feeling a bit sick as I have absolutely stuffed my face with toffee this morning (morning in Spain lasts until 2, remember?). My mum is over and have brought supplies which I have been doing my best to demolish to  a level of great success. So I am now suffering.

We are ill again! Can’t believe it but I guess that is the price you pay when your child starts at the nursery.

E l Hombre has been ill for a week, I have been ill for a few days, Rubio has got a cold and now has diarrhoea (thank god for spell check!) for the third day in a row.

I was in tears changing him before because his little bottom was so red he was just crying when I changed him and trying to get away. Proper tears and all. I really didn’t like it. I’ve got some cream and all, but it is difficult to keep at bay when he is constantly shitting.

So the photo doesn’t have much to do with being ill, it is just one I took the other day when I was out with the dogs. It is, or was, a frog. Now it is a very flat and dead frog. I like the colours of the earth in the photo and the slight stain on the ground around his body. Maybe the earth got sodden with frog blood. What colour is frog blood anyway?

I am getting bored with being ill and my respect for single parents have really grown. I can’t imagine being alone with your sick child and feeling like shit yourself.

Unfortunately my blog has been down, so I have not been able to let you all know that it was my birthday in the weekend.But it was, and it was a really nice day, even though the weather has gone a bit cooler and it was a bit overcast.

We drove to Marbella and had a really nice lunch in the harbour, just me and my little family. And when I say the harbour, I don’t mean Puerto Banus. I think I would be silently grinding my teeth (or maybe not so silently?) during our meal just thinking of how large the bill was going to be, had we gone to Banus.

Anyway, I don’t think Banus and Nuevo Andalucia (located just behind Puerto Banus) has that much atmosphere, I much prefer some of my secret places down in Marbella. Those sorts of cafes and restaurants where you won’t find many tourists and you certainly won’t find steak, eggs and chips on the menu.

I wonder what it is like living in Puerto Banus? Would it feel like the real Spain (and what is the real Spain anyway? That’s a discussion for another day…) with all the rental apartments, villas and hotels everywhere? I really strike me as one of those places that triple in size in the summer and might be a bit empty the rest of the year.

This post wasn’t supposed to be about tourists and non-tourists in Spain and where they live, but about my birthday.

Suffice to say I had a really nice day. With El Rubio being so small and the fact we have a really good routine going at the moment, I find it so much easier to go for a nice lunch rather than go out for a meal in the evening.

Tired now, even though the little one slept through last night! Hurray. Let’s have some more of those.

Today Santa Claus came to the nursery. All the parents had been asked in advance to bring a small present to their child so Santa could hand them out.

It was fun and absolute chaos!

The main room for all the kids is rather small, so everywhere were kids and parents stood up and sat down on little children’s chairs. One mother even fell off the kiddie chair as they were so small. Since El Rubio has only just started going recently it was nice to see some of the other parents, but I didn’t get much of a chance to introduce myself with the noise and kids everywhere.

Besides El Rubio there are 2 other kids with foreign parents. One whose parents are English and one whose mum is English and father Spanish. Not all the parents could come (it took place at 12 o’clock so a lot would have been working) so I ended up with other kids in my arms now and then as there was tears and tantrums.

Then Santa Claus arrived (behind the beard was one of the women who works in the nursery). And even though the kids had been prepared for the moment the whole week, the fact that a guy with a big beard would come, most of them were terrified.

Almost all of them started crying when they went to sit on his lap to get their present. El Rubio was a little bit too small to really get the whole thing, so he didn’t cry he just didn’t want to sit there on this strange persons lap.

After we left I felt my whole head was ringing as the noise levels were so loud! No wonder he is a bit knackered coming home from nursery some days.

As the little one is getting older and I have more work to do, we have started looking around for nurseries here in Spain. They are currently building a locally run one in the village, but I have no idea of when it will be ready. Not September gone as was the original plan, that’s for sure.

So the other day I drove on to a nearby village to have a look at their nursery. I knew other foreign mothers had used it, and they spoke well of it.

Well…I don’t quite know where to start. The nursery consisted of two rooms as well as a large bathroom and a kitchenette. A small outside area covered with that stuff they use on playgrounds so the children don’t hurt themselves when they fall. A few tractors and cars etc. but no trees, grass or bushes.

Inside there was a TV in the corner blaring out cartoons and quite a lot of kids in those two rooms, as the doors where closed to the outside.

One (1!) woman greeted me as I entered with El Rubio.

Me:”So I just wanted to have a look around as I need some childcare and this place has been recommended to me by some mothers in my village. Are you here all alone?”

Her:”No, no. The other woman is just out buying the bread” (Note how it is THE bread. One must always have bread here in Spain and everybody go out and buy it every day for their meals. So it’s not some bread, but THE bread.)

Me:”How many kids are there here?”

Her:”29 kids. We are open between 9.30 to 1.30 and at 11.30 they have their breakfast* and we go out to play.”

At this point I was ready to leave. Two adults and 29 children between 9 months and, I guess, 4 years old? Blimey, those kids must just love all the attention they will get. And what if they just want to sit alone in a corner and play? Not possible. And what happens if a child is really upset one day and wants to be on the arm or lap most of the time? Not possible.

A little girl of 10 months was very tired and wanted to sleep, so she got put in her pram in the middle of the noisy room. 4 older children surrounded her eager to to take part in everything. A bit daunting for a tired little baby.

Not wanting to show my true feelings about the place, I asked for their telephone number in case I wanted a place. I got it and the woman also showed me a piece of paper that she told me they hand out to the parents.

Her:”This is our suggestions for what food the parents should bring with them on a weekly basis so it doesn’t get too boring for the children”

Again, thanks to my superb acting skills I think I managed to suppress  my true feelings of disbelief and despair. I can’t remember all their suggestions, but Thursday was biscuits and juice and Friday was bread and chocolate. Is it any wonder the Spanish kids are getting fatter?

Anyway, I left and went for breakfast with Rubio before we headed back home. Next week I will be hitting the nursery trail again.

* Note: Breakfast in Spain is usually between 9.30-11 when people will have a half hour break, go to a cafe and have a coffee and some tostada (toast) . Which meanis you go to a shop, the bank or similar to see someone, you might be told they are out for breakfast and all you can then do is wait around for 30 min. or more…but that’s a completely different story

That’s what he is my son, rubio.
Rubio means blond or fair in Spanish, so that’s what they all call him when they see him in the pushchair. He is now 9 months old and getting more and more interested in the world around him and all the people wanting to talk to him.  Because if there is one thing the Spanish like, it’s children. I never did realise HOW much until I had my son.

When I go for a walk I get loads of old people coming over to see him and tell me how sweet and beautiful he is. Even children and teenagers are really keen and positive, my son is going to grow up very spoilt with all that attention!

And then there is back home.
All three of us went back this summer for a holiday and to show of the boy wonder. And it felt really strange as he was practically invisible to everyone not family or friends. All of a sudden I also felt a lot more aware of him being noisy  and a bother to other people when we where out, something I don’t really think about here in Spain as you are never made to feel it’s a problem bringing your kids. Quite the contrary I would say.

Numerous times when I have been out with him I have had waitresses ask if they can pick him up and playing with him. One even danced around with him showing him all the coloured lights in the ceiling.
Once I took the elevator and shared it with a man who on the outset looked like a grumpy middle-aged guy only to see him turn into a baby blabbering chatty person.

It’s a shame really that it is not more like that at home. I don’t think I know a single person who wouldn’t appreciate strangers being this positive and involved in their babies and children. And it is a great conversation starter. I know so many more people where I live after I got “El Rubio”.