Several people on the flight the day before had said the same thing to us, “Aren’t you brave?” Now, I’ve been living in the South long enough to equate this phrase to, “Bless her hear.” It’s something that is supposedly sweet but really means, “Dang, that girl needs to get herself together. I am sure most people by this point in reading, wonder why on earth we would decide to take our five kids on a vacation on the other side of the world for a month. Add in that 3 of those 5 children are 5 years old or younger, and you can just say it, “Are you crazy?”
I know, I know. Taking five kids to experience another country is o walk in the park and definitely not one would define as a ‘vacation.’ So let me take this time when I am typing at 4:20 am, and my biological clock has yet to readjust to tel you the reasoning behind completely shifting my children’s normal, and pushing our own sanity and patience.
Almost a year ago, I was doing some serious pondering. I had just taken the last 3-4 months or so to look for a job. Yes, me as a mama of 5 was thinking of returning to work. The outside stimulation would be a welcome change, but more so I had visited a Montessori Spanish Immersion preschool and fell in love. Well, with all of it but it’s $1500 per month price tag. I had been teaching ESL online to young students in China for a couple of months, and I was astonished at the perfect pronunciation, reading, and comprehension of these students with a native tongue so different from our own. Many were enrolled in immersion schools and it was clear which ones were with their almost native abilities.
I have been married to Mike for 17 years at this time, and he had fluent Spanish speaking skills learned through a mission to Spain more than 20 years ago, but kept up through some bilingual banking experience and many other self-motivated opportunities to use the language. But with five children, none of then had the language passed down to them despite different conversations about how to have him teach them.
I had determined if I went back to work, I could economically provide a language immersion environment if we hired a native Spanish speaker or an au pair to come and speak with my youngest children while I was as work. The idea seemed to have a lot of win wins, and I felt like a lot of promising opportunities might surface as I did several informational interviews with professionals in my former career, attended a ‘Return to Work’ Workshop sponsored by my husband’s employer, and got calls from recruiters.
I was quite bothered when a close friend of mine discouraged me to look for different options. Thinking of different income streams I could pursue and advising what I would miss out on if I did go back to work full-time. I’m grateful for good enough friends that are honest, but in that moment, I was so set on my dream and ideas, that I didn’t welcome most of her ideas, but there was one thing that stuck to my mind like gum glued to the bottom of a coffee table. “Maybe this is something that is idea is meant to help lead you in another direction,” she said.
Every time I kept on moving forward, those words came back. But at the time, I didn’t really see another direction to go to get what I felt like God had inspired me to do. I was torn inside, and wasn’t sure what to make of it.
One early evening, I went for a walk around a park next to a lake by my home. As I followed the windy path, that felt secluded, yet safe under the deep green pine bows, I was half praying and half thinking through my situation and choices ahead. There is something about the beauty of nature, I believe invites God into our hearts. A clearing away of worldly cares, and a connection with the power that has created all things and is mindful of the smallest aunt to the largest pine.
As I walked, the feeling pressed on me. Like a vibrating synthesis of light and sound, “Adrienne, I want you to learn the language. You will teach them. I have a mission for you.” The feeling was so real. I had only felt something like that a handful of other times in my life. At the birth of my babies, the deathbed of my grandfather, and after a dream that revealed 4 years prior to it being fulfilled that I would have 5 children (God had made that one happen by throwing in a 2 for 1, right their at the end). God fulfills his purposes.
Tears. Tears and Joy. If there had been anything else on my face, I think the other walkers that went past me probably would have questioned if something was wrong. But the sweetness of that moment of God saying, “I am mindful of you. I know your concerns and hopes, and I have a purpose and a mission for you.”
When I came home from that walk I told Mike about it. As usual, he asked, “Are you sure?” I said, it felt the way the dream felt when I knew we would have five kids. He didn’t question after that.
Over the next few days and weeks I started to go ‘work.’ One might say. I went to the library and started checking out children’s books in Spanish and fumbled through the pronunciation while reading them. I talked to Spanish-speakers at parties in hopes our families might get to know one another. I started listening to free Spanish audio books and just a couple months later we found the opportunity for our exchange student to come. Not long after that, we learned that Mike would be grated a 4 week sabbatical with his 10 year anniversary with Bank of America the following Spring. While hiking in the glorious nature of the Utah mountains (it must be God’s ‘corner office’), we began to toss around the idea, “What if we were to go to Spain? Could we take the kids? How could we afford to do it?” The idea seemed possible, but the logistics seemed somewhat impossible. Still, the opportunity seemed too good to pass up.
That following fall while visiting my sister we took the plunge. A flight sale put tickets to Spain on sale for around $550 for the dates we were thinking of going. I had seen them cheaper before, but it seemed like it was possibly the best possibility we could ensure. We booked them, and then sat staring at each other littered with excitement and nervousness. We’re doing this. We’re going to Spain.
Day 2: For Real
I woke up feeling like a train had hit me. That night, our first in an Air B and B in Segovia, just 45 minutes outside of Madrid, 7 of us attempted to sleep and adjust our clocks to a new time zone. The 8th, Jenny, slept great. I woke at 8 am; so grateful. That night I had woken up at midnight but lied still in hopes of having a slumber come back over. At 1 pm I stumbled out of my unfamiliar bedroom to search for the sleeping pills I had packed. Entering the living room, I saw the glow, there in front of the TV were my eldest and my youngest, 2-year-old Edith and 14 year-old Audrey.
“I couldn’t sleep. We are 5 hours ahead so its like morning time in N. Carolina,” Audrey said.
“No, sweetie, N. Carolina is behind by 5 hours so it is only 8 am there,” I said. I ushered her and Edith back to bed and swallowed my sleeping pill hoping to induce sleep on myself as well. Fortunately, it did the trick and I felt like I had slept, but ‘well-rested’ would be far from the truth. I tried to stir all the children. If we were to attempt getting back on schedule, getting a new wake up time would be important even if they also had a difficult night.
I started to scramble some eggs. Mike had bought several different sweet from the store last night. It seemed his memory had captured every delicious packaged good he had tried twenty years ago: pudding, cookies, pastries. And that was after the candy shop last night. I figured I better cook up some protein so our kids were running on restless sleep and sugar.
As I tried to gather up our suitcase that were once neatly packed, but now their contents spilled out all around and on top of the beautifully inlaid dining table, I thought about the idea that had come to me during my sleeplessness during the night. If we were going to make this a Spanish Immersion trip, we needed to increase the communication we were having with each other. Both for Jenny (who wanted to improve her English), and for us whose primary purpose of coming to Spain was for Spanish Immersion.
I called together a family meeting and talked about speaking to each other slowly in our own native language so we could practice listening and picking out works. I also led an impromptu game of gesturing while speaking to help the other person guess what they might be saying. It seemed to warm the group up and I was glad even Jenny, who hadn’t met us more than 24 hours before was willing to play along.
We topped off the meeting with a round of Spanish BINGO (which apparently is the exact same name in Spain), and we began packing up things so we could visit La Granja, or in English ‘The Farm.’
Mike had told me about this place. It was a large palace, hunting grounds and gardens for a king in the late 15th century. Exactly what a ‘farm,’ would be for a king, right? We walked around the gardens that unfortunately did not have their fountains running and opted to not take the kids into the palace. Mike and Jenny decided to head back with the slower youngins while I did the Labryth max with Makayla.
While we were walking about Jenny texted me that they had found a cafe to eat at outdoors. “Hopefully more child friendly I thought.” When I arrived, I saw it was and we had plates of tapas that were good, but half as delicious as the white table cloth lunch the day before. This time the lunch tab was on us though, so I was ok with the down grade. The twins enjoyed the bread… there is always great bread in Spain… why? Sweets, bread, so difficult. The twins throwing fried cheese sticks and spilling Jenny’s Fanta on her were also highlights. The best though was cheese cake at the end. We all said we didnt’ want dessert, but Mike ordered his favorite anyway, made in house. That cake was gone in less than 2 minutes. Tops. And I think I got that last berry and lick of cream cheese.
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The rest of day 2 was nice. For the second time we could see the Roman Aquaduct that runs through the center of a picturesque plaza. Audrey, Jenny and I toured the castle and cathedral, climbing 152 steps to the top of the tower for panoramic views. And I learned lots of Spanish from Jenny and even Audrey started warming up and speaking some too. We had ‘Yow, Yow’ Frozen yogurt fruit parfaits— TCBY will forever be a disappointment now. And babies for the second time got completely dirty at the park across th road from our air B and B because it’s all sand. Yes, sand. I think if I were a parent here, I would protest. It’s really the only think I have found to not like about Spain so far.
Mike made his Spain toritilla for dinner and we enjoyed the delectable jamón (like Italian prosciutto— but the flavor is so much better— and this is coming from a normally fish and veggie eating girl. There are times for exception for everyone).
So much more to share, but there will be times for that later. And now that it is 5:26 am, I am tired.
