If girls can wear pants, why can't boys wear dresses?

I have been instructed by our nursery school teacher that my 3.5 year-old child, who has boy parts, should wear boy clothes and not come in dresses. I am pretty sure one teacher told me that it would cause "problems" for him later in life. (Perhaps I didn't understand the Hungarian. I could swear that she said it might even cause dyslexia!!??) The other teacher said it would cause confusion in the classroom for the other boys. Thoughts? I have LOTS of thoughts about this issue, but don't want to color your responses. I would love to hear your responses, experiences, etc.

First Words

On the way to nursery school today I was telling Iza about her birth.  Tomorrow is her fifth birthday and she was thrilled to hear that she was born during a snowstorm.  Then she asked me what her first word was.  I was able to answer with full confidence, Ball.  Leo then asked what his first word was.  And, well, I had no idea.  A blank.  So I said that his first word was Tata.  "No, mama," he laughed.  I remember.  It was, Iza!"

New Year's Day Menu 2013

French Meat Pie
by Sister M. Concepta Mermis

31/2 lb. ground pork
1 lb. ground beef

I managed to purchase .6 kilo pork and .6 kilo beef at the large market this year.

2 tsp. salt
3 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. pepper
1 1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1 tsp. celery salt
1 c. dry bread crumbs (or more)
1 onion

After cooking the meat with two small onions, I measured it and found that I had 8 cups of meat.  I roughly estimated that I started with half the amount of meat called for in the recipe.  So I divided the meat into 4-cup amounts.  For the French pie I added a bit less than half the prescribed spices.  Omitting celery salt because I couldn't manage to find it.  Instead I food-processed a stalk of celery and cooked it with the meat.  For the Hungarian pie I omitted the cinnamon and cloves and added 1 teaspoon paprika and 1 minced clove garlic.  

Cook meat and 1 onion in water to cover meat, simmer about 45 minutes to 1 hour. Break up the meat with a wooden spoon as it cooks. Remove onion and discard. Set aside to cool.

Skim off grease (use to make pastry). Add bread crumbs and seasonings.  Put meat mixture into pastry shell, top with crust. Slit the top of the crust to allow steam to escape. Bake on cookie sheet or foil in case the pie bubbles over. Bake about 35 minutes or until brown in 400 degree oven. Let stand about thirty minutes before serving.

I have never yet managed to make a decent pie crust and usually buy store-bought shells.  I could only find phyllo dough.  So.....this year it will be meat strudel!  I added a lot more than one cup of bread crumbs to eat mixture because I feared that that strudel could not handle too much liquid.  It was deemed more elegant than a pie and tasted not unlike an Cornish pasty without the vegetables.  

Search my blog for "meat pies" to see how I cooked this in previous years.

Christmas 2012

This was our first Christmas in Budapest at our new apartment.  Grandma lives with us and the entire Christmas feast was in  her hands.

A lovely snow fell on the city on the 23rd, setting the Christmas scene.

Christmas here, at least for our family, is celebrated on Christmas Eve.  That morning Laszlo took the kids out to see a children's movie.  This gave me time to wrap the gifts.  It was a modest selection this year by design and due to lack of time.  We have all been sick for most of December and Laszlo as in America. There was little time to shop.  I did make a last-minute trip to the WAMP, a Hungarian Design Market.  I made a pass through the market but was a bit overwhelmed at the options. So I headed back to the nearby mall.  The mall, however, was filled with junk.  The usual mass-market, made of toxic chemicals, shipped around the world, disney-themed stuff of the toy store.  I dashed back to the design marked and made a few lovely purchases just as the market closed the day before Christmas Eve.

In the afternoon I took the kids down the block to our local church for what was advertised as a nativity. I am sure it was lovely.  But I can't report for sure because we arrived thirty minutes late and heard a few hymns but spied not one shepherd.  The kids didn't seem to mind and we explored the church until the priest had locked the front doors and started to turn off the lights.

I led the kids to a local grocery store to buy yogurt, but lo-and-behold it was closed.  Everything was closed. Luckily the hotel on the corner was open and we took our time riding the elevator, searching for the hotel swimming pool, and finally crossing and recrossing the pedestrian bridge over the main street. We found a drink of water.  Used the bathrooms.  Had a minor tantrum.  Finally, I got the call.

The angels had arrived at the house.

We returned.  The angels had dropped some candies along the hallway and lit candles making a trail to the tree and all the gifts.  Wrapping paper exploded.  The kids could read all our names and distribute the packages.  Grandma Kelley and family were in attendance via Skype.  Daniel visited virtually as well.  Not to mention Livi.  It was a cozy family gathering around the glow of the laptops.

Dinner was stuffed cabbage.  It turns out that nagymama does not add tomato paste to her dish, which I believe I did last year.  She also refrains from adding extra sausage or other add-ins.  Simple, tasty, and not too cabbagy.  Champagne and szaloncukor rounded out the evening.  I bought the handmade szaloncukor chocolates from the Aztek Choxolat Cafe, a favorite spot of mine from our days on Semmelweiss utca.

One Billion Rising: Budapest

Hello, Budapest friends, I was wondering if you might want to be involved with a project that raises awareness about violence against woman.

Hunter Roberts, an American living in Budapest, would like to organize a local Budapest event as part of the worldwide One Billion Rising campaign. Here is the link:

http://onebillionrising.org/

Eve Ensler is a well-known activist in America who works to end violence against women and girls. I have worked on her campaigns in the past.

We plan to meet this coming Wednesday, the 19th. If you are interested, send me a private message or comment below.

Epic Party

Kedves x,

Most, hogy elkezdtük be- és el-rendezni budapesti életünket, arra gondoltunk, hogy folytatjuk egy kedvenc Bostoni hagyományunk, és meghívjuk a barátainkat, kedves ismerőseinket egy kellemes estére.

Ráadásul azt is fontosnak tartjuk, hogy megismertessünk olyan értékeket, amelyekről nem biztos, hogy eleget tudtok. Így lesz ez most is. Csíkszeredai barátom Részegh Botond elhozza legújabb festményeit, Dragomán György részelteket olvas fel a Botond képeihez írott novellájából, Palya Beát pedig talán ezekből inspirálódva hallhatjuk majd.

Ha lenne kedvetek velünk és barátainkkal tölteni egy estét, gyertek el November 24-én 19.00-tól.


Várunk szeretettel,
László, Janet, Iza es Leo.


PS. Kérlek jelezzétek, hogy el tudtok-e jönni.

Thanksgiving 2012

Cancelled.

phew.

instead:  mama drinking mulled wine, then pinot noir at local cafe.  tata putting kids to bed.  mama blogging and attending to email correspondence.  eavesdropping on an ESL discussion between two middle-aged psychologists on a date. they are jotting notes on a shared napkin.  He is German, ya.

Pink Martini is playing on the radio.

grandma made kolbasz (sausage) and mashed potatoes for dinner.

thanks indeed.  i'll take it.

Theater Project

Hello, All!

Happy Thanksgiving!

We rehearsed today and decided to change our schedule.  Please give us your feedback about the following dates:

Tuesday, Nov. 27, 5 - 7 pm, at Ulysses Language School.  Characters needed:  Alajos, Franny, and Rozi.

Tuesday, Dec. 4, 5 - 7 pm, at Janet's.  All characters needed

Monday, Dec. 10, 5 - 7 pm, at Janet's.  All characters needed.  ****This date is changed to Monday because Aniko is not able to come on that Tuesday.  We could do it Monday with her OR meet on Tuesday without her.

Tuesday, Dec. 18, 5 - 7, at Janet's. All Characters needed.

Saturday, Dec. 22, 7 pm  THE SHOW!


thanks,

janet

To Hear a Blind Man

registered somewhere alongside cars, trams, and the sounds of Hungarian:  click, click, click, click.  I move to the curb before I fully realize that this is the sound of a blind person making his own way down the city street. this I love.

a toddler's mood escalating toward a tantrum is redirected toward joy upon the discovery a young man on a small white bicycle doing spins and jumps in the square.

watching students flow out of a university building.  not a primary colored parka or a pair of sneakers to be seen.  

having grandma put the kids to bed while we walk ten minutes to the theater.

the new Belgian restaurant that opened on our block.

roasted chestnuts from street vendors.

the old women selling flowers.  the bent-in-half posture, her headscarf.  the way she grasps in both hands a bouquet of flowers freshly cut from her own garden.  when you buy a bunch, she slowly wraps the wet stems in newspaper.  she is unfailingly polite.  she is old.  her flowers are fresh and fragrant.  of course I buy two bunches, one for each child to carry home to grandma.  

the Roma women lofting brassieres into the air at the metro entrance.  imploring you with the promise of a good price.

Christmas markets and mulled wine.

the automatic and effusively generous offer of help when boarding a tram with a stroller and two toddlers.

no car.  only public transportation.  

walking everywhere.

pacing yourself with the crowd.

choosing to stand on the right or walk on the left down the escalator to the metro train.

being deeply immersed in a novel on my iPhone while seated on a tram and at the same time scanning the doorway at each stop to see if my seat can be offered up to a commuter who needs it.

not multi-tasking so much as living-connected.

Duck Feet

Iza, where are your dirty clothes?

in the Hancock.

Where?  Oh, you mean the hamper.  

Today:

The kids dress themselves.  Leo eats two bowls of oatmeal drizzled with honey and adorned with a smiley face made of raisins.  Iza eats one bowl.  

Then down three flights of stairs.  Leo descends the entire way bumping on his bottom.  

Through the park. Down into the metro.  

Three stops, including going under the Danube.

A stop at the new "Food Fusion" shop where the kids have discovered they can get a little cup of milk. Leo, who is happy to delay going to nursery school, suddenly develops an insistent need for a bit of milk from this shop.  I also buy sweet potatoes, an unusual food here.  I buy the sweet potatoes because the young man who runs the shop does not have a way to charge me for the little milks.  I have tried to pay him, to offer it as a tip at the coffee bar.  Nope.  So now we have sweet potatoes.

Up to the ovoda (nursery school.)

Leo proudly shows his new winter shoes to one of the ovi teachers.  She looks at me and tells me that it is unhealthy for his feet to wear his shoes inversely and that they must be changed.  I say nothing and I do not change them.  Because here is the deal:  The kid is having tantrums.  He obviously is not happy with all the changes that have been foisted on him--change of country, new home here in Budapest, going to nursery school, speaking in Hungarian.  If the little guy wants to wear his shoes inversely, then that is cool by me.  Of course I explained to him that morning how the velcro should be fastened such that the flower design in on the outside of the foot for all to see.  But he disagreed.  Yes, he chose the same dark purple boots with a floral motif as his sister.  The boy knows what he wants.  And he wants to fasten them inversely right now.  Fine by me.  Let's just say, this particular teacher is doing her job by laying down the rules.  But my job as a parent is to respond to my child first.  My kid needs to feel like he has some control over his life.  Let him wear his shoes as he wills.  

It is stressful to lack the language skills to explain my point-of-view and parenting philosophies.  I did not appreciate being told her opinion about what is best for my child's feet.  Really?  Did she think I didn't know or didn't care that his shoes were on backward?  And really, universe and podiatrists, is it really unhealthy that my child goes through a phase of wearing his shoes inversely?  Will he walk on  hobbled little stubs because of this laissez-faire parenting style of mine?

Dear ovoda teacher, please read:  UNCONDITIONAL PARENTING by Alfie Kohn.

Kisses (and no tantrum!) and then I retrace my metro route home, stopping at a local cafe to meet the husband.

Green Tea.  Warm tuna sandwich.  

We discuss our upcoming party, our children's future and education, Hungarian bureaucracy, and Boston real estate.  He asks me our wedding anniversary because he needs it for some paperwork.  I don't know.  We finally manage to find it because I remind him that he has scanned all our documents into the Intertubes.  April 21, 2006.

Then I step into a local design store and buy a new espresso maker--the stovetop kind.  I have one. It doesn't work despite all the voodoo I've tried.  Fingers crossed for the new one.

Back up the three flights to our apartment.

Minutes later two other actors arrive so we can rehearse our play.  Of course we take a cake break.  Not your typical Hungarian cake break as Stefan stopped by our local vegan shop and picked up some "reform" cake.  Very healthy stuff.  Not exactly within the parameters of what you are used to when it comes to cake.  Very granola.  

The actors leave.  I eat all the remaining cake.

Then I nag the husband about being late to pick up the kids.  Today is his first occasion to pick them up from nursery school.  

My mother-in-law is still on Skype.  So I step out and buy a few items from a local Hungarian designer's boutique.  I return. Grandma is till on Skype.  

I make tea.

Now I blog while I wait for the family to come home.

Tantrums:     0

Number of trips up/down three flights:     4

Cups of tea:     4

cups of coffee:     2

Days left until our performance:  16