- by Krista Cornish Scott
Friday morning was the start of the St. Anthony festival or Sardine festival or Lisbon festival or whatever else the guidebooks are calling it. So of course on the day I needed to get out and find some cream for Colum’s shoulders, all of the Farmacia’s were closed. Blargh.
Colum was still not feeling up for a tourist day, so I sent everyone else out to the Gulbenkian art museum to enjoy the treasures, and for Serrin to get a chance to run around the beautiful park and see baby ducks, etc.
Last time we were here, we had quite the little episode. Little five year old Colum was walking around just minding his own wee business when TRIP! AHHHHH! SPLAT! he tripped over the slightly raised display edge in the furniture room and fell full torso onto a gorgeous antique 17th century bench much to the horror of Brett, me, poor Colum and the security guard who I swear did this Matrix-y slo-mo “nooooooooOOOOO!” towards him in vain as it happened so fast. SO EMBARRASING! Yet thankfully the bench seemed to be undamaged. Well I was curious about that bench. And here it is. Notice anything about how far back from the edge it is now? Yep, we’re pretty sure they moved it. A kid could trip on the edge now and face plant on the floor before reaching the edge of the bench.
I don’t mean to brag, but my child helped redesign an exhibit in the Gulbenkian museum. (Scroll down, the bench is the last pic in this set. The ledge is on the ground flush with the white sign.)
Lyceum friends: Kenna burst out with THE MING DYNASTY AND THE CHING DYNASTY when she saw these!
This was clockwork and moved around as they watched.
So then to the outside, for much playing in the gardens and drinking of “Leite do chocolate” and Serrin stealing the camera and taking many adorable pictures of her wee feet.
Later that day, we went out walking to enjoy the festivities. Mom wanted to try some real Portuguese food so she took Aedhan out with her and they had sardines and other delicious dishes. The rest of us went to the Kebab Mahal for some cheaper greasy spoon fare where we ordered Indian food, burgers and a doner kebab! All were happy.
This first apartment we’ve stayed in has been PERFECT for our needs. Easy to walk to lots of interesting things, just a block from a metro station and big grocery store. And excellent windows that shut out the noise of evening revelers. We went back to the river side in the early evening so Serrin and Kenna could play on the beach. Brett and I just sat on the sand and enjoyed the music, the breeze, the girls having fun, the boys were with Granna and all was well with the world.
Aedhan has been getting a lot of freedom from us while here. We’ve send him out on errands, finding his way alone in both Germany and Portugal. He has had free run with the camera and has taken some amazing shots of buskers and festival stuff. But then he did take off for an hour not remembering that I asked him to meet us at the river and this free range mama confesses to many thoughts of kidnapping and mugging ending with I WILL KILL HIM and oh look there he is. I know all of this is important and he and we his parents continue the dance of protection/freedom. He also knows that he gets more freedom both here and at home than many friends. But we’ve also talked frankly about issues like (oops, awkward! Hi mom reading my blog. And dad I guess too, depending on the Wi-Fi in heaven.) my family of origin and the way I was brought up to be more fearful in the way I viewed the world and to always think of the worst possible outcome. I have made conscious choices to move away from that way of thinking, and model it for my children. I think I do a pretty decent job of not letting that be a large part of my parenting. But it’s deeply implanted and I can’t always get rid of that first impulse. However I AM good at letting that first impulse just be in my own brain, and not speaking it aloud. But you know… here we are in Europe with the kids and I’m not spending each day in worry. I consider just that fact a great success. Worry is a mother’s work. But I don’t have to place that worry on their shoulders. They’ll get it for free someday when they become parents.
Anyway. Our last night in this downtown apartment before we go up the hill to Castelo/Graca and the REAL partying begins!
Two more pics before I’m done. These two photos could be captioned: “#1 “Hey Serrin, don’t go under there” and “#2 – “…..you mean under HERE? Technically, am I under?”
whyyesweare 