Honduras Mission

At the end of February I left for our church's annual Honduras mission trip. It's a week long medical mission in which we spend a day in each of four communities in the north of Honduras. we spend the better part of the week in a beach front hotel, which helps us feel like we're on vacation at the end of long exhausting medicine dolling days. The pictures below are just some of the ones taken by different member of our missionary group. Enjoy: Beach sunsets are amazing:

The water was a bit cold to be out there...it was warmer than Los Angeles beaches though.

I was translating for some our doctors.

Separation anxiety

Hi, I guess this is my first real post on this.

They say children go through separation anxiety at about 9 or 10 months. Mommies have trouble the first time they leave their kids with a babysitter or their first day of childcare or the first day of school... My 4 year old did the 9 or 10 month thing.

I didn't cry the first day of childcare, no problem with the first day of school. I had trouble with the first overnight, with all the overnights. This is me to my husband "Do you think he's ok? Should we call to find out how he's doing? What if he won't go to sleep?" I have trouble with nights out, I leave them all day, do it at night too??? Just seems like such punishment even though he cries leaving the person's house when I pick him up.

Now, this weekend I'm taking my first baby, my 4 year old, all the way accross the country and leaving him there for a whole week (I'm tearing up just typing this)...And even though he'll be with his cousin, who he refers to as his "sister" and his Tia who was his childcare for almost a year, and I know he'll have so much fun and not think of me until time to go to sleep...seeing what I wrote above can you see how hard this is for me??? It's torture and I don't even know why I'm doing it...actually writing this, if I hadn't already bought the tickets that I can't return, I think I'd change my mind...

If it's so hard for me, why am I doing it, you say? A couple of reasons, first because it is so hard for me. I need to get over this separation enxiety thing, and if I practice on the kid I know will not have a hard time with it because he is attached to his tia and his cousin, then it won't be so hard to leave them both, when we decide to take a vacation without the kids, which is what my husband has dreamed of doing since Ricky was born. As for the second reason, well that's the same reason reworded because I know he'll love it and he needs a little independence, he's kind of a momma's boy.

Stay tuned for how I'm doing while he's gone.

This is an exercise I found in my cousin Candidkarina's blog. She did it a while ago, but it's always a fun way to be poetic. Specially for those of us that aren't very good at being poetic naturally. So this is a little bit about me. I apologize to those who don't speak Portuguese for some of the words, but you'll still enjoy it. You can still ask me what the words mean and I'll explain! Click on the title below for your own template to this cool poem.


Where I'm From:


I am from Maria Cookies, from Ovaltine and Sopas de café com leite.
I am from the built from the ground up by Dad, house in a village in Africa, sounds of dogs barking and children playing, low light throughout the house and a soft breeze through opposite doors in an open barn-like living room and kitchenette.
I am from the botanical gardens, juicy flowers, black beaches, the long grass, forget-me-nots, days of rolling down the grassy hills.
I am from opening Christmas gifts at midnight on Christmas Eve and sharing a long dinner before, from Vovos from Portugal, and tios and cousins, and Grandma and Grandpa Melo.
I am from the computer games and programming and late nights with Dad.
From nostalgic songs that replaced lullabies, and Portuguese nursery rhymes.
I am from atheism with strong moral beliefs, learning about faith through the hunger for friendship, feeling the Holy Spirit invade me and never let go, struggling to accept Jesus within my logical brain.
I'm from Luanda, Madeira, Alentejo, and moving from place to place. From Muamba, feijoada, and mom’s steak and French fries.
From the Christmas nights of daddy dressing up as Santa Claus, the stories mom told us about Angola at the dinner table, Tia singing along with Cats and Dogs Christmas tunes “Woof Woof Woof, Woof Woof Woof…”
I am from drawers full of memories left behind, file cabinets jammed with pictures, albums of Polaroid’s portraying years of summer vacations.
I am from love and Family. Paula