Mosquitos

These children are demons. Constantly hitting, yelling, running wild. No respect for, well, anything. At all. In ten minutes I've got to try to get the elder one, at least, to sit down and do some math work in English for an hour. It's torture for both of us.

So how am I doing here in Spain? Hard to say. It varies. I have made a friend, which is nice. And perhaps I may be able to go to a music festival in two weeks. So do I love Spain? Yes. Do I love my job? No, not so much. The family is very nice overall, and the baby is wonderful, but the two little boys are complete demons. Thank god for the other woman who works here, Cinthia. Her main responsibility is to clean the house, cook, and take care of the baby, but she helps me with the boys a lot. And she's fun to talk to, at least when my Spanish is good enough.

Oh, and I hate living out here in Pozuelo. It's like being stuck in Westchester. And it's not like you can do anything nice with the kids, like take them to a park or into the city for the day, because they really just do not know how to behave in public. These are the kind of kids one might resort to hitting just to get a point across. But I am a solid believer in "fear." Fear me, dammit. Just from the tone of my voice. The tone of my voice and the expression on my face should be enough to scare them into calming down and behaving at least a little less than devilishly.

All day, Cinthia and I roll our eyes at each other and sigh "los ninos son muy disobedientes."
So yeah, right now, at this moment, I kind of hate my job.

I need to do something fun this weekend.