Super Optimistic or Depressingly Upbeat?

This morning while doing my half jog/half walk on the treadmill at the Y, reading my latest copy of "O"  during the only part of the day that is truly "me time," I came across a survey that looked intriguing. "How Optimistic Are You?" it implored. I had to do it.


So making mental additions counting up my answers, here's how I scored: I AM A SUPER-OPTIMIST! Wow!  Only ten percent of people, they say, are "super optimists." I thought that was great. I've always been upbeat. In this survey, I was not just a "super optimist" I was an off-the-charts super optimist!  My score was really high. Now I'm not one of those people who wakes up smiling every morning. Nor do I see the world as one big "LaLa" land. I think I'm an optimist because I am a realist. I see the world starting anew every single day. So whatever happened yesterday will not be exactly the same today. The world renews itself every sunrise, as do we.


And then  I read on. "Research has found that super-optimists tend to be prone to unrealistic expectations. When they're driving, for example, they often believe that they're invulnerable to crashing." This immediately brought out the pessimist in me!  The doubter. The superstitious, cautious, reluctant girl inside. 


Maybe this is why I sometimes think about driving into headlights. Maybe this is where the thoughts come from that if I went off a cliff I might survive. Maybe this is why I have countless dreams of being chased. But never being caught. Could I be a depressed optimist? Maybe they forgot to add that. I didn't see that category on the Oprah list. 


What I found out was that super optimists must, then, be really paradoxical. We think we can do it, so we do it, even if we cannot. We just don't stop to think about all the consequences. How screwy is that?


Hmmm, now that makes me depressingly upbeat. I guess that's par for being an optimist.

Schengen & Apostilles: What Do You Know?

My husband accepted a position based in Prague. What does that mean? The Urban Nomads will be moving tents this summer. Unlike twenty years ago when I did it alone, there are some changes in our strategy as a family and some interesting new terms that will affect our move in ways different from how I did it back then.

Do you know what Schengen is? How about an apostille? Does it help if I say we need an "apostille" to get into "Schengen"? How about the fact that you need to know what both of these are before moving to Europe?

As  a soon-to-be wife of an EU citizen,  some years ago, when I first went to Greece with my husband, my Greek father-in-law chastised us for not knowing what "Schengen" was, as if our minds had been cleaned barren by the mere fact that we were from the United States. "Ignorant peasants" is something I have no doubt went through his mind, despite the fact that we are both culturally savvy, well-educated and seasoned world travelers.  "Don't you know Schengen?"  became an inside joke to my husband and I and has given us many moments of shared joy and giggles. I will bet that  99.9% of Americans have no idea what Schengen is and bet that many EU citizens have but a vague notion of its existence.

In fact, in 1985 an agreement was signed by some EU Members in the town of Schengen, Luxembourg that basically called for free travel within twenty-five countries in Europe. In all honesty, I knew that there was a free-travel provision in and between EU countries since the '90s but had NO idea they were now known as the "Schengen" countries! I guess I am "so yesterday" as my son calls me.  There is now a Schengen visa and it's something we are going to need to live in one of the twenty-five countries, Czech Republic being one.

An apostille is much like a notarized document, but it costs more and has way more logistical steps that must be completed. By definition, the "apostille" came about under the terms of the Hague COnvention in the 1960s and was specifically intended to create one international method of documenting paperwork. The Apostille ensures that documents issued by one signatory country will be valid in any of the other signatory countries. Well, as often is the case, the intention has been lost in execution.  First of all, each country has a different apostille certification process and necessitates separate paperwork. The immigration process cannot begin until we have the apostilles of our birth and marriage certificates. In order to get those, we need to go back to the originating states to get the proper documentation to then request the Apostilles. Each separate request and certificate costs money. In our case, we are needing birth and marriage certificates from the State of Florida and are requesting Apostilles prepared for the Czech Republic and for Greece.

(If it worked correctly, we should be fine with one apostille for each document, irregardless of the country it was destined for. But that's only according to the Hague Agreement-- not the state of Florida!)

So, if you're planning to go to Estonia, Latvia, Malta, Lithuania, Slovakia or Slovenia and were not clear that these were now EU and Schengen countries, think again, for you too will need your apostilles before you step foot in Schengen.

NO MORE TV!! NO MORE FRUIT NINJAS! WHEN WILL IT STOP?

Are there any parents out there who have suggestions for how to lesson the "guilt" -- or at least assuage my tiresomeness -- for having to say "NO" all the time? "No, you can't play on my iPod." "No more TV!" " No, you can't download Fruit Ninjas." "No we can't have a playdate today because I just cannot take having two screaming boys in the house." "No you cannot have Henry over because you have not cleaned up your room, done your homework or attempted to do any of your other chores!"

BLAH,BLAH,BLAH!  On and on it goes.

In the "olden" days of my parents, a good, stiff J & B (scotch for those too young to know!) did the trick. They were knocking those suckers back. Sending the kids outside to play was also an alternative. Sending them across the street to the neighbors was a good choice. I recall spending cumulative hours, peering through the screen door of house next to ours, seeing what delights my friend's Mom had cooked for her huge Irish Catholic brood of ten. There was always some ham and turkey in their house -- very tempting for a young Jewish girl being brought up in a Kosher household. 


As kids, we watched as our parents got ready to go out most weekends. Yes, they left us. Often. They were sloshed a lot or leaving us to our own devices…or to the vagaries of babysitters. Often. 


There are plenty of books out there on how to coddle our children. How to "rear" them with logic and love. How to help them find their inner selves. How to protect them. Perhaps enough is enough. What I'd like is more time for parents, not parenting! 


Maybe what we need to assuage this guilt, this constant cloud of "NO" is to walk away more. 
Let's start letting them fall down. Let's let them screw up. Let's let them run amok. 
Heck, it's for their own good!


Well, then how will we deal with the guilt of their chaos? We'll go back to coddling! 


Anyone have ANY ideas? We need help.