Hug Your Mom Today!!!

I mentioned earlier that I have begun a babysitting job. The family arrived here last Monday afternoon, and from Monday to Friday I babysat for them for a total of 37 hours. The parents have been busy unpacking and getting adjusted, and with both kids and parents having jet lag, things have been a bit crazy. Having been with the kids for 37 hours, I feel like I have gotten a good taste of motherhood. Keep in mind that I babysat from the ages of 11-16 almost every weekend night, so I already had a good idea of the amount of work it takes to care for a child. But now I have a bit more perspective of the work it takes to care for a child, combined with having your own responsibilities of laundry, meals, a home, a marriage and all of life’s other pressures. A few things really struck me this week (disclaimer: the names of the family have been changed):

--These children (a little girl, Sally, who is almost 4 and a baby boy, Jimmy, who is 7 months old) are angels. They are some of the sweetest and easiest children I have ever taken care of. Sally can always come up with creative ways to play on her own while I take care of the baby. She never whines, cries or acts bratty. Once Jimmy is fed, he is happy to play and coo all day long. However, even caring for two incredibly easy children leaves me exhausted at the end of the day. Kids can be as sweet as possible, but they still need to be fed and changed and helped in the bathroom and have plenty of attention paid to them, all of which can wear you out.

--This experience also gave me a glimpse into the life of a wife with a husband who travels a lot. Kyle left for a conference on Wednesday and came back Saturday afternoon. At the end of the week I caught a cold from the baby and father. By Friday night I had a sore throat and all I wanted was for someone to take care of me. I at least had a break from the kids during the night (as opposed to real parents), but I can’t imagine if I had been taking care of the kids completely by myself all week.

--Thank goodness Kyle was gone, though, because when I got home it was all I could do to make myself a sandwich, talk to my mom or sister on the phone (so that I at least had some adult contact for the day) and then head to bed. I had not done one piece of laundry, cleaned one dish, cooked one meal or done any housework at our apartment all week. This made me think of all the maids and nannies out there (especially in the 1950s) who cared for an entire household all day and then had to go home and care for their own children and home at night.

--If you are a parent you must have cat-like reflexes and the patience of Job. For as sweet as Jimmy is, he really does not like to have his diaper changed. He fusses during the whole process, which is similar to hearing fingernails on a chalkboard. Although I have done a lot of babysitting, in hindsight I realize that it was mostly for little girls. Although I had known about boys common reactions to when their diapers are changed, it had momentarily slipped my mind. So one day I had just finished taking off Jimmy's dirty diaper. As I am standing over Jimmy and reaching for another wipe, his body reacted to the cold and he started peeing. The only problem was that he did not have a new diaper on yet. My hands and arms were flapping all over trying to stop the mess, but they were obviously not fast enough. He hit the curtain, the windowsill, the changing pad and his own shirt, as well as coming within inches of my head. Maybe I need to practice a few speed drills in my spare time.

--If you are ever told that you only have a day to live, spend it in a house with two kids, no radio and no TV and it will feel like the longest day of your life! There were many moments last week when I would entertain the kids with a game or activity that I was so proud I had come up with. They would play it for awhile and then move on to something new and I would think, "Well, that just killed a whopping 3 minutes. Only another 300 minutes to go!"

--And finally this experience reminded me that everyone should thank their mother today! When I think of my mom, I have memories of her attending my school plays or helping me with a school project. However, I forget how much work she must have done to potty train me, get me dressed every day, bathe me, feed me, and do so many other mundane things that required so much effort, especially in my younger years. At one point on Friday I looked down at my shirt sleeve and thought, “Hmm, I don’t remember feeding the kids anything brown, what could that be?” I took a whiff and came to the horrible realization that when I picked Jimmy up, poop came out of his diaper and onto my sleeve. I cleaned my sleeve, and then cleaned a very messy diaper. Just as I was finishing with Jimmy, Sally said she needed help going to the bathroom. Because they do not yet have the child potty seats that fit these toilets, I had to help hold her over the toilet while she did the equivalent of what Jimmy had just done in his diaper. In case you have never had to hold a child over the toilet, I’ll let you know that basically my face was directly over her butt the whole time. To really add to the experience, I then had to wipe her butt. The whole time I kept thinking, "Wow, and my mom didn't even get paid for all of this."

Thanks Mom!!!

The Real Belgium

I read recently that anyone applying for residency in the Netherlands is required to watch a new video. Apparently this video contains images of two lesbians kissing, a nude beach and people drinking alcohol and dancing. The purpose of the video is to tell potential residents: "If you move here, this is what you are going to encounter, so if you don't like it, don't become a citizen." Although the government won't admit it, one of the ideas behind the video is to slow down the number of Muslims who are moving there.

We have never had to watch a video like that in Belgium, but I think I might have just watched some good possible clips if they need any suggestions. Kyle had to work late tonight, so I was watching television to pass the time. In just one hour of flipping around, I came across:

--Hugh Heffner choosing the next Playgirls (you can imagine how they were dressed);
--an interview with the Prime Minister of Belgium, but instead of having a glass of water in front of him, he had a glass of red wine;
--and the real shocker was a live birth -- to a gay couple who had a surrogate carry their child. The two men and the birth mother were all naked in an inflatable pool while the entire birth was shown -- audio and all. Luckily there were only 'above waist' shots, but the woman still didn't have any clothes on up there either.

I turned the TV off before 10:30, but I am sure if I had kept it on I would have flipped through some pornography too.

So in case any of you were thinking of moving to Belgium or the Netherlands, now you have an idea of what the culture is like!

Basic Training, Brussels Style

After watching several people get adjusted to living in Brussels, as well as going through it myself, I have decided that Brussels is similar to the military. The Belgians break you down and build you back up until you do things their way, with no questions asked. It has been painful to watch the family I am babysitting for get adjusted to Brussels living. It is almost like watching a child go through adolescence, with all of the painful and awkward experiences that one just has to endure. My memories of our first month here are all a blur. In reality, I think your brain just fogs over such horrible memories so that they don’t haunt you. Since I didn’t have my blog when we first got here, I didn’t really record all of our first Belgian experiences. However, having watched this family try to adjust, I think sharing with you what has happened to them (which is similar to our experience, as well as many other people’s) will give you a good idea of what Brussels Boot Camp is like.

Note—the father is Dan, the mom is Lisa, the 4 year old girl is Sally and the 7 month old boy is Jimmy.

Monday
The family arrived at 1 p.m. with two jet-lagged kids. The parents had been awake for the whole 9-hour flight to take care of the kids. I arrived and babysat the kids while the parents took a long nap. Good thing they took the nap, because both children were up until 3 a.m. from the jet lag.

Tuesday
Dan headed to work, still very tired. Lisa had already tried to run the dishwasher once, but the detergent was never released during the cycle. We both looked over the directions and tried to run it again. After two hours, the load was done but the detergent had still not been released—although three inches of water had pooled up in the bottom of the machine. Lisa called the landlord and was told that no one can come to look at the dishwasher until next Wednesday between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. On that day, she will need to pay the workman around 150 euros in cash and the landlord will later reimburse her. In the meantime, we washed of the baby’s bottles (as well as everything else) by hand. The baby stayed awake until 2:30 a.m.

Wednesday
Both Dan and Jimmy had a cold from the new germs in Brussels. The U.S. car seats didn’t fit into the rental car they had, so we went to the rental car place to look for different straps to use on the car seats; the staff was blatantly rude to us. The key to the trash chute didn’t work, but they couldn’t put the trash on the street because they had not bought the proper Brussels trash bags, so they have bags of garbage sitting in their apartment until Friday. Jimmy stayed up until 2:30 a.m. again.

Thursday
Dan was so tired that he wore two different black shoes to work. Lisa tried to use her Belgian ATM card but it would not work. Because I had warned her about how bad Belgian ATMs are, she was not sure if the card was the problem or if it was just the machine, so she walked around for another 30 minutes looking for another machine. Dan had a conference call at 7 p.m. but wanted to see the family for dinner. They made plans to meet up at 5:30, but I told them that restaurants wouldn’t open until at least 7 p.m. They decided anyway to try to find a place and, after walking around for awhile, were (amazingly) able to find a place that was open. To get the kids to dinner, Lisa needed to take the double stroller, which is in the garage. However, once she got the kids strapped into the stroller, she realized that Dan had taken the gate opener with him to work. She could have gone out the other way, which would have required her to maneuver the double stroller through three sets of doors and up, then down, five steps, but she decided to wait at the gate until a car came through--running through the gate with the stroller before it closed again.

Friday
They figured out the problem with the ATM. It turned out that when they first requested their bank cards a months and a half ago, the cards had not arrived within two weeks of their ordering them. Dan called the bank to say that the cards hadn’t arrived, and the bank cancelled the cards and issued new ones. The next day, the original cards arrived. Dan called the bank again, but was told it was too late: The cards had already been cancelled. Fast forward one and a half months to the present day, when those original cards are still working, and the re-issued cards have still not arrived. Apparently, it wasn’t until a month and a half after Dan first called the bank—which happened to be this past Thursday—that the original cards were actually cancelled. Dan called the bank and was told that the second set of re-issued cards would arrive in five days. In the meantime, he was told to come by the bank before 1 p.m. and the banker would withdraw money for him. Dan took a wrong turn on the way, so he was a few minutes late. As he ran to the bank door, his personal banker locked the door in his face, pointed to her watch, and said, “I told you to be here by 1 p.m., because now we have our lunch break.” He had to watch 15 employees leave the bank so they could all take their lunch break from 1 to 2 p.m. while the bank was closed. In Dan’s rush to leave the office to get to the bank, he scratched the side of the rental car pulling out of his very narrow office driveway.

As a result, Lisa had no working ATM card or cash. She went to a store and filled a shopping cart with cleaning products and household supplies. She got all the way up to the cash register, only to be told once there that they did not take credit cards. So she had to put everything back and start all over again at another store that did take credit cards. She came home to show me what she had bought, only for me to tell her that she bought the two wrong types of detergent. In the afternoon she ran out to buy more storage chests with Dan. As she walked out the door, I had to remind her that she was still wearing her slippers.

As Kyle pointed out when I told him all of this, “And this is just their first week here.” I’ll keep you updated on if they survive the next month of boot camp.

The Emmy Awards

Wow, what an honor to be here tonight. I don't even know where to begin. I would like to thank my agent, my stylist, my publicist, the writer, directors, my husband the editor and most importantly my fans, for helping me to reach the 10,000 hits mark on my blog. Thank you, thank you so much.

You don't look a day over 16

I recently celebrated my birthday and had a great day. I got lots of cards and calls and Kyle was even sweet enough to think to get me a cake. Nothing like a Triple Belgian Chocolate cake to celebrate! We went to a nice dinner and the weather even cooperated enough that we were able to sit outside.

The big news surrounding my birthday is that we got a car!!! Anyone who has visited or knows our day to day lives here without a car can appreciate even more how much this means. We have been looking for a month now, and this past Saturday we found a great deal. Below is picture of it-- a Citroen C3. The experience of looking for a car in Belgium was quite different than in the States though. Just a few observations:
--In first dealership we went to, we were ignored for 30 minutes, watched one salesman take his lunch break while we were waiting, and then were told that he was the only guy there that spoke English.
--In another dealership, the guy kept downselling us on things. He told us that you really didn't need the full package and that the smaller car was just a good. He even told us to wait until September for the prices to get better!
--In that same dealership they told Kyle they would fax him some information about pricing and he has yet to see it.
--In the dealership where we bought the car, the guy said that (even though they only have one salesman there on Saturdays) they still sell 6-7 cars that day. I think we figured out how they are not too short staffed -- they don't help you at all! We looked around by ourselves for 20 minutes and then finally went up to him to ask him some questions. He remained seated until we finally asked him to come see the car we were referring to. He then basically read out the details about the car that were on the front windshield. We said we would think about it over the weekend. When we came back on Monday to say we would buy it, then he gave us a glossy brochure about the car. Also, he did not want to let us test drive the car. It was not because the car was a lemon, but because there have to be license plates on the car, even if it is just for a test drive. I have two friends that have both bought cars here without test driving them. He hemmed and hawed for 30 minutes and then finally let us drive the car.
--Even though we bought the car directly off the lot (it was previously driven by the dealer for three months, so we got it for a reduced price) we still can't drive away with it for two weeks. By Belgian law, first the car must be inspected, then we must prove we have insurance, then we must pick up a form from the dealership and take it to the town hall to get our license plate. The town hall gives you one license plate and then you have to go to an engraver place and buy a second (identical) one to put on the front of the car. When we finally have both plates, we can go to the dealership and get the car. The amazing part is that Kyle and I have been so warped by Brussels that we were really excited to be able to pick up the car in only two weeks. Often, when you buy a new car from the lot here, they have to order it and it can take up to three months to get it.

It has been an exciting week here, because beyond getting a car and having a birthday, I also have a new babysitting job. The family has just moved here from the States. They have a sweet 7 month old boy and 4 year old girl. It is amazing how good it feels to get paid for doing something again! The other night Kyle and I were discussing the car and finances and I said, "Well, my babysitting money will help to pay for some of the car." We both paused and looked at each other and then realized that although I am 27 years old, I am still talking about earning babysitting money and getting a new car on my birthday!

As if I wasn't outed enough already

Tonight Kyle and I decided to try our luck again at spinning. I had even bought a plain exercise shirt to try to help blend in more. (All of my other t-shirts had English writing on them.) Although we had the same teacher (who probably recognized the American idiots in the back) Kyle was smart enough to not raise his hand this time. We were in the third row and really plugging along just fine -- until there were 5 minutes left in class. Kyle was really pedaling fast and hard and his foot slipped out of the pedal. His shin happened to intersect with the free pedal as it made its way around and he got a four-inch gash on his right shin. Blood was immediately flowing and there was even a small piece of skin flopping around. It was horrible.

The teacher asked what was wrong as Kyle got off his bike, but he just waved her off as he hobbled out the door. I got off my bike and tried to quickly sanitize our bikes before I left. (Suprisingly for Europeans, they are really into spraying/wiping down your area once you are done.) Well I wasn't quick enough because apparently the instructor was asking me to come to the front of the room. Of course I don't understand a word she says and so I didn't even realize what she was asking. It wasn't until she said, "Yoo-hoo" over the microphone that I looked up. And there she was motioning me to the front of the room -- my worst nightmare. So I had to make my way through two rows of sweaty bikers and stand at the front with her to explain what had happened. I felt like I was back in Catholic school in front of the nuns all over again. I explained in English what had happened to Kyle and her first response was, "But you do understand some French?" I don't know what that had to do with anything, but I lied and said that I understood some. I didn't want to tell the truth and say, "Actually, I might as well be deaf because I just spent the last hour in your class watching your hand movements to understand whether we were supposed to be going up a hill or down." I guess I satisfied her enough by saying I understood a little French because she asked more about Kyle and then dismissed me. Poor Kyle hobbled the four blocks home, and then up another four flights of stairs. Needless to say, we won't be doing another spinning class anytime soon...

Flower Carpet

This weekend Kyle and I went to the Flower Carpet in the Grand Place. Because the carpet uses so many begonias, there is only enough of a supply of them to do this every two years. They actually pull the petals off all the begonias and then lay the petals down to make the carpet. Today I went back down there with Kelly and her kids and Julie Anne, her husband Pieter and their kids. Click here to see the pictures from both trips.

Happy Birthday to My Mom!!!

I have learned many, many things while in Belgium, but I think one of the things that has hit me the most is realizing the love of a mother. Since almost every one of my friends here has kids, I have gotten to see this first hand many times over. I am constantly amazed at the sacrifices mothers make for their children -- the number of times they endure yet another sleepless night, sacrifice their own lunch for their picky-eater child, wipe a bottom, lug a child's coat and backpack, wipe a runny nose, are a shoulder to cry on, and are the comforting arms that all children run to.

I am sure I will not truly understand the love of a mother until I am one myself, but even though I don't say it often, I think of my own mom every single day that I see one of my friends make these sacrifices and I say a silent 'Thank You' for all that she has done.

I've been outed

Well I am officially out of the closet and I am not happy about it. It is all Kyle's fault. On Friday we decided to attempt our first spinning class together. I had already taken one spinning class and had to leave after 40 minutes because I thought I might never be able to walk again. But I was willing to give it another try. I have taken aerobics classes in French and although I have no clue what is going on 70% of the time, at least I can watch the teacher's movements and follow along. The problem with spinning is that a big part of it is just turning up and down the resistance knob. The flick of a wrist at the front of the class is a little bit harder to follow. Luckily the first time I was there, the instructor tilted her arm as she was talking so I at least knew if we were supposed to be going up or down a hill.

Kyle and I were the last two people in the room on Friday and all of the bikes were taken except for two in the very front, right next to the teacher. Between the last two bikes was a flamboyant gay guy that is in almost every single class I take. So the teacher comes in and asks if this is anyone's first time in the class. I thought I knew my husband well, but I obviously don't. Of course you don't raise your hand when they ask if anyone is new because then you are singled out the rest of the time. If anything, you try to look like you own the place and that you will never need any help whatsoever. At least that is my theory.

Well Kyle's hand shoots up and I could have just about killed him. There were a few other people who raised their hands so the teacher started explaining how to set up the seat etc. Just as we got started peddaling, she turns to Kyle and says something. (She is speaking into a microphone, so everyone can hear it.) Kyle just kind of mumbles "Oui" and then she says something else to him. Finally she says in English, "You don't speak French do you?" Well a few people in the class started giggling and I wanted to melt into the floor. Here I had gone for 6 months of working out and faking it, or at least being silent enough that no one knew I only spoke English and Kyle had just ruined it for me. I was sure the gay guy would tell his friends in all our other classes that I am a poseur. I might just have to never show my face at the gym again :)

Party Foul x 2

Kyle and I had two other couples over this past Saturday night. While Kyle was opening the door for the second couple, I was getting champagne glasses out for the first couple. Within 60 seconds, I knocked one of the glasses against the door frame (because, of course, I was talking with my hands) and one of the beers the other couple had brought exploded in Kyle's hands. There was glass around each of us and Kyle was soaked in beer. The worst part was that the bottle cut his thumb open pretty badly. Not quite the way to start a party, but luckily these were all good friends. It was really bad the next morning though because we kept finding glass shards all over the kitchen and since they were covered in beer, they couldn't just be swept up easily because they were so sticky. Ugh.

After the glass episode, we ordered take out Chinese, and the guys watched the Rose Bowl (recorded in January) in order to pacify their football craving until they can watch live football games in just a few weeks time. It was funny to hear the boys talk about football, recruiting, and scores for three hours. During that same time, the two other wives and I discussed whether to work part time or stay at home once you have kids, the housing prices in the States, financial habits of couples, our own unique family interactions and so many other wild topics. Kyle teasingly asked me why girls can't just talk about no-brainer stuff like football. I agree with him that it is a good question, but unfortunately I don't know the answer. As much as I enjoyed our female conversation, it would be nice to sometimes just talk things of no consequence.

Sunday our friends Kate and Ryan had us over for a BBQ on their sunny terrace. Kate is an incredible cook and we left their place completely stuffed. She made a dry rub to cover the short ribs and then baked them for three hours. Once we arrived she put them on the grill with her own homemade BBQ sauce. The meat just fell off the bone and melted in your mouth. She was worried about making potato salad for us Southerners (she is from Connecticut) so she opted for French potato salad instead (made with Dijon mustard). It was as good as any I have ever had! We had watermelon and brownies for dessert and I was in hog heaven all day!

So bad it's good

Although we have Slingbox which is great, our Belgian TV doesn't have too many English channels. (There are 4 to be exact and two of them are news channels.) So I rent U.S. TV series on DVDs at the Women's Club. In the year and a half we have been here, I have watched the first season of 24, Lost, Law & Order, Desperate Housewives, Gray's Anatomy, and Monk. Since I have basically seen most of the shows the Club has, I have had to resort to scraping the barrel and watching The O.C. The script and acting are so horrible that I can usually only watch about 20 minutes at a time because it just pains me. And yet I can't stop. Every Wednesday I go back and rent the next disc and subject myself to even more ridiculous teen angst. To save youself from wasting time, I'll just tell you what every episode entails:
--About 8 times an episode someone will ask Ryan a question and he just stares at them out of the corners of his eyes.
--The neighborhood always has a big party and Ryan gets in a fight with someone, which ruins the party.
--Ryan and Marissa get in a fight over nothing and then always make up in the end.

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Today at the Club I picked up a magazine from our swap area. Although the cover had been ripped off, I could tell it was a People which always makes me happy. What a find! Then I started reading. "Beardless for the first time in 15 months. Tom Cruise comes clean after finishing filming for The Last Samurai."

I think to myself, "Hmm, I thought that movie was already out. And I haven't really noticed him having a beard. Oh well, I guess I am just out of it."

Next I read about Trista and Ryan from The Bachelor having a wedding shower. I think, "Wait, aren't they already married? Are they renewing their vows?" It is then that I look at the date. Yes, I was reading a magazine from September 22, 2003. News that is almost three years old!
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We are just kind of, barely, maybe thinking about buying a car over here. In our search, we came across a Corolla for sale at a good price. The funniest thing is that our main concern with that car is that it would be too big for us. As crazy as that might sound, you have to do a lot of parallel parking and going down narrow streets here, and a "big" car would really restrict you. The most common size cars are little two doors. I find it commical that in the States I drove a Camry because I thought a Corolla was too small, and now it seems too big. Imagine a Tahoe around here.

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I swore to myself that if the heat ever let up here, I would never complain about the cold again. I have been put to the test because for the last week, the weather has been overcast and 60. However, with my memories of the 95 degree heat being so fresh, I am actually really enjoying wearing pants and long sleeves each day.

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Pick up a copy of tomorrow (Friday's) U.S. Wall Street Journal to read Kyle's article about the Mises Institute in Auburn, AL. This one even has his name on it!

Hola from Barcelona

It has taken me awhile to get these together, but here are our pictures from the two days we spent in Barcelona with Amy and Trey. The main things we saw were lots of Gaudi buildings and the Sagrada Familia. Click on the links if you want to learn a little bit more about them.

Posted by a proud wife

I am always impressed by and proud of Kyle, but I also know I am a little biased. The last time we were in the States, he traveled to Auburn, Alabama, to write a story about the Mises Institute. Today, that article was published in The Wall Street Journal Europe. Of course I am proud of the article, but I am even more proud of the comments it elicited. Click here to read the article and see below for the comments.

Comments:
Who's better than Mr. Wingfield?
Making his biases known early and balancing them with sound fact, he makes his recommendation (argument) all the more accessable and, thereby, believable.
Cheers for him, and the topic he well illuminates.
Posted by: M E Hoffer at August 4, 2006 8:34 AM

He is a really nice fellow. Having dealt with reporters for years, the overwhelming characteristic they have in common is incredible ignorance, and that is combined with an amazing arrogance. Most of these people are just fakes. They understand very little about the topics they supposedly cover, and they secretly know this. Their biggest fear is being found out.
But it was really obvious to me when he first called that Mr. Wingfield was different. He is knowledgeable and honest. These are very rare traits in journalism, especially among journalists at his level. So it was a pleasure to visit with him and show him around.
Posted by: jeffrey at August 4, 2006 8:45 AM

How rare for a journalist to use "sensible economic thinking" as anything other than a slight in contrast to what they see of the Austrian school, much less as a description.
A rare gentleman indeed. Maybe there is hope for the world.
Posted by: Curt Howland at August 4, 2006 1:06 PM

Cool Sites

I have come across some interesting websites recently and wanted to share:

The first one is www.pandora.com It is a free site where you pick out the type of music you like and then they try to find other music that has those same qualities. You can note whether you like the new choices or not and they adjust the songs accordingly.

Thanks to Aunt Beth, I found the Birthday Calculator. You put in your birth date and it gives you lots of interesting facts (one of which is when you were conceived -- ugh) htttp://www.paulsadowski.org/BirthDay.asp

This woman takes pictures and shares the recipes of what she makes for her child everyday, but she is a taking a break for the summer, so you will just have to read past entries for awhile. I can't believe how creative she is! http://www.veganlunchbox.blogspot.com/

Gouda you doin' ?

Ok, that might be the cheeziest title yet, but since this is blog all about cheese, I figured it would work. Today Kate, Christina and I took a road trip to Gouda, Holland. Up there, they pronounce the city how-da. Click here to check out my pictures and learn a little bit more about the city.

Just call me On

Yesterday evening I realized I needed to make a dinner reservation for tonight. I was really tired, so I handed the phone to Kyle and asked him to make it. He asked me why I didn't want to do it, but then proceeded to make the call. This is what I heard Kyle say (the spaces are him saying things slowly):

Bonjour, parlez vous anglais? Oh, thank you. I would like to make a reservation for tomorrow night. Yes, to-mor-row. Four people. Yes, f o u r. At eight o'clock, e i g h t o' c l o c k. My name is Kyle. K y l e. No, Ky-le. K Y L E. Yes, Kyle.

And he wondered why I didn't want to have to make the call. I have a feeling the reservation will probably look like it is for Kilyie. Thank goodness they didn't want his last name too! Because only 11 out of 26 letters sound the same in both French and English it is always hard to spell something. A few of the letters that happen to be in our names cause some real confusion-- e sounds like a, i sounds like e, g sounds like j, and y we just have no chance with. I think I might legally change my name to On All because at least both the English and French spell that the same way.