Watching the new National Stadium go up in San José, had finally gotten interesting. The old, crumbling stadium was torn down, which left a big pit of dirt. Bit by bit, an arc has appeared out of the sky.

A rendering of what the park will look like can be seen at this link. I must say, it’s going to be quite the place for Costa Rica. Of course building an event center that is estimated to hold about 35,000 people is presenting some problems. Parking is the first that comes to mind. There’s barely enough room now in this area to put the cars that bring families, soccer players, and those who are out to enjoy the park on a Saturday. And a Shakira concert? One article I read said there’s only about 400 spaces available now.

The Chinese government is funding the project. As Addison and I walked by the construction, gaggles of men stood upon scaffolding. And then, a huge shout began and it echoed throughout the site. We looked up and saw a group of Costa Rican workers in the back of a rickety old truck, yelling to the Chinese workers. They yelled back - a cultural exchange that surpassed the language barriers.

A cool breeze. Some days we just wait for a cool breeze to swing by and pass for a moment of relief. Then, perhaps, the rest of the day will be more bearable.

The poorest of neighbors suffer from lack of water, paved roads, and enough telephone lines, and trash pick up, yet they also lack trees. As we sweat and toil in our condos and homes I can’t help but think of those tin houses baking in the afternoon sun all throughout Costa Rica.

Planting a tree to save the planet is a noble idea, but maybe we can move it in - more close and personal - and think how planting a tree for another will help make the afternoon a little easier to bear.

MotherJungle was just included in the “What the World Eats” project. A photo from MotherJungle appears with a table full of the food we typically eat in one week.

It is interesting, challenging, and fun thing to do with the family. When our organic produce arrived for the week, we some how managed to get most of it on the table without breaking anything.

Today, I’d have to say we still eat most of what’s in view. I admittedly got into the habit of a few-too-many sugary snacks and indulged in potato chips for awhile after this photo. But I am thrilled to say I got back on track to better health, and if I surmise what’s in view, today we can easily add a quarter more vegetables. I’ve dug out my dehydrator and love making “veggie” chips for the kids. Though I still haven’t gotten my daughter to down the avocado/alfalfa smoothies I’ve taken a liking too….I’m working on her. Addison, on the other hand, loves guacamole.

For a good honest look at what we eat - and spend - try writing down every thing the family eats for a week. The “What the World Eats” inventory challenge list may surprise you and, hopefully, enlighten you.

Although I only stopped in for a pair of shoes, but I considered buying this. Then, every time my son knocks over the flower vase with stale water or my daughter whines about her homework or the money runs out of the checking account when I thought I had enough….I can remember him.

He must have had a really, really, really bad day.

What makes us realize we’re going in the wrong direction? The amount of choices we have to make in one day can be crippling if we think about it too long.

I watched this sister walk up the street and back again. She must have decided she was going the wrong way. Where ever she was headed, she turned around and went back again.

With kids, I wonder about each thing I feed them, each activity I enroll them in, each medicine I pour down their throats, and each word I choose. It’s a daunting task to know which job to take and which chicken combo dinner to pick at the fried pollo shack.

The only thing that’s made me sane is perhaps realizing whatever the choice I do make, I have to know, I can go back - sort of - and at least try it again a second time or the next time. Maybe then all will be right and the compass will always be pointed towards the right path.

Coming to terms with Barney has been a long road, a journey of acceptance. He’s easy to single-out, pick-on, and laugh at. Just his color gets parents going. The room is often split: There are those that will cry out that the program is too simple - we should be challenging kids; there are others that have a pile of Barney stuffed animals, books, videos, and many more trinkets in their kid’s room.

Addison loves Barney. He dances to the purple sensation and repeats all the songs. In fact, Barney was one of his first, super-clear words. How can I get mad at IT now? In Costa Rica, these figures on television are adored from Barney to Mickey to Pooh. The money is not, and cannot, be spent on all the commercial products like in other countries, but a cheap backpack is never far from reach.

As my two children get older, I do things that the “pre-mother” person would have been amazed at. Surely I would sided with the “corporate greed taking over our kids’ minds” and “isn’t is talking down to kids?” argument. A few years later, I cannot say I love Barney - fond of perhaps - but I can sing all the songs (in English and Spanish!). And I even must admit I’ve danced to the purple dinosaur more than once.

We tip-toed through the thick of trees for the elusive birds of paradise. I strained my head up-wards and could hear them but saw nothing. Then, from a swaying branch we saw one! Quickly it disappeared back into the dense green foliage.

Mom! I’m stepping in bird poo,” said Coco as she tip-toed through the spotted, white grass. “What are they doing up there?” All around Costa Rica, around 4 o’clock in the afternoon, parrots gathering in trees and squawk. And squawk. No matter how hard we looked, we couldn’t see any of the green parrots in the green trees.

“I’ve seen this a lot honey,” I said as I grabbed her hand so we could find our car in the parking lot. “I think they’re just getting together to chat.”

“What are they saying?” she asked.

In my best “parrot-imitation voice” I began talking about the things I think parrots would like to share at the end of a long day of foraging and being a bird: Where the best food spots were; perhaps one knows another parrot that would be a good date; cool spots to hang in the hot afternoon…..

Coco leaned back in her booster seat in the car and looked through the window. “They really say that?”

“Listen,” I said. ” I think the birds know it all. Who else would talk that much other than a know-it-all?!”

Without humor, I’d wouldn’t make it. Everything takes three times longer (or more) to complete, if at all; we have to learn a new language all our own; without warning, things whip across the room; and most likely at any time of the day, one can easily find some sort of food matter in my hair or hanging from one of my appendages.

I heard one mother say that if one more person told her she was lucky to have an autistic son, she’d blow her top. The day-in and day-out physical and emotional challenges are a lot. It’s not a pretty television commercial, this “special needs” thing. I mean, how many special needs kids do we see on peanut butter commercials happily spreading the stuff on a perfectly white piece of bread?

In a special needs world, most likely, the peanut butter would have ended up on my arm; the bread ripped up to pieces and thrown across the kitchen; and the spoon in some one’s hair. A sense of humor is not a nice extra to get through the tough times - like the dinner hour - it’s an absolute requirement when getting just one task finished can seem to plop me in a hole where, without a good laugh, I’d think this was all too unfair. Spending more than 1/2 a minute wondering why it seems so unfair is not in the special needs handbook. There just is no time, for the child will gaze up at us and again, ask for help, usually in a way we’d never even imagined, and send me roaring into laughter as I watch it all spin by.

Laura Chinchilla won more than the required 40 percent of votes to land the title as first woman president of Costa Rica. The contenders didn’t seem to even come close, gaining at the time of poll closing, only in the 20 percentile for their parties. It’s being called a landslide. Her platform she says is “security, security, and security.”

She breaks the ceiling and now enters the highest political step for women. And soon, we won’t even have to mention she’s a woman at all. It will be her record that will refer to instead of her gender.

Today, Costa Rica gets out and votes for a new president. And in this small democracy, Costa Rica has a voting record to be proud of. Perhaps the fact that it is on a Sunday helps, so people don’t have to wrestle with work schedules.

A tradition every voting season - and soccer season - is to somehow attach a flag to the car and wave it proudly. I can offer no opinion on who’s going to win, but I happened to see a few more green and white flags than the others. The next tradition is to go to some one’s house for lunch and watch the the media tally up their best guess.

The choices this year range from a woman candidate to a libertarian candidate. In the morning, all will be said and done and the real vote-counting will begin to see who’s going to be Costa Rica’s president for another four years.