We moved from our little house to the Bella Rosa, which feels more like a hotel, and our room is on the third floor. Most of our things are already on the boat, but somehow, we still lug around a lot of things.
As we unpacked and carried things into the little apartment, Leif decided he wanted to help. He would walk all the way down the stairs, find something to carry, and proudly haul it all the way back up. Then he had his own little epiphany: he wanted to try the elevator by himself.
Once he rode it, it unlocked a whole new level of confidence.
“I can ride the elevator by myself. I can press the right button. I can get to the floor I want.”
He happily went downstairs, collected the items we had left below, and brought them upstairs using the elevator.
After dinner and our bike ride. The boys stayed on the beach with Wade while I continued putting things away when I got a phone call.
“The elevator is stuck, and we’re inside.”
I immediately ran to the third-floor elevator doors, where I could hear them inside. It sounded like the doors wanted to open but couldn’t. I pressed the button repeatedly, but nothing happened, so I ran downstairs to the front desk.
The staff responded quickly. They called someone immediately, opened the electrical panel, and kept everyone informed during the process. They warned Wade before shutting off the power so he could turn on the flashlight on his phone, leaving the boys completely in the dark.
No one panicked, but my mind immediately shifted into survival mode.
The chances of an elevator falling are incredibly slim, but as the employees pushed buttons and reset switches, my brain couldn’t help but wonder: What is the safest position if an elevator falls while you’re holding two children?
Sitting, apparently.
Thankfully, the elevator slowly restarted and returned gently to the first floor. The doors opened, and I hugged and kissed my family. The boys seemed mostly unfazed, though they told the story over and over afterward, probably their own way of processing it.
The next morning, we headed out, and Leif immediately started toward the stairs. Wade smiled and said, “Let’s see if the elevator is fixed.”
There were no signs it was broken or under repair, so we all climbed aboard together. You could sense Leif’s hesitation.
We told him that if he was ever alone in an elevator and it became stuck, he could push the alarm bell as many times as he wanted if he felt scared.
The doors on the first floor opened, and everyone relaxed.
I love watching our boys develop.
Leif recently found a tiny ice tray perfectly sized for children and decided he wanted to make ice himself. First obstacle: reaching the sink. We aren’t in our own house with kitchen towers and stools, so he problem-solved. He dragged a chair to the sink, filled the tray with water, left it on the counter, returned the chair, opened the little freezer door, and carefully placed the tray inside.
Then he proudly announced, “Now we wait.”
The excitement on his face the next morning when he discovered actual ice cubes was priceless. He made everyone ice water.
Ori is like a little sponge to Leif. He has become a tiny mini version of Leif at times, mirroring him and following him everywhere. It’s actually so cool to watch because Ori gets to experience so much more, so much earlier, simply by always being engaged with another child. He watches, copies, experiments, and learns constantly just by tagging along behind his big brother.
I’ve found that when Leif is engaged in learning new things and becoming more independent, we have fewer meltdowns and tantrums. But Chapter 3 of Good Inside by Dr. Becky Kennedy has also become a bit of a mantra for me.
On busy days, it is harder, so we have to remember to schedule days to relax and take it really easy and slower.
We were supposed to have our first foreign mother’s helper come on Friday. Wade and I thought we might even watch from afar for a little date while they all play nearby. But sadly, they never showed. I’m sure there was a miscommunication.
A few weeks ago, we were at the park near the little house when a young girl named Ana and her sister, who only speak Montenegrin and Italian, approached me using Google Translate and asked, “Do you want to play hide and seek?”
We had so much fun.
Over time, we started seeing them often during our evening bike rides. One of Ana’s friends speaks English, so one night I asked if they would want to babysit.
I’m a little nervous because Ana doesn’t speak English, though her friend will be there too. But I’ve found it fascinating how easily Leif and Ori play with children, even when they don’t understand each other’s words.
It always seems to work out.
Children are so tuned in to facial expressions, tone, laughter, and body language that sometimes language hardly matters at all.
Updates on the boat maintenance and repair. They plan to paint on Monday. The entire boat is tented inside a sacffoled enclosure and being taped off. The electrical parts we brought from the United States to repair the Atlas transformer have been installed, but we don’t yet have an update on whether the repair was successful. Our new batteries have arrived to replace the old, expired batteries. We have found the possible hydraulic oil leak, and the repair seems simple. We identified that the heat exchanger may need a new gasket, but further investigation is needed.
We are still identifying fuel leaks on the generators and oil leaks on the main. Service the engines. Fresh water leak. Prop maintenance. We are replacing hatch gaskets. Waiting for the safety systems and fire suppression test to be performed. The keel shoe gasket needs repairing. Bottom paint. Then launch for a sea trial and see her perform.
All the while we still hope for an early June departure, haha.
Kind regards,
Sara
Picture: Third floor morning view from the Bela Rosa, Bijela, Montenegro.
