The heat has been intense, these last few days. The kids have this strange bumpy heat rash thingy on their fingers and toes. I'm just coasting, as far as school is concerned. Whatever we don't get done before the hot part of the day just doesn't get done. Its a good thing that we are ahead. School here is out at 1:00 or 1:30 in the afternoon. I begin to see why. Brains shut down from 2:00 to 3:00.
Leafy inexplicably calls geckos "penguins." "I saw penguin on the wall!" he shouts happily.
Leafy poured a bottle of vanilla (fake) and soy sauce (real) onto the counter today. Yesterday he squeezed half of the tube of toothpaste into the sink. I've explained to him about the global economy, but I think he's intent on sabotage.
The other day Chinua broke down on the scooter. A man (who happened to be a mechanic) stopped, picked him up, brought his keys to him, and then stayed up all night to fix the scooter because he was leaving for out of town the next day. In the morning he brought the scooter to us and charged us about $35. An unbelievably kind thing to do.
In other news, the used refrigerator salesman really did try to convince Cate and Renee that the fridge he sold and delivered to them was working, even though it, well, WASN'T. What, they broke it within half a minute?
I am so ready to move. I am ready to have my own house, my own kitchen, my own routines. I am ready to not have a live in housekeeper. I am ready to feel more free, to not worry so much about my kids making a mess because I can hear her sigh and see her look over at me with frustration even if I'm cleaning it up. I am ready to not have her snapping at Kid A.
I love Jaya. And for the season around the birth it was perfect to have her here. Maybe it is just a sign that it is the right time to move on- the fact that I'm dying to do things my way and I'm so glad when she takes a day off and we have the house to ourselves and I can wash my dishes and do my laundry and it's mine ALL MINE!
I'm a freak. A control freak. I've come to think that you have to be, to be a mom.
I need some mental health leave. Halfway through the day I realized that I was having angry conversations with various people in my head. This is never a good sign. Not only is it a waste of energy, it's also a little, you know... nutso.
Today we went to the birthing center for a little group baby check up and Solo was the youngest and largest baby there. He's a whopping 13 pounds and 4 ounces. 6 kg. The giant baby.
Although it may be understood throughout most of the United States and Canada that it is not the nicest thing to walk up to someone and call their baby "whitey," it doesn't seem to be a global understanding. Or at least not with one certain man from a country in Europe. This is one of the startling things about living internationally.
Yesterday we were invited over to the house of some new friends to celebrate her birthday. The Mama kissed me and the little girl told me things in Italian and the Dad gave us all the cake he had magicked up in his small oven.
Kid A wanted me to lie down with him to help him go to sleep tonight. He was afraid of beetles dropping on his bed. Personally, I'd be more afraid of cockroaches or centipedes, but to each his own (fear). I tried reasoning with him, asking him what he thought would happen if a beetle did fall on his bed. I mean- it would just run away, right?
But that didn't work, so I lay beside him and stroked his hair and hummed for a while, and then he turned to me and said sweetly, "There IS a one-legged animal." And by this I knew that he was feeling better.
And I turned over and whispered into the sky, out to that moon, whispered to that Great Papa out there that I'm a little afraid sometimes too, of bugs and the economy and being displaced and angry people and not pleasing people, even the woman who works for me, and would He please sit next to me to help me sleep? And He didn't even try to reason with me. He just lay next to me and stroked my hair.