Changing My Mind

I thought that going with a local "turkey" (African Guinea fowl) would be ok. It was I suppose, but it also wasn't. It tastes rather gamey. Perhaps I've never had wild turkey before so it could taste like a real turkey tastes, but it doesn't taste like what I've always had on Thanksgiving. Our guests liked it, or at least said so, but I don't see any leftovers making their way to the sandwich plate. Gusi didn't eat any and stuck with the cranberry sauce instead. The baby was well behaved and all in all it went well.

Many thanks to Sara for stopping by and bringing the cranberries and pumpkin pie filling.

What's This?

Last night we were so exhausted. We've had a busy weekend. Usually we lolly-gag around the house all weekend and maybe get out for one outing, but this weekend was different.

On Saturday we went to the flea market at the American Club. When I say we went, I mean that we went as vendors, so we had to be there early. I managed to make about $100 off of our stuff, but it wasn't the money that was important--getting rid of the clutter, that was important. I didn't take much yet I managed to sell or trade all but two things. Gusi was extremely patient and the baby had one of the dirtiest diapers we've seen in a long time, but we managed. Actually, we also picked up our Thanksgiving turkey there. We had ordered a "local turkey" which it seems is actually an African Guinea fowl. Or something like that. I hope it doesn't disappoint.

The flea market was a full morning, so when we got home and thought about turning right around to go to a birthday party that Gusi was invited to, I just had to say no. Later that night Papi and I went to a fundraising event with dinner and music and had a nice time, so I'm glad we skipped the birthday and were able to relax before the fundraiser.

Of course, after a late night out, what happens? The kids wake up extra early. Ugh. Sunday we went back to the American Club, but this time to use the playground and hope that Gusi and the baby would tire themselves out. Gusi decided that he wanted to jump in the baby pool and then convinced his father to go with him in the big pool. The baby was busy taking everything in so he was tired when we got home too. Later that afternoon a French friend stopped by to see the baby and her daughter managed to make mischief with Gusi while the adults chatted.

So, last night Papi and I got the kids down for the night, had a bit of dinner and managed to get our tired bones to the living room where we each fell asleep on the couches until 1am. Papi woke me up, we brushed our teeth and made our way to our bed, only to be awoken at 4:40am by the baby. I nursed him, then he needed to be burped and have his diaper changed and he wanted to be nursed again. After that second nursing as I started to doze, the baby was lying next to me laughing in his sleep with the occasional coo or gurgle. I'm not sure what really happened, if I was entirely awake or what, but I swear I heard the baby clearly say "what's this?" and then go to sleep. I did a double take and shook Papi. "Did you hear what the baby just said?" I asked. "Sure, " he answered and went back to sleep.

I remember doubting if I really heard what I heard. Still, this morning I'm not sure what to believe. Sleep deprivation is a cruel thing.

First Term's Over

Gusi's first term is over as of today. I got his first report card of sorts. It's actually a letter from his teacher stating all the things they covered this term (numbers 1 through 5, basic shapes, fine motor skills, etc) and an overview of how he's doing.

He apparently is following directions, he focuses well and listens attentatively at story time, he does well in tidying up the toys, he's sociable, he loves constructional toys and is able to complete puzzles advanced for his age.

His teacher also included a small book made from his art projects and photographs taken of him at school with his play mates.

I'm so impressed with Gusi and how far he has come in the month and a half that we've been here. I'm also impressed by his teacher and all that she's doing to keep us informed about Gusi's progress. My mom kept all of my report cards, and now that I hold Gusi's with pride I understand why.

Just a Matter of Time

I knew this day would come. I just didn't see it creeping up on me, but it's finally here. My boys have reached a milestone each.

The baby is just about to roll over. Ok, big deal, some might say, but it is. It is the first step down his road to independence. First he will roll, then scoot (actually he already does a lot of scooting on his back when in the crib, so much so that I've been calling him Scooter each morning when he wakes up two feet from where I left him the night before), then crawl, then cruise, then walk, then run, then jump, then climb and then I don't know what since Gusi is at the climbing stage and I'm not sure what's next. In any case, it's the baby's first step towards independence. I've got mixed emotions. The baby stage seems to be a lot shorter this time around, probably because I've got to keep an eye on each kid. I'm glad he's making strides though.

Gusi is now asking why. Why Mami? He never really understood the why or how of things, so he didn't ask. He just accepted things as they were, but now he wants more depth in his life I suppose. This has been happening for a few days now, this constant need to ask why.

Today was difficult though. We went to buy groceries, just the two of us. When we entered the supermarket he asked why didn't I want to get a big shopping cart (because then I can't keep tabs on you and your little shopping cart). When we went to the butcher, he asked why didn't I like the turkey hot dogs (the ones over here taste gross to me, the frankfurters are better). And when we went to the little fruit kiosk guy where I buy my fruit from he had me stumped. We didn't get out since the fruit guy saw our car and ran over to take my order (drive up fruit stand comes in handy with kids in the car). As soon as my window went down a crowd of people came over. Some wanted to sell me sunglasses, others prepaid calling cards, others plastic hangers, but most were begging for money. Actually, one woman asked for a cadeau (present) from me. I told them all no, gave the fruit guy my order and rolled the window back up while we waited. The people mostly dispersed except for the cadeau lady. She picked up a little girl, probably her daughter who looked about Gusi's age, and smacked her right across the face, then swung at her again. Gusi and I both saw it. I knew what was coming next. Why did she hit the little girl Mami? What could I say? I wanted to cry and scream. Cry because I had hoped my son would never see something like that; scream at the damn woman who was beating her child in front of me and my son. I answered that I didn't know why she hit the little girl, but that it wasn't right, no one should hit anyone. The only thing I could think of was to make the story have a moral. What else could I do?

Clone Me

I need to be with two boys at the same time. The baby needs me for obvious reasons: I've got milk. But he also needs his mama to hold and cuddle him--to provide that warmth and security that all babies need. Gusi needs me for other emotional reasons. He needs to feel that he isn't being displaced by his baby brother, that there's enough love for everyone, that I have time to play trains with him, read to him, bathe him, and teach him how to put on his clothes. He needs to feel that warmth and security from me too.

So, where does this leave me? With three gray hairs viciously plucked from my head in the last two days. I think it's one hair for the baby, one for Gusi and one for Papi. Yes, Papi, because I don't have much time for him, and with potty training, a new baby, waking up at awful hours of the morning, we just don't have much time for each other. I am expecting at least one more gray hair--for me. I think this will be the longest, thickest one. It will probably grow out of my leg.

Presents

Today is my birthday. It's not such a big deal after you hit 25 I realize. So, since I'm a bit this side of 25, I'm not doing anything big. What did I do for myself to celebrate you might ask? I took 7 minutes to shave a leg and a half this morning. Yep. Even though Papi was a few minutes late leaving for his business trip this morning, he was kind enough to let me have a moment to myself. Ahh, 7 entire minutes to myself--and I was even able to squeeze in a shower!

Leg Man

For the last two days in a row Gusi hasn't needed a nap at his usual nap time (though he does get completely exhausted right around dinner). Today, after arguing with him for a while I realized that he just wasn't sleepy. I tried telling him it was quiet time, but that only worked for about 15 minutes. He wanted out. So, we agreed that he'd bring two cupcakes over to his friend's house (she's lives right down the road from us) to share. These were special cupcakes since they were made in moulds to look like a train and a butterfly.

We sat on the floor and he sat in my lap so I could put his shoes on; this is what ensued.

Gusi: Mami, what's that?
Me: What's what?
Gusi: I don't like it. What's that?
Me: What's what? What are you talking about?
Gusi gets up from my lap, turns around and rubs my legs.
Gusi: That Mami, what's that?
Me: They're the hairs on my legs sweetie. Sometimes women shave their legs and then the hair grows back.
Gusi: I don't like that Mami. I don't like it. My legs don't have any hairs on them.
Gusi reaches out to touch my legs and pretends to shiver.
Me: Ok, I'll shave if you and your brother give me some time. I'd love to not have the stubble either.

So I wonder why isn't Gusi as offended by his father's five o'clock shadow as he is by my unshaven legs?

Jinx

Ok, so he had an accident each day for three days in a row. He's not perfect and I'm obviously getting carried away with the success stories. He'll get this potty thing down when he's ready. At least he's doing a lot better than before. Actually, he's doing a lot better than one of his classmates who is almost four years old and still in diapers. Heaven help me if that happens to me!

Potty All the Time

Gusi's got it. With a bit of fear of jinxing myself, it seems that Gusi has got the potty thing down now. It was a grueling process with Papi and I at eachother's throats and at Gusi's when we were in the thick of it, but now, we are so happy we went through it.

We spent about two weekends in a row doing potty training boot camp. I felt like a zoo keeper, shoveling poop, taming the wild animals and hearing the constant shrieks and screams. Yet now, Gusi only wants to use his "big boy" underwear, tells us when he has to go, and makes his own way to the bathroom to use the toilet. He still needs some help with his clothes (though not always) and cleaning up afterwards, but he does it all by himself for the most part. He was peeing sitting down at the beginning but now he really only wants to do it standing up "like the big boys". The only problem is that he wants to wear underwear at nap time (yes, he's napping during the week since school tires him out) and bed time. He'll accept a diaper at night but not for his nap, so we often see him wake up with "an accident", but I'm sure he'll either get rid of his nap altogether or he'll learn how to hold it while he sleeps.

For now, I'm just changing one set of diapers. I'll take what I can get. Kudos to Gusi!

Words for My Sons

My Dearest Sons,

Last night as you slept, your father and I watched our country make history. Far away from our country we hope and pray for your future and we do everything on our part to ensure that it is bright, safe and rewarding. So to be able to tell you both this morning that we have a new President-elect who inspires many to believe that all things are possible and is proof of just that fills our hearts.

It is the micro and the macro together that I as a parent cope with each and every day. I worry about the mice running around the house and the current economic crisis; I hope you learn your letters and numbers with ease and I hope you make a difference in the world through the work you do; I want to be a daily role model for you and surround you with many others who will influence your morals and ideals. I want the best for you.

Think of all that inspires you, keep it close to your heart and let it always guide you. It is all within your reach if you remain true to yourself.

All my love,

Mami

My Friend the Water Heater

The baby...I don't talk solely about him very much, do I? I suppose I should start blogging more about him. Frankly, he's a great baby, an excellent sleeper and quite alert to things going on around him. But since he is a baby, we have him in a funky little room right off of our room.

On a slight tangent I need to talk about African architecture. It never ceases to amaze me how bizarre some African buildings are. In our home, which Papi jokingly refers to as "the house with no right angles", there is the master bedroom which leads into a smaller room and then into the master bathroom. The only way I know it's the master bathroom is because it has a bidet, otherwise it's almost like Gusi's bathroom. Anyway, that smaller room between our room and the bathroom is where the baby is. Is it a changing room? A walk-in closet? A storage room? I'm not sure what it was intended for since it has no closets, no rods or poles to hang things on. It only has a water heater in the top corner of the room. That's it. Yet, it's big enough to put a crib, a changing table, a dresser, a diaper pail and a laundry hamper and still leave enough squeeze-through room, so I'm not sure what the purpose of the room was originally.

In any case, the water heater is more or less above the changing table for the baby and since he is really into cooing now, he coos and chats with the water heater. He is fascinated by it. He looks up and back each time I change his diaper to make sure it's still there. Then he starts cooing, kicking his feet wildly and making other cute little baby sounds. I don't get it? But he thinks it's grand, so we'll go with that.

James the Train that Didn't

Gusi had a costume all set out for him before we got back to Dakar. He was going to be a park ranger. He has the vest, the hat, even the velcro wallet so all I needed was to throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt--easy, done. However, Gusi decided that he was going to be James the train from the Thomas the Tank Engine series. For those of you who don't know James, he is no. 5 and is red. Gusi likes James quite a bit.

So, his father, my dear husband, decides his little boy is going to have his wish and sets out to make him a James costume. He got several cardboard boxes together and started cutting, stapling, gluing, painting and shaping it all into what we will call James the Great because it was just that great.

On Halloween at Gusi's school most of the kids got dressed up. I took him and his James costume. He refused to put it on but he didn't want me taking it home either, so it sat on a shelf for the entire school day. Later at our embassy trick-or-treating event, he again refused to wear his costume. Luckily I had dressed him in overalls and a train conductor's hat, so he looked like a conductor without his train--oh well. After hitting a couple of houses we made our way to the party and Gusi had a blast. It was a good time after all was said and done. Next year I just have to remember that he will have to pick out his own costume so we don't go through all of this again.