One is One-derful!

Who can believe it's been a year? Sure as heck not me. But it's true, Giddie turned one last month. I know, I'm a good mom. I'm only a month late.

He is officially into EVERYTHING. I tell you. He is a tornado. And not just any tornado, one who takes lessons from the King Tornado himself - Chach. This was a BRAND NEW, not kind of new, brand new box of Ziploc's. From America - ziploc's. He's a Turkey. Don't worry, I saved every last one.

And it's true. He's a walker. Anything he can get his hands on, he will push with all his might. He pushed the stroller all over the park on this particular night. He is now taking up to ten steps on his own. I swear, I am in trouble. Potty training and learning to walk - all within two weeks of a 27 hour plane flight across the world. Someone. Anyone. HELP ME!

Check out the guy behind Gid in the photo. You can see the sun is almost set, so prayer is very soon. See the tea pots? It cracks me up. They bring tea EVERYWHERE. And in their own pots! This was two men on this blanket, and the women and children were about 30 feet away on another blanket.

He is such a fun baby. This kids adore him. He gets more attention than you can imagine. He eats ALL THE TIME. I seriously can't figure out how he is so skinny. He eats non stop and screams like an eagle when he's not eating. He loves to growl and wrestle with the big kids. Chach thought it would be funny to stick his finger in Gid's mouth the other day, like in the famous youtube "Charlie bit my finger". (if you haven't seen it, google it - it's SO funny) Anyway, Chach tried it, Gid bit, Chach yelled "Charlie Bit My Finger!" then howled and cried because it hurt so bad. There were teeth marks. Serves him right, I say.

Anyway. We just love Gideon. He adds so much to our family. And while Ruby asks every single day for us to have another baby, "But this time, make it a girl!", we are glad we got a fourth boy. He complete's our family.

Sorry Roo. I'm out.

I love you Gideon Jacob. You weren't born in the wilderness like Lehi's Jacob, but you have led a life of adventure in this short little time on earth. Thank you for coming to our family, you're sure to never have a dull moment! *kiss*

You Make Me Feel Like Dancin'

Yep. Simon got his tunic back. And is he SOOOO glad? Of course. He got it taken away a long time ago for not being able to keep his room clean. But he has earned it back and right after school today it was into the tunic. (BTW, this is just a brown piece of fabric held on with a belt)


He now has an awesome Egyptian necklace the TBW brought back for him. You may have seen it already, I can't remember. But here his is! And his Egyptian princess, I can't remember what her name is, has a new dress too! Fatimah bought this for Roo recently. It's some national dress for holidays and what now. I love how she had to put on her abaya under the green dress. Which are all on top of her regular clothes. Too funny. She loves the dress, and who wouldn't? It's sheer and flowy and sparklie and has gold on it? Perfect for her.

The Pool-la-la!

WAITING!!!! To go to the pool! Let's GOOOOO!

Here's the youngest two after a nice dip in the pool. Chach was pooped. He had to lay down for a while. I know, being three is tiring. But Chach, try being the mother of a three year old! Then you'll know tiring!

The best part about taking a camera to the pool? I don't have to be in any pictures.

Our pool. It is certainly one of the perks to living here.

This is Simon. He's from India. I said to my Simon, "Look at momma, please." Guess who turned around? He's very nice and funny. Then I said to him, "Look at momma" - and took HIS picture.

Sam showin' off his master deep end swimming skills. He LOVES the water. He earned his swim badge a while ago and can go by himself whenever he wants. But since I'm not a big fan of that, it's not very often.

Roo and the head tilt. Seriously. Sometimes I just can't understand how I got my sister Minky's daughter! She is cute though, isn't she?

And we're headed home. This was the last weekend in April. It's too hot now to go during the day. Although, we may give it one more try before heading back to the states.

Splash!

Something to read while trying to go

Yes. I know that no one wants to hear about potty training. But you may want to see. It will make you laugh.

Here is Chach sitting on his potty. His potty was on the other side of the kitchen. But somehow, it moved itself over to the fridge. Which is convienent what you are Curious George; a good little monkey and always very curious. He has opened the fridge and is looking at all the goods at his level. Things like, say, fish sauce and Tabasco. Nice.

And after a tough day of potty training, falling asleep with your hand at the wheel of your pirate ship will always make you sleep better. He seriously is holding on the wheel. That and a Lego Starwars book will make anyone sleep tight, don't you think?

Azeem is not his real name, but I'm not sure what is

Sherriff is on vacation. Well, he calls it vacation, but really, I wouldn't call it vacation.

His brother has been beating up his wife because he wants her to move out of the house. Sherriff's house, that he bought for the entire family, and allows all of his siblings, their spouses and children, and his mother to live in. AND, he works here and sends all of his money home to them. Oh. Did I mention that none of them work? He pays for all of them to live. I think this has something to do with the fact that there really aren’t many jobs available there. There is a lot more to this story, like he’s the youngest so he has to do these things and put up with the abuse. Different cultures are hard to understand…

Anyway, he went home to buy another house and move his wife and baby to the new place. When I say house, this is a loose term. Cement block is the truth; one room, no kitchen or bathroom. His old house started as this. Over the past few years he has added seven more rooms and two bathrooms, but they all still cook in an out building. He drew a picture for me one day. The original house is at the bend of a now “L” shaped building. Each family has their own room that they live and eat in. The whole thing is totally barred in, a sidewalk goes in front of the rooms, and then bars on the outside of that. The cooking house/area is in the courtyard of their house. He told me the crime is completely out of control there. They truly have to be locked in for their own safety. He said it’s not uncommon for a house to be surrounded by thirty men in the middle of the night, who are there to rob and kill people. His wife had to sell her jewelry and gold to help pay for the new house, she said she didn’t mind because she can’t wear it anyway. If anyone saw it, it would just get stolen anyway. Did I say I’m thankful to be who I am? Did I say I have no idea why I was born into the life I was, but I am SO thankful? Well, I did now. I know that they have a pretty nice life where they are. I’ve seen the pictures, and while I would rather not live there, it’s nicer than I thought. I know I’m a little snobbish though. No thank you. Remember him telling me, “We have rats everywhere. Inside, outside, all over the place.” Yep. Even though things aren’t perfect here, I’ll take this over Bangladesh any day of the week.

I tell you this because I want you to meet Azeem. Azeem is from Sherriff’s village and is taking his place while he is in Bangladesh. Azeem has been in this country for three years, since he was 17. But most people from B. don’t tell their real ages. His passport says he is 23 years old because it is against the law for citizens of B. to leave the country to work. They can leave for schooling, but have to prove it. They can’t leave to work until they are 21 years old. So this forces these young boys to lie on their paperwork. I’m pretty sure they have no such thing as a birth certificate, so this isn’t too hard to do. At any rate, he is 20 years old – going on 24. He goes by Azeem, but this is not his real name. I think it is Saddam Hussein, but for some reason (harhar) he doesn't like to go by that. Although, his passport says something different as well. I was under the impression that passports were official, and had to be correct and legal. Silly me. I'm just an uninformed American, I guess.

I swear, I had to beg him to smile, and this is totally not his smile. It's a weak smirk. They are so funny about posing for a picture. And check out his cool, hip shirt. I like it. He's washing the outside of my windows in this shot. Ahhhh. A window washer, I know, I'm spoiled.

Azeem hasn’t been what I would call a great cleaner. In fact, I’ve almost fired him several times. He has been working in a soft drink facility since he’s been here, his older brother is a manager there. Sherriff offered him the chance to get out of that and into the world of being a ‘house boy’. So, you can guess, that like most 20 year old kids – he didn’t know how to clean. He came with Sherriff a few times to see how to do things, but really, he pretty much stinks. So why don’t I fire him? Because I just can’t. I can’t. He’s very nice, and quite teachable. So I have tried to be patient and show him how I like things done. And he really is coming along nicely. Also, I know at least two other women that have let him go. Consequently, this is Sherriff’s business down the drain as well. So I have decided to teach him what I can. He is willing; it’s just that he’s young and doesn’t know any better.

People have asked me why I don’t just get rid of him. Peter and I have talked about it and decided that the lesson of ‘Give man a fish he’ll eat for a day, teach a man to fish he’ll eat for a lifetime’ applies to this situation here. So, in time, I think Azeem will be a good house boy. What he misses, I just redo. And I nicely try to show or tell him what needs to improve. Don’t think I’m being super nice or anything. Because I am just treating him how I would want to be treated. At any rate, here is his story:

He is the youngest of eight children. Four boys and four girls, one of his brothers was killed in a car accident while working here about the time the U.S. entered Iraq. His father died of a heart attack when he was three years old, and his mother never remarried. (His ‘Momma’, as he calls her) She taught school for six years until her oldest son was making enough money in this country to support the family. After that she taught her own children and did some teaching of the Quran to others. The oldest brother has been here over 20 years now. Azeem and his siblings are educated; most of them have attended college at least. (this is unusual, Sherriff went through second grade, so he is VERY educated) So a few years ago, while Azeem was in college he told his Momma he wanted to move here and get a job. He said after graduating college, he would be able to make the equivalent of 150.00 per month in Bangladesh. I have to tell you, I don’t blame him. Here he can maybe make 600.00 being a house boy. These numbers astound me, by the way.

Azeem is not married, until recently he had a girlfriend he had never met, but had come to love through talking on the phone. The mothers of these two people had agreed upon their marriage a year ago last January. She was 15 and he was 19. I think they were both excited about the idea of marriage, though they hadn’t met in real life, they talked for hours on the phone every day.

In their culture, a boy cannot marry until the older boys in the family are married. Azeem’s older brother has been married for 14 years, but his brother just older than him, 24, is not married yet. The mother of the bride told Azeem’s Momma, that she would be willing to wait until January of 2011 to get the other brother married, and have the wedding of Azeem and his bride. But, a year passed and January came and went. There was no wedding of his older brother, hence, no wedding for Azeem. And in March, the girl’s mother, married off her 16 year old daughter to another man. A man who she did not know. A man that lives and works in Italy, while she stays in Bangladesh. And while this would have been a similar situation with Azeem, the difference is that while they were engaged, they had fallen in love.

I only know this because every now and then Azeem’s phone will ring. His ringtone is the most beautiful Asian, tropical sound of birds and music. It always makes me laugh a little when I hear it and my kids love it. One afternoon his phone rang and he told me it was his old girlfriend. This is unheard of, “You have a girlfriend?!” I asked. Remember that these people have arranged marriages so they do not date. Remind me, if you want, and I'll tell you Sherriff's story. It's cute. “I used to ,” he told me. He then proceeded to tell me their story. He told me that she calls him every single day. That he has quit calling her, but that she still calls him. That she cries every time they talk, and that they talk for more than an hour each day. I suggested that this may not be a good idea, her being married and all. He said he had tried to tell her this, but she still calls. I told him I think her husband wouldn’t like this, he agreed. He told me that he loved her and that he used to cry when they talked, just after her marriage. But only a couple of times, “I don’t cry anymore.”

This totally breaks my heart. They are just kids. They love each other, but the reality is, they will never get to be together. And what’s worse is this sweet little 16 year old girl, sitting at home (I’m sure at her parents’ house, or maybe his parents’ house) has been married off to a man she doesn’t know and will only see every couple of years. Yet she is dying to continue a relationship with a boy that she should not even be talking to. What a predicament. Poor thing. And they really are young. She called one day while he was here, and he handed the phone to me, giggling. “Talk to her,” he said. I said hello and she just laughed. They are like two teenagers. Wait. They ARE two teenagers.

Here are some of his most recent drawings, this kids posted these on the wall. Nice, aren't they?

Want to know something else about Azeem? He loves to draw. One day after he’d been here for his four hours, I came into the T.V. room with all of my children gathered around him. He was drawing for them. He had drawn a thatched roof hut, some kind of water ox, a bird fishing, several kinds of fish, and different types of fruit including a papaya and mango. The kids loved it. He told me that his sister has five daughters and they would spend hours crawling all over him while he drew for them. Just like in our world, the young fun uncle is always a hit. Sometimes after work he’ll just help himself to the kid’s art supplies and draw for a while. (this is the kind of behavior that employees aren’t a big fan of, btw – but I know he trusts me and feels that I don’t mind) And I really don’t mind. I think he finds it very therapeutic, reminding him of home. The things he draws are things so foreign to me it’s like looking in a book or something.

Anyway, that’s Azeem in a nut shell. He has a bright smile and laughs all the time – he can hardly finish a sentence without laughing a higher pitched giggle in between words with his head bobbing back and forth. Not that I can understand most of what he says anyway. His English is getting better, but whew, if you knew what I went through to collect the above info, you’d need a translator yourself. A few weeks ago he came to me almost out of breath with excitement. His sister has been married for nine years with no baby. And on the evening prior to seeing me, she gave birth to a baby boy. Azeem was so excited he could hardly contain himself. I love how much these people love their families. Today he told me that “One day, if I can have just one baby, I will be so happy.” (hand over his heart while telling me this)

He is young, and a sweet kid who is willing to work and has a broken heart right now. Today he said doesn’t want to get married until he’s 28, at least. I can’t blame him. If I were him, I’d be through with women too. Do you think that that means 28 for real, or 28 in his passport years? :)

*Just so you don't think I am a total snob about cleaning, let me tell you some of my complaints: He cleans the entire house with ONE cleaning rag - and prides himself on it. I mean toilets, sinks, kitchen, windows, etc. Everything. It just makes me a little grossed out. Also, he doesn't see the things I see - like the black mold up high under the toilet rim. Or the edges of the carpet and stairs - he needs to use the vacuum tool. I'm just sayin...AND, btw, I have cleaned A LOT of houses in my career and I know, when you work for someone else, you clean how they want you to. That's just the ways things are. He's learning.

Pretend Mother's Day

In the land of OZ, all things are strange. Like Easter. Or Mother's Day.

See. Where I come from, these kind of holidays happen on the Sabbath. But, since Sunday is actually like Tuesday here, well, you get the idea. It's all a little crazy. Do we celebrate on the actual day or the nearest Sabbath? So should we go for the day Friday before the holiday or the Friday after? See? It's troublesome. I'm a bit of a stickler though, and I think Sunday holidays should be observed on the Sabbath. This makes for trouble when the Easter bunny visits your house on the Friday before Easter Sunday, and your daughters very devout, very Catholic, very Mexican traditional ballet teacher tells your daughter, that "No. Easter was not on Friday Ruby," in her very adorable Mexican accent, "Easter is TODAY. Sunday!"

So today we celebrated Mother's Day.

Sorry to say, and I'm not looking for sympathy - this was by far the worst Mother's Day ever. Let's see.... For starters, I got up and made breakfast for the entire family - no one bothered to mention it was "Mother's Day". (In their defense, some of the kids made cards at school for me on Sunday, so I think it's all very confusing. That take's care of the kids...) Samuel spoke on Mother's, during Sacrament Meeting, which was very nice. My favorite part was either when he said "My mom works *pause* pretty hard." In a kinda-sorta, type of way. OR when he said "I think Mother's should get to have the day off on Mother's Day." Perhaps he and the rest of fam missed that memo.

The Primary was asked to sing and the kids have been practicing for two weeks, we've even had two special practices after school at my house.

They stunk.

I'm not even kidding. Not even a smile, a stitch of love or enthusiasm from one of them. I'm the music leader and was totally horrified, what a bust. They are GREAT singers, usually. It was so bad, not a mom in the room had a wet eye. Ruby cried through the entire first half of the meeting, 'because she didn't get to sit by me'. And then she didn't want sing because she was "having a bad Sabbath." (she wouldn't take the sacrament either because she was 'fasting' - it's not fast Friday, btw.) So the kids get up, bored to death, hardly sing, practically yawned and sat down. Ruby bawled and sobbed through the whole thing. I'm unclear as to why, but later she told me she was mad at her spirit for not going up. Let me remind you, they sang to our entire Sacrament meeting - a whopping 16 people. It's not like there's stage fright around here. The saddest part is that Ruby really is the star of the Primary, when it comes to singing time. She wiggles her hips, does hand gestures and sings at the top of her lungs. I felt really sad, a little hurt, but mostly sad. She won't be little for very long, five is a great age to get sung to in Sacrament meeting. They can sing, they're not embarassed, and they're still totally cute. Oh well. Happy Mother's Day.

Then. Sharing Time went almost 15 minutes over, leaving me 15 minutes to teach Praise to the Man. Tricky. I know. THEN... In nursery, yes I do an hour of nursery too, the air conditioner wasn't working. And I'm sorry, but when it's 105 outside, the AC needs to work. ANNND, Chach is potty training (which I HATE) and he pooped his pants at church. Best present of today? I mean only present of today? Peter cleaned it up.

I think I'll move to Australia.

I did get a nap today. That was good. The kids and Peter helped with some laundry today. That was good. I did the dishes, swept and vacuumed, and made Mother's Day dinner with banana cream pie for desert, that was good. Peter and the boys went to a fireside that lasted almost four hours, making no Mother's Day dinner happen tonight. That was bad.

There it is folks. It's not pretty, but it is what it is.

*For an evening surprise, Chach pooped on the potty! Hooray. Better to clean up his training toilet than his training pants. Words to live by, I tell ya.

**(two stars means double side note) I really have made efforts to post. I have sat down SO many times and within seconds I am being beckoned to by one child or another. Even while I wrote this I had to shush Ruby like 85 times. I told her I can't listen or talk right now. And I had to tuck Samuel in for the second time, mid post, because he reaaaaallly wanted me to. And who knows how long that will last. So, it seems appropriate that what really has been preventing me from posting is a house full of little kids, including one being potty trained and another learning to walk, as I finally get a post in on this pretend Mother's Day.

Now I'm gonna have myself some banana cream pie. So there!

Normal? I don't think so.

Ya know what's really weird? That this:

seems normal now. I mean, a giant perfume bottle in the middle of the city? Normal? It's time for me to get out of here for a while. No really. It's time.

Just thought I'd show you our city decor. This is one of the first things you see going into our little town. There is a big tea pot as well. Not as cool as the giant camel bladder pouring tea from a few posts ago, but it's something, all the same.

Thankful Feet, and Hearts

The sweet ladies that did our feet last weekend were Philipino. One was probably my age, and the other in her mid-twenties. I just wanted to share with you a little about their lives; it made me thankful for mine.

The older lady has two kids, a seventeen year old and a twelve year old. She has been here 7 years. Her mother takes care of her kids. She’s married, but her husband doesn’t work, there is no work in the Philippines. She said he may work now and then if he can find construction or something, but she provides the income. “Philipino men are lazy,” she said.
The other woman has three kids, something like 8, 5, and almost three. She has been here a year, and before coming hadn’t seen her husband for over a year. Her mother has her kids, “There is no work in the Philippines,” again, she said. “Men are no good in the Philippines.”

These women have given up their families to come to a faraway land and clean other peoples feet. Not with their families. Not for a new life. But, to send the tiny bit they make home to their children and mothers. When I talked to the younger lady, she seemed very sad and said she missed her kids very much. I thought of Chach, and his chubby little fingers, light filled face, and his constant, “I yuv you, mom” –s. I started to cry when she was telling me about her family. I truly felt my heart hurt for her. To leave these little ones, that she will never be able to get back – oh, it made me so sorry for her. And it made me anxious to get home to hug my babies, hold their cheeks in my hands, and kiss their sweet faces. I am SO thankful for the life I have. I have NO idea why I was blessed to be born in the country I was, to the family I was, to marry the man I did, and to have the fullness of the gospel in my life – but I feel more blessed for these things every day.

I hope you do to.

Gettin' Out

Sheesh. April was wash as far as the blog goes, sorry ‘bout that. Only nine posts, what was I doing? No idea. Which is usually what I am doing. Something that seems really busy, but nothing to show for it. At any rate, here I am. And, may I add, I am on the countdown. 29 days ‘til we are homeward bound! Hooray. Let’s all just hope and pray that things stay quiet around here near the end of the month, due to recent events, I’m getting a little worried. Word on the street is stay on camp for a week and if you have to go out, cover up your Westerness; as in, my hair and face. Oh yeah, and my kids. So, we’ll be sittin’ pretty around here for a week or so. No worries though, I have a secret. Pssst. I ‘got out’ last weekend. Yep. O.U.T.

My dear friend and I escaped to our neighboring island nation for the day, last Thursday. (pretend Saturday) We took the 7:30 bus, taxi at 8:30 and were in a free-er nation, by 9:30. Totally fun. We ate breakfast at a very fancy Middle Eastern mall. LOT’S of money, fancy cars, and BIG head scarves. We shopped for a while, found nothing to speak of, and then headed for a pedicure at a fancy-schmancy hotel. (We tried for the Ritz, but they were booked. SUPER fancy, btw.) Ahhhhh. Heaven. I wear flip flops every day. In case you didn’t know, Tiff had to bring me shoes in Europe. I wear sneakers for exercise and that is it. So my feet are thrashed, and the poor woman earned her money on that day. Yikes. It was like peeling a potato, poor thing.

After a lovely hour of trashy tabloid magazines, lots of chit chat, and newly soft feet, we went to the Navy Base for some grocery shopping. My friend’s family is still technically in the military, or at least has the I.D. This allowed us (her, actually, I wasn’t allowed to touch anything. I guess flying in an entire American grocery store is a little pricey and is ONLY for the troops – alright, already. I won’t touch.) to get on base and do some shopping. Have you ever seen a person smile at pork? Get giddy over beef jerky? Nearly cry at FROSTED MINI WHEATS? And, of course, hug my box of Lorna Doones? Yes. I did laugh out loud when I bit into REAL Dorito’s and sipped my – gasp - FRESCA! Ahhhhh. Be still my heart. This place had everything! (all of the above mentioned items are not available where I live. ) There was much more. Like liquid Tide that I paid regular U.S. prices for. How ‘bout scrubbing bubbles? Ooooh. It was so fun. Don’t worry, I didn’t smuggle any pork. But my riding companion may or may not have…

The best part of the day? Seeing real live American citizens. Lots of them. Cute, young, buff soldiers. They opened doors for me, said “after you”, and called me” ma’am.” Loved it. And they sounded like home. It really was wonderful. Who knew the simple things in life would bring so much joy? Oh, but they do.