Mangos

I went to two different grocery stores on Sunday (often I have to go to three) and guess what? It's mango season!  This aisle (that's my cart just sitting there abandoned in the middle of it) is FILLED ENTIRELY WITH MANGOS!  Sadly, it is filled with so many types of mangos that I was unable to choose one and left this store (called Lulu) with not even one mango.  (And I really like mangos in my smoothies.)

When I went to Carrefour later in the day, I was not quite as surprised to see an entire aisle dedicated to mangos, but did not buy one there either because I had Lulu with me and she was sleeping in her stroller (yes, I know she's three-and-a-half and probably shouldn't have a stroller anymore but whatever) and so I was holding it tipped back on two wheels and shopping for produce is impossible to do one-handed here because EVERYTHING has to go in a plastic bag and then get tied up and weighed.  Despite my best efforts, I need to return to Carrefour no later than tomorrow afternoon (I forgot garbage bags!) and I will at that time purchase a mango (or seven).  Perhaps we will have a little taste test?

(And yes, I felt like a huge goober when I took this picture.  But I just couldn't stop myself.)

My Ego

Since Tommy discovered his love of red, and I became creative in outwitting his outfit choices, there is a guy in my life whose words keep coming back to me:  "Laura, not letting them wear what they want is about your ego."  It was my good old dad who said that.  So all day today whenever I look at my daughter I will remember as I cringe that this feeling is thanks to my own ego and nothing else.  

I have decided however that I will mention again that rainbow doesn't match with rainbow.

Another funny story about Lizzie is that her teacher (Miss Lillie) is going home to Ireland and this is her last week at school.  As we discussed this yesterday in the car, I learned that my daughter has decided that Miss Lillie's teacher/leaving gift should be 'sparkly nail polish.'  I will let you all know how this goes -- given that I have already purchased a lovely gift for Miss Lillie and do not really want to buy her something she will never use.

Too Much Hot

So I don't know if any of you follow the weather here, but if you do, you've seen some high temperatures.  My strategy is to look at weather forecasts in celsius so that I don't actually know what they mean.  I have figured out that anything higher than 40 is hot but otherwise I just don't really want to know.  People here are too lethargic to complain about the heat in a grammatically accurate and acceptable manner, so it is common to hear people say simply, "too much hot."  (Yes, these people are grown-ups.)

So last Wednesday, the nurse at school called me to tell me that Tommy had vomited and that I should go get him.  (This was after Lulu was out of school for two days -- remember the hives? -- so I was less than thrilled, for both our sakes.)  By the time I got there, he was in fine form and returned home to play Lego for a solid three hours.  He never even asked to watch television, that's how fine he felt.  His teacher emailed me to ask how he was doing, and I replied that I suspected that he had become overheated.  She said that she thought that's what had happened as well.

Imagine my surprise and frustration, then, when about one minute after I sat down with my friend Leigh and a glass of wine (it's Friday here!), I received a call from the school nurse this afternoon at 4:30.  (Tommy does "Book and Cook" club on Thursdays, so he takes the activity bus home from school later than normal.)  She explained that he had a headache and felt like he was going to vomit and could I come pick him up?  I said I thought he was just too hot and could he please just take the bus?  But then she put him on the phone and he had to leave to vomit.  So I put my glass of wine in the fridge and drove to school.  I should note here that I had only had - literally - two sips of wine OTHERWISE I WOULD NOT HAVE DRIVEN and my poor kid would've just barfed on the bus the whole way home.  When I arrived, he was obviously feeling quite badly.  He was pale and sleeping (so I took some time to interrogate the poor nurse about his symptoms and what she suspected was wrong with him), and when I woke him up he vomited again.  Then he vomited some more in the car but I have been around the block my friends and I brought a bowl with me (none of this leaky plastic bag business in my car, thankyouverymuch) and I had the AC on high which mostly covered the smell and we made it home.  He vomited for, say, another hour and then at 6:30 a switch in his little body flipped and he started begging for food.  I let him have a piece of buttered toast and then we started the bedtime routine and he is now sleeping.

But you know what? I am pissed off, and that school is going to hear about it.  Whoever heard of little kids playing outdoors in 45 degree heat, even if the playgrounds are covered? Why can't they go in one of the gyms?  There MUST be a better way and I am dedicating myself to figuring out what it is.  I don't think my kid (or any kid, for that matter!) should have to suffer from heatstroke once a week.

House Tour 2: up the stairs and Tommy & Lulu's room

Tommy and Lizzie's room isn't finished yet - they still need some wall decor and Tommy needs some new sheets and and and. BUT they seem to really like it in there and play happily for long periods. The scene here quickly deteriorated as Tommy wanted to play Lego and Lizzie wanted to play hair salon. (You can see that there's a balcony beyond the dresser, and our room has a door onto the same balcony. The kids door is locked.)

"Parents, Poetry + Punch"

This morning Eli and I went to Tommy's school for "Parents, Poetry + Punch."  Tommy was very excited; so excited that he woke up at 5:30 and showed up in our room already dressed (we picked his clothes out the night before as they were asked to wear 'nice attire' and Tommy wanted to 'dress like Daddy').

My kids are funny

When I picked up Lulu yesterday her teacher stopped me to tell me about her day. It seems our Lulu is learning from her melodramatic brother, because when it was time to tidy up the toy room and go outside, Lulu informed Miss Olivia that her heart had been broken when forced to part with her toy. (Tommy loves to tell me that his heart is broken when I am asking him to do something horrible, like wash his hands before dinner.)

Tommy informed Eli and me this morning that he has different priorities now that he is six and not five. I have no idea if he knows what he was saying but it made us both laugh. (As far as I can tell his priorities are exactly the same.)

House Tour 1: entry & nook

These photos show the front door and the room on the other side of the wall that the brown mirror (in the front door picture) is hanging on. It's off the kitchen and it was hard for us to figure out. But we are happy to have the table. This room is furnished entirely by Ikea and likely we will leave the table and bookcase when we move.

Guess who has a solo in his spring concert?

And guess who is OVERTHEMOONEXCITED about that?  I think Tommy found my reaction when he told me very surprising but he decided he liked it as he now reminds me of his solo whenever he thinks of it.  We have of course been practicing it and the way Tommy sings just kills me (it's adorable, but technically horrifying) and so I've been taking lots of videos of it.  Alas, I have yet to find the perfect one to post here so you will have to wait until after the concert next week.

So guess what else? It's finally gotten hot in Oman.  On Tuesday, Tommy vomited at school (due to the heat; it was at recess) and I went to pick him up and ask I packed the kids into the car it the parking lot, I noticed that the breeze just felt like a hair dryer on my body.  When I commented on the fact that it was our first truly hot day to a friend, she said that I should wait until the humidity reaches 85% because it's much worse apparently than the dry heat of this week.  I am officially excited to come be chilly in Seattle (in 29 days!!!! Which also means that in 29 days I am staring down a 14 hour flight with my two children, but let's just think of happy things right now).

Eli goes to London next weekend for work, and the weekend after that we're going on a little trip to Dubai. Eli and I are excited because we're staying in a nice hotel and spending the day at a very fun looking water park.  The weekend after that, we go see the little baby turtles crawling on beach.  That will either be awesome or sort of scary -- I heard from someone that there is ample opportunity to watch predators pick off the little babies and you know, my kids might not like that.  (We need a book on the food chain as every time it comes up my explanations just scare Tommy and Lizzie, "OH NO, the poor little beetle!".)

This is a random picture for this post, but it's cute.

Happy Mother's Day!

I hope everyone has a lovely day.  Let me ask you this question:  if you were me, would you be more excited about your sick three year old's 'gift' of developing hives, OR would you love Tommy's gift best:

Me:  How was swimming today?

Tommy:  It was good.  We did more electric bobs.  [pause] And MOMMY!  I remembered to put my underwear back on!  It's your present for Mother's Day!  I put my underwear back on!  [pulling on the waistband of his shorts] See?

(That's right.  Twice now my kid has come home without his underwear on because, he explained, it's much faster to get dressed when you don't worry about underwear.)

He also wrote this poem for me:

Laura my Mommy

Laura my Mommy

I love my Mommy

How she is nice

I love my Mom

Mommy

I'm thinking poetry is probably not his thing but I know for certain that at least one of his Grandmas will read this and send me an email about how it's much too early to tell.

(Let's all cross our fingers that Lulu feels better soon.  I am almost certain that she has a virus, but am going to sign off and make a detailed list of everything she has eaten today.)

Blowing kisses at hummingbirds

It was my birthday yesterday and for all those interested it was lovely and my husband and children could not have been sweeter to me.  Here is a list of all the adorable things my children said to me about my gifts:

(a) "I tried really hard to catch you a bug for your birthday present but all I could get was an ant."
(b) "We got you a present.  It starts with 'n'."
(c) "We got you a present.  Daddy hid it in that drawer."
(d) [as I'm opening] "That one's a bracelet."
(e) [as I'm opening the next gift] "That one's a necklace."

And as we did the birthday interview, Eli asked Tommy what his favorite thing about me is, and Tommy said, "Mommy is just SO generous and nice...no, no, no."  So it sounded like he meant I'm not nice, and to him I am not always nice so that would be fair, but he clarified that I'm just so many nice things he was having a hard time choosing.  I love that he thinks I'm generous.

Thank you all for your sweet emails.  Some of them actually made me cry they were so thoughtful and while we all know it's stupid that I have such a hard time with my birthday, the fact that so many of you are lovely to me about it just means the world to me.  Hugs and kisses. I can't wait to see so many of you this summer.

Moving on.  It is my grandma's birthday tomorrow and had she lived past the 12th of February she would be turning 93.  I love love love that her birthday is so close to mine because I will never ever forget it.  We have lots of hummingbirds here in Oman and many of them on the patio we see from the area where the kids and I spend lots of our time (our house tour is coming soon, I promise).  The first time I noticed one, I told the kids about how Gigi loves them.  So we decided that we'd blow kisses at them when we see them, and think about all the things we (I) love and miss about my grandma.  As my mother-in-law said, my grandma is one of those people who left a gaping hole when she died and maybe it's just because it's her birthday, but I find myself really wondering how one goes about dealing with such a hole.  And, also, when do I stop forgetting she's not here anymore and I won't see her this summer?

Answer & clarification (edited to answer an additional question)

One of my most faithful readers asked the following question:

"Question for you...I have noticed on your excursions that you are appropriately dressed for hot arse weather, but am wondering how that generally works with your Muslim country lifestyle.  I think a post on that decision-making would be fascinating."

Faithful reader, that is an excellent question and as you know, I love answering questions.  So here goes.

I have a simple rule for what I'm comfortable wearing.  By comfortable, I mostly mean whether or not I am offending anyone.  Because obviously long sleeves and long pants or skirts are not comfortable in our very hot weather.  (But let's be honest, nothing is.)

Here is my rule:  if I am going anywhere where there will be Omanis, I cover up.  But, if I am doing tourist activities and am fairly confident that I will not bump into Omanis, then I wear my board shorts if I might get wet (that's what those blue shorts are that you see everywhere on my blog, and I wear them over my swimsuit and don't take them off).  So, while on the dolphin watching boat, I wore what is essentially my swimsuit because I thought I might get wet, and in the car I had a maxi-skirt and cardigan that I put on immediately when we got back to the car.  The beach that's in our complex (the Wave) is considered to be an expat beach, but I do not sunbathe in my bikini even though you know I totally love to sunbathe in my bikini.  There are Omanis there often.  So, I wear my board shorts over a one piece if I swim, and then cover up when I get out.  Might this attitude change? Sure.  But for now, it's how I feel most comfortable and respectful.  

***

And now for the clarification.  I believe that I may have given the impression in my post about driving that I took a proper driving/vision test in order to get my license, the one taken by all drivers on the road.  This is not the case.  Because I had a valid license from another country, I did not take a test at all other than the (abbreviated?) vision test (my US license clearly states that I wear corrective lenses, of course).  So, I have hope that most people who have driving licenses here can see properly.  

***

Finally.  We are getting VERY CLOSE on our house and God-willing (or inshallah) I will be posting a home tour very shortly!  (Everyone here says inshallah, about everything, and I think it's cute except when they are saying it to excuse not having their children in a carseat or even a seatbelt. Luckily nobody has ever said it to me in this context or I would have had to forcibly put them in my car and take them to the mall to buy the child a carseat. I cannot express the rage I now feel when I see toddlers dancing around in cars going 120 km/hr.  It was initially confusing and I was much happier and peaceful then.)

***

One reader is curious about liquor here.  And luckily, expats CAN buy alcohol!  One gets a license from the government which allows the purchase of a particular amount (in rials) of alcohol per month.  We pay quite a lot, are only permitted to consume it in our homes, must keep it covered in the car and must drive directly from the liquor store to our houses, but one can indeed buy alcohol here.  Thank goodness!!

Two "pwincess outfits" in one day

The pwincesses have taken over Lizzie.  Today she did not want the dress I selected for her; she wanted to dress like a pwincess.  After she put it on, she turned to her brother and said, "See Tommy? I'm pretty!"  So I put my hands over my ears and ran screaming from the room.  (Not really.)

This first outfit was ruined when she spilled chocolate milk on it.  Because would a pwincess really wear a shirt with a spot on it? Hardly.

 This second outfit - the back up shall we call it - was only borderline acceptable.  "I don't like white."
"Why not?" "It's too different."  (Meaning:  it's not pink.)  Thankfully, yesterday, she was happy as a clam in this "outfit", playing Lego:

Dolphin watching - the kind where you don't see any dolphins

Yesterday morning we woke up at the usual time as that's plenty early for us to get dressed, eat breakfast, make snacks and get on the road by 6:56. (I am sick of waking up so early and will be purchasing black out blinds for the kids' room.) Anyway, I had also convinced my friend Leigh to bring her family on the dolphin watching excursion, and we all met at Marina Al Bandar Rowdha at 7:45. The trip started wonderfully.  We were excited to be out on the water and it was a pretty morning and we all felt good. About ten minutes in to the excursion, it became clear that Tommy gets seasick. About an hour in, nobody felt too hot. And while we saw a sea turtle and some very pretty views of the coast and mountains, we did not see any dolphins, not even one (well, Leigh and Grace saw one but it was fleeting).

Definitely not the best thing we've done in Oman. But, we can't go into the wadis right now due to flooding.  Here are some cute photos, however.

Lulu was nervous on the boat and commented that we were in the middle of the ocean and away from the land.

This is from the end of the trip after we got closer to shore.  Oman is SO pretty.

You Can Drive My Car. Really. Please.

I have been meaning to do a post about driving in Oman, but first I must mention that it was my mom's birthday on the 28th.  I think it would be rude to say how old she is but she was 30 when I was born, so if you know how old I am, you can do the math.  We made her a banner and a video that blogger declined to upload for some unknown reason.  You might all be happy not to see it, though, as it ends with a very loud "HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA PEE-PEE" from my daughter.  She has learned potty humor from her older brother and now inserts it everywhere, effortlessly.  However, she finds it very offensive when Tommy mentions poo so the truth is that potty humor is even more irritating to me than I imagined it would be.

So.  The roads have been a little nuts out there.  On Saturday morning, Eli and I went with an Omani guy (hired by the project to help employees get through the government processes we must complete in order to stay here) to get my driving license and to get Eli's liquor license (so you don't need a liquor license to be able to stay here in the legal sense, but you sort of do need it).  On our way to get the liquor license, we watched a guy tailgate (at a distance closer than you would be able to believe, I'm going to guess about six inches) an oblivious lady while going at least 120 km/hr.  He flashed his lights at her and was probably yelling in his car but of course I have no idea, and finally he saw that he could change two lanes to the right and get around her.  As he pulled in front of her, he actually bumped her car with his car.  On purpose.  Still driving at least 120km/hr.  And the Omani guy who was sitting in the front seat beside Eli got very upset and started saying horrible things about Omani drivers.

I had to take a 'vision test' to get my driving license.  It consisted of correctly identifying two letters that were up on the screen while I waited for the officer to get his papers organized and do my test.  Of course, I did not study the letters as I did not believe those would be the letters used for my test.  Because don't they have to switch them?  No.  Anyway, ever since I went to the best optometrist in the world, I know that my eyes are really, really horrible and while I can normally see fine, when I am presented with a vision test, I get a little bit worried.  And this time, that worry was for no reason because guess what?  I missed one of my two left-eye letters so he asked another one and I got it right. No problem.  Drive on!

This is last week, in front of one of the three grocery stores I visit regularly.

I took this while Eli was driving, but I'm so sad I didn't get a photo the day before when there were some laborers in there, trying to unclog it.  The water hit them at mid-thigh.  It was CRAZY.  But I was driving, so no photo.

This is one of the worst places I drive.  Everyone in the far right lane is trying to get into the left lane to get onto the highway.  I was stopped at a light here.