Thanksgiving

We had a really nice Thanksgiving and I hope all of you did as well.  We (Tommy, Lizzie and I) had a four day weekend (which was actually for National Day but we pretended it was for Thanksgiving).  Eli of course worked three of those four days but it still felt like he managed to be around a bit more than normal which was lovely.  We put up our Christmas tree, and Tommy quickly pronounced the space between the corner and the tree "a perfect rebel camp" so he has some cushions and Nerf guns back there.  Nothing like being shot in the calf to mark the beginning of the Christmas season.  (He's not allowed to shoot anyone with the bullets except Eli because they hurt.)

Lizzie was down and out for three of the four days, starting the weekend with a few hours of vomiting and taking two days to bounce back to full energy.  On Friday night, all of a sudden she just switched back on and the next thing I knew, she was on a trampoline with her friend Miyu.

We had a (very enjoyable)Thanksgiving dinner with lots of Eli's coworkers and somehow Tommy ended up at a different table than Eli and me.  I was of course anxious about this, but Eli thought it was fine.  Later, I learned from one of the guys sitting with Tommy that Tommy said, "two faced bastard" sometime during the meal.  I was so embarrassed I couldn't even ask questions about the conversation generally. (I mean, what were they discussing that prompted Tommy to think, "Oh I know!  I should say two faced bastard at this point in the conversation!")  I just said, "Oh no.  Ron says it in Harry Potter."  And later when we were home, I told Tommy that he's not allowed to say "bastard".  Cue the "well, what IS a bastard anyway, Mommy?  Why is that bad? I don't understand what makes a word a bad word.  Who decides if a word is bad?"  I love seven year olds but they can be so exhausting.

Here is the question of the day:  who thinks we should have a Christmas party? I sort of want to.  But, we have a mini-party already with my parents, Hanh and Eleanor, and Brett, Chinka and Ranesa.  I can't decide.

The Second Grade Friendship Feast (updated with pictures)

The Second Graders have a Friendship Feast each year around Thanksgiving.  It's not Thanksgiving (obviously, it's a Friendship Feast), but the idea is that each child brings a dish from his or her country of origin to share with the rest of the second graders.  The week leading up to the Friendship Feast was a bit stressful for this room mom because the Friendship Feast is the kids' lunch and I didn't know what we would do if there wasn't enough food.  And, I had about half our parents actually sign up to bring things.  But on the actual day, kids brought food, parents showed up to help and it went really well.  I have some photos on my phone but I'm a little bit too low-energy to deal with moving them on to the computer and sizing them so you get this adorable one of Lulu at Omani Tent Day.  You'll survive and if you are sick of looking at photos of my four-year-old, just hang tight because in 20 days you'll be looking at pictures of a five-year-old which is a completely different thing, dontcha know.

Anyway, the kids made placemats for the Friendship Feast.  On each placemat, the kids listed three things they were thankful for (or, if the child happened to be a girl, the child could fit more than three things on her placemat) and the parents at the Friendship Feast had fun looking around for their child's placemat to see if they (the parent) made the cut.

Eli, Lizzie and I did not.  Our son was thankful for, in order:
1. The military (cue drawing of fighter jet and guns)
2. His teacher (I can't blame him, I am also thankful for Mrs. Kriefall), and
3. The continents (!!??!)

I have decided that the next time I threaten to leave Tommy somewhere due to poor behavior (almost always the wandering-off-without-telling-me-where-he-is-going type), I am going to actually leave him and then see if he appreciates my unconditional love and support a bit more next Thanksgiving.  (I am mostly kidding, certainly I do not plan to leave my kid anywhere but the truth is that I am tempted at times.)

Following the Friendship Feast is a four day weekend in honor of Oman's 44th National Day which coincides nicely with Thanksgiving.  On day one, Lizzie commenced vomiting at 2pm.  She did not stop until 9pm after which she slept fairly well.  Today, day two, she has been on the couch and has consumed some Gatorade but otherwise is pretty listless.  She mustered up a fit because the kids claim I promised to take them to "Penguins of Madagascar" today which (1) I did not and (2) I wouldn't even if I had promised because Lizzie is sick.  Is today my favorite parenting day ever? No.  Because before the movie fit, I took Tommy to the beach for a while (our cleaning lady was here with Lizzie) and he played with some tar.  It's off his skin but his lion shirt is ruined and I am still sad about it.  (I hope to get over it soon, as a lion shirt is not an important thing.)

Tomorrow, day three, is the Bechtel Thanksgiving.  I am hopeful she will be up and about but if she is not, then I will stay here with her.  I am right this minute signing off to download a new book to my kindle, even though I have loads of other jobs to do.  (Please cross your fingers that there is no vomiting in my low-energy future.)

I am pretty much thankful for all of you.  Happy Thanksgiving. xoxo

Funny ones

We saw Big Hero 6 over the weekend, and this morning Tommy said, "Mom, I think we should do some add-ons to the truck."  "Like what, honey?"  "You know, some plasma blades and a big drill."

Another good one lately:
Me, to Tommy at the park:  "Where's the Lu?"
Tommy:  "She's learning to survive in the wild!"

Lulu says any number of hilarious things to me, particularly about her boyfriend Yuv.  And this morning I heard from another mom that Lizzie and Yuv were married on the playground.  I'm trying to play it cool but it's not always easy and the whole boyfriend/girlfriend topic has lead to interesting conversations.  Luckily, there are ways to turn these types of conversations into teaching moments like, "Tommy, if you can't go on a date until you're 16, how many years do you have to wait?"

Happy 44th National Day, Oman!

Sultan Qaboos's birthday is November 18th, which is why the road outside the Wave is named November 18th.  When we first arrived, it sounded strange to have a conversation like this:

Me:  "Do you think I should take November 18th to go to school?"

Eli:  "Sure."

Now, I'm on that road multiple times a day and the name sounds lovely and normal.  

Anyway, today is the Sultan's birthday, and we we get a day or two off next week to celebrate and all went to school and work today.  (Eli will go to work next week as well, I am sure.)  Our school normally does a really nice job on National Day - with an assembly that helps us all to understand how far Oman has come in 44 years, coffee and dates for the parents.  But this year, we also had Omani Tent Day on National Day.  Here are some photos of the Lu.  She has an Omani flag on her cheek, henna on her hand and can't stop talking about how yummy Omani bread is ("it's so sweet!").  She's dressed in a little Omani outfit that I bought at the grocery store and which feels as unbreathable as if I had just used plastic bags from the grocery store to make her a dress and some leggings.  We bought the hat at the souk a while ago and I have no idea if it's appropriate to wear the hat with the outfit.  Also, she added the mardi gras beads because there is no such thing as overaccessorizing and Aunt Betsy brought her enough beads last spring to last a lifetime (thank goodness).

Sorry about this wonky spacing between photos.  SO GROSS.  Anyway, Tommy's class went to the Centre for Omani Dress as part of Discover Oman on Sunday.  I didn't go but his friend's mother sent these photos to me and I think they are too cute not to slap up on the blog.  He wore a kuma and dishdasha to school but as there was only one other boy wearing them, I am pretty sure they were stuffed into the locker quickly...

A real shocker

Our school has a pretty solid performing arts component (especially in Middle School and High School) and yesterday, the kids and I attended the matinee of the HS musical, Xanadu.  It's such a tiny community that it's actually difficult to skip these events -- I'm friends with the high school choir director, who was the musical director; Tommy's classmates' older siblings have parts; random parents I know have kids performing.  But the pressure to attend is no problem at all, because I am one of the many people in the world for whom musical theatre is one of the best and most enjoyable parts of life.  While I don't often attend musicals (Muscat has opera but not really musicals), I adore them.  

The school musicals are great because there are loads of kids there, which means that there is a good chance that my kids will be well-behaved (in relation to all the other ones).  And there aren't assigned seats, so, for example, when I took Tommy and Luke to The Music Man last spring, Lizzie and I sat in front of them so they would kick our seats instead of other people's seats.  (I also put them in a short row so that nobody else would sit by them and feel it when they started wiggling and banging around in their seats.)

So yesterday, the three of us piled into the car and drove to school (for the second time, as we had been to swimming lessons earlier) and for an hour and twenty minutes watched a large portion of the high schoolers sing and dance and act.  

And you guys, my kids looooved it.  Lizzie has declared her intention to be on the stage (though she explained to Eli this morning that she doesn't know how to dance, but she does know how to sing).  Tommy might be in a musical some day, but not if there is any kissing at all (like, there can't be any kissing, between any characters).  

The point is that to my delight, it is now fair to proclaim my children musical lovers.  Behold the pre-bedtime dancing:

Sand Storm

We had crazy weather here on Saturday, and while we were pulled over on the side of a road for what I have decided was a pre-rain storm sand storm, I took some (boring?) photos for you to see.  It would have been okay to drive if there had been no other cars, but the speed limit on this road is 100 km/hr and many cars maintained their speed as they drove into the sand.  SO, I just waited it out (and if you were to hear Lizzie's version of the 15 minute wait, you would learn that the ten books in our car were not nearly enough to keep her entertained, "we had to wait with nothing").

A tooth story

So yesterday, we went to a big soft play area for a birthday party.  I love this place because the kids just disappear and play and I am left to chat with other parents.  (Its one downside is that it's very far away, and we had horrible weather yesterday which made driving even less desirable than it normally is.)  Anyway, the kids were playing and I looked to see my first born with yelling, with blood spurting out of his nose.  I hustled him out of the party area and took a closer look -- he was banged up and had managed even to lose a tooth in the process.  What process, you ask?  Why, the process of corkscrewing down the slide, rather than sitting on your bum for the whole thing.  He claims it was an accident, but the attendant said that they were all doing it despite being asked not to.

Anyway, the tooth was loose when we arrived at the party, so it isn't not a big deal that he lost it.  However, he lost it a bit earlier than he otherwise would have because his mouth was bleeding quite a lot.  Fine.  So he takes ten minutes to regroup and put ice on his nose and is back in the play area.  I put the tooth in my pocket because by some miracle he did not swallow it.

When we arrived home, I put the kids to bed pretty quickly because both were very tired -- Tommy had a sleep over the night before and was a hot mess.  I remembered to put the tooth into his 'fairy pillow' and Eli and I went downstairs to eat dinner.

But guess what we forgot? And guess when we realized we forgot it?  This morning when we were exercising and one v-e-r-y glum little seven year old slumped into the living room.  I realized what had happened immediately, but it was far too late to do anything about it.  (I would like to go on record as remembering this happening when I was a kid, and my mom telling me she would go look for the money and being totally fine with the fact that she found something that I couldn't find, but this method couldn't work this morning because my handbag was in plain view of Tommy.)  Eli said that the tooth fairy must have been really busy last night, and I chimed in that you usually get more money if you get skipped (ah, guilt).  Obviously, the tooth fairy has a reminder in her calendar for tonight.

Tommy asked me this morning as we walked to his classroom how I suppose the tooth fairy got started.  So, maybe no permanent harm has been done.  UGH.

Sand Face

Just a sweet one (taken by my friend April) that really says a lot about what it's like to be a kid living in Muscat when you are four.  Pretty great.

First Soccer Game

On Friday, Tommy's team had their first soccer game.  It was a great experience in many ways.  For example, I overheard part of this conversation during which the coach (who happens to be the elementary school counselor) said, "Okay, so what are we going to say if their goal is wide open, their goalie is asleep, and one of us takes a shot and misses?" [Pause]  "Great try!  Way to go!  You'll get it next time!"

And then I took a deep breath and felt okay.  But still, it was a tough game for Tommy's parents.  He played the second half and mostly stood around.  I'm positive that he is worried about making mistakes and figures its easier to just not do anything, but you guys I just want him to feel confident about sports SO BADLY (yes, this is totally about me and my own lack of confidence).  So we have lifted the no balls in the house ban and he and I spend some time passing most days which is embarrassing for me but makes him feel like a star.

The team won the game and the three little guys who made goals were ON TOP OF THE WORLD.  I mean, just so amazingly cute.  Let's all cross our fingers for Tommy to be one of those guys, one of these games (this league plays through March, so lots of opportunity).

See how Tommy (in the bright orange shoes) isn't really paying attention? He's number 3.

Here he looks like his is actually playing.  So this is a nice shot.

This is a tiny bit more accurate.  Walking away from the ball with his back to it.  (In his defense, he was supposed to be back there.)

The team, and the silly coaches.  (It was Halloween.)