The 12 Days of Christmas!

During the Christmas holiday, our family decided not to subject ourselves to the costly and freaking-time-consuming experience that is going to the US, and instead we opted to stay closer to home: Thailand.

We were there for 10 days, and while I could sit here and recap every single thing that we experienced, I don't feel like getting Carpal Tunnel Syndrome today, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to go through what would surely be the literary equivalent of looking at someone's vacation slides!

So, in order to consolidate information, I am going to briefly touch on our trip while using a popular holiday song:

On the twelve days of Christmas, the universe gave to us:

1 stomach virus that we ALL shared at one point or another during the holiday. Combine that with a hotel in which the water pressure was almost non-existant, as well as the maid service and fresh towels, and it could turn into The Stuff That Nightmare Vacations Are Made Of. Fortunately, we soldiered through.

2 ferry rides to and from Phi Phi Island. All I am going to say about that is that ferry rides sound better in theory than they are in reality. Especially with kids. Sick kids.

3 nights of eating at Gastone's, an awesome Italian restaurant that we found one block away from our hotel in Phuket. They had good food (gnocchi with gorgonzola sauce! Caprese salad!) and VERY generous pourings of wine, so needless to say that after a week of eating the same food on Phi Phi Island (and drinking the same bad chardonnay), Gastone's was like paradise.

4 sick people who took turns being miserable and bed-ridden. That is really all I am going to say about that. You're welcome.

5 hours door-to-door to any hotel in Phuket (including airport time and the taxi ride from the airport). You just cannot get better than that.

6 families reuniting. We traveled to Thailand to meet up with 5 other families, a big gang of us who all met when we lived in Doha. Some still live in Doha, some live in Vietnam, others in Jakarta and some live in Singapore. But for 11 days, it was as if we were all still back in the desert together again. Except, of course, that instead of a desert, we had a beach! A nice one, too. So, really, it was the BEST reunion possible.

I'm not going to lie, though- all of us with our two kids per family? It was like a circus parade everywhere we went. But we were back together again, so how could it possibly bother us? Bother everyone around us? Maybe. But bother us? Not in the least.

Another truth being revealed here is that we did not go ONE SINGLE meal in a restaurant without at least one panicked person saying, "Wait- where is my kid???". Those kids were fast and wily, and they ganged up on us.

7 days of vomit. Yep, between the four of us, there were only FOUR days when no one threw up at least once. Not to be boring or redundant by throwing up in...oh, say a TOILET, the list of places where our kids threw up included the middle of the bed, the breakfast table in the hotel restaurant, and in the taxi on the way to the airport.

8 episodes of "Elementary". I had to do SOMETHING while I was holed up in the hotel room with sick kids, so I caught up on this show. I had been saving the episodes for such an occasion, and I watched all eight of the episodes that I'd accumulated. 

I am a HUGE fan of the BBC series "Sherlock", so I was a bit nervous about the new American version of Sherlock Holmes. All I can say it that it did not disappoint. It almost made sitting in the room while everyone else was out kayaking or romping on the beach worth it.

Almost.

9 tantrums daily. So, I think that by now we all know how well Skye reacts to ANYTHING when she is at home in her usual routines, right? Well, take her OUT of those routines and throw in a new, strange place, along with a dodgy stomach and then just imagine the possibilities!

That is pretty much all I can say about that without withdrawing into some kind of toddler-induced PTSD and crawling into the corner to chew on my hair.

10 kids surrounding. All the time! See my previous explanation of the 6 families, and remember that we had AT LEAST 10 kids around us at all times.

The kids had a ball, and the parents actually got some time to relax and hang out, because there is no better babysitter than other kids. Well, with parental supervision, of course. We like to keep some semblance of responsibility.

11 pizzas eaten. You know how our kids aren't the most adventurous eaters on the planet? Well, throw in some vegetarianism and the fact that being on an island meant that every menu pretty much consisted of seafood or chicken, and the result is that they ate pretty much nothing but pizza and french fries the whole time.

Skye would try some vegetable pad thai once in a while, but as far as Kaia was concerned, if it wasn't covered in cheese or ketchup, she wasn't eating it. No, she was not.

12 My Little Ponies. That was the extent of Skye's Christmas list, so our room literally looked like a My Little Pony factory exploded and our kids looted the aftermath. 

Well, that pretty much covers our trip to Thailand. So tell me, what did YOU do during your holidays?

The Fickleness of Youth.

So, since we have moved to Singapore, Skye is not able to attend the school where we work, as she is not yet old enough. She is attending a private (that is code for "expensive") preschool which many other staff kids attend, as well.

A few weeks ago, I was summoned to the school for parent/teacher conferences. Of course, they were only offering times that were during the day, when I was to be working. Of course, Jabiz was out of town during that week, leaving me as the only parent who could possibly attend the conference.

Between you and me, I wouldn't have felt too, TOO sad about missing the conference, because really? It's for a 3-year-old. Not that I don't support Skye's education, but I was pretty sure that I knew what the teacher was going to tell me- she's a nice kid, she's on track developmentally, and she acts a lot better at school than at home. You know, the usual in our household.

BUT, I didn't want to be THAT parent (you know, the ones that the teachers talk about while making tsking noises and pitying the poor child for being put second to work. Maybe that's not EXACTLY how it goes, but it does in my head.) so I chose a time during my lunch period and hurried off as soon as the bell rang, eating a sandwich in the car on the way.

I was right, I knew exactly what the teachers were going to say, and they said it all.

Well, almost. There was something that I definitely WASN'T expecting.

I believe that I've mentioned a time or two (hundred) what a Mummy's Girl Skye is. Her favorite phrase to scream is, "No! I want Mummy to do it!" whenever Jabiz tries to do...oh, anything for her.

Only MUMMY can carry her, only MUMMY can lay with her while she goes to sleep, she will only sleep next to MUMMY when she crawls into our bed...and the list goes on and on. And on. And on even still.

So, you will imagine my surprise when, during our conference, her teacher turned to me and said, "Skye talks about her father all the time, I assume that she is closer to him?"

WHAT? I swear to God.

"Really?" I asked, "No, she's actually quite close to me."

Her teacher look confused. "Oh? That's funny, she never talks about you, she just talks about her father all of the time."

Ummmmmmmm....okay.

I sat there for the rest of the conference with a smile plastered on my face, but all the time ruminating on what a fickle little traitor my beautiful daughter was turning out to be.

I admit that I began plotting my revenge. Really, Skye? You want Mummy to brush your teeth? GO ASK DADDY. You want Mummy to help you get dressed? GO ASK DADDY. Snuggling before bedtime? I GUESS DADDY WILL DO IT.

Yes, the Super Mature part of the conference had begun. Clearly.

Obviously, when I walked in the door, determined not to fall for her ingenious deceit any longer, I immediately caved when she came running into the room, screaming, "Mummmmmmmmmy!!!" and jumped straight into my arms.

It's just another reminder that I need to stay on my toes when it comes to this parenting thing, because these kids will throw you for a loop when you least expect it.

At least life is never dull around here!

 What are some things YOUR kids have done to keep you on your toes?

Who Are You And What Have You Done With My Child?

Sometimes the smallest creatures make the loudest noises, you know? Bullfrogs and cicadas are two examples that come to mind, just off the top of my head. I'm sure if I spent two minutes on Google, I could come up with a list of at least ten to twelve more.

And I'm also pretty certain that Skye would be on that list.

Because she may be small, but the girl is LOUD.  And what is super awesome is that as she gets older, her little lungs just keep on developing and she gets louder and louder. And louder.

You see, there is a very good reason why I am sitting here, slumped over my laptop with a glass of wine in hand, my brain a bit hazy from the nonstop screaming that has been going on in our house since about...oh, 6:00a.m. and grateful for the miracle that is the fact that I managed to survive another day with that kid without locking myself in the closet and counting to one hundred.

I'm also cursing the genius who came up with the phrase Terrible Twos, because it is, in fact, a lie. Not that it's not true, because it is. But it is inaccurate in that it gives parents false hope that the terribleness of it all will somehow END- as if by magic- when your child turns three.

Anyone who has ever had a three-year-old in the history of the world will at this point start nodding their heads and chuckling, "Oh, yeah, I fell for that, too. FOR ABOUT A WEEK."

Because it doesn't get better, it gets worse. They should start referring to it not as the Terrible Twos, but as The Terrible Time Between The Ages Of Two And Four When Your Child Will Act As If They'd Been Left In The Woods To Raise Themselves Since Birth.

But I guess they can't call it that, or fewer people might sign on to this whole parenting thing. Better to have them believe that there will be one bad year, but the rest will be sunshine and butterflies.

However, parents who are on their second child know better. We've been through it before. Fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice, shame on ME.

I know what to expect. I'm no stranger to this. Yet, somehow- SOMEHOW- it is still a surprise to me when I have to look down at my daughter on the floor, screaming, and say "Use your words, Skye, USE YOUR WORDS!" over and over about 10,000 times.

On a side note, before I had kids, there was no phrase that got on my nerves when I heard people say it to their kids more than "Use your words!", and now I find myself repeating it more times in a single day than I care to admit.

Well, except maybe for, "Thank you for being a good listener!", which I am also the queen of. I totally rock that saying. ROCK. IT.

Anyway.

In three weeks, Skye will be turning three years old. Three! Now, a lot of people get nostalgic when their kids turn three, and start ruminating on where the time went and how they grow up so fast and all that.

We tend to go in the opposite direction and silently think to ourselves, "Finally! Things will start to get easier soon! No more diapers! Full, coherent sentences that actually communicate needs and wants! And REAL VACATIONS!"  You all, we are really looking forward to going on better vacations. Or ANY vacations, really, since most of the time we just stay home because traveling with a two-year-old just isn't worth it.

Of course, we realize that in a few years we'll feel differently and every birthday will have the faint tune of "Sunrise, Sunset" wafting in the background, but for now, we relish the toddler birthdays.

Mostly because, let me tell you, two-year-old Skye ain't easy, and we can fully see that three-year-old Skye will be even worse. This is made obvious by the fact that the number of her daily tantrums have tripled- TRIPLED- and she seems to have periods of time when she loses all ability to communicate in anything but screams and shrieks.

However, anyone who reads this blog knows that for Skye, this is nothing new, really.

What IS new is her habit of throwing herself on the ground and doing a re-enactment of several scenes from "The Exorcist" at the very mention of the word "No". It's not even "No", really- the "N" sound will barely escape our palate when she goes down for the count before we can even get to that all-important "O" part.

She does not like that word...no, she certainly does not.

What is also new is her total and absolute refusal to do ANYTHING when she is in a mood, as well as her habit of throwing toys and saying, "I don't WANT this!" and giving off threats such as, "I'm NOT going on the school bus!", even though it is seven o'clock at night.

I'm not sure why, but in her precious little toddler mind, the threat of not going on the school bus is just THE absolute worst that she can lay on us.

She is fun, that one.

I will give you an example from this morning. I'd gotten up at my usual time of five a.m. (yep, you read that right- FIVE A.M.) to make the kids' lunches and breakfast before getting into the shower to get myself ready for work.

Now, in order for our mornings to go smoothly, the kids need to get up by 6:15 at the LATEST, eat their breakfast somewhat quickly and be in the shower by 6:50 so that we can get out the door by 7:15 with enough time to feel relaxed enough to actually start our day peacefully.

So it should come as a surprise to nobody that at 6:35, I was still sitting next to a sobbing Skye, who was on the floor wailing because I told her that she couldn't use the iPad as soon as she opened her eyes this morning. I'd had the audacity to tell her that she had to- GASP!- play with her toys in the hour before her preschool bus came.

 Play! With her toys!

What kind of parents are we, anyway?

There were several back and forths that involved me firmly letting her know that this behavior wasn't acceptable and she would not get her way by displaying it, and she responding by screaming and throwing every toy that was within grabbing distance. Time-outs completely failed me and were utterly futile .

This went on. And on. And ON.

Finally, at about 7:05, I threw any notion of a shower or breakfast out the window and just tried my best to get her into her clothes and brush her teeth. You can imagine how well that went.

However...

At exactly 7:12, she was sweetly sitting at the table, eating her eggs and telling me all about the things she was going to paint today in preschool.

Obviously.

There is really no truer sign of a parent of a toddler than when they walk into work at 7:30 a.m. and already have a look about them as if they'd done battle with the devil that morning, and lost. Not just lost, but lost SPECTACULARLY.

So I am looking forward to saying "Adios!" to the Terrible Twos and "Bring it on!" to the Thundering Threes, because as bad as I know they will be, they are followed by the Fabulous Fours, which I know from personal experience is when your kids resembling reasonable human beings, albeit with the newfound ability to argue every point that you make.

But at least the arguing takes the form of words and phrases, which I will take over screaming and shrieks any day.

What do YOU do about the Terrible Twos and Thundering Threes??

I'm Baaaaa-aaaaaaack!

Source

OK, well, I will be the first to admit that it has been too long. Way, way, way, way, WAY too long since I have decided to bore/annoy/delight/entertain anyone with my musings. But- BUT- there is a very good explanation for it- we moved countries!

 I don't know if you've ever moved countries before with a cat and two kids, but it is pretty much the equivalent of a black hole and vortex meeting, entwining, and then sucking every last second of free time and ounce of energy that might possibly exist in your newly chaotic world.

Now, that may not sound too pleasant to you, but believe me, it wasn't really so bad. How can that be? How can that possibly be? Because we moved to Singapore!

Singapore!

I don't know what your current knowledge of Singapore is (because, let's face it, before we moved to Southeast Asia, MY knowledge of Singapore was that there was a drink named after it and that they caned people. Yes, I know.  I KNOW.)

Anyway, I believe that I have made my feeling about Singapore known in the past, but now we live here, so life is closer to ideal than it has been in a while. I WILL miss you, Jakarta, sort of.

But let's get back to the art of moving, shall we?

Moving countries involves what I call The Mother of All To-Do Lists that starts about 5-6 months before you actually move. Now,  I LOVE me a good To-Do List or five,  but this one just about kicked my ass. Here are a FEW items that were on my Mother of All To-Do Lists:

1.) Contact several shipping companies. Have them come over to our house and look at everything that we MIGHT have wanted to take with us, then tell us that it would take a million boxes to fit it all and send us an insane estimate that was more than the cost of my first new car.

2.) Realize that at least half of our stuff won't fit into the size of condo that we will likely live in in Singapore, so decide which stuff stays and which goes. Involve children in this. Put things into "Give away" boxes, only to have crying children go back an hour later to retrieve them, because apparently they just CANNOT live without the talking frog that has sat, ignored, in a basket for the past two years.

3.) Sell, deliver and coordinate pick-ups of the half of the stuff that you did manage to give away.

4.) Contact pet relocators about 10-year-old cat who has moved countries with us three times so far. Receive estimate that cat will cost more than four rooms full of furniture to move, AND will be required to stay in quarantine in Singapore for a month.

5.) Secretly curse cat for being such a tolerant pet and putting up with the near-constant abuse of children and toddlers in the house over the years.

Such abuse includes- but is not limited to- being picked up and carried around, being laid upon, being kissed in the face far too long and far too many times, being woken at all times of sleep because some tiny human has decided that it was Snuggle Time, and having dry food mixed in the water dish because some unsteady child has decided that feeding the cat is HER job.

6.) Secretly curse the 2-year-old for loving the damn cat so much. Sigh and add astronomical price of shipping cat 90 minutes away to the already-way-too-huge Moving Budget.

7.) Take said cat to several vet appointments for shots and blood tests. Then have cat shippers tell you that the information which they provided you was, in fact, completely WRONG and that your cat will have to remain in Jakarta for 6 MONTHS before she is able to relocate to Singapore.

8.) Scramble to find friend who is willing to host and care for cat for an astoundingly inconvenient amount of time. Find one and be forever in their debt.

9.) Deal with the bureaucracy involved in leaving Jakarta. This is equivalent to banging your head against the wall for days at a time, until you wish you would just pass out already and be done with the misery.

10.) Have to fire nanny during the last week of school and therefore deal with 2-year-old at home during the two full days that the shippers spent packing and moving out all contents of the house.

 I don't know if you have ever sat on the floor in the corner of an empty room while simultaneously attempting to entertain a 2-year-old and answer questions from packers who don't speak English about what goes and what stays, but it just might push you over the edge.


Like I said, these are just a small sample of what was involved in packing up and leaving Jakarta. And then my head exploded.

No, not really. Well, maybe. Or at least it sure as hell felt like it.

However, survive it we did, and THEN began the next chapter of the summer: Settling in.

Settling in can be fun, but it can also involve 10,000 trips to Ikea and a constant re-evaluation of the budget because those 200 things that you didn't really know that you needed? Well, you need them. And you need them NOW.

It also involved living out of duffle bags for a few weeks, which might not seem like a big deal to normal people, but to people with small kids, it is like camping in the middle of Alaska with a pair of socks and a can of soup. In winter.

All that careful planning and packing that I'd done? Well, let's just say that if I HAD the energy to laugh, I would. The good news was that, since we were moving to Singapore, we could go out and buy whatever the kids were lacking, but that takes us back to the previous paragraph regarding the budget.

In addition, settling in was a time of exploring our new environment and appreciating its newness. Water from the tap! Sleeping all night without being woken by mosquitoes even ONCE! City buses! Public Libraries (AKA Free Books!)! Traffic rules...that are followed! Children's Theater! Wine in every grocery store -that one was pretty much just for me, but still!

It's all here, and we all just drank it in. However, we did miss many things about Jakarta: our school, our friends, our colleagues, so it wasn't ALL sunshine and roses. There were a few sighs, and some "When are we going home?" questions to deal with, but eventually we moved into our new condo and everyone adjusted.

So, there you go. The past 6 months in a nutshell. I didn't even go into the starting a new job and new schools, the action-packed visit from my parents, the week that I spent in Single Momdom while Jabiz went on a work trip to Ireland (I KNOW!), OR the fact that I was laptop-less during the summer and relied solely on my iPad, which is great, but on which I cannot type more than a few sentences without people suspecting that a drunk monkey somehow got hold of it and knocked out an incoherent paragraph.

BUT, things are sorted now, life is calming down in some ways, though also frantically picking up in others, and we are getting into a good rhythm.

I already have dozens of blog posts in my head, but needed to get this one out before any of the others can manifest themselves. Life in Singapore is a wild ride!

Weekly Reflection

Well, everyone, the end of the week has come, and what a loooooooong week it has been. I'd like to share some bits of wisdom that I have gained this week, in hopes that they will help you, too, grow both as a person and as a parent.

You're welcome.

This week, I have learned:

1.) When your child is in Time Out in your bedroom and has stopped screaming like a freaking banshee on a sugar high for more than 20 seconds, it is NOT- I repeat, NOT- because they are busy reflecting on their actions and behavior, thus ready to come out of the room and start acting like a contributing member of the family for the first time all week.

It IS because they are too busy slathering him/herself from head to toe with your brand-new, olive-scented lotion- which is ALSO, incidentally, all over your newly-washed duvet cover.

You're welcome.

2.) Do not ever (no, seriously, EVER) attempt to make any new recipes or broaden your childrens' palates in any way. They will not eat it, and you will then be stuck eating pesto risotto everyday for lunch for the entire next week.

Pesto risotto for dinner? Yum. Pesto risotto for lunch EVERY DAMN DAY? Less yum.

You're welcome.

3.) Whatever mood the child who wakes up first is in, the child who wakes up second will be in the exact opposite mood.

I know this. I know this empirically from our mornings this week, when for the first 3 days, Skye screamed nonstop from the second she woke up until the second we dropped her off in her classroom. I am not exaggerating, I am SO not exaggerating. In fact, I wish that I WAS exaggerating, so I could think to myself as I write this, "Well, it wasn't really THAT bad, but it will make a more interesting blog post!"

No.

Skye literally screamed the entire time she walked down the stairs in the morning. She literally would shove her breakfast bowl away from her after barely glancing at the contents, screaming "Don't want to!" She would then literally refuse to let us take off her pajamas, bending her arms and grabbing onto the bottom of her PJ top every time we tried. That would be followed by her literally screaming when we changed her diaper. Or put on her uniform. Or brushed her teeth. Or put her into the car. Or took her OUT of the car.

I can sense that you might be getting my drift by now.

Anyway, Kaia observed this behavior, and we could watch the wheels turn in her mind as she clearly thought, "That is ridiculous. I am not going to lower myself to such antics."

She was lovely. She ate her breakfast with a smile on her face. She said nice things to everyone. She got dressed and ready for school without complaining or taking her own sweet time. When we got to school, she grabbed her bags and ran cheerfully off to class.

We thought to ourselves how lucky we are to have at least ONE pleasant child in the house.

Until this morning. Skye woke up early, and while the sounds of her stirring would normally cause me to wince and brace myself for the screaming that was surely to come shortly, this morning was different.

She was quiet. She came out of the room with a smile on her face. She ate her toast quickly, then asked for more. I was just thinking that we were going to have an actual- dare I say it?- PLEASANT morning when Kaia came walking out.

Remember lovely, smiling Kaia? Well, neither did she, apparently. She took one look at her french toast and started to crumble because it wasn't a bagel. She pulled out all the theatrical stops, sobbing into her arms on the table, wailing loudly, and sniffling pathetically.

Meanwhile, Skye just looked at her with a disgusted expression that clearly said, "What's going on with THAT ONE today?"

Upon further reflection, Jabiz and I concluded that we could count the number of times when our kids were both in good moods at the SAME TIME on one hand from recent memory.

Sigh.

I guess ONE is better than NONE, right? I always try to look on the bright side...

I'll say it one last time: You're welcome.

Have you learned any valuable lessons this week that you'd like to pass along?

Highlights From America

Whenever I think of winter, it will look like this.

As I've mentioned, Jabiz and I took our two kids on a 30-hour plane ride to visit family in the U.S. during the Winter Break holiday.

And as much as I'd love to regale you with a minute-by-minute recap of our trip, I just don't have the energy after dealing with my kids all day, so I am going to give you the highlights instead. And the lowlights. Let's just say I'll give you ALLLLLLLL the necessary lights, OK?

Because truthfully? They ran the spectrum.


So, here they are:

1.) Perspective. I got a lot of it, and it was good.

When we arrived in Hong Kong at 6:00 a.m. for our 5-hour layover,  I was feeling sorry for myself. I'm not going to lie, I was throwing myself one HELL of a pity party in my mind. We'd left Jakarta at midnight, so the kids were all out of sorts, and we had a loooooooong couple of hours (or five!) ahead of us. I'd not slept at all on the plane and was looking around frantically for the nearest Starbucks.

I found it, we found the kids play area, and Jabiz and I settled in for the wait. Then we noticed a woman by herself with two kids in the same play area. Her son looked about 8 or 9, and her little girl was less then 2. The woman was lying down on the floor of the play area, napping.

I know, right? That's what I thought. Until a bit later when she woke up.

Given the fact that we were the only ones in the play area, we started chatting, and it turned out that this  woman had been trying to fly from Australia to Italy with her two kids. By herself. Apparently, it's a trip that she makes all the time because she has family in Italy.

She told me that her son gets bad motion sickness, and I totally related, seeing as how just going too high on the swings can send me running for the nearest bathroom. Don't even get me started on airplane turbulence.

Anyway, her son had felt sick because of the turbulence on the their flight to Hong Kong, and so he threw up on the plane right before the flight to Italy took off. Not all over the place, just in a barf bag, but still, he threw up. In Asia. I don't know how much you know about Asia, but they take getting sick VERY seriously, my friends.

Well, obviously, that didn't go over well with the airplane crew, who threw the whole family off the plane, even though the son was checked by a medic who said that he had no fever or other signs of illness.

Sounds bad, right? Well, it gets worse. Turns out the airport security wouldn't let the woman and her kids leave the airport until they'd gotten checked out and cleared by a doctor, which they had to find on their own. Keep in mind that they WEREN'T ALLOWED TO LEAVE THE AIRPORT, so this poor woman had to somehow find a doctor in a strange country on her own and over the phone. A doctor who would then come to the airport and check them out.

And it still gets worse. The woman wasn't allowed to leave the terminal and go to the airport hotel with her kids, and so they had to spend the night sleeping in the terminal. She said that she was too freaked out to sleep since she wanted to be able to keep an eye on her kids all night, especially her little girl who was young and therefore likely to go wandering off if unsupervised.

You can now question the logic of making a family who was suspected of illness remain in the terminal around ALL of the other passengers versus being sequestered in their own hotel room, but I'm afraid that I'll have no response.

Hence the napping on the floor of the play area. Now it all made sense. The woman was completely exhausted. When we left her to go meet our flight, she was getting ready to have a meeting with airport officials to see if she would be able to leave the airport before Monday. Keep in mind that this was all happening on SATURDAY.

As I walked to the plane with my two healthy kids and husband, all I could think was: Perspective. I was OOZING it.


2.) New York, New York.

Because a 30-hour flight wasn't quite disruptive enough to our family, we'd also decided that a trip to New York at Christmas was too awesome NOT to do. So, the DAY AFTER we landed in Chicago and drove the two hours to Milwaukee, we then got BACK on a plane and headed for New York.

Don't even say it.

But it was awesome, it was SO awesome! Awesome enough to be worth all of the jet-lag and crankiness that it caused the kids. Because when they weren't jet-lagged and cranky, they had a great time.

If there is a touristy thing that can be done in New York with kids that we DIDN'T do, then I don't know what it is. OK, well, skating in Rockefeller Center. We didn't do that. But we did everything else: Santaland at Macy's, FAO Schwartz, Toys R Us in Times Square, The Natural History Museum, a carriage ride in Central Park, we did it ALL. And we WALKED to all of it.

And we loved it!


3.) Driving

I DROVE, you all! Drove! By myself! And it was easy! Because there are rules and laws and people actually follow them! Not only that, but I KNOW what the rules and laws are! There are lanes! And people stay IN them! And there are blinkers, and turn signals and people USE them!

Enough said.


4.) Wine. Lots of it. Lots of it and CHEAP.

I don't know if you all are fully aware of this, but you can buy wine just about anywhere in the US. This is something that you might take for granted, but for me, being able to go to the grocery store and get a decent bottle of white wine for $5.99 pretty much anytime I liked was akin to being blind and suddenly discovering that I could see again.

OK, maybe that's a bit too dramatic. And insensitive to blind people. But you get the idea. Going from having to order a case of wine at a time (at $20 a bottle) because I don't know when the next time it will be available to popping into the store and grabbing a $6 bottle just WHENEVER allows for a certain degree of drama, I think.


5.) Grocery stores

I am going to be honest and tell you that the first time we went to an American grocery store, Jabiz actually got so overwhelmed that he had to leave. LEAVE. As in leave the store.

OK, now granted, it was December 23rd and the store was PACKED, the lines were LONG and we were in a bit of a hurry because I was convinced that we were going to miss The Nutcracker. Not exactly the best time to go out for a weekly shop. Throw in the fact that we'd gone in cold and not even bothered to make a list, and anybody would have had a near-breakdown. I'll admit that I was a bit shaken up, as well. How could I have come in so UNPREPARED?

 Jabiz stared at all of the aisles of EVERYTHING and just couldn't handle it, poor guy. Too many choices. Too many aisles. Too many different flavors.  Just too many. He refused to go back to the grocery store for the remainder of our trip.

However, I got the hang of it on my next visit. And I loved it. Everything about it. Every. Single. Thing.


6.) Independent Movie Theaters

I admit it, I LOVE independent films. I love independent movie theaters. I cannot describe to you the happiness that I felt when Jabiz and I got to go out on a Date Night and saw "Young Adult", or the sheer joy with which I watched all of the previews for other independent films...which I would not be able to see because they opened after we left.

Sigh.


7.) Holiday candy on SALE after the holidays!

Imagine that! What a novel idea, right? You'd think so, but grocery stores overseas seem to be of the mind that it is better to NEVER mark down the prices on holiday candy in hopes of getting the full price for one or two items rather than sell it for less...the result is that you go to the grocery store in April and still find the Christmas chocolates on the shelf with the same ridiculously marked-up price tag that you MIGHT overlook and give into in December, but not in April.

I'll tell you, when I saw snowflaked-shaped peppermint patties on sale for $.30 each, I grabbed them! And ate them. I ate them all.

And along the same thread, peppermint/chocolate coffee bought from the clearance bin because it had a holiday theme? This is what I'm talking about.


8.) Jet Lag

I made the cardinal mistake of parents who fly overseas with their children: I got cocky. I was SO prepared, I'd planned everything SO well, I'd timed everything PERFECTLY so that when we arrived, our kids would be awake for 7 hours, then sleep all night and be fine.

Yep, that was what I'd thought, all right.

And it worked...for one night. It's true, the kids DID go to sleep our first night in the US, and they stayed asleep all night. I woke up, patting myself on the back for keeping my kids in their normal routine, thus eliminating any chance that their little bodies would be out of whack and result in sleepless nights.

I didn't think that maybe- JUST MAYBE- the reason why they'd slept all night was because they were just completely worn out from the flight, and not because I was the awesomest, most well-planned mom in the world.

I did think that a few nights later, though, when I was up from 11:00 p.m until 3:00 a.m. with Skye, watching some of the worst television ever produced. I was introduced to the world of Reality Television. And it was not pretty. Within four hours, I learned that I was supremely happy not to be raising sextuplets with some jackass husband, that I would never, EVER expose my children to the world of children's beauty pageants, and that some dance teachers are just scary-ass bitches.

All because of Jet Lag. Though, to be honest? I already knew most of those things.


9.) Target

I don't think I really need to say anything more about this one. I mean, you've BEEN to Target, right?


10.) Doorbells and mailboxes and hot water, oh my!

There are things that are missing when you live overseas, things in the daily life of most Americans that they take for granted. I am aware of them, but I don't really pay much attention to the fact that we are missing them until we go back to the US and my five-year-old stares in amazement at a mailbox and asks, "What is THAT?"

I swear to God. When she asked me that, I was deeply confused and answered, "What is what, honey?"

"That!"

"The mailbox?"

"What's a mailbox?"

And then it hit me: we have not lived anywhere that had a mailbox or neighborhood mail delivery service while overseas. Her whole little life, we've had our mail either delivered to the school, slipped under our door, or sent to a post office box.

Another night, we were waiting for pizza delivery and when the doorbell rang, our kids looked at us with bewilderment and screamed, "What is that noise?!"

Again, no doorbells in any of our homes overseas. Well, our house here in Jakarta KIND OF has a doorbell, but it's more of a quiet clicking sound that you can only hear if you are standing within two feet of it. Clearly, it is very effective, especially when it is followed by loud pounding on the door.

Don't even get me started on hot water. One night, Kaia almost scalded herself when she turned on the tap in the bathroom and HOT water came out. The poor girl did not realize that bathroom sinks could HAVE hot water!

Except for Doha, where for the 4 months of the year when no tap in the house ran anything BUT scalding hot water (due to the fact that for some reason, the water tanks outside the houses are all left uncovered in the Middle Eastern summer sun all day long), the only part of any of our homes that have actually had hot water have been the showers. Because they have the hot water heaters. Obviously.

Yes, up until now, our kids have known no world where sinks have more than one knob.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? If you are thinking that our kids had better prepare themselves for the day when they move to the US for university and realize that they are now the freaky Third Culture Kids who don't understand why the toilets don't all have bidet hoses attached, or know what that noisy machine that washes dishes is called, then yep- we're on the same wavelength!

Oh, well. Maybe they can live in the same dorm as the foreign exchange students.


11.) Children's Theater!

Within two days, we took Kaia to see The Nutcracker and "Junie B. Jones: Jingle Bells, Batman Smells", and it was amazing!

Arts! Theater! All that good stuff! In fact, there was an actual CHILDREN'S THEATER! I'd forgotten that such things existed.

Yes, we live overseas and so our kids experience a lot of culture in the sense of travel and seeing new places, but so far in our lives, there hasn't been much in the way of arts, music and theater for kids. That is truly one of the things that I appreciate whenever I go back to the US.

Our kids may be learning three different languages in school and meeting friends from all over the world, but they aren't going to the ballet on the weekends. They aren't listening to music concerts in the park. They aren't watching other kids bring their favorite books to life through drama. I'm not saying that these things don't exist ANYWHERE overseas, just not in the countries in which we've lived.

It's a trade-off that we make, but I must say that whenever we go back to the US from now on, I am going to make DAMN SURE that by the time we leave, our kids are so full of theater, drama and music that they'll be burping it up all the way on the plane ride home.


12.) Family

Obviously, this should be #1, but I am saving the best for last.  Even though we'd seen my parents twice since June, Skye is only 2, and so sometimes needs a reminder that Grandma and Grandpa aren't just those people who live in the computer. This is evidenced by the fact that she often stands in front of my computer, looking confused and asking, "Where did Grandpa go? Where is Grandma's picture?"

It is also nice to have the kids spend more time with my brother and sister-in-law, as well as their son, Sam. Now, I feel confident that whenever we talk about Uncle Liam and Aunt Pam, Kaia won't look at me with an expression that says, "I know you CLAIM that these people are real, but I'm not sure that I'm buying it!"

The downside to this being that Skye became completely fixated on my brother's cat, Pumpkin. Pumpkin is...challenged in social skills, let's say. I'm saying it that way because I am trying to be kind to animals. A person who was LESS kind to animals might describe Pumpkin with words that I am not entirely comfortable printing here, but since I AM kind to animals, I am giving Pumpkin the benefit of the doubt.

Anyway, whenever I talk about Aunt Pam and Uncle Liam, Skye just looks at me and says, "No, no Pumpkin...Hssssssssssss!" and makes a noise that no 2-year-old should ever make. At least no 2-year-old who is not possessed by an evil spirit, which I'm pretty sure she isn't, though on some days I am not 100% sure.


So, there it is: one three-week trip condensed down into 12 bullet points. And I'm exhausted just from writing it. If you're still reading this, then you have a longer attention span than I do and I applaud you.

Anyone got any highlights from YOUR winter holidays?

Hey, Winter...Remember Me?

This past Christmas, we decided to do something that we haven't done in five years: fly back to the US for Christmas.

I'm serious.

It all stemmed from Kaia watching numerous movies and television shows about winter, snow, etc. She has never seen snow and finally informed us that never taking her to see snow is tantamount to child abuse, so we relented.

We made the plans to go to Wisconsin in December and visit my family and do all of the wintery things that there are to do in a Midwestern winter, just to get it all out of her system, because I was pretty sure that after spending one Winter Break in a cold climate, we wouldn't be doing it again for....oh, about a million years.

In case you haven't been able to read the tone of this post, I am not a fan of winter. In fact, it could be said that winter and I are frenemies. Nope, not even frenemies, just straight-up enemies. There is a reason why I live in the tropics, people.

Knowing that Kaia gets whiny and complains about being cold in the air conditioning of the mall, I was pretty sure that her IDEA of winter was going to collide with the REALITY of winter in a way that could only end in tears. All of ours.

But, I decided that if winter was was she wanted, winter was what she'd get. So I booked the tickets and ordered the winter clothing. Snow suits were bought. Boots were bought. Thermal underwear was bought. Hats, mittens and scarves were bought. We were all set.

Except, of course, for the snow. We couldn't order that. I, using my awesome powers of deduction, figured that OF COURSE there would be snow in the Midwest in December. There would be nothing BUT snow! Snow everywhere! Snow aplenty.

On a side note, this reminded me of the time when we lived in the Middle East and bought our daughter a sandbox at a toy store. I asked the salesman if the store also sold sand to put in it, and he just looked at me in bewilderment, gestured with his arms and answered, "But...sand all around!"

I figured that even the mere mention of a concern that there wouldn't be any snow would result in the same look, the same gesture, and an answer of, "But...snow all around!"

Apparently, winter decided to repay my smack-talking by snubbing us and boycotting our visit completely. Well, not COMPLETELY- there was a light dusting on the ground when we landed in Chicago. It was enough for Kaia and my parents to build a mini-snowmanish-ish thing in the airport parking lot while waiting for us to pick up the rental car.

And on the last day of our visit, there was a bit more. Enough for Jabiz to take the kids to the park for an hour before returning in tears once the snow seeped into their mittens and boots and their hands and feet got the teeniest, tiniest bit cold.

But that was it- all we had to show for snow during a two-and-a-half week visit. While it was cold enough to put the coats, hats/mittens and thermal underwear to use (well, sort of. Skye refused to wear anything that might result in us actually looking like FIT parents who KNOW how to shield our child from the harsh elements, but Kaia wore hers. One out of two isn't bad, is it?), we didn't even take the tags off of the snow pants. The boots? Pristine condition.

As the days passed and no snow arrived, I realized that all of my visions of sledding, snow angels and snowball fights were going to be traded in for one small snowman in the airport parking lot. And that I was going to have to be GRATEFUL for that parking lot snowman memory that Kaia will carry around with her for years to come.

But that is fine, since after the park incident, Kaia declared that she is never going to winter again. It was a very special moment, when I got to be smug and proud at the same time.

 Seriously, winter? THIS? Is why we are not friends.

An Expat Mom Thanksgiving

**Note: Yes, I know this post is over a month late, but it's been sitting half-written in my Posts page and I just had to finally get it together and finish it!

I'm not big on Thanksgiving. Don't get me wrong- I am happy to celebrate it with other people if someone is organizing it. It's just that if I am left to it by myself, I'll usually skip it. After all, I'M not going to organize it, since we are vegetarian and therefore our meal would be woefully bereft of turkey and gravy.

Now, I may not have the best social skills in the world, but even I know that calling someone and saying, "Would you like to come  over for Thanksgiving? Oh, and could you bring the turkey?" is pretty bad form. I also don't have the nerve to call people and say, "Please come over for Thanksgiving and enjoy our lovely vegetarian lasagna!"

And while I know that it's POSSIBLE to create a turkey-like....THING out of tofu, just....no. Seriously. No.

So, if we are invited somewhere else, I will happily bring the pie and mashed potatoes, but otherwise....nah.

The past few schools in which we've worked have had a pretty large population of American teachers, so we've been in the habit of going to someone's house to celebrate. However, in our current school, we Americans are in the minority, so American Thanksgiving is not really on anyone's social calendar.

That's OK, because I know that I have plenty to be thankful for, and I am thankful for it everyday. So, on Thanksgiving, we worked, then went home and ate some pasta for dinner. It wasn't fancy, and it wasn't special, but I know enough from my 37 years alive to be thankful for it.

Life went on.

Then, the weekend after Thanksgiving, some friends invited us to brunch at a restaurant downtown. Now,  normally we don't go downtown very often, because in Jakarta, a simple jaunt downtown can result in being stuck in traffic for two to three hours. BUT, on the weekends, traffic usually isn't too bad, so once in a while, we'll venture on down.

Keep in mind that I said USUALLY. It USUALLY isn't too bad.

Obviously, on THIS particular Sunday, the word "usually" decided to pack up and take a holiday, because they'd closed some streets for some bike race and blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda...and there we found ourselves, sitting in traffic for 30 minutes....60 minutes...90 minutes....120 minutes...yep, I'm going to keep on going here...140 MINUTES!

Jabiz, in his obsession with documenting every second of our daily lives, was Tweeting the entire thing:

Here is the family BEFORE we started out on our adventure:

....AND here we all are about 90 minutes in:

Anyway, no only did we get stuck in what can only be described as the vehicular equivalent of hell, but we were also stuck on what is apparently The Road of Beggars. That is most likely not it's official name, but that is what it is known as to me, because there were nonstop, moving rows of people begging at the stopped cars.

This isn't unusual for Jakarta. At most stoplights, you will encounter a few people asking for money at cars- they'll play guitar, clap and sing, or just put their hands out. There are mothers with babies, little kids, old people, blind people, people with a physical disabilities, etc. Some are less aggressive and move on when you wag your finger at them, while others get right up, cup their hands around their eyes and stare into the car until you either give them something, or uncomfortably ignore them until the light turns green.

However, on this road, there was no stop to the begging. It was like a speed dating line- people would ask at a car, receive either money or the finger wave and the line would shift to the side and the next person would take their turn at the car.

So, for over an hour, we had people begging at our car windows nonstop. NONSTOP.

I will tell you, if you ever want to feel grateful about your life and everything that you have in it, you don't need to get together and have a big meal to do it (though, admittedly, that is the more enjoyable way to go about it), you just need to sit for an hour in traffic with a broad variety of people begging nonstop at your car window.

Because I? Don't think I will ever complain about not having something ever again. And I am sure as hell more thankful than ever for every single little thing that I am privileged to have.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Is This The Face...

Look at this face! Is this the face of a child who will not go to sleep until 9:30 pm, EVEN THOUGH it is obvious that she is super, super tired? Is it the face of a child who, in the 2.5 hour process of tiring herself out enough to finally fall asleep, tears her room apart, leaving it resembling the aftermath of an
F-4 tornado on a corn belt town? (Note: I will not compare it to an F-5 tornado, because I truly feel that Skye hasn't quite given us ALL that she is capable of yet)

I ask you, IS IT?

More importantly, is this the face of a chid who, after taking 2.5 hours to fall asleep, then wakes me up at 2:54 am and THEN stays awake until falling into a deep sleep at around 5:00 am, which coincidentally is the time when my alarm goes off to alert me to start the day?

Is it?

Not that I NEED more than 4 hours of sleep a night, but you know....it'd be nice.

Lastly, is this the face of a child who somehow mysteriously loses the ability to walk or speak the exact moment when we arrive at school, in front of all of our colleagues and students, and spends the next 10 minutes demanding to be carried to the playground and communicating in a series of loud shrieks? LOUD shrieks.

Just to clear up any misunderstanding or confusion, the answer is this: Yes. Yes it is.

Don't be fooled.

A Little Pick-Me-Up...

So, yesterday was a bit of a rough day. I've been sick all week with a sinus/cold/allergy thing that has made me miserable at times. And by "at times", I mean "all the freaking time". In addition, yesterday we had an all-day in-service at school that, given my current health status, lasted about 37 hours. Or at least it seemed that way.

You can only drink so many mugs of Emergen-C before you finally just want to crawl into bed and call it a day, you know?

Anyway, I came home to stir-crazy children who'd been cooped up in the house with the nanny all day and were more than slightly resembling wild monkeys. I tried to pull it together until their bedtime, and only the visions of pulling the covers over my head and whining shamelessly kept me from throwing them in bed fully-clothed and sans brushed teeth.

That is, until I DID get into bed and turned on the TV. I spent the next 30 minutes watching THIS, and it made me feel instantly better:

(Full disclosure compels me to admit that I (obviously) edited out part of this clip, as it involved a hitchhiker and a song about Jesus and marijuana. Not trying to alienate my religious friends here, people!)

I can't help it. I literally CANNOT stop myself from watching this clip at 15 minute intervals. Oh, and Jabiz is threatening to stab himself in the ears if I don't stop singing "Kiss From a Rose" at some point in the near future.

But I CAN'T! And that? Is the beauty of "Community".

The Joys of Parent/Teacher Conferences

Sooooooo...it is THAT time of year. If you are a parent of a school-aged child, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Midway through the first semester, you will inevitably be presented with an email or piece of paper that has a date and time on it which will ultimately determine your worth as a parent for months to come...maybe even the rest of the YEAR.

Well, not really. But it feels that way.

I'm talking about parent/teacher conferences. Literally, one fifteen-minute conversation that causes palms to sweat and anticipation to build for days before. And we're talking kindergarten here, people!

I don't usually worry TOO much about parent/teacher conferences because, due to my unique position as a teaching colleague in the same school, I have a pretty good idea of what is going on in the class and how Kaia is doing. Pretty good. But you never know.

Maybe her teacher doesn't tell me everything. Those tantrums she so freely throws at home when, god forbid, we cruelly give her oatmeal with raisins or dried fruit in it? Maybe she DOES throw them at school, too, and her teacher is too embarrassed to let us know. The arguments about...well, everything that keep going and going until finally one of us just snaps, "Because I SAID so, that's why!"? Maybe they AREN'T location-specific to our house.

Maybe.

Anyway, last week, we got the magical time and date and tried to quiz Kaia on exactly what kind of information we were likely to receive. She, of course, was convinced that there were going to be nothing but glowing accolades spoken in her presence, as she is clearly the nicest, smartest, most polite and helpful student in her WHOLE class.

I didn't suppose that we were going to be enlightened about her low self-esteem issues. I was pretty confident about that, in fact.

We got to the classroom right on time with Kaia in tow and proceeded to listen to her teacher rave about her for the next ten minutes. She can read! She can write! She participates well in class! She's helpful and compassionate to other students!

Yes, well, you know....we've raised her well. Clearly.

The teacher concluded the conference with a comment about how impressed she was one day when Kaia and her friend decided to open a restaurant in class, and even wrote menus themselves! THEY WROTE MENUS.

Glossing over the fact that clearly our family may spend too much time eating out and not enough eating healthy, home-cooked meals, we beamed with pride. Yes, our kid was innovative, imaginative and creative. Yes, yes...we know.

As a reward for her wonderful feedback, we took the kids out to dinner that night, and that sentence....should surprise exactly no one.  See previous paragraph.

Finally, I got around to asking Kaia exactly WHAT she and her friend included on their awesome menu, and she answered, "Pizza."

"OK, pizza, that's good! What else did you include?"

"Ummm...wine."

"Wine?"

"Yes."

"On your restaurant menu?"

"Yes, pizza and wine."

Crap.

I could feel my worth as a parent slightly lowering. Slightly. I was now feeling a bit less like The Parent of the Kid Who is an Awesome Reader and Caring Classmate, and more like The Parent of the Kid Who Puts Wine on the Class Menu.

Well, there's always next year.

Besides, who wants to eat in a restaurant that DOESN'T have wine on the menu, right?

Happy Birthday, Skye! (Or: The Unwelcome Arrival of the Terrible Twos)

These cupcakes were the highlight of Skye's year!

Well, you guys, it is official: we no longer have any babies in our house. We now officially are the proud exhausted parents of a "kid" and a toddler! Oh, yes, Skye's birthday arrived with a mixture of pride, excitement and a deep, pitted feeling of dread. Because we know. Yes, we know. This is our second child, we are no longer the naive, innocent parents that we once were, back when we honestly believed that life got easier as the kids got older.

You can laugh now. I'm laughing. And weeping.  At the same time.

We now know what other parents knew, those parents who looked at us with amusement and pity as we declared that Kaia was two! She was learning to talk! She was learning to do things by herself! Wasn't that great?

Wasn't it?

Those parents knew what we didn't- that life with a toddler gets a whole lot worse before it starts getting better. A. WHOLE. LOT.

Don't get me wrong- every time Skye says a new word, or is able to put together a sentence, my heart melts. Seriously, it melts. And I beam with pride when she carries her little stool over to the water cooler and gets herself a cup of water. My kid is amazing.

But she's also a toddler. Which means that along with the new words, sentences and cup-weilding abilities come other new tricks.

Like saying "no", for instance. And Skye likes to say "no". She likes it A LOT. She likes it so much that she practices saying it every chance she gets.

"Skyelar, please eat at least one bite of your food."

"No!"

"Skyelar, let's brush your teeth."

"No!"

"Skyelar, please don't completely humiliate Mummy and Daddy in the restaurant."

"No!"

And so on, and so on. You get the picture. She also enjoys combining this word with her newfound love for crossing her arms and scowling.

She has also introduced the word "why" into her everyday vocabulary.

"No, Skye, you can't play with my phone."

"Why?"

"Skye, don't pull the cat's tail."

"Why?"

Remember the arm-crossing and the scowling? Yeah, so do we.

It's awesome. I've become one of THOSE parents who bandy around phrases like, "Because I said so!" even though I swore- SWORE- I never would.

Also, what we didn't know back in the Time of Kaia was that when children turn two, they instantly develop a temporary case of Schizophrenia. Their personality completely splits in two...or three....or four.

I don't like to use words like "good" and "evil", so I'll just refer to Skye's different personalities as "agreeable", "disagreeable", "unreasonable" and "just completely batsh*t crazy".  This latter personality usually makes its appearance when she is tired, hungry, or out to brunch.

It is never dull in our house. Skye will share her orange with me, then scream when I eat it. She will ask for milk in the pink cup, then scream when we give it to her. She'll ask for a song, then scream when we play it. She'll ask to go on the swings, then scream when we try to push her. You're beginning to pick up on the pattern emerging here, right?

However, we will take this year of Terrible Twos and enjoy it while we can, because we are also wise to what comes next: the Thankless Threes, which builds on the Terrible Twos by adding the ability to reason and argue, along with a profound sense of entitlement into the mix, just to shake things up. You know, for fun.

So, Happy Birthday, Skyelar! You make our life wonderful and interesting everyday!

Time Flies When You're...Super Busy and Stressed!

Good lord, things have been CRAZY busy in our house this month...well, more like crazy AND busy! OK, more crazy than...well, you know.

I am right now AT THIS MOMENT waiting for Jabiz to return from his week-long class trip, which took him to the jungle on an amazing orangutan-watching trek. Great for him, right? YEP! But on this end? Not so much. Not so much that even  two glasses of wine and a WB marathon of Gilmore Girls can diminish the exhaustion from this week

Anyway, what have I been up to since the last time we spoke? Well, I have been spent two weeks on my own with the kids, and spent a week in Shanghai with the family and my parents for a training workshop. They had a great time, while Jabiz and I spent 3 days talking about unit planning and criterion-based assessments.

 During all of this bonding and travel time, I have learned many important life lessons, which I will happily pass along to you now. You're welcome!

Lesson #1: You actually CAN alienate an entire plane full of people before the last passengers have boarded.

This lesson was learned on our flight from Shanghai to Hong Kong, when Skye misunderstood my refusal to let her play with my phone ( as per FAA regulations) as complete mental and emotional trauma, and spent the 15 minutes between finding our seats and waiting for takeoff screaming on the floor. Everyone within 20 rows of us was exchanging nervous looks, clearly thinking, "Oh, god, THAT'S the kid who is going to ruin our flight!"

Luckily, she wore herself out in time for takeoff, and fell asleep soon after. So take THAT, everyone within 20 rows of us. That's right.

Lesson #2: Kids really, truly DO save their worst behavior for their parents.

It's like the extra added bonus of parenthood.  I learned this lesson after spending three days worrying that my parents would have a difficult time handling the frequent and inevitable tantrums that I was sure Skye would throw at least a dozen times a day while my parents were taking care of the kids during our workshops.

And everyday- EVERY. DAMN. DAY- I would go to their hotel room to pick up the kids and be told how wonderfully they behaved. No tantrums, they would tell me. None at all.

Seriously?

This would be followed, of course, by a series of shrill screams once Skye realized that the parents were back, and thus the tantrums could now begin! And begin they did.

Oh yes, they did. Sigh.

Lesson #3: When you have kids, a new restaurant in the mall is the greatest thing ever. No, no, maybe you don't understand- EVER!


A new Italian restaurant finally opened up in the mall near our house, and I swear to you, it has changed our lives! And yes, you did hear me correctly- a restaurant IN A MALL.

If you had told me when I was in my 20s and living in New York City, eating fabulous 2-hour meals in trendy restaurants every weekend with friends, that someday I would see a new restaurant in a mall and start drooling, I would have simply ignored you and your crazy, crazy statement. Because everyone knows that you don't respond to or provoke the insane.

But, whatever. There's a new restaurant, it's in a mall, and it serves ITALIAN food! That is a bit of a novelty here in my part of Jakarta. Yes, they have the typical takeaway pizza chains, like Dominoes and Pizza Hut, but no good Italian restaurants.

Italian restaurants mean pizza. They mean pasta. These are things THAT MY KIDS WILL ACTUALLY EAT, ya'll! It also serves fancy salads, and things like pumpkin risotto with gorgonzola sauce. Which means that we can go out for a meal and everyone is happy with the food- everyone!

I should also mention here that it also serves wine. Cheap wine. This may not be such a big deal to many of you, but when you live in a muslim country, a restaurant that has good food AND cheap wine is made of gold, or should at least be treated thusly.

This restaurant has been open for about a month, and already the wait staff recognizes us when we walk in. About 3 times a week. Minimum.

Lesson #4- Chinese people love themselves some little blond Western kids.


If you had been in our vicinity as we walked around Shanghai, you might have mistakenly thought that Brangelina was in town. Nope, that was just us, surrounded by groups of Chinese people waving camera and phones around, trying to get pictures of our kids. It's happened to us before in Asia, having strangers come up and take pictures of our kids, but not in such large crowds as in Shanghai.

There is something flattering yet slightly creepy about seeing entire families pose one by one with your kids. Some even tried to pick up Skye, until she unleashed her Inner Demon that she usually saves just for us and wailed at the top of her lungs.

They were quite the hit, though Skye has more of a penchant for it than Kaia does. She would walk by, waving at people and calling out greetings, while Kaia would stay by my side, clutching onto my leg. The crowds would usually disperse after five minutes or so, at times to be replaced by others.

I should move them to China and have them become Supermodels, because right now that's the only way in hell we are going to pay for college.

Lesson #5: As soon as my husband comes back from one trip, there is a very, very good chance he will turn around and leave again, just as I've gotten used to being in a two-parent household again.


This past week, Jabiz had to go out of town AGAIN, this time with the grade 9 students on the Week Without Walls trip that the entire middle and high school went on. I stayed home with the grade 6 students, who hung around school for a few days.

Which was awesome, because it meant that I got to be at school all day with the students, then go home at 4:00 to feed my kids and put them to bed, and then rush back to the school for the evening activities until 10:00.

This? Was not so easy. This was much harder than when Jabiz usually goes out of town, and we have a  normal routine. This was like Single Momdom Plus.

And yes, I  know that many single moms work more than one jobs and have those days on a regular basis. And yes, I have respect for them tenfold. Hundredfold. Infinityfold.

Lesson #6: One phone call can make you feel like the worst mother in the world.


So, going back to these class trips, Jabiz was in the jungle with his students and therefore unable to call or Skype us all week.

You can imagine how well that went over with the kids. Because if there is one thing that we can always count on with them, it is that whichever parent is not around is the ONLY parent that they want. At least they are consistent with that.

Anyway, by Wednesday, Kaia was getting whiny and clingy and why wasn't daddy calling?? Why wasn't he Skyping us like he usually did? I tried my best to explain, but Kaia is only five, so her understanding of technology and satellites and signals are a bit lacking.

On Wednesday night, Kaia and I were in bed reading when my phone rang. It was my Assistant Principal, letting me know that she really needed me to email her something important straight away. Since I was the only teacher who stayed home from the class trip due to having children, I was the point person for handling any needs that came up. I told her that I would have it to her in 10 minutes.

Obviously, as soon as I hung up, chaos ensued.

Kaia thought that the phone call was Jabiz, so when I hung up and she realized that it wasn't, there was a meltdown of nuclear proportions. She was lying in bed screaming and crying, "Daddy! I want my daddy!" while I frantically tried to find the document to send to my AP. "Kaia, "I called out, "I'll come in and talk to you about this in a few minutes, but I just really, really have to get this done first!"

I don't think anyone will be surprised to hear at this point that our super-slow internet was even slower than usual that night, and NOTHING would send. From ANY of my four email accounts. Nothing.

I cursed. I cursed some more. I had four different windows open with four different email accounts, pushing Send over and over with nothing but the frustration of watching the spinning wheel of death as a result.

The screaming continued. The crying continued. The promising to come in as soon as I could get the damn document to send for god's sake continued.

I finally turned off the modem and spent five agonizing minutes waiting for the yellow light to turn green, which it finally did. After a few more minutes, I got the document to send and was so busy throwing myself back onto the couch with a sigh of relief that I didn't notice that there was silence in the air.

I went into the bedroom to talk to Kaia and calm her down and found her asleep. My daughter had cried herself to sleep. You could still see the tear marks on her face, and every few second she would catch her breath in her sleep. I honestly do not remember the last time that I felt so badly.

One phone call, ONE, can make you feel like the world's most awful parent. And welcome to motherhood!

Lesson #7- Moms just cannot rock the light pink ballet flats.


I love shoes, especially ballet flat. I have long since given up on wearing heels or anything that I cannot stand in for long periods of time. I know that there are plenty of Yummy Mummies out there who still manage to wear things like skirts and high heels and makeup, but I am just not one of them. And I am OK with that.

But I do love ballet flats. I bought a new pair of light pink ones, delighting in how cute they look with green cargo pants AND dress pants. They are shiny and delicate-looking...or at least they WERE. Until I wore them around my children.

My beautiful pink ballet flats are now sullied with little black footprints where my kids have stepped on them or stood on them. It took about two days. Fortunately, I wasn't surprised.

I just can't have nice things.

Lesson #8: Husbands have no idea.


I think that Jabiz has a vague notion of what it is like to stay home alone with the kids for a week, but you really can't know unless you are here. It's unfathomable, really.

So, obviously, what happens whenever he goes out of town is that the kids get progressively clingy, whiny and generally out of sorts as the week goes on. And I mean MUCH more than usual.

And obviously, I inform Jabiz of this every chance I get when he calls or Skypes. Every chance. I am not even embarrassed about that fact. I swear, he'll be telling me how tired he is from nonstop presenting and running a cohort for 10 hours a day, and I'm like, "Yeah, well, at least you aren't here taking care of our kids by YOURSELF!"

I've mentioned before what an awesome wife I am, right? I'm pretty sure that I have.

And OBVIOUSLY, as soon as he comes back, the kids are so, so happy to see him that they magically bounce back into their cheery-ish, normal selves, and he's all, "What do you mean, it's hard to be home alone with them? They're not that bad!"

Do I even need to say anything more?


OK, well, there are still MORE life lessons that I've learned this month (wow, I hadn't realized what an educational month this has been!), but I will continue them in Part 2, in order to spare you all another 30 minutes of reading. You're welcome.

                              Tell me some life lessons that YOU have learned lately!

Yep...Here We Are Again!

Once again, my husband has gone off to present at a conference, this time in Shanghai. He will be gone for almost a week, otherwise known as a month in The Land of Outnumbered Parents.

I got a head start on being Extra, Extra Organized, which is the mode that I must go into whenever Jabiz leaves town. So, on Sunday, I ironed and hung up in my closet complete outfits for the week, coupled with matching accessories.

I was clearly not thinking ahead, though, as I planned to wear white pants today. Why wouldn't I wear white pants? I wear white pants almost everyday! Well, it turns out the reason NOT to wear white pants this week is that I have to take the kids to class alone, so when Skye wants to be picked up and carried, I'm the only one to do it.

Needless to say, within a matter of exactly 47 seconds, the ironed, put-together and matching outfit that had looked so fresh and crisp on me a mere 30 minutes earlier was now sporting two toddler-sized shoe prints on each thigh, as well as about three dozen wrinkles in my linen top from carrying all of the school and lunch bags in addition to Skye.

Fresh and crisp? Not so much anymore. More like wilting and raggedy. Fortunately, only about 400 people were going to be seeing me all day, so....there's that.

Hold on for a second while I go and switch all the pants on the remaining hangers with black pairs...OK.

Not that anyone noticed in the slightest what I was wearing, since they were too distracted by Skye's phenomenal tantrum that was thrown on the playground when I committed the unthinkable sin of *gasp* trying to PUSH HER ON THE SWING! Apparently, the swing was too low to the ground, which resulted in her having to *gasp again* HOLD HER FEET UP while swinging.

This was absolutely unacceptable to Skye. And she was going to let everyone know that. Every. Last. Person.

There really is nothing that gives you more of a sense of dignity and pride than carrying your screaming child to the Time Out corner while you are AT YOUR JOB. This is seriously one of the downsides of teaching in the same school that your children attend. It's usually an ideal situation. When they are good, anyway. When they do cute things, like sing in assemblies and run around in their tutus for their after-school ballet classes. THEN everyone tells you how adorable your children are.

When they are in the throes of a wretched, sense-deadening tantrum? There are only quiet stares and soft, sympathetic noises.

Anyway, the tantrum ended. Eventually. And we could begin our day.

Kaia had her first soccer practice today, and I promised her that I would cut short my afterschool meeting in order to have time to watch the second half of practice. Needless to say, I ended my meeting at exactly 3:30, grabbed my camera and sprinted over the the elementary gym.

Just in time  to see her wipe out when she tripped over the ball while running too quickly and began sobbing uncontrollably. I saw the coach making sure that nothing was broken or sprained, and was inclined to give her a few minutes to see if she would shake it off and keep going with the practice.

However, this apparently was NOT the course of action that the other mothers would have taken, because the looks that they gave me sent me slinking in shame into the gym. Where I wiped off the tears and fell straight into the trap of 5-year-old manipulation when Kaia shakily asked me if she could get ice cream on the way home.

Obviously, I said yes. Because I'm NOT a monster. Do you hear that, Other Mothers? NOT A MONSTER!

Skyelar decided to continue her screaming tantrum of death the second the door shut behind the nanny on her way out. I'm still unclear of exactly what the hell happened, but from what I can decipher, Skye did not want milk in the pink cup. Or she did. I have no effing idea, all I know is that everything I did was met with a response in the form of a high-pitched shriek  and a full-body shake. Which was sometimes accompanied by the throwing of her entire body onto the ground.

Which was, of course, the perfect time for a Skype call with Jabiz, during which he gave us a virtual tour of the 2-room suite in which he was put up. Yes, TWO ROOM SUITE. Fortunately, the internet cut out during the tour of the Awesome, Awesome Bathroom Complete With Walk-in Closet, or I may have gone into his closet and started cutting one leg shorter than the other on all of his pants.

Mercifully, the aforementioned events of the day culminated with a quick and easy bedtime, and by 7:30 I was staring at the ceiling and trying to forget that I have ears.

OK, so Day One is down, only five more to go...

Sweet, Sweet Singapore...

So we just had a week-long holiday to celebrate Eid al Fitr, and we decided to go and visit friends in Singapore. Singapore, I should add, is a glorious 90-minute flight from Jakarta, which is good because we quickly discovered that the secret formula for making a 90-minute flight seem like a 90-hour-flight is as follows:

2 hour delay + 2 overtired and hungry kids - 1 decent meal of any sort

I really don't think I need to go into detail about the flight, but just to REALLY paint a vivid picture, I'll just ask if you've ever held  a feral cat who's just consumed a Venti-sized triple espresso on your lap for 90 minutes? A cat who can scream loudly? Like, LOUDLY? Because then you would know.

Anyway, we made it to Singapore and spent a fantastic four days visiting with good friends. And just in case you have been thinking about a trip there with your family, here is my list of some entertaining things to do in Singapore with kids:

1.) Bask in your 5-year-old's complete and utter amazement at being able to brush her teeth before bed using WATER FROM THE TAP! Poor Kaia stood in the bathroom for over five minutes, waiting for me to bring her a cup of purified water in which to dip and rinse her toothbrush. When I explained that no, no- you can drink the water from the sink here, her response was? "Wow!"

2.) Confound your children by actually WALKING as a means of transportation, rather than driving 30 minutes just to get anywhere. We took the kids to a few parks, just to walk around, and Kaia kept looking around and asking, "But where are we GOING? Why are we walking?", followed by the inevitable, "I'm tired of walking!" about 10 minutes into our stroll.

Please understand that this is not the result of bad or negligent parenting, but rather of having spent the past 4 years living in places that are as opposite of pedestrian-friendly as you can possibly get. Sometimes we get the kids out to walk around our compound, but we are usually chased back inside by the swarms of Possibly-Dengue-Carrying mosquitoes that love to envelope us as soon as we walk out the front door.

3.) Walk past a candy store that has a front display of Marshmallow Peeps. Marshmallow Peeps! Buy one, get TWO free! Decide not to buy any. Seriously? Seriously. Get home and spend first few nights back wishing that you had Marshmallow Peeps. Just one Peep. Sigh.

4.) Validate your decision to not have any more children, because if your friends' baby, who is quite possibly the cutest baby in the world, does not make your ovaries tingle, then nothing will. Bring on the vasectomy!

5.) Be grateful that your husband has finally seemed to accept- nay, EMBRACE- your food-hoarding tendencies by allowing you to go to the grocery store to stock up on things that cannot be found at home without even ONE conversation that involves him saying, "But WHY do we need ten boxes of chocolate pudding to last us the rest of the semester?" or "Why can't we eat it until it's gone, enjoy it, and then be happy that we had it and move on?"

You know what kind of talk that is? That is just crazy talk, that's what that is.

6.) Watch your daughter tremble with the anticipation of giving a street performer some money, because he is actually out there attempting to make a living with an obvious, hard-earned talent instead of forcing a chained monkey to ride a rocking horse while wearing a doll's mask.

And if that is not the freakiest thing that I have ever written, then I just don't know what is.

Anyway, it was a fabulous four days, and I look forward to returning again soon! Oh, and in three weeks, we are taking the kids on an 8-hour flight to Shanghai for a training workshop, so be ready to deal with THAT post...

Things that I Am Sure Of...

Things have been CRAZY busy with the start of the new school year! Seriously, it's like I blink and the next thing I know, 3 days have passed and I have no idea where the time went.  Then I blink again, and it's a week later.

Sometimes life just gets in the way, you know?

Anyway, as 5-year-olds are wont to do, Kaia has been asking a lot of bizarro questions lately, and I hear the words, "I don't know" or "I'm not sure" coming out of my mouth more often than not. It started me wondering exactly what the hell it is that I DO know.

So, after several hours of deep thinking (OK, well, maybe 30 minutes of surface-level thinking), I have come up with some things of which I am absolutely, positive sure:

1.) I will never wear skinny jeans- EVER. I don't care if I lose 30 pounds and go back in time 15 years. That goes double for jeggings.

2.) On that note, I will never, EVER understand why one earth a an 18-24 month-old would need to wear skinny jeans, either. But there must be some need, because I have seen them a disturbing number of times on the toddler rack in clothing stores. And I'm looking at you, Gap.

3.) I will most likely never fly in first class on an international flight, no matter how badly I really, really, REALLY want to. This is because whenever I travel, I am accompanied by feral children, coupled with the fact that I am usually wearing flip flops and dirty t-shirts.

Feral children and dirty t-shirts are frowned upon in first-class, I would guess. At least I've never seen any in the first-class lounge as I press my nose against the window and peer in longingly.

4.) I will never enjoy getting my hair washed in a salon for 30+ minutes. Seriously, what is up with that? WHY does my hair require shampooing 5 times, with scalp massages in between, followed by about 3 different conditioners (AGAIN, with scalp massages in between)?

I know some people really like this part of the hair salon experience, they feel like it's an indulgence, but I just want to get my hair done and get the hell out. Whenever I am certain that the shampoo cannot possibly last any longer and then I hear that familiar sounds of the pump bottle YET AGAIN, I seriously have to stop myself from screaming.

Maybe this is more of an Asian thing, but it drives me mad. I always time it, and my longest shampoo once lasted 35 minutes- 35 MINUTES! If I sat down and thought about the things that I could get done in 35 minutes, I'd probably start crying. So let's not go there.

5.) Losing weight will never be important enough to me to give up regular milk in my latte. I give up a lot of things for the sake of losing weight, but to me, a latte with skim milk just doesn't taste the same. And for $4, those lattes better be tasting the best that they possibly can.

6.) Waking up before the sun to exercise is NEVER as fulfilling as sleeping in. Period.

7.) If there is a certain food that I still, at 37 years of age, gag whenever it passes my mouth, the chances are pretty damn good that I am NEVER going to like that food. No matter how many people tell me, "Oh, you just haven't tried it THIS way..." or "I'm going to make it THAT way and you'll love it!"

No, no I won't. Just trust me on that.

8.) My pre-baby bikinis are more than likely going to sit, unworn in the darkest depths of my closet for about 2-3 more years, until I finally give in and realize that no amount of ab exercises is ever going to bring them out of hibernation and get rid of them once and for all.

For the next 2-3 years, however, I will fight that realization and convince myself that the 3 minutes of ab exercises that I do per day will totally, totally rock those bikinis....someday.

How about you? What are some things that you are absolutely sure of?