Can you believe there is a forest in Doha? A real live forest where trees grow and where birds live and thrive. I was outside the forest in the desert. The searing heat was weighing down on my eyelids. I thought the furrow in my brow would be baked in place. I really need to buy myself some sunglasses, but I abhor accessories. Anyway, I stepped into the forest and I was in a whole new world. Suddenely, I felt a magic carpet of leaves crunching under my feet. I almost needed a lamp to see, it was so dark. Anyway, I'm so uplifted by this new discovery of mine. Finally, a place I can take my kids to run around in. A place for them to climb trees in and be just as crazy as their insane cousins. A place for them to get dirty instead of sandy. Gosh, I am so tired of sweeping up the sand. I much prefer the dirt because I can see it.
Atticus helps me with baby Hector. An excellent big brother. His big brotherly kindness has really blossomed this time around. He could care less about Sherman's well being. Cinci is just "annoying". But Hector has "fat thighs" and fluffy hair and "looks at me the most" Atticus says.
Every night Jonathan and I look forward to the time when the kids are in bed, sound asleep. We love them so much, don't get me wrong. But it's so nice to talk to eachother without having to be interrupted a million times. I'm sure every parent looks forward to that time of day. When there is nothing good to watch on TV we put on our usual backup movie. Pride and Prejudice, the BBC version. Sometimes Hector will want to watch it with us, which pleases me because every boy should be raised on a healthy dose of Jane Austen, don't you think? I'm a firm believer that a boy raised on P & P, as we call it, will be able to communicate better with women. My brothers love it and my husband loves it. I asked my neighbor, who is an american man of 40 years, if he knew what Pride and Prejudice was. No was his reply. I must be firm in my conclusion then that there is something greatly amiss in todays world. Don't all men wish to communicate better with their women? Well, a little P & P will certainly remedy those troubles. So, mothers of boys, please do your sons a service, and start them young. They will thank you for it later. And, mothers of girls, in 20 years or so, four of the silliest boys in whatever city we live in at that time, may be calling on your daughters in a something like a barouche. As for the above photo, don't Lydia's boobs look huge from this angle?