Zion

We just got back from Zion National Park and we are still alive. This was our first camping trip with Helen and we were a bit worried about getting no sleep. That wasn't a problem though.
Here's a picture of Helen just after we got out of the car. She was as happy as she could be to have new things to look at. I think she'll be a Nature Girl, like me. Well, I like to fancy myself a Nature Girl but I am a bit of a wimp when it comes to bugs with long legs. Spiders and beetles. Yuck! I can look at them but if you get them near me, "No, Gracias Senor!!!!!!"
I love caterpillars though. The cottonwood trees were covered with these net/nest type things full of caterpillars. The kids had so much fun with their pet caterpillars. They tried to save as many as they could because they were covering the ground by the visitor's center. You really could not take a step without squishing one or two or three of them. It was quite sad. They were friendly little things.
Helen lived up to her other nickname "The Best Girl in the World" given to her by Cinci. She was such a great hiker. We left our campsite around 9 or 10 in the morning and came back around 6 each day and she didn't complain. Just as long as she could eat she was fine.
The Virgin River was a nice place for the kids to throw rocks in. I love rivers. Sometimes parents take their kids to playplaces in the fast food restaurants to get a moment of peace. That's what you get. A moment of peace. Then they come to you asking for something. Rivers are better for my boys. The can throw rocks as long as they want. There were no other people around. It was great! Of course we had to keep our eye on Hector just in case he got washed away, but other than that Jonathan and I got to rest a hundred feet away in a little grove of shade with Helen.
Here's Jonathan, Hector, and Atticus one morning. I got to sleep in the van with Helen and two of the boys were up in the pop top, and he got to be outside with those two. The weather was so perfect for sleeping under the stars. We even brought Atticus' telescope to look at the stars but it broke on the drive to Zions thanks to our oldest's hyperactivity! Oh well. It looks cool in our campsite at least.
Here's Jonathan and Helen in front of some of those steep, red, cliffs by the temple of Sinawava. Really striking and breathtaking. Whenever the kids ask me what the word breathtaking means I remind them of an experience we had just last Christmastime. We were driving south to Newport Beach and we were making good time. We saw the sign for Kolob Canyons, which is part of Zion National Park, just south of Cedar City. I had been to Zions before when I was a teenager but I didn't remember anything about it. So, we decided to drive in a little way just to see what it looked like. The mountains from I-15 look really boring if you look east. How pretty could Kolob Canyons be? Really? No skin off our backs if it was boring hills with slight shrubbery. So we drove in, passed the visitors center, followed the curvy road for a few minutes and BOOM! My hands grabbed the sides of my seat. Red rock mountains dusted with snow loomed before us all of a sudden. "Oh my gosh!!!!!!!!!!!" I basically screamed. Atticus turned around in his seat, "What Mom? What's wrong?" He faces the back of the car in our van so he couldn't see what I was seeing. Sherman rarely notices anything outside the car so of course he didn't react. Cinci might have noticed but had no comment. It was like the moment in Neverending Story where Atreyu rides the luck dragon around the pieces of the destroyed Fantasia in search of the ivory tower, when it finally appears in the movie, the music comes on real strong and the camera zooms in on the ivory tower. It was just like that moment, except it was at Kolob Canyons.

So, Zion was really fun. We had an enjoyable camping trip with daddy. The last night of our camping trip, none of the boys wanted to sleep in the pop top or the van. They all wanted to sleep out with Jonathan even though there wasn't enough room for all of them on the mattress. Jonathan is a hardworking daddy. I'm sure glad that Helen is probably our last kid because Jonathan looks pretty beat most of the time. He really gives life his all. I'm so glad he joined me on this camping trip. I think its one of the best activities for our boys.

California in my most excellent Eurovan!

Jonathan returned to Qatar last week and instead of staying in Orem, Utah all by myself, with the kids, I opted to drive to California and stay with the grandparents instead. Jonathan drove us down to California in our most excellent Eurovan in record time. We spent a day running errands before we sent him off to Doha to spend a week conducting tests to use for his research topic for his TESOL thesis. Jonathan is really really exhausted lately. He comes home and basically lives on Cheeze-its or Ritz crackers or Goldfish crackers. Of course he's droopy! Anyway, I told him his topic for the thesis was awesome and I think his proposal was genius. He prepared a three section test to give the students. They didn't have to do the tests. It was all voluntary. But since he knows the Qatari's very very well, he brought a bargaining item of great worth. He purchased the latest IPad and offered it in a raffle for those students who completed all three sections of the test. You may wonder why the Qatari's would want the latest IPad if they are so rich. Well, they can't readily get everything as fast as we can. The students performed well and he was able to return home with a bulging backpack full of tests. Yay! My advice for anyone doing a thesis in anything. . ."Don't bother doing a dumb crap thesis! If that's what you're planning then just don't bother doing anything. Give up now!" I think it would be embarrassing to do less than your best and then have someone read it five years down the road and talk to you about it. Jonathan was a bit drained when thinking about going the extra mile, I mean the extra 8,077 miles to get a decent thesis done. I think he's happy about it now. Meanwhile, he was missing a lot of super charged energy in the form of four little boys. The one girl isn't super charged. She's calm and sweet.
The first day Jonathan was gone it rained. But by Monday when it cleared up, we were at the beach. My beach, aka Natural Bridges. It really is my beach though. If you don't believe me ask to see pictures. I've got some of when I was about four years old at this same beach. It is really the coolest beach ever. It's got everything. Monarch butterflies in the winter, millions of them. It's got excellent tide pools. I just love it so much that I never go anywhere else when I'm home. Maybe, just maybe, there are other cool beaches out there, but I've never had the desire to find out because I'm so happy at my beach. The kids dug a hole with Grandma Dryg and then I buried them the best I could later on. They are trapped. Can't you just feel that harnessed energy! Especially from Atticus. Sherman and Cinci just look happy. They're thinking, "Hey, we're in the sand!"
We spent a lot of time with both sets of Grandparents. Helen hasn't really had much time with my parents though since my mom just recently had a knee replacement. This was their chance to actually meet her. She doesn't say much. She kinda just sits there. I have great hopes for her though. I hope that she was watching Hector when he hit Grandpa's big screened TV several times. I hope she noticed the way Grandpa suddenly cried out, "Don't do that you little . . . ." and then fell silent. I hope she will never commit that shocking crime that her older brother committed because I just can't take it. Can I just say how much I hate TV's? I hate them so much. I'm sure every person that looks on me and my brood probably thinks the TV is my best friend. However, they are mistaken. Very mistaken. If you look at the picture below, you will notice that our most excellent Eurovan does not have a built in DVD player. And if it did, I would rip it out. (Well, maybe I wouldn't, but the strong part of me would.)Most of me tries to live in an era that is not my own. Heck, I grew up with TV. A lot of it. I used to get up early before elementary school just to watch some of my favorite cartoons. Some Saturdays were spend watching back to back taped movies. Two or three. I'm not proud of that. But I think I turned out okay. Okay. Not great. Okay. I'm starting to sound like I'm confessing a terrible sin. Funny. Well, what I really want to see in my children is friendship. I want them to interact with eachother and I don't mean fighting. So when I see my kids playing a card game in the back of the van, my heart warms and I start to hear the words, "There is beauty all around, when there's love at home . . ." in my head.
Of course this is a totally posed picture but I have to tell you that they did play several rounds of Go Fish without cheating or screaming at eachother. Cinci didn't even eat the cards. And the whole time they were learning the names of Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes. That's what the deck of cards was, titles of different nursery rhymes. Oh, it warmed the cockles of my heart! (I'm starting to sound like my Grandma.)And to clearly explain myself, I don't like TV in general because my children can't hear me when they are watching it. They also forget that they have a family or other duties in life. They become zombies. I call watching TV "Zombification". I must confess that we do not have a TV free home though. We do watch one or two movies a week and a few kids shows when needed. I don't care if they watch it sometimes. I guess I use it more as a help for me than anything else. I wait until we've done our to-do list and then they can choose a show. Then I can take a shower or cook or sit on my butt and hum. I guess TV isn't that bad after all.

Jonathan is gone again. He's off to Ohio and New York to visit schools he's considering attending. I think the TV and I are going to become friends again real soon.

What's going on?

I guess when your children are young, everything is soooooo busy. There is so much to do in life. There are so many things I want my children to experience, and a lot of these things they can and should only do when they are children. Really, can they go trick or treating when they are big teenage boys? Would they really be interested in starting piano lessons when they are teenagers? Maybe, but will we have money for the lessons in ten years. Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, I feel like I'm racing against the clock to make sure my kids do all they can while they can. I try to not be overly stressed about it though. There is only so much we can afford, and only so much we have time for. We took the kids out past Delta, Utah to dig for trilobites. We were quite successful but we found out that one of our children didn't like it. He wasn't too good at perservering, especially when he saw that other people were finding more than he was. I was so mad that we'd drivin so far so he could have this experience and he ended up hating it. But of course my husband talked some sense to me and reminded me that our job as parents is to expose them to things. If they like it, great. If they don't, they don't. There's nothing we can do to force them to like something. I hate shrimp! There's nothing anyone can do to make me like it. I wish my son liked hunting for trilobites, but he doesn't. Oh well. I'll live.

This particular child received a rock tumbler last Christmas. A really nice rock tumbler. He finally pulled it out and threw some dusty rocks into it. You can see them at the beginning of this post. I couldn't figure out how to move the picture down to this part. Anyway, I was really impressed with how they turned out. At least he likes to tumble rocks. Who wouldn't? They turned out so nice and smooth and pretty. I remember the yearly road trips my family and I would take from California to Utah every year. We'd have to stop for gas several times throughout the trip. In the Sierra Nevadas and in Nevada. In the gas stations and casinos, where my dad would sometimes stop to throw away his money, there would almost always be a big box of gems and geodes and things of that nature. You could fill a little leather bag full of the "treasure" and feel like you owned a bit of the Old West. I saw my kids burying their hands in piles and piles of polished rocks at the "This is the Place" monument in Salt Lake City. I understand that desire. I used to love the feel of smooth, polished rocks.

Halloween came finally. After four years out of the country, we were finally able to celebrate this holiday in the USA. My husband told me, "If you go into labor on Halloween, I'll be so mad!" I was a bit worried that I might screw it up for everyone. Fortunately, our baby stayed put and I was able to experience the stress only a mother feels, the day before Halloween. I think I should now be grateful that I've been out of the country for four years. It's saved me from having to scramble around finding costumes for my kids who become more demanding every day. I think I bought my first Halloween costume this year because I didn't want to "deal with it". I did, however, make my four year old's costume because he wanted to be R2D2 and I saw a really cool R2D2 helmet that a girl made online. I copied it and he was very pleased. They got tons of candy and I guess in the end I was happy for them. I remember the day after Halloween when I was a kid. My brothers and I would always get together and have a big trading time in front of the TV. I'm sure most American kids whose parents let them eat candy did too. Why keep a Baby Ruth if your brother wants to give you his skittles?

Our baby girl finally came on the 2nd of November. I won't bore anyone with the whole story. In short, she came on her own, she came quickly, and we have all adjusted nicely to this new addition. Her name is Helen Kleio McCollum. I know, it's not unique enough. But for us, it is. Helen of Troy is pretty unique, and Kleio is the Muse of History. Google it.

Plus, Helen of Troy and Hector of Troy were brother and sister in law (if you consider Helen and Paris husband and wife, which they weren't really) Hector, as you see above, is growing nicely. Especially in the chin area. He and his little sister will get along wonderfully we hope. Here he is reading train books with daddy. His favorite word is "Choo choo".

What a pair! Atticus and Sherman started piano lessons back in September and they are learning so much. They had their first piano recital last week and did great.

Helen made her first friend around her three week mark. What she likes about R2D2 is that he's soft, he likes to beep, and he stays in one place. Cinci is nice enough to share him with her.

Here's my nephew eating by himself at Thanksgiving. All the other kids were running around the church playing games and trying not to scream too loud. For the last four years we've celebrated Thanksgiving abroad. I think while we were in Turkey we didn't even celebrate it once. We were so poor I didn't have the energy nor means to do anything different than we normally did which was make a meal with what we already had in the little fridge. I don't even think a bird the size of a turkey would have fit in the fridge we had at the time. In Qatar the first year we celebrated famously. I remember I was pregnant with Hector, the kids wove placemats, and we bought orange plastic chalices to drink from. I made two whole chickens instead of a turkey and we drank shirley temples. It was very fun and the kids enjoyed it a lot. We actually talked about what we were grateful for before we took our first bites. Then last year in Qatar I made our family eat only the things they had to eat on the Mayflower for three days before Thanksgiving. Then we went to the meal that the church planned and had Thanksgiving dinner there. My kids didn't enjoy it as much as the previous year but I think they were grateful they could eat whatever they wanted again. This year there were so many festivities going on that I couldn't arrange to have the three days before Thanksgiving be devoted only to the Mayflower diet. We only did one day and that was enough. I made up another batch of hard tack, we ate our oatmeal made with water (yuck), and instead of frying fish fillets for everyone, most of us had fish sticks. I even splurged and let those who wanted lemon have it on their fish. We enjoyed Thanksgiving with our family. Aunt Wendy, who isn't really my aunt but my sister in law, went all out as usual. She loves to cook and try new recipes. Every obscure word involved with cooking or names of foods that are rarely eaten in the United States I learned from her. I suppose she deserves a special nickname. Perhaps "Sunset Lady" would be okay. I'll have to consult my husband for more ideas. Anyway, because of Sunset Lady, we did not have to slave away in the kitchen that day. We arrived at the church, which is where we had our meal, and everything was already there. Perfect! It was nice to be around family for a change.

Here's Great Grandma Hill with little Helen. There are 92 years in between these two ladies. Words can't express what thoughts come to mind when I look at this picture (and I'm not trying to be sappy). I guess I'll let the picture speak for itself.

Beets and Arrows

It's been way too long since my last post and since I do not keep a journal, I feel guilty that I haven't written. I need to write more often. I like remembering. My third son, Cinci, has an excellent memory and lately has been telling me the minute details of events in the past and then asking, "Do you remember? Do you remember?" Of course I don't. I'm Christine. The woman who can't remember the plot of a romantic comedy seen in the last year. It's kind of sad that my memory is so very bad. That's why this blog is so important to me. I must press on.
Our summer came and went too quickly! We left Doha the very same day Jonathan finished work, stayed with friends in London for five days, Jonathan took Atticus and Sherman to Paris on the TGV, and then we flew to San Francisco. We stayed with the parents for ten days in California and then drove to Utah to finally settle in a home. Not our home, but a home that will be ours for the next year. We camped as soon as we could and then on the 20th of June real life started. Jonathan is at school and work and I am home with the kiddos trying to make life interesting.
This evening while Jonathan put the kids to bed I went outside and shot some arrows at our stack of straw that we hauled home for just that purpose. When it got too dark to aim decently, I decided to weed our small vegetable garden. Then I became inspired to plant some more seeds in the empty spots where nothing was growing. Beets. I needed beets. I will definitely have to make some borscht this fall. This is actually my first vegetable garden and I know I'm not supposed to plant seeds in the ground this late in the summer. But hey! I had them and I had some empty spots. If they don't grow, oh well. If they grow and then get frozen, oh well. You live, you learn. Who knows if I'll ever have a chance to plant a vegetable garden ever again in my life? Jonathan and I could go anywhere next summer. Anywhere! What if I'm living in a high rise apartment building in the middle of Dubai? What are my chances of gardening there? As I look at my small garden I feel pretty satisfied that its still alive. I drive by neighbors who have massive, very symmetrical gardens, with rows and rows of crops. It's intimidating! When I see them just growing under the sun I think that I should be trying harder. But something that I've learned in my life that may only apply to me, Christine McCollum, is that I should never, absolutely never, NEVER, bite off more than I can chew. For the sake of my own sanity, and especially the sake of my dear husband and children. Things never turn out right if I try to do too much stuff. I think that's one reason why I never do my hair in the morning, rarely wear make up, make very simple meals, spend no time decorating my home, and am a lamoid when it comes to fashion. None of those things would factor into a Christine sized bite.
So, just for the record, Sherman lost his first tooth sometime between June 2 and now (I have a bad memory), Cinci got his first set of stitches last week because he walked into a wooden balcony support at the neighbors house, and we found out that we are having a baby girl in late October.

Anything can happen!

I've been thinking a lot about the time I spend with my kids. What is it spent doing? This weekend my husband traveled to a TESOL conference and left me alone to fend for myself. Of course, two days is nothing compared to a couple of weeks, or months, or even years. I know there's a lot of wives out there that send their husbands away for extended periods of time and manage everything on their own without complaint. And that's not why I'm writing. To complain, that is. I'm just looking at my life and trying to see us from a different point of view. My poor children had to help me out a lot more than usual. They had to listen to a lot more negative talk from me. They didn't get to have as much positive attention from me. I didn't get to have as much "alone" time. There was a lot more stress surrounding Hector's nap times. I didn't get to feed them as well. I had to rely on other people to help me out at church with Hector. And that's not easy for me to do. I hate panning my kids out. Everything felt a lot more fragile. My interactions with my children should have been more special and happy since they were some of the only interactions they were getting this weekend. I could make a huge list but to sum it all up, I wasn't prepared for what was required of me. However, I was able to realize at the end of the day how special and helpful and understanding my children are to me. If Jonathan were to have a job that took him away from us for days on end, we would be okay. I would work on being a better person. I've got great kids. They are just fine. I guess I'm just writing because I feel like expressing this satisfaction I feel knowing that they are healthy and happy and are able to perceive my feelings. I'm grateful that we can work together and grow together. We are all becoming less selfish together. You'd think that a mother of four would be beyond selfish at that point, but no. If you have a helpful husband, I think the "Me, me , me!" tendencies creep back in and only in looking back at times of trial do you realize, "I was being pretty selfish!"
Sherman prayed the other night. "Please bless Dad so his plane won't crash into the Burj Khalifa and so he can come home safely to Doha" To which Atticus responded "That can't happen. It would be too hard." I think he meant that a pilot would have to be stupid to do such a precise thing. I think that we've spoken to our kids a handful of times about the events of September 11th. I reminded Atticus of that and he realized that something like that could happen. Anything can happen.
Anything can happen. Next thing I know, Jonathan will come home tonight and tell me he wants to make TESOL his career. Who would have guessed?

Creative Criminals

I am a bit frustrated right now. Last night was a shocker for me. I'll spare everyone the details but one of my boys did something horrible to his brother. The word "horrible" could be interpreted in many different ways. Weird, strange, mean, disgusting, disturbing, etc. Anyway, the event left me and my husband on our knees. Even now I'm still asking myself, "Is this a foreshadowing of coming things?", "Have I done something entirely wrong in my parenting?", "Why do our kids fail to show love for one another?", and "Is my child a freak of nature?".

Talking it over afterward with my husband we knew that Guilty just didn't think things through before he acted. He's not a freak of nature. He's just a kid who fails to think about what will happen after. What kid does? But aren't there limits? I would think that there would be some things that wouldn't even enter our kids minds. Well, I guess there aren't limits. I guess children think they can do anything. They are curious. They are imaginative. They are creative, even in their crimes.

So, I'm completely at a loss on how to guide my children in a direction that will lead to more appropriate forms of expression. We came up with a few ideas.

It's been at least a week since I've written the above. We've been emphasizing "service" in our household big time. The boys are encouraged to serve each other breakfast. We expect Atticus and Sherman to do it, but Cinci of course sits back and enjoys the service rendered without even thinking of doing his part. At least Hector exists! For the sole purpose of teaching Cinci that he is not the next Prince and heir to the thrones of the world, I'm glad we have a yet younger child that will eventually put him in his place.

Our family home evening's theme was, of course, Service. I'm so grateful I've had a bunch of kids because now when we draw names out of a hat, there's actually mystery and excitement about whose name you get. The kids are old enough to not immediately divulge the name they draw and we can actually enjoy secretly serving someone else. It's really hard to get kids into a mindset of service. However, I do have one child who is going above and beyond what I expected. He will be receiving the "Service Award" next week for his excellent performance. He's subjected himself quietly to the meanness and mistreatment of his brothers every day since we started this service thing. I hope that everyone in my family will get a wake up call when they see him receive this "award". I'm not sure what to make the award be. Any ideas?

Growing up. . . slowing down

Late morning, Hector's in bed, I should be preparing my group guitar lesson for this afternoon, but I'm really weighing the pro's and con's of enjoying a piece of chocolate cake as a snack. You know, the mid-morning snack you feel you deserve because you woke up at 4:45 in the morning to browse math curricula? Well, I came up with no conclusion. But I still feel that I deserve that piece of chocolate cake. I did clean all three of my bathrooms till they were sparkling AND they smell like disinfectant. That's my favorite part. The smell. That clean smell that tells you that there is no trace of poo or pee left in there. I'm so tired of poo and pee popping up everywhere in my life. But I can't complain.

I love being a mom. Especially a stay at home mom. And to top it all off, I love being a stay at home mom with a husband who is a teacher. He helps me out so much with the kids. He teaches them when they are having troubles with any type of school work. And an added bonus to that is that he gets two and a half months off to spend as he likes. Here is a list of what my husband dreams of doing in the summer months:

1. Go to Iran to learn Farsi (without his family)

2. Go to Lebanon to learn Arabic (without his family)

3. Go on several hunting trips with his friend Eric (without his family)

4. Wake up in the morning, forget to brush his teeth, jump in his Porsche and drive to the local university library and spend a few hours there, get lunch out, then return to the library and read until nightfall, go to a movie and dinner with friends, and then read in bed until he falls asleep.

Here is what he'll really do:

1. Take some summer courses at the local university
2. Lie about taking courses at the local university just so he can spend some alone time in the library reading.

3. Fix broken sprinkler systems and fix other house problems

4. Watch the kids for mommy when she wants to get together with friends

5. Indulge mommy when she wants to go canoeing and boating on various lakes

6. Basically indulge mommy every day when she gets a frown on her face

7. Eat some tasty fast food

8. Go on one hunting trip with Eric (without the fam)

9. Act like he likes lollipops when he really detests them.

So, I've been maidless for a few weeks now. As I've been picking up things around the house, I've really enjoyed just being around Hector. He's said his first word. "Arbol" which means tree in Spanish. There is a nice tall tree outside our kitchen window that he enjoys looking at while he eats his meals. He also said "Mas" this morning and made the sign for it. I'm hoping to get Hector going on Spanish, then the others will at least hear it around the house. Yesterday he dragged a basketful of toys and little things out of my room and into the hallway where it was left until the present. I've left it there on purpose. It's not dirty or messy. It's just in the hallway. I like to look at it every time I walk past it and think "My little guy is growing up. I need to slow down."

So, as I eat this chocolate cake, I'll slow down and only take on a few things each day, chocolate cake being one of them.

Cinci is 4

Man, Cinci is so heavy when I pick him up. He's one solid kid. But he is soooooooo sweet. He's got these perfect freckles on his nose and cheeks. His eyes are chocolatey. Yum! And his hair, so smooth! It sways from side to side when he runs, or gallops, or romps, or pedals on his bike. His little friends in sunday school even caress his hair during singing time. It's just too straight and smooth. He's a cutie and he's four now. He's decided to grow older and he is developing on his own terms. With our other two, it was completely different. With Cinci, he is in charge! I suppose he could live up to his name. Cincinnatus. General Cincinnatus.

For his birthday we had a party for him. I'm breathing easy now because it's over. But I must say that I had a lot of fun planning it out. Atticus, Sherman, and Daddy put on a puppet show for the guests.Then a neighbor of ours did some magic tricks for the kids. I invited the right people. Actually, Cinci invited the right people. You see, I don't particularly like to be the hostess. Talking and chatting are not my fortes. But my neighbor, Erika, is excellent at this skill AND her son just happens to be one of Cinci's buddies at school! She could talk to anyone anywhere about anything. She's great. I've decided that if I can arrange to have her at every party I host, she can step in as the hostess and talk to everyone.

My children are so special to me. I love to do birthday parties for them. Love, love, love it! Happy Birthday my little chocolatey boy!

The Bear went over the Mountain!

I know a lot of people complain about living in Qatar but I must scream out over those complainers that "Qatar is cool!!!!!". Last Saturday we went to the Sheikh Faisal Museum with some friends of ours from school. The museum is actually the personal collection of Sheikh Faisal, a near family member of the Emir of Qatar. It's a very large museum, it must be to be able to contain all the boats and cars, and even an airplane, he's collected. My favorite collectible of his was this torture device that was left out front. The boys had a fun time sticking their feet in and pretending they were trapped.

After enjoying the museum and saying farewell to our friends we went to explore the grounds. If you must know something about me it is that I love to explore. I must discover what that cluster of trees is hiding. I must know where that road leads. I must find a way to that mosque that looks like an LDS temple. I must walk through the desert just as the bear went over the mountain, just to see what he could see. It's reassuring to see things for myself. So many people see things so differently than me, that I find it difficult to take their words for it. The kids ran around inside those huge barrels and no one came to complain. Back and forth, back and forth. Then we entered the forest. There were irrigation ditches that the kids sent bark and sticks down. Atticus and I hunted the peacocks. Well, not really hunted. But we chased them so abruptly that they flew up into the trees. I'd never seen a peacock fly until then. They are gorgeous! We chased them over and over again. On our way out of the forest we walked along a row of eucalyptus trees, the trees of my childhood. I used to make forts in them with my friends. The smell of the leaves brought it all back. I try to share the smells with my kids. It's so strange how a smell can mean so much to me, but for them it has no meaning. Just a smell and that's it. As we chased our last peacocks we discovered hundreds of grasshoppers jumping through the fields. Now I know where to go with my glass jar before we go fishing. I've made these hats. The ugly red and green one was my first crocheted hat. I'm too embarrassed to wear it in public because my neighbor made fun of me when she saw me put it on. Red and green? Well, those were the only colors I had at the time. I'm becoming obsessed with crochet.

Hector helps me carry my watering jug. We've got 9 tomatoes growing on our plants. The plants look sickly but the tomatoes continue to grow. We'll see how big they get.

And lastly, in our great endeavors to raise these boys of ours, we are beginning a stuctured education towards manhood. Our first lesson:

How to make a "man with hat"(which is basically and egg cooked inside a piece of toast, with a toast circle on the top.)

Next lessons: all the other types of eggs and how to tie shoelaces

Happy Birthday Hector!

It was Hector's first birthday. I've been very bad about taking pictures of my kids on their birthdays. I didn't take one picture of Atticus' 7th birthday party, and it was really cool. He would have liked to have remembered the friends that came and the fun time they had. Oh well. This was the best I could get of Hector. He got a haircut for his birthday. And a cupcake. Here's Jonathan lugging Hector up a sand dune. This picture doesn't do the dune justice. Just know that it's really big and really steep. You wouldn't want to go down this dune in your car.

Here are our four bears outside the Museum of Islamic Art. We just went to see the exhibition they had of "A Journey into the World of the Ottomans". Fortunately, they displayed very little modern art so I didn't walk out of there frustrated from spending the money on the exhibit. Please forgive me for not being cultured enough to enjoy modern art. I just don't have that quality. We showed the kids the paintings, which they actually enjoyed. They really want to go to Turkey again. They love the Bosphorus. They love the mosques. I know they couldn't describe why they love those places but I know why they do. They spent so much time on the Bosphorus when we lived there. We didn't have a car. We were crossing on those ferries at least twice a week and more often on some weekends. We'd see dolphins. We'd see massive tankers. We'd see people throwing bread to the seagulls. We'd see jellyfish. So many of them. The fresh, coolness of the sea spray on their faces. Of course they loved it. The mosques were great because they were beautiful buildings. Beautifully constructed. They were tranquil. They were open. That was the best part. My children were welcome inside. Here in Doha, infidels are not welcome inside. Anyway, it's Jonathan's turn to post. Send him a few comments if you get a chance, that way he'll post more often. I hope he'll post every two weeks. I love to read his writing. I wish he'd write more.

Footprints in the sand

Well, maybe my family is treading too much on the earth by existing, but I still believe that this world was made to be lived on by humans. Humans that reproduce and continue existing. Sure, the world can use a few of those humans that sport North Face jackets and eat beef from grass fed cows, if any beef at all. But what if the whole world were that way? (I have a North Face hat.)

Today I took Cinci to the doctor to take a look at a nasty cut he got falling off his bike/trike. They had to cut off some excess skin and give him a tetanus shot. Not fun. But anyway, they gave me a prescription for some antibiotic cream which I did not have the pharmacist fill.

"I already have some," I thought to myself.

I'm pretty proud of the antibiotic cream that I do have. It was given to me by my sister in law, Tara. She gave it to me as a shower gift before the birth of my first baby. That was over seven years ago. I still have the same tube of Triple Anti-Biotic Ointment, Western Family brand. Can it be possible that I have given birth to four boys and have not even gone through one tube of Antibiotic ointment?

This evening Hector had diarreah for the first time. Time to pull out the Desitin. Did I have any? Nope. I've gone through my share of diaper rash cream. I can't boast that I've used less than one tube. But I was able to find this half used tube of cream that my Aunt gave me at that same shower.

It really pays to save knick knacks if you remember that you have them. It's actually a waste of money and matter to buy something that you already have somewhere else in the world. Our youngest boy, Hector, has worn pants about four times in his life. He just turned one on the 4th. I didn't plan on him growing so fast when I was packing clothes for this school year. So I left most of my 18 months pants and warm weather clothes packed away in storage back in Utah. It's kind of cold here some days. I regret not bringing a little bit of every size. But the silly thing is that I refuse to buy new pants for him. I'd rather sew him a pair of pants from scrap material than buy something that I already have (granted it's not on the same side of the world as me.)

The whole point of this post was to explain that I try to do what little I can to keep this world nice. I try to remember the reusable grocery bags that I have when I go shopping. In fact, I try to avoid shopping at all costs. But it can't be done. I save milk lids. I save cereal boxes. I save bones, shells, and feathers. I save old, holey clothes. I save a lot of stuff. Like creams found in tubes. As my children grow and depending on where I live, we'll recycle even more because I'll have some helpers.

Many problems in the world can be solved slowly by proper education. Parents can teach their children so many things if they so desire. So, instead of bashing people for having lots of kids, why don't you just encourage parents to teach their children the proper way to care for this world. Sometimes parents need a little boost, a little encouragement. They are exhausted in their role. (Don't say something stupid like, "Well, why did they have kids in the first place?) If you green people want to help the world so badly, step out of your backpacking reverie and talk to some parents about what they think would make it easier to teach their kids about saving the environment.

Hey out there! I'm a mom of four little boys. I'm tired almost all of the time. What would help me teach my kids about saving the environment would be some inexpensive ways to get my kids out in nature. If they loved nature and animals, they would want to assist in this cause. Recycling is non existent here in Qatar. Why doesn't someone who has more time than me figure out a way to provide that service? Maybe in ten years I can. If I'm still living here. For now we'll just have to be a bunch of footprints in the sand.

When silence comes

Yesterday afternoon Atticus went with Uncle Steve, who is really our next door neighbor, to play soccer at the clubhouse. He was gone from 4:30 to 6:15. While he was gone I fed the other kids dinner and got them ready for bed. It was much too easy. When Atticus walked in the door I was in the back room reading to the others. He came back to see what we were up to, I told him his food was in the microwave. Can you believe it? I told him his food was in the microwave! Atticus is seven years old now. He can heat up his own food. He can eat dinner on his own. He can spoon out a portion of Arroz con Leche all by himself. He can even bring his bowl to the bedroom and be with us while I gave my specially prepared Spanish lesson to everyone. Which he did. He did join us voluntarily. I thought it was so sweet that he wanted to be with us even though he'd been with cool Uncle Steve that evening.
What will life be like in five years? I'm almost positive that Atticus will walk in the door and eat his own dinner just fine, but I'm sure he won't join us little guys voluntarily. There will be other things to do. Funner, more interesting things. In ten years, he'll walk in the door, grab his food, go to his room and slam the door and I won't see him until he walks out the door the next morning. Maybe. In fifteen years he'll be gone, out of the house and doing his own thing. Hopefully.
I'll have the other youngins. But they'll go through the same process of growing up and moving on. I'm sure I will cry. I won't have any cute little people that want to be near me. I won't hear the pitter patter of bare feet walking up to the side of my bed and climbing in next to me. I won't hear the chatter of their really loud voices down the hallway as they talk about who's airplane has better capabilities. I won't have chocolaty fingerprints to clean of the light switches anymore.
I want their lives to go on. It would be more devastating to me if they hung around me too long. I would blame myself. What can I do to prepare myself for that day when there is silence all around me and no more chaos to put in order? The simple answer to that is, I'll do all those crafts and hobbies that I wasn't able to do while the kids were around. But that isn't fulfilling when I really think about it. It's only a time filler. Something that I do to have a contrast against the crazy disasters that surround me constantly. Crafts and creating things bring me pleasure right now because I can control them.
So, I'm planning my distant future right now. I know the only way to feel fulfilled is to be around other people. I really like people. I really like to teach. Especially children. So I guess I'll go in that direction. Slowly. Meanwhile, I'll chase my little tumbleweeds around and giggle.

Gingerbread Train Station 2010

We've been working on establishing holiday traditions since we've been living overseas. Making and decorating a gingerbread house was one of them. Last year we did our first one.

This year we vowed to do something a little more extravagant. I found an idea online for a gingerbread train station. "That's it!" I thought. Plus I already had the train cake pan. So I designed this one myself. What usually happens is I start out with grand ideas but they diminish as time goes by. So I got started with what you see in the photo below.Then I finished up the top triangular part with sugar cookies because I did not want to make a whole other batch of gingerbread. My husband is not partial to gingerbread. We had kids over to decorate on Christmas day. "One for me, one for the station, one for me, one for the station," I could hear them thinking as they popped the candy into their mouths.

As you can see below, I never bothered to finish the other half of the roof. I figured that it had enough candy and it looked good so I considered it done.

We ate it last night with our faithful neighbors Sophia and Christian for our New Year's celebration. We exploded some party poppers and ran around in circles screaming. Then we dumped all the candyless gingerbread in the garbage can. I am quite grateful for the clear counter space again.

Happy New Year to you all!

Tradition

The tips of my pointer fingers hurt from pushing cloves into oranges all day. I love the smell of cloves and oranges at Christmas time. My neck is killing me for some reason. I can't turn my head to the left. The kids are happy because when the whole family is piled in the car, I can't turn around and scream at them. There's no point in screaming at the windshield. My throat is revving up for the yearly sickness. Thankfully, I've been able to let go of my big plans to finish Sherman's quilt, which has been waiting for over a year to be finished. Each of the kids has a marvelous gift waiting for them. Jonathan and I are so excited to see them open their presents this year. We've been able to get them exactly what they've wanted. Fortunately, what they've wanted has not been in conflict with what we've wanted for them. I'm sure those times will come soon enough. Even Hector will be pleased with his assortment of prisms which I will hang in the kitchen window. Every day around 1 o'clock he'll be chasing those rainbows scittering around on the floor. Shhhh! Don't tell him what he's getting.

We think of our family often this time of year. One of these days we'll be back with them to celebrate the holidays. For now, we are enjoying our time together establishing our own Christmas traditions. Just a few days ago we said goodbye to my mother. She was with us in for over a month helping me out with the kids and getting some new material for her next romance novel "Dunes of Passion". She even found the face for the cover of the novel. Issa Al Kabisi, a popular Qatari singer and boy is he hot!!!! Anyway, she mentioned that one of the things her mother used to do during Christmas time was read The Little Match Girl to her three daughters. I'd never heard the story, and when she told it to me I was shocked! What a horrible story to read young children at Christmas time. But, hey, it was a tradition. So I encouraged Grandma to read it to my kids before she left. I don't think they got it. Another one of our traditions, well . . . actually we started it this year, is doing puzzles. Here's Jonathan with the train puzzle we finished. He wanted me to take a picture of him with it before we put it away. He thought we should have at least left it out for 24 hours, but I disagree. As you can see in the photo, there's a lot going on at that table. Lego's and paper crafts. Add to that a space hogging puzzle and that's way too much. It had to go.

Here's us atop the Burj Khalifa. Hector and the Burj are officially the same age, did you know? They were both presented to the world on January 4, 2010. If I had to choose between the two, I'd obviously choose Hector. He's a lot cuter. However, I think this competition deserves a post of its own. Either way, it was impressive to be on the tallest observation deck in the world.

Merry Christmas from the Tumbleweeds!