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?

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

The inevitable snuck in today

Today was the day that Atticus brought home the seven year old version of "Mom, I'm dropping out of school and moving in with my girlfriend!" news. Many of you think that what I'm about to tell you is not that bad, but if you really knew me and my husband you would realize that for us, this is it. The worst news that a seven year old could possibly bring home. Well, maybe not the worst. There is always worse stuff than what you think is the worst.

He said that he wants to go back to America and never leave again. We asked him why, because he's never said that before. He's always been excited to know where we would go next. He responded, " I just like America better because I hate, hate, hate living in a place where people speak Arabic!" And he didn't say it like he meant it either. The worst thing about his statement is that it was totally rehearsed. After he said it I said,"Now tell me who really thinks that because I know you heard it from someone at school." He said, "Michael". Should I be grateful that my child doesn't really think these things? Or should I be devastated that he tricks himself into thinking that he is the same as these other kids at school. Up until now, Atticus has never told us he hated anything. I have noticed that a lot of his friends complain a lot and use the word "hate" a lot. Well, I hate it! Because it's rubbing off on my wonderful boy who used to never complain.

He then added this. "Arabic is stupid! And you know what I hate most about it? The writing. It's just black and white and black and white." Whatever that means. I know the writing is difficult. I've taken a class myself. But again, I know he's been listening to the other Western boys in his class.

And to top it all off, guess where he goes next. "Mom, I want an X box. I mean an Indiana Jones game thing." He doesn't even know the terminology. I know he means to say "I want a Wii" but again, he's just repeating the other kids. "I also want a phone just for me to put my own games on." Does my son ever talk on the phone? I asked him that. "Yeah. I talk to Grandma and Isaiah," he responded. We had to drag him to the phone both times.(no offense to the family)

How can my son go down this path?!!!!!! Well, I wasn't really that distraught over it because I knew in my heart that he isn't that person. Later on in the day he came into our bedroom while Jonathan and I were laying on the bed, lifeless, without a speck of energy left in our bodies, and wanted to pounce on us, which is always the case when Mom and Dad are on the bed. I said, "Atticus, what would you rather have, a Wii, or a canoe and a fishing rod?" His response was, "Well, I don't want to fall in the water, so I'd rather have a boat like the one Steve has to go to the mangroves in." Whew! That was what I wanted to hear. He didn't even give the question a second thought.

I know I'm so silly for worrying about this. It's just hard to transition from being completely in charge of someone's decisions to letting them make their own choices, whether they're choosing something just to be like everybody else or not. It's a shame Atticus has to put up with all the mistakes we make as parents. Poor kiddo! I hope he pulls through okay.

Thucydides on my mind . . .

While we were in Dubai Jonathan stocked up on books for the next stretch of time in Doha. Three of them were on Greek history and one on some Arab conflict. On the flight home, which is only 45 minutes, Atticus was getting really antsy. I don't blame him. He didn't get the window seat this time. Anyway, I entertained him by drawing my version of the hoplites on the cover of Jonathan's book. There was a lot of nudity in Greek culture. I took a class in college about Greek culture. Ancient Greece of course. Anyway, one of the few things I remembered from the class was that the athletes used to train naked, that's why we use the word gymnasium. Gymnos means naked. The idea grossed me out at the time. But now that I'm older and much more mature, I can see the wisdom in such a practice. If you're going to get sweaty, why get your clothes all sweaty too? I'm sure those greek women had plenty of work to do without their husbands coming home with sweatstained clothes. As for the depiction on the cover of Jonathan's book, I don't think they were completely naked during warfare. I think they just loved nudity so they put naked men all over their vases and pottery.

I don't know why I took that class in college. I guess I was just fascinated with Greek myths and was inspired to learn more. Jonathan and I were dating while I was taking this class. We took the train up to San Francisco to find some examples of Greek architecture. I took lots of photos of Greek columns and capitals. Then for our honeymoon we went to Athens. We got a nice taste of Greece, not a real taste mind you. That would take a few months at least. We went back a year later for our first anniversary since we were living in Barcelona at the time. I was pregnant, and wouldn't it be fitting to name our first child Atticus, after the region where Athens lies? Attica. So you can imagine my surprise and amusement when Atticus came home from school a few days after arriving home from Dubai with several drawings like the one below. I was impressed with his attention to details that he didn't have before him as he drew. He drew all this from memory. The helmet, the "boobs" as he calls them, the penis, and, what I think is quite easily forgotten is, the butt. He remembered the butt. I think most people would have forgotten that little round shape he stuck on the back of the leg. I chuckle as I think about him drawing this in class. I wonder what his teacher thought.

The human body is such a silly thing for a seven year old. Giggle, giggle, giggle. Look at his penis! Why does he have boobs Mom? My philosophy so far is to act like the naked human body is normal and nothing to laugh at. My mother was extremely modest and my father was the opposite. I remember looking for pictures of naked people in the anatomy books in the library when I was a kid. There was a curiosity there that I thought was wrong. Well, it's not wrong, and I want my kids to know that. I hope that if they understand the human body, what it's for, and why it's special, they won't abuse theirs or anyone elses. And they sure aren't going to learn about it by Mommy shielding them from it like it's something to be embarrassed about. Does anyone else have any ideas on how to treat this aspect of learning with their children?

Lately. . .

I've been busy filling my life up with a little bit of everything. Whatever happens, you always seem to fill your life up with something right? What have you filled your life up with? I remember this lesson I had in Sunday school when I was a child. The lady brought a big glass jar that was empty. She then filled it with large stones up to the top. Those represented the big things that we do, like sleep, go to school, eating time, etc. (I guess eating time is one of those biggies for me. Maybe not for you.) Then she filled up the rest of the jar with sand, and it filled up all the little nooks and crannies that were in between those large stones. Basically, she said that there is a lot of time in our lives. If we want to find time to do something, there is always time somewhere. We just have to schedule it in to those little nooks and crannies. That's how I feel me and Jonathan are working right now. Pulling bits of time out of nowhere and making things happen. I'm happy about it because this school year I've been able to delve into a lot of things that I wasn't able to last year because I was too busy growing a baby, and then keeping a baby alive. Now our baby is soooooo chunky and full of life that he is somewhat self sustaining. Here are a few things I've initiated this year.

1. I started to teach group guitar classes to children.

This has been a big learning experience for me. I love being around children. I find them easier to connect with than adults simply because they don't have any layers. They aren't hiding anything or trying to be something that they're not. I can be myself with them and teach them something that I really love. Unfortunately, it's guitar I'm teaching them and they are from ages 6-10. 10 is an ideal age, 6 is not. So a lot of them get discouraged early on. But, I'm having fun and so are they. Get them singing a little Elvis and we're all having loads of fun!

2. I began an Arabic class.

Jonathan began learning arabic last year and continues this year too. A nearby class opened up at a good time so I decided I would start also. Not to master it. I've found that such a lofty goal is unattainable right now. But, I can at least start now and learn how to read their words. I think their calligraphy and writing are so beautiful. I would love to learn how to write in arabic. Anyway, since I've begun, a whole new world has opened up to me. As we're driving along I notice the store names now. Here in Doha, the signs are written in English and Arabic so there is no need for us lazy expats to learn their alphabet. But now that I have begun to learn, I'm getting a whole new feeling about this place and these people. They are not as lazy as we might think. The Qatari's know both English and Arabic. They can function in both worlds. That is a skill that I cannot boast, yet. So, when I come home for the summer, don't think "Oh, Doha, that sounds so exotic. I wonder what its like there." Most westerners that live here don't live a life that is much different from their lives in their home countries. They find friends from their home countries. Their children go to school with other westerners. If their kids do go to school with Qatari's, they are very westernized Qatari's that don't cling strongly to their culture and let some distinct practices fall by the wayside. But, back to my point, arabic has been enriching to my life.

3. I began a crochet class.

I just started it last week. There are four other ladies in my class. One American, one Kiwi, one Lebanese, and one Qatari. I think that this class is so pleasant. Five ladies from different backgrounds getting together to learn a skill that is purely for enjoyment. I'm really excited to make some things for my smallest bear to wear. I know it seems silly to make hats and sweaters for him since we live in Qatar. It will never be cold enough for him to need such things. But, maybe at the malls? They sure do keep it chilly there.

4. I joined the Qatar Natural History Group.

They meet once a month and give a discussion on something relating to Qatar. Last month an expert came and spoke about the desert hedgehogs. This month a very nerdy and inspiring teacher gave an enlightening presentation on dragonflies and damselflies that are found in Qatar and showed us pictures he had managed to take of each kind. I'm really excited to go out and find some in this barren looking place. Next month a scholar from a UK university will come and speak about old Islamic boats. Kind of cool. I went by myself. Excepting the handful of preteens that attended with their parents, I was the only person under 50 there. Not that being 50 is bad, but I felt quite weird like I was at a senior citizens get together. Next time Jonathan will be able to attend with me, so we can feel young together. :)

The only way I can continue with these extra curricular activities is if I can maintain the basic curriculum of a stay at home mom. What is my curriculum?

Cleaning, cooking, remembering everything for everybody, giving love, wiping pee covered toilet seats (I know that should figure under the cleaning section, but I do it so often that it needs it's own category.), laundry, taxi service, making friends so that my kids have other kids to play with (otherwise I wouldn't go to the effort), closing my mouth 50% of the time I have something to say, looking attractive for my husband so he won't cheat on me, and having a positive attitude. If I slip in my duties, then my outside fun gets the boot. So, I guess I'd better stop blogging and get busy checking those toilet seats!

When it rains. . . it pours.

I'm still alive after the events of yesterday. But I sure felt awful this morning as I hid under my covers debating on whether to get out of bed or not. I did get out. Jonathan had an important meeting yesterday afternoon and couldn't come home like he usually does to take Atticus to his ice skating lessons. So, I was going to do it. Why not? Other moms venture out of their houses with four kids, one of them being a four week old baby. Why can't I? Everything went okay and by the time we were done with the lessons and walking back through the mall towards the exit things were going great. I was walking happily along with my gaggle of ducklings around me. I could even hear music accompanying me as we moved along. Happy jolly music. My almost three year old was even kind enough to push the stoller for me. Bad idea? Yeah, really bad one. In a split second I was snatched from my beautiful daydream and forced to move quickly (not easy because of my largeness) to collect my newborn baby from the floor. Yep, Cinci tripped, pulled on the stroller handles bringing them to the floor, and flipping the poor baby onto his face. I scooped him up and ignored everything else. He was alive, breathing, crying, and farting non stop. Poor baby, poor baby. After I calmed him down he seemed okay. But do you really ever know? I'm sure my mother is worrying about him as she reads this. (Mom, no need. I'm sure you're reading this post three weeks after the fact anyway.) So, there I am in the middle of the malls food court making a huge scene. I'll spare you the details.

In a nutshell we got home to even more drama. I spent the next two hours trying to be that successful mother I'm always striving to be. Cooking a nice dinner of scrambled eggs and frozen peas. Then the bedtime routine. I can't believe I pulled this one off. Four things at once.

1. Acting interested in my 6 year olds reading homework.

2. Rooting for my almost 3 year old as he struggles to poop on the potty.

3. Hold a screaming baby who wants all my attention.

4. Scrape off excess skin from my 4 year olds feet and apply the medicine. He's got planters warts.

After making it through that, they are finally all in bed and I can focus on the baby. But 15 minutes later Cinci calls to me and wants me to "fix his bed" because he destroyed it while I was working on Sherman's feet. Talk about OCD. I told him he'd have to wait until Daddy got home. I continue feeding the baby and I hear a thump and then wailing and I think to myself, "I'll bet there's blood. I'll bet there's blood so don't be surprised." I round the corner of the hallway and sure enough there's blood, all over Cinci, just like in a horror film. Blood streaming down his face, from his nose, and from his mouth, and dripping all over the floor.

He's okay. Everyone is okay. I'm okay. It was just one of those days. Life goes on. I learned so much from the events of the day though. During these moments where time slows down and you have to act fast and prioritize fast, that's when your true colors show through. And so far, my colors are pretty. During these scary moments I never find time to yell or scream, I just move forward calmly. I wish I could be like that all the time. Why can't I get through the days normal events without yelling and screaming? I have no idea. Weird. When the baby fell I got to see my 6 year old turn into a man for a second. He didn't stand there and laugh or act silly like he had been a moment earlier. He starting picking up all the stuff that had fallen from the stroller to try to help me out. I'm so glad that his true colors are pretty too.

Math time

From the adventures of bunsy and her tumbleweeds

From the adventures of bunsy and her tumbleweeds

Doing this math program with Atticus has really been fun. We started it shortly after arriving in Qatar because there was nothing else to do. I wasn't sure if we would find space for the kids at the schools as most of them are already filled by the beginning of summer. We've since secured them spots in a school but I'm still continuing the math. Anyway, I love how he behaves a little better for me when we are doing our "Math lesson". I've had to give him about two lectures about how he needs to not be so silly during our lesson and when he decides to be good, which is most the time now, things go really well. He is still silly sometimes, like today, he told me that the days of the week should have different names. Oneday, Twoday, Threeday, Fourday, Fiveday, Sixday, and Sevenday. I asked him how many days he would choose to have in his week if he could make his own calendar. He decided that a seven day week was still a good plan. When we put little bear counters on a grid he wanted to line them up close together, but the point of the lesson was for each bear to have its own square. He said,"But then they'll be selfish."

As a mother, I started out thinking that a parents role is to provide structure and discipline and if the kid acts up, you correct it immediately. You are even allowed to be mean if you need to be. Now that my kids have gotten a little older and I have three instead of one, I've drastically changed my opinion. Now I think a child needs an example, a soft word, love, and plenty of free time to explore and learn what they are interested in. Even though my opinion has changed, it doesn't mean I implement it. It's hard. Any mom knows its hard. Anyway, I've been very reluctant to give my children any sort of extra structure precisely because I am such a structured person. I really don't want them to end up as rigid as me. However, I've seen what a little structure can do for my oldest son who is very hyper active. Just doing this little math program has shown me that he is normal. He can learn, he is smart, but he needs a structured environment. So for him, going to school is a good thing and I feel really good about it.

Whirlwind vacation

Grandmom and Grandad have come and taken us on a whirlwind of adventure. Of course this isn't a problem for my tumbleweeds who are already flying in circles, but it really wears me out. We rented a large vehicle for the trip. No seatbelts and horrible whatever it's called that cushions the bumps on the roads. My butt was sore every night. My head hit the ceiling a few times too. We drove from Istanbul westward, then southward to Gallipoli, crossed the Dardanelles to Canakkale and to Troy, down to Ephesus, Bodrum, Antalya, and then northward, McDonalds, gas stations, and then Istanbul.

The trip was full of diarreah, beaches, grumpy mommy, happy mommy, wonderful children, great weather, and fun. If you ever come to Turkey please see Troy. It was my favorite place and my kids absolutely loved it. There is space for them to run around. Atticus' comment on it was "Mom, I like this maze." They got to go in the Trojan horse. There were massive toads in a small pond. There were rocks for toddlers to play with. If you drive there, don't pay for parking. We did and when when we passed the gate where we paid, there was the parking lot. We could have just parked outside and walked in. Just a little tip for you drivers out there.

We sort of saved going down the Aegean coast for our last excursion. It's probably the most visited area of Turkey, by foreigners and Turks alike. It's not really Turkey to me. It's more like this historical land stuck in the past. Not in the last 100 years like other parts of Turkey, but stuck in ancient times. The times of Agamemnon and Odysseus. As we crossed the Dardanelles in a ferryboat I looked down at the water and thought "there's the wine dark sea" that they always talked about. Greek history has always fascinated me. For our honeymoon Jonathan and I went to Athens. I have all these pictures of us running through the ruins of Mycenae. Putting all these connections together is quite fun. I'm no historian but I do see wisdom in piecing together the past. I try to do a little piecing here and there, when I'm not too occupied with the tumbleweeds.

I don't think my younger two will remember all we've seen. But I think Atticus might. He might remember climbing up the steps of the Trojan horse and looking out all the windows at us. He might remember his grandmother telling him the story of how the Trojan War began. He might remember me telling him that all those broken stones that people are looking at are like puzzle pieces from a long long time ago and when they're connected they tell a story.

I realize that teaching my children history facts is not the most important thing for them, or me. But I do hope they will realize that they can go and learn about anything in the world first hand, if they want to. They don't have to sit home and watch a show about the Great Wall of China and think that that's the only time they'll ever see it. I don't want the TV to be their only window to the world.

While my kids expanded their perspectives, I did a little expanding my own way.

Looking for answers

I'm using this book with my just turned 5 year old. We've been doing it since September and we are on lesson 47. We don't do it every day even though I'd like to. On the front cover it states that one lesson can be done in 20 minutes. I've found that the first 10 lessons were in that range but slowly they've taken longer and longer. When this happens I break them up so we don't spend too long on a lesson. So far I have been happy with this method and my son gets excited when he sees that he gets to learn a new sound on the upcoming lessons. However, because it's beginning to take longer and longer to finish a lesson I'm wondering if I'm doing something wrong. Does anyone else have this problem? Also, my son is quite the perfectionist when he's reading. He gets really frustrated when he makes a mistake on a word. It's hard for us to continue the lesson because after he's messed up on a word he gets in a rut and can't seem to get out without me eventually telling him what the word is. Have any of you (my readers) had perfectionist readers? How do you help them progress after they've made mistakes?

Dreams, like presents on Christmas morning

Jonathan and I have been staying up late talking. Too late. Too late to wake up happy in the morning. I feel like I'm still dating sometimes. You know, those times where you stay up walking around your block unnumerable times with your boyfriend that you're about to marry talking about what you're going to do when you get married. How many kids are we going to have? Where are we going to live? Where will we go to university? What will we do for our careers? Blah blah blah blah blah. It seems pointless to blab on about such things for more than an hour but it's just been so exciting for me to be married to someone who gets just as excited as I do about the futures we could have. Every time we dream together I feel like it's Christmas morning as I'm opening all my presents. Last night while Jonathan took his shift sleeping with the kids until they fell asleep, I got online and planned out an imaginary future scenario for our little family. I'll spare you the intricate details but at some point in my future I dream of attending this university, if not to study there, at least to do research there.

The University of Salamanca is in Spain. It is the oldest university in Spain dating back to 1218 and the fifth oldest university in Europe after Bologna, Paris, Oxford, and Cambridge. I received my bachelors degree in Spanish. Spanish language and Spanish literature. I love both and if I had to choose one over the other, it wouldn't be easy. One of my many dreams is to teach the spanish language to high school students and open their eyes to a large part of the world and a huge part of history. Spanish literature has a special place in my heart however, but especially the Spanish authors and poets. My two current favorites are Miguel de Unamuno and Federico Garcia Lorca. Miguel de Unamuno was one of the greatest minds that ever came out of Spain and I am so thankful that I was able to learn about him. His life and ideas are an inspiration to me. When I think of the University of Salamanca I think of this. I think of the fight between what we sometimes what to be right, but it's not, and what really is right, but difficult or dangerous to stand up for. It is an ongoing battle that as I grow older I see will never really end.

Of course they survived, silly!

Yeah, so my two older kids have been going to turkish preschool this week. It's a week of orientation where the parents get to ease their child into the whole process of preschool/daycare. My children definitely need easing and so do their teachers. Shermie cries the whole time. Atticus has lots of fun playing with all the class toys. Unfortunately, he does nothing else. The teacher has the children do group activities but Atticus is always by himself playing with whatever toy he's interested in. If a child wants to play with him, he avoids him because he doesn't understand them. These are my two comforts:


1. Turkish women are the most gentle and kind women in the world towards children. A child could kick them and they would think it was adorable. Especially if the children are blond and blue eyed.

2. Children are forgiving.

Jonathan taking the kids to school on their first day! They have to catch a service bus that takes them right to school.
Shermie playing in the ball pool after one of his crying fits.

Atticus looking unsure.


Atticus and Shermie after surviving their first day of school. Just as spazzy as ever!