My little charmers

The children are planning some kind of surprise for my birthday. They want me to be prepared. Zoltan has specifically asked me to be sure to be beautiful on my birthday (aka, wear a dress) to be ready to accept this gift.

Dinnertime, foreign service style

Last night for dinner we had steaks, snow peas, and baked potato. Halfway through the meal Terry looked at me and said "You know, these peas cost more than the steaks."

Polite society

Kazakhstanis are known for kindness, generosity and tolerance.  Here's something I am really getting used to and will miss when we move on.  When you let someone into traffic, or quite frankly even when they cut you off, they put on their hazard lights for a few blinks to say "thank you."  It turns out that being acknowledged for doing something for someone, even if they forced you to do it, reduces stress and road rage by 50% (using my very non-scientific method of asking Terry and mentally rating how I feel.)

Leave it to the IRS!

Last week we received a letter from the IRS and a $1.00 check. Yes the decimal is in the right place, we got a check for $1.00.  Today we got the letter and explanation:  you see, we overpaid somehow, by $19.00.  We were assessed a fee of $18.00 for failing to pay the correct amount, and that left $1.00 to be refunded to us.

Speechless.

American English

Alex has a friend at school who has one American parent. The school is English speaking, although they learn British English (and yes, there is a difference, every so slight).  So tonight she tells us that when they are back at school she is going to ask the other girl if they can speak American English at recess, because they usually speak British English.

I wonder if they will notice the difference?

My little love

Zoltan is definitely more free with his affections than his sister. The other day they got the idea to make me birthday cards (6 weeks early).  Zoltan gave me his right away. He explained the picture and the very long word in "silly language" as meaning "Mommy, I love you. Thank you for all the love. Love, Zoltan"

I'm going to miss this when he grows up.

Looking like Zoltan looks

When a person walks into a room, turns around in a circle and comes back out saying "I couldn't find it!", we call that "looking like Zoltan looks."

Today he misplaced something. There was drama, tears, and he even accused our nanny of throwing the thing away.  After nap he noticed it was in very plain view, right on a shelf in his room.  His comment:  "I guess I looked like I look."

Drinking or no drinking?

The other night we went for dinner with friends. They speak better Russian than we do, so when the hostess asked something as we were handing our coats in to the garderobe (coat check, not medieval toilet) I didn't pay too much attention and let the friend answer.  The hostess led us from one room to a different one, and then everyone stopped and looked quizzical.  They asked the question again. It definitely wasn't "smoking or non-smoking room?" which is what I had gotten used to in Russia.

It was a Turkish restaurant. The question was "drinking or non-drinking room?"

My Russian language highlight of the day

Background: language instruction at FSI in generally thus: 3 hours of speaking practice/lesson; 2 hours of reading practice/lesson; one hour of language lab; 2 hours of homework. Sometimes people have the same teacher for reading and for speaking and sometimes they are different. Right now I have different teachers for the two.

The highlight: My reading teacher is amazed at how well I guess the meaning of an article when I actually know so few of the words. He thinks my ability to guess is even more impressive than if I actually knew what the article said.

Breadmaking

In an attempt to take it to the next level, I have sought out breadmaking books and recipes. This is a seeded ale boule from Kneadlessly Simple. Although the bread stuck to the cast iron pot (not supposed to happen) and I cut my fingers on the crust trying to get it out (with real blood, although none got on the bread).

But isn't it so pretty?

USA vs. Russia

When we were researching St Petersburg before moving to post, we read one random piece of advice to the effect that it's better to buy your laundry detergent in Russia rather than bring a favorite brand, because only Russian detergent can get rid of Russian strength dirt and grime.  This put firmly into our minds the idea of "extra strength" Russian dirt and grime, and by corollary, Russian germs.

Fast forward to now. Last month Alex has her very first ever tummy bug. This week she couldn't enjoy the two snow days with her 102 fever, headache and exhaustion. Again, very first time to be sick like this. She's 6 years old.

I say American germs win. 

Jammin' on the jam

Somehow, this summer I neglected to mention that we canned a full 17 pints of peach jam. We'd gotten a big box of seconds and didn't have much time to deal with them, so rather than trying to can slices, or make a pie, or whatever, we jammed it all.  Then we thought about how we'd have to give a lot away (they make great Christmas gifts!)

Then we started eating it. Particularly, Zoltan started eating it. It is the "j" of his pb -n- j. It's the flavor and sweetener in his yogurt. He puts it on his pancakes.

In four months we have gone through seven jars and today I opened the eighth.

A typical night

8:00pm: Kids are tucked into bed.
8:06pm: Zoltan calls "Mommy, mommy!"  Turns out he "needs" the potty. Let him go. "Mommy, I want you to be with me." Chats a mile a minute while sitting on the toilet. When I can finally break in, I ask if he's done. No, didn't make anything. Tuck him back into bed.
8:15pm: Zoltan calls "Mommy, mommy!"  Turns out he is "thirsty". Bring him some water. Tell him to go to bed and I don't want to hear from him anymore.
8:22pm: Zoltan calls "Mommy, mommy!"  Turns out he "had a bad dream". Can't have dreams when you aren't asleep. Give him one more big hug and kiss and tell him to get some sleep so he can have sweet dreams.
8:26pm: Zoltan calls "Mommy, mommy!"  Turns out he wants to know what we're going to do tomorrow.
8:30pm: Zoltan calls "Mommy, mommy!"  Daddy goes in this time and tells him to go to bed. Because, you know, daddy means business.
8:55pm: Zoltan calls "Mommy, mommy!"  Turns out he needs the potty, and with a child you're trying to get out of pullups you allow every false call. This time he actually goes.

What the hell Rockville?

I'm a planner. I like knowing what's going on and what the options are. It's December in the USA and I knew there would be Santa sightings. So I went looking for information about wheres and whens. Nothing.

I read in The Patch today that Santa hit Town Square YESTERDAY in an armored vehicle. Bet that would have been fun to see, eh? Then tonight during dinner we hear a fire truck sirens all a'blaring. It's coming closer. I guess a neighbor's house is on fire? But no, just as it rolls past our house we realize Santa's on the truck. We all rush to check it out.

Zoltan is the smallest and his chair is the farthest from the front door. He never even catches a glimpse. Thusly, he becomes completely hysterical, crying and wailing, because he missed it. If I had known Santa was coming, we had plenty of time from when we first heard the sirens to come out and see. But no, there was no way to prepare.

I finally had to tell Zoltan it wasn't our religion anyway so he should stop crying.

Sigh. Out of the mouths of babes

Tonight...
Alex: I don't have a phone to play games on.
Me: Right, so you have to play games in other ways.
Alex: You mean like tablets?
Me: NO, like on boards.
Alex: What are boards?

Later in the evening, talking about a new snowman stuffed animal
Zoltan: Mommy, I am sleeping with Frosty tonight
Me: Yeah, we like Frosty
Zoltan: Yeah, it is so yummy on cake

S-T-O-P means "stop"

... said Zoltan to me this morning in the car. This is a child who only recognizes half the letters of the alphabet, can't draw a letter that looks like anything other than a scribble, and still colors like a 2 year old (i.e., all scribbles). Yet, at not-yet-four he recognizes the stop sign. This is not a child following in his sister's path!

Moving out of our comfort zones

Once upon a time, Terry was the chef in the family and I was solely the baker. Then, I stayed home and that didn't make sense anymore. I moved out of my comfort zone. It wasn't always pretty and we had some fights over allegedly constructive criticism.

Tonight Terry wanted oatmeal raisin cookies. I agreed to participate but he would take the lead. I started directing him to where different ingredients were. When I told him to get the flour down his reply was "Wait, there's flour in this? Isn't it just oatmeal?"

Honey, when we have an income again, you can experiment with using only oatmeal. For tonight, let's put the flour in!

Conversations with Zoltan

Z: Mommy, [name of teacher] comes on Fridays.
Me: Yes, but you don't go on Fridays, not until Mommy starts working.
Z: Yeah. I love Fries days. But I like chicken nuggets more.

My brilliant mathematician .. oh, wait

Today in the grocery store Zoltan looked up at the lit-up number of the checkout line we were in. He said "Look mommy, we're in number eighteen!" Cue up the pride. Pushing the envelope, I pointed to the one next to us. "What number is that?" I asked.

"I dunno. Seven and one?"

Guess he's a normal kid after all :-)

Three cheers for the Rockville Metro station master

I like to get out of the house at least once a week with Zoltan, as it is just too hard to focus on him vs. all the chores when we're home. So today he asked to go to a museum on the train. Sorry hon, all those books you wanted me to read cut into our travel time. How about we go watch the trains?

Unfortunately, between the walls and trees, there are no good outdoor vantage points to see the metro trains as they go by.  I have been wondering what it would cost to go into the metro and back out at the same stop anyway, so I asked the station master. For anyone who's wondering, it's $1.70 (or $1.75, I forget, but it's close enough). I explained that my son just likes to watch the trains go by.

He let us in for free. He even suggested we could hop on a train, go a few stops and turn around to come back. He told me how long he'd be at the station so we could just go back out through him. First, we had a snack on the platform while watching trains come and go. Then we hopped a train and went three stops (the last outdoor stop, I think) and sat there watching trains for a bit. Finally, we crossed the platform and went home.

Was it worth $1.70? Absolutely! But how much sweeter to meet a man with sympathy for a boy who loves trains?

Bonus: As we started walking home, a freight train came by on the other track so we got to watch it too. It probably had 20 or more cars.