The high price of greed

Tonight we had pitas with left-over braai from last night. Yummy. Except that Emily did not like the chicken in hers. She painstakingly removed it bit by bit, then refused to eat it. We said "fine"... but reminded her that she would not get any left-over chocolate cake if she didn't eat her chicken.

She ate all but the last 5 little pieces of chicken, so I very kindly (or so I thought) said she could have a small piece of cake.

Emily was horrified. She wanted a BIG piece. Jonty, who had polished off TWO pitas, had a big piece and she wanted a big piece too. Emily was NOT interested in a "baby" piece of cake.

She had a little tantrum. She got sent to the time-out mat. She came back when she was calm and in that same serene state, sat down at the table, and calmly flung the "small" piece of cake on the floor.

She went for some more "time out" with a very warm bottom. She had a good cry and when she came out and told me in her sweet little voice that she would eat her chicken. And she did - every last bit.

She got her (ever so slightly) bigger piece of cake. She ate about 3 mouthfuls of it, looked out the window - it is pitch dark here at from about 18h00 during "winter" - and said that it was so late "it's almost morning". Bottom line: She wanted to go to bed.

What about her cake? - no, she didn't want the rest of it, she'd had enough.

The silly girl. If she had just eaten the "baby" piece, she would not have had to eat the dreadful chicken AND she would have eaten more cake.

And so young Emily learns the high price of greed!!!

Out of Africa

A few days ago Jonty asked me why we can't go back to "Africa". I explained that our work is here in Thailand. I told him that most people in South Africa know about Jesus, but that most Thai people have not heard about Jesus. I told him that God has called us to work here so we must be obedient.

Yesterday morning, as I was leaving for Kids Club... Jonty was nowhere to be found. Just as I was driving out, Jonty came pedalling up on his bike, calling out that he wanted to come too.

In the car he told me that he'd been to visit Ben. Ben is a boy who lives in our neighbourhood during his holidays. He is 12 years old, his mom is Thai, his dad is American. In the past he has been very sweet to Jonty, and Jonty was very excited when he found out that Ben was "home" for December.

But!

Jonty told me that he'd asked Ben if he believed in Jesus and Ben said no, so Jonty told him that in that case he was going to hell. He proceeded to inform Ben that hell is a terrible place with lots of fire and bad people. Ben said it sounded horrible, but that he did not believe that he was going to hell. He said that he is a good boy, that he goes to the temple often, makes lots of merit, so he's sure he's going to heaven. Jonty told Ben that that was not good enough. He went on to say that Ben should believe in Jesus because Jesus is powerful and can heal the sick (evidenced by Jonty's healed chin) and raise people from the dead. Ben said that he was not a Christian and was not interested.

I think it was at this point that Jonty left, telling Ben that he would not come back to play until Ben had accepted Jesus as Lord and Saviour.

Phew! Work to do...

Jonty and I had a long talk. I asked him what was the most important thing about God - Jonty said that he made us and loves us and wants us to love him ... I said it might be better if he tells others THIS first, rather than telling them they are going to hell. I asked Jonty if he'd like it if someone told him that he was going to hell ... he said no. We discussed that no-one really likes to be told this. We also talked about the fact that we follow Jesus because we LOVE him, not out of FEAR of HELL!

Jonty is very spiritually aware, so even though he's not quite five, he grasped it all. As soon as we got back from Kids Club he hopped on his bike and went to tell Ben that he's sorry about the way he spoke to him. He told him that Jesus made him and loves him. And he told Ben that they can still be friends even if they believe different things. Apparently Ben (in true Thai style) said "that's OK" and now they're friends again.

At supper-time I happened to ask Jonty why he decided to tell Ben about Jesus. Jonty said that he wants to tell as many people as he can about Jesus "so that we can go home to Africa". He said we should all do that. We should, indeed! Somehow Revelation 22:20 and 21 came to mind:

"The one who is testifying to these things says, “Yes, I am coming soon!”

Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!

May the grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints .... (and especially with the missionary's kids!)

Amen

A rude awakening

(Emily being comforted by one of the "moms" on Sports Day)

I have noticed, over the past three months that our children have been in Anubaan Benjamaat, that the other moms are about the same age that I am. Now, that has surprised me, because I am an "older" mom.

I thought it was probably because Benjamaat is a private school, and perhaps these well-to-do ladies studied at university, got married a little later, and then had kids. I have been quite happy with the situation.

Until last week.

When Jonty had his slip'nslide and ended up with 9 stitches in his chin, he because a minor celebrity at the school. All the other moms were asking me how he was, and telling me how brave they'd heard he was. They wanted daily updates on the progress of the wound. It was a wonderful chance to get to know some of the other moms a little better.... although I'm sure there are better ways to break the ice!

So, while chatting to one particularly friendly mommy, it struck me that she knew all about my three kids, but I didn't know a thing about hers. So I asked if her child was in Jonty's class.

Oh no no no, its not her child ... its her granddaughter! But yes, she is in Jonty's class.

As I said: "rude awakening!". They're all grannies, not moms.

Nick tried to comfort me by saying that Thai ladies age well, and they are probably 10 years older than me. Strangely that was not particularly comforting.

Simply irresistible

I was really tired today (result of going to bed too late last night and getting up too many times during the night to sort out cold children who'd lost blankets, children falling out of bed, and struggling to fall asleep again afterwards. When there are three kids under the age 5 in the house, there will always be something!). Anyway, point is, I was a bit grumpier than usual, and my temper was a little shorter.

Thankfully I have Emily to sort me out.

Going down the stairs to have breakfast Jonty hit Emily on the head (playfully, not maliciously). She responded by screaming blue murder and probably waking up the entire neighbourhood. I said - "Jonty, don't be so rough, and Emily, you really don't need to scream like that."

Emily replied - "Mom, you really don't need to be so angry."

After dropping Jonty off at taekwondo this evening, driving home, Emily kept saying "Look mom, look at this!"... "mommy, mommy, look at that." She was getting a little upset with me because I wasn't looking at what she was doing on the back seat of the car, so I explained that while I was driving I could not turn around to look - its just too dangerous.

"Well, then STOP the car!" she says. Faultless logic.

I explained that we're in the middle of the Lampang traffic and that I can't just stop to look at her antics: there are cars ahead of me, cars behind me, cars next to me. Not to mention all the motorbikes. They'll crash into us if I just stop.

"Mom, " says Em very patiently as if she's talking to a 3 year-old, "just stop the car at the SHOPS .... there are no cars there to crash us , there's lots of space! And then you can buy me an ice-cream!"

Later she asked me for a treat - I said no, because treats are for good girls on special occasions, not just for everyday. She said "but Mom, I AM HAPPY!" I am not sure when "being happy" began to cover a multitude of sins, but Em sounded very convincing.

I was trying to make supper, Nina was grabbing everything, Emily was touching piping hot dishes, non-stop. I dished out a few smacks to these wandering fingers and said to both of them "you must learn not to touch everything" ... to which Emily replied "and you must learn not to smack!".

At some point during the late afternoon Em phoned Nick and asked him to buy her ice-cream for pudding. I asked Nick if he was going to - of course he was! "How could I resist?" he asked. And I've got to admit, Emily is simply irresistible.

Thailand - land of the strained smiles

What’s going on in Thailand!? Shutting down the 2 main airports, 1 million jobs lost, 350 000 tourists trapped in the country, holiday bookings cut by 50%, and such political turmoil! This unrest in country so renowned for its easy-going fun-loving nature defies logic.

We, with other Westerners, watch this mess and wonder how it could happen in Thailand. Back up though - what exactly has happened?

In September 2006, prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra was kicked out during a military coup. Just over a year later elections were held and won by the People Power party (PPP). The party was pretty much still Taksin’s party and well supported by rural folk. The new prime minister was Samak Sundaravej. The People's Alliance for Democracy (PAD) were not happy and began to demonstrate.

Samak Sundaravej then lost his seat because he had been the emcee on two cooking shows – not allowed when you’re the PM! And so, Thaksin's brother-in-law took over as PM. Demonstrators did not appreciate this and have been aggressively fighting it. In the boldest move of all, they took over Bangkok’s airports.

Meanwhile - although he has been found criminally guilty - Taksin announced that he plans to return to politics…

We need to accept that we may never appreciate the Thai logic that has led to the current political mess. But let’s try anyway!

Emotions rate very highly in Thai society – Thais place a strong emphasis on making sure everyone is having a good time everywhere, all the time. They avoid stressful personal confrontations or, indeed, anything unpleasant. There’s a special Thai word for it “sanuk” – visitors to Thailand love it. But it means that people listen to their feelings, rather than their heads…unlike our culture which values rational decision making more highly.

We think in a linear way i.e. if A follows B, then this will lead to C. It’s so logical and so simple that its difficult for us to understand why some people might adopt a different decision-making style.

We’ll ask “How can the Thai elect a government that promises the impossible?” or “How can they close their international airports knowing the hardship it will cause for their countrymen?”. But for the Thais what is important is the shared values of friends, colleagues, and community, a strong sense of unity, solidarity. They’ll accept ideas within this context without necessarily questioning them.

Another thing is their idea of what is "right" – and its not something that can be rationally justified, its just a sense, a feeling, a spiritual thing. Thai are far more open than we are to making decisions based on faith, not objective analysis.

So while we might think: closing airports = loss of millions of jobs and billions of baht = bad idea, the Thai might think: closing airports = sign of solidarity = morally right.

While they might be prepared to forgo being happy and relaxed for a time, they are not likely to give up their worthy cause which they believe in. In this political mess, both sides feel they have the moral high ground and believe they are right. Stalemate.

So what is to be done?

Oh, it's simply a matter of leaping huge cultural hurdles, and massive cultural adjustments being made, that’s all. But, hey, that’s what we do every day as missionaries here – just in a different context. As we watch the unfolding drama, it reminds us of what we are up against in bringing the gospel to the Thai.

So please pray for Thailand with us.

Wolf ,Wolf, what's the time?

That was the game we played today at Kids' Club: "Wolf Wolf what's the time?" My own kids have been playing it since they were about 2... the Kids Club Kids are 6 and older so I thought it would be easy. I had gone through my introduction and explanation of the game with my language helper yesterday... I knew what to say and how to say it. I was ready.

But they didn't get it. The wolf refused to turn around and look away from the kids. The children could only call out "wolf wolf" if they were robotically repeating it after me. And could only take the steps if they were robotically following me. At first the wolf didn't manage to catch anyone (even though he was the oldest and fastest of the lot!). And even though they only had to run back to the start to avoid being caught, they all ran right around the house and then some! Frustration!!!

Photo: Kids Club on a better day!

Sadly, its not the first time this has happened. As I get more experienced at running Kids Club, it happens less often, but that's just because I am lowering the standards and my expectations! I realise it has something to do with my inadequate Thai, but truly, there's definitely a lot more to it than just that!!! I love Kids' Club and am honestly fond of the children, but their lack of ability to THINK really frustrates me...

When we first arrived in Thailand in 2003, I read in the Bangkok Post that the average IQ here is low and dropping. In fact the average of Thai children is between 87 and 88 points. This was according to a survey done in 2002. There was a plan to develop children intellectually and physically, and raise the IQ to at least 100 by 2008.

Its 2008 now and I am wondering how the programmes fared. I am on a mission to find out, but so far have not been able to find anything.

The 2002 survey results were fairly dire: at least 20% of the children under five years of age had visual, muscular and touch-perception problems. Another survey (from 2001) found that children from six to 12 had low levels of patience, discipline, concentration and self-reliance, while those between 13 and 18 had insufficient creativity, analytical ability, conscience, problem-solving skills and emotional control.

The then minister of education said that these problems were the result of parents leaving teachers in charge of their children's development. Teachers are not trained to maximise children's potential at the right age, he said. The five-year plan included teaching pregnant mothers to eat nutritious food during pregnancy, and stimulating their children's development at the right age.

The minister for mental health said that: "Some parents tend to carry their babies in their arms all the time out of concerns that their babies might fall and hurt themselves. That's not right. If it's time for your babies to start crawling or running, let them do so because it encourages their development."

HAH! This is what I've been saying all along. Whenever I get asked how come my kids are so active, independent, energetic, inquisitive and talk so much.... that's what I say, and that's why I started my moms and babies class (which no one attends because they have all taken the kids to nursery so the teachers can make sure their kids develop)!

Before I get too carried away on this particular rant, let me not forget that South Africa's average IQ is 72! So who I am to comment on a nation's whose national average is 87? But all the same, I do hope that the five-year plan will start showing some fruit soon! And that maybe, just maybe, some moms will come to my classes.

And I think that its time to think!

Sports Day! Thai Style.

Sports Day. The kids in the school were divided into three teams: Red, Yellow and Blue. Jonty and Emily were in the Blue team. The day started off with speeches, a demonstration of the sports the kids do, Thai girls dressed up like drum majorettes, a parade (in which Jonty got to beat the drum for the Blue team)... and then, eventually, it was time for the games to begin.

Jonty was in the first race of the day. It was also his first race ever, so, after "triam tua", "prom", and "pay" as the whistle blew ("on your marks", "get set", "go" for those who don't speak Thai) Jonty waited until the other boys were halfway down the track, before realising that he should also run. To add insult to injury, members of the jolly Red team ran out into his lane causing him to (a) get a fright and (b) make a wide - really wide - detour. The other boys were sipping juice by the time Jonty finished his 100m dash/obstacle course.

If that had been me I would have been devastated. Coming last, oh no no! But Jonty was delighted. He had so much fun, and said he hoped they'd have another sports day soon, there's really no reason to wait till next year. He was also proud of himself for running his fastest. Well, he did run pretty fast, just a pity he started a bit too late, and took too long a detour!!! But I was proud of him for being able to enjoy it despite the fact that he came 3 out of 3. He won a bronze medal (unfortunately it was pink) and is very happy with it - especially, after I spray-painted the outside gold...

I felt I was justified in spray-painting it gold because NO almost-5 year old boy should be seen wandering around wearing a pink medal!!! and secondly, his Blue team won Sports Day, so the gold represents his team's victory. So how did the blue team win? Did I mention that Madame Emily was also in the Blue team?

She was in a grumpy mood, so she stomped off to her race looking too cute for words in her athletics outfit. Her race was the much-awaited watermelon relay. She was first off the mark, and did a brilliant job picking up her watermelon, racing around the track and back so the second person could get it. He was half her size, but bravely seized the watermelon and slowly ambled around the track, ending up stone last. The third one to go was a strong little girl who had no problem, but she fell once, and so the Blue team was still last. I thought it was all over, but the race was not finished yet, there were 2 rounds! Off Emily went again - she caught up, and then took the lead which was not all the hard seeing as the Red team member had burst into tears and was being coaxed by the teachers and mother to finish the race, and the Yellow team member had fallen down and had to find her watermelon which delayed her considerably. The Blues held their lead and so, Emily took the gold!!!!! Go Em! She cheered up no end.

After all the races, it was time for the awards and official photos. Every single child had competed in something, and so every single child won a medal. Each one of them was just so delighted, and they went racing around finding others who had the same colour as theirs ... the pinks (bronzes) and the silvers and the golds all seem to have equal value! They all took part, they all had fun. It was a huge success and I learned that you don't have to win to have fun. Although I still think it does help.

Bad Bad Barbie?

Emily loves Barbie. She has 4 of them. Only one is a real “regte egte” Barbie, the other three are 20 baht poor imitations - a fact which thankfully makes no difference to a 3-year old. I never thought a daughter of mine would play with a Barbie. I never had a Barbie in my life. In fact, I thought Barbies were bad news. Bad bad bad. I had this really negative impression about Barbies, based on … I'm not sure what.

Barbara Millicent Roberts (alias “Barbie”) was born on 9 March 1959. She is ten years older than me, but looks about 20 years younger! Barbie is an interesting person. She has a range of pets, from the usual cats, dogs and horses to more exotic pandas and zebras. She has many vehicles, and while she may have once been a flight attendant, she now flies the aeroplane. In fact, she has even flown a space shuttle. She is international too – and, has a large family. She has adapted over the years, always keeping pace with the times.

There has been a lot of controversy about Barbie – some of it valid, some of it positively ridiculous. The bits that were valid, it would appear the makers took to heart, and responded quickly and appropriately. Even her waist has been “thickened”!

Barbie-mania in our home stepped up a notch a few weeks ago when Emily was given the “Barbie and the Diamond Castle” DVD by Kawanor and Ben, our Japanse/Korean neighbours. As always, I watched it with Em the first time. I was surprised to find that I was quite impressed. For starters, the animation somehow captures the fact that these are dolls – their movements and facial expressions are much like actual Barbie dolls (I could almost visualize a little girl holding them and playing). Point is, you never forget that these are just dolls, not real people.

But, perhaps more importantly, the Barbies in this particular story are really good: they are loving, kind, gentle, generous, resourceful, bright, funny, caring, intelligent, respectful of differences, they work well as a team, they are respectful of the elderly, hardworking, brave, they keep their promises, they are faithful, they are not greedy, they sing like angels, they’re gracious, and … they’re beautiful. There is no getting away from the fact that Barbie is beautiful, tall and thin. But you know what? There are worse things for a role-model to be! Besides, Emily’s favourite part of the whole movie is when the chubby little puppy dances!

So, if Emily wants to watch Barbie DVDs and play Barbie computer games and play with her Barbies … that’s OK with me. For now.

My Thai Foot Massage

(3 years ago, having a foot massage while Emily had lunch!)

It was my day off today. A day off is not truly a day off without at least one hour away from all of my kids. Jonty and Emily were at school, so as soon as Nina went down for her midday nap, and Phii Noi got back from lunch, I took myself off to the spa down the road for a foot massage. I could go to the ladies at Big C, but I’m a bit of a massage snob, and rather go to the spa. You pay 20 baht extra, but you get soothing music and aircon. Bonus!

The Thai Foot Massage actually originated in China. It's an art that been practiced for over 5000 years. And although it’s called a foot massage, it involves the legs, up to the thighs, and often even shoulders and hands too.

The benefits ... wow… where do we start? Other than one hour of peace and quiet, it’s also supposed to improve circulation, remove toxins, stimulate lymphatic drainage, boost the immune system, relieve stress, improve sleep, and – my all time favourite (I do SO live in hope) - give clarity of mind.

So, I arrived, washed out, worn out, ready for my one hour. They know me by now. The lady who runs the spa... wait… lady? I am not sure. She is dressed like a lady, but talks like a man. She is taller than me, unusual for a Thai lady, but does wear plenty of make-up. Anyway, I get welcomed. I get taken through to a little foot fountain and my feet are thoroughly washed with a lovely, tingly, minty kind of soap, with coarse salt. Aaah, that alone is worth it. Except that my feet are very ticklish so I spend half the time pulling my feet away and giggling.

While I am getting my feet washed, I spot my masseuse getting ready for me. She… he? … She is small, but walks like a man. Her hair is cropped short. No make-up. I don’t know. I don’t mind if she is a man, because the ladies are often a bit too gentle. I like a firm massage (it’s those ticklish feet).

Then, I am given a pair of fluffy cotton slippers to wear. I pad through to the massage room. It’s dimly lit (so I didn’t get to read my Newsweek which I had taken with me), and has the soothing music and aircon I mentioned. There is a water feature, lots of plants, very nicely done.

I prepare to pass out. But no. The masseuse is a talkative one. Her voice is soft and gentle. A lady’s voice. She’s also new. She bows down and says a prayer or some sort and starts. Starts the massage but also starts the questions. She wants know if I come often – am I a regular? What am I doing in Lampang? Am I married? Do I have kids? Do I like living in Lampang?

I find out that she is from Central Thailand. She’s from a broken home. Her parents divorced when she was two and she was raised by her older sister. She did not go to school, they had no money, but learned the art of massage at a vocational training centre. She worked in Bangkok for a while, but has just moved to Lampang to be with her “fan”. “Fan” is a lovely Thai word used to indicate boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife. Nick (turns out her name is Nick, just like my fan’s) proudly tells me that her fan is the lady who runs the shop.

Nick is getting down to my reflex points which she is digging into viciously with her boney fingers (some use a stick, Nick doesn’t need to). The belief is that each part of the foot is linked to another part of the body – to vital organs and muscles. She tells me that if it’s sore, she needs to deal with that problem spot (i.e. press harder and longer). I grit my teeth and tell her it’s not sore at all. She moves on. No, not sore. Not at all. Gasp gasp. She ends with a scalp massage. Bliss.

Thai foot massage lavishes your feet and legs with the consideration and attentiveness they deserve - they are the pillars of our bodies, after all. But I wonder if Nick is lavished with the consideration and attention she deserves as one of God’s unique creations. I don’t think she is – she’s a lost, neglected, confused, unloved one.

I left my massage walking on sweet-smelling, pampered feet, promising to be back next week. Then the words rang through my head - “How lovely on the mountains are the feet of her who brings good news….” Next week I’d better take the good news!

HIGH EQ

My kids go to a Thai school. It was a big decision, well thought through (we thought so anyway), but recently someone told us that it was the wrong decision - my children will not develop good EQ at a Thai school ...

Firstly I wonder how arrogant is that!? Surely there are plenty, and when I say "plenty" I mean literally "millions", of Thai people with high EQ? But, secondly, being me, I started doubting myself and our decision. So thirdly, I started reading up everything I could find on developing my children's EQ.

Emotional Intelligence. It's the ability of a human being to manage his/her emotions in a healthy way. Apparently it will determine the quality of my children's lives in a far more fundamental way than their IQ will. So, OK, yes, its important. I need to start building my darlings' EQ.

Actually having read up, lots of it is common sense, it's not rocket-science. It's just the actual implementation that's hard.

So here are my reminders, the things that hit home ...

1. Teach the children that although they cannot choose their feelings, they CAN choose what they do with them. If Jonty is angry, then he's angry. If he is disappointed, then he is disappointed. I need to acknowledge his feelings, but teach him that even though he is unhappy or angry or disappointed, he can still choose how he behaves. I tried it at D.K Books yesterday. It worked!
   
2. Empathise. Empathy seems to be the golden rule. It teaches that emotions are not dangerous or shameful, but manageable.
   
3. Do not distract them from their feelings. Acknowledge, empathise, show/talk about what happened, and give them time to process i.e. don't tell Jonty that "big boys don't cry." Easier said than done. This one is going to be a challenge, especially as the technique I use with Nina is definitely still distraction....
   
4. Don't disapprove of fear or anger - it will just cause them to repress those feelings. And repressed feelings are ALWAYS looking for a way out. Oh dear, I heartily, heartily disapprove of anger, but, fine, I need to allow them to express it. Good thing point 5 is:
   
5. Teach them how to handle anger constructively. And when they're angry look UNDER the anger for the fear or hurt. Anger, is - apparently - almost always a front for fear.
   
6. This is a really scary bit: Remember that they will learn what I model. Don't let my own feelings get out of hand. Every time I yell or shout, the fault is MINE. I did not intervene in an effective way before yelling was necessary.
   
7. Give them time to bring up what is bothering them. One expert suggested a few quiet minutes (yeah right, not in our house!) at bedtime in the dark.... But, its a good point, on Sunday I took Emily shopping. She told me that she was being bullied by one kid at school. (She could even tell me where he sat in relation to her desk, so I know it was not one of her tall stories.) It only came out because we were alone and chatting about things important to us.
   

There were other points, but these 7 are enough for me to concentrate on for now. This is a gentle reminder for myself. And for Nick, the love of my life, who dutifully reads all my blogs and helps me stay sane.

Why do I read Newsweek?

Newsweek comes weekly (obviously) to P O Box 8, Lampang, Thailand. I get so excited when it comes and pretty irritated when its late. I hate "double editions" because all that means is that I have to wait TWO weeks for the next edition. I read it from cover to cover - the letters, the politics, world affairs, global investments, society and the arts, tourism, new inventions, hot spots, technology, even the adverts.

And why? Its not like I understand it. I don't - the jargon, the references to things I know I probably should know about, the acronyms, and especially all the financial-business-stock-markets-real-estate stuff. Its beeeeee-yond me. Even the arts column is usually about some obscure artist or an author I've never heard of, or a new exhibition that I'd never attend (even if I weren't in Thailand). But I read it all - sports, architecture, opinions, right down to the last word... which is actually in a column called "The Last Word".

Recently, in an attempt to be honest with myself about the things I do, I asked myself WHY I read it. Am I so desperate for news of the outside world, in English? Am I simply trying to keep my mind active by reading something that is such a challenge for me? Am I worried that an intelligent person might not be able to have a conversation with me about current affairs if I don't read it? Do I actually deep, deep down LIKE feeling confused and bewildered? Am I hoping that by reading it I'll be a better person? Am I just addicted, but if so, WHY? Are the tiny nuggets I do understand enough to make it all worthwhile? Am I hoping, week after week, that maybe I'll start understanding it? Am I hoping that one day I'll pick up the latest edition and suddenly, miraculously, it'll all make sense?

I can't give up because, "the trouble with giving up ... is that the world goes on without you" (quoted from Newsweek, albeit in the context of the data available on current account deficits and yield spreads...whatever THAT is!). Mmmm, I can't have the world going on without me. So, is this why I read it: to feel connected with the world, even if its a world I don't understand? Well, until I get more clarity, I'll just have to keep on reading. Maybe the answer will come in next week's edition!

Adventure of Living

The very worst part of my life in Thailand is, without a doubt, language checks. I have 2 tomorrow. I'm sitting on a train - the Chiang Mai-Bangkok sprinter - on my way to Lopburi.

A few hours ago we were hurtling passed tropical jungle, in the mountains. Now we're dashing through rice paddies. I look out my window. I see houses on stilts, flooded plains, palm trees. Everything is so green. Its 5.30pm. There are children playing along the train tracks, ladies washing in basins, grannies cooking in huge woks. Every now and then we pass a shrine, or a temple, or a spirit house. A few kilometres back there was a massive temple fair. There were jumping castles, games, stalls, and merry-go-rounds galore.

To my left are some odd-shaped hills, flocks of birds fly past in a "V" formation. Rice paddies everywhere. There is a heron wading in the flooded paddies. There is water - so much of it, its a good thing the houses are on stilts, its a good thing the owners have little wooden boats tied up to the posts.

The train driver is hooting again - we're passing another temple.

Another station. About one more hour to Lopburi. Once I get there I'll probably buy some khao phad from a street vendor for supper, I'll take a motorbike taxi to Shiloh, where I'm spending the night. In the morning I'm doing those 2 languages checks, then I'm off for one night in Bangkok and a day of shopping. I'll take the overnight sleeper train back to Lampang the next day.

The sun is setting now. The sky is purple, blue, pink and the palm trees form a postcard-like silhoutte. In my previous life I'd be ... what? coming home from work, yet another day in the rat race.

Here my life is an adventure, and even language study has a silver lining!

Jonty, taekwondo boy!

I am so proud of my boy. So proud!

Firstly he worked so hard to get his yellow belt at taekwondo. I think he is the youngest kid in his club to get it. But it is not just that he got it, its how he worked for it. He was so determined. In the two weeks leading up to the exam there were days that he really didn't want to go to practise. He'd ask me if he HAD to go. I'd say NO! but then I'd remind him that his teacher had said suggested that he practise everyday until the exam... and so he'd go! He pushed himself. He practised at home. He focussed. He did it.

For me, the incredible thing was that this was the first thing that he's ever achieved entirely on his own. He decided he wanted to do taekwondo. He decided how many times a week he would go. He decided he wanted a yellow belt. He decided to work towards it. Obviously we encouraged him, but this was HIS effort and HIS victory.

Then, today we got his school report. Yes, in Thailand even 4 year olds get reports. His overall mark: 81%. Eighty one percent. His teacher told me that he'd done so well, and that all his friends had clapped and cheered for him. He had only been in the school for a few weeks when the tests were done. The school, the system, the method of teaching, the language, EVERYTHING, was completely different to what he had been used to. He'd had to adapt and adjust ... and as I think I've mentioned before, Jonty does not like change.

He's not top of the class, but he's above average and that is cause for CELEBRATION.

Most notable comment: that he is happy and cheerful
Most surprising mark: 18 out of 20 for English i.e. surprising that they were brave enough to assess him seeing as his English is better than the teacher's!
Most pleasing comment: that he plays well with his friends.
Most encouraging mark: 16 out of 20 for Thai. Wow.
Most unsurprising remarks: about how strong and physical he is.

Jonty is so pleased with himself and more motivated than ever before. He is seeing the fruit of hard work and likes it. When I picked him up after his taekwondo lesson yesterday I saw that he was helping the new kids - showing them where to stand, and how to tie their belts. On the way home I asked him if he was happy with his yellow belt. He said yes, but that he wants to "go for" his green belt now.

Nina and Domino

I am a Baxter i.e. prone to exaggeration. My sister and I once agreed that it may be irritating, but it makes life more interesting. Well, this is a story I don't need to exaggerate, in fact, if anything I will play it down!

On Friday night Domino, the cat, scratched Nina, and she (Nina) proceeded to have a seizure. It was a bad one. I thought my baby was either going to die or end up a vegetable for the rest of her life.

Nina has a condition/disorder/disease/I-don't-even-know -what-to-call-it labelled "Reflex Anoxic Seizure." It is not epilepsy. It is not a breath-holding episode (which she has had before). It is not naughtiness. It has nothing to do with temper tantrums.

With a RAS oxygenated blood is temporarily cut off to her brain. So, actually, her heart stops beating. Her eyes roll back, and she goes white, her body goes totally rigid, her legs and arms jerk. Her jaw clenches - she seems to be grinding her teeth and she makes these unnatural grunting noises.

Its incredibly frightening for the parents, not to mention the siblings or anyone else, witnessing it. Now, normally all of this lasts just a few seconds - if that - but feels like about half an hour. The only thing to do is put her in the recovery position and wait it out. After the seizure, she slumps, and passes out.

On Friday night, the seizure - which Nick was timing - lasted one minute, two, three, four, five .... at about ten minutes, and a degree of panic in the Bekker home, we took her to hospital: she was still having the seizure.

We are not sure exactly when she came out of it, but on the way to emergency, I saw her blink - up till that point her eyes were wide open, pupils fully dilated. It was the first very faint glimmer of hope, but she was still groaning, grinding her teeth, and rigid. Once in the the emergency room, she actually started screaming. We found out later than once she could scream she was no longer having the seizure. All in all, we think the seizure lasted 15 - 20 minutes. Frightening stuff.

Once the seizure was over, my stress levels did not diminish all that much - mainly because I had no clue what was going on. She was unconscious for about an hour and although she was unconscious her body was still rigid, she was still screaming, and she had no normal reflexes.

It took her about an hour to eventually regain consciousness. She was groggy, unresponsive, and pretty much fell fast asleep for 10 hours. When she woke up, she was much better, but clumsy and very sleepy, just not quite herself. Even today, two days later, she is not 100%, but she will be soon.
(here she is about an hour before it happened, and about 10 minutes after regaining consciousness)

First thing she did when she got home from hospital? Hugged Domino!!!!

Things that would have helped me cope better:
1. to know that if a seizure lasts more than 5 minutes to go to hospital;
2. to know that we were doing the best (and only) thing by putting her in the recovery position, not trying to hold or cuddle her, give her water, cool her body (she had a fever too), etc;
3. to know that being unconscious for an hour after the seizure is "normal";
4. to know that once she could scream she was no longer having a seizure;
5. to know that other people's children have this condition! And that they don't die from it!

And the one thing that DID help me was to pray wthout ceasing! Even if my prayers were unintelligible.

So, maybe this entry will help someone else.

Yes, having read what I have just written I can confidently say that I played it down, as expected.

God's Child

I started working through Neil Anderson' list of "Who I am in Christ". The first category is "I am Accepted in Christ" and the first point is that "I am God's child". I know that. Of course. But what does it mean? I forced myself to think about it and not just take it at face value.

I have three children. How do I feel about them? I love them. But, let's be honest, they drive me crazy.

They don't listen to me - I have rules, for THEIR benefit, that they don't follow. They get into trouble and hurt themselves because they don't obey. They scream. They have temper tantrums. They argue, they all know better than me. They want to make their own decisions even when I know its not the best thing for them.

And, yes, at times I get angry and lose my own temper in turn. I still love them though.

This morning Emily was really quick to cry and whine about just about everything. So I tried to "fill her love tank". It usually works: I put her on my lap, measure her "love level" and - "glug glug glug" - give her lots of hugs and cuddles, filling her up till she's overflowing with love. When the love comes exploding out she giggles hysterically and then is usually as happy and content as can be, racing off to play and enjoy her little life.

Not today - she would not let me. "I don't want you to fill my love tank" she claimed. She preferred to be miserable and refused to allow me to love her. I still love her even though she's chosen to be miserable.

Mmm. Is there a lesson here?

Then I got to thinking... its not actually about how I feel about my chidren. Its about who they are are as my children.

Who are they?

They are mine. And I would fight to the death if anyone tried to take them from me.
They are special. Unique, wonderful, individual, marvellous creations.
They are beautiful. Truly beautiful.
They are loved. They have 100% confidence that they are loved.
They are precious. More valuable than anything - more valuable than gold, diamonds, rubies.
They are absolutely secure. Secure that they are our children. Secure at home, secure wherever they go.

I am imperfect, but this is how I see who my children are. Can I dare to imagine how God sees me? I am God's child. I am his. I am special, unique, wonderful, marvellous, I am beautiful, I am loved. I am precious. I am secure.

Note to self: Remember this!

No such thing

Jonty learned what a "plus" sign means at school today. He is so proud of himself and has been asking me to write him sums all afternoon.

At suppertime he asked me: "What is 100 plus 1?"

I answered "one hundred and one"... I was always fairly good at maths!

Jonty: "What is 100 plus 2?"

Me: :"One hundred and two."

Jonty: "I know what 100 plus 3 is!"

Me: "Yeah? what?"

Jonty: "103."

Me: "Clever boy! So what is 100 plus 10?"

Jonty packs out laughing: " Mom, there's NO SUCH THING!"

Lessons to learn

A few weeks ago Emily was banned from Kids Club at The Lighthouse on Saturday and Sunday mornings. She was fairly upset, but I was fairly adamant! Every time I got up to teach or explain a game or demonstrate a craft, Emily would have a temper tantrum. It was not working for anyone. So until such time as she goes a full week without a temper tantrum, Kids' Club is off limits.

I tell Emily: " You really need to learn to control your temper."

Emily nods in agreement. Thinks. Then says - "Yes, I do" then adds " ...and you need to learn to be nicer. And Daddy needs to learn to be patient. And Jonty needs to learn to be gentle. And Nina needs to learn to stop taking my toys."

We all have lessons to learn, even a 3-year old knows that!

Tonight's Prayers

Emily wanted to go first:

"Thank you that you made the world. Thank you that you died on the cross. That was very kind of you..."

Jonty interrupts - "you know that actually God is 1. He is 3 because he is the Son of God and Jesus and the Father. But he's still 1."

Emily:"Well, I don't think he is 1. He's actually a grown-up. We need to ask him if he is 1. "

She continues praying: " Thank you for Jesus. He is so nice, not 1 [glares meaningfully at Jonty] - thank you that Jesus made the world and thank you for him - thank you for mommy and daddy and Beanie and Jonty and Emily - thank you for the Buddhists that return to you. Amen"

Amen Emily!

Over to Jonty:
"Dear Lord Jesus. Thank you for a wonderful day. Please help the Buddhists return to you. Help me to be a good boy. Thank you. Oh, please help me to get ready for my test; please help me get my yellow belt. Amen"

Man! I love these kids - even if their theology is a little suspect.

ANOTHER NEW SCHOOL

The kids changed schools. Actually, we decided to change the kids' school. Big decision. Huge decision. Much heartache.

Reasons for the change? A better question is probably to ask why we sent them to the school we sent them to in the first place. Afterall, most missionary families we know home-school, especially when their kids are as young as ours. What we were hoping for was that Jonty and Emily would learn Thai and be able to speak like native speakers. And, because both of them are very sociable, we expected that they would have fantastic social interactions. We sent them to the one and only international school in Lampang - mainly Thai kids, Jonty and Emily were the only westerners in the class. The medium of education was English, but they did Thai every day and obviously playground interaction is in Thai.

The academic year drew to a close. We were given their reports, and invited "parents' afternooon" i.e. an interview with their teachers. Apparently Jonty and Emily are both delightful children, much loved, clever kids, try really hard. Just two problems: firstly, their Thai is not coming along well (they were both awarded a "3" which means "demonstrates no ability" for every aspect of their Thai language studies). The other problem? Well, some social concerns... some aggression, bullying, bad behaviour. I had a total rethink: neither of our goals were being met!

We looked around to see what our other options were. We eventually settled on a small, private kindergarten. 100% Thai. Day 1 was hard. Day 2 was harder. Day 3 was starting to get better, but then it was weekend. Day 4 (Monday) was terrible... but today, Day 8, was a breeze. No tears, "not a single drop" and Jonty happily informed me that he never wants to go back to the old school.

In just a week we have seen a remarkable improvement in both Jonty and Emily's Thai, but we have also noticed that they seem happier. They have more energy. They are getting on better. They are more optimistic. Jonty has a bit of the spark back that he's been lacking lately.

We are so proud of our children. They have been through so many changes. Jonty is only 4 and has been in Anubaan Suan Angun, been homeschooled, been in a home-schooling group, back to Suan Angun, been to a school in South Africa, been to the international school here, and now in a Thai school ....that's 7 schooling changes before his 5th birthday.

Today I had a meeting with the director of the old school. She told me that Jonty is a huge loss to the kindergarten and that while they understand our reasons, they are sad to see him go. She went on to tell me that he is such a clever boy, mature, and has a very strong personality. She said that he is a leader. She asked that we consider taking him back once we are satisfied that his Thai is good enough. I was bursting with pride (in a good way).

Sometimes I feel bad that we are making life so difficult for Jonty. But actually, Jonty keeps rising above the challenges that come his way and he's becoming a stronger and a better person. Its hard for a 4 year old, but just imagine the MAN he's going to be!

What happened to August?

I have just realised that August went by with only 3 entries, and we are almost half way through September out one single entry yet.

What is to blame? The opening of The Lighthouse (a resounding success). Starting running programmes (babies, moms and tots, English teaching, Kids Clubs are my special responsibilities). Oh, and the kids were on holiday.

So, that's where I am. Let's see how things go from here.

Prayer Warrior

Last week Jonty was really missing his big cousin Peter. Actually it was more than that, he was missing his buddies, his guy friends from South Africa. He was driving Nick a bit mad with his endless requests to wrestle ....

So we prayed with Jonty. Jonty told God how sad he was feeling and how much he was missing Peter. He prayed that God would let Peter visit him after Emily's birthday (September). From that moment he started talking about Peter's visit as if it were a reality. I tried to help him understand that its expensive, a visit was highly unlikely, and that - never mind - he would see Peter again in July 2009, but Jonty still carried on about the visit after Emily's birthday.

I had sent Debbie an e-mail telling her about Jonty's prayer. Not to hint, just because it touched me. The love between those 2 boys, despite the 4 year age gap, is so special. Anyway, a couple of days later I got an e-mail back from her "We're coming!". She had discussed it with her husband and agreed that she and Peter would come during the school break ... at the end of September!

When I told Jonty, it was like "well, what did you expect? I prayed. I knew he was going to come. What's all the fuss about?" I was certainly not telling him anything that he did not know already. But that's not to say that he was not as pleased as a 4 year old could possibly be!

But Jonty had prayed another prayer too - he'd prayed that he'd be able to make new friends. The day after we prayed, we met a guy, Ben, who lives two roads up from us. Ben is lonely and looking for a friend. He is an older boy - just what Jonty needs, and a really cool kid who is happy to take Jonty off for long bike rides. And the next day we had a crowd of kids in our home for Kids Club, and the day after that "Arm" (5 years old), whose mother works nearby, invited himself to play ALL DAY LONG. I had to shoo him home at half past 4!

So many answers to prayer. Well, what did I expect?! Jonty prayed.

This evening he was playing computer games - AGAIN. He'd found a new one and asked me to explain how to do it. I could not figure out this silly game... too confusing. Jonty simply says - "Shall we pray?"

Emily's Bedtime Tricks

Every night, about 3 minutes after the kids have been put to bed, Emily comes out the room with some or other excuse....she's thirsty, needs the loo, she's cold (yeah right!), etc.

So we deal with all the things - give her a glass of water, take her to the bathroom, put the blanket over her toes, etc - BEFORE we leave the room.

Tonight she comes out, peeking that adorable head of curls around the door, looking for me.

"Emily what is it???" I ask, totally exasperated....

"Mommy, I am NOT thirsty and I'm NOT cold" she whispers and goes back to bed!!!

Whre does the day go?

There are 24 hours in a day. I sleep from about 10pm to 6am. That leaves me with 16 hours.

I spend at least an hour a day carting kids back and forth to school. That leaves me with 15 hours to do everything else.

I spend up to 3 hours cooking and feeding myself and the various members of the family... down to 12 hours. Half an hour Quiet Time with the Lord. Then about an hour and a half on my Thai studies - well, on good day. Down to 10 hours...

I try to spend at least one dedicated hour with Nina. But admittedly there is the time spent sending and receiving e-mails, working on newsletters, Facebook, blogging, and of course scrabble (!!!) ... oooh, down to about 7 hours.

Time spent changing nappies: 30 minutes
Time spent picking up toys, cleaning up spilled water/milk/juice/cereal, etc : 30 minutes - 1 hour
Time spent getting books and bags ready for school: 10 minutes
Time spent watching TV: 1 hour max
Time spent chatting to neighbours and others in the community: 1 - 2 hours
Aerobics: 1 hour (if its not raining)
Time spent bathing kids, cleaning their teeth, brushing and tying up hair, etc: 1 hour
Time spent looking for things that Nick can't find: 15 minutes
Time spent looking for things that Jonty, Emily and Nina can't find: 30 minutes
Time spent buying essentials: 2 hours, a week though, not a day
Time spent reading books to Jonty and Emily: 30 mins to 1 hour
Time spent doing Jonty's speech therapy: 1 hour (but only every second day)
Dishes: 0 hours, usuallly - the househelper does it, but weekends, about 2 hours
Time spent answering impossible questions posed by Jonty: 30 minutes
And Emily: 5 minutes
Time spent riding bikes: 30 minutes... except when its raining or the kids are sick...

I was never particulary good at maths, but I know that if you add it all up you will see that I do more with my 24 hours in a day than is physically possible. That makes me - officially - SUPERWOMAN!

Buying onions

Buying onions is a simple matter, isn't it? Not necessarily. Not if you live in Thailand.

I go shopping at our local Lotus Tesco. I am in a hurry and don't want to face the possible communication breakdowns that I will probably face at the market. Only have half an hour to get everything done. Must rush. Must get onions. I select the three least revolting onions . I look around for somewhere to weigh them. There is no where. I look around for someone to help out. There is no one. I wander around looking silly for a few minutes. I see a lady with a badge chatting on the phone. Does she work here? Yes she does. its a Tesco badge. I look at her imploringly. She continues with her conversation, completely dismissing me. I look around some more. Where do I weigh the onions???

The lady on the phone tells her friend to hold on and grabs the onions from me. She marches off. Disappears. I wait. Nina gets ratty. I wander around the - very limited - fruit and veggie section a little more. I check out the rambutan, the dragon fruit, the papaya. Mmmm. I wait. Nina gets rattier. Nina is sick. The wait does not bring out the best in her. I wait. Nina's nose starts running. I find a tissue and wipe it. I wait. Several staff look at me weirdly. I look weirdly at them. Still no sign of the onion/telephone lady. I have to get home. Time's up. I remember I have half an onion in my fridge, its sprouting new shoots, but its an onion. I can use it - the recipe only needs half an onion. I don't really need these onions that badly. Not today anyway. I leave with a fairly heated heart - very unThai.

As I pay for my other purchases I notice a packet of weighed and priced onions in my trolley, cunningly hidden under the box of tissues.

Next time I'm going to the market instead. Less communication breakdowns there.

Back to the Past

Feeling good after doing pretty well in my first Thai languge check in almost 2 years, and basking in the praise of my language supervisor, we went to visit our old neighbours in Lopburi: Phaayboon and his wife and Dawwipaa.

Now five years ago when we first moved to Thailand, Phaayboon took us under his wing and took it upon himself to help us learn Thai. In return we were expected to help Phaayboon with his army English and assist their daughter with her school English.

Many evenings we sat with them, struggling to get the basics out, having our pronunciation corrected, our tones set right, etc. Sweating. Struggling. But learning. And now, 5 years later with Nick having passed Level 3 proficiency (which is good) and me on my way to that goal, we fully expected to wow them with our wonderfully improved fluency in Thai, our superb range of vocabulary, and our impeccable tones.

For some reason they seemed to barely understand a word we said, just switched off when we started chatting. And when they spoke to us it was in v e r y s l o w Thai or else incomprehensible, broken English....

I realised that in their minds we are still those struggling students of Thai and so they don't expect and therefore don't bother to understand us. It was a lesson to me not to do the same to others! Fortunately they were so delighted with our children that the sub-standard communication taking place didn't marr a very pleasant evening!

How to Get Angelina Jolie lips

Emily has this endearing habit of picking flowers and giving them to me to put in my hair. So sweet. But sometimes I get a bit upset - like yesterday when she picked the one and only lotus flower in our little pond... but she is so cute about it, that I can't really show her I'm cross.

And today... oh boy! Tired of picking the flowers, she decided to pick me a wreath of chillis i.e. those tiny little bird's eye ones i.e. those extra ultra mega hot ones i.e. those ones that the people working with them wear rubber gloves to protect their hands. As soon as I saw the offering she had made I marched her off the the bathroom to get her hands washed. Too late - the chillis or the hot hands had already gone into her mouth.

She started screaming - clearly in a lot of pain. "ARNICA ARNICA, mom put arnica on my tongue!!!!!" I made her drink copious amounts of milk and water, eat rice, I rubbed vaseline on her lips, but nothing really seemed to help. She was crying hysterically. She vigorously rubbed her tongue, trying to get the "ouchie" off, all the time yelling for arnica. I had a lot of sympathy because I KNOW how hot those chillis are.

I played my trump card - my creamcheese chocolate sandwich cookies!!! Just one of those decadent delights cured her on the spot.

But she still has Angelia Jolie lips.

Something to tell you

This morning at breakfast Jonty announced that he had something to tell me... apparently Emily is not that important and we can actually give her away. Other than her lack of importance she is also quite embarrassing, so it might be better to get rid of her. She copies everything he does but she cannot get the words to the rainbow poem right - she thinks that there is PINK in the rainbow.

BUT, the main problem with Emily - according to Jonty - is that whenever he has something to tell me, she comes along and says "I've got something to tell you" and proceeds to tell the thing that he wanted to tell.

"Mommy, mommy, there's something I want to tell you," pipes up young Emily who had been listening intently to this conversation.

"What's it Emily?" I ask.

"I LOVE YOU MOMMY!" says the clever little poppet with a gleam in her eyes.

Wisdom!

We went on an adventure today. All four of us on our bikes, Nina scoring a lift with me. We went in search of water buffalo and actually found about 15 so we were pretty pleased with ourselves.

Emily kept falling behind, and whenever this happened she'd shout and scream "wait wait"... which of course we'd do. After a while she informed me that from now on she would ring her pink bell when she wanted us to wait.

We proceeded. I heard the bell ringing and diligently stopped to wait, she pedalled up and we all had a drink of water. Then she rang her bell again. "When I ring my bell it means we must go," she said.

I asked her - "if you ring your bell to stop and wait, and ring your bell to go, then how will I know what the ringing bell means?"

Jonty responded very patiently, "Well Mom, I think that if Emily is behind us and she rings her bell it means that we must wait, but if she is next to us or in front of us we should go." (I was asking for it!)

Later Jonty asked me why I am so bossy. I replied its because I am a mom, moms are always bossy. He chewed on this for a bit and then said, "No, you are bossier than a mom should be."

Jonty and Emily were invited to play at a friend's house, about 5 houses down this afternoon. I asked Jonty if he and Emily would like to go. He said no.... because if its just the two of them, he will have to look after Emily. He will have to help her cross the road, he will have to say stop and she won't stop, he will have to stop her from climbing up things, he will have to tell her to ride her bike on the side of the road and she won't listen, he will have to watch her, he will have to help her if her bike falls over, he will have to get water for her if she's thirsty, etc etc - a whole litany of all the things he'll have to do.

At the end of it all he says: "Mom I am only ONE person and Emily is TWO persons."

I know Jonty, I know! I am only ONE person, and you children are at least six persons!!!

Tarzan and Jonty's Jungle Jump

Jonty is a bit like his dad - LOVES computer games. His favourite at the moment is Tarzan and Jane "Jungle Jump". Tarzan has to leap over waterfalls, catching swinging vines, dodge crocodiles, etc, all the while collecting diamonds for Jane. He gets about 5 lives then its "Game Over". The game isn't at all easy - I tried it and my highest score was 5000 which is quite appalling.

This morning Jonty was getting into it very seriously. All was going well, but one dastardly vine kept getting the better of him. He had played the game over and over, each time "dying" his final death at this same point. This time he had done well and saved all his lives up till this spot, but now Jonty was using up all Tarzan's lives trying to catch the swinging vine. He only had 2 "lives" left.

At this point Jonty flung his arms back, and bent his head forward, slumped over the desk in desperation, and muttered something furiously. Lots of sighs and so on.

"But, you've still got two lives left," I said encouragingly.

"I know MA, that's why I'm PRAYING!!!!" He got it with his next attempt a few seconds later.

One of those days with Emily

At 04h45 Emily came to my room and asked me to find her green Barbie for her. I sent her back to bed forthwith, but it was not an auspicious start.

I fetched the kids from school at 12h00 today. Emily cried most of the way home because she said she did not want to have a nap when we got home. Five minutes after we got home she stomped upstairs and asked why I was not putting her to bed as she wanted to have her nap.

I put her to sleep on my bed as Nina was already asleep in the kids' room. Emily screamed because she wanted to sleep on her own bed, so I said, fine, sleep on your own jolly bed. So she said, no, she didn't want to wake up Nina, she'll sleep on my bed.

She has a horrible blister on her knee. When she woke up she asked me to put a plaster on it. We went for a bike ride. The plaster came off about 10 minutes away from home, and she screamed. I suggested we turn around and go home to get another plaster. She smiled sweetly and said she did not want to go home yet and that it was all better.

We had a treasure hunt in the garden and Emily screamed because Jonty was eating all the treasure (sugus sweets). Upon investigation I found out that Jonty had found all 2 of them and had in fact quite sweetly - I thought - given her one of them which she had already eaten.

There was ice-cream after supper tonight. She dropped her bowl on the floor, breaking the bowl. I scooped up the ice-cream and put it in another bowl. She screamed because she wanted the broken bowl. She said she could not eat the ice-cream out of the new bowl, and so did not want the ice-cream any more.

I said fine, Nina can have it. Emily screamed and said she DID want the ice-cream in the replacement bowl. (And asked why I was being "so stupid"?)

There was a tiny bit of ice-cream left in the tub, Jonty had already had seconds, so I put dished it up for Emily. She screamed and said she did not want any more ice-cream. I took it out and fed it to Nina. As Nina polished off the last of the ice-cream a few seconds later, Emily screamed because Nina had finshed the ice-cream and SHE actually wanted more.

Good news though - its 7.40pm and she's been asleep for the last 40 minutes. I love her dearly, but sometimes I think I love her between 7 pm and 7 am the most.

Shared Shops

I love the shared shops in this country. I am not talking about the obvious ones like coffee shops attached to book shops. I am talking about actual shared shops. Down the road from us, where I have my photos printed, the photo shop doubles as a hairdressing salon. "Have your hair done while you wait..."?. And a little further down the same road is a chemist - with an internet cafe. You could always check out your medicines and prognosis on the internet while you wait for the pharmacist to get your medicines ready, I suppose.

Today I also saw a real multitasker - a guy driving a pick-up with "Roadside Emergency Services" on the door. In the back were the boney carcasses of some animals (probably cows). So, does his roadside service extend to abbatoir services...? Or did he pick these up on the side of the road?

And then there are the shops that defy all logic. Like the printing shop that does not stock paper: you have to bring your own.

Brownies

It was Phii Nok's birthday last week. She closed her restuarant for the day as she held a special Buddhist ceremony there on this auspicious day. She wanted us to join her, but unfortunately I couldn't and Nick was away. But I did take her some home-made brownies (with extra chocolate chips and cashew nuts). Yes, I know, I know, I'm such a good home-maker... I make my own granola too!

Well. Yesterday I was looking for mozarella cheese. This is not easy here in Lampang. There is very little cheese available. The processed stuff, yes, you can find it here and there, but real cheese is the challenge. And that's just taking about ordinary cheddar or gouda, not mozarella. I had already been to Lotus Tesco, and was now climbing into the fridges in Big C. I was determined to find mozarella cheese because it is best for pizzas. Yes, indeed, I was making home-made pizza for supper that evening. The perfect little housewife. That's me.

So there I was searching for processed mozarella cheese (I had given up on trying to find the real deal) in-between the processed cheddar and gouda when a strange foreigner man comes up to me and says "Hello, do you live here?"

"Yes I do", I reply with just a hint of irritation. Why is it that westerners ALWAYS feel that they have to talk to me, just because I'm also a so-called westerner???
"Where do you live?" he asks. Great - a chatty one.
"Muu Baan Huen Saay Kham" I tell him, hoping to confuse him with my fast and fluent delivery of our "village"'s name.
"Oh," he smiles sweetly, "I tasted the brownies you made. They were delicious!"

Turns out that he's just about my neighbour, living one street down from me, in the very same village. And Phii Nok is a mutual friend!!! Small world in Lampang. Better watch my irritation levels.

Jonty's dream

On the way back from Chiang Mai this evening, we saw a rainbow. Great excitement. Almost crashed the Mu7 trying to get Emily to have a better view. But, that's not what this entry is about....

Jonty told me that he had a dream and that he had been meaning to tell me about. He said he had this dream when Nick was in Bangkok (I remember the first day Nick was away Jonty told me that he was feeling "anxious" - he had been told that he was the man of the house now, poor kid).

Anyway, he dreamed that he went up to heaven, but that he was still on earth, and that God spoke to him. God said to him "You are my son. You are my child". He told me that God said that he must stay on the earth, but that he must not be afraid as He (i.e. God) would always be with him. And God said that whenever Jonty saw a rainbow he must remember that and that there would always be rainbows. Everyday.

Awesome! I got shivers down my spine. The way that he told it was so special too - not just like a kid rambling, it was almost like someone quoting scripture. Very bold. Very authorative. Very confidently.

Unfortunately Emily brought us all back down to earth with her so-called dream. Here goes:
She dreamed she went to up to pink heaven, but was still on pink earth. A pink god told her that she was a pink son, there would be a pink rainbow and that she should not be scared. Hoo boy.

P.S. Found a silly photo of them playing a silly game pretending to be asleep - Emily in a PINK dress. It seemed appropriate.

Advice from Emily

Emily saw me kill a mosquito while playing in the tub out the garden this afternoon. The pest (the mozzie, not Emily) was biting me...

Emily: "What are you doing to that mozzie mommy?"
Me: "I am killing it"
Emily: "You must not kill mozzies. All you have to do is run away as fast as you can. Run into the house and close the door. Then you will be safe."

I wish it were true, but its not!

Later -
Emily: "Why is there no water in the hosepipe?"
Me: "Because I turned off the tap."
Emily: " Why?"
Me: "Because we don't want to waste water."
Emily: " I DO want to waste water. How can I waste water if there is no water in the tap?"

Good point.

"2"

There's cute little kid whose mom works in our "muu baan" (village) as one of the gardeners. Almost every afternoon at about 4pm, we bump into him when he gets back from nursery school. He is clearly fascinated by my three children and follows us around like a puppy. So I've been chatting to him. His name is "Um".

I asked him how old he is, and he told me "2". I was fairly impressed as he was doing "homework" - they do start that really early here in Thailand - and was actually managing to write almost recognisable letters. The Thai script is fairly complicated so this is no mean feat for a 2-year old. Was I meeting a genius here????

Then a couple of days later Um came to our house - riding his bicycle. Now most kids I know master the art of riding a bicycle at about 4 years of age. Here was little Um at age 2 doing it, with a lot of confidence, so he'd obviously been doing it for some time. Now I was more than impressed, I was amazed. This kid is something else!

Later that evening I got to thinking: Writing Thai letters, riding a bike. Mmmm... I was not so sure. But then again, he is smaller than Emily who is almost 3, so it figures that maybe he IS 2.

The next time I saw him I asked him again - how old are you. "2" he answered. Now after 4 years in Thailand my Thai still fails me from time to time, so, thinking that maybe he did not understand my question I asked him which "anubaan" level he is in. In the Thai kindergartens there are a couple of levels, usually 2 or 3, and give a good indication of a kid's age. Usually.

"2" he answered. Ah ha, I was onto something here.

"How many brothers and sisters do you have?" I asked. Yes, you guessed it: "2"

But, that's not all - apparently he has 2 older brothers and 2 older sisters. 2 younger brothers and 2 younger sisters too. If I had asked, I bet he would have told me that he had 2 mothers and 2 fathers.

Yesterday I chatted to his mom. "How old is Um?" I asked casually.

"Five."

So my little genius turned out to be a normal kid after all. Or maybe not even all that normal, but let's not go there!

Reminds me of a little girl in Jonty's class who told me that she has 9 sisters, aged 17, 15, 8, 7, 6, and 5, and a baby brother. When I asked her how old the others were she asked - "what others???"

Psalm 8 v 1 and half of 2

"O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory
above the heavens.
From the lips of children and infants
you have ordained praise..."

I read these verses this morning, and they just made me think of Jonty singing God's praises. Love it!

He's a genius

Its official. Jonty is a genius. He is learning to write letters and they've got to "h". But today, I gave him a little exercise to do with colouring in e.g. the first bear, the third cat, the second tortoise, etc. He did it very well, so I told him he'd done a good job.

He scribbled something across the top of the page, and then showed me what he had written: "good". He had figured out, all by himself, how to write this word, that it needed TWO "o"'s too. I have never shown him how to write it, and I doubt that he's done it at nursery school.

Clever hey!?