So things continue on in pretty much the same vein around here since the decision to move to Thailand. Sure I keep being frustrated in my attempts to download free editing software so that I can upload files from my own computer to our fledgling website. And the kids and I talk about it a lot as they process the impending change. We talk about Thai customs an learning the language. And our new reason for not frivolously spending money on silly whims is that we need to save it so we have enough to buy plane tickets to go to Thailand. The Girl's evening prayers have taken an interesting turn of late.
"Please help Daddy to lots and lots of money so that we can go to Thailand...and to the movie theatre! And please help us to remember when, when, when, we are in Thailand not to touch people's heads...and to keep our feet off the walls. Amen."
Then there was yesterday, when I felt like I was caught in a three ring juggling act with no intermission.
It started with the shop that replaced the engine in our car calling to say that it would be ready sometime today, and they would have it towed to our apartment. They could not however be specific about when. My entire plan for the day was to go to a fabric store and get what we needed to make this tutu for a birthday we are attending tomorrow, and to hang out at my MILly's all day and work on this one project. But we needed to be home to sign for the car.
So we decided that they would come to us, and bring the already begun dinner with them, and spend the afternoon swimming with the kids. While I made bread. Add the first project to my to do list. This was not too stressful because we just had company the night before, so the house was still in pretty good shape. No rushing around to clean up on the horizon.
Grandma (Milly) and aunts and uncles all descended upon us after nap time and took ecstatic kids for a swim, except for the boy who needed to cry for 10 minutes or so because neither of his uncles elected to sleep over, and I started the bread.
Then the GH needed to leave and finish his homework someplace more quiet. (He's in the middle of a TESOL course right now.) He called to tell me that I can sign for the vehicle and that the tow truck driver has my number.
The 4 of the swimmers, two of my children and one aunt and one uncle decided to walk up the hill to the big pool where they can dive. (Yes we live in a nice place, it's worth the effort it takes to pack 5 people into less than 900 square feet. Not to mention how full it feels when we have guests.)
I had bread in the oven and waved goodbye as they headed off.
The towing company called. They were lost. The driver would call shortly once he found us so I could let him in.
The three rings are about to converge.
I hear screaming out the window. A second later I realize that it's the Boy just as his uncle runs up to the door holding him in his arms while bloods pours out of his foot and stains the welcome mat. Concerned mommy that I am, I don't want blood on the floor, I tell them to sit outside while I grab a paper towel to soak up the blood. His screaming has drawn the whole neighborhood and Milly from the nearby pool. As I try to get a look at his foot the phone rings.
Of course, I have to answer it because it could be the tow truck driver with our car. SO I run inside the house, leaving Milly holding the Boy's bloody foot. It is the still lost driver and so I give more directions. Turn out he has the wrong address.
I grab the bottle of peroxide and run back outside where we pour it all over his foot. In the meantime the story is emerging from a dozen places at once. Glass, on the path, near the big pool, he stepped in it. Why wasn't anyone wearing shoes to walk up there? Because they were just swimming of course.
I have to check on my bread.
Just in time I take it out of the oven as Milly carries the Boy inside to my bathroom so that the whole neighborhood won't have to hear him scream anymore. AT least there won't be any blood on the carpet now, it's been washed and soaked up some.
I carry the phone into the bathroom with me and hold the Boy's arms so that he will stop attacking his Beema with them while she squeezes and prods to make sure there is no more glass left in the cut. One uncle appears in the bathroom with a paper towel full of turmeric. The next door neighbor, Indian of course, sent it with instructions to press it against the wound. She also sent cookies. We give the Boy the cookies and decide against the turmeric since we've already used peroxide and bleeding has already stopped. Another person appears in my bathroom. An aunt. There are now six of us in this little space. The people in the office want me to come in and sign papers. What? Is the tow truck here? No they just want me to sign something about what just happened, they wanted the 13 year old uncle who carried the Boy back to sign it first and then asked for me when he refused.
I angrily decide that they can wait.
The phone rings. The driver is here.
I send Milly to let him in the gate while I bandage up the cut. The Boy is by this time calm. He stays still while I use tweezers to extract something that looks like garbage from the cut and then we bandage it. Today I realize we probably should have stitched it, or at least used a butterfly to close it up, but it didn't occur to me yesterday.
I sit him in front of a movie, go out to sign for the car, and come in to set the table for dinner. The rest of the evening went almost as planned.
Except for the part when I took out the stress of the day on the GH when we went for a walk after dinner because he didn't stop and wait when the Boy was calling him and wanted to walk with him instead of me. He claims he didn't hear. I was still irritated. And of course thinking that it was that moment that really mattered instead of my need to decompress and feel reassured after that really exciting half hour that he missed out on earlier.
Today I made the tutu, and finished the steamed rice the GH is taking to his TESOL class tomorrow, and baked buns for my neighbor's husband's birthday party tomorrow. (Got that?) And tomorrow is another busy day. Church and Luaus and laundry, OH MY!
Mommy needs a nap.