The boys are back to school (ish), by that I mean Sam is back to school and Peter contracted head-lice (our fifth, sixth, seventhOMG time since we moved to India) in his first three days back at a new school, so he is back out of school until it rains bleach and men set up nit combing stations on the sidewalk in each and every place they would typically piss on it.
I've had the opportunity to take Paul out on several photo walks and we've regained our "weekly date night without worry" They may actually be in better hands with Mrs. Rita.
Clem is thinking about using the potty. No she is not. She is however insisting on wearing underwear and not using the potty. So that has been fun. Because she is a woman with a will of steel and we are the exhausted parents of three children in India, we are allowing her to wear underwear over her diaper and everyone is happy. I realize that is like wearing your rain coat under your white silk blouse, but we are keeping it crazy here, so this just seems fitting.
Mrs. Rita is teaching me to cook South Indian food (and eat it) and I am working out and trying to lose the eight pounds I gained here in the stress and insanity of the first seven months while still eating with the passion that I maintain for
all food South Indian food. And naan. And vada. And Sambar. Oh my.
I am not stressed out like I was in the first six months here. My daily headaches have gone far away with my new "Total body transformation!" exercise plan and let's be honets, Mrs. Rita.
We planted our garden, as promised, and just two days ago, just seven days shy of the ten days the seed packet promised, we have lettuce! Go monsoon season! If the mosquitos, crows, chipmunks, mongoose and assorted farm-like parade of animals we have through our yard daily, don't eat it we'll be living our dreams and eating fresh salads here in no time! We also calmed the heck down and found a place that sells lettuce. So there is that.
The boys have become expert lizard catchers and I don't have to call Paul to come home from work anymore to exterminate. It seems a "tickle-stick" (read: flag pole from a bike trailer) and an empty tennis ball container are just the trick. And I'd been trapping them under high-ball glasses all these years.
We discovered an amazing
by Indian standards train museum and have been experimenting with a thousand kids of fruit juice popsicles in our free time.
And now for the photos...