June 15, 2010

9:15PM

Mama, I’m very mad.

Ooo I’m sorry you’re mad. What’s making you mad?

I sometimes don’t like begtables almost very much and those beans had begtables and celery in them.

But you ate them – you were such a big girl.

Yes. I obeyed, Mama. But I am mad.

We have had to force feed quite a few meals to Josie in the past week and a half. My goodness, it’s been trying. I get especially stressed out, because the cook is constantly around the table checking in, refilling plates, and making sure everyone is eating. Josie is included in the “everyone”. I get stressed because I know it is absolutely insulting for us to not eat his food. And it isn’t hard for Jeremiah and I to eat, but for Josie, it’s been a struggle

Onions are a staple here. I’m talking, there might be three dishes for dinner – beans, cabbage salad and green/cucumber salad, and purple onion will be all over all of them. In Josie’s world, Onion=celery. So whenever something slightly resembles celery, OR onion, it’s bad news.

So we force feed.

Which is really fun on a day like today, where Jeremiah left at 10AM and won’t get home until 9PM. But so far we’ve made it through, and now it’s bedtime so all is right with the world again.

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Jeremiah has had a lot to do at the school as well as attending church staff meetings. It’s been awhile since he’s been in one of those, but he said worlds apart, church staff meetings are church staff meetings. Sounds exciting :)

Today Josie, Lucy & I joined a “Mothers and Others” group at IEC (International Evangelical Church). The group consisted predominately of children 18 months and under, and more “others” than mothers. “Others” = nannies. Everyone has a nanny. A sweet, Ethiopian nanny.

I could have used a nanny today! Lucy is (Praise!) on schedule here – sleeping her 10-12 hours at night and nursing every 3-4 hours during the day. She seems to be settled stomach wise as well. Whew.

But another adjustment I never considered before hopping on a plane bound for a country far far away, was how MY breastfeeding body would respond. So up until now, it hasn’t been a big deal, because essentially Lucy has stayed true to our US feeding schedule. But now that she’s nursing during the day HERE and sleeping at night, my body is confused…and causing me some pain. Hopefully the aches and engorgement and overall uncomfyness will pass in a day or two. Otherwise, I might have to contact LaLecheLegue, Africa. Surely there is a branch here, and surely they have breast pumps. Oh dear.

Anyway, the group plays for about an hour on the floor with a BILLION random trinkets/toys/pieces of toys and then heads outside on the lawn (or the courtyard to Josie) and breaks for tea. Young or old, if it’s around 10AM, it’s tea time dadgumit.

Josie wasn’t so much into the playgroup until tea time. She found some cookies and had a hayday with those things. And I let her. Bless her heart, she’s essentially been fasting from any of her normal snack or even meal food. So those cookies were a very special treat for her.

After tea time we went back inside a small room and formed a circle where the coordinator, a British woman who teaches English at ETC and who’s husband is Ethiopian, read a story to the children. I’m afraid the majority of them were much to young for the story, but Josie loved it – a story about “Tommy and His Travelling Trousers” – I made a mental note to buy more British books. They are much more interesting than our American ones! Of course, I should have also made a mental note to start speaking with a British accent, as I’m fairly certain that’s what makes the books more interesting.

Following storytime was singing time. H-I-L-A-R-I-O-U-S. We sang twinkle twinkle, the wheels on the bus, ring around the rosie and old mAc donald…all with extreme annunciation and at a slower pace than I’ve ever heard. It was our Dallas music class in slow-mo…but Josie did enjoy singing with the littles. She cracked me up when she looked pretty confused when the group sang LITtle star, instead of the US version, Liddle star :)

I had invited a girl I met at church on Sunday to join me at the playgroup, so I was thrilled to see her there. Gertrude, from Holland, with her 9 month old boy, Joel (Yo-elle). Her husband works for an NGO called Hope Enterprises and he’s recently given up his architect job in Holland to live in Ethiopia for six months volunteering his expertise. Apparently, they come once a year, but she hasn’t been in two, as she was pregnant, and then their son wasn’t old enough. She looked at me like I was crazy when I told her Lucy was 3 months. Dear Lord, please don’t validate her look.

After the playgroup, she walked with me (and poor Josie) up a huge hill to the right of the church/school to a place called Adam’s Pavillion. It is a mall of sorts, with a few clothing shops, computer shops, coffee shop (Kaldi’s which is a direct knock off of Starbucks), and sports equipment shops. She was stopping in the sports store looking for a running jersey for her husband’s father’s day gift. No luck. They told her they could maybe have her husband’s size next Friday. Ah, yes, Africa time.

So we trotted all the way back down the busy, dusty hill to meet Jeremiah and Mary for lunch. We picked them up and walked all the way back UP the busy, dusty hill (avoiding being roadkill at least three times) and ate on the terrace at a place called Paradise, which was super-ferengi (foreigner) friendly. The meal took forever, so Jeremiah actually had to jet before eating to make it to his class in time. So it was me and the girls…and Mary…I’m sure I am such a sight. Of course, since everything took so long, it ended up being time for Lucy to nurse, so bottom line, it was a juggling act to say the least. I think Josie only spilled her drink once ,so that’s superb. Lucy got a quick tour of the restaurant as the waitress wanted to hold her and show her off. EVERYONE LOVES Lucy!

I love Lucy (too!)!

Mary asked if I got nervous letting “everyone” hold Lucy, and I reminded her of the lady on the street who very obviously in Amharic asked, demanded?, if she could hold my baby. I, operating in Divine discernment, I’m sure, said no and kept walking. The lady then proceeded to grab her breast implying breasfeeding, I think, and kept talking. You better believe I kept walking.

I do think that in certain times and places, though, letting the locals hold Lucy is beneficial. It’s endearing. And I in no way want to communicate that I am afraid of them holding her. Babies, like smiles, maybe even more than smiles, are part of the universal language of love. I have seen that more in the past week and a half than ever before.

ANYWAY, it was a long night as Papa had to stay late and lead a small group for the evening class also taught by our team. He will be doing this two nights a week. He gets home about 9 – so I’m a little anxious to hear him walk through the door…taking the wiets (the mini buses – I found out what they are REALLY called) at night is not the safest option.

The girls are in bed, though, so I’m following suit. There is something refreshing about going to bed at 9PM!!