questions, questions and more questions

I had to take Adam to the doctor last night (sore throat, fever, etc).  I don't know about the doctors in your area, but here, it's endless waiting...waiting for what seems like forever.  I've learned to come prepared - books, snacks, his blankie, etc.

So, we pull up to the doctor's office and I see that there are only 4 or 5 other people there.  This is exciting because it means that I won't be there for more than 2 or 3 hours (yay).  We get in, give the required information and set down to the business of waiting.  While we're in the waiting room, I'm hit with a barrage of questions, questions that are likely personal and that we typically keep to ourselves.  Adam, however, has no etiquette filter.

what's on that kid's face?
why's that man sleeping?
why does that boy have a pony tail? Pony tails are only for girls.
that girl's not covering her cough. Can you tell her to do the elephant?
Why does that man smell like that?
What's wrong with that man?
That girl has chicken pox, I had chicken pox, did I give her the chicken pox?

After much embarrassment, the nurse finally calls us into the treatment room where we were forced to wait some more.  This time, the questions were about the room.

Is that a light switch?
Can we turn it off and then on again?
Is that a door handle?
What's that? (hand sanitizer)
What's that? (tongue depressors)
That's for my ear, right mommy?
Will the doctor be able to find my throat?
Can I lay down?
Can we lock the door?
When is the doctor coming?
What's that? (the case of swabs)
What are these? (the stir-ups)
When I grow up and become a lady, I want to use those to get my baby out, okay mom?
Ugh...how long until the doctor comes?
I don't like my wife.

yeah -- you read that last one right.  He actually said to me, "I don't like my wife."  Good God, I do not know where that came from, but it was so funny that I laughed until I cried.  

Whitey

Today I was reminded about how very, very white I am.  Let me give fair warning that what you're about to read may cause horror and/or disgust -- if you like animals or can't stand the thought of eating them...just choose to ignore this post.

This afternoon my mother-in-law calls me up, "we're having some dinner here tonight, would you like to come?" I say sure.

I cooked my own food anyhow and brought it with me (thank God for this).  Turns out that my mother-in-law's food is a meal of stewed goat -- with the extra specialty of the head.  *shudder*  There she is ripping pieces of meat off the bones, then breaking the skull apart to pass out the brains.

"Here, Heather, do you want some brains?"
"No, thank you," I reply as I shrink away from her offering, "I'm way too white for that."


They laugh.  Mr. Delusional and his brothers all happily munch away on the parts that the typical western folk wouldn't dare touch.  I was happy to see my sister-in-law was equally disgusted by it all.

Then, I look up to see Adam, sitting by my mother-in-law's side - blissfully munching away on a piece of brain. "More chicken, please" he says.

I died right there.  Just felt my soul fall right out of me.  I mean, I'm not one to freak out about eating meat. I eat it all the time.  I do, however, have a problem when the meat that I'm eating looks like the animal.  A steak doesn't look like a cow plodding through a field.  A drumstick doesn't make me think of a chicken happily cock-a-doodling in the morning.  A goat head on a platter however, makes me think, "maa-a-a-aa."

I don't even have an ending for this.  I think I'll dream of poor little sad goats tonight.  :(

I'm back, did ya miss me?

So, I've been back from Mexico now for long enough that my brain has had a chance to absorb all the things that I saw there (some good, some not so good) -- don't worry, I've still got more to write on my Mexico Blog  but I have homework and kids and life to deal with first.

Which brings me to my post.  Apparently I was missed.  Poor Mr. Delusional has come to the realization that I do a lot more than he thought I did (I don't even want to know what he thought).  On Saturday, I was blissfully sleeping in and he did a load of laundry *gasp* -- sure, he messed up my routine, but I forgave him.  The kids were making their own lunches all week Adam has started weaning himself from his blanket...I feel like somehow I missed out on a whole lot while I was gone.

Things were back to normal pretty quickly though. Iman and Isaac were squabbling, Adam getting into things he shouldn't and me stuck doing all those chores that I really hate - like grocery shopping.  On Mother's Day.  Woot. Woot.

Not much else happened for me on Mother's Day - I got a home-made card from Isaac, spent some quality time with Iman, and visited with friends.  At bed time, as I snuggled with Adam, he kissed me on the cheek then sat there rubbing it for a bit.  "What are you doing?" I asked.  "Rubbing my love in so that it reaches your heart." he said.

Best. Mother's Day. EVER.

(Oh - a post script to my own mom - There is an entire post developing in my brain - dedicated to you and your awesomeness.  I can never thank you enough for everything you've done.  Love you.)