Emnet meets Nebulizer

Emnet had this persistent congestion and the doc prescribed a nebulizer. For those of you who are unfamiliar with nebulizers, it is a small air compressor that delivers air through a surgical tube to a mouthpiece. In the mouthpiece is a small vial of medicine. The compressed air interacts with the medicine to create a fine mist that flows from the mouthpiece and into the lungs and nasal passages of the patient. Emnet was prescribed a treatment in the morning and in the evening.

Now envision this.

It's bedtime. The lights are dimmed. Emnet is in Colleen's lap and Meron is snuggled beside them in the sofa. I am on the other side. The nebulizer emerges from Emnets mouth trailing a thin trail of smoke. She sighs, her eyes roll back for an instant, and she passes mouthpiece to Meron. Meron takes a hit, smiles, and coos. Then Emnet takes another hit. Then tries to pass it to me. I defer, so Ement just cuddles the mouthpiece against her chest like it was a teddy bear. The expressions on their sleepy faces, their slow motion movements, the dim light, and the fact that the mouthpiece looks eerily like a bong had me cracking up.

It looked like a Saturday Night Live skit of a rastafarian potfest.

Our new friend Bella

There is an Ethiopian woman, Bella, who lives nearby and we learned about through a mutual friend. She invited is to her home Sunday afternoon. What a treat!!!

As we walked in, we were greeted by about a dozen relatives of hers, all jabbering in Amharic. They whisked our girls into their arms, starting pinching their cheeks and telling them how beautiful they are.

Then they led us to the kitchen where they had prepared a huge Ethiopian dinner with injera breads and many stews and dishes. Meron was in heaven. She chowed and chowed. Ethiopian music was playing in the stereo and Bella prepared a coffee ceremony in the traditional style. We had a total blast!!

First time snow sledding

I took the girls out in a little plastic sled near our home, gave them a gentle push, and they swooshed down to slope. No spills and no collisions. Meron was laughing hysterically and yelling "endeggena!!"

So I grab the rope on the front of the sled and begin schlepping them back up the hill. I look back and see Meron making this whipping motion with her right hand, like I am her donkey or something, and screeching "Fatah!! Fatah!!" (quickly, quickly)

Meron makes Mockery

Grammy gave Meron two little purses with a few pennies in them and told her to share with Emnet. Coming from an area of great deprivation, the girls are unfamiliar with the concept of sharing. This really took some work.

I sat and rocked Meron for about 40 minutes, repeating the mantra " Emnet oo dah jee ah bra choo tetch ah too" (Love your sister Emnet. Share with her.) Finally, just as I was about to lose my voice, Meron ponied up two pennies for Emnet. I called it a moral victory and moved on. Colleen and I made a mental note to each other that we have work to do in the sharing department and we would role model sharing at every opportunity.

Fast forward to later in the day. Meron is suspiciously quiet. When I find her, she has my Amharic Journal cracked open and is repeating "Emnet oo dah jee. Emnet oo dah jee." With her left hand on her hip, her right finger wagging, and this really sassy expression on her face. When she realized I was watching, she slammed the book shut, tried to look all non-chalant, giggled a little, and said "Allo Daddy!!".

The little peanut was totally mocking me!!!

Meron meets snowstorm

Friday afternoon was the first real snowstorm the girls have experienced. And Meron has become a real Daddy'd girl lately. So when I stepped outside to fire up the snowblower, Meron had a fit. Colleen finally rapped on the window and insisted that I had to come inside.

That's a problem because, at that moment, our cars were blocking in the road because the drive way wasn't plowed. So I had to clear the driveway, to park the cars, to clear the road. It just could not wait.

So I bundled Meron up, placed her in one of those LLBean type kid carrier backpacks, and off we went to clear the driveway. This was a wicked storm. Hard and sharp icy flakes were driven almost horizontal by the wind whipping off the lake. You could not face the wind for more than a few seconds without getting a brain freeze.

Meron hung in there like a champ - laughing and smiling the whole time. When we were finished, I expected her to be half frostbitten. Instead, she looked up at me with her big beautiful smile and said "Endeggena!" (lets do it again!)

Emnet meets beans

Colleen's family has a long history of baking slow cooked beans in the traditional crock pot. Save the fart jokes for later (hint, they are coming).

Today we were at Colleen's parents around lunch time, and the first pot was just coming out of the oven. Naturally, we want the kids to try new things so we can see what they enjoy. Emnet went to town on these beans like it was the Cony Island Hot Dog Eating Contest. She ate three heaping bowls, then she wanted to drink the bean broth. We showed her how to sop up broth with bread, and she ate nearly half a loaf of Italian Bread sopping up the bean broth.

Coincidentally (I think), my dad and Joan had just given us a custom made kids potty. It is really cute with a toilet paper roller built into one side and a magazine rack built into the other side.

Fast forward 18 hours. Emnets bowels are hyper active. She is only two so can't consistently distinguish between a fart and the real deal. The new potty got so much use that I have to replace the seat and pump the septic system. We kept some windows cracked in order to alleviate dangerous levels of methane accumulation. Meron just stared in slackjawed disbelief, and privately thanker her God that she had eaten chicken instead.

Leo as Marge Simpsons' sisters

Wednesday was the day from hell. Colleen had to go into the office for the morning on short notice. Which meant I, also on short notice and under protest, had to wake, bathe, and feed the kids, and keep them entertained until the Nannie arrived shortly after 8. I know. Sounds easy. I'll remind you the kids get up around 5:15AM, they don't speak English, and they are still attention starved.

It gets worse.

The Nannie arrives and I still have not had a shower, shaved, brushed my teeth or had anything to eat or drink. My blood sugar was below zero, the kids were swinging from the chandelier, and they were cranking out about 300 decibels each.

The look in the Nannies face as she crossed the threshold said it all. I looked like the male version of those caricature housewives. You know, housecoat, slippers, hair in curlers, 5 oclock shadow, and behaving like a stoner. It was ridiculous.

The Nannie nicknamed me Hagrid, after that guy in the first Harry Potter movie. It's not fair. I used to be so handsome and svelte.