You may not realize this because Colleen is usually a genuinely sweet and kind person, but in her private moments she was a vocal critic of women who hired nannies and housekeepers, especially if those women were stay at home moms. My how the tables turn.
After less than a week with Meron and Emnet, Colleen and I both knew 100% we needed a day Nannie. I did not even flinch. So those of you who know me can appreciate how serious this need is. It is the ultimate necessary expense. Nannie started yesterday.
So last night, on my commute home, I called Colleen's Mom to ask if she had visited that day and what she thought of the new Nannie. My mother in law replied "I didn't get to spend much time with the Nannie because the cleaning lady was making too much noise." Mind you, a cleaning lady had never been a topic of discussion in our house.
Later last night I told Colleen "Your Mother made the strangest remark today." and repeated the above story. Colleen had that total "I been busted" look on her face. I said "Colleen. Of course you realize you have become the woman you always despised." Between her laughter and her tears she said " I know. I know. I just can't believe it."
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
I love my Jeans
One of Meron's friends, Lily, gave us a bag of used clothes. Among other things was a pair of jeans decorated with dozens of rhinestones down one leg. Meron was immediately in love with these jeans. Never mind that they were about 12 inches too long in the leg. She rolled them up so she did not trip on them and has worn them for about 4 days straight. Remember what a clean freak she is? Meron made the exception for these jeans. She is obsessed!!
So, today Meron spills some water on the jeans. She was having a fit because, on the one hand, she knows the jeans are wet and uncomfortable and she has to change, but on the other hand, she cannot bear the thought of not wearing these jeans. So she paces back and forth back and forth, trying to figure out what to do. Her little wheels are turning. Finally, after about 10 minutes of this, she gives in.
Meron goes into the far corner of the bedroom and tries to surreptitiously change her pants. She does not want Emnet to know because she is afraid Emnet will hide the jeans on her. Meron rolls the rhinestone jeans up in ball and hides them under her pillow to dry. About an hour later, she checks on the jeans, and realizes they will not dry this way. Now totally flustered, Meron remembers seeing her mother use a blow dryer to dry her hair. Meron spends about 10 minutes trying to explain to Colleen what her idea is. Finally, in exasperation, Meron runs to Colleens dresser drawers and begins a systemic search for the blow dryer.
Colleen finally understands what Meron is up to, dries the jeans, and Meron immediately puts them back on. Safe from Emnet, the mean jean hider.
So, today Meron spills some water on the jeans. She was having a fit because, on the one hand, she knows the jeans are wet and uncomfortable and she has to change, but on the other hand, she cannot bear the thought of not wearing these jeans. So she paces back and forth back and forth, trying to figure out what to do. Her little wheels are turning. Finally, after about 10 minutes of this, she gives in.
Meron goes into the far corner of the bedroom and tries to surreptitiously change her pants. She does not want Emnet to know because she is afraid Emnet will hide the jeans on her. Meron rolls the rhinestone jeans up in ball and hides them under her pillow to dry. About an hour later, she checks on the jeans, and realizes they will not dry this way. Now totally flustered, Meron remembers seeing her mother use a blow dryer to dry her hair. Meron spends about 10 minutes trying to explain to Colleen what her idea is. Finally, in exasperation, Meron runs to Colleens dresser drawers and begins a systemic search for the blow dryer.
Colleen finally understands what Meron is up to, dries the jeans, and Meron immediately puts them back on. Safe from Emnet, the mean jean hider.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Oncolat
Oncolat means 'egg' in Amharic. I presume eggs were rare and valuable for our girls, because they cannot get enough of them. The girls are constantly asking for eggs, three meals a day. They will sit on the stairs and kick their feet in rhythym chanting 'Oncolat! Oncolat! Oncolat!" I buy the 18 packs of eggs two at a time.
This morning I made Meron a three egg omelette. You'd think that would be plenty for a 4 year old girl.
After serving Meron, I cracked an egg to cook for Emnet. As soon as Meron heard the egg crack, she started wolfing her omelette. Seriously, she practically slid the thing off her plate and down her gullet in one motion.
And you could see the wheels spinning in her panicked little head. "oh my god. oh my god. I have to clean my plate before that egg is cooked, otherwise Emnet will get the whole thing to herself. Can't allow that. Can't allow that."
This morning I made Meron a three egg omelette. You'd think that would be plenty for a 4 year old girl.
After serving Meron, I cracked an egg to cook for Emnet. As soon as Meron heard the egg crack, she started wolfing her omelette. Seriously, she practically slid the thing off her plate and down her gullet in one motion.
And you could see the wheels spinning in her panicked little head. "oh my god. oh my god. I have to clean my plate before that egg is cooked, otherwise Emnet will get the whole thing to herself. Can't allow that. Can't allow that."
My cousin Camilla
Sunday we attended a baby shower for my brother and his fiancee. Yes, I know, cart before the horse. But that's for another blog. This is the first time the girls will meet many of their extended family.
Emnet handles it great. Sticking her tongue out at everyone, hiding her cute face behind her mothers shoulder, and generally flirting her butt off with everyone. Meron was much more timid, and I had to take her out into the lobby for a little seperation from the madness.
Our cousin Camilla, a cute and precocious five year old, decides this is a good opportunity to meet Meron.
Camilla: Hi. You're my cousin. Are you really from Africa? My Mom says you're from Africa.
Meron: Blank stare that says "I have no idea who you are or what you're saying. "
Camilla: Why won't you talk to me?
Me: Camilla. Meron does not speak English. She does not know what you're saying.
Now Camilla is staring at Meron's skin, so I invite her to touch Meron.
Camilla (holding Merons hand and flipping it over): Well, why is her hand really dark on one side (the back) and almost white on the other side (palm)?
Me: That's the way God made her.
Camilla: Did God make her hair like that, too? (referencing the 10,000 braids on Merons head)
Me: No, a hairdresser at the beauty parlor did that.
Camilla (to Meron): How do you say "Dog" in your country?
Meron (thinking): You're killing me here.
Me (to Camilla): She does not understand what you are asking her.
Camilla: Oh come on. Everyone knows the word for dog. That's an easy word. I learned it in pre-school.
Mercifully, Meron notifies me she has to go pee, giving us a graceful exit opportunity.
Later in the day, I spy Emnet lying on the floor on her belly, feet flipped up over her butt, and her chin in her hand. She is flicking her tongue in and out. Facing her is Camilla, trying to catch Emnet's tongue with her fingers. I haven't mentioned that Emnet has a gigantic tongue. Seriously, she can lick her eyebrows. She is the Ethiopian Gene Simmons. It was just too funny watching Emnet flicking her tongue all over the room and Camilla trying to grab it.
Emnet handles it great. Sticking her tongue out at everyone, hiding her cute face behind her mothers shoulder, and generally flirting her butt off with everyone. Meron was much more timid, and I had to take her out into the lobby for a little seperation from the madness.
Our cousin Camilla, a cute and precocious five year old, decides this is a good opportunity to meet Meron.
Camilla: Hi. You're my cousin. Are you really from Africa? My Mom says you're from Africa.
Meron: Blank stare that says "I have no idea who you are or what you're saying. "
Camilla: Why won't you talk to me?
Me: Camilla. Meron does not speak English. She does not know what you're saying.
Now Camilla is staring at Meron's skin, so I invite her to touch Meron.
Camilla (holding Merons hand and flipping it over): Well, why is her hand really dark on one side (the back) and almost white on the other side (palm)?
Me: That's the way God made her.
Camilla: Did God make her hair like that, too? (referencing the 10,000 braids on Merons head)
Me: No, a hairdresser at the beauty parlor did that.
Camilla (to Meron): How do you say "Dog" in your country?
Meron (thinking): You're killing me here.
Me (to Camilla): She does not understand what you are asking her.
Camilla: Oh come on. Everyone knows the word for dog. That's an easy word. I learned it in pre-school.
Mercifully, Meron notifies me she has to go pee, giving us a graceful exit opportunity.
Later in the day, I spy Emnet lying on the floor on her belly, feet flipped up over her butt, and her chin in her hand. She is flicking her tongue in and out. Facing her is Camilla, trying to catch Emnet's tongue with her fingers. I haven't mentioned that Emnet has a gigantic tongue. Seriously, she can lick her eyebrows. She is the Ethiopian Gene Simmons. It was just too funny watching Emnet flicking her tongue all over the room and Camilla trying to grab it.
Wash my shoes
On Saturday afternoon we took the girls for their first walk outside. FYI, we live on a gravel road and a little bit of thawing occurred. The walk was great, we return home, have dinner, play a few games and go to bed.
Fast forward to Sunday AM. We are rushing to get the girls dressed and out of the house to attend a variety of family events today. Meron goes to put on her shoes, sees gravel on the soles of the shoes, and will not wear them. "Nupioa, chamma koshasha!!" she says. (these shoes are dirty and I refuse to wear them)
So I took the shoes to the sink and gave the soles a once over with the spray nozzle. Total time elapsed = 15 seconds. Tears shed = zero. Tantrums thrown - also zero. This is a good trade.
Fast forward to Sunday AM. We are rushing to get the girls dressed and out of the house to attend a variety of family events today. Meron goes to put on her shoes, sees gravel on the soles of the shoes, and will not wear them. "Nupioa, chamma koshasha!!" she says. (these shoes are dirty and I refuse to wear them)
So I took the shoes to the sink and gave the soles a once over with the spray nozzle. Total time elapsed = 15 seconds. Tears shed = zero. Tantrums thrown - also zero. This is a good trade.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Meron Fashionista
Today one of the women I work with gave me two lovely fleece vests for the girls in their favorite colours. The girls tried them on and loved them. They were prancing around the house all beaming and proud.
Then Meron looks at me, all serious, and says "soo lay ah kah sah kwo". I have no idea what this means. Meron keeps repeating it more insistently, and with greater displays of disgust, like 20 times this goes on. Then Meron gently cradles my face in her hands, looks me in the eyes really sweet, and says " soo lay ah kah sah kwo". As if showing me some love will make me understand. I try to get Meron to move on, but she just won't let it go. Finally, I ring Belle on the phone and ask her to interpret.
Meron was saying "You forgot the pants to match the coat." How in the world does an orphan who had one set of clothes her entire life learn to think that way? I swear it is genetic with women.
Then Meron looks at me, all serious, and says "soo lay ah kah sah kwo". I have no idea what this means. Meron keeps repeating it more insistently, and with greater displays of disgust, like 20 times this goes on. Then Meron gently cradles my face in her hands, looks me in the eyes really sweet, and says " soo lay ah kah sah kwo". As if showing me some love will make me understand. I try to get Meron to move on, but she just won't let it go. Finally, I ring Belle on the phone and ask her to interpret.
Meron was saying "You forgot the pants to match the coat." How in the world does an orphan who had one set of clothes her entire life learn to think that way? I swear it is genetic with women.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Emnet meets shampoo
I haven't described how fastidiously clean our girls are. They want to bathe like four times a day. They are constantly washing their hands and asking to brush their teeth. Meron loves to do the dishes. That is our evening bonding activity. And both girls want to change their clothes several times a day. Meron will not wear athletic socks that have any stains on them, even if they are fresh from the laundry. In fact, Meron has this little chant that she sings "Koshasha koshasha". Which loosely translated means "These freaking things are filthy".
So now you get the picture.
Fast forward to today. This afternoon Emnet wanted to take another bath. Colleen was tired and said "No". Emnet soft pedaled it and waited for Colleen to turn her attention elsewhere. Then Emnet snuck into the bathroom, pulled the shampoo, and coated her head with it. Then Emnet went to find Colleen and ask for her bath again.
So now you get the picture.
Fast forward to today. This afternoon Emnet wanted to take another bath. Colleen was tired and said "No". Emnet soft pedaled it and waited for Colleen to turn her attention elsewhere. Then Emnet snuck into the bathroom, pulled the shampoo, and coated her head with it. Then Emnet went to find Colleen and ask for her bath again.
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