Daysleeping

This book came out this spring, and though I almost never buy a book rather than borrowing it (because I would bankrupt nations if I had to pay to feed my reading habit), and usually if I do buy it, I'll wait stubbornly for the paperback to come out, I pre-ordered this one.  I've read some short pieces by the author that I've liked, and I thought she might have some practical tips about where to go and what to do when traveling further afield with kids.  I was also in the midst of spending a lot of time thinking about what defines home, and it seemed like this book might be kind of destined for me. If you're interested, I'd probably give it four stars out of five.  It's interesting and thoughtful and heartfelt.  I'll happily send you my copy if you'd like (and if you're willing to wait a few weeks for it). I read about half of it before we left in in June, and I picked it up today because I've finished my library books, we don't have wi-fi or

I'm not entirely obsessed with food (maybe?), but I do like to eat, and a good portion of my job is to feed people.  And they have to eat all the time, like three times a day, so much of my struggle at this point is figuring out how to put food on my family (thanks forever to George W Bush for that turn of phrase). With luck, I need to make reasonably healthy, fresh food that my children will actually eat, in reasonable enough variety that I'm not super bored making the same stuff all the time. So yes, I make it harder than it probably needs to be, but I like the challenge of doing anything well, and there does seem to be a unique heart-tummy connection. When I make their favorite foods, I'm not only nourishing my children physically, I'm also loving them in a tangible way. That's a widely accepted thing, right? There are foods that make you feel better because they're love-foods, and there are certain meals for everyone that make you feel immediately at home. 

Stuff I had to take pictures of today on our short walk from the library to downtown.  It's like this place just grabs you by the shirtfront and says LOOK AT THIS!!

DISCLAIMER: Today's post is about the toilet in my new apartment and my experiences trying to figure out its many functions. If, like me, you share a sense of humor with your average nine-year-old and think that butts and bodily functions are HI-larious, please continue reading.  If you'd just rather not even think about such things, no worries, but skip this entry and please come back another time. So, I'm going to need to name my toilet.  I've spent more quality time with it in the past 24 hours than I have with most humans in the past month, and it even leaves the light on for me. We are kind of at the defining our relationship stage of intimacy, so I need to at least know how to address my new friend, but there's no way I can approach a glowing toilet bowl in the dark, y'all.  I've seen all the 80s horror movies, and I know for sure that's the kind of situation where something alive reaches up and drags you down forever.  It's a good thing I have

We visited the National Orchid Garden today. If you like flowers and the British monarchy, come enjoy my pictures. If not, this is probably not the post for you.  My children aren't really fans of either flowers or the monarchy, but we rode the MRT to get there, and I bought them fries for lunch and let them get a map of the garden and navigate, so they humored me.  I also didn't object to their desire to sit on every bench along the way. Yes, every bench. Which means we were there for four hours.  To be fair, it was 1.3km from the station to the orchid garden and then again to get back, so there was a good bit of walking, and it was hot. We also saw turtles and flying squirrels, so it wasn't only stuff I was interested in. But the orchids were amazing.  My favorite section featured orchid hybrids that had been specially created to honor the visits of political figures from around the world. I'd love to know how they decided which flowers might best suit each VIP, but e

Going to the grocery store is not just a small errand, anymore.  It's an epic battle and an unsolvable puzzle, and each of the seven trips I've made so far in this country have been Pyrrhic victories at best.  Or, I'm just a wee bit melodramatic.  But it has been tough.  Grocery shopping in a new country is the best metaphor I've thought of so far for making a trans-continental move.  It theoretically shouldn't be that hard, but for some reason you're totally thwarted at every step.  My children, bewilderingly, need to eat several times a day, so I can't put off buying food for them.  After three weeks, I'm making progress, but it's felt each time like a video game where you have to build a world but begin with a completely dark map.  Worse, it feels sometimes like I'm trying to navigate a new place but I have a map from another place to help me navigate. I don't know where I need to go and I can't even begin to figure out how to get ther

Minor victory today--we made it to the library!  We've intended to go several times but have been deterred by weather or general laziness, but both kids were on at least a third re-reading of their "new" books and our need was dire.  We took the MRT (Mass Rapid Transit--the subway).  Both kids are pros. At looking nonchalant, at least.   I discovered when I was here in September that riders of the MRT can NOT hesitate either getting on the train or the escalator.  There's a massive crowd of people, and they will not politely let a lady with kids in tow go first (or an older person, or a woman in precarious-looking shoes, or anyone at all.  The name of the game is SHOVE IN FRONT OF EVERYONE IN YOUR WAY RIGHT NOW).  Also, eye contact is strictly forbidden.  I have a problem with this in general; I know no eye-contact is probably de riguer for public transportation everywhere, but I like looking at people.  And at home, I'm probably going to smile at you if you look