social calender

I have no need of a social calender. I just let my kids do it for me. A party every day this weekend. It may take most of the next week to get the junk food out of their systems. We had our holiday in Australia last month and they had a busy social calender there, too. In fact, Thor even made plans with Thomas the Tank engine for a visit in two year's time.

making plans for the next visit with Thomas

Sweetpea also underwent the ritual 'first hair cut' while we were in Australia. What an opportunity to primp and priss.

nothing beats being the center of attention

new game

The following directions issued to me by Princess prior to starting to the game:

Mommy, pretend you're still forty. You're not old. We'll just pretend.

you know you live . . .

You know you live in South Asia when you watch you're at kiddieland and you watch your four year old son climb on the front of the toy jet ski followed by your five year old daughter hopping on the back - sidesaddle.

We were just sorry we didn't have the camera, but if you don't know what I'm talking about here's a picture of a common sight in our part of the world.

Yeah, we're faking it, but most people aren't

just life

Kids are in the other room singing 'Scary Jockay' (frere Jacque) at the top of their voices. Thor is dressing himself at the speed of a very slow snail. Princess is contemplating her collection of 'beautiful dresses' to wear to a school function tonight and Smuglet is busy swiping her cleaning cloth over anything that doesn't move - and some things that do. A day in the life . . .

Going to May

Two weeks ago we went to May. “Now”, you might say, “honey, your time is off. The rest of the world had been in May for at least three weeks.” And you’d be right, too, if we weren’t talking about three year old logic.

Thor has a birthday in May and he’s been VERY excited about his birthday at least since January – when Princess had hers. In February he found his perfect gift and never looked back. All discussion was about going to May and getting his sky train* when he got there.

Being a logical adult, I assumed going to May was just a cute little boy way of saying ‘when May comes’. But soon hubby and I discovered it wasn’t. First there was the question of ‘how are we going to get to May?’ This was shortly followed by ‘are we in May yet?’ and other similar questions.

the before May birthday

Then we complicated matters by deciding to take a trip to the US in (you guessed it) May. And we talked about flying on an airplane to America. The next question from Thor went something like this:
Thor: ‘mommy, how are we going to get to May?’
Me: ‘well, honey, May will come to us.’
Thor: ‘no, I think we’ll use a jumbo jet’
Me: ‘we might use a jumbo jet to get to America’
Thor: ‘I want a sky train* when we get to May.’
And on and on and on . . .

*skytrain is an elevated train patterned after the train at the Dallas Fort Worth airport

As we approached May, even Princess joined in the efforts to sort out the great May/America conundrum. But to no avail. Thor continued to insist on ‘going to May’.

And finally – May came. We announced the happy event only to be met with tears and frustration that ‘we are not at May’. And then things got even more complicated. Thor’s birthday arrived. We asked him how it felt to be a big four years old only to be told rather emphatically that he was NOT four. He was only three because we weren’t in May yet.

the official May cake

At this point hubby and I accepted May for what it was (and encouraged Princess to do the same). Fortunately, two days later we left for America (and May, too). And somewhere on our flight over the arctic circle, Thor suddenly turned four.

May is full of all sorts of surprises

restaurant ambiance - by guest writer Peter

We’ve been to lots of restaurants. The normal thing, softish music, the hum of the air conditioner, kids squirming in plastic chairs while we join those around us eating.

those horrible plastic chairs

Tonight was somewhat different for us. This weekend is the strange merging of a popular kite flying festival with a major showdown between the political opposition and police, causing road closures, hundreds of arrests and running street violence on the other side of town. All this meant that our night out was rather quiet as most people stayed home. The traffic was light, with very few motor bikes (they’re banned at the moment) leaving the horses to compete with cars and trucks for the road space.

even riots can't stop a man with chairs and a horse

We went to an outdoor restaurant, built on the forecourt of a nearby stadium. We like this restaurant because it has a playground for the kids, so they can go on swings and slides while we wait for the food to come.

We sat under the fading evening sky and watched literally thousands of paper kites compete for air space. Much of the flying is competitive, opponents try to cut each other’s string with theirs. Any victory results in a lost kite for the loser and is frequently celebrated by aerial gun fire. So above the background hum of the traffic is near constant gun fire, also supplemented by the police gun fire in the riot on the other side of town.

We don’t know much about guns, but we are learning. During dinner Sonia pointed out the distinctive percussive rattle of an AK-47. She heard a major gunfight in the town a couple of weeks ago, one that included hand grenades and RPG fire.

The restaurant is classic. The greeter at the entrance is also the security guard. He carries a shot gun, a belt of shells and wears the biggest turban you have ever seen.

the ubiquitous rickshaw - little girls' favorites

While we were sitting on a string bed at the table eating our curry and bread with our hands, a rickshaw drove into the restaurant, right past our table and up to the outdoor kitchen. After someone got out, it backed up and left. I’ve never had to deal with traffic when walking from one table to another before. Meanwhile on the road outside a fully armed military convoy, complete with wailing sirens, over a dozen troops, 2 ambulances and an armed car accompany a VIP on his way somewhere.

From the loudspeaker of a different nearby eating establishment, music wafts through the air. This was soon drowned out when our own restaurant put on competing music. A CD of ‘sitar classics’ mixed with the local techno jibe to create an all encompassing musical din, punctuated with more gunfire signaling the end of yet another successful kite fight or a deterioration in the riot situation.

And thus ended another night under the stars (which we can’t see cause of the smog)

By the way, we love visitors. Wanna come?

cakes and things

Okay, I'm a delinquent blogger. So delinquent, in fact, that if anyone reads this it will be a miracle. I won't bore you with excuses, but I would like to show you my excuses from the last three weeks.

This is the first one.

Its owner turned 5 a few weeks ago. She insisted the castle cake was the one for her. After having someone run all over the city looking for ice cream cones (apparently ice cream cones are NOT a winter food in south Asia), we finally found some.

I made the cakes the day before I needed them then the night before the big birthday, I set to work. Once the kids were in bed, the whole armada came out and I carefully placed bits and pieces of chocolate cake in strategic locations. Then I began to frost. After about an hour, I came to the conclusion that the cake looked more like one of the sesame street monsters (you know, the one with horns) than a castle. Much to my dismay, this opinion did not change during the following hour. We had house guests so I had a nice group of hecklers gathered around aforementioned cake.

it's a little less muppet-like

Eventually, once I added lots of decorative candy, some strategically placed cookies, and a few toothpicks to hold the ice cream cones (turrets, or horns as the case may be) in place things looked up a bit.

Princess (the castle's resident five year old) was happy.

And it stayed together on a trip over local roads to Princess' school where we shared it with a class of hungry five year olds!



My second excuse turned one almost exactly a week later. Now hubby had kindly advised me that Sweetpea really wouldn't notice what sort of cake she had. After cooking seven batches of chocolate cake (as well as one carrot cake and two pans of brownies) in the last week I though, 'what the heck, what's one more?!'.


So I baked two more batches of chocolate cake. Now Sweetpea isn't big enough to pick a cake for herself - thankfully. And I was smart enough not to consult Thor and Princess. I just chose two 'simple' designs and planned to use up some left over blue frosting for one. I decided on a butterfly and a 'present' cake. They both looked easy, right?


Well, the butterfly, amazingly, was the easy one. Really, any pretty and colorful design goes on a butterfly. The present was another story. The present itself wasn't that hard, but try designing a frosting ribbon with lumpy frosting. That was such a no-go that I eventually gave in and got out regular ribbon. Toothpicks are my friend and I attached a nice bow to the center. Much better.


Princess and Thor always like to get into the game so I let them decorate the butterfly with colored sugar. Then I gave them jelly bears to decorate the 'wrapping paper' with. And careful instructions to spread the jelly bears all around - including the sides. Then, like an idiot, I left the room. When I returned I found attractive pink wrapping paper around the sides and a solid mass of teddy bears over the entire top of the cake. And not to miss his opportunity, Thor managed to jam at least ten jelly bears deep into the cake.

The final result

Once I rescued the cake, we carefully transported it to the back of our car (see previous posting under planet pete) to a friend's house for dinner. And Sweetpea got her first taste of chocolate cake. This is what she thought.

And they say KFC is finger lickin' good

And lest you think Thor got left out of all this, think again. He was front and center for every piece of chocolate cake he could get his hands on.

Gimme that, gimme that, gimme that cake (sorry Wiggles)