softened over the years

I know there are many things that people grow hardened to over the years - television, news, games, doctors of traumas, teachers of students, the fear new moms experience, and so on.  It's a survival mechanism - because to feel, to feel things deeply, always, can be debilitating.  

But, I think I'm the opposite.  I was built in reverse.

When I started out driving ambulance - I took care of and assisted the injured or ill.  I hated the ambulance jokes people made - people, in their misery, still make me want to cry.
Or gag.
It didn't bother me in the beginning.  But by the end of my 5 year stint there were times I carried a barf tray along with the patient.
I took empathy to whole new level.

Teaching - when I began, I was stoic.  I barely showed a reaction.  I felt a great deal, but I iced myself out from the students.  I kept an emotional distance in a sense.  I'm not sure why.  And as the years go on, I'm getting better at seeing individuals.  And I see enough, to know I hardly see anything.

Even as a mother - my first opened my eyes to so many experiences.  My third has only made me cherish these moments more.  I am more sensitive.

I never dreamed of being married or having children.  They were ideas I assumed I would experience - and since I have, it's like the dream was awakened and grows every year.  I sigh when I see wedding dresses and babies.

This is the way I'd prefer to keep it, softer, not hardened.

okay fine, I'm back

I live many lives today.  But I'll only relive the one before bed.

I had FaceTime on and had set my iPad up so my parents could watch and talk to Tuana.  Tuana was in quite the mood, chatting to them, showing them things, giggling and seemingly alternating between playing and being coy.

She had pulled my hand and led me over to the cabinet, pointing at the play-dough.  I pulled the box down and she was busy.  She soon brought the canister over to me, saying, "Help."  She knows that word well.  As do I - and so I immediately understood and opened it up for her.

I went to get the shower ready for Teoman and Tomris, and Tuana called after me.  "Mama!"  She came and found me, took my hand, and led me back to the table - pointing to the chair I had been sitting in - directing me to join her once again.

I smiled, and paused for only a moment before running away to finish getting the kids in the shower and grab a broom for the kitchen.  Tuana was squawking after me.  I sat down and we cleaned it up together and she handed me the box.

I don't know where she got this in her head, but she went over to the freezer next, found the ice cream, and said to me, "Die deem!"
"No sweetheart-"
(scream)
"-you already had a treat."
(Scream.  fight with door.)  I left her to her tantrum and came back.  She was not giving up on the ice cream.  I repeated it to her several times, and she just got madder.

I gave in.  I gave in because I figure she's still too young to know what she's doing, and she's too tired or frustrated with language to express it.  I put some in a bowl for her.  She was sitting at the table and I gave her the bowl and she threw it.  The chair wasn't right, the table wasn't right, the bowl and the ice cream weren't quite right.  She pushed her chair down.

Nuclear meltdown.

Tuana is 19 months old and when she gets mad, we all know.  And when she loses it, she has a hard time recovering.  I don't know why, I'm not sure the trigger ... but I know the feeling because I'm afraid sometimes that I too never developed emotionally beyond, apparently, a 19 month old - because I'm pretty sure I had a similar tantrum today.

sigh.

The end

My blogging days are done.

saturday

I went to bed early.  I was exhausted.  School has started and everyday I'm feeling stressed exhausted.  Work is hanging over me.  Work and frustration.  And then there's my kids.  Needing my full attention - and I can't do my work.  Nor can I escape my house to do it.  Nor do I want to.  So I delay. I resent my work.  And I get frustrated with my kids.  They seemed to fight all morning.  We made french toast, then I packed us all into the car with a stroller, skateboard, and bike.  We went to the park and played for couple of hours but the fighting, crying continued.
Are they as tired as me?
We went home and Tuana slept.  Teoman and Tomris played quietly some but it took HOURS for them to cleanup - I had promised them cookies, but there was no butter.  I offered popcorn as back up - but went to he cupboards and found the popcorn all gone.  Every. Last. Kernel. That's living with Gokhan.  I've nicknamed him The Finisher, because that's what he does.  Finishes things and doesn't replace them because "I forgot."  He lived by himself most of the summer and put on at least 20 pounds with all that freedom he had - with no one to hold him accountable, no one to answer to, no one's health to look after - he was free.  But freedom to Gokhan meant fried eggs in butter with potatoes, french fries, popcorn, and sunflower seeds.  Butter and salt.

I'm the quasi-leader

B sits through these meetings looking mildly annoyed.
That was the comment from my British colleague and I thought it was an understatement.  I had stayed up late preparing for the meeting with my team today - hoping to lay out what we were doing over the next week-and-a-half.  

First we went over the exam to finalize.  Tim and Tatiana seemed like they had no idea what was going on.  B had her head in her computer doing something else.  At one point I said,
"I need someone to answer me, give a response, nod a head, agree or disagree."
Young Brooke stepped in.  She worked with us last year and seems to be on top of things.

We ended the meeting barely getting through the exam, and I still had four more things on the agenda.  Everyone left and B said "we didn't talk about my spreadsheet."
We didn't talk about a lot of things.
B's spreadsheet is five linked pages with 8 major grades that have tabs to those each link of smaller grades that feed into it.  There are spaces to fill in over a hundred marks - and they will be individual and have to be searched for because our reading groups are mixed classes.  Her spreadsheet is horrifying.
"Um.. I was hoping we could lessen the number of marks to like, four.  One a week for the first unit."
"Then I will have to change EVERYTHING I planned."
"Yes, I noticed you put some things on the Drive, they were amazing - is this what you're planning on doing."
"Yes, with my group, because I have the higher group.  You might do something different with your group."

Like only four marks rather than a kajillion.  The woman is crazy and pulling me into her crazy.  I am supposed to be running this side show, but it was her baby, and she is running the whole middle school English program now ... but she seems to have plans in place for us already.   Which, I wouldn't mind - but the whole reason I stepped in was to avoid this "secret or surprise" methodology of hers.  Surprise!  I plan on giving a hundred marks this semester.

I'm so ready to quit

Another First Day

It was the kids first day of school today.  Teoman was up at 5:50am and dressed.  He woke up Tomris, and by 6:45 they had their backpacks on and were ready to go.  Tuana did too.  We went downstairs and waited for abla to arrive.  Zuleyha came and the kids all got in Tolga's truck.  Even Tuana - so when Tolga handed her back through the window, Tuana was shocked, and then cried.
We never leave her behind - it made me wish we had a fourth child so she wouldn't be alone.

Tolga brought Tomris up to the pre-school, I brought Teoman down to the kindergarten.  They were starting at the same time.  All the parents and eager children.  Teoman and Tomris were excited enough that they didn't have any panic attacks or crying fits - in fact, Tomris, who I was a little worried about happened to be in class with a new friend we made at the end of last year, Ruth.  An American family that has lived here for years.

Tolga left to the field from there.  I went to teach my classes.  I taught reading class, did some paperwork and then I was already back up to the pre-school then kindergarten picking up my kids and blisters on my toes from all the walking.  They have half-days scheduled today and tomorrow so I had planned to keep them with me.  It would have taken me at least an hour to drive them home and get back, and I had this idea that I might get work done.

I can't get any work done with my kids around.  I can't do both these days, be a good mom and a teacher.  If feels like either/or.

But they had a good day.  They were excited, and they liked hanging out with me and each other.  They wondered in the front of the room distracting my students while I tried to teach.

Tomris fell asleep in the car ride home.  I stayed up late to prepare for a meeting the next day.

First Day

I can't say I love the the first day.

I spent a lot of the day shirking my responsibilities of talking about Learner Profiles and doing ice-breakers to straighten out our reading group lists with the registrar.  With last minutes changes is students coming and going I had to shuffle a few students - a still stubbornly didn't change the one student whose mother wanted her to change.

By the end of the day I had a headache.  By after dinner, I had a migraine.

Way too much excitement for the day.

the day before

My first day back at work was not so inspiring.  I met with my English writing team briefly, then a teacher-parent who wanted special treatment for her daughter.  That took a few hours.  I don't actually mind these type of parents - I can see myself in them.  But B, my colleague (I'm giving her a name now, but she's going to be a character in many scenes... sigh), didn't want to give her what she wanted on principle.  I didn't argue it too much, because she was probably right - we didn't really want to open that can of worms.  I argued for the parent, but I didn't push it - then we got input form the counselor and the principal - and they didn't want to give the parent what she wanted.  The parent wanted us to retest her daughter because the teacher was unfair and mean, the daughter was demotivated, she wanted the year to start better for her.
B wanted to reassess all the students because it seemed we didn't have valid data.
Oh god.

At home I was exhausted.  I was putting Tuana down and Tomris came running into the room:

"Mom, I heard Jesus in my belly- I mean my heart!"
"Yeah? What did he say?"
"He said ... Today is a beautiful day. And, geçmis olsun for my head."

Recovery

We had come back a day early on purpose - in hopes to avoid traffic, rest, and get ready for school.  I had lots to prepare yet - and the thought was overwhelming.  Tolga took the kids to the mall, Teoman got a haircut.  I took Tuana outside - she apparently is used to going places daily and had her shoes on at 8am.  I took her to the park, we had lunch, I put her to sleep, unpacked, did laundry.  Basically found whatever I could to not do my work.

Summer is over, and I'm definitely not ready to begin.

back to Ankara

We planned on leaving at 5am, and we were on the road at 5:45am.  In the nighttime - the kids were so tired - Teoman got up and went to the bathroom.  Tomris got up at the same time, and I followed to check on him.  He was standing at the toilet peeing, and behind him was a big poop.
Had he pooped standing up?
I'm not sure if he was aware he pooped.  I cleaned him and it up.  Tomris went to the toilet and we were all back in bed.
We went past Izmir, through the new tunnel - the road is being improved every year  especially with tunnels replacing windy roads.  We stopped at a gas station after two hours so Tolga could rest.  Except, the moment he stopped, all the kids woke up.  I entertained them for about ten minutes, and the kids wanted to get out.  I didn't blame them.  However, as soon as we started unloading them, Tolga woke up.
We stopped two hours later for a late breakfast, than three hours later for lunch and run around the McDonald's play are - or as Teoman and Tomris call it: Old MacDonald's.  From there, it was 3 1/2 hours home, and we didn't need to stop again.  It can't be comfortable for the kids to be squished into the car seats, but they do pretty well.  We arrived at 5:30pm, all exhausted.  I had brought lots of work to do in the car trip to get ready for work, but I just couldn't keep my eyes open most of the trip.  We were all exhausted.

Last day until spring

It's our last day in Kusadasi, and we most likely won't return until spring.  I long hard but wonderful summer went by too slowly and too fast at the same time.  The kids and Tolga went to the beach, I put Tuana to sleep and cleaned the house some while she slept.  I finished and rewarded myself with a beer just as Tuana woke up and we went to beach together.
Man that beer put me in a good mood.
Our friends were at the beach celebrating too.  Their Ukranian friend was leaving today - so they had beers on the beach and were eating mussels.  I joined them and we kept trying to hide the beers from David - because their one-and-a-half year old has a taste for beer.

The sea was perfect.  Clean and clear.  My kids were playing in the big inflatable boat - Adults rowing it out, and them pushing it in the shallows.  They love that boat and were excited and crying easily as well - our vacation wits' end.

We visited our uncle whose house is on the beach front where we sit.  It's a ratty overpacked duplex, rusting with the sea.  We kissed his hand, wished him iyi bayramlar.

We headed home and my cousins prepared dinner.  My youngest cousin fried everything: meat, vegetables, potatoes with pasta on the side.  They don't eat healthy generally - but this was topping it all.   My cousin's husband said,
"I won't eat pasta without butter and salt."
Begum, my cousin's 25 year old daughter said, "You ate it like this a few days ago.
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did."
Awkward.
 Baba, as always, couldn't wait to eat and my diabetic father-in-law snacked on bread, french fries, ate pasta and drank cola.  My beach friends came later, and I joked with Maria's husband to tell Baba you came to check his blood sugar.  Baba tries to be good for the doctors.  Maria's kids and mine ran around in the garden.  They kept their visit short as our kids needed to go to bed.

Tomorrow we will leave early in the morning.

Kurban bayram

My kids have learned this holiday.

They were up early, dressed and down stairs, kissed everybody's hand (after waking everyone up) and each came up with money.  Tomris asked if she could drink chocolate milk.  I said no, she said, "But it's bayram."  So I agreed.

I went down and fed the kids.  They were in such a strange mood.  Sometimes Tuana tolerates everybody changing her, sometimes she hands her clothes to her sister or brother - she is determined to do what they do, and go where they go.  Downstairs they were laughing and running around and it was hardly 8am.

Teoman wanted to know if we got a toy or just clothes for bayram, and I told him we planned and getting them shoes for school - and the pestering to leave began and never stopped.  But we still had breakfast to eat with the adults, cleanup, and we weren't even sure when the shops opened on bayram.  

We arrived at Söke mall at 11am and learned the shops didn't open until 2:30.  Teoman was not happy.  We drove to Akbut - a village on the sea, drank tea, and drove to another place to have lunch on a lake before returning to the mall.  I got sneakers, Teoman and Tomris got sneakers each (two sizes larger!) and indoor shoes.  I don't know if they do this in America - but indoor and outdoor shoes is a thing here.

At home Teoman wanted to go for a run to test his shoes out.  He didn't want character shoes this time - he wanted sport shoes.  He actually wanted a hiking boot - but we made him get the same version in a shoe form so he could run faster.  We ran to the beach and back - me running lightly, Teoman clomping heavily and unevenly.

In the end Tomris raced Teoman too.  The road is made up of pavers that are very uneven - and I had kept warning Teoman to be careful.  Tomris was wearing a dress - but had kept some pants on claiming she might fall and wanted to protect her knees.  (They both had their first skinned knees this summer - I think their first - and cried loudly and nonstop).  The raced to our gate and in the last moment of running and jumping Tomris tripped and banged her head against the open iron gate.  The gate gave way some, but it didn't stop her from earning an instant goose egg on her forehead.  It split slightly, but superficial as far as I could tell - just and intimidating bump.  Teoman came over to her and said, "whoa" and took a step back when he saw it.

water park

We had another late start on the morning.  In the end, we fulfilled our promise to take them to the water park - we didn't get there until noon, but the kids didn't care nor had they any concept of time.  We convinced our cousins to come with - Mehmet abi, our cousin's new husband had joined us too.  Last year when he came, we all felt suspicious of him - he has five kids from a previous marriage - all grown, but this year - seeing him with our kids I am grateful.  He is kind to Tuana, she is comfortable in his arms, and he's quicker than Tolga or I to stand up and check on the kids.  (I think we get a little lazy with the relatives around).  The first place we went was the pool.  Tuana was so happy playing.  The kids went down the medium-size waterslides for 10 years old and over - but they are lax on the rules and my kids could go down them with their arm flotation devices, or as I call them swimmies.  We weren't there long before Tuana started sucking her thumb.  Her tired sign.  I ask her when she does this:
"Are you tired?"  She nods her head yes several times.  "Do you want some milk and sleep?"  She nods her head and giggles, then puts her head on my shoulder.  I couldn't believe it.  Last time we were here, I had to force her to lay down, and when she did she fell asleep instantly - but this time, she was almost volunteering to put herself to sleep.  She slept an hour or two and the kids went around the water park with at least one of us always.  By the end of the day, Tomris was zipping down the steep slides, and Teoman was happy with the regular slides.

At home I stick them all in the shower, then change their clothes in the room.  They were tired but still in a good mood, dancing around the room, jumping and laughing.   I can't believe they are even functioning at the end of the day. Tolga offered them to eat and watch a show.  At the word "show" - Tuana said, "yeah!!!!" raising her arms up and dancing around the room.  She is squealing behind Teoman and Tomris always these days.  We went downstairs and while Tolga prepared food, Teoman and Tomris sat at the table.  Tuana came and took Tolga's hand demanding, "come!"  She pulled him into the living room and showed him the television remote control then sat down confidently in the armchair waiting for him to turn it on.

God in the hearts, or belly, of children

Me: God is as big as space, and he's as small as this piece of sand - even smaller.  He sent his son Jesus to save the world - he's the biggest Savior.  And if we ask him into our hearts.
Tomris: I want him in my heart.
Teoman: But if he comes in my heart will I die?
Tomris: He can't come into your heart, he's coming into mine from Mama.
Me: God is everywhere - he can be in all three of our hearts.
Teoman: How many God's are there?
Me: There's one God, and his son's name is Jesus.
Teoman: Like me and Baba - Baba's God, I'm Jesus.
Me: Sort of, Jesus can forgive us of all our mistakes.  Like when we get mad or greedy.  He can help us.  And one day we can go to heaven and we won't be mad or greedy.
Tomris: Can you ask God into my belly?  (Teoman laughed)
Me: You mean your heart?  You can ask Jesus into your heart.  You can talk to him and hear his voice.
Tomris: Will you ask for me?
Me: No, but you can repeat after me.
Tomris: God, will come into my heart?
(pause)
Tomris: I don't feel anything.
Teoman: Jesus will you come into my heart.
(pause)
Teoman: I don't hear anything.
Me: Let me listen.  Oooh, he's got a whole bunch of great things to say about you!
Teoman: Really?
His eyes looked so excited.  He bent his ear towards his chest as much as he could to try and hear.
Me: I don't really hear him in your heart, you can hear His voice anywhere.
Teoman: But I want to hear it now.
Me: You'll learn to hear his voice everywhere, it just takes practice.

I think I need to practice more.

national park bees

All summer long - after breakfast has been a workout to clean up, change, and lather up the three kids.  With the relatives here, clean up is going easier and today the kids did something weird.  They went up stairs, changed themselves and Tuana (whom I hadn't realized had climbed the stairs too), and came back down ready to go.  I have been waiting for this day all summer long....

We took our cousins to the beach yesterday and today.  It's been unusually windy and wavy.  Even cool.  I hardly ever use a towel in the summer - there is no need: the sun is hot, the water is warm, even the breeze is hot.  But this summer my kids have often been shivering and more than once we've wrapped them up in towels to warm them.

But the water still is warm.  The water wasn't as clear as usual yesterday, but beautiful as always.  We rented chaise lounges and spent much of the day playing in the sand, under umbrellas, and swimming.

Today we were up early, prepared a cooler of breakfast items and thermoses of tea.  We bought simit, poagca, and fruit and drove to the Mille park - the national park.  It's on a mountain - actually, I don't know when something its called a mountain - but it looks dramatic enough to a mountain, or peak, cliff.  The road gently curves down he side and parked on the pebble beach.  The water is marvelously clear here as no sand is kicked up from the waves, it's protect from the wind, and its generally more rocky.  The water feels colder too - it's beautiful.

But, before even setting up - we changed our mind.  There were many bees.  The national park's bee season runs from mid-August to mid-September and there is no escaping them.  They aren't even honey producing bees - they are just stinging bees.  We travelled farther into the park, checking a couple of other locations but the bees were relentless - there were constantly two or three and more swarming around us.  It would only get worse once we took out the food, or got wet.  We gave up and found a picnic area outside the park to eat out breakfast - the kids were starving by now and it was enough for them to chase the chickens and cats around  in the area we sat.  Teoman was excited about the cave.  Actually, Tuana was too and was insisting to climb down into and jump in the water like everyone else.

Pluto - review

Pluto - by RJ Palacio

Pluto is a Wonder spin-off.  I thought it was the second book in a quick browse I checked it out - but turns out it's just another take on August's story from a different perspective: the perspective of Christopher - Auggie's best friend who moved to Connecticut and was mentioned a couple of times in Wonder during flashbacks.  The book is named Pluto because of their space phase - there is a moment where Christopher is completely offended and mind-blown when he finds out a) Pluto is not a planet and b) his mom gave him wrong information - because he and Auggie had planned on traveling there.  The story takes place in a day - and refers to their friendship, and flashbacks as well, but from Christopher's side.

What I liked:  I like the depiction of a good kid, a big lazy and disorganized.  His perceptions were believable - which I always  think is an amazing gift.  It was interesting to read an outside but connected perspective.

What I didn't like: There seemed to be some mistakes.   For example - his mom breaks her leg.  They say it's her femur but she has a cast up to her thigh.  That's not how you cast a broken femur.

What I would like to have read: I'm still not convinced on this minor characters significance to the story, and whether it warrants it's own book.

Quotes:
"I saw the three of them shoot each other looks, but they nodded goodbye to John. 'Bye, Chris!' John said loudly from the door.
'Bye,' I mumbled.  I liked he guy, I really did.  One one one he was awesome.   ut he could be so clueless, too.  It was like being friends with spongeBob."

"That's how they do it in his school - fifth graders walking down the same hallways as ninth graders!  Crazy!"

barbecue

For this holiday - our Istanbul relatives had joined us.  Last night Gokalp abi had visited once again, and Anne's older sister - my taze, had come, as well as her daughter and granddaughter.  Her daughter  (our cousin) is in her mid fifties, she's a dentist and recently remarried.  Her daughter is in her mid-twenties.  They all talk a lot, gossip a lot, judge a lot, and help a lot.  Whenever they invite themselves, Anne, Gokhan, and even Tolga complain - but I like when they come.
I like anyone who helps.
Sure it's more work in some ways - but my cousin kind of takes of the cooking and grocery shopping, they play with and distract the kids, and the chatter can be fun.

They already had our first barbecue planned.  It's sure not the same as an American barbecue - the grill is old fashion and simple.  Open, no cover, coals, iron plates, a rusted out chimney for the heat.  Our meat is kofte, sucuk, and chicken - all seasoned in the typical Turkish style.  My cousin whipped up a salad to go alongside - tomatoes, cucumbers and lettuce all finely chopped and spread pleasing on a long dish, with lemon juice, oil, and loads of salt.

family

We arrived around 2am.  Our trip had gone well after the opening scene of terrible smells.  Tolga stopped at the gas station and bought some cologne - the Turkish solution for everything, a lemon alcohol spritzer used to wash your hands, clean cuts, stop stains, freshen up your skin or a whole room.

In the morning we had a late breakfast and went to Hakan's hotel.  He, his wife, and two kids were staying there and planned on flying out at 2 in the morning of this night.  Their youngest was sick - throwing up and may need "serum" they had informed us.
There. always. is. drama. here.
They had taken Bartu to the hotel doctor, which turned out to be our beach friends - he was filling in for the day and when Hakan came in, he told Hakan he knew his name, his abi, his father, our summer home - taking Hakan by surprise that he knew so much before even treating Bartu.

We came to the hotel to visit and spend the day with them in spite of Bartu being ill - whether it meant going to the hospital, waterslides, swimming, or sitting. - the point was family.  I went to the hotel room to sit with Yesim, my sister-in-law,  while Teoman and his cousin Batuhan played, and the three brothers: Gokhan, Hakan, and Tolga hung out watching them.  Bartu hadn't thrown up again and was about to sleep, so they held off on going to the hospital.  Tuana was sleeping but woke up right away.  Later we joined the boys to eat, they went out on the boat, we met the owner of the hotel, and took the kids on some waterslides.

In the evening - we had planned on a barbecue together - but instead we dropped Hakan and family off at the hospital for their serum before their flight.  Batuhan came and played with Teoman and Tomris - Hakan followed to take our car, pack their suitcases, and bring them to out our house again.  They came at around 11pm, but had to turn around and leave right away for their flight.  Bartu threw up in the house, mostly water.

Tolga brought them to the airport - they were upset that we had come to the hotel, hadn't visited with Bartu, were laughing - it was so much drama.  And Tolga came back at 3am.

so. much. drama.

road trip

I had school today - this was day 5 of work.  I held a meeting all morning with my grade 5 English team to sort some things out.  Two didn't do their jobs.  I handled it well in the fact that it didn't bother me like I thought it would.  I had started spelling out a daily plan and realized a few things:
My colleague that led this last year - as much as she tried to give everyone what they wanted, she couldn't because she thinks differently then most of us.  Two, our group problem is the same - we have a unit plan and we are all left to our own devices as to how we get there.  So, three - we are left re-inventing the wheel.  My colleague is a good teacher and believes we should all create "what our students need", implying that no need is similar and teaching is fluid.  Maybe she is that good that she comes up with things the night before to fit her student profile perfectly - but most of us don't.  Most of us need to prepare it far in advance.  The end goal isn't enough for the daily practical need - how to get from A to Z.  My general response is - okay, but if you did this last year, why can't we work with that, learn from your mistakes or adapt to our needs?

It's been five days and I already need a vacation.  Or the whole vacation to figure out what to do with this situation.

Tolga picked me up at work.  Tuana had thrown up in the car while they were waiting, and Gokhan was sitting in my spot with his arm pit draped over the headrest to reach in to the backseat -  he hadn't  changed his shirt from the morning, and between his body odor and Tuana's throw-up this 10 hour road trip wasn't looking good.

school social

We had a busy school day of meetings and planning - then a school dinner planned from 4:30 on.  The dinner was held in the cafeteria and patio - but with the long tables cleared out and round tables brought in, along with a DJ and umbrellas - it created a nice atmosphere, but very casual as we all had just finished work.

The school has over 60% of an international teaching staff - and a high turn over over the last couple of summers between the coup and  administrative changes - but this year, the turn over brought a larger then usual South African contingent.

I sat with them today.  They were all eating with their forks in their left hand and their knives in their right hand.  I mean it.  All six of them.  It was so distinct and cultural and a little bit cliquey - so I had to try it too.  It always makes me feel like a dainty eater.

I sat across from a veteran at our school - in terms of our school  and international staff - 7 years was a lifetime.  He is overweight and charismatic.  A pre-school teacher or coordinator of some sort - and comic and social relief to any group he joins.

He was complaining about the pre-school interviews they had been conducting.  Apparently our school, in spite of it's price, is competitive to get into - and so entry is based on what skills the children have and have not achieved.
"Rachel, yours is fine. (He knew Tomris was starting this year) But, I mean, some of these kids don't even know their colors, or body parts, they can't do a puzzle or matching.  What are these parents doing with their kids?!"
Shit.
"Ummm... maybe they're super busy... and haven't noticed they missed major (or basic) milestones in development.  (More pathetically) Maybe... they are just trying to survive."

(2 hours later)
Me: Tomris!  What color is this?
T: Red.
Me: This?
T: Pembe
Me: In English?
T: I don't know
Me: That's okay (Turkish will do?).  What about this?
T: I don't know
Me: Yellow!  Come 'on Tomris, don't you know this color?
T: No, I don't know it.  I forgot.

Shit.  My kid doesn't know her colors.  

utile

I remember in my first or second year of college having a professor - the typical academic: white hair, bearded, glasses, ethereal in his discussion of literature.  I remember him sharing that the Greeks believed that writing must have utile - it must be useful, have purpose - and I agreed.  I was glad people from long ago were as practical as I.  Finally I had justification for not liking Jack London's To Build a Fire.  I don't mean to be simple, but I do want happy endings.  I want admirable or victorious characters.  I want them to overcome seeming insurmountable obstacles and change.  I want bitterness and hurt to be resolved.  I want those that are lost to be found.  I want hope restored.

It doesn't mean I don't want injury or death.  It doesn't mean I don't want catastrophic events in the story or loss of a significant or even main character in the end - but I  want cathartic events that change people - and in the end, for the better.

I don't need the character to die, or be unlikable, or do horrific or strange things.  I don't find any redeeming qualities in these.  

The world provides enough of this.  

I realize this probably disqualifies me somewhat as an English teacher - and maybe one day I'll reread the classics and try again to like some of the more notorious ones, I am open.  

A colleague of mine sees things differently then me.  In the books we've read, she finds Mr. Terupt's coma, Melody's paralysis and subsequent accident with her sister, Sadako's cancer - she finds these traumatic and too hard for fifth graders to deal with.  To real.  

I find Skeleton Man - where every kid's worse fear comes to life: a skeleton man takes her parents and comes after her to eat them all (his namesake is a result of eating himself).  I find this horrifying.  Inappropriate for kids this age (9-11yrs).  I can't even support Percy Jackson - maybe for older kids - but there are terrifying demon's that come to life and pursue them, they go to the depths of Hades where evil is tortured eternally, and the mediocre wander aimlessly.  I find these things - the unknown, the spiritual, our fears taking on physical form - I find these too real.  To real in a way we don't understand, and surely such young minds don't - they are stories that give physical form and words to fears they are trying to suppress, it brings up philosophical and spiritual ideas they may not be quite ready to wrestle with.  It's just too heavy.

My colleague and I are sensitive to different things.

virus

Tomris's throat virus seems to be getting better, while Tuana got worse.  She had, what I thought was, a mosquito bite on her foot and a blister on her toe.  The next day I saw two more blisters on her foot - and the mosquito bite looked funny.  She also had some spots on other places that I thought were mosquito bites or a weird chapped skin.  But Tolga called me today - after Zuleyha gave Tuana a bath - the spots spread, everywhere.  They thought it was chicken pox but it turned out to be a virus - mostly red spots, but some blisters.  Even in her throat I guess.  Hand-foot and mouth disease.
My poor babies.

The doctor said it most likely was from the pool.
(Enter every Turk nodding and giving me a knowing look).

It could be from coughing, sneezing, touching infected poop - all possibilities...

so it begins

TD Cox had wider eyes today then he did in the spring.  He looked lost.  He weighs about 300 hundred pounds and he's from Texas.

The first day back was exciting to see the ones we missed, sad to not see the ones that left, and overwhelming already.  I accomplished little and talked a lot.

I'm starting my lead as the 5th grade Integrated English Program coordinator.  What have I done....

Afynon to Ankara

We stayed at a hotel last night in Afyon - we paid the most I've ever paid in Turkey - but after a whole summer in Kusadasi - I really wanted it.  I love Kusdasi, I love our summer home, I’m glad Babanne and Dede are there, I’m happy to have visitors and relatives - but I also want to escape - soemewhere new, just us.  

NG is a fancy thermal hotel 6 hours from Kusadasi - 6 hours is about the maximum the kids can take before starting to go stir crazy.  They did really well, actually - but we hardly stopped and it was torture for all of us.  

The thermal hotel has hot pools, warm pools, indoor, outdoor, kids pools, waterslides indoor and outdoor.  They serve tea, dinner, and breakfast - it's a fast paced reprieve from the road.  

It's also exhausting fun.  

Our car ride home I was sure the kids would be unconscious - but they were overtired and excited to get to Ankara.  It was 3 1/2 more hours and we stopped at the hospital on the way home.  Tomris had been having trouble eating the last couple of days saying that her mouth/throat was hurting.  I could see red dots on her throat - but she had been reluctant to even open her mouth.  

They tested her for strep - the tests came back negative, so it was determined to be viral.  

Tomorrow work begins.

leaving the Kusadasi situation

This morning - Anne, Hakan, and Yesim watched while we ate.  Baba was with us - Anne forgot to check his blood sugar - yesterday he ate pasta, drank beer, and had a peach dessert.  Anne didn't check his sugar at night or in the morning.  She said she forgot. 

Anne complains that Baba is her kid - but she only takes care of him some of the time, and I’m not sure what the formula is.  Sometimes she says, “I can’t go to the beach, I can’t leave Baba.”

But then she goes to the beach, or the bazaar, or the market.  Other days she goes into the detail of the trauma the sun and heat causes.

“I can’t go, because it’s too hot.” She places a hand over her heart.  “I can’t sit under the sun, it’s hard for me to breathe.  Then, at night, my heart beats so fast.”

She forgot to feed him before she left to the hospital with Tolga the other day.   She did however, feed my children.  She sat down next to them and waited on them hand and foot.   Anne does everything for Baba.  She dresses him, shaves him, helps him in the shower, puts on his socks, makes food, brings him food, brings him his medicines, brings him a change of clothes, counts out his medicine, puts it in his mouth, checks his blood sugar (when she remembers).  

When she brought the shoe box of medicine to him this morning - she said,

“Rhami!  What is this?” sweeping her hand over the 12 or 15 pills on the table. 

Um...You don’t know what he’s taking?  

I have to admit - when we leave Kusadasi - I have this great mixture of apprehension and relief - I'm just not sure what to do with them.

a short reunion

Yesterday was our last day at the sea - the sea looked bluer, the water feel more refreshing.  I'm already missing Kusadasi.  In the evening we visited our friends - swam in their community pool, drank wine, ate cheese, and chased the kids around with napkins to clean up their ice cream.

Summer was so long, and so short, all at once.

Hakan and Yesim arrived at 4am, but, as my Anne informed me, no one heard them ring the doorbell.  I had told her to go to bed because the last time because she was ridiculously waiting up - when it was Tolga, my husband, that we were waiting for.  and I had a phone that he could call.  She said, "but we may not here it!"  I told her no worries - really, why would you wait up until 4am?  Except that Hakan and Yesim didn’t call anybody’s phone - not the home, not anyone’s cell - they were just sad and stuck outside bearing their suffering so we could all sleep… (big sigh).

We had intended on heading back to Ankara by the coast, to stay at some hotels and sightsee on the way home - but Yesim (sister-in-law) and their two boys were scheduled to come today and we cancelled our plans for them.  It wasn't a big deal, we wanted to see our nephews - but we could only manage a day together.  They are living in Germany now, Hakan is working at the hotel here, and Yesim only had a week permission from work.  Teoman and Batuhan are 6 months apart and the best of friends.  Bartu is 2 1/2  and all the kids ran around and played in the garden.  The time was too short - but we were so glad to have had it together

Out of my Mind - review

Out of my Mind by Sharon M Draper

Melody is a fifth grader with Cerebral Palsy, she is a quadriplegic and has never spoken a word.  Her mind is sound, her memory almost photographic - but until this year, she was only a witness to all events around her.  She gets a computer that is adapted to her limited movements, and she is able to use it midway through the year,  mainstream with her peers for some classes, and even compete on the Whiz Kids team.

What I liked: What a necessary read and glimpse from the inside of a special needs classroom and kids with disabilities.  Melody reminded me of a classroom I substituted - a girl with a similar condition to Melody's was there with her mom.  Her mom came everyday to support - I don't think she was a paraprofessional and surely she wasn't paid.  She just knew they needed help.  We talked about her daughter - her awareness of her surroundings seemed apparent, inspire of her inability to speak or control a physical response.  Her mom complained that she was showing signs of adolescence, giving her equivalent of an eye roll in response to different things.  Melody's story to me was very real.  Very believable.  Her comments and struggles were believable and relatable.

What I didn't like: I'm not sure - there was a normalizing of Melody through her thoughts and feelings, but the logistics of the situation could never make her normal.  The author showed this in her struggles to eat, to get anywhere, to get in a restaurant or make a flight - they had all adjusted their lives but no one else (classmates, friends) could do the same for long periods of time.  I suppose I don't like that it's painfully true - how to be friends with a person with a disability, to make accommodations so that all can join - means making sacrifices, lowering the competitive level in different situations, it means slowing down a group for one - something we are less willing to do.

What I wanted to read: The back said she had a photographic memory - she was smart, but I'm not convinced she had a photographic memory.  If she had, wouldn't she have excelled way beyond  her peers?  That would have been interesting to read - to see the computer give her the ability to excel beyond what anyone had imagined.

Quotes:
  "'How dare you!' the teacher gasped.
  'I dare anything for my daughter,' Mom replied, her voice dangerous, "and for the rest of these children!'" p57

"When I think about it, I realize I have never, ever said any words directly to my parents.  So I push a couple of buttons, and the machine speaks the words I've never been able to say.
  'I love you.'" p138

"'She's sitting here looking like one of those blowfish we saw at the aquarium - all puffed up and spiny.'
  That's actually kinda close to how I felt." (p159)

"Her voice could crush bricks." (p259)

"'I wish I could fix this for you, Melody,' Dad said quietly as he headed out of my room.
  That made the tears fall for real."

  "'Why did you leave me?'
  Somebody should have been there with a video camera proving that, yes, a fifth-grade classroom can be absolutely, totally quiet."

summered-out?

I hold a lot of expectations to myself, some mild, some for fun, some severe.  I said to my father the other day,

“It’s exhausting keeping up all my expectations on things.”  He laughed because he knew.  I know he knew.

Tolga, on the other hand, doesn’t know.  He’s wonderfully accepting of everyone and everything and quite logically concludes that if I’d just relax and accept people, I’d be happier.  

Of course he’s right - but why isn’t that easy?  

And for that matter, I know every woman would agree with me that that is the most annoying and unhelpful husband-thing to say.  

Sigh.  

Tolga came yesterday late afternoon by bus from Balikisar - a few hours away.  We only have a few days left here, and went together all to the beach today, played in the sand, ate ice cream - the usual but all together.

Summer is Tolga's busiest time for his work - going to the field for exploration, and later for drilling - and it's also his hardest time emotionally.  They are long hot days in the field, away from his family - as hard as it is for us.  All on vacation, but without Baba.

It's always better when he's here, and this summer we've needed him so much - but it's not easy, the summer has been full of stress.

We went for a walk.  Tomris wanted Tolga to carry her on his shoulders.  He did, then I he got tired and mad.  It was such a predictable order of events.  He feels bad for being gone, he does something he doesn’t want to do, he gets mad.  

Tonight, putting the kids to bed Tolga took a shower.  The kids fought over making the blankets perfect.  At first it was mostly Tomris crying that the blanket wasn’t straight, that she couldn't do it.  Then Teoman helped her, but not right, then they lost patience with each other and there was screaming and crying and fighting.  Tolga came in finally (I was nursing Tuana to sleep and only inserting threats about the consequences of hitting).  Tolga didn't make things better.  He tried, he sat with them, tried to be reasonable - but they, especially Teoman, where beyond reason.  Teoman screamed out of frustration.  And in the end, very predictably - Tolga lost it too - getting angry, shouting and taking everyone’s blankets away (because underneath all of the other stuff going on, that’s what they were still fighting about).  

Happy together again.  (Blows sigh).

Mary's house

Maria and I had planned to go to The Virgin Mary's House together.  

 She had asked me about it, and I made fun of it, and she replied,

“You think religion is a myth?”

Oops.  Errr… ah… no that’s not what I meant it all.  I am religious.  No, that’s not right, I believe in God - but Mary’s house - it's questionable whether it’s even true, and if it is or not - who cares?  Okay, who cares was the wrong word to use.  Lot’s of people care obviously - I was just getting deeper in this hole - so I offered to take her there.  She was bringing Mikali - I hadn't decided who I was bringing - but in the morning we worked it out that it would be just Tomris.  I told Anne to turn on the television for a bit, and asked Teoman to help with his sister.

Tomris walked to the car with me, stopped and made a face (probably thinking about the smell of the car - for some reason she claims the car's smell is bad and makes her gag), and announced she was not going.

I had done a lot to convince Teoman to stay, to distract Tuana, and prepared food and snacks for Tomris.  So, I wasn't to happy with her sudden change of heart.  Tuana figured out we had escaped and was at the door crying for me already so I abruptly pulled Tomris into the house, picked up Tuana to take her and announced no television, no neighbor's house while I'm gone.

Then Teoman and Tomris started crying.  And it wasn't even 8am.

Fifteen minutes later we were back to the original plan and I was driving away.  We stopped for simit for the kids and drove on hoping to the beat the crowds.  Kusadasi is about a half hour from Ephesus.  The Virgin Mary's house is 7km up the mountain from there on a narrow road nestled amongst tall pines.  We were stopped twice by the Jandarma, the military police who checked our IDs - Tolga is always nervous about this for my sake - worried they may find a reason or prejudice against me.  These chances are slim, but it is the reason I don't drive outside of Ankara.  We had no issues, but were a bit surprised to be checked twice.  Indeed, there seem to be too many Jandarma.  We learned later that today - August 15th - was the day Mary's ascension is celebrated - we had found the most important day to come.

We parked and walked down the hill, up a path, and past an area where church seemed to be being set up.  We entered Mary's house and I took Tomris and Mikali away so Maria could have her moment.  She is not religious she confessed (in spite of her Orthodox culture), and her father was an atheist - but she had come here when pregnant with David after learning some tests showed the possibility of Down's syndrome.  She had prayed for his health, and now felt the need to give thanks as well.  We talked about religion and faith and our families as such places so readily inspire.

I had never been to this place - I suppose because all my relatives here thought it would be so important for me that I had the opposite reaction, not wanting to give it such importance.  It's a place.  It's a person.  It's not God.  It's not Jesus.  But visiting there, I shouldn't have been so quick to discount the sanctity of a place.  In spite of how I feel - people are pilgrammagng here.  They are coming into the room.  Some quietly in the back, some prostrate on the floor, some with their hands open at the alter of candles.  No matter how or why - there is a beautiful vulnerability where all those walls that we put up to survive are replaced at the threshold with walls of Mary's house - whether it's her house or not, whether it's important or not - it's that act, a reprieve from the world and it glimpse into our faith, those gone, those things hoped for, prayed for.

I went to Mary’s house today with Maria.  She had asked me about it, and I made fun of it, and she replied,

“You think religion is a myth?”

Oops.  Errr… ah… no that’s not what I meant it all.  I am religious.  No, that’s not right, I believe in God - but Mary’s house - it's questionable whether it’s even true, and if it is or not - who cares?  Okay, who cares was the wrong word to use.  Lot’s of people care obviously - I was just getting deeper in this hole - so I offered to take her there.  

an electric mower

Most people live in apartments in Turkey.  Summer homes are usually set ups duplexes - in communities.  Stand alone houses aren't very common unless the family is very rich or very poor - but they surely aren't common.

While gardens are popular, manicured lands are not.  In the wealthier communities you will find it - but most place have very small bits of land, ours included.  However, ours feels rich as it is filled with fruit and nut trees.

Because of this lack of yards and manicured lawns - its always a novelty to see a perfect lawn.  Only recently have companies begun selling sod and we have a few neighbors that re-sod their yards yearly.

Our yard is hard packed dirt.  On occasion we've successfully planted and grown grass ... but mostly we have not.  Mostly weeds grow and we cut the yard with an electric mower - something I didn't know existed until moving here.  The lawn mower is small and operates by an electric cord that you drag around the yard with you.

I spent a day trimming the hedges, another day raking the yard, a third collecting and throwing the brush - and today day I began cutting.  I managed to break the lawn mower.  At first it wasn't working well.  The cords connection was sketchy and if I didn't hold the cord just right, and squeeze the lever - it wouldn't run.  I got half way done when the machine made a click click click sound.  I thought it was the motor trying to turn over - it reminded me of Tolga's dead battery the other day.  I kept holding the lever, it kept clicking, and then it started smoking.

Oops.  That's not good.

One more week.  I have one more week until work starts.  Ugh.  

One more week to finish my monumentous projects.

But I broke the lawn mower.  And I’m going to bed early, exhausted from the days' events, I started another book, and well, I’ll admit it, I may not get all of my projects done.  

Mark of the Dragonfly - review

The Mark of the Dragonfly by Jaleigh Johnson

The setting is another world.  A world where the poor live in shanty-like towns and the scavenge from the Meteorite Fields - a specific area where meteorites enter and crash monthly, bringing things from what I can only assume is/was our world.

Weird.

Piper is an orphan with a knack for fixing machines.  Her father died a couple years earlier working in the factories in the Dragonfly territories - where the King is ambitiously working on inventions to explore past the extreme mountains and oceans that have held this civilization back.  In a meteor storm Piper comes across Anna, a girl a bit younger than herself with no memory but the mark of the Dragonfly - and intricate tattoo and mechanical representation of a Dragonfly (I'm not sure what the significance of that was) and of the King's protection.  Thus begins their adventure where they board the 401 - a steam operated train the makes it runs throughout all the territories and Piper's dream to see it all.

Interesting sidetone - I just learned this genre is called steampunk.  Science-fiction that has a historical setting with steam powered machines.  How strangely specific.

What I liked: I liked the combination of magic and skill.  I liked there were some unusual characters.  I liked her penchant for mechanics - the descriptions and detail was different.  But I suppose the most important thing, was the development of characters I cared about - they were sweet and broken and strong all at once.

What I didn't like: Meteors bringing items from another world?   .... meh....

What I would have liked to read:  Wasn't anyone in this world interested or capable of exploring this rip in the sky, this phenomena of meteors, and exploration into it?


Quotes:
"Ms. Varvol took the coat and patched he torn places, all the while looking as if she was secretly planing to burn the garment.

"She'd needed all the skill and experience with machines that she'd gained during her years in the scrap town.  The magic was a part of her but it wasn't everything - her own talents were just as important."

medicines

I think if I search this tag on my blog, the same story would come up again and again - I feel as if I've written this story too many times.  I guess I'm trying to find the best way to tell the story  while hiding my frustration enough so that the humor can come through and lighten the tragedy of the situation.

Baba is a diabetic.  When we first came here he was 120 kilos and ate whatever he wanted.  He claimed drinking more water got rid of the sugar.  Each time we came from America, we brought blood sugar testers and strips.  He tested his blood, my blood, Tolga's blood - everybody's.  It was a game.

Then two years ago after a wet spring, maybe there was a sore, maybe he didn't change his socks - he didn't notice (he's lost most feeling in his feet), Anne didn't notice - but someone finally noticed his toes had turned black.

After 30 days of taking a bus to Izmir with Gokhan for hyperbaric chamber treatments - they amputated four of his toes.  That summer everyone was more careful with his diet.  Baba was depressed.  He lost lots of weight, which he needed too, but in this manner he wasn't doing well - he had lost his appetite.

But this visit, Baba's appetite is in full force.  He is eating everything.  Anne serves him everything, because if she doesn't "he gets mad."
"How's his blood sugar?"
"It's been fine."
"What's it been?"
"The doctor said it was good."
"What was it when you checked it last?"
silence.
"When was the last time you checked it.
silence.

Apparently they stopped checking his blood sugar because he's been fine.


Anne was four days out of her heart medicine before she asked me to "pick it up".  Which means I go to the clinic.  They said she should be with me (Anne insisted I didn't need her).  They said she needed a report.   I went to the pharmacy and paid full price for her medicines.  She told me she had the report - it wasn't on the computer records - they explained to me they were doing it wrong, going to the wrong doctor ... I'm not sure.  

It's one big frustration cycle of confusion and helplessness.

impossible levels to sustain

Okay, so I realize that I put myself into these impossible situations.  I realize I myself will drive myself crazy.  I realize that it is only me that has to give up or let go of the conditions that I put on myself and others.

But it's hard.

It's hard, because I don't want to, for one.  I feel really stubborn about it.  This is what people are talking about when they say "die to yourself" because it feels like you're killing a part of yourself, and you are - the unhealthy part, but it's our nature to self preserve.  I mean, who really wants to die?

I have a mop for outside, inside, the bathrooms, and the second floor.  Don't mix the mops.  I want to feed all three, clean up all three, put one of three to sleep and clean.  Vegetable dish for lunch because they won't eat one later.  Television for emergencies when preparing dinner.

I want the kids to wash their feet before they come into our room.  They run around barefoot and the bottoms of their feet are black.  Between our tiled floors, the terrace, and the garden - it's inevitable.  So they rinse their feet, dry them on the bat mat, and come into the room with no sand or mud.

And I don't have to clean it.

Except this means lifting them up to the sink, or turning on the shower water just right then mopping up after them, it means one may slip while I'm attending another.

I'm not sure what ideal I'm reaching for, but routines are just routines not laws and when things get busy, they don't work at all because:
1) other adults don't follow my routines
2) children
3) I might have a few too many "routines"

beach friends

This morning we went to the beach.  Teoman and Tomris keep telling me in the morning they aren't coming - then when they see me and Tuana ready they change their minds.  The water was wavy but clear today.  Our friends where there and I could actually talk to Maria, which we often can't because we are chasing the children.

I'm kind of using them, because its often her husband that all our kids are playing with - he's usually distracting them with digging or looking at bugs or some other age appropriate activity.

Teoman had found new friends last week - and he and the other boy quite enthusiastically swim and dig holes together.

There is a camel that comes to the beach.  An old man leads the camel, and the big cow bell dings as is plods to it's place on the pier.  The camel kneels there on a carpet he lays - it used to be all day long, now he only stays for a short time before moving on.

Tuana loves the camel.  All three were running over to the cement pier at different paces so I came up behind them.  Tuana was allowed to sit on the camel the other day, and cried when I didn't let her today.

She really loves animals.

We went for ice cream and I stopped at our uncle's place on the beach.  It looks right out on the sea - a beautiful location, but an awful house.  Packed with junk and not well cared for.  His son, our cousin was washing his car, scraping off the bugs from it.  Our uncle smiled his gentle smile and encouraged us to come right in.  He had a candy in his hand that he gave Tomris.  Tuana was pointing at their dog.  My relatives were just eating breakfast and invited me to sit - and I did for only a few minutes.

We headed home and I showered the kids and put Tuana to sleep.  While she's sleeping, I usually do some cleaning and today I mopped the terrace and living room and weed whacked the garden then began raking.

We had dinner, and our beach friends came over again - the kids played in the garden.  They ran around, rode the scooter, chased a kitten, threw sand.  I turned on the hose and a rocket toy we have.  Our friends had brought ice cream - even though my kids already had ice cream and chocolate today. None of them could finish their ice cream because of it.

The kitten that came today is strange.  I'd never seen it before and it was sitting on our balcony this morning.  It's strange - because most cats, even as young kittens, are scared of everything and everybody.  This one came right up to me.  I pet it and it purred.  I fed it and Tuana loved it.  But it wouldn't leave thoughout the day - going between our house and two other neighbors.  We tried to scare it away, and it kept coming back.  I let Tomris and Tuana pick it up.  (I just learned neither of them know how to hold a cat, and I didn't show them because I didn't want to hold it on my clothes).  Anne kept telling them to stop because it would scratch them and they'd get a bacteria.  I let them pick it up because I thought the kitten would soon learn this is not necessarily a safe place to stay.  But the kitten let them pick it up.  It didn't resist or scratch - only complained some, and reached for the ground - but never ran away, just hung around them and didn't even try to avoid their constant grabbing - as it was hoping for more love.

Our friends left, and the kids torotured the cat some more, and I brought some food out for it, but led the kitten to the street to eat it.  Two other cats came out of nowhere (how do they do that?) and we said goodnight to the cats and went upstairs to sleep.  It was a long day and a late night.

to the market

It's been humid for the past few days so my patience has been low.
Just above zero.

I am often going to the market - most everyday.  I'll ask Anne if she needs something and if there is nothing she'll answer:
"Nothing now."
Which means we're low on something.  To avoid another trip later in the day, or tomorrow, I'll ask her what she needs.
"Tomato paste.  We have food now, but I'll make something tomorrow and need more."
"Anything else?"
"I don't know."
"Maybe you could make a list."

How Anne makes a grocery list:

bread tomato paste flour
cheese soap
milk
yufka shampoo soda sugar

Fortunately, the market is close.  With three kids and hot/humid weather though, nothing's easy... unless I could just think it, and it would appear.

When Anne goes to the market herself, it's usually for bread.  She will go upstairs, change her clothes and her shoes, get her wallet and come down.  She went this morning, and the kids wanted to go with her.  I would have gone, but she was all ready to go - so I tended to Tuana's breakfast and they headed out.

They came back with simit and chocolate and something to cook special for when we had guests. However, Teoman had a plan to cook it with Babanne immediately.  The simit there were five because there are six of us.  I would have gone for three.  Teoman and Tomris will share one.  Tuana, Baba and I will share one, and Anne will eat one.  The temptation for Baba is too much.  I told Anne not to give him a whole one - and she answered, "Every once in a while he can have it."  He can have it everyday if he wants actually, but portioning is the problem.  "His sugar wasn't so high this morning."
"What was it?"
"110."  That's before breakfast.
"That's high, Anne."
"Gokalp abi's was 200."
Um.  I don't know what to say to that.  Or, actually I have a lot to say about this whole situation - but what am I going to do.  We will leave, and you will all do what you want anyhow.

50 years

We lived a whole life/day, but the biggest part was Baba coming home.

Have I mentioned that it's really hard here without Tolga?  Tomris is sick. She woke up the other night at 10 pm (I swear she had just fallen asleep).  She was crying with ear pain.  I immediately assumed it was an ear infection - she doesn't get ill often, and it was a very specific pain (although, since then, I am not so sure ... Teoman and Tomris are both dramatizing the smallest injuries: tonight Tomris complained of knee pain, stomach pain, leg pain, and whatever else bumped into her).  I gave her ibuprofen and she cried, I held her until she fell asleep.

I chose to wait until morning, and fortunately she didn't wake up again.  Even in the morning, when she woke up, she came to snuggle with me and said her ear was okay - it only hurt a little. I had decided already I would bring her to the  hospital, however it was Sunday - which meant it would be busy and a random doctor.  I think of all three kids, we've only had one ear infection but I know they are painful, and the faster we take care  of it, the better.

I messaged my "beach friends".  My friend's husband was an ENT doctor.  They had counseled me before on Teoman's situation, and I asked if they could check Tomris today.  It would save me a lot of trouble with juggling the kids and the Turkish health system.  Nariman came by in the late morning - we had lounged at home, waiting most of the morning, and I was ready to go to the hospital  because I didn't think they were coming, nor was I sure what he'd be able to do - I mean was he going to bring the thingamajig to look in the ear?

Our doctor friend did indeed bring his ear scope in a small zipper case.  (Okay, he was going to do the real check).  He asked Tomris where it hurt.
  "Here (pointing to her ear), hear (pointing to her other ear), and hear (pointing to her stomach)."  Eye roll.  The stomach was new.  He asked her to point with her finger, and she showed the whole area again.  He looked in her throat, pushing her tongue down with a spoon. He looked in her good ear and her bad ear.  Tomris and Teoman both stared at Nariman.  He was their beach friend's dad, so to see him checking her ears was confusing for them.  (Teoman just stared with an open mouth).  He said it wasn't an ear infection and wrote a nasal spray and ear drop down that would help, and I went to the pharmacy and picked it up as well as some for Maria (the doctor's wife) who apparently also had ear pain.

We went swimming in the afternoon, Tomris staying in the shallow water - but the weather was terribly humid.  I didn't realize how it hasn't been bad, until now - when the the air has become breezeless and the humidity as risen.

Tolga came around 6pm with a bouquet of flowers and Hakan.  All three hugged their Baba, and Tomris brought me the flowers.  Tuana kept pointing at Hakan - he looks similar enough to Tolga and Gokhan that she acts comfortable around him and goes to him when he asks, snuggling right into his arms.

Tolga had come for our anniversary - he was working several hours away from us but did not want to miss this day - 9 years, 41 to go - for Tolga what is important is always clear and he always makes sure I know it and feel it too.  For all my faults, I sure have a good man at my side.

what we pass down

I don't know how things are passed down to our children. Okay genetics.  But really, it's shocking.  Tuana throws little tantrums.  They are actually hilarious, but I have a horrible suspicion she may have picked that up from me.  Tuana also sleeps sometimes with both hands behind her head - she's done this since about 3 months old - its exactly how Tolga sleeps.  Tomris is really loud and is often squawking her complaints, instantly.  I did not see myself as a complainer, but Tolga says she sounds like me.  I guess in private, that's how I am.  Tomris says things like, "This is awesome."  I try not to use that word, so I don't think she got it from me, but my mom says it ... so did Tomris hear it or is "awesome" imbedded in her genes?  Teoman is extremely sensitive to shows - I have always been as well.  Genetic?

After Teoman's surgery we had to force him to get up and walk.  It was horrible.  He was in pain from the air and trapped gas, from the surgery site, from fear, from possibly other problems we didn't know about.  He started agreeing he would, "a little bit later."  It was really stressful, but I pushed down my fear and was stern with him,

  "Teoman, you don't have a choice here.  We are going for a walk.  We are going to help you, but you have to do it.  I know it hurts.  I'm so sorry about that.  But you must walk to get better.  We are walking."  

  We walked a couple of steps and Teoman begged, "Can we take a break now?"

When I was about 20, I had dislocated my shoulder reaching into the backseat of the car.  At the hospital, a young orthopedic doctor came in to reduce my shoulder and I was terrified.  I had popped my shoulder out many times before this point, and it was always excruciating - but I it had gone back in on it's own before the doctors did anything.  This was the first time I had gotten to this point - ambulance ride, ER, drugs that hardly did a thing, doctors - and now the "show time" doctor.  They were ordering me to relax - every fiber of me was flight or fight and the pain had my arm up and locked out of position.  I was SURE if they pulled on my arm, something would snap in two.  They wrapped a sheet around my body and some guys pulled in one direction while the doctor took my hand and pulled in the other like some horrific medieval torture.  He pulled and twisted and put his foot in my armpit to get more leverage and pull harder.  I fought back.  It was all so horrifying, and at one point I squeaked out, "How about we take a break?"  

I was bargaining, and somehow - already at this young age - Teoman was bargaining too with he pain and its perpetrators.  

outnumbered

Each day is filled with so many things - my kids being sweet and silly.  Learning something new, saying or doing something new or sweet or amazing.  Fighting. Hitting. Crying.  Cleaning up messes.  Arguing.  And that's all in the first hour of them being awake.

It really is exhausting.

Tuana wakes up and snuggles next to me.  Tomris wakes up and joins the snuggle but bumps Tuana and Tuana is jealous so she squawks at Tomris.
Tomris screeches in frustration because she can't get her shirt off.
They ask for a treat - it's 8am and we haven't had breakfast.
I'm trying to get downstairs - Tuana's hungry and doesn't want to be changed or dressed.  She cries and resists.
Tomris asks to go to the neighbors house.  It's 8:10am.
At the breakfast table:
Give me juice!
That's not how we ask.
I wanted the green spoon.
Tomris, I'm pouring the milk.
I didn't want milk in my cereal.
Mom, why haven't you given me a fork?
You can get the fork.
You always say that to me!
Stop screaming, the entire neighborhood does not want to hear your screaming in the morning.

and so on...

Watching other people's kids, I hated hearing the kids scream or cry - I always had a solution in mind.  I think if I watched mine from a distance, I would have one too - but right smack in the middle of it all its hard to think straight.  Shell shocked.  I am totally outnumbered.

Because of Mr. Terupt - review

Because of Mr. Terupt follows a 5th grade class from Snow Hill Elementary in New England.  It's "chapters" are events from the different perspectives of seven students, each with a distinct personality type.  The stories thread is Mr. Terupt - their new, fifth grade teacher, and the effect he has on them.

What I didn't like: I was really turned off to the book because of the cast of characters and their labels: class clown, new girl, the brain, the queen bee, the slacker, the pushover, and the shy one.  Then of course there's that special teacher that comes and changes their life ... la-de-dah.  The set up was so corny - but the story gained a lot of strength, I suppose because of a dramatic central event.  Kind of scripted - but  I was sold on the story by the middle.

What I liked: The story brought tears to my eyes as each student went through major growth and change because of the central event (and according to the book, because of the teacher).  This is my kind of book - the cathartic change an event brings - it was really beautiful.  The characters were believable, and the insights into their thoughts and struggles, their silly logic and misperceptions - as well as their fears and concerns - it all inspired me to be a better teacher to the students I teach.

The most moving scene was reminiscent of Good Will Hunting - one of the most powerful moments when Robin Williams approached Matt Dameon with his thick file of abuse, waving it at him and says, "You know this?  This ... It's not your fault."
Matt Dameon backs to the wall a bit, looks down and shakes his head trying to cooly and dismissively answer him, "I know."
Robin Williams takes a step towards him and says again, "It' not your fault."  Matt Dameon pushes back, trying to throw off the emotional moment that is clearly crashing down - and Williams says it one more time, "It's not your fault."  And Dameon bawls along with the whole movie theater and everyone who's ever suffered a trauma, loss or abuse.

That was a tangent - but relevant to the book, because a lot of the characters struggle with guilt - and there is a powerful turning point when visiting a special needs classroom for a celebration, an autistic student - sensing the trouble better than anyone else, confronted the perpetrating student and hollered, "Not your fault!  Not your fault!"  And this mantra didn't just end there - it became a theme to a few characters that they applied to their lives: it's not my fault that my dad left.  It's not my fault that my brother died.  Mom, it's not your fault that this happened.

Powerful stuff.

What I wish I read: Mr. Terupt's point of view maybe - it may have ruined the story, and probably isn't appropriate in this context - but I know how kids change adults as well.

Quotes: 
"Invasive species are organism that are introduced into a new environment.  Since they have nonnatural predators there, they thrive.  They suck up all the resources, leaving nothing for the organisms that were there first.  The native species suffer and die." (Sounds like American's trying to integrate anywhere)

Scene were the autistic boy, at his surprise going away party, immediately goes to Peter: 
"James walked over to Peter and gave hime a hug that shattered (dollar word) his shield.  Everybody stopped and watched.  This was the first time any of us had really looked at Peter since the accident.  WE had each made the choice to make him invisible.  But now we saw him.
James finally let go and stepped back.  He looked into Peter's eyes.
'Peter, not your fault.  Not your fault.' James voice rose.  'Peter!' Now he yelled.  'Not your fault! Accident! Accident!'"

A Wind in the Door - review

A Wind in the Door by Madeleine L'Engle

This is the second in a series of five - I read "A Wrinkle in Time" quite a while ago and it is one of my favorite books (although I hardly remember much of it - thus why I've started writing book reviews, to remember how and why different books moved me).  A Wrinkle in Time amazed me for its incredible interweaving of science, science-fiction, and faith  - it was so unique and I feel as if many books that are popular today, are just (mostly bad) variations of this original.

A Wind in the Door reminded me of this again.

It had been too long ago for me to remember the characters - but I had to assume they were the same ones - Meg was the central character, beginning high school I guess but worrying over her youngest brother, Charles Wallace, who is in first grade and getting beat up everyday because he's different.  The father is off in Washington addressing some galactic phenomena, the mother is working on proving the existence of something immeasurable small.  They are scientists, and the children are unusual and smart too - they are all open to the unknown especially because of what they know.  So when the story begins with Charles Wallace claiming to have seen dragons, Meg believes its what Charles Wallace believes he saw - but she's not so sure it to be true - in fact, she realizes how sick Charles Wallace actually appears.  Through several phenomenal events, she is quickly pulled into a fight for Charles Wallace's life and the balance of the universe with her friend Cal, her principal, a cherubim, and a Teacher.

what I liked:  Wow.  There were many lines I connected with - Meg's "hate" for not loving Mr. Jenkins, which was actually hating herself.  The power of being Named.  For most of the book I had the Moana song running through my head - when she faced the lava monster in the end, unafraid and sang:
I've crossed the horizon to find you.
I know your name.
They have stolen the heart from inside you.
But this does not define you.
This is not who you are.
You know who you are.
This, along with Greg Boyd's mantra of telling individual's "you are of unsurpassable worth" - it's powerful stuff - for in all of our growth and gain, we are forgetting and losing the most central part of ourselves.

What I didn't like/confused about: Meg's doubt was so redundant.  I'm a bit confused about the setting too.  They feel and sound British to me - but I think they mention finally New England.  The year is confusing too - it sounds modern, but I keep picture an English countryside.  When I looked up the books online -even the publishing dates of the series was confusing.  This one was published in 1978?  There was scene where Mrs. Murry and Dr. Lousie were recalling the man on the moon - and Dr. Louise said Mrs. Murry would have been too young which isn't believable considering she has four kids, and probably more than one PhD, and its confusing too as the characters came across as they same age to me.
Two quotes I'm not sure I agree with:
"Why do people always mistrust people who are different?"
"People are always hostile to anybody who's different."
I think you could make a case for the opposite - that people are drawn to different.  There is a type of different that is refreshing, and there is a "different" that we all may not consciously search for, but we know it when we see it.

What I would have like to read:  There was was a lot of dialogue indicating urgency and time pressure, but then a lot of continued dialogue.  The actual action ended up being very little.

Quotes:
Interesting line: "The gaping rows where once beans had stood, and lettuce, and peas, had a forlorn look; there was an air of sadness and confusion about the carefully planned pattern."

"I think your mythology would call them fallen angels.  War and hate are their business, and one of the chief weapons is un-Naming - making people not know who they are.  If someone knows who he is, really knows, then he doesn't need to hate.  That's why we still need Namers, because there are places throughout the universe like your planet Earth.  When everyone is really and truly Named, then the Echtroi will be vanquished."

"Oh, Mr. Jenkins, don't you see?  Every time I was in your office, being awful and hating you, I was really hating myself more than you.  Mother was right.  She told me that you underestimate yourself."

"So you mean on your earth host you never communicate with each other and with other planets?  You mean your planet revolves about all isolated in space?  Aren't you terribly lonely?  Isn't he?"
"He?"
"Or she.  Your planet.  Aren't you lonely?"
"Maybe we are, a little," Calvin conceded. "But it's a beautiful planet."

"But human beings need Deepening Places, too.  And far too many never have any."

"Mr. Jenkins.  Unique, as every star in the sky is unique, every leaf on every tree, every snowflake, every farandole, every cherubim, unique: Named."

"'All I need to know is that all the galaxies, all the stars, all creatures, cherubic, human, farandole, all, all, are known by Name.' He seemed almost to crooning to himself."

"The temptation for farandole or for man or for star is to stay an immature pleasure-seeker.  When we seek our own pleasure as the ultimate good we place ourselves as the center of the universe.  a farm or a man or a star has his place in the universe, but nothing created is the center."

"We are the song of the universe.  We sing with the angelic host.  We are the musicians.  The far and the stars are the singers.  Our song orders the rhythm of creation."

'It is only when we are fully rooted hat we are really able to move."