Oh, Right, That.

So in the annals of significant family moments, one of our guinea pigs died. We had two: Leona (because Gabe wanted to name her Lion, but I feminized the name in Spanish since she was female) and Brown and White, a.k.a Blanquita.

The night we got back from home leave, Leona breathed her last. We found her lifeless in the morning and I quickly bundled her into a plastic bag and out with the morning garbage collection.

The kids asked a lot of questions but weren't too upset - I don't think they were very attached to her (I know I wasn't) - we never held them much, because I don't like when they mess outside of their cage.

But Blanquita has seemed very quiet and sad, so we have been holding her a LOT, and feeding her her favorite snack - pieces of sweet red pepper. It's nice cuddling a warm little furry creature in the morning and the evening.

We haven't decided whether or not to get another guinea pig to keep her company. I read that guinea pigs live to be about 5 years old. I don't know how old Leona was when we bought her but she was full-grown. She was on the obese side so I suspect some heart trouble. But we weren't around so I don't know if she had any signs of illness while we were gone. Blanquita was not full grown when we got her, two years ago, so she could live another 3 - and we'll only be in the country for one more. I don't know what we'll do with her then, probably give her away preferably to someone who lives in a rural area. But I'm hesitant to add another new pet to the mix considering that we'll have to part with it in 12 short months.

Perfect Moments Flashback

I also found this in my drafts folder, and I'm not even sure when I originally wrote it - but Valerie was 3, so Gabriel must have been around 1.

~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~

I’ve been very, very tired lately. So I've been trying to pay attention to the small perfect moments with the kids as they come.

Like when Gabriel points at the red circle of light on the ceiling from my headlamp one night and says “sun.” And the way, every morning, he'll step on the floor with his fat little bare feet, sign "cold," and then say "socks." Or the way he throws his arms around my neck, leans back and kisses me, then lunges in again for a surprisingly strong squeeze. And the way he’ll – how can I describe this? – he’ll see something that charms him, and he’ll go into this little crouch with his hands in front of his mouth, squirrel-like, smiling squint-eyed and wrinkled nose, fingers out like little birds’ beaks, and chirp.

Valerie's favorite game is “boing-boing” – she jumps on the bed holding Terry's hands, then he’ll give her a little push and she’ll fall back shrieking in laughter. She also likes to play “try again” – Terry will lie on his side on the bed, and she’ll jump up, kick both her feet into his butt, and then bounce down again. She braces her feet on the window sill while standing on her head on the bed. She mimics the Tigress's kung fu poses from the Kung Fu Panda movie and has started calling herself "Tiger" from time to time. Three year old exuberance!

She has mastered a 100-piece puzzle, and is actually learning to read – around 40 words she knows by sight, and can spell out with blocks. I was astonished the other day to look at her magnetic drawing pad and see that she had written the word “fox,” completely without prompting or guidance whatsoever. When I lie down with her at bedtime she’ll throw an arm around my neck and say “awwww.”

~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~

We have new pets, again! Four parakeets. They are super noisy sometimes, but Val just loves to sit and watch them. Their names are Birdie, Blue, Shine, and Maracuyá (passion fruit).

Crazy Cuy Lady

Grass we grew in the house for the guinea pigs

Last July, for Gabriel's 4th birthday, I bought him a guinea pig - or cuy, as it's known in the Andes. After bringing home the slate-colored female I read that cuys are social animals and it's best to buy them in same-sex pairs (unless you want them to multiply), and since males might fight each other we went back and bought another female. Gabriel named his Leona and Valerie named hers Brown and White. 

Over time we evolved a system of tubs filled with dirt and covered (usually) with sawdust, which we change once or twice a week. The tubs are linked by big PVC tubes that they love to hide in, and periodically we block off part of the complex to grow grass for them. 

They are way stinkier and messier than I thought they would be, but it's kind of fun to have pets. 

An early arrangement. These boxes were not hygienic.

Since I haven't found anywhere to buy timothy hay for them, the kids and I often pick grass in the neighborhood. The best places are along the university fence, although you have to be discerning and choose spots where drunk university students are not likely to have been peeing. Another good spot is an abandoned lot we walk past on the way to and from school, which has a raised flower bed border behind a wrought iron fence. The flower bed is nothing but grass, and it grows very long. Best of all I know that neither dogs nor humans are likely to have peed in it. 

A long time ago, in 1986 in fact, my 8th grade homeroom teacher (Mr. Jones) told me that all writers are weird. At that precise moment in time I decided not only to accept but to revel in my weirdness. I think it's pretty typical of third-culture kids to go through life always feeling a little out of place; some camouflage it (protective coloration), others revel in it, others are just selective about when and how they express that facet of themselves. 

So I've embraced the bizarreness of my public grass-picking practice. I'm the crazy neighborhood cuy lady. 

I've been thinking a lot recently about how our kids will learn to manage this aspect of themselves. This year has been a bit of a struggle for Valerie going to school in her second language. First grade is a whole new challenge of mastering language and content at the same time. I've been thinking a lot about the migrant kids I worked with in the US and the similar challenges they faced there, and strategies we used to help support them and their families, and how I might translate some of those strategies into our context here. 

Gabe

Gabriel is so smart. I know every parent thinks this about their child, but Shpresa agrees with me – she says he is “zgjuar,” which literally means “awake” (we would say the same thing in Andean Spanish – despierto), but implies alert intelligence as well.

He’s making sentences with his signs – where is the horse? (hands out with palms up, clicking noise with the tongue); the chicken is asleep (hand by cheek, clucking “ka ka ka”); she bit me (see previous post). Albanians are amazed when we play “si a bënë…” , asking him how does the [fill in animal] go in Shqip, and he makes the appropriate noise or hand motion. He seems to understand English and Albanian equally well; I’m not sure about the Spanish as he only hears it from me rather than conversations between multiple people, and not as often.

He can unscrew the lid off a plastic jar.

And he’s such a rascal! When I say “Gabriel, NO,” he just laughs and runs to do it again. He deliberately provokes me, doing things like shaking water out of his sippy cup while looking at me with a delighted grin and waiting for my reaction.

He tries to sweep with a broom, and can help me wipe up spills from the floor. He hands me clothespins when I’m hanging up the laundry. He will get a wet wipe from the package and wipe himself (not very accurately, though) while I’m changing his diaper. If he sees trash on the floor, he will pick it up, carry it to the kitchen, open the cabinet under the sink, and throw it in the trash can, unprompted. He wants to use the sponge when he "helps" me wash the dishes. He can sometimes feed himself with a fork, with a little help. He also likes to throw food on the floor, though.

(I think our fish are smarter than I previously realized, as well – they know when I turn the lights on in the morning that they’re going to be fed, and they follow me around, watching me through the jar, until I actually do feed them! Also, they’re terrified of an octopus toy I put in their jar once. If it’s even on the table next to their jar, they swim in circles as fast as they can, bonking their noses on the glass until I move it. Poor fishies. I just thought it would be cute. They don’t mind the starfish, but the octopus shape? Pure terror.)

I can’t believe Valerie is already three and a HALF this month, and Gabriel is sixteen months! Where does the time go?

short

One of our fish died :-( The one I called Rosencrantz. It was looking pretty listless for the past few days so I wasn't surprised. I buried it in a flowerpot.

We've been having a lot of fun showing the grandparents around Tirana. It's been pretty hot, but they seem to be managing pretty well so far!

Potty training is going better than I expected with more hits than misses. I'm proud of our Panther-girl.

little pieces of random

These are our fish. Technically, I guess they're Valerie's, since they were a birthday present for her from Shpresa's family - handpicked and carried to our home by her 13-year-old son. We haven't named them yet, although a few ideas I've had are: Picard and Riker; or Bob and Bob (from a Sandra Boynton book). Any other ideas? We have no idea whether they are male or female or one of each.

I think I almost killed them tonight, too - our water was out for a few hours this afternoon, and then later on I cleaned their tank and the fresh water I put in looked a little cloudy. A few hours after that I noticed one of the fish lying half on its side at the bottom of the tank (well, it's really a big glass jar with holes poked in the lid) so I immediately changed the water, using water that we buy to drink and not tap water. They perked up right away so I think they're going to make it.

~~~

Welcome to my office! This is a cafe near our apartment building where I often go to work. I sit at one of the two tables pictured here since there are two outlets handy for plugging in the computer. There's no wireless access, but there is an internet cafe next door if I do need to check e-mail or something on one of their computers.

I like this place for its indoor/outdoor feel, and it's off the main drag so it's usually fairly quiet. It doesn't get too hot, either, except in the middle of the day. They don't serve food, but I usually get a macchiato or juice to drink. The height of the table is not ideal for typing but it's ok.

The photo below is from another place I go to sometimes, a cafe called "Camelot." No wireless here either, but the service is very friendly and they do serve food which is nice if I decide to stay through lunch. The tables are bigger which makes it a good place to spread out if I need to. It does get very hot, though, since they get direct sun all morning long.

There are one or two other places I go to regularly but I don't have pictures of them yet.

~~~

Terry bought a second floor fan for our apt. today, and Gabriel was completely fascinated. He was not very happy when we took away the screwdriver, though. How cute is that pudgy little guy though? (Gabriel is pretty adorable, too, don't you think?) :-)