Because Halloween is exclusively an American tradition, our expat kids are left to their own whims when it comes to the celebration.  Which is fine by us, because it means free costumes out of the dress-up box in the playroom, and a flexible date on which to celebrate.  None of our schedules worked well for October 31st, so for our clan, Halloween was tonight.

We hardly got any decent pictures of the fun, so if you can’t tell, Chickpea was a ballerina princess fairy — a combination of all she wanted to be this year.  Basically, she’s wearing ballet clothes.  Garbanzo was a UT football player — a total cop-out costume of a Longhorn t-shirt, a toy football, and two quick marks on the face with a black marker.

There are no neighbors for going trick-or-treating, obviously, so we did a combo Easter/Halloween game of finding the hidden candy around the house.  I think our friends will be finding candy until they move out, which is definitely better than finding hard-boiled eggs.

We also scored orange pumpkins, which is a rarity in these parts.  I’ve seen more this year than in all the falls we’ve been here so far.  But they’re not cheap, so we got two, one for the boys and one for the girls.  If you can’t tell, the girls’ was the one with the heart-shaped eyes and nose and the lips.

Chickpea got to take the pumpkin home, which she dubbed “Katie” (her favorite name right now, for some reason).  Kabob made the grave mistake of telling her that perhaps this weekend, we would use the pumpkin to make some pumpkin pancakes.

CHICK: Nnnnnooooo!!!  Dad, we can’t carve Katie!  (tears welling up in her eyes)  I want Katie to be part of our family forever.  She’s going to be my sister.

KABOB: Um, okay.  She’ll probably last about two weeks.

CHICK: No, Dad!  I don’t want her to last!  I want her to stay forever!

By this point, I was trying to hide my laughing from the front seat so much, we had to change the subject.  But she was on a roll today, as earlier, she greeted me with this as I got out of the shower:

CHICK: Wow, Mom, you smell good.

ME: Thanks.  It’s that new lotion I made last week with our friends.  (side note:  I learned how to make lotion last week).

CHICK: Really, you smell so good.  You smell like those colorful Cheerios that are at Nana and Hot Rod’s house.

ME:  Um…. thanks, I guess.

KABOB: (coming in to the room)  Oh yeah, you do.  I think it’s those apple cinnamon Cheerios.

ME: It’s lavender lemongrass.

CHICKPEA: Well, it smells good.  Not like you usually smell.

Six years ago today, we were in Austin, so we went to P.F. Chang’s and stayed the night at a Marriott downtown, also without the kiddos. We were relishing in the little American pleasures we’d missed out on the past year and a half.

Five years ago today, we ate at some Italian restaurant that’s no longer there. Neither of us can remember the name.

Four years ago today, we were in Orlando, right after having been in Colorado for a month. Our friends watched Chickpea so that we could go grab ice cream for a quick 30-minute date. Six weeks later, we celebrated for real with an overnight trip to Kennedy School in Portland.

Five years ago today, we had absolutely no money, so we graciously used a gift certificate to Fonda San Miguel, courtesy of my parents.

Six years ago today, we took a random road trip up to Seattle and spent the weekend eating seafood, drinking coffee, and getting snowed on.

Seven years ago today, we were married. We said “I do” under a tent in the pouring rain, and we were oblivious to it all. And then we spent a week in Martha’s Vineyard, relishing the gorgeous New England fall colors and our new life as husband and wife.

I love you, babe. Here’s to many more!

She was actually reading a bit better before the camera came out — I think she got a little nervous. Also, she’s starting to fade, seeing as it’s just before dinner. Still… I thought it was pretty good, for a 4-year-old. I could just be a proud, biased mama, though.

Sorry about the length… I suspect only the grandparents will watch the whole thing.

Life has been good, but busy.  Kabob is working on another video project, and as usual, I’m up to my eyeballs in web design code.  I’d get in to details, but it’s kinda boring to write about and probably even more boring to read about.

The kids are well.  Garbanzo is in to EVERYTHING.  Everything.  And since we live on the fifth floor of our high-rise, it’s kept me pretty busy.  Thankfully, he’s not trying to climb the balcony rail.  But he does climb chairs, and then tables from there, which gives him decent height for reaching the top of the balcony rail.  Scares the pants off this mama.  So…  I’m kept on my toes until he crashes at night.

He loves his sister, and copies everything she does.  So his motor skills are developing quickly — he loves pretending to read books, drawing (with the markers, if he can find them), and going to school.  On our couch.

Speaking of school, homeschool is going unbelievably well.  It’s amazing what a small amount of planning and preparation can do.  We’re still loving Five in a Row.  So far, we’ve traversed the Yangtze River in China and small town life of Alto, Ohio in the 1940s.  After a short unit study on autumn, we’ll then be going to France with The Glorious Flight and Madeline.  Which is apropos for our actual trip to France, which we’ll take right after those lessons (see?  Planning is miraculous).

Other than FIAR, Chickpea’s learning to read through The Ordinary Parent’s Guide to Teaching Reading.  I love this book.  Teaching reading tends to be trial and error, so I’m thankful that we’ve seemed to strike gold on our first try.  She’s on to blends, like ng, bl, and st, and she’s slowly starting to read short, easy books on her own.  For some reason, her favorite word she’s learned so far is “bulb.”  Cracks her up every time.  Not sure why.

Kabob does the science with her when he’s home in the afternoon on Wednesdays (I go to the office that day).  It’s nothing major; just the science associated with FIAR.  So with Ping, they did an simple experiment of sinking and floating, talking about why some things float and others don’t.  With Lentil, they discussed taste buds and the different types of taste categories.  So after sucking on a lemon, he had her observe the types of tastes with other foods.

I do the FIAR lessons on all the other days.  Right now, a good flow for us has been geography or history on Mondays, literature on Tuesdays, math on Thursdays, and art on Fridays.  Adding reading and phonics to the mix, our entire schooling repertoire takes two hours, max.  So far, we’re on a nice groove.

Book writing has taken almost the rest of my time, typing away during naptimes, after the kids are in bed, and here and there as I find little nuggets of time (they are few and far between).  As Kabob and I have said many times, I am so thankful book writing is a season, with an end in sight.  If this was our life’s M.O. all the time, I’d go nuts.  With ten chapters down, six to go, I’m ready to see the light at the end of this long tunnel.

To keep from going insane, I try to sneak in a little sewing each weekend.  Nothing major, just little projects here and there.  Last weekend I made a skirt that promptly did not work.  Oh well.  I’m making more of these dolls for our kids, and I’ll probably whip up some of the clothes and make it a complete Christmas present.  I’d love to try out this twirly skirt soon.  I may have to see if I can do a grown-up version, too.

So… That’s us.  Not much else.  I’ve got a bazillion photos to add to Flickr, which of course I haven’t done.  Maybe this weekend.

Hope you are well!

… but not quite that disastrous.  Here are the things that broke yesterday:

• The electric kettle.  We use this daily for our coffee.
• The camera lens filter.  I thought it was the lens at first, so it was a huge sigh of relief.
• The hook next to the stove that holds the oven mitts.
• A vintage-looking Hershey’s chocolate tin in our bedroom.
• Garbanzo’s “moon man.”  It’s this little guy that plays music when you press his tummy.  He loves him.
• The back door of the Peugot we’re currently borrowing.  Just decided to no longer open.
• Chickpea’s favorite flashlight lens.  This is her nightlight of sorts; she likes to keep it on her bed to read.

It was bizarre.  Was there something different with the moon’s gravity?

Hallelujah.

Also, shock of all shocks — I updated Flickr, so there’s a few new family photos. Email me if you don’t have the link!

• CHICK: Mom, what is wine made of?
• ME: Wine?  Grapes, mostly.
• CHICK: No, it’s made out of water.
• ME: Are you thinking of when Jesus turned water into wine?
• CHICK: Yes.  Okay, pretend you are God.  Take my water here, and turn it into wine.  And then I’ll say, “Oh my word!”

Earlier today, we were snugging on the couch for a few minutes…

• ME: You’re getting so big, but you’ll always be my baby.
• CHICK: No I won’t, I’m not baby-sized like Garbanzo.
• ME: I know, but you’ll still be a baby to me.  Don’t grow up, okay?  I need you to stay little.
• CHICK: (with a panicked look on her face)  Mom, I can’t!  I need to grow big and strong so I can be a grown-up and turn into a mom so that you can be a grandma!

And a few days ago, we were in a nearby country to renew our visas, and we stopped in a grocery store…

• ME: Look, Chick, they have octopus here.  Should we get some?
• CHICK: Ew, no!
• KABOB: Oh, I think we should buy some.  You might like it.
• CHICK: No, I know I won’t like it for three reasons.  One, because it’s disgusting.  Two, because I don’t like it.  And three, because I’ve never had it before.

Since we moved here two and a half years ago, we wanted to go somewhere nearby for vacation, since we didn’t know how long we’d be living here.  We’re finally doing it.

We’ll be vacationing in Paris for the week of Thanksgiving.  Chickpea has already made a list of things we’ll be doing — visiting Madeline is one of them.  I hope she’s not disappointed.

Truth be told, we just knew we wanted to go somewhere.  We need to renew our visas around then, and Paris was the cheapest flight from our city.  And then we found very reasonably-priced housing — an apartment in the center of the city.  That means we won’t need to rent a car to do things, and we can cook two out of three meals from the kitchen.  Well, who are we kidding — we’ll probably eat pain au chocolat every morning for breakfast as we walk by the neighborhood patisserie.  We’ve been saving every last penny from the blog’s income, so we now think we can do this frugally.

And since it’s late November, it’ll probably be cold and rainy.  But hey, Paris is Paris, right?  To thank the kids for seeing the Mona Lisa, hiking down the Champs Elysees, and pondering the thoughts of Rodin, we’ll probably end the trip by visiting Tinker Bell and spinning teacups.  It’s a tacky thing to do in France, but not when half of you is under four.

I seriously cannot wait.

Ramadan (like all Muslim holidays) follows a lunar calendar, so the exact dates of the 30 days changes from year to year.  For the next few years, it will be during the summer, which has the longest days of the year and some pretty hot temps.

As we watch our neighbors abstain from food, drink, and tobacco, letting their bodies go into withdrawl from caffeine and cigarettes, I wonder how they do it.  It’s documented here that there are many more traffic accidents around 5 p.m. during Ramadan, when people are rushing to get home from work and break the fast.  I can’t imagine what it will be like this time of year, when the sun sets around 8:30.

Traditionally, there’s a man in each neighborhood that will go around, banging a (very) loud drum just before sunrise, encouraging people to wake up and take one last bite.  They’re officially illegal, and thankfully, our neighborhood has a tight reign on its prohibition.  We have other expat friends in the city, however, who have their own personal drummer right outside their window, waking them from a deep slumber.  At the end of the 30 days, he goes from door to door, asking for a tip. For the sleep deprivation.

Be thinking of 20% of the world for the next month.