Representing the USA

We didn’t go to church last Friday (Sunday) because Josh was in Lebanon and I didn’t want to take the kids to church by myself when I knew that I’d end up outside wandering around in the heat with the baby. She’s fine as long as the singing lasts, but when it gets quiet and the pastor starts praying, she starts “talking.” Loudly. Taking her outside meant that the boys would be left unchaperoned in the service and if I have to soothe a tired baby, I’d rather do it from the airconditioned comfort of my own home than get everyone dressed and fed and drive 10 minutes for the non-privilege of sweating through my wrap as baby and I do laps around the church building.

So all that to say that we were out of the loop as we arrived at church yesterday, Sunday — I mean Friday. We were about 5 minutes late and we walk in to hear the worship band playing and singing, but the building was only about 1/2 filled when it’s normally standing room only. We sit down and whisper to each other how strange it is that only a few people seem to be singing or paying attention when we hear the worship leader address the band saying, “that sounds great. See you back here in 20 minutes.” Ugh, it’s a combined service day. 1 service means SUPER-CROWDED and it starts at 9:30 instead of 9 and 11. On the bright side, being ultra-early means that it’s easy to find somewhere to sit.

Since they have about 30 minutes to kill, the boys go wander around outside for a while, Josh plays a game on his touch, and I calculate that about the time the service starts is going to be the time that Camille gets restless and wants to go walk around. Yipee for me. Meanwhile the church is filling up with people who look extra dressed up. Lots of tribal clothes and headpieces, extra sparkly saris, there’s even a girl wearing a cute skirt and bonnet who looks like she stepped right out of a “Welcome to Holland” postcard. I look at the program and see that it’s Pentecost so I figure that people must be dressed up to celebrate the holiday they way they did for Easter.

Josh goes to get the boys because service is about to start and comes back empty-handed, saying the kids are all doing a march of countries with flags and things and the boys agreed to help out. Sweet.

So church finally starts. I’m picturing all the kids marching in together waving flags of different countries to celebrate how on Pentecost the Holy Spirit allowed the disciples to preach in the languages of the world. Well, that’s sort of how it went. Because our congregation has members from 60 bazillion different countries it turns out that the kids from each individual country marched in carrying their own flag and wearing the traditional dress of their own country. Uh oh. Now I get why everyone is dressed “uniquely” today. And I look at Josh and myself and realize why the pastor’s wife asked where we were from. We’re both wearing head to toe blue and white and both in flip-flops — unintentionally matching. She must have been surprised when we replied “the US” since there was not a speck of red to be seen on either of us. Who we’re really representing is the country of REI, since aside from our flips, every piece of our clothing hails from there.

So the parade starts with all the countries of Africa — Ghana, Rwanda, Chad, South Africa, etc . . . as each country is announced the congregation cheers and the kids proudly march in, flags waving high, in beautiful bright geometric prints and striped robes. Josh and I jokingly wonder if our kids will be holding the US flag or if they’re going to put them with any old white country. Then the Asian countries are listed — Philippines, Korea, Japan . . . some gorgeous kimonos, drapey, silky robes . . . beautiful. A few minutes later and a few continents later, they finally they get to the western countries and who do we have? Australia: There goes Calvin, by himself, in his “Not right now, I’m watching the game” t-shirt, weakly waving the Australian flag. Followed by Carter, representing New Zealand, thankfully wearing stylish Billabong button-down shirt and shorts. The kid knows how to dress. I think the Kiwis would approve. And finally, for the good old US of A, we get Caleb in a ratty grey baseball t-shirt from Old Navy that is all stretched out in the neck because he keeps chewing on it. :sigh:

Then the kids all stood on stage and sang Jesus Loves the Little Children and Josh and I laughed so hard that we had tears in our eyes. You can see Caleb and Calvin off to the right. Carter is the little white faced speck wearing a white shirt just to the right of the cross in the back row. Way to represent, kids.

a school of fish

Can you see them? 1, 2, 3, 4.
We went out to the dive center yesterday and Josh taught the boys to snorkel.



It was really hot. Like 120 degrees hot.


but as long as you stayed in the water it was comfortable.


These little fish didn’t leave the water at all for the two hours we were there. Partly because stepping on the sand was like fire on your feet.


Josh showed them how to put on the masks and breathe through the snorkel and they were ready to hunt for sea creatures in just a few minutes.

The coolest find? Calvin with the tiniest crab I have ever seen. It was walking all over his hand.

There weren’t a ton of things to see there — some sea urchins, tiny schooling fish, a few fish the size of my hand and a bazillion sea snails/hermit crabs, but it was a great location because it was shallow, no waves or current, and they could cover a large area without needing a grownup right next to them.

Meanwhile, I sat in a beach chair in the water and Josh and I took turns holding the baby and playing with the mask and snorkel.

It was a great day to be a fish.

An unfortunate typo

A busy street corner. A huge green sign on the side of a building.

It really says that. I know there’s a joke in there somewhere, but I’m not witty enough to make it.

Time to visit the Clinique counter

and show this girl how to apply her eyeliner properly. She got a hold of a colored pencil while the boys were doing school and managed to draw this line across her face and right along her eye. Ouch!

She’s not crying because it hurt, but because I took the pencil away and tried to take a picture of her face.

To nominate me for Mother of The Year 2011 go here.

*the link takes you to somewhere that always makes me laugh. If you think that one is funny, you’ll probably like this one too. 

** I have been informed that the links are not viewable from an ipad. Sorry your awesome toy isn’t perfect. I guess you’ll have to use a regular computer like the rest of us folks that are still living in the last decade. 

a touch of class

I love and hate the photos in this post because they show what awesomely (awful) ornate furniture you can buy here, but they don’t even come close to capturing how glittery, shiny, and over the top everything is.

Back when we went to pick out our new mattress, Josh, the baby, and I wandered around the home furnishings section of the store and furnished our imaginary house. This futon-like couch was actually something I could see myself using. I wanted to get a better picture of it, but the baby kept crawling away.

We tried to imagine how much money you’d have to have to purchase a purple glitter dining room set.

close up of the glitter accents

We actually really loved this sofa set. It looked like something you’d find in a sultan’s tent, but it was really comfortable. Completely not our style with all the beading and gold trim, but we were cracking each other up with the idea of buying it, putting it in our house where it would totally stand out and pretend that it didn’t look at all out of place next to our IKEA furniture when guests came over.

There was room after room after room of the most ornate living room sets I’ve ever seen. And they weren’t cheap. It will be really tempting to come back to America with a piece of furniture that is really over the top — that’s one way that Oman and Egypt are drastically different. Egypt is utilitarian while Oman is flashy. A gate in Egypt is just a gate, here in Muscat it is created from scrolling metalwork and painted gold with black accents. In Egypt the abayas are all plain black, here they are rhinestoned, beaded, trimmed, and trendy. 

Just step behind my gold peacock screen and come sit

on my gold bench.

or if you’d prefer, I have matching gold peacock chairs . . .

Oh you don’t like birds? How about we relax in these sculpted butterfly chairs?