Community building.

I'm not a member of the FS community. I'm a want-to-be. I am a spouse of a person who wants to be in the FS. That makes me, well, nothing, I guess. No letters for that. Not EFM, not MOH, nothing.

For a while I read people's blogs to find out what this whole FS thing was all about. Because honestly, when my husband first said he was interested in taking the FSOT, I was like this..."Um, Ha! That's funny. What? Listen, start the laughing... now."

So, anyway, I lurked and read and read between lines. I tried to guess if people sounded happy or not. If people liked their lives. If people had messed-up sounding kids. I mean what else did I have to go on? We bought the Realities of FS Life books. But I wanted real, current info. Blogs fit that. But I never commented on anybody's blog. Because I was really just a nobody. Even though I started my own little blog, I kept my comments to myself.

But then I got a little brave. And I commented on a blog. Then another. And a few people commented back. There was one blog where I commented on a cute cat. A blog that had, um, about 20 close-up pictures of the cutest Maine Coon cat. And that one blog was just so honest and so purely happy. And it was A Daring Adventure. And holy cow... she wrote me back. And her comments went out to many people. And she started to connect these random blogs and make jokes and poke fun and draw us all in. And all of a sudden, I wasn't a nobody. I wasn't just some crazy person alone in the universe struggling to figure out what the heck was happening to my life with this whole Foreign Service Nutball Job Thingy. I was (and am) included. And encouraged. And laughed with. (And maybe at.) But I am part of the community.

So, thank you, Kolbi. I'm glad you are back. I'm thankful for what you've done. Whether you know it or not.

Don't forget your...

My husband has a lot on his plate. Not his real dinner "plate." His life "plate."

I mean don't we all?

I do a fair bit of reminding. If you call me a "nag" I will drop-kick your ass. Be warned.

But he forgets things. He has gotten to the check-out line of the grocery store (after filling the cart) and realized he has no wallet. He has taken both my car keys and his car keys when I needed to go somewhere with the three kids, leaving me stranded. (I borrowed a neighbor's car.) He packs and forgets his lunch regularly. He forgets his glasses and cell phone at least once a week and drives down the block then returns. My five-year-old daughter says, "Hi, Dada! What did you forget, Dada? Your glasses? Cell phone?"
I love him.

So here's me yesterday morning as he's heading out the door for work:

Do you have your lunch?
Do you have your briefcase?
Do you have your wallet?
Do you have your keys?
Do you have your German homework?
Do you have your cell phone?

Seven-year-old S was nearby, eating his breakfast. He's funny. Here he is at a Revolutionary War Fort.

So, as I am questioning my husband, S jumps in, "Do you have your Barack Obama mask?"

???!!!???
And I just started cracking up. And then S starts laughing.
My husband kind of looked sideways at S.
Then S said, "Dada, don't forget your Abraham Lincoln hat."

And we laughed. 

Then S said. "Don't forget your bazooka."

Then S and I started just adding goofy things. And laughing.

Don't forget your banjo. 

Don't forget your snorkel.

Don't forget your coconut bra. 

Don't forget your sting ray.

Don't forget your car.

Don't forget your watermelon.

Don't forget your machete. 

Don't forget your drum kit.

Quill pen.

Stethoscope.

Rollerskates.

Binoculars.

Pole vault.

Pommel horse.

Beef jerky/ turkey jerky.

Flattened cardboard for break dancing...

By this time my husband had long ago left for work. S and I were still laughing and adding things and laughing. 

It was a late night for my husband. After work he had German tutoring and then a different German speaking group. I call it "Double German Night." My husband gets home after the kids are in bed. So I get the kids off the bus, help them do homework, make dinner, do baths and showers, books, snuggling, etc. Earlier, as the kids and I were walking the dog through the woods, we were laughing about the funny list of things for Dada to take to work. And we started adding more silly things, and laughing more. (You can only imagine the list.) And I thought how sad it is that my husband is missing out on these great moments. These funny kids. This is life. Happening right now. It's passing by as he spends hours, days, weeks, a year (will it be years?) trying to get this job. It's a job! And is it a job that will mess up our lives? Will it leave us with a dad who works 15 hour days, living in housing with too few beds, with bugs, with isolation, with no woods in which to play? But at least if he gets the job we will have prepared the list of things he should take in his briefcase for the first day of work. I'd like to see the faces on the security guards at FSI for that one. Really, dude, a coconut bra?!

Weapons for sale!

My children, children of a possible future diplomat, went door-to-door in our neighborhood. Selling candy bars for some sports team? No. Offering to rake yards? No again. Collecting cans and bottles? Oh, of course not! They worked hard in the woods behind our house making weapons. Yes, weapons. My little Quaker children are really taking the pacifist lessons to heart.

The boys (ages 7 and 9) made bows and arrows whittled from sticks. They made spears from long sticks with rocks lashed to the sharpened ends. They made sling shots. They worked really hard. They worked together. They used their cub scout skills. They included their little sister in the endeavor. Then...then...they wanted to share their weaponry with the rest of the 'burbs. They decided they NEEDED to go door to door selling their handmade weapons. With a sign stating their names and then "Weapons," like Smith and Wesson. Each weapon came with a lifetime guarantee. And a lesson on how to use it.

I was proud and horrified at the same time. They made one sale. To our good friends who always try to encourage the kids. "Wow, that is so creative! I think we will take the slingshot, it looks safest for R (their son). Otherwise R might shoot his eye out. But that is AWESOME!! You guys did a great job!"

Good thing that Top Secret Security Clearance already went through. Because if I was asked if I have any relatives who are weapons dealers... I'm not naming any names but..."Slingshot-S" and "Bow-n-arrow-B" come to mind.

Hard-cracked.

This is completely and totally selfish. But I want to be able to write about something exciting happening in my life too. Rather, I want something exciting to be happening in my life. Then, I will write about it.

I have many congratulatory good wishes for all who have made it in to A-100 classes. I am happy for people selling vehicles and houses and sorting through boxes of stuff. I'm glad that the people in my husband's OA group are finding out where they will be posted. I am happy for 21 year olds who are not even graduated from college and are #1 on the PD register. Ok, maybe not happy. Maybe I'm jealous. And envious. Are jealous and envious the same?

I think I've gotten slightly crazy with this whole FS process.

I was thinking that my moods might have some parallels with the stages in candy making. I might be at soft-crack or hard-crack.

American Girl

The whole American Girl Doll thing is a bit much for me. Those dolls cost a lot. I mean about $100 for a doll?! But the neighbor girls across the street got them from Santa this past Christmas, so, guess what? "They were free." That's what C said. "The elves just made 'em in the workshop, so they weren't $100."

My daughter C has a birthday in about a month (she'll be 6) and she's started itching for an American Girl Doll. Lanie, specifically.

Her backstory is: "She loves the outdoors and exploring the wonder of her own backyard." (And maybe spinning around in the woods with her arms out in the air, like a nutter, alone, listening to the ipod and singing?) Ack. Screech. No, that's me.

My father and step-mom are going to get the doll for C. Along with matching nightgowns for doll and child.

C will be so happy! Because she asked me if I would get her the American Girl Doll and I said, "No." (Because I'm mean.) And I don't work at the North Pole.

Spinning.

As I write this, Star Wars IV is playing on the TV. My son B is STILL home from school. The fever and cough are still there. I called the doc  this morning, just to make sure we don't need to do something more like switch antibiotics or ... whatever. The doctor said to keep him resting and make him drink lots of fluids. The resting part can be hard for a nine-year-old boy. He's been sick for six days. We've played games. He's read the entire Percy Jackson series. He's read magazines. He's sat out on the deck. He's played Wii. Nintendo DS. He wants to go back to school. So we're on to Star Wars.

I know I haven't written about the Foreign Service recently. It's only because there is nothing to say lately. My hubby is still doing his German lessons three times a week. I'm still feeling kind of bitter about the time that takes up, but I know it's necessary. Will we get the call? Will we?

This weekend is the neighborhood-wide HUGE garage sale. People descend on our neighborhood and buy everything and anything. I had planned on us knowing we'd be heading out by now. I was ready to sell lots of things. Now, I am overwhelmed by the lack of future plans and am not participating at all in the garage sale.

My emotions are swaying like the tall trees in my backyard these days. Sunday, as I was returning from walking the dog, I came down a hill, through the woods, on a winding path. The sun was filtering through the leaves. I looked up at the trees and the sky. There was a good song on the ipod and I had a teary-eyed, goofy, spin-around-all-by-myself-in-the-woods moment. Well, all alone with the dog. But he keeps his secrets. He's got Top Secret Doggie Clearance.

This might happen. But maybe not.

Children's Tylenol Recall

So my son has pneumonia. I've been treating his fever with alternating doses of Tylenol and Motrin. But the fever is still here-- three days later.

Today I found out I've been giving him Tylenol that has been recalled.

If you have children, check the medicine cabinet. Here is the full info: McNeil.
The details are pretty vague as to what is wrong with the medicine.

Here's an excerpt:
"McNeil Consumer Healthcare Announces Voluntary Recall of Certain OTC Infants’ and Children's ProductsFort Washington, PA (April 30, 2010) – McNeil Consumer Healthcare, Division of McNEIL-PPC, Inc., in consultation with the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA), is voluntarily recalling all lots that have not yet expired of certain over-the-counter (OTC) Children’s and Infants’ liquid products manufactured in the United States and distributed in the United States, Canada, Dominican Republic, Dubai (UAE), Fiji, Guam, Guatemala, Jamaica, Puerto Rico, Panama, Trinidad & Tobago, and Kuwait. (SEE RECALLED PRODUCT LIST BELOW).

McNeil Consumer Healthcare is initiating this voluntary recall because some of these products may not meet required quality standards. This recall is not being undertaken on the basis of adverse medical events. However, as a precautionary measure, parents and caregivers should not administer these products to their children. Some of the products included in the recall may contain a higher concentration of active ingredient than is specified; others may contain inactive ingredients that may not meet internal testing requirements; and others may contain tiny particles. While the potential for serious medical events is remote, the company advises consumers who have purchased these recalled products to discontinue use...."

On edit: I realized that the recall includes more than just Tylenol. Also Motrin, Zyrtec, and Benadryl. Take a gander. The FDA is recommending using generic products. Hm.