Happy Birthday Mom!

Sagar, Me, and Nisha, out on the town for a special birthday dinner.

Happy Birthday Mom!

I wish I wasn’t so far away. I wish that you could be here with us just this one night. I told the kids that it was your birthday today and they were like…

“Grandmother!?! Why isn’t she here then?!?!!

“She’s such a good dancer!”

“I wish she could come here to dance.”

“When is she coming again Maggie?”

Today was Big Nisha’s birthday too. Remember how we called you last year and sang Happy Birthday? It was one of Nisha’s first nights here and we had just finished the downstairs and moved in. You told Nisha what a lucky birthday she had. Yesterday Sagar announced that it was his birthday too. I figured he was just making that up and so we all went into the office and dug out his file to look on his birth certificate. His birthday was 3 weeks ago. I told him that we missed it and that I was sorry and that we’d celebrate it today with Nisha and make one big party. He was thrilled.

Kate’s in London and Libby’s in New Zealand, and I’m here in Nepal. Mom, you taught us to be strong, independent, and confident. I remember you taught me the word intuition when I was like 6 years old and would sit quietly with me and teach me how to listen – listen oh so very carefully. You taught us not to live in fear, to see the upside of everything, and to learn from our mistakes. You told us that this earth was ours, to travel, to touch, to treasure. You taught us to respect others, respect ourselves, respect our bodies. You told us that when we see differences in other people it probably means we have something to learn from them. You’ve given us the best, best childhoods a kid could ask for, put both Kate and Libby through college and supported me these past 4 years on my travels around the world. You told me yes, yes, yes. You trusted me. This home would not be here without you and neither would these children.

Now you have three grown daughters, on three different continents. I know what other people always say to you. I know what they say because I’ve heard them before. “As a mother, how do you sleep at night? How could you let them do that? I would never ever let my child do that.”

But I know you better. I know you wouldn’t want things any other way, three strong young women on three different continents, living life to the fullest.

Happy Birthday Mama. I miss you.

Make a wish! Sagar and Nisha blowing out the candles.

rainy day

It's been raining and thunder storming for the past 24 hours– the perfect gift on a day when I needed it most.  I stayed in my sweat pants all day, took a nap, and watched the kids splash around and drink the rain.  Our front yard turned into one big puddle and Maya was in absolute heaven.  She got drenched to the bone and came and sat on my lap on the front porch and gave me a kiss like a little wet puppy.  Then she looked at me and said, "Maggie, where does the rain come from?"  

When the children left for school this morning all bundled up in their rain ponchos I went up into my room and got back in bed.  I'm trying to practice my Nepali reading and writing.  I've gotten by far too long with just speaking and it’s hard to help the kids with their Nepali homework, read the newspaper, sign boards etc. My new goal is to study Sanskrit at least an hour a day and be able to read and write fluently in the next 6 months.  (I figure maybe by writing this here I'll actually do it.  We'll see.)  We just got electricity back.  The kids are downstairs watching a movie and I'm going to go pop some pop-corn.  We all talked to Juntara and Kate last night– sang songs and told stories over the computer.  We can’t wait for her to come back home.  I just booked my ticket to London and will be leaving on the 25^th to be there the week of the operation. Juntara should be able to come back in the month following.

*Rain drop blessings to you– where ever you are.

Cock-a-doodle-doo

 

Bupendra arrived with his mother from Kathmandu yesterday around dinnertime.  He was carrying the biggest rooster I’ve ever seen.  He took the rooster and placed it in my arms.

“He wanted to bring you a gift,” his mother said.   “So we stopped at home on the way.”  Bupendra had chosen the biggest, healthiest rooster his family owned. 

Then the rooster started pecking at me and flapping its wings and gawking.  I screamed and dropped him on the ground.  (It was the first time I had ever held a rooster.) The boys untied his feet and began to play with him, thrilled at the prospect of another male in the household.

We have 8 hens and the staff all laughed about how our new rooster will surely change the dynamic in the chicken coop. 

Bupendra and I sat outside, ate dinner, and talked about Kathmandu.  The doctors there have decided to medicate him for the next 6 months.  He will have to come to the regional hospital in Surkhet for weekly injections.  I put my hand on Bupendra’s chest and felt his little heart beating a million miles a minute. 

“He has to go to the hospital first thing tomorrow morning,” his mother said. “Is it okay if we stay here tonight?”  Knowing that it would take a few hours for them to walk back to Gumi, their village, I said sure, and showed them to our guest room. 

Bupendra came outside and we sat under the full moon in bamboo chairs and watched the children play duck duck goose.  I noticed how nicely the older kids were including Santosh and Maya in the game, how Bhukta had tied a teddy bear to the back of Shanti’s tricycle and was chasing her around the yard, how Padam was teaching Puncha how to ride the bicycle.  Padam is my all star athlete and Puncha is my little clown who lacks coordination so it was sweet to watch the two of them–  Padam strongly holding up the bicycle while Puncha’s wobbly feet tried to pedal and balance himself.  I felt proud.

We went upstairs and sang songs by candle light.  We prayed.  We asked God to protect Bupendra and his heart and to make him strong again.

We fell fast asleep snuggling in warm cozy beds and woke up to the cock-a-doodle-doo of one very happy brand new rooster.

Saturdays

Panka, Ansuraj, Bhuhkta, and Deepak

Thank you all for the worm advice.  Shanti has since passed a few more.  (I’ll spare you the details this time.)  I checked out a few sites and verified that they ARE definitely roundworms.  The medicine I gave her a few days back was Albendazole and it’s obviously working so I think I’ll just wait it out from here and keep her eating as much fresh fruit as possible. 

My friends who came to visit left some coffee here, so yesterday I made some for myself and the staff and we all went into “crazy cleaning mode.”  Saturdays around here are always for cleaning up, bathing, washing clothes and getting ready for the school week (which starts on Sunday for us,) but I think the combination of the coffee and the worm incidents caused me to turn things up a notch.  We stripped all the beds and curtains, opened up all the windows, put the mattresses out in the sun, and deep cleaned the kitchen.  The kids were in charge of cleaning up the yard and organizing their rooms.

I love Saturdays here.  This may seem strange but I actually enjoy vigorously scrubbing at the boys’ black soiled feet, and lathering up a washcloth to clean their dirt-streaked necks.  I love watching their faces as they jump into the freezing cold shower and hearing their shrieks as they playfully pour jugs of water over each other.  Afterwards when they’re all clean and fresh and soft, I comb their hair and sniff in all that sweetness, knowing very well it won’t last and that in a few minutes time they’ll be back in the dirt wrestling each other, and sweating and searching for bugs and worms and tadpoles.  I know it's just a matter of hours before the fresh soap smell is replaced with the salty grungy dirty-little-boy smell, which I love just the same, but don’t particularly savor as much. 

Yesterday as we sat in the sun, cleaning ears, trimming fingernails and putting Burt’s Bees on dry cracked feet I thought about how soon these little boys will be all grown up– how the day will come when they won’t let me bathe them, or trim their fingernails, or pick out their clothes for them.  I remember a few summers back at one of my summer babysitting jobs a mother and I were sitting by the side of the pool under an umbrella watching her children play, and giggle and splash each other.  She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “sometimes I wish I could just stop time.”   I was a teenager at the time and her words didn’t really mean much to me that day but since then I found myself remembering them and understanding exactly what she meant.  There really are moments that are so perfect and precious and sweet that you want to freeze them just the way they are.  I wish that I could bottle up all the innocence of these children and save it forever. 

worms

Today I watched as Shanti pulled an 8 inch worm out of her butt and threw it onto the sidewalk.  It was horrifying. I mean like, I'm having post-traumatic visions of little roundworm larvae crawling all over my bed.  I can handle lice and scabies and vomit and urine but today really took things to a whole new level.  I always give all the kids a dose of this deworming medicine when they first come in to rid them of whatever parasites they have but I've never seen anything this graphic.  I've been online for the past hour looking at pictures and reading about how females lay hundreds of thousands of eggs a day in your intestine and that if they multiply enough they can take over your body and start coming out your nose.  I told my dad about this today and the first thing he said was, "did you take a picture?"  I was like, "Dad seriously? Did I take a picture?  Yah, my four year old pulled an 8 inch worm out of her butt and the first thing I did was run upstairs and grab my camera to be sure to capture the moment.  Don't worry I remember very well what it looked like."

Thoughts anyone?  What about natural remedies or diet to help get rid of these creatures?  I have a feeling our little friend today will be the first of many.