In which Owen and his parents count down the hits.
It seems that parenting has an element of mad science to it. You change a variable and wait for the effect. Sometimes you get a nuclear reaction. With any luck, you figure out how to prevent one.
With Owen today, we experimented a little. One miss, two hits. The miss: Trying to establish a routine as the Strelos suggested.
Owen, whom we are now calling "Puppet Master," will have nothing of being left lying on his blankets for the much despised tummy time, thank you very much. His puppets shall carry him and, should he command it, sing "Doe, A Deer, A Female Deer..."
(Yes, I actually sang that with Robin. And pretty horribly off-key.)
The hits, however, were BIG hits. Specifically, Owen enjoys the teething ring from Kathy Wren and that New York Times best-selling novel, "The Squishy Turtle and His Friends." Either he's teething or he was really hungry because our buddy Owen had some serious gobble action going on up until the bottle arrived.
Post bottle, we enjoyed several readings-- and tastings-- of "Squishy Turtle." The plot has many subtleties. You discover a new twist every time you read it.
We wrapped our visit up with a nice nap on Puppet Mommy's stomach. There was a suggestion that the blankets on the floor might be a nice place for a nap. Ha! How ridiculous! No, my puppets. You shall be my bed and you shall enjoy it!
On the way home we made another visit to the infamous Viola Market, but this time we took interpreter Inna along with us. With Inna's help, we decided to experiment some more-- a couple pastries stuffed with potatoes or beef, some tortellini stuffed with potatoes and mushrooms, and a roasted chicken split attractively down the middle and flattened (the chicken is still on the bone, by the way, making the whole flattening process somewhat intriguing).
Yes, we're determined to get food poisoning.
Coming home we counted down a couple hits of our own. Some grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch (I set the butter like substance on fire and filled the kitchen with smoke. I think we gassed Lubya, the housekeeper, out of the apartment). We had those with some chips-- they come in cheese, ham (a.k.a. barbeque) and mushroom flavor. Not too bad if I say so myself.
Meal times are a big deal in Kokshetau. Life and death decisions, here. I'm not kidding.
After that, Matt and Audrea left the kids with Lubya-- just 500 tenge for babysitting in Kokshetau-- and we went for a nice walk to the Tsum store. The big hit along the way: Hats. If you're Kazakh, you just don't go outdoors without a giant, mammalian creation perched atop your noggin. Amerikanyetc, with their pointy stocking caps, stick out like the proverbial thumb. I can tell you my giant red ski parka is an eye-catcher, too.
At the Tsum we bought a thermos, a coffee mug and the much desired giant nipple Russian pacifier. Good heavens! Did our birthdays come early? Matt scored huge with a Kazakhstan sweat suit.
All in all, life here is good.
