Juma-isms

Juma usually wakes up around seven, then wanders into our bedroom with his watch to show there's a 7, the time when he can officially bug us to feed him breakfast.

Yesterday, though, he didn't come in and I didn't hear him in the bathroom or getting dressed. I figured he slept in, so I took advantage of it and stayed in bed until 8. When I finally got up, I found him in his bedroom, buck naked, sitting on the giant bean bag we inherited from Jody and Patrick, reading. "See me read. This is a 'K,' this is a 'T,' this is a 'A."

"Time to get dressed, Juma."
"I'm reading."
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On Monday, we were playing outside with his friend, but it was getting close to bathtime. I told Juma it was time to go in, but he resisted. I tried to give him a choice: come in now, or if you wait to come in, you'll get time out. He calculated for a second, and made his choice: "I'll take time out!" Playing for a few more minutes was apparantly worth the punishment. I retracted the offer.
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Yesterday we were playing outside, but he was getting fussy--hungry or tired, I don't know. He asked to go in. I told him, Sure, just go get your lacrosse stick and bring it in. He looked at me like a boss about to fire someone whom he will be secretly glad to see go, and said, "Mmm, actually, you're going to bring it in."

"No," I told him, "I'm not. You brought it out, so you bring it in."
"No, Mom. The rule is: who brought it out, doesn't have to bring it in."
"No, honey, you mess it up, you clean it up."

We compromised. He carried it to the door, and I carried it up the stairs.
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The three of use were snuggling in bed, and I kissed Juma on the head. "Mom, I don't want kisses. I only want kisses at night before bed and when you say goodbye at school. When my parents, you [pointing to Justin] and you [pointing to me] say goodbye at school. That's when I want kisses."

May in New England

Click on pictures to see a larger image. The two in the forest are from a hike at West Rock park. The two with the rain boots are in our apartment courtyard, after a big May rain.

yikes

Having made the trip to Tanzania 3 times before (and 4 for Justin), we kind of slacked off about getting things ready. It's so old-hat that we are a little blinded to what a big deal it really is to, say, buy three plane tickets to the other side of the world. But we finally got around to it--after all the August flights were sold out. So we had to adjust our dates a bit, but we got some tickets.

We'll take off on June 12 and return September 1, just before school starts.

it's official

I'm a scuba diver:
















Well, it means I can dive in open water (no caves, shipwrecks) and down to thirty feet. And I pretty much need a more skilled diver to go with me to navigate and make sure I don't forget anything important, like turning on my air or performing the ritual "go away, sharks!" dance.

the planets

Juma: What's that blue thing?

Sarah: Uranus.

Me: snort, snort

new bike

Juma got a new bike for an early birthday present. Now we can ride all around town, pulling Juma along.















He only has to pedal when he wants, and can shift gears and everything. He feels like such a big kid.

saving the world

Try as we might to keep Juma away from violent and fighting play, he just seems to love Power Rangers (having never seen the show), swords, hunting, and saving the universe Buzz Lightyear style.

I've given up on, "Juma, we don't play guns...Don't play like that," since he'll do it anyway, just behind my back. I'm trying a different tactic of trying to understand his games and rerouting them into less violent means. For example, if he's killing bad guys, I'll ask why he's killing them and how else can we deal with bad guys besides killing them.

One time, he had a hex tool with a 90 degree angle in it. He held it up and said, "It looks like a gun!" I suggested it looks like the letter L, and Justin suggested a 7. "Oh, yeah," he said, "it can be an L or a 7!"

For shooting games, at first I tried to say no, which didn't work. Then for a while I tried to reroute it into target shooting. (Now when I catch him shooting things, he says, "I'm shooting bad guys. I mean targets! Just targets!") Once I just decided to pretend hunt with him. We changed the game to hunting deer--but only as much as we can eat and fit in our freezer.

Yesterday, he and a friend turned lacrosse sticks into "ice swords," which they toted around on their backs by shoving them into their jackets.

Saturday, I found him throwing socks around the house.
Sarah: Juma, what are you doing? Why are you throwing socks around?
Juma: I'm trying to get the big rock that's trying to kill us.
Sarah: Why is a big rock trying to kill us?
Juma: We're dinosaurs.
Sarah: Oh, that big rock.
Juma: matter-of-factly The meteorite.

Lest you think he is nothing but a violent boy, he also loves riding bikes, looking for worms, swinging, sliding, playing with cars and trucks, snuggling with a teddy bear at night, hugging and kissing us, reading stories, and doing art crafts.

(And under the influence of the many girls in the neighborhood who are his age, he put on blue sparkly fingernail polish and bright pink lip gloss the other day.)

Happy Mother's Day

to all you moms, and especially my Mom!

Juma came into bed this morning, all dressed for the day, and snuggled up with me. "It's Mother's Day! Happy Mother's Day! I love you, Mom. Oh, let me get you your flower." And he brought in a flower he had planted at school.

"Oh, let me get you your plate." And he brought in a plate he had drawn for me at school.

"Oh, let me sing you the mothers song." And he attempted to sing a song he had learned at school, but he couldn't remember past, "I love you, Mom."

Then we had a big breakfast where we all got so stuffed we didn't even eat lunch.

On another note, Juma fell asleep in the car the other day, so I brought a book out to the car to read while he slept. An hour later, he woke up saying, "Attack! Attack! Attack!" He couldn't remember his dream, but apparantly it was something violent. After all I've done to try to encourage pacifism...

we're done

The semester is finally over. Justin and I both finished grading students' papers yesterday, and I finished my last final on Tuesday. Phaaa-shshshooooo.

So what does the summer have in store for us?

Justin's preparing for oral exams (reading a whole bunch of books) and writing his prospectus (planning the research he'll do in Zanzibar for his dissertation).

I'm working a couple mornings a week, taking a readings course, preparing for my internship in Zanzibar, and enjoying, finally, a break from the intense demands of my first year of grad school. That means I don't have to study every second I'm not with Juma. Just most of them.

The readings course I'm taking I designed myself. I picked the topics and the books and articles, so it's more like reading for fun than a class. The topics are the history, anthropology, and public health of Pemba and Unguja (the two main islands that make up Zanzibar).

The book I'm reading now is by a Brisith surveyor, written in 1913 . The stuff he says really dates him--racist overgeneralizations about "The African" and quirky stuff about health. For example, he recommends wearing a flannel shirt and khaki knickerbockers cut at the knee in the tropical heat, but to be sure to wear extra layers of cotton or flannel over the spine to protect it from the sun. So far the book is turning out to be more informative about surveying instruments and techniques than about Pemba or Pembans.

hair cut

Before:
















After:

I did it!

With only a minimal amount of salt water getting up my nose.

That is, I passed my scuba diving tests in open water--the Long Island Sound. I still have to go back tomorrow (off of Rhode Island) to dive three more times, then I'm certified. It was a little freaky not being able to see more than five feet away, but there was enough on the ground to look at to keep me occupied.

I saw a crab (the body about the size of my palm), a flounder, lots of aquatic plants, algae, and kelp, some mussels, tons of empty sea shells, and best of all, two large horseshoe crabs (see the picture).

our little Yalie

As I've mentioned before, we're teaching Juma how to read and write. Here's a picture of some of his first "sounds." Ssss, mmmm, aaaa, rrrrr, and t (entirely coincidental that these sounds spell "smart").

fine motor skills

Juma's growing up. Check out a picture he brought home from school the other day: his first drawing of a person.

Sarah: Wow, Juma! You drew this? It has eyes and a nose and a mouth!
Juma: Yeah, and a head and skin. And legs.

May Day

For May Day, New Haven celebrates not only May Day but also International Workers' Day. Combine this with the Immigration Rights boycotts, rallies, and marches, and there was quite a bit going on downtown on the Green. (The Green is a two-block park right at the center of town. I couldn't stand that they call it "the Green" at first--the green what?--but now it seems normal.)

Juma and I went to check out the activities after his school. There were a couple other little boys there playing, so Juma quickly made friends and played with them for a couple hours while I sat with their parents and listened to music and speeches. One of the little boys, Michael, came up to me and explained, "I'm always meeting new friends, but then I never see them again. Can you tell me where you live and what street you live on and which house you live it so I can come to your house and play with your son again?" He then began to explain to Juma exactly how to get to his house, "Turn on Flat Meadow, then look for the store..." Given that he lives two towns away, I'm not so sure his directions would work.

It was such a lovely day, and since lovely days are in short supply in Connecticut in the spring, I haven't gotten into the habit of hauling sunscreen around. So we both got a bit sunburned. Juma's is already a tan (he tans so easily he can just think about the sun and get darker).