Written 20 October, past bedtime:

Pray is by no means an easy child, which I’ve known since he was 10 months old, but I am so absolutely in love with “my chocolate cake” (his favorite line from our nightly book, You Are My I Love You). Just today, an hour after carrying him screaming and kicking through the streets of Arusha, I stood in the doorway and watched him sleep. I almost woke him up just to hear his voice say “Hi Mama” and cuddle. If he actually slept well during the night, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but after four nap-less days and his usual tossing and turning all night, I figured he needed the deep sleep.

I finally got an appointment with the American pediatrician! Just in time, as a fever has joined his cough and runny nose. I know it’s so American of me to think H1N1, but I just read in the paper that Tanzania has Africa’s second highest rate of H1N1 cases (South Africa is number one). We see the doctor Friday (a three day wait!), but if he’s still fevery in the morning, I will text the doctor and see if he can fit Pray in. Poor guy is so tired and just not feeling well. Unfortunately, he goes from being cuddly (yet miserable) to ornery as ever! We’re working on consequences (Oh! I need to remember to translate that online!) and his orneriness led to no books at bedtime tonight. He now screams “Bibi!” if he gets upset with me. Buddy, Bibi is a bit far away!

We had a big disappointment today. A day after signing the rental contract on our new house, the landlord claims he never agreed to those terms. He originally agreed to x dollars a month for six months unfurnished or y dollars a month for a year furnished (obviously a year long contract was less per month and since Heath plans to be here long term, that would work). We fell in love with the house, if you’ve seen pictures, you know why! It’s beautiful. Four bedrooms, three and a half baths, including a Jacuzzi style tub, a huge kitchen, fireplace, lots of light from all the windows, two balconies, big yard, and a to-die-for view of Mt. Meru. We even bought a puppy off the street to use as a guard dog…eventually. That’s a whole other story, though. :) So the landlord now says he never said furnished and would only spend 1500 on furniture, which after the fridge and cooker leaves about 300 bucks for four beds, dining room set, sofa, etc. Even the realtor was upset, as he is out commission and still has to pay the attorney for drawing up the contract. Oh and about the lie, obviously. So, back to the drawing board. The rent for the house was going to be less than what we pay for this apartment. The apartment is nice and very safe (plus a little boy from Neema’s orphanage just came home to live with his New Yorker mama here!), but it’s just too expensive. It looks like we will be getting rid of Penda (our puppy) if we move to another apartment. The kids will be sad, but then they’ll be back to playing instead of hiding from the dog on the couches. :) Many people have guessed we paid over $300 for him, so it looks like we’ll be able to sell him for a profit, especially once he’s a few weeks older. Even $50 would be amazing, since we paid a whole $15! Impulsive and irrational decisions make such good memories! :) ((Update Oct 21: the landlord said he will provide everything but beds and mattresses. We’re discussing and hoping he will provide two of the four beds.))

Tomorrow will mark one month away from home and three weeks since Pray came home with his mama. That emotionally draining first week and the days that followed seem like forever ago. Sometimes, I even forget I’m in Africa. If it weren’t for the food and the small (ha) issue of missing my mama, I could do this long term. So far, the food issue is the biggest. I’m even craving an Arby’s roast beef sandwich. Oh yum. I’m going to need a sitter for the first Friday we’re home, because I’m going to feast at Fleming’s! Back to forgetting I’m in Africa…I am so used to missing Pray and the kids. I miss NK every single day I’m home, yet here I am, just 40 minutes away, and I’ve visited once in three weeks. The knowledge that I’m keeping Pray’s emotional health in mind assures me I am doing the right thing, but when I think about it (sadly, not everyday…crazy, I know!), I miss my baby Baraka-boo. I miss Andrew’s kisses after he ate a handful of dirt. Saimon saying Amy. Aroni asking to watch Bob. Davey’s mischievous grin. Loveness dancing. Faraja showing me her cuts. Baby Pray’s laziness and outright refusal to walk. Maurine’s eyes when she laughs. Stephen’s wet pants minutes after changing into dry ones. Abduli’s excitement about every little thing. Ericki’s sweet voice. Frankie’s smile. Emanuel’s sudden improvement in speech. Eman’s absolute cuteness. Daines’s big ol eyes. Tumaini when she lies beside me and sucks her thumb. Asimwe and Nisima when they’re being good (ahem!). Heaveni’s willingness to share and help the younger kids. Huseni’s laugh and toothless grin. Wema’s random English phrases. The mamas’ kind laughter at my Swahili. The cheers of “PrayGodi anakuja!” (Pray is back).

Oh, my babies. My reasons for loving this country. Yet, I only think about them every few days. I don’t get sad. Maybe because I know I can hop in a taxi or dala dala and see them? Or is it because Pray and I are so content in our little routine? All of those little things have been replaced. Our morning cuddle before breakfast. That crucial decision of whether to have cinnamon and sugar toast or jelly. Putting on yummy smelling lotion (He does his belly and I’m not allowed to help!) while I brush through those black curls. When Pray asks to “washa hands up!” (washa=watch or in this case, listen. Hands up=Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus). Brushing our teeth together and laughing. Reading “Mama Loves PrayGodi” (aka Momma Loves Her Little Son by John Carter Cash...I colored the little boy brown and he loves it) and You Are My I Love You. When I say, “Now I lay me” and Pray says “down to sleepy.” :) Pray’s list of who he is thankful for, which varies but always includes Mama, Bibi, Bobby, Ashley, Baba Wangu (Swahili for “my dad”), Auntie Mary (his dad’s little sister), Mill-ah, May-con, Neema, Heath, Liza, and Eman mdogo na watoto wote (Eman and all the children…aka NK kids). Along with the other people he’s thankful for, but doesn’t list every night, are the random “go cheese” (grilled cheese, originally mistaken as goat cheese. Silly mama.), zebra, pink toes, paka wa Ashley (Ashley’s cat), Meru, jelly, gari ya Heath (Heath’s car), dala dala (even though he throws his worst fits after riding them!!), pipi (candy), flush (his favorite part of the bathroom!), and booty. Yeah, I discourage including that last one in prayers, but he knows he’s blessed with an adorable booty—we tell him all the time.

I think I’ve made up for the lack of posts. :) There’s a snoring boy beside me and I better catch some sleep before he starts his nightly thrashing which includes hitting or kicking Mama just to make sure she’s there. I awoke one morning to a child curled up between the top of my head and the headboard of the bed. Once we move, I will make him sleep in his gari tent, but for now, my consistency in that arena melts along with my heart when he has to hold my hand in order to fall asleep. Mama’s boy for sure!