I'm still on my sibling soliloquy ...

Not only have my brothers not met some of my children, some of my children have not met my children.

With such a huge gap between my first set of kids and my second ... a chronological space of thirty-two years and a physical distance of more than 10,000 miles ... I've never imagined the four of them growing close.

My oldest daughter's daughter is a year older than Sam, so it's not likely... more

Still on topic of siblings ...

From the article in Time ...

One of the greatest gifts of the sibling tie is that while warmth grows over time, the conflicts often fade. After the shooting stops, even the fiercest sibling wars leave little lasting damage. Indeed, siblings who battled a lot as kids may become closer as adults--and more emotionally skilled... more

Following up on the sibling article I posted about yesterday ... I've always been happy about being the oldest child, although not always so pleased with having nothing but brothers. Turns out, however, that the fact that my brothers had an older sister could have given them a real advantage:

Last year William Ickes, a psychologist... more

A very interesting article in Time has me thinking this morning about sibs ... mine ... my kids' ... other peoples' ... brothers and sisters specific and in general.

Subtitled, "Your parents raised you. Your spouse lives with you. But it's your brothers and sisters who really shaped you. Surprising research reveals how," had me intrigued and examining the connections in my family.

... our brothers and sisters are our collaborators and co-conspirators, our role... more

Continued from this post.

We stopped at home for a nap (For me and for Cj. Sam and Mark were busy doing guy stuff.), then headed out for the 4th of July "bash". This was hosted by the owner of a local hotel, himself an American ... sort of ... and we went with the idea of hot dogs and burgers, some ice cold beer, and possibly ice cream or something 4th of July-ish. I'd expected to see a game of softball, maybe, or horseshoes (although I must admit I've never seen horseshoes... more

Some traditions just don't translate. Or perhaps it's that, like certain wines, they don't travel well.

The Americans in Seychelles, all of about twenty of us, got together today to celebrate the 4th of July. That was the intended point of the event, in any case, even though not one kid wore red, white and blue and "Old Glory" was nowhere to be seen. No one whistled the tune that goes with, "This is the cereal that's shot from guns ... boom, boom" (If you don't get that reference, it's because you're younger than I am.), and there were no sparklers or pyrotechnics of any sort.

What... more

As readers know, I live in a land of simple pleasures and low-tech toys. The kids' beach bag carries a ball, a couple of empty formula tins (with the free scoops that come with), floaties and some cookie cutters. Fun is had.

When not beaching it we still have very little use for batteries ... a box of band-aids is a costume shop and a cloth diaper makes a super hero.

Today,... more

I wrote recently about a couple of Seychelles families bringing Cambodian children home and how very happy we all are about their new additions.

Both were adopted from the orphanage where my kids were cared for (AOA, near Phnom Penh), and since they were going there to get their little ones, we asked them to take some things for us. AOA gets quite a bit of support from adoptive parents, with some contributing monthly, others donating... more

Mark and I are uncomfortably perched on the horns of a dilemma. For the past months we've been running from one end of the see-saw to the other hoping the fulcrum will shift a bit and give some idea of on which side of the issue we should sit down and stick. No luck, so far.

Then, last night I had the idea to ask for opinions here. After all, Blogreaderland has a population of smart people with loads of diverse info and insights, some of which you might be willing to share with me.

So...

(Patience, please, as I lay the groundwork and give the... more

Of all the new experiences Sam had in Africa, one is certain to seem a bit mundane to most of you.

He had his first session on a swing. Of course, this was an African swing, so carved from some beautiful piece of hardwood and hung from a huge tree I didn't recognize. And while he pendulummed back and forth under the darkening African sky a hyrax shrieked for a mate.

That's right. My poor, deprived little boy has lived for more than three and a half years and had not, to my recollection or his, been on a swing before an evening in Kenya made that simple pleasure possible.

Why?

We've... more