Birthday lessons

In the car, I overhear Mia explaining in English to another missionary kid that she used to have five, but now she has six. Six Princess notebooks? Six lost teeth? Lipgloss? Any of those items would be an appropriate guess for our home. What she was saying, however, is that she used to be 5 years old, but now she is 6. And if you spoke Portuguese, that would make total sense to you. On the eve of leaving for our 2nd furlough I find myself paying attention to things like this.

I am starting to forget nouns. Like, what is the name of that thing that floats above the crib for babies to watch? After seeing it in a book Mia was utterly intrigued and inquired what it is called. "I can't recall," I told her, "now go back to your homeschool lesson." I bring it up because I realized a few weeks ago that I just cannot recall the name of one of my former patients from back in the PICU. At the time and for many years after I could not imagine I would ever forget her after the impression she left. And I hate it that I can't remember it. I blame it on the Portuguese that is now taking up brain space. But it bothers me most of all because it suggests some of the tender and meaningful parts of my past are slipping away. This is how life is, I suppose, but I cannot help but wonder how having dual lives plays a part in it.

Ava loves a good party. That would be her with the pink princess dress on. She has been planning her surprise birthday party for about a week now, informing Cleny and I when we should turn on and off the lights and when everyone should yell surprise and that next everyone should complement her on her dress and hair.

I turned her down a notch each day so that by today the party we threw for her at her school was just what she wanted.

In accordance with Brazilian tradition (or at least the Brazilians we hang with), Ava cordially passes out her birthday cake with brigadeiros (fudge balls?) on the side. I attempted to keep it typically Brazilian but need to admit defeat when we brought out the silly string and had the whole class hysterically chasing Ava for a chance to get webbed. I will be adding Silly String to my import list. The boys at the orphanage would love it.

As we look forward to our time in the States, it's apparent that it will take time for our family to adjust to a different language, pace of life and customs.   The longer we are away, the less familiar "home" is.  It's a strange notion really, but one we are becomeing more comfortable with.