Super Easy Beanbags

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Hey! I've been a little out of sorts watching everything disappear into boxes around here and even having to sleep in a different bed. But I had a really good nap today, so I just might survive!

Oh, and an update? Mommy says we are on the way to Zimbabwe, where I'll get to play with other kids at an orphanage there! We've got some details to work out and a few trips to take before we get there, but I think that's where we're going...

In the meantime, here is a guest post from Ms. Shannon. Mommy gets lots of cool ideas of things for me to do from her blog, so we're excited to share some of those on OUR blog!

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Hi, I'm from TeachingTinytots. I have 2 wonderful girls that I love! I was a preK teacher for 11 years and worked in all the age groups during that time. I loved teaching my oldest before she went to Catholic school. She is doing wonderful in 2nd grade. I teach my youngest at home and plan to until she goes to Kindergarten. I started working on my Early Childhood Degree before I got pregnant and hope to finish after my youngest goes to school. Please check out my site: teachingtinytots.blogspot.com

S loves bean bag games. I will be posting lots of bean bag games over time, so here is a super easy super fast way to make them.

You'll need:

1. An old sock that no one wears (w/o any holes)
2. Ziploc baggies
3. Rice or beans

To make them:

1. Fill the baggies w/ about 1/2 c of rice or beans.
2. Seal shut.
3. Now place into the foot of the sock and tie the leg part into a knot so it is closed and the baggie of beans can't come out.

Now you have some beanbags ready for use whenever you need them!

Update on Beans

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Esmé's Mommy here.

As promised, here is a photo of the newest members of our family, Ginger and Pepper. They are still alive and thriving on our negligible garden produce of prickly Chinese cabbage and baby overgrown carrots. Esmé loves offering them food, though sometimes she grabs it back for a bite herself. I’ve never seen her so interested in eating cabbage until this week!

Last week I posted about our gardener Antonio and the dilemma of beans. The post ended with Antonio in the hospital, so I wanted to give you an update. To start, though, I’ll backtrack a little.

Antonio came to work one day last year with the news that his wife had gone crazy. He had taken her to the hospital, where they told him there was nothing they could do, so he should try a traditional healer (aka witch doctor).

We offered to take her to another doctor, but he didn’t see the purpose in that. He took off work for a month and took her north to her family, where sadly she died. So he has been on his own since then.

Then the dilemma of beans I described last week. My husband left Antonio in the hospital on Saturday, and he did not show up for work on Monday. Later that day I learned that our landlord was picking him up from the hospital that afternoon.

Being naturally curious, I have been trying to figure out what was wrong with him and asking everyone I could think of. I can’t call Antonio directly, since he does not speak English.

Here’s how the most fruitful conversation went:

Me: “Do you know what was wrong with Antonio?”

E: “His stomach was like he was pregnant.”

Me: “No, I mean what caused his stomach to be like that?”

E: “Well, he had this dream that he was digging his wife’s grave alongside his brother-in-law. His father-in-law came to him and told him he had a younger daughter and would like Antonio to marry her. And then Antonio woke up and couldn’t move his face.”

Me: “Oh.”
I was way out of my comfort zone on this, so didn’t pursue the conversation further.

Finally on Friday I had E call the landlord, who told us Antonio had been instructed not to eat maize anymore and to eat lots of fruits and vegetables. At least I know it wasn’t the lentils!

It seems he will be okay and will be at work on Monday, but just needs to watch what he eats.

It does boggle my mind that there really are people who have no clue what a good diet consists of, and what types of foods you need to eat to get all your vitamins and fiber and everything else in. We are so bombarded with this info in the US that I have completely taken it for granted.

Dilemma of Beans

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Esmé's Mommy here.

We were awakened at 7:30 this morning, first by hubby’s phone ringing, then mine, and then Cathrine (our empregada) letting herself in the house, which she never does on a Saturday. And now I’m nervously awaiting word from the hospital, praying our gardener Antonio is okay.

We eat a lot of beans. We don’t eat meat, and most foods, even staples, are very expensive in this country. Beans by the 50kg bag are relatively cheap, so beans seem to be a practical menu option.

We inherited Antonio with the house when we moved in last August. I initially attempted to feed him lunch, but after he refused my food several times, I decided not to push my cooking on him any more. I can take a hint. He’s a grown man and can take care of himself.

He showed up for work one morning this week with half of his face paralyzed. My husband took him to the hospital. Diagnosis? Deficiencies of vitamin Bs.

I have an ethical dilemma here. I don’t want anyone suffering from malnutrition on my watch. Though I try to rationalize and say it's like someone slowly killing himself from smoking or obesity, it's not quite the same. We revisit the lunch situation and discover Antonio does not like beans.

For some reason, I found this a little annoying. It’s not like we’re eating caviar and feeding him scraps. Whatever we eat for lunch is available to him, also.

My annoyance was heightened while I paged through the current Time magazine at the US Embassy, waiting for pages to be added to Esmé and my passports this week. There in black and white and color was an article on world hunger, complete with a photo of villagers fighting over a bag of food in Uganda. Beans are a luxury there.

We reached a semi-compromise. Cathrine is now giving him his plate of food for lunch, so I don’t have to deal with personal rejection when he doesn’t like my cooking.

He seemed to be getting better. Until this morning, when he was bloated and in such pain he couldn’t walk.

So I sit here and wonder, was it my lentils? And I think about Antonio sweetly and patiently helping little miss Esmé fill up a fruit bowl with lemons from our overabundance of lemon trees yesterday. And I’m annoyed with myself for being annoyed.