I love Saturday

Waking up and not having to go to work is always such a pleasure. Not that I was pleased when Bee started hollering that it was "morning time" at 5:20 am. We pulled out her book basket and sent her to her room to read by herself for a while. This worked splendidly until about 6 am when she came roaring back into our bedrooms, ready to start the day.

And why not? I have never been a morning person, but always manage to feel very accomplished whenever I get up early on the weekends and get things done. While Bee was busy playing "grocery store," We baked some fresh cinnamon rolls. We made them from scratch about a month ago, but it made so many that we froze half of them unbaked. All we had to do was let them defrost in the fridge overnight, and then pop them in the oven.

I took Max for a walk, was followed by a pair of very disreputable young men until they realized that I knew that they were following me. I made a beeline for the American Ambassador's residence and the guards that stand post out front. They declined to follow. It is a real shame that my neighborhood, which is very nice for Bucharest, is becoming less safe.

While I was out, my dear husband scrubbed Her Royal Highness's car seat for any last traces of last weekend's unfortunate carsickness adventure. After I returned, he took the car to be washed and vacuumed and got his hair cut. I did a couple loads of laundry and spent a lot of time playing "doctor" with Bee, and had all my toes bandaged. Fortunately, my role as a patient meant that I just had to lie on the couch and by then, I was tired.

Later on we went to the farmer's market and then to the mall and drank Starbucks and then I had the delight of 15 minutes of solo uninterrupted window shopping while Bee and her father sat by the fountain in the atrium. I will admit, I was fingering all those tiny newborn clothes.

Back at home, we had lunch and fought over every slice of the leftover pizza from last night's dinner. Then I fought with Bee about taking her nap, but guess what? I won. She is asleep. My husband is asleep. And right now, I have nothing to do but contemplate the rest of my busy day: make stock for soup, make soup, make bread, go to a party tonight. I love it. I love Saturday.

Romanian countryside

Bringing down the sheep

One of the pleasures of driving through the Romanian countryside this time of year is watching the shepherds bring their flocks of sheep (or goats) down from their high summer pastures. A shepherd's life, while much romanticized in folklore, is lonely and hard. I think they must be glad to be headed home.

Behind the times

I have certainly not lacked things to write about these past few weeks. What I haven't had a lot of, however, is free time. We have had a wonderful full house since mid August, a rotating succession of family and friends, constant entertainment for Miss Bee, long meals at restaurant and over 1,000 miles of travel, all over Romania. No more travel in Romania for us for a long while.

While the house is quiet again, but our lives are anything but. We are having a baby, trying to secure our next job assignment, buying a house. Bee turns three in October and we want to have a Halloween party for her. So much to think about. My mind is honeycombed with: "We need to. . . " "I must remember. . . " What if. . .?"

Despite all the constant buzzing of future plans and contingencies, the months of the year are sneaking past. September is well underway. October is looming. November, I fly home. In December, I'll have another little daughter for Christmas. There couldn't be a sweeter end to the year.

Stealing time

My husband is giving Bee a bath right now. I can hear them splashing. I just finished washing the dinner dishes but gave up before wiping the counters. My feet and my back are in open rebellion against the rest of my body.

I'll get back to work in a minute, but the one thing I have learned from this pregnancy is that if I feel like I need to rest, I better rest. No putting it off until I finish this or that.

So I am stealing some time by myself right now, and am doing my best not to feel guilty. My dear sweet husband has done so much around the house these past few months. Just today the man was mopping the floor, and here I was not sure he knew how, and then I almost had a complete heart attack when I found him scrubbing the shower. So I do feel a little guilty.

Well, time's up. Miss Bee is out of the bath, dressed, and wants a cookie. Back to life.

Sometimes you just gotta--

--Eat Kraft deluxe macaroni and cheese. Preferably with peas and tuna fish. Alone. Where no one will know how much I secretly enjoy American processed food.

--Read really silly, but highly entertaining, mystery novels: (Charlaine Harris's Sookie Stackhouse vampire series. They count as books 41-47, thank you very much!) And now #8 in the series is on the way from amazon.com as well as season one of HBO's True Blood.

--Count your blessings. My amniocentesis results came back yesterday. The baby girl who is swimming laps in my belly is healthy and has a perfect set of chromosomes. I am so thankful.

Books: #38-40

"Winter in Madrid" by C.J. Sansom: A spy novel set in Franco's Spain. I had high hopes. Unfortunately, the plot doesn't move very quickly and the characters aren't very likeable. It's not terrible, though.

"The Help," by Kathryn Stockett: Chronicling the lives of white Southern women and their black maids, the author constructs a believable portrait of the American South on the cusp of the 1960s Civil Rights movement. Very well written and believable.

"The Other Hand", by Chris Cleave: This fast moving novel tells the story of a Nigerian teen and a British magazine executive. Quite unexpectedly, their lives intersect. The back of the book claims, "We don't want to tell you what happens in this book. it is a truly special story and we don't want to spoil it." I have to say, in this particular case, I agree.