What Comes of Not Knowing About Jackets

Today Tehva showed us why we need to go back to America, if only for a little while. Today we discovered that Tehva does not know how to put on a jacket.

The girl can read like a demon, swim with the fishes, and walk barefoot for miles, even on 120 degree plus plus plus days. But she cannot get a jacket on without the sleeves of her sweater riding up to her armpits.

Tian was startled at this revelation. “Mom! What is wrong with Tehva? Why doesn’t she know how to put on a jacket?”

Duh, live in the Middle East much?

She can't put on a jacket, but she knows her stuff
when it comes to mummifying chickens

Every summer for the past four years we have gone to the USA, and each summer, the kids are released upon American society. Short of the fiery religious debates in which Tian has engaged her Sunday school teacher, and the Hitler-esque manner in which Tehva has bullied and bossed the neighborhood kids there, they have generally done well.

She's fine...just fine...keep saying it...

Okay, so Silas’s continuing inability to tie shoelaces? And Tian’s inability to speak to an authority figure without pointing out every single error in logic or technique? Both are probably related to the homeschooling and the mamsy-pamsy way in which I deal with them on a daily basis. And who needs to wear closed-toed shoes in the desert anyhow? But generally I feel that they will effortlessly merge back into mainstream America without a hiccup when we return to ‘Merica. Or at least I hope.

Each year I have left the USA to return to Oman thinking that my kids are fine…that they will be fine upon the imminent return, because when you are ex-patting it, this is always somewhere within your thoughts. It sometimes even surfaces to dominate your thoughts for short spurts. But in the day-to-day of living and learning here, it is also easy to bury this thought, especially as the time away becomes more prolonged.

Yes, and he is also fine despite appearances

Life here moves quickly (thus no blog post in, like, a million years) and we are left with little time for reflection on such questions as, “Will my kid be a freak when we go back home?” Additionally, the answer is "Yes for a little while" and so no one wants to discuss it much.

The generally harmless peer group--or at least two of them

In spite of the freak factor, it has been a relief to let the grip of the home society melt away. For four years, I have not had to worry about my kids’ clothing or style choices, the contents of their lunch boxes, their test scores in relation to their classmates’ test scores or anyone else's, their peers (I know them all too well), their safety within an institutional setting, or the quality of the material that is theoretically making its way into their little heads. I have not had to worry about supplementing activities or boosting instructional time. And I have certainly not have had to worry about the implications of Silas not knowing how to tie his shoes, or Tian angering the wrong instructor.

I highly recommend it, y’all.

But in other ways, this squirming away from the grip of American society has left me, actually all of us, on the outs. I no longer know what is cool and what is not. I have no idea anymore about what my children should be able to do according to the Standards or the Common Core. I don’t know what has come of the FDA’s strangle hold on school lunch programs. I don’t know whether Tian’s constant use of the word, “Mank” to 

Totally mank. Totally.

describe unpleasantries is totally weird or totally in in the USA.

In the four years here, they have gone from being children who fit a certain mold—the one dictated by society and by me so that they would be more apt to conform to society’s wishes—to being something of culture-less individuals. And while there are certainly rules that must be followed in Oman (What do you mean I can’t wear my favorite sleeveless top now that I have boobs?) as everywhere else, in many ways we have been beyond the reach of those rules.

But that is all coming to an end. The countdown has begun.