The food (in stores) is more expensive and in much smaller packages than it was when we left, but the (majority) of people (in stores) are still getting larger. Hm.
I love the way Owen says, "Foo's" for "Who's"
When Owen was a baby he used to purse his lips together and blow a raspberry whenever he got hurt. Now, he calmly says, "hurt, Hurt, HURT, HURRRRT" in a progressively louder voice until it reflects the amount of pain he's in. He rarely cries, unless he's been embarrassed or is really, really hurt.
I miss not having to worry about ingredients in food.
In Tanzania most of the packaged foods we buy (which isn't much) are exported from Europe, which has much higher food standards. I still read labels, but they aren't half as bad as all the CRAP America seems to think is OK to put in food. Even organic and 'healthy' food here is Crazy - one brand of well-known 'healthy' cereal, 28GRAMS of sugar per serving. Doh. #fail
Speaking of sugar. There's a lot of it here. Seemingly hidden in places you wouldn't think, or at least, I wouldn't think maybe because I've been gone so long. We noticed after about two weeks O was getting more defiant, and generally just being a stinker. Whiney and attitude-y. We've since cut out cereal (with almond milk) from his breakfast diet, substituting for what we'd eat at home, like eggs and toast or pancakes and have seen a marked improvement.
When O is trying to ask if you're laughing or why you're laughing he says, "Are you funny-ing?" or "What are you funny-ing for." I can't correct him. It's just. TOO. Cute.
Even though we've been here a month I still reach for the windshield wipers instead of the blinker, though I've gotten to the point I don't actually flick it on before I realize what I'm doing.
Also. I may-or-may-not-have driven on the opposite side of the road on Thursday. Don't worry, it wasn't a busy road and I quickly corrected. Oops. I then found myself wishing we could get home already so I could just drive on the right side of the road. (it appears I've been converted, my UK friends would be proud) :)
The other day we were outside and a big gust of wind blew a bunch of stuff at us and O shouts, "Wow! Its wind-ing!"
My child has a sixth sense. No. He doesn't see dead people. But he surely does know whenever momma or papa leave the premises. The garage door can open and close with gramma leaving and he doesn't bat an eye, but as soon as we try to it's as if an alarm has gone off and he's wide awake asking for us.
Meat, meat everywhere. We're used to a very limited meat diet and it seems like every dinner we eat has meat in it. It's taking my body on a ride, that's for sure, and I think I'll be putting an end to all this meat eating soon, or at least curb it extremely. One of the chicken breasts we used the other night was almost the size of my head. Okay, maybe not, but it was close. That chicken either had a serious boob job or was stockin' up on the hormones. Or I'm just used to the teeny tiny chickens in Tanzania.
I've accidentally spoken in Swahili to several people, who, in turn, look at me like a crazy person. Pole (pole-AY) just sounds funny when someone runs into a display with a dolly full of product. Similarly, while in a Goodwill the other day I told Owen, "Njo hapa" (come here) and the look the lady in the daisy dukes and tight tank top gave me was enough to commit me to a home. I sometimes get frustrated at home when I can't communicate what I want to, but I so miss the language and being able to speak it more. I find I get the most gratification for this need through speaking it with my family and commenting on FB posts of other Tanzania friends :)
It appears living in Tanzania has also made me a coffee snob. I only truly enjoy Tanzanian coffee. Don't get me wrong, I can down a caramel frappe any day of the week, but if it's just coffee - it's gotta be Tanzanian.
I also was not aware I would need to pack a hoodie to come to America in the summer. Specifically Phoenix. I freeze whenever I am in any building, including the house we're staying in. I am thankful for air conditioning, but holy cow is it cold. When I walk out of a grocery store into the warm, welcoming sun, it literally feels as if I'm de-thawing and the ice is falling off my fingertips and toes as I walk to the car.