Why I Haven’t Been Out There

In 2010 my brain was collecting like crazy. I was doing some university courses, one of them on Thai Language. I was so involved. I remember learning the Thai alphabet in the food court of an old mall with flashcards ( more like flashpaper ) I had printed off, with an ice coffee beside me and crumbs from a jelly donut. It’s amazing the results when your brain is actually turned on. I had a Thai friend who helped me with the pronunciation. I was also running daily and eating only a noodle a day. I felt incredibly healthy ( no kidding eh, a noodle?! ) and young and probably the slimmest I had been since I had been out of highschool.

Fast forward three years and here you have a woman who has forgotten some, if not all of the Thai alphabet and says the wrong word for boy in Thai.

Last night while walking around the village, a Thai man asked if my baby was my brother or sister. ( in english ) I thought he just meant boy or girl so I responded in Thai ‘pee chai’.
‘La?’ he exclaimed, looking at my son. Which is ‘really?’ in Thai.
It was only after he walked away that I realised I had just told him Zeek was my older brother. I meant to say ‘ poo chai’, not ‘pee’. And I also thought, maybe he didn’t realise it was actually MY baby.

Anyways, that got me thinking.
That maybe I refrain from going out and interacting and being social these days for more than just the reason of having a child.
Because I am embarrassed at the lack of Thai I know.
Because my brain has been turned off and I have placed myself outside of all things Thai, that all the Thai I ever did know is mixed up and muddled in my head and so that when someone asks me if my son is my brother or sister and i think they’re asking boy or girl, i respond with ‘ my older brother’..

I know a lot of Thai. I used to know more. And I haven’t been having conversations or really putting my brain into high gear to remember and to listen and to catch certain phrases. I’m letting it all slide by. And this all probably stems to the fact that I know we will be moving in less than two years. My brain is half way in Canada already and it’s like I’ve given up learning anything more about this culture. Which is sad in a way. Sure we won’t ever be living here again, but- it doesn’t hurt to learn for the present.
I doubt I’ll make the come back. I am too focused on the human being I am raising in this world. Which is okay with me. There is just more understanding to the reasoning why I haven’t been out there utilizing my Thai.

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Flurry of Days Leading up to the Largest Order

The day before was a blended mcflurry. Of smarties and m&ms, of reeses 
pieces and fudge. I never tasted any of it but I knew it was spinning. 
I knew The lid was about to come off and the contents were going to 
float.
 
The Monday prior to the big day, I had my first pelvic exam ever. I 
wasn’t grossed out or nervous but it was the first real discomfort 
that I knew would click in with the rest of labour.
 
 She says it twice because I ask her to.
” your 3 cm dilated”.
I wash myself.   i pull my clothes on slowly.
She states that I am in labour. And the words echo off the certified 
walls.
Had I felt any such labour pain or cramping? None.
 
I walked out of their with explosive options. Either wait till 
contractions became worthy of hospitilization or come in the next day 
for the oxytocin. In other words, to have the baby.
I zombied around the halls. I zombied around the home.
The doc had long ago told me that she wasn’t going to induce me if 
there were no signs of labour.  My family and I all thought I would go 
past my due date. Here I was two days till that day and I had already 
been having progressive contractions. Without knowing.
I decided that the more dilated i could get at home, the better. 
Besides, my sister hadn’t arrived yet.
I went home and called my dad in brazil. He said he’d be on the next 
possible plane out.
 
The very next day, the true mcflurry day, I woke up feeling like it was the
last one I’d be pregnant.
Everything in those 24 hours was done or said or looked at 
with the heavy frost of knowledge that I would be a mother the next 
day.   I wasn’t in any pain but I knew The doctor was right and I 
shouldn’t wait too long. I didn’t want the baby gettig bigger anyway.
It was the evening . I called the doctor up with puffs of cloudy 
questions, worried that perhaps baby was getting stressed in there . 
She advised against waiting and said to come in the following day- at 
least to check how far I’d dilated.
With that set in stone,  I began to get frantic.All the things I had 
to do before baby came. The lid on the mcflurry mix flung off and 
pieces went everywhere. I was standing at the bottom of a flight of 
stairs outside, attempting to take the last of the belly photos when i 
broke down. The world felt heavy to my eyes. I felt like a collapsable 
tent myself.  This was me shutting down.
 
But back home, for a good hour I went around the
house wide eyed and in a frenzy that noone could stop.
I was filling up soap containers, organizing my closet,
sweeping the floors and raking the lawn. Things had to feel done.
I laid in bed that night thinking it’d be the last full night of sleep 
for awhile. How right I was. I held my breath as I entered Sleepville 
that night and in the morning, I, along with all those pieces, were 
floating. Were actually floating.