Salvation! (kinda)

Hi again-- I realized as I was getting ready for bed last night that I forgot to tell you about something *very* important: my newfound (and admittedly far inferior) Tivo substitute!

People, allow me to introduce you to the esteemed Philips DVDR3570H.  I purchased it thinking that it was merely a DVD recorder, hoping that it would provide me at least a small reprieve in that I might be able to transmit onto a DVD the occasional interesting program as opposed to having to make an actual appointment to sit myself down in front of the tv (a charmingly retro plan that Baby, with her finely tuned sixth sense, would be certain to thwart).  What I failed to notice as I was plopping down the sizable fee of US $300 at the checkout, however, was the far too modestly advertised feature of, "Pause Live TV: lets you take a break without missing a thing."  What does that mean, you ask?  Well let me put it simply: it's a DIGITAL VIDEO RECORDER, baby!  Ya-hoooooooooooooo!

My friend the DVDR3570H automatically DIGITALLY records onto its hard drive the past 6 hours of whatever channel you have been watching... meaning that you can pause it, come back to it hours later, or move forward or backward in the 6-hour time block (what DVDR3570H affectionately likes to refer to as, "time shifting").  What it also means is that I WILL NEVER BE SUBJECTED TO ANOTHER COMMERCIAL AGAIN.  Good lord, in no way will I miss the past three months of having my television shows interrupted so that I could be told, often in a foreign language, all about the upcoming specials being broadcast on OTHER CHANNELS (not sure I even understand that logic).  Nay, now I can once again PAUSE so I can tend to a crying child without missing out on Simon's scathing review; REWIND so my kids can find out how the grayed-out "Mystery Mouseketools" were already used; and FAST FORWARD through boring award show acceptance speeches!  MY POWERS HAVE BEEN RESTORED!!

(Note: It's not *all* rose petals and symphonies with the DVDR3570H.  Bitch can't even figure out how to change the channel on my cable box by itself, meaning that I have to make sure that the tv has been left on the channel with the desired upcoming recording. But that is one HECK of a small price to pay when the reward is the return of my sanity. TELEVISION, I AM BACK, JUST AS I PROMISED!  I MISSED YOU!  Now if you could please just consider airing something that I would actually WANT to digitally record....)

In other news, while I have you, here are some more updates that I inadvertently left out of my last post:

BABY - Broke through the First Tooth sound barrier with such force (and urgency! the other girls were a full month older when their first teeth arrived) that she is already well on the road to Tooth #2.  And 9-month birthday is still a week away.  Has also graduated from Cheetos to chicken nuggets, fried fish sticks, and chocolate chip cookies.  (What, is that bad?) Has been caught, on tape, squealing both "mama" and "dada" sounds.

SCREAMER - Has officially become The Kid Who Climbs Out of Her Crib When She Doesn't Want to Sleep.  This is not a happy development (though I must say I'm proud of her for learning how to do it without a single injury).  When I asked her this morning how she accomplishes such a feat, she explained, "I put my leg over the top, and cry, and cry..." We are left to assume that she is then elevated up and out of the crib on an ocean of teardrops.  Now the question is: do we (a) ignore it and hope that the novelty wears off; (b) accept defeat and move her to a bed earlier than planned; or (c) trap her like the weasel she is with one of those crib-top tents?  (Which, you can be assured, are not available here, meaning I'd have to order one from the US... aargh.)

SUSHI - Seems to be stuck in some kind of purgatory betwixt baby and child.  Alternates between staggering insight and maturity (she practically knocked over Screamer's nursery school teacher the other day when she spotted the lady helping Screamer climb the stairs; Sushi grabbed the teacher's shirt and breathlessly exclaimed, "Please do not do that!-- my sister has dislocated that elbow twice!-- and you really need to be careful with that arm!") and shockingly infantile temper tantrums over the *most* ridiculous things (i.e., getting a cookie with a crack in it).  Can turn on you in an instant.  PopPop appropriately calls her "Eve." 

DADDY - Is in desperate need of an assistant.  Has been working until closer and closer to midnight each day.  Often leaves the house in a suit and tie, in stark contrast to the t-shirt and shorts uniform strictly adhered to by the remainder of this family unit.  But is having great early success here, hooray.  And *loves* his new car/armored vehicle.  On Saturday is picking up his first custom-made suit!-- a sure sign that the man has ARRIVED.

POPPOP - At my incessant nagging that he make a concerted effort to make friends here, has stumbled onto a couple of social networking sites based out of Dubai.  Posted a profile picture of himself shirtless, dripping wet at the water park, with what appears to be a chiseled six-pack of abs.  Wonders why he is receiving a barrage of emails from interested women in the 28 TO 30 YEAR OLD AGE RANGE, all of whose profiles indicate that they are looking for "Love or Serious Relationship."  One of his most aggressive suitors refers to herself only by the handle, "Virgin Michelle."  I told him that his appeal to the original 90210 demographic might have *something* to do with the fact that, in his online profile, he has shaved SEVENTEEN YEARS OFF HIS ACTUAL AGE.  Which would make me 10 years old.  He seemed unconvinced that this could be a problem, however, and padded back up the two flights of stairs to check his inbox.

HARRY - Has managed to scratch something on his neck until it bled.  Looks rather nasty. I considered taking him to a vet to have it checked out, but then I contemplated the nightmarish logistics involved (putting shoes on, walking to the car, following driving directions, parking the car, getting out of the car, etc., etc., etc.) and decided that he'll be fine.  He's a fighter, that Harry.

ALICE - Revealed to me yesterday that she is one of TWELVE children in her family; she has SEVEN sisters (one of whom *must* be looking for a second-position housemaid job; can we start cycling them through for interviews or what??).  Was raised on a farm, doing work in the field in order to help pay for her education (this explains her enormous biceps, which I believe are, at least in part, what inspire PopPop to hit the gym every single day).  Mentioned that she wants to have a third child; said she needs to have a girl, "otherwise there will be no one to clean the house."  Does that strike anyone else as funny, coming from a housemaid?  I replied excitedly, "Yes, you should definitely have another child!" and then added quietly, "just not on my watch." Note to self: No visits home to the Philippines for Alice.

Z-MAN - Is so sweet: while out shopping with Daddy last week, asked for permission to make a quick stop at the wig store (he is balding at the back of his head).  Might also have a little bit of a mischievous side, as tattled on by Alice (the two of them have this hilarious competitive sibling dynamic going on, wherein each lovingly tries to make the other look bad in front of Daddy and me: she condescendingly refers to him as "the driver" and he condescendingly refers to her as "the maid"); she told me that she knows where he hangs out on his day off, and that there is "drinking going on there!"  She then sweetly asked me, dripping with faux ignorance, "And isn't he supposed to be a Muslimmmm?"  (He, in turn, never passes up the opportunity to suggest to Daddy that Alice should absolutely *not* be allowed to sleep over at her cousin's house on her night off, suggesting that a maid's rightful place is at her sponsor's house!)

MOMMY - Drove to the mall-- alone-- yesterday, and did not get lost.  The sun was shining and the car windows were down and the radio was blaring.  Maybe it was the Starbucks coffee I'd just gulped down, maybe it was the unusually long stretch of sleep I'd gotten the night before (6 straight hours!), but I caught myself feeling really, really good.  For the first time in a really, really long while.  Hey, Dubai's not so bad after all.

Miss you.  Talk soon.