I'm afraid of Kenyan driving

I'm 30 years old. I've been driving since I was 16. And driving here scares me.

Bamburi traffic, though it doesn't really look scary when the cars aren't moving.

In Bamburi (Mombasa), I would occasionally drive myself and the boys to church when Rodgers went early. Then we started going to a new church that was farther away and would require too much traffic driving (for me), and I left it up to Rodgers.

Sometimes I would pick Nate up from school. We had chosen his school specifically because it was close enough that we could walk if we had to. This meant that I could also drive there without encountering the scary traffic.

Twice I drove all the way to the main highway to pick Rodgers up when he had taken a matatu to do business in Kilifi. But I am still afraid of driving on that highway down there, much less driving "in town," on the actual island of Mombasa. I'm a chicken. What can I say?

While I had walked to the corner store to buy a loaf of bread or some onions and shopped on my own that way, I had lived here more than a year without being able to drive myself to the grocery store. The great thing about moving to Kilifi is that the traffic here isn't so scary. There aren't so many matatus - or cars for that matter. Most Kilifi traffic is in the form of tuk tuks and boda bodas. I had been planning to drive more once we moved here. I did today. And it was fine!

Rodgers had business in Mombasa this afternoon (funny that when we lived there, he seemed to always have business here, and now it's the other way around). He left us the car, and when Ben woke up from nap, we went to Tuskys before picking Nate up from school. By ourselves! We celebrated with ice cream (what else?).

Now my challenge is getting used to driving on 4WD roads. Maybe I'll tackle Mombasa traffic next year.

nicknames

We used to call Nate so many nicknames. At one of his infant well-checks, the doctor asked us if Nate responded to his own name. He did not. But I also couldn't remember if I had called him by his given name (or given nickname, since Nate is a nickname for Nathanael) a single time in the previous week. The doctor was not concerned at all, but I started trying to make sure I called him "Nate" so that he would at least learn his name. My favorite of his cutesy nicknames was Cute Potato Pie. The only ones I still use (because he insists that those are the only valid ones) are Sweetie and Kiddo. He is often Mr Nate.

Ben has the advantage of being a younger sibling. Besides being called Ben for Benjamin, all of his nicknames started with his big brother. When Ben was a newborn, Nate called him B. Ben would be laying on a blanket on the floor. He loved to watch Nate run around or just look at pictures. Nate would get mad at me for whatever reason and run crying to Ben. He would lay his head on Ben's tummy, and cry, "Nooooooo!!! B!! Noooooo!!!!"

Nate crying to B about how mean I am.

So we have B. And I sometimes call him Sweet B, like sweetpea. Then there are, of course, Mr Poopie Poopie and Mr Froggy Benjamin, which Rodgers often shortens to Froggy B. Mr Poopie Poopie started one day when I was changing Ben's poopie diaper, and Nate said, "Hey Poopie Poopie!" We have no idea where Mr Froggy Benjamin came from, besides Nate's imagination. And that's what makes it awesome!

now I ABC's

The boys ran some errands with Rodgers, and I asked Nate to bring chocolate home to me. He obeyed. I shared.

I may have mentioned before that my boys love playing in the dirt. It's one of their favorite past-times. They have slightly sensitive skin, and certain types of dirt (especially red, African dirt) makes them break out in little rashes on their arms and legs. But they don't care. They would roll in big piles of dirt if the opportunity presented itself.

It's surprising, therefore, that they can't stand to have visible food or dirt on their hands. As taught on the show Sid, the Science Kid, Nate says the alphabet while washing hands, to make sure he has washed long enough.

Ben tries to say the alphabet as well. He doesn't know letters or anything advanced like that, but he makes the sounds for the entire song. He calls it "Now I ABC's," as in "Now I know my ABC's."

Adorably, when Ben's hands are dirty, he doesn't say "dirty" or "wash." He says, "Now I ABC's!"

The Pink One!!!!!

We have several big box stores near us, which is usually where we buy groceries. Most frequently we go to the newest, Naivas. As far as quality and selection goes, I would say Nakumatt is like WalMart, Tuskys is like Kmart, and Naivas is Target. Roughly.

Naivas has a fleet of cozy coupe shopping carts. Some have functioning horns, some have keys that turn (but don't come out), and one has a hot pink trunk. The others have an open cargo space. Nate adores the pink trunk one. He begs for The Pink One. Our rule is that he can have The Pink One if it is at the end of the corral. I'm not going to move 10 carts out of the way trying to the get to The Pink One or stand at the front of the store until someone returns it.

I remind him as we walk up to Naivas.
"What kind of car can you get?"
"One I can reach."
He knows the rules.

Still, when The Pink One is there but out of reach or not there at all, he often throws a fit and ends up walking through the store whimpering. This has happened so many times, and I've had to explain to Naivas employees so many times that he's upset about not getting The Pink One, that they know now.

Today, we got to use The Pink One. As Nate got in, with a big grin, the Naivas employee standing there celebrated with him. Sometimes, when someone returns The Pink One after we've already started shopping, one of the employees will find us in the store to bring it to us.

So here it is, in all its glory. The Pink One.

entitled...

When we run errands, we carry water bottles in the car with us. It's hot and humid, not everywhere we go has a/c, and some of the places with a/c don't set it very cool. We get thirsty.

Sometimes I forget our water bottles, or a quick trip turns into a longer one on a whim, and we don't have enough water. Juice boxes are pretty cheap, and there are usually some in a refrigerator at the big supermarkets. So if we need an extra drink, I let the boys get juice boxes. It doesn't happen often, so we don't think it's really a big deal.

Rodgers is working late today, so he hung out with us this morning. Ben was particularly grumpy, so we decided to get him out of the house, in a hurry. We didn't take the time to fill our water bottles. We got some water at the mall, which we drank quickly, but then decided to head over to Tuskys.

When we were done shopping, but not quite ready to head home yet, we decided to take an extra stroll around the first floor. When we got to the cold section, Nate marched straight up to the drink refrigerator, grabbed a juice box and said, "Do you need some juice, too, Ben?" as if it was a given that they were going to get juice.

I was going to let them have juice today, but didn't expect Nate to get them, unprompted, as if he owns the store. At least he thought of his brother.