That deafening silence

It seems to happen to most of us, the foreign service bloggers, whether officers or the spouses and partners of officers, at the moment when the chaos and novelty subsides and routine takes over, especially when you calculate in the kid factor. Let's face it, no matter where you live on the planet, dealing with a couple of little monkeys is largely the same drill of diapers and snacks and naps and oh phew they just went to bed but what a mound of dishes and laundry awaits us and so on and so forth, punctuated of course by the delight of seeing them learn to speak and swim and a multitude of other things in their generally hilarious, occasionally mortifying ways. The girls have finally settled into a happy routine with school and are flourishing in English and Spanish, in their relations with teachers and friends, and with all the benefits of what they learn there spilling over into their time at home (wow, both can actually pick up their own toys!). I've won what for me were the most pressing battles with same school, which were ultimately small but significant victories on matters of basic hygiene and safety--the first being get the freaking salmonella spreading turtles out of the babies' rooms as my child has already had parasites twice and we really don't need a round of anything more serious at this point, with the second being stop feeding those same babies popcorn before I send the wrath of the entire American Pediatric Association on choking hazards for children under three their way. No serious issues with Ruby's room for a while, much to their credit. And as for myself, finally slipping into that routine after so much work in the house and in getting the girls settled and dealing with this and that other detail for the first six months here has meant the possibility, or inevitability, of returning to that much loathed but necessarily doable project, the diss. So the fact that I'm not dinking around in blogolandia is a good sign in many ways. In all honesty, I'm also following a bit of motherly advice too, which is that if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all. Because at that very moment when things settle down into some sort of daily normalcy, many of us out there also begin to realize, or perhaps just admit and acknowledge, that the culture surrounding us is, well, rather annoying or insane or simply incomprehensible. Such rhythms have been well documented by those with more experience than myself in globe-trotting every couple of years, and there are more stages to come, much like those of grieving or the cycles through which relationships pass. This moment is the one when the honeymoon ends and reality sets in--more on what that all means when Chapter 4, or at least a passable draft of it, has been sent northward to a patient and hopefully merciful reader.