In Which I Remind Myself Why I Am Doing This

I want to go home. I made a tearful call home this morning to be R to let us come home. I am NOT having a good time.

The Moosh is still suffering from his upper respiratory infection, and I don't know what more to do for him. I am giving him the medicines and his nose just keeps running and running. I am so afraid that he is going to get an ear infection, and we're going to end up having to pay for a doctor's visit out of pocket, and who knows if the treatment will work? The last time he was sick with an ear infection it recurred three times and he was sick for a month.

I have just about had it with the food situation. I am a picky eater. I know this, and I try my best not to impose upon others with my pickiness. That has become all but impossible now, because I have come to the conclusion that I am allergic to the meat (either beef or lamb) that they have here. It makes me sick as a dog. I knew that something was making me sick last year, but never figured it out until now. Unfortunately, that pretty much puts me on a vegetarian diet because don't like fish, nor will I eat chicken on the bone. I was sick all last night because I ate meat twice on Wednesday. I had a bone-crunching headache when I woke up, and it still hasn't gone away entirely. So this morning I told them that I would probably have to restrict my meat-eating to one meal every other day. I think that I can handle that. They can't. This declaration was met with resounding dismay. Guests and eating are two main concepts in the Iranian culture. I am offered sweets, fruit, and tea at all hours of the day. What's for lunch? Well, what does Lisa want to eat? Dinner? Lisa, are you hungry? What can we make for you? I grow weary of all the questioning and dread every meal.

The family's constant concern with my well-being is about to drive me completely insane. They push me to eat, sleep, lie down, get up, change the baby, do this, do that. I am upset. I hate being badgered. When I try to talk about this with R, he thinks that I am impugning his family. I understand that this is part of their culture. It doesn't change the fact that it's annoying as hell. It doesn't change the fact that their meat makes me sick. As we finished our conversation this morning, R begged me to try and have a good time. I am trying. It is not working.

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So at this point you're probably wondering why I am doing this. Why did I give up three weeks of vacation time and spring break with my family to be miserable? The answer is easy: I want my child(ren) to be bilingual.

R already speaks Farsi to the Moosh at home. The most critical time for second language exposure is in the first year of life. The Moosh had daily exposure throughout his first year and four weeks of immersion when we visited last year. With this trip, he will have a total of seven weeks of immersion in the first two years of his life. It's working. He's speaking Farsi right now.

I have to keep telling myself that it is worth it.