The Family Dispatcher

Now that I'm back from Indonesia, I miss myself.  OK, that probably sounds a little strange.  Let me explain.  What I really miss are my posts on the family "doings" from overseas.  I can no longer be the eyes and ears for our extended family scattered about. I'm only able to report on what is happening here at home.  Not many of the relatives are waiting with bated breath to hear about that.  No one is sitting by their computer hoping to see a new picture pop up of me.  Let's be honest here.  They're all wanting to see what's happening with the kids and the grandchild.

When I was in Indonesia, I had the luxury of time and plenty of opportunity to snap pictures of our little granddaughter AND all the interesting sights in the areas where our grown kids were living.  I knew that the relatives back home were hungering to hear what was going on and to see pictures of them, especially little Mika and I really tried to blog frequently (ok, every day) so that they'd feel "in the loop." 

Now that I'm home, we are back to the status quo.  We get a Skype call usually once a week and we check Facebook daily to see if any of them have posted ANY comment to anyone just so we can feel like we've made contact.  We might get several short emails a week.  Pictures are scarce.  Our overseas kids are super busy with language training and a demanding toddler.  They use a sluggish Internet when they can.  I get it. 

It's plain to me that what we need here is a clone of myself.  We could call it the "Family Dispatcher."  We could ship the cloned me along with a computer with wireless connectivity wherever in the world our extended family members are and set me loose, whereupon I'd immediately begin firing off dispatches from the field. 

Of course, there would be a few other specifications that the cloned me would require.  The "Family Dispatcher" would need to be impervious to bug bites, dysentery, diarrhea, and food poisoning.   It would need to require little sleep but still be able to remain keenly observant and be flexible enough to use a squatty potty while having the ability to retain some semblance of dignity.

If all of this seems like too tall an order, than only one thing remains to be done.  I'll just have to join the rest of the relatives and beg for some news, then pray for the day when I can once again see firsthand what is happening with the kids.