Papua Girl........... in Dallas

Before I'm 35 Bucket List

2012-02-01T23:09:00.001-06:00

You know, I'm not one for making a dramatic bucket list. I'm not particularly ambitious or competitive. I rarely make goals for the year because I figure... why put so much pressure on a year? Things happen over time. Different things at different times. And I've been given so many chances to do amazing things because I grew up overseas.

However, it struck me the other day while reading a friends blog that this stage of life will fly by. It's a stage where we're working, parenting, moving, and just busy. And so if there are things that I do want to achieve or experience in this stage, I should be intentional about it or I'll lose the chance.

With that in mind, this is my first draft of my:

Before I'm 35 Bucket List

- Road trip the Southeast of the US. Never been to most of it, and since we live down in the area, it is time!
- Become an experienced bread maker. Right now I can make it, but it intimidates me so much that I never do. There is nothing like the smell of bread baking.
~~- Have a kid~~
- Start my graduate counseling degree (or something in a very related field).
- Attend a mainstream concert by an artist I love.
- Visit Europe (Germany, Italy, Switzerland, Spain - any will do, but one of the above must be included)
- Attempt to pick up drawing again. If this fails, give it up completely for good.
- Create a detailed family tree while the grandparents are still alive to give input.
- Acquire sewing machine. Actually use said sewing machine
~~- Do something dramatic with my hair~~
- Learn to cook a really good roast.
- Teach my children to read and then institute family reading time in the classics.
- Have a high school reunion in some way, shape, or form, somewhere in the world.
- Spend a weekend with Isaac back at the beautiful bed and breakfast where we spent half our honeymoon.
- Discover a short list of (real) drinks I know I love.

I've been sitting on this, thinking of everything I could add, so it's time to just hit publish and edit as time goes on!

Having a sick kid is like being in a mystery that slowly kills you

2012-01-30T07:19:00.000-06:00

Judah wasn't sick until after he turned a year old.

Before that he'd have times when I though he might be sick, but really it was all guessing and in the end I think he was just having moments when he was tired or worn out or teething.

The teething thing will kill you, it's just ridiculous. He may have a tooth pop out and we're just shocked because we had no idea it was coming. Or he might have a week of being practically inconsolable, high temps, laying lethargically in momma's lap not willing to do anything or eat anything.... and then a tooth pops out and I'm incredibly glad that he wasn't fighting some mysterious disease.

Like say... right now. Yesterday he was grouchy and last night he woke up angry at 11:30, 5:30, and 6:00. At six I got him up and he was again inconsolable. He has no other symptoms. Could be he's just grouchy. Could be he's teething. Could be he's got an ear infection because those also can have no other symptoms and I did notice him pulling on his ear once every day. See? Mystery. Fun fun. I never know when to take him to the doctor and when to ride it out.

At Christmas we were trying to ride it out. Seemed like a cold because he actually had the sinus and coughing thing going on, so we figured we'd let him ride it out especially since we were out of town and it was the holidays. Whoops. He just got sicker and sicker and when we finally did take him to the doctor he seemed to have the flu and an ear infection, and he was in bad shape. Wish I'd taken him earlier!

I did learn some things, though. For instance, for a puking child who will not keep things down, do not keep trying to feed the child. Yes, they do need to get something down them, but their little stomach is so weak it can't handle anything. My doctor friend told me to go with 24 hours of liquid only. Everyone on facebook advised Pedialyte, but we didn't have any at home and were all sick and didn't want to venture far from bed. I did some Internet research and made my own. A liter of water, a packet of koolaid or a couple tablespoons of sugar, a teaspoon of salt, and a 1/2 t of baking soda. It's missing the potassium that's in most pedialyte, but Judah sucked it down. He was obviously desperate for it. A liter and a half and a day later, he was ready for solids again and wouldn't touch the pedialyte solution.

At this point your kid needs 24 more hours on the BRAT diet. Bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast. All things that are simple and easy for a baby stomach to break down. Same diet you should be on if you've been puking for days too, actually. In any case, after a day of thing you can try other foods, but it worked like a charm on Judah.

I have my fingers crossed that when Judah wakes up again he'll be happy and we don't have another ear infection on our hands!

when we wake you up at midnight

2012-01-27T00:41:00.003-06:00

Blue-eyed little man,
Last night you woke up when we went to bed late, and after you finished a bottle you stood expectantly peering over the side of your pack-n-play at us, paci and big eyes effectively wooing your daddy until he picked you up and brought you to sit between us for some midnight family bonding.

You are adorable, your little chin resting on your hand and watching us tease and entertain you. We pull the sheets up so that we are under a tent, all of us, and you giggle with delight and show off your little rabbit two front teeth.

I stroke your soft cheeks and you rest against me, secure. In the morning when you're up before I leave for work, you cling to my legs even when we're playing, aware of the day's rhythm that means I will leave soon. That makes me ache, son, because while I love my job I don't want to leave you.

It's with delight that I hurry up the stairs at the end of the day, knowing that when I put my key in the door you will toddle towards it as fast as your little legs can carry you because you know it's me. I drop my bags and you fling away whatever is in your hands. I meet your breathless expectation and squeeze you tight, and you hardly know what to do once you have me. You always look back at your dad with a massive smile as if to say, "Dad, look who I found, did you see, did you see?!" You've even learned to give little kisses, which you tenderly plant and then avoid our gazes like you're embarrassed.

I love you, my little man. You are growing and exploring and I love that, but most of all I love it that you are most focused on your dad and I. You want to be with us, running away while we growl and chase you around corners, sitting with me on the bathroom counter top playing with toothbrushes while I put on my makeup, snitching pieces of our meals while we eat, taking the toys out of the box when we try to put them away, and together dancing badly to any given song. We are knit together, you and I and your dad. You are ours, our son. We are yours, your mom and dad.

Collapsing Two Blogs Into One?

2012-01-21T10:37:00.002-06:00

Back when I was bored and hardly knew anyone in Dallas and didn't have a car or a baby, I ran three blogs.

Yes, I was very bored.

I shut down one that was that fully dedicated to movies, books, music, etc. I still run this Papua Girl blog about life and another one called The Well Thought-Out Life where I wrestle with things like theology, politics, you know, things that can inspire debate. When I set it up I knew the friends that wanted my daily thoughts did not really want to read my thoughts on McCain, Obama, Eastern Orthodoxy, or life beginning at implantation.

I'm considering collapsing them into one. Back when I was bored and posting all the time, they were really two very different things. But nowadays I don't have time to compartmentalize what I write about. I don't post as much daily random thoughts (hello twitter). I want to write about my daily life and the things I'm grappling with - and just keep it all together, easy to sort and access.

So - I'm considering pulling my other blog into this one.

Or perhaps I should collapse this into The Well Thought-Out Life, because that name has more staying power, whereas I will not be the Papua Girl in Dallas for very much longer.

Thoughts? Advice from people that have changed blogs before?

It (was) Christmas time in the city....

2012-01-17T22:11:00.001-06:00

We were super excited about Christmas. It was going to be in Chicago, our favorite city, and we've never spent Christmas there.

We were going to be with Isaac's family. We were going to meet a brand new cousin of Judah's that was born on his one-year birthday. We were going to meet another cousin, four days younger than Judah, that he'd never met before. And we were going to be together for Christmas, the first time in two years that the family has been together.

All in all, lots of excitement. I raced home from work on the afternoon we were leaving, helped grab all our bags, and fastened Judah in his car seat. We were pretty worried about how he'd handle a two-day road trip, especially after Isaac told me he'd slept a lot that day. I was just picturing him being up and ready to play and thus frustrated the entire evening drive.

Not so much. Judah slept that whole drive too. And then when I got him out of the car at 1am to go in to our hotel room, he was burning up with fever. Crap. Judah had been through teething the whole month and a half before that, but he'd never been truly sick. That night he was up and down and miserable. I was hoping it was a cold and it would pass, and we decided to count the silver lining and be thankful for the fact that he slept most of the next day on the road too.

That first night in Chicago Judah was coughing and grumpy, but he was still up walking around. Every day after that he got sicker and sicker. Much of Christmas was spent like this:

He actually would get up, walk a few steps, and then lay down on the ground.
Poor kiddo! It got pretty bad, more on that in another post on what I've learned about taking care of a sick kid! This was Judah on Christmas a year ago, so the Christmas track record isn't looking good!

I was pretty sad about that, because we so wanted to have him get to know his grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousin, and they him. Especially when we never get to see each other.

But, what are you going to do? There were a few moments when the little cousins played together, and it was fun to see. They are the same height but different proportions.

Judah would smile at Dempsy, Dempsy would come to play and reach for Judah's face, Judah would shake his head and gasp in an attempt to get away from the fingers in his face, and then the cycle would repeat all over again.

And there was a hilarious moment on Christmas day when Mom and Dad directed a little Christmas play complete with costumes. It was so comical because Judah was the star above the stable..... and he was not exactly very shiny. More like.... miserable.

Isaac filled in the sentiment with a growly smoker's voice.... "Twinkle, twinkle."

And then Dempsy was in hilarious donkey...uhh... camel costume, which confused him to no end.

And the baby in the manger was too busy nursing to come out and act the part. In the end, the kiddos were entirely out of it, and us adults were in fits of laughter.

It was good, most of all, to be with family.

We spent hours talking about these cards (highly recommended for table conversations with friends or married family members). We lounged around and soooo appreciated Alysa and Jack letting us stay at their house while they were gone. We ate at Panang, a college favorite (where the daughter of the owner that I remember coloring at a corner table was now MY SERVER and I felt old). We walked on Michigan Ave and Clark street and enjoyed the gorgeous Christmas lights . We slightly less enjoyed the freezing weather and packed Zoo Lights display at the Lincoln Park Zoo.

And the Grandkids just loved their Grandparents. You can tell.

I love that picture. LOVE it. Love Dempsy's glare. Getting a decent shot of three babies was a comedy of errors.

I think my lesson learned over the past few months is that I just have to let go of my expectations for my son interacting with family. Whatever happens happens, and I'll be thankful for what I get!

When children realize adults are more than just their parents

2012-01-16T06:00:00.000-06:00

I just finished Twenty Chickens for a Saddle by Robyn Scott.

It's a great memoir of a really unusual childhood in an unusual family in Botswana. Turns out the girl is just a year older than me. Her parents were hipsters before hipsters even existed. They were all about unschooling, vegetarian/real food, and natural health remedies. All of that in the middle of Botswana, where the kids roamed among the snakes and crocodiles. The stories are hilarious, and all of it unfolds as the AIDs virus takes over Africa, deeply affecting the practice of the father of the family, who is a doctor. I keenly related to the cross-cultural childhood, the quirky family, and rootlessness of a third-culture kid.

I almost cried when I finished the book last night, because as Robyn describes what has happened to the family since those days in Botswana, she mentions that her parents split up just after all the kids had left the house for college. Despite the fact that they remain friends and the family is still semi-intact because of it, I found myself mourning over it.

It brought to mind this post by Gypsy Mama, in which she ponders the strange differences in being a mother and being a child in how well you know each other. She lost her mom as a teen and now she's raising her own infant daughter, and her thoughts are profound.

Eighteen is a lifetime for me and a smudge for her. Blurry moments of being mothered, being told no, feeling herself stretch against and away from me.
She will have hardly drawn the breath of living memory by eighteen.
I will have lived a hundred lifetimes of love for her by then.
Eighteen is too short to know a mother.
Eighteen is the deep well of knowing a daughter.

That's what struck me after finishing the book. In the book I saw 15 years through the eyes of a child, in which the parents play a central role but are known not so much as individuals but as a part of the circle of the family. Coming to adulthood and discovering that your parents have seen it all from a different perspective, from an adult world in which the marital relationship needs more than the family circle to sustain it. It's a betrayal to a child, who has only ever known the parents together, and yet the parents may have in reality hardly been truly together at all in all those years.

It's strange, the difference in perspective of a child and parent. If we were to lose Judah, the imprint of his 13 months on our life would be immense. Gypsy Mama is right, I know all of him. I have memorized him. And yet if he were to lose us at the same stage, he wouldn't even remember us. Even in a few years, when his memory is stronger, he will know our family as his home and his world, but he will hardly know us as individuals until he himself is an adult.

What are the implications of that for our life? Understanding that the mothering stage is just one stage of my life makes me both willing to put my career on hold and also determined to keep in mind that I have a responsibility to other vocations after mothering begins to wane. I want my children to be given their parent's full love and attention, but I also want them to have parents who have a strong sense of self outside of the children so that they don't change entirely after the children are gone. It reminds me again of the importance of nurturing a marriage outside of the context of a family, because when the children are gone there must be a relationship left instead of two people who barely know each other outside of parenting.

Ruminations on the Republican Primaries

2012-01-14T11:23:00.003-06:00

I'm not one of those bloggers that has vowed not to talk politics this year. I shall talk politics all I want. It will, however, probably be a lot less than last election cycle!

I've been watching the Republican primaries with interest and incredulity. I don't know what I think of everyone, but I know a few things.

- I highly dislike Rick Perry and will not vote for him. When he was rising in the polls I was absolutely aghast. I'm relieved he currently seems to be forgotten.

- It says so much to me that in the current state of the party, Republicans were willing to consider the like of Herman Cain and Newt Gingrich while Hunstman is the ONLY candidate that has never been close to the top of the heap, despite the fact that he is the most experienced in foreign policy issues, which is arguably the President's biggest job. When Huntsman announced he was running I got excited, and I'm just in shock that the public seems to have considered everyone but him. What does this say about how we pick our candidates?

- I like Ron Paul. I really like him. I have more respect for him than for anyone. He's consistent, straight forward, logical, and experienced. There isn't a candidate more appealing to me. BUT.... I absolutely disagree with him on foreign policy. Stink. If he happens to finally gain traction, I will be fascinated.

- I really don't mind Romney. However, I don't think I would vote for him. This probably further proves that he is a) too liberal for most Republicans and b) not interesting enough to beat Obama.

I'm afraid of going "home"

2012-01-12T08:00:00.000-06:00

Isaac and I are taking little baby steps towards moving overseas and doing what we've always planned - for Isaac to teach (formally) and me to counsel (informally).

In a twist that is in some ways super surprising and in other ways not at all, it's possible that we'll end up on the island of Papua in Indonesia, which is where I grew up.

Dang. If I let my emotions run free I could tell you just how excited that makes me. I'll actually speak Indonesian and my husband will too, and possibly even my kids will grow up speaking it? The place that I fiercely call my home despite having so little actual right to it could actually BE home again? I could go to the mountains and beaches and smell the flowers and eat soto ayam and participate in the local church and be a part of raising up leaders in the Papuan community?

Seriously. That barely scratches the surface, because underneath are just all the emotion that I can't get into words of how much I love Papua.

But on the other hand.....

There are a lot of fears too. I know that growing up in a paradise of jungle and beaches was a dream as a kid, but it's a heck of a lot more difficult as an adult. It means shopping at little grocery stores to find a few familiar things imported from the West and making most things from scratch, which takes twice as long. It means living in tropic heat that saps your energy (though the town we would live in would be cooler than the town I grew up in, for which I am deeeeeeeply grateful). It means being far from sophisticated medical help, so what if my baby gets sick? That's a BIG what if?

It means being far from people of my own culture. This is a strange one, because I feel far from my own culture here in Dallas too. The only people that I truly think I share a culture with are other kids that grew up between cultures (tcks). Still, though, there will be more cultural isolation in the city we'll live in in Papua. There are few other Westerners there. I want it that way because I don't want to get sucked into a little Western bubble that keeps me busy and away from building relationships with my neighbors, the Papuans. Still, the process of becoming so acculturated that I can build real lasting relationships with my neighbors means years of isolation. I know from moving to Dallas that years of isolation are difficult for me - I thrive on intimacy and familiarity. How lonely will I be in Papua?

I will be far away from family, just as my family seems to be consolidating in Colorado. This is much harder now that I have a child. I know what it was like to grow up far away from extended family, and I desperately want my son to know his grandparents and uncles and aunts. To be far away will be very hard.

It is scary to bring my husband to a place I call home. I grew up there. There are a lot of little things about the culture that are quixotic that are so contrary to a Western mindset, and it just makes me laugh. Now, though, I'd be bringing in a husband who grew up in Britain, arguably even more structured than the USA. For him, culture shock will be huge, and he will be angry and disgusted by many things as he adjusts to life there. I'll feel defensive, I'll think he's being a ridiculously picky Westerner, and I'll want him to lighten up. Isaac will want me to just listen and sympathize with how different and frustrating things are. This is all not really an "if", it's a "when"! We know this will happen.

I fear myself, too. What about when I get "home" and I don't feel at home? That will happen, too. I'm afraid of my own love for this place, afraid it will betray me and I'll be left feeling even more rootless.

So yeah, it's scary and I think it's important to identify those fears in the midst of the excitement. We're on a journey. Life is unpredictable. Who knows what will happen or where we'll end up?

Blue Valentine and Transferring Your Own Anger to Your Marriage

2012-01-09T21:30:00.000-06:00

A couple of weeks ago I watched Blue Valentine. It's one of those movies I wouldn't ever subject Isaac to - sappy, sad, melancholy. It is one of those movies that I love watching and sort of feel guilty for loving because who loves movies that are so depressing?

I loved it like I loved the old Robert Redford movie The Way We Were and the Michelle Pfieffer and Bruce Willis movie The Story of Us. All of them wrestle honestly and realistically with marriage. All of them show the beauty and the deep struggle of keeping souls knit together. Brett McCracken (a fantastic film critic) reviewed the movie and I wanted to quote a few things from him about the movie:

They fall in love, for good reasons… As anyone does. And the struggles they eventually face are familiar, not unique to them. Do they make all the right choices? No. Do they give up too easily on their marriage? Perhaps. I think it’s clear that Blue Valentine doesn’t view its characters or their choices as perfect or prescriptive. We’re not meant to absolve these characters of their conduct, but neither are we meant to judge. It’s not a morality tale. What it is is an observation of two people trying to live out a real romance in a world that serves up fictional narratives of love at every turn.... It’s a world of dissonance between the romanticized love-as-escapism on one hand and the lived reality (divorced parents, rampant infidelity, porn) of love-as-disappointment on the other...

Insofar as I can see, all it aspires to be is a film about two particular modern-day American youths who, in the way they talk and flirt and think through love and romance, represent a broader swath of modern-day American youth. And to that it succeeds unquestionably...In Blue Valentine, amidst ubiquitous American flags, meatloaf, fireworks and city skylines, they lend a potent realism to the melodrama of the classic American love story, subverting it even while they salute it, joyful and mournful in equal measure.

Yeah, it was beautiful and real and sad. I was personally sobered. Michelle William's character is real - a teenager with great potential stuck in a small town with dysfunctional parents. She's depressed, she's longing to leave, and then she gets knocked up and is wooed and won by a sweet and quirky guy who decides he's going to take care of her and the baby. I love Ryan Gosling's character. He's sweet, committed, playful, and simple. He doesn't aspire to much but he is exceptional in his passionate defense of his family and his determination to enjoy life. And yet as time goes by Michelle sees him as a hick who isn't making anything of himself, drinks a lot, and comes to symbolize all that is trapping her in the life she wishes she could leave.

It seems to me that their marriage was fine. It was hitting the reality of the grind of daily life, but the marriage itself wasn't the problem. Michelle William's character was so stiff and clearly internally angry for some good reasons. Those reasons, though, didn't include her husband. It was her past, her life, her personal struggles to find where she fit, who she was, etc. She transferred her anger and resentment to her relationship with her husband, who in reality roots for her, is committed to her, and is a decent guy. I think she ruins the relationship because of her own baggage. In an attempt to escape her life she runs away from the best thing she has.

It sobered me because I could see myself doing the same thing. I can imagine myself one day struggling with life and sadness or anger or whatever and transferring that emotional struggle to my marriage. I could blame my own internal withdrawal on marital struggles, denying that it's me who needs to change and heal.

May it never be. On our road trip to Chicago I described the movie and my diagnosis of the real problem portrayed in it to Isaac. I told him I never wanted to blame my own personal struggles on our marriage. Marriage is too precious for that. He told me I should write it down so I don't forget it.

So I did.

Dear Peanut - You Turned One (a month ago)

2012-01-06T08:00:00.000-06:00

Dear Peanut (otherwise known as Judah, Buddha, Sugar, and Monster),

Yes, momma is a whole month behind at posting about the milestone that is your one-year birthday. We also didn't have a party (mom's American acculturation fail!). However, we DID take you to a party.

Your birthday was on the same night as my work Christmas party (in my busiest work week of the year). We thought about skipping it to celebrate at home, but instead we dressed you up and brought you along, planning to slip out early.

You absolutely loved it. In a big hall filled with people, you toddled your way around the tables and chairs as if you were on a mission. You smiled and giggled at the lights and the people clapping to Christmas songs, and you tried to get on stage and join the band. You and momma even joined a conga line (because evangelicals don't know how to really dance, but they CAN do a conga line).

And then we whisked you home, where you partook in the sacred family ritual on your mom's side, which is trying ice cream for the first time on your first birthday. You took a chunk of ice cream in your fist and tried to eat it with a worried look on your face because of the cold until it melted into your lap and you took a good look at your chocolate cake.

Actually, molten chocolate cake. A sample of the molten part was followed by another sample, followed by another sample, which was followed by a systematic destruction and consumption of said cake.

Washed down by a cup of milk:

followed by a sugar high:

Your favorite present was an awesome looking keyboard (from Aldi's, don't tell anyone!), and you were delighted by the music (and maybe still also on a sugar high).

We are hoping you are past the worst of the falling over stage, because just before Christmas you had a bruise on both sides of your forehead AND a shiner under your eye.

You are a goof ball:

You LOVE talking to people on the phone:

And you still wreak havoc everywhere you go. I cleaned the kitchen and left and you did this:

You have six teeth, you weigh 22 pounds, you love cheerios (and all food), any toys that make noise or have lights, and being chased around the apartment. You are simultaneously very clingy to mommy and a wanderer. If there's an open space to walk, you will take off and toddle across the building without even turning around to see if anyone is with you. You are high energy and then need some alone or snuggle time to cool down.

Last night you woke yourself up coughing and I came in and picked you up. You snuggled in, your cheek against mine and your head on my shoulder, relaxed into your momma. I held you and thought - amazing. Holding a child like this is one of the most amazing things in life. It's a privilege to be your momma. I love you, my little man.

To circumcise or not to circumcise?

2012-01-02T09:55:00.000-06:00

I have long promised Rachel a post about why we chose to circumcise Judah. Weird topic? Maybe. Except that for new moms of boys, it's a huge topic. Initially I put off this post because I knew it was a controversial topic and I didn't think my post-partum emotions could handle it. Then I was awaiting the rumored release of an update to the Center for Disease Control's recommendations on circumcision, but that never came. Then I was just busy and didn't get around to it.

So, here we are one year later.

When the question of whether or not we'd circumcise came up I was taken aback because I'd never thought about it before. Circumcision is fairly standard in the evangelical American world but without many good reasons, and there is heavy push back now from folks who say circumcision is a completely unnecessary cosmetic procedure, akin to infant mutilation.

I reacted against the rhetoric on both sides and dove into research. I read up on medical sites, blogs, called our pediatrician and my OB, and talked to parents, and friends. My own experience of my infant brother being circumcised made me both take it seriously and also take seriously that the procedure could be done painlessly and safely.

Dismissing Weak Reasons Supporting Circumcision
I concluded that there are a lot of bad reasons to circumcise. It doesn't make sense to me to circumcise just so a boy is like his father. It's too serious of a procedure if that is your only reason. It's true that the Old Testament prescribes circumcision for Israel, but that is to mark them as the Israelites, and the NT clearly says that the followers of Jesus need not follow suit. Circumcision reducing penile cancer is a very small reduction of a very rare form of cancer that really doesn't justify the risk of a serious medical procedure on an infant, in my opinion. There's a lot of old wives tales that people used to hold about circumcision that simply aren't true, and there's no evidence about circumcision affecting sexual pleasure one way or another.

Dismissing Weak Reasoning Against Circumcision
I wrestled with the arguments against circumcision and found that so many of them are guilt and emotion-ridden rather than based on fact. A lot of people talk about how how different organizations "don't recommend" circumcision, but I found that to be misleading because they also don't specifically speak against it. They don't recommend circumcision. They also don't recommend leaving kids intact. They simply don't recommend at all, but try to educate parents.

As I said, I don't buy the arguments that it's necessarily a terribly painful process, because doctors can make it next to painless with painkillers, and yet potentially causing my baby pain is something I take very seriously. It's false to say that Americans are the only people who circumcise, since most Jewish, Muslim, Coptic, and some indigenous African, Australian, and Pacific people also circumcise (though I don't envy the Muslim cultures that circumcise on entry into adolescence!). I don't buy the argument that we shouldn't make this sort of choice for our child. Circumcising and choosing not to circ are equally choices that we make for our kids, since a child can grow up and decide he wants to be circumcised but desperately not want to have to go through it as an adult when they will carry the memory of it and (arguably) experience more pain.

So, I knew essentially that circumcision is a surgical procedure that I should take seriously. The essential question is whether it was beneficial or harmful.

The stories people told
A huge factor for me was actually anecdotal. Personal stories are powerful, ya'll! When we started discussing this, Isaac told me the story of a friend of ours that I'd never heard. He wasn't circumcised but contracted an infection when he was a young teen that was so bad he had to be circumcised and it was terrible. He wished he'd been circumcised as an infant. When I talked to our pediatrician he shrugged his shoulders and said it was controversial and we could go either way, it was our personal choice. However, when I pushed harder he told me that his father was not circumcised and wished he had been so he'd circumcised both of his sons, and that as a doctor he'd never met an adult that wished they weren't circumcised but had met those that wished they were. Both he and my OB and it seemed like many others I talked to knew someone that had to be circumcised as a teen or adult because of an infection and wished they'd had it done as an infant instead.

Does circumcision have health benefits or risks?
Those stories were a large influence, but I also wanted to see what medical world said. The vast majority of professional organizations around the world take a hands off approach. It's controversial, there's not a lot of solid research, and so they think parents should be informed and not forced either way. The exception is the World Health Organization, which cites tests in Africa on the effect of circumcision on the transmission of HIV. They say that tests show transmission drops by 60% in heterosexual men that are circumcised, which is pretty dramatic. The findings are dramatic enough that I was surprised to hear Bono talk about it on the Jon Stewart show recently about finding hope that we could begin to reduce the AIDs pandemic.

It seems at this point we know circumcision reduces transmission, but we don't know how (here's a Scientific American article on the question). It also seemed despite a lot of rhetoric to the contrary, the real medical studies pointed to a decrease in urinary tract infections in circumcised males (University of Michigan study here, other cited in sources below). It just makes sense to me that in general, tests and research seem to show that circumcision increases resistance to infection.

With that in mind, we moved forward and had Judah circumcised. Research and personal anecdotes point to there being medical benefit to the procedure. It's not enough to make me (or major organizations) say that everyone should do it, but it made me comfortable enough to go ahead with the procedure and feel like we were doing something good for our son - I believe he is safer from infection this way, and not just sexually transmitted infection. This is from the Center for Disease Control :

"A large retrospective study of circumcision in nearly 15,000 infants found neonatal circumcision to be highly cost-effective, considering the estimated number of averted cases of infant urinary tract infection and lifetime incidence of HIV infection, penile cancer, balanoposthitis, and phimosis. The cost of postneonatal circumcision was 10-fold the cost of neonatal circumcision [37]."

From an article in the Journal of the AAP:

In the 1989–1999 decade, multiple studies confirmed the beneficial effect of newborn circumcision in preventing infant UTIs19–21 and transmission of HIV.22,23 The safety and efficacy of local anesthesia were established also. Since 1999, further convincing data have documented the preventive health benefits of circumcision.

Our Choice
Circumcision is still a procedure that requires an incision, so it carries some risk and should only be done professionally, and I'd say with painkillers. For me, the potential health benefits made it worth it because I thought it could be done painlessly.

All that said, I did have some anxiety about actually having Judah circumcised - I did not want him in pain even though I'd been told it would be painless. I get why people choose not to circ. Our pediatrician did the circumcision with a topic anesthetic as well as giving Judah his first paci for comfort (covered in sugar water, which he took eagerly). The doctor told me Judah didn't cry - I'm sure he wants to comfort worried parents, but I'm hoping I can take him at his word. We were given instructions to care for the circ, and Judah wasn't any extra teary over the next days. He slept an extra amount that afternoon. When we changed his diaper we had to be careful how we cleaned him up so as not to cause any discomfort, but by just dripping lukewarm water on him we cleaned him up without bothering him at all. He didn't cry over it and it healed up in a few days - my fears allayed

US News and World Report articles here and here.
NY Times article here and on the HIV efforts with circumcision here.
Other articles quoted and sourced above.

2011 In Review

2011-12-31T17:20:00.000-06:00

This was a big year.

In Media and the Arts, I discovered The Civil Wars and fell in love. In fact, in general this year I feel like I've gotten up to speed in my genre of music, and my ipod playlist makes me very happy. I hardly had time to watch movies or read books, but I did finish The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck (and am blogging about it) as well as start on The Hunger Games (I would devour them but I wait for them to come to me for almost free via paperbackswap.com). I've been watching several TV shows but the only one I am really enamored with is Friday Night Lights, which is finished and you can get on Netflix.

Despite our finances (which pretty much suck), a high school best friend getting married required a visit to England and that allowed us to take a jaunt over to Ireland, my first time there.

Isaac finished a 4.5 year graduate degree in Theology (ThM). He picked this program because he liked that it was so well-rounded. Greek, Hebrew, Theology, Church History, and Bible, all in one program. I was pretty worried when we moved down here that this school would be super conservative and would make Isaac super conservative with them. My fears were allayed after I audited a class with him and all of my questions were met with thoughtful, open-handed answers. Isaac blasted through the program, his GPA rocks, he's amazing at languages, and his thesis grade is an A- (especially incredible because he doesn't think he's a natural paper-writer). It was a long haul and I'm SO glad it's over, but it's also been good. Although Isaac wants to be called "Master of Theology" now, I do think he's actually ending the program more humble and yet also with great philosophical and historical grounding. He may or may not also be more of a nerd. Oh who am I kidding. How can you do 4.5 years of graduate work in theology and not be more of a nerd?

This year is the most fulfilled I've been professionally. By far. It's amazing how someone can take a chance on you and that makes you want to rise to the potential they've seen in you. I'm thankful my boss sought me out and gave me the jobs I currently have. I feel like I'm taking ownership and simultaneously learning/being challenged and simply using the gifts I already have. I enjoy going to work. I feel like I'm useful and productive.... two things that are pretty important to me. In all of this I feel like an adult, a productive member of society, and a part of a team.

Judah was born just over a year ago, so it's mostly this year that I've learned to be a mother. It's been a great year. In the early months I was one big sap over the beauty of nurturing life, and here it's been a year and today Isaac and I were flipping out again over how adorable we think he is with his chubby cheeks and big blues. The struggles of knowing how to balance discipline and tenderness are made bearable by the joy of Judah as a person. I love him. I love being a mother.

We finished up our two years of living with roommates this year, and when we moved out I planned a post about how it'd been. Although we didn't have a lot of space and we had to manage the chores and sometimes fit four people into a kitchen, it was filled with talks in the living room, games of Catan and Trivial Pursuit, and roommate dates. That post I was going to write didn't happen, though, because as the weeks passed it was evident that our roomies' marriage was spiraling and is now ending in divorce. I haven't posted about it because it isn't really our story to tell. What I have learned, though, is that marriage is not our stability, the Lord is, and that divorce affects much more than the two people in the marriage. It affects all who are friends of the marriage, and for us that has meant months of fighting for the relationship, feeling the betrayal, confusion, anger, loss, and walking with Steph through the pain. That was the hardest thing about this year. It's hard to know how to feel about being roommates now, even though it went down after we moved out. The present calls all the past memories and experiences into question, and I guess that's exactly how the wronged party feels when they look back on their marriage as well.

In the same vein as above, I've seen the church in action this year. Our church has a really good small group program. Through this divorce and some other friends struggling, I've seen the church be the church and and step in with truth, love, support, and hope. It's been rough, ya'll. People suck sometimes, and they say and do terrible things when you've known them long enough that they don't keep up appearances for you. Sticking with people and being good friends is really really hard sometimes, and sometimes it's easier to ignore a problem than to face it and be a good friend. Sometimes you lose friends. Sometimes being honest may actually bring them back in the long run, though, and we've seen that too. The leadership of our church warned us that community was hard, and they were right. However, I believe in it more than ever. In real community you can't escape each other, so you either leave or you grow, and growth isn't usually easy. Now more than ever, I highly value our little community group.

This goes with the mothering thing, but Isaac and I have begun to learn to parent together this year. Parenting changes your marriage. Ideally new parents would have a weekly babysitter, have one parent home full-time, and have a room to themselves. We don't have any of the above, and sometimes we approach things in parenting from opposite perspectives. There's been a lot of talking over presuppositions and reworking our schedules so that we are getting time together. Taking a two-day road trip to and from Chicago this past week was a great way to end the year (even if our kid was sick) because we had so much time to talk and reminisce. I'm SO glad that we're pretty good at communication because it's been invaluable through this year of learning to parent. Also, just because something like parenting is a challenge to a marriage doesn't mean it's a bad thing, it's just something that we learn and grow through. Again. Worth it. Thankful for marriage. Thankful for him.

2011 was filled with the unexpected. It was challenging but good. I feel like more of an adult after this year. On that note, the chances I will stay up to midnight? Rather small. I am a boring and sick mother (with a sick baby as well!) who needs her sleep!

A Sick Chicago Christmas

2011-12-27T10:49:00.001-06:00

It's been a rough Christmas vacation week for this family. The road trip up to Chicago went pretty well because Judah slept the entire way. He had a fever when I carried him into the hotel the first night, and that was just the beginning of him getting sicker and sicker. He's had a cold once or twice before, but nothing like this. This terrible cough, spiking fevers, listlessness, loss of appetite.... pretty scary. He's been a completely different child. I considered taking him to urgent car on Christmas Day. His spiking fevers seem to have stopped, but he's obviously still never sick and I don't know if I should just wait it out or take him to the doctor before we leave the city.

It sucks to have all of that go down while we're in our very rare time with family and in our favorite city. We were really looking forward to having him play with his cousin. Oh well, nothing we can do about it! Isaac and I are sick now too, but not as badly has Judah has been. We've still been able to enjoy time with Isaac's parents and sisters and their spouses and kids.

It was surprisingly emotional driving into the city. It's always sentimental, and it's striking because of how much time we spent wandering the city during college. I've spent nearly as long in Dallas now as I spent in Chicago, but it's been in our apartment, at church, at the grocery store, etc. Most of the city I recognize but I haven't been to or made my own - you know? In Chicago as we drive through I have been on every street corner with friends or out with Isaac, roller blading or catering or going to festivals. Every corner is a story to me.

This time we drove in from the southwest, a route we don't usually take. We came off of 55 directly onto Lakeshore Drive in between the Field Museum and Grant Park, suddenly dropped in the middle of memories. I looked to the right where I've catered a hundred times and it was like a punch in the gut, seeing the route the bus took when I sat and talked to Clark on our way to a catering event, the last time I saw him before he committed suicide my senior year.

I looked left then, and saw Grant Park. I've been there a hundred times as well, but it is vivid with memories of Mandy because that's where we always roller bladed to together with whatever guys would go with us - winding through the rose gardens and statues.

Isaac and Judah and I unloaded at Navy Pier and got to see it all decked out for Christmas. When we finished we drove back out off of the pier, down Chicago Avenue, and just past our old house in the Ukrainian Village. I was in tears as we drove out of Navy Pier because again, it was my roller blading route with Mandy, and she is gone. Her memorial is set up just blocks from my sister-in-law's apartment.

Once the shock of those memories passed, we just remember again how much we love this city. It's impossible to take advantage of it and see all the friends and places we'd like to see, and mostly we've been staying with family and nursing our sick boy. I know the photos and videos of the few moments when Judah is on his feet will be striking in the future, when the three cousins are all baby boys and we are all young couples and aunt Tiana was still in high school.

7 Quick Takes

2011-12-17T08:00:00.000-06:00

1. Isaac and Judah and I went to the seminary family Christmas Chapel today. I took time off of work to go, which was really something I had to do after last year. Judah was a week old and it was going to be his first outing, so we got all dressed up and ready to go share in the Christmas spirit and show off our little one in Isaac's world. And then we found out I'd left the car seat in my car, which I'd let my mom drive to Arkansas to visit my sister. Totally my bad. And in the post-partum emotions, it was a complete tragedy.

Today I remedied that mistake. We gathered with other students and families, watching Chaplain Bill play the trumpet and Kit Bogan sing a solo and Sparkle (yes that's her name) bust out the gospel. It was festive and fun and beautiful.

2. The whole event also confirmed that I have a very active child. Seriously - our row was filled with other kids around Judah's age. There was a little girl a month older than him that sat sweetly on her momma's lap, unable to walk yet. And then there's Judah, who wiggled madly when I held him and when I'd finally let him down he was off like a shot, practically running around chairs and people. He's desperate to wander, move, just be active. It's great. And it's a pain when we're supposed to be sitting in one place and focusing!

Judah's active-ness is also the reason he has a nice shiner today. He refuses to stop, even when his coordination can't keep up with his speed. He almost always has bruises on his forehead, and yesterday the coffee table got in his way and bonked him good.

3. Loss. In the last couple months three friends have miscarried. This is a hard thing about this stage of life, this loss of new life, the mourning of a child you've never met. I ache over it.

4. I was looking through the photos of someone in Papua (see here, not sure if the album is public or not) and just wondering. If we go there, will we stay there? Will we know it and the people around us the way Syd and Nola do? Or would we work for a few years and then move to a new place?

5. Judah can talk... or at least he thinks so. He carries out extensive conversations with our cell phones, the mirror, himself, and on occasion us.

6. My baby brother is turning 17. What??? MY sister wrote about it here, and she mentioned him toddling around clapping. That is so surreal because that is just what Judah does now, and now the mental image of baby Judah and baby Matt is entirely confused in my mind.

7. On Monday Steph and I made four kinds of Christmas cookies, and we were up till 12:30 finishing up the project! It was completed with lots of conversation, Christmas music, messes, and pictures. Ex-roomie love.

The Road Less Travelled - Discipline (part 2)

2011-12-14T23:48:00.003-06:00

Whoops, I posted this on the wrong blog. If you're interested, go and read it here.

Circumcision, Flu Shots, and Birthing Centers - One Year In

2011-12-14T23:00:00.000-06:00

Last year before Judah was born, I wrote two posts (here and here) about the many decisions you make when you have a baby. I was still wrestling with a number of them myself when I wrote it. I thought I'd follow up those posts with my thoughts one year later.

1. Are we ready to have a kid? When is the right time?
Advice for people trying to decide if they're ready or not: Are you newlyweds and really young? Give yourself some time. Are you struggling financially? Please check your insurance and do a little research to find out if you can pay your bills after the baby is born. Marital troubles? Having a baby will not solve them.

All that said.... if you're pregnant, that little one is a person, and focusing on caring for that little person is your top priority. It's no longer time to worry if it's the right time - you're a parent - and it's wonderful. We weren't ready yet and I wouldn't trade it for anything. If you do have a choice, be wise with it the same way you should with any decision.

2. How do you pick a doctor?

Lessons learned here. I picked a doctor's office that was well reviewed and accepted our insurance and had weekend and some evening hours so that I could get Judah there after work if needed. We went to appointments regularly for six months. Then the bills for immunizations started coming and I started understanding them. $300 each time. What??? Yes, they accept our insurance, but pretty much the insurance didn't cover the immunizations. So - finding a nice office didn't do me much good. I ended up finding out that county health clinics would provide immunizations for $15 bucks, which is totally worth it for me

We've stopped going to the doctor at all, and if Judah was sick I'd probably take him to a walk-in clinic. If you've got good insurance you'd probably have much better luck.

3. Birthing center or hospital or home birth?

Now I increasingly say... hospital. I've known enough people with complications to think that it's worth it to go to a hospital. If you do a little research you can figure out which hospitals are most friendly to all-natural birth if that's your thing, and get a doula to coach you at a hospital. The desire to go all-natural doesn't necessitate a home birth or a birthing center.Also, now that I've been through a birth I know that it's SO nice to have a day of recovery time in the hospital. Even with an easy vaginal delivery I wasn't able to walk for a day and having food delivered, the nurse's help with Judah, and me able to have help and coaching with recovery was really nice.

4. Epidural or Natural Labor
Hey, whatever you want to do. Really. I did an epidural. I really think I could do natural labor - it doesn't scare me as much now, especially since I know my chances of having a fairly simple labor are good considering how it went the first time around. If you want to go all natural and end up needing an epidural and even a c-section, don't stress. Thank God for the blessing of medical expertise that means you end up with a live healthy baby that 200 years ago would probably have died in that same situation.

4. Circumcise or leave intact?
Hot button issue. Post forth-coming.

5. Flu shots
Everyone in the medical field told me to get a flu shot when I was pregnant. Everyone. Tons of people who aren't in the medical field told me it wasn't necessary. Sooo.... truth is I can't remember whether I got it or not. Neither Judah or I got them this year, but supposedly it's most important when you're pregnant and have a newborn.

6. Immunize?
Again, everyone in the medical field told me this was important. As I said last year, having been overseas and seen the power of immunizations and seen friends get the exact diseases that some of those immunizations protect against, I was all for it. However, scroll up and see my lessons learned about how pricey immunizations can be. Check your local county or state health clinic for affordable options.

7. Breast or bottle feed?
The second option should really be formula, because I both nursed Judah and bottle-fed. He was a good eater and I knew it was healthier for him to feed him myself. Pumping after going back to work was a massive headache, but we managed to go with exclusively mother's milk for 6 months and mostly mother's milk for 8 months as I dried up. Judah didn't get sick at all during that time. We then did formula until a year, which is soooo expensive and I'm really glad we can now use whole milk.

8. Respond to cries or institute a sleep/feeding regimen?
Last year I said, "If my baby easily moves into a schedule of eating and sleeping, great. We'll give it a shot. But if it isn't working, I'm not gonna force it." With eating we were pretty flexible. I highly recommend just following your baby's cues for feeding. Their needs change, your schedule should change with their needs.

We argued over the sleeping regimen. Once he was a couple months old I was willing to try to follow Judah's cues and encourage but not force him to go down at certain times and eventually stay down. I really think there's a delicate balance. Babies slowly learn to sleep longer and longer, and by five or six months really don't need to eat at night anymore. Isaac and I might have disagreed on how we felt about cry-it-out, but we agreed that the goal was not crying or silence, but a baby who slept well and had been dealt with lovingly (neither spoiling or neglecting is loving - how to strike a balance?). Some parents may end up training their kids to always cry themselves to sleep by enforcing cry-it-out, and is that really what you want? Other parents may continue to respond to a kid that really no longer needs to wake up and/or eat, never realizing that they're actually harming the kid's sleeping schedule because he or she no longer needs to wake up.

Gently train your kid to sleep. That is a delicate balance and we had a number of nights where we argued about how to respond to Judah. Sometimes we'd let him fuss. Sometimes we'd go get him and maybe feed him. For months now (when he's not teething, at least), we put him down with a paci and blanket and he falls asleep peacefully and silently and sleeps till morning. Yeah baby.

9. Co-sleep or sleep separately?
Did you hear about the Milwaukee ad that likened co-sleeping to sleeping with a knife? Geez. I guess you really need to be careful co-sleeping. We did a little of both. At first when Judah woke up to eat every few hours we'd always start him in his crib. When he woke up I'd get him out of his crib and take him back to bed with me to nurse. Inevitably we'd both fall asleep. That meant I got way more sleep than I otherwise would have. It also worked because I'm a very still sleeper. Eventually we focused on putting him back in his own bed and that helped him learn to sleep through the night.

10. Stay at home, go back to work, work part-time, day care, etc?
Heh. Well. After six weeks I went back to work full-time. Ironically it's been the most professionally fulfilling work year of my life, at the same time as being a mother has been so incredibly fulfilling. Balancing those two things has been pretty stressful. However, it's been pretty awesome to be able to come home and work from home with Judah during Isaac's seminary classes, and it's so nice to know Judah is being watched by his daddy when I'm not home.

Still.... I wish I were the one home most of the time. The truth is that my heart aches for that because I know they grow up so fast. This season has been good, though. Good for me to work, good for Isaac to get precious time with Judah, good for Isaac to finish seminary (next week!) without having to take time off.

Thanksgiving + Colorado + Family + Teething

2011-12-11T06:00:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving was up in Colorado with my family. My family is growing! There's a brother-in-law to be in this photo, as well as the two new little ones! And this is only the beginning....

We soak in the family time. Lots of talking, playing games, watching football, cooking, and more talking.

My grandpas in the back are so great!

Thanksgiving itself was absolutely lovely. Gorgeous weather. We had something like 22 of us stuffed into a small house that day, so we overflowed outside. We discussed how this is the kid's table, despite the fact that there are two sets of married couples/parents and another engaged couple out of the group of us. When do you stop being the "kids"?

We spent some time looking at old pictures and videos, including photos of me as a baby with my great grandparents. We took the opportunity to take a series of photos of the two great-grandkids with their great grandparents. I'm glad we'll have the photos!

It's sobering to know that I don't know how long they will live and how much Judah will remember them. I actually was nearly in tears over this during our road trip home. You know, it used to be that the immediate family was just one subset of the tribe. Your individual family identity wasn't as important at the tribal identity that was passed down from generation to generation. These days we don't have a tribe, so where are we left when the generations before us pass away? This makes it extra hard to lose them - they are our only connection to our past.

I'd love to say Thanksgiving was filled with beautiful times of aunts and uncles and grandparents bonding with Judah.

But instead, because of the teething, I got a lot of this:

Oh mom, please pick me up again. Please, please!

FYI - my grandparents are the cutest thing ever.

Oh wait, no not true. My niece is.

A Funeral in the Shadow of Mount Cyclops

2011-12-09T17:30:00.000-06:00

At the end of September I wrote about the death of Paul Westlund, a missionary pilot. He died in a plane crash on the island I grew up in. The photos of the funeral, taken by another pilot (Clive Gray), are stunning. They were a balm to those of us from over there who couldn't be there to mourn with the community. It also reflects the amazing ministry of a missions pilot, intersecting with the missionaries who fly to remote villages and the Papuan villagers in those villages.

This picture is stunning. Look at the flood of people coming down the hill. That is the road up to my school where the funeral was held, and they are taking the casket down to the cemetery below the school. I love the crowd of faces of many colors and beautiful Sentani and Mount Cyclops in the background.

The casket was carried in stages, with great symbolism. It was carried by the Papuan and Indonesian maintenance guys that worked on the airplanes Paul flew. It was carried by his fellow pilots, the men he flew and worked with for years, men who have lost a brother and are sobered by the risk of the job they do daily. And then it's carried by the men below, the translators who have been working in remote villagers, enabled only by the pilots that fly them.

The old lady below was at the funeral and was the mother of a Papuan church planter who also died in the crash.

I wept I looked through these and other photos. I saw my friend watching her father be buried. Her brother, wearing one of his Dad's trademark floppy hats. The community gathering of missionaries, Papuans, Indonesians, honoring a man loved by many whose quiet example seems to have gone much further than anyone knew. The evidence of the church as it's grown, from early evangelism to indigenous churches and church planters and multi-generation believers. It's the Church global - missionaries from Ireland, Japan, Korea, Canada, the USA, Germany, New Zealand... etc.

There is deep sadness and yet also peace and joy. I wish I could have been there.

In a bare apartment on Park Lane

2011-12-04T06:30:00.000-06:00

We drive to Park Lane, past the four or five other sprawling apartment complexes that house Hispanics, Blacks, and refugees from around the world. We turn right into the complex we head to every Wednesday and drive around to the very back. We pass a tall Sudanese man, two Burmese men in their sarongs (Isaac says, "skirts"), and a crowd of refugee kids playing soccer.

When we knock on the door they answer with enthusiasm and we shake hands and take off our shoes and set our bags on the couch while we all settle on the woven mat in the middle of the carpet. Their apartment is about as big as ours, ours only looks nicer because it's decorated and theirs is pretty barren. They have the couch, the floor mat, and a tv on a tv stand set up with a dvd player (how is that the TV is ALWAYS first priority?). On the wall are pictures of Jesus. They've told us firmly they are Baptist, but all their religious decor looks Catholic to an American eye. There's a map of the public transport system and a photo of the Chin Baptist congregation at the church they attend.

In what was meant to be the dining room is a small table with two chairs that no one sits at. In the corner are two old Huggies diaper boxes, now filled with hand-me-down toys for the twin two year old girls, Mary and Elizabeth. The kitchen is small and it seems that they're using the dishwasher as a storage facility. The rice maker is always on and the stove usually has some sort of stew or curry that obviously includes parts of the animal I wouldn't be comfortable eating.

Dal Mang and his brother-in-law Mung Pi have been in the country three months and a month, respectively. They are Burmese but were living in Malaysia, just like the first refugee family I worked with. That's great for all of us, because when the language barrier becomes a problem we resort to Indo/Malay and I get my personal language fix for the night. Dal Mang works at Pei Wei as a dishwasher and Mung Pi is waiting on a job. Right now he's playing nanny, though, because Niang, Dal's wife, has been in and out of the hospital for weeks. The first week we were there she was happy and healthy, but after that they told us she was pregnant and sick, and eventually was so sick she got dehydrated and unable to keep anything down for days on end. For the last few weeks she's been home but nearly bedridden because she's weak and can barely walk. I can't even imagine how scary it is to stay at a hospital when you know nothing about the language or culture.

Dal Mang and Mung Pi settle on the floor in front of Isaac, who brings a white board and ESL worksheets he makes. They work on grammar and vocab and trying to say the English out loud and with confidence. While they work I attempt to keep Maria and Elizabeth and Judah entertained, which is basically impossible. The girls find Judah alternately intriguing and annoying, and when he walks up to them they push him over or hit him. He, however, thinks the place is fantastic with all that space to practice toddling, and mysterious things like salty plums to find on the floor and eat until Mom spots it (!).

I ache for them, as I have each family that I've worked with when they're new. I think this family in particular catches at my heart right now, when their initially cheerful mother is lying pale and weak in her bed while the girls run around a house and dad struggles to work an intro level job.

Psalms 10:

But you, God, see the trouble of the afflicted;
   you consider their grief and take it in hand.
The victims commit themselves to you;
   you are the helper of the fatherless....
¹⁷ You, LORD, hear the desire of the afflicted;
   you encourage them, and you listen to their cry.

Driving Eastern Colorado

2011-12-02T22:29:00.001-06:00

"Granny has quit driving: 1995 Grand Prix.... Will consider trade for guns or old tractors."

That's from the High Plans paper that I picked up during our dinner at a diner on our way home from Thanksgiving. Remember when I described our midnight drive in West Texas? Well, that was nothing compared to driving Eastern Colorado. West Texas has tiny podunk towns and scattered ranches and farms. Eastern Colorado has nothing. I mean... to the extent that we'd drive for miles and miles and not see any lights on the horizon. No highway lights, no town lights, no scattered farms or ranches.

There is nothing there.

It was surreal. Through most of Eastern Colorado we hit a grand total of three small towns. None of them had a fast food restaurant. Where we ended up stopping was a town with one diner and a gas pump (not a gas station, mind you, an unmanned gas pump). The entire downtown would look somewhat like this:

The type of place where you look to the right and left and see the end of the block and the end of the town. When you did hit a small group of houses here or there, they came with signs like this:

It was culture shock, a bit, to realize just how much of a solid block of land this was that was almost completely uninhabited. What is life like for those who live there?

I'll tell you what did happen in this area. We killed about 200-300 native Americans (that had signed and were abiding by a peace treaty already in place). You can see how much we are really using the land we fought so hard to own and dominate:

Life in the area was exhibited a little in the paper I read and the people at the diner we stopped at. Cowboy hats, livestock auctions, farm equipment, and church. It made for a fascinating, if rather barren drive home.

From 2011

In which I hate teething

2011-11-30T12:38:00.001-06:00

What was I saying a couple weeks ago about delighting in my child? Yeah. I have loved this age.

Except now I have terror angry clingy Judah, and it's not so delightful.

He's teething, so there's a reason, which better mean that when he's done teething the clingy/demanding/angry child is gone, or else we have a major challenge on our hands!

It started over Thanksgiving, when I was overjoyed to bring Judah to a family gathering, the first since just after he was born. I had visions of my siblings and parents finally getting to play with him and experience his giggles and snuggles. Umm... not so much. Every now and then he was happy, but generally as soon as I set him down he'd turn around and fuss until I picked him back up. He didn't want to be held by anyone else and cried when I left the room. He woke up the first night and I chalked it up to the road trip and new place throwing him off his schedule, but he actually woke up every night... and every night since we got back.

I was relieved to discover a new top tooth midway through the vacation, which explained why he'd been so needy. The second top tooth is pushing through right now (almost there!). Monday was my birthday, and it was generally characterized by me feeling completely sick with a cold, Judah being absolutely screamy/miserable (seriously, he slept off and on the whole day and anytime he was up he was crying), and Isaac running on three hours of sleep after finishing his last paper of his seminary career. Fun fun?

Monday evening when I got home and Judah was wailing at my feet, I looked at him and thought about how that day marked the second day (the first was also teething) in his life that I've felt completely frustrated with him and at my wit's end. It's been a good reminder, though, because in those moments I realize that I will have other moments like these for the rest of his life. I don't care for him because he's fulfilling me, I care for him because I'm his mother and I love him. So I take a deep breath and pray for patience, I pick him up and intentionally speak gently and snuggle him despite his angry squirms and fussing. I try to calm him and know that this is what we do, we mothers, and fussiness is not an excuse to be an angry or impatient mama.

AND... praise God for Steph, who babysat despite her own crazy schedule and let Isaac and I go watch a movie. It wasn't exactly the best birthday I've ever had, but I got to sit with Isaac and spent time just us. Win.

Midnight on the drive from Dallas to Amarillo

2011-11-23T08:17:00.001-06:00

We stopped an hour outside of Dallas for dinner and let Judah toddle around the restaurant while we ate our pizza. The people seated next to us were a family of cowboys, complete with the hats and boots and everything. It’s moments like that when I think, “Wow, I really do live in Texas.”

We listened to Tina Fay’s Bossypants audiobook, an echo of our hours on the road on our honeymoon, listening to The Da Vinci Code and Into Thin Air. We pass other small towns and Isaac says we’re in Dillon (Friday Night Lights, anyone?). They’re the kind of places that have travel stops called “Jesus Christ is Lord”, the "It'll Do" motel (seriously) and signs for feed lots, bail bonds, and home cooking.

When the towns pass, we are left in the barren plains of West Texas that reveals a canopy of stars invisible until now. I press my face against the window and between the stars and the lull of the car I’m reminded of Sunday night drives as a child. We lived 30 minutes away from where our organization's weekly Sunday night meetings were held. As we drove away from those meetings we pulled out dinner, apple slices, crackers, and cheese. Except the cheese was the only kind of cheese available in Indonesian stores without refrigeration, a sort of shelf-stable Kraft cheese sold in a blue box that I was convinced was a petroleum byproduct.

After eating I would read, undeterred by warnings that my eyesight would fail early if I kept straining so much. I would hold my book up so that I could catch the beams of the headlights of oncoming cars, snatch a few sentences and wait for the next car.

Eventually I would press my face to the window and watch the sky of stars, hung with dippers and men with belts, uncontested by city lights. It was beautiful, especially with sleeping siblings and the love of a family filling the car while day dreams and prayers filled my head. Once in high school Alysa, Rachel and I happened on a family using a telescope to star gaze. Since then I’ve known to find Orion and track one corner down the horizon to a bright, twinkling blue star. I know that through a telescope it is a new star, the brilliant, breathtaking rainbow of color that Rachel and I saw that night.

It’s still there now, that star, in the West Texas sky as I watch through the window. I wonder that I am the mother in this car, with my baby sleeping in the back and my husband of years now listening to Matisyahu and driving. So much different, so much the same.

People I Love

2011-11-18T23:29:00.000-06:00

I am so thankful.... for friends. Really. I treasure the people in my life, and recently there have been precious times with friends in and out of town. It makes me feel alive.

Terrible picture, but we never take pictures when we're together so here we go:

That's my community group here. They are our friends. They know us. We know them. Sometimes we yell at each other. Sometimes we laugh. The boys always talk for twice as long as the girls, which is weird. That we are still meeting is sort of a miracle. It's a beautiful thing, this group.

And... my sister got to come over for her Fall break last month. That meant she babysat while we got a date (Hallelujah!) Being able to be together and talk about life and watch her go through her college years is a privilege. We won't always live this close, and it's pretty funny that five hours away is "close".

Missy and Linda are only two hours away, and in the last month I think I've seen Missy three times and Linda twice. Amazing! We went out to a fall festival thing that was sort of underwhelming, but just talking and having the two boys play together is just great. Both Missy and Linda have boys due in the Spring, so it'll be quite a crowd when we all get together in a few years. Four boys just a couple of years apart.

And then, our friend Josh came down and stayed with us last week from Chicago. He was the best man in our wedding, and he and Isaac have one of those unique friendships where they barely stay in touch but they love the same things so they always reconnect immediately whenever they see each other. There's this dream out there that one day we will live and work in the same place. Who knows? In any case, it was SUCH a great thing to have him here, sleeping on our couch and talking for hours. Really. Amazing how just the presence of someone can be such a gift.

I find myself longing for beauty

2011-11-16T00:11:00.000-06:00

In reading books like Ann Voskamp's (which I recently read and discussed here) and blogs that flow out of other modern-day mystics, I recognize something familiar. It reminds me of back when I lived next to the mountain and the jungle and the lake and the ocean (my lake... pictured above).

I sought beauty. It seeped into me, the small things that others missed. I don't know if it was how much I loved that place, or perhaps the emotional highs and lows of a hormonal teenager, I only know that the world bled glory. It found me but I went looking for more anyways.

I used to go on walks before sunset in the four years I lived on "the hill" that was actually just a foothill of a mountain. I wonder, if I walked it now, would I notice and know it the way I did then, when I would stop where the trees dropped away and watch in awe at the clouds and sunset? The way I would breathe deep and wonder if the air really was sweet or if I was just infatuated with this place. The green grass, the flowers, the buzz of cicadas and calls of jungle birds, the way the badly made road dissolved into ditch and field. I walked and sang, sometimes aloud, sometimes just inside.

It wasn't just my walks, either. The rainy days filled me with joy for the cool and the beating on the tin roof. The drive home, from a hill into a valley, like a slow-motion roller coaster sweeping into the golden hour. The mornings in which I would lay quiet and read scripture, often feeling I could explode with joy.

It wasn't just the place. The place was beautiful, but I saw things. I saw the sunrises as I sat with a journal and Bible, and my heart caught in exultation. I could have just passed by all of that. I saw falling stars in a crowded night sky because I lay on the sand of the beach to see them. I saw clouds rolling and playing with sunlight because I would go and sit on the big concrete transformers to watch them.. I listened and drank in the sound of voices blended together. Night of hilarity with friends were beautiful, not just fun, because love is beautiful. I remember running a mile in the dark around a field, not because I loved running (I hated it) but because I wanted to breath in the night and when I ran into it I found I kept on running for the joy of being there.

Yes. That dreamy eye for beauty was me. It bled into time in Chicago, when I watched the birds fly circles around the intersection in the cold, and the snow swirl and silence the bustle into padded quiet. The wind on my face on the lakefront trail, the sun on the buildings, the energy of the city streets, the undiscovered corners and shops, even the light on the glasses and the rhythm of dance in the events I catered. I saw beauty in the city, too.

I wrestle in the daily grind, in a adulthood, in suburbia... to keep a heart that sees all of this. That is what I liked best about reading Ann Voskamp's book - she's reminded me to look and see what is all around me - beauty that causes my heart to sing and my soul to worship.

But the irony: Don't I often desperately want to wriggle free of the confines of a small life? Yet when I stand before immensity that heightens my smallness - I have never felt sadness. Only burgeoning wonder. Is it because within each frame of finite flesh lies the likeness of infinite God? In all things large and spectacular, we recognize glimpses of home and the call to our own deeper chemistry. Do we writhe to peel out of our smallness and into the big life because that fits our inborn God-image?

Echo calls to echo, deep to deep.

11 months - almost a year!

2011-11-13T06:00:00.000-06:00

It's official. He's a toddler, not a baby.

Exhibit A.

He's so.... delightful. I mean, you see it all over my posts, the delight I take in him. It's so fun to watch him be delighted as well. He's discovering constantly, and is so proud of his new discoveries. Last week he learned to clap and he clapped with such excitement. This week he started dancing for the first time, as exhibited towards the end of this video. SUCH a white boy, I tell you. Pretty stiff moves there.
.

And he's got two teeth that came in at the beginning of the month, one right after another. Brutal. He doesn't scream when he's teething, he's just generally a fussy mess. As soon as they popped out my cheery Judah was back.

He's also recently learned to give kisses, but he gives them out sparingly when he's calm and affectionate. Which means... I'm lucky to get two a week! They're so sweet - a wide mouth gentle kiss planted on whatever part of my face is closest to him.

First Halloween - actually we didn't go out at all, I couldn't be bothered. We did put him in his outfit a few times to chuckle at it, but it made him cry because he couldn't crawl or walk right in it.

Another first - his first cold this week. He's been sneezy and feverish and extra snugly, but I think it's passing.

The worst first? first bloody lip. And then his second bloody lip. Both times were soft falls but it seems he's smashing his face down something and tearing that little piece of skin that helps connect the upper lip to the gums. Lots of blood but he's fine after a few minutes. Took daddy a while to get over the heart attack of finding blood streaming out of his son's mouth.

This is not new, but a continuance of the last few months. He's still into EVERYTHING.

Most of all he's not supposed to tap on our laptops, and since it is forbidden he is desperate to get to them. He waits until we're distracted and toddles over as fast as he can go. *shakes head*... He's in awe of other kids. I love this picture, because it's often what he does around older kids - sit and stare in a sort of skeptical awe.

He loves playing with his daddy. In fact, Isaac was kidding around and asked Judah, "Judah, who's your favorite Mommy?" And Judah babbled in perfect timing, "Dad."

Truth is, he loves Daddy for playing and when he's sad he always wants mommy. And he cries when I leave in the morning, which just breaks my heart.

Can I just say - I think these little jeans are the cutest ever.

This photo is terribly blurry but I love it. Pure joy? Or... in Isaac's words, "Ritalin, somebody, quick!"

7 Quick Takes - 7 Favorites Right Now

2011-11-10T09:38:00.001-06:00

** Link up with other 7 Quick Takes at Conversion Diary

1. Blue Bell Pumpkin Pie ice cream.
Tastes like pumpkin pie with whipped cream! It has chunks of roasted sugared pecans in it and our friend Josh who stayed with us last week gasped when he tried it and said it was probably the best ice cream he'd ever had.

2. Oat Revolution
Walmart has recently been featuring these packets of five instant oatmeals for $1. I like them - they have flax seeds in them and they're set up so the packet itself has a measuring line in it so you know how much water to put in. Perfect for this working mom who is often grabbing breakfast in the office kitchen on my way to my desk in the morning!

3. Ghirardelli Sea Salt Soiree
Dang. I like dark chocolate. Really dark. And this is the best I've had in America. Smooth and dark and flavored with sea salt and bits of almond. YUM.

4. Green Onions
So, Pinterest told me to stick the white bottoms of green onions in water and they would regrow. Worth a try, right? Within hours of putting the bases in water I could see growth, and in a few days I have an entirely new bunch of green onions. Weird but cool and ... awesomely cost saving.

5. Fall Candles
I love the chill in the air and I want to enjoy the season. Fall scented candles are burning all the time in our apartment right now.

6. Pan Am
I don't have a show that is "my show" right now, but I'm trying out Pam Am. It's okay. I'm not a HUGE fan, but it's interesting.

7. Most of all... seeing my brother become a daddy. I've got a new little niece that just came home today. I got all emotional seeing the photos of my brother and the baby, and I cannot wait to meet her and see my brother and sister in law! Bring on Thanksgiving!

On the presence of old friends

2011-11-06T00:18:00.002-05:00

An old friend is staying with us this week, in fact, he was Isaac's best man. We don't get to see each other often these days, and Isaac keeps up with friends just like the stereotypical male, hardly at all but picking up right where they left off.

And I find that every night we're staying up till the early morning hours with conversations that range from new bands to the greek word for something or some theological position or how becoming adults means finding out how painfully broken the church and people are, and to being stretched thin by life. Strong-bad voices and old insults are being thrown around. I find us shifting from listening to the Civil Wars to Isaac and Josh singing along to Flight of the Conchords while I shake my head in despair. It is beautiful, this communion.

It is strange to do it all again now, when a baby wakes up and cries in the middle of it and we're off to work in the morning. This blending of college friendships with adulthood is strange, but oh how thankful I am for friendships, for people who know us and have known us, for men whose interests are the same and can sit and push each others' brains around for a while and thoroughly enjoy it. For being a witness to each others' lives from those early days of tentative adulthood on into marriage, pain and beauty, and still laughing through it all.

And I am thankful that it is chilly outside and that I am burning fall candles in the evening and that I have brand new breathtakingly precious new niece, and that my son's cheeks are soft, and that everything on my to do list is in the end not really THAT important.

I am not thankful that Judah is teething and cranky again. Just sayin.

Saturday Morning Escapades

2011-11-05T10:31:00.000-05:00

The Asian markets are my favorite place in all of Dallas.

This morning Isaac and our friend Josh that's staying with us this week were still asleep when Judah got me up at 8:30. We quietly got ready in the bathroom and then slipped outside. I thought we could go on an outing while the boys slept in.

But... where to go? Hmm...

A park? Great idea. Except that the stroller is in Isaac's car and I can't find his keys.

The mall? I sometimes like the mall and I definitely like the mall play place for Judah, but I hate the effort it takes to get in and out of those monstrosities, and they're so.... I don't know. It's like materialism embodied, which is really fun sometimes and depressing other times (like say when you have no money).

A coffee shop? Indeed, if you're going to go on a Saturday morning outing, you may as well get a find cup o' Joe while you're out. Except, the decent coffee shops are all across the city and Starbucks is like coffee flavored sugar drinks.

Umm...

The cemetery? Yes, this was a real thought of mine, because there's this massive cemetery just down the road from us that is just like a park because of the great walking path and beautiful setting. But, same problem as the park option. No stroller.

*lightbulb*

Just around the block from the cemetery is the Vietnamese section of town, and I LOVE Vietnamese coffee, and I haven't been to the Vietnamese grocery store in ages, and I need bean sprouts and peanuts for soto ayam (Indonesian chicken soup).

So off we went to the same place featured in one of my first posts on here, Egg-rolls and Pigs Heads - Exploring Dallas.

I tell you what... I walk inside that place and my body relaxes and I meander the aisles just smiling. Particularly the Vietnamese store is JUST like being in Indonesia. The men wandering around in sarongs, the super mie (ramen) aisle, the snacks I grew up with... I love it.

So we shopped and I got my iced coffee, and then we came home... only to find the boys STILL sleeping.

Breathing

2011-10-28T17:54:00.000-05:00

I just arrived at home. There's a candle burning. The dishes are washed. Christmas music playing softly. My sleeping little angel in the corner and his daddy drinking tea and reading in the other corner. I'm ever so thankful for that man and for the peace he and our home pour into me.

*deep breath*

I need to work the knots out of these shoulder muscles and slow down.

I'm keeping up with things and continuing to invest in everyone I need to invest in, but only at the expense of soul rest, you know what I mean?

In the winter I started a new role at my job and I just did so again a couple weeks ago. It was the same way back in February - several weeks of things feeling insane while I attempted to incorporate the changes into a manageable rhythm. That time and this time my writing totally went south until I got a handle on things. It's always sort of ironic because when I'm going-going-going is really when I want to write to get it all out of my head.

And now my sleeping angel slowly started moving and is now sitting up with his paci bobbing his mouth and staring at me with his big blue eyes. This calls for Mommy/Judah snuggles.

Worst Night of Sleep Ever

2011-10-13T22:35:00.001-05:00

I have been MIA in the blog world this week because I'm so busy. Good busy, though.

I'm taking in Anne Voskamp's 1,000 Gifts way too quickly in order to be ready for a book group on Saturday.

Last weekend we took a road trip and saw my parents and grandparents and brother, and rain, and the beginnings of a real Fall!

Today we met with a new refugee family we'll be mentoring, and they speak Malay (yay!).

This weekend my sister comes and spends her Fall break with us. (yay!)

So, since I am too busy to write a real post, I leave you with a story.

That is my brother and a friend, about 12 years ago.I took that picture. We were spending the night in a honai, a Papuan hut.

It was probably one of the worst nights of sleep in my entire life - my version of the classic American childhood experience of going to sleep in a tent in the back yard and then being freaked out and cold or hot or rained out and miserably sleepless.

The photo was taken during the still adventurous part of the night. We brought our piles of necessities down from the house, which was a spectacle in and of itself because most people that live in those honais don't own as much as we "needed" for one night. We made a fire, we cooked ramen and had fruit, we played games on our sleeping bags by candle light.

Except, as we were eating and playing games on our sleeping bags we saw roaches crawling up between the slats that make up the floor of a honai. I am not afraid of snakes or spiders or rats, but I loathe (and am actually for real allergic to) cockroaches. Despite disposing of our leftovers, the roaches were still around. Soon Linda and I were huddled on our sleeping bags, attempting to make sure no part of us was touching the floor, since a roach could be on the opposite side of each wood slat. Our brothers laughed at us and told us to calm down. We laughed nervously, continued to freak out, attempted to calm each other down, and then still continued to freak out.

When bedtime hit, the fire still kept the hut hot but there was NO way we were falling asleep exposed to the spiders, roaches, and flies that it was now clear shared the hut with us. So, initially we sweated in our sleeping bags until the fire died out and the darkness left us unable to see what might be crawling around.

I don't know how long I laid awake, but I got very little sleep and was extra relieved for morning. I'd much rather sleep outside on the ground than on the floor of an insect-infested hut! There are limits to the adventurous of this sorta-but-not-really Jungle Girl

7 Quick Takes - 10 months old

2011-10-06T23:39:00.000-05:00

At 10 months, Judah is...

1. A determined climber
...must.... get.... higher...
And so if he's standing next to the couch while we're sitting on it, he will stand on our feet. Anything to get a couple extra inches of height. I found him like this the other day:

2. A little quirky.
You do random hilarious things like... carry your favorite spoon around in your mouth. Just hanging out as you crawl around.

3. Getting into everything.
You are longing to tap on the laptop keyboards like mom and dad, but dad won't let you. You want to check out all the cabinets and drawers and the fireplace, and the trash cans. You do love the dishwasher, and that is allowed!

4. Learning the word "no" and letting me know when you don't like what I'm telling you.
When we say "no" you either look at us and try to figure out what we're trying to stop you from doing or you refuse to look at us because if you don't look the problem will go away? (look at that face!)

5. Starting to make friends.
You LOVE other kids. Depending on your mood you'll either sit and stare at them as if you are totally amazed at how fast they run and the way they talk, or you crawl towards them as fast as you possible can, completely delighted by them.

6. Standing up!
And now taking your first steps! And today I found your first tooth! *gasp*... please slow down little man! This was just over a week ago, and he's way past this now.

7. Momma's little man.

On Growing Up Together and Old Friends

2011-10-05T17:06:00.001-05:00

I have thisfriend, Jared.

We were in the same class infourth grade, but he tells me he doesn’t remember any of us girls until years later. That’s the kind of guy he was. Mr. Sports, for sure.

Once we hithigh school, we became good friends. The kind of good friends where he drove mecrazy like a brother and yet I also trusted his character as I did no other guyaround. His mom was my teacher and class sponsor. His dad is the hero of many of my good friends.

When I cameback to college in Chicago, Jared came to visit. Isaac had just shown up andJared taught him to say, “You’re pretty, kiss me” in Indonesian, which prettymuch makes Jared instrumental in getting us together. Okay, not really, but hewas one of my only friends from “home” who met Isaac in those early years. Wekept up with each others’ lives, which were generally pretty similar. Jared andTeresa got married a year after Isaac and I did. My brother and sister-in-law lived with them for a couple of years. They were at our friend Rachel’swedding this summer in London. I just loveit when friends stay friends. You know? I love it that he's still Jared after all this time.

Jared’s wifejust linked to a sermon Jared preached. Really? Jared is preaching a sermon? Inthe words of our former class sponsor, “I can just see you all in 10 years withthe boys still stealing the girls' hair ties.” How did we grow up? And how didJared get to be such a fantastic preacher?

In any case,I listened to the message and got all teary, for one thing because Jared isgreat and he’s an adult and that’s weird, but also because I love his lifestories – because I lived them too. He told these stories, and you can see my commentsadded in red.

I absolutely loved growing up in (Papua). I thrived in it,whether it was being carried around in a net bag on my dad’s back or going tothe beach to go snorkeling or spear fishing, Indonesia had lots of outdoor activitiesand I loved that. I loved getting to hike through jungles and go to waterfalls,and most of all, I loved going to the beach (yeah,remember what I said about Jared not remembering the girls in our class? This iswhy. He was too busy playing outside)

As I lookback on my time in Indonesia, one thing that I’m very, very thankful for is Ihad the opportunity to play a lot of football. When I say football I don’t meanthe weird oblong shaped ball you use here in America, I’m talking about the roundkind, a soccer ball, and in Indonesia anything that was round and could bekicked was a soccer ball. I remember when I was about seven years old my parentsgave me a little mini rubber basketball. It did not matter to me that it wasbright orange like a basketball or that it had stripes on it like a basketball,we could kick it, therefore it must be a soccer ball. I remember spending manymany afternoons with my Indonesian friends playing soccer withthat rubber basketball. As I grew up I got to play soccer on a number ofdifferent Indonesian teams and it became a big part of my life and a big partof my story. Heh. I grew up with it too, but notbecause I was playing it – I stink at nearly all sports. More because I waswatching it. I had a massive crush on a guy on Jared’s team so was a big “fan”and went to watch them practice. My most embarrassing moment involved that soccer team. My brother later played for the same team.

I was 19when I left Indonesia. I can remember like yesterdaythe day that I left, because it was the hardest thing that I had ever gonethrough in my entire life and the hardest day of my life. Si. I wrote about that same thing. I can picturesitting in the waiting room waiting to board the plane withmy family and my friends that were there to say goodbye. Jared left six months after me. When I left, he was the lastone to hug Rachel, Fiona and I goodbye at the exit of that waiting room as wesobbed our way to the airplane. I had a friend named Ben and he cameover with this bracelet that I’m wearing today. Ben wasat the airport with us too. Saying goodbye to him was brutal. It’s nothingexpensive or made out of gold or silver and he didn’t buy it at a jewelrystore. It’s actually a rubber 0 ring, a seal for a fuel drum that was probablyused to fuel a Mission Aviation Fellowship plane. He gave it to me as a waythat I can remember Indonesia. Most durable braceletsever. As I got on the plane I can remember sitting there as it wastaxiing away down the airstrip and I had tears just flowing down my cheeksbecause I was saying goodbye to everything that I knew. I was saying goodbye tomy family, saying goodbye to my friends, to my home. To the point where if Iwanted to come back and visit I would have to get a visa just to get in thecountry. I remember sitting on that plane and looking at this rubber braceletand feeling like it was the only thing I have left of my childhood… of my timein Indonesia. It’s a very difficult sort of loss andtraumatic goodbye experience to describe since it’s so far from the experienceof most Americans. I did it too. The amazing thing to me is that Jared IS going home.

One of themost precious things that we could get wasAmerican candy. We loved American candy. Yes. As amatter of fact, Jared and my class took our senior trip to Australia mainlywith money we raised selling American candy to the community. Jared bought me a few packets of my favorite - M&Ms. Specificallyfor me, my favorite was reeses peanut butter cups. If I ever got reeses Icherished them highly. They were also my dad’s favorite, so when I got them Icouldn’t leave them out in the open because I knew my dad would find them. Itwas something I had to watch out for. So normally when I got the candy I wouldeat a little and then take the rest to my room and hide it. Now inIndonesia that is a very bad idea. For one thing it’s very hot and anythingthat that you don’t put in the fridge will melt very quickly. But worse thanthat there are a lot of bugs in Indonesia and more than few times I went backto my stash of candy and I opened it up and found the chocolate melted and abunch of ants running around with peanut butter breath. Funny, a missionary recentlywrote about this, complete with photos!

I love it when old friends stay friends

How I worked full time and nursed a baby, and why I'm not sure I'd do it over again

2011-10-02T23:06:00.000-05:00

I just assumed I'd breastfeed. It's by far the best thing for the baby if you can pull it off, it's healthier, cheaper, etc.

And then it just so happens we ended up having a baby in the middle of Isaac going to seminary while we're dependent on my job to pay for school and life and health insurance. We ended up working out a deal where I continued working full time and would work from home while Isaac was in classes.

Enter this bulky beauty:

The top-of-the line Medela breast pump I got at a shower enabled me to successfully feed Judah 100% momma's milk for six months, and to go on without supplementing with formula for eight months. And the truth is that I loved nursing Judah. I'm one of those mommas who could wax eloquent about what a beautiful experience it is to snuggle with your milk-drunk baby, knowing that every roll they add is totally from your nourishment. You are protecting their health, you are bonding....It was time to quiet and bond in the midst of the craziness of infancy and change. Judah fed beautifully from the beginning and adjusting to breast feeding really wasn't painful for me.

However......

1. While I loved nursing, I did not so much love pumping. First off the beauty of feeding a child is reduced to a mechanical process, which mostly makes you feel like a cow. It ain't pretty, people. There's nothing sentimental or sexy about it.

2. Secondly, as I mentioned before, pumping at work is a massive pain. There wasn't a place to go and I ended up being shuttled from empty office to empty office with a door-stopper and an easy-install set of blinds to put over the glass door so I could have some privacy. My work tried hard to keep working out an option for me but it's a pain for everyone involved, me included. If I had back-to-back meetings I'd have a hard time getting some time to get away, and keeping up with a schedule (especially at the beginning) is nearly impossible. Then there's the fact that keeping freezer bags of momma's milk in the fridge is awkward.

3. Speaking of those freezer bags, keeping milk ready for a hungry baby was a pain for daddy at home. It meant he had to think ahead and have a constant cycle of milk thawing and warming. It's not as fast as just mixing up some formula with warm water.

4. It's also hard to sync pumping and nursing. If I'd pumped two hours ago and Judah ate four hours ago, I wouldn't be ready to feed him so he'd need a bottle and I'd have to pump again. So - I fed Judah in person even less than we expected.

5. Baby adjusts to the bottle. While we did great at feeding while I was at home, once I started back at work Judah started to adjust to having a bottle the majority of the time. The fast flow was preferable, and over the months he got less and less patient with waiting for my let-down, sometimes resulting in a screaming baby and definitely NOT a beautiful bonding nursing experience.

6. Supply issues. It's harder to keep up your supply when you're not with your baby. It's a weird hormonal thing, and you have to do things like keep photos of your baby around your office. While of course things were great for months, at about four months my supply started to struggle. I took fenugreek (which makes you smell like maple syrup), ate oatmeal, drank dark beer, and drank lots of water. My supply recovered and my momma friend Katie helped supplement until I was over the slump. However, after that I was always just barely meeting Judah's demand and sometimes not meeting it and relying on the supplement. At 8 months my body just sort of decided it was done, and we bought formula to supplement. Now, two months later, I've got nothing left.

So - given all of those difficulties, it's hard for me to know if it was worth it. I suppose that since I was given a pump (they're expensive!) and got to work all of this for free, it was worth it. After all, Judah was given the health benefits of momma's milk and has only gotten mildly sick once. Sometimes it's just hard for me to remember that when I see how simply the formula is going now (however, $$$!!)

But then again.... by far the best way to kick me back to a weight I haven't been since high school with almost no working out and definitely no dieting? Feed a baby for 8 months.Seriously. I feel so good.

What I'm Into This Month - September 2011

2011-09-30T16:10:00.000-05:00

What I Am Into This Month -September 2011

1. On My Nightstand:
Too Small to Ignore: Wes Stafford
The Road Less Traveled – M. Scott Peck
When Helping Hurts

2. Want to Read: everything. Seriously. I have WAY too much Iwant to read.I am starting a book club and will be reading One Thousand Gifts by Voskamp.

3. T.V. Worth Watching:
Husband has hooked me into Castle and we are almost finished with FridayNight Lights *sniff*. Watched the BBC drama Sherlock this summer and thoroughlyenjoyed it, but there definitely needs to be more where that came from!

4. Movie I've Seen: Umm… I haven’t watched many moviesrecently. One thing I miss doing since Judah’s been born is movie watching.

5. In My Kitchen: There's not a lot of creativity in our kitchen while we juggle school/work/baby, but ever since I made fancy egg salad sandwiches with avocado, Isaac has grown obsessed with egg salad. He seriously eats it at least three times a week. I have discovered fresh mozzarella for the first time and have been eating caprese sandwiches. Nice thick slices of tomato and fresh mozzarella on crusty bread, a little balsamic vinaigrette drizzled over top, lightly toasted? mmmmmm...

6. In My Ears:
1) Mumford & Sons
2) Adele
3) Josh Garrells
(would love the new Gungor cd but... don't own it yet)

7. Bloggy Items of Note/New Blog Reads:

Rachel Held Evans tweeted a link to thisblog about how different Christian denominations perceive each other - inpictures. It made me laugh out loud several times. By the way, Rachel happened to be on NPR last week while I was driving to the grocery store!
Los is one of the funniest tweeters/bloggers I follow, he seems to be many things but among them is a worship leader. What I love most, though, is his family. His family videos crack.me.up.

Dang - the Forney Flyer has been posting a series of his trek through part of Kalimantan. On this post he posted a photo of the jungle and a tree, and it's unremarkable until you realize the little red spot at the bottom of the photo is a person. The root is about the same height the person! The tree is MASSIVE.
I've heard about Jaimie The Very Worst Missionary for ages, but only just recently subscribed. And just in time for a post slamming the way we use short-term missions trips to teach our own kids. It's great. Go read it.

I stumbled onto Carson Clark's blog, Musings of a Hard-lining Moderate and it turns out he's a Moody alum of my own generation. I spent ages last week reading his blog, This post about his faith and theological journey complete with an analysis of the good and bad of Moody was great. I laughed pretty hard at his story of attempting to talk about the gospel with a guy in the ghetto who said, "What the f&*$ are you talking about?" and the homeschooled kid he was with ran away crying, traumatized by his first exposure to the f-word. HILARIOUS and classic and sad. Carson recently joined the Anglican church, and his blogs are well reasoned and blunt without being demeaning.

I absolutely loved this article from Jon Foreman in the Huffington Post.Like... haven't been able to stop thinking about it since, particularly in the context of the death of my friend's father in a plane crash on the mission field. The reality of death makes me ponder how to live life. And so ... I quote extensively:

Which is to say that you are the art. Your words, your haircut, your clothes, your actions -- these display your unique blend of past and present, desire and lack thereof, insecurity and purpose. You are the painting, and everyday you're painting yourself and the world around you.Every moment is a canvas is waiting to come to life....

We are the human race. We are the re-appropriators. But none of us are creating out of nothing. Human creation is always re-appropriation. Trying to put beauty into form.That's what life is. Re-appropriating the scraps we have at hand in an attempt to create something truly magnificent. Crafting timeless beauty out of our own temporal specific circumstances.

You want to know the meaning of life? This is your highest calling: You are called into the dynamic co-creation of the cosmos. This breath is your canvas and your brush. These are the raw materials for your art, for the life you are making. Nothing is off limits. Your backyard, your piano, your paintbrush, your conversation, Rwanda, New Orleans, Iraq, your marriage, your soul. You're making a living with every step you take.When you make a living, you are speaking a new world into existence. You are creating grace within the confines, you are co-signing God's blank checks.

Linking up here: Sorta Crunchy and here: Conversion Diary

On the evolution of family photos

2011-09-27T22:44:00.001-05:00

I was going over old photos last week and chuckling at the progression of our family photos. For instance, lets start with this gem, a classic illustration of the old school "look really formal" portrait. It cracks me up so much - my little popped foot (am I dressed in a curtain?), Jana's sassy hand on her hip, my brother looking like a boy who is dying to get out of the awkward clothes, and then my baby sister Joy. Words cannot describe how much I love Joy in this picture. She was one of the cutest toddlers but her face in this picture is pretty much hysterical. Oh, and Isaac says my dad looks like the guy off of Family Ties.

Then you have the look-at-our-exotic-life-overseas family portrait. I must say, I like it MUCH more than the first one, which just goes to show how much my love of the exotic and informal has taken over all of the traditionally American part of my upbringing. Most of our family photos overseas don't really reveal how much whinging went on by us kids over having to pose for photos. I think I generally had a bad attitude about them until college.

However, family portraits changed when us kids got old enough to influence the process. Or shall we say... preempt the process.

That one was taken with my parents completely unaware of the silent agreement for sabotage that had taken place behind them. They didn't find out until the photos were printed. Needless to say, all of us kids love it.

We did get old enough to behave ourselves, though, and family pictures these days are generally a less painful experience than it was when we were small and half of us pouted through the whole experience. I think we shaped up all right in the end! Can I just say how much more I like our big happy casual family than our prim and average sized family in the first photo?

Do you think we're related?

2011-09-25T06:00:00.000-05:00

I told Isaac to take a look at this photo and he said, "Is that a new one of Judah? Wait... where is that?"

At which point I informed him that it's of me.

At first I had no idea who Judah looked like. Now I see it. Those cheeks, nose, and eyes... are so me.

There's something about his chin and lips that's different. Those eyes though. You think he'll look like this in a couple of years?

Solemn thoughts on the death of Paul Westlund, pilot in Papua

2011-09-23T14:01:00.002-05:00

Today I mourn a death. One of the missions pilots in Papua died in a crash two days ago and we all found out yesterday.

To me, "Uncle" Paul was the father of one of my friends and I mourn for her, for a father lost too young. All the "Aunts" and "Uncles" (who are not really related, but that's what we called all the adults in the expatriate community overseas) feel like family.

I'm humbled and comforted to see the outpouring of love on the Internet from everyone who has been a part of that community over the last 25 years. I see comments from kids that lost their own pilot father a few years ago on the facebook walls of Paul's son. I smiled at Paul's caption on a profile picture: "If you are breathing you should be laughing."

And then I pondered as I read my book The Road Less Traveled how the author is a man so full of powerful life-changing insight, and yet from what I know of his life he never applied it to himself. That's in contrast to uncle Paul Westlund, who was a pretty simple guy who just did his job humbly and with joy and laughter, and yet he was a hero who is honored by all who knew him.

And I think of how we often say the days are gone when going to the mission field meant you were very likely to die of disease or war or some other unnatural cause. And yet - in my years in a small community overseas, I know of an unusually high number of deaths - from malaria, snake bites, plane crashes, car wrecks. It's still true that leaving a home in the West leaves a certain level of security, and most do it because they feel a higher calling. Among the pilots and their families the risks of flying small planes in such rough terrain and weather are ever-present in their minds. Right now I have friends my age headed to or already back in Papua, and I know that they feel that risk very personally. They take it into account as they go.

Uncle Paul made this video a few years back. I've seen it before, and it's simple footage of the work done by the organization he was with in Papua - medical work, Bible translation, community development. I know all the missionaries pictured in that video, and everything pictured is made possible only by the pilots that fly people in and out of those remote villages (there are almost no roads on an island the size of TX). Uncle Paul himself is in the middle of the video, unloading a sick person in a stretcher. The background song is "When It's All Been Said and Done" by Robin Marks (an Irish Christian songwriter), and while it might normally strike me as a stereotypical and slightly cheesy Christian homemade video, the lyrics are so profound knowing that Uncle Paul picked them and that they now hold true for him:

When it's all been said and done
All my treasures will mean nothing
Only what I have done
For love's reward
Will stand the test of time....

I will always sing your praise
Here on earth and in heaven after
For you've joined me at my true home
When it's all been said and done
You're my life when life is gone..."

You can also see an article written a few years ago, A Day in the Life of a Mission Pilot, which was also drawn from a day in Uncle Paul's life.

From another pilot's blog, a post called Muddy Dancing Shoes. There's more in that post that is quite profound, I suggest you read it.

Can you read my favorite verse? Langda 2007

"Paul was without a doubt the most encouraging person I've ever been around.... He would walk into my office with no other purpose than to say a kind word to me...and then leave.

Having worked with Paul for almost 14 years, I can say that he was one of the most upbeat and carefree people I've ever known."

When being a working mother hits home

2011-09-20T21:03:00.000-05:00

There are times when I sink into my work, grappling with how to up the ante, how to streamline processes, think of something that hasn't been thought of yet that needs improvement, how to take an extra weight off of my boss's shoulders, how to help heal some wound, how to invest another ounce of love or vision into that office.

Other days I grapple with the books I'm reading, a recent blog I've discovered that's pushed me to think again about some topic, or about my longing for liturgy, or some philosophical question or counseling methodology. On those days I itch to read and write, to actually have time to process my thoughts and lay them out to interact with others.

But then there are days like today. Today I looked again at my work hours and what my life will look like after Isaac graduates in December when I'm no longer working from home while he's in class. I'll be at work every day all day until we move on to the next thing, which is an unclear path and timeline at this point. On those days when I get home I'll have just a couple of hours between hugging my son hello and kissing him goodnight, and that doesn't even take into account the evenings I have a group event I'm committed to.

My heart aches at that thought - at the hours of the day that will pass with me away. Time passes so quickly when they are small, and while I'm gone he'll be learning to walk, developing interests, working at his play, and generally growing from baby into boy. I won't miss all of it, but I will miss a lot of it. How have fathers done this in the generations past? How have they come home and spent an hour with their children and left again in the morning?

So this afternoon I stopped and listened as Judah delightedly giggled as he banged on the toilet seat. I soaked up the moments in the rocking chair before bed as we played "roly poly" and "round and round the garden" and he squirmed to get away from my tickling fingers. When he bumped his head I swooped him up and kissed his cheek and waited until the offended cries died down. He's mine, my son, I reserve my right to defend my time with him.

9 Month Old Antics

2011-09-17T22:45:00.000-05:00

I just mentioned how awesome this age is, right? I love 9 months old.

Not only is it total cuteness to watch his mobility and adventurousness increase by the week.....

He's SO proud of himself when he climbs up on anything

He also is gaining a sense of humor. Like say.... the daily regime of going down for bed, smashing against the mesh of his pac-n-play, and making us giggle with his hilarious faces.

So sweet too, though. Nose kisses with Daddy:

He's pretty much the cutest thing in the world.

He is also that kid that cries and cries and cries when you put him into childcare. We try to leave him in childcare to go to church or other events over at church, and they've had to call me out to pick him up every.single.time. I am a softie. I hate seeing him sad. Thus... I hate leaving him in childcare and actually wait anxiously until they call me out (which at this point I know is coming), and then I jump up to gladly rescue him. Why do I keep putting myself through this? Because I know he's got to learn to be with people other than us eventually!

This was a few weeks ago when the crawling was new - I love that he bites the dust about every foot, but he does it with a massive smile on his face.

And more recently, Judah's favorite "ball" that he chases around:

7 Quick Takes

2011-09-16T17:00:00.000-05:00

1. Two blogs that I have been loving recently. First, Brice and Bry in Cairo.
I met these two before they were married and they've transplanted to Cairo. I just love how adventurous their life is right now.
I've linked to Lisa McKay before. I read one of her books that was set in Indonesia and reviewed it on here, and when she commented on my review I found her blog! Since then she moved to Laos and she recently had a baby. She is never one to gush and always one to make a witty crack at whatever happens to be going on in her life.

2. I just finished my second Rohinton Mistry (an Indian author) book, Family Matters. His book A Fine Balance is on my list of all-time favorite reads and this book was also great. I think Mistry is like an Indian Dickens, weaving together story lines that highlight the political and social problems they are set in. The characters are funny and distinct. He's quite a tragic writer though - there is a brutal realism, and my one objection to him is when it slips into depression rather than helpful realism.

3. I forgot to link up when my friend Clare interviewed me about makeup and skin care, of all things! I'm no expert, but she is and we are childhood friends. Click on the link to see more of her reviews and tips!

4. From makeup to diapers. Hah. My life is so all over the place. Judah has always had sensitive skin that reacts to everything. This month we started battling diaper rash for the first time. We bought some cheap diapers when we were waiting for our regular shipment from amazon.com, and he majorly flared up. Then he got a rash all over his trunk that is itchy and bumpy. He looks like he has one nasty skin disease at the moment! So - facebook gave me lots of suggestions yesterday, but mommas, what's your magic diaper or any kind of rash cure?

5. I've sort of been transitioning from facebook to twitter. I like that friends and family are on f-book, but it's such a wiiiide range of people. So, if I sarcastically joke with friends, someone in another circle might totally misinterpret them. Between many of my friends using facebook less and the fact that it's become a strain to make sure I'm not misrepresented, I'm less likely to interact on there. Twitter, on the other hand, has become a great way to interact with the online writing world. At first I just didn't get it - wasn't it just facebook with only the status updates? No, it's interacting with people in the topics that interest you.
twitter over fbook

6. This week I got caught up with the latest Over the Rhine album. My favorite song is a long one, the autobiographical story of their relationship. It's honest, and haunting, and melancholy. Infamous Love Song.

7. My husband turned in his rough draft of his thesis. The end is in sight. The four years have been long and short at once. I'm so proud of him! By the way..... he asked me the summarize my blog post on 9/11 for him because it was too long for him to read. Hah! Says the man who reads multiple books like Exegetical Fallacies per week. I tell you what - they either do long and dense or quick quips, but nothing in between. He can't even read a news article - goes straight to the news videos.

A TCK Wedding

2011-09-14T12:39:00.000-05:00

Today we discuss the tck wedding. I shall generalize freely. "TCK" stands for Third Culture Kid - those of us that grew up overseas and have a strange mix of our parent's home culture and culture we grew up in that makes a unique "third" culture.

In my gang of friends, weddings are reunions. For me, my old friends and their families are like my own extended family. I desperately wish I lived near them all, but alas they are scattered across the world. I LOVE it when someone gets engaged because it means I might get to go to the wedding and simultaneously celebrate the union of people I love and also see precious old friends.

Here's a few key things about a tck wedding, reflecting the wedding I got to be a part of this summer in London.

a) multiculturalism. We gather friends and family from around the world. So many different cultures represented. There was a marriage rap from a London kid. Scottish family. Friends from Korea. American servicemen. Singaporean family.

b) tck setup crew. Since we all interact as extended family, tcks tend to come to weddings with the mentality of being part of the work crew. We prep, setup, decorate, cleanup, whatever is needed! It's never just a wedding you attend, but I like being a part of the family!

c)uniqueness. When you grow up in an unconventional way, that uniqueness is inevitably expressed in the wedding. Every wedding is different, but it's always there!

Rachel, accountability partner in high school, valedictorian of my class (except we had three valedictorians. They had identical GPAs), teammate on the school basketball team (I sucked), and fellow lover of discussion and adventure was the bride at this wedding. I love her entire family, and I love their world in England.

And so it was wonderful, so wonderful, to be with old friends.

It was wonderful to again see Rach's world in England and her friends that I recognize from all different stages of her life

To enjoy such a beautiful and creative wedding and reception:

And to be a witness to something as important as marriage vows. Rachel was beautiful.

Can I just say that Rach's 90-year old Scottish grandfather is my hero? How amazing is he?

My family history is Scottish and there's a castle somewhere in northwest Scotland still owned by my clan. With that in mind, I find hanging out with this Scottish family delightful.

Scottish dancing at the reception? So much fun to watch. Even the 90-year old grandfather is in there!

Grappeling with national tragedy as a cultural outsider

2011-09-11T21:15:00.001-05:00

When 9/11 happened and I watched panic, terror, and shock grip so many people around me, I confused at first. Why was everyone so freaked out? It was a tragedy, but people didn't react with the same level of panic, terror, and shock when the tsunami hit Asia a few years later. 230,000 people died in Asia. 3,000 people died on Sept. 11th. Before you tell me I'm insensitive to the level of tragedy, hear me out.

Both at the time and now, I think 9/11 shattered this feeling of safety and security that many Americans had. The rest of the world was a dangerous place, but we think (or have thought) that our civil society is safe. Thus 9/11, even if most people weren't personally connected to anyone who was injured or killed, felt like a blow to the emotional psyche of America. People felt vulnerable, afraid, unstable. They had no paradigm to put it in. It was deeply personal. It changed a lot of how people think around here.

At the time I couldn't relate to that for a couple of reasons. First off, I was brand new in the US and I grew up without that sense of security that Americans grew up with. Some of my good friends evacuated a nearby island in the midst of riots. Our car was burned in riots. Soon after Sept. 11th much of the "downtown" of my "hometown" overseas was burned. News of natural disasters and attacks were common enough that they were always sad but also felt like.... life. That's the way life is. We are all vulnerable. No amount of wealth or security is going to make us invulnerable. I think that's actually a healthy thing for Americans to realize - feeling invulnerable is believing a facade.

And so I was truly confused by the total sense of instability that hit my classmates at Moody after 9/11.
However, I also didn't understand the magnitude of the attack. I saw it as a couple buildings being brazenly destroyed. As Brett said in his blog, I sort of pictured a little Cessna flying into a building, not really realizing either the size of the plane, the hijacking, or the immensity of the WTC. It wasn't until someone told me that the scale of the attack and the deaths involved surpassed Pearl Harbor that I realized how massive this was for the USA. I knew Pearl Harbor was huge for us - an attack on our soil, many deaths, and I was shaken to realize that this was bigger.

Thirdly, I think my disassociation from the emotion of it all shows my lack of ownership in my own identity as an American. I mentioned the tsunami earlier. That tsunami devastated parts of Indonesia. How did Americans react to it? I think most of them watched the footage on TV and were sobered and saddened, they prayed for the victims, maybe donated money. However, it didn't hit home as a personal loss, it didn't shake your home personally. That's how 9/11 felt for me. It happened to the USA. That didn't feel personal because.... I felt very much like an "other" looking in on this tragedy that was happening to a nation that I wasn't a part of. I felt sympathy and sadness, but not ownership in the tragedy. I still struggle a bit with that. I read the stories, I realize how big this tragedy was, how sad, something to mourn.... and I recognize that I didn't mourn.

Bret McCracken's blog about 9/11 says this: (go read it, the whole thing is good!)

Beyond terrorism, we watched as natural disasters unfolded in unprecedented ways: Katrina’s destruction and its accompanying politics, the Asian tsunamis, the Haiti earthquake, etc. We watched the stock market collapse in a week. We watched wars unfold in the Middle East. We watched unemployment rise and the recession linger.

Am I a member of the “9/11 Generation?” I don’t know. But the day certainly altered my view of the world. 9/11 happened two weeks into my college career, two weeks into my life as an independent adult. The post-9/11 world has been my paradigm of adult life. And what does that mean for me?

I think it means that no calamitous event really surprises me anymore. It’s expected. The Norway shooter from a few months ago? Egregious. Evil. But entirely expected. Countries like Iceland going completely broke? Of course....But 10 years after 9/11, the world is still coping, still hoping, still working, still here. Just as 10 years after Rome fell, the world pressed on, and a generation after the Plague wiped out half of Europe, people still laughed.

I, like Bret, watched 9/11 two weeks into my college career. I woke up late and went running through the Moody Commons to my Personal Evangelism class. There was a TV on in Commons as I ran past and I saw a photo of a hole and a fire in one of the Twin Towers. I thought it was a movie and continued on the class, not thinking anything of it.

When I got to class some of my classmates informed me that the movie I thought I'd seen was real and that a plane had flown into one of the WTC towers. Students were praying, everyone was somber. I wasn't sure what to make of it. The professor never came so we left. I went with my good friend Canada Dave to the lobby of his dorm to keep watching footage on their tv.

It was huddled around that TV that I saw the second tower fall.

At that point the city of Chicago was evacuating the big buildings around us and my own 10 story dorm was evacuated. Students were scattered across campus, crying, praying, etc. In my emotional disassociation I spent the afternoon hanging out with friends that also hadn't grown up in the US. That evening my friend Mandy and I took advantage of the empty streets and went rollerblading through the downtown, actually past the Sears Tower that was also rumored to be targetted. 10 years later and much more personally for me, Mandy is gone.

I will never forget that day, never forget the all-school chapel that was called an hour later and the words Dr. Stowell spoke about where God is in the midst of tragedy. I remember standing on the WTC years before, looking over NY. I now also remember the day Bin Laden was killed. History marches on. Tragedies and redemption keep happening.

It only ends once.

Josh Garrells talks about Love

2011-09-08T15:50:00.000-05:00

Probably my very favorite musician for the last couple years has been Josh Garrells. Nowhere else have I found the same level of musicality, artistic risk, lyrical depth, and unapologetic faith. Of course, with that mix he has to be an independent artist. Oh, and it helps that his wife grew up overseas with a history an awful lot like mine.

In any case, Josh's blog linked to this video. I have been thinking about it so much because what he says is so in line with what we're experiencing as well. It's Josh answering an interview question about what love is. His answer is multifaceted.

Josh Garrels IN:5 // Love from IN:5 on Vimeo.

My instinctive answer is the same as his, and then I stop as he does, because the reality around me is so far removed from the definition I believe in.

"I have been, in some ways, afraid of writing songs about love.... I have been almost like, 'I don't want to go there'. I'm in this time of life where a lot of friends are getting divorced. A lot of friends are walking away from the faith. There's love kind of like... tearing apart, you know?"

Indeed. How many times have I laid awake, wrestling with how the breaking is possible? How many times recently have I cried in anger or cried at the pain? Love - tearing apart.

"Love feels more potent to me than it ever has before because I have this darkness to contrast it to."

Is this a "religious" blog?

2011-09-06T06:00:00.001-05:00

I just have to be honest. I have a hard time knowing how to write a blog as a Christian that is not about my Christianity. I started out with a separate blog to write about the questions of faith I was wrestling with - and I still write there when I'm writing about something specifically theological or political. This blog is more about the day to day, and I figured people could read this one without having to deal with theological or political debates. I did that because I have a lot of friends that I know want to keep up with my life that don't like to debate.

But increasingly - I feel like I say SO much that is "religious" on this blog, and to be quite frank, I know that pushes people away. I have friends that are atheist or agnostic, and random readers that stop by that are interested in recipes or mothering or traveling overseas will read those posts and think, "Oh, it's one of those Christian blogs..." and stop reading.

That's okay - if they were looking for a blog on just one topic and they find my blog is about a number of things they're not interested, I understand. It's not so different than what someone would do if they were interested in traveling and started seeing my posts on Papua or visiting China or South Asia, subscribed, and then ended up with a lot of my posts on daily life as a mother. They'd think, "Oh, it's a mommy blog... uninterested..." and off they go.

I'm not interested in preaching from this blog. It's not a blog specifically about faith. It is, however, a blog about my life. My life includes mothering, cooking, traveling, being a wife, adjusting to US/TX culture, church, reading, etc. Because my faith is a worldview and presupposition that colors everything in my, that is going to be reflected in most of what I do and write about. It informs what I believe about marriage, what Isaac and I want to do with our lives, how I parent, etc.

So, to some extent, I am resigned. I cannot take faith out of a blog about my daily life, nor do I want to. I don't want to push any of you away either, and I welcome you to read even if you don't agree or can't relate. I really appreciate people who continue to read despite not being Christians. What I want to avoid is being the kind of person that is so wrapped up in my particular religious culture that I cannot comprehend the perspective of or relate to someone outside of my culture. It is my faith, not my culture. I am a Christian within my culture.

Motherhood Notes - Such a Boy

2011-09-04T06:00:00.000-05:00

I love this age. It's my favorite since the newborn completely precious helplessness.

As I type Judah is attempting eat an orange peel and the speaker cord - simultaneously.

It took foreeeeeever to get to the sitting up and eating solids stage, but once he hit it he quickly moved to crawling and then pulling up. The transition this month has distinctly made him far more like a little boy.

He is SUCH a boy. He loves cars and climbing and and is such a busy little guy that just somehow oozes "boy" to me. He's so active!

The great thing is that with the development into a little boy, he's also able to start expressing love and affection. The ability even just to crawl to us and then climb up and reach for us expresses that he wants to be with us and is so heartwarming. If I head to the bathroom and then find that he's followed me and is sitting at my feet on the floor, I know he wanted to be with me.

The other day I was laying on the floor and he crawled to me, propped himself up so that he was looking down at my face, and then mashed his little face against mine. So cute - the Judah version of a kiss. I could just eat him up.

He definitely expresses emotion. Excitement when daddy is coming to get him. Anger when we pull him away - again - from the computer keyboard he so desperately wants to bang on. He giggles and gets frustrated and intensely curious and quietly sweet. He's wiggly and active, but I still love those moment right after a nap or in the morning when he first wakes up and just snuggles for a little bit.

I also love that this age is really scheduled. He gets up around the same time every day, he naps twice for a long time (and any sort of outing in the day inevitably interrupts either a nap or bedtime and results in a grumpy baby), and he goes to bed at the same time. He eats regularly and we know how much he eats. I can finally anticipate what's coming next at any point in the day.

And he's still got those soft baby rolls and big blue eyes. These pictures are old - from my newly recovered photo stash that I lost late in the spring.

(why yes, that is Michael Scott in the background ruining the moment. With how much of "The Office" Isaac watches, I think Judah may grow up thinking of Michael Scott as a member of the family.)

Five Minute Friday: Rest

2011-09-02T15:32:00.001-05:00

Five Minute Friday is a five-minute free writing blog linkup hosted by Gypsy Mama here. The word of the day is "Rest".

When I was in college I babysat for a mom in Chicago who had two little girls. The marriage was on the rocks and the girls were undisciplined, and outwardly the woman had an enviable lifestyle but inwardly she was obviously grasping at straws to find some stability and emotional health.

Once when I was with them the girls asked to read the book The Giving Tree, obviously knowing that their mom would react to it. She read it and when she got to the end she read it through tears, and from the girls' reactions it was obvious that she always did. The book is a book about a tree that loves this little boy. The boy is with the tree and plays on and in the tree, but over the course of the book you realize that relationship is a one-way relationship - the tree keeps giving and the boy keeps taking. At the end the tree is an empty stump.

This sweet mom came to tears because the book was symbolic to her of her life as a mother and wife - giving and giving and feeling like no one was giving back and that she increasingly had nothing left to give. Isn't that how so many of us feel?

That's why our society loves moving like Eat Pray Love - we feel like we're used, we're unhappy, and finally we have to sit back and fill ourselves up. I doesn't fill up, though, everything passes and then we are empty again.

You're probably wondering where all this is going and how it relates to the five minute friday word, "rest". Rest reminds me of all of this because I relate to it all now. I am a wife, a mother, I work full-time, currently several of my very close friends are in chaos, and so.... it's easy to be drained.

And then I remember "The Giving Tree" and how I told my mom about the crying mother's reaction to the story. My mom got serious and (as a wife and mother of six) said that it's true, as a mother you are somewhat like the giving tree in the story, but the difference is that as a believer, as a Christian, you never give without filling back up. The Holy Spirit in us is what fills us and fuels our giving. We are never empty. We love with His love, which is unlimited.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest"

In years past - snippets of six years of blogs on this day

2011-08-29T23:14:00.003-05:00

Since Isaac started classes today, it was a quiet evening at home after I put Judah to bed. I was browsing the internet and thinking about where we're at now and I got the urge to look back at the things I've written on this day (or close to this day) in years past. It's fascinating.

2010 - pregnant
I've been driving without an AC all summer - sweating it out and attempting to plan and strategize for the fastest way to get from place to place, always parking in the shade if at all possible, and nearly dying when I was caught in traffic and left sweltering. Yesterday my current boss mentioned that it's been the hottest summer in Dallas that he's experienced since he moved here in 1981, that's before I was born! Just my luck that the heat wave arrives the summer I am here and without AC and pregnant.
Okay, so this summer has been FAR worse. Sad day. BUT, I have AC. Happy day.

2009 - newly living with roommates
Isaac started seminary again this week, and his stress level is sky-high. Last week before school started he cooked dinner one night (that never happens). As I was dishing my food up he went and settled in his easy chair, clearly very pleased with himself, and said, "Man, it sure is nice to see me contributing more around here." Hah!

2008:
We are in deep Texas summer. August is to Texas what February is to Chicago. My first year in Chicago I never complained about the cold. It was a wonderful change. Yes, it was brutal, but it didn't bother me. After six years of it, I thought I was going to die if I had to suffer through another winter. I expect that after a few more years here, I'll be dying to go to a more temperate region!

That is true. I am dying to get away from the heat.

Tonight Isaac and I went on a date to my favorite area of Dallas. We hit up an amazing Chinese spot - and I don't usually even like Chinese! I suppose that's because most Chinese I've had in the US is fast-food and Americanized, and barely goes beyond orange chicken (with very little chicken underneath the orange). This place rocked, and afterwards we stopped next door and picked up a Hong-Kong style milk tea with bubbles, which pretty makes me the happiest woman alive tonight.
Weird. We just went to the same bubble tea place a couple days ago.And now I feel like I do actually know what good Chinese food tastes like.

What am I still doing in the US? I know what I'm doing here. We're gettin' educated. And I'm ok with that. I guess it just scares me, to realize that I've been in this country now for seven years. And I've got three more to go. It scares me because I think I might get stuck. What we're doing now is to equip us, but once that's finished, we're off! Out into the wide world and away from the expectations of settling down to a white-picket fence. I don't want a fence. I don't want to own a house. I don't want to own a set of china or spend my life growing a retirement fund. If I were to do that, I think I could be comfortable, but also empty.
So we gotta get out of here. Out of the American life. Exploring a new place. Confronting the rawness and discomfort that is life in the third world.
Indeed. I mostly still echo this, except perhaps with less bitterness towards America.

2007 - new to Dallas:
The guys I work for have deeply impressed me. Their approach to faith, to work, to relationships... it's all so refreshing. One guy has a degree in law, knows some Indonesian, left the mission field with a deteriorating neurological disease, and has Dostoevsky, Sartre, Nietzsche, and many others on his shelf. Yay for intelligent people. Funny. Same guy just led my meeting today. Still highly respect these guys.

.... I told Isaac how I didn’t like Dallas and I was lonely and ended up in tears…. And after both venting we felt a lot better and went to work out and afterwards were inspired and jumped into the pool outside the workout room fully clothed. Funny again. We're back in the same complex, swimming in the same pool every other day.

Living with laundry, a trash disposal, a dishwasher, a workout room, and a pool all at our fingertips makes daily life much more simple then Chi-town. This apartment is the best part of life here so far. 2nd time around, I still love this complex. :)

2006 - working in Chicago
I am not a salesperson, so I can't relate to how sales driven this company is. I have no objection to our profit margin decreasing. In my mind that's helping the consumer, and this company is not in dire need of a profit. The emphasis on making more money is completely alien to my nature. I long to see that I'm touching someones' life, that I've had a true heart-to-heart interaction with someone. It's the counseling influence in my life - I feel like the value of a person totally sinks in this atmosphere. Interesting. I am not working a "counseling" position at all, but feel very fitted to my current administrative role.

Photo from August '06 blog post - me and co-workers helping run a massive catering event in which Elton John and a million dollar fireworks show was the entertainment.

2005 - Newly graduated, newly married
Dr. Easley talked about the Church being Christ's presence here, and that's where we take refuge.I don't know, it just was bugging me, the subject of the church. Christianity, yeah. Individual faith, yeah. Friendships, yeah. But you know what, as for a local church, I don't know that I've ever felt like that was my refuge. Wish I had a community of faith to guide me. Wow, in this area I have been transformed. My idea of what the "church" is and why it is important has been formed in a huge way, and I DO feel like I have a community of faith that has guided and pushed me.

(Venting after a co-worker told me the honeymoon stage would pass and I would learn to resent my marriage): ...marriage is a responsibility not weighted by feelings. You are not sweet to your wife/husband because you feel romantic, you are RESPONSIBLE to be sweet to them regardless of your feelings or their response. Therefore when the honeymoon stage passes, you can't stop caring. You vowed a heck of a lot in that ceremony, you are responsible to follow through with that for life. I feel too young to have a leg to stand on when I preach my views on dating, romance, and marriage, and yet they are STRONG.
Preach it, self. You didn't have a leg to stand on, but six years later I still believe and preach the same thing.And, FYI, you married a pretty great guy.

Grandparent love

2011-08-27T06:00:00.000-05:00

One of the things that I love about being a parent is to watch our parents love Judah. I'm only just beginning to understand the unique relationship between grandparents and grandkids. It's something I mostly missed out on from growing up overseas.

If we end up across continents from our parents, I want to be really intentional about keeping our kids in touch with their grandparents. It's easier with the internet. We do this:

That's Judah talking to Grandpa and Grandma in England via skype. Love it. For ages he clearly had no idea what was happening when we were skyping, but now he gets excited and smiles when people talk to him. It's just sort of confusing because then he also thinks that some netflix tv shows that daddy watches are also talking to him.

Really, though, we long for those moments when we DO get to see the grandparents. It was precious to be with Isaac's parents.

Five Minute Friday: Older

2011-08-26T12:38:00.000-05:00

Five Minute Friday is a five-minute free writing blog linkup hosted by Gypsy Mama here. The word of the day is "Older".

My Dad was always traumatized by each new stage of growing older. He made a huge deal out of getting glasses, balding, etc. He was insistent at all times that he was, “still a young man.” It made great fodder for much family teasing, and my mom always rolled her eyes and said she didn’t know why getting older was such a big deal for him!

This morning I brought Judah into the bedroom and he crawled around between Isaac and I, giggling and smiling at our tickles. I told Isaac it was just so strange to realize that I am old enough to be married and have a little person wiggling around in our bed.

It is surreal. I think that I have grown up in Dallas. Chicago was my young adult stage, right in line with my whole generation that extends the qualities of adolescence much further into adulthood than previous generations. Coming to Dallas was a huge change, a hard one, but here I have gone from feeling like I am 18 to feeling like an adult. People no longer tell me I look like I’m 17 and I have a lightening streak of silver in my hair. We are an established married couple rather than newlyweds. I have a normal, stable full-time job and I know how to do things like jump a car, transfer a 401k account, and delay jury duty. I have a child. I have my own stash of recipes that I like and can cook comfortably.

I am older. Not old, but older.

And you know? I’m totally okay with that. I’m okay with the silver hair and responsibilities and adulthood. It’s comfortable.

Do I really want my son to be like me?

2011-08-23T06:00:00.000-05:00

The truth is that your children are going to be a lot like you. For better or for worse, they will follow the patterns you set before them. You are the model in whose image your children will be shaped in their most formative years. You need to be who you want them to be.

Geez. How scary/convicting is that?
That's from a study I've been doing called Effective Parenting in a Defective World by Chip Ingram. The first section that talks about modeling absolutely floored me, and I went back and read it several days in a row. Do we really ponder that our kids are essentially growing in our likeness? Of course I want him to be like me in some ways, in all the ways I like myself. But I think we all tend to picture our kids conveniently without the flaws we really don't want to think about in our own lives.

*Side note - I was floored by reading the study, and then Isaac and I watched a DVD talk of the same section. I could barely pay attention at all, and Isaac was riveted and just as convicted as I had been by the reading. SUCH different learning styles.

I mean, really. Do I want Judah to talk the way I talk? Do I want him to drive the way I drive, eat and drink like me, watch the shows I watch, handle money like me, balance work and rest the way I do, and handle anger and suffering the way I do? Is the way I worship, pray, steward, give, and love the way I want Judah to be?

No.
At least, not to all those thing.

And if that's true, that I want him to be different than me, then I need to identify the areas that I want him to be different then me and I need to learn to be different.

The truth is that the more or less passionately I follow Christ, the more or less passionately Judah will most likely follow Christ.

Chip gives hope as well, though, because the point is not to spiral into some, "I'm not a good enough parent/person" pattern. None of us will ever be perfect, nor will our children. One of the very best things that we can model and teach our kids is what to do with failure and mistakes. Our kids need to see how a godly person handles it when they blow it, because those kids will certainly blow it too. In Chip's words, "When children see change in their parents, it gives them hope that their failures aren't final either."

Authenticity is the goal. I need to demonstrate in my own life what it means to repent, confess, humbly accept responsibility for mistakes, and ask for forgiveness. Do I do that? Or do I avoid facing my mistakes or being confronted, rationalize how and why it all happened, and hope everyone forgets about it? Do I model what it is to actually change and grow?

I've been sitting back and thinking a lot the past few weeks about the things that I really don't want Judah to learn from me - because those are things I really need to work on in my own life.

For instance - I have struggled with some odd blend of introversion, social awkwardness, and insecurity in crowds and with new people. And, lets be honest, sometimes just with anyone. I don't care what social group or personality my kid ends up with, but I want him to be at ease with himself. The thing is, it's not the awkwardness that is the problem. It's the self-focus. If I enter a room and am consumed by thoughts of how I appear, what people think of me, what I need to say next or who to talk to, it's an entirely self-focused internal dialogue. Sad. I want Judah.... and me.... to enter a room and see others. If I and/or he are introverted, that's fine. But introverted and in loving focus on the people around.... that's the goal.

I want us to go from being mediocre stewards of money to really excellent stewards of money who are proactive rather than reactive in our finances.

I want him to be confident enough that he is willing to be the bad guy when it is called for, even when it means people won't like him.

Am I willing to change?

Yes, I Chopped Off All My Hair

2011-08-21T06:00:00.001-05:00

I did it. (No, the photo below is not of my new haircut. Keep reading).

I've been dying for a change in my hair. I've never done much of anything adventurous with my hair and although I like that it's dark and thick, I just get tired of the same thing all the time. The best hair cut I've ever gotten was this one (to the left), which was fantastic. However, because my hair is SO thick, it poofed. It has to be straightened, and that takes work.Only when styled by stylists did it look this sleek.

I've been envying curly hair but mine doesn't stay curled no matter what. So, I considered a perm, and despite all warnings of 80's hair, I got my heart set on it. Then I looked at setting an appointment and ... perms are expensive. So I waited. And waited. And eventually just made an appointment for a trim.

And then Amy over at A Chase After The Wind got a pixie cut. It was adorable. I was intrigued. I'd always thought that pixie cuts only looked good on little triangle faces, not round or square faces (I have a round face). After thinking about it about one day, I decided... heck with the trim, lets try the pixie cut! Isaac had told me to do it before and I'd always dismissed the thought, thinking it would look terrible on me. Besides, this is one of two celebrities elected as my dopelganger, and I love short hair on her:

So, I went in to the Aveda Salon school (yes, I went to a school to get a dramatic cut. I am crazy), with this picture as my main guide.

I was SO nervous. I told them I didn't want it to be spikey short. I wanted length. I told myself I would not react for two days. Time for the hair to adjust, me to adjust to the hair, etc.

When the hair was wet, it was great. When they blow dried it it went "poof" and looked like a mushroom. Actually I laughed and said I looked like Justin Bieber. I wasn't worried by that, though, because my hair always poofs and stylists never know how to tame it.

So, after two days I was getting some extremely positive reactions and some that go, "Hey, you cut your hair!"..... long silence. You know, where they don't fill in with, "I love it!" because they don't love it. For some people that's because they like long hair on women, and for some it was just such a drastic cut it took a while to get used to it, and some truly didn't like it. While I liked the short, having the extra length on top with such thick hair again ended up with a lot of "poof", so I was always using headbands, etc.

Sometimes it looked good.
Sometimes it didn't.

When it was time for a trim, I told them to take the length off. Just a pixie cut,.
I LOVE it now. No blow drying. No straightening. Just a little hair wax to set it in place and I'm off for the day. It's SO easy. It feels sassy. I get asked several times a week where I get my hair cut.

Five Minute Friday: New

2011-08-19T13:19:00.000-05:00

This is the very first time I'm joining up with The Gypsy Mama in her Friday free writing feature called Five Minute Friday. Each week she picks a word and on Friday you have five minutes to free write about that word. No backspacing or editing. Just writing.

The word this week is "New", and you can go here to read others.

This year so much is new for me. I have a new baby. I am new at motherhood. I have a new role at my job. We are looking at new possibilities for work overseas.

Sometimes things that are new scare me. They hold the potential for so many negative things. They hold potential for positives too, but I'm a calculated person, and risk makes me wary of the new. At least with the old I know what the positives and negatives are.

In this case, though, the new is all exciting. It's a wonderful stage of life, and I breathe it in because you can't hold onto it. New quickly becomes normal and then old. When the new is hard, the reality that it will pass is a blessing. When the new is wonderful, I swim in it, I drink it in.

And right now, as I walk with friends through some pretty dark things, I think of that promise, "Behold, I make all things new."

What a song that is. Like Spring for the whole universe.

Thoughts on going where the need is

2011-08-18T06:00:00.001-05:00

It's strange to be in this place after so many years of waiting. We are actually investigating options about what's next in our lives.

It's a dillemna. I've blogged before about my need for more training in order to truly counsel well. I still believe that. I also can't see how I can possibly get more training right now. Since Isaac would be entering his field for the first time, he'll probably not be making much, certainly not enough to pay for both me getting a graduate degree and putting Judah in childcare. I also just don't want to put Judah in childcare.

I get opposite responses to that. Some people absolutely think I should be home with him, and I get a subtle pressure from that side at all times. I resist it slightly, because while being at home with a kid is great, I don't want motherhood to result in me throwing away nurturing God-given gifts and other vocations. However, I don't think it's either/or. I will be able to get training. I will be able to do it in a few more years, after little people are a little bigger. I don't want to miss this stage any more than I already am, when they are tiny and only with us and growing and being formed with such speed.

We've always intended to work overseas. I counsel and mentor. Isaac is a theology teacher. These are fields that are absolutely full in the US. If you look at the demand for theology professors versus supply in the US, it's just ridiculous. If either one of us were offered a job in our field and turned it down, there'd be 15 other people waiting in line behind us. On the other hand, there are many countries around the world where the church has absolutely exploded in size and the need for training and mentoring and counseling is immense. That's where we'd like to go.

And why not go? I've written before about my angsty thoughts on not having a default home. Unlike most people, leaving the US isn't a massive jump because we didn't grow up here, it really isn't home to us. We feel rootless. Sure, we'd love to be with family, but family is scattered anyways. So, if you have no home that you are connected to, why not go to where the need is, which is generally places that many other people can't or won't go to?

It's not, for us, about this sense of mysterious calling. Isaac is called to teach. I'm called to discipleship. We're called to each other, and to our children. That is our calling. Where we fulfill that calling feels quite free.
It's also not about taking all of our cultural superiority to the deprived masses somewhere else in the world. That's b.s. To be quite frank, there is a cultural richness in most places around the world that our industrialized and relationally shallow Western society is missing. For me there is certainly a desire to leave here because it's never been home. I don't want that to be my reason for going, though. Those emotions are there, but if we don't have a better reason for leaving then I will most certainly burn out when it turns out wherever we end up isn't home either.

So - we've been investigating. Where are there schools that need teachers? As I wrote, it's discouraging to see education being abandoned in many missions circles. We've been talking to one organization, though, that has schools around the world, still. In fact, it has schools in many places we're interested in. We told them just to send our information to all the schools and see who responds. That way we'll find out who actually has need.

It's downright exciting. I have no idea where this process will take us or how long it will take, I just know that I'm thrilled it's finally here.

Visiting Dublin - Photo Blog!

2011-08-16T06:00:00.000-05:00

We only had two days in Dublin, so unfortunately we didn't get to see any of the rest of Ireland. Our intent was to take advantage of being so close to a school that we'd consider teaching at (Irish Bible Institute) and take a cheap trip over to investigate. Our extra time was taken up investigating Dublin. It's a charming little expensive city and we had absolutely gorgeous weather. The photos below are half mine and half from flikr. Click on the photo to find the photographer!

Actually, this song (The Dublin Saunter) is pretty descriptive!

It was for Isaac probably what visiting Canada is like for an American, or Malaysia for an Indonesian. Different but also so culturally close that it's very comfortable. We walked Grafton Street:

There were, by the way, absolutely gorgeous flowers for sale on the street:

Saw St. Stephen's Green:

Wandered over the river Liffey

I admired Ha' Penny Bridge, which has a unique history:

Dublin's version of the Millennium Dome - the Spire. Does every city have a tacky piece of turn of the millennium architecture?

We wandered around the suburb we stayed in, Ranelagh. It's preppy and pretty and I loved the stereotyipcalness of it all. Dublin is known for its doors.

We did one tour - Dublin Castle. It gives you an overview of the history of Ireland from the center of government. Lots of interesting stuff there!

I loved the murals on the ceiling of the State hall. This one is of St. Patrick arriving in Ireland.

That's Judah and I at the bottom of this photo:

Also - side note. Grafton Street is filled with street performers. This guy cracks me up. Apparently he's there all the time, dressed as though he's being blown away by the wind. If you put a coin in his cup, he drops his briefcase.

What Isaac MOST wanted to do was visit here:

This is the Chester Beatty Library. Beatty was some rich guy who collected just about anything that caught his eye. Our interest was in the religious section, particularly the New Testament Papyri. Beatty collected some of the oldest papyri of Paul's writings in existance, actually from less than 200 years after Paul lived. It is just insane to sit there looking at frayed papyrus of nearly all of Paul's books, one after another. Isaac can read of it (that's what we've been paying for these past four years!), and to me, to know these were passed from church to church and read and taught... amazing.

For me, though, the best part is what I love doing everywhere. I love wandering the streets, finding a little local spot, enjoying the food and chatting with the locals. In Dublin, that was Gammells.

We popped in for dinner because everywhere else was closing.
It was perfect. It gave Isaac a chance to buy all the pastries he loved when he worked at a bakery as a teen in England.

They offered steak and kidney pie, mince pies, bangers and mash, Irish stew, sausage rolls, pasties, quiche, of course tons of cookies and scones and other pastries. Also interesting to me - they came across like a coffee shop and we enjoyed the tea, but they also served wine.

The guy behind the counter was Chinese and obviously a new immigrant. I started chatting with him about our trip to China last summer and a guy sitting next to us joined in. He was a scruffy tall drink of water with a very dry sense of humor who had us absolutely rolling with his comments on Chinese culture. Turns out he was actually Mr. Gammell, the owner! It quickly came out that I also grew up in Asia. Mr. Gammell was giving his employee a hard time at one point and asked us if we knew that they eat cats in China. I told them that my neighbors ate my dog in Indonesia (true story). Mr. Gammell was absolutely flabbergasted. He couldn't stop talking about it. We came in two days later before heading off to the airport and he was still talking about it. So funny. They also fawned over Judah and sent us home with a bag full of free pastries. SO nice. If all Irish folk are as funny and hospitable as Mr. Gammell, wow. What a country.

Latest Good Reads

2011-08-14T09:54:00.000-05:00

I've been reading. I brought books to read on vacation and didn't even finish one. Isn't that sort of always the way it goes?

I've also finally discovered my favorite genre. See, I like fiction and non-fiction. However, my place in the reading world was solidified when wandering through Half Price Books last time I was there and seeing a section marked "multicultural literature" or something along those lines. I was interested in almost every single book I saw. Going over the list of books I've read recently confirms this.

Out of Mao's Shadow: The Struggle for the Soul of a New China
by Philip Pan

The title sounds like the book is going to be about spirituality, but it is not. It's a journalist telling vignettes of the reporting he's done on the deep cultural and political struggles in China today as it emerges from out of Mao's Communism. Since part of my job for my first three years in Dallas was doing research on China, a lot of the stories Pan is telling are the things I've been reading about for years now. There's a lot of humble heroes pushing for justice. If you're interested in modern China, it's a good read.

'

To Life or Perish Forever: Two Tumultuous Years in Pakistan
by Nicholas Schmidle

I didn't realize when I started these first two books just how similar they'd be. I thought this would be more the story of a journalist's life in Pakistan, but instead most of the book is the same style as Pan's, with Schmidle using each chapter to tell a vignette of his experience reporting on a particular cultural or political tension during his time in Pakistan. He uses the stories to highlight modern Pakistan's dilemmas of how to deal with tribalism, sectarianism, the Taliban, corrupt intelligence agencies, etc. I was actually bored until the last chapters, because Schmidle happened to be in Pakistan when Bhutto was shot. I had family there at the time as well, and his retelling of how people around him were reacting to this situation and the events that happened afterward were fascinating to me. Schimidle was also kicked bullied out of the country twice by intelligence agencies, and how all that went down was really interesting (and weird).

Short Girls
by Bich Minh Nguyen
This was meant to be my enjoyable fiction read, and it was a good book. It's about two second-generation Vietnamese immigrant sisters. One is married and struggling in her marriage, one is single and recognizing her own flightiness in relationships and work. All the drama ends up happening around the same time that their quirky father finally becomes a citizen. It deals with themes of relationships, belonging, family, and cultural confusion. I liked a lot of that, especially since part of it is set in Chicago. However, since so much of the relational drama happens around themes of affairs and divorce, that just wasn't enjoyable at this point in life. Walking with friends through real-life drama along those lines means that reading fiction about it makes the book almost painful.

A Martyr's Grace
By Marvin Newell
This is a book detailing the lives and deaths of the twenty-some Moody Bible Institute alumni that were martyred overseas. I wrote about my thoughts on it and my alma mater here on my politics/theology blog.

I've also picked back up The Road Less Traveled by M Scot Peck. I am struck again that he is incredibly profound and has such insight into people and life. I mean truly. Astounding depth. And then you look at the life of the man and it is astounding how little be bothered to implement his own insight into his own life. Sad. In any case, when I finish the book I'll have to do a review on it alone.

7 Quick Takes

2011-08-11T22:01:00.000-05:00

It's been forever since I did a 7 Quick Takes! You can join up or read others over at Conversion Diary.

1. In-N-Out Burger has been opening up all over Dallas, and the one near us just opened yesterday. Isaac was antsy from being in the apartment with Judah almost all week, so when we heard there wasn't a line we decided to go try it out. There were probably double the amount of staff than there were diners, and everyone was super peppy, so it was a fun atmosphere. As for the food, though, I gotta say it was a perfectly decent but really unextraordinary burger. I still love Whataburger best for Texas fast food burgers!

2. This week I finally downloaded some songs that have been on my wish list. From whom, you ask? Patty Griffin's Downtown Church, Adele's 21, Ben Rector's latest cd, the Wailin' Jennys, and (really really really behind on this one) Gretchen Wilson.

3. We found an organization that still actually does theological education and has schools across the world. Wonderful. We had them send our information to all opportunities and the first response.... was from Papua. Where I grew up. I have waited to see how Isaac responds to this opportunity and he seems to be really interested, which means that I can barely contain my enthusiasm. Is it really possible? Could it truly be that we'll return to my home, that Isaac and Judah will learn Indonesian? The more we find out about this opportunity and the town it's in, the better it sounds. We're continuing to investigate..... and I'm trying not to get my heart too set on it.

4. Judah is army crawling everywhere. This means that at bedtime when we put him in his pack-n-play, he scoots to the edge, smooshes his face against the mesh, and stares at us. It is adorable. If we honor his attention with a look and a smile he dissolves into giggles. Even more adorable.

5. Today Dallas did not top 100 degrees F. This means we do not beat the record (which would have been set tomorrow?) of the most days in a row over 100. I gotta say, though, that having an air conditioned car makes ALL the difference. This summer is totally not bothering me as much.

6. I bought a spice bottle of lemongrass paste and this week make lemongrass pork. Umm... hello delicious. I'm learning to LOVE vietnamese food.

7. London is rioting. This does not surprise me. There is a false sense of security in the West that thinks that we are more civilized than other societies with great civil unrest. We are not more civilized. If you give our society high unemployment, wealth disparity, and cultural segregation.... they riot too.

Cell Phone Picture Timeline Of The Last Two Years

2011-08-08T22:15:00.000-05:00

This week I sent my cell phone pictures to my online photo album. It was sort of striking to watch the progression.

There was life with the roomies, including Fatty and Stank. In this photo Stank is hiding in the fire place. Ironically, she's the smarter one...

And there's my high school girls. I cannot believe that I actually live in a place where a high school event can look like cowboy boots and hats and plaid shirts and two-steppin'

And then... surprise! This was at the Doctor's office. We hadn't told anyone yet.

I grew... and grew... and we waited.

And then, promptly on his due date, along came Judah.

And we got used to a new kind of date night and quality time....

....and listening to the sermon from the lobby with a sweet wiggling or sleeping baby on our laps.

He made us laugh by doing things like falling asleep with his toys on his face.

And he grew... and grew...

We keep cutting the budget here and there, paying off seminary and medical bills. This is why we shop at Walmart - here's a cart of the exact same name-brand normal grocery items with a price comparison between Walmart and Kroger. Walmart comes out 14% cheaper. So.... we return to our little UN Walmart every week.

I chopped my hair off, and it was terrifying. More on that later. I even did it at a hair SCHOOL. I know, I'm crazy. At this point I looked like Justin Bieber.

But after a re-cut (at the same place, six weeks later), I love it.

In fact, I love my hair, and my husband, and my kid, and my job, and my friends. Currently so thankful for all those external blessings. So content.

People who REALLY live in tree houses..... really freaking tall ones!

2011-08-08T08:00:00.000-05:00

I came across this short clip of a documentary of the Korowai people, Papuans who live in tree houses. After watching it, I am amazed again that I know people working with this tribe. Their skill and ingenuity is incredible.

And how great is the comment that the men climb up to the houses first so they don't look up the women's skirts? Especially considering the women are shirtless and just wearing little grass mini skirts anyways!

You Know It's Hot in Dallas When...

2011-08-03T08:00:00.001-05:00

It's been over 100 degrees in Dallas for over a month. This week we hit 110, I think. And so....

You know it's really hot in Dallas when...
(from the Dallas Morning News - submitted by residents via twitter)

... you get branded by your own seatbelt.

... bug spray feels refreshing and smells better than you do.
... it's too hot for fire ants to come out.
... the 12-pack of soda you forgot in the back of your car starts exploding.
... Oncor gives you surprise "quiet time" without electricity.
... squirrels begin falling out of trees from heat exhaustion.
... the weather report says OMG.
... you see two fire hydrants fighting over the same dog.
... you can take a hot bath in the pool.
... your sweat is sweating.
... sunflowers die.
... Dallas beats the Miami Heat...again.
... a tropical storm evaporates upon making landfall on the Texas coast.
... you ovulate hardboiled eggs.
... you sweat off your makeup walking from your apartment door to your car -- at 8 a.m.
... the native Texans are complaining about the heat.
... your shoes melt to the sidewalk if you stand still for more than a minute.
... Catholics are asking the wine to be turned back into water.
... your car puts itself on blocks to get the tires off the ground.
... you leave the house with your hair wet, and you get to your car with your hair dry.
... the thermometer says '' to be continued."

Traveling with a baby

2011-08-02T17:00:00.002-05:00

Everyone always says to travel before you have kids. We wanted to follow that advice. We visited each others' homes overseas and always said we wanted to do a backpacking trip Europe before we had kids. Actually, I said Europe and Isaac said Mediterranean and we never quite agreed on that one.

Then... along came Judah.

My friend Clare reassured me that having kids doesn't preempt traveling, as all my friends should know since our parents took us around the world regularly when we were little! So when my friend Rachel (who lives in England) got engaged and I was determined to return the message of love she sent by coming across the ocean for my wedding, Isaac and I decided to give this whole traveling-with-kids thing out.

Conclusion: It is do-able (clearly). It is also way more complicated and slightly less fun (at least for us).

*sigh*.

Just being honest, guys.

Airport Travel

I think that compared to how other people travel with kids, we did pretty well. Airports are chaotic regardless, and we didn't want to have to mess with strollers or car seats, so we pretty much just did all of our air travel with Judah like this:

Sorry, really really bad picture. Isaac hates photos so I didn't get a chance to retake it. :) In any case, the front pack is highly recommended. At least for Judah, he's generally calm when he's in them, it means I have hands free to carry other bags or unload things in the security line, etc. The Baby Bjorn baby carrier is my favorite, but I'm dying to get an Ergo for our next kid.

STILL though, even though we were a lot faster and streamlined than other families with kids that we saw, Isaac and I used to be rock star travelers who did the vast majority of our traveling with carry-ons only. Despite taking minimal baby stuff, taking baby stuff at all meant we had to check a bag.

Oh and... you have to consider the whole baby food/formula thing. We could pack baby food and juice, but they made us TASTE it in security lines to verify that it was really food/drink. Weird, huh?

As for flying, you pay full price to buy a seat for a kid. If you're flying internationally you pay a percentage even just to carry a baby on your lap. We went that route because financially we had do. I knew that growing up they used to have these seats with little baby beds or bassinets, but you can't request those before you get to the airport. We requested them as soon as we got to the airport, but it turns out that American Airlines has done away with them altogether. I can't speak for the rest of the airlines, but for us it meant that Judah would be on our laps for the entire flight to England in the standard small seats. Lisa-Jo at Gypsy Mama just wrote a piece I totally resonated with about all of this here.

It wasn't bad, it really wasn't. Judah stayed pretty quiet for almost all of both flights and didn't cry at takeoff or landing (their ears can hurt with the pressure changes). We didn't have neighbors having to put up with a screaming baby - everyone commented that he was great. However, it was exhausting. Try eating from a tray that is designed to be right at your stomach, but there's a baby there and he wants to grab EVERYTHING and there's no room to move it out of his reach! The person next to us whose personal space I am trying to keep Judah out of is about four inches away... how do you keep a kid corralled? And poor daddy is trying to watch the movie, but those ear phone cords are THE most desirable item in the general area. At some points we put both of our tray tables down and laid him on top of them, where he wiggled delightedly, happy to have us both captive and attentive.

On one flight we happened to have an empty seat seat next to us, thank God.

why's this camera in my face?

much easier for him to sleep when he has his own seat! So cute...

Sightseeing

And as for playing tourist, we generally had Judah out in a little stroller, which was great sometimes: because we didn't have to hold him and he could doze off.

But other times that meant we were out and about late at night and Judah would stay awake and watch us from the stroller with huge disoriented eyes like, "Where the heck are we and what is going?!"

Or... you hit stairs. Or escalators. So we did a lot of this:

And if you're going to end up carrying the stroller, why not just carry the baby? In retrospect, when sightseeing, stick with the baby carrier instead of the stroller if you don't know what all you'll be doing.

In general, your pace is slower. You have to stop for the baby's eating, play time, sometimes nap time... and if you don't stop for nap time you may pay for it later. The worst moment for us was after a whole day in London when Judah was just great, we were going home on the train and Judah was in my arms, and he went from being an angel to suddenly welling up with tears and crying... and crying... and crying. I looked at Isaac across the pack of people with desperate eyes, and we jumped off at the next stop while yelling across the crowd to our friends that we'd find our own way home. Poor Judah was so tired and hungry, I felt so bad for him.

Then there's baby gear. Car seats, pack-n-play, diapers, wipes, toys, etc. We didn't worry about this because Isaac's mom took care of it all for us, and Judah's stuff was all set up when we got there. If you have to carry all of that with you (as we will when we drive to my parent's for Thanksgiving), you add a whole new element to the trip.

Fun fun.

Here's what I learned for next time:

Use the front pack most of the time, but have a light stroller as backup.
Carry emergency food and drink supplies
Be casual. Don't schedule much. Focus on hanging out instead of doing things.
Let that baby sleep. As often and as much as possible.
Encourage other people to make plans separately from you. Meet them when the baby's schedule allows.

Oh, and PS - jet lag going East rocked. First night Judah slept 13 hours, and he NEVER does that. Going the other direction he traveled so well, until we got home at 2am in the morning after traveling forever. When we pulled him out of his car seat and put him in bed, he looked at us with confusion, and started crying with desperation (just like the train). Again, so confused. He was inconsolable for two hours. Four AM people. And us running on no sleep. And me headed to work in the AM.

Notes on Motherhood - Baby Boy is Growing Up

2011-07-31T21:14:00.000-05:00

Judah is almost eight months old.

He's less babyish every day. It struck me when I watched him sitting up and drinking out of a cup with a straw. SITTING up. Drinking out a straw, not a bottle.

I told Isaac that I feel more like Judah is a separate human being now. That sounds weird, but when he was born for the first few months I felt like he was an extension of my body and person. His cry was a cry from my own body that I had to attend to. I felt like I needed to be near him, to see him breathing, because he was a part of me. Babies are made to make their mothers feel like that.... helps us all get through those crazy first months.

Those first months are over now. When I walked in today he was sitting in his play gym blowing raspberries and talking to himself. He'll be crawling soon, and probably cutting teeth. As he picks up more solids he's cutting back on the milk he's drinking.

He's so much more analytical and focused, as you can see in this video, where he's chasing the blinds on our window:

PS - he's great with his "leg hands"

I love this stage too, though. I love the giggles and interactive play time. Now when he laughs and smiles and snuggles I feel like it's expressed because he loves me, and truly loves being with me and playing with me, not just because I'm a face in front of him. He used to know me by instinct, now he recognizes me, enjoys being with me.

After two weeks of fighting a cold and a week recovering from jet-lag and attempting to get back into work, I spent last Sunday afternoon mostly conked out in bed. Isaac had set up a little nest for Judah beside me, just the way I leave Judah beside him when I leave for work in the morning. He played with his toys and took a nap, but oh the tenderness of finding him rolling over to snuggle up against me. He would roll up as close as he could go and pop up his head to look me in the eye, and then lay it down on my arm, just watching me. His little hand came up and softly felt my nose, my lips, my eyes...

The trust and innocence in those big blue eyes, the tender snuggles as we read a book together, the giggles when its play time... I love all of it.

thoughts on six years of marriage

2011-07-26T22:17:00.000-05:00

You know... I've been married six years, as of last weekend.

It's kind of crazy. It doesn't really feel any different than it did at two years, but six years is actually a decent time to be married.

As time goes on I don't know what to think. I look at my husband and the past six years and think of how much I love this marriage thing, this partnership, this friendship. I know I knew a lot about him when I told him I'd marry him - I knew he was funny and could always make a joke, no matter how bad the situation. I knew he was smart and that we could talk for hours about things like theology and politics. I knew we both loved to travel. I knew he loved me and I knew his life was submitted to God. I knew those kinds of things. So - I think I made pretty great choice at that point.

But... there are some things you can never know when you say yes. You can't know what your spouse will be like in a year or 5 or 20. You can't know how they'll change, or you'll change, or if they'll fall morally or get depressed or change their religious beliefs or .... yeah. You can make a smart choice and be more sure based on the evidence, but there are no guarantees. You're marrying another person, they make their own choices you can't control them and they can't control you.

And... I was 22 and he was 21 when we got married. Were we mature for our ages? Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. Is anyone mature at that age?We were just young idiots, but young idiots can make good or bad choices just like 35 or 65 year old idiots. I'm torn between thinking that wisdom and care in dating and marriage make all the difference, and that marriage may be rough no matter how well you set yourself up to begin with.

So, here we are at six years of marriage and I throw my hands in the air and say I'm just thankful. For what I've got. For Isaac. For our tiny one-bedroom apartment and our dreams and the "would you rather" questions we asked each other on our anniversary date, and for the little man that sat in a high chair giggling madly at his daddy all through our dinner.

I love my husband. Here's to many more years of "dancing in the minefields".

Featured Flikr Photos: Bristol

2011-07-23T16:06:00.000-05:00

Our next trip after London was to Bristol, which is where my husband grew up. We did a few whirlwind trips to the airport, to see a friend, and to see a play, so we weren't really sightseeing. Still, I'm impressed by the beauty of this old city.

We parked right in front of this gorgeous old home in Queen's square, which includes a bunch of old buildings including the first American embassy - since most of the ships to a from America sailed out of Bristol.

The play we saw was just off of Bristol's Floating Harbor, which was much prettier than I expected.

And the play we saw (or at least I saw until Judah started crying and I left) was at the Old Vic, a theater that is almost as old as the US (192 years old). In early years it was described as, "a licensed pit of darkness, a trap of temptation, profligacy and ruin". Later the greatest actors in England acted there, and it was bombed in WWII. We saw an adaptation of Treasure Island, which is partly set in Bristol and several of the scenes in the book are based off of pubs that were just a block away from the theater and still exist.

Bristol has this gorgeous suspension bridge that looks out over the city, and it's quite a sight to drive both into and around the city.

Flikr Photos - the other side of London

2011-07-17T17:09:00.000-05:00

I used to do a blog series with photography posts on certain topics illustrated by photos from the wealth that is flikr's public photo offering. I'm going to do the same to illustrate our trip to England and Ireland, with a few photos of my own thrown in.

So, we just spent time in London for my friend Rachel's wedding. I love London, and I've spent three different family vacations taking little jaunts to see things in London. However, Rachel lives in an area that is different that the stereotypical picture of London, and I love it. Peckham is heavily African and Caribbean, with a lot of Indo/Pak people around as well. Walking down the main lane is like being in another country.

I ventured out one morning to try to buy some flowers. I went one direction and couldn't find any flower shops, so I got directions from a security guard and walked the other direction and found the main grocery store with a flower section. There's something about shopping in another country that really makes you feel like you've encountered the day-to-day culture.

We did do some of your usual London sights. We ventured into Chinatown and the Theater district for some Indonesian food one night. I just love usual sights. There's Trafalgar Square, which was partly all boarded up and that night was full of people lined up to spend the night waiting for the Harry Potter Premier.

And we hit up the British Museum, which is packed full of history and you can't really even begin to see it all. And... it's free.

This is the Black Obelisk, which illustrates the submission of several kings to Shalmaneezer III (I think). This particular king is King Jehu of Israel. Biblical history displayed in archeology. Cool.

And we stopped for a drink and a meal at a pub across from the museum.

We spent a lot of time getting around on the tube and the train, which was complicated with "push chair". This is London Bridge train station.

Thoughts from England

2011-07-16T13:32:00.000-05:00

I probably have about 10 posts in drafts from this past month, but mostly I just haven't had the time or motivation to write. I increasingly feel the need to write polished posts instead of simply dump thoughts onto this blog, so my motivation to write goes down.

Today, though, I shall dump.

We've been spending the last two weeks in England and Ireland. The purpose of the visit has been three-fold. First, to be a witness (both figuratively and actually as an official witness) at my dear friend Rachel's wedding. Secondly, to spend time with Isaac's family and let Judah and his grandparents get more acquainted. Thirdly, to visit a college in Dublin and sort of test the waters on their need and our feelings about working in a place like that.

It's been great. I simply love my Papua family, and seeing Rachel and her sisters and family as well as Jared and other friends. It was a life marker observed for people that I love, and new spouses and fiances met and approved of.

England has been great. It's my first time in England in the summer, and it's stunningly beautiful, especially after the Texas heat. I'm looking out the window of my in-law's conservatory, and despite the rain today the sun is shining now, and it's gloriously green and the air is always so clear and bright, and the flowers are vibrant, and the air crisp and cool. It's striking that the house is always cooled by just opening windows and doors - the fresh air is so nice. I've just been drinking up the weather.

I always feel comfortable in England. It somehow feels a bit like home, despite never having lived here. The church here is a wonderful little family-oriented church that is always so unpretentious, refreshing after our Dallas mega-church.
Being with family is relaxing and wonderful.

And then there was Ireland, which was a new country for both of us, and while our visit was quick, we just love exploring new places together. And it was refreshing to walk away with the same impression - we are not needed. The school there seems to be excellent, but while other places in world desperately try to recruit us because the need is so great, in Ireland they just don't need us.

However, I feel anxious about our future now. Isaac graduates in December, and I think we're coming to the conclusion that at this stage of life we just can't handle an MA degree for me while parenting Judah. Time and money aren't in sufficient supply in this life stage. I need to look for other forms of training for now, and we continue to look for a school that Isaac can teach at overseas. We're just beginning that process, but the thought of trying to find something, of figuring out finances, of seeing how long I have to hold my job until Isaac has something stable to take over... all of that makes me anxious.

I'm anxious to leave Dallas, actually, but I don't want to leave without something sure to go to. I think what makes me most anxious is the thought of floating without any next step for an extended period of time. That's scary. I hate feeling useless or meaningless.

And then I think - how is anxiety helpful? May as well just move ahead one step at a time. I like my job, Isaac is a good Dad, we're comfortable in Dallas for now, and something will work out for the future. One step at a time.

twitter vs. facebook

2011-06-28T21:25:00.000-05:00

So - I gave twitter a chance again. I've been using it for several weeks again, just trying to the hang of what types of things to tweet and who to follow, etc.

It's interesting. The reason I must have facebook is the ability to keep in touch with friends. But really, you could do the stream-of-consciousness status update on twitter instead of facebook and still have facebook as the network of friends and family across the world. So, what's the real differences between facebook and twitter?

Facebook communicates daily life to friends, family, and acquaintances. The upside of this is that it feels a bit more real. These are real people who know me. On the other hand, if I just want to vent a though, it makes it quite a bit more complicated to have to think about conservative missionaries, old secular work friends, and people that are in my daily life all hearing the thought and reacting to it differently. I can't just make a comment about how much Rick Perry's growing popularity worries me. I mean, I can, but I run the risk of starting a whole political debate, offending some, disappointing some, etc.

Twitter is, at the moment, a place where blog connections, ministry networking, and a few convos between friends happen. It feels like a safer place to throw out a random thought right now, simply because less people I actually know are following. That is a bit of a false sense of security, though, and it also means these strangers really don't care about the truly mundane. If I post that my kid is constipated, friends on facebook actually respond (which is sort of mind blowing, btw), but the twitter world really does NOT care. I suppose twitter becomes a bit of an extension of the blog world - an interaction with strangers, potentially followed by friends.

It's interesting. I think I still like the intimacy of facebook conversations. However, since twitter connects me to a bunch of people that I vaguely know but would never facebook friend, I'm a little fascinated by the insight into those worlds. Hmm...

how Isaac takes care of baby and still sleeps till 10:30 in the morning

2011-06-27T19:59:00.000-05:00

When Judah and I get up in the morning, we have about an hour together before I take him to the bedroom, stack some pillows along the side of the bed so he can't roll off, and then lay him down to play next to his still-dozing daddy. This is pretty funny and completely heart-melting. I always leave him with toys, which he plays with for all of five seconds before rolling his way over to daddy, even he's been placed as far away as I can get him. They lay there, Judah stretched alongside daddy's shoulder, with Judah stretching one arm over Isaac's shoulder and up to his face. Depending on daddy's level of wakefulness, he may stick his fingers up daddy's nose (Isaac is a DEEP sleeper in the morning), or may only get away with scratching his little fingers all through daddy's beard. Eventually he gets tired of that and he'll pick up a toy and start shaking it around, bopping whatever part of daddy happens to be within arm's length.

It is hilarious. I can't believe Isaac can doze through it, and I can't believe Judah can lay there and essentially play with his sleeping daddy all the way through till morning nap time, which is when they both fall asleep completely again. I've called home at 10:30 and accidentally woken Isaac up - he hadn't even stepped out of bed yet. How many stay at home moms sleep till 11am? This will end when Judah can crawl, I'm sure.

And... it's adorable. If I run back into the bedroom once more before leaving for work, the sight of Judah snuggled against his daddy, curiously scratching Isaac's face..... heart-melting.

P.S. It is such a mystery how Judah is this little blonde fine-haired little both when both Isaac and I have extremely thick dark brown hair. So weird.

Judah videos!

2011-06-24T22:51:00.000-05:00

So. Judah is rocking back and forth on his hands and knees, so crawling is in the not so distant future. Other current Judah favorites:

A. Trying real food. We decided to do a little of the puree/cereal thing, but also to just introduce real food as he wants to try it. His discovery of this strawberry makes it looks like he's mangling raw meat.

B. Being stuck under things.
He's a weird kid. Being under things makes him giggle and wiggle. I use it as a distraction tactic if he's fussy.

C. Swimming!
We love the pool at this complex, and our little ring floaty thing makes Judah feel like he can get all over the pool on his own. He kicks like a dolphin and drifts around, grinning all the while.

D. Himself.
Little Man is used to the tv and computer screens, but when he sees videos of himself he stares intently and sometimes giggles at his own giggling. Hello, narcissism. :)

I think he's adorable and hilarious.

I'm wrestling with a bit of working mom guilt right now. Isaac's out of school so I'm at work almost every day instead of working from home a couple days a week. I miss the extra time with him!

Back where we lived before....

2011-06-18T23:44:00.000-05:00

It has been SO much fun to move back into this apartment complex, the same one we lived in two years ago before moving in with roomies.

It's a little puzzling that it's so exciting, considering my first year in Dallas was awful, and my second was okay but not great. Why am I excited to go back to a place that isn't associated with great memories?

Familiarity, though, is huge and rare in my life. It's really funny to be almost giddy about it. We can see our old porch from our new porch. The gate out of the workout room is still hard to open. The crate myrtle tree positioned above the pool still sheds flowers every time the wind blows and makes the pool look like it's messy. We know the restaurants and stores around. I LOVE that. It makes it feel like we're coming home, in a way.

I also love that this place is incredibly multi ethnic and multi cultural and it has a family atmosphere. We're down at our pool every couple of days, and while our last complex was fancier, the pool somehow felt formal and we rarely swam in it. Here we're often there with kids of all different colors, the water is warm, and it's just so relaxing and fun. Judah has a little inflatable ring and he loves the water.

On the other hand, things are different living here this time around, in a good way. Although our apartment is smaller, a crucial difference is that I HAVE A CAR. I spent my first year in Dallas taking public transport, and while that worked just fine in Chicago, since hardly anything in Dallas is walking distance it basically meant I was trapped between work and the apartment and couldn't get anywhere else. I had a scooter for a while, which is was great, but it was stolen. Now I not only know the area, I can easily get around in rusty old car.

AND even better news - after suffering through last summer without AC in my car, I took the car to our mechanic, ready to pay for a new compressor but hoping he would get us a good deal (he always does), better than the $1,000 that the fancy auto shop told me it would cost when they checked it out last summer. Our mechanic took a look at it, put in freon, and sent me on my way. MY AC WORKS! It's brutally hot and I can live with that because I've got AC (and - thank you to Scot for your car advice, and NO thanks to the scumbag fancy auto shop that wanted to fleece me of 1,000 last summer).

because photos are valuable

2011-06-14T00:51:00.000-05:00

Remember weeks ago when I mentioned that I was attempted to move all my recent photos from my work computer to hard drive storage? And then the USB snapped off the computer? Yeah, it'd cost like $400 to repair. So. Since I've uploaded so many to facebook and the blog, we're not repairing it. *sigh*.

And so... I shall continue uploading photos!

Remember how he used to sleep with his hands over his face? As soon as he learned to roll over he started sleeping on his stomach. Preferably like this, with his butt high in the air.

Thanks to an office friend, Judah was made a Mavs fan. Someone had to step in and save Judah from his parents. We're so out of the sports world we're doing him a disservice!

Baby rolls, baby bootie, baby messy hair... adorables.

Judah can get halfway across a room by rolling. Sometimes he ends up under things... like the bed. And actually, he LOVES to be under things. It makes him giggle.

No paparazzi, please.

I think this is my very favorite picture of little J Mann and me. Sweet little baby yawns.

Thoughts at the end of a great weekend

2011-06-12T23:43:00.000-05:00

- We spent Sunday afternoon and evening with a bunch of kids (okay, we are now adults with lots of new spouses and babies) I went to high school with in Papua. Actually, some of them I even went to grade school with. In fact, Kars and my parents were in training to go overseas together when I was five.So. We all go way back. Note to new graduates from overseas.... it's been ten years or more for all of us, and we're still getting together. Those relationships do not end.

- After a day at the pool I am lightly toasted. Judah is only just tinged pink (to my relief). Isaac is bright red. I sympathize buuuut it is also his own fault. :)

- I do so love my Papua family. Everyone that made it this time grew up with the organization that sent my parents to Indonesia. So many of our parents are scattered across Asia doing all sorts of things now. I've sat here staring at the screen trying to formulate the next sentence in my head but I just can't express any more than just... I love this family. Truly do. I knows it's been years and we change and there's new husbands and wives and babies and divorces and beliefs. Regardless. I love these people.

- We concluded that we need to find someone wealthy to finance an all-expense paid reunion for Papua alum. Anyone want to volunteer?

- We went to Blue Ginger Garden in Plano for Malay food. It was great, and it's always so funny to see a gang of homesick Papuan kids drool over anything close to Indonesian food. We attacked that meal!

- Despite being all in the general area, only one of the 10 of us has watched any of the Mavs games, and only a few of us knew the NBA finals were on as we were eating dinner. See, Dallas friends, it is not just Isaac and I that are so out of it!

- We arrived home and lost internet connection. Suddenly there was yelling and screaming in the hallways and we thought a fight broke out in the apartment next door. Nope. Dallas Mavs won the NBA championship! The apartment below us had guys spewing beer everywhere and yelling in excitement, lots of people were in the hallways and on their porches cheering. Fun fun.

- Isaac and I are good luck. Cubs made it far and the Sox won while we were Chicago. Since we've been in Dallas the Rangers and now the Mavs have taken it all the way. Which city needs us now?

- I now have two goals before we leave for England and Rach's wedding on the 4th of July. First, get a hair cut ( the first since November). Second, get a date with the hubster. Time is flying!

The things I was afraid of before having a baby.... one year later

2011-06-10T17:00:00.001-05:00

I'm supposed to be writing about other things, but my time has been so monopolized that I just feel like I have to start with something I really WANT to write about, so here we go...

My brother and sister-in-law are having a baby ... YAY... and it's a girl! My SIL asked me how I feel now about a post I wrote a year ago: What Scares Me About Pregnancy and Motherhood.

That is an excellent question, and since I've been thinking about that since she wrote me, I wanted to ponder it via blog a little bit.

1. Losing my identity as "Kacie".

With both marriage and having a child, it marks a change of identity as well - from a single woman to a married woman, a wife. Now I'm transitioning to being a mother. Change is inevitable, but I find myself initially reacting strongly against the feeling that I will be a whole different person, never to return to who I was before.

Just as that fear of losing my identity dissipated when I got married, it has dissipated after having Judah. I didn't lose my identity when I became a mother, I added to it. I am all of the things I was before, and now also a mother. I still feel like Kacie. I feel like my identity is more well-rounded, I am even more comfortable with who I am. I will say, though, that this may be helped by the fact that I am a working mom right now. The first month or so after having a baby are all-consuming and although it was wonderful, you do sort of lose perspective on who you are and what life is like normally. When things normalize it's easier to get back into your life, but I definitely have the benefit of having multiple days a week in which I am "Kacie" without Judah there with me. I interact and am known as a professional and co-worker, so I don't feel completely absorbed by the "mother" role, though it's there and I love it.

2. Fear of the loss of independence and how I will react to it.
Well, this is an interesting one. Two parts. First of all, yes, you lose your independence. I was all proud of us at first that we just continued on getting out and about with Judah in tow, but that changed as soon as Isaac was back in school and I had to take Judah out alone. The car seat is heavy, you never know when the baby is going to cry, navigating schedules and everything you need to take with you is complicated. It's easier now, but still.... It's SO much harder to get things done and I can't just make my own schedule or plan. It gets easier every month as the baby gets older, but it's true... the level of independence is changed.

The key is the second part. How do I react to the loss of independence? The loss is balanced by the fact that being trapped in the apartment with an adorable baby boy isn't half bad! I come up with new things to do that are okay with a baby in tow. Time slows down, in a way, and I really try to soak up those small slow moments with my son instead of thinking about how it's taking away from everything else I could be doing. Before it seemed like once I became a mother that period of life would stretch out interminably. Now I sort of see it the other way around. Say I have three kids. I would have a year and a half total with a baby under six months. That is SO SO short compared to most life stages, and so instead of resenting it when it's all consuming, I keep thinking that in just a few years I will coo over other women's infants and wish I could have the sweetness of an itty bitty one again. So. I lose independence, but it is for a GOOD cause and I will gain it back again incrementally as Judah grows. I don't resent it, I'm trying to soak it up. Sometimes it stresses me out, but I don't resent it.

3. Fear of not enjoying motherhood.
Wow. On this one I know some women really struggle so I hate to sound too happy clappy because comparison isn't helpful. However... wow. I LOVE being a mother. I've never felt so useful, so fulfilled, so well-suited to what I'm doing. I'm nurturing an adorable, squishy, smiley little baby. It's fun. I eat it up.

It may be harder when motherhood is what I'm doing all day, but I really do think it's one of the things I would most enjoy doing most all day long. It also may be harder when kids are older and there's more of them, since I do just looooove infants. But yeah. First six months of motherhood have been entirely enjoyable.

4. Fear of figuring out appropriate discipline.
Now there's a legitimate fear right there. I'd say almost all of the fights Isaac and I have had over the past six months have been related to the philosophy behind discipline. Don't think you'll get away from it because they're infants... that philosophy relates to how to guide or control their sleep and eating habits too. Isaac and I are definitely running on different philosophies and each time we have to actually make a decision, we end up coming to the conclusion that our opinions really are opposite and even understanding the other side doesn't make us change our minds. That means we have to come to some sort of agreed compromise in which one or both of us really does lose out. And giving up ... in an area like shepherding your child is a whole lot harder and scarier than it is when you compromise on picking a spot to eat lunch.

That's still pretty scary, since I know we'll be dealing with discipline for... 18 years. The good thing is that while I don't enjoy conflict, we CAN do it, and do it pretty well most of the time, and in the end it makes you stronger if you do it well. We had a big discussion (read: fight :)) about something this week, but after extensive conversation, apologies, decisions about what to do next time this issue arises.... I feel blessed to have a husband that cares about our child and parenting well, who is willing to work through a discussion instead of just dominate the decision, and who loves me.

5. Fear of losing the centrality of our marriage
After I wrote this post last year I read even more about what having children does to marriages. Statistically, marital satisfaction drops dramatically after having a child. They say the emotional affect on a woman is like having an affair. Phew! They say dads often feel left out in the first weeks because mom and baby bond so strongly.

I understand that now. Everything about an infant is made to entirely monopolize a woman's emotional energy, but there is good reason for that. Infants require that much attention and care, and when mom has just fallen in love with that baby, it makes being a mom so much easier. It really was overwhelming how emotional I was about Judah after he was born. I cried over him so often, I wanted to hold him, to talk to him, to be near him. Yeah. Super emotional mommy. Not super different than initial overwhelming infatuation in its level of ridiculousness.

That's great for mothering, but it is weird to have that suddenly hit you like a ton of bricks when you have been focused on your marriage. I'm glad that Isaac and I were both pretty wrapped up in Judah, because while we got very little (or none at all) alone time, we were together in being so into this new little person. Those were beautiful new moments as a family. We were lucky to have Isaac on Christmas break from school at the same time I was on maternity leave.

After that, though, when I went back to work and Isaac to school and we passed Judah back and forth between us... that was much harder. We were (and still sort of are) super busy and since I was pumping and figuring out supply issues, I hated to leave Judah for any extra time to get a date with Isaac. That would be much easier if I were a stay at home mom - then I would have been at home with the baby or kids the whole time and would feel no guilt about getting someone else to watch them for a while while Isaac and I got a date.

The date thing is key, actually. This whole school semester I'd start to feel all the responsibilities weighing on us and start to feel down and disconnected. That would only grow... until we did get in a date. Each time we got a date it would be SO refreshing, so wonderful to be together, and really rejuvenating. Thus... I am a believer in dates and their necessity when you have kids. I'm thankful for friends in my community group that have volunteered to babysit for free, and we're starting to make a habit of it.

Conclusion on that one.... it IS harder to keep your marriage central when you have kids. It takes work. However, date time can be the little trick you need to snap things back into place.

when I was a freshman in college

2011-06-04T14:03:00.001-05:00

So first off, a few comments. I chatted with my family on skype this morning. It was just a few hours before my sisters step on an airplane and fly to the US, which is very surreal. I also absolutely love the moment when I put the camera on Judah and everyone melts into, "AWWWWWW." I love that they love him. And finally, my brother Matt cracks me up. My dad came in to report that Matt was on amazon.com browsing the 5-piece men's suits.

But... that's off topic. I'm currently unpacking the box that I packed all my desk stuff in, and I got side tracked reading a folder full of printed off emails that track my college years. All I did was print them off and file them, they haven't been read in years. They.... are hilarious. The first emails are dated August 21 and 22nd, and they detail my first weeks at Moody. The people I list as my closest friends are indeed the people I stayed close friends with, and some of you are reading now.

College freshman me cracks me up:

It seems like all the proffs and "Joe" the president of Moody are all talking about the likelihood of us kids getting married here. It's so scary - especially when I'm sitting in the room with like - I dunno, maybe 20 or 25 guys... and thinking that maybe in a few years I'll be engaged to one of them. Scary, eh? I love the ratio, tho. It was me and like, four girls... and then those 20 or 25 guys (in a meeting for the new students in our major). Isn't that awesome? Quite an improvement on the ratio in high school!

Lol! For the record, Isaac was not in the room at the time. Good ol' Joe really did try his best to set people up. Not that Bible College freshman need ANY encouragement that direction. They earn their nickname... "Bridal Institutes".