Today

Today was a day of belonging.

It followed many many days of loneliness. Days of feeling invisible. More than one occasion of someone I had talked to at length not remembering me at all.

But today was one of those days that finally happens when you've been around a place for awhile. Four months and two days.

Today I was invited to a party.
Today I was given a Christmas card.
Today my youngest had a play date and my oldest came rushing in from school with a friend and my middle was accompanied home by a friend's parent asking for my help tomorrow.
A few minutes of chaos brought joy to my heart.

Today I walked and said hi by name to several kids and parents.
Today I exchanged used clothes with a neighbor.
Today I felt like I might find my place in this new city after all.

An overheard conversation

Yesterday the girls and I were in the car and I overheard a conversation that made me laugh... the results of influence, for good or bad! I'll write it in prose so you can really hear them:

Background...

About a year ago, I envisioned a future for my youngest, at the time 3, which included her two passions: health and horses. It took. Spread to her older sister. And has now become their written in stone plan for "what they'll be when they grow up" involving savings plans, college plans, and now this...

Yesterday...

Sophie had successfully won money-bingo (a game I invented with pennies and a letter bingo card where she gets to keep the pennies of the winning row) and raided the coin bin in the car and had a pocket full of loose change. The car interaction with Ella began in a typical Sophie way- a confused mixture of pride and generosity- bragging about her money, but wanting so badly to give some away.

"Mom, do you want a penny?" Sophie asks me imploringly. To which Ella quickly replies, "NO! You need it for the horse! Remember, you're buying one and I'm buying one! You can't give all your money away. Horses are expensive!" Ella, currently studying economics in 2nd grade, rattles off all the things they're going to need for this plan to succeed. "We have to buy horses and a house to live in and a gun."

Sophie, now catching on and not missing a beat, agrees. "Yeah, a gun to shoot the bad animals." "No, the animals we're going to eat" Ella corrects. And then, as she pauses to consider the dollar signs racking up, Ella bursts out, "Nah, we're just going to go to the store to buy our food. Guns and those ticket things you need to get the animals is too expensive." (Remember the experiences we've been having in Wyoming this Fall...) "We don't need the gun" Ella concludes. "Yeah" Sophie concurs.

The car stops. Animated economic discussion of future plans come to a close. My 7 and 4 year old jump out of the van, grab my hands, and start asking for more pumpkins.

Bringing beauty out of chaos

Do I write or do I edit photos? The urge to do both speaks to my need for ordered beauty out of clutter and mess. It is the first time I have been at my computer in nearly a month (oh how I missed you!) and in that time I have had more thoughts and taken more photographs than my creative juices can handle. And of course, moved.

Boxes and stacks of files and wires and papers without homes surround me. It is oh so disorganized.

I have been starting my mornings with a brisk walk/jog, as altitude adjustment allows. I love Colorado mornings! The air is crisp, fresh and barely warm. Paths are filled with dog-walkers, bikers, and fellow joggers. I pray for patience and kindness for the kids that day. And again the next morning. And the next.

I also notice how beautiful the yards are and I have wondered how manicured grass points to God's character. Isn't it a need for ordered beauty that drives us to turn farms and fields (which surround our neighborhood) into brilliantly green carpets trimmed, watered, and tenderly cared for?

If this is a desire we have, did it not come from the one in whose image we were created? Who himself created order out of chaos and brought beauty out of nothingness? If this is not just an American suburban thing we do or a sign of wealth, how do people in the majority world create ordered beauty?

I remember my Turkish neighbors meticulously cleaning their homes, shoes always left at the door, carpets shook regularly. Though the streets were full of dirt, litter, and a horrendous stray dog problem, homes were always neat and clean, no matter the economic class.

I wonder, what do those who live on $1 a day do to create beauty? Surely this is innate to us all. It is not just the green grass I pass as I reach my morning stride.

And, surely, this is what I'm striving for as I unpack and sort and rearrange?

Junk for Afghanistan

Boxes and boxes of stuff have not made the cut of what gets to go in the moving truck next month. Instead of dumping it at Goodwill or painstakingly pricing it all for a garage sale, we decided to have our own fundraiser. The kids and I devoured the youth version of "Three Cups of Tea" this year and Greg Mortenson's work in Pakistan and Afghanistan captured our hearts. In honor of my brother who is stationed there this year, we decided to offer everything for FREE and accept donations to help build a school for girls.


The story goes that in Greg's early years of raising money to fulfill a promise he made to the people of Korphe, his first donation came from his mother's elementary class... $600 worth of pennies. "Pennies for Peace" is the educational arm of the Central Asia Institute.


And so, with the help of Ella and her friends (3 neighbors all yelling on the street corner at 8am), we made $130 in donations for a school in Afghanistan! We're pretty excited, given what was on our driveway that day!

(And yes, you'll notice that Ella IS wearing her winter coat on June 19 in Seattle.)

Love and Logic

I have been wondering why I haven't read this book until now. For 3 years my kids' principal has been including excerpts in the parent newsletter and it has been recommended countless times. Why oh why did I not read it sooner? Now I have a 10 year old who will have to suffer along with us as we make the painful shift in our parenting techniques!

This week I have made several difficult, albeit thrilling milestones.

On Monday Aidan called from his classroom asking me to bring his homework to school. I said no! And it was hard! It's not like I wrung my hands and paced the halls out of guilt, but it was a first for me, having run many a lunch and homework assignment down to school. We are only a block away! And everyone knows I don't work. I'm home. I could. The pressure to be an attentive and thoughtful Mom on call is huge! But I told him I wanted him to learn responsibility and that I wouldn't be bringing his homework.

On Wednesday Aidan called and asked me to come pick him up so he wouldn't have to walk the block home. His stomach hurt from eating so much at the Safety Patrol celebration party. I said no. (This time it felt much easier. His buffet etiquette grosses me out.)

And on Wednesday night, after being given the freedom to take a shower when he chose before bedtime, we returned home from a date to find him fully clothed in his dirty school attire asleep in bed! We decided to give him a choice the next morning. He would not be allowed to put clean clothes on a dirty body. So his choice would be to wear the same outfit to school or to take an early morning shower, in the "girls' shower" because Chris would be using the other one at that time. Ooohhh he did not like his choice! He angrily showered and went to school.

This is so challenging! It's amazing, when you are aware of your actions and words, how many bad things you say and do! I wish wish wish I had read this book years ago!

"My child, if your heart is wise, my heart too will be glad." Proverbs 23:15

Victory!

Six months ago I thought it would be great "fun" to celebrate my 36th birthday and Mother's day by walking for my MA at graduation and running my first half marathon. Hmmm... the things I think are romantically good ideas! Two of the hardest things I've ever tried to do, completed in one weekend, was exhilarating. It was also emotionally taxing. In the days following, I felt lighter, freer... released.

However proud I am of these accomplishments, I found more pleasure in seeing my children proud of their Mom. In the last 50 yards of the race, they were there to run me in. As I was hooded on stage, I heard their cheers in the audience. My parents and husband were present too, and their approval is of course important... I've been seeking it the better part of my life. But to be an example to my children, to see the looks in their eyes... well, it was a treasure!

We celebrated it all at Kabul, an Afghan restaurant in Seattle. The things they do to humor me!

Experiencing Seattle

We have always been curious about the Pho restaurants ALL OVER this city! What is the craze? What is Vietnamese food? And how do you eat your meal out of a bowl of broth? My sister in law came to visit over spring break and gave us an excuse to do many "firsts" in Seattle! Pho=yum! And I LOVE that our kids are willing if not eager to try new foods/restaurants and end up loving things like this! (Yes, Chris does look more dubious!)

Justice in the Kitchen

If I were to write a book, this is what I would call it: Justice in the Kitchen, Imparting a theology of justice to our kids in bite sized chunks.

Yesterday I was making Aidan Turkish tea. He loves this stuff and claims his Turkish babysitter gave him tea instead of bottles. In fact, when Ella teased him for liking it, he was genuinely insulted. Thus began our brief foray into depth at the kitchen table...

Aidan: Sugar cubes would have been better.
Beth: (smiling) Yes, I know.
A: You know that church in Turkey with the spiral staircase going down to the basement? I used to steal sugar cubes there and eat them.
B: I know.
A: That wasn't really a church though, was it?
B: What do you mean? What makes a church?
A: Well, I mean, a place that is open all the time with people working there during the week and stuff.
B: So was Seed (our current church) a church when we met at the Country Village (a rented room)?
A: (pause) No, yes, I mean... (exasperated and stuck)
B: If that was still a church, but without a building, what makes a church?
Ella: A group of people? Who love?
B: Do you know, in some countries churches are just a few families meeting in a living room in secret.
E: Why in secret?
B: Because in some places they aren't allowed to follow Jesus. They aren't allowed to become Christians.
E: (look of horror and tone of pain) Why not?
B: In countries that don't know Jesus some leaders don't want their to people to change. So churches are small and meet in secret.
A: Can I have more tea?

That was it. Just a few minutes of intense curiosity and space for a transformative moment. It's gone as quickly as it starts and I realize how I need to be on my toes, constantly seizing these teachable minutes. Hopefully, they are now a tiny bit more aware of their freedoms, a tiny bit more knowledgeable about ecclesiology, and a tiny bit more educated in issues of injustice as it relates to our faith.

Envisioning into my children

I have delighted in rich conversations as of late with my girls and their compassionate take on the world. It is therefore not a big leap to do a little envisioning into their futures. When Ella burst into tears after singing at a nursing home with our church, declaring her life's mission to help them get better, I seized upon her mercy gland and we talked about it for weeks.

My 3 1/2 year old Sophie asks an abundant amount of questions about our bodies and nutrition, asking for healthy food for breakfast and lunch and concerned about vitamin C and such. So I started painting a picture of her becoming a doctor and traveling around helping people. She quickly corrected me that she wanted to be a cowgirl, but I'm quicker. I suggested she be a doctor that rides horses to remote areas where the people really needed medicine. She loved that idea and said I could come too, to take care of her horse for her.

I have no qualms shaping and molding their hopes and dreams. I want to take the glimpses of glory revealed to me in moments of tender rawness and envision what it could become in their future. It is one of the greatest gifts I hope to give them... a solid trajectory as they leave our home, rooted in reflection and mirroring of what I see in them.

I've been a bit more mystified as to how to envision into Aidan and honestly doubted if there was a compassionate gland in his body. The utter lack of ambition is hard to relate to. Even video game testing required too many pre-requisites for Aidan to dream about. For a Mom who needs many lifespans to do all she'd like to do, the lack of dreaming was scary!

And then we started reading the youth version of Three Cups of Tea together.

He LOVES it! He can't wait to read it at night and begs to read more than my voice can take. He suffers through my many tearful moments (even though I've read it 3x) and is now using some Arabic terms in normal speech. When the village chief who started it all for Greg Mortenson died last night, Aidan was crushed. And yesterday, when Ella asked what the first language on earth was (one of her many random questions) Aidan exclaimed, "Was it Balti?"

Culture, language, adventure, and the heroism of a normal guy have captivated him. The signs of a third culture kid shining through. Something to seize upon! I have found my next travel companion for A Face to Reframe!

Now if I can arrange for Sophie to practice medicine in the same country that Ella wants to care for the elderly and Aidan wants to travel around helping remote villagers, I will be one happy Mom!

Justice in my front yard

Yesterday the kids and I had an opportunity to discuss 'rule of law' and experience first hand how the police in our country serve us.

1) Sophie and I met some friends at the beach for our last sunny day and when we all returned to our cars, my friend's passenger window had been shattered and her purse stolen! I think we all felt a sense of violation, even Ella as I recounted the story hours later. She and Aidan wanted to know all the details and if the police came, caught the thief, and reclaimed my friend's possessions. Their sense of justice is innate.

2) Of course, that retelling was intensified by the drama unfolding in front of our house as Ella and Aidan walked home from school. A police car had pulled up across the street and a detective's car next door. The two officers had walked a few houses down to our suspicious neighbor's duplex and then returned with a handcuffed man! I have had my opinions about what is going on in that house, and discussed the consequences with the kids. They were fascinated (and comforted) by the arrest!

3) Ironically, Aidan had already met the uniformed officer at school that morning. A classmate broke his leg during recess and the fire department, ambulance, and police all descended. Aidan had shook the officer's hand and been left with a benevolent and trusting impression of the law.

As I've continued to think about yesterday's events I am struck by how we take for granted the 'rule of law.' Our society functions because we can trust the justice system. Corruption is rare, and if exposed, punished. The police are trustworthy and the first people we advise our children to seek if they are in trouble.

These basic realities are just not true in so many places in the developing world! Corruption is rampant. The police are not to be trusted. And wrong doing is often rewarded.

I'm looking forward to continuing our discussion today when the kids come home. Another blessing I don't want them to miss!

Parks as places of memory

In a zest of Mom-ness, I visited not one, but TWO parks today! (No applause necessary.)

As I sat there in the familiar park-daze reflecting on my generosity and remembering why I get sullen and contemplative at parks, a host of memories bubbled forth. Nine years of park-dazing, the bulk in Turkey.

And I decided that parks inhabit my mom-memories. The emotional ups and downs that correlate with seasons of my children's lives.

The years in Turkey when Aidan was small and my language was smaller; when going to the neighborhood park meant making small talk with the regular nannies, feelings of other-ness, and cultural annoyance at the stray dog problem no one wanted to fix. The park by the sea represented my escape from neighborhood and community building, where chosen isolation was better than forced loneliness. The park in the forest represented the Saturdays when our need for nature superseded the inevitable traffic we would fight getting home.

The park in Winnetka was the first trip back to America, and the first thing we did when sleep alluded us that first jet lagged morning; when Aidan went up to the black girl and asked what language she spoke. The park in my parents wooded Virginian neighborhood symbolizes the last 6 weeks of pregnancy. Waiting for Sophie to come while Aidan and Ella enjoyed crazy play with no Turkish nannies scolding them.

Parks have always been lonely places that simultaneously confront my exhaustion from being a Mom and from living cross-culturally. They are not my preferred place of passing time. But today I simply absorbed the memories, honestly happy that one day soon I'll stumble upon a new place that holds my memories and acutely aware that I will bemoan these days gone by.

A tooth fairy catastrophe

Don't judge us. Even though we've never acknowledged the Easter Bunny, and have tried unsuccessfully for years to debunk Santa (they insist we're lying), we have no problem with the tooth fairy. We may be the most educated inconsistent parents you'll ever meet! I will add though, we're frugal magic-enablers. One tooth gets $1 around here... but up the street we've heard they go for $5!

Anyways, Ella lost her first tooth a few days ago. Chris actually yanked it out per her request. We suggested she put it under her pillow and she dramatically told us a few reasons why there was no such thing as a tooth fairy. She's so resistant to disappointment! But by bedtime, she had asked for the special box and mustered up some faith. I had class that night and we both went to bed late and exhausted. (Read: we forgot.) The next morning at 6am, she banged on the bathroom door, yelling at Chris showering, "YOU LIED!"

My quick thinking morning person husband responds, "You woke up too early! She's still making her rounds. Go put the box back!" And she believes him! He jumps out of the shower and "flies" down to her room.

This is what she and I found a few hours later when she went to get dressed:

"Ella, I am sorry I am late. You must have gotten up early today because you are not here. I had a bad accident when I ran into a pole and lost a wing! I had to walk all the way here. And, even though it is sunny here, there was a tornado in China and a hurricane in Bermuda, so I got all soaking wet. Anyway, so glad to finally get this tooth from you for my collection! I have been waiting! Now, I am off to the wing repair shop. Bye! The tooth fairy."

My thoughts are mostly simple

Lest you think I'm always having deep thoughts or pondering world trauma, be encouraged to know that I spend the bulk of my time being a mom. The thought life that accompanies raising small children, though punctuated with moments of serious consideration, is mostly simple and humorous. A surprise snow storm (to us) closed schools on Monday and sent the kids outdoors for hours. I found myself desperately wanting gloves, boots, and snow pants myself.