Confessions of a mother

This summer, I did something that still rocks me to my core, if I think about it too long.  Not because it was great.  Not because it was fun.  Not because it was awesome.   But because it was completely awful and could have ended with the worst possible ending that ever could happen ever in the history of ever. 

It was our last day in the US.  Joel had been packing all day, the last 2 days actually.   He was trying to fit in all the things I insisted we needed to cart back across the world.  I was trying to help him, while also taking care of the kids, and handle other last minute things.  One of the things that needed handling was the return of the rental car I had used all summer.  We had already picked up the minivan that my mom would drive us to the airport in.  The only problem was, mom wasn't with us when we went to pick up the minivan.  She needed to be on the rental contract because she was the one that would be driving and returning the car.  But, they require photo id of all drivers that want to be put on the rental contract.  So, we had to go back, with her and her id, to get her put on it. 

It was late in the day.  Dinner time was nearing, and we still needed to drive all the way across town to the airport to put mom's name on the rental.  Mom and I decided to do two birds with one stone - we would run that errand, and then pick up dinner on our way home.

At this point, Joel had already packed all the suitcases into the minivan.  The vehicle was FULL.  Seats were moved into the only position they could be in.  Every inch of space in the rear cargo space, between seats, where there was meant to be foot space - it was ALL full of suitcases.  3 car seats were installed in the only optional configuration.  Joel would have half an actual seat to sit on for the ride to Chicago.  The car was full and Joel was stressed out and exhausted, so, as I normally would anyway, we grabbed the baby, strapped him in, and off we went. 

Mom and I were having a hilarious conversation on the way to the rental agency - trying to figure out where to order dinner from, then trying to figure out where the restaurant was located, and then trying to figure out what to order.  We ran into the normal struggles of the tech/Internet savvy person being at the wheel, and mom being ridiculous about all of it in the passenger seat.  It was silly.  Vilnis slumbered peacefully in his car seat the whole way. 

When we arrived at the rental agency, I finally snatched the phone from my mom, called the restaurant, and ordered dinner.  Then we hopped out of the car and headed inside to handle the paperwork.  The errand went as easily and quickly as expected and mom and I were getting back in the car no more than 5 minutes later. 

I turned around to back the minivan out of the parking spot, and my heart dropped into my stomach.  

"MOM!"

She jumped. "Did you hit something?"

"MOOOOOOM!!!!!  WE LEFT THE BABY IN THE CAR!"

He was just sitting there.  Still sleeping.  All strapped in and safe and completely oblivious. 

I backed out and exited the parking lot.  I'm pretty sure I was in shock and probably shouldn't have continued to drive at that moment, but I did.  As we drove to the restaurant, mom and I chattered nervously about what we had just done.  We went over how wrapped up we'd been in ordering dinner.  How we were in an unfamiliar car.  He was sleeping.  Everything was different.  We were both emotionally exhausted at the thought of myself and my family leaving the States again the next day.  We were not ourselves. 

When we reached the restaurant, I went in to see if our order was ready, but it wasn't.   I came back out to the car, and now,  I finally opened the back door.  I looked down at my sweet, sleeping 7 month old, at his innocent, unaware face. 

I leaned in and covered him in kisses.  I apologized profusely for being the worst.  

Good mothers don't forget their babies. Good mothers don't leave their babies in cars.  Forgotten babies die.  Babies in cars die.  Mothers go to jail for this.  People call the cops when they see a forgotten baby.  Only the worst, most irresponsible, horrible, uncaring, unfit mothers do this kind of thing.  Criminals!

I immediately ratted myself out in my private mommy group online.  Of course, it made no difference, but it was the only punishment I could think of and execute at the time.  Surely, I needed to be punished for this!

In the end, of course, we simply got our food and returned home.  We got the baby out of the car at home, and went about our night.  And the next day, I drove us to the airport, mom drove the minivan back to Kalamazoo, and that was the end of that.  I came back to Laos with all three of my children; healthy, happy and whole. 

I had another nightmare just last week about leaving him in the car.  It haunts me.  I could have been one of those stories.  I could have been one of those mothers.  It all happened so easily, and so quickly.  It happened without me noticing. 

I've heard about so many stories of children dying in hot cars, forgotten by their parents.  I couldn't ever imagine how a parent could let that happen.  Until, of course, I came this close.  Until, it all but happened to me.  I didn't think it ever could, and now I know that it can, because it did.  Vilnis and I are obviously surrounded by angels - the car was cool, it was a not too hot late afternoon, there was no line at the service desk,  and the paperwork literally took 30 seconds to complete.   The little guy slept through his near death experience without a care in the world.  He had no idea. 

I'm not sure what the appropriate end is to this post.  A reminder to stay present.  Pay attention to where you are, and what you're doing.

It's got nothing to do with loving your kids, or thinking of them.  I've spent the last 7 years of my life thinking of not much more than my kids.  I was one of those moms that other moms criticized for spending too much time with their kids, for being too attached, too connected.  I skipped date nights and nurseries and cribs and babysitters, because *I* wanted to do it all and be with them always.  And then I forgot my baby in the car anyway.  

We are all only human.  We all make mistakes.   And I can only only thank my lucky stars that our story had a happy ending. 

Where is that place?

A dear friend of mine is moving away from Laos in June, when her initial 2 year contract ends.  I don't blame her.  She hasn't been happy here; Laos just hasn't been a good fit for her.  I will miss her, and our weekly Taco Thursday dates, but I do not begrudge her leaving. 
She posted on social media today (after seeing yet another dead body in the road) about coming to the realization that she just doesn't like it here, and that that is ok.  It's the second part of that statement which is a big deal.  Every where you go, you're bound to find lots of people that are happy to be where they are.  Because, hopefully, most people don't stay in a place they hate forever.  Or maybe they do and I'm looking at this from a super privileged perspective.  That could very well be true. 
In any case, my friend brought up that she felt guilty for a long time about not liking it here.  Of course, there are people who have chosen this place as a forever home, there are people who find the culture and the environment magical and wonderful and can't imagine why anyone would complain.  And there are plenty of people who fall somewhere between.  But there are people who don't like it - and hopefully we don't meet too many of them, because hopefully they move on before too long.
My friend's realization, and her mention of guilt, reminded me of my own feelings when I left Latvia.  I so wasn't happy there.  I didn't feel like I fit in.  I stepped off the plane on every return with a sinking feeling in my gut.  Heck, sometimes it started in the last port before arriving in Latvia, at the boarding gate as I looked around and saw people who were clearly headed the same place as I was.  It wasn't good.  I felt super guilty because this was supposed to be the place I came from, the place my family and culture and traditions hailed from.  Heck, it IS the place all that came from.  But, it still didn't feel like home to me.
The truth is, surprisingly I have felt more at home in Laos than anywhere.  I don't have a sinking feeling coming back here.  But, is that because this is the place where my family has grown? Where we have MADE a home? Or just because I like it here?  I'm not sure.  It could be a bit of both. 
Between road construction, an endless hot season and just plain life,  I am so so so so so ready for a good long break from Laos right now.   But at the same time, I'm pretty sure I'll come back here in August refreshed and ready to settle in back home and into our life here. 
And so the question remains....where is that place?

My special little snowflake

Sigh. 

The longer I mother, the simpler I wish to make things.   Yeah, Beni got homemade purees for her first foods.  (Which she never ate, by the way! I may have lied about that on this very blog 5 or so years ago.  She hated purees!) Zintis got a few special foods here and there, mostly just stuff cut to the right size for him.  With Vilnis, I was basically planning on making sure whatever he was gnawing on had some nutritional content.  You know, as you do with third babies. :) 

Alas, it turns out Vilnis is our special little snowflake.  Vilnis is having blood in his diapers.  It's happened 4 or 5 times in his life when it's been visible to the naked eye. 

The first time it happened I took a picture, made note, mentioned it to a doctor at some point, but didn't freak out.  The next time it happened, I took pictures again, and sent my pediatrician friend a quick message on Facebook.  

Then it happened twice in two weeks and I started getting worried. 

Add to the blood that he's been a huge spitter-upper since the beginning.  He makes people gasp and make faces when they see how much he spits up.  He makes me change my clothes. I sometimes have to change his too.  He makes frequent sheet changes necessary. 

And then, add on to the spit up the fact that his poops went from being beautiful, yellow, seedy things to mucousy, green things.  The green maybe wasn't so much a worry (some say yes, some say no), but the mucus was. 

He does have 2 siblings and 2 parents who bring germs home from school, but he's been sick a lot, too.  Snotty noses are frequent with him. 

The one good thing, the wonderful thing that we can really thank our lucky stars for, is that throughout all of this he's been eating and growing and happy.  He's a happy spitter-upper.  He sometimes cries out before he toots, but, a little pressure sometimes causes that doesn't it?  Anyway, he's happy. 

But the blood.  So, I went to the doctor again after it happened twice in two weeks and after a good physical check-over (which showed nothing abnormal on the outside), we decided to do a stool sample analysis.  This came back testing positive for white blood cells (infection) and for blood in the stool. 

So, Vilnis's diet consists of one thing, which is mamma's milk.  That means that likely something that is getting to him from my milk is causing his issues.  So, in order for him to get a special diet, *I* have to have a special diet.  Good thing I love him.

So the first thing to go was dairy, which is the number one cause of gastrointestinal distress in babies.  No more parm on my spaghetti,  no more cheese on my breakfast bagel, NO MORE MILK IN MY COFFEE.   Killing me, dude, killing me.

But I powered through.   I found an "extra milky" soy milk which actually was an acceptable substitute for real milk in my coffee.  I had made it almost 2 full weeks dairy free, and close to a hopeful second stool sample analysis,  when he had another bloody diaper.   I was crushed. 

Not just because I can't have milk in my coffee.  Because I'm so sad that my baby is suffering, even if silently.  I'm so sad that what I'm giving him isn't best for him right now, as it's causing him issues.  I just want him to be ok.  And man, I really hope he doesn't have gut issues forever. :(

So, a quick consult with the pediatrician,  and we've decided that I should cut out soy, and then eggs.  Frankly, at this point, I'm just doing my best to take out both, because I don't particularly want to wait to see soy not make a difference and then wait again to see if eggs do. 

So, my diet is now dairy, soy and egg free.  Can I tell you, this is not easy living in Southeast Asia.   Soybean oil is the favorite, cheap oil to cook EVERYTHING, and of course, soy sauce is in a LOT of stuff.  Dairy is pretty easy to avoid as long as I don't want to eat any complete western meal.  Hold the cheese, hold the butter, hold the milk.  Yeah, I'm just gonna cook at home, thanks. 

So, my special little snowflake, my delicate little flower, baby #3 is demanding more.  He's not letting me get away with feeding him food just off my plate.  He's making me think about what I'm feeding him before I'm actually even feeding him. 

Tonight I whipped up a couple baguettes just so I could have some bread and know it's safe. 

Watch this space for updates.

Baby's first...

Airplane trip! Trip to the beach! Swim in the ocean! Swim in the pool! Stay at a hotel!

A whole lot of firsts for wee 4.5 month old Vilnis.  Trying my best NOT to add sunburn to that list...oh wait, he already had a sunburn once.  Yeah, oops.

It was a first for a lot of us yesterday at the airport when after getting everyone on the plane, we just sat there and sat there and sat there.  Trying to keep the kids occupied, at first I didn't notice that there was actually something going on to delay us.  There had been no announcements made, so I was just focused on the kids.  But then, I realized the lady in the window seat next to me kept taking photos and making videos out the window.  I realized there was a royal air force plane next to us.   I also saw a huge mass of uniformed people standing in perfect lines outside the airport.   And there was a red carpet and a super fancy car.  Finally, 4 choppers flew in, the car drove up to one, drove back to the red carpet.  A person was escorted up the red carpet and into the airport.  A few minutes later the plane got moving.  Actually, that whole thing delayed us by nearly 2 hours.  It should have been only an hour long flight.  Yeah.  Supposedly it was the princess.  The lady next to me thought it was the king, but others said this would be pretty improbable. We couldn't see close enough to tell. 

Anyway....thankfully this trip we chose to stay right near the airport, which means even though we had such a big delay, and arrived much later than we planned,  at least we didn't have to deal with a long car ride after the long plane ride.  Whew.

Now, Zintis woke up sick today - has been vomiting and burning up with fever.  Poor dude is pretty miserable.   :(  hopefully it won't last too long.  Beni had to be taken to hospital once while we were on vacation, so it wouldn't be a first, but, it's not really one we want to repeat.

The joy of possibilities

Yesterday I felt a giant swell of possibility come over me. It was a very welcome and sadly long since not felt feeling. 

I have a friend of a friend in town who is also a teacher.  She has worked at a couple different schools in the time that I have known her.  I've hung out with her a few times in social settings and I get a good feeling from her. 

Being that we're friends of friends,  we also became Facebook friends.  She was intrigued by my nails wraps.  She ordered some in the last big order I facilitated.   Yesterday, I went to drop them off to her. At her work.

Her work.  She recently (less than a year), quit her admin job at one preschool to buy and run her own preschool.  She is deeply dedicated to ideas which fall under the Montessori and Waldorf umbrellas - basically, letting kids be kids, letting them explore, be outside, get dirty,  use their imaginations, etc.

When I walked into her preschool, I looked around and saw lots of happy kids and babies interacting with loads of adults.  They were in the sand,  in the grass, running around chasing balls,  riding bikes and more.   Some were just cuddling.  I heard one parent communicate to her that her child had had a rough night, and she immediately said, "we'll do what she needs today - a longer rest is no problem."

My point?  I immediately got a warm, welcoming feel from this place.  It was nice.  

Now, we all know I'm not really the type to get excited about preschool and even less so daycare.  BUT, sometimes life demands things of you.  Our family's finances get pretty sad when we go down to one wage.  It's something we've agreed on because of how much I need to be with my baby, and Joel knows that, but it doesn't make it any easier on our bank accounts. 

Plus, there is the fact that I really like to shop.  I enjoy buying myself and my kids and my friends things they need, things they want, things they didn't know they needed or would love as much as they do.  Shopping requires money.  Money doesn't grow on trees. But I can earn money! By working! But I have a baby.

This was the problem before...the time to get a full time job for next school year has passed.  And Joel and I both know our family would suffer (because of my inability to work full time, be a good employee  and be a good mom to a baby- NOT because it's not possible for others to do it) if I did go back full time so soon.  So the next choice is subbing.  The school often needs subs and they have been trying to get me back this school year already.   But I'm not leaving Vilnis at this point.  Plus also,  I have no one to leave him with.  He's 4 months old and we don't have a nanny.   You see where this is going.

The dilemma for subbing next year was the child care.   Would we hire a full time nanny, and only make her work on days I got called in?  Would we end up paying her more than I earned some months? Seems silly. 

But now....there is a new possibility.  This preschool/daycare takes children from 6 mos old.  And they take kids on a drop-in basis, with a little warning.  So, if I can SCHEDULE sub jobs ahead of time - when people know they will be out on professional development or unpaid leave or whatever,  then I can pay just by the day for child care! 

This begins to turn into a big win-win - win! 

Vilnis is the happiest, most chill baby ever.  Right now he's sleeping next to me.  He'd already eaten, and was acting very tired,  so I laid him down, popped a paci in his mouth and covered him with a blanket,  and he just fell asleep.  (Let me tell ya, the other 2 NEVER did that!) He is also very social and loves smiling at people and watching his siblings - so he seems like the type of kid who would enjoy an out of home care setting.  It wouldn't be stressful to him.  And thankfully, with subbing, I aways have the option to say no. 

I honest to god wish we were rich, that we didn't have to worry about money, that I could stay home and take care of children and our home and managing our lives.  I'd be happy to fill that role for quite some time.  But it's not the card we've been dealt, it's not a situation we've managed to create.  So, next best thing - finding a way to be able to earn some money, and know that your kid(s) are in good hands.  Win-win.  And that feels really, really good.

Start saving for therapy now

Today started off ok, but got off track quickly.  Beni had a Girl Scout session today.  We were meeting at a Lao textile museum.  It was in a part of town I don't know at all, but I had directions that seemed straightforward so I thought we'd be ok.  We left the house 20 minutes before we were supposed to arrive, knowing it was supposed to be a 20 minute drive.  40 minutes later I was desperately trying to reach someone,  because I officially couldn't find it.  50 minutes later we gave up and headed home.  52 minutes later we got a phone call that uncovered the issue (there was a fork in the road that was not mentioned in the directions. Yeah.).  So, we finally arrived an hour after we left, 40 minutes late.  Needless to say, especially after realizing the problem with the directions,  I was not in a great mood. 

We get in only to see this was the week only 3 other girls made it.  None of Beni's friends.  So she instantly got shy.  Beni is a lot like me in that she can be crazy outgoing and confident, but in a brand new situation with people she doesn't know, she can also get stupidly shy.  When she does this, she clings, she mumbles, she whines, she baby-talks not real words.  She pulls on me and tries to practically get inside me. 

Sometimes, when I am in a good head space, when I can put the baby down,  etc, I can deal with this.  When it's not 500% humidity.  But when we're out and I have the baby and my bag and I'm sweating through my clothes and the lady who is supposed to be leading a tour through this place is useless, so there is nothing for me to even try to engage my daughter in.... and I'm already in a bad mood because I couldn't finish my coffee while driving  and I just spent 40 minutes trying to find this damn place....well.... then I can't handle it. 

I just couldn't.  I couldn't deal.  Stop whining! Stop mumbling! Stop grabbing at me and clinging to me! Tell me what you need.  Why are you being so shy? Aaaaaaaaargh!!!!!!!

Beni ran away crying.  Fuck. 

On the way home a terrible hour later, I tried to talk to her and as soon as I did, she was in tears again and said she didn't want to talk about it.  I finally got it out of her, and she says,

"I just wanted a hug, mamma."

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

What kind of mother refuses her child a hug?

Sigh. 

I apologized.   I told her how I was feeling, and that I was frustrated because she wouldn't talk to me and wasn't actually telling me what she needed.  We talked about it again later after we got home and I could look her in the eye and actually give her a hug.  I think we're ok. 

But... that feeling of being quite sure that you've let down your kid because they needed one thing - and it wasn't money and it wasn't a toy and it wasn't food and it wasn't candy - it was just you.  That's all she needed.   And I just couldn't.  

Tomorrow is a new day?  Tomorrow is a new day.  But, still might start tucking a bit away for those therapy bills. 

Happy Easter... I think?

Yesterday was Easter Sunday.  I wrote this post yesterday, and it wouldn't publish.  So, now I'm trying again.  Bear with me.

The kids woke to find a Thai blessing bowl with assorted chocolates - some of which were shaped like eggs, but not actually Easter eggs (Kinder eggs), some of which were Easter chocolates imported from France, and not a single anything that was shaped like a bunny.  They didn't really ask where the bowls (no baskets to be seen) came from, they were just happy to have chocolate before breakfast. 

Later in the day (after a totally not Easter brunch and a trip to the DVD shop), we went to some friends' house for an Easter egg hunt.  Again, the children super enjoyed running around the yard,  gathering up colorful plastic eggs filled with surprises - chocolate hearts (no, no bulk bags of chocolate eggs to be bought in this town), stickers, m&ms and gummy bears.  There was some mention of a bunny having been seen hopping away, but the frenzy of 6 children running around a yard more able to find things than ever before in their lives, put any stories or questions as to the origin of this magical activity in the background.  Again, more chocolate?  Yay! Mom gets the gummy bears.

So, we have just "celebrated" the most secular Easter ever, perhaps.  And again, I find myself a little annoyed with myself and wondering what were doing. 

On Saturday night before I went to bed, I asked Joel if he would put the bowls together for the kids.  Yes, he said.  Then I asked what we would tell the kids about these bowls.  It was late, and Joel shrugged.  He didn't really know or care - especially not at that point in the day. 

Joel grew up celebrating religious traditions which are not a part of our created family life.  So there's no, "this is what I did growing up, let's do the same with our kids" for him when it comes to Easter.

I grew up celebrating Latvian traditions with roots in the natural world.  Celebrating the spring equinox, the change of the seasons, the rebirth of plants and animals; it all still makes sense to me.  The traditions feel close to my heart and like ones that I am happy to pass on to our children.  So why aren't I? 

It's the dissonance of tradition and reality.  I grew up in an environment (Michigan) very similar to the environment the traditions hail from (Latvia).  The spring equinox is the spring equinox.  But, here is southeast Asia, it's not spring.   If anything most plants seem to be ending a cycle right now, as leaves scatter in massive quantities.  The weather is generally hot, though it was a wonderfully,  surpringly cool weekend this weekend. 

So, celebrating the beginning of spring,  when that is not what I am surrounded by, just seems odd.  While local Laos holidays don't generally appeal to me, it is understandable that the next big holiday, the new year, will be celebrated with water - both to cool off, and to welcome the wet season. It makes sense. 

So...happy Easter?  Happy equinox?  Happy beginning of the hot season?  Happy day of chocolate.  :)

Little things

Beni has a loose tooth.  It's her first one.  It's one of her front bottom teeth - likely one of the first ones she got way back when she was 9 or so months old. 
She's carefully eating on the sides of her mouth, and tried to talk me into believing that she can no longer brush her front teeth, lest she disturb this loose tooth. 

Zintis has a favorite saying.  He says, "true!" It's when he really, really wants you to believe something.   Recent phrases uttered, "Polar bears live in the attic - true!"

Vilnis.  Vilnis exists.  His first mention here.  Vilnis is the happiest baby that ever lived.  He smiles at pretty much every person lucky enough to lock eyes with him.  He will laugh if that person makes a funny noise.  Vilnis is such a third baby.  He demands all my attention, like any baby should, and at the same time is so very chilled out and easy going.  He is currently curled up on the couch sleeping, nursing a pacifier.  He doesn't really use pacifiers.   A few nights ago he fell asleep in my bed during bath time - he was sucking his thumb.  He knows how to do this, and is often sucking and chewing on his hands, but, he's not quite a thumb sucker.  It's as if, he just takes what he can get, and goes with the flow. 

If I can post from my phone....

Perhaps, since I'm never at my computer anymore, but always have my phone near by, perhaps, if I install a blogging app here, I might post some content.  Perhaps?

It does feel like I need to write again.  It feels like there are important and not important things to say.  It feels like, maybe if I can do it from my phone, maybe I will do it.  Perhaps?

We need to talk about this

We need to talk about depression.  We need to talk about mental health.  We need to talk about the things that make us human, that make us who we are, the things that connect or distance us.  Everyone has something.  We need to talk about it.

In the months since I've been formally diagnosed as depressive, and since I started taking anti-depressants, I've swung back and forth on the pendulum of expression.  On the one hand, I've wanted to talk about it, badly, because, I am that way.  On the other hand, it has at times felt like admitting to a failure.  I've worried what people will think about me if they know.  I've worried if they will trust me with their children in my job, or value my opinion as a friend.  You just never know what people will think.

But here's the thing.  This is why we need to talk about it.  Because you know what I realized?  I realized that I am a super successful person.  I'm educated.  I have a Master's degree.  I have a loving relationship with my husband of five and a half years.  We have two children who are, so far, healthy, happy, mostly polite and super smart.  We might not have a ton of money, but our life certainly is rich in experience.  And though we don't live in luxury (of course, depends on your definition), we don't want for things either.  All our needs are met, and many, many of our wants.  I have friends around the world! I have accomplished other goals I've set my mind to- like become a LLL leader, and helping other mothers with not just breastfeeding issues, but loads of other things too.  I am a mother, and my children know I love them. They turn to me for anything and everything, because they know I am there for them. I'm a successful person. And I've done all that, achieved all of that, while battling depression.

I am not a waste of space.  I am not someone to be scared of. I am not someone you can't trust or count on.  I am a successful person who has achieved awesome things, and who also suffers from depression.    

And yes, sometimes my depression makes me feel angry about myself or my life.  Sometimes it gets control and I forget that I am worth anything, because the only thing I can see is a waist line twice as big as it "should be."  Sometimes it's hard to make myself take care of myself.  Sometimes I eat a lot in one sitting and then some more.  Sometimes, it's really hard. BUT, even so- I am still a successful person.

Which is why we need to talk about this.  Because some people just have mood swings, and other people have uncontrollable feelings which need some kind of help- whether that's therapy or medication or something else. But, we're all still people trying to do the best we can and it's nothing to be ashamed of.

So here's me talking about it.  Because on the off chance that you, the person reading this, is someone who respects me, who thinks I'm pretty cool, or pretty great or anything at all positive, then I want you to know, that everything I've done, I've accomplished while battling depression.  And, heck, now that I'm finally treating it, who knows what could happen next.  Watch this space. :)

Is it allowed?

Is one allowed to abandon a blog for 18 months, and then just return and pick up like it never happened?

Well, I might just do it.

I'm feeling productive.  As in, I feel like producing.

Sometimes I wonder what stands between me and the things I do, compared to other people and the things they do.

I hear people say things about how they do stuff because they are compelled to do it, or just can't not do it.  I'm trying to think of anything that could possibly be that way for me. I can not write, I can not read, I can not watch TV, I can not knit or crochet, I can not do yoga, I can not exercise, I can not cook.  I can pretty much not do a lot of stuff.  I can not do anything.

So, what's the difference between me and them? Is it something in my head? In my composition? In theirs?

I love doing all those things, and now and then I'll do any or all of them.  I've been drawn back to this here writing thing just now. But...

Well, let's see if it lasts.

To Zintis on your first birthday

Oh, my dear sweet boy!  You are one!  You are actually now a few weeks past one, but, here I am only writing this now.  Because this is what life is like now.  I hardly ever get around to doing anything I want to do when I want to do it.  There is always something else to do.  But this is important, so, before you're two, here is who you are at one.

You are amazing.  I am absolutely taken with you.  I watch you, and I say to your dad, "He is so fucking perfect."  Yes, I use those words.  Sometimes I say cute, sometimes adorable, sometimes awesome. But the point is, I just can't get enough of you, even though I see you every day.  I tell him we need to have 10 more kids just because you are so cute (ok, we factor your sister in there too, but, this is about you!).

You say Mamma.  You yell it.  You do it when you wake up at night if I'm not there. You do it when you're hungry.  You do it when you're in the backseat and you can't see me.  You yell Mamma all the time.  I love it.  You also say Tetis, although it sounds a bit more like Tdetde. But it's clear what you mean.  We're all waiting anxiously to hear what you will call Beni.  This is the time when nicknames are born.

You walk.  You practically run.  You started walking *just* before you were 11 mos old, and then you quit totally for a week, and then you got back to it, and never went back to crawling.  It was weird really.  But, once you had the walking thing down, you were D.O.N.E with crawling.  In fact, you try to walk everywhere now, including up and down stairs, and it doesn't always work out so well for you.  Luckily, no major injuries have been sustained, but we're here to catch you, most of the time. You know think you're hilarious when you walk backwards, when you run away from someone at any time.  You laugh at yourself.  I haven't seen anyone manage to not laugh with you.

You are so very aware and alert. You watch and you listen and you copy.  I still can't get over how much you understand.  When I ask you if you want to take a bath, you walk to the bathroom (or to the gate at the stairs, and ask to be let through).  When I say it's time to go, you start waving goodbye to people and find your shoes.  When I say it's time to eat, you go straight into the kitchen.  When I ask for a kiss, you come at me with a gaping mouth, ready to slobber all over me, and then smack your lips once you pull away.

You love, love, love the bath.  You scream bloody murder every night when we take you out. Every night.  It gets a little old, but, yay for another water baby.  Your dad is going to start taking you to the pool soon, and teaching you to swim, and I hope you'll love that too.

You love to clean!  It's hilarious!  You walk around with the broom any chance you get.  At home (in Laos) we have little brooms and dust pans that go together that you carry around ALL. THE. TIME.  Of course, you are still at the point of making a bigger mess most of the time when you try to help, but, hey, you're so freaking cute, so we forgive you!

You love to dance.  I fell in love with the band The Lumineers when you were about 6 months old, and then they were all I listened to for a long time.  When you hear the first bars of "Flowers in your hair", the first song on their album, you just start bouncing.  It's hilarious.  I love to watch you try to get the hang of dancing.  Right now, you more so bop up and down, or you walk around.  Most wouldn't call it dancing.  But it's developing, and I can't wait to see where it goes.

When you want something you grunt and groan.  You kind of sound like a monkey.  You do a "oooo oooo ooooo" when you really want something.  You love to brush your teeth.  You HATE diaper changes right now.  You don't particularly like getting dressed, except you love putting on socks and shoes.  This is new to you, because in Laos you basically haven't worn shoes as you never needed them.  We're in Australia during the school holidays, and it's winter, so socks and shoes are a must.  You carry your shoes around and try to put them on yourself. You are completely incapable of doing it, but you try.  And it is adorable.

You're starting to play with cars.  You're even making car noises.  You love balls.  You push around this little wooden "lawnmower."  You love to play with any toy you can push- your walker, your sister's doll stroller.  Heck, you love to push chairs around if you can!  You color and draw too.  It surprises me.  But you hold writing instruments like you've always known what to do. You love animals.  Well, you love watching them.  We've taken you to a zoo and to a farm, and you just sit and watch those animals for hours.  You have a much longer attention span for them than your sister, which is impressive.

You have a weird obsession with bottles.  Shampoo bottles.  Lotion bottles.  Toothpaste tubes.  Diaper cream tubes.  It's the caps you like.  You like to pull them open with your teeth.  Sometimes you try to suck stuff out. It's gross.  But you scream at us when we take them away from you.  Geez.  

You are a cuddly, happy boy.  You've recently discovered the world beyond me.  You love your dad, and will go to him, cuddle him, and kiss him, too.  But you're still my cuddly boy.  You lay your giant head on my shoulder and I hold you close and will you to stay small like this forever.  You smile and you laugh and you're just so, so, so perfect.    

Life has changed in your first year.  Hell, it's been tough.  It hasn't been an easy year for our family.  You were an impossibly large bright spot- but we struggled through financial woes, me going back to work, dealing with your sister who went from terrible twos to terrifying threes.  It's been rough.  But you have brought light and laughter and smiles to life day after day after day.  Now that I am back at work, I miss you terribly in the days.  I let you nurse all night, because I need you close as much as you need me.  That said, I love that you sleep better than your sister ever did.  But I'm not hurrying you to your own bed any time soon.  I'm sad I'm not around to be with you during all the days anymore.  But, the plan is to push through a couple years so that we can eventually have an even better life in just a few years.  Trying to keep my eyes on the prize, and just enjoy you as much as I can in the meantime.

I adore you as a toddler.  I loved you as a baby.  I mean, I was head over heels with you as a baby.  But you're like a drug now.  I want more.  I love watching you grow and learn and do new things.  I'm looking forward to hearing you start talking.  I know that might be a way off... but, you already have those two words and you use some sign language (nurse, more, drink, eat).

You're getting so big.  You're wearing 18-24 months size clothing, your head is humongous.  You eat so well- Baby Led Weaning for the win!  You feed yourself, and you eat all kinds of stuff.  Actually, you've just recently had your first eating "lull" when you went through a phase of not eating much at all, and it was super weird.  The good news is that you are still nursing plenty, which gets me through the eating lulls, but also means that you still smell like baby.  You still have milk breath.  I'm holding on to that.

We have so much fun ahead of us, but, I love you so much the way you are.  You're the best.  In all those years I was scared to have a son, I obviously had NO FREAKING CLUE what a gift you would be.

I love you, baby boy.

Happy birthday.    

Ready to quit!

There are little things that have started to push me over the edge with living abroad.  I already mentioned long ago (maybe the autumn of 2011?) that I was missing being home because I didn't like that my kid was missing out on some traditions and celebrations that just don't translate to other places.

Having had my mom visit recently made me REALLY realize just how much I like having family around.  And yes, by that I do mean my family of origin.  I do adore the family I married into, but, I don't think many would argue the fact that you can't replace your family of origin.  When my mom visited, even though I was going through one of the most stressful transitions I've ever done (going back to work and leaving my kids at home), except for one very bad evening, I maintained a fairly level head that whole time, despite everything else that was going on.  I attribute the ease of the transition 100% to her being here.

There is this thing too, when you live abroad, and you don't have a lot of close people around, where your spouse becomes your everything even more than usual.  A close relationship with your spouse is a good thing, no doubt.  But expecting your spouse to be....I was going to make a list, but, the list of people that your family, friends, and various support groups are in your life is just too long to write out.     It puts needless stress on a relationship.  It can make it harder to get through tough times.  And it does make you closer too, but... yeah, it can be tough.

But, there are these other things that are doing me in right now, beyond missing family and location specific traditions/holidays.  And it's little things.  Like, so little, you're going to shake your head at me... but these are the little stressors that build up over time until you're like, "Holy crap, make it stop!"

While my mom was here the tub that we use in the kitchen sink (because we don't have drain stoppers in the kitchen, and we have never been able to find any that fit, so, we had to finally buy and use a tub) got broken somehow.  It cracked in one corner. I don't know how it happened, but I can tell you this- we hadn't had it that long.  And you're thinking, "What's the big deal? Go get another tub."  Well, fine, I will... but I have to go to THAILAND to get another tub! Yes.  I have to go across the border into another country to get a tub that is the right size and shape for my sink.  And, last time we were in Thailand this happened and then that happened, and I went into this store, and Joel went to that store, and the kids were sleeping, and next thing you know, we're back in Lao and we don't have a tub.  So we're washing dishes with running water again. Until next time.

While we were on vacation last week, we were in Thailand, in Bangkok and with some friends down in Rayong.  It was a lovely 10 days away.  And every night, the kids would have a bath or shower.  Then we'd put their pjs on, and brush their teeth, and we'd brush Beni's hair.  But not before spraying it with detangler.  She has very fine, easily tangled hair- so even just washing it makes it a rat's nest.  So detangler is a must.  Well, guess what?  On our first night back, there was no detangler.  It got left somewhere.  Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!  Now, we're back to using this cheapo brand we got in Australia which should be fine right? I mean, what kid needs $13 a bottle hair detangler?  Well, actually, this cheap stuff, if you use more than 1 spray (you need like 5 for it to work), leaves Beni's hair gunky and nasty.  Like, might as well just not even wash it.  While the $13 a bottle one from the States works fine, even with a good 5 sprays...but as you just read... it comes from the STATES! You can't buy it here.  And now you want to say to me... but come on... it can't be that bad.  HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO BRUSH A LITTLE GIRL'S HAIR WITHOUT USING DETANGLER???? HAVE YOU EVER EVEN SPENT 5 MINUTES WITH MY TODDLER??? Holy mother of God... someone send me some more detangler!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's a freaking global crisis!!! SOMEONE GET US SOME DETANGLER!!!!  (California Baby brand, please!)  You know the real pisser? That bottle was new. My mom only just brought it with her when she came, so we didn't own it for even a month before it got lost, which also means it was basically full.  Which makes me feel even worse of course!

Because also, you think to yourself... "but come on, you're traveling to a foreign country with two children, staying in two different spots, going from place to place literally by plane, train and automobile (and tuk-tuk), you're bound to lose something along the way."  Yes, it's true... traveling with kids like that means something inevitably gets left somewhere... but, it wasn't the lotion, which I have 3 more stockpiled bottles of at home.  It wasn't the soap/shampoo which I can buy here.  It wasn't anything but one of the few things that you can't get here, is expensive, and probably illegal to ship because it's a freaking liquid!  Do you see what I'm saying here???

Now, my point, if you haven't understood it yet, is that I'm losing my mind, and it's these little things that are doing me in.  Obviously, I am WAY TOO UPSET over a tub and some detangler.  But these little things make a huge difference in my life.  They mean being able to wash the dishes with warm water (since only cold comes from the tap, and we have to boil it to have warm). It means being able to SOAK dishes.  It means having only a level 11 (out of 10) tantrum after every bath every night instead of a level 20.

I have been told sometimes that life "back home" is boring- suburbs, shopping malls, tv and McDonald's- boring.  But the longer I stay abroad, the more I think the only reason living in some of the places I've lived ISN'T boring is because life is so freaking hard you don't have time to be bored!  Because you have to spend your time doing things like driving across the border to get a tub.  Or running around to 3 different grocery stores and a couple markets to find all the ingredients you need for a certain dish.

You know what?  I'm ready for easy.  I'm ready for being able to get through things like shopping and laundry and dishes easily.  I'm certainly ready to be near my family again.  Bring on the boring... because boring also includes theater, movies (at the cinema), grocery stores and farmers markets and health food stores coming out my ears, concerts (and I don't just mean the 1 concert a year that everyone goes to because it's the only one to go to- I mean, choose your band, see where they are playing and go!), libraries, parks...eh... another list that is too long to write in its entirety.

So, yeah... this is what's going on inside my head... just in time for us to decide that we probably won't be leaving Lao until 2015 for sure.  So... two more years of "not boring".  *Sigh*  Thankfully there is lots I like about living abroad too... but that's not what this was about....

To Miss Beni, on her 3rd birthday

Sweet child of mine... Oooooooooooooh, sweet child of mine.  Hey, wait, that's a song.

This whole parenting thing, specifically parenting a toddler, is turning out to be, I don't know... crazy? It is crazy.  You drive me absolutely, out of my mind crazy.  You have so often become the most unbearable person ever.  You cry this loud, extra obnoxious, totally fake cry any time you don't like anything.  Even when you cry for a real reason, it is over the top drama- you cry for way too long and in such a way that just makes other people NOT sympathetic to your cause, because the sound grates on the ears like nails on a chalkboard.  You're not aware of this yet though- that you're having the exact opposite effect you're hoping to have.

You're also unbearable because you're mean.  You swat at people- you swat at me.  And you kick.  You splash water directly into someone's face.  You push your brother over, and take every single toy away from him, and close doors in his face.  All he does is follow you around with a smile and adoring eyes.

You're also unbearable because you act so incredibly needy in ways that you are NOT needy, that it is enough to make a parent just want to screeeeeeeaaaaaammmmm!  You obviously want all the attention that your brother gets.  You don't understand the world of difference between you two, and all the things that you can do for yourself that he can't do for himself.  You certainly don't see this as a good thing- you just see him getting lots of attention.  So you do things like refuse to get dressed, refuse to help yourself to water, and so much more.  Crazy-making, I tell you, crazy-making.

But here is the thing.  I get to bitch about you because you're my kid.  And you drive me bonkers. Seriously, I want to ship you away sometimes.  But, I never would or could.  AND, if I hear someone else get down on you- sometimes, even if it's your dad, who has just as much right to feel driven crazy by you as I do- I can't stand it, and I always find myself jumping to your defense.  Because yeah, you suck so freaking often, but, I'm the only one allowed to say that. ;)  Because deep down, for as much as you suck, I know no matter how much you suck, I would still do absolutely anything for you.  Anything.

Because the rest of the story is this.... you are so amazing in so many ways.  But here is what I'm struck by more often than not.  You are so, so, so brave.  You do things every single day that take more courage than your average adult musters once a year.  I mean... you're three, and you don't know how to do anything, and you just keep trying every single day.  We were on vacation last week in Bangkok, and you were doing things like figuring out how the elevator worked, how to ride an escalator without being eaten by it, how to navigate so many strangers being in your face all the time.  You tried new foods and went swimming in a big new pool.  You got yourself dressed plenty of times (because you CAN!), and by golly, the hardest part of all, you asked for help when you couldn't manage it on your own.  You slept on a couch that wasn't your bed, you had your first dental check-up without having even a minor freak out.  You insist on being able to do so many things on your own, even though you don't really know how to do them, and even though you end up having to ask for help.  It's staggering.  Adults spend so much time holding back and being afraid of new things, but you're just out there taking life by the horns, doing ALL THE THINGS.  It's amazing.

You're three, and you are so very independent.  You play by yourself, you dress yourself (although not always to my liking!), you toilet yourself.  Heck, today, you even fixed yourself a bowl of cereal- the whole kit and caboodle, all on your own.  Yes, there were a couple corn flakes on the table as well as a couple drops of milk- but you're 3, and it was ONLY a couple corn flakes and a couple drops of milk. And you sat yourself at the table and you ate.  Technically, if your brother wasn't going to wake me up most days anyway, this means I could sleep in on Saturdays now, because you can get your own cereal! That's a huge milestone!

But even with all your independence, you are a very sensitive and loving little girl (when you want to be), and you need us, of course.  Even though you've been sleeping in your own bed for a good 6 mos now, you still come to our bed most nights.  We don't even wake up anymore, because, you just wake up, get up without crying, and climb in to our bed.  It's easy.  And, even though it goes against all the "rules", your dad and I love waking up to you there.  Sometimes your dad gets a stiff neck or something, because you insist on cuddling up to him, and he insists on trying to not be a cuddler... but still, waking up with our whole family in one bed is something we know won't last for much longer.  So we cherish it.  And, it's a beautiful thing to see you ask for the love you need.  That's another thing so many adults can't do.  But you ask for hugs and you ask to be held, and that is a good thing.

Our nursing relationship recently ended.  The truth is, I'd been ready for it to end for months now, but I had always promised myself that I would let you self-wean, and so I waited. For the last 6 or so months you'd only nursed at bedtime- and only for a few minutes at that.  Your latch wasn't that great anymore, and your suck was so different than your brothers, it often irritated me. When we went on vacation, you just didn't nurse the first night.  I did bedtime with you and Zintis at the same time- I nursed him, and you just laid down, and I sang a lullaby and you both went to sleep.  And so for the next 10 days, that is what happened every night.
 
When we got home from our vacation you asked to nurse again, I think mostly because it was just habit for you, but we talked about it.  We talked about how you hadn't nursed in 10 days, and how you'd slept just fine.   I offered to cuddle and sing you a song, and you agreed.  But as soon as I started singing, you started talking.  You were talking about nursing.  So we talked about it for a while- we talked about how when you were a baby you nursed so, so, so much, all the time.  And then you got older and you didn't nurse as much, and now you're a big girl and you don't need it at all anymore!  I asked you if you'd gotten enough milk for your belly after all that time and how much milk you'd had.  You said yes.  So I asked you if you'd gotten enough milk for your heart too, and you laughed and said yes.  Because I know as well as you do, that nursing to the age of 3 is about more than milk.  It's about you and me, and knowing that I will always be here for you.  It's about trust, it's about love and it's about you being my first baby for ever and ever and ever. Weaning, mostly self-led with this little nudge from me to get you over that last bump, is about all those same things. It's about your growing up, and being ready for bigger and more things.  But it is oh so much about you still knowing that I am here for you.  Because you got your fill, you got what you needed, and now, we can move on together.  

When I recorded the story of your weaning in your baby book, I cried.  Because you are getting bigger by the day, and that tiny squish of baby that I brought home from the hospital is long gone.  Because our relationship has changed so, so, so much over the last three years, and it will continue to change, and while it's all good, I mourn the ease of the relationship we once had.

More than just you is changing around here.  I've gone back to work, and it's been hard.  It's only 3 weeks into our new routine, and we're definitely all still adjusting, but so far, it is very, very hard.  And I'm sad that I feel like I'm not doing a very good job of rising to the challenge.  Being with 20 other kids all day is super draining, so I come home tired.  I come home tired because neither you or your brother sleep through the night yet regularly, so I don't get as much sleep as I need either.  So I'm tired, and I don't have much patience.  And, just in case you're not aware, the hours of approximately 4-7 are the hours when you and your brother get possessed by the devil.  You're tired and hungry, and you've had a long day of being brave, so, you just want what you want by then. So we meet at these hours, all of us tired and cranky and lacking patience, and more than anything, so far, we just butt heads, and yell and cry, all of us.  It really isn't pretty.  I'm trying to get better at being a better mom in those hours, I really am, because, otherwise I cry after you're in bed too. I don't want to let you down so much, and I don't want the bulk of our interactions Monday-Friday to be so negative.  It's really not what I want for us.  So I'm trying to rise above myself, to get to the other side, but I am failing right now.  Thankfully, summer is around the corner, and we'll have weeks to chill together again.  Weeks of spending days together, days full of smiles and laughter that make up for the 4-7pm hours of devilishness.  I'm not waiting for summer to make things better, but I'm glad to know it's coming, to know that things WILL be better then for sure.  But I am trying now too.  I really am.  Someday, I hope you don't look back wondering why I was so crappy, but if you do, I hope you find this sentence and know that I swear to you, I want to do better for you, but getting past my own humaness is big.  And I am trying.  The most important thing is that you know you are loved.  I know I'm screwing up every day in so many ways, but if you know you are loved, it will all be ok in the end.

Like I said, kid, this parenting thing- especially parenting a toddler- it's wild.  It's hard.  And yet, it can be so much fun, that it makes you forget how crazy you are the rest of the time.  Which is good- very, very good.

So here's to being three.  Here's to being independent and brave and so dependent, and even more brave.  Here's to growing up, to looking forward to new things (you know you're starting school in August, and you're pretty excited about it.  It'll be another very big step!).  But here's to you always being my baby, and being forever and ever and ever in my heart- because you are, and you will be, no matter how crazy you make me.

Bucas, Pile!

Mamma  

It isn't every day...

It isn't every day someone comes to visit when you live abroad.  It isn't every day someone finally GETS little detail things about your life when you live abroad. Because in so many ways, the way we live is so very much exactly as we would if we were anywhere else in the world, but there are so many tiny little things that make it so our daily lives here are SO different than they would be back home.

Mom is here, and it is wonderful, wonderful, wonderful to have her here.  Too good to even get into.  So just posting pictures.

 Breakfast at the Spirit House

Then a visit to the Buddha park...

 

It takes a village

It will come as no surprise, that the longer I do this parenting thing, the more I understand what is meant by the phrase, "It takes a village to raise a child."

The phrase always seemed kind of obvious to me before- of course, none of us can do it on our own.  Not even as couples can we meet all the needs of a growing child.  I got it.  But ooooeeeee, do I GET it now.  And I can only imagine, how much more I will get it, come the teenage years.  Anyway, that's another post.

Anyone who knows me, knows that my take on babies is that they should be with their mother.  Pretty much full stop.  I have no proof, but I think babies and mammas do better (in the big picture) when they are together most hours of the day.  So why would that take a village?  Well, because while mamma is so busy taking care of the baby, someone ELSE has to be taking care of the big kids, taking care of the house, taking care of meals, taking care of earning a living. There are lots of times when I think more than anything, the village just has to SUPPORT parents.  They don't have to do the actual hands on work with the baby, they have to do the behind the scenes stuff of the house and family.

I am so grateful for all the help I've had that came in this shape from my parents, friends, in-laws... it is invaluable!

But there is more to this supporting the parents.  And I've realized recently that it also comes in the form of talking- emotional, been there/done that/its normal/you'll survive kind of support.  Modern life, with all of us living in our own little houses behind closed doors, is just so good for letting us only show the good. But, I am sure, that back in the day, when we lived in villages, when things were, I don't know, just different than they are now, mammas and daddies couldn't help but share what was going on.  I've hit some pretty big emotional walls recently, and found myself staring into the abyss of, "Why am I the only one who feels this way?  Why can't I do this just like all my friends do?"  But come to find out, the stuff I'm feeling, as well as the stuff I'm up against, is actually pretty normal.  I'm not the only one feeling that way.  But it's just, no one was really talking about that stuff.  And it took me really laying out all my vulnerabilities and admitting to my friends that I thought I was suffering some form of super anxiety for them to admit to me, that no, they feel that way too.  Sigh of relief.  It stinks that in parenting (maybe especially modern day parenting, when parents are expected to do so much more than just parent) we come up against so much hard stuff, and we're not allowed, by some unwritten rule, to talk about it.

On this same note, when you're dealing with a phase with one of your children, especially if it is your first, it is so easy to feel like first, no one else has ever had to deal with this, and second, that it is your fault.  It stinks.  When Beni was whatever age, and still not sleeping through the night by any stretch, I did feel like she was the only child her age that wasn't doing it, and I definitely blamed myself.  And then one day, my mom finally told me that I didn't sleep through the night until I was at least 18 mos old.  Suddenly, to find out my daughter might just be like me... well, phew.  Honestly, it made me feel a lot better.  Older generations aren't doing us any favors by not telling us what we were like as kids ourselves.  My mom was a stay at home/work from home mom for our first years, and when she and I talk about what it's like to be home all day with more than one child, and she can still NOW remember the desperation, exhaustion and frustration that accompanied so many days, it makes me feel like far less of a failure.  Because if there is one thing I know about my mom, it's that she is a good mom.  So if she felt that stuff, and still remembers it 30 years later... maybe I'm not doing so badly.

So that's my take on emotional support- yes, I place it first in importance over physical support. But, physical support is no doubt important as well.  The biggest way in which this has hit me lately, is when dealing with a demanding toddler.  What I wouldn't give to be able to drop her off at my mom's house a few mornings a week!  My goodness! Actually, this would come as emotional and physical support.  I never really feel that way about my babies, but, apparently, I do not have the necessary patience to remain in control (of myself) when I'm dealing with a toddler 24/7.  It's a whole other ball game, and if you ask me, it's a hell of a lot harder!  Seriously, when someone spends almost the entire day yelling at you, working against you, etc, it's hard to like them at the end of the day.  Thank goodness they're so cute when they're asleep- it their saving grace! But of course, if I wasn't spending all day with her, it would be a lot easier.

But see, this is where my own parenting philosophy just makes things a tad more complicated- I also don't think she "needs" school right now, and I KNOW I don't need work. ;)  It's not that either of us is lacking for some other kind of interaction- we maybe just need some interaction with other people. Which is why, being able to drop her with a grandparent would be perfect.  She would still get the one on one time she needs with a VIP in her life, and I would get a break from her, to remember how much I love her. :)

There is another aspect to the village here though which is so important, and maybe more and more as the children grow.  Which is that I am not, cannot be, and should not be everything to my kids- I won't be able to meet all their needs, or even all their interests.  Even now, it has already been pretty well marked out- I'm the carer parent- not exclusively- but much more so than Joel.  When it comes to taking care of food, clothing, hygiene, and bumped heads and bruised knees, the kids turn to me.  Middle of the night comforting? Me.  However, when it comes to playing? That's all Joel.  Ok, not exclusively.  I do play with my kids, but mostly, it's not the main way I choose to interact with them.  We cuddle and snuggle and talk, and when they actually want to play, they go off on their own, or find someone else.  They have lots of go to play people, so that I don't have to be.  I will sit and read books because, hello, totally my thing.  Go outside and shoot hoops?  Ask your father.  I also am not going to be the person who teaches my kids how to fish or hunt, play most sports, or change the oil or tire on their car.  And I'm ok with that.  There are a LOT of other people in our village that can do all of that- and who will do it much better than I ever could!

I was talking to a couple other moms today about how the "it takes a village" principle applies when you don't actually live in your village.  One mom said, "Yeah, back home you can count on family, they're your village.  Here, you have to hire your village."  Sigh.  Yeah, that's the thing right there.  I don't want to hire my village.  It's not that I don't want my kids to have meaningful relationships with anyone other than myself. It's that, especially at this young age, I would rather they had meaningful relationships with meaningful people.  Yes, yes, we made this bed...

Anyway, it just gives me more drive to get us back to the States.  My children's village will never be easily defined, because it will always span the world.  But, for daily life, I think there is a better way to do it, than what we have right now.  And I think that involved family.  I guess I could end on another cliche- having kids changes EVERYTHING!

Update in 5 parts

Zintis: Almost 5 months old now, he's amazing.  He is so big!  Of course, I only have his sister to compare him to, and he's way bigger than she was at his age.  Actually, he was bigger at 4 mos, than she was at 6 mos!  He's not a chunky baby, but he's solid and tall.  I just started the process of moving him up to 9 mos size clothes.  I think he might actually be growing as I write this RIGHT NOW.  The last few days he's been very nearly either eating, sleeping or crawling.  Definitely seems like a growth spurt!
Also, he's crawling!!  Only an army crawl right now, but still.  He's very intentionally moving himself forward- dragging himself with his forearms, and helping push himself along with his toes.  It is ridiculously cute, and amazing. :)
He's very interested in what happens around the dinner table, which I know is a sign of his natural baby curiosity, not of hunger.  He tries to grab food and plates all the time.  It's awesome.  I'm excited because I plan to do Baby-Led Weaning with him (yes, because I pretty much hated the whole experience of purees with Beni- it was stressful, and I have no intention of repeating it!).  Yesterday he actually managed to grab a handful of my salad- some lettuce and carrots and dressing- but I took it away from him.  Not quite yet, buddy!
He drools and gums thing in the style that has everyone constantly saying, "Oh, does he have a tooth coming through?"  But, there is no sign of any actual teeth yet.  No doubt they are moving below the surface, but, none coming through yet.  And, if you look at his gums, the biggest lumps he has under his gums are at his cuspids- not in the front on top or bottom.  It will be interesting to see where the first tooth pops through.  It is rare that children teeth "out of order" but it certainly does happen.
He continues to smile, smile, smile and watch the world go by.  He is very alert, and very intent on watching.  People comment on it a lot.  Hopefully, it's a sign of his amazing intellect. :)

Benita: Officially two and a half now!  Fully day potty trained, and working toward waking up dry.  It isn't happening yet, but, she's waking up with a much lighter diaper than she was for a while there, so maybe soon. She is still sleeping in her own bed, though most mornings she comes into our room around 6 or 6:30 (when Joel is up already anyway), and snuggles in.  Sometimes she'll fall back asleep for an hour, and sometimes she'll just climb on us, talk to us and sing loudly until we wake up (this applies to weekends, of course).  She seems to do better overall on the days that she sleeps a little longer, but what can you do.  So hard to tell a kid they'd feel better if they just kept sleeping.
We had an afternoon the other day when on the way home from running some errands she was just sitting in her seat screeching about nothing.  I told her right then and there that she was acting that way because she was tired because she hadn't taken a nap that day.  She quieted down and listened to what I was saying, but, I doubt that it will have any impact next time she's telling me she doesn't want a nap.
She is starting to get very interested in letters.  She can and does recognize the letter B in print anywhere she comes across it.  I taught Kindergarten long enough to know there are 5 year olds out there that don't recognize letters, so I'm pretty impressed with her.  She had me writing out her name and her cousin Gabe's names the other day- when she saw the B in Gabe's name, she said, "Oh, Bubba has da B, too!"  She's so smart!
But oooeeee, does she have a temper.  She goes from zero to screaming at an inanimate object in 2.2 seconds.  She gets so frustrated when she can't get something to work like she wants it to, or like she thinks it should.  I don't know where she gets that from. ;)
She talks in lovely full sentences- except on Skype, where she stares blankly at the screen, only to talk up a storm as soon as we've said goodbye to whomever we were talking to. She repeats things she hears whether on tv or said by us.  She has started experimenting with using angry words, which I prefer to using angry touching (hitting, kicking, etc).  When she does this I can ask her if she is angry, without having to reprimand her actions.  It's very interesting to watch.  She is also repeating loving words though.  The other night at bedtime while giving Joel a hug goodnight she said, "My best, best friend!"  This is from a show called Giggle and Hoot that has a snippet and song about best friends, but it was more than heartwarming to hear her say it to her dad.  We can only hope that feeling lasts a long, long time for her.  Joel and I find ourselves listening to her and smiling at each other often.  She has a very creative imagination, and she seems to remember a whole lot.  She makes up stories, or repeats things that happened days ago.
I'm not big on fostering independence in very small children, except, I realize, in one thing- play.  And Beni does really well with this.  Her imagination takes her all over, and she certainly has enough stuff to fuel the fire.  That said, recently, her favorite things to do are to go outside and play in her sandbox and swing on her swing (which she does by herself), to use toilet paper and paper towel tubes as clothing, telescope and horn (by herself), to read books (by herself), or to play with her dolls- which she often does by copying when I am actively taking care of Zintis in some way.  It really is amazing to watch her.

Joel: Working like crazy.  His schedule at school is non-stop.  He barely gets any time to pause during the day, he works through his lunch hour doing extras (basketball practices and so on), he does more than his fair share of after school activities, and of course he's fulfilling his duties as classroom teacher.  Beyond all that, he is teaching swimming lessons to lots of kids around the city now in their private pools.  His intentions are the best- he's doing what he gets paid to do, he's doing what he sees a need for that no one else is stepping up to the plate to do, and finally, he's taking on the swimming lessons to both further support our family, and again to meet a great demand in the community.  He comes home every day absolutely spent.  It's tough.  We're all hoping that he might get to move from being a classroom teacher to PE teacher next school year.  It's a change he's been hoping for for a couple years now, and one that would rekindle his spirit a bit to where he might not be so completely exhausted when he came home, but instead tired but sort of invigorated by what he's done all day.
He's still nursing an injury he received in his regular, twice weekly, social basketball game.  He took an elbow straight to the jaw joint, which sort of impacted it or something.  At first we thought it was dislocated or broken. Then we found out it was just very badly bruised and swollen, but it was bad enough that he couldn't talk or eat.  His hectic schedule keeps him away from home a lot more than the kids and I would like him to be, so it's nice for US to have him not going to basketball for a few weeks while that heals, but, I know he misses it.

Mara: Plugging along doing what I do.  Nothing too special or impressive.  Mommying two kids, and trying to take care of myself and the house.  Some days it's overwhelming and some days it's good.  I started exercising in early September.  I set up a schedule for myself- I started with 4 days a week, and after 8 weeks, I moved to 5 days a week- and have kept to it religiously.  I haven't missed a single workout in that time, which frankly, I'm still impressed with.  I do short 30 minute workouts on the days I do them, but apparently they are working to some extent.  I haven't really lost any weight, but I just found out the other day that I have taken about 2 inches off my belly.  I'm quite happy about that!  And I am stronger and more fit- I can feel muscle definition below my layer of soft, even if I can't see it.  It feels good to know I am taking care of myself, to know I am modeling this positive behavior for my kids, to know I am doing what I can to be able to be there for them, and eventually to still be able to run around, go for walks, play on the floor, etc, etc with my grandkids, too.  It's hard to think about grandkids when your own children are only tiny, but, I know the time will come faster than I think.
I'm facing an end to my "cushy" (said with a bit, but not too much, sarcasm) stay at home mom lifestyle.  Our family's finances are begging for a second income, and given being able to work out childcare, etc, it looks like I will be heading back to work part-time.  It's a bit frustrating because the options for part time work around here are not as many as they might be elsewhere.  It pretty much comes down to doing substitute teaching at school.  It's not a bad gig, well, I don't think so, I haven't actually done it yet, but, I might choose some other option if I was in the States.  In any case, at this point it seems we may have found ourselves an English-speaking nanny, who will be available to us in April, when the family she is working for now, leaves Vientiane.  So, I have until then to enjoy still being at home, to nurse Zintis without the added responsibility of pumping, and to not worry about how someone else will take care of my kids differently than I do.
In sort of big news, after 11 years as a strict vegetarian, I have added fish back into my diet.  It was a pretty big deal for me, and it took a couple weeks of thinking about it and talking about it with several different people before I finally did it.  My first meat in so long was a tuna sandwich.  I ate it happily, having said a small thanks to the fish that gave its life for my lunch, and I felt fine afterwards.  Since then I have had tuna several more times, and I also had a prawn curry the other night.  Prawns were always one of my favorite meat foods, so taste-wise I was excited to welcome them back into my diet.  The curry was excellent, and I see myself enjoying a lot more fish, especially while we're still living here in Asia.  Although, I also foresee that most of my fish-enjoying will be in restaurants as Joel does not particularly care for fish, and so far, Beni doesn't either.  So, tuna, lots of tuna, at home, and salmon and prawns and who knows what else, when we're out.  And of course, I'm actually still eating plenty of vegetarian meals as well.  I have no intention of giving up the health benefits that come along with a mostly plant-based diet.  I still love tofu and tempeh and eggs and beans, and will continue to eat them as often as I can instead of animal proteins.  I can see that eventually I might add back in some other meats when we have access to my family's hunts, etc... but for now, I think I will stick with fish.

All of us: We're looking at moving back to the States.  Yep.  We've begun gathering papers for the application process for Joel's green card.  We're looking at how we would make it work financially, and how we would have to plan baby #3 around that.  We're looking into job opportunities for myself and Joel.  But, we also just signed on for another year in Laos- so the earliest we would be back in the States is June 2014, which is kind of a long way off still.  It's exciting and anxiety producing at the same time.  There are a lot of things about it that I'm looking forward to, and a lot of things I know I'll miss about living abroad when we leave that behind.  But there is that saying, "If mamma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."  I know that happiness isn't found based on any one place, but, creating circumstances in your life that support your happiness can make a difference.  Luckily, Joel likes the idea of living in the States as well, as long as we can figure it out financially, so we're good there.  I know the kids will love having more family around too (although we will DEFINITELY miss Jon, Courtney and Gabe!), and all the opportunities (you know, like, parks, libraries, sidewalks, movie theaters, playgroups and classes and clubs, etc) that living in the States will afford them.

 So that's the update on us.  Lots going on.  Lots of big and little things to think about, try to remember, to enjoy.  Although we also have plenty to worry about, we are definitely a blessed family, and we know it.                        

And nobody died

Beni slept in her own bed, in her own room last night, and nobody died.  (Yes, for a long time I've been pretty sure that not sharing air with her would result in one of us dying at night, and the same goes for Zintis now.  We all have our thing!)

She's sick now.  Hand, foot and mouth disease (HFMD), I think.  But she's also got a snotty nose, and is just over a fever.  And this HFMD causes sores on the body, including in the mouth/throat, which can be extremely painful.  So it's no wonder she wasn't sleeping that great.  But, apparently I reached my limit.  Or something.  I reached my limit of watching Joel suffer the lack of sleep.

So yesterday she and I gussied up "her" room some more- enough so that it could be called her room.  We brought a shelf into it (guest room bed is now covered in towels, sheets and blankets- must find a place to put those!), and brought up a bunch of her soft toys and books.  We added a few pictures to the headboard as well as her water bottle, a little lamp, a box of tissues and the monitor.  It still needs stuff on the walls to really feel like a little girl's room, but, it's good for now.

I was dead set then, that she would sleep in that bed last night.  And she did.  She did not want to.  She told Joel right away that she had no intention, so I re-took-over bedtime, and used that special mommy voice that reminds a kid, "we talked about this, we worked on this, and now you're going to do it!"  So we filled her bed with friends, said goodnight to family in the pictures, got a drink, went to the toilet again, and then I sat in the chair by the bed while she fell asleep. She played with all her noise making toys for a while, but about a half hour later, she finally drifted off.  She woke up a handful of times between then and 1am, and I went to her, gave her drinks and hugs and more medicine when the time was right, and put her back in bed.  After 1am, she slept until morning- when Joel left at 7am he went in and gave her a kiss on the cheek, but she was still sleeping when he left.  (This is actually quite a normal sleeping pattern for her.  There is NO doubt in my mind that she will eventually sleep just like her father- late to bed, not so many hours sleep needed, taking extra hours in the morning, if ever.)

So she did it.  And I did it.   And that is a big deal.

Part of what spurred this was my increasingly not-nice reactions to her middle of the night screaming, but also an article I read on HuffPost yesterday.  Something about how sometimes giving to our children actually means taking something away.  Like, they'll NEVER learn to do things for themselves (clean, cook, WHATEVER) until someone gives them a chance to learn these things- which means not doing it for them.  The author extended this idea to letting them soothe themselves to sleep. I don't agree with her note of "leaving them to scream, so they can figure out that they can soothe themselves", but I do agree that, in our situation, we had gotten to a point where Beni could try out being in her own sleeping space- and just seeing what that felt like.  And who knows, maybe it will lead to something else... like if she wakes up and sees she in her own space with her animals, she'll think, "Hmm, maybe I should cuddle them instead of sitting here screaming."  Maybe. Maybe not.  I guess we'll see.

I have to say though, waking up this morning to realize that we'd had quite a nice long stretch of sleep, and that she had survived the night in her room, and that we would most likely try to repeat it again every night in the near future also made me think of  this HuffPost article. And it made me hope and pray that the night she spent screaming in our bed, with me trying to tell her over and over again that I was right there and WHAT DO YOU WANT and then putting my hand over her mouth just to block the full impact of that horrible full-throated, unabashed cry-scream was not the last night she ever spends in our bed.  Yes, "we" do want her to move toward her own bed, but, I hope and assume that we will welcome her back for a nicer, calmer, more loving last time sometime soon.  Ugh, I hope.

I guess both of those articles made me think about the things we do for our kids, and at what cost.  I want my children to grow to be independent and capable.  I do.  But, I also believe there is plenty of time for them to learn certain lessons.

But, in any case, I just hope she sleeps, in my bed, her bed, someone's bed.  Just sleep. :)



Update: She did it again last night- two nights in a row.  But last night I did have to get up several times to go to her.  But, she's still sick, and needed meds every time.  Poor thing.