Radio Silence

I realize I haven't blogged much lately.  I am still attempting to make sense of our new life.  So much has changed, and I am trying to figure out my role.

I know it sounds crazy.  How could so much change with a simple geographical move?  But nevertheless, it has.  Allow me to try to explain…

When I became a stay at home mom, I was out of sorts.  I had been used to a very structured, productive day.  I received professional feedback, had regular paychecks, and enjoyed lovely dinners with my husband.  Then we had our first baby, moved across the country, and I decided to stay home.  Of course, my world was turned upside down.  It took me a long time to feel "normal" again.  I actually felt better after our second baby was born 18 months later.  I found my routines.  I felt useful.

And here I am again.  Only this time, we moved across the world.  My roles and routines, so clearly defined after having four children, are all askew again.  Many of my daily responsibilities have disappeared.  I still buy the food, give the baths, help with homework, wipe the tushes, cut the hair, but my other jobs have been outsourced.

In Singapore, they call live-in domestic employees "helpers."  Fairly Godmother would be a more apt title.  I haven't written about the experience much for two reasons.  One is that I want to respect her privacy.  The other is that I still feel uncomfortable on some level about having help.

I am unworthy of this gift.  I wish I could somehow share this blessing with all of my hard-working friends and family back home.  I just feel weird, like a First Lady who was simply a wife/mother/employee one day, and the next, someone's washing her underwear.  Weird!

Another reason I haven't written much is that we have been traveling a lot.  I am torn.  I don't want to brag.  I feel like if I put travel blog post or pictures on Facebook, I would be tempted to feel prideful about them.  At the same time, I really want to record these experiences.

For years our "family vacations" consisted of camping out.  We loved it!  Some of our best memories were made watching babies crawl around muddy campsites and roasting marshmallows. These days, vacations are very different.  Aaron's work allows us one paid trip home per year.  If we choose to spend those dollars on other trips, that's okay.  It's not that we don't want to come home.  We have four children ages 7 and under.  A 23 hour travel day is not something we wish to endure right now.  So, instead, we've been exploring closer Asian islands.

I want to share those experiences, but I don't want folks to get the wrong impression.  We're still the Rausch's.  We buy our appliances at the secondhand store here, and I love to find a deal at the Japanese dollar (well $2) store.  We have half a reindeer minivan.  (Jack rolled down his window and we lost an antler on the expressway and we're too cheap to replace it.)  I ask visitors to pack items in their suitcases I refuse to buy here (cosmetics, sunscreen, etc.) because they are so over-priced.

This is our life right now.  It's wonderful and weird.  It's still messy (since many Asian bathrooms don't have changing tables and the cuisine doesn't always agree with Caleb's tummy).  I hope you'll still come along for the ride.  I hope you'll enjoy the stories about our travels and know that I wish you were right here beside me the whole time.

Gone!

I lost two kids today.  Caleb and Jack.  Gone.

It had been a hectic morning.  Where's my uniform shirt?  Am I supposed to wear red shorts today?  Are we going to get to school early so I can play like when I ride the bus?

We arrived so early, in fact, we had front row seats in the auditorium.  Front row seats with a 3 year old and 1 year old, hmmm …  I informed Jack before the show started that if Caleb began to cry I would exit to the right and that he was to follow me without a peep.  Perfect plan, right?

Needless to say we spent the entire program in the back of the auditorium, where Caleb cried and thrashed and I hissed at Jack to stop stomping up and down the risers.  Caleb's wails were so loud at one point that I stepped outside a nearby door.  Only to learn that it locked behind me.  With Jack still inside.  Ugh!  I raced around the auditorium, slipped back in and crouch-walked my way past camcorders to where Jack was still (thankfully) sitting.

By the time we got back to Parker's classroom for the tea and cookies, I felt as though I'd run a marathon.  Dispensing insane amounts of sugar to my three boys, I sighed with relief and allowed myself to relax and socialize with some of the parents.  I was so proud of my guys.  Parker was helping Jack with his candy wrappers; Caleb was toddling contentedly behind them.  The classroom was filled with parents, children, and festive decorations.  Christmas music was playing.  It was wonderful.  I met one of Parker's classmate's parents with their newborn baby.  Did I want to hold him?  Um, is the Pope Catholic?

So there I am, precious newborn babe in my arms, chatting it up with the parents, when I look around and notice I don't see Caleb or Jack.  Hmmm…I bent to look under tables.  Surely they were behind that couch.  Under a desk?  They can't open the doors, can they?  No one would have allowed them out, right?

I handed the sweet baby back and fought the panic rising in my chest.  "Jack?"  "Caleb?!"  "Has anyone seen my one year old and three year old?"  Blank stares.  "I'm not going to freak out," I squeaked.

I hastily kissed Parker goodbye and hightailed it out of the classroom frantically searching the halls.  A teacher at the end of the hall wearing a Santa hat and smile said, "Oh the boys in the striped shirts?  They're with ______ (in my panic I neither heard nor cared about the name)."  I raced down the hall in the direction he pointed.  Dead end.  I ran back to the teacher, heart pounding.  "Oh," he said absently, "I'm sure they probably took them to the front office…"

More running.  Darn you double stroller and slow elevator!  I burst through the door to the office to see the boys happily wandering around, staff smiling.

"I'm so sorry!" I panted.  "I-I didn't realize they got out - could get out!  I-"
I swooped them into my arms and kissed their faces.   Then to Jack, "How did you get out?  Did you open the door?  Did you let Caleb out??"

"I jus wanted go in the hallway.  I'm jus sorry, momma."

Never have I been more grateful to live in Singapore.  Some call it "Disney with the Death Penalty."  It is beautiful, clean, and thanks to their extremely harsh punishments for breaking the laws, it is ridiculously safe.

No one was at all concerned that I had misplaced two very young children.  What?!  For once I was grateful I wasn't in the States.  That said, I am pretty sure I am going to need to put Jack and Caleb on leashes when we are in public.  Sheesh!  

To My Big Birthday Girl

Dearest Maddie,

I have put off writing your birthday post.  For over a month.  I didn't forget.  I wasn't too busy.  I was waiting... for the perfect post.  Then I realized, that post was not coming.

You see, in my head, I had planned to create at least 18 blog posts documenting your perfect birthdays.  Friends, family, beautiful decorations.  All-American birthdays with candles and cakes, and everyone smiling.

The truth is, this year was very different.  Not better, not worse; just different.  For starters, we moved from temporary housing (where we'd been for our first 2 months in Singapore) into our permanent home on your actual birthday.  Boxes and movers everywhere.  Since the muffin tins were still packed, I couldn't bake your cupcakes for school this year.  Instead I brought donuts.  You were ecstatic.

Grammy arrived that night around 1AM.  Early Friday morning before school you ripped open your presents from Grammy and Aunt Natalie and Uncle John.  You also opened gifts from Pappy, Grandma and Grandpa, and mom and dad.  You couldn't wait to get home from school to play with them!  (Of course, you couldn't play for very long because it was Halloween after all, and even toys can't stand in the way of sugar!)

Months before our move, when we first learned we would be living in Singapore, you immediately began to beg for a birthday party on the beach.  Halloween took up one weekend, the next we were traveling to Borneo, so your party was a few weeks late.  We took a family picnic dinner to the beach, with cupcakes, and tons of icing and sprinkles, so you could decorate your own.  We sang happy birthday and built sand castles as the sun sank low in the sky.  Palm trees and wild ostriches were your decorations this year.

Recently you received your first party invitation to a classmate's birthday celebration.  The agenda was quite creative and elaborate.  My heart sank just a bit.  I vowed to wait until I could throw such a party for you before writing your post.

But time marches on.  You are growing older and more lovely each day.  I can't wait for the "perfect" moment or party to document our lives.  You were perfectly content with your non-traditional birthday celebrations.  So I will be, too.

You find joy in so many things I tend to overlook.  I hear you excitedly teaching your younger brothers words and letters and giving them stickers for their efforts.  You notice and carefully collect fallen flowers along the sidewalk.  You constantly think of others, drawing pictures for them, making bead necklaces, or even giving your toys away.

We have our moments where we lock horns (particularly in the mornings when you don't want your hair brushed or sunscreen applied).  We yell.  But we also hug.  We make up.  We squeeze hands three times to silently say "I-love-you."  You still want to be carried, and girlfriend, you have some heavy bones, but I will gladly lift them up and carry you as long as you ask.

Sweet Maddie, thank you for being you.  For being thankful.  For being my darling little 6 year old girl.

On a positive note...

Today was a great day on so many levels!  First, I left a group on a social media site that was creating a ton of negativity in my life.  I had joined the group to obtain information about the expat community in my new home, and to be fair, I did learn some very useful things.  However, on the whole, it was not good for me.  I allowed the "squeaky wheels" to color my view of all Singapore expats.

No more!  I will happily find my new friends one face-to-face encounter at a time.  I spent the entire day today with some awesome expats.  We went on an outing to the Gardens by the Bay children's park.  The park was truly incredible.  I've been to spray grounds before but none exactly like this.  It was huge!  Music was playing, and the kids were having so much fun, I decided to join in - fully clothed!

Then we went up inside these enormous tree-like structures crawling with beautiful vines and flowers and walked across a suspension skybridge for a gorgeous view of the city.

We finished with lunch and ice cream for the kids.  I didn't even get lost on the way home.  So thankful for such a positive day!

P.S. For those of you who might have been wondering, I never felt slighted or judged by anyone here.  My previous entries reflected my frustrations about expat comments regarding the treatment of their helpers (which I viewed as incredibly prejudiced and ugly).  In my pride, I, too, unfairly judged an entire group of people.

To my friends back home

To my dear, dear friends and family,

I.miss.you.  I know, I know; it takes time to develop true, close, lasting friendships.  Blah, blah, blah.  In our Amazon-Prime-2-day-free-shipping world, I was kind of hoping I could just place an order, and *poof* intsta-friend would be on my doorstep.

Don't get me wrong, I have met some really nice people here, and we are beginning to become friends.  It just takes time.  And at times like this, I want you all back.  I want to curl up on your couch and have a cup of tea.  I want to sit around a sticky table littered with Crayola masterpieces and chat.  I want to have you you over for a big cookout and offer this toast:

To those of you who refuse to gossip and tear others down, thank you for teaching me what it means to be a woman of character.  To those cheerleaders who listen and smile and don't participate in one-upsmanship, thank you for showing me how to be happy for others.  To those could care less about the size of my home, the brand of clothes my kids wear, and the number of cars in my driveway, thank you for teaching me that a person's worth is never tied to her bank account.  To those who scrimp and save and work the long hours to put a decent meal on the table for your family, thank you for demonstrating there is no shame in getting your hands dirty.  To those of you who take the time to make eye contact with those who serve you and call them by name, thank you for reminding me that everyone matters.  To those who humbly serve others week in and week out, thank you for reminding me there is a hurting world just outside the doors of our cozy homes.  To those who introduced me to Jesus, thank you for taking the risk and saving my life.

Friends, I miss your honesty, compassion, love, humility, grace, and generosity.  I am so thankful God allowed you to touch my life.  I hope one day I can introduce you to the new friends He provides in Singapore!

So much!

So much to blog, so little time.  I should be napping right now...

Both Jack and Caleb are asleep, and I am bone tired.  However I know that if I lie in bed, my mind will be swirling with half-written blog posts.  No, I haven't give up on my "Around the world in 80 days."  I simply have no time to write it.  We discover new things every day, and I usually snap a few photos, but that's the most I am able to do at the moment.

Aaron has been traveling this week, and even when he's home, he's not.  He gets pulled into late meetings or has late night phone calls with folks in the States (who are just starting their days).  Maddie started rehearsals for the Nutcracker.  I joined MOPS and a women's bible study.  We have had play dates with new friends.  The endless coin laundry in the basement continues....

But it's ok.  I'm ok.  At least, I'm getting there.  When the kids smash their fingers and toes in the huge, heavy wooden doors here (an every day occurrence - I promise I'm not exaggerating), I don't automatically tear up and wail, "I hate this place!"  When I send the wrong item to school (Is today the swimming pack, the library pack, the word folder, or the reading pouch?), I don't cry.  I have released my death grip on the steering wheel.  I can navigate that awful, ginormous underground mall.

Those changes have been great.  But the real saving grace always comes from the same source.  It's always God.  How wonderful it felt to be in His house, singing praises with tears on my cheeks.  To be reminded of my blessings.  To receive the love and support poured out by fellow believers.

It's so refreshing!  Though I am physically exhausted, my spirit has been renewed.  And I know things will only get better from here.  Pretty soon our helper will join us.  Then we will be moving into our own home.  Then we will be getting our things.  Then Grammy comes for a long visit (Yay!).    I feel like I'm finally getting my feet on the ground.  I'm looking forward to what God has planned next.

Will keep you posted when I can!  P.S. We miss you all!

Help!

Many moons ago my friend, Mandie, and I memorized the song "Help" and performed it for her mom (a huge Beatles fan) along with an undoubtedly well-choreographed dance routine.  These day, I hear those lyrics in my head nearly all the time...

"Help!  I need somebody.  Help!  Not just anybody.  Help!  You know I need someone.  He-eh-eh-eh-elp!"

That is how I feel all.the.time.  I never imagined a move overseas would throw me for such a loop.  Especially since we had averaged a move every 2 years for the last 14 years in the States.  I was a pro at moving, right?  WRONG!

I am good at moving within the U.S., no doubt about it.  Give me a week or so and we would have our church, library cards, and frequent shopper cards at the local grocer.  We would have cruised around in the minivan and found a few parks, registered for voting and school, and found a pediatrician, doctor and dentist.  You name it, I could get it done.  

And then we moved here.  To Singapore.  And it feels like another planet.  Prior to the move, every Singapore expat I met raved about how wonderful and beautiful and easy it was to live there.  I think they must be suffering from some sort of tropical amnesia.  Maybe it's just me, but I don't happen to find it easy at all. 

Everything is a process.  Banking, communication, government agencies, internet access, mail, shopping, transportation, doctors, school, parking.  Each aspect of life is suddenly filled with unexpected difficulties and delays.  Even play dates can bring me to tears, as I am inevitably 45 minutes late because I get lost every stinking time.  Every day is a learning experience, and this momma is downright exhausted.  

I never intended to raise four children in a big city.  Before kids, it was a lot easier to be adventurous.  With kids, give me the ease of the [boring] burbs any ol' day.  Give me huge, free parking lots and quiet streets with big, empty sidewalks.  Give me ramps and elevators for my strollers, reasonably priced food and drink, and well-marked public restrooms in every major store.  Give me some one-stop shopping!    

Now I know why people in big cities don't have large families.  Now I know why every single time we go out on the street we are a spectacle to behold, with people constantly asking, "Four?!"  

Yes!  Four!  Four children, people!  They are all mine.  Yes, I know it looks crazy.  It is crazy.

So is coin laundry in teeny tiny washers and dryers in the basement of our building.  Do you know how many loads of laundry this family creates every week?

Going to the grocery?  Always an adventure.  Not only is the food ridiculously overpriced (I'm talking $8 for a box of cereal!), but getting the groceries home is a challenge.  I even bought a rolling cart because the bags were so heavy.

Tonight I rushed through the kids' bedtime songs with tears in my eyes.  Because I desperately wanted to stay longer and cuddle with my babes, but I knew I couldn't.  Because I still had three loads of laundry to finish and businesses to call (that were just about to open in the U.S.), and email to finally check. "I'm sorry," I choked, "Mommy doesn't have any extra to give tonight." 

So here I am.  Exhausted and humbled.  Realizing I really, truly can't do it all.  If I were in the States, it would be a different story.  Here, I need help.  

We have decided to hire a domestic helper.  Wow!  Never thought in a million years I would write those words.  This from the girl who adopted her mother's motto: "If your house it too big for you to clean yourself, your house is too big!"

Well, mom, I'm crying, "Uncle!"  I can't do it here.  I just can't.  I have to let go of my pride and accept some help for now.  

Our decision is not just about the chores or errands.  Aaron's real travel schedule has yet to begin.  With his new job he will be traveling about 25% of the time.  He's never been gone that much.  I can't even imagine what evenings would be like alone here without another person in the house.  I don't want to.  What if a child had to be rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night?

  Who would stay with the kids?  

We interviewed a few candidates and settled on a sweet woman with a lovely disposition.  The kids seem to like her.  It will be interesting to see how we all adjust to another person living in our home.  I won't share her details on here to protect her privacy, just as I hope she won't share information about our family online.  

I felt I had to write about it a little bit anyway.  Hiring a helper, someone who will move into our home and be a part of our daily lives, seemed to be a pretty significant detail I couldn't leave out of our blog.  It's also good for my humility!  Will keep you posted!