To An 8 Year Old Boy

Dear Parker,

This post comes a few days after your actual birthday.  It is Saturday night, and you are tucked in bed, surrounded by stray Lego pieces and Nerf bullets.  Today was a doozy.  Today we held your 8th birthday party in our home.  And it was LOUD!

There was a point today, during the party, when I took a step back and just smiled.  I smiled because you'd done it again.  You'd won the hearts and loyalty of a brand-new group of friends, halfway around the world from your home.  In the short eight months we have been in Singapore, you have managed to form your own little "gang" of buddies.  You ride bikes in the street with them, play war games and Slugterra, swim, have Nerf battles, and build Legos together on a daily basis.  You are a natural born leader, and today, I watched in admiration as you directed the troops.

You still get tearful when you talk about your friends in Kentucky and Texas, and while that breaks my heart, it also brings me joy to know you form meaningful, lasting relationships.  This is a skill that will serve you well, son.

You have continued your work as an entrepreneur.  In Kentucky it was a hot apple cider stand, in Texas, a lemonade stand.  Here in Singapore, you are "selling" your very own homemade bug spray (which you advertise as "100% safe for humans").  While you haven't actually sold any yet, you have given away many samples and distributed numerous flyers to potential [5-8 year old] customers (with permission slips attached, of course). 

You love math and Chinese classes.  You play soccer and Match Attack trading cards.  You are starting to beat me at Battleship and checkers.  You love chess and swimming.  You just got a bike with gears and ride everywhere.   

You are an amazing big brother.  The way you include Jack in the neighborhood games just melts my heart.  I watched one day as he raced to put on his shoes so he could join you and your friends outside after school.  I held my breath as he trotted down the street, plastic sword in hand.  Would you let him play with the big boys?  Then I heard you shout: "Hey guys, my little brother is on our team, so he qualifies. C'mon Jack, stay with us."  I turned away with happy tears in my eyes.  You amaze me, sweet boy.

As much as you and Maddie fight, you are closer than ever since we moved here.  You are best friends and worst enemies all at once.  You are a shared soda and a pillow fight.  You are her annoying big brother and her hero.

Caleb is in love with you, too.  He allows you to carry him around and gives you kisses on demand.  You pat his head and call him "Cutie" and he follows you like a puppy dog.

I am so very proud of you.  I have read the articles.  The ones that tell me that I should say, "Wow!  I'm really proud of how hard you worked at that!"  The ones that warn parents to shy away from simply saying "I'm proud of you.  You're amazing!  You're special!"  Because you just might believe you are unique and important.  You might become spoiled and develop a sense of entitlement.

I read those articles.  I try to change the wording of my praise.  However, I don't know if the adaptations will prove useful, because I think you know that I just adore you.  I love you because you are you.  You are special and unique.  You are one of a kind.  You are amazing.  (And I hope you don't read this for many years to come so it doesn't mess up your development too badly.)

I love you, my sweet eight year old boy.  Thank you for teaching me how to be a mommy.

A good place

I am in a good place.  I don't just mean geographically.  I mean emotionally.  I am finally, finally feeling a bit like my old self again.  It's taken over half a year.  I can rebound from birthing a child faster than I can making an international move.  Wow!  Humbling.

But if I'm really honest, it's not humbling for long.  Pretty soon, that insidious little voice in my head begins to whisper, "Look at you!  Look at what you've done!  You really pulled yourself up by your bootstraps.  You can handle anything!"

In my heart I know that I should take take zero credit for the improvements in my attitude and mental health.  What occurred in my heart is nothing short of a miracle.  But it is precisely at the times when things are going so well that I am most vulnerable.

When things are going well I stop reading my Bible and stop talking with God.  I talk at Him, but my listening skills go out the window.

I am trying to break that cycle.  So last night I pulled out my Bible and prayed that God would speak right to me through His Word.

Two things stood out (from the book of Joshua):

1.  This verse:  "He did this so that all the peoples of the earth might know that the hand of the Lord is powerful and so that you might always fear the Lord your God.”

Sometimes when I am going through a tough time, I wonder why God does things the way He does.  Isn't there an easier way?  Does it really have to be this hard?  Then I remember that if I put my faith in Him, He always carries me through.  Always.  And my hope is that others will see that and acknowledge just how powerful He is.   

2.  The manna stopped.  

Remember how God gave the Israelites manna every day for forty years in the desert?  What an awesome reminder of His presence!  I felt so jealous of those people reading about that. There is no way they could deny the presence of an all-caring God when he was literally serving them breakfast every morning.  

But then it stopped.  Once he gave them the big gift - the promised land - the manna stopped.  I bet after eating it every day for forty years, the people weren't complaining…at first. At first, they were probably drinking in all the milk and honey their bellies could handle.  But I wonder if the parents of the next generation ever wished their children could have been fed directly from the hand of God.  What's that phrase?  Seeing is believing.

God was physically closest and most easily identified by the people during some of their hardest times.  They were wandering around a desert.  And He was there, feeding them, leading them by a pillar of cloud by day, and providing light at night with a pillar of fire.  

When we survive our own "desert" experience, after awhile we may wonder, Where did God go?  The answer, of course, is nowhere.  He never left.  His presence may need to be experienced in a different way, but He's always there.  And when we need Him most, our loving, almighty God will swoop in and show Himself in an unmistakable way.


For it is the Lord your God who goes with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. 
Dt 31:6

He Does This

He does this.  I know He does this.  He shakes up my life.  Turns it upside down.  I clutch and claw at roots, convinced that if I let go I will free fall into that black space.

So there I am, dangling, hanging, staring into the darkness, arms shaking from the strain.  I flirt with depression.  I question my faith.

When I can no longer hold on, hold it together, I fall.  And then He does what He always does…He catches me.  It's a soft landing.  A coming home.  But it's not a dead stop.  I am lifted and carried along to a better place.  To the place He intended for me all along.

I know I've written it before, but this move to Singapore has been hard.  On so many levels.  As much as I thought I wanted to move internationally, it has been a fight.  I was going to write "struggle," but that seems too flimsy a description for my experience.

I fight to stay positive.  I fight tears every time I brush my hair and watch gobs fall to the floor (too much chlorine in the water some say…we'll see what the doctor says next week).  I fight ridiculous traffic and frustrating language barriers (yes, most people speak English, but I'm telling you, some things are still lost in translation).  I fight feelings of hopelessness about an active future when the bulging disc in my back throbs (guess it wasn't a good idea to try to lift that giant box of books in the garage just before the move).  I fight to stay awake during the never-ending bedtime routine (bath, pi's, teeth, potty, books, bible, prayers, songs) to ensure the kids have consistency and quality time, especially since Daddy is traveling so much.  I fight to build relationships with others who seem so different from myself.

Tonight I went to dinner with two relatively new friends.  One is leaving Singapore in a few days to go home (to the U.S.).  I was jealous.  I knew she was excited, but as we were hugging goodbye, her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Enjoy Singapore while you can.  I feel like I missed out on a lot."

She had regrets.  She had spent most of her time here being miserable.  I saw my future in her sad smile.

I believe God speaks to us in many ways, often through others.  My friend was my wake-up call.  It wasn't like a slap in the face.  It was a kind, gentle reminder.

I.put.you.here.  I have plans for you.  Good plans.  Better than the ones you could have come up with on your own.  So stop fighting.  Let go of your insistence on American ways.  It's going to be different.  Trust me.  Rest in me.  You have a purpose here, but don't worry about that either.  I'll let you know the plan one baby step at a time.

And just like that, it was back…peace.  It is a joy I have known before.  After being baptized, after moves, after babies.  It is the calm after the storm.  I know now that the storms are all part of the plan.

I know, too, this peace can be fleeting.  God grants the peace, but it only lasts as long as I'm willing to stay connected to Him.  Like the Israelites wandering in the desert, I fluctuate between complacency (worshipping my own golden calves) and desperation (crying out for relief in a dry land).  Thankfully, He never lets me suffer long.  If I don't wake up on my own, He shakes things up enough to get my attention and turn my heart back to Him.

So that (all thanks be to God) is where I am.  A heart filled with gratitude, a soul at peace.  I'm finally ready to embrace Singapore and share the joy of the Lord along the way.

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.   Philippians 4:4-7

Good morning, Vietnam!

There are a number of perks of living in Asia.  The kids are in a school that doesn't have a strict attendance policy.  We can easily extend their vacations by a day or two simply by sending the teachers an email.  They encourage travel, as they view it as a learning experience.  Can I get a hallelujah?  I wish American schools in the States felt the same way.

There are also a boatload of national holidays here.  Thanks to the great diversity in religions and cultures (and the government seeking to honor them all), there are ten national holidays per year.  Woo-hoo!  The most recent holiday was the Chinese or Lunar New Year.  Because we are so close to China (and many Singaporeans have Chinese ancestry), it's a really big deal here.  So, the kids' school shuts down for 3 days.

Another perk is that travel to different countries is relatively easy, since there are tons of Asian countries/islands clustered in close proximity.  Close proximity = short flights = happy [or at least sane] momma.

Our latest adventure was to a place I thought I would never see (or even want to see)…Vietnam.  My dad served in the Vietnam War.  Whenever he talked about "Nam" (which was extremely rare and brief), I always had an overwhelming feeling of sadness.  I realize the war is still a very politically and emotionally charged topic, and I do not want that to be the focus of this post.  I want to focus on the beauty of the country and the healing that has taken place in the years following the war…and of course, the madness of traveling with our circus of six.

I really had no idea what to expect when we arrived.  I suppose I imagined dense jungles like the footage of the war I'd seen on the History Chanel.  Wrong!  We stayed in Hanoi.  It's a city alright.  Complete with a lovely, modern airport.  However, once you exit the airport, buckle up!  Or don't.  Most people don't because they are on scooters.  So many scooters.  So many people.  So many people on one scooter!  It was common to see four people on one scooter.  I kid you not.  Once I spotted five…a toddler on the front, dad driving, mom holding a newborn, and a kid on the back.  Whoa, Nelly!

Hanoi, the capitol city located in the heart of northern Vietnam, is where we stayed for the first part of our trip.  It felt so crazy to have the freedom to walk down the streets of what was once enemy territory.  We stayed in a section called the Old Quarter.  It was gritty and loud.  No apparent traffic laws, no crosswalks, small fires burning on the street corners or on the rows of endless balconies nestled above tiny, brightly lit shops  whose merchandise spilled into the street.  Roosters strutting in alleyways, very few dogs. (I heard there was a whole section of a market where one could purchase a whole, roasted dog…We didn't go there.)  It was everything Singapore was not, and I found it strangely refreshing.  It was as if someone had peeled back the veneer, and I could peer into another world.

I had so many mixed emotions on this trip.  Emotions I never anticipated.  It was just another vacation, right?  It suddenly felt like much more as I stood in front of the Hanoi Hilton (the infamous Hoa Lo Prison) where so many American POWs were tortured.  Almost without exception, every passerby smiled at the kids.  Shouldn't we hate each other, I wondered.  At the same time, I was so grateful that we didn't.  I could look at the people and see people, not enemies.  Moms, dads, grandparents, children.  Just people.

As we walked toward Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum, we found ourselves skirting a massive wall topped with barbed wire.  There were gates at irregular intervals, manned by guards carrying AK-47s.  At the main gate we read the sign: Defence Ministry [I know the spelling looks incorrect, but I promise, it's right].  Again, I had that strange feeling that I didn't belong there.  Then a young guard approached our ever-grinning, waving baby boy and gave him a Hong Bao.

A Hong Bao is a gift.  It is a red envelope with money or treats inside given during the Chinese/Lunar New Year.  A Vietnamese soldier gave my boy a gift.  The irony and beauty brought tears to my eyes.  See, the Vietnamese celebrate the Lunar New Year, too.  They call it Tet.  As in the Tet Offensive launched in 1968 during which the Viet Cong hid massive loads of arms in carts carrying decorations and flowers for the festivities into South Vietnam and lead an attack that changed the course of the entire war.  Crazy.

Anyway, I just wanted to write a bit about the trip while my emotions were still fresh.  There will be more to come with pictures and descriptions, and our par-for-the-course misadventures.

Bali - Part III: The Elephant Safari Park and Monkey Forest

We took several day trips.  Thankfully, the hotel had a car big enough to transport our family together.  One day we visited the Elephant Safari Park.  It is a sanctuary for rescued Sumatran elephants whose homes are being destroyed by slash-and-burn farming.  We were able to ride the elephants, feed them, watch demonstrations (the kids especially enjoyed the elephants playing soccer and painting),  and eat a delicious lunch.

Then there was there was the Monkey Forest.  Cuh-razy.  According to Wikipedia, as of 2011, there were over 600 monkeys inhabiting this forest.  Yeah, kind of wish I knew that before we went.  Actually, our first visit there was quite nice.  It was the late afternoon.  The hotel dropped us off in the middle of downtown Ubud, and we walked and walked and walked to get to this forest.  The concierge at the hotel warned us not to feed the monkeys, as they can scratch, but when we got there and saw just how cute they were, and how there was a banana stand just outside the entrance, and other people were feeding them, well, we just couldn't resist.  And it was fun!  How many times in your life will you be surrounded by wild monkeys and be able to feed them?  Too bad Jack was asleep in the stroller the entire time.  He missed it all!  We decided we just had to go back.  

1st visit: Happy kids

Sleeping Jack

Sweet, docile monkey

We decided to return on a different day, early in the morning when Jack would be wide awake.  Early in the morning…Do you know what monkeys are early in the morning?  Hungry!  Hungry, aggressive little monsters.  We were swarmed.  It was bad.  The minute the bananas were in my hands, monkeys began to jump on my shoulders.  Poor Caleb was in the carrier on my back and had monkey butt in his face.  My shorts were all muddy from their paws.  It was nuts.  The kids just threw the bananas at charging monkeys.  Jack was screaming.  Ah, the stuff memories are made of, right?  Oh, but it gets better.  Aaron thinks we should leave, but I whine that we just arrived, and there were cute baby monkeys to see, and ancient temples to explore, and besides I'm sure it's safe now that we don't have anything they want.  Yeah.  Well, I guess we did have something they wanted.  Turns out untrained monkeys can actually work a zipper.  As in the zipper on the backpack that is hanging off the stroller.  One really big guy unzips the pack, steals Caleb's bottle, and pops it in his mouth.

"Hey!" I shouted angrily, instinctively taking a step toward him.  Um, did I really plan to arm wrestle this giant monkey for a baby bottle?  With a baby strapped on my back?  Did I mention monkeys have claws and fangs and diseases.

Each time I retell the story this monkey gets bigger.  Let's just call him an ape, shall we?  So this big ape gets up on two legs, shows me his fangs, and lunges at me.  He swipes as I run away (backward - so I can keep an eye on him).  The whole thing lasted only a few seconds, but even writing about it now makes my heart race.  Needless to say, we decided we had seen enough monkeys for one day (or lifetime) and practically jogged out of that park.  There is a reason people don't feed wild animals, kids.  Lesson learned.

2nd visit:

My first visitor

Baby monkeys I just had to see

Monkey temple

More monkeys (I know, I know.  Enough already.)

Okay, just one more...

Bali Part II - The hotel

We arrive at our hotel nearly an hour after we'd left the airport.  I spot Aaron getting out a cab just in front of us.  Hallelujah!  Aaron made our reservations, and whoa - did he do a good job!  The place is called The Mansion, and that's just what it felt like.  It was like something out of a movie…I was certain our kids would destroy it in no time.  But of course, my amazing Type-A hubby had done his research to find the most family-friendly place on the planet.  Lots of kids, super-friendly staff, and limited breakable items in our rooms (plural because due to our family size, we had to book two).  

The kids were in hog heaven.  They actually requested to bathe because the bathtubs were so glamorous and huge.  One room was on the top floor of the main house, past a chess table (where Parker challenged us to innumerable games) and a up a curved staircase.  The other was just down a stone paved path, right next to 3 pools and a lily pond where frogs sang to us in the morning. 

(I didn't take nearly enough photos.  The pictures I took of the hotel were mainly taken during the night when the kids were asleep, and I could explore on my own.)

These were taken in front of the hotel.

As you get closer to the entrance...

And closer...

 All the statues lining the walk made me feel like I was in a museum (okay, an Indian Jones movie if I'm really being honest here…just waiting to trip a booby trap and watch a poison dart shoot out of this guy's mouth).

The entrance hall

Up we go...

Looking back down, you can see they still have a Christmas tree up.  They were playing White Christmas on the speakers…I recognized the tune but not the language.

Portrait of a traditional Balinese dancer.

Our room upstairs.

Luckily Aaron took some pictures of our other room, which was really its own little cabana.

The lily pond [death trap] just outside the door that lead to some pools.

The inside of the cabana...

The magical tub (in that the kids actually wanted to bathe for once).

This picture of the master bed do not do this place justice!  It was gorgeous.  There were sheer, colorful curtains and canopies everywhere.  Maddie was in hog heaven!

Now on to the pools.  There were about ten, all very different, down paths overhung with vines and bananas, through stone archways, along mossy stone sidewalks.  I didn't get a single picture of them!   Maybe it was because I was too busy having a ball with the kids.  We swam and napped, watched cartoons and played chess, snacked, took long baths in the giant tubs, ate, and swam some more.  

Lucky for me, Aaron did take some shots….

Next stop…Monkey Forest and The Elephant Safari Park!