We have been living in one hotel or another for the better part of two weeks. When we arrived at the trendy Aloft hotel in Dallas, I wasn't quite sure how it was going to go. It felt weird to drag my small kids past the bar area filled with sharply dressed business people, to enter the aromatherapy-infused, club music-filled elevator, and to see the strange, modern lighting in the halls. In short, I felt out of place.
Even the room felt foreign. The two beds were low, there was no bath tub, just a shower with no ledge or lip, and there was a second peephole in the door at eye level with the kids. At first I wondered if they put all families with small kids in rooms like these. Finally it dawned on me that we were in a room intended for individuals with physical disabilities. Does having 4 kids ages 7 and under make us physically disabled? Perhaps...
I certainly felt incapacitated each time we paraded through the lobby. Whether I was hissing at one child to hop off the rock sculpture, pulling another's hands out of the decorative fountain, or chasing the baby who had escaped through the motion sensor doors into the parking lot...again, it was pretty clear we were out of our element.
Don't get me wrong. The kids have been a huge help. From the start they have done everything in their power to make this place feel like home. Jack peed on wall the very first time he climbed on the potty. "Sowwy, Mama. I jus forgot to aim down." Meanwhile, Caleb crushed crackers into the carpet and smeared watermelon on the sheets. Parker left Lego masterpieces on the edge of the table and howled in surprised anguish when they were promptly destroyed by younger siblings. Maddie left a colorful trail of shoes, clothing, and accessories wherever she went.
Each night we wheeled Caleb's crib into the shower stall, just far enough away from the wall so he couldn't reach the built-in shower gel dispenser. Each night someone had to use the restroom. In the lobby. 3 floors down.
Hear me, friends. I.am.not.complaining. I promise. I am attempting to be humorous as I share this slice of our crazy life. But I recognize this is a crazy, beautiful life.
We tuck our kids into soft beds every night. Yes, Caleb's crib gets wheeled into the shower, but Caleb is in a crib! He has a cozy, quiet place to sleep! So we have to go to the lobby if we have to use the bathroom, we HAVE a bathroom to use. Modern plumbing is readily available. We have food to eat at every single meal. We have the freedom to openly thank God before each meal. Without fear.
Meanwhile, there are refugees fleeing ISIS. Refugees with children just like ours and nothing like ours. Who don't have beds or bathrooms or food or freedom. Running for their very lives.
Tonight my thought and prayers are with them. Tonight I am so thankful for this cramped, cozy hotel room. May we be ever-grateful for the blessings in our lives.
9/6/14
8/26/14
A Love Note
Dear Little Loves,
You will be up in a few short hours, full of energy and light and spirit. And I will be bone tired. You will be bouncing from one hotel bed to the next, arguing over who gets to push the elevator, and tearing down the hallways. I will be pulling up the rear. You will be vying for my attention at every turn. I will be stifling a yawn.
We are in the midst of our first international move, and life is challenging right now. You are subject to new rules and no predictable schedule. We must be quiet in the hotel halls. We have to wait for repair and delivery people (sometimes in a sweltering house). We have to go to doctors and dentists. Mommy has to send emails and fill out forms. Your friends are in school all day.
It's not fair. I know. I get it. I wish it were different, my lovey doves. I really do. Much is beyond my control at the moment. I can't even control the time I wake in the morning (1AM today).
But I will tell you what I can control, with God's help. I can control my attitude. I can control my voice, my expressions, my words. I will control them today. If I have to sink to my knees a thousand times, I will do it. It is both my prayer and my pledge to you, sweet children. Because you deserve my best.
I didn't give that to you yesterday. I gave in to my temptation to complain and become bitter and angry and anxious. I was rude and mean and set a horrible example. My heart cringed when I heard the way you spoke to one another, mirroring the way I'd lashed out at you. I'm sorry, my babies.
I'm sorry, but I'm not despairing. Today is a new day. I am forgiven and free to start over. And that's just what I'll do.
You will be up in a few short hours, full of energy and light and spirit. And I will be bone tired. You will be bouncing from one hotel bed to the next, arguing over who gets to push the elevator, and tearing down the hallways. I will be pulling up the rear. You will be vying for my attention at every turn. I will be stifling a yawn.
We are in the midst of our first international move, and life is challenging right now. You are subject to new rules and no predictable schedule. We must be quiet in the hotel halls. We have to wait for repair and delivery people (sometimes in a sweltering house). We have to go to doctors and dentists. Mommy has to send emails and fill out forms. Your friends are in school all day.
It's not fair. I know. I get it. I wish it were different, my lovey doves. I really do. Much is beyond my control at the moment. I can't even control the time I wake in the morning (1AM today).
But I will tell you what I can control, with God's help. I can control my attitude. I can control my voice, my expressions, my words. I will control them today. If I have to sink to my knees a thousand times, I will do it. It is both my prayer and my pledge to you, sweet children. Because you deserve my best.
I didn't give that to you yesterday. I gave in to my temptation to complain and become bitter and angry and anxious. I was rude and mean and set a horrible example. My heart cringed when I heard the way you spoke to one another, mirroring the way I'd lashed out at you. I'm sorry, my babies.
I'm sorry, but I'm not despairing. Today is a new day. I am forgiven and free to start over. And that's just what I'll do.
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! 2 Cor 5:17
"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past." Isaiah 43:18
8/11/14
Miss you
Dear kids,
Momma misses you so much!
Singapore is really neat! You are going to love all the sights and sounds and smells. I can't wait for you to see it! I can't wait to explore with you!
This trip has been really good for mommy. Everyone says, "Enjoy it!" What they really mean is, "Enjoy your time away from your kids!" Guess what I learned? I can't!
I can't enjoy being away from you. At least not for this long! I've only been gone a few days, and I already want to come home and squeeze you! Sure, I've enjoyed reading, and eating food I didn't have to cook, and using the restroom with the door shut, but kiddos, this life is no real fun without you!
I want Jack to climb up in this big ole bed in the middle of the night and kick me to the edge. I want to feel Caleb in my empty, aching arms. I want to show Maddie all the beautiful, interesting flowers. I want Parker to talk until my ears are tired about Legos, or video games, or the new friends he made in the airport. Just fill up these big quiet rooms and my empty arms!
I am grateful beyond words for your amazing grandparents who agreed to have their own lives and households disrupted for two weeks and care for you. I know they are showering you with attention and love. This is a good experience for our family. It gives us space and time to miss each other.
This has been good for mommy and daddy, too. It gives us time to talk and do gross stuff, like kiss and hold hands. And that stuff's important. Because one day, you'll be gone for good. Out of our house. And that's okay. God will give me time to get used to that idea and adjust.
You guys are just so little right now. And it goes so fast. I can't wait to see you, sweeties. Be good for your grandparents.
Love,
Mom
Momma misses you so much!
Singapore is really neat! You are going to love all the sights and sounds and smells. I can't wait for you to see it! I can't wait to explore with you!
This trip has been really good for mommy. Everyone says, "Enjoy it!" What they really mean is, "Enjoy your time away from your kids!" Guess what I learned? I can't!
I can't enjoy being away from you. At least not for this long! I've only been gone a few days, and I already want to come home and squeeze you! Sure, I've enjoyed reading, and eating food I didn't have to cook, and using the restroom with the door shut, but kiddos, this life is no real fun without you!
I want Jack to climb up in this big ole bed in the middle of the night and kick me to the edge. I want to feel Caleb in my empty, aching arms. I want to show Maddie all the beautiful, interesting flowers. I want Parker to talk until my ears are tired about Legos, or video games, or the new friends he made in the airport. Just fill up these big quiet rooms and my empty arms!
I am grateful beyond words for your amazing grandparents who agreed to have their own lives and households disrupted for two weeks and care for you. I know they are showering you with attention and love. This is a good experience for our family. It gives us space and time to miss each other.
This has been good for mommy and daddy, too. It gives us time to talk and do gross stuff, like kiss and hold hands. And that stuff's important. Because one day, you'll be gone for good. Out of our house. And that's okay. God will give me time to get used to that idea and adjust.
You guys are just so little right now. And it goes so fast. I can't wait to see you, sweeties. Be good for your grandparents.
Love,
Mom
8/2/14
Birthday Monkey
Dear Jacky-Jack,
My little monkey. You just turned three, but you are as tall as a four year old. You are all smiles and sobs. You are tickle fights and temper tantrums. You are my little love.
Jack, you have pined for your birthday celebration all month long. Unfortunately for you, we celebrated exactly seven birthdays in our home this month before yours finally came along. Grandpa, Drake, Kane, Eli, Lana, Julie, and Caleb all got to blow out candles around our kitchen table, as you watched, sobbing, "But it's my birfday!"
And then it was. Only it wasn't. It wasn't at all what I had envisioned. No streamers or balloons. No party plates and napkins. We didn't even wrap your gifts. Daddy took you all to pick up the Spiderman ice-cream cake we'd ordered because I was sick in bed with fever and chills. The moment he got home, all of you kids were so anxious to dig in, I barely made it out of the bedroom in time to sing you "Happy Birthday."
Lucky for you, Ms. Lana saved the day. A few days after your actual birthday (when mommy was feeling better), we secretly decorated the kitchen and baked cupcakes as you and the others played in your room. When you emerged, you had an actual birthday party, complete with streamers, balloons, party favors, games, wrapped gifts, and guests. Your eyes were as big as saucers. You had a ball!
Oh my little Jack, there is so much I want to remember about you as you are right at this very moment in time. Your thumb tucked in your mouth, the way you call Caleb "Caywub," your giant toothy grin, the way you say, "your" instead of "you," hearing your little voice sing "Everything is Awesome" from the Lego movie and Neon Trees' "Animal," the fact that you think Lightening McQueen's name is Kachow, the way you carefully secure the straps on your shoes (on the wrong feet), the heaviness of your head on my shoulder, the roundness of your knees and fingertips, your long eyelashes, the way you always answer an "I love you" with an "I wuv you, too." Though you sometimes still refuse to get dressed, though you forget to flush the toilet (leaving a very tempting mess for baby brother), though you destroy your brother's Lego creations, and use your sister's markers to embellish the tile floors - I will always love you.
Your actions are almost never out of spite. You are my Curious George. I love you to pieces, sweet boy. Happy belated birthday.
My little monkey. You just turned three, but you are as tall as a four year old. You are all smiles and sobs. You are tickle fights and temper tantrums. You are my little love.
Jack, you have pined for your birthday celebration all month long. Unfortunately for you, we celebrated exactly seven birthdays in our home this month before yours finally came along. Grandpa, Drake, Kane, Eli, Lana, Julie, and Caleb all got to blow out candles around our kitchen table, as you watched, sobbing, "But it's my birfday!"
And then it was. Only it wasn't. It wasn't at all what I had envisioned. No streamers or balloons. No party plates and napkins. We didn't even wrap your gifts. Daddy took you all to pick up the Spiderman ice-cream cake we'd ordered because I was sick in bed with fever and chills. The moment he got home, all of you kids were so anxious to dig in, I barely made it out of the bedroom in time to sing you "Happy Birthday."
Lucky for you, Ms. Lana saved the day. A few days after your actual birthday (when mommy was feeling better), we secretly decorated the kitchen and baked cupcakes as you and the others played in your room. When you emerged, you had an actual birthday party, complete with streamers, balloons, party favors, games, wrapped gifts, and guests. Your eyes were as big as saucers. You had a ball!
Oh my little Jack, there is so much I want to remember about you as you are right at this very moment in time. Your thumb tucked in your mouth, the way you call Caleb "Caywub," your giant toothy grin, the way you say, "your" instead of "you," hearing your little voice sing "Everything is Awesome" from the Lego movie and Neon Trees' "Animal," the fact that you think Lightening McQueen's name is Kachow, the way you carefully secure the straps on your shoes (on the wrong feet), the heaviness of your head on my shoulder, the roundness of your knees and fingertips, your long eyelashes, the way you always answer an "I love you" with an "I wuv you, too." Though you sometimes still refuse to get dressed, though you forget to flush the toilet (leaving a very tempting mess for baby brother), though you destroy your brother's Lego creations, and use your sister's markers to embellish the tile floors - I will always love you.
Your actions are almost never out of spite. You are my Curious George. I love you to pieces, sweet boy. Happy belated birthday.
7/26/14
The Fear
The fear is creeping in. It always does when we are on the brink of a new move. All of the unknowns come crashing down, and suddenly I feel totally inadequate. There are many times I have doubted my parenting abilities; moving just tends to magnify those insecurities. I've hopped aboard the roller coaster. One day I am elated at the prospect of a new adventure, the next I am sitting in a chair, hugging my knees, tears streaming.
This evening I spent a great deal of time researching all sorts of things about Singapore online. Sighing, I pushed back from the desk and tiptoed into Maddie's room to sing her favorite song to her as she slept. It's a beautiful song by Joe McDermott called "Great Big World." And tonight it broke my heart. I had to stop because I was afraid my crying would wake her.
In the song, a father sings to his infant, "Someday I'm gonna hold your little hand [and] walk around this great big world." That part I've got. Walk around the world together? Check. But then he goes on to sing about all the things he can't wait to share with his baby and teach his baby…walking out into the backyard, climbing trees, exploring the garden, lightening bugs. It all sounds so safe and wonderful and familiar.
Suddenly, my confidence is gone. Zilch. I got nothin'. I'm not even sure we will have a backyard, much less plant a garden there. Can a garden withstand monsoon season? Sure I can Google it, but as far as personal experience, forget it. How will I guide the kids around "this great big world" when I don't even know what to expect? It's like the blind leading the blind.
And what about American traditions? Will they remember what it's like to watch fireworks on the 4th of July? I think about their lemonade stands and camping in the woods. Is that all a part of our past? Does Santa come to the mall in Singapore? Is climbing trees against the law (like chewing gum - no joke!)?
There is so much I don't know about our new home. As Aaron read aloud information about local customs and laws this evening, I grew more and more nervous.
Don't point at someone with your foot or show the bottoms of your feet to others; it's considered very disrespectful.
Don't use your left hand to hold your utensils, as left hands are considered reserved for bathroom functions (ew!).
Don't pat children or others on the head, as the head is seen as sacred.
Don't spit on the ground or you could be fined.
Pornography [including public nudity] is illegal and could result in fines or imprisonment.
Don't forget to flush a public toilet, or you could be caned?!
I am pretty sure that my left-handed husband, my ever-wrestling, head-patting, kicking kids, and my own foot fetish are going to land us in jail. Did I mention that Jack tends to forget to flush the potty, pees outside, and often refuses to wear pants? Oy vey!
Despite my laundry list of worries, I am comforted tonight by familiar verses:
Deuteronomy 31:8
The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.
Psalm 91:4
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
No matter where we go in this great big world, God is with us. He is the guide. He is the protector. And it is with that blessed assurance I will lay down my head and rest.
Proverbs 3:24
When you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.
This evening I spent a great deal of time researching all sorts of things about Singapore online. Sighing, I pushed back from the desk and tiptoed into Maddie's room to sing her favorite song to her as she slept. It's a beautiful song by Joe McDermott called "Great Big World." And tonight it broke my heart. I had to stop because I was afraid my crying would wake her.
In the song, a father sings to his infant, "Someday I'm gonna hold your little hand [and] walk around this great big world." That part I've got. Walk around the world together? Check. But then he goes on to sing about all the things he can't wait to share with his baby and teach his baby…walking out into the backyard, climbing trees, exploring the garden, lightening bugs. It all sounds so safe and wonderful and familiar.
Suddenly, my confidence is gone. Zilch. I got nothin'. I'm not even sure we will have a backyard, much less plant a garden there. Can a garden withstand monsoon season? Sure I can Google it, but as far as personal experience, forget it. How will I guide the kids around "this great big world" when I don't even know what to expect? It's like the blind leading the blind.
And what about American traditions? Will they remember what it's like to watch fireworks on the 4th of July? I think about their lemonade stands and camping in the woods. Is that all a part of our past? Does Santa come to the mall in Singapore? Is climbing trees against the law (like chewing gum - no joke!)?
There is so much I don't know about our new home. As Aaron read aloud information about local customs and laws this evening, I grew more and more nervous.
Don't point at someone with your foot or show the bottoms of your feet to others; it's considered very disrespectful.
Don't use your left hand to hold your utensils, as left hands are considered reserved for bathroom functions (ew!).
Don't pat children or others on the head, as the head is seen as sacred.
Don't spit on the ground or you could be fined.
Pornography [including public nudity] is illegal and could result in fines or imprisonment.
Don't forget to flush a public toilet, or you could be caned?!
I am pretty sure that my left-handed husband, my ever-wrestling, head-patting, kicking kids, and my own foot fetish are going to land us in jail. Did I mention that Jack tends to forget to flush the potty, pees outside, and often refuses to wear pants? Oy vey!
Despite my laundry list of worries, I am comforted tonight by familiar verses:
Deuteronomy 31:8
The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.
Psalm 91:4
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
No matter where we go in this great big world, God is with us. He is the guide. He is the protector. And it is with that blessed assurance I will lay down my head and rest.
Proverbs 3:24
When you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.
7/25/14
Bloom where you are planted
My mom taught us to do our own laundry at a very early age. I spent a good deal of time in the laundry room (especially during my teenage years). Hanging above the washing machine was a tiny framed drawing of a red flower growing out of a tin can with the caption: "Bloom where you are planted."
I always read that sentence and assumed it meant "stay." The grass isn't always greener. God has placed you here for a reason. Grow roots. Be content, etc.
So when my parents floated the idea of a move to New York when I was in high school, I balked. I sobbed. I pleaded with them to allow me to stay. How would I survive anywhere else? What about blooming where I had been planted? We stayed.
My hometown is an amazing historic community called Portland within the larger city of Louisville, KY. My grandmother lived most of her 99 years there within about a 4 block radius. She had everything she needed: church, family, grocery, friends. When the family pitched in and bought her a helicopter ride for her 95th birthday, she had the pilot circle Portland. When her friends later told her she'd missed the excitement of a helicopter hovering above the church, Grandma told them with a twinkle in her eye that she hadn't missed the excitement; she was the excitement!
I love my roots. I love that I walked to school every day until high school. Grandma was only a 5 minute walk away, 2 minutes if I rode my bike. High school was only a few miles away. When Aaron and I got married and he got a job in Cincinnati, OH, I was terrified. Cincinnati?! That was an hour and half away! Were they even in the same time zone?? I cried and cried.
But then God showed me the hidden meaning in the picture above the washing machine: The flower was planted in a tin can. Portable. With His help I could "bloom" wherever He planted me. He is the constant companion and Light. He knows I need people in my life. I crave friendship and community. And He provides friends wherever we go…Kentucky, Ohio, Virginia, Florida, Washington, Texas...
Singapore.
Yup. Literally halfway around the world. Now I'm as adventurous as the next girl, but the thought of this big move takes my breath away. Aaron and I will be traveling there in a few weeks to search for housing and schools. We haven't signed on the dotted line yet…but I imagine that's coming soon. And I can't wait to see what God has planned!
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9
I always read that sentence and assumed it meant "stay." The grass isn't always greener. God has placed you here for a reason. Grow roots. Be content, etc.
So when my parents floated the idea of a move to New York when I was in high school, I balked. I sobbed. I pleaded with them to allow me to stay. How would I survive anywhere else? What about blooming where I had been planted? We stayed.
My hometown is an amazing historic community called Portland within the larger city of Louisville, KY. My grandmother lived most of her 99 years there within about a 4 block radius. She had everything she needed: church, family, grocery, friends. When the family pitched in and bought her a helicopter ride for her 95th birthday, she had the pilot circle Portland. When her friends later told her she'd missed the excitement of a helicopter hovering above the church, Grandma told them with a twinkle in her eye that she hadn't missed the excitement; she was the excitement!
I love my roots. I love that I walked to school every day until high school. Grandma was only a 5 minute walk away, 2 minutes if I rode my bike. High school was only a few miles away. When Aaron and I got married and he got a job in Cincinnati, OH, I was terrified. Cincinnati?! That was an hour and half away! Were they even in the same time zone?? I cried and cried.
But then God showed me the hidden meaning in the picture above the washing machine: The flower was planted in a tin can. Portable. With His help I could "bloom" wherever He planted me. He is the constant companion and Light. He knows I need people in my life. I crave friendship and community. And He provides friends wherever we go…Kentucky, Ohio, Virginia, Florida, Washington, Texas...
Singapore.
Yup. Literally halfway around the world. Now I'm as adventurous as the next girl, but the thought of this big move takes my breath away. Aaron and I will be traveling there in a few weeks to search for housing and schools. We haven't signed on the dotted line yet…but I imagine that's coming soon. And I can't wait to see what God has planned!
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9
7/20/14
Poop poem
Poop smears,
Mama tears.
Quiet evening disappears.
Disinfect and wash the seat,
Follow path of tiny feet.
Wash and clean and scrub the rugs.
"Don't count on a goodnight hug!"
Spray the cleaner, wipe the floors.
Mama rants and cleans some more.
Children hide behind the door.
Three year olds sometimes forget
Babies like to play in wet.
Mama rants...and then regrets.
Time to ditch the cleaning gear.
Kiss the cheek and dry the tear.
Quiet whispers in the ear:
"I love you...and I'm sorry, dear!"
Philippians 2:14 Do everything without complaining or arguing.
Mama tears.
Quiet evening disappears.
Disinfect and wash the seat,
Follow path of tiny feet.
Wash and clean and scrub the rugs.
"Don't count on a goodnight hug!"
Spray the cleaner, wipe the floors.
Mama rants and cleans some more.
Children hide behind the door.
Three year olds sometimes forget
Babies like to play in wet.
Mama rants...and then regrets.
Time to ditch the cleaning gear.
Kiss the cheek and dry the tear.
Quiet whispers in the ear:
"I love you...and I'm sorry, dear!"
Philippians 2:14 Do everything without complaining or arguing.
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