Growing Family

The Time, How it Flies

The Captain has declared me to have the lowest possible threshold for internet deterrent. That is, since we moved to the new house and have been waiting for our internet to be set up, we've had to use a wifi card. I have been on Facebook twice, only read my mail on my phone, and not read a single blog. Evidently turning the wifi device on, waiting 38 seconds for it to power up, and connecting to it through my computer is just too. much. work.

Somehow, waiting for my little internet making device has reminded me of another time in my life when I spent a lot of time waiting to get on to the internet.

When I was 15 and living in St. Petersburg, I met another missionary kid in Odessa, Ukraine. We became friends, and a teenage romance bloomed and blossomed. As has been the pattern with each relationship I've had, writing played a key role.

We used to spend the evening writing tomes back and forth. I'd receive a massive email from this guy, and immediately write an equally wordy response. With each email sent I had to wait for the crunching and screeching of the modem, with its little blinking lights, and then get offline again. We'd email back and forth, up to four volumes a night, finally calling it quits about 2 a.m.

While we were never officially dating, we were missionary kid dating, which means you are having a relationship but not calling it dating. I completely thought I would marry this guy. When we both moved back to the States, and he want to Bible school in Florida, I went down to visit pretty often. He broke off our non-dating relationship and I was heartbroken. Not long after, he proposed to a girl at Bible school.

Long story short, they got married, moved to Africa to be real-life missionaries, had three kids, moved back to the U.S. and eventually divorced in the midst of some really heart-breaking circumstances. 

When I was growing up and imagining my future, I always thought I would be a missionary somewhere. I envisioned myself single, or maybe married, living in an orphanage, taking care of kids. I nearly had that life.

This is a very odd way to blog about my eleven year anniversary with The Captain, but as we celebrated our marriage this weekend, I spent some time thinking about the life I almost had. I know some people think about what could have been, had they ended up with another partner. Whenever I look back at that relationship, I let out a sigh of relief. It was such a near miss. I could very easily have married someone who wasn't right for me, and who ultimately had some very big issues that led to the disintigration of his marriage. 

I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't dumped me. Would I have married him? Would he have asked me?

In the space left after my non-dating break-up, my friendship with the Captain had more room to grow. Eventually that wonderful and nourishing friendship developed some romantic tones and it was the gift of a lifetime to get to marry my best friend.

Eleven years in, I am amazed at how very perfect we are for each other, and how I respect him more now than I did before. I am amazed at what we are accomplishing as a team, and so, so thankful that the things that are closest and most dear to our hearts are still reflected in each other. 

Instead of living in a third-world orphanage, I am now living in a beautiful modern house. Instead of sacrificing everything to care for a whole lot of children, I am living a life of daily sacrifice for four children. And instead of being married to a missionary, I am married to a genius-brainiac-software developer with a voracious appetite for learning, the strongest work ethic ever, full of vision and passion, and motivated by compassion to live his life to benefit others, starting with his own family. 

Show me all the fish in the sea, and I doubt you could find his equal.

Eleven years in, I am so, so blessed to have a man in my life who loves me well, and keeps me connected to the internet.

It's Been A Long Time Coming

For the first time in nine months we are alone in our house. For a glorious seven months we had a live-in babysitter. My sister came for a month over Christmas. Our sitter left and my parents came for four weeks. Amidst those guests we've also had a friend's little boy staying on and off for many weekends. Our house has been full.

Now, everyone has gone and for a couple weeks (two I think, at least) it is just us. Do you know how strange it is to have the kids asleep and it be just me and the Captain in the house? Strange.

My parents always told me "make sure you constantly build bridges between yourself and your partner. One day you wake up and the kids are gone and you need to be sure that you are still connected to the person you raised them with." I'm facing a little bit of that right now.

In the lack of privacy generated by constant company, we've settled into the pattern of partners more than lovers. I'm to blame for that, really. I'm not one for too much PDA, and I'm very private about our business, and don't want to make anyone uncomfortable (especially our single, Christian babysitter!). 

Live has been intensely busy lately and we've been a really great team. We've organized and executed multiple road trips, and oodles of outings for our overseas guests. We've packed hundreds of sandwiches and drink bottles and rain jackets and swimsuits and sunscreen and strollers and all of the endless gear that goes along on an afternoon outing.

We're a good team. We can manage three kids + guests + dog + extra kid for the weekend like pros. Somehow the shopping gets done, the laundry is processed, the bills are payed, and we make it all happen.

Now that the dust has settled and we've caught up on all the essentials that slipped in the last couple weeks I'm looking at my poor husband who is sick and has been for weeks, and wondering, how do I feel connected again? In between packing lunches and looking at houses, and organizing our boys' birthdays, when do I swoon and get goosebumps? When do I hear his heart?

Life is challenging.

We're in this space between everything that just happened and everything that's about to happen and I feel a little small and unsure in it all. 

Recently our very dear friends up and moved to Europe with very little warning. Now, just this week, another dear set of friends are doing the same. They'll land in Perth in a week and a half.

Being an expat in a place where people are transient is hard. If you live in a moving city, but you have your family, you're set because you can find security in your family. Or if you're far from family but in a stable community, that works out sometimes too, because you get support from your community.

It's hard to be far from family, and to have the people that you look to for comfort and understanding move away. And as much as I know that is part and parcel of the expat life, it is still hard. Even harder on the heels of my parents leaving.

In a season when life feels unsure and friends feel distant, you want your spouse to be that certain comfort. And if you are a person of faith, such a season is a ripe time to be quiet within and to feel the closeness and friendship of God in the stillness. 

The funny thing about quietness, stillness, pause, is that it is like a smooth swimming pool with someone mid-air about to land a cannonball. We're going to be having our friend's son with us again, as she goes through another surgery, and I heard from a friend today that the foster care agency is finally calling our references. We're hunting for a house and ready to buy. 

I hope in these couple weeks I can re-find my lover, and get quiet on the inside to feel God at the core of my being.

Between fog and distinction

Remember The Cloud? Well I think it just wiggled. It hasn't started moving yet, but something's afoot.

Remember The Captain's desires for this next season? Well something big happened on that front this week. It's not really blog-able, which is why I'm being vague and blogging around the issue.

The thing about transition is, even if you know you can't anticipate what will happen next, you try. I have a whole list of next-season scenarios that I'd be ready to embrace. I have a number of locations I'd be interested in moving to. But, just like we thought it would, this opportunity has come totally from left field.

I'm not a sports person, and I don't know which sport "left field" comes from, but in my mind's eye I just see myself standing, oblivious, on a sport field (soccer? football? baseball?) when WHAM, I get hit in the head with the ball. That's about how left field is feeling for me right now. The whole star-halo around the comic book character image comes to mind.

This opportunity could be great, but it is not what I had imagined. This opportunity could be amazing for The Captain, but present major roadblocks to what I want next for our family. 

I'm not really sure what happens next in terms of us working out whether or not this change might be right for us. At the moment I am so homesick that I'm having trouble being objective. I've really been missing Nashville for awhile, and really missing my family.

I'm just trying to get quiet inside so I can hear whatever I need to hear next. I'll keep you posted, as best I can.

Facebook and Diamonds

After years of successful boycotting, I joined Facebook. Blogs, both the reading and writing of them, have suddenly faded to the background.

Suddenly I am catching up with people from junior high. People from stages of life several removed, with no tracks connecting them to my present life.

Driving on the street I see people from the past. Old friends and crushes from 15 years ago, just as they were then. I've been dreaming about those old days.

I am fortunate to be sleeping soundly enough to dream as The Captain has finished his two weeks of night shift work. Having his steady presence in the bed next to me has brought back the deep peaceful sleep that I've only known since sharing his bed. I used to sleep all curled up, protective, vulnerable, wincing. Now I sleep on my back, arms flung overhead, safe and sound. It's amazing how the right person in your life can make everything...free.

I had some good days this week. And even today, with two rounds of violent illness, I recovered from each more quickly. I was back upright in a shorter amount of time. Upright is good.

So I'm missing friends far away. Friends who are lonely. Friends who need hugs. Friends who need a cup of tea and a good talk. It's hard to not have my friends here for me, but also hard to not be there for them.

I'm spending a lot of time dreaming about things I hope for. Lately I sound like those parents I never wanted to turn into: the ones who talk about how long it's been since they had a date, how they'd love a vacation without the kids, how their kids get up too early in the morning. But really, if you don't have any balance in your life, being a stay-at-home mom can become really claustrophobic. At least it is for me at the moment. If you never have time apart from your kids, absence can't make the heart grow fonder. With the last months of being sick, I haven't had hardly any time away from the kids, let alone out of the house.

So all the things I'm dreaming about are completely self-indulgent. For one thing, I'm dreaming about a huge diamond ring. Let me explain: when we got married I was 19 and pretty granola. I considered things like big diamonds to be frivolous and wasteful. Not to mention we didn't really have any money, and diamond engagement rings aren't part of Dutch marriage traditions. I've wanted a big ring for years. Not so granola now! I know exactly what I want, and every few months I go through seasons thinking about it.

I'm also thinking about buying myself a dog. I SO MISS my old dog, Phoebe, who died about two and a half years ago. I have spent a lot of time thinking about getting a family dog "for the kids" and have been researching breeds. Last week I had a huge cry-a-thon thinking about my old dog. I probably cried for an hour, unable to stop. I've hardly cried since she died (I did cry a lot then), and suddenly, I just missed her so much. I could see her and all the sweet mannerisms she had. I realized that I don't want a family dog. I want a dog that I will share with the family, but I want another dog that is mine. Another weimeraner, practical or not. So I'm dreaming about that.

Lastly, today I decided that I want to go on a weekend lover's holiday to Brisbane with The Captain. I want to stay in a nice hotel, eat breakfast in bed, and go to the theme park. Yes, I have decided that I want to go ride rides, even though I've never been "into that". We'll have to wait until post baby to go, probably significantly post-baby!

I think the fact that I'm dreaming of pleasant things is a good sign that I'm getting better. I haven't been depressed this week. I even ate hash browns today.

I have never felt so run down, so unattractive, so personally neglected, and in need of pampering as I have these last few months. My skin looks bad, my hair is flat with no shine, and my nails are a mess. Even after my nightly ten hours of sleep my eyes have rings under them. It seems perfectly reasonable to me that all I can dream about is luxury, spas, diamonds, house help, and no kids.

The 8th Year

May it be sweet.

Hand in Hand in Hand

You know that cliche phrase so often used at Christian weddings? "A cord of three strands is not easily broken", meaning, that two people alone are not as strong as two people bound by God. I'm feeling that now.

A move like this strips so many of our supports away and it is a great (ouch) way to take stock of ourselves and our marriage.

I've been hitting a wall this week, and like many other things, I know that it isn't something for me to take up with the Captain, but something for me to take up with God.

To preface, I am a stay-at-home mother. I think that infancy and the years leading up to school build the foundation that the rest of a person's life stands on. I think that if a child is nurtured and carefully led in that time, they'll be on a good track for life. So, even though I have a strong passion to do other work, I am setting that aside for now to give my full attention to my children.  Many women succeed at working and nurturing their children. Knowing myself well, I don't think I would be able to do those simultaneously to my satisfaction. So, stay home it is (for now).

Most of the time I am at peace with my choice. Sometimes, I am not. When I'm not I re-evaluate and so far I've always re-chosen this life, what I'm doing now.

It's been hard during this move, where my schedule is void of the outside-the-home activities where I contributed to projects and ideas. It has been hard to support the Captain as he looks for jobs. It is sometimes  hard for me that his profession is a money-maker, while mine is not. It can be hard that his field is widely recognized as successful, with monetary compensation and prestige, while mine goes under-payed and overworked (that is, my work in children's welfare, before I came home as a mother).

Right now, the only roles I have here are wife and mother and neither are glamorous. My husband is taking his pick of jobs offered while I am ironing his shirts. It's not his fault that that gets me. If it was me interviewing, he'd be helping me out. And it's not his responsibility to make me feel better with my choice. He can play a role, but I have to come to a place where I'm secure in who I am and what I'm doing.

Right now I think that means plugging my ears to let in the inner quiet where I can hear what God has to say to me. It might mean that I need to change what I'm doing. It might mean that I need to listen for awhile to who I am.  Really, I think that sometimes I need to out-shout this voice that says what I'm doing isn't important. They are short years. Really short. They'll be gone before I know it. I don't want to miss it.

Working for (too little) pay can wait.

I just need to find my inner strength, here, while I'm wishing the Captain good luck on his first day at work. On Monday.

Our Adoption Game Plan

Sometimes I am afraid that in midlife The Captain and I will have a marriage crisis and he'll say "this whole adoption thing was always your deal!" and I'll realize it was my steam running the train. Here we are, committed for life, with very separate passions and dreams. We honor and value each other, but I'd be lying if I said I lay awake at night dreaming about writing beautiful code. And while he will talk about adoption ethics with me as long as I want, it's not what keeps HIM up at night.

That said, we are in agreement that adoption is the primary way we want to build our family. We decided that before "I Do", before we started penciling "baby" into our highly organized life plan.

This weekend we got a chance to talk about what we're going to do about hypothetical child #3 and true to our natures, we have a plan, and here it is:

I'm following up on some leads on an agency that works with ex-pats. It's not the first one that I was disappointed with. If that agency looks like one we'd be satisfied with, we will work on getting a new homestudy completed before we move.

Taking one thing at a time, (Ik hoord dat jij een beetje gestressed  was, voor onze, Mam!)  we will acclimate to Sydney, and consider starting the adoption process before the year it out.

Sydney has a very large Asian migrant population, and I think Chinese might be the second language. There are large populations from many Asian countries, and India. I hope that living there will help us clarify a connection to a country. I've just recently found out more about internationally OPEN adoption programs in Taiwan and the Marshall Islands. Really interesting stuff. And another domestic U.S. adoption is not out of the picture.

So it's the best of both worlds: we're making steady progress towards adopting (which I appreciate) and we're putting our main energy and focus on the move (which The Captain appreciates). We're a good team, and I think this is a good plan.

Not Your Average Joe

Recently Snapper's Momma wrote about her home's economics and how she and Attic Man get stuff done. In thinking about her post and watching another friend survive her husband's three week long business trip to India, I've been reflecting on The Captain and the way we do things.

You know how women often like to have the husband bashing session when they're out for a girl's night? "my husband forgot my birthday, my husband never does anything to help around the house, my husband likes to play with the kids but not do any of the real work..."  you know the drill. Well during those rounds of the conversation I just settle back and sip my lemon drop, waiting for the storm to blow over. I have no complaints. I just can't identify.

Maybe I'm selfish, but I stand up for what I want in our relationship. I think we have a pretty good foundation of being generous with each other, and offering more when one or the other needs more. We both work hard. I love that The Captain recognizes that what I do, staying home with our children, is important, and exhausting. So if you want a list of stuff my Superman does, it includes, but is not limited to:

the dishes after dinner, getting the kids ready for bed, constant picking up around the house (we're both compulsive), agreed no-cook Friday where we go out or he brings home take-out, helping with the laundry if I'm having a hard time making it happen, emptying the dishwasher a couple times a week, taking out the trash most of the time, getting our cars serviced, buying me flowers and random gifts (because I'm into that), letting me sleep in while he takes the kids some weekend mornings, being fine with my generous clothes allowance and not grudging me spending money on items he wouldn't buy, gladly giving money to causes I feel are important, changing the kids diapers and getting them dressed before he leaves for work in the morning, yea, the list goes on and on.

He tells me he loves me. Every night at dinner we talk about our day and he really wants to hear how mine was. We put the kids to bed right after dinner and spend the rest of the night together. He asks my opinion. He is patient when I am controlling, funky, or hungry ("you better know the one you love. She may be hungry, but she won't say. But you better get a burger in her right away. Or else you'll be the one to pay, at the hand of the one you love. - Randy Newman, really genius with that observation!). And when I wake up from a horrible dream that he was cheating on me (brought on by watching a movie where the wife finds that out), he holds me tight and says "baby, I will NEVER cheat on you."

I don't talk about The Captain much at this venue. But I just wanted to take this little minute to say that we don't negotiate who does what. We ask each other to do stuff, and we offer to help each other. Of course The Captain has his faults; don't we all? When it comes down to it though, his faults are very few. He's genius brilliant, generous, kind, loyal, honest, a great father, the best husband, and have I mentioned he's hot? I'm just sayin...

Seven years of Sunshine

In celebration of seven years we went to a five diamond hotel as the guests of a friend. I thought they measured hotels in stars - diamonds must be the next tier up...and this hotel was at the top of the tier.

After using half a grand (!!!) on our gift certificate, enjoying award winning food and the finest amenities a hotel can offer I feel very pampered. I felt sneaky as we waited for our car to be valeted, amidst a party that had three vehicles including two drivers, a security guard and a police escort. My eyes kept ending up on $600 dollar shoes or the $900 stroller. How exactly do you act when you're a guest at a hotel and another guest has a security detail?

After such luxury and opulence I am happy to be home. I am enjoying the richest time in my life yet: snuggling up in the morning next to my best friend before a bright eyed two year old tumbles in to kiss everyone repeatedly, and I curl my daughter into my side to nurse. Our little double bed is a haven of happiness. I'd rather have these three bright eyed beauties over the most luxurious bed with the most extravagant turn-down. ;)

Here's to the next seven years of sunshine.

Blogging, Causes, Spouses, Partners

For the last week or two The Captain and I have spent our nights together in the living room, each immersed in reading. I'm trying to catch up and keep up with blogs, he just started Infidel. I began to feel disconnected, each in our own separate spheres, bobbing in the living room.

It was only last night that I realized I am venturing deeper and deeper into the ideas of anti-racism and adoption reform, only to look by my side for my trusted partner, to find myself alone. I confronted The Captain, standing over him accusingly as he struggled to read in peace. "Don't you care about the racism in our country (for it is his country too now)? We're raising a child who belongs to a race that is routinely discriminated against!" I struggled against his calm.

He told me "whatever chip that you have that sees racism and wants to attack it, I don't have that chip. I'm just not wired that way." My instinct was to accuse him of not caring, of swimming in white privilege that gives him the ability to not care. But, upon a moment's reflection, I know that is not true. Something else is at play here.

The Captain is European. Dutch. He went to college in Amsterdam. He grew up in an international family, doing international things. He is not saddled with the history of our country. Though he has become a citizen, our roots, so compromised with corruption, aren't his roots. I guess he could worry about whether or not his ancestors were part of the slave trade, but he doesn't. That's not who he is.

He has an indomitable optimism. A clear eye for beauty and truth. I'm glad that as I'm raking around in this muck he is standing tall, breathing in the wind, and holding my hand tightly.

I'd really like to know what it is like for all you other bloggers (who are all women on my blogroll, incidentally)? Does the person that you share your life with share your passion for the cause you blog about? If not, how do they relate to your passion? Does it alienate you from each other?

I'm heading off for a long weekend of bathing in lakes, playing in dappled woods, and laughing with my children and several generations of my people. The freckled Irish and dark-eyed french that brought me to where I am.