Growing Family

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.

In Search of Experience

I think a big part of what inspires and maintains us as individuals, and gives us something to give each other, is new experiences. I've got a bit of griping to get out. I hope you don't mind.

When we came to Nashville six years ago, we thought that we'd only be here for a couple years for me to go to school. I don't think we planned on staying. It's been so long, I'm having trouble remembering what our intentions were. We've been ready to leave for about three years now. I feel like we've done a really good job of keeping disappointment at bay, with nurturing hope, and giving everything we can to invest in where we are, while keeping our eye on where we want to be.

Can I just say, I am tired. I've found this dual dynamic in several life experiences in the last couple years. Expending energy in opposite directions, I mean. First in trying to maintain hope we'd get pregnant, and trying not to be disappointed when we didn't (before we adopted we committed a year to trying to get pregnant). Then, in trying to be ready to adopt at any time while being ready to wait a long time to be chosen by a mother. Then, during my pregnancy with The Sprout, I wanted to try to enjoy every moment while I wanted to hurry up and get it over with (I was still throwing up at 23 weeks). And now, several years into trying to move overseas, we've been building friendships here, we've bought a house, we've invested a lot, all while trying to leave.

When is it going to be time? I've had so many friends who don't want to be in Nashville and have spent a lot of energy being upset that they're here. I don't want to go sour like that. I don't want to be bitter. But I do so want the next experience. I so want our next adventure. I'm tempted to push The Captain into something neither of us really want, just to get the ball rolling. Like, to try to convince him to move to Holland, even though I know he doesn't want to.

I'm not convinced that Sydney is the right place for us. Heck, I've never even been there. It's just that I want to GO. I want to pack up everything and try somewhere new. Yes I'll miss my friends, yes I'll miss my family terribly. But I've got the itch. Everything is starting to feel too small here. Our house, our neighborhood, our life. I guess I'm like the butterfly struggling in the cocoon. I just didn't know it would take so long to hatch.

The State of Our Union

I've got a lot on my mind and writing always helps me to sort things out. I might write a few posts at once in order to sort the clutter that is my brain.

We have had a relatively uneventful six and a half years of marriage. We tend to ride that middle line, straight and steady, between highs and lows. We are both prudent, placid people who always keep sight of "reason" when experiencing our emotions. That is good for staying out of trouble and arguments, but a little lackluster for getting into fun.

The best thing we've always had going for us is talking. We communicate really well. We are in the habit of talking about our daily lives and we have those intense stay-up-to-see-the-sunrise kinds of talks too. We get each other in a unique way. There isn't anyone else around who really "gets" either of us like that. So, we're best friends and have been since we were teenagers.

So far we've never really experienced any major troubles. And I wouldn't say that we're really in trouble now. Having a second child has really impacted our relationship though. We've always had this buffer of personal space/sleep/time alone to help us maintain graciousness towards each other. With two kids, neither of us is getting enough sleep, time to explore ourselves as individuals, or time to do things we enjoy. My parents have told us, and countless other couples, that it is important to continue to  build on things you like to do together because the things that  bonded you in the beginning won't stay around forever. They say that's why people fall in love, have kids, interact with each other around the kids for twenty years, and then when the kids move out, find they have nothing holding them together. So my parents say to be proactive - build the bridge between you steadily, constantly, carefully.

Lately, falling onto the couch to watch a show at the end of the night has become our "quality" time. We've talked about it - it's a season, one of these days it will change. We're simply so tired. We've been caring for others' needs all day. We don't have anything left to give each other. We don't have anything left to give ourselves. It's sad, but it's where we are.

Last night we went out on a date. Riding in the car I found I hardly had anything to say. I felt ambivalent about the prospect of time together. How do you nurture passion, interest, connectedness when you are in the thick of diapers, whiners, beautiful baby smiles, and early mornings? I never wanted to be that wife - the one in the baggy t-shirt, feigning a headache in bed at night. I'm scared of turning into the woman whose world is so centered on her kids that her husband is floating on the outside like Pluto. I just don't know how to find the balance. The kids NEED so much. Meeting their needs is not optional. There's no time off.

How can I present myself as an energetic half of this relationship when I feel less than myself so much of the time? I know this is all temporary, I'm just wondering what we do in the meantime? Mom, Dad, how do you build the bridge?