First Days

The first morning of school...it was a mad dash! Gobbling down breakfast, grabbing lunches from the bottom shelf of the fridge, and taking backpacks lined along the wall near the front door. There was very little time for philosophising or emotions. We had a moment of small peace during family prayer...then we were out the door.  

So many firsts! This was Leasie's first day of Middle School - how blessed she was to have her big sister there to ride the bus with and reassure her that all would be well. First day of 4th grade for Tman and Meya.

This was also my first day as a full time high school teacher. I had all the mixed emotions you can expect. (Am I doing the right thing? Will I be a good teacher? Will I be a good mom? Can I balance the stress of teaching? Will my children need therapy in the future because of this decision?) But mostly I felt blessed to have this opportunity to make and save some money, do something I LOVE, and get to experience school with the kids. (I could NOT do the full time gig without Yuli - our full time maid/nanny/amazing lady! - more to come about her in future blogs). 

CJ took the picture below of us as the buses waited in our driveway. I like the way it seems a bit dreamlike with the out-of-focus light over my shoulder. This is the way I remember the morning - almost dreamlike in the frenzy and excitement.

Just one week later, CJ joined us in the "firsts" category. She started Kindergarten! This beginning did not occur without a few hiccups. We had wanted her to join us at Jakarta International School, but she did not meet the age cutoff. Last spring, we tried everything to convince JIS to make an exception. We had VA county school information sent, we involved the embassy liaison, and even tried to pull strings with friends who serve on the JIS board of trustees. I thought maybe I'd have special pull as a JIS teacher. But JIS did not budge.

CJ was ready for Kindergarten, and if we were in the US she made the VA county school deadline. So I was very frustrated by the denial. But I picked myself up and got to work investigating different school options. We found a wonderful Montessori school...just walking distance from our house. We got approval from the embassy and registered her. In the end, I think this is exactly where Heavenly Father wanted her to be. It is a good fit. And although I would have preferred she was close to the rest of us, she has a wonderful teacher and only 5 children in her class - so she gets lots of teacher attention.  

CJ is used to being left behind...so you can imagine her excitement to be one of the "big kids" finally going to school.

There were no tears from me on this happy day. You can read past blogs about first school days where I was an emotional wreck. Not today. I knew CJ was ready, and I knew she was going to be happy. (There was also the fact that Owen suffered a major head wound the same morning while exercising, and we were bandaging him up and making medical arrangements for him. Oh the trauma!)

I love this picture of CJ at 6:30pm that same evening. During family home evening we looked over and saw her head bobbing in pure exhaustion. We carried her upstairs, changed her into pjs, and she slept until morning. 

A letter to my Children

My Dear Children,

Although the summer is three weeks in our past, I couldn’t leave it behind without a few parting thoughts.

This was the summer we ate the most delicious bread in the world.  Do you remember the day we enjoyed pastries, gelato, giant soft pretzels dipped in sugar, and éclairs (all in one day!)? Do you remember walking to the bread shop in Munster on the cobblestone sidewalks and ordering practically one of everything?

This was the summer we climbed the steps of Notre Dame helping CJ look for Quasimodo. We gasped as the lights of the Eiffel Tower twinkled, and we huddled together in the cold wind. 

This was the summer Tman, Meya, and CJ were introduced to Utah. I loved watching you all play barefoot in the creek for hours at the park near Aunt Connie’s house.

We ended our “Musical fast” and went to two shows: Ragtime and Mulan. Joy!

This was the summer of your first concert: Kelly Clarkson and Carly Rae Jepson at the Stadium of Fire. We boogied and sang in the stands. Your faces reflected the lights of the fireworks: red, green, blue, and yellow. I cried as they offered a prayer for the Americans serving overseas and thought of your Dad.

This was the summer of a long drive to and from St. George on wonderfully open roads. Madi, you kept me company while the rest of the children slept. Remember “no services” in Holden, the mirage town? Beaver – voted as having the best water in the country? “I spy…sage brush.” Remember watching the sky fall in sheets of grey from mountainous clouds?

This was the summer of tender mercies – Heavenly Father allowed us to see our dear friends the Andersons and the Petersons. An afternoon at a park, a dinner on the 4^th of July, and a reunion at Olive Garden.

This was the summer of the calico critter zombie musical. The summer of “The One and Only Ivan.” Who knew a story about a gorilla and elephant could tug on my heart? And this was the summer we realized just how much Jakarta has become “home to us.”

Sure, there was the storm and flood near Paris when we thought we were going to die (for real). And of course the elephant-ankles after the 30 hours of air travel. There was the broken-but-not-broken air conditioner in the car and the horrendously expensive car rental. There was also the lost camcorder and iphone which still makes me nauseous. And of course, there was the last 12 hours in America when I did "the chicken" (squawking with flapping arms) in a panic because of the stress of packing. But in spite of these less than stellar moments, when I look back on the summer, I find myself wondering just what I could have done to deserve this much joy.

Thank you for spending the best summer of my life with me.  

Love,

Mom

Woodlands

Our entire US summer visit was contingent on one family: the Woodlands. They graciously allowed us to stay in their home in Centerville Utah for weeks (yes, weeks with an "s"!).

In addition to getting to stay in their lovely home, we loved spending time with them. On our first night, as we unpacked from our long flight, CJ disappeared. I found her upstairs with Aunt Connie reading books. This is the first time CJ had met Aunt Connie. They got along splendidly!

 We spent a fun evening walking by the Bountiful Temple followed by custard at the Galaxy shop.

 

My cousin Luke joined us multiple evenings for pounce and ice cream. And when I pulled out my small box of sparklers (admittedly a bit pathetic), Luke supplemented our 4th of July celebration with some REAL fireworks. There may have been a tipped-over firework, fire, and screams (from men, women, and children) as sparks flew toward us instead of the sky, but I swore I'd never tell. 

A highlight of the entire summer was listening to my Uncle Lee read aloud his children's book. We gathered in his lamp-lit living room. The kids snuggled on the couch in their pjs.

Mackie, Uncle Lee's faithful companion, endured our affection then trotted around until he found a comfy spot, usually near Uncle Lee's feet.

 

The story, rife with allusions to real family stories, beautiful descriptions and heart-tugging moments, brought us to laughter and tears. My children looked forward to story time with Uncle Lee and often begged me, "Just one more chapter, please?" There was such a feeling of love and peace as I sat with my children and basked in the beautiful words and story.  I'm sure there will be a day this book will be sitting on the Barnes and Noble bookshelves. And I will always remember the joy of these summer nights getting to hear it for the first time.

On my last day in the United States, I was a wreck. There were too many bags to pack and weigh. Then I realized I had more room in a suitcase and took a crazy last minute shopping trip to Target and Costco. And the thought of 30 hours of travel had me in a panic. Thankfully, Aunt Connie took my kids to the park and to Dairy Queen (for corndogs and blizzards - another summer "to do" checklist item). Thanks to Aunt Connie, my children's last day in America was full of good things and good memories.

Thank you, Woodlands, for all the love and for making our summer so memorable.

Mountains, Beach, and Blackberry Pie

Where in the world can you go from snowy mountain peaks to a sandy beach…in the same day?

Washington State. 

My parents live in a beautiful place (at least during the summer months), and we were fortunate to get to visit them for a week in July.

The kids and I hiked near Rattlesnake lake, had a snowball fight on the slopes of Mt.Rainier near Paradise lodge, built a sand castle at Pacific Beach, all while spending time with Grandma and Poppy.

Some of my favorite moments were:

*Playing Fox Tail at Soos Creek.

*Panera Bread and a movie with my sister Jen (she was such a trooper – agreeing to see “Despicable Me 2” even though she hadn’t seen the first one.) 

*Lunch at Paradise lodge.

*The epic bowling game (grandma did not win.)
*The even more epic croquet game (grandma did not win! inconceivable!)
*Pounce (grandma won...more than once and the balance of the universe was restored.)

*Rootbeer taste-testing with Poppy:

  

There was also the incident of Madi chasing after Poppy and Grandma's car on the entrance ramp to the highway because they had forgotten to give us the car keys. We were stranded! Madi sprinted in her flipflops, the strings of her monkey hat trailing behind her.

And then there was Sand Soaking. 

The beaches in the Pacific North-West are not known for warmth. (Remember the scenes in "Twilight" of Bella shivering on the beach?) The beach at Pacific Beach was no different. We wore multiple layers, and our fingers grew numb from digging in the chilly, wet sand. After Poppy and Elise searched for sand dollars and Grandma helped collect shells and sticks to decorate our sand castle, they returned to the rental house because it was super cold. The kids and I lingered…CJ wanted to finish her sand castle and Amelia was wet to her knees from a rogue wave.

We sought shelter from the wind near the grassy dunes. Here, the sand rose and fell in little rippled hills. They almost looked like ocean waves. Amelia, who was barefoot (her shoes were soaked), stepped near the edge of one of these small sand hills and stopped. “Mom, it’s soooo warm!” she announced.

I put my hand on the sand. It was indeed warm. Deliciously warm.

We took our shoes off and let our feet sink into the warm sand. As soon as the warmth dissipated, we moved on to the next spot.

I’m not sure who thought of it first, but soon we moved from sand soaking our feet to sitting on the warm hills. Soakin' our bums. The heat from the sand was like sitting on a heated car seat. Soon we lay down in the warm sand, letting the heat warm our arms, back, neck. A natural heat massage.

We didn’t want to leave.

Here's the only picture we have of the beach: Truman must have been doing more than sand-soaking; this was sand-immersion!

On our last morning, we awoke to the smell of blackberry pie. This was the second pie in a week! It was Grandma's sendoff gift of love in the form flaky crust and sweet-sour blackberries.

  

As I was growing up, my parents taught me to enjoy adventures. So it was true to the legacy that Grandma and Grandpa packed our week full of grand adventures.

 

Sister Time

Alphabetically I'm to the Guisingers (even though, chronologically, St. George was our final stop of the summer).

We drove to my sister's house in St. George in mid-July. If I'm being honest, I need to say I was a little worried my large crew would be overwhelming for my sister and her very neat, very clean, very orderly house (she's extremely talented in this way). But we were greeted with a huge warm welcome, delicious food, and lots of joy. In fact, in the three days we were there, I never once felt as though my children were a burden or in any way un-welcome. And to my sister's credit, that is saying a lot. Cuz we are, after all, a large group!

Katie planned such fun activities.We picnicked.

She threw a surprise "un-birthday" party for the kids to (in her words) "make up for the past two years of birthdays." Cupcakes, balloons, party hats, and gifts. So much fun.

We toured downtown St. George where we splashed in the fountains, rode on the carousel, and ate delicious ice cream (I also had breadsticks and soup) at Jed's old fashioned candy store. Katie proposed we buy wax lips and wax mustaches for this fun picture.

 

Katie wasn't the only one who made sure we had fun. Uncle Joe carved out a morning to take Tman shooting. They stopped at the store for donuts on the way there. Tman used a 22 rifle to shoot at a plastic water bottle and targets. To this day, when Tman is asked about his favorite part of the summer, he always answers: "Shooting with Joe." Now remember, this is the summer we went to France. But shooting trumps it all. Tman saved one of the plastic water bottles from the outing (with lots of the bullet holes) and has it proudly displayed along side his soccer and chess trophies on his dresser.  

I can't write about Katie and Joe without writing about my adorable niece. I missed getting to see Katie pregnant. And I missed out on seeing Megan as a brand new baby. But oh the joy of holding her! Or seeing my children play with her! - eclipsed only by watching my sister be an incredible mom. One of the saddest parts of returning to Jakarta was knowing I wouldn't get to hold this precious girl for another year.

 

There are many precious moments I don't have pictures of. Katie and I got up early to run on two mornings. Joe saved me the first time because I was delirious with dehydration (true story) at mile five. The second time, we were more prepared with a mid-way water drop. Nine miles of pure joy, running along the river as the sun rose, just talking to my sister. Then there was the cooking and eating. I loved Katie's crockpot mexican chicken and her amazingly healthy, delicious granola. She helped me find all the ingredients so I could make it here in Jakarta. Lunch at the Painted Pony was divine. And of course, a little shopping at our favorite clothing stores.

When I think back on this time in St. George there is another memory that stands out. We had just returned home after watching "Mulan" at the outdoor theater at Tuacan. Joe and Katie had lit their outdoor fire pit and prepared an incredible spread of smore fixings. I'm sure they were both tired - Joe had worked all day, Katie was balancing entertaining and being a mom to Megan. But they didn't make us feel that.

Joe showed us the trick to a perfect smore - putting the graham cracker with chocolate near the fire so the chocolate is all gooey. Our fingers were chocolatey, our lips were sticky with marshmallow, Joe had his arm around Katie, and I remember feeling such love for them.

We sat under the stars, ate smores, and just enjoyed each other.

Having a sister like Katie and getting to share this special time with her and her beautiful family is one of the biggest blessings of my life.

What is better than Costco and Target?

Family.

Let me start with the Abbes (I'll make it easy and just go alphabetically).

First of all, I have not done a great job keeping in touch (Sorry!!). We have facebook, yes. But that's about it. So I was humbled and overwhelmed with gratitude at the warm welcome we received from Owen's brother and sister and their families.

There was the barbeque at Eddie's house and a breathtakingly beautiful (and freezing!) hike in Snowbird.

 

Then a delicious introduction to Iceberg milkshakes (wow, wow, wow).

And a gumbo feast (such a labor of love to have this authentic southern treat) followed by smores at Dawn's house.

We felt so loved. And we loved being "home" with them.

Aren't cousins the best?

America - the Land of Plenty (and Havarti Cheese)

My arrival in America was VERY different than I'd expected. Having been gone for two years, I thought I'd have a special emotional response to our return. I thought I'd look out the airplane window at the Wasatch Mountains and get a lump in my throat. I thought I have a swell of patriotic pride when I saw the "Welcome to the United States of America" sign. And I thought I'd break down into sobs of grateful tears as I breathed in the dry, clean air.

Nope.

Instead, I was really air sick. As in, throw-up-five-times air sick. As in, the airline stewardess handing me a steady supply of throw-up bags. And most embarrassing of all, as in, having to lay down on the floor while waiting in line to clear customs. Yep. That was my welcome back to the good 'ol USA.

Even my reunion with my wonderful Aunt Connie was marred by the necessity to run over to the bushes where I dry heaved because there was nothing (NOTHING) left to throw up.

Here is my lovely daughter reenacting my throw up moment in Aunt Connie's front yard:

 

(Thank you Leasie for capturing this memorable moment with such dramatic flare!)

Thankfully, I DID recover. And my anticipated emotional response to being back in America came. But again, it didn't come as expected.

I went to Target (cue clouds parting, beams of light shining down, and a heavenly chorus singing angelic praises). I was all by myself - I just wanted to get a few grocery items. Pushing the cart down the wonderfully wide aisles, I went to find cheese for sandwiches. First of all, the cheese section was like a WALL of cheese. Oh the choices! Oh the variety! As I scanned the labels, I saw a package of Havarti cheese.

I stopped. I stared. Havarti cheese! And the tears flowed.

Crazy, right? Well here's the thing: I'd forgotten Havarti cheese existed. And it's my FAVORITE cheese for sandwiches. Two years without the option of Havarti cheese, and I'd forgotten all about it. Completely forgotten.

Suddenly the wall of cheese represented everything I'd missed over the past 2 years. And once the flood gates opened, there was no stopping the tears. It seemed everywhere I looked, there were food items I'd forgotten about, missed out on, or just done without. I cried over the bag of heathbars, I cried over the greek yogurt, I cried over the bagged spinach, I cried over the frozen fish sticks, I cried over the aisle of haircare products, and yes, I cried over the hormel hams (an entire refrigerated shelf FULL of delicious hams!)

Did fellow Target shoppers think I was crazy? Probably, yes. But I didn't care. I was having my therapeutic post-traumatic-Jakarta breakdown.

America IS the land of plenty. The land of Havarti cheese.

Over the next few days, it was as though I was on a stimulant. Gone were the tears. It was just shop, shop, shop. Oh the elation! The gratitude of being back! So incredible.

Do you know what it's like to go to a store with a list of items you want to buy, and you can find ALL OF THEM?! Joy, people. Joy.

Madi took a couple choice pictures of us as we did "Jumps for Joy!" in front of our favorite stores:

 

 

 Costco. A slice of heaven. The berries you see below...we ate them all in three days.

 What? Cute, modest dresses at Costco?! Happy dance!

 Ross. Oh Ross, how I love your shoe racks!

I know America has much more to offer than Target, Costco, and Ross (and I'll be writing about that too). But having been deprived for two years, it was wonderful to be back. A huge thanks to patient, kind Aunt Connie who went shopping with us those first couple days. Thanks for laughing with us! And thanks for never rolling your eyes at my unfiltered joy over such simple things.