"Pway trains!"

Here are some pictures from about a month ago of the boys "playing" together in New Zealand:

War On Mold

This is the wall behind my kitchen cabinet and fridge. The room we’ve made into our kitchen wasn’t originally intended to be a kitchen, so all the steam has nowhere to go. After a couple months of cooking happening in there, the wall looked like this when we got back. I’m a little worried, because I know mold isn’t very good for you, and we all spend lots of time in the kitchen because it has our only table. Any suggestions on how to wage war on mold?

Our Constipated Infant-- Loose At Last!

I know, I know—too much information. But seriously, I was starting to get a bit concerned. Ben hadn’t pooped since last Sunday, which makes this Day 8. I’ve been bracing myself for a massive blow-out: switched from cloth to disposable diapers yesterday, in the hopes of being able to throw the whole thing away after it happened… and nothing happened.

::sigh::

And then tonight—he pooped! While I was feeding him before bedtime, with no drama whatsoever. And it was just a normal poo, as if he hadn’t been storing it up for over a week… where did he put it all???

Benjamin Timothy, 3 months old

We made it!

It was a grueling trip from Thailand to Central Asia, including a stressful, rushed taxi ride to the airport only to find our flight was delayed 1.5 hours; then 7 hours on the plane, plus another 2.5 hours crawling along a very bumpy road out to our village—we arrived at our house at 6am after traveling since 2pm the day before!

But 3 days later, we are all sleeping well and the boys are settling in very well to this house… Will loves all the big rooms, and recognized his room and his toys right away—in fact, the morning we arrived he was raring to go (having slept on the plane and in the car), and we were utterly exhausted. So I tried to get him to lay down on his bed with me and go back to sleep, but he only stayed down about 30 seconds and then popped up to play again. I just kept laying there on his bed, too tired to move. As I drifted off to sleep, I was aware of him planting a kiss on my head—“Night-night, Mom!” – and getting his dog for me—“Cud-doh dog, Mom!” My toddler is tucking me in, was my last thought. Should I be worried? When I woke up at 10am (still in his bed), he was fast asleep next to me. Guess not.

Our neighbors have welcomed us back with open arms. My sweet language tutor from the summer came over on Saturday, our first day back, having seen James walking to the shops. It “just happened” to be her last day home before leaving for another 2 months of school—it was SO wonderful to see her. She oohed and aahed over Benjamin, and then did the requisite “Thew! Set (ugly)!” to the side afterwards, to ward off the Evil Eye. My heart just breaks for this superstitious culture.

That same evening Zoya, my 50-year-old friend down the road, stopped in, just as we were sitting down to scrambled eggs and toast. While she was still standing in the doorway, right after exchanging greetings, she told us her husband passed away of a sudden heart attack on October 18, eight days before Benjamin was born. He was only 52. She has 3 grown children and another 10-year-old daughter, Rosa, at home. She said Rosa just wanders around all day crying because she misses her daddy. “Kandak kiliman?” she said sadly. “What will I do?”

Monday morning our elderly next-door neighbors stopped by, with some bread and a gift for Benjamin, and chatted away to us like they’d known us for years and we’d been away for much longer than 5 months. They are so sweet—they’re like William’s local grandparents. They said we should call Benjamin the name of the first Muslim (whose name apparently also begins with a B)… we chuckled politely and noncommittally… neither of us felt ready to dive into why we wouldn’t name our child after a Muslim.

Today I went out with the boys for the first time by myself, all bundled up. It’s not nearly as cold as I expected, with warm sunshine, so it’s slushy and the streets are fairly clear. It looks like we’ve missed the worst of the winter, praise God. The shopkeeper ladies were thrilled to see us—my tutor’s mother was one of them, and her sister-in-law, both exclaiming over how much William has grown and how cute Benjamin is (“Thew! Set!”), and how much he looks like James… it’s like coming back to relatives, and we’ve only known these people a few months. Amazing.

We are thrilled and relieved to be back, and have been showered with love from teammates and neighbors alike. Our new teammates (who stayed in our house while we were gone) bought us groceries and brought dinner over on Sunday night. Their little 18-month-old son and William had a great time playing together—I hope they’ll be good friends.

Pictures to come, when I can resize them so they don’t take hours on our dial-up. Thank you for praying for our transition! Praise God it’s all gone so well already!

Visas in hand...

...off to Central Asia! Thank God for 1-month visas in hand, and the promise (hopefully) of an extension to 6 months or a year once we're in country. Unfortunately, visas for our family cost almost a literal arm and leg, so that's not good news... but good thing our God owns the cattle on a thousand hills!

I am not looking forward to being in another airport with our toddler, at least not if he has another day like today... It's a shame the cute moments are sandwiched in between lots and lots of very NOT cute moments, like angrily lashing out and yelling ballistically whenever he's disciplined, or throwing an absolute fit in front of everyone at the pool when Ben lost the plot and I had to pull him out of the water early and drag my two screaming children into the elevator... thankfully there was a nice man to hold the door and push the elevator buttons, and Ben was in his buggy so he couldn't go anywhere... I feel like my life lately is made up of one long string of physically stressful moments!

Anyway, the cute moment from today was Will's running monologue while playing with his trains... "Oh! Dayah's Gordon! Hi Gordon! Unduh bridge, Gordon! Unduh bridge, James! James Daddy! Mom, James Daddy! (He's only just figured out that James is Daddy's name too) Oh! Day go (there you go), Hectuh! Day go Bul-lee (Billy)!"

And Benjamin's non-cute moment (most of his other moments are cute these days) was when he pooped not once but TWICE in his new Thailand Huggies, which are definitely not as leak-proof as New Zealand Huggies... and got poop on James's pants in the tuk-tuk (Thai open-air taxi) and then poop on my skirt at the restaurant... yay, Ben. So that's why your tummy was hurting all day.

::sigh:: So pray for us tomorrow on the 6-hour blasting hot furnace-y flight to Central Asia, when we arrive at 1am and still have a 2 hour drive to our house... thankfully our new teammates have bought breakfast food and sussed things out for us, so hopefully we can just crash into bed when arrive... They say it's cold. Here I am in Thailand's blasting heat and humidity... how cold can it be?

All I know is, it will be WONDERFUL to be in our own house, where we will stay for a good long time, Lord willing, and be able to start our new "Whip Our Two Year Old Into Shape Right Quick" regime ASAP. Just having a consistent environment will help, for starters! Thank you so much for thinking of us... more hopefully sooner than later.

(By the way, our camera charger got left in New Zealand, so we're hoping to buy a new one here in Thailand before we go... that's why there aren't any pictures of the boys at the pool :( Oh well...)

Two-year-olds...

...are impossible.

1) They have no concept of cause and effect (so they have no idea that if they refuse to let you change their poopy diaper they will have a red, itchy, sore bum).

2) They must do everything themselves (which takes twice as long and is never quite adequate).

3) The entire universe is “MINE!”

4) You can’t understand what they’re thinking because they have no logic (or if they do, it’s two-year-old logic, which makes no sense)…

5) …therefore, it’s impossible to reason with them—you’re wasting your breath.

6) You can’t physically control them, especially if they weigh close to 30 pounds!

If they decide (for whatever illogical two-year-old reason) not to comply with your desires, your only options are:

a) Cajoling (which requires twice as much creative energy, takes twice as long, and works only sometimes)

b) Threatening (which hardly ever works—see complaint No. 2 above),

or

c) Brute force (which results in huge amounts of noise, is nigh unto impossible with a 30-pound toddler, and is illegal in some countries).

However, when your two-year-old...

...looks up at your new hairstyle and says "Pretty, Mom!"

…skips over to his baby brother with “Hi, Ben!” and plants an unsolicited kiss on his forehead

…insists on wearing his blue baseball cap (that exactly matches his eyes) backwards at the most rakishly adorable angle

…prays spontaneously before eating with “Dear Jesus, yum food…Amen”

…willingly offers hugs to people he’s just met moments before

…at the suggestion of blowing bubbles starts singing, “Bubbles pop… bubbles pop, pop, pop!”

…puts on Daddy’s sunglasses upside-down and comes running over laughing uproariously, and then carefully puts them on his head like he’s seen Daddy do and says “on head!”

…asks “dat foah?” about every new object

…remembers “gud-duh” (cluster) from yesterday’s episode of bubble-blowing

then you remember that this two-year-old phase is like those bubbles—ephemeral and quickly popped—and you decide to deal with the impossible as quickly and deftly as possible, and savor the adorable.