Almost

It's that almost time of year. I took Pepper on a walk and the smaller neighborhood tree buds are just about to pop. So close that tomorrow, or maybe later this afternoon, I suspect that there will be leaves. Real leaves.

It's a relief.

I've never been good at waiting. I was the kid who couldn't sleep on Christmas Eve. After sleepless hours waiting for the house to go quiet, I would stumble out to the tree and organize the presents into piles. I passed the time by counting my presents, piling them up, and doing the same for everyone else's. Finally, I would rearrange them all and go wait in bed. I did eventually sleep, but no more than a few hours. It was tortuous.

It was a relief when my family began opening most of the presents on Christmas Eve, like my mom's family had done when she was a kid. I could finally get some rest.

Waiting is  why I don't like to travel. This is true. I've lived on three continents, traveled to and through more States and countries than I have the energy to count right now, but I don't like car rides or planes, and especially buses. I don't like them because while I'm on them I'm waiting to get to my destination.

Well, and because they smell funny. And the toilet issue (Fun fact. I made a couple transatlantic flights before I finally gave in and used the airplane toilet. I don't recommend this, btw). 

I talked to someone this weekend who had traveled to China. Fifteen hour plane trip. Eleven was the most I've ever done, and I think I will just plan to never go to China. It makes me physically cringe to think of living over half of a day in the in-betweeness of a plane ride.

When we travel as a family, even in the relative freedom of a car, I hunker down and try to be civil, but they know to not expect much. I'm friendlier once we've arrived.

This weekend at our church retreat, we talked about light and darkness. On Good Friday, kids and adults together listed facts and ideas about light. On Saturday we did the same exercise with darkness. I thought about how darkness makes me long for light.

This long Winter made me long for Spring in a way that I never have before. Spring has always been a welcome relief after Winter, but this year is different. March was hard. Not knowing when the weather would finally turn, when buds would appear, when the snow would be gone; the indefiniteness of the waiting made it dark and tiring for me. 

The hardest waiting I've ever done was in the middle of our years of fighting infertility when we lived in Gabon. The beginning was hard, as it was clear as we started to "try" that something wasn't right. But still, we had statistics in our favor. Most couples do get pregnant within two years; we were hopeful.

Our last year of trying was also manageable. I had undergone surgery to remove endometriosis, and statistically (again), I would get pregnant within the year if endo was the cause. The calendar year after the surgery contained the waiting. A clear ending made it less painful.

But that middle time of not knowing what the end would be, what we should or should not do, or what God was up to was hard and dark.

I'm not living in an in-between time right now. I pretty much know what I'm up to and what's around the corner as much as any of us do. And I'm thankful, knowing that those waiting times that are so hard for me are not forever. They come and go.

For those living in that in-between time, I do pray for faith and hope. This weekend, Pastor Keith asked one of his kids to come up and hang onto his leg. She wrapped her arms around first and then her legs and held on. He said that this was an illustration of faith.

There have been times when my faith has felt that desperate, that clingy.

But there have been times when others have held me up, and I know that I am held up with arms stronger than mine or my friends'.

The Lord is faithful in all his words

and kind in all his works.

The Lord upholds all who are falling

and raises up all who are bowed down.

Psalm 145 verse 14

Taking a break

I've always been slightly ambivalent about vacations.

Growing up, my family went to visit family. I have good memories of hanging out at Grandma and Grandpa's house, playing with cousins, building card houses, and playing lots and lots of board games. Later memories are at the lake with the mingled smell of sun screen and camp fire at the end of long, lazy days.

During my first year of teaching in Houston, Texas, I lived with two close friends. Since we were teachers and had our breaks at the same time, Jenni suggested going to San Antonio for a few days as a vacation. It was a novel idea for me. I didn't know anyone in San Antonio. We stayed in a classic, old hotel with small rooms and did what you do when visiting lovely San Antonio for the first time--the Alamo and the River Walk. Though I don't have memories of it, we likely ate really good restaurant food.

Many of our family vacations over the last few years have been visiting family/friends kinds of vacations, which I think is still my favorite kind. This is what we did last week.

My very good friend and her daughter (Anna's best friend since she was  four) just moved to Paris this August. Initially,  I figured that Anna and I would head up during this fall break and spend some time with them. It turned into all four of us, and we stayed with another good friend.

On some days, we split up, Scott and Justin going the way of air and space museums and the like while we did other things, like letting the girls roll on the grass by the Eiffel Tower. On others, like the days when we went to Euro Disney for free (woo hoo), we stayed in contact with our cell phones and touched base or traded parents when necessary (like when Justin was ready to try roller coastering-- I am the roller coaster parent).

Our time in Paris was very kid-centered. If I were to go to Paris on my own, I would include a lot more café time, a trip to the Orsay Museum, and probably more time just sitting and chatting. As we did it, it was physically tiring, and filled with lots of activity.

But even though it wasn't necessarily what I would choose to do on my own, I have returned feeling refreshed and more ready to tackle what comes my way in the next few months.

I think I've undergone a shift in the way I view vacations, whatever form they take. I have seen the idea of vacationing as a modern extravagance, which is probably true in some ways.

But, people throughout history and cultures have had their festivals and times where normal life stops for a few days or weeks. I think of the Israelites going up to Jerusalem for yearly festivals, where they walked, talked, sang, and camped out on the way and back. It wasn't only a spiritual time to focus together, but a real break from the routines and pressures of their everyday lives of cooking, fishing, selling, etc.

I also think having vacation time when it is not ridiculously hot is very, very nice.

Modifications

When I first began to research sensory processing disorder in June, I was scanning for practical tips. Things to help with sleep, food issues, schoolwork, travel...It was a relief to know that help was available, that progress could me made, and that medication would not play a role in treatment. However, as the books I ordered arrived, I found myself still scanning, searching for clear, step by step advice.

Although I'm a fairly empathetic parent, there have been times over the years when I have looked around and seen ninety-nine other kids able to do ____________ (fill in the blank--go to sleep at night, eat what is put in front of them, write legibly, sit still in church...) and gotten frustrated because I figured that either Anna just wasn't trying hard enough or that we were doing something wrong.

So, as I read, I was looking both for understanding of why she couldn't do all these things, and how to (as quickly as possible) get her to be like those ninety-nine other children.

The book Raising a Sensory Smart Child threw me for a loop right away. There was a section listing potential problem situations and giving suggestions for dealing with them. I flipped to it right away, again looking for something like "How to help your child with sensory processing disorder go to sleep in three steps." Or "Do this and your child will be able to stand in long lines at airports." What I found was very different. There were good suggestions, often long lists of possible suggestions; but it was also clear that this was not simply about helping the child to adapt, but modifying situations to adapt to the child. And sometimes even completely avoiding situations for a while that a child may not be able to handle.

Then, in September, I had a phone conference with our occupational therapist to get information to pass on to Anna's teachers. I was to tell them that, for now, Anna should write as little as possible. This completely threw me.  I had been thinking that we would ask teachers to tweak certain things, and then work to get Anna to catch up and be capable of being like the other kids in her class as quickly as possible.

So, I think I finally get it, at least ninety-nine percent of the time. Instead of completely freaking out when Anna lost it standing in line at the airport Monday, I was able to understand why she was freaking out. Instead of thinking, "Why is my kid being bratty when all the other kids are fine", I was in problem solving mode, "Why is this situation causing Anna to fall apart?" There wasn't much I could do, but I didn't fall apart.

Since I can't modify standing in lines at airports, I'm wondering if having some kind of ball or toy that she can squeeze on trips would help. And the line was not pleasant for anyone, it wasn't even worthy of being called a line, more like a mass of people all pushing ahead. I guess if we are paying EasyJet prices, real lines aren't included.

We have had stunning days here in Paris and look forward to a couple more days with dear friends before heading back to Nice.

A Day at the Farm

Our best day in Ireland was a day at a farm. We weren't so sure when we arrived how it would go. The weather was cold and rainy, and the only other family waiting for Family Day to start didn't look too enthusiastic. As three o'clock approached, other families arrived, fairly cheerful and equipped with wellington boots and old clothes. We felt a little out of place with our tennis shoes, but were soon sent off to the barn to choose boots of our own.

It took a while to find a pair for Anna.  She wasn't happy about the fit and of course wanted a pink pair.  We eventually found some, but she didn't like them.  I put my right foot into a pair that looked about my size, only to pull it out wet and covered in bog mud.  Ick.  This did not bode well.  I was already cold, which is just a strange sensation to have in August, and now I was to traipse around a farm for three hours with a soggy foot.  The things we do for our children...

It was decided that we would head over to try pig catching first.  The young guide took the wrong way around, which, unfortunately, led us by a very dead sheep lying in the mud.    I told Anna that the sheep was just sick, and she bought it.  Whew.  I mentioned the dead sheep days later to Scott.  He hadn't even noticed.  He and Justin must have been too focused on the pig catching ahead.  In the picture the dead sheep is behind the living one, in the shed.

Several kids got in the pig pen and quickly showed us all that no one would be catching a piglet. The mama pig was remarkably calm, but nonetheless, stood her ground.  We all laughed really hard.

To be continued...

Dvblinia

On our first full day in Ireland, we took the bus into Dublin and visited Dvblinia, a hands-on museum showing Viking and medieval life in Dublin.

We took the requisite photo before entering the museum.  There was only space for one female child though, so we snapped two versions of the medieval Harris family. 

The kids pretended to play with dirty, plastic medieval kids,

and tried on all manner of Viking and medieval head gear.

This one is truly frightening, sorry.

Anna's look is of intense concentration as she endeavors to keep the heavy, slippery chain mail balanced on her head.

Oops, a little big.  

They bought a sword and axe with their vacation spending money.

Day two will be at the zoo.

Welcome

Thought I would blog about our ten days in Ireland.  We're doing a house swap for the first time ever.  The kids love the three cats and the trampoline.  

 Welcome

Ireland greeted us graciously with a double rainbow when we stepped out of the airport to wait for our bus.  She wasn’t done though.  We were advised to take the bus to the center of town and then take a train to get to our place.  A bus at that point might hit all the traffic in the area of town where U2 was playing the last of their three Dublin concerts.  The train slowed down as we approached Croke Park, the concert venue.  And then it stopped and stayed there as the band began their next song, Pride.  The train didn’t budge for the length of the song.  Lovely Ireland.  Lovely welcome.

Back in the States

Just a few quick comments on being back in the States for a few weeks.

1.  I love Costco.  I asked Scott to get two bags of chocolate chips, and I got two Costco size bags of chocolate chips.  So if anyone in Nice has a hankerin' for chocolate chip cookies, you know who to talk to.

2.  Anna loves the walk-in pantry.  Sometimes she goes in and shuts the door behind her and just stands there for a while.

3.  Jet lag is good for getting lots accomplished in the morning.  By eight o'clock in the morning, I've run, read, gotten some work done and am ready for my mid-morning snack.

4.  I like chatty cashiers and friendly customs people.

I'm sure by the time it's time to get back to France, I'll be ready.  It is home.  And that I'll be appreciating all the things that make Nice a really lovely place to be.  But for now I'm appreciating all the things that I like about America--and staying inside as the weather is absolutely unbearable.

Travel

Well, we made it.

The kids and are I happily settled into being taken care of by Grandma and Grandpa.

Our 18 hours in New York were truly terrible, but we did end up in a warm bed for the night. And we did (barely) make our flight the next day.

A few of the nightmarish elements:

Anna screaming as we taxied toward JFK.
Justin sobbing as we deplaned and went through customs.
A few tears from me when I couldn't figure out how to get to the hotel(see below)


Good news, bad news

There is a hotel room available--but it costs $200
There is a shuttle to the hotel--but it runs only every one to two hours
You can wait for the shuttle--but outside where it is 10 degrees
You can just get a taxi--but the line to the taxi is an hour long, and it is--outside
There is a 9am shuttle to get back to the airport--my room clock is off and we miss it as it pulls out before 9
They call it back--it is full
They can have their maintenance man drive another van--can't find him
I could go on, but you get the idea...

It was truly terrible, but God is good. That sums up a lot, doesn't it?

From Fort Wayne, Indiana