Sweet Visitors

This morning was rough. "I don't know how I can go on homeschooling" kind of rough. "I'm never eating breakfast or lunch in the dining hall again" kind of rough. And then God breathed fresh air into me.

It's a Monday, and instead of Selah sleeping til 5, she woke me up to nurse her at 4. Then Miriam, instead of sleeping til 8, awoke closer to 7. And before I'd even gotten my coffee at breakfast, the potty-training 2-year-old had wet her pants.

We'd been having great success with potty-training these past 2 weeks, so when my sweet 2-year-old went through 6 pairs of panties just this one morning, I was taken aback and not quite prepared for the level of attention she needed. It's not so much that I can't handle wet pants after wet pants, or puddles of pee, or stinky soiled panties. It's more that my newborn is also very needy, not sleeping unless I'm nursing her or a sibling has walked her and continues to hold her. So every time my toddler needed me, I had to hand off the baby before I could address the potty issues. This meant Selah's "naps" were constantly interrupted and she wasn't terribly happy about that.

Meanwhile my big kids were trying to get back to full school days after our Christmas break, and they needed attention. They had questions to ask and discoveries to share, and I hadn't even figured out everything I expect of them this week. I was feeling like I just can't handle all that's on my plate. And then my husband got home from an important errand with a result that was very frustrating. We'd somehow (for the millionth time) seemed to misunderstand each other as to what was supposed to happen on that errand, and his news upon coming home pushed me right to the edge.

Getting the baby and the toddler out of the house to go to the dining hall for lunch was the final straw. The bare-legged toddler didn't want to put her pants back on to leave the house, and I had my hands full of baby so couldn't attend to her like I wanted. The big kids were struggling with her. We managed to eventually convince her, but as I angrily stomped out of our apartment, into the bracing cold, I thought, "I am never doing this again! Why should I have to go somewhere else for breakfast and lunch when it's so hard to get everyone out of the house and meals take so much longer?" Walking into the dining hall and seeing big tables filling up quickly and my big kids standing around with plates full of food anxiously awaiting my cue as to where we were going to sit just pushed me over the edge.

I saw one person I knew I'd enjoy eating with, a visitor I just met last week, and reserved 2 seats next to her, one for Miriam and one for me. The rest of my kids had to go sit somewhere else because the table quickly filled, mostly with people visiting Tantur for a 2-week course. Thankfully another visitor I enjoy sat next to me as well, this one the mother of one of our staff and the traveling buddy of the other. Because both ladies are sweet and sensitive, I felt I could be honest when they asked how I was doing and I even started crying. One of them had also homeschooled and been married to a PhD student while parenting four kids (and she's named Miriam!) so seemed especially empathetic. I appreciated her concern and willingness to pray for me. The other visitor is particularly good at conversation and had me laughing before the end of lunch, a much-needed relief. Also, both of these ladies -- not today, but almost every other day they've been here -- have held Selah at meals, which has both helped me and encouraged me.

It's still a tough day, but now I feel strengthened for the tasks. I've been heard. I've been touched, if ever so briefly on the shoulder. I've been looked in the eye by others who have walked this road too. I've heard them cheer on my toddler, even as she eats messily, and sweetly say goodbye to her when lunch is over. I wish these two could stay. I'm thankful for their time here.

Blessing in Disguise

Knock knock. We heard a gentle tap on our door at 10 PM yesterday and opened the door to see our neighbor. She was hoping we could maybe watch her 2-year-old all day today so that she could go on a day trip with her friends visiting from the US. We said, "Sure!" Despite the extra work it would mean, and despite having prior plans, I knew we'd also enjoy having Miriam's buddy join in our Friday fun.

My goal was to use the Israeli buses to find a recommended park 30 minutes away called Gazelle Valley. I'd looked up information about it and had mapped it out on Google Maps. I'd noted how many hard right turns the bus would make and at what bus stop we should exit (by counting after the turns). The big kids and I packed a backpack that included spare clothes for the two potty-training 2-year-olds and Selah, loaded up my neighbor's deluxe double stroller we were borrowing, and the seven of us set out.

It was a beautiful sunny winter day and I was thrilled to get out of the house. I looked forward to seeing a new place and exploring a haven of nature in the middle of the city. Alas, I made mistakes and we did not make it to our intended destination. BUT! We did find an amazing playground. It was tall and expansive. It had multiple tunnel slides that provided extra challenges for my boys who love climbing, and smaller slides and ladders that were just right for the 2-year-olds. I've had lots of experience with playgrounds and have never found one quite as good as this one for entertaining such an age spectrum. The big kids walked up the outsides of slides, hung on the outsides of barred platforms, and sat "chilling" on tunnels. Miriam and her pal ran, climbed, squealed, and slid. They experimented with swinging and teeter-tottering, and Miriam conquered her fear of tunnels, crawling through them with ease by the end.

We played for close to an hour and made it back to the bus stop just in time to catch a return bus within the 90 minute time frame that allowed us to not pay again. It was a different bus number than we'd used to get there, and we only had 2 minutes to spare, but we made it home successfully and with each toddler only having cried once -- and no potty accidents! My big kids asked if I was frustrated that we hadn't made it to Gazelle Valley. "Nope!" I could truthfully answer. I know we'll make it there someday. But today, our mistake ended up being a blessing in disguise.

Hands are Full

Ethan's recently re-discovered this blog of mine, and has gone back to the beginning days to start reading. It just so happens that my first blog posts were written during the first months of Ethan's life. I've only glanced through a few, but it's fun to see what I recorded about life with 2 preschoolers and an infant. There were many sweet moments, though difficult ones as well, and they'd be lost if I hadn't written them down.

Twelve years later, here I am again, with a preschooler and a baby, and there are so many things I want to record to remember later about our current ups and downs, and these fleeting precious days. But I find it hard to even have two hands to type on a computer, for Selah requires nursing and being held almost constantly. And when I have time without her in my arms, I'm almost always either helping Miriam in some way or trying to keep up with the house and homeschooling. Or I'm in bed -- reading!!

I'd like to make more of a habit, though, of chronicling these days. I was inspired by an article (that I skim-read quite briefly) that encouraged people to create 'rituals' in order to begin and keep new habits -- setting aside a concrete amount of time that will be held as a priority, whether one likes it or not, for a prescribed purpose. I thought of writing as something I'd like to begin to do daily, even just for a 10-minute time period, and exercise is another ritual I need to get back to.

For today's memory that I'd love to treasure always: there is a priest here on sabbatical named David and he's eaten quite a few breakfasts in the dining hall with us recently. He's always sweet to Miriam and enjoys talking to Selah as well. He admitted a few days ago that, while he likes children, he doesn't feel capable of caring for them or holding them. This morning, however, when I asked who could hold Selah while I got my coffee, he volunteered! And then he held her for about 10 minutes, during which time, she was content and cuddly. Seeing him enjoy her sweet baby self brought joy to my heart, and I want to treasure that memory. Hopefully it won't be his last time holding her...

Broken Dreams

I used to think this would be the best year of my life. I was tired of the individualism of American living and the isolation of suburbs. I'd heard I was coming to a place of community and I looked so forward to sharing ups and downs with other Christians here. I anticipated meals together and worship together, praying for each other and many joys.

Instead, I've wept more tears than I can ever remember shedding in a 3-month time span.

This is no community.

This is a place where my heart gets broken on a regular basis; where my baby does not get held; where my family gets ignored at every single meal while others eat together, even Christmas dinner; where others worship or do fun outings together and leave us out. This is a place where no one visited me in the hospital, even though I was completely alone and surrounded by non-English speakers. This is a place where I can cry and no one cares; where I can call out for help and the only one who answers is an ocean away; where the only people who pray with or for me are tourists I meet in passing.

This is one of the loneliest places on the planet.

When I'm Gone...

How can I have birthed five such amazing children? I look at each of you and am filled with wonder. You are beautiful people, inside and out. And I also look at you and weep for how much I've hurt you and been a poor example for you. So when I'm gone please know that...

I loved you so much it hurts;

I'm sorry I struggled to find joy;

I wish I'd given you more opportunities;

Everyday I questioned myself, as a mom and as a person. I hope it's different for you;

Doubt is hard;

I'm sorry I couldn't seem to model good relationships for you. I sucked at marriage and wasn't much better at friendship;

I wish my ears hadn't been so sensitive. Sorry I complained so much about noise, and couldn't often have music going;

I didn't encourage you nearly enough. I'll forever regret that I didn't affirm you more;

As much as I struggled with life and joy, I was ever so grateful to be your mom. You are treasures beyond measure.

The Pros and Cons of a Newborn: a Guest Post by Naomi

We love Selah -- we really do! But it's true: having a newborn is not "easy" at all. There are plenty of challenges that come with caring for a helpless little life, and I've experienced many mixed feelings on the subject. I'd like to share some of them with you here.

Cons:

1. Newborns require time. I used to have hours of my evening to read, journal, and write on my blog. Now I mostly spend them rocking Selah to sleep for Mom.
2. Newborns require effort. To keep her happy, I usually have to do some vigorous dancing before she calms down enough for me to sway.
3. Newborns bring a change in dynamics. Mom suddenly becomes busier, the two-year-old wonders why she can't be held, and the teenagers want school help from Mom but she's in the middle of a nap.

Pros:

1. Newborns are cuddly and warm. As the winter months draw closer, I know that I will be grateful for the natural 'hot water bottle' that Mom delivered ;-)
2. Newborns provide hours of entertainment with the faces they make. Who needs TV when they can be watching a cute baby?!
3. Newborns make you practice selflessness and tenderheartedness. You can't function without these qualities when you have a baby who completely depends on you. I'm convinced that's why newborns are so cute!
4. Newborns grow up to be people you couldn't imagine life without. I've already tried to think back to life without Miriam -- and failed.

So there you go: my pros and cons of newborn-hood. I'm sure there are more that I've missed, and perhaps my viewpoint will change over time. But for now those are my opinions on this fleeting time in Selah's life.

My last words are enjoy the newborn stage while you can. It doesn't last as long as you think it does, and while the cons may seem to outweigh the pros, they don't in the long run.

Going to Church

Going to church means leaving Tantur's buildings between 8 and 8:15, and heading down the long hill, past olive trees, towards the front gate.

Once outside the gate, we walk 5 minutes, cross a major road, and wait at a bus stop for either one of two Palestinian buses. It's cute to see Miriam copy what her big sibs do.

The 6 of us ride a bus to Jaffa Gate. This bus is the type that's like a tour bus. Our umbrella stroller goes in a compartment below the bus.

We walk from the bus stop towards Jaffa Gate in the Old City.

Once inside Jaffa Gate, we head toward the narrow alley-like rows of shops ahead. The roads are cobblestone, so Josiah pushes the stroller on a narrow path of smoother border stones.

It's amazing how narrow the 'roads' are in this section of the Old City, how diverse the wares are, and how many people crowd through later in the morning.

I love the bougainvillea trees all through Jerusalem.

A few minutes after 9, we arrive at Church of the Redeemer, a Lutheran church built in the late 19th C. The smaller chapel is where the English-speaking congregation meets.

We discover that quite a few tourist groups are visiting, making the small chapel overflow with people. Instead of squeezing inside the hot room, we choose to sit on stools in the breezeway outside the chapel's windows. It's harder to hear this way, but we still sing and pray, and do our best to follow the sermon. 

We'd discovered a bag of snacks (pita bread and halva) left behind by someone on the bus, and sitting outside for church meant that Miriam could eat and move as much as she needed. We could also walk and dance Selah around when she fussed.

After the service, we enjoy drinking Arabic coffee, listening to church bells, and receiving congratulations from people on Selah's birth. The garden courtyard you can see through this opening is actually a story below us. 

I love these kids! And I love the beautiful architecture and the coolness of this breezeway where we worshiped.

The other side of the courtyard from where we are, and the part of the church where the German-, Danish-, and Arabic-speaking congregations worship.

Selah Marie is 10 days old on her first day at church.

Heading back home, we retrace our steps through the narrow paths of the Old City. This is a shop that sells fresh fruit juice.

It's busier now that it's a couple hours later!

From the Old City, we walk downhill a bit to get to our bus stop.

From our bus stop, we see this park down in a valley below us so we decide to explore a little. (This is looking back up the hill, with the city walls at the top.)

  

There's a 'creek' running through the center of the park -- a delight for children and adults alike! 

Our Palestinian bus home is what you'd imagine a city bus to be like.

We have to specify that we're getting off at Tantur because this bus will take people all the way through the checkpoint but it costs more. We pay our 4.70 NIS each to get off at the last stop before Bethlehem.

The hardest part of going anywhere off-campus is the hill we have to walk back UP to get home once we're inside Tantur's gate. At this point Miriam wants to be carried so Naomi takes Selah and I carry the toddler. It's still easier than walking pregnant!

Once we walk through the impressive entryway, we just cross a garden, enter Tantur's main building, head down a level and then to our own apartment. It's only a few minutes from this spot. I'm so thankful for the chance to go to church!