Saturday, January 28, 2012
Good thing.....
....I'm mostly just hanging out at home these days, because it seems even my maternity tops are no longer big enough to keep this belly covered!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Ready or not....
Just as my stomach is changing by the hour, so are my feelings of readiness on becoming a new mother. Except my stomach is always expanding in the same direction, but my feelings are expanding and contracting here, there and everywhere.
On the whole, I'm feeling much more settled, calm and ready in the past week. I've finally tied up a lot of loose ends at work so I feel like I can actually step away for a little bit. The big things are physically set for the arrival of the baby - bed is in place, clothes and diapers are washed and folded, his bags are packed (even if ours are not ready yet). I've read and reflected a lot about the physical and emotional process of birth, both the scientific and the huge variety of personal stories women have experienced. Similarly, I've got a general idea of what needs to be done to take care of newborn both physically and emotionally. And yet of course, I fully recognize that with giving birth and caring for a newborn, there's only so much you can prepare ahead of time - the rest will be taken care of by instinct and by handling situations as they come up, because there's no way to prepare for every possible possibility....and of course in understanding that, the settled, calm and ready feelings are that much deeper. I've done what can be done and now it's time to let it be.
I had a similar experience as a student teacher on the brink of graduation, questioning whether I felt ready or not to teach my own class. I dug up my reflective journal this morning, and found that most of the sentiments I documented at that transitional moment in my life apply all over again.
"I've been really thinking about what it means to be ready to be a teacher in your own classroom. In so many ways I feel ready to go. I feel like I have a much better understanding of my philosophy of classroom management which was the last thing I was really worried about - not that I have everything polished with my classroom management but knowing my philosophy and what I feel good about helps! So in general, I feel good about the thought of having my own classroom. But then I'll start reading a book - about guided reading or classroom management - and feel like I knew nothing before I started reading that book and I was never really ready. So here's my conclusion - I'll never be 100% ready - there will never be a point when I know everything I will need to know to be a teacher. My cooperating teacher is still taking classes and improving her teaching. So that makes me feel pretty much ready again!
Then I was thinking about the students I will have and how lucky the students at the end of my career will be because I will know so much more about teaching by then and I worry about the first few groups I will have because they'll be struggling right along with me in the beginning. But actually, they'll be learning with me - and even though their experience will be very different than children later in my career, each experience will be good in a different way. These thoughts seem pretty obvious and in a way I've always had those thoughts, but I've become very conscious of them in the last weeks."
And so I feel about stepping into motherhood. Ready and unready all at once. But that's really what life is about then, isn't it? There's only so much you can do to prepare, and then the rest happens while living it.
After ten years of teaching, I still feel much the same way as I did on the day I wrote this journal entry. I am still absolutely learning as I go. Some days are brilliant, lessons are great and I can clearly see the progress I've made in my own teaching. Other days, it feels like I'm back at square one, could spend a hundred more years in studies and still not get it right. Like all learning in school and in life, it's a journey. One of the courses I am now taking has introduced the idea of a "fixed" mindset versus a "growth" mindset. As long as we recognize that it is all about growth (and the never actually getting there!) and are always challenging ourselves to take the next steps forward, we are moving in the right direction.
I appreciated re-reading my university supervisor's response to this particular journal entry: "In your comments about being 'ready' for teaching, and then feeling unsure, I sensed some nerves about how your life is soon going to change, along with some well-deserved confidence about your successes thus far. I agree with you; you're never fully ready, and -- if you can remember that -- in a strange way you're always ready. I'm not sure where you're going to end up as a teacher. But as your own confidence rises and dips, you might as well hear some praise: You think like a seasoned educator. Your insights about teaching and your healthy connection to your inner self are quite remarkable. They are also assets that will make your teaching immeasurably valuable to the lives of young children - whoever they end up being.
Over the course of the semester, I have been greatly impressed with your talent and commitment to teaching. Perhaps most of all, however, I have been impressed by your demonstrated convictions. You believe in the children you teach. You believe that they have something to teach you. I know I send a lot of praise your way, but I hope you don't get too used to it. It's not for you. It's for the children you will teach. Teaching is hard work, and those kids need someone like you in their corner. So remember all this praise you received and deserved, and climb over whatever obstacles you will face."
I hope the same will translate from teaching into parenting. As I make this transition into parenting, I know it will be hard and heart-breaking and ultimately the most rewarding work I will ever do. I'm looking forward to growing in parenting much as I have and will continue to do in teaching. Much as I was excited to find out who my first "clients" in teaching would be, I can't wait to meet this little boy who has signed up for the journey of a lifetime with us. We will never be 100% ready, we will never be perfect or "finished" with our learning and growing together. And that's exactly as it should be.
Ready or not.... :)
On the whole, I'm feeling much more settled, calm and ready in the past week. I've finally tied up a lot of loose ends at work so I feel like I can actually step away for a little bit. The big things are physically set for the arrival of the baby - bed is in place, clothes and diapers are washed and folded, his bags are packed (even if ours are not ready yet). I've read and reflected a lot about the physical and emotional process of birth, both the scientific and the huge variety of personal stories women have experienced. Similarly, I've got a general idea of what needs to be done to take care of newborn both physically and emotionally. And yet of course, I fully recognize that with giving birth and caring for a newborn, there's only so much you can prepare ahead of time - the rest will be taken care of by instinct and by handling situations as they come up, because there's no way to prepare for every possible possibility....and of course in understanding that, the settled, calm and ready feelings are that much deeper. I've done what can be done and now it's time to let it be.
I had a similar experience as a student teacher on the brink of graduation, questioning whether I felt ready or not to teach my own class. I dug up my reflective journal this morning, and found that most of the sentiments I documented at that transitional moment in my life apply all over again.
"I've been really thinking about what it means to be ready to be a teacher in your own classroom. In so many ways I feel ready to go. I feel like I have a much better understanding of my philosophy of classroom management which was the last thing I was really worried about - not that I have everything polished with my classroom management but knowing my philosophy and what I feel good about helps! So in general, I feel good about the thought of having my own classroom. But then I'll start reading a book - about guided reading or classroom management - and feel like I knew nothing before I started reading that book and I was never really ready. So here's my conclusion - I'll never be 100% ready - there will never be a point when I know everything I will need to know to be a teacher. My cooperating teacher is still taking classes and improving her teaching. So that makes me feel pretty much ready again!
Then I was thinking about the students I will have and how lucky the students at the end of my career will be because I will know so much more about teaching by then and I worry about the first few groups I will have because they'll be struggling right along with me in the beginning. But actually, they'll be learning with me - and even though their experience will be very different than children later in my career, each experience will be good in a different way. These thoughts seem pretty obvious and in a way I've always had those thoughts, but I've become very conscious of them in the last weeks."
And so I feel about stepping into motherhood. Ready and unready all at once. But that's really what life is about then, isn't it? There's only so much you can do to prepare, and then the rest happens while living it.
After ten years of teaching, I still feel much the same way as I did on the day I wrote this journal entry. I am still absolutely learning as I go. Some days are brilliant, lessons are great and I can clearly see the progress I've made in my own teaching. Other days, it feels like I'm back at square one, could spend a hundred more years in studies and still not get it right. Like all learning in school and in life, it's a journey. One of the courses I am now taking has introduced the idea of a "fixed" mindset versus a "growth" mindset. As long as we recognize that it is all about growth (and the never actually getting there!) and are always challenging ourselves to take the next steps forward, we are moving in the right direction.
I appreciated re-reading my university supervisor's response to this particular journal entry: "In your comments about being 'ready' for teaching, and then feeling unsure, I sensed some nerves about how your life is soon going to change, along with some well-deserved confidence about your successes thus far. I agree with you; you're never fully ready, and -- if you can remember that -- in a strange way you're always ready. I'm not sure where you're going to end up as a teacher. But as your own confidence rises and dips, you might as well hear some praise: You think like a seasoned educator. Your insights about teaching and your healthy connection to your inner self are quite remarkable. They are also assets that will make your teaching immeasurably valuable to the lives of young children - whoever they end up being.
Over the course of the semester, I have been greatly impressed with your talent and commitment to teaching. Perhaps most of all, however, I have been impressed by your demonstrated convictions. You believe in the children you teach. You believe that they have something to teach you. I know I send a lot of praise your way, but I hope you don't get too used to it. It's not for you. It's for the children you will teach. Teaching is hard work, and those kids need someone like you in their corner. So remember all this praise you received and deserved, and climb over whatever obstacles you will face."
I hope the same will translate from teaching into parenting. As I make this transition into parenting, I know it will be hard and heart-breaking and ultimately the most rewarding work I will ever do. I'm looking forward to growing in parenting much as I have and will continue to do in teaching. Much as I was excited to find out who my first "clients" in teaching would be, I can't wait to meet this little boy who has signed up for the journey of a lifetime with us. We will never be 100% ready, we will never be perfect or "finished" with our learning and growing together. And that's exactly as it should be.
Ready or not.... :)
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Growing by the hour....
At our last visit, the midwife said, "From here on out, you will be growing not by days, but by hours." How true! One to five weeks of growth left, and I just can't imagine how that is physically possible.... Technically, he could decide to arrive today because from here on out he is considered full-term. We still have two classes left for parents-to-be, finishing next Monday, so we asked him to at least wait that long so that we'll have a better idea of what we are doing. ;)
We are beyond excited, but doing our best to be patient. And we are not the only ones who are excited - a couple of weeks ago we visited friends and were gifted this artwork of our family. :) Children are so perceptive (whether they know it or not!). KB's favorite element of the drawing is that he is red, I am blue and the little boy is exactly half red and half blue. Brilliant!
We are beyond excited, but doing our best to be patient. And we are not the only ones who are excited - a couple of weeks ago we visited friends and were gifted this artwork of our family. :) Children are so perceptive (whether they know it or not!). KB's favorite element of the drawing is that he is red, I am blue and the little boy is exactly half red and half blue. Brilliant!
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Love in every stitch
This is the story of three blankets filled with a ridiculous amount of love, patiently awaiting the arrival a little boy.
The first blanket was a project started by his mom nearly two years ago. It was a project specifically designed to pour all the love for this little person that had yet to be created into one place. The project came along quickly at first, then was on hold for a pretty long time as she was grumpy that things were not happening on her timeline, and finally got finished at Christmas time this year in a whirlwind of energy as his arrival grew closer (and she has to admit, his timing is perfect, even if she wasn't patient enough to see that for a while).
This will be his outside blanket to keep him snuggly in the stroller or carseat - it's two layers of fleece so it should do the trick even in a Latvian winter (which finally arrived in the form of a white blanket of snow today in Mezaparks).
Here is a close-up of the stitching, a Latvian sun cross-stitch pattern designed by the little boy's great-grandmother. A mother's welcome-to-the-world present for the little boy...
The second blanket is a project made by two people - the little boy's grandmother and great-grandfather. It's a nice thick quilt with sunflowers in the material (my favorites). It will keep the little boy cozy as he explores his world, learns to roll over, sit up, go for some toys at the edge of the quilt and begin crawling...
If you look carefully at the next photo, you'll see there are tan bits of yarn that have been tied up, holding together the layers of the quilt. These were carefully tied together by the little boy's great-grandfather who is 97 years old and spends some of his time in the nursing home helping his daughter (the boy's grandmother) work on craft projects. What a moment that will be when the little boy learns to use his fingers to start untying all the little knots his great-grandfather so carefully tied... :)
The third quilt involves the most stitches and love from the most people. It was part of a round-robin quilt project completed by six women in the little boy's family. That means each woman added the next section of the quilt (not planned ahead of time - you get what the others have worked on and let your creativity flow to design the next bit) until the quilt was complete. Since the boy's mom is not a quilter and lives halfway around the world from the other women, it was a real honor to be included in this project. Her role was to dye some linen fabric from Latvia for each quilt and to sew a little cross-stitch design for each quilt (from an archive of Latvian designs created by the little boy's great-grandmother). In any case, the amount of love, creativity and family tradition in this blanket is incredible.
The little boy's parents are convinced he was waiting for the arrival of this quilt in Latvia before officially signing up for his journey here on earth. His aunt hand-delivered the blanket last spring and just a couple of short weeks later, as a true surprise, here he was. This blanket will hang in his room (our room) on the wall, reminding him and all of us that he is a ray of sunshine in this house. The photo does not do this blanket justice, it is warm and beautiful and somehow truly radiates the love from every stitch.
A close-up of the Latvian sun cross-stitch design in the center.
All of these blankets contain an element of the sun theme - warmth, energy, brightness and love. Such a fitting way to welcome a little boy to the world.
The first blanket was a project started by his mom nearly two years ago. It was a project specifically designed to pour all the love for this little person that had yet to be created into one place. The project came along quickly at first, then was on hold for a pretty long time as she was grumpy that things were not happening on her timeline, and finally got finished at Christmas time this year in a whirlwind of energy as his arrival grew closer (and she has to admit, his timing is perfect, even if she wasn't patient enough to see that for a while).
This will be his outside blanket to keep him snuggly in the stroller or carseat - it's two layers of fleece so it should do the trick even in a Latvian winter (which finally arrived in the form of a white blanket of snow today in Mezaparks).
Here is a close-up of the stitching, a Latvian sun cross-stitch pattern designed by the little boy's great-grandmother. A mother's welcome-to-the-world present for the little boy...
The second blanket is a project made by two people - the little boy's grandmother and great-grandfather. It's a nice thick quilt with sunflowers in the material (my favorites). It will keep the little boy cozy as he explores his world, learns to roll over, sit up, go for some toys at the edge of the quilt and begin crawling...
If you look carefully at the next photo, you'll see there are tan bits of yarn that have been tied up, holding together the layers of the quilt. These were carefully tied together by the little boy's great-grandfather who is 97 years old and spends some of his time in the nursing home helping his daughter (the boy's grandmother) work on craft projects. What a moment that will be when the little boy learns to use his fingers to start untying all the little knots his great-grandfather so carefully tied... :)
The third quilt involves the most stitches and love from the most people. It was part of a round-robin quilt project completed by six women in the little boy's family. That means each woman added the next section of the quilt (not planned ahead of time - you get what the others have worked on and let your creativity flow to design the next bit) until the quilt was complete. Since the boy's mom is not a quilter and lives halfway around the world from the other women, it was a real honor to be included in this project. Her role was to dye some linen fabric from Latvia for each quilt and to sew a little cross-stitch design for each quilt (from an archive of Latvian designs created by the little boy's great-grandmother). In any case, the amount of love, creativity and family tradition in this blanket is incredible.
The little boy's parents are convinced he was waiting for the arrival of this quilt in Latvia before officially signing up for his journey here on earth. His aunt hand-delivered the blanket last spring and just a couple of short weeks later, as a true surprise, here he was. This blanket will hang in his room (our room) on the wall, reminding him and all of us that he is a ray of sunshine in this house. The photo does not do this blanket justice, it is warm and beautiful and somehow truly radiates the love from every stitch.
A close-up of the Latvian sun cross-stitch design in the center.
All of these blankets contain an element of the sun theme - warmth, energy, brightness and love. Such a fitting way to welcome a little boy to the world.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Dreams and "Difficultness"
I can't remember now if I've written about it on the blog before, but in the last years I've realized that my dreams serve a definite purpose quite often in that they allow me to experience things that I feel are missing in "real" life. Often this has included me being on the beach and truly experiencing a few hours of real sunlight in the dead of winter or spending quality time with people I am missing. I can still vividly remember a dream in which I sat and ate a pint of Ben and Jerry's and could distinctly taste every lovely bite of it. I wake up in the mornings feeling satisfied after such dreams.
In the past few weeks, I've had nearly nightly dreams about our baby being here. The first ones had some elements of anxiety to them - for nights in a row I dreamt that all of a sudden I looked down, wasn't pregnant anymore (clearly had somehow given birth but hadn't actually been present for it) and realized I had a baby to feed and care for. Now that I seem to have gotten that out of my system, the anxiety element (for now) is gone. Or it appears in silly ways - the other night I dreamt that his head came out deformed after the birth as sometimes happens but it was shaped like a butternut squash (which has definitely been a favorite food in the last months and that day I had happened to find a butternut squash in an eco store which I was so excitedly planning to eat the next day), but in the dream we were just looking back on the pictures of the butternut head because he was already a bit bigger with a nice round head and I was snuggling him and all was good.
The dreams have now clearly taken on the purpose of just giving me that which my mind seems to need, but can't have yet. Nearly nightly, I dream of this little guy being here with us, we are snuggling him, talking to him, taking care of him and generally being good parents. It is lovely to be able to feel it, experience it and prepare for it. This is the good motivation that will help me do what needs to be done in order for him to be born in a few short weeks - in contrast to what we could call the rising "difficultness" which will also serve it's role in motivating.
Pregnancy in Latvian is called grutnieciba, literally translated as "difficultness". At my last visit with the midwife, she warned me that these are the weeks that they talk about when they mean "difficultness" (though I could also argue that the first weeks of feeling hungover 24 hours a day and not being able to each much of anything because every last smell was huge and disgusting were no walk in the park). In any case, I appreciate her way of thinking - this is how nature helps to prepare us for giving birth. Pregnancy will get increasingly more uncomfortable and difficult with everyday to give me true motivation in order for the baby to be born. So now, when I wake up with my hands swollen and barely able to move my fingers, or am dealing with heartburn and ridiculously frequent bathroom visits at night, or just have to move at turtle-speed slowly but surely to get anything done so I don't topple over, I smile, thank nature for doing its bit to help get me ready, and file the moment away in my memory (or ask KB to remind me when I'll need it) to use as motivation when the time comes.
And the dreams...I appreciate those even more because they are a friendly kind of motivation. Every night he looks a little bit different - last night he had a very thick black head of hair, sometimes he is a bald Buddha baby, always with very wise and sweet button eyes looking out to take in the world. It will be interesting to see which of those babies is actually ours. Hopefully not the butternut squash.... ;)
In the past few weeks, I've had nearly nightly dreams about our baby being here. The first ones had some elements of anxiety to them - for nights in a row I dreamt that all of a sudden I looked down, wasn't pregnant anymore (clearly had somehow given birth but hadn't actually been present for it) and realized I had a baby to feed and care for. Now that I seem to have gotten that out of my system, the anxiety element (for now) is gone. Or it appears in silly ways - the other night I dreamt that his head came out deformed after the birth as sometimes happens but it was shaped like a butternut squash (which has definitely been a favorite food in the last months and that day I had happened to find a butternut squash in an eco store which I was so excitedly planning to eat the next day), but in the dream we were just looking back on the pictures of the butternut head because he was already a bit bigger with a nice round head and I was snuggling him and all was good.
The dreams have now clearly taken on the purpose of just giving me that which my mind seems to need, but can't have yet. Nearly nightly, I dream of this little guy being here with us, we are snuggling him, talking to him, taking care of him and generally being good parents. It is lovely to be able to feel it, experience it and prepare for it. This is the good motivation that will help me do what needs to be done in order for him to be born in a few short weeks - in contrast to what we could call the rising "difficultness" which will also serve it's role in motivating.
Pregnancy in Latvian is called grutnieciba, literally translated as "difficultness". At my last visit with the midwife, she warned me that these are the weeks that they talk about when they mean "difficultness" (though I could also argue that the first weeks of feeling hungover 24 hours a day and not being able to each much of anything because every last smell was huge and disgusting were no walk in the park). In any case, I appreciate her way of thinking - this is how nature helps to prepare us for giving birth. Pregnancy will get increasingly more uncomfortable and difficult with everyday to give me true motivation in order for the baby to be born. So now, when I wake up with my hands swollen and barely able to move my fingers, or am dealing with heartburn and ridiculously frequent bathroom visits at night, or just have to move at turtle-speed slowly but surely to get anything done so I don't topple over, I smile, thank nature for doing its bit to help get me ready, and file the moment away in my memory (or ask KB to remind me when I'll need it) to use as motivation when the time comes.
And the dreams...I appreciate those even more because they are a friendly kind of motivation. Every night he looks a little bit different - last night he had a very thick black head of hair, sometimes he is a bald Buddha baby, always with very wise and sweet button eyes looking out to take in the world. It will be interesting to see which of those babies is actually ours. Hopefully not the butternut squash.... ;)
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Work that comes from the heart
Last night on welcoming in the New Year, KB and I reflected a fair bit on the last year, which was definitely an uphill year for us in so many ways. This year he has experienced what it means to have your work/job come from the heart. It is a night and day difference to get up each morning when you are doing what you love and loving what you do.
I have always felt lucky that I had figured out what I loved so early in life and have been able to do it - even if I had to step away from it for a while to realize that teaching is absolutely in my heart.
Last night, I received a New Year's Eve email from the parent of a child who was in our 3x3 family camp morning group this summer. (KB and I co-taught the 3-6 year olds - 28 of them! - for one week in July, which was such a wonderful experience for us to do together.) The email included pictures of flowers that we had planted together and a big thanks again from the family and from the little boy in particular, who insisted upon taking pictures to send us. The mom thanked us again for the work we did as teachers, which inspires children and help them grow - seen both literally and figuratively through the growth of the flowers we planted together.
One of the infinite reasons I love the work I do....and it's incredible to receive such reminders, particularly when it's a connection with a child that was created within just a short seven days, which left a lasting footprint.
Hoping that 2012 finds you all doing what you love and loving what you do. :)
I have always felt lucky that I had figured out what I loved so early in life and have been able to do it - even if I had to step away from it for a while to realize that teaching is absolutely in my heart.
Last night, I received a New Year's Eve email from the parent of a child who was in our 3x3 family camp morning group this summer. (KB and I co-taught the 3-6 year olds - 28 of them! - for one week in July, which was such a wonderful experience for us to do together.) The email included pictures of flowers that we had planted together and a big thanks again from the family and from the little boy in particular, who insisted upon taking pictures to send us. The mom thanked us again for the work we did as teachers, which inspires children and help them grow - seen both literally and figuratively through the growth of the flowers we planted together.
One of the infinite reasons I love the work I do....and it's incredible to receive such reminders, particularly when it's a connection with a child that was created within just a short seven days, which left a lasting footprint.
Hoping that 2012 finds you all doing what you love and loving what you do. :)
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Priecigus Svetkus!
Ber, Laimite, sudrabinu
Ziemassvetku vakara,
Lai mirdzeja visas takas
Jaunaja gadina!
All the very best wishes to our family and friends in 2012. May the new year bring showers of sunshine and love, just enough rain to help us grow, and above all plenty of those magical moments of stopping to take it all, leaving you with nothing but a smile!
Thursday, December 22, 2011
70 days
One of the great benefits to starting a family in Latvia is the maternity leave. It starts 70 days before your due date and continues for up to a year after the birth. For the record, I got to choose my own due date (within a certain range) as was most convenient for my work schedule - I chose February 8 meaning I've technically been on maternity leave since December 1.
The first weeks went by in a flash - lots of midwife and doctors visits and a few trips to government offices to get the maternity leave squared away. (Luckily, since sunrise isn't until nearly 9am in December, I showed up at the offices when they opened at 8.30 and was able to avoid the lines.) Plus I actually spent a fair amount of time at school still in December wrapping things up, and will still be in to finish up a few things in January.
And of course I could not just allow myself to relax during this time - I am on three graduate level online courses (two of which I'm aiming to start and finish in the month of January before we become a family of three). I figured I sure won't have extra time on my hands after February, so might as well take advantage of these 70 days I got. At the rate we're going though, I feel like I could blink one more time and February will be upon us!
Lots of my time is filled with reading - preparing myself for birth and parenting, reading texts for coursework, and also just for fun. Mims the Wondercat has taken this as a time to start getting to know the baby. She kneads my stomach for a while, then lays down and he kicks and pokes her for a while, then she kneads him again, and so we go on.... It's a pretty cozy way to spend this season of hibernation if I do say so myself. :)
The first weeks went by in a flash - lots of midwife and doctors visits and a few trips to government offices to get the maternity leave squared away. (Luckily, since sunrise isn't until nearly 9am in December, I showed up at the offices when they opened at 8.30 and was able to avoid the lines.) Plus I actually spent a fair amount of time at school still in December wrapping things up, and will still be in to finish up a few things in January.
And of course I could not just allow myself to relax during this time - I am on three graduate level online courses (two of which I'm aiming to start and finish in the month of January before we become a family of three). I figured I sure won't have extra time on my hands after February, so might as well take advantage of these 70 days I got. At the rate we're going though, I feel like I could blink one more time and February will be upon us!
Lots of my time is filled with reading - preparing myself for birth and parenting, reading texts for coursework, and also just for fun. Mims the Wondercat has taken this as a time to start getting to know the baby. She kneads my stomach for a while, then lays down and he kicks and pokes her for a while, then she kneads him again, and so we go on.... It's a pretty cozy way to spend this season of hibernation if I do say so myself. :)
Monday, December 19, 2011
Through a child's eyes...
It's not that the last year and a half in Latvia hasn't been as deliciously sunny, as soak-you-to-your-bones rainy and as magically rainbow-y as the previous years. It's just that I didn't really care as much to experience it in the same way.
After the first years of excitement at every new experience, friendship and opportunity, realities started settling in. Dear friends who had become our local family moved away one or two at a time. The economic situation was a whole lot rainier than sunny for longer than was comfortable, and the repetition of one-step-forward, two-steps-back just wears on you after a while. And just as promptly as we were filled with excitement again at the biggest ray of sunshine we'd seen in a long time, that got rained out as well when 2010 started with a positive pregnancy test that ended with a miscarriage exactly on my Name's Day a short 8 weeks later. Not so much a downpour as storm that just plain knocks you off your feet.
Now that I am finally slowing down and taking some much needed time for reflection, I realize how I've stepped back from life in the last year and a half. It's not even that I've identified more with the rainy side of life during this time, it's just been more comfortable to spend lots of "me time" in the calm and relative safety of our home. Not sunny or rainy, it just "is".
Happily, this chapter of my life has wrapped itself up (and that's not said in regret, it was certainly a time that was needed and served its own purpose) and I'm ready to waddle back out into the highs and lows of life in Latvia - smile intact. :)
Why waddle?
In the next 5-9 weeks we'll be joined in our journey by a new little person - also already lovingly known as Mazais Saimnieks ("little farmer"), Little Drummer Boy, Pucite (little owl), Chupins (short for "chupins of cuteness" or "little pile of cuteness"), Mini Dude and "Mazins bet Mighty" (little but mighty). I'm quite sure I'm joining mothers around the world in saying this, but from my point of view, never before has another little human being been awaited with this much love and excitement. :)
I recently had a conversation with my own mom in which she was reflecting on how having children impacted her own life. She remembered actually having free time before us, but even now that we have been out of the house for years, she still hasn't been able to regain that sense of "me time" because something always needs to be done. I already put it down for the record with her, but now I am going public with that (and feel free to remind me of this at any point in the next X amount of years that I'm on earth) - I realize my life will never be just my own anymore and I am ready for this.
Surely there will be days that I'll be ready to give anything for five minutes to myself, but at this moment which I hope I'll always be able to remind myself of - I am ready for this little person to come into my life with all of his quirks and needs because with that comes all of his magic. If I haven't been so interested in getting out to see something new or even to do the same-old in the last while, I simply can't wait to do it all - new and old - with our little person because for him EVERYthing will be brand new and magical. There is so much to learn and experience and do in this life and to see it all through his eyes will be amazing. I've seen it with children I've worked with for years, and I'm thankful beyond words that this will be part of my daily experience. He will bring heaps of sunshine, undoubtedly plenty of rain, and above all brilliant rainbows into this home.
We're working hard to catch the Christmas spirit this year with the soupy gray weather just outside our window and sloppy ground that instantly absorbs any chance at brightness that the few attempts at snow have tried to bring. The thing that warms us every time is talking about how next year, our Mazais Saimnieks will be enjoying his first Christmas - probably already pulling himself up on furniture and cruising around as we hold his hands, wide eyes taking it all in.
How can that thought alone not make you look at the whole world with a smile again?
After the first years of excitement at every new experience, friendship and opportunity, realities started settling in. Dear friends who had become our local family moved away one or two at a time. The economic situation was a whole lot rainier than sunny for longer than was comfortable, and the repetition of one-step-forward, two-steps-back just wears on you after a while. And just as promptly as we were filled with excitement again at the biggest ray of sunshine we'd seen in a long time, that got rained out as well when 2010 started with a positive pregnancy test that ended with a miscarriage exactly on my Name's Day a short 8 weeks later. Not so much a downpour as storm that just plain knocks you off your feet.
Now that I am finally slowing down and taking some much needed time for reflection, I realize how I've stepped back from life in the last year and a half. It's not even that I've identified more with the rainy side of life during this time, it's just been more comfortable to spend lots of "me time" in the calm and relative safety of our home. Not sunny or rainy, it just "is".
Happily, this chapter of my life has wrapped itself up (and that's not said in regret, it was certainly a time that was needed and served its own purpose) and I'm ready to waddle back out into the highs and lows of life in Latvia - smile intact. :)
Why waddle?
In the next 5-9 weeks we'll be joined in our journey by a new little person - also already lovingly known as Mazais Saimnieks ("little farmer"), Little Drummer Boy, Pucite (little owl), Chupins (short for "chupins of cuteness" or "little pile of cuteness"), Mini Dude and "Mazins bet Mighty" (little but mighty). I'm quite sure I'm joining mothers around the world in saying this, but from my point of view, never before has another little human being been awaited with this much love and excitement. :)
I recently had a conversation with my own mom in which she was reflecting on how having children impacted her own life. She remembered actually having free time before us, but even now that we have been out of the house for years, she still hasn't been able to regain that sense of "me time" because something always needs to be done. I already put it down for the record with her, but now I am going public with that (and feel free to remind me of this at any point in the next X amount of years that I'm on earth) - I realize my life will never be just my own anymore and I am ready for this.
Surely there will be days that I'll be ready to give anything for five minutes to myself, but at this moment which I hope I'll always be able to remind myself of - I am ready for this little person to come into my life with all of his quirks and needs because with that comes all of his magic. If I haven't been so interested in getting out to see something new or even to do the same-old in the last while, I simply can't wait to do it all - new and old - with our little person because for him EVERYthing will be brand new and magical. There is so much to learn and experience and do in this life and to see it all through his eyes will be amazing. I've seen it with children I've worked with for years, and I'm thankful beyond words that this will be part of my daily experience. He will bring heaps of sunshine, undoubtedly plenty of rain, and above all brilliant rainbows into this home.
We're working hard to catch the Christmas spirit this year with the soupy gray weather just outside our window and sloppy ground that instantly absorbs any chance at brightness that the few attempts at snow have tried to bring. The thing that warms us every time is talking about how next year, our Mazais Saimnieks will be enjoying his first Christmas - probably already pulling himself up on furniture and cruising around as we hold his hands, wide eyes taking it all in.
How can that thought alone not make you look at the whole world with a smile again?
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Real life Farmville
The harvest has begun! Tomatoes (red, yellow and brown), cucumbers, lettuce, basil (red, green and our own marbalized hybrid), green peppers, chili peppers, habanero peppers, green onions, oregano, parsley....all coming out of our greenhouse at astonishing rates.
The greenhouse (also fondly known as 11. trolejbus - and some of our 5 and younger visitors have taken the title seriously, locking themselves in and taking "rides" this summer) has been one of KB's main projects this summer, and we are definitely enjoying the benefits of all the hard work.
But the "surprise garden" is happening at Jaunvitagas this summer. This spring we tried an experiment - KB plowed a small area of land, we threw some seedlings that had been sprouted at home into the gound, put up a quick fence around the area and decided to see what would happen. Our neighbors were convinced the wild boar would tear it apart. We were a bit discouraged when we saw how quickly weeds were coming up and even more discouraged by the massive heat this summer, and felt sure nothing would survive as no one was there to water, weed or otherwise maintain the garden.
Much to our surprise, this week we came home with five massive zucchinis that were buried among the weeds, uncovered two pumpkins well on their way to being full grown and many pumpkin flowers, and are unsure whether three very healthy plants are also cucumbers or squash, but are excited to find out. Seems us not weeding probably helped these plants not get dried out in the great heat and they thrived regardless. And though there are animal tracks circling the garden, the fence has not been touched.
Another great surprise was sugar peas. The ones in our greenhouse did not do well, but somehow, a good number of pea seeds got mixed in with a bunch of wildflowers KB planted at Jaunvitagas and we unexpectedly picked a bag full of peas as well.
Along with the regular mushrooming and berry picking, I've been quite busy in the kitchen with all the goods from the harvest. To me, a very good way to spend my last few days before school begins again.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Two seasons
I've decided there are two seasons in Latvia - hibernation and the active season. This makes blogging more of a challenge, because during hibernation, there's not much to write about and during the active season, well, I'm out there living it and there's not much time to write about it!
This weekend I'm sick in bed with a fever watching the beautiful weather through my window. I wanted to update the blog with photos, but the camera is out with KB who's more active than ever this active season with Laimins, the new (to us) blue mini-tractor. Sun up at 4:30 am and sundown after 10:30 pm makes for some very long workdays for him. I myself am trying to keep my head above the water with the inevitable end of the school year craziness coupled with a fairly intensive (or maybe it just seems so with all the other work right now) six-week online course.
Updates on the farmer front this year include two greenhouses constructed right here in Sigulda and a fenced in garden at Jaunvitagas. Photos to follow hopefully soon. Hope everyone is enjoying their own active season, no matter where you are in the world!
This weekend I'm sick in bed with a fever watching the beautiful weather through my window. I wanted to update the blog with photos, but the camera is out with KB who's more active than ever this active season with Laimins, the new (to us) blue mini-tractor. Sun up at 4:30 am and sundown after 10:30 pm makes for some very long workdays for him. I myself am trying to keep my head above the water with the inevitable end of the school year craziness coupled with a fairly intensive (or maybe it just seems so with all the other work right now) six-week online course.
Updates on the farmer front this year include two greenhouses constructed right here in Sigulda and a fenced in garden at Jaunvitagas. Photos to follow hopefully soon. Hope everyone is enjoying their own active season, no matter where you are in the world!
Saturday, March 27, 2010
The more I read....
....the more in awe I am of how I choose books (or books choose me) at just the right times in my life.
Today's quote that went straight to my heart:
"Every time I thought that I was 'put together,' I realized that we're always putting ourselves together, gathering the world in, letting it sift down and form us."
(Calla Lily Ponder, herione of my current Kindle book)
Today's quote that went straight to my heart:
"Every time I thought that I was 'put together,' I realized that we're always putting ourselves together, gathering the world in, letting it sift down and form us."
(Calla Lily Ponder, herione of my current Kindle book)
Saturday, March 13, 2010
An unexpected visitor
Spring and winter are absolutely hanging out together at the moment. I'm trying to think of it in nice terms, it doesn't feel like they are fighting each other, but rather playing together, each taking short turns making their appearance. Even with the ever increasing sunlight, the choirs of birds and the unmistakeable smell of spring in the air, yesterday it snowed again. This added just enough snow to the many centimeters already on the ground, that the fence separating our yard from the neighbors is now completely buried. Thus, we have a temporary visitor, the neighbor's German shepard now lives in our yard as well. :)
The pictures don't really do justice to the mountain of snow, but in the photos, he is literally laying on top of fence. The good news is, hopefully there will be no more neighborhood cats peeing on our front door trying to get Mima's attention, now that dog smell is all about. The bad news is he found several plastic flower pots in our backyard (I think they were on our back mini-porch) and destroyed them all over our backyard.
And Mims also wants her fifteen minutes of fame, so here is a bit of photo evidence of her latest hobby: alternating between loving and attempting to kill her catnip lion, her Christmas present from her family in the US.
The pictures don't really do justice to the mountain of snow, but in the photos, he is literally laying on top of fence. The good news is, hopefully there will be no more neighborhood cats peeing on our front door trying to get Mima's attention, now that dog smell is all about. The bad news is he found several plastic flower pots in our backyard (I think they were on our back mini-porch) and destroyed them all over our backyard.
And Mims also wants her fifteen minutes of fame, so here is a bit of photo evidence of her latest hobby: alternating between loving and attempting to kill her catnip lion, her Christmas present from her family in the US.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!
This is the yearly post in which I can officially announce that the sun has come back to us! The days have been noticeably lighter and lighter for a while now (that's what happens when you gain sunlight at the amazing rate of an extra four and a half minutes a day), and today I left the house for the train at a few minutes to 6am with a band of light on the horizon and when I got home at quarter to 7 the sun was just on it's way down in a beautiful sunset. Hooray! Nevermind that we still have centimeters upon centimeters of snow on the ground (not particularly in any hurry to melt), the sky has been blue for six days in a row now and the smell of spring was unmistakeably in the air. It's like reuniting with an old friend. :)
Saturday, March 6, 2010
31, a tough pill to swallow
Fascinating. I was looking back through some of my posts from last spring (mainly looking for a quote about spring that I wasn't sure if I had already posted) and re-read last year's birthday post. I now have a theory. I don't do well with birthdays that have to do with the number 13. Last year's post outlined my difficulties with my 13th birthday and my 26th birthday (double 13). This year's birthday (the REVERSE of 13) was another one that will go down in the books as traumatic in the reflective department.
This is the first birthday where my number makes me feel old. Yes, I know, age is just a number, and I've always been more or less ok with the numbers (strangely minus the years that relate to 13, I am discovering)... I always get comments that I don't look my age, so as the numbers have gone up, I've always been able to "feel" young regardless. 30 was still an ok year for me - I guess because although there were things I had envisioned for myself by 30, it was still my 30th year so I still had time to make it happen. But now that this year has come and gone, I have a bit of reconciling to do with why certain goals are not met. This is the first moment in my life I've really come across this feeling of an actual possibility of running out of time in life.
In a way, moments like this are good, they put fire under you to keep your goals and dreams fresh. However, at the same time, it's a reminder to slow down and enjoy what you have and trust that everything else will work itself out. Thus also the quote about spring I was looking for.... I couldn't find the one I was actually looking for, but the idea is quite close to this:
"No winter lasts forever, no spring skips its turn."
Be patient. Be happy in the moment you have. Trust that everything will come to you in the right moment. Even if you think you know exactly when that right moment is (because quite frankly in my opinion, spring should be making it's entrance now!), the earth has bigger plans and it knows what's best. Spring will not forget about you.....be patient.
I think the quote I was looking for referred to the sun and the moon, and the seasons as well - they don't hurry each other along, they give each other their time and patiently arrive when it is their turn.
So, just as I can't dictate that spring will arrive on March 21, even if the calendar says so, I suppose I can't dictate certain goals just because my birthday calendar says so. I'll follow the lead of the sun/moon and the seasons, and my goal for this year is patience and appreciation for the moment.
This is the first birthday where my number makes me feel old. Yes, I know, age is just a number, and I've always been more or less ok with the numbers (strangely minus the years that relate to 13, I am discovering)... I always get comments that I don't look my age, so as the numbers have gone up, I've always been able to "feel" young regardless. 30 was still an ok year for me - I guess because although there were things I had envisioned for myself by 30, it was still my 30th year so I still had time to make it happen. But now that this year has come and gone, I have a bit of reconciling to do with why certain goals are not met. This is the first moment in my life I've really come across this feeling of an actual possibility of running out of time in life.
In a way, moments like this are good, they put fire under you to keep your goals and dreams fresh. However, at the same time, it's a reminder to slow down and enjoy what you have and trust that everything else will work itself out. Thus also the quote about spring I was looking for.... I couldn't find the one I was actually looking for, but the idea is quite close to this:
"No winter lasts forever, no spring skips its turn."
Be patient. Be happy in the moment you have. Trust that everything will come to you in the right moment. Even if you think you know exactly when that right moment is (because quite frankly in my opinion, spring should be making it's entrance now!), the earth has bigger plans and it knows what's best. Spring will not forget about you.....be patient.
I think the quote I was looking for referred to the sun and the moon, and the seasons as well - they don't hurry each other along, they give each other their time and patiently arrive when it is their turn.
So, just as I can't dictate that spring will arrive on March 21, even if the calendar says so, I suppose I can't dictate certain goals just because my birthday calendar says so. I'll follow the lead of the sun/moon and the seasons, and my goal for this year is patience and appreciation for the moment.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
My birthday wish
As I come up on my birthday month (yes, I traditionally think of the whole month as belonging to me) here is my wish in this rollercoaster of a year. (So far this year has taken the cake in achieving extreme highs and recordbreaking lows in such an amazingly short amount of time - and I've had some significant rollercoasters in my time...) I wish that everyone who has been handed a basketful of lemons in 2010 (because I am not the only one) is able to make the most delicious lemonade ever (straight up or mixed with your alcoholic drink of choice). It's all leading to something good, that if for certain. I was just going to ask life to give us a minute to add some water and dilute those lemons for the lemonade, but looking at the wet spot in my ceiling and the river of a street with all this melting snow, fear not, water is on the way. :) More sugar, please. :)
(P.S. This is not to say life should never hand you lemons. I fully recognize their nutritional value and necessity for growth in life as well. Lemons are ok too, just sometimes the really big ones are tough to digest.)
(P.S. This is not to say life should never hand you lemons. I fully recognize their nutritional value and necessity for growth in life as well. Lemons are ok too, just sometimes the really big ones are tough to digest.)
Friday, February 26, 2010
Huh
Was she pretending to be a child again or had she just lost her mind? I just saw an 80+ year old woman walking down the street eating a snowball like it was an apple. My mind is not quite sure how to process that one... :)
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Four years
My profile now officially reads "after FOUR years in LV...." (February 13 came and went quite uneventfully this year, with me slugging on the couch with my kleenex box battling a particularly unfriendly cold), but the sentence continues to read "I'm still trying to make sense of it all." Wondering if/when I might get to edit the rest of that sentence, but I'm starting to think that just might be part of it all.
To my faithful readers who are still waiting for LV as home, Part 2 (and to myself, disappointed for still not being able to fully articulate)... I guess that is what this whole blog is about... If I could put it into words in a nice neat sentence, I'd do it, but I sincerely struggle with it. Instead I can only offer photographs or anecdotes which give small insights into what I'm feeling, but there is no nutshell for me. At least not yet. Maybe by year 5?
I can only say I've come up with the realization that a lot of the things I love about being here could be summed as storybook moments. They're small glimpses into all the wonderful and beautiful things we learned and experienced about LV while growing up elsewhere, and to be able to experience them firsthand and more often than just while vacationing here but really being part of it, make up one piece of the puzzle as to why LV feels like home. Like last week, it made me smile out loud again to hear someone's ringtone on the train - a well-loved Latvian folksong. I have no idea who that person is, but it's a small instant connection. It's the little stuff...
Hmmmmm.....did any of that actually make sense? Could be my stuffy sick head still talking....that being said, I think it's time to get off the cat's schedule (sleeping 20 or so hours a day) and consider cleaning this pighole. KB is still recovering from surgery and even though we've both been down for the count, we have not been able to convince Mims to pitch in with the housework, thus the mega-mess. You see, life is still life everywhere, and in between the storybook moments, there's still cleaning to be done.
*** P.S. A little bit more reflection after cleaning....
The final part of that first sentence in my profile reads "but always with a smile...." Lately I feel like that smile has faded and maybe that's why it's a bit harder for me to write. But I look at the rest of what I have written - about the storms being a bit stormier, the sun shining a bit brighter....and rainbows through it all. It's been a heavily stormy period - watching this country not really be able to take care of itself yet, watching people around me lose faith in this place even as I'm struggling to hang on to my own, feeling exhausted from constantly trying to make ends meet, saying good-bye to friends who are family over and over again....but I'm still hopeful that means there are some seriously bright days coming ahead as a law of averages. And I am well overdue for a rainbow. Good thing spring is just around the corner.
To my faithful readers who are still waiting for LV as home, Part 2 (and to myself, disappointed for still not being able to fully articulate)... I guess that is what this whole blog is about... If I could put it into words in a nice neat sentence, I'd do it, but I sincerely struggle with it. Instead I can only offer photographs or anecdotes which give small insights into what I'm feeling, but there is no nutshell for me. At least not yet. Maybe by year 5?
I can only say I've come up with the realization that a lot of the things I love about being here could be summed as storybook moments. They're small glimpses into all the wonderful and beautiful things we learned and experienced about LV while growing up elsewhere, and to be able to experience them firsthand and more often than just while vacationing here but really being part of it, make up one piece of the puzzle as to why LV feels like home. Like last week, it made me smile out loud again to hear someone's ringtone on the train - a well-loved Latvian folksong. I have no idea who that person is, but it's a small instant connection. It's the little stuff...
Hmmmmm.....did any of that actually make sense? Could be my stuffy sick head still talking....that being said, I think it's time to get off the cat's schedule (sleeping 20 or so hours a day) and consider cleaning this pighole. KB is still recovering from surgery and even though we've both been down for the count, we have not been able to convince Mims to pitch in with the housework, thus the mega-mess. You see, life is still life everywhere, and in between the storybook moments, there's still cleaning to be done.
*** P.S. A little bit more reflection after cleaning....
The final part of that first sentence in my profile reads "but always with a smile...." Lately I feel like that smile has faded and maybe that's why it's a bit harder for me to write. But I look at the rest of what I have written - about the storms being a bit stormier, the sun shining a bit brighter....and rainbows through it all. It's been a heavily stormy period - watching this country not really be able to take care of itself yet, watching people around me lose faith in this place even as I'm struggling to hang on to my own, feeling exhausted from constantly trying to make ends meet, saying good-bye to friends who are family over and over again....but I'm still hopeful that means there are some seriously bright days coming ahead as a law of averages. And I am well overdue for a rainbow. Good thing spring is just around the corner.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
LV as home, Part 1
Still working on my own explanation clarifying why and how LV feels like home, but as a starter, let me present the lyrics of a song. The song is from a boy band Tranzits but the words give me goosebumps every time I hear them. So I guess if you read this and can relate, that's the beginning of this conversation (as the first lines of the lyrics indicate). :)
Es gribu Tev ko pajautāt
Vai esi redzējis Latviju rītausmā – ja jā
Tad varam sākt
Par sajūtām
Kuras visskaudrāk mēs izjūtam tālu no mājām
Kā ceļš
Kā valoda
Tās vieno mūs un tās atņemt vai nopirkt tie nespēs
Ir laiks
Ar sevi sākt
Ko dalīt vienmēr ir bijis un būs
Piedz.
Kamēr vasaras rītos no ziedošām pļavām balta migla pacelsies
Lai cik tālu bijis vienalga ko darījis ceļš mans mājup ies
Ja ikviens savu sirdi no bailēm un pagātnes sārņiem iztīrīs
Strauts kas tek man gar mājām gadu tūkstošiem ilgi atkal tecēs tīrs
Un var jau būt
Sen liekas Tev
Ka citur zaļāka zāle un skaistāk dzied putni
Kā tiem no tuksnešiem
Kas izvelk saknes un ripo – kur labi tur mājas
Cik daudz vēl spēka būs
Jo kalnam augstajam neredz ne gala ne malas
Bet reiz ir jāsaprot
Ka tikai kopā tur uzkāpt būs lemts
Varbūt ka esmu naivs
Un viss tikai cīņa ar vējdzirnavām
Bet kamēr tecēs strauts
Mana ticība nezudīs
Sunday, January 31, 2010
The world's tallest snowman....
....is right here in Sigulda, measuring seven meters! The competition open to all of Sigulda's primary school students to name the snowman is happening this week. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)