Blah! I HATE headaches! Once again, we had company over for dinner on a Tuesday and once again I had a massive headache. Boo! Last week, we invited Aris' teacher over for dinner. We had a very nice evening with her. I really enjoyed getting to know her better and experiment with a vegetarian recipe I had found. I do cook meatless about once a week (or more depending on the week), but it was fun to try something a bit nicer and different than what I usually do.
Tonight we entertained friends from IT. Steve grew up with D and she was one of the very first people I met after we started dating. Since our meeting, she met a wonderful man, got married and now has a three year old. As they live in Austria, I've met them once since then, the last time they were home on furlough. That made tonight extra special. They're a multicultural family. H. was(is?) a refugee from the Middle East and D is from here. He speaks Farsi, she speaks English. To each other, they speak German. It was fun getting to know them both better, hear their stories and enjoy some good food. I really enjoyed listening to them speak German together. H's English is still in progress, so D would stop to translate if I spoke too quickly or used unfamiliar idioms. As we are becoming much more used to this, we weren't frustrated at all which soothed our friends' nerves. Thankfully our children played well together.
Thankfully my headache calmed down while they were here, but it is steadily gaining in strength again. I am thankful for both the reprieve and the visit with friends. I am also thankful for my wonderful husband who just cleaned my kitchen for me. :)
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Graceful Parents
We had a rough Sunday. It started off well, although scary, with service at the church we just started attending. It was Communion Sunday which was done quite a bit different than what I was used to. Change is scary right now. But it worked out. Then the day collapsed into drama with an incident with Aris' father while I was attending a funeral in another city. To top off the day, my sister called in tears after having both money and her cell phone stolen while she was in training. It was rough. I woke up today and demanded that there be no more drama today. I just couldn't handle it!
It's hard when walking through days, weeks, seasons like this to see any good in it. My heart is heavy. I don't know what steps to take next regarding the situation with Aris' father. While walking home after dropping off my children at school this morning, I poured out my heart to my friends, one of whom is a single dad. I felt stupid, like I was a burden. But my words were out, unable to be taken back.
Much later on our way back to school, I ended up walking with Mark, the single dad. He shared some about his relationship with his ex-wife, about how her anger and brokenness affect him and his kids. He shared how much better it is for him to be out of the relationship and yet how he is continuing to be in relationship with her. As we walked to school to fetch the children, she was sitting at his house drinking coffee, having had a rough day. We shared our stories, discovering how much we and our parents have in common.
Not wanting to pry, I haven't asked many questions about his marriage or the break-up. But today, the walls were down and he shared how long he'd been with his wife and how long they've been apart. I realized that it was eight years ago this month that I made a crazy, yet wise decision to end my engagement to Aris' father. It was hard. Although my parents didn't think I could be a single mom, they breathed a sigh of relief when I cancelled the wedding. Mark commented that his parents and mine could swap stories.
I shared about my mother's journey from anger to love towards Aris' father and how yesterday, in the midst of a difficult situation, my mother reminded my ex that she loved him. Rather than scold him for his actions, she bought him some coffee and spent some time with him, almost as if he were her own son, rather than one who had caused such grief both then and now. Amazingly, Mark said that his parents have done the same. He thought that they would have barred his ex-wife from their property, but instead they show grace and compassion towards her.
This capacity for grace amazes me. For both Mark and me, it is oftentimes hard to show grace while in the situation. Sometimes the hurt is too big, the situation too drastic. What happened yesterday was not okay. But to see our parents, who have every right to be angry and hostile, choosing instead to love is beyond words. Just writing this my eyes filled with tears. I wrote this post better in my head while making soup. The words flowed in a beautiful, artsy way. Now sitting down to write, it feels stilted and the phrasing that ran through my head like water earlier has now dried up. But still the beauty of grace, undeserved, unexplained, lingers. May this same grace find its way into my life, tempering my angry tongue.
It's hard when walking through days, weeks, seasons like this to see any good in it. My heart is heavy. I don't know what steps to take next regarding the situation with Aris' father. While walking home after dropping off my children at school this morning, I poured out my heart to my friends, one of whom is a single dad. I felt stupid, like I was a burden. But my words were out, unable to be taken back.
Much later on our way back to school, I ended up walking with Mark, the single dad. He shared some about his relationship with his ex-wife, about how her anger and brokenness affect him and his kids. He shared how much better it is for him to be out of the relationship and yet how he is continuing to be in relationship with her. As we walked to school to fetch the children, she was sitting at his house drinking coffee, having had a rough day. We shared our stories, discovering how much we and our parents have in common.
Not wanting to pry, I haven't asked many questions about his marriage or the break-up. But today, the walls were down and he shared how long he'd been with his wife and how long they've been apart. I realized that it was eight years ago this month that I made a crazy, yet wise decision to end my engagement to Aris' father. It was hard. Although my parents didn't think I could be a single mom, they breathed a sigh of relief when I cancelled the wedding. Mark commented that his parents and mine could swap stories.
I shared about my mother's journey from anger to love towards Aris' father and how yesterday, in the midst of a difficult situation, my mother reminded my ex that she loved him. Rather than scold him for his actions, she bought him some coffee and spent some time with him, almost as if he were her own son, rather than one who had caused such grief both then and now. Amazingly, Mark said that his parents have done the same. He thought that they would have barred his ex-wife from their property, but instead they show grace and compassion towards her.
This capacity for grace amazes me. For both Mark and me, it is oftentimes hard to show grace while in the situation. Sometimes the hurt is too big, the situation too drastic. What happened yesterday was not okay. But to see our parents, who have every right to be angry and hostile, choosing instead to love is beyond words. Just writing this my eyes filled with tears. I wrote this post better in my head while making soup. The words flowed in a beautiful, artsy way. Now sitting down to write, it feels stilted and the phrasing that ran through my head like water earlier has now dried up. But still the beauty of grace, undeserved, unexplained, lingers. May this same grace find its way into my life, tempering my angry tongue.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Outside My Window
But my birds didn't quite turn out right. The contrast was too great, and my camera struggled to focus on the birds through the screen. So I tried to gently open the screen door too. Alas it squeaked, and the birds flew away. Hoping that the birds would come back if I waited, I readied my camera and waited. To my right, I saw a flash of movement and turned my head to see this:
I continued tracking the little woodpecker with my zoom, trying to get better shots, when he hopped away. I tried to follow him, when suddenly something significantly bigger flew in front of me.
At first, this beautiful bird attempted to land on my slide. He's sitting on top of the play structure well. Even dignified jays don't do so well on a plastic slide. Then he hopped up here. I snapped several shots and then tried to keep track of his antics. Jays don't sit still! He flew and hopped around my yard, to neighbouring trees and the forest floor. It was challenging but fun taking pictures of him.
I enjoyed this little moment, snapping pictures until the birds flew away and my neighbours started walking towards their house(and me). That's when I realized that I had been taking pictures in my jammies. Oops. Thankfully my pajamas are both decent and warm, but still...So I stopped taking pictures and went back inside to finish making lunch filled with joy over my little encounter.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Couch Date
Sometimes life gets crazy busy and even though it isn't necessarily bad, we feel like ships passing in the night. So today, we fed the kids a snacky supper(their favourite) and then after their bedtime, got ourselves a treat that we ate while watching Nikita(my new favourite show). We tried watching Outsourced, but the cross-cultural awkwardness was just too painful. When I started covering my eyes and rocking back and forth moaning "This is bad...this is really bad" a la Miss Aris, Steve decided we'd try watching something else.
It's bee a good day after a better week. I can't believe tomorrow is Saturday. Where did this week go? So today I'm thankful for a better week, a good afternoon with my mentor and a great couch date with my husband. :)
It's bee a good day after a better week. I can't believe tomorrow is Saturday. Where did this week go? So today I'm thankful for a better week, a good afternoon with my mentor and a great couch date with my husband. :)
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Baking Together
We bake a cake together, him and I. He pulls a chair up, blocking my way, so he can help better. His hands over mine, we sift the dry ingredients. While I check the recipe, he adds milk to the flour and flour to the milk. But I smile instead of sigh because he is so proud to be helping.
Hand over hand, we blend the butter and sugar, crack the eggs and blend them too. I could do it faster, easier all by myself, but this little one desires to be useful. I know that feeling well, so I bite my tongue, breathe a little deeper and pledge to enjoy him instead of getting frustrated. He adds, pours, stirs and mixes "just like Mommy". Then when the batter is finished, he smoothes it out and licks the beaters. "Dis is disgusting!" he declares loudly, but that's okay too.
Much later, we serve the cake to our small group. Kian proudly announcing that he helped make it. And our friends eat it with enjoyment, declaring it to be delicious.
I'm linking up with Emily today.
Sweet Potato Pound Cake
(from Southern Cakes by Nancie McDermott)
3 1/4 cups sifted all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 cup light brown sugar
4 eggs
2 cups mashed cooked sweet potatoes
Heat the oven to 350 degrees and grease and flour a 10-inch tube pan. Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, nutmeg, and salt in a medium bowl, and stir with a fork to mix well. Combine the milk and vanilla in a small bowl. Set aside the milk and flour mixtures.
In a large bowl, beat the butter, sugar, and brown sugar together with a mixer at high speed until light and well combined, stopping once or twice to scrape down the bowl. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well each time. Add the mashed sweet potatoes and mix at low speed for 1 minute, or until the batter is evenly mixed.
Add about half the flour mixture and beat gently, using a wooden spoon or a mixer at low speed, only until the flour disappears into the batter. Add half the milk and mix gently to combine everything well. Mix in the remaining flour and then the remaining milk, beating gently only until you have a thick, smooth batter.
Scrape the batter into the prepared tube pan, and bake at 350 degrees for between 60 and 75 minutes, or until the cake is evenly browned, springs back when touched gently in the centre, and a wooden skewer inserted in the centre comes out clean.
Cool in the pan on a wire rack or a folded kitchen towel for 20 minutes. Then use a table knife to loosen the cake from the pan. Turn out the cake onto a wire rack, place it top side up, and cool to room temperature.
Recipe taken from: http://butterme-up.blogspot.com/
Hand over hand, we blend the butter and sugar, crack the eggs and blend them too. I could do it faster, easier all by myself, but this little one desires to be useful. I know that feeling well, so I bite my tongue, breathe a little deeper and pledge to enjoy him instead of getting frustrated. He adds, pours, stirs and mixes "just like Mommy". Then when the batter is finished, he smoothes it out and licks the beaters. "Dis is disgusting!" he declares loudly, but that's okay too.
Much later, we serve the cake to our small group. Kian proudly announcing that he helped make it. And our friends eat it with enjoyment, declaring it to be delicious.
I'm linking up with Emily today.
Sweet Potato Pound Cake
(from Southern Cakes by Nancie McDermott)
3 1/4 cups sifted all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 cup light brown sugar
4 eggs
2 cups mashed cooked sweet potatoes
Heat the oven to 350 degrees and grease and flour a 10-inch tube pan. Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, nutmeg, and salt in a medium bowl, and stir with a fork to mix well. Combine the milk and vanilla in a small bowl. Set aside the milk and flour mixtures.
In a large bowl, beat the butter, sugar, and brown sugar together with a mixer at high speed until light and well combined, stopping once or twice to scrape down the bowl. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well each time. Add the mashed sweet potatoes and mix at low speed for 1 minute, or until the batter is evenly mixed.
Add about half the flour mixture and beat gently, using a wooden spoon or a mixer at low speed, only until the flour disappears into the batter. Add half the milk and mix gently to combine everything well. Mix in the remaining flour and then the remaining milk, beating gently only until you have a thick, smooth batter.
Scrape the batter into the prepared tube pan, and bake at 350 degrees for between 60 and 75 minutes, or until the cake is evenly browned, springs back when touched gently in the centre, and a wooden skewer inserted in the centre comes out clean.
Cool in the pan on a wire rack or a folded kitchen towel for 20 minutes. Then use a table knife to loosen the cake from the pan. Turn out the cake onto a wire rack, place it top side up, and cool to room temperature.
Recipe taken from: http://butterme-up.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Better End than Beginning
This morning started out horribly. I woke up sick, with burning lungs and a head that hated movement. My chest stopped hurting after some tea, but my head got worse even after taking some medicine. Boo! I hate headaches! They are my kryptonite or whatever it is that affects Super Mom. I should note that I'm not claiming to be a perfect amazing mother, but rather that my family really likes super heroes. I have a Super Girl t-shirt, which has morphed into me being called Super Mom. I also have a Super Friends and a Wonder Woman shirt. However, the only female super hero who is also a mother is Elastic Girl and I don't have one of her t-shirts. Also, my superpower is making milk, not stretching. But I digress...
Let's go with having a motion-sensitive headache is very bad when one has to carry a screaming, kicking, squirming little boy up two flights of stairs to change his filthy diaper. Discovering that the other little boy is absolutely filthy and needs a bath two weeks ago also does not help with this type of headache. Having to straddle a kicking, screaming, fighting little boy to put a diaper on him after he just peed on one's floor does nothing to alleviate the accompanying nausea. Instead, it causes one to rock back and forth on the floor begging for mercy. Or ones husband to come home...
My merciful mother dropped by instead bearing gifts of pizza, hugs, prayers and distraction for two lovely little boys. My wonderful husband left work early to pick up Aris(Supergirl) from school, and then reappeared earlier than normal to help mop the kitchen floor. Did I mention that on this very rough day I was scheduled to have a guest for dinner? Since we're slightly crazy around here, we decided that this must just be spiritual attack and to keep on going. So we did. I made an amazing dinner, my headache disappeared and we had a great evening. Huh. Imagine that.
My wonderful husband(Batman) and I just had a great discussion on the couch and now we're headed off to bed. Well, that is as soon as Zane(Superman, Batman, Spiderman, Ben 10, etc) stops crying and goes back to sleep. Hopefully both he and Kian(Tuck from Wonder Pets) will sleep through the night again tonight. And yes, all of my family members have super identities 'cause we're all geeky and proud of it! :)
Let's go with having a motion-sensitive headache is very bad when one has to carry a screaming, kicking, squirming little boy up two flights of stairs to change his filthy diaper. Discovering that the other little boy is absolutely filthy and needs a bath two weeks ago also does not help with this type of headache. Having to straddle a kicking, screaming, fighting little boy to put a diaper on him after he just peed on one's floor does nothing to alleviate the accompanying nausea. Instead, it causes one to rock back and forth on the floor begging for mercy. Or ones husband to come home...
My merciful mother dropped by instead bearing gifts of pizza, hugs, prayers and distraction for two lovely little boys. My wonderful husband left work early to pick up Aris(Supergirl) from school, and then reappeared earlier than normal to help mop the kitchen floor. Did I mention that on this very rough day I was scheduled to have a guest for dinner? Since we're slightly crazy around here, we decided that this must just be spiritual attack and to keep on going. So we did. I made an amazing dinner, my headache disappeared and we had a great evening. Huh. Imagine that.
My wonderful husband(Batman) and I just had a great discussion on the couch and now we're headed off to bed. Well, that is as soon as Zane(Superman, Batman, Spiderman, Ben 10, etc) stops crying and goes back to sleep. Hopefully both he and Kian(Tuck from Wonder Pets) will sleep through the night again tonight. And yes, all of my family members have super identities 'cause we're all geeky and proud of it! :)
Monday, November 1, 2010
Refugees
As I was getting into my van this afternoon, I noticed three large vehicles parked beside the plaza behind my house. They were all parked very close together and I soon discovered that they were filled with police officers. These police officers were heavily armoured, looking ready for some sort of mission. But I wasn't afraid.
Later, while chatting with my super in the parking lot, I heard for the first time in real life the sound of assault rifles being cocked. As I watched, police officers donned more armour, readied their weapons and got ready for battle, all this happening right behind where I live. But I wasn't afraid.
Even though there were men with guns in close proximity, I wasn't afraid. These were the police, and they're trustworthy. As a parent, I teach my children to go to the police when they are in trouble. But I've realized recently how fortunate I am to have this protection. In many parts of the world, the police and military forces are not friendly. Instead they are corrupt, sometimes impeding justice, other times actively working against it.
There are many other ways in which I'm blessed, so many that I don't even realize them. The sound of airplanes overhead fills my children with delight, not fear. We can run across an open field, not fearful of landmines waiting to shred innocent bodies. There are no armed guards at the grocery store. I can ride the bus without fear of bombers. I can practice my faith without fear of arrest or death. There are many more blessings I can add to this list. Far too many for my peace of mine. I am too blessed.
This is why the proposed Bill C-49 has me upset. The plight of the refugee resonates strongly with me, even though I have always known safe haven. Canada's welcome and care of refugees is one of the many reasons I am proud to be Canadian. Our organization works with and cares for refugees all around the world, including right here in my city, which is another reason I love International Teams so much. As we have served with IT, I have learned and cared much more about the plight of the refugees. Then one became my friend. Her story broke my heart, opened my mind and caused me to pray a lot more. Her family is the reason my children participate in the Ride for Refuge.
I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this. Mostly because I can't keep silent. Here is an article to read and here is more information especially on contacting your local MP. I know that this is a complex issue, but I am frustrated by the general apathy, indifference or even rejection shown towards those who have known hardship we can barely even imagine. I'm not sure how to end this, so thank you for reading my little rant. Please read further, find more information and act.
Later, while chatting with my super in the parking lot, I heard for the first time in real life the sound of assault rifles being cocked. As I watched, police officers donned more armour, readied their weapons and got ready for battle, all this happening right behind where I live. But I wasn't afraid.
Even though there were men with guns in close proximity, I wasn't afraid. These were the police, and they're trustworthy. As a parent, I teach my children to go to the police when they are in trouble. But I've realized recently how fortunate I am to have this protection. In many parts of the world, the police and military forces are not friendly. Instead they are corrupt, sometimes impeding justice, other times actively working against it.
There are many other ways in which I'm blessed, so many that I don't even realize them. The sound of airplanes overhead fills my children with delight, not fear. We can run across an open field, not fearful of landmines waiting to shred innocent bodies. There are no armed guards at the grocery store. I can ride the bus without fear of bombers. I can practice my faith without fear of arrest or death. There are many more blessings I can add to this list. Far too many for my peace of mine. I am too blessed.
This is why the proposed Bill C-49 has me upset. The plight of the refugee resonates strongly with me, even though I have always known safe haven. Canada's welcome and care of refugees is one of the many reasons I am proud to be Canadian. Our organization works with and cares for refugees all around the world, including right here in my city, which is another reason I love International Teams so much. As we have served with IT, I have learned and cared much more about the plight of the refugees. Then one became my friend. Her story broke my heart, opened my mind and caused me to pray a lot more. Her family is the reason my children participate in the Ride for Refuge.
I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this. Mostly because I can't keep silent. Here is an article to read and here is more information especially on contacting your local MP. I know that this is a complex issue, but I am frustrated by the general apathy, indifference or even rejection shown towards those who have known hardship we can barely even imagine. I'm not sure how to end this, so thank you for reading my little rant. Please read further, find more information and act.
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