Catch-up

The last eight weeks:

1. Mooncake folly: About a billion months ago, Gus and I went to a neighborhood mooncake making party. We soon realized from the looks on everyone's faces that our bewilderment on the process and the directions we required to complete the process was the equivalent of an alien showing up at a Christmas cookie decorating party and asking, "Now, which is the cookie and which is the frosting?" "What exactly do you mean by 'spread the frosting on the cookie?'" "Do I use the green sprinkles or the red sprinkles? How many sprinkles exactly? All over the frosting? How many milimeters of frosting?" We were high maintenance and worrisome. And, horror of horrors, we ATE our mooncakes as soon as we made them. It was sort of a Homer Simpson moment looking around at all the other tables with pretty mooncakes in pretty boxes and Gus and I with full mouths and sticky fingers and mooncake guilt.

2. Perspective: A baby elephant strolled down the beach, and I went wild, urging Gus to go over and pet it. Gus looked over his shoulder and said, "Nah. I've seen enough elephants." I was pretty sure I'd failed as a parent in every regard until the neighbor came over with his Golden Retriever and Gus lost his mind with delight. It was a dog you could pet. A dog that wasn't feral. A dog without rabies. 

3. Legos: The male people in this house have Lego fever. I'm considering using Legos as leverage for all the atrophied skills I worry over. Want to build? Ride your bike. 

4. Waiting. We're waiting to learn about the margin in our lives. We're waiting for P to return from a big long work trip. We're waiting for Gram's cinnamon rolls. We're waiting for our winged bean crop on the back patio to be ready for harvest since the last crop was STOLEN by someone who obviously does not understand how desperately a three-year-old waits to harvest his winged beans.

5. Drawing. We tried to draw a Christmas card, and it just didn't work. We're on plan 42. We'll get there. We did eke out something for our sketchbook exchange:

 

6. Mustafa Centre. After ten years in Singapore, I went there today, and it was amazing. You should all be worried about your Christmas gifts.

 

Singapore Season

'Tis the season.

P is back from a week in Boston (he says we'll live there someday) with treats:

Grand treats.

When he is away, I don't sleep great, so I sometimes have midnight drawing bursts. And in the words of Gus, the Christmas cards are "Over!" A sneak peeK:

I attended a few holiday parties. Thankfully, I have good friends willing to be my dates at all of 'em. It looks like I'm particularly merry, but the truth is, I'm just relieved to not have to walk in that restaurant alone.

It's so good to have P back. The stockings are hung, the tree is trimmed, Gus requests the same Christmas book every night, and it's the second Saturday of Advent.

These pre-Christmas weekends are sacred. We slow down. We light our Advent candles. We take walks. It's a sweaty holiday season on the equator this year, but it almost makes it more special to have to fight against the external forces that try and tell you it's not Christmas. It is Christmas, indeed. And I'm so happy to have both boys home for our celebrating--even if we're hunting lizards rather than throwing snowballs.

 

 

What lies ahead

A friend shared a blog article today, and it was talking about how situations that drive us to go within---often end up limiting us. I don't think I agree with the article's greater point, but I did think about how the city of Prague---or my ability to survive in the city of Prague given my limitations, fears, and idiosyncrasies---drives me within. I work to limit my interactions with others, and I try to hide from what is uniquely and wonderfully Praha. (all self-imposed, mind you! No fault of Prague's!) But---and this is absolutely not a comparison of cultures or a weigh-in on whether one is better than the other, it's simply the result of my dreadful shortcomings interacting with the aspects of a culture---in Southeast Asia, the cultures I explored and lived in were ones that complemented my weaknesses and pushed me to be braver and to seek out interactions with others. (Again, all self-imposed choices and actions!) I could lose myself outside of myself-----and I really really miss that. I haven't been able to articulate what has been so hard about living here for me, and I think this is the crux. 

I appreciate where I am so much and am so very grateful for these two years. Given the choice, I'd live them over again. And I could return. But for now, in this phase of my life with a toddler in tow and a tentative spirit, I'm very much looking forward to the change that lies ahead.

Speaking of what lies ahead, it's already February!

 

February Sketchers

My entry is due Monday. You can see the good works the other amazing folks are doing--here. This month I had Cindy's book, and her theme was "home." I'm not into portraits and decided not to sketch P. Though that might have been fun. Instead, I turned in this:

"I am not a good decision maker, but I can say with certainty that I married well. Whew. One of the more superficial yet delightful aspects of my marrying up is where it landed me in the summers. What a view! The Ranch is a special place for us, but I still struggled to think of an image to capture Cindy's theme of "home" because P and I have always considered our relationship place enough for us. But Gus--that complicated Gus--has given us pause. While this tiny family is where we hope our collective hearts reside, we also recognize our little dude may need (because we honestly have no idea) a stable place in which he can return should he want a familiar community and a sense of roots. It didn't take too much arm twisting to decide to make that "home" near the Green compound so that G can know the same mountains and rivers and hills and trails and orchards and sunsets that his cousins will know and that his grandparents and great grandparents and father and aunts and uncles have known their whole lucky lives."

It came out more cartoonish and silly than I was aiming, but maybe that's the effect of today's -17 (celcius) weather on my chilly hands. Tomorrow--and I am not kidding--the forecast says -28. Holy smokes! 

 

Hallelujahing and Hiding

It's all hallelujahs and hiding spinach around here. Almost 11 months ago, I found myself unable to get out of bed or pick up my baby or hold a cup of coffee. A pesky joint disease altered life for this family. Altered it a lot. It hit when I was finally gaining a little confidence after a bucketload of bewildering newness: We'd kept the baby alive for nearly a year and survived our first months on a new continent. I was back clocking happy kilometers on long runs, and our first winter in seven years--a long and gray one--was starting to lift. It was a cruel time to find myself abruptly bed-ridden, and I let that disease knock the hope right out of me.

But I've got good peeps and Grace and This Too Shall Pass. And it did. It's not the same body; there are joints that will never quit growling, but I can move. Hallelujah, I can move! Today marked a milestone of moving---18 glorious kilometers through Praha with a dear friend. It was hard, but it was beautiful, and I never ever ever thought it possible. I am one grateful girl.

Tomorrow will be Advil and ice and spinach muffins. That's right. I'll take this poor transition from what really is an awfully Big Deal to explain that I obsess over iron intake, and so we've been eating Rebar's Broccoli Soup (take the time to make a pesto to swirl in, toss in some steamed florets and you will never ever ever make any other creamed brocolli soup--or possibly any other soup at all. You'll find the bare bones of it here.), which should really be called spinach soup, and finding other creative uses for the green stuff.

The boys have no idea there is wilted spinach in these delish carrot muffins. 

And tomorrow's fruit smoothies.

Bad photography aside, you have no idea how happy this all makes me. 

A door opened this week

Gus and I have been walking Stromovka as often as we can. The ice is creeping across the lake and the ducks are huddling in the corners; frosty mornings are now the norm. We have to savor these mornings of silvered trees because they will soon end. Winter will of course linger until May, but after that it could be quite a stretch of hot, welcome years.

Yesterday, P and I accepted jobs back in Singapore. I haven't found my footing yet as to how to explain this to people. There is no short answer. We like it here. We could love it here. I'd return to Prague. There's of course the hassle of snowsuits and cold hands and lost mittens and gray days. But that's not reason to go. And that's what I try to explain to people---there's not reason to leave except that Singapore offers us something that not many other places can in the toddler years of our lives. It offers us festivals and colors and diversity. It offers us monkeys and jungle walks and 365 days a year where we can go outside (granted, often in suffocating heat). It offers us Cambodia and service and travel to places to see things that Gus isn't old enough yet to complain about. I think I better take advantage of the fact that he's too young to gripe about the tuk-tuks and the holidays to places where all we do is wander and not a tv screen is to be found. And then there are the professional gains. And the hope of medical gains. BUT. There is the loss of Prague, and that is a large loss. We chose Europe not as parents and moved here as new ones. We had no idea how parenting would impact where we wanted to work and live (I know. I know. We're the dumbest people on the planet. Believe me. I KNOW.) When Gus is old enough to let me finish my coffee in a cafe or bike beside me on a river path, I'd really like to return. He and I will rip up the trails and sample every offering in the pastry shops. I can't wait.

In the meantime, we'll savor Stromovka and snowfalls and holiday markets and hot candied almonds. We'll get cocoa at every farmer's market and laugh our way through layering up to head outside. 

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This month's sketchbook entry had to be hurried-up since G and I are off to visit the beloved grandparents soon and won't be at the drawing table. The theme of this book was "colors" and I was given black. I sketched up some nocturnal animals hidden behind inked doors. Doors seemed appropriate in this season of Advent. Man, I really love things with doors.

Happy to have been and happy to be back

We are back from lands of chocolate, cheese, hiking trails, and really great people. A weeklong road trip to Munich and Zurich proved to be exactly what this family needed to gain a little clarity and lose a little Euro (Take note travellers, it's not just Switzerland that requires a toll sticker. The Austrian fine is hefty!).

(fondue--followed by chocolate--with the lovely Rops)

Gus was a champ, sleeping like he'd never slept before and recovering from bronchitis in unfamiliar places. He mooed at Swiss cows and marveled at German forests. Our hosts were all amazing and our weight gains evident. What a great trip.

And now we're back and sorting out some big decisions with lighter hearts and darker German beers. Life is good in Prague. Fall has settled in with freezing temperatures, and homemade soup was on last night's menu. This is a season to savor.

I got a little gutsy and posted some designs to sell, but it's mostly to avoid over or under printing. I'm still not comfortable with seeing doodles in print, but maybe this will all work out. We'll see. In the meantime, I've got a sketchbook project this week and three amazing birthdays to celebrate (Steelie Dan, Bekah, and Annika--Woop woop!). With only six weeks left in the CZ before Oscar and I take full advantage of all the love Grandma and Grampa have to offer, we're living it up!

 

Unor, I thought you'd never get here

We lived through January! Lows of colds and flus and culture shock and homesickness and overall blue dispositions. February is a bucketful of goodness: language lessons, weekly babysitter for Gus (date night! date night!), regular tennis evenings for P, half marathon training, visit from the Singapore (soon to be Tunis) D's, interesting art endeavor (stay tuned), ski week (to be spent at home with P, G, and colored pencils), and an added music group for G---since he demonstrates such promise in both the maraca and rainbow colored xylophone. Maybe the renewal we hope to experience in February will raise our adventure expectations. The chalk board had a grim undertone last month:

Coping with the temperatures

104 degrees is too high. Fevers are running amuck in this house, and as adults, we feel that we should protest. Fevers are for children. Not 35 year old peeps with jobs to do and hallways to vacuum. There were five free days of vacation that got all swallowed up by tissues and Panadol and achy legs. And the end is not in sight! We're trying not to dwell on our disappointment and are focusing on being grateful the baby is feeling better. But this means that a wild Gus is on the loose while his parents huddle in and out of sweats and chills.

We're also grateful for a country where house calls are the norm. Hooray for doctor home visits! The nicest doctors came today to examine the fam. We were able to stay in pjs, ignore the rain, and keep the trams safe from sickness.

The rest of the day seems a little daunting. P and I are trading naps and allowing our parenting to grow so lax that we're completely ignoring the driving while talking on the phone. 

Warning: A Sappy Post About the Baby

"I am doing a good work and can not come down." Today I learned about errands in the snow, strollers in the slush, and babies in big snowsuits. It wasn't the easiest of days with broken elevators and first-time-attempts and tiny market aisles and dropped things in snowbanks and everything taking too long and so much to do and cold mama hands. But it was also a really really good day with a little joyasaurus-almost-eight-month-Boo seeing his first big snow and peeking around corners at me like I'm the most delightful gal on earth and maniacal giggles and a lot of reminders that I only have a this-aged-Gus for right now, and even when he pees on someone else's carpet and I forget a grocery bag and have to stuff the cabbage in my purse and tomatoes next to the baby, things are super good and need savoring and I would not have it any other way.