Four years later...

I just found these old posts and realized I'm four years older, out of my twenties, and not much wiser. Disturbing to find myself at thirty and feeling more 'lost' than ever before.  Back in the baby-phase now with a 5 month old (a boy this time, which has been different), but also working as a High School teacher, back in my native country and dealing with all the issues inherent to motherhood, cross-cultural marriage, multicultural life, etc.

I mostly feel tired. And I'm starting to wonder whether I'll ever find peace of mind in any of these areas: spiritual, career, family...  "the center will not hold"-- it's a line that keeps coming back to me (Yeats).  In fact, that's what my thinking amounts to these days. Disjointed thoughts and random chunks of wisdom (or not) from random people / places.  It's a sad thing: to think in quotations of other people, and not to have much of an idea of how to make sense of things on my own.  I realize that I am a volatile and shallow person.. Trying to find bits of truth out there, identifying with bits and pieces everywhere, admiring beauty in the works and lives of others, but not sure how to construct my own truth/meaning.  Blah. It's bleak.

Fall has Fallen

So many entries have been in the making, only to be discarded. What to share, especially after a long absence? That life has changed? Well, it has, as it tends to do.
I am no longer a home-dweller. In fact, sometimes it feels like I live at my office. I love certain aspects of it. The "freedom" of walking to work alone, headphones on....no need to lift heavy strollers with restless children. It sounds awful, but I am starting to cut myself some slack in the guilt-department.

We still feel aimless sometimes. Most of the time. Life is a dense jungle of thoughts, hopes, expectations. Just trying to figure out how to really cope with life and all of its depths and simplicities is a headache. If only we weren´t so intense about it all. I married a guy who is so fundamentally different, personality-wise, but we share the wretched idealism I so often rant about. Why wretched? Mainly, because we can´t lighten up (about life). Everything overwhelms us these days. Balancing family-life with work, with personal time, with dreams.
Sometimes our mess* embarasses me. (*the chaos of our daily life) But then I´m reminded of how normal we are. Maybe we just put it all out there more than others. Sometimes I get the impression that we live under a magnifying glass. We are clueless about a lot of things, and we let everyone know. In search of some guidance, perhaps. Looking for tips on how to do this thing right.

The kids are alright. Great, actually. (I just thought of that song-title). They´re changing too fast, of course. Our pixie is learning to speak Spanish now. "Eso no se hace," "¡Qué frio!", and so forth. It is remarkable, but it hasn´t been easy. She bites her nails now, to my despair. Life has been stressful for her. The adjustment to school, to a new house, to a new sister. As much as I try to make things easier for her, I can´t help but feel burdened by the fact that we haven´t given her a simple life. And the gnome. Well, she is just lovely. She follows us around in the house, crawling, and reaching out for us to pick her up.

Anyhow, as I was saying, I wonder how we affect the kids. We, with our wander(&wonder)lust, our endless thinking and re-thinking. Where to? How? We are little Thoreaus, and I wonder if our children will be the same. If they will feel the need to live differently, as well. Part of me hopes that they´ll learn to be content just to live a "normal" life, and not to always be plagued with this yearning for adventure. I´m making it a point to celebrate little things. When I walk to school with Ari, hand in hand...I try to help her notice the nice things on our path. Or maybe she teaches me. She still marvels at things. I want to recover that sense of appreciation for life in its smallest detail. To be thankful.
The more I struggle in my parenting, the more I learn about grace.
I often think of Philip Larkin´s poem, "This be the Verse," but then I remember that this vision of life & parenting is both true and untrue. Life is like that, isn´t it? Clearly, I have a lot left to figure out, but I´m leaning toward the more relativist spectrum.
Stepping into one´s own world of thoughts & beliefs is rather terrifying, but I am starting to see the value of the process. (I am rambling) Reading further complicates it. One starts out with a number of certainties ("well, at least I know that this is true!"), only to end up facing some sort of an existentialist crisis, because this is true, but then so is that..
It´s comforting to have a "kindred spirit," as Anne would put it, to wander alongside me.
"Not all those who wander are lost."

Alas, as we face these questions and doubts, we are learning more about what we do value and pursue. We are so profoundly fortunate to be where we are.

More later. It´s rainy outside. I think I´ll stand by the window for a little while.

Soccer and All

Last night, past midnight, I spent well over an hour on a post re: the World Cup... I tried to explain how it affected me a lot this year, psychologically.... went on and on about multi-culturalism, the complexity of it, of feeling "fractionated" in all of my cultures, my desperate efforts at establishing likeness or otherness (culturally),depending on the circumstances. I shared my surprise at seeing everyone´s obsession with this year´s WC. Then I emphasized the link between soccer and cultural identity. It has nothing to do with the game, blah blah blah.
10 paragraphs later...well, I deleted it. Typical. I am a mess.
Today I have a different topic. I would tell you all about the haircuts I stupidly decided to give the kids yesterday.... how it made me feel like a dumb mother, again. But I´ve gotten over that. And what´s still on my mind, what´s becoming more and more urgent to me, is to find a way to live more deliberately. Several friends have expressed similar wishes.
Daniel and I have been chewing it over for months now. We are not content with life right now. We´re not rich, but that has very little to do with it. We have everything we need to make it through life. But we´re starting to feel so frustrated with society, with the rat-race of life in the Western world. As parents, we´ve had to face the financial pressures, the stress of providing. It has been a good lesson, in many ways. We´re learning so much about ourselves; we are confronted with our lack of organization on a daily basis. We just kind of live from one moment to the next....but are not carefree. We wish. We´ve seen the importance of time-management, yet we can´t seem to get caught up.
Anyhow, we´ve become obsessed with the idea of simplification. I reread Thoreau´s "Walden" the other day and thought, "he had it right. Thoreau knew what he was talking about."
The trouble is that life is all about finding balance, and we are terribly unbalanced. Nothing is in the right place, and we are frustrated. Shouldn´t it be possible to live according to our ideals, our values (to follow our dreams?). A lot of people are trying to convince us that it is not practical...impossible, even. But they´re wrong. I know that they are wrong, because I read about dozens of people who have figured it out. People who run their house just the way they want, others who live in a community of artists somewhere Down Under, mothers who sew their kids´clothes, grow their own carrots, and still find time to dedicate to their own ambitions and development. People find ways to live according to their values....and we want to get to that place.
Daniel is learning the hard way. Years after completing his college degree, he finally realizes that he wants to dedicate his time to music....that he is not content to keep music on the side, as a hobby. Actually, he has discovered that his artistic expression is vital to his well-being. I, too, have found out what I am aiming for, career-wise... but it took several years.

I´ll skip the rant about living in a greener, more environment-friendly, outside-lifestyle, type place. That has been said. Instead, I´ll tell you a bit about my ambitions.
After a very helpful talk with my mother (I did most of the talking, she acted as "life coach," and allowed me to figure out what my goals are by asking the right questions), I have decided that I will, after a lot of hesitation, aim to pursue a PhD-degree in English literature.
I gave up on the idea a good while ago, mainly because I felt incompetent. But I´ve discovered that it´s the only logical road for me. I´ve been trying to find teaching-jobs at international schools for over a year now. Application after application, all turned down. I have no teaching-experience, no qualification. And, more importantly, I don´t really want to teach High School English at all. It would be a nice alternative, something relevant to my goal, but it won´t really direct my steps. I could spend a couple of years teaching English as a second language, or getting a teacher-certification, but that is not what I am aiming for (which is to teach college-level literature and/or do research). I´m not interested in detours....I don´t think they´re necessary.
In other words, I am planning to apply to a PhD-program in the very near future. My mother helped me figure out small, practical steps to prepare for this (so that it´s not so overwhelming). I have resumed my studies of literature, this time at home. It´s ironic, really, that I finally have the inspiration and motivation, but am no longer officially a student!The main task ahead of me is challenging & intimidating: I have to come up with a topic-proposal. It needs to be both relevant to current trends in literary criticism and revolutionary. Wow! Nevertheless, I have a couple of ideas. It´s a matter of reading, studying, re-familiarizing myself with literary criticism, etc. My main interests are Renaissance and Victorian literature. I would like to research the importance of psychology and/or physiognomy in British literature throughout the eras. I have some ideas that might work, but will need to do a lot of research before I can even consider applying to a program and finding a supervisor.
Anyway. It´s nice to finally know for sure what my passion is. To have found a focus. It was much needed.

The children are amazing, by the way. Anika is light, that word came to mind as I was chopping off her precious wild locks. She is nothing but smiles, character, and joy. She is much chubbier than Ari ever was, but looks very much like her. Ari has come very close to killing her, but Anika just smiles and laughs. She is enchanted by her older sister.... Ari is a little elf. She has advanced in her use of Spanish, and we are so impressed by how well she functions in all of her languages. The darling starts school in September: she is over the moon. But I fear it will be a difficult adjustment for all of us. Ari loves dresses, Nemo, and being outside. She is a little bit crazy (like her mother) & keeps us on our toes. She loves to read by herself, enjoys our daily "lees-uurtje" (reading-hour), and is already (not too much to our liking) obsessed with all things pink and princessy. Anika is enjoying solid food, noise, and is slower to sit up and crawl than her sister, though she rolls around and is extremely active. She is the friendliest little gnome you´ll ever meet.
We are overwhelmed with love for our kids, but parenthood has its challenges. Many of them. Most of the time, we fall short. It is on our minds throughout the days, as we struggle to keep up with domestic life. We hope to be well-rounded people for them. Stable. That is our goal, and we have a long way to go. Thankfully, they are resilient. We would like to find a way to give them a childhood full of outdoor experiences, adventure, with an eye and appreciation for the old and little things in life. We want to pursue the simple things, which are the most beautiful.

A Home in Photos

For the first time in many years, all my belongings are in one place (except for, perhaps, a box or two of old barbies & stories written in my elementary school years). It´s all within my reach, and I love that feeling.
My parents have been saints for housing our junk for so long. And my dad organized so much of our things and got everything ready for shipment. We are so grateful to have it all here with us.
But I am in the ugly middle, in the utter chaos, of placement. Of tossing, sorting, and shelving all of our things. I can hardly believe what we have. Some of it is really crap. Straight to the trash. Other things are in purgatory, I suppose: piles of old photos, frames of unfinished wood that I don´t like at all but have yet to declare unsuitable for future use, papers, papers, papers.
I have spent two whole hours with old papers, receipts, pamphlets, etc. It is absolutely exhausting, but necessary if we are to have any order at all in this house. It is the most time-consuming part of home-organizing, but also the most liberating. I sat on the floor and read through old notes from me to Daniel in our High School days......before we had quite figured out that we were going to "be" together. Old scribbles, paintings, school-performance programs, etc.
I looked at the script of "Arsenic and Old Lace," a reminder of my more awkward (if that is possible!) years....trying to figure out whether I wanted to study theater in Seattle (as Charissa eventually did), or opt for a more practical major, instead. And where did that get me?
I gave up on a life-long interest in acting, and decided to pursue a degree in English literature. Alright, I admit that literature is probably a more pronounced passion of mine, and that I might be a more talented reader than actress, but that choice certainly didn´t give me many career-options.
Here I am, at twenty-six, with a useless degree. Useless, because it´s experience that counts, in the end. And I have none. (hence, I have decided that further studies will be necessary if I choose to pursue certain ambitions, but I´ll save that for a later post :-) )
Alas, I sit surrounded by empty and half-empty boxes, by a couple of piles of Daniel´s sci-fi novels, by binders and notebooks, and all I want is time. Time to sort through it all: to put it all in its perfect place. My babies are finally sleeping and I need to put this time to good use.
In a few moments, then, I shall get back to it. I will brave the chaos again, find a few more trash-bags, and make some difficult toss-decisions. De-cluttering (de-clutterization?) is liberating, yes, but it is such a tedious task. It requires all my focus: I can´t do it haphazardly. Hopefully, I will be wise to toss much and keep only those things essential to put our minds and home at rest: select memorabilia, relevant literary articles, notes, & essays for future reference, and clothes that we will actually wear within the next year. (needless to say, we will not be throwing out much of anything from our book- and record-collections.)

When does a person reach that point of saying, "this is home. I shall fill it with the furniture, decorations, and things that perfectly reflect me and my family. no expense shall be spared." ?
Maybe I am just reading the wrong blogs. You see, I always read about these people (strangers) who have set up their homes to perfection. I mean, every last tea-cup is in the perfect place. You know? It incites my envy. I look at their quaint homes, their cool shabby-chic spaces, and I think, "that´s what I want". But part of me knows, even as I take such pride in organizing my shelf-spaces with precision, etc.., that I am not going to be there for a long while. Even if I had the money! It just seems like every tiny detail of their lives is so organized, so perfectly characteristic of who they are.
Ah, what is up with this obsession with expression? I am fascinated.
I might get there one day....years from now. Eventually, I might invest in just the right couch, the perfect family photo-shoot, the painted walls... It certainly appeals to me. But it means permanence. Still, eventually, my house may look like hers:
http://makingitlovely.com/photos/album/72157604302986919/photo/3266987273/library-my-library.html

I guess Daniel and I are just unsettled. In most ways. We don´t have it all figured out. We don´t plan much. No, we are divers. I perhaps even more so than Daniel.
Ha!, we don´t have anything figured out (except for the fact that we are crazily right together, and that our little girls are better than anything we could have ever hoped for). We start dreaming of the next place the moment we set foot in a new house. We might try to unpack everything and set everything up, but in our minds the boxes, the suitcases, are always packed.
We´re finally starting to narrow our career-goals down a little bit. Finally. We are starting to figure out what small steps need to be taken in order for us to reach the bigger goals. But everything in between is so fuzzy. To live in the present, to enjoy the now, is a lesson we have to learn anew almost every single day.

Some of my favorite re-encounters:
*the mug-collection
*the tea-sets*the books (duh)*the mahogany chest! (photo to follow)

Here you have it. My home. For the time being. Visit?

Humble Pie

It turns out the system favors us, too, as we are (who was I kidding?) poor enough, after all. Daniel and I knew something was off when we saw that 85 % of the people of the admission-list (and not-admitted-list, actually) had received the 2 possible points for earnings below a certain amount. We were convinced that we could not possibly be earning more than the majority of other families in this neighborhood. So, I did some research, dug into our old tax-papers, made a few calculations, and headed to the school to "reclamar": we deserved those points, and I was going to demand a correction. It worked.

We were given the extra 2 points that were due, and Ari was bumped up on the list. She made it to the top of the not-admitted list, and the principal had already explained that about 8 or 9 of those kids would still make it into the school (from the top of the not-admitted list). So, little Boo is now officially on the to-register list! YAY! Three weeks from now, we will have to do the real registration.

The system may still be unfair. But, we are on the side of the privileged, and I should have been complaining about the system´s inefficiency, rather than whining about how we are too rich to get any benefits in this country. Hahaha. I feel rather like an idiot, and will certainly do a bit more thinking before I write.. Next time. I hope.

When the kids and I went to the school to look at the revised admission-list, and I saw Ari´s name on the good list, I said a loud, "YAY," and Ari picked up on my enthusiasm. She probably thought it would be her school all along, because we had previously been there for a tour, and we were more hopeful back then. Before all the registration-mess.

Yesterday, as we waited in the playground by the business-park where Daniel works, Ari said, "Ari´s go to school.. Ari´s listen to teacher and pay (play). Ari´s get a new backpack. Mama won´t see me." It made me a bit teary-eyed to see how well she seems to understand the adjustment that is ahead. She´s a perceptive little kid. So, I pushed her swing, and told her about all the fun things that she will learn... and that Mama will go to work, but then Mama or Papa will pick her up from school, pick Anika up from the baby-school, and then we´ll play in the park, and then we´ll eat together. She seemed to like the idea.

Mommy-Wars and Grayness

In my experience, the longer you live (or, specifically, the longer you "mother"), the grayer your opinions become. You follow?

There is a phenomenon called "Mommy Wars," and it is a very popular topic of discussion on the mothering-blogs that I read. Most of the issues mothers rant and rave about on their blogs, in their mothering-communities, and to uninterested (pitied!) bystanders, fall into the category of "mommy wars". In fact, almost every decision a mother makes, every mundane decision regarding childcare, has been chewed over and scrutinized by a legion of mothers across the globe. Say, for instance, that someone tells you that it is perfectly alright to put the parts of your baby´s bottle in the dishwasher. You are relieved to hear that you will no longer have to worry about the tedious task of boiling it all to sterilize the bottle for future use. Then, you make the mistake of looking it up online. As soon as you google "clean baby bottle," your confidence goes out the window. Apparently, about four-thousand other mothers claim that dishwashers ruin the bottle-parts, and you should never opt for that easy way out. Or your child will become terribly ill, your bottle-parts will break, and there are about a million things that could go wrong if you´ve chosen to go the dishwasher-route.
The same is true for: heating water in microwave, pacifier versus thumb, letting baby sleep in baby-swing, crib-protectors.... so on and so on.

And those are just the little decisions. When it comes to "working mother versus stay-at-home mother," the mommy-war is truly vicious.
The insecurities of mothers are big business.

Anyway, it is the work-issue that I was thinking about this morning (because of an article I read on a mothering-website, incidentally).

What got me thinking more about this issue, beside the fact that I am in the middle of that decision, is that I have changed my mind very drastically. Similarly, I am less adamant about every other aspect of motherhood, simply because experience has taught me that there really are two sides to every story.

I am not going to into all the pros and cons of both camps (the working-mothers versus the stay-at-home mothers: whether one is either better for the kids, or easier for the mother). But I wanted to say just how much I´ve been confronted with the fact that things are a heck of a lot "grayer" than I used to think. Things aren´t so simple: it´s not really fair to judge someone for their decision, especially if we haven´t been in their particular place. Sure, I still have some strong opinions regarding what is best for my children, or for my own life, but I am (SLOWLY!) learning to step back and look at an issue from all possible angles before charging ahead on one side of the battlefield.

The New Abode

Inevitably, moving into a new house is always followed by a string of little discoveries: you become acquainted with all the little idiosyncrasies of your new home. Yes, a house is rather like a person.
First impressions count when it comes to houses (as they do with people), but it takes time to discover the little things that you either like or dislike about your new residence. The creaks of certain doors, your neighbors´bad taste in music, the lack of light in certain rooms, bad water-pressure (a pet-peeve), closet-doors that don´t open easily....

But, there is much to love about this place. It is neither luxurious nor notably spacious, but I had a feeling that it would prove very livable. And it has.This is why:

*Closet-space: this place boasts so much storage-space! we´ve accumulated so much stuff throughout the years, that the space-issue was a not only a plus, but a prerequisite. it has helped us get organized.
*Windows: (possibly related to the fact that I come from a country of houses with big windows) I love windows. The living-room has a wall of windows, and I could not be more delighted. It stormed the other night, and I just sat there....on the couch, looking at the grey and restless sky.

*Book-wall: the living-room has a wall of built-in shelving. Perfect for book-hoarders. My boxes of books will arrive several weeks from now, and I am thrilled to have the shelf-space to display them.
*Balcony: this is directly related to the space-thing. We have an enclosed balcony, not wide (or sunny) enough for plants, and not suitable as a hang-out place, but it is just what I needed to manage the laundry. My laundry-rack sits there, out of our way, dry when necessary, and in the fresh air when the weather permits (all I have to do is open 1 or 2 windows). Moreover, it, too, has a closet for miscellany. It serves as a laundry-room, shed, and pantry.

*The fourth bedroom, now an office/music-room. We thought of using this open room (connected to our living-room) as a dining-room, but decided it had more potential. Daniel convinced me that it could be put to better use, and it now holds his music-collection. Once our wooden chest, black chair, and woolly brown checkered rug arrive from Holland, this room will be well on its way to becoming the coziest nook on this side of the Atlantic.
I´ve lived in many houses. There have been prettier ones, two (one in SC, the other just down the street) with splendid terrace/porch-spaces.... However, I have never before been quite so happy with how I´ve been able to organize my belongings. Shelves, drawers, etc. Everything in its right place. We´ve had to be creative, but it works wonderfully. (i.e. one of our 2 bath-tubs now hides our 3 laundry-hampers. the hampers sit in the tub, and all I have to do is open the tub´s sliding doors, and voila!, there are the 3 color-coordinated hampers. Out of sight. By the way, it took me about 2 hours of scrubbing and complaining to discover that, 1, it would not work as a bath (FILTHY!), and, thus, 2, it needed an alternative function. Who needs 2 bathtubs, anyway???). How is that for looking on the bright side?

And then there´s the neighborhood. I already knew I loved it when I moved here several years ago. But now, having returned here, I see just how excellent it is.

* little shops: there are dozens of little shops within walking-distance. Dozens. Meat-shops, flower-shops, the movie-rental place, travel-agency, peluquerias, bars, coffee-shops, banks, book-stores, "chinos", bakeries, shoe-menders, fish/vegetable-shops, pharmacies, electronics, et cetera.

and, could it get any better?:
* I can walk from my apartment-building to each and every one of these places without getting rained on or scorched by the sun, when necessary. My building connects to the other 20-some buildings in the neighborhood through covered walk-ways. We can sit at a table outside a bar, have a coffee or two, and Ari can run around in sight. It is ideal for people with kids and strollers.

En fin. There is plenty to do before it will feel "just right", and it´s not the house of our dreams, but we are quite at ease here.