Plum Worn Out

Too sleepy to finish his plum.

There is No Meantime

It’s the 8-month mark for Benjamin! Can you believe it? Life is drastically changing since he has started crawling. We’re finally getting that sense of, “Wow, this is way different than having just one,” that everyone warned us about. Poor Shane has basically given up on house chores. So, don’t be offended if we don’t invite you over for the next 6 months or so. Benjamin is desperately wanting to walk and we’re wondering if he’ll be ready for his first steps in the next couple of months. He pulls himself up with one hand now and tests himself by letting go. But his upper body is just too big for his chubby legs to hold, I think.

Oliver grew a few inches I think. And he learned to hit a baseball (plastic) without the tee this month. We’ve found that he does better when he’s not under pressure. He has terrific natural instincts and is very physically capable…except when everyone is watching him or you ask him to do it. Then he buckles and suddenly can’t perform. Shane says he was/is the same way. It’s wonderful to realize more about yourself by watching your kid. It sure helps you know how to respond and encourage them the right way. I love how humble Oliver is, and if he doesn’t want to perform he doesn’t have to. I don't blame him. I just hope he gains more confidence in himself and realizes he is gifted and has much to offer the world.

I feel like a lot has happened in one month. I started to write in my journal every Saturday to recap the week, because I think there are some important events in life I too soon forget. Every week is so different and it’s neat to see how life progresses in small events.

This week was especially intense. Our friend, Emad, from church is a refugee from Iraq and has lived in the U.S. for a couple years now. He gave a young man a ride home from a 7-Eleven on Monday. When he stopped the car the guy attacked Emad with an iron bar and hit him over the head several times. Emad got out of the car and the guy ran after him hitting him some more until onlookers scared him away. He was able to give a report of the incident but then later lost his memory.  It was strange visiting him in the hospital and he not recognize us. He didn’t even remember his own son who is Oliver’s age. Thankfully the blows did not break his skull and he’s slowly starting to remember some things. Please say a prayer for him. He has been through a lot as it is since coming to the States.

 Our friend, Amy, got hit and run over by a truck at a crosswalk downtown on Tuesday. I believe she is still in the hospital, but amazingly did not have any broken bones or internal bleeding. She is in a lot of pain and her wounds and the trauma will take months to heal. She has come so far in recovery in the past few days. Everyone is amazed by her strength and heart through all of this.

The strange thing is that Emad and Amy are friends. Amy and her husband, Brent, started the non-profit in Spokane that helps refugees called Global Neighborhood. It’s so strange to have two friends go through completely different traumatic events in two days time.

(Brent and Emad)

My problems seem so small that’s it’s ridiculous to even mention that I’m burnt out from work and freelancing and being a mom and wife. I am completely exhausted. I really want to help Shane clean the house this weekend...but not really. Today we’re going to check out this house we’re interested in that’s about 40 minutes away (are we crazy?). Then we might do more thrift store shopping (I wish Global Neighborhood Thrift was open!). Then we have a house-warming party this afternoon for some friends. I think we’re skipping church tomorrow to have a day of no activity and rest. We considered a trip to Shane’s home for his dad’s birthday, but that would probably just exhaust us more.

I wish I had more time to blog because there are some fun things I’d like to share and wish I could write more than just updates like this. But life is intense these days and I don’t feel like sharing frivolous things when life isn’t frivolous. It’s amazing and changing and hard.

Benjamin is 7 months. Oliver is taller.

Benjamin's physical and mental growth was significant this month. He's really starting to become his own person. Not only did he learn to scoot around on his belly (he's trying so hard to get his legs under him so he can crawl!), but he's learning to eat solids as well (that crazy tongue gets in the way sometimes). One significant change is that when I leave for work he cries and when I come home he gets so excited and yells and reaches for me. That feels amazing. He missed me! He has been sleeping in our bed a lot at night which I actually love sinse I'm away from him during the day. A couple days ago he learned that he can make a new noise. This might be hard to explain...He moves his arm up and down over his mouth while he yells so he makes a Native American war call sound. Haha. We started doing it to him first because he yells so much and he seemed to like it. And now he can do it by himself! Isn't it funny how the small things are easy to get excited about with babies? It's an amazing process to watch them learn and try new things.

One thing we always have to be on our toes about now is keeping small objects and paper out of his way since he is officially mobile. He manages to get hold of pieces of paper and completely shred them. He's like a puppy. He drools all over everything, chews on stuff, is really noisy, gets excited when you walk in the door and prefers to sleep in your bed as opposed to his own. :) But what puppy can make an Indian war call, right??

I'm not sure you can count "Dada" as a first word when he's been saying it for a couple months now. It's more like "D" was his first consonant he mastered. I'm working on "Mama." He mostly yells. And makes that "pbpbpbpbpbpbpbpb" sound with his lips. It's cutest when you catch him talking quietly to himself while he's playing. I wonder what he's pretending. :)

Oliver is changing as well. He's growing so tall that we had to dish out for some new clothes this month. Both grandmas helped out in this department not knowing it was the perfect time! Oliver is a very serious young man and his feelings get hurt pretty easily. It's a hard balance to be firm with a child during a melt down but still express understanding and show grace because he's still so little. He deeply loves Benjamin and makes him laugh easily by jumping on the bed and running crazy around the house. You can tell Benjamin wants to run and jump with him when he gets so excited and squeals. They'll be a cute pair when Ben finds his legs. Oliver sometimes has a hard time sharing toys. He doesn't like all the drool I think. He has learned he is no longer the center of attention and handles it like a big boy.  I hate having to say, "I'm sorry I can't play, I'm feeding Benjamin. But I will play when I'm done." I so want him to know that I love being with him and he is just as important. I suppose sharing and sacrifice is a good lesson for all children to learn at an early age. It's just extra hard to tell what's going on in Oliver's head because he doesn't often express it.

Oliver, our introverted, intellectual, grown-up little boy.
Benjamin, our loud, social, ball of energy and giggles.
They're meant to be together.

Short story: Oliver has been playing with my French phrase and dictionary pocketbook a lot. He opened it up the other day (upside-down) and said,

"I'll read you a story.
God died.
Then God is alive!
Then God went into the water with the fish and the whales and the sharks!
The end."

Well, that's a new angle of the Easter story if I've ever heard one!

My 3 year old

Oliver is 3 now. He's so big! And so little.

Three is the age I started to retain memories of life.
My dad says he remembers his kids most when we were two and three.
There's a sweet innocence and an excitement for life and learning.
People say that time flies and your kids are grown before you know it. But I don't exactly feel like these last few years have flown by. Instead I feel like Oliver has always been a part of my life. My life before him is so distant and seems decades ago. The girl I was before him seems so vastly different. My emotions, my motives, my strongest desires have changed.

One thing I realized this past week is that I used to think I knew what intense emotion was. I used to think I knew what it was like to experience love and attachment to its fullest. But I had NO IDEA the intensity of emotion and love I would experience when becoming a parent. It's the kind of intensity you can die from. That's how it feels. It's amazing. And it started with Oliver 3 years ago. My existence will never be the same.

I'm yours forever, Oliver.

Happenings at Home.

As some of you know, Shane's sister, Amanda has been living with us as she transitions after 5 years of living and teaching math in Indonesia. I know it has been difficult for her to depend on us as she looks for a job and not be able to help provide. But she has provided in unique ways and blessed our family every day that she has been here. She has made herself especially at home in our kitchen baking delicious treats and throwing together fantastic meals. And she has kept my floors swept more frequently than I ever have! She's a pro at keeping up on dishes and laundry and I'm afraid she's spoiling Shane. He has had a lot of opportunities to work on projects in the garage and keep up with the lawn because Amanda is available to watch Oliver. Oliver's knowledge of numbers has improved significantly and to top it all off he is learning a second language! He uses Indonesian words frequently throughout the day and I can't keep up with him!

I came home from work the other day and he greeted me by showing me a scratch on his foot and saying what sounded like, "suck it! suck it! suck it!" I looked at him bewildered and asked Amanda and Shane, "Ok, who told Oliver to tell me to suck his foot??" They started laughing and told me that he was actually saying "Sakit" which means "hurt" or a wound. Hilarious. I'm not sure when he'll ever use Indonesian...but he picks it up so quickly and I'm just glad he's learning another language! It's amazing that he understands these are different words and that they have English equivalents (sort of). How does his little brain know the difference between two languages?

On another cute note, Oliver seems very aware that baby will be arriving any day now. He has this little book called "I'm a Big Brother," and it's practically the ONLY book he wants to read the past 3 days. We have already read it 6 times today. And yesterday we read it 7 times. He has memorized it and does not get bored with it. It's like he's trying to mentally prepare for a baby and he wants to understand his role. I am most looking forward to Oliver meeting our new son. It's what cheers me on as we take walks and wait for labor to begin. Hopefully the next blog will be announcing the arrival of Some Really Cute Name We Haven't Picked Yet!

Just a few of the treats Amanda has made for us:

Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so far away.

This is what I came home to yesterday after my slew of emotions. I couldn't even get to the door. We played with the tricycle until we got cold. Go here to see the rest of the photos.

I'm blue.

My heart is a little achy today. It started last night as I lay Oliver down for bed and he didn't want me to leave his side until he fell asleep. So I just laid there as he played with my hands and murmured "Mommy. Mommy." until his eyes closed and his breathing grew deep. I bawled as silently as I could. And I prayed, "Lord if there is any way I can be a stay-at-home mom again, please make a way." That's the first time I've prayed that or even said it out loud since I started my job at UGM. I love my job and the people I work with and how it has connected me to Spokane. I love how much I've learned about serving the poor and homeless. I love the passion it has given me for others. But there is one thing I hate: being away from Oliver. But I am SO blessed to have a job that will allow me to work from home two days of the week. Otherwise I might not have lasted this long. I am thankful, but I am aching. And I suppose that ache has always been there, but suddenly I can't hold it back and be strong anymore. I've spoken to Shane twice today on the phone and both times he says that Oliver keeps saying, "Mommy, home. Mommy, home." Surely Shane knows this is killing me and making my eyes water and be unproductive! I don't know what's going to happen. Because I don't see myself leaving this job for some time. But I just want my family and friends to know that if there is one thing not so great in my life right now...it's that mother-child separation that people go through at different times in their life. I was hoping I wouldn't experience that pain until he left for college...or even his first day of school. But not now when he's barely able to utter sentences. How am I supposed to stay strong anymore?


Well, my supervisor just walked in and saw me crying. Not what I wanted to happen...but it opened up a really good conversation. I am thankful to have people around me who are so supportive and understanding. I am thankful that I work in an environment where I can comfortably be honest. He asked if I needed to do something. I told him I am not going to do anything right now because I know I'm where I'm supposed to be. I have no plans to leave my job. But I am glad he knows how I feel. It makes it easier than holding it all in. We'll see what sort of changes take place in the future, but right now I cannot see what those changes will be.

Snippets of Christmas

Here are a few unique elements from our Christmas day. (Click here to see the rest of the photos)

My Indonesian Experience

October 15, 2009

It's only Thursday, but who knows when I'll have time to reflect and tell my story of Indonesia when we return. Just one more day here, one more in Singapore then we return to America.

I am barely able to stay awake on this couch in Amanda's apartment with the mosques trying to sing me to sleep. Five times a day they try to sing me to sleep. They're hard to get used to, but it's a neat reminder that I'm in another culture altogether. Within the guarded walls of a Christian school it can feel comfortable and normal until I look up at the coconut trees and tile roofs. But once we step outside the gates, all the motor bikes, carts full of crops and dark, curious faces make my heart thump with excitement. I am outnumbered. I am lost. Thankfully Amanda is practically fluent in the language and knows these streets in the dark. But "Mari" and "Ma'af" and "Tirama kasi" connect me enough to all the questioning passersby. They nod and smile and come close to touch Oliver's soft, white skin. He's universally irresistible. He makes me seem approachable and safe. He's my free pass to just about anywhere.

My first impression of Indonesia was the crowded streets of staring faces and the amazingly new kind of traffic. It's amazing because there are no rules other than staying on the left, yet the drivers are so aware and in control. I felt very unexpectedly safe.

October 23, 2009

I finished half of an article in the Voices of the Martyrs newsletter and suddenly felt the urge to continue my story of Indonesia. Those 10 days of Asian cultural exposure awakened something in me I don't think I'll ever be able to let go. My stomach flutters at the thought of seeing more of this continually amazing world. And more than that...I long to live dangerously for my faith. I don't mean that in a naive, romantic-missionary way. I mean that this trip opened my perspective of spirituality and what it means to live whole-heartedly for whatever you believe in.

If I could pick out pieces of this trip to show you, it would be the way it looks to walk down the streets on Java island, the constant spiritual awareness of the culture, the simple yet struggling way of life, and the most amazing coffee I have ever tasted.

Perhaps the reason the streets stand out so much to me is because that is how you get anywhere any day and so that is what I saw most of. Almost everyone owns a motor bike. It's apparently the most efficient way to get around, and to transport your goods, believe it or not. Whether you need to move your furniture to a new home, your crops to the market or your family of five to the nearest mosque, the motor bike will do the trick. And if you see someone along the way who needs a lift, pile them on top. A piece of wisdom I picked up from this trip is: You can always fit one more. I experienced this my first day in Salatiga when we took the angkot to the market (a van with bench seats along the windows so that passengers sit in facing each other). The four of us climbed in when there were already five other passengers in the back. I couldn't help but smile the whole ride as we somehow fit more and more in. And I loved the fact that when I was explaining to Amanda that I felt like this was a ride in a circus clown car that possibly no one in the whole van could understand my language. Suddenly I was a foreigner....and I spoke a cool and different language! I became very aware of the sounds my mouth made wondering how they sound to the Indonesians who keep staring at me.

The next thing I noticed was the open commitment to faith. A young man sitting beside me held a pocket version of either the Koran or the Holy Bible. Two other women in the bus wore head coverings and long dresses. And five times a day(often more than that) voices from all the mosques in the community would call the Muslims to prayer. Instead of feeling separate from these others who held tightly to a different belief than mine...I felt somehow closer to them than ever before. I don't have any Muslim friends or ever get to talk to Muslims. I've only heard about the faith from books or radio or television or school or friends who have been to or live in Muslim communities. It was a surprise to feel such a strong connection to these people. And I think it's because I too live by faith. And our two faiths are similar in many ways. The Jewish and Christian faiths are at the roots of Islam. We are like brothers and sisters who are now walking in different directions praying the others will change direction. I am now hoping to learn more about Islam. Maybe take a class or befriend someone who either is Muslim or used to be. I'm thankful to have experienced and understand better this new connection.

Beyond the outward religious appearance of this part of Indonesia, I learned about the spiritual awareness that is a part of every day life. And by that, I mean the cultural traditions and experiences that include praying to spirits, bodily possession of spirits, physical displays and interactions with spirits. It's not ridiculous or dramatic in this culture. It's everywhere. From the spirit trees that no one dares to cut down to entertaining audiences with demonic-possession. It is a very real and interesting aspect of this place that I wish I could have learned more about. I will have to live vicariously through Abbie (a teacher at Amanda's school and my new Facebook friend!) who's similar interest in this spiritual culture is captured with incredible photography and documentation.

One of my favorite parts of the trip was getting to move outside of busy streets to fields and farms. We walked along footpaths through rice fields and small farms. Saying "Mari" to the workers and chidlren at play. "Turan, turan?" (which means sightseeing) they would ask. Yeah...just looking at your fields and yards and homes and children and animals. They seemed to like our interest in their home. What amazed me is that they harvested all their crops by hand or by plow pulled by water buffalo. This raw, dirty labor is an expected and normal way of life. And watching them made me want to get soil under my nails.

November 22, 2009

I suppose the last aspect I want to tell you about is my coffee experience. It was like inviting myself on a National Geographic or PBS documentary. I took the tours of plantations and stood in the forest of coffee trees breathing in the Jasmine scent of their blossoms and picking the little red beans. I saw them roast the beans over the fire. Then they let us sit under a pavilion with the mountains and tree tops to stare at while we sipped the freshly-brewed coffee in little glasses; coffee grounds soaking in the bottom. On the table was a dish holding shiny, black beans and another holding flakes of palm sugar. Our guide told us you eat the two together. I can't blame my excitement on caffeine. It was the whole atmosphere and experience...and the fact that the coffee I was tasting was indeed the best to have ever passed my lips. I was on the island of Java...and the coffee is no myth. The plantation gave us little bags of the powdery grounds to take back, and it disappeared too quickly. Thankfully, I was able to buy green beans at the second plantation to roast myself at home. Two pounds for $2 US. I couldn't stop grinning. I haven't roasted them yet, since my in-laws left a huge can of Folgers sitting regretfully on my coffee bar. But I love the way my 2 bags of green coffee beans remind me of my Indonesian gift of true experience.

I will close this blog with a quote from a book I am reading called Cross Cultural Connections. It refers to a short-term stay in a foreign country and the slight culture shock you might receive upon return to your home country. The author refers to one's background culture as square, and a foreign culture as circle. "You find mild disappointment in your home culture, but in a couple of weeks the busyness of life consumes you and many of your feelings and thoughts become submerged in being square again." It's a bittersweet time as I reflect on my trip. I wish I could have had the opportunity to become more "circle". It was almost too easy to come home to the American society. I know Indonesia left a mark on me. I just don't know exactly what it looks like and I hope it doesn't fade.

To see photos of this trip visit my facebook album #1 and album #2.


PS - The most common question people ask me about this trip is "How did Oliver do?"
He did great. GREAT. We were complimented over and over on how well-behaved and mellow he was. I think he was made for traveling; or at least adapting. The new faces and scenery were really good for him. He thrives on new experiences. It's sort of scary that he's okay with running off in a different direction without looking back once. But it helps my mother heart to know he is NOT comfortable in strangers' arms. The women especially were drawn to Oliver's angelic looks and couldn't help but stroke his cheeks and blond hair. But he didn't necessarily have the same interest in their skin color and hair. He just wanted to run through their streets and fields. Keep it up Oliver, and you will experience more than I could ever imagine for you.

...for those who are still reading....

PPS - Our very last day of vacation we spent in Singapore with a college friend, Mar, who was able to spend the day showing us what makes Singapore strange, unique and...well...Singapore. I have a hard time knowing what to say about it. It happened so fast, and we saw and learned so much. Tall buildings, mega malls, we talked about politics, the crazy strict laws, we saw China town and little India. We ate really great food for really cheap. But the best part was getting to know Mar more than we had the chance to when we all attended JBU. He's got a huge, honest heart and speaks up when necessary for what is right. He has a hardcore belief system yet the patience and contentment to be used by God wherever he is in life. We hope to see you in the states again, Mar. And if not...I'm sure there's more of Singapore we haven't seen. :) I'm up for seeing Bali too!

Little Oli.

Oliver.

I like how the tops of your ears slightly stick out. Like mine.
I like how your eyes look amazing when you wear blue.
I can't help but give in when you take my hand and drag me to wherever you want to play.
All I want to do is make you happy and I fight the urge when I know the best thing for you only brings disappointment.
Every little tear of yours pulls me apart inside.
Every giggle makes me feel like a queen and reassures me we're doing okay.
Somehow you hold my entire vault of emotions in the palm of your small hand.
You make me feel completely strong and able, yet completely vulnerable and incapable.
I anticipate and fear your future.
I yearn for your affection, but want more than anything for you to share it with others.
I love the mystery and the contradiction life reveals as I learn to be your mother.

Oliver
originally posted by .hello foto

super me. little me.

I’m forcing myself to take 10 minute breaks, late morning and early afternoon, instead of just truckin’ through the day with just a 30 minute lunch to keep me going. Hopefully I can use this time to get my head out of my work world and maybe update this blog????

Well, I thought I’d at least say one thing. Yesterday I felt like a super woman. Super mom, super wife, super employee. The last 2 weeks (probably longer than that) I’ve been so drained with work and as a result a complaining/nagging wife and a boring/unplayful mom. Well yesterday I finally printed a rough draft of a HUGE project (that will change EVERYTHING as UGM knows itself), so I think that’s why I was able to be so super. After only 5 hours of sleep, I went to work for 6 hours, came hope, went on a much needed shopping trip with my boys, left Shane on the couch with a headache that he suffered since morning, made spaghetti and fresh salad for dinner, played with Oliver inside and outside the house, did some laundry, took out the trash, had coffee with Jonathan, tucked Oliver in, and even stayed up to spend some quality time with Shane. All this with joy and enthusiasm and an attitude of thankfulness. HOW ON EARTH DID THAT HAPPEN???

Is there a magic button so I can be like this anytime I want to? Don't you wish.

Honestly…the Lord is my strength. There is no way every I can be like that when I want to be. In fact, usually when I put the pressure on myself to be like that…it gets ugly. God, thank you for pulling me through and helping me fit so many roles and a support so many people. It’s enough to have a family of my own who needs me….but to think of all the people that are depending on my skills at work. All the homeless…all the employees...the community. God, it’s you. YOU make this happen, and you’re always using me SOMEHOW to better lives of others and this world. Measly, complainy, tired little me. Thank you.

Meet Oliver.

A little over a year ago Oliver Jackson Morgan was conceived. Jackson is the middle name of his grandfather and late great grandfather. Oliver means "Olive Tree". So does Olive, my grandma's name, and Olivia, my older sister's name. In Scandinavian, which is a big part of his heritage on his father's side, his name means "kind; affectionate."

Oliver is my firstborn and he's only been out of my womb for almost 6 months. I'm sooo new at this.

I am more proud of him than any other accomplishment in life. And if there is one thing I have learned from being his mother thus far, it is that I am really important and totally insignificant at the same time. He has revealed more levels of my humanity than anything else. A talent most likely inherited from his father. :P Actually it's probably just the experience of marriage and parenthood together that make me feel so human. Isn't it weird that it takes something so natural and common in life to convince us we aren't invincible and immortal? This little big-eyed world wonder falls into my lap and suddenly my life is under a magnifying glass. Both my strengths and my flaws are bigger than the mountains I live in. It's no longer the big things that matter in life....EVERYTHING matters.

I'm mainly keeping this blog to regularly update friends and family on little Oliver, and also to talk and reflect on what I am learning as a new mother.

I've broken most of the book rules of new parenthood. I frequently nurse Oliver to sleep for naps and bedtime. I don't brush his gums twice a day. We don't have a set wake-up time (or a set schedule at all for that matter). I'm a breastfeeding mother who drinks coffee and occasionally a glass of wine. Shane takes showers with him, and when he does take baths we don't use a baby seat. And we let him sit and watch movies with us (covering his eyes for the scary scenes of course). So I guess one of the biggest things I've learned so far is that the books are just suggestions. Don't take them to heart and soak them up....be a filter, not a sponge, as I frequently say in life. Because there's no way everyone is right about everything. And every home has its different needs and adjustments to changes such as parenthood.

Our home is particularly one that cannot be compared to "normal" homes. We live in the back woods of Idaho on a Christian horse ranch currently not in use. (In fact it may or may not be sold in the next few months, so who knows where we could be moving to next?) When I say back woods I seriously mean it. We're on 144 acres right on the edge of a huge National Forest. Shane and I are both stay-at-home parents since Shane's job is to take care of the ranch. Sometimes we wonder how this sort of home will affect him in the long run. How awesome is it that he has both mom and dad to teach him, care for him and play with him all day long!

The recent Oliver news:

He's rolling over from back to tummy all the time now. If put on his hands and knees he can balance for about 30 seconds to a minute. He's learning he has large lungs that can produce loud squeals and babbles. He knows when we're upset with him and sticks out his bottom lip. He's starting to recognize familiar faces, and resist strange faces. He's recently obsessed with his own hands and he rotates them and slowly wiggles them in front of his wide eyes. He absolutely adores his own image in the mirror. He's easy to make laugh and loves to play rough. He's content for longer periods of time when he's outdoors. Ever since he was a newborn he has loved to stare at the trees. He now likes to pet Festis, the barn cat and I think considers him a dear friend. He smiles and talks at the pretty ladies in movies. And finally, his favorite words are: "ehhhhhmbAH" "pbtpbtpbt" and "amamama."

Here are a couple recent shots of our Father's Day fishing trip. We lost 3 lures and caught zero fish but had a blast.