Flat Selia comes to Orchlon

We've been long awaiting her arrival...
and today, Flat Selia arrived here at school. Yay! She came from Taiwan about a month ago, and was stuck in the post office for a while (busy being feted by the friendly staff there!). Today Tseegi egch picked her up and brought here to my office.

The ninth graders had fun showing her around the school in various groups. First, they went to the gym and played some sports together...

Cuddled up

What I wrote Sunday morning:

My 2 babies, all snuggled up together and sleeping peacefully. So beautiful. Thank you Lord.

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"a daily struggle"

LOVE Ann Voskamp's blog posts, which I get in my email.

Today was introduced to a new 'friend'--and her adoption story felt so real, I want to be able to find it again. http://www.leavingitallonthefield.com

The way she writes about parenting is the way that I feel too--feeling inadequate, not wanting to sacrifice "me" for what my kids and husband need... (Not saying it's always bad to think of ourselves, but often it's the right and better choice to put consistency and training before doing what I want at that moment... )

Off to class~!

last paragraph of her blog post:
We continue to wrestle with feelings of inadequacy as parents. It is a daily struggle to lay down ourselves and make the sacrifices necessary in raising a large family. We are hopeful that there is a little girl from China in our future, but we know that God may have a different plan. Regardless of how the details unfold, God has opened our eyes to the suffering of these precious little souls and we cannot turn away. He is our perfect family planner. 

Winter "Break"

Ah, a more relaxed schedule!

Today is the first day of Winter Break. Well, it's a break for the students... except those that are preparing for the local district Olympiads and other school competitions. They are here at school, hard at work on practice materials.

Mongolian teachers are also at work, finishing grades and working on planning.

I'm here too--I've grades to finish as well and also want to help out with the students getting ready for the English Olympics. One of the Mongolian teachers has more experience and materials for them, but I'll check their writing and hope I can give them some pointers in that area. Essay questions tend to be quite general and often have a pretty short word-count, so they probably shouldn't be too flowery in their writing. There's not the space. ;)

We all had a good weekend this past weekend: Javkhaa did some grocery shopping, we all (finally!) got to church at the same time ;) and spent yesterday afternoon with Javkhaa's family. His parents made "piroshki", which are yummy, deep fried dumplings made with yeast dough and a meat and cabbage mixture inside. Mmmm! Thanks to the Russians for such a good recipe. ;)

more to come--my English teaching colleagues are stretching! ;)

****

ahh!!!! so good!

I've been having periodic neck pain for the last few months and Saturday night it got quite severe. Yesterday I actually went to a Mongolian natural medicine doctor highly recommended by my sister-in-law. Waited in the corridor for almost one hour; there were lots of toddlers there to be seen, and a few adults as well. He massaged my neck a bit and put on some warming gels and it helped somewhat. I think I just need to stretch more (and more regularly!) and... hopefully that will help. The exercises we just did were great! :)

Summer 2012 pics

The Preschool Christmas/New Year's Show, 2012

our little princess ;)

and our little Santa's helper...

above, at the end of a dance to the "Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho" song... I guess they were dwarves ;)
(last pic in this blog has a video of this)

(with Grandpa)

Josiah is the Santa on the left (shorter)

Josiah is the little guy last in line. :)

Thoughts after Thanksgiving

We are so remiss in not having written in such a long time. Life sure didn’t slow down for us after we moved to Mongolia! Perhaps life in the countryside of Mongolia is a little less hectic, but we are living here in the capital, and thankful to be here!


Our Thanksgiving was nice, though not quite like ‘home’. I (Skye) am the ‘keeper of the culture,’ I suppose (well, the American culture, while we’re living elsewhere) and now we’ve just started our 2nd year of being back here in Mongolia. Last year Thanksgiving was a simple candlelit meal at home on the day itself. This year we repeated that tradition, but also invited Javkhaa’s family to come on Sunday for Thanksgiving too. Cooking for more than just our family on the one burner we have in this apartment was an adventure, but it all turned out okay. The plan for Christmas, though: a one-pot meal! (Yes, that worked out much better—I made Chuckwagon Stew, mmm. Perhaps a new Christmas tradition! :)

If you know Javkhaa, you won’t be surprised when I say that he’s busier than me. Between work, church, the Christian Youth Association (Future Leaders) and a couple of other groups he’s involved with, he stays a moving target. We remain very thankful for his job, and he works with some great people. It hasn’t been without its stressful seasons, though. He needs God’s wisdom and help to persevere and pursue excellence in all he does, to enjoy it, and to shine God’s love into his workplace. Pray that he and a few colleagues can make time for another prayer breakfast soon. (I’d love to find another believer at my school too!)

Busy but trying...

Had a great day on Saturday, despite being a little stressed. The ladies from our lifegroup had planned to get together, and I was trying to organize little gift bags for everyone. Of course the stationery store was closed on the very day I needed it...

Despite that little roadblock, we had a nice afternoon at a local Indian restaurant, talking and chatting and getting to know each other a little better. We missed those who couldn't make it though: one mom whose about ready to give birth to her 3rd, a mom of twins who had just moved and couldn't get away, and another woman who was sick with a fever. :/ Please pray that next time we'll be all be able to participate!

This week grades are due (Wednesday). At least I did give all my exams last week, but most student work has yet to be graded. :/ So... a busy couple of days ahead (not to mention all the planning that remains to be done, both short- and long-term!).

Thanksgiving was a lovely day. Just a quiet evening at home for our second time around here in Mongolia, which is actually a tradition I like. :) Since it's a work-day, it's more relaxing to just prepare smth for ourselves on Thursday night, but this year we invited Javkhaa's family over for Sunday 'dinner' to celebrate as well. It was a fun day. :) For Christmas, though, I need to think of a festive 'one-pot' meal, because it's a challenge to keep things warm with only one burner in our current apartment! ;) I'm thinking of a recipe I have for "Chuckwagon Stew": takes a little extra time to prepare, but it sure is yummy!

That's all for now, back to planning!

(and yes, I am a little bit homesick at this time of year...) sniff sniff!

Thank Him for the grace... ever present in time of need

A new blog I came across this morning in my search for some encouraging verses to share with the mom's in our lifegroup... :)

My laundry sometimes piles high. So do my dishes. There are way too many crumbs on my floor. And I didn’t actually grade anyone’s math homework today. But this morning, before the day really began, I lit a candle and prayed for God’s grace to fill my home. I made leaf-print art with the kids on the front porch, worked out with a friend, and drove my son and a neighbor to youth group … an hour away. At bedtime we read a story and snuggled, even though it was late. And right now I should be sweeping the living room, but instead I’m writing.

And that’s kind of the rhythm of my life. A little beauty, a little mess. A little work, a little fun. A little strife, a lot of grace.

Thank God for the grace.       
http://www.encouragingbeautifulmotherhood.com/about/ 

I enjoyed reading this, because it's also so true in my own life! I want to do better at the former group of things (putting away laundry, washing and drying dishes, sweeping up crumbs) because they're important to make space (both physical AND mental, perhaps emotional and spiritual too) for the latter type of activities--coloring with the kids, talking about what they're thankful for, and snuggling. And being patient when they overreact to things... keeping things as calm as possible instead of participating in the escalation of a small bump in the road that can easily (in our house!) turn into a hurricane...! (Example: some nights when I'm reading those bedtime stories to the kids, my eyes start to close and the pauses between sentences start to last too long... or Yvelle notices I'm "NOT READING IT RIGHT, Mommy!!!"  A couple of times she's run to a corner of the room and started crying in frustration and anger (and suddenly, without warning!)

And I think as I write, do I do that to God? I don't trust Him, or His good heart, or his trustworthy purposes and plans fo rme...

Lord, help me to be patient with my little guys, as you are SOOOOOOO patient with me...
Amen.

The whole article on the Mother Duck... a reminder for me

What a Mother Must Sacrifice
by Ann Voskamp, from www.aholyexperience.com

Houses may be bought, built, or borrowed.

But homes can only be made, and that with bits of ourselves.

Or so the ducks told me.
They told me without a sound, just simply as they preened and nestled, a painting, oil on canvas. The children press in close too, for a better look at Alexander Max Koester’s painting Ducks, and I read aloud the caption below the brushes of color.

“Mother ducks pick feathers from their chests to line their nests.”


(Koester’s painting: Moulting Ducks)

I pause and the children gaze thoughtfully at a clutch of plump white, blizzard of feathers fallen down. But it’s those words that mesmerize me: “pick feathers from their chests, to line their nests.”

Eyes fixed on a duck breast puffed, mother plunging beak in deep, I question wondering self: “How else did you think nests were lined?”

With leftovers. With feathers discarded, the molted, the not-so-necessary feathers. I thought mother ducks picked feathers up from what was laying about, scraps, lining nests with what simply could be mustered after the fact.

But no. (Is that only the way of human mothers?) No, a mother duck plucks each feather out from the heart of her bosom, warm and soft.

She lines the nest with bits of herself. The best of her, from the deep spots.

She cups her young in her sacrifice.

Children pull at the corner of the page, anxious to see the next painting, and, reluctantly, I move on. But for weeks, part of me lives among Koester’s ducks. (Koester, captivated, painted dozens of duck paintings throughout the course of his life. I’ve come to understand.)

Days later, I am scrubbing out the arches of muffin tins after breakfast, the clock ticking insufferably loud in my ears, time running down. Children need books and learning, and I’m tuned for the expected chime of the doorbell, a service personnel’s scheduled visit. And the words rise near to the surface, “I don’t have time for this! No muffins tomorrow morning!”

Pluck.

The words sharply sink. And I, learning, line this nest with a feather. Not a leftover. But one decidedly plucked. The service man meets me with muffin tins still in the sink, and a circle of happy young. Whose tummies next morning fill with another batch of muffins. I will make time.

As the sun’s perfect globe of glow sets nears the horizon, these boys, glint in eyes, recalibrate vacuum cleaner to fire socks. Weary, I have food to find, laundry awaiting escort, math sheets to mark.

They fire sock cannons.

And I Pluck.

Bellies jiggle, peals of giggles, as old mother chases after future men, wrestling them down, tying them up in tickles. We warm here in laughter. It feels good, wild and alive. So again they fire, and again I pluck with feathers of my time, bits of me, and we pile high, one atop the other, nesting down into sacrifice, soft and small.

Some feathers for this nest, the parts of me and time I have sacrificed, have hurt, pain of the plucking lingering long. But why speak of the details? And was it really sacrifice, or just this too-tender skin? It’s done, it was necessary, it was for something better. Some nights, when all sleep, I feel along the hidden bald patches.

There are times, too many, when they call, “Read me a story?” “Wanna play a game with me?” “Can you come help me?”

And this mother refuses to pluck. Something, some task, someone (me?), rates as more pressing, more important. I deem our nest acceptable just as it is. I don’t want to sacrifice more of me.

Then comes the pecking, the scratching, the squawking. With feather lining wearing thin, the nest chafes hard. We hurt and cry. Nests need feathers deep.

Someone must pluck.

When will I learn that down sacrificed settles and soothes?

For scraps won’t suffice. Snippets of time, leftover me, a trinket, a diversion, tossed.

Mother ducks don’t line nests with feathers, dirty and trampled, the molted and unnecessary. Why would I? Nests need feathers fresh, warm with mother’s life.

Night descends and calls children to dreams. I lead them to their bed-gate, arms and legs under quilts worn from the ride. I read stories, stroke hair, say prayers. Prayers to Him who plucked hard from His own heart.

A sacrifice, staggering and true, for love of His very own. We learn love from His laid down.

Tired heads nestle into pillows, pillows of down.

On feathers plucked, we rest.

Related: May the Children Eat First
How to Parent: Just Guide Gently  (this link doesn't seem to work... but can't find where to link it too. i'll relink when i'm able) :/

The original Koester painting, “Moulting Ducks,” is part of the collection at the Frye Art Museum in Seattle www.fryemuseum.org