It seems like there is always something breaking. Since we moved to the house we are in now, back in March, our laundry machine has been making all kinds of loud noises (you can hear it a few houses away!), and leaking water out the bottom. We got an estimate to fix it a couple weeks ago, but not from a trustworthy source . I found out basically what was wrong with it, from a friend whose machine had the same problem. So I found another washing-machine-fixer, and he gave me another estimate....an estimate so high it's cheaper to buy a new machine. But since we can't afford a new washing machine right now (or anytime in the foreseeable future), we are going to just stick with this noisy, leaky one. Hey, at least the clothes come out (mostly) clean. Enough so that I don't have to wash everything by hand.
And then there's the car. This car has been a blessing and a curse. We bought it used a little over a year ago, and there is always something wrong. Yesterday, the steering wheel shaft started smoking. It's at the electrician being fixed now, so Husband can actually get to work tonight...
When it's not one thing, it's another. Sometimes it seems like something is always breaking or going wrong. I could sit here and rant about my oven not working, about the curtains falling off the wall, about any number of things. But really.....I have next to nothing to complain about.
Because at least I have a washing machine, a car, a house to live in. Hurricane Harvey has taken those things from so many. I have been thinking a lot the last few days about the devastation in Texas right now. It doesn't make a difference where I live; I am always going to be American. I will always feel for my fellow citizens in situations like this, even though I can't begin to imagine what they are going through. I have thought and thought and thought about what to say in this post, but I can't come up with anything profound. Just that it has been amazing to follow the news and see how unified everyone has become in face of tragedy. Yeah, I saw the news just a few short weeks ago about Charlottesville...but what happened there was UNAMERICAN. What is happening in Texas now....this is what makes me proud to be an American. And that is wonderful, because so often lately I have avoided reading or watching the news, because so much of what is reported about the States is an embarrassment. But we Americans know what it means to be Patriotic, and what pride we have in the GOOD in our country...even though that is rarely reported.
As I continue to see the good coming from this tragedy, it takes me back to Katrina in 2005 and Sandy in 2012. I don't want to downplay serious tragedies (nor do I ignore tragedies throughout the world, and so many other social issues that I am not addressing in this post). The good, the unity, the love that come from these tragedies are always a wake-up call to us. Why do we need to wait for something terrible to happen, before we reach out to help a neighbor, a stranger, and even someone we may never get along with? If each person could help just ONE person each day, think how much better the world could be. If we could stop saying and thinking "I" so often, how much good could be done in the world?
Maybe I should wake up each day and think "who needs to be helped today?" Not even "How can I help someone?" because in that phrase, there is still a focus on me. Does my neighbor need someone to talk to? Does my friend need help with her kids? Does my husband need a time for himself?
My honest hope is that Harvey has changed us. Not just some of us, not just those who are going through this terrible hurricane, but everyone who has been affected in some way or another (even if that is just to have some empathy for those in this situation). And the change I am talking about is a permanent, life-altering change. Not just "for now", til things blow over. Not just til it's out of the news and everyone is "okay" again. Not just til the next tragedy. But forever. My hope is that Harvey makes us reach out a little more, do a little more, BE a little more.
I read a post that says it all better than I can, which can be found here, and she's got a link to donate funds to help the Harvey victims.
Parece que sempre tem alguma coisa quebrando. Desde que mudamos para essa casa em março, nossa máquina de lavar tem feito uma zoada alta (dá para ouvir da rua!), e está vazando água por baixo. Nós fizemos um orçamento para consertá-la, mas o lugar não foi confiável. Descobri basicamente qual é o defeito, de uma amiga que tinha o mesmo problema na máquina dela. Falei com uma outra pessoa que conserta máquinas, e ela me deu um outro orçamento....com um valor tão alto que é mais barato comprar uma nova máquina! Mas como não conseguimos comprar uma nova máquina agora, continuaremos com nossa máquina zoadenta. Pelo menos as roupas saem limpas.......a maioria. Tanto que não preciso lavar tudo na mão!
E também tem o carro. O carro tem sido uma bênção e uma maldição. Compramos ele usado um pouco mais de um ano atrás, e sempre tem alguma coisa errada. Ontem, começou a fumaçar atrás do volante. Hoje está no eletricista send consertado, para que Husband possa ir trabalhar à noite....
Quando não é uma coisa, é outra. Às vezes parece que alguma coisa está sempre quebrando ou indo errado. Eu poderia ficar aqui reclamando do meu fogão que só funciona quando quer, ou sobre as cortinas caindo da parede, ou sobre um monte de coisas. Mas realmente....Eu não tenho nada para reclamar.
Porque pelo menos eu tenho uma máquina de lavar, um carro, uma casa para morar. O furacão Harvey tirou essas coisas de tantas pessoas. Eu tenho pensado muito nos últimos dias sobre a devastação em Texas agora. Não faz diferença onde eu moro; sempre serei Americana. Sempre sentirei por meus conterrâneos em situações assim, mesmo que eu não consiga nem imaginar o que estão passando. Tenho pensado e pensado e pensado no que dizer nessa post, mas não achei nada profundo. Só que tem sido incrível seguir o jornal e ver a união ao enfrentar a tragédia. Sim, eu vi o jornal algumas semanas atrás sobre os acontecimentos em Charlottesville...mas o que aconteceu lá não foi uma coisa americana. O que está acontecendo em Texas agora....isso é o que me dá orgulho por ser americana. E isso é ótimo, porque em muitas ocasiões recentemente, tenho evitado ler ou assistir o jornal, porque tantas reportagens dos EUA dão vergonha. Mas nós Americanos sabemos o que significa ser patriótico, e o orgulho que temos no BOM em nosso país....mesmo que isso raramente é anotado ou relatado.
Continuo vendo o bom sair dessa tragédia, e me volto para Katrina em 2005 e Sandy em 2012. Não quero diminuir as tragédias (nem ignoro as outras tragédias no mundo todo, e tantos problemas sociais que não estou abordando nessa post). O bom, a união, o amor que vêm dessas tragédias sempre chamam a nossa atenção. Por que precisamos esperar algo terrível acontecer, antes de ajudar um vizinho, um estranho, ou até alguém com quem nunca iremos nos dar bem? Se cada pessoa pudesse ajudar UMA pessoa por dia, pensem em como o mundo seria um lugar melhor. Se pudéssemos parar de dizer e pensar tanto "EU", quanto bom poderia ser feito no mundo?
Talvez eu deveria acordar cada dia e pensar "quem precisa ser ajudado hoje?" Nem "Como eu posso ajudar alguém?" porque nessa frase, ainda o foco está em mim. Minha vizinha precisa alguém para escutá-la? Minha amiga precisa de ajuda com seus filhos? Meu marido precisa de um tempo para ele?
Minha sincera esperança é que Harvey tenha nos mudado. Não apenas alguns de nós, não apenas as pessoas passando por isso em Texas, mas todos que têm sido afeitado de alguma forma (mesmo que isso seja só criar empatia por aqueles nessa situação). E a mudança que digo é permanente, para alterar a vida. Não apenas "por enquanto", até tudo se acalmar. Não apenas até a próxima tragédia. É para sempre. Minha esperança é que Harvey nos faz ajudar um pouco mais, fazer um pouco mais, SER um pouco mais.
Eu li um blog que diz tudo melhor que eu poderia dizer, que se acha aqui, e ela tem um link para doar fundos para ajudar as vítimas de Harvey.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Sunday, August 27, 2017
Going to Church Used to Inspire Me
Hey Moms and Dads who go to Church (any church), did your spiritual life take a nosedive after becoming parents??
I found an old blog I used to write on, and I have been reading through my old posts the last few days. I used to have some pretty interesting things to say! Now it seems like my inspiring thoughts have ceased, and instead my head is filled with the latest mess to clean up off the floor (last night, Little L. projectile vomited the entire contents of her stomach riiiiiiiight as she was falling asleep. This morning, she got ahold of and opened the cinnamon....and decided the floor was a good place to sprinkle half of it. The kitchen still smells like cinnamon...). Not just the messes, but the never-ending piles of laundry (I swear, there are more than 3 people living here), the dishes that are never done, and the frequent thought of "what's the point of even cleaning my house anymore?"
Yeah, not so inspiring. Or uplifting.
Sundays are still great days; they are still different from the rest of the week. I don't let myself get stressed out about the house, I don't think about work or laundry or cleaning the bathroom. I do, however, miss coming home from Church feeling renewed and like I learned a ton in my 3 hours at Church. Ever since Little L. became more active and less cooperative with sitting quietly on my lap, I had been secretly looking forward to when she would be 18 months old, so she could spend 2 hours in Nursery, and I could pay attention for those two hours! Well, that came and went. She doesn't stay in nursery by herself yet....she did one time, and it was great! But I find I still have a hard time concentrating, even if I am not running around like a frazzled mom after a very active toddler.
I'm not sure what all I can do about it. I have talked to other moms, and realized that I am not alone in my dilemma. I even mentioned to one that sometimes I feel like...what's the point in even staying at church after the first hour?? She agreed that she feels that way sometimes, too.
What's the point? Even if I don't feel like I am learning something every minute of the 3 hours I am at church, I have realized that I am setting an example. I am teaching Little L. that Church is important. That Church is a priority. It's not even an option to go home and just play instead of trying to get through 3 hours of Church on Sunday mornings. And that is more important than anything I need to learn right now. Because my life is not about me anymore. Now it is about teaching this small person about what is right and wrong. And going to Church, learning about God, Jesus, and the Gospel....that is what we do on Sundays, because it is what God has asked of us.
I suppose that when I came to this realization, my personal study at home became more valuable to me, because it is where I need to learn things for me and my family, that maybe I don't get the chance to anymore (for now) on Sundays, because I am busy teaching my little daughter how to be a disciple of Christ.
At least, I hope that's the example I am setting for her. I try, and I fail a lot, but I really try. It melts my heart every time she sees a picture of Jesus, and gets all excited and says "JESUS!", then hugs the picture, as if hugging her very best friend. And when she brings out our mini hymnbooks and begs for us to sing, and then sings along with us. And when she recognizes a picture of the Temple and says "pempo". I guess I'm doing something right.
Yeah, I guess my nosedive Sundays are really worth it. My Little L. is learning, and that's more important than anything I could be learning right now.
Oi Mães e Pais que frequentam a igreja (qualquer igreja), a vida espiritual de vocês ficou difícil depois de serem pais?
Eu achei um blog velho que eu escrevia, e durante os últimos dias, tenho lido o que escrevi naquela época. Eu tinha algumas coisas interessantes a dizer! Agora parece que meus pensamentos inspiradores cessaram, e em vez deles, minha cabeça está cheia de pensamentos da bagunça mais recente para limpar (ontem à noite, Little L. vomitou tudo que estava na barriga no momento que ela ia dormir. Hoje de manhã, ela conseguiu pegar a abrir a canela, e decidiu que o chão foi o lugar perfeito para derramar a metade. A cozinha ainda cheira a canela!). Não só as bagunças, mas as roupas que sempre precisam ser lavadas (juro que tem mais de 3 pessoas morando aqui), as louças que nunca acabam, e o pensamento frequente de "qual o propósito mesmo de limpar minha casa?"
Pois é, não tão inspirador.
Os domingos ainda são dias ótimos; ainda são dias diferenciados. Eu não me deixo estressar sobre a casa, não penso sobre trabalho, nem as roupas sujas, nem como preciso limpar o banheiro. Mesmo assim, eu sinto falta de voltar da Igreja sentindo renovada e que aprendi um monte nas 3 horas na Igreja. Desde que Little L. ficou mais ativa e aceitava menos ficar quietinha no meu colo, eu estava aguardando o dia que ela fizesse um ano e meio, para ela passar 2 horas na Primária (no berçário), para que eu pudesse prestar atenção durante aquelas 2 horas! Aquele dia chegou, e até agora ela não fica sozinha no berçário (ainda). Ela ficou, uma vez, e como foi bom! Mas mesmo assim, eu vejo que não consigo me concentrar bem, mesmo se não estou correndo atrás de uma criancinha muito ativa.
Não sei o que posso fazer. Já conversei com outras mães, e percebi que não estou sozinha com esse probleminha. Eu até comentei para uma que às vezes eu sinto....qual o propósito de eu ficar depois da primeira hora?? Ela concordou que ela sente assim às vezes, também.
Qual o propósito? Mesmo que EU não sinta que estou aprendendo algo durante cada minuto das 3 horas que estou na igreja, eu percebi que estou dando um exemplo. Eu estou ensinando Little L. que a Igreja é importante. Que a Igreja é uma prioridade. Não é nem opção ir para casa e brincar, em vez de ficar as 3 horas na Igreja nos domingos. E isso é mais importante que qualquer coisa que eu preciso aprender agora. Porque minha vida não é mais sobre mim. Agora é sobre ensinar essa pessoinha sobre o que é certo e errado. E ir para Igreja, aprender sobre Deus, Jesus, e o Evangelho....isso é o que fazemos aos domingos, porque é isso que Deus pede de nós.
Eu acho que quando cheguei a essa conclusão, meu estudo pessoal em casa tornou-se mais valioso para mim, porque é onde preciso aprender as coisas para mim e minha família, que talvez eu não consiga mais aprender (por enquanto) aos domingos, porque estou ocupada ensinando minha filhinha como ser uma discípula de Cristo.
Pelo menos, espero que é esse o exemplo que estou dando para ela. Eu me esforço, e eu falho muito, mas eu realmente tento. Derrete meu coração todas as vezes que ela vê uma gravura de Jesus e fica animada dizendo "JESUS!", e abraça a gravura, como se estivesse abraçando seu melhor amigo. E quando ela pega nossos hinários e pede para cantarmos, e então canta junto conosco. E quando ela reconhece uma foto do Templo e diz "pempo". Eu acho que estou fazendo alguma coisa certo.
Pois é, parece que meus domingos sem inspiração valem a pena. Minha Little L. está aprendendo, e isso é mais importante do que qualquer coisa que eu poderia estar aprendendo agora.
I found an old blog I used to write on, and I have been reading through my old posts the last few days. I used to have some pretty interesting things to say! Now it seems like my inspiring thoughts have ceased, and instead my head is filled with the latest mess to clean up off the floor (last night, Little L. projectile vomited the entire contents of her stomach riiiiiiiight as she was falling asleep. This morning, she got ahold of and opened the cinnamon....and decided the floor was a good place to sprinkle half of it. The kitchen still smells like cinnamon...). Not just the messes, but the never-ending piles of laundry (I swear, there are more than 3 people living here), the dishes that are never done, and the frequent thought of "what's the point of even cleaning my house anymore?"
Yeah, not so inspiring. Or uplifting.
Sundays are still great days; they are still different from the rest of the week. I don't let myself get stressed out about the house, I don't think about work or laundry or cleaning the bathroom. I do, however, miss coming home from Church feeling renewed and like I learned a ton in my 3 hours at Church. Ever since Little L. became more active and less cooperative with sitting quietly on my lap, I had been secretly looking forward to when she would be 18 months old, so she could spend 2 hours in Nursery, and I could pay attention for those two hours! Well, that came and went. She doesn't stay in nursery by herself yet....she did one time, and it was great! But I find I still have a hard time concentrating, even if I am not running around like a frazzled mom after a very active toddler.
I'm not sure what all I can do about it. I have talked to other moms, and realized that I am not alone in my dilemma. I even mentioned to one that sometimes I feel like...what's the point in even staying at church after the first hour?? She agreed that she feels that way sometimes, too.
What's the point? Even if I don't feel like I am learning something every minute of the 3 hours I am at church, I have realized that I am setting an example. I am teaching Little L. that Church is important. That Church is a priority. It's not even an option to go home and just play instead of trying to get through 3 hours of Church on Sunday mornings. And that is more important than anything I need to learn right now. Because my life is not about me anymore. Now it is about teaching this small person about what is right and wrong. And going to Church, learning about God, Jesus, and the Gospel....that is what we do on Sundays, because it is what God has asked of us.
I suppose that when I came to this realization, my personal study at home became more valuable to me, because it is where I need to learn things for me and my family, that maybe I don't get the chance to anymore (for now) on Sundays, because I am busy teaching my little daughter how to be a disciple of Christ.
At least, I hope that's the example I am setting for her. I try, and I fail a lot, but I really try. It melts my heart every time she sees a picture of Jesus, and gets all excited and says "JESUS!", then hugs the picture, as if hugging her very best friend. And when she brings out our mini hymnbooks and begs for us to sing, and then sings along with us. And when she recognizes a picture of the Temple and says "pempo". I guess I'm doing something right.
Yeah, I guess my nosedive Sundays are really worth it. My Little L. is learning, and that's more important than anything I could be learning right now.
Oi Mães e Pais que frequentam a igreja (qualquer igreja), a vida espiritual de vocês ficou difícil depois de serem pais?
Eu achei um blog velho que eu escrevia, e durante os últimos dias, tenho lido o que escrevi naquela época. Eu tinha algumas coisas interessantes a dizer! Agora parece que meus pensamentos inspiradores cessaram, e em vez deles, minha cabeça está cheia de pensamentos da bagunça mais recente para limpar (ontem à noite, Little L. vomitou tudo que estava na barriga no momento que ela ia dormir. Hoje de manhã, ela conseguiu pegar a abrir a canela, e decidiu que o chão foi o lugar perfeito para derramar a metade. A cozinha ainda cheira a canela!). Não só as bagunças, mas as roupas que sempre precisam ser lavadas (juro que tem mais de 3 pessoas morando aqui), as louças que nunca acabam, e o pensamento frequente de "qual o propósito mesmo de limpar minha casa?"
Pois é, não tão inspirador.
Os domingos ainda são dias ótimos; ainda são dias diferenciados. Eu não me deixo estressar sobre a casa, não penso sobre trabalho, nem as roupas sujas, nem como preciso limpar o banheiro. Mesmo assim, eu sinto falta de voltar da Igreja sentindo renovada e que aprendi um monte nas 3 horas na Igreja. Desde que Little L. ficou mais ativa e aceitava menos ficar quietinha no meu colo, eu estava aguardando o dia que ela fizesse um ano e meio, para ela passar 2 horas na Primária (no berçário), para que eu pudesse prestar atenção durante aquelas 2 horas! Aquele dia chegou, e até agora ela não fica sozinha no berçário (ainda). Ela ficou, uma vez, e como foi bom! Mas mesmo assim, eu vejo que não consigo me concentrar bem, mesmo se não estou correndo atrás de uma criancinha muito ativa.
Não sei o que posso fazer. Já conversei com outras mães, e percebi que não estou sozinha com esse probleminha. Eu até comentei para uma que às vezes eu sinto....qual o propósito de eu ficar depois da primeira hora?? Ela concordou que ela sente assim às vezes, também.
Qual o propósito? Mesmo que EU não sinta que estou aprendendo algo durante cada minuto das 3 horas que estou na igreja, eu percebi que estou dando um exemplo. Eu estou ensinando Little L. que a Igreja é importante. Que a Igreja é uma prioridade. Não é nem opção ir para casa e brincar, em vez de ficar as 3 horas na Igreja nos domingos. E isso é mais importante que qualquer coisa que eu preciso aprender agora. Porque minha vida não é mais sobre mim. Agora é sobre ensinar essa pessoinha sobre o que é certo e errado. E ir para Igreja, aprender sobre Deus, Jesus, e o Evangelho....isso é o que fazemos aos domingos, porque é isso que Deus pede de nós.
Eu acho que quando cheguei a essa conclusão, meu estudo pessoal em casa tornou-se mais valioso para mim, porque é onde preciso aprender as coisas para mim e minha família, que talvez eu não consiga mais aprender (por enquanto) aos domingos, porque estou ocupada ensinando minha filhinha como ser uma discípula de Cristo.
Pelo menos, espero que é esse o exemplo que estou dando para ela. Eu me esforço, e eu falho muito, mas eu realmente tento. Derrete meu coração todas as vezes que ela vê uma gravura de Jesus e fica animada dizendo "JESUS!", e abraça a gravura, como se estivesse abraçando seu melhor amigo. E quando ela pega nossos hinários e pede para cantarmos, e então canta junto conosco. E quando ela reconhece uma foto do Templo e diz "pempo". Eu acho que estou fazendo alguma coisa certo.
Pois é, parece que meus domingos sem inspiração valem a pena. Minha Little L. está aprendendo, e isso é mais importante do que qualquer coisa que eu poderia estar aprendendo agora.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Having a Sick Toddler
Everyone says "sick babies are no fun"....
Little L. is sick today. She started having a runny nose a few days ago, but nothing else. Yesterday the coughing and sneezing picked up, and then the sore throat came into the picture. While I was finishing up one of my evening classes last night, Little L. woke herself up with a coughing fit. I went to put her back to sleep after giving her some more medicine, and she fell asleep quickly in my arms (it's been a while since she did that last...). And I just held on to her. As I held her helpless, sleeping little body, I couldn't help but be overcome by love for this precious little girl God has entrusted to me and Husband.
I know that everyone gets coughs, everyone gets sore throats, and I know I'll face this forever throughout her life, but right now it feels like something is terrible wrong. She has never had a sore throat like this, nor has she ever been able to really tell us about it before this time. There was no more guessing yesterday afternoon as she put her hands on her throat while she coughed, and left them there even after the coughing stopped. It is heartbreaking to see, because I want to take away her pain, her discomfort...but I can't. We take care of her and wait. It will go away; I know that. It is part of life; I know that too. But I'm sure all you parents out there will agree with me that it is a terrible feeling to see your small child sick.
After putting her back to sleep again last night, Husband went and got some medications that his mother (a nurse) recommended, and we got those ready for the next time she woke up. She woke up again around midnight, burning up with a fever. I took her shirt and socks off, turned the fan on low in her room, and we gave her her medicine, which she willingly took. She fell asleep again quickly. It was a long night....every time she shifted in her crib or coughed, I think Husband and I both woke up. And at least for me, I had a hard time getting back to sleep each time.
Little L. woke up this morning at her usual time, despite me hoping she'd sleep in! She woke up happy, though less chatty than normal. That was explained by her hoarse voice, when she finally did start chattering away. She is happy today, though tired. I put her down for a nap over 2 hours earlier than normal, so I am hoping she will end up taking two naps today, and try to sleep this thing away!
I guess this is me just trying to vent my emotion-filled, overtired feelings out for the WWW to see...you know, being a first-time mom and all. Sure, Little L. is over a year and a half old, but I still feel like so much is new to me. She's been sick before, but it is heartbreaking every time.
As for medications....I prefer natural; I've never liked taking medicine except when necessary. But I don't know much about home remedies for different things, plus this was late at night and I just wanted to get something into her that would help her get better. I know lemon and honey help with a sore throat. What else are good home remedies, for all kinds of illnesses?? Help me out here, guys! :) I know she'll get sick in the future and I want to know what to do, without having to depend solely on medications.
Little L. is sick today. She started having a runny nose a few days ago, but nothing else. Yesterday the coughing and sneezing picked up, and then the sore throat came into the picture. While I was finishing up one of my evening classes last night, Little L. woke herself up with a coughing fit. I went to put her back to sleep after giving her some more medicine, and she fell asleep quickly in my arms (it's been a while since she did that last...). And I just held on to her. As I held her helpless, sleeping little body, I couldn't help but be overcome by love for this precious little girl God has entrusted to me and Husband.
I know that everyone gets coughs, everyone gets sore throats, and I know I'll face this forever throughout her life, but right now it feels like something is terrible wrong. She has never had a sore throat like this, nor has she ever been able to really tell us about it before this time. There was no more guessing yesterday afternoon as she put her hands on her throat while she coughed, and left them there even after the coughing stopped. It is heartbreaking to see, because I want to take away her pain, her discomfort...but I can't. We take care of her and wait. It will go away; I know that. It is part of life; I know that too. But I'm sure all you parents out there will agree with me that it is a terrible feeling to see your small child sick.
After putting her back to sleep again last night, Husband went and got some medications that his mother (a nurse) recommended, and we got those ready for the next time she woke up. She woke up again around midnight, burning up with a fever. I took her shirt and socks off, turned the fan on low in her room, and we gave her her medicine, which she willingly took. She fell asleep again quickly. It was a long night....every time she shifted in her crib or coughed, I think Husband and I both woke up. And at least for me, I had a hard time getting back to sleep each time.
Little L. woke up this morning at her usual time, despite me hoping she'd sleep in! She woke up happy, though less chatty than normal. That was explained by her hoarse voice, when she finally did start chattering away. She is happy today, though tired. I put her down for a nap over 2 hours earlier than normal, so I am hoping she will end up taking two naps today, and try to sleep this thing away!
I guess this is me just trying to vent my emotion-filled, overtired feelings out for the WWW to see...you know, being a first-time mom and all. Sure, Little L. is over a year and a half old, but I still feel like so much is new to me. She's been sick before, but it is heartbreaking every time.
As for medications....I prefer natural; I've never liked taking medicine except when necessary. But I don't know much about home remedies for different things, plus this was late at night and I just wanted to get something into her that would help her get better. I know lemon and honey help with a sore throat. What else are good home remedies, for all kinds of illnesses?? Help me out here, guys! :) I know she'll get sick in the future and I want to know what to do, without having to depend solely on medications.
Monday, August 21, 2017
The Greatest Love Story I've Ever Heard (part 4...getting married!!)
Continued from parts 1 (how we met), 2 (the real beginning), and 3 (visa stuff....and waiting)
Our first plan was actually to
get married in the States. But when we started looking into the fiancé
visa, we gave up on that idea. There was no way we could afford all that.
So we decided to get married in Brazil, where I wouldn't have to get a
new visa. I could get married on my tourist visa (totally legally, no
questions asked), and then change my visa to a permanent one after the
wedding.
The Paperwork
In the end of 2013, we looking
into all the paperwork necessary for that. I would need a ton of
paperwork, documents, etc, all authenticated by the Brazilian Consulate in the
States and then translated by an official translator here in Brazil. It
was a lot of work, but still WAY less than it would have been had we gotten
married in the USA. So I got all my paperwork together. My parents
helped me, since I was still off in Utah finishing up school (I wouldn't finish
until mid-June, and then I had a ticket to move to Brazil for July 4), and I
was working through the Boston Consulate. Over Christmas break I was able
to get a bunch of it done, running around the state like a crazy person.
Anyway, a few months before the wedding, we sent it all down to Best Friend, so that he'd have
plenty of time to get it translated and then start the process to get a
marriage license. I even wrote a letter authorizing his mom to stand in
and sign for me to start the process. Well, the first batch got to him.
The second one never made it...
When I got back to my parents'
house for a couple weeks after finishing college, I ran around like a crazy
person again to get the half of the paperwork (AGAIN) that hadn't made it down
to Best Friend yet.
I would just bring it with me and we'd start the marriage license process
as soon as I got here. He had already gotten a translator for the other
half of the paperwork, and fortunately she was very willing to work with us.
She had me scan and email her the rest of the paperwork, and she
translated it. When we picked it up, we just showed her the originals so
she could sign off on it. We should have known that this was the beginning
of an INSANE month before our wedding!
Our wedding date was set for July
24. About a month before that, Best Friend signed a contract to rent our house, where I'd live by
myself before our wedding. He had ordered some of our furniture; the rest
we'd buy together when I got there. I left the States on July 4 (Happy Independence Day!), arriving
here the next day. It was a Saturday when I got here, so there wasn't
much we could do for the paperwork until Monday. On the way back from the
airport, though, we stopped at the party planner's house and just went over all
the details. It was all fine by me....like I said before, we are simple
people and didn't want a lot of extravagance. It was going to be a
relatively small wedding. I moved into our house...we had a bed, a
wardrobe, a stove, kitchen cabinets, and a kitchen table and chairs. That's it!
Over the next couple weeks we got the rest of what we needed...couch,
fridge, food, cleaning supplies, etc. We also moved Best Friend's stuff
from his parents' house to ours over the next few weeks.
Monday we picked up our
translated paperwork, and Tuesday (July 8) we went to city hall to get the
marriage license. That ended up being an all-day process. Best Friend had a very good
boss at the time and was willing to work with him coming and going all day,
because he had to sign different parts. I still had no idea what was
going on, as I'd never really dealt with any of this type of stuff in Brazil.
I didn't realize it would be so complicated. Anyway, there was one
major complication: It would take AT LEAST 30 days to get our marriage license.
We had two weeks. We told the ladies at city hall (who were
EXTREMELY helpful, so much so that we still go see them just to say hi!) that
our wedding was planned for the 24th, and we'd be leaving town the next day and
couldn't change the wedding date. They offered several suggestions, none
of which would be conducive to our standards, which we also explained.
They were very understanding and in the end told us that if we knew
someone who knew someone who knew someone, we could probably get the license in
15 days.
I didn't know ANYONE, of course,
being new in town. Fortunately for us, Best Friend's mom knows everyone!
While Best Friend went back to work for a bit, she and I went across town to
visit a lawyer friend. We explained the situation to him, and he was more
than willing to help. He even knew the right person, and said he'd talk
to him the next day! So the next few days were kind of crazy. We
found an error on the announcement and had to return to city hall to fix that
(it had my father as being Brazilian!). Our lawyer friend talked to his
connections and got everything squared away so that we'd get the license in
time. But that doesn't mean we weren't still worried about it!
Over the next couple weeks
leading up to the wedding, we scrambled to deliver invitations, get our house
in order and Best Friend's stuff moved in. My mom was able to come down for the
wedding, which was awesome! She got here two days beforehand, so we were
able to show her around town a little bit, but mostly she ended up being the
seamstress to fix all the dress problems that a few family members had!
She didn't mind, though; my mom is awesome.
The Wedding
July 24, 2014 was a crazy
awesome day. Best Friend's mother picked up our
marriage license just a couple hours before the wedding. His dad picked
up one of his best friends from the airport just a few hours before the
wedding. Mom and I were mostly just at home finishing up some sewing
details. And I didn't really have much to do. So I just hung out.
And packed for Recife and Fortaleza.
Before continuing, let me
explain something. In our Church, we believe that marriages and
families can be forever....we don't believe that the limit is "til death
do us part". In order for a marriage to be eternal, it must be
realized in one of our Temples, by someone who has authority from God to do so.
In the USA, this Temple marriage is counted as the civil marriage.
In Brazil, the civil marriage is separate, so we had to get married
civilly before we could be married (sealed) in the Temple the next day.
I was scheduled to get my hair
and makeup done at 4pm, to be ready for our wedding at 7pm. I am
a punctual person, and had made it very clear that I didn't want to be
late to my own wedding, even if that was the "tradition".
Things don't always go according to plan, though..........
When I arrived at 4pm, there were
still a few people ahead of me to be done. So I had to wait.
Fortunately for everybody, myself included, I was NOT anxious or nervous
or anything of the sort. I just wanted to be on time, and I saw that
slipping away, so I was annoyed for a moment....until I just let it go.
Just go with it, right?
In the end, I arrived at
the venue just before 9pm. !!!!!!!!!!!!! Our wedding began just a few minutes later. I found out
later that Best Friend had arrived just a few minutes before me, so that's a
relief. He was apparently a nervous wreck, too. ;)
The ceremony was wonderful,
magical, unforgettable. It was better than I had always dreamed.
Because my dad couldn't be there, my wonderful mom walked me down the
aisle, which is something special that I will never forget.
The wedding was beautiful.
It was in the same place we had our reception, so as soon as the ceremony
was over, we got to talk to everyone, dance, eat, eat cake, and just enjoy
being together and with everyone who was there. We had about 75 people
present, and it was perfect. Oh, and WE GOT MARRIED!!
Everything finally wrapped up around 1am. Our wedding
planner did everything, so we had no worries there. We just helped with
cleanup and then headed back to our house.
The
Wedding Night (don't worry, it's G-rated)
We got back to our house with my
mom around 1:30am or so. Mom hung out on the couch and snoozed, and we
hung out on the living room floor and opened presents. It was pointless
to sleep; we'd be going to the airport in less than 2 hours. HUSBAND (!!!!!!) went back to his parents' house to finish packing
up a couple things, during which time I took a shower and washed out the gallon
of hairspray from my hair. There was so much hairspray, I'm pretty sure I
could've gone weeks without washing my hair and no one would notice, because it
would be exactly the same as it was at the wedding. Anyway, the taxi came
to get us around 3am, and Mom and Husband and I headed to the airport.
Mom had a flight to Recife earlier than ours. Husband's
parents got there a couple hours later, and we were all on the same flight to
Recife. We found Mom there, perfectly content in the airport, waiting for
us. Turns out, she'd bumped into a few American missionaries there, so
she had people to talk to while she waited!
The Sealing
We all left for the Temple and
had most of the day to rest or do whatever we wanted. Our sealing
ceremony wasn't until 7pm. I tried to sleep, and even though I was exhausted
(it was now Friday, and I hadn't slept since Wednesday night), I couldn't get
to sleep. I was too excited. Husband and I walked around the
gardens a bit, just talking and enjoying our time together.
The sealing was wonderful.
I can't even put it into words. If the civil ceremony the day
before was amazing, the sealing was 100 times better. It is an
indescribably good feeling knowing that we were going to be together FOREVER,
not just for this life on earth. This truly was the beginning of a wonderful
journey together.
The next day, we walked around
and took some pictures in the garden. Husband's parents had to
head back home, so we spent the rest of the day with Mom and some friends
around Recife, before Husband and I left for our honeymoon in Fortaleza.
We got to spend a week in Fortaleza, which we learned is an
absolutely beautiful city! We chose Fortaleza for our honeymoon because
it was a city neither of us had been to, and it just sounded like fun! So
why not?? We got to see some of the beautiful beaches, enjoy the
boardwalk each evening, dodge time-share-package-vendors by telling them (in
English) that we didn't speak Portuguese, go sailing on a schooner, and just
relax before starting our life together in the real world. We definitely
want to go back some day!
|
||
The end of the beginning...
And that, my friends, is the beginning of the Greatest Love Story I've Ever Heard. I a still living this greatest love story. These first three years of marriage have been absolutely amazing, more wonderful than I could have ever imagined or dreamed. In telling this story, I have realized that I lack the words and creativity to truly express everything we have been through and everything I think and feel, but there will be future posts to expound on some parts (the long-distance part, and the visa stuff, specifically) of this story that I had to leave out for now. Stay tuned for more!
Oh, and a funny note. Remember that lost paperwork? We got it finally when we returned fro our honeymoon!
|
||
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
The Greatest Love Story I've Ever Heard (part 3....visa stuff and waiting)
Continued from parts 1 (how we met) and 2 (the real beginning).
This has been a hard post for me to write (hence the time gap between this and the previous post) because of all the different directions I could go with it. But I decided to just tell the story, and I'll save my commentary for later posts.
After returning home in July 2012, I went back to school for fall semester. We talked on Skype pretty much every day, which was not easy, because of the time difference, plus all the difficulties that come with a long-distance relationship (more commentary on this here)....and ours was long-distance with epic proportions.
Towards the end of my fall semester, Best Friend set up an appointment to get his visa to come up and spend Christmas with my family. I bought my ticket home, talking my way into taking my finals before finals week actually started, so I could get an extra week at home for Christmas break. Yeah, I totally pulled the Brazilian boyfriend card, and it worked like a charm!
Best Friend's appointment at the American Consulate was for the end of November. Imagine how anxious I was all day...especially when I got absolutely no news until much later in the day. Well, when he got there, with all his paperwork, documents, passport, photos, etc., he still had to wait in line, despite having an appointment. The lady who attended him was less than thrilled to be working, and treated him like dirt. Best Friend spent 3 minutes with the lady interrogating him. His visa was then denied, with no explanation whatsoever. At the time, it felt like the end of the world, because it meant we wouldn't see each other again until 6 months later. We explored the possibility of me coming to visit over Christmas but it ended up just not being possible. After his awful experience at the Consulate, Best Friend told me he wasn't going to try the visa again.
So we continued with our long-distance, Skype-based relationship. In May 2013, we finally saw each other again...after 11 months. 11 LONG months. Long-distance has its ups and downs, and it felt like ours were REALLY HIGH HIGHS and REALLY LOW LOWS. Sometimes we were on cloud nine, sometimes we felt like we couldn't do it anymore.
In May 2013, Best Friend and I met up at the Temple in Recife, Brazil.
The day we got there was the day Best Friend asked me to marry him! He didn't do anything huge, which is just perfect for me. His proposal was simple, private, and better than I could have ever imagined. Even though we knew we were going to get married and I knew he was going to ask me, I had no idea when or how, so I was still surprised!
In Brazil, ring culture is a little different than in the USA. Here, when two people are engaged to each other, they wear a gold band on their right hand ring finger. When they get married, they either move that same band to the left hand, or put a new gold band on the left hand. Either way, I think it's awesome because it shows that BOTH of them are engaged, not just the woman.
This has been a hard post for me to write (hence the time gap between this and the previous post) because of all the different directions I could go with it. But I decided to just tell the story, and I'll save my commentary for later posts.
After returning home in July 2012, I went back to school for fall semester. We talked on Skype pretty much every day, which was not easy, because of the time difference, plus all the difficulties that come with a long-distance relationship (more commentary on this here)....and ours was long-distance with epic proportions.
Towards the end of my fall semester, Best Friend set up an appointment to get his visa to come up and spend Christmas with my family. I bought my ticket home, talking my way into taking my finals before finals week actually started, so I could get an extra week at home for Christmas break. Yeah, I totally pulled the Brazilian boyfriend card, and it worked like a charm!
Best Friend's appointment at the American Consulate was for the end of November. Imagine how anxious I was all day...especially when I got absolutely no news until much later in the day. Well, when he got there, with all his paperwork, documents, passport, photos, etc., he still had to wait in line, despite having an appointment. The lady who attended him was less than thrilled to be working, and treated him like dirt. Best Friend spent 3 minutes with the lady interrogating him. His visa was then denied, with no explanation whatsoever. At the time, it felt like the end of the world, because it meant we wouldn't see each other again until 6 months later. We explored the possibility of me coming to visit over Christmas but it ended up just not being possible. After his awful experience at the Consulate, Best Friend told me he wasn't going to try the visa again.
So we continued with our long-distance, Skype-based relationship. In May 2013, we finally saw each other again...after 11 months. 11 LONG months. Long-distance has its ups and downs, and it felt like ours were REALLY HIGH HIGHS and REALLY LOW LOWS. Sometimes we were on cloud nine, sometimes we felt like we couldn't do it anymore.
In May 2013, Best Friend and I met up at the Temple in Recife, Brazil.
In Brazil, ring culture is a little different than in the USA. Here, when two people are engaged to each other, they wear a gold band on their right hand ring finger. When they get married, they either move that same band to the left hand, or put a new gold band on the left hand. Either way, I think it's awesome because it shows that BOTH of them are engaged, not just the woman.
I spent the next month or so in Bahia with Best Friend and his family again. We even got to spend Brazilian Valentine's Day together, which was the day before I left to come home. Before that, though, we met up with a friend in Salvador and got to be tourists for the day.
It was the first time I had been to Salvador, other than in the airport!
I left to go back and finish my last year of college in June 2013. We didn't have a definite plan for when we'd see each other again, though we knew we'd be getting married about a year from then. We talked about me coming down again at Christmas.
As fall semester dragged on, Best Friend decided that he was going to try for the visa again. This time, though, he didn't tell me until about a week beforehand. We thought for sure he'd get it this time. He had more stability in his life. He went to the Consulate in São Paulo; he refused to go back to the one in Recife after how he was treated there. I don't blame him.
He was treated much better in São Paulo. The guy interviewing him spent about 10 minutes with him, interviewed him completely in English, made it seem like things were going great. Then out of nowhere at the end, Best Friend's visa was denied. Again. With no explanation. Again. With the exchange rate the way it was at the time, and my semesters, I ended up not even being able to come down for Christmas. So we went back to waiting. And once again, the long-distance thing was wonderful and awful, all at once. We had a wedding to plan...while being thousands of miles and a few time zones apart. But we managed to do it. I have to give Best Friend a LOT of credit...I know there are a lot of guys out there who are less involved in planning their wedding than their fiancées are, but in our case, Best Friend did a LOT more than I did!
13 months after we'd last seen each other, we were reunited....and that's the next post!
Sunday, August 6, 2017
Sleep methods...and Little L.'s method
Today, a new friend asked me for advice. I still feel like I am a new mom, always scouring the internet for advice and answers. Anyway, my friend has a daughter about 2 months younger than Little L. She came over venting about how her daughter wakes up a bunch at night again, even though she had been sleeping through the night just fine. Sounds like a sleep regression to me. I'm not sure if that's a well-known phrase in Portuguese....anyway, I told her about Little L.'s ups and downs, and how we handled them. And that it's completely normal for a 16-month old to be regressing!
After my conversation with her, I got to thinking about Little L. and her sleep habits. Let me say right away that I don't believe in any specific methods, or that any of them even work all the time. Yeah, my experience is limited, but not so limited that I don't know that every child is different. Parents need to do their research, but they also need to adapt. I read several things that got me thinking, and what I ended up doing was nothing like any of them, in the end. One thing I DO believe in, though, is ROUTINE.
As a newborn, she was pretty easy, actually. Yeah, she woke up every two hours to eat, but that's normal and because it was routine, it was okay. My Mom was here for the first 4 weeks, so she helped us get Little L. into a regular sleeping pattern, so that she'd sleep all night (except for feedings). At that point, Little L. went to bed around 7:30 or 8pm, and slept until about 5:30, when she'd wake up and eat and lie in bed with me just being awake for a little while. Her first nap of the day was around 7, which is when I would eat, shower, etc. It was a nice morning routine.
This continued until Little L. was about 4 months old. Then...regression! Because Husband was gone a lot for work, I spent a lot of days and nights alone with Little L. She got into the habit of nursing herself to sleep around this time (before that, she'd sleep with anyone), which was actually fine with me. I worked at home anyway, so it was okay. Plus there is nothing like a holding a perfectly innocent, sweet, sleeping baby. <3
Skipping forward a few months, when Little L. was about 10 or 11 months old, we decided to try sleep training. We hadn't done it previously, because when Little L. was 5 months old, she and I spent 2 months visiting family in the USA...so it was pointless to me to try right before, or during that trip. She was sleeping okay when we got home, but it went downhill. I got to the point where I was just a big grump all the time, and pretty unhappy (also, another post for another day), and I didn't feel like I could handle it anymore, especially with being alone with her half the time. So Husband and I tried letting her cry it out. That night was awful. She cried for like 3 hours, slept for about 45 minutes, and then started over. IT. WAS. AWFUL! We gave up around 3am and I nursed her to sleep.
I had done a TON of research about sleep training, sleep methods, etc. We also talked to her pediatrician. She told us this was normal, and to start putting Little L. to bed later, to see if she'd wake up later in the morning. That failed too. As I mentioned earlier, Little L. has been an early riser from the start...that hasn't changed. She has always woken up around 5:30am, except for a short time where she kept creeping that back to 4:30 until we had to put a stop to it. When we followed the pediatrician's advice, Little L. slept less, waking still at the crack of dawn, and was grumpy ALL DAY. So we gave up on that too, and stuck to her 7pm bedtime.
Fast forward again, around 1 year old, she started sleeping through the night. That lasted about 2 or 3 months. Then, regression. Of course. She woke up several times each night, though this time I didn't nurse her back to sleep. We had already been down that road, and I wanted things to get better, not worse. So I would just go in and sit with her until she fell asleep again, in her crib, by herself. Sometimes rubbing her back, sometimes "shhh-ing", sometimes just being there was enough. I didn't try too hard, because this happened only a few weeks before our next trip back to the USA. She didn't need much of a push, though, and began sleeping again just fine. She was still relying on nursing to GET to sleep initially, though. And I still had no problem with it; I still work at home and have a pretty flexible schedule, and honestly...I love those special moments with her. She is growing up too fast, and I know this phase will end all too quickly too, so I want to enjoy it all while I can!
While in the USA, she slept surprisingly well for the first few weeks, even with changing schedules and time zones a bit. She even slept in because of all the traveling....there was one day where she went to bed around 6:30 and didn't wake up until after 8am, the next day! That was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long time!
Halfway through our trip, it began again. The waking up. And refusing to go back to sleep. My Mom was so helpful with getting over that bump in the road. She sat with Little L. when I just couldn't handle it anymore. It was during all this that Little L. just decided she could fall asleep on her own. Nothing in our bedtime routine changed; she just decided that after nursing and a cuddle, she was ready to fall asleep on her own in her crib. The first few days, I was amazed. I actually still am, a few months later. Since that first day she fell asleep on her own, she hasn't turned back! And that was about the same time she went back to sleeping all night. We did have to give her a push, though. Several long nights were spent listening to her cry in the middle of the night, checking on her, calming her down enough that she could fall back asleep, etc. But we got through it. And she doesn't hate me for letting her cry, which is a miracle to me!
So like I said from the start...I didn't follow any specific method. Yeah it was a long road, and I know that there will be more regressions, but it was good in the end to let her decide when she was ready to fall asleep on her own. I guess what I learned is that sleep training isn't always necessary. Little people learn to sleep on their own even without it.
Little L. still goes to bed at 7pm, and wakes up around 5:30am. Right now we are working on changing her wake-up time to somewhere around 6.... I guess I'll come back and report how we did that, when it happens! :) I am just glad she is sleeping better. She is happier, and I am too!
After my conversation with her, I got to thinking about Little L. and her sleep habits. Let me say right away that I don't believe in any specific methods, or that any of them even work all the time. Yeah, my experience is limited, but not so limited that I don't know that every child is different. Parents need to do their research, but they also need to adapt. I read several things that got me thinking, and what I ended up doing was nothing like any of them, in the end. One thing I DO believe in, though, is ROUTINE.
As a newborn, she was pretty easy, actually. Yeah, she woke up every two hours to eat, but that's normal and because it was routine, it was okay. My Mom was here for the first 4 weeks, so she helped us get Little L. into a regular sleeping pattern, so that she'd sleep all night (except for feedings). At that point, Little L. went to bed around 7:30 or 8pm, and slept until about 5:30, when she'd wake up and eat and lie in bed with me just being awake for a little while. Her first nap of the day was around 7, which is when I would eat, shower, etc. It was a nice morning routine.
This continued until Little L. was about 4 months old. Then...regression! Because Husband was gone a lot for work, I spent a lot of days and nights alone with Little L. She got into the habit of nursing herself to sleep around this time (before that, she'd sleep with anyone), which was actually fine with me. I worked at home anyway, so it was okay. Plus there is nothing like a holding a perfectly innocent, sweet, sleeping baby. <3
Skipping forward a few months, when Little L. was about 10 or 11 months old, we decided to try sleep training. We hadn't done it previously, because when Little L. was 5 months old, she and I spent 2 months visiting family in the USA...so it was pointless to me to try right before, or during that trip. She was sleeping okay when we got home, but it went downhill. I got to the point where I was just a big grump all the time, and pretty unhappy (also, another post for another day), and I didn't feel like I could handle it anymore, especially with being alone with her half the time. So Husband and I tried letting her cry it out. That night was awful. She cried for like 3 hours, slept for about 45 minutes, and then started over. IT. WAS. AWFUL! We gave up around 3am and I nursed her to sleep.
I had done a TON of research about sleep training, sleep methods, etc. We also talked to her pediatrician. She told us this was normal, and to start putting Little L. to bed later, to see if she'd wake up later in the morning. That failed too. As I mentioned earlier, Little L. has been an early riser from the start...that hasn't changed. She has always woken up around 5:30am, except for a short time where she kept creeping that back to 4:30 until we had to put a stop to it. When we followed the pediatrician's advice, Little L. slept less, waking still at the crack of dawn, and was grumpy ALL DAY. So we gave up on that too, and stuck to her 7pm bedtime.
Fast forward again, around 1 year old, she started sleeping through the night. That lasted about 2 or 3 months. Then, regression. Of course. She woke up several times each night, though this time I didn't nurse her back to sleep. We had already been down that road, and I wanted things to get better, not worse. So I would just go in and sit with her until she fell asleep again, in her crib, by herself. Sometimes rubbing her back, sometimes "shhh-ing", sometimes just being there was enough. I didn't try too hard, because this happened only a few weeks before our next trip back to the USA. She didn't need much of a push, though, and began sleeping again just fine. She was still relying on nursing to GET to sleep initially, though. And I still had no problem with it; I still work at home and have a pretty flexible schedule, and honestly...I love those special moments with her. She is growing up too fast, and I know this phase will end all too quickly too, so I want to enjoy it all while I can!
While in the USA, she slept surprisingly well for the first few weeks, even with changing schedules and time zones a bit. She even slept in because of all the traveling....there was one day where she went to bed around 6:30 and didn't wake up until after 8am, the next day! That was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long time!
Halfway through our trip, it began again. The waking up. And refusing to go back to sleep. My Mom was so helpful with getting over that bump in the road. She sat with Little L. when I just couldn't handle it anymore. It was during all this that Little L. just decided she could fall asleep on her own. Nothing in our bedtime routine changed; she just decided that after nursing and a cuddle, she was ready to fall asleep on her own in her crib. The first few days, I was amazed. I actually still am, a few months later. Since that first day she fell asleep on her own, she hasn't turned back! And that was about the same time she went back to sleeping all night. We did have to give her a push, though. Several long nights were spent listening to her cry in the middle of the night, checking on her, calming her down enough that she could fall back asleep, etc. But we got through it. And she doesn't hate me for letting her cry, which is a miracle to me!
So like I said from the start...I didn't follow any specific method. Yeah it was a long road, and I know that there will be more regressions, but it was good in the end to let her decide when she was ready to fall asleep on her own. I guess what I learned is that sleep training isn't always necessary. Little people learn to sleep on their own even without it.
Little L. still goes to bed at 7pm, and wakes up around 5:30am. Right now we are working on changing her wake-up time to somewhere around 6.... I guess I'll come back and report how we did that, when it happens! :) I am just glad she is sleeping better. She is happier, and I am too!
Friday, August 4, 2017
The Greatest Love Story I've Ever Heard (part 2....the real beginning)
After I arrived home from the mission, I just waited and hoped.
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long, because Best Friend emailed me the next chance he could. Summarizing the next 10 months, we exchanged emails and letters (letters were more me than him...I had more time, not being a missionary anymore! Plus his letters never really made it to me....they are STILL lost in the mail!). About halfway through those 10 months, it was cheap airplane ticket season, so I had to decide if I was really going to see him when he finished his mission or not.
It was kind of like standing on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if I'd make it down okay or not. Well, I jumped. We hadn't said anything too specific in all our letters/emails, but it was pretty obvious that we wanted to pursue this past just a friendship.
Best Friend got home from his mission at the end of June, 2012. 10 days later, I was at the airport, and he and his parents were there to pick me up. Well, almost. After I got my bags, I just kind of sat and waited for a little while. You know when you are so nervous for something, you are literally trembling? That was me. I was in the heat of BAHIA, Brazil, and shivering. It felt like I waited an eternity for them to show up. I'd had months to wonder how that first non-missionary moment would be, and had imagined probably 1500 different ways it could go.
When Best Friend did show up, nothing went according to a single one of those 1500 ways I had imagined. IT WAS MAGICAL! Better than I could have dreamt up!
I spent the next 17 days in BAHIA with Best Friend and his family; I stayed at his sisters' house, so I got to know them and their kids pretty well. We had fun getting to know each other in real life, not in a mission setting. We were back to being normal people, living normal lives, no longer missionaries. That's always an adjustment. We never did anything extravagant...we were both broke (still are! haha), and we were in a small middle-of-nowhere town that didn't have a lot of options or places to go. More importantly than that, though, we are both simple people and were just happy to be together. After spending 2 1/2 weeks together, I had return to the USA. I still had 2 years to finish at college. We decided that we would see each other at Christmas. Best Friend would get a tourist visa and then spend Christmas with my family up in the northern hemisphere. It was a good plan.
And yet, saying goodby that dreadful day in the airport was one of the hardest things I'd had to do. I'm not sure how long I cried on the airplane home....
(trust me, this story gets more interesting in the next part)
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long, because Best Friend emailed me the next chance he could. Summarizing the next 10 months, we exchanged emails and letters (letters were more me than him...I had more time, not being a missionary anymore! Plus his letters never really made it to me....they are STILL lost in the mail!). About halfway through those 10 months, it was cheap airplane ticket season, so I had to decide if I was really going to see him when he finished his mission or not.
It was kind of like standing on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if I'd make it down okay or not. Well, I jumped. We hadn't said anything too specific in all our letters/emails, but it was pretty obvious that we wanted to pursue this past just a friendship.
Best Friend got home from his mission at the end of June, 2012. 10 days later, I was at the airport, and he and his parents were there to pick me up. Well, almost. After I got my bags, I just kind of sat and waited for a little while. You know when you are so nervous for something, you are literally trembling? That was me. I was in the heat of BAHIA, Brazil, and shivering. It felt like I waited an eternity for them to show up. I'd had months to wonder how that first non-missionary moment would be, and had imagined probably 1500 different ways it could go.
When Best Friend did show up, nothing went according to a single one of those 1500 ways I had imagined. IT WAS MAGICAL! Better than I could have dreamt up!
I spent the next 17 days in BAHIA with Best Friend and his family; I stayed at his sisters' house, so I got to know them and their kids pretty well. We had fun getting to know each other in real life, not in a mission setting. We were back to being normal people, living normal lives, no longer missionaries. That's always an adjustment. We never did anything extravagant...we were both broke (still are! haha), and we were in a small middle-of-nowhere town that didn't have a lot of options or places to go. More importantly than that, though, we are both simple people and were just happy to be together. After spending 2 1/2 weeks together, I had return to the USA. I still had 2 years to finish at college. We decided that we would see each other at Christmas. Best Friend would get a tourist visa and then spend Christmas with my family up in the northern hemisphere. It was a good plan.
And yet, saying goodby that dreadful day in the airport was one of the hardest things I'd had to do. I'm not sure how long I cried on the airplane home....
(trust me, this story gets more interesting in the next part)
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
The Greatest Love Story I've Ever Heard (part 1...how we met)
For most of my life, I wanted to serve a mission. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and it always just felt like something I would do when I was 21. I went to college for two years after I finished high school, and then submitted my mission application as soon as I could, 3 months before turning 21. I got my letter in October 2009, and found out I would be going to São Paulo for 18 months. Mission Brazil São Paulo East, to be exact. I wouldn't leave until March 2010, though, so I finished up a couple online classes and worked in the meantime.
About the same time I arrived in São Paulo, at the CTM (Centro de Treinamento Missionário [Missionary Training Center]), Husband was getting his letter, and finding out that he would be serving his mission also in São Paulo East, arriving at the end of May (more about the mission in future posts!).
Fast forward a few months to January 2011, after I had been in Brazil for about 10 months, had already learned to speak Portuguese, and Husband had been on the mission for several months too, I had to call my District Leader (DL) to come interview a few people before their baptism. I had only been in Suzano for a couple weeks by that point, but already knew the other missionaries in the region (called a zone, in mission terms...the zone is split into districts and then into areas. Suzano was my area; the city I worked in).
Another detail about LDS missions, for those who are unfamiliar with them, the missionaries are always in pairs, never alone. I was in a trio at that point, because of an uneven number of Sisters at the time.
Anyway, when my DL showed up, he was with a new Elder. While my DL was off interviewing several people, the other Sisters and this new Elder and I got talking. I was sure I'd seen him before, though I couldn't place where. I asked him where I knew him from, and he said he knew me too, and tried convincing me that we were in the CTM together....until he finally had me believing that we were, and I just didn't remember him!
Over the next 8 months of my time as a missionary, we quickly and easily became good friends. Some of the places I served in had some problems he needed to fix (he was one of the mission secretaries at that point), so we became friends through that. Missionaries cannot date while serving missions, so when I say we were just friends, it is the absolute truth!
I went home, back to the USA, in September 2011. In the days leading up to my departure, I had to face reality about several things, one of which being the fact that this Elder had become my best friend. I knew that if I went home, and he went home later, our friendship would eventually end, as our paths went separate ways, we got married to different people, etc. Basically, I realized that I didn't want to lose my Best Friend, but that would only be possible if we ended up eventually building a life together. I wrote him a letter and delivered it to him as I walked out the door to the airport, telling him that I hoped we could keep in touch, and that I didn't want to lose him as my Best Friend.
On my way to the airport, and on the 24-hour trip home, I had a lot of time to think about a lot of things. One of the many things on my mind was the possibility of losing my Best Friend, and it just about broke my heart. I had no idea how he would react to my letter, or if he would even want to keep in touch, especially long-term. There were only two options, really...either stay in touch with the hopes of a future together, or just cut all ties. I couldn't have my own life in the USA and still have him as my Best Friend....the reality was that was just not possible. My future was a blank canvas, and I had no idea what colors would fill it.
About the same time I arrived in São Paulo, at the CTM (Centro de Treinamento Missionário [Missionary Training Center]), Husband was getting his letter, and finding out that he would be serving his mission also in São Paulo East, arriving at the end of May (more about the mission in future posts!).
Fast forward a few months to January 2011, after I had been in Brazil for about 10 months, had already learned to speak Portuguese, and Husband had been on the mission for several months too, I had to call my District Leader (DL) to come interview a few people before their baptism. I had only been in Suzano for a couple weeks by that point, but already knew the other missionaries in the region (called a zone, in mission terms...the zone is split into districts and then into areas. Suzano was my area; the city I worked in).
Another detail about LDS missions, for those who are unfamiliar with them, the missionaries are always in pairs, never alone. I was in a trio at that point, because of an uneven number of Sisters at the time.
Anyway, when my DL showed up, he was with a new Elder. While my DL was off interviewing several people, the other Sisters and this new Elder and I got talking. I was sure I'd seen him before, though I couldn't place where. I asked him where I knew him from, and he said he knew me too, and tried convincing me that we were in the CTM together....until he finally had me believing that we were, and I just didn't remember him!
Over the next 8 months of my time as a missionary, we quickly and easily became good friends. Some of the places I served in had some problems he needed to fix (he was one of the mission secretaries at that point), so we became friends through that. Missionaries cannot date while serving missions, so when I say we were just friends, it is the absolute truth!
I went home, back to the USA, in September 2011. In the days leading up to my departure, I had to face reality about several things, one of which being the fact that this Elder had become my best friend. I knew that if I went home, and he went home later, our friendship would eventually end, as our paths went separate ways, we got married to different people, etc. Basically, I realized that I didn't want to lose my Best Friend, but that would only be possible if we ended up eventually building a life together. I wrote him a letter and delivered it to him as I walked out the door to the airport, telling him that I hoped we could keep in touch, and that I didn't want to lose him as my Best Friend.
On my way to the airport, and on the 24-hour trip home, I had a lot of time to think about a lot of things. One of the many things on my mind was the possibility of losing my Best Friend, and it just about broke my heart. I had no idea how he would react to my letter, or if he would even want to keep in touch, especially long-term. There were only two options, really...either stay in touch with the hopes of a future together, or just cut all ties. I couldn't have my own life in the USA and still have him as my Best Friend....the reality was that was just not possible. My future was a blank canvas, and I had no idea what colors would fill it.
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
I never knew
I never knew that having a toddler would mean constantly throwing out half-eaten food. Does anybody else feel like they waste a ton of food because their toddler is hungry, and then suddenly not--halfway through chewing?
From my little experience with toddlers, their appetites oscillate. And we never know what kind of day it's going to be, until there is half-eaten food being spit back out, or not. Sometimes Little L. eats so much, it appears she hasn't eaten in a week. Other times, she eats maybe one slice of bread all morning. I wake up and the guessing games begin, day after day.
This morning, I made banana pancakes for breakfast. I was tired of the usual options we always have for breakfast. And not having maple syrup means you get pretty creative with pancakes. I sometimes make German pancakes and then make apple-type syrup for them, but that just seemed like a lot of work today. And I had some overripe bananas that I wanted to use. I used this recipe as a base, and then tweaked it a little. It's a hit! After eating a whole banana while I was making them, Little L. is now downing her second (big, fluffy) pancake! And I didn't put anything on them- I just fried them up in a little butter, and they are delicious plain, without any toppings or syrup! I'll definitely come back to this idea in the future, to switch things up a bit.
From my little experience with toddlers, their appetites oscillate. And we never know what kind of day it's going to be, until there is half-eaten food being spit back out, or not. Sometimes Little L. eats so much, it appears she hasn't eaten in a week. Other times, she eats maybe one slice of bread all morning. I wake up and the guessing games begin, day after day.
This morning, I made banana pancakes for breakfast. I was tired of the usual options we always have for breakfast. And not having maple syrup means you get pretty creative with pancakes. I sometimes make German pancakes and then make apple-type syrup for them, but that just seemed like a lot of work today. And I had some overripe bananas that I wanted to use. I used this recipe as a base, and then tweaked it a little. It's a hit! After eating a whole banana while I was making them, Little L. is now downing her second (big, fluffy) pancake! And I didn't put anything on them- I just fried them up in a little butter, and they are delicious plain, without any toppings or syrup! I'll definitely come back to this idea in the future, to switch things up a bit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)