Patience

I wouldn't say patience is one of my strongest traits. In fact - I hate waiting for anything. Sometimes even waiting for a red light will make my blood pressure rise. It's always been that way, but I think it is only getting worse as I get older.

I've always been one to make a decision, and then jump on it. Like the week after I graduated High School and decided on Sunday that I wanted to move out, and by Tuesday had moved into my own place. Or when Jason and I decided to get married a couple days before Thanksgiving, and by New Year's were already on our honeymoon.

Once a decision has been made, the waiting becomes pure torture for me.

And that's where I'm finding myself this week. We made the decision to move back to the states, the plane tickets are bought, but now I just have to wait. It's not that I'm anxious to leave England, because truth-be-told, I absolutely love this country. I'm just anxious to start the new phase - the phase that will hopefully lead to a job, and eventually settling down somewhere.

I'm anxious for my girls to have a yard to play in, walls to decorate, and toys that are worth keeping. I'm anxious to have to walk outside to get the mail, to live on a quiet street without fear of a double decker bus running over one of my girls, and a king size bed that is big enough to really stretch out on. I'm anxious for hot summer nights, and fireworks, and picnics at the park with cousins.

Luckily, I get to spend everyday of the waiting with these cuties who have no concept of time.

They take each day, and in fact, each moment, as it comes.

I am continually amazed at how fully they can enjoy the moment. Their laughter is medicine to me, and a reminder that this time will pass so quickly, and before I know it we will be back in the states, and I will be longing for the simple, quiet life we had here in London.

Spring Fevers

The sun has come out and all the daffodils are in full bloom. It is absolutely beautiful outside. I'll repeat what I said last year about this time, that London in the springtime is one of the most beautiful places I've seen.

We have been in all weekend with fevers, coughs, and all sorts of yuckiness. I'm hoping this is our last major bug for the winter.

In the late hours of last night as I was rocking Antalya, trying to calm her, and waiting for her fever to break so we could both get some much needed sleep, I couldn't help but think - as most mothers do - that I would do anything to help her feel better. The fact that I felt like death-warmed-over myself meant nothing when Antalya was suffering and needed me by her side.

Which made me think of the people of Japan and the awful things they are going through right now. I have complete faith in the resurrection and that the way has been prepared for us to be with our loved ones again one day, and I can accept that suffering is part of this life - something we must all pass through, but what breaks my heart is thinking of the children, and as a parent having to watch your child suffer.

What choice would one have if the tsunami alarm sounded and your little ones weren't with you? I'm sure most mothers of little children feel as I do that I am completely irreplaceable in their lives. No one else knows that Victoria must have her sippy cup, doggie, dolly, and puppy all wrapped tightly in her arms before she will fall asleep, or that after her bath, Antalya likes to be wrapped up tightly in a towel and held like a baby while I sing, "I've been working on the railroad." No one else understands intuitively what my little girls want, but can't quite explain. I can't imagine not being there to hold them when they are sick, or kiss their owies, or tuck them in at night.

So tonight, my prayers go out to all the little ones across the world that are without their mommys to tuck them in, and kiss them, and tell them how special they are.

Just My Thoughts

I have sat down several times in the last few days to blog, but nothing comes. Life seems to be just slowly moving forward with not much going on for the moment. I'm not complaining. It's kind of nice to have everything so calm right now. In fact, I'm trying my best to soak it all in.

Spring is right around the corner here in London. In fact, the last two days the sun has finally emerged from hibernation. We so rarely see the sun, that when it does come out it makes the whole city come alive. I just want to soak it up for as long as I can (which according to the weather forecast isn't very long).

But, unfortunately we are back to battling colds, and eye infections. We just can't seem to get rid of it for longer than a few days. So while the sun is calling me outside, I am instead tucked away in our little flat while the girls get a good afternoon nap.

Although I love the good it does to my soul to see the sun, it also leaves me feeling anxious knowing summer will be here before I know it, and with the passing of the summer comes the end of this chapter of our lives. In fact I can't seem to shake the ever present feeling of uncertainty. What are we doing next? Where are we going? How and when do we go there? What do we do in the meantime? And going right along with that are all my worries for Antalya's well being and education. How will we ensure she has insurance to access the health care system? How will she get the educational provisions she needs to succeed in school?

I know it does no good to think of the unknowns, but yet here I sit. Hopefully the girls will wake up soon and we can break out of this house and catch a few rays of sun before they set for the night.

How do you get through times of uncertainty?

First Dance Class

I signed Antalya up for a Jump and Dance class at our local art center. Today was the first session. She was really hesitant to go, because to her, anytime it's just me and her leaving the house she thinks we are headed to the doctor. She was happy when, even after all my insisting that we were not going to the doctor, we went somewhere that didn't at all resemble a doctor's office.

We had to wait several minutes while all the children arrived and filled out their questionnaire. Antalya stayed very busy running up and down the halls and pushing the buttons for the elevator. When it was finally time to go inside she did an amazing job of sitting next to the wall with all the other children and waiting. But as soon, as they asked all the children to stand up, the craziness began (sorry, but no pictures were allowed in the studio).

Antalya LOVES watching herself in the mirror. To have suddenly found herself in room with so many mirrors was more than she could resist. I let her do her own thing for awhile which included a really cool, funky moon-walk type thing on all fours, running, jumping, screaming at herself in the mirror, etc. But after about 5 minutes of this I realised that if I let her do what she wanted instead of listening to the teacher and following instructions, that the next 10 weeks that's exactly what she would do. So to Antalya's dismay, I insisted that she calm down and listen, and follow instructions. I carried her out of the room kicking and screaming several times.

By the end of the 45 minute lesson I was completely worn out and Antalya was just mad that she couldn't do what she wanted to do. What would you have done? Should I have just let her completely disrupt what the teachers were trying to do with the other children?

The thing that bothers me the worst is feeling all the other parent's eyes on me, and almost hearing them say to themselves, "I'm so glad that's not my child." I hate it because I love Antalya so much. I love how her having Down syndrome has changed me and changed our family. I wouldn't trade her for all the world. And so, I it really bothers me when she acts in a way that would make other people think what a difficult thing it would be to have a child with Down syndrome. Does that make any sense? I just want her to show the world that Down syndrome is a beautiful thing, and that she is more like all her peers than she is different.

Having just said that, I realise it's not fair for me to put such expectations on her. She's only four! So what is the answer? What do I do in a year from now when she is absolutely too big for me to carry out of room if she throws a tantrum. I know a lot of children with DS are smaller than average, but not my Antalya. She is just as tall as most of her peers, and easily weighs more than 45 lbs. Do I just let her do what she wants to do? I don't know what the answer is. So for now, I will just continue to try to do the right thing, making more than my fair share of mistakes along the way, and giving thanks every night that Antalya's love for me is so unconditional.

And hopefully when this 10-week dance course is finished I can say that I was glad we did it!

Thirty-One

You'd think turning 30 would've been the big one, but not so. Last year, my thirtieth birthday came and when in a blur of sick girls, jet lag, Christmas preparations, a family reunion, and my in-laws 50th wedding anniversary. It's easy to see how it just got overlooked, and I never bothered to spend much time thinking about the fact that I was entering a new decade of life. I felt like I could still hang onto the twenties for one more year.

But this one I saw coming! Turning 31 seemed to scream "grown up" all over it. The kind of "grown up" that means I know what I want from life, I know who I am, I take responsibility for my choices and willing accept the consequences, I stand up for what I believe, and fight for things I think are right. The kind of "grown up" that means I am no longer defined by what year of life I am in, or what year I graduated, or what I studied in college.

I guess in a way, for me, turning 31 is kind of like being handed a clean slate. The mistakes and follies of my teens and twenties are long gone, and my focus is now on the future- making my mark in the world, raising my children, strengthening relationships with loved ones, and building a life worthy of being remembered by my posterity.

Am I over-analyzing the growing old bit? Probably. But all the same, this year I feel different. I feel more confident, more sure of where I have come from, and where I am going. I hear my future calling and I am ready to take it on!

So, here's to being Thirty-Something!

Lesson Learned

One of the things that surprised me most about moving to a big city was how isolated one becomes. It seems the more people that occupy a given space, the more alone one becomes. In fact, I can see you easy it would be to live in a flat for decades and never know the person who lives below you.

I must admit, I've kind of fallen into that same mentality. I do greet my neighbors whenever our paths cross, but I have never invited them into our home, or taken the time to get to know them. Partly because I assume they are too busy to want to take the time, but mostly because it's easier to just live in my own little shell and not step out of my comfort zone.

But after today, that will change!

I was climbing the steps to our flat after returning from the grocery store. When I approached our door, I could hear yelling upstairs. I just about put my key in the door and ignored it, telling myself it wasn't my business what went on in the neighbors flat. But then, I made out a "help" among the screaming. I ran up the stairs and was surprised to see the keys in the door. So I opened it and found my neighbor laying on the kitchen floor surrounded by throw-up, having a seizure. I had never seen anything like it before. I quickly ran back downstairs and opened our door just long enough to yell at Jason to call the medics.

I returned to her side, but was clueless what to do. She was trying to tell me something but her mouth wasn't working, and only gurgled sounds came out. I tried to calm her and reassure her help was on the way. But that's when her body starting convulsing like nothing I have ever seen before. And then she went completely still.

That's when true panic set in. She had only passed out, but with my lack of experience to anything that goes beyond Neosporin and a band-aid I was terrified she was going to die. I quickly grabbed her to make sure she was breathing and her heart was pumping and then just starting praying as hard as I could that she would be alright and that the medics would get there "NOW"!

They finally got there. I felt embarrassed that I couldn't tell much more than her first name. But I was grateful that I at least knew that, and that I knew she was a single mom and had a baby and a 6 year old daughter that needed to be picked up from school. After the medics took over I found her baby sleeping in the other room. I picked him up and brought him down to our flat (the girls were ecstatic to have a baby in the house), and called the daughter's school to tell them what had happened and have them phone her emergency contact (luckily I had seen the name of the school printed on her daughter's uniform).

In the end it all worked out. Turns out my neighbor has epilepsy and these fits aren't too rare. She took a really bad fall to her head and is spending the night in the hospital. The daughter is with cousins, and the baby is with it's dad. And I'm still recovering from the fright of it all.

I am grateful I was in the right place at the right time to be of assistance. And I am reminded that despite what our natural tendencies tell us - we really do all need each other. We need to take the time to reach out to others and get to know them. If I hadn't been in the stair well to hear her screams before she passed out, it would've been hours before anyone found her and her baby.

So, I am repenting. I will get to know my neighbors - including the family below us that only seems to talk to us when they have a complaint against us. And, I will learn a few first aid skills - like what to do when your neighbor has a seizure. Because, really, you never know when you might need to step off your little island and help someone else.

A Backwards Step

About a week ago I told my husband how surprised I was that potty training Antalya was turning out to be so much easier than I had anticipated. Ha! I should know better than to say such a bold statement just a few weeks into the process, right? Well, last Saturday, whatever success I felt like we were having seemed to head down hill quickly. I'm not quite sure what prompted the change, but suddenly we went from having one-two accidents a day, to having more than I could count. I was hoping as this week went on we could get back on track, but things haven't changed much.

I've felt really frustrated about it for a couple days, and several times let Antalya know how frustrated I was. That obviously hasn't helped the situation much. But, like an answer to prayers, a friend posted this link on facebook for a seminar from the Boston Children's Hospital on Down syndrome and toilet training. I feel like a new woman after listening a bit of reality. The main points I got from the seminar were that it is alright to take a step back when needed, lots of accidents will happen and it's best to just not make a point of it, toilet training can be done wearing pull-ups, and toilet training is a big deal - especially for our Ds kiddo's.

So, I've adjusted. We're taking a step (or two, or three) back. My plan is to put Antalya back in diapers or pull-ups, but continue to have regular potty breaks every 45 minutes. Once she's staying dry most of the day, I'll up it to 1 hour, and so on, until we get to two hour stretches. Then we'll switch back over to panties and see how she does.

This whole potty training thing has made me realize some of my own faults. One of my big ones is that sometimes I forget Antalya has Down syndrome. I get so caught up in wanting her to be just like her peers that I forget to leave room for that extra chromosome of hers. I forget how much harder she has to work at things that just come naturally to other children, I forget that she learns differently, I forget that she needs to do things in her own way and in her own time. And in forgetting about the Down syndrome, I get frustrated and sometimes even angry when I think she should be able to do certain things and she's not. It's good that I feel the need to push her, but today I realized that more than someone always pushing her to do more and go faster, what Antalya really needs is someone to walk by her side. Someone who will be patient when she stumbles, help her up each time she falls, and cheer her on through each success. And so folks, that's exactly what I'm going to be! Because this cute little one is relying on me.

Mothers

When we found out Antalya had Down syndrome I felt like my whole world had suddenly changed and that my life would never be the same from that moment on. In many respects, that's true. My world did change. I became more aware of people with different abilities. I saw them everywhere I went. And every time I would meet someone with different abilities I would think of their mother and how much love she must feel for them.

And life most definitely hasn't been the same from that moment on. But that's not all to do with Down syndrome. You see, in that moment, when I found out that my unborn child would enter the world not only with health problems, but also with a life-long disability, I suddenly became a mother. Although I had been carrying my child inside me for nearly 8 months, I had never felt connected to her, until that moment. Suddenly she was all I could think about. I wondered what she would look like, what things she would enjoy doing, what parts of me did she inherit, what parts of her dad did she inherit. I prayed constantly for her - that she would be strong enough to survive the birth, the surgery, the recovery. I prayed that I would be strong enough to be her mommy, that I would love her for who she was, and that I could help her be all she could be.

Down syndrome seemed like such a huge part of my world for a long time. In fact, it's just recently that I have noticed a change in my thoughts. I no longer think about Down syndrome, and the implications the extra chromosome will have in Antalya's life. I no longer feel separated from other moms who only have typically developing children.

I don't know why it has taken my nearly four years to realize that being a mom to any child regardless of their abilities, or disabilities, is just like being a mom! We're all in the same boat. We all have moments where we feel like our heart is so full of love it might burst, and moments when we feel like we are going to loose it, moments of pure joy, and moments where we wish we could have just five minutes all to ourselves. But that's just part of the incredibly fulfilling, exhausting, trying, rewarding job title that we as mothers hold.

Parent Partnership Conference

Yesterday I got the luxury of attending an all day conference for parents of kids with special needs. It was magical! I learned a bunch about what to expect with the school systems here if we happen to stay longer than expected, got lots of info about programs and resources (that I haven't had a chance to really look through yet, but I will), and attended some great workshops.

The first one focused on managing challenging behaviors. The speaker offered a great new perspective and some tips to manage the melt-downs before they happen and make the best of it when they do. Sometimes I feel as a parent I get so bogged down by little things that I forget the bigger picture. It was such a revelation to me when she explained that in order to fix a problem we need to stop focusing on when things go bad and start focusing on all the times when things are going good. The answer to managing the challenging behavior is not found by looking at the behavior, but by analyzing all the times it is not occurring to find a way to prevent the behavior - or minimize it when it does occur. I've only been home for 24 hours, but I can already see how me changing my perspective is helping make our home a happier place to be.

The second workshop focused on multi-sensory learning. The instructor had some really good thoughts and ideas to share. The ending consensus was that we all need to spend more time outside playing and getting dirty.

I'm so grateful I could have this little time-out for myself. I feel so renewed and ready for anything that comes my way. I feel like I can look motherhood and any challenges that come this way in the eyes and say, "bring it on!" (but only after some much needed Zzzz's)

The Honest Truth

I miss the special needs support network I had before we moved. I didn't realize what a incredible blessing it was to have so many friends with children with Down syndrome, and to be involved in the Early Intervention program which surrounded us with other developmentally delayed children.

Antalya is the only child with special needs in her school. It's great for her, but I struggle a lot with it. Just getting to and from school with both Antalya and Victoria is an ordeal. An ordeal that I don't mind, except for the fact that everyone else in the preschool seems so perfectly British in that they are so proper and well-behaved, and I feel every pair of eyes on us every time we enter and leave.

I know I'm being ultra-sensitive here, but I resent that fact that every day several others moms see me struggling to communicate with Antalya, and see me struggle as I try to keep her with me as I push Victoria in the stroller, and see me struggle as I try to work through Antalya's meltdowns. I feel like they pity me, which probably isn't true, but it's how I feel. I want them to reach out to Antalya because she is a darling, fun, loving, and sweet three year old. I don't want them to see the way she screams and hits, and throws herself on the concrete because someone thought they were being kind by holding the gate open for us instead of letting Antalya do it herself, or because someone said hello to Antalya in just the wrong way and made her feel threatened, or because someone rode their bike to school and Antalya doesn't understand why it isn't her bike.

I don't want her classmates to know her as the girl that doesn't talk, or the girl that yells when she is frustrated, or the girl that doesn't use the toilet like all the rest of them, or the girl that is different. I want them to love her because she is funny. Because she loves to have fun. Because she is so full of life. Because she has so much love for everyone.

Sometimes I just want us to be like everyone else. To not hear little voices asking their moms why Antalya does things the way she does, to not have eyes watching our struggles. To just be one of the crowd.

Breathe It In

I have been feeling a certain calmness entering my life lately. I'm not quite sure when it began. I think it's been sneaking up on me for several weeks now, yet it still has caught me by surprise. It's not that I'm not normally a calm person - before the upheaval of 7 months ago - I would've listed "calm" as one of my character traits. In fact it used to be that it took quite a bit to get me riled up. But somehow amidst all the changes that entered my life several months ago, I was changed. Call it what you may - I'd like to blame it on stress, lack of sleep, and postpartum depression, but whatever it was - it wasn't me. There were weeks on end where every minute felt like an hour, and every hour felt like a day. And I wondered when things would get easier.

Well, like all things in life - the only thing constant is change - and change has come. It hit me one day last week after the girls and I ate lunch. Antalya was happily watching Sesame Street, Victoria was happily playing with some toys on the floor, and I was thinking of all the things I needed to get done during nap time. The girls were so content, I thought I would run into the kitchen and get lunch cleaned up. One thing led to another, and before I knew it I had done the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, mopped the floor, and thrown a load of laundry in. And when I returned I was surprised to find that Antalya hadn't poked any eyes out, or smothered her sister with blankets. There were no crayon marks on the couch, nothing broken, nothing out of place. There was no knot in my stomach wondering how we were going to make it through the day. In fact, all three of us had smiles on our faces - true smiles. Not the grin and bear it smile, but smiles of genuine happiness.

And there was a calmness in the air. And I breathed it in.

And I can honestly say, Life has never been better! Maybe this is just the calm before another whirlwind of changes. But for however long it last - I will soak it up, smother my girls with happiness, and find a way to bottle the excess so I have a reserve for whatever life throws at us next.

Which might be sooner rather than later.

On the docket for this afternoon is a train ride to a much dreaded annual eye exam for this goof

I'm soloing it with both girls. Wish me luck :)

A Common Thread

One the greatest things about having a child with Down syndrome is the connection you instantly have with over 1 million other families throughout the world. Although each one of our children are an individual and different in many ways, the path we walk as parents is very similar despite differences in race, religion, or politics. I love that a child with Down syndrome is recognized immediately and without having to say a single word, two mothers who cross paths on the street can form a bond with no more than a glance to both children and a big smile to one another.

We had one such encounter this morning on our walk to school. We passed a mother and her handsome elementary aged son. A quick glance at Antalya and her face lit up with a grin. Mine followed suit. Although she was engaged in a conversation with another mom, she stopped to say hello to Antalya and tell her what a beautiful pink coat she was wearing. We in turn shared a few words and then waved goodbye.

Albeit brief - our small interaction made my day. Without saying more than a few words, I felt connected to someone. And not just anyone - but a mother who understands what I feel. A mother who has fought for the education and acceptance of her child, a mother who has spent nights worrying about the health of her child, a mother who has been to appointment after appointment to make sure her little one is getting all the care they need, a mother who understands about sensory issues, eating issues, and sleeping issues, a mother who has felt indescribable joy when her child learned to clap their hands, or sit up on their own, or take their first step, or use their first sign, a mother knows words like OT, PT, T&A, CPAP, ENT, IEP, EI, a mother who knows how frustrating communication can be sometimes. A mother who knows all the love I feel for Antalya because she feels the same for her son.

Today I am reminded that the common thread of Down syndrome that I share with so many is one of the greatest blessings in my life.

"She's Not My Friend"

This morning I took Antalya to preschool as usual. We were hanging up her coat in the bathroom while another cute little kid was washing his hands at the sink. Antalya went over to say hello to him. He looked up at me and quickly said, "she's not my friend!" I politely reminded him that all the kids in preschool were his friend. He didn't seem to agree and was quick to tell me once more that Antalya was not his friend.

I could've been very hurt by his words, but come on - he's three! And chances are he wasn't saying it based on anything that had to do with Antalya. She's been in his class for less than two weeks. I'm sure he was merely stating a fact that he has many friends at school, and that Antalya just didn't happen to be one. I get that.

He may not have meant any harm by his words, but I know that one day someone will say something similar and they will mean harm by it. Will I have to teach Antalya how to not take offense at others words and actions, or will her innocence carry her through all the hurtful things out there?

And really, how anyone (even a 3 year old) could not completely adore this sweet face is beyond me!

A Mother's Gift

Being a mother is hard work! I'm sure every mother out there would agree. Every day is such a balancing act. And every day it seems I struggle with the same things - loosing my patience when I really shouldn't, getting upset over spilled milk, worrying that I'm not doing enough, wondering if I am becoming the mother they both need me to be, and trying to find the balance between disciple and just go.

But at the end of the day, when I tuck my girls into bed and watch them drift off into peaceful sleep, all of the worrying, wondering, and frustration melts away. When I am cuddled in bed, reading stories with Antalya, or when Victoria is nestled in to my chest, it doesn't seem to matter how many times I lost my patience during the day, or how many mistakes I made. I know that they love me, and they know that I love them - and everything else falls into the background. I like to think of these quiet moments as God's gift to mothers. As I watch them sleep I feel renewed energy and determination to be better the next day.

She's Back

Well, faithful blog readers, I'm sorry to leave you with nothing for so long. Jason had a big term paper to write. So, for nearly two weeks my husband disappeared and along with him went the laptop. We survived. And now, suddenly I find myself nearing the middle of December and wondering where the time has gone. We fly home for the holidays in less than a week! By the time we come back to England and get over the jet lag Victoria will be six months old (I can't believe it), and Antalya will start preschool five days a week.

When I sit back and think about my life I am amazed at all the changes that come with time. Sometimes I wish I could just freeze the moment to make it last a little longer.

When we first arrived here in London, I wondered if Antalya would ever be the same. It seemed getting a little sister, watching all her belongings slowly disappear as they got packed away, traveling on an airplane for a day, then suddenly finding herself in a new home, in a strange environment, surrounded by strangers, and no cousins or grandparents to play with took quite the toll on my little one.

Well, folks, I'm happy to say that as of a few weeks now, Antalya is back! She wakes with a grin, laughs, dances, and sings nearly all day long (and speaking of laughter - Victoria is all giggles these days), and has very few meltdowns (somedays not even a single one!). With all this has come an increased desire to communicate using words. Every day she picks up a few more and she is even beginning to form lots of two-three words phrases. Here's some of my favorites:

cold ba-bee peas (hold baby please)
za ba-bee (the baby)
oh ba-bee (baby is sad, I better go make her happy)
pee-boo (peek-a-boo)
ba-bye see ya
gay-goo (thank you)

And if you thought this certain three year old needs a little help with tasks around the house, think again. She doesn't hesitate to let anyone know that she does NOT need help brushing her teeth, climbing into the bathtub, getting something down from the top shelf, turning on the computer, or opening her own candy wrappers.

But, boy do I love her spunk!

Thursday Thirteen - Until I Became a Mother of Two...

When I held Antalya in my arms for the first time, I felt as if I had been born to be her mother; everything up until that point had had the single purpose of preparing me for that moment when I finally became a mother! The adjustment between being a 9-5 office worker to a full-time mom came so naturally. I felt like I could indeed raise a house-full of children and my dream of having children of my own and then adopting several more would become reality.

But then I became a mother of two!

I have to smile thinking back at my naivety. Don't get me wrong - I still absolutely love being a mother and I wouldn't trade anything in the world for my two little darlings. But having the two of them sure has taught me some things.

Until I became a mother of two...
1. I never cheered to get 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep a night.
2. I never understood how a single piece of chocolate could make it all better.
3. I never dreamed I could feel so much love.
4. I never looked in complete awe at others who have more than two children and wondered how they did it.
5. I never served dinner from a can.
6. I never considered a five-minute morning shower a complete luxury.
7. I never considered McDonald's drive thru an "eating out experience".
8. I never was too busy to forget to brush my teeth in the morning.
9. I never had such piles of laundry.
10. I never imagined I could have two babies so completely different from each other.
11. I never so often laid awake at night full of so much gratitude that sleep was impossible.
12. I never prayed to become like Super Woman.
13. I never felt so much joy!

Sisters

I have four wonderful brothers, but not a single sister. Growing up I always told myself I wouldn't want a sister anyways - it would just mean I would have to share my room, my toys, my clothes, and all the attention of being "the only girl". When we found out we were expecting baby #2 I was convinced it was going to be a boy - after all, Antalya needed a brother, right? Someone strong to take care of her, to protect her, to fight her battles for her. I was completely shocked when we found out we were expecting another girl. I worried that maybe they wouldn't get along, that there would be jealousies, that they wouldn't be friends. I know this are all silly things to think - but then again - I never knew what having a sister meant.

A few days ago Antalya tugged on my arm (her way of getting my attention), said "baby", then signed "friends". I asked her if the baby was her friend and she replied with a big grin on her face, "ya!" And then this morning the three of us were sitting on our bed; Victoria would squeal, then Antalya would try to mimic her squeal. They did this back and forth and then suddenly they both giggled at the same moment. This momma's heart melted. I think God knew exactly what he was doing when he sent Antalya a little sister!

This I Believe

I'm an NPR (National Public Radio) junky. Or at least I was before I left the states. They have these great segments called "This I Believe". They are essays written by ordinary people and then read out loud over the air. I love listening to them because they are so honest and heartfelt. Every time I hear one I take a few moments to ponder what I would write if I were to write a "This I Believe" essay. Today the answer finally hit me.

There were those who thought I was out of mind moving to a one of the biggest cities in the world with a newborn baby and...um, well, how do you sum up my oldest daughter? Let's just say that is absolutely crucial to her survival for me to know exactly where and what she is doing every second of the day. I knew motherhood would be a full time job, but I never expected it to be so literally a full time job as it is with my daughter. But that's beside the point. So, some people thought I was crazy. I could agree with them that moving to, and living in London would not be the easiest undertaking.

I must admit I have my moments, and sometimes, entire days that I wish it were easier, or that I could drop by my mom's house for the afternoon to have a break, or call up a friend who understood and go for a walk. This morning was one of those LONG moments. It was all I could do to just hold it together and make it through the until lunch. I was wondering how I was going to survive the day (and the next, and the next...), and doubting why I wanted to come here in the first place. But then a miracle happened, and I was reminded why we moved here in the first place. I put the babe in her crib awake; five minutes later, and without a peep she was fast asleep. Next I told toddler it was time to take a nap. She laid down with me, and without a struggle fell right asleep (this a first in our household. Usually nap time is pretty ugly; the babe cries for an hour while I wrestle with the older one until she finally falls asleep, then I comfort the babe and get her to sleep just as the older one is waking up). I believe it wasn't happen chance that nap time happened as it did today. It was reminder that I am not alone, and that when I need it most, relief always comes.

You see, I believe there is a higher power guiding our lives. Many times we don't see it, won't admit it, or are so caught up in our own agenda that we refuse to follow it, but that doesn't deny the fact that it is there. I'd like to say I have always followed the promptings I have received, but that would be a lie. But one thing is for sure. That higher power is what has led us to London. For reasons other than what I know, this is where our little family is supposed to be for now. And when I have days where I feel completely alone, I am always sent a reminder that I am not; that there is Someone walking right by my side every step of the way. This I believe!

I awoke this morning with all four of us cuddled together on the king mattress on the floor in an empty room with just a single blanket thrown over us. Today is the day! Our flight to London leaves in several hours. As I was lying there while everyone was still sound asleep I couldn't help but look around at the bare walls and the emptiness of the room and think about the day we moved into that apartment over four years ago. Jason and I were newly weds. The future was wide open and we felt like we could conquer the world as long as we had each other.

Who knows where the future will lead us. But this morning as I lay reflecting on where we've come from and where the future might take us I was happy with the knowledge that whatever happens - the four of us are in this together. We are a family! And tomorrow when I wake up on a different continent I will still have the people I love the very most by my side.

Change is Coming

I've always enjoyed change - especially changing my surroundings. From the time I graduated high school until when I got married seven years later I lived in more than ten different places. I have such fond memories of everyplace I have ever called home, but at the same time, I enjoyed the unknown of each move I made. I must admit that when Jason was trying to convince me to move here more than four years ago the only reason I agreed to it was because we both agreed we would be here for only six months. That six months soon turned into one year, which turned into six months more, then six months more, then "we'll stay until something else comes up". Well, with very mixed emotions, our time is here!

I am so excited to start a new adventure in a new place, a new home, with new surroundings, but yet I can't help but feel sadness of leaving our home here. For the first time in my adult life, I feel like I really started to lay down my roots. There is so much I will miss when we board the plane for London in 10 days.

One of the joys of living here is the river trail. The trail passes right behind our home, and is a popular path for wlkers, joggers, and bikers. Since Antalya was born I have used the trail nearly every day - whether it was taking the dog for a walk, walking to the park or grocery store, training for a marathon, teaching Antalya about nature, or just plain enjoying some fresh air we always head to the trail. I've learned to look forward to the way the change of seasons changes the pathway. In the winter the path becomes a frozen wonderland. The snow sticks to the branches of the trees creating a magically canopy overhead. In the spring, the river rages down the river bed and cotton covers the walkway. In the summer, the trees provide a much needed reprieve from the heat. And in the fall the leaves crunch under your feet and the river slows. I will miss you, dear river walkway!