November

Happy Thanksgiving!  We had a great day, but very busy and I'm glad my dishes are finally done and I get to put my feet up.  Super thankful for a moment of rest right now!

Where did November go?  It seems like I blinked and it was gone.  We kind of have a lot to do and I just realized we only have a little over a month before we cross the big blue ocean and start our new adventure.  I'm waiting for the holy-crapola-freakout emotional meltdown to happen when this reality sets in.  I know it's coming sooner or later.  Anyway, here's what we've been up to the last few weeks.

We got our passports!  The girls' are pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen.  The process to get them was a bit trying as it took ALL DAY.  First we all got our pictures taken at Walgreen's and they told us not to smile...and for kids that have been trained their entire lives to cheese when a camera is put in front of their faces, it was a tall order.  Cbear kept giggling and Jellybean was grinning so hard I literally had to tell her to make a sad face in order to get the photo right.  Clint's turned out great, but since I normally walk around grinning like an idiot all day long, my unsmiley face looks really weird and kind of ticked off.  Now that I think about it, that's probably actually what I will look like after a transatlantic flight with two small children.  Genius, U.S. government.

Next we headed to the post office with what we thought was all of our paperwork.  Of course after being there for like an hour with Jellybean trying to Houdini her way out of the stroller and me trying to keep Cbear from swinging on the line-forming ropes like Tarzan while the husband talked with the post office lady, we figured out we were missing a few things.  We headed to lunch while Clint called some people from work to get what we needed, and they pulled through and had it all ready by the time the girls were done happily smearing their faces, hands and clothes with queso from their favorite Mexican place.  Thank goodness we did the pictures first thing.

Back to the post office we went, and this time I wised up, didn't bother with the stroller and came armed with My Little Pony via Netflix on my phone instead.  That kept both the girls entertained for most of the time, although Cbear got bored after a while and decided to keep busy by picking out birthday cards for herself from the selection along the wall.  I was getting antsy because we were well into Jellybean's nap time, but the nice lady who was helping us handed out lollipops and everyone was pretty content considering we had been waiting in lines most of the day.  We made it out alive and had the passports in hand the next week!  The next step is our visas, which are currently being processed.

Other than getting things ready for the move, the only thing the girls and I have been doing is fighting sickness...I really hope we're getting all of this out of the way now before Christmas and traveling...although I'm trying to not have nightmares about all the germs we're going to encounter on flights and in airports alone.  Thank goodness Jellybean has stopped rolling around on public bathroom floors while I'm helping Cbear not fall in the toilet...most of the time, anyway.  Now if I could just keep her from sticking her fingers in the drain in the middle of the floor...gag.  If you hear a crazy mama in the big bathroom stall in Wal-Mart shrieking "don't touch anything!" and "hold onto me, not the toilet seat!" yeah, it's probably me.  I also apologize if you're sitting in the stall next to us and a tiny blonde peeping tom-ette sticks her head under the stall and stares at you while you do your business.  I only have so many hands.

Anyway, first they both had your run-of-the-mill colds...no big deal.  Then, the next week Cbear came down with pinkeye, followed closely by Jellybean.  Do you know what the worst thing EVER is?  I'll tell you: it's administering antibiotic eyedrops twice a day for a week to a toddler and a preschooler.  It takes at least two adults and the stars to align perfectly in order to actually get the drops in their eyes, not to mention keep them from rubbing it out once it's in there.  And since Clint was usually at work for the morning dose, well, I was just the best mom ever sitting on top of them and wrangling their thrashing heads and squirting $93 per 3 ml of eyedrops (and that's with insurance!) all over my living room carpet.  I hope they didn't learn any bad words that week...I had my moments of weakness.  On top of that, Cbear had an ear infection (which can apparently be caused by pinkeye) and had to be on another antibiotic for ten days.

We hadn't even finished the last doses when Jellybean came down with a runny nose and cough, followed by Cbear a few days later.  I quarantined them for nearly a week, thought they were getting better and took Cbear to get her ears checked to make sure the infection was gone.  As luck would have it, her eye was red and irritated that day, but not goopy like before with pinkeye, so I just thought she had gotten something in it.  Nope.  Pinkeye again, and the ear infection was still there.  Are you kidding me?  Needless to say I've abandoned the I'm-trying-to-be-a-good-mom-and-only-use-natural-chemical-free-cleaning-supplies, and now I'm lysoling and clorox wiping the heck out of my house.  So help me if Jellybean comes down with pinkeye again there will be a RECKONING.  We're on day 3 of both antibiotics for Cbear and everyone seems to be on the mend, so I'm sure hoping the worst is behind us.  I hate it when my babies are sick, but at this point I almost have to laugh at the ridiculousness of the last month and how we can't catch a break.  I will never take my children's health for granted again!

That's all for now...I'll try to keep the blog updated during this crazy process.  Also, I just checked my clock and it's after midnight now, which means it's officially Christmas season!  I'll formally apologize to my husband right now for the 24/7 Christmas music that's going to be happening at our house...he just loves that so much.  Love you, hon!  And good night, all!

The Winds of Change...

They're sure a-blowin' around our house.  In January we'll be heading off to jolly old England for eighteen months!  What what?! The husband had a great opportunity with his company and we couldn't turn it down, so now we're scrambling around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to work out details, make appointments, and fill out lots of paperwork (the not-so-fun aspect of all of this).  We're looking forward to being off on our very own adventure (Yay! The fun part!).

I used to be the kind of person who hated change.  If things were going well, why go along and upset that?  I come from a long line of change-resisiters, and coupled with the fact that my family and I are all sentimental saps, well, I wanted things to stay the same as they were in "the good ol' days."

But that's life, right?  Ever-changing.  If things were always the same, life would get boring and stagnant.  And we might not appreciate the good moments when they do come along.

Somehow in the past few months, I find that I have changed.  Maybe it has something to do with the man I married eight and a half years ago.  He embraces change, and I think it's finally starting to rub off on me.  Or perhaps it's the fact that we've moved six times in the course of our marriage, so I've never gotten completely settled somewhere.  Maybe it's becoming a mom, where I'm often in a situation of adapt or perish (okay, that's a tad melodramatic, but you know what I mean). 

Whatever the reason, I find myself itching for change when things have been the same for too long.  It's like a breath of fresh air, invigorating and making me feel alive.  Remind me that I said this when I'm in England in the dead of winter and huddling around my S.A.D. lamp (I've already been browsing for one!  It's cold, wet, and dark there, y'all.) and crying into my hot chocolate.  I know I'll have those moments, but I'm hoping getting to experience the adventure of a lifetime with my favorite people will get me through the sad days (that and Skype. So much Skype.  And visitors, pretty please?). 

This realization about myself, that I actually want to seek out change, has been surprising.  It's not like it sprung from discontentment.  I love our life here.  It's pretty easy and safe (besides doing battle occasionally with two tiny tyrants) and we are surrounded by wonderful family and friends.  However, this desire for England came out of nowhere, and it was on my mind before there was any mention of a job opportunity there.  It just felt like that's where we're supposed to be.  So when the offer came, there wasn't much of a question in my mind as to whether or not I wanted to go.  

Clint and I talked together and prayed about it, and really feel like we've been given a rare gift that not many get to experience.  Sure, it would be easier and more comfortable to stay.  The thought of leaving everyone and everything we've ever known is super scary.  We wonder if it's the right thing for the girls and if they will adapt easily, or if we're in for some rough waters.  Yet, we want to teach them even at their young ages to not miss out on something amazing just because you're afraid.

Our future isn't looking like anything we've imagined, and that is both terrifying and exciting.  Not knowing what will happen is stretching our faith, but we're trusting that God has a plan and future for us.  We're trying (gulp) to have courage and know that he will be with us wherever we go.  We sure hope we're up to the task of experiencing and loving on a completely new culture.  And not being ugly Americans...please, please let's not be the ugly Americans.  Cheers!

Raising Warrior Princesses

This is not a post about Xena...or Zena, or however you spell that.  Rather, its about the kind of daughters I hope to raise.

This is something that's been on my mind for a while, but I really got to thinking about it this morning when CBear dressed herself in a frilly sundress and then said, "Hey, Jellybean, let's swordfight!  That's a great idea!" They proceeded to my closet to choose "swords" (hangers...don't ask me why).  Of course, in true girl fashion, it took a while to choose the right color of weapon.  Then they went off to battle each other, and I let them have at it.

This is not the first time something like this has happened.  CBear went through a huge Mulan obsession in the summer and we had to re-enact fighting the Huns about five times a day for a few weeks.  And you know what?  I'm okay with that, because I want to raise a different kind of princess.

I've never been a huge fan of the princess culture surrounding little girls, mostly because what springs to mind when I think of it is spoiled, selfish, entitled girls.  Maybe that's wrong of me and my view is skewed, but living with two little girls who love princesses AND swords has forced me to deal with this issue and I've decided: I want to raise warrior princesses.

My girls love dressing up as princesses.  We have a whole drawer dedicated to princess and fairy costumes, which they complete with my old jewelry.  They dance and twirl in puffy skirts and tutus and want their daddy to tell them they're beautiful.  Glitter shows up all over my house and I have no idea how it got there.  CBear may have asked me on more than one occasion where her prince is because he needs to take her to the ball.  And yet, especially with my her fierce personality, another aspect of princess-hood has manifested.  CBear, with Jellybean following after her, doesn't want to be JUST a princess.  If there is something wrong, she wants to fight to make it right.  I'm good with that.  She has a deep sense of good and evil, and that there is always a battle to be won.  Why do we try to shelter kids from that?  Let's give them a little credit- they figure it out pretty quickly.

Whenever we are reading, watching a tv show or telling a story, CBear always wants to know who the bad guy is.  Stories without a villain aren't worth her time, apparently, because she shushes me and asks for another one.  But if there is a villain to battle, she gets very excited about justice being served and everyone getting to live happily ever after in the end.  And then we usually act it out, per her request.

So, clearly I'm not one of those moms who bans toy swords/guns and wrestling with each other on the floor (its a normal occurrence around here...how much worse are boys, again?  I could be in for it if we have any sons in the future).  And I'm not one bit concerned they're going to end up as sociopaths.  I'm certainly not going to freak out if they bite a pop-tart in the shape of a gun or try to shoot each other with bubble ammo (have you seen or read about these types of things happening?  Ridiculous.)

So, as far as princesses go around here: I'm trying to instill that yes, they can be beautiful with sparkly, twirly dresses.  But they are also kind, generous, brave, and willing to fight for what is right.  At least, I hope the message is sticking.  Now, you'll have to excuse me while I go find my cardboard scimitar and spying scope...