A Time to Cook

A few days after moving in, amidst the chaos that brings, I threw up my hands and declared to Kraig and the kids not to expect homemade meals for a while. Life was too nuts, and the family was just going to have to put up with freezer meals and take-out.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on stress levels), my family likes home cooked meals, Kraig being the chief of these lovers. That evening of my explosion he wisely didn't argue. But a day later (when I was calmer) he said, "Why don't you take a few days and concentrate on getting the kitchen in order. Forget the rest of the house. I think you'll feel better about cooking and everything else once the kitchen is done."

I probably bared my teeth and growled at him. Even in a calmer mood there seemed too much to do to think about kitchens and meals. But after grumbling I cracked down on the kitchen and got it in decent working order.

And the truth is, it did help immensely. I enjoy cooking, and in a lot of ways it's therapy for me. It's a creative outlet in the midst of a life stage that doesn't permit a lot of personal creativity. An ordered kitchen and home cooked meals are part of the core of our home. Kraig was right. Everything else could be taken care of once there was a kitchen and meals on the table.

So despite the fact that one child groaned when she discovered what was for dinner tonight, I know we'll get a decent meal. The majority of the family will be happy with it, and even the grumpy child will be nourished. And if the rooms don't all get painted when I'd like, at least we'll have something to eat.

Rainy Day Friday

No headache today thanks to Kraig's shoulder massage and a couple ibuprofen last night. The rain that held off yesterday came steadily today, too. The rain postponed a Fall Fest morning with the homeschool community and a lunch date with new friends, but our spirits weren't dampened. It was a day for coziness.

Friday is typically a quieter day anyway and I was relaxed enough (for the most part) to make sure the kids did was needed to be done without too much pressure.

And there was plenty of time to read,

play LEGO,

and let the dolls enjoy a tea party.

We sanded some furniture we're refinishing and then ran to a couple stores. I will say taking all three kids grocery shopping is often either an exercise in futility, or a test to see if I can hold my temper. I'm not sure what or if any of us are learning something. Whatever the case, we survived and were able to pick up Kraig.

Dinner ended up a bit late, but it's Friday night which usually means a show or movie to watch. Kraig and I have had fun introducing the kids to A-Team reruns lately. After that it was a wrap up with story time and Kraig giving the kids lessons on how to speak like Donald Duck...or is it Uncle Scrooge? I couldn't understand a word of it.

Day is done--just about. Tomorrow is another project Saturday. We'll take it.

Not Much of Anything

I have little to share today. It's been a nothing-much of a day and I have a headache because my shoulders are in knots, so my thinking is muddled. I need to beg a shoulder massage off of Kriag :) .

It should have poured today. The cloud loomed and thunder rumbled, but it only rained away from us. But that did mean the kids and I could take a walk without getting soaked, so that was nice.

About mid-afternoon Ev charged in to where I was. "Mom!" she exclaimed, "there's no water!" And sure enough, all of the water faucets in the house were completely inoperable. I called our local water company and they confirmed that there was a leak in the neighborhood and the repair would "only be a couple of hours." It's amazing how slowly the hours pass without water access when you aren't prepared. The walk we took did help pass the time. Thankfully the water returned in time to make dinner, but not in time to get to some other projects that required water.

I seem to have wasted a good bit of time today. The kids got done what they needed to do, but I had the vague feeling I should challenge them more, but instead my mind was mush.

Ah well, perhaps I'll be more with it tomorrow. I'm off to get that shoulder massage....

How to Avoid Thinking

It seems like most of our days right now are non-stop motion. Today was no exception. We were up early to get Kraig off; we only have one car right now, so unless we organize things to be sure that the kids and I don't need the car for the day we need to run Kraig to the school and pick him up in the evening. It's a much better commute than when we lived in Michigan and Kraig was driving to and from Detroit each day, 40 minutes each way. However our new 15 minute commute is a far cry from Guadalajara when we waved goodbye and Kraig walked across the street to the campus. 

Each weekday after Kraig's off we have the blur of school for the kids. Some days go more seamlessly than others there. Today the kids got their work done and didn't complain, but I was disorganized, so I felt like there was mass chaos even though there wasn't. The house kind of exploded with mess, and we ran out of black printer ink just when I needed it. Of course. I have three boxes with colored ink because we stocked up on it when we went to Guadalajara. Black ink, apparently, got short shrift.

Then we had to rush out the door to an estate sale that had a bunch of yard equipment Kraig needs...except that by the time we got there everything from our arm-long list was gone except a seed spreader. At least that was there. And a fan we needed. Sigh.

After that it was off to a local park where a bunch of moms and kids from the homeschool community here get together each Wednesday afternoon. It's been good for us to get there and start to get to know people, though it means an effort of extraverting in a group that primarily consists of introverts, including me. 

Usually after the park we hit Aldi's because it's in the same part of town and their milk and eggs are ridiculously inexpensive (among other things), but today we only had time to go to Target to look for a toothbrush holder of the kids' bathroom. We had a gift card and I've been putting the kids off going for way too long.

We rushed home after that in time to get the kids fed before the girls had a meeting for a group at the church we've been attending. The group meets once a month and tonight was the night. Kraig texted meanwhile to ask that we pick him up late, so after Jon and I dropped off the girls we did the Aldi's run, got Kraig, then picked up the girls and finally got home. I am certainly getting to know the routes around Longview well.

Let's see.... It's now 9:30 and I think this is the first time I've really sat today. I admit today was busier than most, but even when we're not running around there are plenty of house projects to be done. As crazy as all this is, I realized this is one reason why this move has been less fraught with emotional trauma than our move to Guadalajara: I haven't had much time to think about it....

Still Finding Home

And here we are and it's October 31. I've actually managed to write a post a day, and I certainly haven't exhausted topics that fit with my theme of Finding Home in Guadalajara. As I said a couple days ago, I do hope to continue posting regularly, but I sincerely doubt it will be every day. There is overkill after all...or maybe it's too much of a good thing :-) . See, I've been taking so much time writing that I haven't stopped to figure out little details like placing emoticons in my post.

We're still discovering our new home here, and it will be an ongoing process. I do feel, though, that these posts this month have helped me look more closely at things and I needed to do that. Writing always helps me see things more clearly. We've been learning how to navigate, physically and culturally. We've maintained routines and started new ones. We've explored new places and deepened new friendships. We've cried, and stressed, and learned, and hopefully we have grown. Sounds like normal living to me and like every home I've lived in.

The Plan
(Complete with Mom's blood, sweat and
tears. Oh wait, that's a stamp smudge.)

As we step into November, our family has a new project for the month--at least till Thanksgiving, but maybe all month. It's been hard to be thankful as certain stresses continue (shipment delays! Endless work for Kraig!), and it's been easy to complain. Days get busy, too, and when responsibilities aren't taken care of it adds to the stress. So we're creating some charts that hopefully will help us tackle these in a positive way.

First of all, we have our Give Thanks chart. Ev traced my writing and drew the owl; Clare drew the tree. The goal will be to take a sticky note and write one thing a day that we're thankful for throughout November and stick it onto the tree as "leaves" (our tree will be a Michigan Fall tree in reverse).

Secondly, we'll have a chart with Philippians 2:14-16 written out on it.

Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life--in order that I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not labor for nothing.

We still need to write out the verse, but Jon has already started decorating it with suns. The main goal with this one is to have it memorized by Thanksgiving (and Kraig and I have to memorize it along with the kids). The secondary goal is that this truth will start influencing our attitude.

Finally, we just have a plain old responsibilities check-off chart, but with a verse reminder about the relationship between kids and their parents. We did something like this a couple years ago when the kids were having a horrible time getting ready in time in the morning and for bed at night. It had a monetary incentive, which we're considering again, but it worked so well that after a year we didn't need the chart any more. Times being what they are, though, we need it again....

We'll see how it goes. I'm sure I'll be able to give an update down the road.

 Until then, ¡hasta luego! See you later!

Making Tortillas

About a month after we came here, I wanted to make something for dinner that used tortillas. I realized I hadn't bought any at the store so I decided to take the plunge and see if I could make them. Pinterest to the rescue! My results were tasty, though warped. I used a glass as my rolling pin, and my shapes were not perfect circles. The kids weren't so sure about them; they were used to the ones I always bought back in Michigan--the standard packaged kind. We could get them here, too, and did, because that was the only way I could find flour tortillas. Guadalajara is known for its corn tortillas, and if you go to any shop you'll find bags of fresh ones, not to mention shops that are devoted to making them. We don't mind the corn ones, but we're still partial to the wheat. While the kids were leery of these homemade ones, Kraig delved in with gusto and declared they were the best ones he'd had and we should always make them that way. I had cooked myself into a corner.

There was still the problem of the rolling and shaping. But a few weeks ago a local acquaintance mentioned that I could buy a tortilla press at most of the local groceries. With one of these, I could throw my disc of dough down, squeeze the lever, and have lovely round tortillas, all set to toss on the griddle. I found one, and have used it a couple times now, and it makes life much easier. The kids love to help out with the dough, which is one of those frustrating processes that I allow because I know it will help them down the road. But today I wanted to make them without interruption, and I needed to pay attention to the process for a writing assignment, so I worked on them while the kids were at school.

I have to admit, when one has the time, it's worth making tortillas. Mine aren't perfect by any stretch, and I don't know if this is my own ignorance or the fault of the recipe. For one thing, mine don't stay as flexible as I'd like them. If they have a touch of moisture, they're okay. I'm wondering if they need more oil. Despite the flaws, though, the process is therapeutic.

First I mix the flour, salt, and baking powder. Today I experimented by using one cup of whole wheat flour with two cups white. We'll see if that works. After this, I add oil and warm water and mix it up. I've made this as a double-batch as well, but that takes forever, so I've stuck with the single batch. It's more than enough for a meal. Once the mixture is a doughy ball, I start to separate it till I have sixteen balls approximately the same size. I scatter flour over the granite countertop, and lay out the balls, pressing them down with the palm of my hand so they become thick disks. The whole wheat added flecks of darker brown to tan. I lay a kitchen towel over these discs and let them sit for about fifteen minutes. Meanwhile the griddle heats up.

The press eases the process of flattening the disks, and I can have two prepared and on the griddle within half a minute. The griddle isn't greased, but the tortillas land on it with a hiss and sizzle and immediately start to bulge here and there as if the heat were blowing hills into them. The raw dough smell transforms into the aroma of roasted wheat and within a moment I need to flip them or the scent sharpens to burned toast. On the cooked underside, the cinnamon-colored flecks are interspersed with coffee-colored blotches. Soon it's time to flip them off the griddle and into a container which I can quickly seal, and so keep them soft for eating. 

There is something beautiful in the texture of the dough. I love the separation process as I ball the dough and weigh each section in my hands, compare and contrast, estimate. A soft thump as each lands on the counter and the give of raw dough under my palm as I press it down. I love the smooth white flour I pinch and scatter so the dough won't stick, and the clank and squeeze of the press as I shove the lever down as far as it will go. The sizzle on the griddle and the steady heady scent of baking create magic. This is a task worth doing.

Exercise Routine

Before we came down to Guadalajara, we had a whirlwind of final check-ups with various doctors. I dreaded my doctor asking the inevitable question, "So, how often do you exercise?" Actually, though, I don't think she asked me that question back in June. Instead she looked at the question and said, "You know, don't worry about this one right now. Once you get to Guadalajara and get settled, then you can figure out an exercise routine." I'd never heard such freeing words. Of course, an "exercise routine" has never been an established phrase for me. My sister Jessie loves to exercise; for her it is stress relief. My idea of stress relief is time to sit down with a good book; exercise has always been a necessary evil unless somehow it is part of my daily life.

So I was looking forward to living on an upper floor of an apartment building and what that would require in terms of stairs. But when we arrived here, we found that we'd been put in the first apartment on the first level. Also, we had use of a car, so we didn't need to walk many places. Kraig got the most exercise because he trotted across to the campus every day. I felt that my plan for exertion had been thwarted.

But one month after arriving, extenuating circumstances necessitated that we move to the third floor and my desire was fulfilled. Now I get to climb two flights of stairs each day, sometimes multiple times. On laundry days, it's down three flights of stairs to get to the laundry room in the basement. And on Wednesdays when I usually do my big shopping trip for the week, I can add even more trips up and down, with weights! (Big shopping days are the only days I regret our move to the third floor....)

For the past couple months we've had our Spanish class on Tuesdays and Fridays, so on those mornings I walk across to

the campus with Kraig. It's a fair distance, plus the classroom is on the third floor (seems to be our favorite floor), so there's more leg-work. After class, I have to leave by the visitor entrance rather than the one Kraig can get us through with his ID, the one that's directly across from out apartments. This means I have a longer walk back to the apartment than to class.

Now, in the past week I've added a new part to my exercise regime: daily walks across the entire camps and up two flights of stairs to get to the purchasing department to check on the status of our shipment. I sometimes have a kid or two in tow for this, so that's bonus points. I can't walk as fast, but my arms get a better workout as they're yanked here and there by kids' explorations. The nice thing about these walks is that the campus really is lovely, and often we're shaded by large trees. It almost makes up for the weariness and repetitiveness of the purpose.

So, all in all, I think I've set up a pretty good exercise routine. It would be nice to know if I've actually lost some weight or trimmed up a bit--I have no idea. I'll just pretend it's working. Not only that, we're running around at about 5,000 feet above sea level, so my lungs have gotten a better workout, too. Just wait, Michigan friends. When I come at Christmas, I will run around you in circles.

Yep, so all around I'm happy with my new exercise plan.

Do you think it counts?

Lazy Saturday

There's something delightful about Saturdays where you don't have anywhere you have to go, or anything in particular you have to do. I love Saturdays like this. I admit, our family probably has more of these than a lot of people. We're homebodies, and after a busy week there is nothing we like better than hanging out at home.

We let the girls put their beds together on Friday nights, so their morning starts there. All three kids wake up early--makes sense since they're up by 6:30 for school all week. Thankfully they're old enough now that they keep themselves fairly well entertained for an extra hour so Kraig and I can "sleep in." We try, anyway.

Breakfast is leisurely. This morning it was pancakes. The girls have gotten old enough that sometimes they'll take these on, but this morning I was in charge. I love making pancakes because it takes a while for the golden disks to pile up, and I can read a book while I monitor them. The kids got to wash dishes after breakfast and with a little persuasion even did them willingly.

The kids have an assortment of things they like to do throughout the day. There are Barbies and LEGO, play dough and coloring. Early mornings we let them take over the iPad and they've discovered old Mickey Mouse cartoons...and the newer Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Today I introduced them to a contest for my author friend S. D. Smith's new book, The Green Ember. They spent a couple hours drawing various renditions of rabbits with swords (or just swords in Jon's case).

Some Saturdays we get to Skype with friends back in Michigan, and today the kids spent a long time catching up with best buds Kent, Sally and Alice. Once they were done, their mom Laura and I got to chat for a bit. I promised I wouldn't post the picture I took of us :) .

Kraig's been going full-throttle this week and needed a break, so he vegged with a computer game and later we all watched some TV--in Spanish! So learning was involved. A-hem! Yes. Right. I hung out on my computer, too. I wasted a good bit of time, but I did start on the intro material for an online writing course I'm taking that starts Monday, Writing Close to the Earth. Clare dug into her book for a while, and later all three kids were playing that they were at "work" which involved a good bit of drawing. They don't always play idyllically, but I will say the squabbles don't last long. Today was a great day.

We just got the kids down and I had figured I'd type this up, then relax for the rest of the evening. After all, why spoil a good thing?

Too bad I remembered at 7:30 that I'm supposed to lead our Sunday school class tomorrow....

Intersection

If you drive east on the road from our apartment you'll soon hit a busy intersection. Four to five rows of traffic cross over another four to five rows with left turns here, and right turns there, and a melee of what is usually orderly chaos. During rush hour, a traffic cop stands at one corner and monitors the lights in an attempt to keep traffic flowing smoothly. Recently a nearby primary road was closed for construction, so that's added to the heavy traffic here. And a fancy new technological plaza on the southwest corner is in the final stages of construction which has added to the congestion all summer.

In the midst of the cars, bikes and motorcycles wend vendors and beggars of all stripes. During the early morning hours a man in a red jumpsuit limps along the center strip of the south side hawking the daily news. He's followed most afternoons by a worn, quiet woman who always wears a solid-colored long-sleeve top and a full-length skirt, her rusty hair caught up in a ponytail that's stuffed through the back of a baseball cap. In one arm she carries a big clear bag full of small sacks of sunflower seeds, candies, and Japones (peanuts in a crunchy salty-sweet carb shell). In her other hand she holds a green hand-marked sign, "Semillas, $5" (seeds, five pesos). Sometimes the vendors sell cotton candy, sometimes model kits of the Eiffel Tower. Before Independence Day on September 16 there were a slew of miniature Mexican flags and other green, white and red paraphernalia. 

Some vendors provide a service. You see a lot of folks with a squirt bottle in hand in which is soapy water. With a quick eye they catch you unaware and squirt it over your windshield, then take a little squeegee and deftly wipe the suds and dirt away--for a few pesos, of course. Others might want to give you a swift car-dusting with a soft pad. Some simply hand you a flyer advertising new businesses or housing developments.

And then there are those who have nothing to offer, but would like something from you. The beggars tend to walk quietly, stepping up to your window with a polite bow, hands pressed together before them. They have little but a rolled rug at their sides, held in place with a strap over one shoulder. The other day a young boy in a white buttoned shirt trotted down the line of cars his forefinger held up and a call coming from him that I couldn't hear. To the side of the road on a bench sat two haggard women and a younger girl. I assume he was with them. As the light turned and our cars moved forward I glanced back, hoping to see the boy had jumped back up on the curb. The adults who navigate the cars are betters skilled at judging the lights. They know not to trust the drivers to watch out for them.

Hanging from a telephone pole on the southwest corner is a white bike, its front wheel missing. Over it is attached a forlorn wooden sign with "Cuidado" written on it and a drawing of a bike. I learned the meaning of "cuidado" very soon after coming: "Have care; be careful." It's a sober sign, and yet more often then not, one of the vendors has slung his bag over the place where the missing wheel was once attached. It has become a convenient holding rack. 

Life and death collide at the intersection.

Bedtime Routine

One of the most valuable lessons I learned growing up is that a bedtime routine is vital to the overall contentment of kids, and that when you travel it's important to keep that routine as closely as possible. In addition to the contentment factor, it helps make any new place home. So to say the least, we've kept to our routine as closely as possible here in Guadalajara.

Jon, do you know the verse yet?

For us, the routine evolved about the time our eldest daughter Keren was five. She'd received The Jesus Storybook Bible for her birthday, and I started reading it to her and Clare (who was two, so maybe didn't get much out of it!) just before bedtime. A few nights after we had started, I had to do something else at bedtime, so Kraig took over. From that point on, he was the main bedtime reader, and I think our lives have been richer as a result. It has become a whole-family event.

We've continued the pattern of some sort of devotional book, but as the kids got older we added in chapter books so we could introduce them to old favorites of ours. Our first series was Little House on the Prairie followed by The Chronicles of Narnia. Since then we've explored everything from The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett to Three Go Searching by Patricia St. John. Last spring we enjoyed Jonathan Rogers' The Wilderking Trilogy and before coming to Guadalajara we started into The Chronicles of Narnia again since Ev and Jon were old enough to enjoy those. Devotionals have ranged from our staple Jesus Storybook, to Ruth Bell Graham's Stepping Into the Bible and a couple others.

Ev realizes Peter, Lucy, Edmund & Susan
are in The Horse and His Boy.

After stories are read, the kids hop into bed, Kraig prays with them, and one of them chooses music. We have a calendar with the order of which kid gets prayed with first and who picks music. This is serious business, and great wailing and gnashing of teeth can result in not holding to this pattern. Then there are multiple hugs, at which point I'm called in, too. Final questions are asked. One or more of the kids emerge from their room with a tale of woe or a question: "My mosquito bite itches!" "I need a drink!" "Why did the so-and-so do such-and-such in the story?". But thankfully they're all usually out cold within half-an-hour of lights-out.

Cars! (And books)

I'd love to say my children sit and listen angelically to the devotional reading and story time. They do love the stories, this is true. But they are squirrelly human beings, so some nights go more smoothly than others. Kraig has a hard, fast rule that they need to sit and listen to the devotional reading, but things loosen up a bit for the chapter book and the kids sometimes color or play with cars or LEGO during that. This has been particularly helpful with Jon (can we say "boy"?). Some nights they are threatened with early endings when they get too wound up, and that typically results in cries of "No! We'll listen!" I usually want to add my voice, because I want to hear the stories. Thankfully, it's a rare occurrence for the routine to be disrupted, probably because Kraig wants to hear the stories himself, and none of us want the tears of anguish that result from interruption of the routine.

Each night is a gift. It is one more stroke on the canvas that is our family, and one more paint dob that makes each house we live in a home.

Distracting evening views....