Getting Therapized

Week two has come and gone! This post goes from light to heavy in a few short paragraphs. That’s how I do.

The girls started school on Monday at a lovely bilingual school that is literally behind our apartment. The teachers and administration have been so kind to us. Our girls had a rough start, crying hysterically some days. But someone was always there to take their hand and calm them down. Olive informed me that she likes going with Miss Pam because she gets band-aids or candy. Clementine’s teacher commented on how well Clementine speaks and how she talks much more than Mexican children typically do at this age. This could be similar to saying one’s child is “lively” (translation: hyper) or “curious” (translation: disobedient). I’m picturing Clementine walking around just narrating the whole day and throwing in things like, “Miss Ruth. This is a choking hazard” in her little squeaky, punctuated voice. Miss Ruth did say that she is excited to learn more English from Clementine. :)

On Wednesday we attended our second meeting with the core team of Vereda (the church). BTW, I’m just calling it The Church because no matter how many times I practice saying Vereda, no one understands. Anyway, we prayed at the end and someone was praying for our girls, that they would transition well, etc. I was of course crying because it’s been quite the emotional week, but I was also thinking “I really need to talk to Karen afterwards about coming over soon.” (Karen is here volunteering with The Well for a few months. She is an Art Therapist, which puts me in a unique position—I love therapy but I loathe art. Oh the drama.) Immediately after the prayer Karen looked at me and said “Can I come over today?” Seriously amazing. It was just what I needed. During our informal session at our dining room table, our first “project” was to draw a bridge. No problem. Two lines with some water underneath and BAM!

Masterpiece. (Karen had LOTS of questions about this. I’m not sure why…). On the opposite side of the table, this is what Alan was creating. 

It’s okay. We talked about our bridges for a while and got therapized (this is not necessarily a clinical word, but it’s what happens). Our next task was to draw a door and then draw what is behind the door. Alan and I drew the same door (our old door at 444 N. Water St.) but I left mine blank inside and Alan did not. Through many tears we talked about how moving here has been similar to how life was after Olive was born. Let me explain.

I never once thought I’d struggle with being a mom. I babysat all the time, I’m decently intelligent, and I have a teaching degree. All of that says that I’d make the perfect mom! When Olive was born, my world was rocked for several weeks. And when I’m not sleeping, several weeks seemed like an eternity. I didn’t “fall in love” with her right away, I didn’t look into her eyes in the middle of the night during the third feeding in 6 hours and think of how lucky I was. Many people would say things like “Isn’t this the best stage?” “How sweet that this baby is so dependent on you” and “I bet you’re loving being a mom!” The answer was no, you can’t be serious, and no, respectively. I tried confiding in someone once but they looked at me with a really confused look and that’s when Shame crept in.

It was the first time in my life I ever felt paralyzed by fear. I would sit on the couch all day, not eat, cry because I loved her so much, then cry because I wasn’t sure if I loved her enough. I was so afraid to mess up—mess HER up—that I just couldn’t move. I was longing for someone to understand.

One day, I got an email from a friend of a friend who I had met once or twice. I was sitting in the parking lot of Panera reading her email with tears streaming down my face. How did she know that this was exactly what I needed? Her email said lots of things, but the gist was, “Hey, you could be Superwoman and be doing fine with Olive. But in case you’re not Superwoman, I want you to know that you’re not alone and you’re okay.” This was the beginning of becoming un-paralyzed. That day, when I felt so alone, so much shame, and was wondering where God was, I found out He was right there. In the form of a not-yet-friend, someone who was bold enough to put herself out there, with the possibility of me rejecting her help, He was there. I am so thankful she was brave because now she is one of my dearest friends and truly was an answer to prayer.

Fast forward to now. This new change, new life, new routine has left me feeling a bit paralyzed. So afraid of messing up, I’ve been still. I recognized it this time, though, and knew that it felt familiar. I knew that the longer I sat still (mentally and physically) the worse it would get. So I’ve forced myself to move, which has been good. But, even still, I was longing for someone to understand, and wondering where God was. And in the form of a just-met friend, someone who followed the inclination inside to invite herself over so we could chat, with the possibility of being rejected, He was right here all along. Grateful is an understatement.

The truth is, He is always right here—right there, with you—it’s just a matter of recognizing it. His ways are mysterious, His love is unending, and His grace is overwhelming. He is there. He is here. He has not left you or me. Ever. And sometimes, you are that answer to prayer that reminds someone that God is here.

- M

Bienvenidos a Mexico!

After almost 18 months of planning and preparing, we are here! Alan has been here for just about two weeks; the girls and I have been here for one. We flew down last Friday, and in all, traveled about 14 hours by the time we got to our new home. Olive and Clementine each only slept for 5 minutes that entire time—seriously. They did so well traveling to the airport, on the plane, during our layover, in the immigration line, waiting for baggage, in the customs line, and on the hour drive home.

The girls shared a room for the first few days because we had some extra people staying with us, and bedtime was a nightmare! Every night it took at least an hour for them to finally stay in the room and go to sleep; some nights we had thunderstorms, which kept them awake even longer. Now, they are each in their own room and bedtime is just like it used to be—peaceful.

Clementine keeps asking to “go home” and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mean our new one. Olive prays that we’ll have a good flight home—she might think we’re on vacation. Mostly, though, they are adjusting really well. They will start school on Monday, which will provide them with a routine and some normalcy. Olive has been asking everyday since we’ve gotten here if it’s time for her to go to school yet. She has been super excited…until she found out about the uniforms. For anyone that knows her, you know not to mess with her fashion sense. Her uniform is a white polo, jeans, and black (close-toed) shoes. Could it be any more opposite of what she loves to wear?! Flip flops, tiny shorts, and tank tops. This may be the most severe culture shock she’ll experience!

Alan found an apartment back in August when he was here with the young adult team, and it is perfect! It’s on a quiet street, it is relatively spacious, and it’s near one of the best taco places around :) We’ve spent most of our week hanging out in our apartment, waiting for things to be delivered or for people to come to repair things. Today should mark the last day of all the waiting—the Internet has been hooked up!

Though many things are still the same, life can be really different at times. There’s the language thing, for starters. We know enough Spanish to communicate, but not enough to sound intelligent. I’ve had several encounters where I understand what is being said, but I just can’t form the words to respond. Super frustrating. However, everyday I learn something new and that’s progress I suppose.

Another difference is feeling accomplished. With the daily schedule, the traffic, and the long (at least 2 hours) lunches, we were told to feel good if we get one thing done each day. THAT has been tough. Normally our calendar had multiple things on one day—appointments, meetings, dinners, small group, etc. So far, our day will have one thing—Washer/Dryer delivered between 12 and 8pm, for example.

Food shopping has also proved to be challenging. We’ve eaten so.many. quesadillas because that is one thing I know for sure that I can make! It takes more time and more travelling to several stores/markets to find foods that I know how to cook. And, our stove didn’t work for the first few days, so whatever could be made in a toaster oven was our meal.

It’s been strange, too, relying on Alan to take us places, since I have not braved driving yet. If I need something, I can’t just hop in the car and get it. Well, I guess I could, but I haven’t gotten there yet. Babysteps. Alan has done SO well driving. I’m completely confident in his abilities to get us to and fro.

What’s ahead, you ask? We will be joining the leadership team of Vereda right away and I’m sure in a week or two Alan will be helping with the music for the weekend service. Our language classes begin in two weeks or so and will take up our mornings. Since we’ve committed to being here at least 2 years, we feel that we can and should take our time in transitioning. We don’t want to overfill our plates, survive on the little language skills we have, or neglect our girls.

If you’re praying for us—thank you. It means so much to us! If you think of it, please pray for the transition to continue to go smoothly, especially for the girls at school.

- M