Stop the presses! We have some good news!!

My momma and her sisters

Well, I had another post ready to go, but that one will have to wait, because I have some good news that shouldn't have to wait for anything...

Today we found out that my mom's younger sister is a 10 out of 10 match for her for a bone marrow transplant!

This has the potential to drastically change the course of things for her as her prognosis is not very promising without it.

It's looking like February is when things will take place and she will likely be hospitalized, on protective isolation for 4-8 weeks after that. During that process, the health care team will protect her while they wipe out her faulty immune system and replace it with her sister's immune system which will hopefully start attacking her cancer cells.
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I remember watching these three sisters holding each other as they cheered their mom into eternity. Ever since that time, I have seen them cling to each other and watched as the bonds between them strengthened into some of the strongest ties I have ever seen.

I have appreciated how they each stepped up and offered a part of themself to save my mom's life. They know it won't be an easy process, but for them, there is no question that it is the right thing to do.

I know they will be supporting my mom and each other through the process.

And I think that's pretty awesome.

(Many) Conversations with JJ

JJ has become quite the talker. And he's a smart little guy. He constantly finds questions that stump me, like "What does 'why' mean?" and "What does 'either' mean?" and "Why we don't need fireman when bouncy ball gets stuck?" and "Where was God before he made the world?"

If you've spent any time with a two-year-old, you know that any answer given is just followed up by another question, until we finally insert a big word and he gets distracted. For example,

Daddy: You need to eat your breakfast.

JJ: Why me need to eat?

Daddy: So you can grow up to be a big boy.

JJ: ME ALREADY IS BIG BOY! How me grow?

Daddy: Well, your cells divide and make more cells. That's called 'mitosis'.

JJ: Hey! Me eat 'my toastis' for breakfast.

Daddy: Exactly.

This little monkey is all about being a big boy. He constantly reminds me, "Me BIG boy". He won't ever let me slip and say anything about him being little.

Sunday night we spontaneously decided to go out for dinner and the waitress asked, "Do you want a highchair for your baby?" As JJ climbed into the chair we chose for him, he said, "That was RUDE! Me not baby, me BIG boy!" I was surprised that she understood him, since I've been kind of counting on the fact that not everyone can understand him, as this kid is either loud or asleep, but no, she heard him clearly and apologized appropriately ;)

JJ is such a charmer too. Whereas KK will just not do something that she's not allowed to do, he'll do it, right in front of me, while smiling charmingly at me. Sometimes it works. Hey, I never claimed to be perfect! Could you resist this face?

A while back, I wrote a post about how I was teaching KK about safety. You can find it here. Well, I've been working on the same stuff with JJ, and last week, I thought I'd check in with him to see how much he was remembering.

Mommy: JJ, what would you do if someone asked you to come to their car to see their kitty? Would you go with them?

JJ: NO!

Mommy: Good. Now what if someone picked you up and tried to take you away? What would you do?

JJ: Me would run away home and get a knife and come back and say, "You don't do that!"

(are we seeing the difference between my delicate little girl and my tough little guy here?)

Mommy: Ok, we can work on that. What if a really nice lady said she had puppies in her car and she wanted to show them to you and that your mommy said it was ok? What would you do?

JJ: I not go, but me say, "If you have candy, me come..."

Obviously, I need to keep a close eye on this one. And possibly feed him more candy.

What the heck happened in Baltimore?

You might remember, about a year ago, I mentioned we were thinking about moving to Baltimore. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not that important. Go read about it here ;)

Over the past year, we went back and forth about the whole idea, finally settling on being 95% sure we were definitely NOT going to Baltimore. But everyone that we look to for wisdom said we should just go for the interview, just to get rid of that last 5% of doubt and that we'd know for sure either way once we went there. We were more than ready to close off that last 5% and settle into a comfortable life.

Approaching the trip, I was mostly excited. We were definitely NOT moving there (95% sure) and we were getting a whole 4 days without the weenuts! Peanut-lover was stressed - he had a lot to do on the trip. But I was ready for fun.

Then we got there.

We had decided to go on the trip with open hearts, willing to really assess whether Baltimore could be our home. Though pretty certain we were NOT going there, we wanted to be sure we had explored the option as completely as possible.

So when we landed and drove through the city in the middle of the night, it all really hit me. I looked around at all the buildings and recognized NOTHING. Not a bank name, grocery store, gas station... nothing was the same.

The first few days there, I was shocked to face so much emotion. I spent hours in my bible, seeking solace and wisdom... finding solace and wisdom. Over and over I found verses that related to what I was going through. I wish I had been journaling at the time because I can't remember all the details now.

One thing I do remember was reading in Leviticus about how the Tabernacle was to be built. It struck me that the building, maintaining and transporting of the Tabernacle was a ton of work. When Peanut-lover came in, I went to remark to him about this and it hit me that God's work is a lot of work. And that yes, Balimore would be a lot of work, but that didn't mean it was something to avoid.

For the first two days there, we explored the city and checked out neighborhoods. The food was delicious, the homes were so interesting, the university was awe-inspiring, the weather was hot and humid. I cried a lot.

On the third day there, Peanut-lover had his interview and spent the day with the lab at Johns Hopkins. Afterwards, he picked me up and took me to join the lab for dinner. Between the time we left the hotel and arrived at the restaurant, something in me had changed. I remember waiting for everyone else to arrive and saying to Peanut-lover, "Let's just do it. Let's just jump in with both feet." That night was our last night in the city and we stayed up so late looking at Baltimore with new eyes, like it might be our new home.



We prayerfully considered it over the next week or so. On the night we finalized our decision, the two of us went out to our favourite beach to talk, read our bible and pray. It felt like God was speaking to us over and over through what we were reading in the bible. All kinds of stuff about how we need to use the gifts that we have. So we decided to go.

One last issue remained and that was my mom's health. I couldn't imagine leaving her when she was unwell. At that time, she had made a remarkable recovery from the set-backs in the Spring and early Summer. I felt like it was a step of faith in terms of me trusting God with her life, for me to follow His leading to Baltimore.

But in the fall, things changed. My mom is quite ill right now, struggling through intense chemo and approaching a bone-marrow transplant which will be a very difficult time for her.

I can't understand why God would ask me to leave during her hardest days.

I just can't. It doesn't make any sense.

But my God is so faithful. He meets me right where I am. I read in Joshua, just a few days ago, about how the Israelites had to cross the Jordan River to get into Canaan (the Promised Land). God didn't have them cross when it was easy, He had them cross in Spring, when the river was overflowing its banks. It was then that they needed a miracle and He gave them a miracle. He made the river stop so that they could cross on dry land. He had them cross when it was hardest so that he could demonstrate his power.

I feel that he is asking me to cross when it is hardest, and I trust that I will see him demonstrate his power.

And so... we are packing up the nutty household and moving to Baltimore... and clinging to God every step of the way.

I don't value busyness, so why am I so BUSY?!?!

Last night I looked at my blog and noticed it was more than a little dusty. Which is sad, because I sure could have used some journalling over the last few months.

Let me quickly catch you up.

Since the beginning of August, we have:
1. Decided to move to a different country
2. Renovated our home
3. Sold our home
4. Freaked out numerous times about #1-3
5. Started our firstborn in school
6. Supported my mom through intense chemo and difficult health decisions

And there's more...

During this same time, Peanut-lover has also finished and defended his doctoral dissertion, published his research in a major scientific journal, and started lecturing first year biology students.

We are not the type that equate busyness with success. Ok, yes we CAN be, but we actively fight the urge to equate busyness with success. No matter how hard we try not to be busy, it always finds us.

And that's why I haven't been blogging.

I've got some writing to do, don't I?

Another example of how parenting teaches me about God

Parenting teaches me so much about God as father. I was reminded about how God deals with his children once again this week while putting away laundry.

I called JJ to come hang up his shirts and told him that if he came right away, I would help him do it. (Hanging shirts is a new skill that JJ and I are working really hard on. Having a four-year-old that hangs up all her clothes helps keep me motivated that eventually we will be successful!)

JJ decided not to come right away, preferring to play with his lego instead.

When I told him that he'd have to hang up his shirts by himself, he came into his room and started crying that it was too hard. He sat there for a few minutes, trying to figure it out, but very frustrated, tears streaming down his cheeks. Suffering... from a two-year-old's perspective.

I told him that I just wanted him to try and though I kept feeling the urge to bail him out and help him through it, I had a hope that he'd get it himself, so I let him suffer through the frustration...

...until suddenly... he'd done it!

He ran out to daddy to show him what he'd done and then did the other shirt himself.
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It's no secret that my family has been going through our share of suffering, relating to my mom's health, over the past nearly three months.

In short synopsis, mom had an urgent achilles tendon repair done, which reopened 5 weeks later. To repair that, she had to have a free-flap transfer to cover the open wound. In her case, the free-flap transfer meant they took a chunk of tissue from her upper arm and reattached it to her ankle. That was followed by a readmission for severe dehydration and pain, and just recently, another readmission for a severe lung infection. All this in the context of the fact that she has advanced leukemia.

Her ability to fight infection is very compromised, so just when she starts to feel a little better and like she might be able to start re-learning how to walk on her leg, she gets another infection. It is very defeating.

It's been a long three months, with lots of crisis moments, prioritizing, reprioritizing, crying together, talking about the future, considering our fears... you name it. Suffering... from this family's perspective.

Now, suffering doesn't necessarily come from God. In JJ's case, his suffering was related to his choice to continue playing instead of coming when I asked him to come. Suffering isn't necessarily always related to our choices though. There is a lot of suffering that we just aren't going to be able to understand on this side of eternity. Mom's suffering is one of those cases.

Lots of us question why God allows suffering. I can't explain it all. But I do know that God uses every hardship in our lives to shape us and teach us. And, just like I knew better than to bail JJ out of his momentary suffering, God knows better than to bail us out of ours.

The thing is, God is a perfect parent. Sometimes, I get irritated waiting for my kids to attain a skill, or I fail and bail them out of doing something hard, but God doesn't parent like that.

I love one of the conversations in the book, "The Shack". The main character is talking about failure, and asking if God gets frustrated with us when we fail. And God responds that, since he is omniscient, he knows that it's going to take us 48 times before we get it right. So after the first failure, He's so excited because He knows it's only 47 more times before we succeed!

God doesn't let any suffering or hardship go to waste. (Although, some of it is definitely going to MY waist, if you know what I mean!) He lets us work through the suffering, though he remains with us and coaches us through it, so that we will come out the end of it having learned something...

... like how to balance life's demands when mom is sick...

... and like how to hang our shirts up on a hanger.

Conversations with JJ: talk, talk, talk!

JJ's become quite the talker suddenly. He cracks me up all the time. He's taken to calling everyone "baby", but since he oozes cool, he pronounces it "baybay".

Mommy: JJ, why did you just hit KK?

JJ: 'Cause me want to, baby!

If you're thinking it must be hard to correct him when he's so darn cute, you'd be right. Fortunately, I'm quite aware that parenting is not supposed to be easy!

The other night, he snuck out of bed and saw me working on Daddy's computer.

JJ: *big charming smile* Why you work Daddy's 'puter mommy?

Mommy: I'm just helping daddy with some work.

JJ: Why you not daddy yet, mommy?

Mommy: Not a daddy yet? JJ, a daddy is not the next level after a mommy...

JJ: Mommy, s'ok. You be big like daddy sometime.

Another night, I was lying in bed and JJ kept asking me the same question over and over:

JJ: Mommy why you wearing pants?

Mommy: I always wear pants.

After the fourth or fifth time, I decided to ask him silly questions to see if I could get him to change the subject.

Mommy: JJ, why are you wearing JJ?

JJ: *big sigh* I no know, mommy. People like look at me, I guess.

Comfort items

Both my kids have their comfort items. That special thing they need to calm them when they are sleepy or upset.

JJ's is his blankie. It's a knitted blanket that my Grandma actually made for KK, and somehow JJ got really attached to. Now we don't go anywhere without it. He can be instantly calmed just on the sight of his blankie. You can see the change in him the moment he recognizes it. It's almost like the blankie is a person the way he interacts with it (him? her?).

When I realized he was attached to this blankie, I asked my Grandma to make up a smaller version of it for us to carry around with us. It gets a little challenging to bring a crib-sized blankie everywhere we go. But he instantly rejected the "mini-blankie" so his large blankie gets dragged everywhere.

Washing his blankie is 45 minutes of intense stress for the little guy and requires mommy to be extra creative with play until we hear the magic sound of the dryer buzzer.

KK's comfort item, however, is always with me. I can't forget it anywhere. It gets cleaned once-a-day whether I plan it or not. She can find it in her sleep, although she must come to our room to get it.

What is this comfort item?

My belly button, or "button tummy", of course. For nearly three years now, she has comforted herself by rubbing and poking my belly button. Before she can go to sleep at night, she must let each finger spend some time with my belly button. If she gets injured or has her feelings hurt, my belly button can fix the pain.

It's magic like that, sigh...

Of boys and men

One of the things that I love about having a son, is that he helps me understand my husband.

One of the things that I love about having a husband, is that he helps me understand my son.

JJ is two. He is learning that he is under authority. He doesn't like learning that he is under authority. When we hit a situation where he and I are in a stand-off (it happens) (did I mention he's two?), sometimes I just have to lay down the law. I have to pull out my parent card. My way or the highway.

He don't like it much.

But I've noticed something that helps a lot. And I probably wouldn't have noticed it as soon, if it weren't for having noticed it also in my husband about a year ago.

He needs privacy to accept that he has failed, or made a mistake, or needs to concede.

One of our battles as women is our need to control. It is part of our curse from the fall. It is a heart issue that only God can fix in us. One of men's battles is pride. It too is a heart issue that only God can fix in them.

Since only God can fix the pride, then I have to let go of the control, and walk away. Give him the privacy he needs to let God fix his heart.

If Peanut-lover has made a mistake (it's happened once or twice), he knows it. It doesn't help if I get in his face and remind him about it and tell him he needs to change. I've tried it. Not helpful at all. He needs privacy. That's it. Walk away.

When JJ refuses to concede, we could remain in a stand-off until one of us tires, but the issue won't get dealt with. If I lay down the law (you can have your snack once you get your jammies on) and then walk away, every single time, he concedes.

Humility is hard.

We can model humility by admitting to our kids when we have made mistakes (one thing that my dad always did, which I really respected). But ultimately, only God can change our hearts.

If I can step out, I get out of God's way, and he fixes both our hearts. That's what he's in the business of doing.

Just one of the reasons I won't be homeschooling this one

JJ is such a different learner than I am. He has no interest in practicing anything. He isn't patient enough to do something just for the sake of doing it.

Remember how he learned to walk? Never held our hands to try taking steps. Never pulled himself along furniture. Nothing. Just up and started walking one day.

It's like that with everything. Which probably explains why he's only potty-trained at bedtime and when we're standing in long line-ups.

In the fall, we did swimming lessons. JJ and I were in a class together and KK was in a class by herself, at the other end of the pool.

Towards the end of the lessons, our teacher kept saying that JJ was so much more comfortable in the water than he'd been at the beginning. Even some of the parents made a point of mentioning the difference in him.

But I'm his mommy. I know better.

He was not more comfortable in the water. He never was uncomfortable in the water. He is a water baby. No fear. None. At. All. Which is why he often looks like this, even on dry land:

It wasn't that he was more comfortable in the water. It just took him a few weeks to figure out who the teacher was, so he knew who to impress.

I'm sure there was more than one time that the lifeguard thought of throwing the life-preserver out to him and I. But that thrashing in the water? It was just me trying to get him to do the skill that the teacher had asked us to work on. Not once would he perform the skill for me, but as soon as the teacher appeared, he would execute it perfectly ONCE. Then she'd move on, and the water thrashing would begin again.

It happened again today.

For months now, he's been counting like this, "one... two... one... two.. one... two!" I've been trying to teach him to count to three by counting everything that comes in twos or threes with him. And still, one... two... one... two...

Today, when I was cooking dinner, he ran into the kitchen, threw something on the counter and ran out, telling me that he was hiding. And then he proceeded to count to four. Just like that. I didn't even know he knew four existed. We exchanged high-fives and I went back to cooking.

Back around the corner he went, and this is what I heard:

one...two...three...four...dog...five...six...seven...eight...nine...ten...

Just like that. Confidently and clearly, he counted to ten.

There was great rejoicing in the land.

So, he counted to ten, once. And now that he has mastered the skill, he has no interest in it and has gone back to counting however he wants.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I'm going to have to leave his formal education to the professionals.

Mullings in my brain

I've been thinking a lot about poverty.

Thinking about how our North American culture is so much about accumulation. Our goal as young adults is to get the great job, so we can get the new car and big house and all the nice stuff. We work hard to get those things, but soon we want more. We work hard our entire lives to set ourselves up for a sweet, indulgent retirement. We're never satisfied.

Thinking that if we want to live within our culture, we almost have to bow to the pressures to accumulate. Thinking about how we have so much more than we need and people are dying because of it.

We had the same plans as everyone else. Get through school. Buy a big house. Buy a nice car. Buy a second car. Upgrade the house. Upgrade the cars. Repeat as necessary.

But then, school lasted a lot longer than we'd expected. We learned to live with so much less than we ever thought we could. Over the past couple of years, it's really made us rethink the life plan.

And recently, God's stretched us even further. God's been doing something to my heart and at the same time, similar things to Peanut-lover's heart. We know it's God because he's changed our hearts in the same direction without us even ever talking about it. We're becoming really uncomfortable with the luxuries in our lives that we see as necessities. Uncomfortable with excess.

Frankly, it freaks me out.

I like to be comfortable. I don't like to stretch myself. I don't like challenge. I like fitting in, blending in, not being noticed. I love a new pair of shoes.

But if God is changing my heart, what is he changing it for?

That's what freaks me out.