Lanugages, languages everywhere!

I bought an answering machine from a girl on the Incirlik Yard Sale webpage for five bucks! What a deal! Only problem is, it's in German. I tried translating a few of the words on the buttons online and figured out "play" and "delete" and those kind of basics. But I can't figure out how to record a message. Some guy keeps speaking to me in German. I'm sure he is telling me what to do but I have no idea what that "to do" is.

Sigh ... so many languages. No wonder Babel couldn't get built.

Rain rain come back another today

We are coming up on our four month anniversary of our move to Turkey.

Four months, and I have seen it rain ONE time. Once.

I miss the rain. That's all I want to say. I just miss smelling and seeing and sleeping through the rain.

Okay, well, actually, I wanted to say a few more things.

Turkey is very much like northern Florida as far as climate goes. No real fall to speak of but the leaves are falling and the temperature changing.

When it comes to daylight, it is very much like Minnesota. Gets dark way early this time of year. By 5pm you are inside for the night. In the summer the days are incredibly long. I am not sure why places like Turkey and Minnesota observe daylight savings time. Doesn't make much sense to me.

There. Turkey weather in a nutshell.

Outta ice cream?

After the morning I had, I was in a need of some major intervention. A few friends came by this morning for a little playtime at my house. Wouldn't you know that most of them were having the same time of morning I was having. So we collectively decided that we needed some ice cream. We sent Stebs. The Commissary was closed due to a Muslim holiday. She went to the Shoppette only to discover that they were completely out of ice cream!

Are you kidding?! How do you run out of ice cream? Is everyone having the same day that we are having?

She ended up securing four drumsticks which definitely filled in nicely.

Outta ice cream! Inconceivable.

2am

It's 2am in South Florida right now. Midnight at the home of my buddy Kristi in New Mexico. But here, right now, it is 9am. I wish my world was awake right now instead of the other way around.

I keep thinking that I'd like to email my Mom or someone and just ask them to pray for me. I need an extra bit of "umph" today. So I thought that while it is unlikely that any of my world back home is awake, maybe someone is. Not many people here have access to my blog. Since the Base is so small I've kept it on the down-low. JB will be the doctor for most people I know here. And I don't want them to all have access to the details of his life.

The boys are in quiet a funk. Usually, only one of them is in a funk at a time. But today it is both of them. And Scrubs, while on his best behavior in fear of facing my wrath, is still under my feet. Oh and he threw up twice. Green gooey throw-up. What makes throw-up bright, slime ball green?

I'm outnumbered. I've prayed. I've begged. We have, and this is not an exaggeration, been in time-out so many times that I've lost count. I am also defaulted to putting one of them in the crib upstairs. Screaming. Fighting. Pushing. Whining. I served Isaac corn flakes as he requested. But then he didn't want corn flakes. He wanted yogurt. Someone asked for toast. But once it was popped it was no longer desired.

By the time my world wakes up I'm sure the day will be better. But right now, I feel better just getting this off my chest again.

Got to go. World War III has just broken out in the play room.

Monday Mojo

Mondays JB works out with other military personnel for a mandatory PT session. When he got back, I went for a run. I don't mind running with my jogger, but when I can avoid it, it is nicer to not have to keep my arms in one position for the duration of a run. Thank goodness my BOB has good shocks. Elijah weighs 33 pounds now and Isaac 29. They are quite a load. I notice how heavy they are when I put them in my bike trailer. Without them, going up hill isn't so hard. With them it is quite the chore.

When I got back from my run (with Scrubby of course) I laid down on the rug in our formal living room/library. Isaac and Elijah laid down on either side of me.

Isaac: "What you doing Mommy?"

Wendi: "I'm doing sit-ups."

Isaac: "I do sit ups too."

Wendi: "Okay. Put your hands behind your head and then pull your head up."

Isaac: Imitates me as best he can. Pulls his head up two or three times. "I'm doing it Mommy." While this is going on, Elijah is on the other side of me lifting his legs into the air. Just eight months apart but worlds apart in understanding some times.

Wendi: "Yes you are."

Isaac: "I'm exercising."

Wendi: "Yes you are."

Isaac: "And now I'm sweaty."

After we do sit-ups then I bench press each of the boys. I always start with Elijah because he weighs more. I do ten bench presses with one hand under his chest and one under his legs. We all count together. Then it's Isaac's turn. He doesn't make it to ten. By six or seven he wants to get down which is totally okay by me after bench pressing his tank-like little brother first.

The other funny thing Isaac said to me this morning was a mix-up of words. Instead of saying: "all over everything" he said "all ovarything."

There are so many moments each day that I reminded how fortunate I am to be jarred awake at 5:30 every morning (although this morning it was 6:05! yippee!)

Cultural Curves

Yesterday, Linda and I decided to do some shopping! Some of Shane & Linda's HHG have still not arrived! (Our's arrived in August -- just to give you some perspective.) Because they are way past due date, the moving company will now allow her to purchase a few things on the company's dime. Since it is getting cooler here, she needed a few fall-like outfits. So before lunch, we headed out to the M1 (Mbir) together.

After a quick stop at the Sunday market (Linda's first market experience since moving here), we got to the mall. While I have visited the mall in Turkey before, I had never really shopped with the Turkish people before. We'd bought a few things at the grocery store or "WalMart" but not clothing. First we had lunch at Popeyes! This was a nice taste of home. The chicken was delightful, and while I still am not sure what the sauces they gave me were or why the ketchup was so salty, it really felt nice to eat something a bit more "familiar."

Sunday is the Muslim family day. (In conrast to a Saturday in America.) I knew this but think I sort of forgot. It was also the last of the weekend before one of the biggest Muslim holiday's: Eid al-Adha (which is why Hatice is not working this week and I am having to clean my house!)

I say this because it was the crowds that taught me quite a bit about the culture. And not only did I learn a lot about Turkish culture, but I also learned a lot about American culture as well. I realized that there are many things that are socially unacceptable in American culture that are "unwritten." We may not even realize they are seen as acceptable or unacceptable in "our world." But they are. And you don't realize that until you see other people who do it totally different.

An example. Has anyone ever taught you the right and wrong way to look at clothes on the rack? I don't think my mother ever showed me these skills. But yet as I shopped around people raised differently than me, I realized that there is a way of doing things in the USA.

And this was not it.

Say there is a rack of sweaters. If I were in the U.S. and looking at the rack, it would be acceptable for someone to come and begin looking toward the back of the rack while I looked in the front. Acceptable, but many times the person will still wait until I am done with that rack before stepping in.

Out shopping yesterday, I was taken aback by the people who simply started looking at the same piece I was looking at. They would come right up next to me and share in my browsing. In fact, as I was holding up one shirt to look at it, a woman came by and began to turn it from side-to-side to get a better view for herself.

I quickly realized that what she was doing was not wrong. What I was thinking was not wrong. It was just different. I also realized that somehow I had learned a way to do things. Who taught me? Did I learn by observing? Did I do it wrong and get a stern look? I am not sure. But somehow I learned it.

And now I needed to unlearn it. Temporarily at least.

Another difference is lines. In general, lines are much more "foggy" here in Turkey than they are in our culture. When Americans make a line, we make it a fairly concrete line. The Turks just kind of wander in and out of the line and forward and backward. There is a general line but it is not concrete. I am not sure how they would react to someone actually "cutting" but I got the impression it wouldn't really bother them. It was almost expected that you wait in line with the plan to get a turn close to the spot you got in at.

In addition, if there were seven dressing room "stalls" in a women's dressing room and there was a line to use them, wouldn't it make sense to have one line and the next person goes to the next available stall? At least that's how I've always done it. The same thing is true in bathrooms. At least that's how I've always done it. But not here. I continued to observe both at cash registers, in dressing rooms, and in bathrooms, people waiting in their own line. It took Linda and I a bit to figure out how this would work. We had to pick a dressing room and "claim it." A bathroom stall and "claim it." We then had to wait for that particular person to get done. If they took a long time, that was our bad luck. Surprisingly, the Turkish women did not seem bothered that Linda was trying on multiple things. They seemed to have a lot of patience.

Another thing that is different for Americans.

In a bathroom, it is the same. I would walk into the bathroom and stand off to the side. A stall would open up. There are two other women in the bathroom. I nod my head at the door as if to ask them if they are going to go inside. They nod their head back at me to go inside. I guess the stall is mine. I was nearest it. They have claimed their own stall. I think this puts a lot of pressure on the person in the stall you are waiting for.

We finished off the day with some Turkish ice cream. It tastes like American ice cream but has the consistency of taffy. Very yummy. I have had it one or two other times. A small cultural difference here was the scoop amount. Linda asked for a cone with one scoop. One scoop was a very small scoop. We both were almost shocked when the man started to hand her the cone with the one scoop on top. Since I am the Turkish speaker between the two of us, she turned to me and asked me to request two scoops instead. Even two scoops was smaller than an American scoop but Linda stopped there.

Loved hanging out with Linda. Loved learning more about the culture. Loved practicing my Turkish. And loved eating the ice cream on the way home.

First blueberries, now fish

First it was blueberries.

Today it was fish.

There are things about maneuvering amongst another culture that are difficult. I have been attempting, with as much effort as I can muster, to eliminate one of the main difficulties: the language barrier.

For instance, today, we headed to little kids' arcade in Adana with Dan & Angelica and their two kiddos and Stebbins and William. Stebbins wanted to know if she could get tokens with a credit card. I was able to ask the teenager behind the desk if we could. In Turkish. "Evet," was the reply! Hurrah! She understand me! Yippeee! Stebbins decided she didn't need more tokens, but I didn't care. I asked a question. I got an answer.

A small miracle.

After our little outing which included lunch at the McDonalds (which Isaac has been calling "Old McDonalds") upstairs, Dan & Angelica headed back to base while Stebbins joined our crew for a trip to "Metro" (the Turkish equivalent of a Sam's Club.) While this was not the place that I had unknowingly spent $15 on frozen blueberries during one of my first weeks in Turkey, our error today definitely rivaled my past purchase.

JB wanted to buy some fish. Since I am the sort-of-Turkish-speaker in our relationship, I attempted to help him figure out what would be a good fish to grill. I asked one of the workers if anyone spoke English. I found someone who spoke a little. Between his "biraz" English and my "biraz" Turkish we were able to ascertain a fish that fit JB's requirements.

We thought that the fish was 32 TL per kilo. We got three of them. Upon checkout, JB saw on his receipt that we had spent 90 TL on the fish (roughly $60 USD). I was proud of myself. I was able to speak to the cashier in Turkish and figure out that the fish were not 32 TL per kilo but 32 TL per fish. Yay for me in figuring this out. But it meant diddly. We were still faced with the fact that the guy at the fish section of the store had spent a considerable amount of time cleaning and preparing the fish for us. We felt it would be a very unwelcome thing to reject the fish after having them cleaned and paid for.

(Side note: when the man helping me with the fish told me he would clean it and get it ready for us, he told me, in English, to come back in 14 minutes. I guess this was the only number he knew. It was quite funny. Who tells someone to come back in 14 minutes? I asked him if "on besh" was adequate which is 15 in Turkish just to make sure we were on the same page. He said that was perfect.)

Anyways, we took our $60 worth of fish and went home. I would like to say that the fish was fantastic. But it wasn't. It was decent. JB did the best he could with it. But we definitely spent $60 on only semi-decent fish. Nick helped us eat it. He ate $20 worth of fish.

There are some things about living in another culture that you just can't prevent. Misunderstandings are one of them. I am trying to learn the language. I can now count to the thousands in Turkish which is encouraging. I know most of the money-related terms. But still. I failed to properly ask whether the price was "tanesi" (each) instead of "kilosu" (per kilo) and it cost us.

Big time.

Live and learn, right?

Condo

It appears our condo is going to sell. We have a closing date of the last day of November. We didn't have it on the market and we had a renter in it and somehow everything came together. The renter was actually looking to possibly move out earlier, our real estate agent handled everything, and it appears we may be well on our way to a sale for only a fraction under our asking price.

We are very intensely looking to buy some land in Washington State and have been holding off in wait for the sale of our condo in Minnesota. For those of you who don't know, we are planning on making Washington our "forever" home when JB severs ties with the military. (I'll have to have JB write a long and detailed post about why we chose Washington at some other point in the future.) We are looking into a place of approximately 20-30 acres to have a hobby farm. If the Lord brings my dreams into fruition, we are hopeful that this home will one day include many children who need a forever family.

Much more to come in the future but for now, your prayers that this sale will go through are much appreciated.

Some talking (for the Gramas)

I'm always trying to capture on video some of the new conversations the boys are having. Here is a recent video. It's long but the Gramas will like it.

Tetris

As someone who has loved and spent many mind-numbing hours attempting to beat my family members in Tetris, I found this article quite interesting. Who would have thought that the game I was playing was actually something beneficial! New research has shown that this game can actually help trauma victims.

"'Because games like Tetris use the parts of the brain responsible for visual attention and visual memory, which also contribute to flashbacks, they may reduce flashbacks', she said."

"But verbal games, which compete with the resources in the brain that remember the contextual meaning of the trauma, may reinforce visual memories in the perceptual channel, the researchers said."

Okay so truthfully, I don't play Tetris anymore. Two babies and a dog sorta put a dart through that. But I did used to play Tetris quite a bit. It started with Tetris for regular Nintendo. You know, the one that looks like this:

This was only a one player game, but my Dad, brother, and myself used to play it all the time. We'd try to set a record for points and we'd try to set the record for lines. I believe I held both records for quite some time. I know that 212 was my line record. I really believe it's impossible to hit 220 because the computer begins running faster than you can respond. I don't remember my points total but it was ahead of my brother and Dad. That I do know.

In fact, we eventually recruited my Mom into the world of Tetris. I can remember going to play miniature golf on vacation. Included in the purchase of one game of golf was ten free video tokens each. My Dad, brother, and I were thrilled. My Mom, not so much. But my Dad "forced" her to sit in front of the Tetris game and give it a try. By the end of it, she was begging us for more coins.

We'd created an addict.

Years later, a new Tetris would emerge on Nintendo 2. We actually have this at our house. My Dad found it on Ebay. JB and I will still get in the mood to play this now and then, but again, our little boys have sorta nixed that kind of free time. When we could call our home, I would, and find that my parents were too busy to talk to me. They'd be right in the middle of a Tetris game. When I would go home to South Florida, I'd get addicted all over again. I eventually became second-best in my family to this new Tetris, shown below. Keith, Mom, and JB were left in my dust, but my Dad, not so much.

Nintendo 2's Tetris 2 offered the opportunity to play against someone or even the computer. You could handicap yourself to make it fair too. This one worked on colors instead of lines, and in my opinion was much "funner" than the original.

Not sure where this post came from. One article on yahoo just jumped me back down memory lane. Sweet times.

P.S. Happy birthday to my online friend and fellow Dalmatian lover, Teri!

Update on Keith and AD's little girl

The news continues to be good for Keith and AD's soon-to-come little girl. Got this today from AD:

More good news today. The CCAM is still the same size, but the baby has gained almost a half a pound. I am 28 weeks, 2 days and she is measuring 30 weeks 5 days thanks to the Huisman genes. They hooked me up to a stress test (adding another 45 minutes to the appt) and the baby did great, no stress. The new routine will be appointments every two weeks with a 30+ minute ultrasound and 30+ minute stress test which somehow ends up being 2.5 - 3 hours from walk-in to walk-out. They took more 4D pictures, we'll post them tomorrow. Thanks for your prayers. We serve a mighty God.

Deborah

I found this picture on Facebook. It really hit me because this is the last time I remember seeing Deborah. Halloween evening. She was dressed up like Queen Esther. Elijah is showing her how a lion "roars" and you can see how scared Deborah was of that roar!

Incirlik is a small base. Very small. I think there are a total of 3,000 people living on Base. Now remember that there is only ONE church for us to attend. If you can put yourself in that situation and then include the news that the Pastor's wife of this one church has just been diagnosed with Stage IV cancer, you may be able to understand what our tiny community is feeling. We are reeling. We are saddened. We are scared.

Deborah (pronounced Deb-or-uh) is a charasmatic and lively woman. She's blonde and fit and beautiful. She has a six year old daughter and is herself only in her 40's. She's one of these women that can make an entire room full of women feel as though they are her very best friend. She ended up in the emergency room this weekend due to stomach issues. The doctors came back from the surgery with the news that her condition was"grave."

Chaplain Crumpton spoke tonight at the prayer vigil held in Deborah's honor at the Chapel. As is often the case, God's amazing strength was obviously holding him up. He spoke with grace and charisma. He made us laugh. He made us cry. He told us to remember that while we pray for Deborah, we also need to praise for Deborah. She is already recovering from the surgery faster than the doctors thought might be possible. She is living.

She has a long road ahead of her. Nine months of intense treatment with no promise at the end of her future. But Ch. Crumpton reminded us Deborah has been promised a future. She's been promised an eternity in a healed body praising her Lord.

What they and we are even more saddened by is that the Crumptons will be leaving us in just a few weeks. Better care in the U.S. means they are going there. They were planning to extend and stay with us for an additional 2.5 years. I was thrilled with this since it would perfectly match our DEROS (departure date.) It was talking of leaving that choked him up more than anything.

Gathered in the chapel this evening were people of every denomination you can imagine. There were new Christians mixed with people who have known the Lord their entire life. We are Catholics and Charasmatics. We are Baptist and Church of Christ. It's such an amazing thing to witness. To be a part of a place where all we have is our small body of fellow believers. You picture the early church and I feel like, here at Incirlik, we get a small taste of what that would have been like. All we have in common is Christ. And that is enough.

Tonight, six individuals stood and read six scriptures. And then they prayed. One "younger" Christian introduced herself to the Lord as she began. One person said the Lord's prayer. One prayed in only the way a Gospel minister would pray. We are a wounded community. Our other Chaplain is back in the U.S. on leave. The Air Force is sending a "back-up" Chaplain in to help this community face its pain.

But we are united in one thing: we plan to play for Deborah.

I don't pretend to know everything about God. But here's what I do know. I know that He answers prayers. I know that I spent five years on my knees begging the Lord for a child. Pleading. Screaming. In agony. Just one thing. A child.

(I have two.)

I know there are women who have prayed longer and harder and more than me who don't have a child now. I don't know why. I don't understand. That's okay. I can still pray.

I remember not having a vehicle right before we got married. We prayed. We told the Lord we had no money. We had no car. But we needed transportation.

Someone gave us a car.

Miracles DO happen. They do. I don't know why they do sometimes and why they don't sometimes, but I am tired of trying to figure that out. All I know is that I am going to pray for Deborah. Our community is going to pray. We aren't going to conjecture and grieve. We are going to petition and celebrate.

Together. In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

P.S. If you are interested, here are the six scriptures that were read tonight for Deborah. I plan to pray them every day.

Psalm 103:1-5
1 Praise the LORD, my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the LORD, my soul,
and forget not all his benefits—
3 who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,
4 who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
5 who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

Psalm 107:19-20
19 Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,
and he saved them from their distress.
20 He sent out his word and healed them;
he rescued them from the grave.

Isaiah 53:5
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed.

Matthew 18:19-20
19 “Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. 20 For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”

John 14:13-14
13 And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. 14 You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.

I John 5:14-15
14 This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. 15 And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him.

Isaac speaks

Isaac to JB when he got out of the van yesterday. "Daddy you go to work."

JB: "Yep. I was at work."

Isaac: "You work at the Clinic."

JB: "That's right. Do you know what I do at the Clinic?"

Isaac: "You make people better."

A conversation with Isaac

The Four Sara/h(s)

On Monday I had five ladies over for brunch. One of them was named Tina (not pictured). The other four: Sara or Sarah. I kid you not. We have named each of our Sara/h's in order to prevent confusion. From left: Sarah, Mrs. Sarah Ashmore, Stebbins, and SaraB. It's working (sort of) well.

The six of us (and Angelica who was out of town) have formed a little co-op group. We met on Monday to discuss how the first two trial months went and to make any changes that we thought might be necessary.

On Mondays and every other Thursday (opposite of MOPs weeks) we watch each other's kids. Two women host the event. The other five have the day off. Kids can be dropped off between 9-12 if you want to utilize the service. If you don't, no problem. You just don't bring your kids. There are ten children total between the seven of us but due to some being in preschool, only 9 that might utilize the service on a given day.

The vote at brunch was to keep the co-op going. We shortened the time and switched a day but otherwise, we're continuing onward ... the Sara/h's, Tina, Angelica and me.

My furthest venture yet

Today was a big day.

Stebbins and I decided that we needed to do something today. Not just something little. Something big.

There has been some sad news amongst our church family on Base this week. While we don't have all the details, we have enough to know that our Chaplain's wife, Deborah, (pronounced Deb-or-uh), went in for emergency surgery to find the source of pain in her abdomen and found out she has cancer. We've all been hit hard by this news. On a Base so small, you have an incredible sense of community. Ch C. is an amazing man. His wife is fantastic. Their daughter celebrated her 6th birthday yesterday. Please keep this family in your prayers.

And while praying, we decided we needed a distraction.

How 'bout the M1?

The M1 is the big mall in Adana. I have only driven off Base a handful of times. And the farthest I have driven is the Sunday and Monday markets. This is much farther.

Like I said: big. Any trip off Base in Turkey is big.

If you saw the roads in Turkey, the drivers in Turkey, the directions in Turkey, you would agree that this is big too. Real big.

So after spending an hour socializing with Hatice, I packed the boys up in the van and picked up Sarah and William at her house. So glad we have our van as they easily fit on Board!

This was a day littered with accomplishments and disappointments. The first accomplishment was actually getting all three boys in their car seats and on the way. But the first disappointment was missing the exit to the M1. This means going miles and miles and miles out of the way. In Turkey, the entire highway is lined with a guardrail which means you can't turn around (unless you find a rare spot where there is no rail and you break the law and make a u-turn.) Exits are few and far between. And just because there is an exit on the right side does NOT mean there is an entrance on the other side.

If I had a dollar for every Turk I have seen backing up down an on ramp, I'd be able to redo the roads in Turkey. And after driving in Turkey, I don't blame them. I'd do it too. Try getting off a highway in the middle of nowhere and not being able to get back on and not knowing where you are. That would be bad.

So as we realized we passed the exit, Stebbins and I were determined not to let that happen. As long as we were on the Interstate, we would know where we were. We wouldn't be technically lost. Just a bit misplaced.

We finally spotted a service plaza on the right hand side of the road. We stopped. Stebs rolled down her window and in only the way Stebs can, informed me that I would do the talking. Stebs jokes about the time she tried to ask a Turkish person to practice Turkish with her and after hearing her start they just shook his head and said, "Please. Don't." Since then, Stebs has decided I will be her default Turkish voice.

Here is where another accomplishment came in to play. I successfully spoke to the gas station pumper guy in Turkish. I remembered to first tell him that I do not speak very much Turkish. I have found that it helps to start a conversation this way. Jumping right into what I wants makes them jump in even faster and leaves me completely spinning in circles as I attempt to tell them I have no idea what they are talking about. After telling him my Turkish was limited, I asked him where the M1 was. He didn't know what I was talking about. Finally we realized that in Turkish the M1 would be the Mbir. Okay. A look of understanding filled his eyes.

For the next minute he gave me directions, in Turkish. By watching his hand gestures and paying attention to the moments he said right and left, I was able to actually figure out what he was telling me! I followed his Turkish words right to the M1. Okay so we had to make one more u-turn. But still! Success!

Once at the M1, Stebs and I decided to visit this toy castle which is actually in the building next to the mall. We found a special gem. Okay so the castle is basically a glorified toy store. But it also included some cars and bikes that the boys could climb on (they still don't know that you can put money in these) as well as an outdoor cafe complete with a playground and small zoo. There were ducks, monkeys, quail (we think), and rabbits.

Here is where one of the disappointing moments crept in again. Isaac and especially Elijah wanted to play with the rabbits. It is so hard to remember that Turkey doesn't have safety precautions like we do in America. Just because it appears to be safe to pet the rabbits doesn't mean it is. As they giggle and squealed and put their fingers in with the rabbits and felt the rabbits tickling their fingers, I felt that familiar check in my spirit. I turned to Sarah. Should I allow them to continue? It's so hard. They are laughing and just in a total state of innocence. You know you should stop them. But you don't.

And Elijah gets bit.

Suddenly he's screaming and his finger is stuck in a rabbit's mouth, and I am trying to pull it away and he is bleeding. He doesn't scream for too long and Stebs and I start conferencing. We know that dog and cat bites or scratches in Turkey are an instant series of rabies shots.

But rabbits?

With no cell phone, I can't call JB and ask him if I have just made a small boo-boo or a very large boo-boo, so we continue on with our day, the rabbit bite nestled at the forefront of my thoughts. We head over to the actual Mbir and go to McDonalds. This is the first time I have eaten at McDonalds since we left the USA, and I enjoy my double cheeseburger immensely. It's a crazy lunch, as you would expect a lunch with three toddlers to be, but Stebs and I continue to gloat about our successful day -- coming to the mall by ourselves! Who would have thought?!

Sad side note. Stebs accidentally got an ARYAN drink when she wanted milk. Oh folks these things are just hideous. It is salty yogurt water. That's the only way I know how to explain it. The Turks love them. The Americans hate them. Blah. But Stebs did practice asking for a burger with no pickle (love my Turkish phrase book) and the boys got balloons and all was well with the world.

In the midst of gloating about our success, we missed the exit on the way back too. You might think we weren't paying attention, but we definitely were. It is just so hard to read signs and figure out which way is which. The time it was probably 20km until we could find a turn around. We saw one exit ramp but we wisely skipped out on going off of it. There was no return entrance ramp to the highway in sight!

We made it home right at nap time and even managed to keep all three boys from falling asleep in the car (thanks to a myriad of songs -- who knew that Stebbins and I both had the same fairly poor voice abilities that when put together don't sound absolutely horrid) and ruining naptime. Stebs had a stellar day. In fact, most of the times we messed up on were because I failed to listen to what she was suggesting. But I did come through with my Turkish! So at least I contributed in some ways to the festivities of the day.

As for the rabbits, a call to JB when I got back to Base left me nearly in tears. He was pretty sure that Elijah was going to have to come in, today, for the first of a five day series of shots in his nail bed, arm, and leg. I felt terrible! But after JB double-checked with public health, we found out that in fact rabbits are not "on the list" and we were free to escape the shots. Praise the Lord!

The only other semi-funny thing to report from the day was that while I was changing both the boys diapers in the women's tuvalet, Elijah handed Isaac a clean diaper. Isaac, thinking he was helping, threw it away in a bathroom stall. I couldn't go grab it since Elijah was laying on the changing table and by the time I could, a woman had used that bathroom and thrown stuff on top of the clean diaper. Oh well.

In addition, as soon as we got home, Elijah walked in, picked up Hatice's duster and stuck it in her bucket of water and then twirled it around getting water all over. While that was occurring, Isaac decided to unpack Hatice's folded laundry.

... and then it was off to naps! I have moved Elijah into the crib in the "office" during naps. There is just too much playing going on at nap time (despite removing all toys from their room.) So bedtime is in the room together and nap time in the office. It's a good arrangement and one that helps keep me sane instead of spending two hours trying to get them go to sleep and stop playing.

Español, Türkçe, Inglizce ... oh my!

Growing up in South Florida, I felt like I had a halfway decent Español (Spanish) vocabulary. I took it in high school. I took it in college. The language is all over the bottom part of Florida. I thought that I knew enough to communicate. At least a little bit.

But if I did know any Español, at any point, I now realize that I no longer can claim that at all.

Learning Türkçe (Turkish) has completely removed any remembrances of Español from my mind. Forever I think.

My dear friend Angelica is from Spain. Español is her first language, and while her Inglizce (English) still has small gaps (mostly in expressions), she speaks amazing Inglizce as well. Her son Noah is bilingual, and her husband Dan, who grew up in Spain as a missionary's son, is also fluent in both languages.

Last night I had the opportunity, albeit brief, to meet Angelica's mother, her aunt, and another friend of their family. They live in Spain. They do not speak Inglizce. I attempted to say something to them in Español and all I could even think to say was: Memnum Oldum (It's nice to meet you!)

That would be good if Memnum Oldum were words in Español. But they are not. Menum Oldum is Türkçe. Sigh ...

So instead I was left to have Angelica translate for me. This caused her to blush a bit since I insisted on saying nice things about her and making her translate them for me.

I remember when we moved here that our friend Nick said he had to decide not to learn Türkçe. The reason is that he is an Inglizce speaker. His wife speaks both Inglizce and Español. He is close to mastering Español and therefore had to admit that he could not learn two new languages at the same time.

I concur Nick! In the past I would have loved to try and speak Español with Angelica. But I must let it go. My tiny brain is only capable of one thing at a time.

Español, Türkçe, Inglizce ... oh my!

Hürrem Sultan Ballet Performance

I had the chance to attend my first ballet in Turkey on Friday evening.

Well, actually, other than a performance of The Nutcracker by my childhood friend Kelly when she was like, ten, this was my first ballet ever.

The ballet was held at the Mersin Opera and Ballet Company. Mersin is a solid hour drive from our home. And, as is often the case in the Turkish culture, things start about an hour later than we would start it in America (7pm is a usual start time in the USA. This was at 8pm.)

So the ballet was at 8pm and an hour away. Those of you who know me well know that this is a real commitment on my part. I really do turn into a pumpkin at about 9:30! Our neighbor Elisa babysat and we headed off at 5:30 in order to give ourselves plenty of time to navigate the foreign roads. JB was the "navigator." We had a total of three cars and thirteen women in our group! And John did a great job getting us to our destination without error. The only issue came when we couldn't get our bilet (ticket) at the toll booth. The machine wasn't working, and we had no idea what to do. After some McGyver work on JB's part, we successfully overcame that obstacle. (This included him getting out of the van on a Turkish highway. Not something I was excited about him doing.)

This cultural opportunity was organized by my new friend Nevin pictured with me in the post I did on the Turkish/American Club last week. She is a retired ballerina, married to an American, with two sons attending University in Maryland. What a fantastic woman she is. She is a former ballerina who recently closed her own ballet school to be able to travel and see her own sons more often. We really have a fantastic connection, and I so enjoy being around her. During Intermission, we were talking with Nevin and her husband. When JB mentioned our hope to purchase some land in Washington in the next few years and have a farm, her husband beamed. They have a farm/orchard that they would like to show us when they return from the States. John was in heaven at the opportunity to experience this in Turkey.

There were actually a total of 15 Americans that attended just from our group. And the number of total Americans in attendance was actually close to 30! Since these types of events are basically funded by the Turkish government, it only cost us 5TL to attend (about $3!) Can't beat that.

I had no idea what to wear to a Turkish ballet. I wasn't sure I could wear a skirt above my knee. I didn't want to wear a fancy dress. So I opted for some dressy black pants and a nice blue shirt. My attire fit in pretty perfectly. People were dressed in all sorts of things. Some wore sweats. Some wore jeans. Some were very dressed up. There were also quite a few women in skirts above the knee. They did wear tights or stockings but seeing them encouraged me. All of my "dressy" clothes are skirts above the knee so to gain "acceptance" for wearing them at future events was encouraging.

We had a snack in the Turkish cafeteria before the ballet started. It was a little store that led out to an outdoor terrace with wooden tables and benches and beautiful greenery. The common fare for a "quick eat" here in Turkey is the American equivalent of a grilled cheese. Nothing special but it will calm a rumbling belly. I also got a few Turkish snacks -- cookies and chocolate. I'm always looking for an opportunity to see what is in all those snack packages.

The ballet itself was very entertaining. The music was absolutely fantastic and done live by an orchestra in a pit. The theatre was well-kept and the seats (and leg room!) comfortable. I found out during intermission that this was the fifth "tier" of professional dancers in Turkey. Four other groups get to pick their dancers first. That said, while I am not a ballet professional, the level of talent seemed lower than what I would see at a professional American ballet. But it was still remarkably beautiful and fun to watch.

One of the things that I found most interesting was that here we were, a group of people who did not speak Turkish, in the company of 1,000 other people who primarily spoke Turkish, and yet we were all able to enjoy the same event and understand what was occurring. How delightful! It was a fantastic evening, and I am so excited we were able to do this.

I have been made aware recently how fast our two years in Turkey is going to go, and I hope we can embrace this experience as fiercely as possible during the time we have.

Run to Overcome

In 2009, Meb Keflezighi won the New York City Marathon. Born in Etritrea, he was the first American to win this race in 27 years, and the pages of this book detail the [parallels of life in this worn-torn African country to running and winning a marathon.

Written in first-person voice, Meb's words will remind you that the small obstacles and frustrations we approach on a daily basis are nothing in the bigger picture of life and the love of Christ. To escape the terror of home, Meb's family made repeat sacrifices and eventually made their way from Italy to America. He came to America unable to speak the language and would later have the opportunity to stand on the medal podium at the Olympics and represent the USA.

You will find this book a simple and easy read. My only complaint while sharing in Meb's story was that some of the people and details included in the pages seemed a bit superfluous. However, this is only one small "aside" to an otherwise entertaining and motivational book. In addition to reading the story of his journey as a writer, you are also presented with tips from both runners and the general public mixed throughout the pages.

As I finished the book, I found myself excited for the opportunity to watch Meb race in the New York City Marathon today! While it's 3pm in Turkey, the world in the United States is just waking up and the runners are getting ready for a fantastic day. I can't wait to see how Meb fairs in the field.

For more information on this encouraging piece of non-fiction, visit Run to Overcome. You can find out how to order the book and can also enter a contest to receive a free copy. Tyndale Publishers is giving away one signed book per day from November 1, 2010 to March 31, 2010. There will be monthly grand prize winners that will receive a signed copy of the book, other free Tyndale titles, as well as ony and PowerBar products.

Good luck Meb!

* In exchange for my honest and object opinion, Tyndale House Publishers has provided me with a complimentary copy of this book.

Two and a Half

How did I get a two and a half year old? Wasn't this blog started as an infertility blog -- a journey through our attempts to have children? And now, somehow, I have one that is halfway to his third birthday.

Here are just a few of the many highlights of this young man's life:DIV>

• Has an unlimited vocabulary. Can say anything and everything. In fact yesterday I got him up from his nap dressed from the ballet and he said, "Mommy, you are beautiful!" I told him to sit in his seat in the car today and he said, "I'm doing it Mommy." When he has a very stinky diaper he'll say, "Oooh. Stinkaroonie."
• Can count to 13.
• Can say his A-B-C's by himself.
• Remembers everything. Can tell you where he was last week, last month, or even last year.
• Loves to be outside.
• Still isn't crazy about all the attention he draws from the Turkish people.
• Will hear a praise song on the IPOD player and sing with it sometimes now.
• Knows the name of his birthmom and will say it when prompted. If asked, "Who's adopted?" he will say, "Elijah's adopted."
• Loves cars of all sorts. If everyone left him alone he would sit on a chair and drive his cars without ceasing.
• Still picks Daddy and Mommy equally when he is upset.
• Doing better with attachment issues but still not crazy about being separated from us. His new favorite phrase is: "You're going to come back Mommy, right?"
• Enjoys skyping. Gets excited to talk to loved ones.
• Can point out buildings on Base. He knows where things are and how to get to different places.
• Is a fairly particular eater.
• Loves his Dalmatian (new and old one), blue bear, and brown bear when he goes to sleep. But if he is missing any of them, he can still go to sleep.
• Is sleeping in a big boy bed.
• Fights with his brother a lot although he is usually not the initiator.
• Will sit on his potty and tell potty to go into the potty but hasn't gone yet.

How lucky we are to be this little boy's Daddy and Mommy. Joan and Grama Di, you just spent two weeks with him. What am I leaving out?

BoogaBooga

Centering around the characters of Marty the Monkey and Gerard the Giraffe, BoogaBooga Land attempts to retell parables from the Bible through allegory.

Based on Richard Milner's beloved allegories, each episode follows the story-line of a Biblical parable while entertaining and delighting audiences both young (my sons) and me (grown-up).

This particular DVD featured three fifteen minute episodes including: (1) So This is Booga (The Workers in the Vineyard - Matthew 20:1-16 (2)Marty's Sandcastle (The Wise and Foolish Builders - Matthew 7:24-27) (3) No Light in the Lighthouse (The Lamp Under the Bowl - Matthew 5:14-16)

I decided that I couldn't fairly review this video without two of the best judges. My son Elijah will be two in January. My son Isaac has just reached two and a half. Their non-verbal opinions would weigh equally with my own verbosity.

So we all sat down to watch BoogaBooga. The title alone enraptured them, and I found myself regretting that I told them we were going to watch BoogaBooga before we were exactly ready to turn it on. (I mean doesn't BoogaBooga just sound cool?)

So first me. I enjoyed the music in this DVD immensely. I also enjoyed some of the clean humor that went right over my boys' heads but not over mine (and that's saying a lot since I am 6'3"!) The first two episodes were especially good. The allegory was a bit of a stretch and other than a Biblical reference to start the fifteen minute session there was no religious references. However, this is part of what would make this intriguing to both Christian and secular audiences.

My boys sat through the entire forty-five minutes without budging. Isaac even told his Daddy later that evening what they had seen and asked to watch it again that night. This is saying a lot. We all started to get a bit restless by the third episode. I am not sure if this was because we had watched them back-to-back-to-back or because it lacked a bit of the focus and clarity that the first two did.

Overall, a great DVD for people of all ages and all faiths.

*Booksneeze provided me with a copy of this DVD in exchange for my honest and objective review. Now that my life is in a semi-state of normalcy, I took an opportunity to accept another review opportunity from Booksneeze. I always try to pick something that I think would be applicable to myself or my family and Adventures in BoogaBooga Land definitely fit that requirement. And they provide me with a complimentary copy in exchange for my objective and honest review.

Centering around the characters of Marty the Monkey and Gerard the Giraffe, BoogaBooga Land attempts to retell parables from the Bible through allegory. Based on Richard Milner’s beloved allegories, each episode follows the story-line of a Biblical parable while entertaining and delighting audiences both young (my sons) and me (grown-up).

This particular DVD featured three fifteen minute episodes including:

• So This is Booga (The Workers in the Vineyard – Matthew 20:1-16
• Marty’s Sandcastle (The Wise and Foolish Builders – Matthew 7:24-27)
• No Light in the Lighthouse (The Lamp Under the Bowl – Matthew 5:14-16)

I decided that I couldn’t fairly review this video without two of the best judges. My son Elijah will be two in January. My son Isaac has just reached two and a half. Their non-verbal opinions would weigh equally with my own verbosity. So we all sat down to watch BoogaBooga. The title alone enraptured them, and I found myself regretting that I told them we were going to watch BoogaBooga before we were exactly ready to turn it on. (I mean doesn’t BoogaBooga just sound cool?)

So first me. I enjoyed the music in this DVD immensely. I also enjoyed some of the clean humor that went right over my boys’ heads but not over mine (and that’s saying a lot since I am 6’3”!) The first two episodes were especially good. The allegory was a bit of a stretch and other than a Biblical reference to start the fifteen minute session there was no religious references. However, this is part of what would make this intriguing to both Christian and secular audiences.

My boys sat through the entire forty-five minutes without budging. Isaac even told his Daddy later that evening what they had seen and asked to watch it again that night. This is saying a lot. We all started to get a bit restless by the third episode. I am not sure if this was because we had watched them back-to-back-to-back or because it lacked a bit of the focus and clarity that the first two did.

Overall, a great DVD for people of all ages and all faiths.

Thanks Rachel!

November is National Adoption Month, a month set aside each year to raise awareness about the adoption of children and youth from foster care. This year's National Adoption Month initiative targets adoption professionals by focusing on ways to recruit and retain parents for the 115,000 children and youth in foster care waiting for adoptive families.

My online friend Rachel sent me the following quip. Love it:

Natural child: Any child who is not artificial.
Real parent: Any parent who is not imaginary.
Your own child: Any child who is not someone else's child.
Adopted child: A natural child, with a real parent, who is all my own.

All before naptime

I'm not one of those crafty moms. But there were fingerpaints on sale at the BX last night, and I bought them. And today we painted. And the boys absolutely loved it. Especially Isaac. He's told JB nearly a dozen times and showed his pictures off even more.

Today was one of those days that truly felt like it was occurring in slow motion. In addition to the painting depicted above, the following was accomplished before naps at 1pm:

• Three breakfasts made for one dog and two little boys
• Own breakfast eaten (fast)
  
• Six diaper changes (three each child)
  
• Three outfit changes (out of pj's, out of paint clothes, out of lunchtime clothes thanks to eating yogurt and spaghetti solo)
• Finger painting (depicted above)
  
• One three mile bike ride with boys in bike trailer and Scrubs on leash (with two pauses so that Scrubs could do his business that I thought he had already done)
  
• One trip to the gym to do some upper arms and stomach exercises (after dropping Scrubs off at home)
• One DVD watched: Adventures in Booga Booga Land (more to come on this in an upcoming post)
• Two lunches made and served to two little boys
• Two lunches heated up and served to husband (home from work for lunch -- I love this) and self
• Five time-outs administered
• One dishwasher run
  
• Seventy-three toys picked up and put away
• Four make-your-own apple juice popsicles wedged out of their containers
• One dog kennel cleaned out after it was borrowed to catch a stray cat
  
• Three bags of garbage put outside
• Two loads of laundry done (and redone when stains didn't come out from pasta lunch)
  
• Skyped with Papa and Grama Di
• Skyped with Joni
• Read twelve books
• Sent seven emails
  

I have heard people say to treasure these days with your young children. "The minutes and hours and days will drag by," someone once said. "But the years will fly by."

So true.

I truly cannot believe that Elijah will be two in January and Isaac is almost two and a half. It has flown by. But some days, like today, just seem to drag on. I looked at the clock at one point thinking it was time for lunch and discovered that it was only 10:13am!

Isn't it nap time yet?!

Brant

We just skyped with Joni. She reminded me that today was the day that their son Brant passed away in 1989. He was seven years old. One year later Bri joined their family. Brant was the first child I ever babysat for. I was thirteen years old when he passed away, and I truly will, never forget everything he taught me about responsibility, patience, love, and life. Hope today brings wonderful memories Joni.

Do-over please

JB got home very late last night. 11pm I think -- though, to be honest, I'm not exactly sure when it was. I was so groggy and in that sleep state where I knew if I talked too much I'd be wide awake and unable to go back to sleep. I mumbled a hello and a good night and rolled over and fell back to sleep.

Unfortunately his alarm in Germany was still programmed into his watch and thus at 4:30am we were jarred awake. We dozed and talked a bit over the next hour. When Elijah and Isaac started chattering at 5:30am (darned time change), John perked right up. Isaac had remembered that Daddy would be here when he woke up this morning. "Daddy!" we heard him call through the monitor. "Daddy! I need my prize!" I so enjoyed seeing the reunion that followed as the boys face lit up to see their Daddy there to get them up. I am so blessed to have a husband walk this journey with me and love our boys as intensely as I do.

JB had brought Toy Story home for the boys. And while at first you could tell that Isaac thought this prize was not nearly as good as a real toy, the three of them sat together and watched the entire movie before JB had to leave for work at 8:00.

And that's where my morning really began. It was one of those mornings that I just felt like God must have made a mistake. He must have gotten me confused with some other woman when he thought I would be capable of taking care of two toddlers at the same time. Egads. I couldn't get anything right. Both boys were crying, toys were flying, the dog was whining, food was burning, and both my legs were being held onto with tons of tears and great gnashing of teeth.

With the chaos of the morning still lingering in the air, we arrived at the Base gate at 9:55am to meet some friends. Since I hadn't gotten to the market this past weekend due to JB's departure, our produce was completely depleted, and we were in dire need of mooz ve elma (bannans and apples) amongst other things. We parked our vehicles and set up our strollers. The Thursday market is only a few blocks outside of the gate so we wouldn't need our cars. Walking out of the gate is much easier than driving -- when possible.

Tina, Beth, Stebbins, and I walked up to the gate. Tina went through. Beth went through. Stebbins went through. I, did not. My favorite Turkish guard pointed out that my gate pass had expired yesterday. I guess I should be learning Turkish faster than I am since the date is written in Turkish on the ID card. The Turkish guard explained to me that he could not let me leave with an expired pass. And, he in fact, kept my pass as he sent me walking the other way. We finally decided that Beth and Tina should go on to the market. Stebbins, who had gotten her own pass aupdated few days earlier, could show me how and where to get this accomplished.

Or so we thought.

We decided to walk to the administration building since loading the kids up and unloading them would take longer than walking. Halfway there, Stebbins informed me I would need JB's orders. Okay, no problem. I can get those at the Clinic which is across the parking lot from the admin. building.

Orders in hand, I walked into the admin. building. Do I have JB's ID? No. Just his orders. Do I have my old gate pass? No. They took it at the gate. Do I have my residency permit. No. Do I have my passport? No. After much discussion with the guy behind the desk, I came to find out that I would have to get my residency permit from home and JB's ID from him at the Clinic. As for the old gate pass? They could make due without it, but I should have come in before the pass expired so that they didn't take my pass. "I didn't know when it is expired since it is written in Turkish," I said. "You could have come in and asked us or looked on the Internet to translate the date," he replied. Oh. Of course.

At that point I was near tears and told Sarah I wanted to wait until tomorrow to try to make my way through all these hoops. The hoops that you have to jump through and the fact that you don't know where the next hoop is or even how to get there sometimes, is one of the things that most drives me crazy in regards to a government run organization. It is exhausting. Everything feels so random and there are so many steps.

Stebbins was wonderful. She walked with me back to my car and pointed out the good things about the day. JB was home. The weather was beautiful. The boys were being incredibly good (lollipops in hand.) She was right. But I still needed to go home, take a nap, and start over tomorrow in "do-over" mode.

Praise the Lord for good friends. All three of the other women involved called or emailed me and reminded me that I was exactly the right Mom for my boys. That I was doing a good job. That it would be okay. They gave me the gumption to start over tomorrow and start afresh.

And so I will.

Precious Gems

What I did not mention on the blog during the last few days is that JB has been out of town. It's called TDY (tour of duty) when you are in the military. The military sent him to Germany for some training. Joan and my Mom left on Saturday morning. JB left on Sunday morning. It was difficult to go from four adults to one adult in the house in a matter of hours. He was only gone three nights but three nights when you have two toddlers is a lot.

It's amazing how the Lord knows just what you need. Friday evening was Halloween -- a huge community activity on Base. But doing it with two toddlers by yourself can be quite daunting. Isaac, however, is old enough to know what is going on and he was not going to take staying home as a solution to our one-parent-home. So I got them dressed and was wondering how I was going to successfully get these two little guys around by myself when Stebbins and her husband Ryan show up at the house.

For the rest of the night we were three parents with three kids. They helped me carry them, chase them, hug them. It was wonderful. It was such a fun evening. We went to a few houses and we went to the "All Saints Festival" alternative at the Chapel. The Lord knew what I needed before I could even utter a prayer. Thanks Heavenly Father for caring about the small things.

Stebbins and me looking a tad bit frazzled with Clifford, a penguin, and a lion to keep us busy.

Outside the house after a wonderful evening. Look at William (the penguin's face) here.

Attempting to play a game at the church. It was a bit chaotic. We successfully played one game which included picking up a plastic ducky and seeing what number was on the bottom. And, somehow, that ducky ended up in our treat bag. Ha!

Every time I am flying solo, my heart goes out to single parents. This job is full-time and when you don't have anyone to pat you on the back, help you brush teeth, or take turns making a meal, it can be quite daunting. To those of you who are doing this by yourself -- either due to deployment or some other reason -- my hat is off to you. I love my boys but man my husband helps me a lot.

P.S. JB is home. He is watching his "prize" for the boys -- Toy Story 1 -- with them in our movie room. Sweetness. He got home very late. He got up very early. He's exhausted. But we sure are glad to have him home.

P.S.S. This is actually my 3,000 post! Yikers!

Aunt Karen turns ...

My Grama Medema's sister is celebrating a birthday today. Aunt Karen is one cool chick. She is quite a few years younger than my Grama which made her and my Mom more like cousins growing up instead of aunt and niece. I know she follows my blog quite a bit and prays and thinks of us a lot. I have fantastic memories of spending time on their small farm in Illinois when I was growing up. Her daughter, Amy and I, were pen-pals and quite good buds for many years. Happy Birthday Auntie Karen! Thanks for being such a cool chick.

Helper

Isaac as he is taking clothes out of the dryer and putting them on the couch: "I am such a good helper."

Mommy: "You are a good helper. Are you going to get all of the clothes out for me?"

Isaac: "No."

*****

While hanging out with Stebbins in the van while I ran an errand, Isaac told Stebbins that his Daddy: "Works inside that hospital."

"What does your Daddy do?" Stebbins asked.

"He's a doctor."

"What does your Mommy do?"

"She gives me kisses."

Awwww...

Yes there are ...

... mushrooms growing in my bathroom.

When we moved into our new house, I told JB that I really wanted to make our bedroom and bathroom a "sanctuary." He agreed.

Then a box arrived. Then the box was opened. Then the opened contents moved into our upstairs bathroom.

I love my husband but I had to ask. I had to question. I had to ascertain whether there was anywhere else in our house that these mushrooms could grow.

He explained that they need a moist, damp "climate." They also needed a place where they could get some light but a limited amount.

"I can't think of anywhere else we can put them but in our bathroom," he explained.

Again, I love my husband, and I love his incredible love for nature. We have had snakes and plants of all sorts growing in our home at different times. I've had black widows in Tupperware containers. I have come home to find a sign that read: "Caution. Wild birds in bathroom." We have tended to hurt bunnies and birds and studied spiders. We have had books on everything and anything in our home.

In fact, I remember my cousin Josh telling me that he knew he had spent too much time with JB when: "I saw a book in your living room entitled: Swine Science and I actually thought about flipping through it."

But mushrooms in the bathroom? Hatice saw them. She said: "Me like this."

But I'm not sure I do.

P.S. And yes these are mushrooms you eat. From our bathroom to our pasta dishes and salads. I kid you not.

Chubby belly chicken

Today while eating lunch in the food court, Elijah decided to try and shove his chicken into my mouth. He was giggling and hoping I'd try to snag a bite.

"You put that chicken into your tummy," I said as I told him I didn't want any.

He smiled, stood up on his chair, lifted up his shirt, and pushed that piece of chicken right into his chubby belly.

I think that is called taking me too literally?

Pre-Halloween Costumes

I love the community on this Base! I mentioned to my neighbor Emily that I didn't have any costumes for Halloween. I had one cowboy outfit that Joia had passed off to me but the boys just didn't want to put it on. I told her I would think of something, but she thought of something for me! On Friday morning, the day before my Mom and Joni went home, Emily left two costumes that her kids have outgrown by my front door.

I really did not think the boys would want to wear them. Especially Isaac. He can be quite particular. But boy did he prove me wrong. He was so excited to be Clifford! He didn't want to take it off.

***As a side note, I am not an endorser of celebrating "Halloween" in the traditional sense. We don't do scary costumes or celebrate death or the Devil. But I do think this event can be done in a tasteful way to simply provide a fun day for kids and adults. I also think you can put a Christian "spin" on the holiday. For instance, cleaning out a pumpkin is how God cleans out our hearts of sin. That sort of thing.

***I would love to hear what your kids dressed up as and what you think of Halloween.

Here we are fixing Elijah's costume after accidentally putting it on backward the first time.

The mirror was on Isaac's left. He loved seeing himself.

Elijah thought the lion, while a bit big, was fantastic. He got the roar down and everything.

We decided to "practice" trick-or-treating by knocking on Emily's door. She and her four kids were home and even brought out candy to help teach the boys how this all works.

Taking a long look at that bowl of candy.

Sucking on a lollipop.

Isaac picking out his candy. After this we went over to Ms. Barbara's on the other side of us for another practice round. Way fun!

You can just see their brains working: "Man, we look good!"

Language

I LOVE watching my boys develop their language skills. As I work to develop my Turkish, I can totally understand the errors they are making as they work to develop their English.

Pronouns are the greatest. Of course the infamous, "I want to hold you Mommy," is every mother's greatest joy. But today I heard another variation.

Isaac, hiding in the closet. "Mommy, where are me?"

And then also you have to wonder what they think of all the questions adults ask.

Isaac, in response to the question of whether he wanted to be a policeman when he grows up told me, "No. Elijah wants to be a policeman."

Okay, so what do you want to be when you grow up Isaac. "A baby," he responded.

Hmmm . . .

When asked what his favorite toy was Isaac responded to Joni, "New toys."

Smart kid.

Elijah is also having his vocabulary grow in leaps and bounds. Not only does he still sign a bunch, but he is starting to put the word "too" with things he wants to do. "Jump. Too." "Down. Too." Or he'll use his name to request his involvement. "Lijah. Book." "Lijah. Milk."

We are all having a great time learning from each other.

Seriously?!

I don't believe in luck. Or bad luck. But maybe I should.

I tell you, when it comes to people and fixing stuff at our house, I have the worst luck.

Firstly. Our bathtub. They came and fixed it once. This includes the base fix-it people who have to come, agree that it is under warranty (the houses are so new) and then instead send the people who built the house.

But it was still leaking. The leak was a lot slower but was there nonetheless.

I put it off as long as I could and then called again. Yet again the base fix-it people had to come, agree that it is, still, under warranty, and send the other guys.

The other guys come on Friday. They fix the very minor issue of our gate door not latching without great difficulty. (They have fixed one gate already but now the other one is doing it.) Then they tell me that they can't do the bathtub until Monday. Really?!

Or as they say in Turkey: Oyle mi!

So I tell them anytime on Monday is okay. As soon as they drive away, I regret this decision. Between 1 and 3pm in my home is quiet time. The boys nap. I rest. I just don't like to be bothered by outside forces during this time.

So the morning proceeds normally. 1pm rolls around. When they weren't here by 1pm, I decided to put the boys down. I was exhausted. But not ten minutes after I laid down, they showed up. I kid you not. Of all the hours in the day, why is it that exactly when I have quiet time, the quiet evaporates?

Is that bad luck or Murphy's Law or what is it?

I'm not sure but I do know that it stopped me from getting a nap. Bummer!