this is for the hubs.

Just fyi, my dramatic statement two posts ago about no coffee for the summer months? Well, its no secret I’m a drama queen.  I fully intended it when I wrote it, but I just can’t keep it up.  Its been one day.  I like coffee too much.  (But I will try to ration it.)  And my husband keeps giving me the evil eye if I take a sip or if someone offers me coffee.  Meaning, “You put it out in the blogworld.  You’ve gotta keep your promise now.”

So this is for you, love.  I’m retracting my dramatic statement and making a new one.  I will try to stay away from coffee for the summer months.  But no promises.

happy things.

:: The little one is having a heyday in my belly.  Feeling him squirm is so fun.

:: Visiting friends at the moment.  Lots of laughs. Good food and conversation.  Easy and laid-back fellowship.  Iced toddy.  All are good things for my soul.

:: Came back to our friend’s house (from an event) early last night to bathe Jones and put him to bed.  Their place is set up so beautifully and thoughtfully.  Had a few hours of total quiet, all alone, with rain falling outside, in a beautiful place.  (And I ate an ice cream bar.)

:: My amazing hubs got up early with Jones and let me sleep in.  Till 9:30. (!!) It was awesome.

:: Got to take Jones to Tama Zoo today, let him roam around, and have some good chat time with my friend, miss Molly.

:: My husband still looks at me like I’m sexy, even though I have a big bump under my clothes.  It’s hot.

coffee + long walks + hot weather + prideful youth = bad news for my uterus.

I’m chillin’ on the couch, attempting to stay still, while the men in my life run errands so we can pack up and head to Tokyo tomorrow.  For a party.  With some of our favoritest friends.

I just finished my fifteenth or sixteenth glass of water today.  No joke.  I’ve been to the potty more times than I can remember.  I have contractions.  Or Braxton-Hicks.  Or whatever.  The point is that they are regular and annoying, and I know its because I took a super long exercise-type walk with Jones in the jogging stroller the other day.  And because I didn’t slow down for the hills but just puffed right through them, because I’m 25 and pregnant, not 45.  And because I drink coffee and often forget that chocolate has caffeine, too.  And because a shroud of HOT-NESS has descended upon Shizuoka.  (I heard someone say the other day that she wants to name the humidity and treat it like a friend, since it feels like a wholly separate being has stepped into her life.)

I’m dehydrated, I think.  And I’m young and foolish.

I often pick up Jones, all 25 or 30 pounds of him.  And I carry him everywhere, though my belly is clearly protruding as much as a 9-months-pregnant Japanese woman’s.  I climb hills and drink my black beverages.  (Seriously, though, its less than a whole cup a day.)  And now these annoying little friends have come to visit the past three days.  They go away only after a night’s rest.  Poor little guy in there.  I have always wondered what contractions must feel like for the babe in the womb.

So I’m laying low.  And drinking gallons.  And bidding farewell to coffee for the summer months. (A very, very sad goodbye.)

And I’ll try to be better about holding Jones’s hand rather than hauling him up over my big bump.  Though I do enjoy the hugs I get when he’s in that place.  He’s been giving such good hugs lately.

the motherly sort. (and freedoms of baby two.)

I was looking back on old photos of Jones as a baby and reading some old posts from that time.  And can I say how glad I am that I am not having another ‘first baby’???! There is nothing like the experience of being a new mom, but I am quite okay to leave that experience in the past.  It was hard.  And I cried.  A lot.  Not that I won’t cry this time, too, but I am really enjoying the relative peace of having done this at least once.  I don’t freak out about every little pregnancy ache and pain.  I don’t feel the kicks in my tummy and think, “Holy crap!  That’s really a living thing in there!”   I don’t see my approaching due date and wonder at all the freedoms I’ll lose and how much my life will change.  I’m a far too serious person, I think, to survive another ‘first baby.’  Good thing its not within the realm of possibility.  I just might pull out my hair.

Instead.. I’m really enjoying my belly getting bigger and rounder.  (And enjoying the hope that my belly will look like this a few more times at least! *wink wink*)  I don’t mind my stretch marks as much.  I’m prouder of what my body can accomplish and less shy of the form it’s taking.  I’m not all-consumed with the thought of labor and delivery, wondering if I’ll even survive.  (Oh, the drama!) I am SO excited to meet the little dude.  I’m eager to see what he looks like, to hold a newborn again, to watch his personality grow.  I can’t wait to see how our life will change with his entrance into the world!  I know it will be challenging, but it will be so good for me.  For his daddy.  Perhaps especially for Jones.  I feel content to just wait for him to come.

With Jones, I was so freaked out, I just wanted to get it over with.  Thank the Lord for growth.  And change.  And a little bit of needed perspective.

Pre-Jones, I just was not the motherly sort.  I wasn’t dying to have babies when I got married, though I knew I wanted them someday.  I wasn’t overcome with romance when I saw my firstborn’s crinkled little face.  In fact, all I could think was, “It’s done..  I did it..  I want to sleep..  Who’s child is that?”  I remember totally flipping out over the decision of whether or not to give him a pacifier.  “B-b-but the breastfeeding brochure says..”  Needless to say, it took the two of us quite a while to get used to each other and find our groove.  Jones was very forgiving of my un-motherly-ness and my constant worrying during the first months (first year, perhaps?) of his life.  He patiently waited for me to grow into the role and seems happy with where we’ve landed.  I’m happy, too.  Happier than I’ve ever been, in fact.  It makes me want to have lots of babies.

Speaking of such, my little man is due from his nap.  Please enjoy this other post on the freedoms of baby two here — at Hausfrau, by Darby.

temperaments for a rainy day.

The forecast says “cloudy,” but its been raining since 4a and doesn’t look like it will stop anytime soon.  I’m gearing up for a morning inside with my little man (forts? trains? movies? drumming?) before taking off for the afternoon to read and enjoy some time away.  I plan to do some thinking and praying about motherhood and what God asks of me — just in the last day or two, I’ve felt Him telling me that I’m doing okay.. or at the very least that there isn’t some huge error He’s being dying to bring up and just waiting for me to ask.  I’ve felt another release into freedom.  It’s quite nice.

So.. taking a break from the heavy ’stuff’ of parenthood — I’ve always been infatuated with Myers-Briggs and personality types.  Recently, I’ve been reading through some descriptions of myself and of Bryan to see if our tested types match who we really are — and just because its nice to have the little quirks of your life validated every once in a while.  I always chuckle when I read and am reminded how utterly contrasted my husband and I are.  Behold, your entertainment for a rainy day — our Keirsey personality types (a shoot-off of Myers-Briggs).

The Promoter (an Artisan personality type) — Bryan — ESTP
There are lots of Promoters, maybe ten or so percent of the population, and life is never dull around them. In a word, they are men and women of action. When a Promoter is present, things begin to happen: the lights come on, the music plays, the games begin. Clever and full of fun, Promoters live with a theatrical flourish which makes even the most routine events seem exciting. Not that they waste much time on routine events. In work and in play, Promoters demand new activities and new challenges. Bold and daring at heart, and ever-optimistic that things will go their way, Promoters will take tremendous risks to get what they want, and seem exhilarated by walking close to the edge of disaster. Because of this, they make the very best trouble-spot administrators and negotiators, and they can be outstanding entrepreneurs, able to swing deals and kick-start enterprises in a way no other type can.

Promoters also have a hearty appetite for the finer things of life, the best food, the best wine, expensive cars, and fashionable clothes. And they are extremely sophisticated in social circles, knowing many, many people by name, and knowing how to say just the right thing to most everyone they meet.

Charming, confident, and popular, Promoters delight their friends and investors with their endless supply of stories and jokes. At the same time, these smooth operators are usually something of a mystery to others. While they live in the moment and lend excitement – and unpredictability – to all their relationships, they rarely let anyone get really close to them. They have a low tolerance for authority and commitment, and are likely to leave situations where they are expected to toe the mark, or where they must play second fiddle. Promoters understand well the maxim, “He who travels fastest, travels alone,” although they are not likely to be lonely for long, since their boldness and sense of adventure tends to make them highly attractive to many other people.

Counselor (an Idealist personality type) — Jamie — INFJ
Counselors have an exceptionally strong desire to contribute to the welfare of others, and find great personal fulfillment interacting with people, nurturing their personal development, guiding them to realize their human potential. Although they are happy working at jobs (such as writing) that require solitude and close attention, Counselors do quite well with individuals or groups of people, provided that the personal interactions are not superficial, and that they find some quiet, private time every now and then to recharge their batteries. Counselors are both kind and positive in their handling of others; they are great listeners and seem naturally interested in helping people with their personal problems. Not usually visible leaders, Counselors prefer to work intensely with those close to them, especially on a one-to-one basis, quietly exerting their influence behind the scenes.

Counselors are scarce, little more than one percent of the population, and can be hard to get to know, since they tend not to share their innermost thoughts or their powerful emotional reactions except with their loved ones. They are highly private people, with an unusually rich, complicated inner life. Friends or colleagues who have known them for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that Counselors are flighty or scattered; they value their integrity a great deal, but they have mysterious, intricately woven personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.

Counselors tend to work effectively in organizations. They value staff harmony and make every effort to help an organization run smoothly and pleasantly. They understand and use human systems creatively, and are good at consulting and cooperating with others. As employees or employers, Counselors are concerned with people’s feelings and are able to act as a barometer of the feelings within the organization.

Blessed with vivid imaginations, Counselors are often seen as the most poetical of all the types, and in fact they use a lot of poetic imagery in their everyday language. Their great talent for language-both written and spoken-is usually directed toward communicating with people in a personalized way. Counselors are highly intuitive and can recognize another’s emotions or intentions – good or evil – even before that person is aware of them. Counselors themselves can seldom tell how they came to read others’ feelings so keenly. This extreme sensitivity to others could very well be the basis of the Counselor’s remarkable ability to experience a whole array of psychic phenomena.

_______________________________

Well.. I don’t know about ‘psychic phenomena’, but I have had some interesting spiritual experiences that would fit the bill.  Interesting, isn’t it?  To read and think through these things?  Also interesting to think that your interest level has much to do with your personality type — Bryan is amused by the thoughts, but doesn’t take them to heart and mull over them like I do. (Being married is so amazing.  I love seeing our differences and learning more about each other and ourselves.)

Go check it out. You may have to do some clicking around under the “Four Temperaments” to find your Myers-Briggs. If you don’t know your Myers-Briggs, click here for an abbreviated (and free!) test.  If you end up posting your results, comment and I’ll set up a link.

Enjoy!

lazy or laidback :: culture take

Japan, like every culture, has a unique way of dealing with kiddos and little ones.  Babies sleep with their parents (and other siblings) till they are six or seven, sometimes longer.  Babies are carried everywhere, sleep whenever, and eat whenever.  Kids are disciplined more by their schools than by their parents.

As they say in cross-cultural training:  “Its not wrong, its just different.”

There are some parts of the child-rearing practices of the Japanese culture that I think are harmful (for instance, in general, parents don’t have much authority in their children’s lives), and parts that I’ve come to see as just normal for Japanese life.  They think its insane that a baby has his or her own room and often muse to me, “How do Americans get their kids to fall asleep without laying with them?”

I think my motherhood has been unknowingly shaped by living in this new culture, separated from the books, clubs, talks, and meetings of American Christian culture.  I certainly miss many aspects of this, but one thing I am truly grateful for is that I feel I’ve been given a clean slate, a fresh opporutnity to figure out what truly matters to me as a mother, apart from the influence of everyone else.  When I think of this, I smile and remember that my Jesus knows me SO WELL.  I am so often motivated by guilt, by the desire to please, by not wanting to rock the boat.  In my first year of motherhood, I was bombarded by ideas and opinions across the spectrum, and my clogged and overloaded heart just couldn’t take it.  I was always wondering if I was ruining Jones for life, while simultaneously feeling the guilt of the repercussions he would experience at age 20 from whatever was ailing me at the moment.

I forget that so much of that has changed.  I have been given so much freedom — moving to Japan has provided my savior with a forum with which to do some MAJOR reconstructing, showing me how little of that blessed freedom I experience.

This shines a little light on my last post.  I’m still wondering, I don’t want to swing too far in one direction — and I think I would really like to spend a day praying about convictions for my mothering.

lazy or laid back?

In reference to my mothering, I’ve been asking the above question a lot recently.  Still not certain of the answer.

The daily practices I’ve been wondering about:

• Jones naps sometimes from 1:30 to 3:30, sometimes from 2 to 4ish, and sometimes I don’t get around to putting him in bed till 3:00 — usually because he’s playing and enjoying so much, and I don’t really care to interfere.
• We always read books on mommy and daddy’s bed before bedtime, but everything else in the nighttime routine is up for grabs.  Sometimes there’s a bath, sometimes there isn’t.  Sometimes we watch part of a movie, sometimes we play, sometimes we are out-of-the-house until bedtime.
• I don’t push him too much on accepting new foods.  I put things on his plate, and sometimes I make him try a bite, and sometimes I don’t.
• He always sits in his chair for meals, but often he’ll watch a cartoon while he’s eating so I can fix myself what I’m going to eat.  We eat a few times a week together as a family for dinnertime.  Other times, Bryan is out studying, or I’m not hungry when Jones is, etc etc.
• In general, if Jones asks for food of some sort, I take it as a cue that he must be hungry and let him have it.  If he asks for more, I usually say no and tell him we’ll wait for the next meal.  But I rarely say ‘no’ to a first-time snack request.
• He has HATED milk from the get go.  He breastfed (off and on from 15 months or so) till 20 months, when he self-weaned.  He’s always loved yogurt, so I’ve let that be his dairy and source of calcium (with some cheese, too).  He’s never had a full glass of milk — and I’ve always wondered if that was okay.  I remember having battles with my mom over milk (because I hated it too) and wonder if I’m missing out on some essential part of parenthood.  Like, “All kids must drink milk with dinner.”
• We kind of do ‘whatever’ during the day.  Sometimes we play outside, sometimes we play trains, sometimes we go places, sometimes we watch movies.  I don’t have a set TV time for him, or room time, or a day he can play with friends.  We ‘wing it’ on a daily basis.
• I let him jump on the couch.  And get rowdy with his toys.  And eat snacks while walking around the house.

Catalysts for the wondering:

• Observing other (American) families and the way they do things, and if things are different or they are stricter on some areas than we are, I inevitably wonder if I should adopt what they do.
• Knowing I had a baby when I was young and before I felt ‘ready’.
• My boy is extremely rowdy — and hard to control when in public.  I’m not certain if he’s this way because of how I parent him, or just because its who he is.  (He gets disciplined for crossing the lines in any way — not coming when we ask, throwing fits when we have to ‘help him’ do something, hitting mom or dad, running into the parking lot, etc. — but he’s a doozy when we’re away from home!)
• I thought that I thought through how my son’s actions and behavior affected other people when we were in public and was careful to act, teach, and train accordingly.  But some recent criticism has made me wonder if I’m not strict enough.

The main question I’ve been pondering recently is whether or not I should care about these practices.  In general, they’ve always been on my “Second List”, behind the things on my “First List”, like obedience, repentance, kindness, enjoying life and nature, learning to pray, knowing you are loved and cherished, etc.  I’m not saying that if you do things differently than I do, that your priorities are out-of-whack or something — I’m just wondering, is what I’m doing okay?  Is it harmful, helpful, or neutral for Jones?  What will this cultivate in him later in life?  And if I do end up caring, am I doing so because I don’t want to upset other people, or because it is a conviction I’m following?  At the moment, I don’t care.  These don’t bother me, and I’ve never really cared enough to fork over the effort that scheduling and some other parenting techniques require.  I did the scheduling thing when Jones was an infant, and it brought anger, frustration, and craziness into my life — I didn’t like my baby very much, and that wasn’t the goal of being a mommy.  When I threw it out, things changed for the good.  I’ve just been reflecting — did I throw out too much? Or was it appropriate for our family and our needs?

Sometimes I really wish there were a manual for this sort of thing.  When Jones grows up, the only thing I truly care about him knowing and understanding is that me, his daddy, and Jesus are all safe places for him, no matter what happens.

Addendum:  Found this post at GirlTalk later after writing this post.  Good thoughts.

time flies.

June 2004 – didn’t know Bryan existed.
June 2005 – in Japan for the summer, totally head-over-heels in love with my team leader, Bryan.  not dating.
June 2006 – married to Bryan for one month.
June 2007 – our first offspring was 3 months old.
June 2008 – been living in Japan for 4 months.
June 2009 – 5 months pregnant with offspring number two.

i have so enjoyed this full life, with all its emotional ups and downs. 

life music :: coldplay

In a nutshell, I love music.  It so often shapes my mood.  It helps me rest, teaches me to slow down, gives my heart a lift, enables me to see the world and my life a little bit clearer.  It gives me perspective, and I feel so blessed to see and experience God and His handiwork via music.  And I am not in one bit joking or being fluffy with my words, music truly does this for me.  I have so many examples.  Today, I’ll write about Coldplay.

I remember where I was when I heard my first Coldplay song.  I was a highschooler, in the garage of our old house on Main Street, trying my best to look like I was busy organizing items for my mom’s garage sale whilst daydreaming about a boy I had yet to meet — the one who would notice me across the room, though he’d never seen me before that moment, and would come talk to me.  I often daydreamed that scenario, wondering with each cute boy I encountered if it would happen, being disappointed when it didn’t.  (Oh, I eventually got my moment — and what a moment it was!! That’s another story, I guess.)  When I think about all those imagined scenarios, it seems beyond me that I would have NEVER categorized myself as a romanticist or a daydreamer until the past two years.  Seriously.  That garage moment (with the millions of others like it) screams romanticism.  But also, now that I’m older and wiser (ahem), I know that romanticism includes more than just crushes and falling in love — its being a daydreamer and living in the clouds with the possiblities and the wonders of events yet to come.  But I’m losing myself again in another story.  What’s the point again?  Coldplay?  I promise to get back on topic.

So.. Coldplay.  Yes, I was in the garage, pretending to do prep work like folding or labeling, and we were listening to the radio.  It was sunny outside, I heard “Yellow” for the first time, and I instantly fell in love.  I wanted to buy the album, but settled for a friend burning the song and a few others to CD.  I eventually bought the album (”Parachutes”) as a sophomore in college, along with “A Rush of Blood to the Head”.  (Was that really six years ago??)  “Shiver” and “Amsterdam” became my new favorite songs.  It was fall and the beginning of school.  I had just broken up with my boyfriend of two years.  My very serious, very bad-for-me boyfriend.  I had been at a spiritual fork in the road, and I knew that if I didn’t end the relationship, I would be walking away from a full life in Christ.  Something in me would die and perhaps never come back.  God would exist on the peripheral of my life.  This realization stunned me into an obedient life I had previously been too scared to follow through with.  So I did it, and Lord Almighty, how I am thankful!!  I cut my hair shorter than ever before, and loved it.  (From then on, I always encouraged ladies on the fence to just chop it if they felt like it — it would grow back eventually, right?) Coldplay ushered me into a new era of growth.  New friendships.  New path of life.  New major.  New ME.  New new new.  I always listen to “A Rush of Blood to the Head” in fall now.  In fact, I would actually say its difficult for me to listen to it when its warm and sunny.  If someone asked me to put it in, I would make excuses as to why it doesn’t fit, and  then I would put in Jack Johnson.  That album just goes with cold weather.  And fall.  And when I hear it, I remember those days of my sophomore year, all that it entailed.

I got a pre-released burned copy of “X&Y” from my friend Lena before getting on plane to go to Japan for the summer in 2005.  I listened to it alot while laying on a futon, sweating to death in the midst of my first (and I thought, last) Shizuoka summer.  That summer was hard for me.  I was in love with a man whom I thought could care less for my affections.  I would have cut off my pinky if he asked.  I wanted so badly to bear his babies, and he seemed to see me the same as the other girls.  I cried a lot.  I ended up asking God to tell me whether we would get married or not, because it seemed silly to wait for a man on such information when I could be privy to the thoughts of God.  Eventually He told me, after the summer was over.  That seems strange when I remember that it was also the summer when I was wondering deeply if God was really real — I mean actually asking that question in my heart.  We studied Galatians as a team, and I remember thinking how fortunate Paul was to have had such a deep experience with Jesus, to have that to cling to when he was in dark moments of wondering.  I started asking God for a moment like that, something that would make me believe He was really real, something I could use to fight doubts and lies when they came.  I spent a lot of time in the Psalms, and more time crying.  He eventually told me that faith was sort of the point of my whole relationship with Him.  I remember thinking, “Ooooohhhhhhh…yeah.”  From that point on, I stopped asking for a sign and entered a new place with Jesus.  Those were really sweet days.  I think of all that when I hear “X&Y”.  Its a deep album for me, for deep thinking times.  I don’t play it whilst making cookies or tickling Jones.  In fact, I don’t play it much at all.  Its on sabbatical.

“Viva la Vida” came out after we’d been living in Shizuoka for four or five months.  The really rough time was over, but it was still the first year.  I was still heavy with culture shock and trying to figure out Japan and whether or not I liked it.  I remember a particular moment of listening to the acoustic version of “Lovers in Japan” (how appropriate) while driving to McDs for a little alone time one morning.  It was sunny and I could see the mountains behind the buildings of Shizuoka.  I felt happy.  Really happy to be in Japan.  I wrote in my journal that morning that it was the first time I felt thankful in my heart to be where I was, without all of the missing and all of the self-pity and all of the sadness.  I love that song now.  I love the whole album, more than any of the others.  Its one I can listen to in any season, in any weather, in any mood, and it reminds me of my first year here — the biggest transition of my life, next to motherhood, and all the things God taught me and brought me through.  So much healing has happened since I moved here, almost enough for me to recommend moving overseas as a (seriously twisted) therapy program.  But don’t do it unless He tells you to.

Wow.  Coldplay.  What moments of my life wouldn’t have a soundtrack if you didn’t exist?  What moments would’ve never occurred?  I am a believer in the fact that all art has spiritual purpose, whether the artist created it with intentions of praising God or not.  There are whispers of Him in all the artistic endeavors of the world, for He created us to be mini-creators.  There have been few bands whose music has spoken to me more than Coldplay.

But there are a few. 

More to come..

lazy day.

Today has been nice.  And lazy.  Bryan and I stayed in bed a little longer than usual.  Jones woke up wanting to read and showed me a picture of a sad hippo. (”i-po saaaaa.”)  He carried it around all morning.  Jones enjoyed some alone time in his room, listening to his favorite CD.  He puttered around,  dumped out all his toys, and eventually found one he wanted to play with.  I took that opportunity to put the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, check some email, and read a little.

After lunch, we watched Elmo together and he went down for a nap.  I thought briefly about ‘doing something’ and decided to take a nap too.  (Gotta relish these ‘only one kid’ days while I can!)  It was heavenly.  I woke up an hour later to thunderclaps and a rainstorm.  Went around and closed all the windows.  Went back to bed to listen to the rain.

When J woke up, we played in his room for a while.  Recently, he likes to pretend he’s a baby and have me burp him.  (That should be interesting once the real baby arrives!)  I built a fort that he played in for one minute.  Seriously.  Then we made some popcorn.  He is currently watching a movie, with his popcorn bowl and apple juice.  I am blogging and starting a little dinner prep.  We are having oat bran banana pancakes (AWESOME) with yogurt and fruit, scrambled eggs, and little breakfast weinies.  I love breakfast-for-dinner.

Good times.  Good times had by all.