When Decapitation Is Sweet

I know it sounds greusome, but read to the end, and you'll understand. I promise!

Often amid the stress and confusion of being in a foreign country, I have shining moments of pure, golden joy—moments when I’m in some sort of time warp where my kids are all little again and I have them all to myself. I know it sounds trite, but back home I often felt the sands of time slipping through my fingers as I grasped at their fleeting childhood. And I felt guilty, constantly doing important things, being pulled a million different directions, when really I just wanted to curl up to a book with them.

But here, it’s different. And not something I think I can sustain—unless of course we move to some sort of compound where we are completely cut off from civilization. Since that’s not happening any time soon, I’ll cherish this time like hot cider on a rainy, autumn day. Here are a few of my favorite moments so far:

The day we did magnet science at home. The older kids “buried” the treasure, and Elyse and Kian got to “hunt” for it.

"Wynner” sleeping everywhere, especially in the Baby Bjorn, right up close to my heart.

Evie and Elyse playing pretend for hours! This day I wanted the girls to sweep up the sand from the patio. Elyse whined and begged me not to make her do it. I pulled Evie aside and asked her to tell Elyse that they were playing a game where their evil stepmother was making them clean. As you can see, it worked like a charm! If Elyse will work like that for her evil stepmother, why doesn’t she do that for me??

The day that we built a tent in the back yard. The older boys really built most of it, and the littles did the “BYU carpet.”

Kiko-man’s joker face! (Yes, that is nutella all over it—another one of my loves.) We were sitting in the car the other day and Grandpa Brad started telling jokes. Kian cried out, “Why did Lightning McQueen cross the road?” Me: “Why, Kian?” “Because he can drive!!!” Roaring peels of laughter that look just like that!

Little Wynne’s nursing feet.

The magic of play. The girls played Pollies all morning with Kian watching/playing along with his cars. Aiden thought it was so cute that he prepared a plate of apples cut in tiny pieces for the Pollies to “eat.” What a guy! (He posed for me right after serving the kids.)

Kian getting himself ready for church.

Making thumbprint cookies in our “All about Me” unit.

Watching the kids create! This is a replica of Charles Bridge for our “Prague unit.”

Not bad, eh?

The discussions I’ve had with Coulson, Aiden, and Evie. One I particularly enjoyed was about Jewish children in World War II, and how in one Czechoslovakian Ghetto, children were secretly taught to let art be their outlet. They were taught to think about freedom, and to draw what made them feel free. Coulson, Aiden and Evie were deeply touched, and had keen insights. And then I watched them create artwork of their own about what freedom meant to them. For Coulson, it was hiking in the mountains; Aiden, it was a hand holding a pencil to a blank piece of paper, and Evie, it was a home with a kitchen and a beautiful yard—each was unique to their personalities, and beautiful. I didn’t include them, because I haven’t gotten their permission.

Before we left, we were on quite a musical kick. Now, every time it rains, we all sing, “Singin’ in the rain. I’m singin’ in the rain. What a glorious feelin’ I’m happy again.” And it rains enough here, that we “get” to hear the song often.

And finally, Evie, Kian, Elyse and I were making dinosaur dioramas one afternoon, and Elyse had worked so hard at coloring each little lizard giant before it came time to cut them out. They were so tiny for even my hands, let alone her small kindergarten ones. She had been hard at work for at least 30 minutes, and kept telling me she couldn’t do it. I kept encouraging her, telling her that she could. Finally, after one particular cut, she threw down the scissors and paper, stood up with her hands in the air and yelled, “That’s it!” And just when I was about to reason with her and get after her for not being safe with her scissors, she ran up the stairs yelling, “I just cut Pteranadon’s head off!” In Ecclesiastes we read that "there is a time to keep silence, and a time to speak." So, I silently died laughing, and took this little picture. (I didn’t ask for permission.) We haven’t gotten the dioramas out since.

"Home Is Where Your Mom Bakes Chocolate Chip Cookies"

How to Cope with Homesick Kids.

All things considered, our kids have been champions (as Liz would say) about this move half-way across the world. It wasn't like they were leaving nothing behind. They loved their school, their church, their neighborhood, their sports; they tolerated their music classes; and most importantly, they loved hanging out with their friends. Aiden in particular hated to leave Ben--our neighbor in his class at school and just a good buddy. I was not thrilled about tearing him away from his best friend, but knew we needed to do what was best for the family. Aiden understood, but cried so hard. It broke my heart.

In my attempt to comfort him, I told Aiden that he didn't need to worry. Home would be wherever his mom baked chocolate chip cookies. --At least I got a smile. When we arrived, amidst all the unpacking, organizing, and general settling in, I never forgot the promise I made to my boy. And I was anxious to get baking supplies, so I could really give everyone a touch of "home."

Our first grocery shopping experience was an adventure all by itself. Liz and I spent three hours staring at food labels, squeezing and smelling packages, trying to figure out what was what, and how I would feed our family. After much work, I was able to secure some potent, fabulous vanilla, some finely-ground soft flour, and extra crystally sugar. I was unsuccessful in finding baking soda, chocolate chips, and brown sugar. Making Prague "home" was sure to be harder than I imagined. After some reading, asking and store hunting some more, I was able to secure the "sodium bicarbonate"--still no chocolate chips or brown sugar; however, a girl's gotta what a girl's gotta do! So, I improvised.

I sent the boys all by themselves to "D & L," our little neighborhood potraviny to secure some Milka chocolate--the most delicious deliciousness that you have ever experienced! (Not that I've tried some every day since we've been here, though. ;-) The boys had to use their new Czech crowns and their only Czech word at the time, "Djakui" (thank you). They secured the goods and even survived the man standing outside his house with no pants on. And luckily, they accidentally got "extra cacao." The combination of the light, crystally sugar, the vanilla, and the dark chocolate was nothing but divine! So while it wasn't like Mom's cookies at home, no one complained!

Today I sent the boys back to the potraviny for extra cacao chocolate so I can try to repeat that happy mistake tomorrow. I guess it just goes to show that change can be good--even when it comes to "home."