Meggan's Day Off

If you've been reading our email newsletters, you saw last month that we've realized our stress levels have been too high.  We have been overwhelmed by your support through emails - Thank you!

One of the practical things that we're doing to help us in our quest for lower stress is to each have a day off. Ben had started practicing a day off regularly a few months ago, but we both suddenly realized that even when he was off, I wasn't.  My day was basically the same, except that Andy had a playmate when I was cooking when Ben had off.  So, Meggan's Day Off began.  It's typically every Thursday and means no cooking or cleaning for me.  Sure, we still have Andy to take care of, but it is a big improvement.

Ben, you are awesome!  Thank you for making these days possible!

Something that I really miss about life in the US is paper-crafting. While I LOVE using Shutterfly to make digital scrapbooks (thanks to my sister-in-law, Kim, for inspiring me), I still like to make cards, chip-board books, etc with real, hands-on paper and materials.  Too bad that stuff is rather rare (read "ridiculously expensive and hard to get to") in Spain.

Thanks to my lovely parents, their neighbor, Holly (a Stampin' Up rep), and Kim, I now have a bunch of crafting supplies.  Our church in Denver, Bethany Evangelical Free, also sent me some wonderful crafting supplies for Christmas.  Thank you all!

Anyways, on the past two Thursdays, I've been putting my paper-crafting skills to the test in making cards.  Here are a few that I've done.  The lighting isn't great, but oh well.  And as soon as I mail out Rick and Anne Groves' wedding card, I'll post that one up, too.  Can't let them see it here before they open it, can I?

The Omelet

I have been overcooking scrambled eggs for as long as I can remember.  I am always paranoid that they're undercooked, and despite enjoying an egg over-easy every once in a great while, undercooked scrambled eggs really freak me out.

The last full day of Mima (Ben's mom's) visit, however, I woke up and had the thought Today is a good omelet day.  Let me be clear.  I have never made a successful omelet before, so I have no idea what prompted this sudden assurance that I would be able to on Thursday.  But, it worked!

Okay - maybe I know.

A spatula that looks like a scimitar!

It's made by the brand Orca, but I couldn't find a picture of it online.  My mom bought if for me from the Wire Whisk in Appleton, a kitchen-gadgety store.  It's made of flexible plastic and is GREAT for flipping Swedish Pancakes and apparently really helpful when making omelets.

So, make sure there's enough butter or oil so that the eggs won't stick to the pan.

As the eggs heat, skim around the sides with the scimitar spatula.  This helps the omelet get ready to flip.

When the eggs start to bubble and almost all of the liquidy part of the eggs on the top is gone, remove pan from heat and shake it around a bit.  If you've greased the pan enough, the omelet should slide around.

Then...confidence, Atreyu.  Flip it!

It's scary, I know!  Or, you could slide the omelet onto a plate and then flip the plate over onto the skillet.  Or try with the spatula.  But flipping it is fun (here I am flipping a Swedish pancake on New Year's Day...yes, in pajamas).

Once flipped, add ham or cheese or whatever to one side, then fold the other side over.  Ta-Da!  You're an omelet chef.

Blessed to have a Visitor

It's Friday afternoon.  The house seems rather quiet after taking Mima (the name our oldest niece, Emily gave Carol, my mother-in-law, several years ago) to the airport this morning.

Having visitors while living in Spain is so great.  We get to share our lives with people: show them around the neighborhood, introduce them to Spanish food (well...the few Spanish foods that we eat), take them to some cool parts of Madrid, and introduce them to our small group of friends here.  We do life together.  And we usually spend a lot of time playing games together, too.  (Unfortunately, we have concluded after this visit that Bohnanza (the Bean Game) requires a minimum of 4 players to be interesting.)  Ben and I even got to go on a date for the first time since...oh boy...when did Harry Potter 7 part 2 come to theaters in Madrid?

The tough thing about visitors is that the visit inevitably ends.  It doesn't matter how long or short the time period; at some point, it's over.  Life goes back to normal within a few days, but that first day (or days) after they leave, things are in limbo.  The airport always does this to me.  I'm so close to home when I'm there, waiting for Mima while she checks in near a sign that says New York on it.  I could get on plane and within hours could cross an entire ocean and re-enter the country that I know, the culture that I understand through and through, the language that I can articulate freely.  I could hug the family members that I love and enjoy the deliciousness of Chipotle (okay, burritos are not really THAT important).

I have to be careful sometimes when I think about life in the United States.  If I lived there, I would still have days when I wanted to pull my hair out because of Andy's tantrums.  Well, actually he pulls my hair out, so I'll have to find a new metaphor for frustration.  That's been one of the advantages of accidentally getting my hair cut really short several weeks ago - there's less for him to grab onto!  I digress.  If I lived in the US, I'd still have lonely moments, moments when I couldn't just go hang out with friends and family, moments when I'd be overwhelmed with cooking or laundry.  Moments when I'd feel disconnected with the Lord.  I'd miss taking ballet for 5 hours a week, because that's just not realistic when you have a toddler.  I'd still be stressing about enrolling Andy in pre-school or not in the fall.

So, living overseas doesn't really change a lot of my day to day wear-me-out factors.  But, saying goodbye to someone at the airport without really knowing when you'll see them face to face (not on Skype, but thank you, Lord, for Skype) again is tough.  It's the other side of having visitors.  It's great to have them, but it's always a short-term thing.  Granted, in our little apartment, I might kick out even the best visitor after a certain point.

Longing for reunion, for no more goodbyes is a sign that we long for eternity with the Lord.  I find comfort in knowing that one day that reunion will take place forever.  No more airport goodbyes.  Or a lot of other much more painful goodbyes where Skype can't reach the person you love.  Those goodbyes will come one day, regardless if I live in Spain or the US.  The good news...the ONLY news I have to hold onto in those sad moments is that the Lord Jesus will return.  He longs to return.  Do I dare say that he longs to be united with us as much as he longed to be reunited with the Father while he was on Earth?  That's a very powerful thought.

So, in light of that, I'm trying to look at having visitors as a little taste of that reunion.  The goodbye will come, certainly, but the blessing of a visitor will outweigh the bitterness of that goodbye...until all is overshadowed (in a good sense) by the ultimate reunion at the Lord's return.

Rotary Madrid

Thanks to my adventurous mother, I enjoyed a new cultural experience today here in Spain: a Rotary International club meeting. Mom is a fairly new member of Rotary, and there's an open invitation for Rotary members from all around the world to drop in on a club meeting wherever they happen to be. So, she did all the legwork & found a group that meets for lunch every Tuesday at the Palace Hotel (a rather nice establishment). She took me along as her buddy/translator.

We were mildly underdressed for the occasion (I without a tie or jacket, Mom in her nicer vacation attire), but no one made us feel the lesser for it. I was probably the youngest person in the room by about fifteen years. I would guess about half of the 30-40 club members present spoke fluent English, including two Americans who had each spent half their lives in Spain (one man half of his 86 years, another woman half of her 50). The elder American gentleman lost his wife just last week; he was present at the meeting particularly because he needed a change of scenery. We sat between a Swiss gentleman who spent a generation as the CEO of a cosmetics company and a Spaniard who works as a headhunter. There were folks from a wide variety of career fields, as is the Rotary way, and generally speaking two generations present (the "white-haired" folks and those in the 45-50 range brought in to reinvigorate the group, as our headhunter friend explained).

The food and beverage were all delicious. The main presentation of the day focused on building an elite Spanish university. Based on global university rankings, the best university in Spain only ranks as #150 worldwide. Our resident expert (a physicist-turned-educational researcher who himself has spent time at Stanford, Berkeley, and Princeton) focused on two important traits for building such a university: independence from political oversight, and a global faculty and student body (which for him would require abandoning the regional languages). He also talked about the importance of philanthropy and independence between campuses. With a number of professors in the club, a heated conversation ensued in the Q&A time, so Mom and I got to witness the Spanish passion in full swing. It was a lot of fun. We spent part of our metro ride home talking about whether the eliteness of a university was its most important trait, plus the general equality of undergraduate education from one institution to the next, even in the hallowed halls of the upper-tier schools.

On our way out of the hotel, we decided not to pay 1,400 € for a purse. We'd rather take our pocket change elsewhere, thank you.

Recovery, thankfulness, and reflection.

Last week was a doozy!  I had a few moments of not feeling well last Sunday, but the real jump-start to our family illness was Andy throwing up in his highchair during lunch on Tuesday.  I was really grateful that the "my baby needs me more than this grosses me out" ability kicked in as I gave Andy a bath, started laundry, and cleaned up the highchair.

The next few days involved only one more vomit incident (poor Andy...poor crib this time), lots of body aches, and lots of toilet flushing.  But, here we are, trying to get back into the swing of things, trying to tell the fatigue (and other lingering effects) to hop on the next train out of town, or at least out of our apartment.

Being sick will forever remind me of that horrible time last year when Ben was really sick, and we felt completely helpless as newcomers and foreigners in Madrid.  This year wasn't nearly as serious, and we were able to get ourselves to the doctor (in our own car even!) without involving an ER visit.

Life in another country is all about celebrating the little things sometimes.  This is one of those times.  I am trying to be a person of thankfulness and a person of prayer.  Sometimes by my own power, sometimes by relying on the Holy Spirit as my true power source.  But, today, Father, I pause to say thank you for taking us through a week of illness and ask for a full restoration of health for the sake of your glory.
And now I'd better get Andy some more cereal.  

Saving money - BOOM!

With a year under our belts, we're finally at the place where we know how to save money on general expenses. When we first arrived, we went with whatever bank, utility company, or phone provider was easiest/recommended without doing any of our own research. Then, when we bought a car in November, we did the research & saved a small fortune annually (almost 1,000 €) on the best insurance plan for our situation. Today I just moved our banking to a different bank, because the old bank was charging us exorbitant fees, whereas the new account has no fees or commissions on anything. This will probably save another 150 € per year or more. It's a good feeling to be able to navigate the culture well enough to make these decisions now. Also, since car insurance and banking fees officially came from the "work funds" portion of our budget, we've just gained about 100 € per month that we can spend on the youth rather than giving it to "the man."

Up next, our utilities and cell phone service providers... maybe. :)

2 years of Parenthood

Two years already?  I (Meggan) was showing my friend, Candela, the Shutterfly book of Andy's first year today as we were celebrating Andy's 2nd birthday.  I have definitely had my moments of missing baby Andy (though I still call him that), but the joys of Andy growing and learning really are very joyful. He occasionally hugs, he frequently kisses, he spells his name out loud, has his favorite little movies...  He also is obsessed with the metro and insists upon going there every time we leave the house, doesn't really like being put in his stroller when I have to go grocery shopping, and can flail like nobody's business when he's upset.  Parenthood is quite the roller-coaster.

As a wise friend told me, having small children simplifies your life.  I get Andy dressed, fed, cleaned up, and to bed day after day.  We go the grocery store, the park...everywhere together.  Sometimes it's monotony, sometimes it's wonderfully peaceful, sometimes it makes me stir-crazy.  I'm trying to learn to be content every day, trying to take better care of myself, trying to be more patient, trying to enjoy each moment with Andy without being overly sentimental.  I'm also trying to get Andy to stop hitting his head on things (including my face) when he's angry.  There's a lot of trying going on, even in the midst of a rather simple life.

Parenthood is life-changing.  There are days when I really miss being a student at UW and at Denver Seminary.  Almost every day I miss ballet classes in Littleton.  A lot of who I was seems very far away sometimes.  I know that living in another country has a lot to do with that, too.  What I know for sure, however, is that my life is much richer being a parent.  I am very grateful for the gift and challenge of having Andy.  

A gift of a weekend

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights. (James 1:17a, NIV)

Last night was our first night of Fusión 47, our youth group at La Elipa Church. We had over 20 youth gathered, including friends of our regulars, and it was a good and fulfilling afternoon together. I got the opportunity to share about why we exist as a group, and we talked about our plans for the year to come. We also played a relaxed game of ultimate frisbee in the park with another teen, Jorge, who we met there. Jorge has Downs Syndrome, and as is so often the case with people with Downs, his spirit blessed us, and I hope our acceptance blessed his mom and grandma. (When he showed up with his grandma, she seemed disappointed that we were in the spot that was his routine play spot. Glad for the opportunity to turn the disappointment upside down!)

In the midst of a busy week, it just made sense to take the day off today... and it's been a great day. We really had a great Meggan and Ben day as a couple; we connected well together throughout the day. It's amazing how clean we can get the house when we're working together! (Translation: it's amazing how clean Meggan can get the house when she has a little help from me.) We had multiple conversations about stuff deeper than just the urgent or current stuff in our lives. We Skyped with Meggan's parents after over a week w/o chatting (they had been on vacation), and we also watched a sermon online that got us talking and processing about our present & future on a healthy level.

It certainly helps that Andrew has been incredible all day; he was in a good mood all morning, even after getting a big g-DONK on his forehead. (He likes to walk around with his eyes closed sometimes, and that can be dangerous, as you might imagine.) He ate well at lunch and dinner, and he took a 3.5-hour nap, which certainly doesn't hurt in the mood department. We Skyped with Mima, and for twenty minutes during our conversation after his bath, he was just shutting himself in Mommy and Daddy's closet and popping back out. When he was done, he picked up the milk cup Mommy had brought back for him and walked to the rocking chair in his room to tell us he was ready for his bedtime routine. That was a pretty incredible first to witness as a parent. What a boy!

Our friend Hannah also arrived today. She'll be living in Madrid this year, working at a Spanish public elementary school not too far from us as an English teacher. It's a blessing to serve as a welcoming party, and it certainly doesn't hurt when one's guest is a highly agreeable person.

Pork stir fry for lunch; spaghetti for dinner; apple crisp for dessert, with a Dutch beer and a fútbol match before bed. Tomorrow morning I'll eat breakfast w/ the youth before church, and it'll be another good day. Giving thanks profundamente.

(And to think, when I first wrote this post, I didn't even remember that I woke up this morning to find out the Brewers had clinched the division. Seriously, where are my priorities?)

Hillsong in Madrid

On Saturday, September 10, Hillsong came to Madrid for a one-night concert. One of the students in our youth group said, "hey, let's go!" - so ten of us went and had a great time. (Note: ANYTIME a student takes the initiative to plan an event that involves spiritual content, you jump on board!!!)



There were a handful of songs where the crowd - surprisingly large for an evangelical crowd in Spain - sang their guts out, in Spanish, while the singers just backed off from the mics and listened to the people. I was overcome with the sense of the artist's joy they must have experienced, hearing people sing the art they had written and created, in a language they could not understand, in worship of the God they share and together desire to see glorified. Powerful stuff.

Reflections from Newark

As detailed in the previous post, we have been in the U.S. for the last two weeks. This was our first visit back since moving to Spain nine months ago. What follows is a stream-of-consciousness journal entry of reverse culture shock from our layover in Newark when we first entered the country.

Friday, July 29
    Right away in the C concourse there's a tchotchke store called "AMERICA." Big eagle over the store sign, everything red-white-n-blue... wow. Ya no estamos en España (we're not in Spain anymore). Besides the fact that it's American stuff rather than Spanish stuff, it's that Spain is not a very patriotic country. You would be hard-pressed to find a store like that in a Spanish airport.
    It was strange to me to hear people cheer when the captain welcomed everyone to the "good old U.S.A." It was the cheer of folks glad to be home, and it was strange not to feel like one of them - this is our home in one sense, but the home where we put up our feet & relax is an apartment in Madrid. It's not necessarily that I feel more at him in Spain than in the U.S., but the coming-home place for us as a family of three is our piso, our neighbors, our grocery store, our swimming pool, and our regular routine.
    I spent a good chunk of the flight reading a couple chapters of Meggan's driver's ed textbook (I should sign up soon after we get back). Something I noticed in getting off the plane is that I understand every word on any sign - "it is advisable to maintain custody..." etc. Paragraphs like that in the driver's ed manual, I get the gist of it 98% of the time, but I'm not familiar w/ every word. Or take a restaurant name here - "Cheeburger Cheeburger" - I know instinctively that "cheeburger" is not a real word, but rather a shortened version of "cheeseburger" that one might say in a silly voice when one is particularly in the mood for said food item. In Spanish w/ something similar, I would look, think, ponder, maybe eventually figure it out (whether in seconds or in ten months), then feel particularly accomplished/proud for such a feat. (Example: there is a cell phone service provider in Spain called "yoigo," and months after our arrival, Meggan said, "hey, 'yoigo' is short for 'yo oigo' [meaning 'I hear']." Me: "ohhh...")
    Just look at that paragraph! I just rolled that off in English, and it felt so... fluent. Uff. Natural. Nuanced. It's very hard yet for me to do nuance in Spanish.
    Most chatter is in English, and that sounds weird (Sheryl warned us about this). Our language of common courtesy with strangers is English (this is a context that has only existed in Spanish for us for nine months, so that was a genuine adjustment). Airport personnel have been very kind.

Surprisingly enough, that was about the end of the reverse culture shock for me. Once we got into the A concourse and found out our next flight might be delayed, we entered into mildly-stressed-American-traveler mode. When we got to Wisconsin, even though we were seeing things that were abnormal for our recent experience, they looked like they "belonged" here (big SUVs, orange cones, cornfields, outlet malls, etc.). The remaining big "wow" moment for me the rest of the trip came when we were on our way to a family gathering. Our caravan with John was to converge in Princeton, Wisconsin, and he got there first. He called us with the most convenient meeting spot: "I'll be in the church parking lot with the signs for the gun show." A gun show in a church parking lot. Boy, are we ever back in rural America. :-)