Our school adventure is about to begin

There seem to be 2 schools of thought when it comes to schooling young children. OK, there are probably a lot more than 2, but for the purposes of this blog, let's just go with these:

1. "The earlier the better". Start as early as possible and throw as much information at your child as you possibly can. They are little sponges at this age and you have to take advantage of it.
2. "Better late than early". Especially with boys. When young, yes they are sponges, but they are also kids and need the freedom to be fidgety, silly little piles of energy.

I have generally found myself to be in the second camp. Not that I am opposed to teaching my kids stuff. Quite the contrary. I just feel it is easier (for them and me!) to do this as a part of living life instead of trying to get them to sit down, pay attention and learn stuff. I am the mom at the grocery store who hands my daughter different pieces of produces and talks about what shapes, colors and textures they have. And what they are called, of course!

Now, for those of you who know us in real life will undoubtedly point out, we did decide to put "A" in Belgium preschool last fall. However, this had nothing whatsoever to do with academics. In Belgium, preschool is mostly one big, social art class with gym once a week. Yes, he's learned how to hold a crayon/pencil and how to follow directions a bit better, but those are just happy side-effects. Our purpose for enrolling him had to do with his begging to have more play time with kids his own age. This was something that was very difficult when we first arrived and this seemed to be the easiest solution. We also thought it would be good for him to learn some French. OK, so that's a little academic... Anyway, this was never "Plan A".

The plan was that we were going to wait for this coming fall to begin a gentle version of American preschool at home. He is still going to attend Belgium preschool for one more year, but we wanted to begin the gentle transition to what the true "Plan A" is: homeschooling full-time.

"T" and I decided to homeschool our children in the first years of our marriage. There were a lot of reasons that would take up WAY too much room in this already long blog. But after nearly 13 years of knowing it was going to happen, I expected to spend the next couple of months ironing out what exactly we would do and planning on how to introduce things as gently as possible so as not to "spook" him about schooling with mom.

Enter "Plan B", aka my son. He is BEGGING for me to start teaching him things. Not just casual observational talks like we normally have. He wants to learn how to read. He wants to learn how to write. "Mom, I want YOU to teach me!".

So, I have spent the last few days doing what I had planned to spend the next couple of months doing. My brain is fried, but I did it. I ordered everything this morning (from Sonlight, in case anyone is interested). I can breathe for a few weeks. Then everything will arrive and the grand planning of it all will begin. I hope to start the first couple of weeks in June.

Whew! I need a nap!

Oh, and you know what this means... future homeschool posts! You have been warned!

My Rainbow

Ok, so I had great plans of writing an amazing blog about my family's visit last month. It was going to be awesome! You were going to be blown away!

But, couldn't write it right away. I needed to "decompress" a little bit first. And now it's been long enough that I have had time to think about everything. And the awesome blog is no more. Instead you will get this:

First of all, the visit with my family was amazing. I cannot possibly convey what it meant to see the people closest to me come through the door at the airport. My family and I have a very close bond and it was delightful to introduce them to my new life here in Belgium. The weeks that they were here flew by and, all too soon, it was time for them to go.

Here is the thing that stands out to me, though. After dropping them off at the airport and returning home, I was very out of sorts. Not quite a complete mess yet, but well on my way. "T" and I got into an argument over who was going to go to market to get some items to go with dinner. My mood made it an argument. I lost. Did I mention it was POURING RAIN? Yes. My mood was not helped.

Just as I was returning home, the rain stopped and the sky cleared. Immediately. It was startling. Attention getting.

And there it was: a full rainbow. Complete. Beautiful.

A loving message from my Heavenly Father. In my heart, I could hear that still small voice whisper, "I'm still here. I didn't leave."

I had just put my earthly father (and mother) on a plane. They were gone. But my Heavenly Father was still with me. He always will be.

And that made all the difference.

Thanksgiving in Belgium

Well, we made it through our first holiday abroad. It was fun, a little unexpected, and different. But all in all, I would mostly say it was a great day.

We had originally been invited to go to a friend’s house in Brussels, but that fell through. So, since it was going to be “just us” for Thanksgiving, we went to the commissary and loaded up on all the “Turkey-Day” essentials. This was the very first time that "T" and I attempted to cook a traditional Thanksgiving feast all by ourselves. The menu was complicated a bit by our Belgian kitchen. We have a VERY small oven. Most of my American pans are too big for it and you can only cook one thing at a time. So we had to get a little creative. Here’s what we did:

• Turkey cooked on the grill (a turkey breast on the rib cage since it was just our family)
• Potatoes cooked in the oven
• Green beans cooked on the stovetop
• Stuffing made in the microwave (it was just StoveTop Stuffing so this was no big deal)
• Raspberry Gelatin Dessert made in the refrigerator (of course)

The next morning after taking Buddy to preschool (yes, he had school - Thanksgiving is an American holiday and he goes to a Belgian preschool) we had a leisurely breakfast and then "T" entertained Little Miss with his guitar. She really loves music and thought that this was a lot of fun!

At noon, Buddy got picked up from school and then the visiting began. We spent most of the day on the phone or on video chat with someone in the States. It was fun to check in with everyone and to share the holiday in a very tangible way.

After putting the kids down for a nap/quiet time, it was time to begin cooking. After what seemed like 15 minutes (but was actually the rest of the afternoon) it was time to sit down and enjoy our first Belgium Thanksgiving. We took turns saying what we were thankful for and explained to Andrew the history of the holiday. Then we got to dig in. Everything turned out wonderfully. "T's" grilled turkey was wonderful and the 2 new recipes I tried ( the potatoes and the green beans) were a big hit. Little Miss, true to her nature, loved the stuffing. What did we expect - it is bread after all!

By the end of the evening, I was horse from talking all day (on the phone and to my family) and my feet were killing me from being on them all day. BUT, I was very happy. And thankful. Earlier in the day after dropping off Buddy for preschool, I ran into one of the women in PWOC (Protestant Women of the Chapel). She has 3 little boys and her husband is down-range in Iraq. After talking with her, I realized how truly lucky we were to be celebrating together as a family. Yes, we were away from our extended family, but we ended up talking with them all day on the phone. But "T" was here with us, not somewhere unknown and dangerous. I am so thankful that we were able to celebrate Thanksgiving together as a family. I hope you were with those you loved as well.

Christmas Traditions

Here in Belgium, it is traditional for children to celebrate St Nicholas on December 6. The tradition goes that St Nicholas keeps a record to see if the children have obeyed their parents, were nice to their siblings, and were generally “good” throughout the previous year. On St Nicholas Eve (December 5) children put their shoes or a small basket near the hearth or beside the door with carrots, turnips, and a sugar lump for the saint’s horse and a glass of wine for St Nicholas (we are in Europe, after all). In the morning the offerings have been eaten up and replaced with chocolates, cookies, fruit, and small toys. Traditionally, no names are put on the gifts – they are meant to be shared by all the children in the household.

The idea of celebrating something “Santa-ish” on December 6 so that we can focus on Christ’s birth on Christmas is very appealing to me. Also, the idea of reinforcing sharing during a season ripe with a “wonder what I’m gonna get?” mentality seems worth considering.

The thing is, our family is trying to come up with some Christmas traditions of our own this year. Always before, we would make the trek back to Iowa to celebrate with both sides of our family. Since everyone lives minutes apart, it was enough of a task to make sure we got to each side’s festivities in turn and were equitable with our time. Since we were never “on our own” for Christmas, our traditions were our family’s traditions.

Now we are thousands of miles away and that trek to Iowa just isn’t possible this year. So, we are trying to come up with something that will make our Christmas time special. Something that our kids can look back on someday and say, “we always do _______ at Christmas!”. I have no idea yet what that blank spot will be, but we are working on it.

It is a little crazy to think that "T" and I have been married over 12 years and this is the first time we have had to think about this. But this is the first time we have been unable to get back to our families, so... now is the time.

Will we have a breakfast smorgasbord like my family or will we have a muti-soup lunch theme like "T's" family? I don’t know. Since the kids are so little, I think we will have a “no presents out until Christmas morning” thing - just to make sure nothing gets unwrapped early. Everything else is still up for grabs.

Whatever we come up with, I can only hope that years from now our kids appreciate our traditions as much as "T" and I have savored the one’s our parents gave to us.

Remembering the American Soldier

Today is Veteran’s Day. To commemorate the day, we traveled to Ardennes American Cemetery in Neuville-en-Condroz, Belgium. This is a World War II cemetery where over 5,000 soldiers who died at the Battle of the Bulge have been laid to rest. It isn’t the biggest cemetery for American soldiers in Europe, but it was a first for me.

Since most places had their official ceremonies marking Veteran’s Day over the weekend, we were the only people there during our visit. That really added to the solemnness of the occasion. It was also very cold today and that somehow added to the experience as well.

The thing that really got to me were all of the different states that were represented. Indiana, Washington, Iowa, North Dakota, Rhode Island, Missouri, Wisconsin, Tennessee... There were so many that I did see and so many more that I didn’t. Now, I’m sure you are wondering why on Earth this would be the thing that would affect me. Let me explain.

Living the life of an American living in America, you generally see yourself as an “Iowan”, or a “Texan” or whatever. Sure we’re all from the same country but... well, we’re “Iowans” or “Texans” or whatever.

Living the life of an American living overseas has given me a little different take on this. When people ask where I’m from, the first thing they are looking for is what country, not what state, I am from. Here I am an American first.

So as I walked amongst all of those crosses today, it was almost startling to me to see the distinction made as to which state they were from. They were American men, fighting for America. The fact that they came together from all over our nation and united in that effort is inspiring. The fact that it still happens today continues to inspire me.

When we are on SHAPE, there are a lot of different nations and their soldiers represented. It is comforting to me, to be able to look around and see an American soldier walking down the sidewalk or going into the store. I don’t really care what part of the country he is from. He is an American and he is a soldier and he is over here to protect my freedom. He is a hero to me.

Mom, did we get a cow?

So, I had no idea that we were missing out on exciting opportunities like, oh I don’t know, having a cow show up in our backyard one morning. We have cows that reside in the pasture right next to our yard, so when "A" said, “Mom, I see a cow out there!” I barely acknowledged it. When he repeated himself, I acknowledge him and reminded him that cows have been “out there” since we arrived in at our Belgium house. He became insistent that I take a look and, in the interest of eating my breakfast in peace, I looked. “Buddy, we have a cow in our yard!”

It appeared that she had broken through the fence somehow and had come to see what we were up to. I didn’t get too worried about it until she came clear up onto our patio. At that point I felt action needed to be taken. After all, cow poo on the patio is not cool. So I grabbed a towel and shooed her back as best I could. After laying down for a bit to rest, she finally moseyed to the back of the property.

After about an hour, "T" came home and surveyed the situation (I had called him during the shooing). He thought there was no need to intervene. That is, until the cow began to make her way back up to the house again. Then he (with a very small amount of help from me) was able to shoo her back over the fence where she belonged.

When we talked with our landlord about this, she informed us that it had happened to them once before. Only the cow that came to visit them had begun calfing on the patio. Yeah, that would have been more education than I wanted to give my children at this point!

In all, it made for an exciting morning. The only problem now it that I am pretty sure Little Miss thought we had gotten her a cow of her own. And now she wants to know where it is. Well, she is just going to have to deal with this loss. I am not ready to have a dog, let alone a cow.

We have officially moved to Belgium

So the move is complete. Our stuff is here (not all unpacked, though). We are here (definitely not adjusted, though). What is it like to move halfway around the world in order to work with US military teens? Well, it’s different. And it’s the same. Let me explain.

It is different. Obviously. New culture (actually 2 new cultures: Belgian and Military). New language (OK, 2 of these too: French and Military). New food. New stores. New driving rules. New, new, new. The newness is at once exciting and exhausting. Of course, it is amazing to be here and seeing all of this. But it can really wear on you to see and experience only new stuff all the time.

It’s also a lot the same. The same husband. The same kids. The same household stuff (mostly). The same laundry. The same, well, “mom life”. It is rather jarring to realize moving so far away didn’t change everything. Only things outside the house. Inside, it is mostly, well, the same. Odd.

As we continue to live and work here, I’m sure my impression of things will evolve. Right now, it boils down to this:

Things are vastly different and things are remarkably the same.