Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 10-13

Well, let's just breeze through the past month, shall we?

Way back in November, two notable events fell on the same day -- American Thanksgiving and the last day of Eric's philosophy class.

On Thanksgiving, I was walking toward the post office when I noticed a lady walk by, her arms full of bright-orange flowers that looked like she had ripped them right out of the ground. Sure enough, outside of the post office, a worker was clearing the flower beds in preparation for the next day's expected snow. "Take as many as you can carry," she said. So, I did. And I felt thankful!



I remember our first couple of Thanksgivings in Ukraine, when the thought of my whole family gathered at my aunt's house made me weepy. Now that we're done with language school and living a more-typical life here, I have to admit that the day usually catches me off-guard, and prompts little to no emotional reaction. I suppose this is growth?

The truth is, Thanksgiving and December 25 are just like any other days to everyone around us. Dietrich has school. The stores don't slash prices on turkey or corn, and there are no sweet potatoes to be had. Seminary classes are in session; Eric didn't finish teaching until after our team's Thanksgiving dinner had started. Still, after he wrapped up, we joined the rest of our team for the traditional feast. It was:

1) A good opportunity to notice how much Dietrich and our family have changed in the past year. Last year, I had a long conversation with another mom about the getting-Dietrich-into-preschool process. This year, he's completely accustomed to Ukrainian school life. Last year, he was shy about speaking to the group. This year, he and some other kids sang to the crowd. Last year, he sat on Eric's lap and we had to convince him to take every bite. This year, he sat on his own and ate without (much) complaint. And last year, Dietrich announced that I was pregnant. This year, Lev's on the outside, content to be carried by any willing person.

2) Relatively small. Only one of the people with whom we sat last year was there this year. Some have moved on to other fields. Some are on Home Service. Once again, it hit me that goodbyes are the one constant in missionary life.

3) Tasty! Many times, at big group gatherings, my allergy prevents me from sampling most of the dishes. This time, no less than four people cooked Josie-safe food, so I had my fill of turkey, gravy, rolls, stuffing and desserts -- all things that have to be made with imported grains (or, in the case of the turkey, without stuffing) to ensure no buckwheat contamination. I was so touched by the thoughtfulness of all these dear teammates who kept me in mind as they prepared their dishes.


Dietrich helped me bake cupcakes for Thanksgiving dinner. I just can't keep from photographing this kid when he's covered in chocolate.

Eric ended his philosophy class totally exhausted, but pleasantly surprised that he was able to communicate all that he wanted to say in Russian. However (and he knew this would be the case going in), some of his students considered the study of philosophy to be time wasted on worldly wisdom. Alas, he felt some left the class still holding this view, even though he tries to teach this rather heady subject as practically as possible.

Philosophy class behind him, Eric spent the next week (November 29-December 5, if you're keeping track) preparing for the upcoming Talbot session.

On Monday, we got a box of Christmas cheer from my mom. It was a great box, stuffed with my favorite holiday goodies, and it arrived just at the right moment.

Because, the next day, I sent Dietrich to school in new snow pants. When I picked him up, he was shivering. I feared that I'd bought inferior pants, but it turned out a 103-degree fever was to blame. Poor kid was home sick for another week. This time, we kept the TV-watching to a minimum, plus he discovered VeggieTales (so much shorter and less combative than some of his other favorite movies).

Dietrich was pretty understanding of the fact that I did have some work that I couldn't set aside, as Harvest Heartbeat (the Eurasia-wide newsletter that I put together for SEND) had to be to the printer by Friday. It probably helped that we started Advent that week, so he had something to look forward to each morning.

Ah, Advent. I love a good, long, intentional run-up to Christmas, and yet in past years, I've often found myself scrambling to read the birth narratives at 11 p.m. on December 24, in a last-minute attempt to prepare my soul.

Last year, I bought a huge Advent calendar. It's made of cascading numbered stars with little pockets in them. Here, take a look:



Last year, in addition to stuffing some of the pockets with little toys and treats, I included daily Bible readings. Though he enjoyed the toys and treats, Dietrich was mostly bored during the Bible-reading bits. Especially by the prophetic verses. Seriously. What was I thinking?

This year, I found a Christmas story for children online, then rewrote it to reflect elements of Dietrich's daily life and our family's particular linguistic patterns. We read a paragraph every day. This, coupled with the fact that Dietrich is a year older, has made for much more meaningful anticipation of Jesus' birth.

As an aside, Eric and I are reading a biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, our Dietrich's namesake. That Dietrich's mom refused to use a children's Bible, and would only read to her eight children from the grown-up text. This I cannot fathom, but that Dietrich did turn out awesome.

At the end of the week, we welcomed an overnight guest -- a young man studying at Dallas Theological Seminary who is considering whether to serve here after he graduates. We were impressed because he seemed eager to embrace Ukrainian culture; Dietrich was impressed because he knew the names of all four Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.


I can't recall the exact day, but around this time, we moved Lev out of our room and into Dietrich's (or, as we now try to remember to say, into the boys' room). So, at long last, Dietrich got to climb into Lev's wee former bed.


Meanwhile, Lev practiced his baby yoga. In his attempts to crawl, this silly kid has tried every possible permutation other than moving his hands and knees at the same time. At the moment, when he sees something he MUST HAVE NOW, he does a pushup/lunge combo that gets him across a room with surprising speed.

OK. Let's move on to December 6-12, shall we? Talbot started, so it was back to long days for Eric -- but two more sessions and the first set of Talbot--Kyiv Extension students will earn their master's degrees! Those long days are so worth it.

Four notable family moments from that week:

1) Some friends gave Dietrich the stuffed Nativity set that their kids outgrew. It is the hit of the season. Right now, Baby Jesus is swaddled in yarn ("to keep him warm and to help Mary") and riding a camel. Earlier today, Dietrich watched Baby Jesus while Mary took a nap. And there have been days when everyone -- Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, shepherds, wise men, sheep and camel -- has been afflicted by a throw-up bug.

2) Thursday night, I was all prepared to go to Mom's Night Out. Eric was going to watch the kids; I was going to enjoy grown-up conversation and bacon-wrapped steak. But when I picked Dietrich up from preschool, I was informed about that night's parents' meeting. Well, it's not bacon-wrapped steak, but I actually enjoy the parents' meetings. I don't say much, but I get the chance to listen to some fascinating Russian. No one is simplifying it for my sake. We're not in a church or seminary setting, people are generally upset about something, and no one is pulling any punches. Most of the meeting is about money (how much we need to pony up for this, that and the other thing), and there is negotiation, argument and cajoling aplenty.

3) On Friday night, our special Advent activity was a date with Dietrich. We left Lev in the capable arms of one of the ladies on our team, and gave Dietrich some time with just mom and dad. The stated goal was to buy a present for Lev (mission accomplished), but we were delighted by Dietrich's mature behavior throughout the evening -- and even on through the next few days.

Dietrich seems to have done so well with the transition to becoming a big brother. One of his Thanksgiving tree leaves reads, "I'm thankful that I love Lev," -- and we're thankful, too! But his remarkably calm demeanor when Lev wasn't around was telling. I'm so glad that we got the chance to experience this change in his character; I'm always hoping to understand Dietrich a bit better. Our undivided attention seemed to be balm for his soul -- and we didn't even know he needed balm.

4) We got another surprise package of Christmas cheer! My talented friend Amanda sewed us these ornaments. I can't make anything that isn't edible, but thanks to Amanda, our home is full of handmade heirlooms.



This past week, Talbot continued. We were able to share a meal with the visiting professor, a former SEND missionary in Bulgaria who lived in San Jose for a while and went to the same church as our Northern California pediatrician, who happens to be the brother of Eric's best friend's wife. Small world. I love that we get to share meals with so many interesting people whom we never would have met had we stayed in California.

On Friday, Lev and I went for an evening walk with him in the baby carrier. Despite the wind and cold, he was snuggled up warm against my chest. It was a delightful walk, and I made a mental note to enjoy it, as the weather was sure to shift soon, bringing snow and slippery sidewalks.

That night, we got about six inches of snow. The next morning, I slipped and slided through a trip to buy Dietrich warm slippers and new dance shoes. It seems our days of outdoor babywearing have come to an end. Boo.

Eric is fighting a cold; it's been hanging on for a couple of weeks now. Lev's sick too, and has turned back into royalty with daily saunas.

And I started concentrating on the card-writing, cookie-making and gift-giving bits of Christmas this week. We also got another surprise Christmas package -- this one stuffed with treats from my grandma. She sent Sharpies. I heart Sharpies!

Well, lookie here. I'm feeling all Christmas-spirity, and it's not even 11 p.m. on December 24.

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 9

I forgot to mention in my last post that Eric bought me the most beautiful flowers on Sunday. Some kind of mum, but purple and white striped, with bright-yellow centers. He coupled the mums with yellow roses. I mention the flowers because I really came to appreciate having something beautiful blooming in my kitchen as the week unfolded.

So, Monday dawned and Dietrich was sick. Our basic approach to fevers is this: Wait two days. On the third day, call the doctor. Why? Well, after the third day, we have to have a doctor's note to go back to school anyway, so a doctor will have to be involved. Second, the doctor we usually call always takes a wait-and-see approach, and generally won't come do an examination until the third day anyway. (He does house calls. We love that!)

We started the day by sending daddy off to his first experience teaching philosophy in a modular format. This meant mornings of preparing in Russian and afternoons of teaching (for four straight hours) in Russian. Yep, he was pretty zonked by the end of the week.

The first sick day is always kinda mellow, right? Lots of movies, snuggles, cups of hot tea, stories. I left the house after Eric got back in the evening for a 45-minute grocery run. It was the last time I'd leave the apartment until Saturday.

The second sick day, I borrowed an idea from Andrea Hoglund (of Kremenchuk fame) and we created a thankfulness tree out of an Amazon box and some cardstock. It ended up taking little snippets of time all day to complete. At that point, I was feeling like a pretty good mom. Creative. Compassionate. Yay me. It didn't last.

The third day, we called the doctor. He listened to Dietrich's chest and prescribed antibiotics. I was thankful to have a grown-up visitor at the time the doctor arrived. She held Lev while I helped with Dietrich's exam, and she provided some much-needed adult conversation.

Alas, after the doctor left, I rather gave up on occupying Dietrich, a decision I came to regret. The stories for the Eurasia-wide newsletter that I put together were trickling in and needed to be edited, and keeping Dietrich entertained, hydrated and away from his brother pretty much was consuming my days. So I started letting the little guy watch as many movies as he wanted.

I did get all the stories edited in time to send them along to the woman who back-reads them for me, but at the expense of letting movies take over Dietrich's brain. All he talked about were movies. When he played, he just acted out movie scenes -- especially, it seemed, the more unpleasant ones.

Hey, look, I love me a good movie. Sometimes I even love me a bad movie. In my family, going to a Friday night movie and discussing it afterward was a tradition governed by particular rules (first rule: no mention of the movie until you get into the car). But everything in moderation, right? And we threw moderation right out the window. By Sunday, I'd determined not to let a sick week play out that way again.

It was, however, a good week for figuring out how to keep both kids together but separate. In this case, because of germs, but Lev can get around more and more, so we needed some strategies for keeping him away from brother's carefully constructed towers and train tracks anyway.

We gave the bounce seat another try, and it was a super hit.




And I pulled out the pack-n-play, which I very rarely used with Dietrich. For Lev, it's super -- and will be even better when he stops falling over three minutes after I stick him in there.


By Friday, Dietrich's temperature was just as high as it had been before we started the antibiotics, plus Lev was getting pretty congested. I heard that the doctor was again on our side of town, so I asked him to stop by. He advised staying the course with Dietrich for at least one more day. And then he turned Lev into a king! By which I mean, he prescribed thrice-daily saunas and massages.


King Lev in his sauna.

Saturday, Eric had to teach in the morning (this is part of the modular schedule). But my dear, sweet husband came back after a whole week of speaking and writing and thinking and sometimes arguing in Russian, which is utterly exhausting, and gave me a few hours to get out of the apartment. I feel selfish even typing about it! I chose to do a little Christmas shopping. Those were three very speedy hours.

By Sunday, Dietrich was sufficiently healthy to request the doctor's note that freed him to return to school, and I can't remember anything else! So, I'll leave you with this photo of my own, personal right angle.