Back-on-the-growth-chart baby

At Dietrich's 9-month immunizations, he was at 5 percent on the growth chart. I got a little nervous. Actually, I worried to the point that for about a month, it was all I could focus on. That was a bad month, a month I'd probably still be living in if it weren't for prayer.

After his 12-month immunizations, he wasn't on the growth chart at all. Thankfully, God and I had already dealt with the all-consuming worry, so while his weight was definitely something I thought about, it didn't take over our lives.

We found out yesterday that Dietrich's back to 10 percent on the chart. (And a little over 15 percent on the World Heath Organization chart, which averages breast-feed babies from all over the world, unlike the charts commonly used in the States, which only sample the US population.) And for that, I thank Dannon. Here, they sell an amazingly tasty yogurt called Dannissimo. Second ingredient: cream. For me, it would be dessert. For Dietrich: breakfast and morning snack.


No, Dietrich, don't eat the block. Eat the yogurt.

Repurposed

The last few weeks, briefly: Eric came home. (Yay!) He got sick. (Boo.) Dietrich got sick. (Boo.) Dietrich learned to say "uh-oh," mightily entertaining us by using it in quite random, non-uh-oh-appropriate contexts. (Yay! I mean, "uh-oh!") I got sick. (Boo.) I am sick. (Boo.)

But I finished Harvest Heartbeat before the sick set in. (Yay!) Most of the time, I only focus on the editing and design, but this time around, they asked me to write the Missionary Focus. I said that I'd try, but that our lives have taken on such a nice, ordinary routine that it might be hard to find anything interesting on which to focus. And from that observation sprang this article:

After four years of living in Ukraine, cultural differences rarely surprise us. We’ve found roles to fill at our church, and we’ve settled into a more-or-less normal work schedule.

Eric teaches theology and apologetics courses at Kyiv Theological Seminary and helps to administrate the new Talbot School of Theology — Kyiv Extension master’s degree program. It’s a busy, sometimes-stressful, often-fulfilling job. He writes and receives a lot of e-mails and goes to his fair share of meetings. There are parts of the job (working with students) that he loves. There are parts (see aforementioned e-mails and meetings) that aren’t as fun.

I work two mornings a week at the seminary, producing brochures and other public-relations materials. Our 18-month-old son stays home with a Russian-speaking babysitter. (We consider this his language school.) When I get home, we try to strike a balance between playtime and letting mommy do housework.

Our days feel routine. Husband works, wife works part-time but mostly stays home, baby demands attention. It’s a story that many of our friends in the States could tell.

But occasionally something will remind me that our lives are a bit different. Most recently, an e-mail titled “Fun info about your friends” landed in my in-box. You answer the questions and return the e-mail to the person who sent it to you, giving them insight into your life. Here are some of my answers:

1. What time did you get up this morning? 7:30 a.m. my time. 9:30 p.m. California time. I often think in two (or more!) time zones.

2. Diamonds or pearls? Many people we work with are struggling financially, so I don’t wear either.

3. What is your middle name? Amy. But Ukrainians don’t use a middle name. Instead, they use a patronymic — a form of their father’s name. I’ve had many conversations about why we gave our son — Dietrich Mark — two first names. In Russian, he’s Dietrich Ericovich.

4. What food do you dislike? Sardines, but I’ve learned to eat them with a smile.

5. What kind of car do you drive? Public transportation.

6. Furthest place you are sending this? North America.

7. Favorite saying? “Thanks for the bread and salt.” It means, “Thanks for the hospitality,” but the first time someone said it to me, I was quite confused. I’d served bread, but not salt.

8. What is your shoe size? 38

9. Any new and exciting news you would like to share with us? You can buy coconut milk, tortellini and peanut butter in Kyiv now!


The Oldenburgs: Eric, Josie and Dietrich Mark Ericovich

Missing dad

Eric left Monday night for a SEND leadership conference. He'll return Saturday afternoon. Three hours after he left, we had our first injury accident (a fall with a bitten lip, and lots of blood). Thankfully, that's been our only injury accident. So far.

Though we miss dad, this conference comes at just the right time for Dietrich and me. Eric and I were so busy during the Talbot session that Dietrich needed a week of extra love ... and since I don't cook or clean much when Eric's gone, I have lots of extra time to give the extra love.

But we do miss dad! Dietrich is in the habit of saying "mama" when he's nursing at night. He suckles a little, then he looks right at me and says "maMA." Music to my ears! I can't get enough of those two syllables. But tonight, the poor little guy looked right at me and said, "dada?" Soon, kiddo, soon.

Mea culpa

A while ago, I blogged about Hillary Clinton’s inability to say the new Russian president's name. To avoid being a hypocrite, I think I'm duty-bound to tell this story.

One of the guys who comes to our Friday night small group works at the U.S. Embassy. When President Bush is in town next week, he will speak at a very early morning reception for the embassy workers. (They have to get there at 6 a.m.!) Zhenya is very excited about the opportunity, and wants to arrive as early as possible to get a good seat.

I was asking Zhenya what else Bush is doing on this trip, and he said that Bush also plans to visit Romania, Croatia and Russia, to meet with the president.

Now, a Russian language lesson: Medvedev means "of the bears." It's the "ev" at the end that makes it "of the bears," and not just "a bear."

So, as you may have guessed, I unfortunately replied to Zhenya, "Oh, will he be meeting with Putin, or with a bear?" Zhenya nicely replied, "Maybe both."

Please tell me I'm not the only one

Talbot's two-week session here is under way, which means this is our busiest time of the semester. Last week, we had two guests in from Talbot West — Dr. Dirks, dean of Talbot, and Mike Brady, who works tirelessly to administrate the program from the California side. They were such wonderful and thoughtful guests! For example, Mike showed up to every meal with a new present for Dietrich. We really enjoyed our time with them ... but ...

While I love to welcome guests into our home, I think it makes me a little crazy. I get so, so nervous that I will accidentally food poison someone. Nearly every time we have guests, I ask Eric to smell SOMETHING to make sure it hasn't gone bad. On a normal day, I very rarely do this, but put another place-setting on the table, and all food becomes suspect.

This time was particularly bad. I made a huge pot of potato cream soup, but I let the bacon thaw on the radiator for two hours, so I got nervous about the bacon. I did a little research and determined that YES, the bacon certainly COULD have a hidden, non-smelly, non-slimy bacterial explosion that wouldn't be killed by vigorous boiling. So, I pulled chili out of the freezer instead.

Later in the week, I bought a rotisserie chicken, intending to make chicken pot pie. I stripped off the meat and put it in the fridge, only to freak out 30 minutes later when I opened the fridge and decided it smelled "too strongly" of chicken. We ran out, got another chicken, and enjoyed a yummy pot pie. I left the first chicken in the fridge. Curiously, by the next day, it smelled normal. Perhaps it un-spoiled?

I know the rule is supposed to be "when in doubt, throw it out," but when we have guests, I'm in a constant state of doubt! Am I alone in this? Any advice from you seasoned hostesses?

Don't feed the animals

I'm glad I'm not an animal at the Kyiv Zoo. Check out the yummy stuff they aren't allowed to eat:







No bread, cookies or ice cream? What's the point of existing? The funny/sad thing is that, despite the explicit ban on bread, people show up with whole bags of rolls to throw to the bison. I've never seen anyone toss in a cone, though.

American traditions

I'm a baseball fan, but I'm also a bit of a softie when it comes to public humiliation. So, when a pitcher has given up six runs in the first, there are no outs and the bases are still loaded, it breaks my heart to watch him struggle. "Yank him," I think. "Put him out of his misery."

That's basically how I felt watching the Ohio Clinton-Obama debate on YouTube today. I'm sure Clinton is a smart woman, but I winced over and over as she misspoke, made humorless attempts at humor, whined about how the moderators were treating her, and failed to produce the name of the next Russian president. I pitied her, and I really doubt that Hilary Clinton wants my pity.