Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 20

My cold continued to knock me out, so on Monday I took at three-hour nap with Lev, who also was sick by that point. I woke up feeling so much better, and was able to enjoy the rest of the day with the Teuberts. Sweetest moment: Jenny, the eldest Teubert daughter, also was sick, so she spent the day in her parents' bed. At one point, the three younger kids (her two sisters and Dietrich) joined her in the bed, where they spent a good chunk of time huddled together over Legos.

We left on the Tuesday morning train. Thankfully, we had a coupe this time -- actually, we had beds in two different coupes, but the conductor took one look at our tired, bedraggled, 6-in-the-morning selves and told us to stick together. (She worked it out with the other passengers.)

The trip was fantastic. Everyone went back to sleep until 9, and when we all woke up, Lev crawled around on the bench, we played games at the little table -- we had such a pleasant time that Dietrich chose NOT to watch a movie.

I was supposed to take Lev to get his already VERY overdue six-month vaccinations and a Social Security card on Wednesday, but he woke up sicker than ever, so I canceled both appointments. He should have gotten these shots in early December, but he was sick for several weeks, and then it was the holidays, and then the clinic was out of vaccines for most of January. So, we're quite behind. I'm hoping this won't prevent us from getting the one-year vaccinations done while we're in America in May.

A few other notable events from the week:

1) Our last Christmas box arrived! It was from my brother and sister-in-law, and we opened it "with" them (via Skype). It was packed with yummy treats and three action figures from "Toy Story." Oh, happy Dietrich! For those of you unfamiliar with the movies, Andy is the name of the boy in "Toy Story." I asked Dietrich if he knew any other kids who had so many Toy Story toys, and he replied, "Nope, only Andy!"

You have to respect the marketing genius that is Toy Story. It's a movie about toys. Therefore, every. single. thing. in the movie can be made into a toy and sold. Genius. Thankfully, Dietrich seems content with his Christmas bonanza.

2) I put Lev down for a nap on Saturday. A minute later, it was suspiciously quiet in his room. I peeked in: He had pulled himself up to a standing position in his crib. Then, on Sunday night, he started for-reals crawling! I wasn't too concerned about his soldier lunge, but several people last week commented on the important brain development that accompanies crawling. So, I spent about 15 minutes on Sunday afternoon crawling circles around him on the living room floor. Suddenly, he started to mimic me. He still reverts occasionally to the soldier lunge, but he's learning that the more-typical style is quicker and less exhausting.

3) We put together a newsletter. Did you get it? If not, let me know and I can e-mail it to you.

4) On Sunday afternoon, Bertha the goose gutter invited seven young missionary kids over to her apartment for a story (a fable from her youth), cookies and playdough. Isn't that sweet? And a little bit crazy? I so appreciate her!

5) Two families that we know in the States suffered serious medical emergencies with their children. (Read about one here.) Thankfully, God spared both little boys' lives. Another friend is going through a difficult transition, and we were able to Skype for a while. My parents are organizing my grandfather's memorial service, and I've been able to keep up-to-date with the plans and with how they're handling the loss. I know Skype and Facebook have their disadvantages, but as someone who lives very far away (and in another age wouldn't know about these situations until months after they occurred), I appreciated the ability to immediately pray for these families and to talk with my friend and with my family.

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 19

The week started out slowly. After nearly two weeks of being able to focus on Oldenburg family projects that had stacked up during the fall semester, I finally felt like life was in balance again. I decided to take advantage of this (probably brief) respite by keeping Dietrich (who had had a fever on Sunday) home on Monday and Tuesday, even though he was perfectly healthy both days.


Getting ready for a rare weekday stroll with brother.

Two days home is the max we can skip before we have to get a note from the doctor (even if we're on vacation). So, on Wednesday morning, I bid Dietrich and Eric farewell -- only to have Eric call shortly thereafter to tell me that Dietrich's class was having an optional quarantine for scarlet fever.

My heart quickened. Scarlet fever? Don't people die from this?

I feel I can be forgiven for this reaction, as all I ever knew about scarlet fever, I knew from childhood literature -- Beth March is seriously afflicted in "Little Women" and Mary goes blind from it in the "Little House" series.

But Wikipedia assures me: "Once a major cause of death, it is now effectively treated with antibiotics."

Since Dietrich already had been exposed by playing with the sick girl the week before, and because no other children had fallen ill in the intervening days, we decided to chance it. (I won't leave you in suspense: He never got it, and neither did anyone else in his class.)

This was our first experience with an optional quarantine. We learned that each family can decide whether to send their child to school, but the quarantined class can't mingle with other students. So, they don't go outside to play. Physical education, dance and other afternoon lessons are canceled. And this time, they missed a schoolwide puppet show, too.


"Momma, let's play 'Oh, no, where could Dietrich be?'"


Getting in on the hide-and-seek action.

Things picked up speed later in the week: Eric turned in his grades for his fall-semester philosophy class. Everyone who turned in the work passed, and one student enjoyed the reading so much that he declared himself a "soldier in the army of Moreland."

We also had small group Wednesday night, Lois for dinner Friday, our team's annual Day of Prayer on Saturday -- plus we planned a last-minute trip to visit friends in Sumy.

Hoping to learn from our mistakes, we left really early for the night train to Sumy, and ended up killing an hour at McDonald's. We were accompanied by another teammate, Sarah, who had come to Kyiv for the Day of Prayer. Though we hadn't planned to travel with her, her presence ended up being a Godsend.

Eric and Dietrich had seats next to each other on the train. My seat was next to a strange (as in I didn't know him, though he didn't seem particularly odd) man, but Sarah swapped with him.

Lev hated the train. Again. I spent most of the trip either trying to nurse him (mostly unsuccessfully), or pacing with him, stopping occasionally to sit for a moment. This would have been inconvenient and uncomfortable had I been constantly disturbing the strange man, or trying to nurse modestly next to him, when Lev is totally distracted by the nursing cover-up and would prefer to play peek-a-boo with it.

Finally, to get Lev to eat, we had to send Dietrich to sit with Sarah, while I took up more than my allotted space in Dietrich's old seat (which was next to the window, and thus offered more privacy). Dietrich was more than happy to go sit with Miss Sarah. Probably he wouldn't have enjoyed the strange man as much.

To accompany Lev's constant fussiness, our train car contained several young drunk men who took a fancy to the baby (one of whom, slurring, said "I want one exactly like him"), pools of ick on the bathroom floor, a young couple picking the meat off of plastic bags full of crawdads, a babyshka who sat so stone still that I felt I should hold a mirror in front of her face to check for life, and a set of 25-ish-year-old identical twins dressed exactly alike. It was some ride.

We were happy to arrive, snag a taxi and finally arrive at the Teuberts' lovely house.

Did you catch that? House! The Teuberts don't live in an apartment. Several years ago, they bought a run-down house in a darling neighborhood. When they moved in, there was no place to buy bread nearby; now there is a tiny shop that sells bread, vodka, soda and candy, along with some other essentials.

All their renovations (which cost nearly twice the price of the house!) paid off. The house is beautiful. It's two-story and thoughtfully designed with the kitchen, dining room and living room all connected and a play area under the stairs. The back yard is huge and, at this time of year, packed with clean snow (a rarity in the city). Dietrich spent some time one afternoon perched in a tree, eating a snowball. Winter doesn't get better, if you're a 4-year-old boy.

Inside, the Teubert girls (ages 2 to 8) kept Dietrich occupied. Martin Teubert is Swiss, Anja is German and the kids speak German and Russian, with the older two adding some English and 5-year-old Melissa sometimes favoring Ukrainian. Without any parental influence, the kids figured out that Russian was their common language.

Meanwhile, I caught a cold, and ended up going back to bed pretty soon after I woke up on Sunday. Sick is a bummer, but if you're going to be sick, best to do it when your 4-year-old is totally enraptured by a house full of playmates and awesome German toys and your husband is away from work and able to entertain your 8-month-old.

I enjoy learning from Anja as she runs a household with four children; for instance, she doesn't immediately try to get breakfast on the table first thing in the morning. Instead, she stalls with chocolate milk, and serves breakfast once everyone is awake and alert. When the younger kids play with Duplos, they play on a big blanket. When they're done, she lifts up the corners and pours the Duplos back into their container. So smart!

Alas, we forgot our camera, but our neighborhood strolls left many a visual impression. Row after row of simple brick houses, blanketed in snow -- the calming effect occasionally jarred by an out-of-place log cabin, overly angular modern facade or Mexican-style villa. Bright red berry bushes popping out from the white background. Shiny icicles reaching down toward the frozen ground. Runoff from the neighborhood well forming an impromptu ice slide.

Ahhhhh.

I love, love, love our apartment. Seriously, not a day goes by that I don't walk into the kids' room and thank the Lord that we have a warm place to tuck them in at night. (This wasn't the case at our first apartment here.) But I do enjoy the respite of a house with a yard, especially one populated by fun kids and their hospitable parents.

Lev cruises his crib in his warm room:

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 18

This was the Week of the Meeting for Eric. He had a brothers' meeting at church on Monday night, an Executive Committee meeting on Wednesday afternoon, an Area Council meeting from 2 p.m. until midnight on Thursday, a men's breakfast on Saturday morning, and a men's meeting at church on Sunday night. Whew.

While we waited for daddy to get home from meetings, the boys and I:

1) Had Lois Thorpe over for dinner twice! We're so glad to have her back.

2) Committed the past year to DVD. Soon, the grandparents will be receiving a three-disc set I've dubbed "The Year of Pixar," for it was about this time in 2010 that Dietrich grew focused enough to watch a whole movie. And that I grew pregnant enough to let him watch a whole movie.

We started with "Finding Nemo," and moved on to "Cars," "Toy Story," Toy Story 2," "Monsters Inc.," and "Toy Story 3." I think we're about caught up on Pixar's age-appropriate movies (except for boring ol' "A Bug's Life"). Needless to say, we're hotly anticipating the "Cars" sequel.

I assuage my guilt about letting Dietrich watch movies by insisting that on weekdays, we only watch them in Russian or Ukrainian. Just sneakin' in a little extra language learning.

By the way, what did little boys watch before Pixar? "Jungle Book" over and over and over?

OK. Get ready. Here's the part of this blog where I get with the times. I posted scenes from Dietrich's sadik show on youtube. (Special appearance by Lev's head at 9:12.)

The camera man (Eric) apologizes for the video quality. We grownups are packed into the back of the room, and pretty much everyone is holding a recording device of some sort and jostling to get a good angle to use said device. Those of us sitting are perched on kid-sized benches and it's about 85 degrees in the room. It's actually quite uncomfortable, but aren't the kids darling?

3) Bought tickets for our trip to California in late Spring. It's a vacation/work split (thankfully more vacation than work). We can't wait. Dietrich's got a "to-do in America" list hanging on the fridge. So far, it's entirely a list of treats he wants to consume. He's so our child.

We used Vayama to buy the tickets. Their customer reviews online are pretty poor, so we're expecting great hassles if anything about our tickets needs to change. However, we saved about $250 per ticket off the KLM site's price for the same itinerary, so we're chancing it.

4) Spent a morning with Mama Rist and her three kids. The Rists are another expat family serving at Kyiv Theological Seminary, and their house is Dietrich's idea of heaven. They have two boys who are a bit older than him, so they have a great toy selection. Plus they are super nice boys who share very, very well. Plus they have a charming, also fun-to-play-with older sister, who can keep an eye on the boys while the moms drink coffee. (Oh, wait, that's why it's MY idea of heaven.)

5) Dealt with a very difficult day at sadik. Dietrich was constantly pestering us to let him bring a toy to sadik. "All the kids do it," he claimed. So, we checked and, sure enough, all the kids do it. Problem was (and we really should have anticipated this), Dietrich only wanted to share the toy he brought with one little girl. ("I shared with Dasha, because she's Sasha's girlfriend and Sasha was sick, so I wanted to help Sasha by taking care of Dasha.") To Dietrich, this meant he SHARED for Pete's sake. Plus, he was watching out for his best buddy's main squeeze. (Sasha, by the way, is the blue male dwarf.)

To everyone else, including the teachers, this meant Dietrich was unwilling to share. Also, he refused to eat. So, bad day.

But the next two days were awesome. Dietrich behaved perfectly. He also ate, without having to be fed every bite. He totally bounced back, and we are so glad to see that he is able to put a bad day behind him and move on. Yay for crucial-life-skill acquisition!

Lev's become a standing machine. He holds on with just one hand. He stands in his crib and works his way from one end to the other. And, when he's not standing, he's busy flopping on his belly, rolling back onto his rump, back to belly, over to back ... you get the picture.

He totally gets around. And yet, he does not crawl. He still relies on his pushup/lunge combo, which is quick, but not as quick as "real" crawling. But don't tell him that! I'm enjoying the ease of being able to beat him to the door, even when I have to take the time to wash raw chicken juices off my hands. These pictures are from late December, but nothing has changed.







Warning: Potty talk ahead. Literally. You might want to stop reading now.

Eric really had the hardest week. In addition to attending all those meetings, he had to carry Dietrich's poop to school. All the kids had to bring in a stool sample on Monday or Tuesday morning (we assume to check for worms, though we don't know for certain).

We have needed to do this enough times here that we've developed quite an efficient routine for the actual collection bit. It involves aluminum foil and plastic spoons. Normally, the sample is delivered in a matchbox wrapped in newspaper, but D's school specified that a small glass jar should be used. I did have to google how to store the sample overnight, and found this (probably unnecessary) step on ehow.com:

"Refrigerate the container with the stool sample. Place it in a brown paper bag to avoid viewing when in the refrigerator and prevent food contamination."

Really? A brown paper bag is necessary for preventing fecal food contamination? I suspect the people who wrote "to avoid viewing when in the refrigerator" were embarrassed to have to write something so obvious, so they added a "scientific" reason, too.

Stay tuned for next week, when we learn that plastic wrap cures the common cold ...

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 17

With Dietrich back at sadik in the morning, I looked at my schedule for the rest of the month and realized I had no SEND projects to work on until the last week of January. What perfect timing, as my list of Oldenburg family projects had been growing steadily for months.

So, my primary goal for the week was to get that chaotic spare room in order. This required sorting through (among other items) baby clothes. This required tears, nostalgia, premature thoughts about future family plans ... no wonder I've been avoiding this task!

Actually, emotions aside, I found it much easier to make decisions about what to keep and what to toss now that I've clothed two infants. Though I didn't realize it back then, with Dietrich, I had all the time in the world. Who cared if sweet little sleepers buttoned up the back? Or if shoes required several minutes of gentle nudging to coax them onto wee baby feet?

Lev lives in zip-em-up, one-piece jammies. Occasionally, if we have guests, he wears pants. He's a hard baby to put pants on because:

a) His brother was/is skinny, so when I sorted through baby things four years ago, I gave away all the pants that didn't fit Dietrich. Oops.

b) At nearly 8 months, Lev's 24 pounds -- average weight for a 16-month-old. I joke that we're going to start a clothing line for husky babies. Our signature onesie will read, "Lift with your legs."

c) I've compounded the big-baby issue by using cloth diapers with doubled inserts. These add a couple of inches to Lev's already generous rump. (Which, by the way, is the cutest rump ever.)

I figure, if we do have another child, I won't have any more time to clothe him or her. So, awkwardly placed buttons? GONE! A bit small in the neck for a big baby head? GONE.

In the end, I filled two huge boxes with unnecessary items (baby and otherwise), and now I will wait until Spring to hand the boxes over to a local church that has a rummage sale twice a year. I'd rather get rid of it all now, but there's no Goodwill here. The other giveaway option is to leave usable items by the dumpster. I've done this in the past, but I always feel like someone will know that it's me, the odd American, ditching these things. It feels overly public, I suppose.

Well, you probably didn't really care to read quite so much about my spare room and my chubby baby. Too bad! Because I feel I must update you on Lev's eating habits. First, look at this picture:



Doesn't that look like a kid who's happy in his high chair, eager for a yummy pureed meal?

Well, this is how feeding Lev has actually gone:



After an initial happy taste of squash, Lev has refused to eat. No more squash. No zucchini. No pears. No apples. He is totally disinterested.

So I've given up. For now. I could force feed him, of course. He's big, but I'm still bigger. But that's just upsetting for everyone -- especially, it turns out, for Dietrich.

Every once in a while, I plop him in the chair and try to give him a little taste of something, but as soon as he starts shrieking, we're done. And that's usually before he's swallowed a spoonful. I tried teeny-tiny pieces of banana, too. He enjoyed smooshing them, but nary a morsel got near his mouth.


Lev has no use for his high chair, unless it's helping him stand. He really wants to master this skill, and he refuses to bend his knees when I try to sit him on the floor.

I suppose this is the benefit of having a big baby. I'm fairly certain he's getting enough mama milk, so I don't feel pressured to supplement with anything else. It's also the benefit of having a calm baby. Lev hardly ever shrieks, so when he does, I know he's really, truly communicating unhappiness -- not just general crankiness.

I do hope that this approach works. Our approach with Dietrich certainly did not work. We still could have daily battles over food, though we do try not to let mealtimes degenerate into conflict anymore. I talk with Dietrich a lot about how Jesus wants peace in our house, and fighting over every.single.bite of anything that isn't pizza or a waffle or a tangerine doesn't really contribute to that goal.

While we're on the topic of food, on Thursday night, we welcomed Dr. Doug Hayward and Lois Thorpe for dinner. Dr. Hayward is the director for Biola's Ph.D. and Master of Intercultural Studies programs, and these programs have an extension that meets at Kyiv Theological Seminary. (The extension differs from the program that Eric helps run in that it's primarily for ex-pats, not Ukrainians.) Dr. Hayward was a missionary for 20 years in Indonesia, and he's got some great stories to tell. It was a fun night, and it fueled my desire to learn how to explore other cultures more thoroughly. If only I could barter dinners for tuition.

Thursday also was my dad's birthday (hooray), so I called and we had a nice chat.

The next night, he called me to let me know that his dad had died.

My Grandpa Si was gregarious, confident in his strengths, honest about his weaknesses and prone to ask difficult questions. He did not shy away from an argument. He spoke his mind. He was quick to give an opinion, even quick to disagree, but he remained unwavering in his love and support for his family and the countless number of people he called friends. He taught by example, showing how to be generous by giving freely, showing how to have an authentic relationship with God by openly discussing his doubts and excitedly sharing his insights, showing how to build a strong marriage by devotedly serving his wife in every circumstance (including many difficult ones). Though my grandparents weren't famous, theirs was one of the world's great love stories, and I am blessed to have witnessed their life together.

I think the deaths of my grandparents will remain rather unreal to me until our next visit to California. They didn't live far from my parents, and we sometimes would drive up and spend a hour or so listening to old stories or arguing theology with my grandpa (until the discussion got too heated and grandma put an end to it).

The last time I saw my grandpa was in the hospital, just before we returned from Home Service. He'd just had a stroke, and he was awake and uncomfortable and unwilling to eat (though he would drink grape soda). I don't know the name of the ward he was in, but it was extremely unprivate -- a collection of mostly open rooms built around a central nurse's station. He looked funny; I realized later that he didn't have his teeth in. I prayed for him.

He never got fully better, but he did return home, to my grandma. After decades of taking care of her, he always said that he wanted her to die first. He didn't want to leave her alone with no one to care for her. He was willing to accept the sorrow of living without her. Does that sound morbid? It wasn't. It was somehow sweet. It was love.

Most of the things that cause death are brutal. They are dark and difficult to endure. I'd rather not think about them, and yet, I do. So I appreciate that my grandparents were willing to talk about death, but always in light of their relationship with God.



With my grandparents in August 2009, just days before he ended up in the hospital.

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 16

Long ago, when we were young and childless, Eric and I visited the main square in downtown Kyiv around New Year’s. We strolled and people-watched and marveled at the big Christmas (New Year’s) tree. It was lovely.

This year, we figured Dietrich was old enough to enjoy the experience, too. So, we loaded the family onto the metro and headed downtown on Monday, Dietrich’s first day of winter vacation.

We took this picture …



… but this shot really sums up the day:



The boys ate at McDonald’s, and I had birdseed balls and a tangerine. That was good! And then the barista sneezed into my hot chocolate. And all our coats somehow got dropped on the filthy food-court floor. And Dietrich was wearing the wrong clothes to go on the ice slide. And the square was chaotic, stuffed with Grandfather Frosts, Tiggers and assorted other costumed creatures offering to pose for a picture (for a fee). And the beautiful Christmas tree had been replaced by one plastered with a chocolate company’s lavender logo. And people-watching held NO interest for the 4-year-old. And he didn’t like his ice cream. And, on the way home, I lost his hat.

Some days are like that, even in Ukraine.

On the plus side, an elderly lady gave Dietrich an acorn, and that simple act of generosity still makes him happy when he thinks of it.

Winter vacation: Day 2 was much better. We loaded the family onto the marshrutka and journeyed 90 minutes to a city outside of Kyiv, where our closest Ukrainian friends just moved. Lev no longer detests public transport, Dietrich got to go downhill sledding for the first time, and I left feeling more content about Oksana and Zhenya’s move. Their new apartment is quite nice, and I am happy for them, as they were without a home for several months, and had looked at some real dives here in Kyiv.

Trees grow right outside their second-story windows; in spring and summer, I think it will feel like living in a treehouse – a delightful little nest for their growing family.

This visit did a lot to temper my sadness about having Oksana move so far away. For great stretches of the past few years, I spent more time with her than anyone else (Eric, Dietrich and Lev excluded). Countless challenging situations have been made far easier because she was there to help. In many ways, she taught me how to live here. She is a beloved friend, and I will miss seeing her so frequently, but it gives me peace to be able to visualize her in her new nest.

Friday morning found us in church, celebrating Jesus’ birthday again. For the first time, I tried to add some activities to the rest of the day to make it as special as December 25. After church, Dietrich helped me make a birthday cake for Jesus; oddly enough, Jesus' birthday cake ended up being MY favorite cake.



That night, we had friends over, and we all sang Happy Birthday and read Jesus’ birth story. It was a good first attempt at expanding the holiday season for the kids, I think.

That day, Dietrich made a Great Leap Forward. He drew actual stick people, rather than faces with arms and legs sticking out of them. And, as happens with every Great Leap Forward, I felt proud and sad and determined to make a more concentrated effort to enjoy him now, before he grows up and goes away to college. (Speaking of which, we’ve been watching a lot of “Toy Story 3” around these parts, and I’m not sure it’s good for my mental stability.)



Daddy only worked two days all week, so he was able to do lots of fun stuff, like build this sweet spiderweb.



And Sunday, Dietrich and I left Lev and Daddy at home and spent hours looking for a new hat, scarf and mittens. We got a sweet hat/scarf combo, but the mittens we finally settled on are the pits. They seemed warm and water-repellent in the store, but they actually attract moisture and currently are sitting in a pile at sadik, sopping wet and probably growing a fungus.

During that shopping excursion, Dietrich made another Great Leap Forward. I gave him a choice: Eat French fries now, or buy a Kinder Egg and wait to eat it at home. First, he considerately asked me whether I really wanted French fries. When I assured him that it was entirely his choice, he chose the Kinder Egg. Despite the delayed-gratification factor. And, as happens with every Great Leap Forward …

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 15

Western Christmas marks the start of our holiday season, so the celebration continued on Monday with our team Christmas shindig. Everyone gathered for hors d'oeuvres and desserts, real presents for the kids and a White Elephant exchange for the grown-ups. (As you'll recall from my previous post, I am now a grown-up.)

The kids and I arrived late, because Dietrich (unexpectedly) had sadik and dance class in the week following December 25.

Earlier in the month, I had asked Dietrich's teacher when vacation started. "December 27," she replied.

So, on December 24, while picking up Dietrich, I wished his teacher the traditional blessings for the New Year. She replied with, "Why isn't Dietrich coming to sadik next week?"

Um ... because you said vacation started next week?

"Right, but vacation is only for school. We work through December 30."

I cannot imagine why she thought I needed to know the primary-school schedule, but I admit I appreciated a few bonus quiet mornings, especially since Eric was taking advantage of the quieter-than-normal seminary to get some work done.

So, late to the party we were, but we sent Eric (who was emceeing) ahead with a heavy load of gift bags, appetizers (bird-seed balls), cookies (see below) and slippers (so that Dietrich and I didn't have to wear our snow boots the whole time).



Last year, we did a candy exchange for the kids, but Dietrich gets so much candy at this time of year that, in April, we still had an untouched (and stale) jar sitting around.

So this year, we opted for a sticker exchange. We made two piles -- one for boys and one for girls. The boys went first, and every single boy chose the very stickers that his mom had picked -- even though they didn't know who had brought which package. It was uncanny.

In the White Elephant exchange, I got a large piece of intricately embroidered cloth that I consider absolutely gorgeous. I cannot believe anyone would give it away! I'm planning to buy a piece of plywood, pin it to the plywood, put it on a photo ledge and call it art.

Tuesday was party number 2 -- this time, a gathering of women connected to Kyiv Theological Seminary. It was planned and run by a team of Ukrainian ladies, which meant it was both a party and a chance to learn more about Ukrainian culture. We all sat at a long table laden with sweets and fruit, and there was plenty of time to talk, but they also interspersed games and songs at just the right intervals. We were supposed to bring sweets for the table; I opted for birdseed balls -- they're appetizers for Americans, desserts for Ukrainians. (The No. 1 comment I've gotten from Ukrainians when I've made typical American desserts is that they're too sweet.)

Tuesday night, we left Lev (for the first time) and Dietrich with Becca, the teenage babysitter who aged me. We had two goals: Buy me a winter jacket and buy an immersion blender so that I could more easily prepare future meals for Lev. We succeeded, and just in time. As we walked out of the jacket store, Becca called, urging us to come save Lev. He gets a little on edge when momma's not around.

My jacket is knee-length, navy, down-filled, washable and quite warm. I like it. I was very tempted to buy a long, poofy, ice-blue jacket that I loved, but opted for a more practical color. Since then, muddy boots have kicked my jacket a time or two, so I feel like I made the right (though not the loveliest) decision. Someday, my kids won't need to by carried (sigh), and I shall wear ice blue.

Wednesday was a day we'd long anticipated: Lois Thorpe returned! And she was staying with us! Alas, in the December chaos, I'd completely neglected our guest/throw-everything-in-there room, so it took me a full day to get it in decent shape for her. Never again, I vowed, will I let it get this out of control.

Thursday we had our friends Oksana, Zhenya and Nikita over for raclette. They've moved to a city about 90 minutes from our house (boo!), so I was extra thankful to see them.

Friday morning, Lois left at 6 a.m. to go visit some friends, and Dietrich woke up as she left. This is about 90 minutes earlier than normal, so we opted to have him take a one-hour nap before lunch. This may sound like minutia, but it matters later on, I promise.

Then, the gift-opening began! Normally, we'd wait until Jan. 1, but we've found that Dietrich doesn't really enjoy receiving many presents all at once. He gets overwhelmed. So, we decided to spread things out. Good thing we did, too, since the second present he opened was the hit of the season: A Buzz Lightyear!

I was worried when he first pulled off the paper. He seemed puzzled, unhappy with Buzz.



But after about 10 minutes of trying out all of Buzz's buttons and bendable parts, he was in LOVE.



My favorite lines of the day: "I got the coolest toy of ever," and, said very seriously: "I think I'm really gonna like playing with this." And he does.

Meanwhile, Lev enjoyed the wrapping paper ...



... and, the hunt is over -- Grandma Cindy found the cutest stuffed lion ever.



Our plan for the night was to Skype with Grandma and Grandpa, put the kids down at about 8, spend a quiet evening watching a movie, wake them up at 11:30, put on outside clothes and go for a midnight stroll to watch the fireworks.

But they must have sensed the excitement in the air, because neither kid slept. At 10 p.m., we finally gave up and let Dietrich watch a movie in bed.

We left the house just prior to midnight. Lev was asleep in his stroller by the time we walked through the archway out of our courtyard. Three minutes later: "Daddy, I'm tired. Can you carry me on your shoulders?" Ten minutes after that: "Daddy, I'm tired. Can we go home?"

We'd barely seen any fireworks at that point, so we took a long route home, and were fortunate to see these beauties.











We also were fortunate to avoid being hit by the one firework we saw shoot sideways and explode against a car in the parking lot outside our building!

When everyone finally rolled out of bed the next morning, the presents were under the tree. My mom labels presents by finding stickers that represents the person's year. The year we got married, I got bridal-themed stickers. The year we drove across the country, I got stickers of the various states. I love this idea! Eric was easy -- baseball stickers on packages from my parents (since we only watch baseball in the States), football stickers on the packages from me (since he goes to watch football at a friend's house on Sunday nights). Lev was easy -- rattles and other baby items.

And for Dietrich? Well, Dietrich loves the number eight. Why? Because it has two circles. Eric dreamt him up a little rhyme about the circular numbers:

Six, eight and nine,
Almost in a line.
Without that dirty seven,
the line would be fine.

When we go to church, Dietrich opens the songbook and looks for the eight songs. (Our songbook is arranged by number, not by title.) Last week, he found 888! So, his packages were labeled with eights.



We had a pleasant morning opening presents. Eric practically wore holes in his shoes finding me a waffle maker; I, on the other hand, took the easy way out and ordered all his presents from Amazon. Baba and Papa sent Dietrich a Duplo "Cars" set that was the second hit of the season. (Actually, that was a nice plus of this year -- Dietrich really appreciated at least one gift from every gift-giver.)

Meanwhile, Lev got a plastic lion and a bin to hold all his hand-me-down toys. Ah, the plight of the same-gendered second child.



We took a break for sweet rolls, then Daddy sneaked out to set up Dietrich's big present from us: a Spiderman race track.



Lev was asleep when the race track made its appearance. When Lev woke up, I learned a lesson. Next time we introduce something huge to the house that's only appropriate for half of the children to touch, I'd better have a plan for where to put it.

So, I spent the next couple of hours coming up with a home for the rack track.

At first, I played with the idea of putting it on a large piece of plywood on casters, so that it could be rolled from room to room. That seemed do-able, but honestly, it would probably be a while before we could pull that project off.

Then I decided to put it in the guest/throw-everything-in-there room. In that room, we have a large cupboard that we had build specifically to hold our winter stroller. The shelf for the stroller is huge -- big enough for a Spiderman race track. However, on New Year's morning, it was packed with the stroller chassis, a stuffed lion chair, all of Dietrich's 2- and 3-year-old clothes, and who knows what else. So, I pulled all that out. Tossed it on one of the guest room beds. And totally undid all the good I'd done earlier in the week.

And then, I decided that I didn't like the idea of banishing Dietrich to the guest room every time he wanted to play with his race track. I mean, our apartment isn't huge or anything, but the guest room is as far away from the kitchen as you can get. So, I eyed my kitchen cabinet. After pulling out the tall pots, a huge basket of potatoes, and all the cookie sheets, muffin tins and pizza pans, I made space for Super Secret Spidey World.



I love this solution! I've long wanted to find something that would keep Dietrich occupied in the kitchen. For some reason, he has decided that his cars, trains and Duplos don't belong in the kitchen. While this means I don't trip over wee vehicles, it also means that Dietrich is often on his own while I'm making meals. Or, if he's in the kitchen, he's bored and therefore prone to start playing with off-limit things: the bolt on the one leg that supports part of our counter, the freezer, his brother's face. Super Secret Spidey World to the rescue!

Of course, this project set me off on an organizational flurry. First, I had to find new homes for all the stuff I pulled out of the cabinet, which led me to discover quite a few things I really didn't need anymore, which led me to start a give-away box, which led me to make a list of all the parts of our apartment that I want to go through with an eye toward paring down our possessions. In with the new, out with the old. Happy New Year!

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 14

On Monday, Dec. 19, Dietrich woke up with a fever. (Broken record alert!) I called sadik to let them know he wouldn't be coming.

And that's when I started to realize the importance of the upcoming winter show.

"Okay," his teacher said. "But tomorrow the gnomes have rehearsal at 11 and he needs the practice. Unless he's extremely sick, bring him to rehearsal tomorrow."

To pass the time on Monday, I filled in a gap in Dietrich's technological knowledge. I taught him how to use a mouse. Or, rather, the fine folks at sesamestreet.org taught him how to use a mouse.

We're pretty no-tech around here when it comes to the kids. Dietrich can't turn on a DVD on his own. He doesn't know how to use the remote. We don't have any video gaming systems. And I've always been too nervous to let him touch my computer. It seemed akin to letting him touch my brain -- and, actually, these days, my computer's more reliable than my brain. (Insert stuck-up Mac-user quip here.)

But last week, we had a friend over to play. And, while they were arguing over who got to write on the chalkboard, the friend suggested that Dietrich have computer time while he wrote with chalk. "Dietrich's not allowed to play on the computer," I said. The friend, age 5, looked shocked.

I decided I'd better get with the times.

In other Monday news, Lev started babbling. He's been a mostly silent kid, but all of a sudden on Monday, in a fit of frustration, he threw himself back and said, "Da, da, da, da, da!" However, when I say "ma, ma, ma" to him, he still laughs at me like I'm crazy.

By Monday night the fever was gone, but to be on the safe side, I took Dietrich in to school later, in time for rehearsal. On the way in, I ran into another mom bringing her daughter late.

"Are you sick," I inquired.

"No, but the winter show is what we work for all year," she said. "I don't want her to get sick before it, so we're only coming for rehearsal this week."

This was my second sign that the winter show is a Big Deal.

My third sign came when I picked Dietrich up an hour later -- and so did three other moms, all of them wanting to avoid pre-show illness.

Well, I didn't really know this was an option. But, given Dietrich's weakened immune system, I decided to do the same. It worked out great, and gave us a little extra time to do some craft projects for his teachers (cotton-ball snowmen) and some friends (macaroni art, inspired by this game).

Thursday was the day of the Big Show. Pre-show was (as always) chaos: Moms (or grandmas) come to help the kids get dressed, and there really isn't space for that many extra bodies in the changing room. No matter how early I show up, I never seem to be there early enough. Some of the little girls have curled hair, lipstick, eyeshadow -- the whole glamor-shot look, so that certainly takes more time than slipping on a gnome (dwarf) outfit.

Dietrich doesn't do well in crowded chaotic situations. I'm pretty sure he learned to dislike these moments this from me. So, our pre-show pictures are pretty glum.



But the performance was great!







This was Dietrich's first time performing with a small group -- just four dwarfs and a Snow White. The only glitch was at the end, when everyone else went to sit down, and Dietrich stood in the middle of the room until his little friend Sasha caught his attention and directed him to sit.

Also, Dietrich opted to play peek-a-boo with his shovel during the poetry part of his act. Really, I can't blame him. There was a LOT of poetry.





Lev and I only made it through about the first 40 minutes. Soon after Grandfather Frost (the Slavic Santa Claus equivalent) showed up, Lev had had enough. Interestingly, when Grandfather Frost entered the show, the kids remained rather non-plussed. I expected screams of delight. Or terror. Or something.



That night, Eric took Dietrich on a special outing to get a present for me. They came home with flowers, and Dietrich "accidentally" announced one of my other Christmas gifts. That kid loves him the revealed secret.

While they were out, I peeled, steamed and pureed a squash that had been sitting around for a while. You see, well past his six-month birthday, Lev still hadn't tasted anything other than mama milk. I planned to wait until the next day and make a big deal out of his first "solid" meal. You know, camera, special bib, dad and big brother cheering him on. A repeat, if you will, of Dietrich's first meal.

But as I portioned out the squash, I looked at my finger, coated in rich, orange puree, and then I stuck it in Lev's mouth. No camera. No witness. Just me and my hungry baby, eagerly grasping for another fingerful.

Friday morning, I finally realized how you know you're a grown-up. You call your teenage babysitter at 9:12 a.m. on Christmas break. And, when you confess to your husband (via Skype, because you're not so grown-up that you still use a regular telephone) that you woke her up, he replies:

[12/24/10 9:35:01 AM] eric brandon oldenburg: you're officially old. you called a teenager on a day with no school before noon.

[12/24/10 9:57:04 AM] eric and josie oldenburg: i know. i'm so embarassed

[12/24/10 9:58:16 AM] eric brandon oldenburg: don't worry about it. as much as we'd like to think otherwise, i'm sure becca and benjamin and all of them see us more like their parents than like their friends.

E-gad! More like their parents?!? But their parents are adults! How has this happened?

We also walked to the street corner and picked out a Christmas tree on Friday, aka Christmas Eve. (Trees are part of the New Year's tradition here, so they're hard to find and pricey if you get them early. We pick out our tree on Christmas Eve and decorate it on December 25. Eric describes the rest of our unusual holiday schedule here.) It was Dietrich's special Advent treat to choose the tree, and he picked one with a wee pinecone growing on it. I was totally charmed.

Saturday, we opened stockings and a family present -- "Toy Story 3." We ate fancy breakfast, decorated the tree, had family movie time, went to church, Skyped with the grandparents and aunt and uncle, and just generally enjoyed Jesus' birthday.









Somehow, we managed to skip reading Jesus' birth story on December 25, so we made up for it then next night, when we had friends over for dinner, Christmas cookies and a showing of "A Charlie Brown Christmas."