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.

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 8

I caught a cold right after we got back from Kremenchuk, so my hazy mind only recalls seven things from November 8-14.

1) We managed to make it to the Kremenchuk train station in time for our trip back to Kyiv. As expected, Lev hated the ride, but it was much easier to control the hate when there was room to stand up, bounce and take a little stroll. We didn't expect Dietrich's reaction -- he preferred the van! Too bad, kiddo, I'm never taking that marshrutka again.


Get me off of this thing!


Trains are boring.

2) On the way to a friend's apartment, we saw a lady walking her cat. On a leash.

3) On the same day, there was a goat hanging out in our courtyard all afternoon. We fed him a leaf, but he was really interested in eating Dietrich's goldfish crackers (they're German and fancier than the U.S. version, so I can understand why the goat wanted them).

4) I finished the Ukraine Update, a project I do four times a year to help recruiters in North America know what kinds of ministry opportunities exist over here.

5) We found out that, while we maybe won't find out the gender of my niece-or-nephew-to-be (until March, that is), he or she appears to be growing just perfectly.

6) Eric took a little break from prepping for his philosophy class to host a movie night. He dubbed it "Catching Up with the Culture Wars" and showed "Expelled" and "Religulous." Heated discussion occurred. I stayed home with the kids and started "The Young Victoria." It was a sweet movie, and I don't see it prompting any arguments.

7) Our friends Oksana and Zhenya are house-sitting in Kyiv, and they invited us over for dinner Sunday night. She made lasagna and forgot the tomato sauce, and it was so good. Like fancy mac and cheese. We had a great time that night -- until we got home and realized that Dietrich was running a fever.

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 7

Here I go, playing catch-up.

October was very, very busy for Eric. We might not have made it through with our sanity intact, were it not for the minibreak we had planned to visit our friends in Kremenchuk the first weekend in November. Whenever we felt glum about not seeing enough of daddy, we could squeal, "We're taking the train to Kremenchuk!"

For the few days before we left, we did a lot of wrapping up of projects so that we could leave as unburdened as possible. Eric worked a half day on the Thursday that we left, and we ordered a taxi 90 minutes before our train was to leave.

We made it so quickly over the bridge that separates our side of Kyiv from the center of the city that I mentioned that we might have time to stop at McDonald's. Famous last words. Pretty soon after we got over the bridge, we hit a traffic jam. And there we sat, creeping along so slowly that I asked the driver whether we'd make it. "Sure, you'll make it," he said. Again, famous last words. Forty minutes later, he asked whether our train left exactly at 4 p.m.

3:59, actually.

"Can you make it through the train station in two minutes?"

We tried. We roused Dietrich from the slumber he slid into during the ride, and we ran. Eric pulling a stroller and a suitcase, Lev bumping along in the poorly fastened Bjorn, Dietrich hanging tightly to my hand, we ran up the escalator, through the train station, down the stairs and onto the platform.

The train was not moving.

I yelled: "We made it!"

The conductor, standing in the train's narrow doorway, watching us pant, replied: "No you didn't."

And the train started moving.

And I started crying. Partly because I could think of about 10 one-minute tasks that I could have skipped before we left home, but mostly because I was so upset to disappoint Dietrich. The train was, of course, a crucial element of this trip for him.

"It's OK," I panted. "We'll find another way. We'll take a marshrutka."

And, thank you Jesus, Dietrich calmly accepted that alternative.

So, back up the steps, through the train station, down the escalator, and out to the nearby marshrutka stop, dodging dishonest taxi drivers along the way. (One guy tried to convince us that the marshrutka stop had moved and that we'd need him to drive us to the new stop across town.)

The van was set to leave in about 40 minutes, so we got McDonald's after all. I couldn't enjoy it, however, as the whole time I was thinking, "What if these sorry French fries are our last meal?"

The van, you see, has no seatbelts. And the two-lane road, it has no passing lanes. It does, however, have many, many slow trucks that every non-big-truck driver insists on passing. At night. And, as it turned out, in the rain.

This trip confirmed that public transportation is Lev's Kryptonite. He fussed for a large percentage of the five-hour ride, which kept my focus off our impending death. Dietrich? Normally the fussy one? Dream child. Despite the disappointment. What a trooper.

Thankfully, our van driver was kind. I could have hugged him when we finally arrived and asked what we should do with our trash. "Just leave it," he said kindly. "It's just good that you made it." Indeed.

While the minibreak got off to a rather disastrous start (although we did make it alive, so really, I shouldn't complain), the rest of the weekend was a shiny, happy respite from our day-to-day lives.

The Hoglunds thoughtfully planned a visit that included roasting marshmallows in the fireplace and carving pumpkins (special ordered from a seller at their outdoor market).



We also spent time on three different playgrounds, all of which differed from the norm of slide, swing, sandbox and teeter-totter. Kremenchuk is a factory town, and two of the play areas we visited were built by local factories -- one that makes candy and one that makes construction equipment.



The construction-equipment company donated a real forklift and truck that the kids could play on.


Rings are new!


One playground is in a larger complex called Peace Park. Also in Peace Park? Old war equipment.


My friend Oksana and her little boy, Nikita, were visiting family in Kremenchuk, so they joined us at Peace Park.


After thoroughly exploring the playground and tanks, we descended on the exercise area.

The third playground, sponsored by a political party, is built on sand (play equipment over a soft surface is an extra-special treat for a mommy) and right next to the river that flows just five minutes from the Hoglunds' apartment.



If I squinted just right, the water, sand and laughing children could almost replicate Southern California.

Andrea inspires me with her thoughtful approach to mothering and with her talent for creating an inviting home. The Hoglunds also eat well. I also came away from our weekend richer by several delicious recipes. My favorite: Bird seed balls

3 c. quick-cooking oatmeal
1 c. sunflower kernels
1 c. sesame seeds
1 c. raisins (or dried cranberries, etc.)
1 c. peanut butter
3/4 - 1 c. honey
1 tsp. vanilla

Heat peanut butter, honey and vanilla in a large mixing bowl in microwave (or stove top), until bubbly. Pour mixture over the dry ingredients of. Mix thoroughly and shape into walnut-sized balls. They keep well; I particularly like them out of the fridge.

Tip: To shape balls, run hands under water, shake off as much excess water as possible, then shape away until hands become too sticky again.


The kids played great ...





... we got to enjoy God's creation, without being surrounded by imposing concrete apartments ...


... we got to throw rocks in the river ...


... and we got to spend lots of quality time with Daddy. In short, a dream weekend.

Lev wakes up

Full disclosure: These were taken a couple of weeks ago, before the little guy started waking up at 5:45. Which he's done for the past four mornings. Also, he's discovered his own scream and how to grab noses. Basically, we wake up to baby pterodactyl in our bed, clawing at our faces. And that's why, starting tonight, Lev is moving into big brother's room.

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 6

Monday, Eric picked Dietrich up from school a bit early and took him to the indoor playground that they discovered over the summer, when Eric would take Dietrich one afternoon a week so that I could relax with my newborn. This time, however, Lev and I met up with them, and we all helped Dietrich try on snow pants. I've yet to find the perfect pair. Growing up in California did not prepare me to clothe children for the snow.

We rushed home in time for dance class. Primary and secondary schools are on fall break this week, so we called to make sure that there still would be class. "Yes, of course," we were told.

I dropped Dietrich off, went home to feed Lev, and returned 40 minutes later to find Dietrich in his classroom. Turns out, no dance class. "But it's OK," the teacher said. "He ate some vareniki."

I am amazed at how quickly Dietrich has adjusted to eating at school. At home, vareniki are greeted with looks of disgust.

"Dietrich sure loves cabbage," his teacher told me one day. Really? News to me!

Monday night, Lev sat unassisted for long enough that I was able to grab the camera and snap this not-very-clear shot. Who told this kid he could get so old?



Tuesday, Eric picked up his passport. He's legal again. Whew.

Wednesday morning, I went to the women's Bible study with Lev for the second time. It was pouring rain on our walk there, and (again) Lev didn't sleep until minutes after we left, though he still managed to charm the whole room in his overalls and yellow-knit cap from Aunt Jit Fong.

Wednesday is momma's helper day, and I thought I could fit in a couple of cooking projects. So on the way home, we stopped at the market to get pears to puree for Lev's future consumption, plus milk and bacteria for making yogurt.

Exhausted from pushing the stroller through the rain, I asked Eric to grab Dietrich from school, and settled in for a cozy afternoon. Right after Eric left, Dietrich's teacher called. Dance class had been rescheduled. For that afternoon.

I don't love these last-minute schedule changes, but they do make me extremely thankful that we're sending Dietrich to a school that we can see from our kitchen window. A few extra five-minute walks, even in the rain, are nothing compared with a few extra bus rides with two kids.

I did still find time to make the yogurt. This was my second attempt; the first was a total failure, because I overcooked it by many hours. This time, I ended up with yogurt, not sour ick. I have six little jars to eat, and so far I’ve experimented with adding honey, pears and strawberry jam.

Wednesday night, I was fortunate to attend Mommy’s Night Out – a group of ex-pat mothers who meet once a month for dinner. Everything about the evening was delightful — and I was thrilled to find a restaurant with tasty food that I felt safe eating. (Because of my buckwheat allergy, we are extremely selective about where we dine.) I had steak medallions wrapped in bacon and topped with herb butter, with potatoes, grilled onions and a grilled tomato on the side. Plus the best cup of rooibus tea I’ve had in Kyiv. I predict this place will show up again and again in these weekly updates.

Thursday, I had leftover bacon-wrapped steak for breakfast. So, clearly, it was a good day.



Thursday also was Lev’s 5-month birthday. Doesn’t he look sweet and content? In reality, he’s been growing crankier and crankier, I think over his inability to move forward. Dear Lev, at 5 months, you already are able to get from one room to another on your own. You rock on your hands and knees. You are SuperBaby. Give yourself a break!

Friday, I finished one project (an invitation to a women’s conference) and started another (a Ukraine-wide newsletter for recruiters in North America). Then, music class got cancelled, so the kids and I had loads of time to play outside in the lovely fall weather.

Saturday, we got crafty. (This is totally out of character for me.) Dietrich and I had been collecting red and yellow leaves on the walk home from preschool for several weeks, and we made a wreath (or picture frame?) out of them. He glued; I art directed (being bossy is totally in character for me).



We spend a lot of time on the kitchen floor. Lev is small enough that I feel wrong about just plopping him down, but if I put him on a blanket, it only gets in his way.

Later, we had friends over for pizza. They brought Dietrich a glow-in-the-dark rubber snake. He named it Satan. If you read a kid the Bible …

Sunday, Dietrich woke up with, "Momma, I had a dream that I had Satan in my mouth!" Later, he asked, "Momma, can you help me find Satan?" And then, "Momma, can I bring Satan to church?"

We went to church Satan-less, and the boys and I made it through more than an hour of the service, even though Lev didn't fall asleep. (I blame the time change; this part of the world fell back Sunday morning, and we’ve all felt a little out of sorts.) Daddy was preaching, which makes me feel less aware of every little peep we emit.

Last Sunday, I had a long list of chores I wanted to complete, and midway through the day, I felt convicted about not taking advantage of one of the two days that I don't share Dietrich with the Ukrainian school system. So, I'm making an effort to scale back on my Sunday responsibilities. Today, we read books and played games, and I handled (most of) the chores while Daddy took Dietrich to the playground to play catch.

The biggest excitement of the day was a 90-minute power outage at dinnertime. We played Uno by candlelight, and ate cold pizza.

And here's a quick shot of the now-totally-insulated apartment across the way. Hope they're comfy-cozy!

Seven Days in Kyiv: Week 5

In Eric's role as our team's theological education coordinator, he hosts occasional meetings for all SEND Ukraine missionaries who teach. Since Mark Saucy was still in town for Week Two of the Talbot session, Eric invited him to speak at Monday night's meeting. I cooked (apple crisp, apple cider and popcorn), and kept Dietrich from running into the meeting naked after bath time (it's happened before). We just can't get enough of those Saucys; we are so happy to see them every time they can return to Kyiv.

This week's Talbot session was taught by Vova, a Belorussian national who is on the Kyiv Extension staff. It was his first-ever class, and he prepared extensively for it. Just look at all those books!


Wednesday morning, Lev and I hit the market, buying up gobs of spinach and pears to freeze. This kid is a charmer, smiling and making eyes at all the ladies standing along the street, selling whatever their farms produced that day. Lev was in such a good mood that I also stopped by a couple of kiosks where people sell a chaotic collection of old stuff -- think teeny-tiny flea market. I found some great deals: A heavy aqua-colored glass dish (50 cents) and a tall 1500 mililiter milk pitcher with mililiter markings inside ($2.50).

Wednesday evening, Talbot hosted an open lecture. Speaker: Mark Saucy. Subject: Teaching to the heart. Attendance: 85! Eric was very pleased; these lectures are running smoothly and growing in popularity (although we acknowledge that Mark himself was certainly a huge draw this time around).


It's very trendy here at the moment to have insulation tacked on to the outside of your apartment; practically every building had a guy hanging off the side, drilling styrofoam sheets into the tile and concrete. We had a great view of the process all week, as two guys worked (even in the rain) to insulate the apartment directly across from ours.


Thursday, I thought I was on top of things, until I went to pick Dietrich up from school and found out that there was a show the next day, and I'd need to provide some decorations. So, we took a special trip to pick out a wee pumpkin and some lovely red berries. The costume list also was posted Thursday (for Friday's show!) -- thankfully, we only had to wear a Ukrainian shirt. Other kids had to come up with vegetable-themed costumes by the next day.

Friday was the big show! The theme: Generous autumn.



Seven months ago, Dietrich sat with me through his first preschool show. Five months ago, he sat with the other kids, but remained on the verge of tears. Friday, he sang. He danced. He was happy and personable. And, unlike his parents, he didn't get the giggles every time he looked at this poor cucumber kid and his very-restrictive costume.



Friday night, we had our mama's helper and her family over for dinner. Dietrich tried to impress the sweet girls with his funny faces.



Saturday I took Dietrich on a date with just momma, to look for snow pants and to eat at the Golden Arches. (Daddy dates include dinosaurs. Mommy dates include trying on clothes. Guess which Dietrich prefers?) Though it's fun to do something special, I treasure the ordinary moments of our days, like brother baths.


Sunday, we did church with both kids again. Daddy was preaching, which took a lot of the pressure off. I figured, even if we weren't totally silent, at least we wouldn't offend the preacher. But Dietrich did a great job, earning his first church Milky Way -- the highest reward for excellent behavior.

And this is the little face that peeked up at me from the Baby Bjorn on our cold and windy walk home.