raising children with good grooming habits

We caught Josu cleaning out the dirt from underneath his nails with his dinner fork yesterday.
I'm super proud of him;
clean - - and resourceful too.

made for each other . . .

In his sovereignty, God knew that mankind would one day grind up chickpeas to make hummus. In his kindness, he created arugula for us to eat with that hummus.

p.s. don't think too hard about the theological accuracy of this statement. Instead, try hummus and arugula yourself and thank God for it!

Josu wears short shorts

There is little in Josu's four year old life that makes him so happy as wearing his (size 2) football set.

There is little in his life that makes him so sad as having to take it off

p.s. thank you, Nathaniel Jackson, husband of my sister, for gifting this set to Josu, and for the way it is helping him to read - - we caught him outside of a bar, spelling out the word "football" all by himself! - - C-A-R-L-S-B-E-R-G

puzzles and other happy things

my heart is happy today:
my little girl is doing puzzles,
and I'm doing laundry; it's windy and sunny - - just the right sort of day to hang laundry;
and laundry time is good because it facilitates thinking time, and I can't stop thinking about the wonderful conversation I had with my sweet friend last night . . . she called me late at night and I took a cab over to her place (taking the bus would have been all wrong last night; we had important things to talk about!); she made me the world's hottest cup of mint tea (it was perfect!) and I gave her my bible. giving away your bible to someone who wants it is one of the nicest feelings ever, I think.

and I'm happy because I have a call date with another friend, Carol, this afternoon. we are going to talk about things like:
is it right for a mature, spiritual person to enjoy beautiful things?
and
what exactly is the gospel? what does it mean to share it?
I can't wait to hear what Carol has to say about these things, and I can't wait to hear her interact with my thoughts.

and I'm happy because Joshua comes home from England today,
and it's his birthday,
and I'm going to make him chicken coconut red curry soup, except I can't find red curry paste here in Pamplona, so it will have to make it with green curry paste, I guess.

(hey look! no chairs!)

downtown and back again

dear Joshua,

I took the kids downtown to buy you a birthday gift this afternoon. I know you said no birthday gifts this year . . .but I think you're really going to like it! please don't check the credit card statement within the next 24 hours, ok? you like surprises, I like you to be surprised. . . so don't look!

also, a nice thing happened as it began to rain and we ran to catch the bus back home - - we bumped into our downstairs neighbor! She asked us to wait just ten minutes for her as she did one last errand, so that we could ride back together . . . and we had the nicest bus ride home with her; we talked a bit about last summer when our church tried to find ways to love the city of Pamplona during the festivals (you remember, of course, that she was the one who actually offered some really good suggestions when we did that, right?)
let's invite her for a coffee some time this month; I think I would really enjoy that!

how has England treated you this week? not to much rain, I hope! and not too many stuffy, hot tubes - - because I am remembering that I sent you off with only two dress shirts and a couple of t-shirts (you are a good traveler, my love)

good night!
Naomi

stickers on my window, and goodness! my house is a mess!

We had a rich few days together as a church this past weekend. We spend some concentrated time reflecting on some of our strengths and weaknesses as individuals and as a church community. on Friday night, after a rousing game of neon bowling, we came back home and spent half of an hour writing out important events in the little history of our church on post-it notes. we then arranged them as a time line on our window wall - - putting the highlights up high, and the struggles down low (perhaps you have done this before? it was very fun and enlightening!)
Joshua had to leave for a trip to London before he was able to record this fantastic documentation, so we left up the 107 little yellow squares for him to record it all when he returns later on this week.
While Joshua is away, I am trying my best to prepare for our move.
My friend Trini (remember Pablo? we love Pablo. Trini is Pablo's mom) came by yesterday to pick up some stuff I had set aside for her.

Trini's husband heads up Pamplona's catholic charity group, which means her house is furnished with bits and pieces of furniture that her good husband has brought home from the donation shop over the course of their marriage.

So when Trini came by yesterday, she took away my tables and chairs (and benches and fans and my lavender plant and my extremely hearty mystery plant). I warned her that my table has wine glass rings and globs of glitter glue in random places, but she insisted a hundred times that she wanted it anyways and that she would actually pay me for it. (yeah! into the camera fund that goes!)

while Trini was here, she asked my stickered window; she said that she had looked up at my apartment from the street level, and could see lots of little black dots and wondered what I had done to my windows.
I explained it to her, and she laughed at us . . . .
but I think she liked it . . . .

Rachel: being intentional, and looking all cute while she's at it

This is Rachel at her post graduation mingle time, texting her friends about where they are going to meet for pinchos . they will stay out late, roaming the streets of Pamplona, eating teeny tiny tasty foods (that's what pinchos are) and hanging out:
Rachel has lots to do this week.
she has a project to turn in,
and lesson plans to write.
She doesn't really enjoy staying up late
and her shoes are uncomfortable.
I suspect that she doesn't want to go out tonight,
but she will
because she loves people,
and she's shaping her life patterns in light of of that.
I think she's awesome.

babies kissing mirrors

babies everywhere, I think, kiss themselves in mirrors.
when Selma kisses herself in the mirror, she kisses herself two times - - one kiss for each cheek. I wonder if this phenomena is common among all Spanish babies? I think I'm going to have to ask around.
(are you a Spanish mom? does your baby do this?)

a gentle nudge

there's nothing quite like hearing your baby girl call out
"go-way mama! go-way!"
in her sleep at night,
to encourage extra snuggling with your baby girl
throughout all your waking hours the next day

(Selma and Malachai - - doing bull horns)

preparing for departure

We had a beautiful, sunny, sunny day today. I abandoned all household chores and headed out to the porch with Selma to sort through my pots and plants;
Selma spooned dirt from one pot to another;
I swept up the dirt that Selma kept spilling;
it kept the nuns across the street amused for a while.
I did eventually clean out most of my pots; I left the plants that looked the best - - a couple of geraniums, the lavender, and the olive tree; I'm hoping that I can find a friend or neighbor to take these when we move.

I was cleaning out the planter that was home to the strawberry plants last summer and found this sweet mysterious little plant: it's probably a weed, but I couldn't resist the spring-time urge to plant something so I snagged the spoon from Selma and transferred it to to an old yogurt jar.
maybe it will live for a bit.
(maybe?)
just until mom comes and goes (please!)

conversation stopper

We got back from London on a Wednesday.
Thursday morning I dropped Malachai and Josu off at school, and raced to the pasteleria. I wanted to make sure to catch Sonia and Ana for a coffee

I wanted to see them because I knew they would ask me about our trip to London, and I was excited to tell them about our traveling adventures, and about my little sister Abi's sweet, cozy hospitality in her teeny-tiny home (see Selma licking up uncle Nathaniel's world famous hot coco from the hallway floor - - below).

I was excited (and a little bit nervous, but mostly just excited) to tell them about the four hour meeting that Joshua and I had had with Mike and Richard - - good men who are serving and leading the church in England, and who are looking for help to do this.
I was excited to tell Ana and Sonia about the church that these guys had described for us - - an established, commuter church on the edge of an estate (that's fancy, British talk for a housing project) that has slowly, over the years begun to see the neighborhood change - - fill with immigrants from Asia, India and Pakistan. The church is interested in reaching out to and loving their neighborhood;
but they don't really know how,
and they are kind of afraid,
and they need someone to equip them for ministry, and to give them a vision for action.

And I wanted to tell Ana and Sonia how very much this excites me and Joshua - - we love the church! We believe that the great purpose of the church in this world is to love the world around it; we love joining with the church to do this!
but.
That conversation hardly happened; my sweet friends seemed barely interested, and the topic of conversation was quickly changed.

This didn't necessarily surprise me, I guess, but I've been thinking a lot about it, and there are two things that I keep going back to:

1. My greatest passions are not their greatest passions. I talk about these things because God has changed my heart; it's as simple as that.

2. While my Spanish friends have years of experience conversing about where to find the best butcher in town (and countless other helpful, interesting topics),
they
don't
EVER
talk about God, or the church, or anyone's passion for the church loving the world. And I think that partly, they have a hard time talking about these things with me because they're just not used to it.
they don't know what to say,
they don't know what to ask,
so they don't.

I've come to realize that
I need to get used to talking true to my identity with my friends
and they need to get used to hearing about my true identity

how about you?

culture 101

when Jeremiah and Mercy visited this Christmas, we taught them how to sound cultured.
"when you get back to the States" we told them, "don't say 'when we were in Europe' . . . say 'last time we were in Europe . . .'
"and try to fit it into as many conversations as you can" we coached them.

like this:
last time we were in London, Joshua took me to see Wicked at the Apollo theater.

see?
cultured.

when we were in London:

Once, not too long ago (last week in fact)
Joshua took me to the British Royal Academy of Music (well, it was Abi and Nathaniel, really, that took the whole family; but Joshua was there)
where we sat on a bench and ate Nigerian goat stew and Brazilian beef sandwiches;
and kissed while an opera singer practiced her scales in the background.
It was spectacular.
Even if your setup can't quite match up (I know, Nigerian goat stew is hard to beat), I highly recommend that you kiss the one you love; every day; several times a day

(and teach your children to cheer for you every time you do)

to London, to London!

I was praying with Malachai in bed last night. Malachai's prayer went on a bit longer than normal;

because he loves talking to God? very possibly.

because he loves talking to God and I was scratching his back at the same time? even more possible.

"please, God" he begged "help tonight be long enough for us to rest really well, but short enough for tomorrow to come really fast"

this morning we're off to London to do some business and (most importantly) to visit Abi and Nathaniel.

(and we're all very excited!)

weekend in review: part three

Sunday night:
The church had come and gone. there were carrot cake crumbs from the Lord's table still on the floor; Brett had stayed for dinner and the dishes were still in the sink, the floor a sticky mess.
It was late, and I was tired.
but I didn't go to bed. Instead, I stayed up a little bit later
and just cleaned.

weekend in review: part two

Saturday morning:
our doorbell rang.
it was our mailman.
the one who we say hi to every day;
the one who pokes his head into the coffee shop to tell us we have (x number of) letters waiting for us in our mail box;
the one we gave Christmas cookies to - - and a beenie on that day when it was snowing and he had no hat.

well, he doesn't normally come up; he usually stays downstairs where the mailboxes are, but on this particular Saturday morning he did - - he came up to tell us that his rout was changing, and that he wanted to say goodbye,
and to assure us that he had briefed the new mailman about how we are an American family that gets all sorts of mail and packages from across the sea, and how we need special looking out for.
I invited him in; of course I invited him in! (and I tried to position him so that he was looking toward the cleanest corner of the kitchen - - kind of like I do with my camera, you know?)
"You are leaving?" we asked him
"We are leaving!" we announced
and then there was a flurry to find paper to exchange addresses and then wishing each other the best, and off he went.
he left and I wrinkled my nose and clenched my fists (it's what I do when I think of something I'm embarrassed about)
and reminded myself of my resolve to keep inviting people in.
every time.
even when it's messy.
every time.

weekend in review: part one

Friday night:
Our friend Brett - - architect extraordinaire - -possibly knows more about architect Richard Neutra's life and work than any other living being on the face of this large planet. seriously.

So, this weekend it was Brett who was put together a public talk to share at our local community center (do you remember? Joshua has done this a couple of times , and so has Rachel) He explained some of Neutra's thoughts on spirituality and the modern man, and presented some of the religious architecture (church building) that was fruit of Neutra's perceptions.

And then after Brett's presentation, there was some round table discussion including two other architects and Rachel who is not an architect, but is a Christian who lives and loves church.
It was all fantastically fascinating and relevant; I wish you had all been there . . .Several of us went out afterward to the place across the street for a drink and a bite to eat. It was there, also, that our kids ran around yelling and chasing each other with wooden swords beneath the warm, humored gazes of all the other Spainish men and women out for something to drink and a bite to eat at 11:00 pm. (oh! Spanish night time culture, how I love you and your tolerance for wild children sometimes!)
At my end of the table we talked about travel plans and how sin, left unchecked can lead to greater sin.
I never did ask Joshua what they talked about at his end of the table.
it's now on my to-do list.
We got home late, and I was tired, so I ignored my crazy, messy house and dragged myself to bed promising myself I would clean it all on Saturday morning.
(sometimes it's just better that way)

Thurdays afternoons: at our place

Pablo comes over on Thursdays. I've told you that before, I think.
School finishes up at 4:30, and Pablo, who lives just one door down from us, walks home with us.
When we get home we snack together
(I hear out about what happened on the playground);
out comes the playmobile,
or the matchbox cars,
or the armory,
and then Joshua comes home and takes over; he's is a master with these boys
he pulls out the chessboard; sometimes he has them play only with a few select pieces, or sometimes he has them team up together to play against him; he has them fully engaged.
The loveliest thing happened not too long ago during one of Pablo's Thursday visits:
I was washing dishes, and Joshua was with Malachai and Pablo, playing chess at the table behind me.
I heard Joshua explain a move.
"look!" he said "the pawn attacked the bishop - - and won - - just like when David killed Goliath!"

Pablo had no idea what Joshua was talking about.
So in a heartbeat Joshua and Malachai were down from the table;
Malachai as David,
Joshua as Goliath
(and narrator),

and that is how Pablo heard about one of the greatest battles of all time