my in-laws

Tolga is away for work, and the in-laws are helpful to have around.  Mostly.

I realized today that also, being around my in-laws for the past 9 weeks non-stop (since I stopped working), my first response coming to mind is in Turkish, not English.  I notice that today first at the bazaar when a man told my Anne how impressed he was with my Turkish.  Then later, when I was talking to my family via Skype.  Even to my own son, I find myself saying things in Turkish.

"In-laws" have a bad connotation.  I know.  But, I think I have really great in-laws - well, at least in-laws with really great hearts.

Granted, it's not easy to live with in-laws, in a different culture, with a different language, during postpartum hormonal changes coupled with type-A tendencies . . .

But, I'll focus on the positive today: Community and comedy.  Lots of love, interaction, help given to Teoman and me.  Food and tea are prepared.  Bird cage is cleaned.  Couch is vacuumed.  Dishes are washed.

The other night was a big match for Fenerbahçe - the family's football team was playing it's arch rival.  Tolga's youngest brother no longer has the cable channel that has monopolized all the games so he Skyped us and watched our TV . . .

Gokhan setting up the viewing arrangement 

We got a new bouncer seat and this morning Gokhan put our 6-week old right in front of the TV, claiming he really loves to watch it.  I said, "Gokhan!"  And he giggled and quickly said he'd move him.  I came back a few minutes later and Gokhan had put the bouncer seat on the couch because he felt bad about leaving him on the floor.  "Gokhan!"  He giggled again but tried to explain to me that it was better having the bouncer seat on top of the couch . . .

40 days

My Anne and brother-in-law both asked me today, on separate occasions, how many days old our son is . . .

He'll be six weeks on Tuesday, but the reason they asked how many days old he is - is because it is tradition to stay indoors for forty days with the newborn.  When I asked why, the answer was: microbes.

Does that mean on ay 39, dangerous bacteria may attack, but on day 41 they stop?  It sounds more like a tradition for serving up some postpartum depression.  I looked online about the significance of 40 days and several cultures do this for bonding between mother and son, adjustment to breastfeeding, recovery, weak immune systems, allowing the mother to stay home from church and family (requiring them to come to her) . . .

Yet, the tradition that sticks is the one linked to fear.  MICROBES! Eek eek eek!


I've been debating going for a walk with our son - outside to test drive our stroller and get at least one wear out of his snow suit (it's still really cold here) - in part to show I don't adhere to ridiculous beliefs.

Except I'm nervous about microbes now . . .

dependents

I thought I was an independent and (to-an-extent) fearless person, but I think marriage, Turkey, and our son has changed that.

Being married, I feel quite dependent on Tolga.  At least, more so on one person than I've ever been.  This is Tolga's doing.  We like to spend time together, always have . . . so I've gotten to the point where I have a hard time doing anything without him.  Tolga and I learned early on that whenever we were leaving each other, we tend to break down.  We fight, miscommunicate, and want to fix everything, big and small, last minute - faucets, plans for the future, etc.  For example, Tolga is leaving for four days, and then next week for eight days and I have this overwhelming urge to talk about really stupid things as if they are important before he leaves:
"Wait . .. um, I'm going to get a hair cut next week.  Could you talk to the guy and tell him NOT to cut the back of my hair so short this time.  AND, tell him I don't want to make an exact time because I can't predict Teoman's feeding schedule . . . and . . ."

Living in Turkey has also changed my mentality.  As a traveller - negotiated many foreign situations - but at this stage in my life, I'm just not as adventurous.  Partly because of the first thing (being married I don't want any adventure without Tolga), and partly out of practical reasons - the language barrier in daily routines living in a foreign country: apartment rental, government obligations, banking, bills, shopping, medical, hair cuts, etc.

And, of course, becoming a mother.  Never did I expect the fear that would come.  I didn't feel it while pregnant, and it's not overwhelming now - its just surprising.  I don't want to leave the house without him, I'm nervous to take him outdoors.  Is he too cold?  Is he too hot?  Is the air too dirty?  Am I ruining the planet for my son by using all these disposable diapers?  I instantly feel repentant for my disregard of our planet - sorrow for our human race.  What kind of world have we brought our son into?  He got his first shot last week and gave the saddest cry.  He will get more shots in his next visit - to immunize him from this diseased world.

I always thought my Farm Grandma was a saint for how much she prayed for all her children, and grandchildren ... but I understand now ... it's the only thing we can really do.

the missing piece

Day 1

 For Christmas, Tolga and I bought the family a puzzle.  We thought it would be a good project for us to work on together as a family - something to do during these long winter days.  I had in mind to get a 1500 piece puzzle, but we found a 3000 piece puzzle that Tolga wanted to get.  I liked the picture too, but hesitated on it's size.  "I don't know, it seems pretty big . . . it might take us like a week to do . . .  well, I guess that's a good thing."

Day 5

Baba saw the puzzle and said, "I can finish this in one day."  As you can see, five days later, not much progress had been made, and I wanted our dinner table back.  Well, there is such thing as a "puzzle rug" that hold the pieces and you can roll up without ruining the progress you've made.  So we bought it and continued working on the puzzle at night after work.  Baba took more of a managerial position.  (The puzzle was too hard).  Anne tried really hard, but she just couldn't distinguish the subtle color and size differences.  Gokhan tended to obsess over finding one particular piece and would insist on finding the one piece before moving on to another section.

Day 38 - 2999 pieces complete.  

Well, 38 days later we finished our puzzle, but learned it was a 2999 piece puzzle.  We looked everywhere for the missing piece - in the vacuum cleaner, under the couches . . . in the end, Tolga said he would paint in the missing piece.

In the end, we slid newspaper under it because we were going to glue it, but instead we rolled it up and put it away for when we were ready to frame it.  March 3rd, we were ready to go to the frame store.  Actually, we had got a new puzzle for Anne, and we needed the puzzle rug. Baba asked Gokhan to get something out of a cupboard in the TV console.  Gokhan complained, and Tolga got up instead. Tolga opened the door - and there lay the missing piece.  Baba said God was helping him because he listens to his father.

So we brought our 3000-piece puzzle to the framing store that day - and hung it up . . . it's a little . . .  large.

the finished and framed product - (notice Baba starting dinner without us)

making do with what you have

With the in-laws living here this winter, our summer home has been locked up tight for three months now.  Hakan, Tolga's youngest brother, periodically checks on the place - and recently came back from a trip to Germany.  One of his first errands was to check on the home again as theft is a big problem in the winter.

Theft was not the problem.  Iron bars shield all the windows and doors.  However, having experienced one of the wettest winters, the walls seemed more yellow, mold had begun to grow, and the whole place smelled wet.

Hakan had a plan, and he was quite excited about his plan.  He wanted to paint the whole house.

Tolga not only trusts his younger brother, but he believes in him, and so is ready to support whatever idea young Hakan has concocted.

I, on the other hand, do not have that kind of faith in Hakan.  I didn't hide my doubts in his plans.  Last time I got on board with Hakan's plans, I returned to a home littered with rubble and the family had stopped using the 3rd floor, terrace, and one bedroom because it became storage for junk and had been ruined by mold . . .  My logical side is throwing up red flags and blaring warning sirens.

Project #1 - the depot

Project #2 - 3rd floor balcony 

Apparently, we need more money than originally estimate for project #1 and project #2, but for his new projects - we can pay the guys in the summertime.  In addition, Hakan plans on funding the materials needed now by selling things around the house.  Hakan happens to be really good at selling and trading goods.  Whether it be cars, boats, or kitchen cupboard and broken air conditioners - he can make a deal.

Hakan has wanted to paint the place for a long time - but I insisted that he finish his other projects first...

Project #3 is painting the whole house with mold-killing paint.  Project #4 is changing the kitchen cupboard doors and counter top, and swapping the stove and refrigerator places.  He's giving the cupboards to our poor neighbors in exchange for labor - they will scrub the walls of mold.  Project #5 is punching two holes in the wall to create two windows in the kitchen.  (See pictures above and make your own prediction how that is going to turn out).

Nevertheless, Hakan's enthusiasm and charm are contagious - so it is easy to get on board with his ideas and excitement . . . he's like an eager puppy and wants to make the place nice for when my parents come.  And, who wants to squash that kind of spirit?