meltdowns

Gokhan took Teoman down the street to get a passport photo for Teoman’s school registration.  This is how many mistakes me made:

1. He got four instead of six
2. He paid 40 tl
3. He got a CD
4. The picture turned out like this:

no smiling in Turkish legal photos

I got home, loaded the kids up in the double stroller and went again.  The photo shop I found wasn’t just a corner shop - it was a wedding photo studio - quite professional - quite above passport photo shooting.  

They were kind until they realized I was complaining about their services.  Forty lire!  Forty lire?!  For four tiny passport photos.  This is why the embassy doesn’t recommend your shop - that is ridiculous! 

- But we gave him a CD

What am I going to do with a CD of passport photos?  Thieves!  

- We only gave what the sir wanted.

So you’d make a home video of passport photos if he wanted to?

- We are at your service.

(sigh) Next problem - look at this picture, look at my son (Teoman is currently pushing the stroller in circles) These are not the same.

- We were only following the rules for a passport photo.

What rules?  

- From the American embassy.

These are not the rules from the embassy - I have four passports at home that prove the opposite.  I was just there two months ago - you can at the very least smile in the photo.  And what did you do to his hair?  

- These are the rules.  It’s not our fault. 

And that was the problem, Gokhan didn’t know what he wanted so just bought everything.  I’m surprised he didn’t have them make a home video of passport photos.  

- If you’d like we’ll do it again.  

Yes, please do it again.

So I got this:

not a legal photo

And they charged 20 more lire.

Sixty lire for 8 passport photos and a CD.  I gave the CD back.  

- But it’s yours.

Thank you, I don’t need it or want it.

- What you do with it is up to you.

Okay, I’m giving it back to you.  You need the money I think.

- You are not normal.

I know.

It wasn’t a very good day.

a Turkish doctor

We visited the doctor again on Saturday - sometimes we try to squeeze in a three-fur with the doctor.  Since its at a hospital, we don’t always get the same one.  Saturday, we got the doctor who had seen Teoman the week before for his coughing fit/breathing treatment.  Saturday she was the nobet doctor - on call - which means she’s there all day in jeans and a button-up shirt wondering when she can leave.  

She listened to Teoman’s lungs, looked in his mouth, ears, nose.  Told us he has no ear infection.  (We didn’t even imagine so).  Told us he’s looking well but 1) keep him inside for one more week  2) wrap him up in blankets  3) don’t let him sweat.  

Tolga asked her about the stye on her eye.  

Put these drops and this cream in her left eye.

But its in her right eye.

Yes. Put the drops in both because its in both.

Then I gave her Teoman’s health report for school.  It looked like a standard health report to me … but the doctor looked at it irritatedly.

What is this?

A health report.

For sports.

No, for pre-school.

I can’t complete this, he needs to see a cardiologist.

A cardiologist!?

Yes, for an ultrasound of his heart.

Are you sure?  Its just for pre-school .. .

So, I came back today to find our regular doctor to fill out a regular report today.  No funny business.  A sat in the waiting room as the receptionist typed a thousand things into the computer. 

Why are they always typing?  What on earth requires so much clicking and shuffling of paper so urgently?

Our doctor walked by.  He walked by again.  I overheard the girl say something about Tuana Beth, I though about correcting her, but waited instead.  The Turkish way would have been to barge down the hallway into his office - but I was too shy for this.  She randomly looked up and sent me eventually - and I explained to our doctor quickly and nervously how I’d been here twice for Teoman blah blah blah and he filled out the form.  

He also told me that the “standard” health form I gave him, was not the standard in Turkey.  Its easy to forget countries have different standards. 

our double stroller

I made an egg bake last night.  I've had a one pound Jimmy spicy sausage in the freezer for a couple of months now - and I finally pulled it out the other day - made the egg bake.  (Couldn't find half-and-half at the store, so I literally used half milk and half cream).  It was a partially soggy so I suppose it needed to cook more but I didn't want to wait any longer.  Tolga ate some, but pork grosses him out.  And Gokhan wouldn't touch it - pork grosses him out too.  I find their pork aversion extremely annoying because 1) they didn't even try this one, 2) it's totally psychological and 3) I'm easily influenced by opinions around me and I started getting grossed out after my second serving as well (although that could have been the sogginess).  

We walked the egg bake off - going down to the bazaar to get some things.  It's been a while since we used the Sit-n-Stand and so the kids were pretty excited to ride in the stroller which was probably not built to hold their 35 combined kilos plus Tuana and her car seat.  

they decided to share the front seat

the sit and stand - built for two, but there are three here...
it's bit front heavy right now

lines my kids say

sleeping like her Baba

"Mom, I'm love you.  Can I sit in the front with you now?"
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking."
"Don't get mad!  You'll wake Tuana!"
"Can I have a treat now so I don't cry?"
"Thanks for taking me here mom."
"It's four (or some other random number). Time to get up."
"Baba, I'm going to ask you something after Mama leaves . . . Baba?  Can I watch a show, plllleaaase?"
"Mom!  Tuana's crying.  She wants your milk."

at the park (kids are on the spiral slide)

Saturday morning - indoor play area at the mall

Where She Went - Review

This story is the sequel to If I Stay, where the main character Mia was the lone survivor from a car crash with her family.  This story takes up three years later from her boyfriend's perspective.  Adam's career has exploded as his rock band's albums have gone double platinum and he lives in LA with his actress girlfriend.  The book mostly takes place within a 24 hour period where Adam happens across Mia's concert debut in New York, just before he is to depart for his own world tour.  In spite of Adam's fame, he has become more and more disconnected from the world - having anxiety problems, sleep issues, has become paranoid, superstitious, and anti-social.  He has fallen out with the band, the center of fan and media attention, and lost.  Mia had left for Julliard and while slowly phased out contact with him completely without explanation - and there meeting is the first since she left for school.

What I liked: They had such a sweet relationship.  It was fun to follow their imagined careers and success.  Their moments together were filled in with many flashbacks to their early relationship, her recovery, and some of their time apart - and how their relationship and this accident has destroyed Adam, and redefined Mia.  The ending was completely satisfying (I was getting annoyed by their misunderstandings and things left unsaid).  I had almost accepted the fact that Adam had to let her go (but I was going to hate this ending), and then everything opened up.

What I didn't like: The switch to Adam's point of view was great because the reader could probably understand Mia's actions after having read the first book - except Adam's personality changed so much, filled with angst and very little depth - he wasn't even likable any longer.  Their stalling to speak and get to the point was well done, but frustrating.  She knew the words to his songs!  How was that not a clue?  All Adam's assumptions about Mia were so bitter they were frustrating.  His final realization that he had to let her go was frustrating too - he had been blaming Mia the whole time, and I kind of blamed her too.

What I would have liked to read: I think I may have preferred Mia's perspective at times and kept Adam mysterious and chivalrous.


Quotes: "The band.  When You're with the band, I already have to share you with everyone.  I don't want to add my family to that pot, too."  Then she lost the battle and started to cry.  All my annoyance melted. "You dumb-ass," I crooned, kissing her on the forehead.  "You don't share me.  You own me."

Rating: 4 of 5

where I lived #4

In the fall of 1995 I moved to Belmar, Missouri - a small trailer park type community - the homes were cheap and simple.  Small ranch ramblers - uniformly lining the streets with attached garages and cement pad driveways.  It was in a flat plain, but low set - so there was a constant smell of mildew in the area.

From the entryway there was a small living room directly on the right, and a kitchen straight ahead, with a dining room in-between completing the small circle.  There may or may not have been a sliding door that looked out into the backyard where a couple of spaniels ran around - hyper but good hunting dogs.

To the left of the entryway was a bathroom on the right my room on the left, and there must have been two more bedrooms at the end - but I can't quite picture these anymore.  There are a lot of details in the home I can't picture.  I know there was a basement with another bedroom.  I can picture the double sink in the kitchen, and under the sink in the bathroom.  I can picture my bed with its pink comforter and high set mattress with posts - I loved that bed, but can't picture the dresser, closet, or even the window in the room.

I had come to Kansas City for a discipleship program through a megachurch my brother Seth was a part of.  The one-year program gave Bible training and students were placed with host families connected through the church.

My host family was a couple both on their second marriage.  The father was a mechanic and former baseball pitcher with three boys.  The mother was a former musician and she could play the clarinet beautifully.  She was 40 or 41 and still hoping to have a baby, particularly she wanted a girl and so she was quite enthusiastic about having a girl in the house for practice.

I was driving a red 4-door 1986 Chevy Cavalier.  Two other students lived in the Belmar neighborhood and we carpooled for the ten-minute ride to church. School was 7am until lunch, and after lunch was typically filled with service projects.  Our Saturday mornings were devoted to helping our host family, Sunday mornings will filled different posts in the church (including parking attendants), and Mondays we were free.

It was a a year of service and study.  It was where I got pranked and my car was filled with snow.  Its where my friends cheered me on in Basketball matches.  It was where I took a road trip to Colorado to help my brother.   It was where I took a road trip to Nebraska one day when I got lost.  It was where I got the nickname, Shu Shu.  And, it was where I remembered how to be happy and beautiful.

emergency routine check up

Our school has a doctor and a nurse.  The nurse is there everyday, the doctor comes a few times a week for a few hours.  I thought that was awesome when I learned this the first week I started my job and went in hopes of a prescription for an eye drop or cream for my red eye and something for my stomach that was not adjusting to the food well.  He said,

"Yes, many teacher's have this problem the first week of school."

"They do?"

"Yes, because they are not used to talking."

".... (blink blink)... my eye and my stomach I'm talking about," I say, pointing.  

"Oh, yes yes - this too."

This too what?  Are you a doctor?  I went one other time because the principal saw me hobbling around with back pain - and suggested I go.  I didn't think there was anything they could give me -  but I went and they put a cream on my lower back.

"Is the pain still there?" he asked.

Um... is the cream magic?  Of course it's still there!

"You will feel better soon."

So I've learned 1) he can't speak English well, and 2) he's not so concerned about his patients - so I should avoid him at all costs.  But our school had to do wellness checkups, most likely for our health insurance policy.  They did mine just before maternity leave - checking breathing, heart rate, pulse, eyes, and throat - asking basic history questions than having me sign something so they could pre-date and file it.  (I guess the paper was some six months late).

Today they called me to come to the health center.  I received the message via a sticky note on my desk and didn't think much of it.  I edited a paper, had lunch, and pumped milk.  In that time, the health center called five times.  Each time more urgent.  I never actually spoke to them, so I didn't know what they needed - but it didn't matter - I still couldn't go because after pumping milk I had to go directly to my next class.  One of my students asked to go to the nurse, and I directed him to pass on the message that I would come as soon as my lesson was finished.  

She sent a message back that this was too late.  

I shrugged.  

I got a text from Isil to go to the nurses office right after class.

A teacher came to my door and told me in person the same message.

I had forgotten this about Turkey and my school.  I forgot that there is a ranking of class here and this ranking is really important.  I forgot the doctor is considered an important person.  That the expected response when a doctor or principal or any "superior" is to be immediate no matter how illogical, because respecting the position comes first.  

But that just wasn't how I thought.  I thought, okay, I have to edit this, eat lunch, pump milk, teach a lesson - then I'll go.  But by the time my lesson was over - I was told it was an emergency.  I kind of knew it wasn't - I figured someone was late on paperwork again and the doctor had to go somewhere and the like.  I realized at this point lots of people had gotten involved in my situation and were flabbergasted as to why I hadn't shown up yet - and I was really tempted to have it out with just about anyone.  I have been here for ten days.  You called me two hours ago and I have a job to do - just like you - so THIS is not an emergency.  DO NOT disrespect my time or my job because of YOUR mistake.  

Instead, I walked quickly over to the health center.  I walked into the doctor's office and hesitated because another person was waiting outside the door - but the doctor looked at me and said,

"Kos!"  (Run!)  As in run to him, I guess.  I took two steps to the chair sat down as he proceeded to molest me.

"Breathe.  Breathe. Breathe.  Breathe. Breathe.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Breathe. Breathe."  (He was really thorough on the breath sounds and I was hyperventilating) . I still hadn't said a word, I was kind of stunned by the whole drama.  He looked at my hands, front and back - and gave me Turkish gesture that indicates very good.  (My hands??)   He looked in my eyes with a light, he looked in my mouth, and then said,

"Now give attention to your artery."  And he was gone - out the door in a run with the person, maybe his wife or daughter, who had been waiting.  

Huh?

The nurse took out a blood pressure cuff.

Oh. 

She measured my pressure and pulse - I forgot to even ask her this because I was still just sitting back watching all of this happen and shaking my head.  Why was this so urgent?  Why today and not yesterday or the day before or last week?  If they lie about the date, why won't they lie about the actual "physical" and I'm putting that in quotes, because I'm not sure what he did could qualify as a physical.

She indicated for me to sign the paper.

"Do you want me to check the information?" I asked.

"No need," she said.

"Okay. Um.. but, just so you know, I have three children now, not two."

choosing to love

This topic was sparked by yesterday's book review where the 16 year old main character was so maturely and deeply discussing how she chooses to love each day, each lie, each blah blah blah.

I hope I'm not being reckless or arrogant here because I surely do not want to be proven wrong - but I don't understand this sentiment of choosing to love your significant other.  It implies that you may not want to.  I CHOSE to love my husband.  It's a done deal.  Our love IS (mashallah - god willing).  It is in action each day.  Saying you have to choose to love when the other lies, makes a mistake, argues with you, etc. - is implying that you may choose not to when the other makes a mistake, so then I have to ask - was this really love then?

You could say you're choosing love over resentment, anger, hatred, etc.  But then again, this to me doesn't seem to be about the significant other at all - but about personal decisions.  It is the individual that chooses a loving reaction versus an angry one - but do these moments add up to you choosing to love your spouse?  Without a doubt, if you were to choose over and over again angry, resentful, jealous, unforgiving behavior - this would take a huge toll on any relationship, and potentially destroy it - but these small selfish, proud, and unforgiving choices were the mistakes.  They were faults in oneself that my grow into habits that will inevitably show up everywhere else in life (it's just the spouse will get the brunt of it).

So I'm thinking we've got a wrong picture of love here.  It's not choosing to love you in spite of this or that - it's the reverse - it's choosing love first, and actions flowing from this choice.  You react out of love, out of the love your relationship is founded in.  Our love in this world is broken, incomplete, and falls short - but we all understand how love empowers us, how it covers our mistakes and does not bring shame.  How deep love frees us from doubt, insecurities, jealousy, and lies.

I'm realizing how I need to choose to love in my daily life - this is not about my husband (I've already chosen him) - but in the way I speak, spend, work, and play - being grounded in Love is a powerful weapon that I want at my disposal so that I can live free.

Allegiant - review

In the last book in the series - the main character has gone from divergent where she learned she was different, special, and because of this - in danger.  Then, insurgent, where Tris and friends fight the evil leaders of various factions fighting for power.  And now Tris is an allegiant - as in allegiant to the original purpose of the city: to raise up an army of divergents and send them out to help heal the world.  The book begins with the characters first under scrutiny for their  treasonous acts - revealing the truth - which they are excused.  Some stay to form a rebel group to fight the faction less, while Tris and a few friends are commissioned to scout out the outside world.  They are picked up and brought to a compound (Chicago O'Hare), where they learn their whole city has been part of an experiment by the Bureau of Genetic Welfare to heal the genetically damaged.  They learn that city was part of an experiment trying to raise up more genetically pure.  This future world was in its current state because in an attempt to eradicate unwanted behaviors, gene experimentation had been performed - but they quickly learned the mistake of this for if one gene was increased (let's say curiosity and learning) another was compromised (compassion).  What ensued after generations was a division in humanity between the "genetically damaged" and the "genetically pure".  The compound Tris becomes a part of is desperately trying to keep the experiments alive, at all costs, for seeming good - but Tris and her friends find the Bureau's deception and control just as evil as all they have lived through thus far, and decided to fight.

What I liked: I have enjoyed the series, following the characters in this future world.  I liked how the author answered my questions of what happened after that, and what happened after that .... (I tend to to want extended endings, like when Lord of the Rings had like fifty endings it seemed, and I needed them all).  The author wrapped up neatly, philosophically, and with some redemption - just how I like it.  I liked the idea of a world within a world - it was a good plot twist.  The idea of the "genetically pure" and the genetically damaged" while simple and too overt in the way they operated on their belief systems:  "I'm better" and "There's something wrong with me" - is very much like the world today.   It got me thinking not about racial/class/ etc. divisions but how people in this world like to consider themselves as good (or better than others) or damaged - while the whole point of needing Jesus is recognizing that we are all damaged - we all need help, not because we aren't good enough - but because we are worth it.

What I didn't like: A lot actually.  I have lots of questions about this third book - it seemed to have too many inconsistencies.  Like Tris and Four's relationship - it was so sweet, and suddenly Four is the one making bad decisions and they are having weird trust issues.  They resolve this and realize they have to "choose to love" each other each day - and I don't buy it because 1) they are a bit young to already be having to choose to love each other, and 2) I have a thing about that sentiment of choosing to love someone.  The tension in the people seems to be a take off on the 1970 blue eye/brown eye experiment - it's a bit too manufactured for TV - the genetically damaged versus the genetically pure.  Some things didn't work logically either.  Like the idea that many generations didn't venture out of the city - the book explained that a few did, and had their memories reset - but it wasn't believable that more wouldn't try - isn't it human nature to explore?  Or that no character in the book made the connection that the genetically pure people were bad too - making lopsided decisions without compassion or remorse - exhibiting the same problems as the genetically damaged.  Also, I'm not sure I liked the flip-flopping point of view between Tobias and Tris - I think I preferred one character's, and keeping Tobias a bit mysterious.  I didn't like the killing off of the main character either - maybe it had to be done, but the good-bye scene between Tris and Four was so obvious that their plan that didn't appear so dangerous, was going to end with one of them dying.  It was a made for film moment - and thus done terribly with extremely sentimental out of place lines about love and worth, giving such closure to their relationship that is wasn't believable.  (Whereas the parting with Caleb was much more believable because it was in an instant, caught by surprise moment - as life is..)

Quotes:
"...we cannot possibly be as large as we feel . . . so small as to be negligible" (upon realizing their city's size in relation to the world)
"Isn't looking at the result of a belief a good way of evaluating if it's true?"
"I know what people who are stained with violence look like."

Terrible lines:
"Just leaving so that you can have the last word, that's really mature!"
"So is being suspicious of someone's motives just because she's pretty... I guess we're even."
"I stay with him because I choose to, every day that I wake up, every day that we fight or lie to each or disappoint each other.  I choose him over and over again, and he chooses me."

Cheesy ending sentiment that I liked: 
"Life damages us, every one.  We can't escape that damage.  But now, I am also learning this: We can be mended."

Rating: 4 of 5

Eymir Lake fundraising event

My school was having a function this morning that we were required to attend.  It was a fundraiser (I think) for the handicapped and all were wearing shirts that had the word englesiz "without disability" which I never got a clear answer on what the message was there - (or exactly why we were biking around a lake for handicapped people).

I didn't actually feel obligated to go - I'm sure my absence would have been overlooked with my infant at home and the imminent rain this morning, or even using Teoman's sickness would have been enough to cancel.  But I had wanted to go with the whole family - it's a fun place to walk, and even though Teoman and Tolga stayed home together - I put the double stroller and the girls in the car with me.  (Sides note - my girls, my daughters - that's fun to say).  

They had announced to meet at 8:30 at a certain gate - and true to my school's terrible communication skills - they were not at that gate.  The even started at 9:30, and I was wandering up and down the road with a whole bunch of other people looking for our group.  Most were sitting having tea in the gardens next to one of the many bicycle rental place kiosks.  I walked with several others from school to where our crew was - passing the "start" of the event which consisted of our gym teacher / assistant principal on a bike with a bull horn.  It didn't seem like a good turn out with the weather and all.  

I went in the garden and found different ones from our English department spread out at three different tables - oddly separated from each other in their own cliques, drinking tea and smoking.  I knew our department was broken, but I thought we just divided by our grade levels.  I made the rounds saying hello to the different groups, the principal coming to say hi and see the baby along with this woman in administration who I always see but I don't know her function.  (Administration is much more disconnected with the daily happenings of school than American schools, or maybe public schools).  Other teachers came by to see the the girls and I sat with some friends and drank tea - no one in the garden seemed keen on actually walking around the 12 km lake - but we did enjoy the short time together before the rains came.

eating simit and cream cheese

a peacock!

sick kids again

Teoman and Tomris come up with some of the best one-liners - like toddlers do.  I'm going to be more purposeful to write them down because out of context they are even more unbelievable and sweet.  

Tomris said - "Wait a minute!" She was busy with taking the Paw Patrol
characters up the elevator and down the slide.

Like today, Teoman couldn't nap - so we sat in the living room with our guitars for a jam session.  I suggested "Twinkle Twinkle" or "Leaving and a Jet Plane" (or as Tomris says: "Leaving on a Jet Plane Don't Know When I'll Be Back Again" song).  

"No, I want to sing my song."

"The Batman Song."

"I don' t know that song, how does it go?"

"Batman (strum strum) is a hero (strum strum)"  We played this song for a while.  Teoman gets a far off look in his eyes and sings sometimes words, sometimes just notes, most of the time it's not connected - but he is strums on.  

Both kids are sick with snotty noses, and Teoman's had a dry incessant cough.  This evening, he fell asleep early, but continued to cough in his sleep - eventually vomiting his dinner and medicines he had taken on the bed.  I took him to our overstuffed armchair in his room to hold him upright to help with the coughing and be near the humidifier.  He continued coughing and gagging.  I put him in his bed, went and got some vapor rub to spread on his back and chest - he coughed and threw up on his pillow and went back to sleep.  I cleaned his pillow, and came back and he was coughing and sitting up, gagging and tears in his eyes,

"Mommy!" was all he could say.  His nose was stuffy, he couldn't sleep, and he couldn't stop coughing.  Tolga was in the other room with our over-energetic 2 1/2 year old but came in asking if we should take him to the hospital.  I'm quicker to agree these days because it's not as dramatic as it sounds and why hold out?  So Tolga changed and Gokhan went with to sit in the back with Teoman.  I stayed with Tomris (who was crying, "I'm sick too! (cough cough)  I have to go to the hospital!") and Tuana (who has been going down for the night at 8pm each incredible night).  

They called us from the hospital a bit later.  Tomris wanted to talk to him.  She spoke to him in Turkish and asked,

"Are you at the hospital?  Did you cry?"

They were giving Teoman more antihistamine, an anti-inflammatory, and a nebulizer treatment - a hose blowing steam to help open his lungs up, and then a second treatment where they probably gave him a steroid in the nebulizer.  He has laryngitis - which I thought was reserved just for people who lose their voice, and edema - which is swelling but I thought that goes without saying once diagnosing laryngitis - but I don't know.  The doctor said we didn't need to give him the ibuprofen (as I did) , and that we should keep him from  the changing temperatures, keep him out of the cold especially.  

I feel quite prejudice with doctors and treatments here.  I was annoyed she disagreed with my giving ibuprofen and then gave an anti-inflammatory herself.  I was annoyed at the prevalent cold fear that was even a part of now medical advice.  What is this laryngitis and edema anyhow?  Don't we just call it a cough in America?

But, I don't mind their treatments - maybe it was more aggressive than what they'd do in America (which would probably be nothing), but Teoman came back happy and fell right asleep.

where I lived #1 part 2

I was recalling the details of my first home.  The details were to spark smells, memories, relationships, and so on ... and they sure do.  Each detail seems to hold hundreds of memories, but I will not go off on all those tangents now - I will only complete the description of from where I lived #1

There was a hallway at the top of the stairwell. Adjacent to the stairs was my parents bedroom.  One day my hand trailed behind me in the doors hinge where I gripped absently as I was about to go down the stairs.  My brother Josh was running from my mother and from some punishment and he slammed this door behind him along with three of my fingers.  I screamed but was helpless to reach across my body with my other hand to reach the door - I couldn't reopen it and Josh was hesitant to open it himself.  To this day I don't know how my fingers were not broken or hardly even scraped.  Their bedroom had a built in closet, a king sized bed that we all crawled into or slept on the floor in front of at some point in our childhood.  Their bed was where a lot of sickness was spent - Aaron's broken collarbone, somebody throwing up, bad dreams or bad days.  Their room had a window that looked over the front yard and later, the only air conditioner in the house for those hot and humid summers.  They had a full bathroom with another window that looked into the front yard.  The boys' room was across the stairs.  It had blue carpet and window looking out the backyard.  It was Seth's room, and later Josh's and finally Aaron's.  All the rooms had built-in closets with the same folding wood doors.  To the right of the stairs at the end of the hall were three rooms.  A small room to the left was mine, and later, Sherah's crib was added, and even later an office.  It also had a closet a window looking over the backyard and window looking over the backside of the garage roof.  It had peach carpet.  A hamper sat in-between this door, the end of the hallway, and the other two doors - one to what I remember mainly as mine and Sherah's room.  It had green carpet, and I think Aaron and Josh shared it before us - but most of my memories are Sherah and I in this room.  At that time in our lives we fought, but never seriously.  We did silly things like drew a line down the center of the room, or tugged on each others' blankets, or put a glow-in-the-dark bracelet on the cat so we could see him before he attacked us at night.  This room had two windows too - one looking out the front, and the second over the front side of the garage roof.  (I always figured Aaron was out of luck when it came to fire safety because we had the proper two exits and he only had one).

I guess I should have originally stated our house was a 4-bedroom, 2 1/2 bath home on 10 acres with a pole barn.  I still don't know what a pole barn is.  My guess is it's a tin structure that looks like a barn, but actually is a large garage to park tractors, extra trucks, and store more tools.

We had a two car garage that with both doors open we'd bike or skate endlessly in circles through the garage onto the cement pad out front, and back into the garage.  The garage was lined with tools and its attic seemed to constantly be housing a new batch of kittens (which I loved and my father hated).  The garage smelled like grease and a propane heater in the winter, sawdust and oil in the summer - two smells I will always associate with my dad.  To the right of the garage was a simple high wooden fence that served as the backside of a wooden frame with a plywood lid that housed three garbage bins.  Three solar panels sat on this side of the house as well, from my father's years at Solargizer.  An huge ugly propane tank sat here as well.  We'd climb on it and sit as if it were a horse.

My mother had done a lot of planting on our land - something I didn't appreciate until I was much older, and now I like her, wish to go back to that land and see how the all the fruit trees she planted had fared.  I supposed they have grown and died by now, but when I was young, the years passed to slowly to wait for trees to grow.

She also had a 42-bush rose garden on the south side of our yard.  I know it was 42 bushes because our Mother's Day "gift" each year was being forced to uncover each bush in the garden.  The bushes had been pruned and buried in dirt and hay in order to survive Minnesota's Deep Freeze.  Clearing the hay was easy enough, but clearing the dirt had to be done by hand in order to not further damage the branches.  And those branches had thorns and gloves couldn't stop the endless pricking (and complaining) or those stuck with the job.  Our backyard hills were big for a child's legs to climb on a snowy day.  The back hill and the side hill were the largest and we sledded, tubed, skied and built forts and jumps all around this yard.  In the summer we laid a large tarp down the hill - a tarp that finished to early and grass and mud became the slides end.

There seemed to be patches of woods everywhere.  A patch of woods was directly behind our house, so small it served only as a devision between the side hills that met at the bottom into our garden.  It was a large flat stretch that my mom had planted many things for years, including trenches for asparagus that never grew and a raspberry patch that was reluctant to die.  I dreamed of (and actually started at one point) building a pool down here - I thought it was the perfect spot and figured it couldn't be too hard - dig a hole, put some rocks in the bottom, maybe by a huge piece of tarp.  I shoveled the outline of the pool and only dreamed up the rest.

The north side of our yard had to gentle slopes, one from the front of the house, and another into the back of our house.  The north side itself was line with pine trees on its edge - the line between our yard and the field - planted to shield from the cold north wind and unbelievable wind chill.  The flat area between the pine trees and our house is where I learned to hold a bat, lefty like my father, and hit the ball off a tee - a large road cone, which - come to think of it - and I wonder where we got.  It's where we played a lot of catch and played ball as best we could with only a batter a pitcher and a fielder at best.

Directly across from our house was a small hill that hid the private drive behind it - where it continued onto the third neighbor whom I never really knew.  This hill was perfect arched like a brontosaurus's back - and I imagined for many years this would be my archeological find.  (And I knew this was absurd, which was why it would be such an ingenious find - because I insist on looking for such an anomaly as this).  To the left of the hill was another patch of woods, and one of the large trees held a swing - a swing we hardly used and for some reason was hardly a part of my childhood.  I remember the place more for it being where we buried our dog Ingamar.  A fat yellow labrador retriever that passed horrible gas, was a good hunter, was run over three times (once by my mom), and broke it's leg at least once.  He was a good dog, loyal and gentle.  He died in the winter time, and Seth built a fire to soften the ground in order to dig a hole.  He was Seth's dog, for it was Seth that sent posters out and somehow got on the radio pleading for help in finding his dog when Ingmar was still young and wild and had run off.  My father found that dog some month's later running with a pack near our cousins house.  He whistled and our dog came home and didn't leave ever again.

Someone put a stone there to mark the spot.

school allergy

I've gotten headaches since I was five years old.  I remember reading the aspirin bottle at six years old and seeing the medicine was for 12 years old and over or you were at risk for something called Reye's Syndrome.
I figured that's why my parents only gave me half an aspirin.  I couldn't swallow it, so I'd chew it up.  It got to the point where I didn't mind the taste at all.
I have strong memories of laying in bed crying, missing dinner, waiting for my dad to get home, many time ending with puking in the toilet.  Vomiting always released some of the crazy pain build-up, and from that point the pounding would slowly ebb.  My father would come up to my room and put his hand on my forehead and pray for me - between the pressure of his hand and the peace of prayer I remember often getting relief with this as well.  To the point where I would in bed with headache, hear my father come home, and wonder why he wasn't coming upstairs right away.  Didn't he know I was dying up here?!  I remember one particular time when it didn't work.  I was tossing and turning and trying to settle down with his hand on my hand and I finally threw his hand away unable to lay still or tolerate any touch.  This is the only time I remember someone else in my family being involved besides my mom or dad - Seth, my oldest brother was there, and he suggested I turn over on my stomach and he rubbed my shoulders.  I was quite young, at the age where a shoulder massage was something old people loved, not me - but it worked.

As I've gotten older, the migraine headaches decreased to maybe one or two a year, to quite rarely.  I was better at heading them off, because some of it surely came from overdoing it physically.  My migraines also became very predictable in their progress: pounding increasing, nausea, hot and sweating, throwing up, just pounding, cold and shivering, then the euphoric feeling of the pain lifting and me in a weird calm state where I didn't want to move or disturb the peace.  It was a relatively fast process - maybe an hour, I think that's why I would get cold and shivering - or sort of shock reaction to such fast extreme changes.

I was always thankful they were quick, but the last two times have not been, and I'm not sure what changed other than pregnancy with Tuana.

Last night was one of those.  Came home with a headache, not bad - but I laid down.  I think I laid down on a bad pillow - to still for my neck, and I woke up with my headache A LOT worse.  Tolga was just back from the field and the kids were squealing with excitement.  I had picked up Tuana to nurse her and I was laying on the bed.  The kids came running in and jumped on the bed.  Teoman and Tomris came in close.
Faces and noises.  Ugh...
Tolga took them away to let me rest, and I realized it was a migraine.  It wasn't just the pounding and the uneasy feeling.  It was the fact that with the pillow over my head, the sound of the zipper of his suitcase made me almost go mad, setting things on the counter, clangs and bangs.  Tolga pushed me to put something in my stomach, sometimes this helps - I came out to the dinner table and turned around - way too many smells.  I thought maybe I could sit down for tea - but the whole room was overstimulating.

I threw up a lot, went to sleep, got up threw up some more, took a shower, laid down - each time I got up I was queasy and weak.  And I felt cold the whole time.  My body was all out of whack, but it finally lifted sometime in the night.

I'm not sure what set it off.  School was pretty overstimulating this week I guess.  (I used to always  say I was allergic to school).  I came home, ate a cookie, drank a small fruit smoothie, and ate a lokum.  

That was a mistake.

I think next time I'll just let Tolga take me to the hospital - it's easy here, they just give you shot and send you home.  I'll be like - I got kids at home, make it quick!

Youth Day, and Ataturk's birthday

May 19th is a holiday in Turkey.  Technically, it's called Commemoration of Ataturk, Youth and Sports Day - like an 8th grade paragraph, two seemingly unrelated topics in the same sentence.

It is the day Ataturk landed in Samsun.  

Oh, that day.

Let me put it this way - it's Lexington and Concord.  Ataturk left Istanbul with the commission to disband the Ottoman Army in agreement with a treaty.  Instead, when he landed in Samsun on May 19th,  he began the Turkish National Movement (the title given to encompass all that follows) - and in Ataturk's mind - this is the day that the war for Turkish Independence began.  Ataturk though this date should be remembered, and so he dedicated this date to Turkey's youth - and thus Youth and Sports Day was born.  Ataturk also referred to this date as the day he was born, and later, the holiday was dedicated to celebrate Ataturk as well.  Thus the comma.  

Our school always holds ceremonies (as do all school around the country), and they are filled with song, dance, poetry, and readings.  I can't understand most of it .. but I always enjoy it - the combination of the arts.  Especially music and dance - it always moves my soul.  I wanted to play cello today, sing in the choir, to hold my chin out and do a pirouette, and be filled with the grace (and flexibility) of an athlete.  (Big sigh).

Oh well.  I have this:

I'm 13 weeks old!

And this:

siblings!

I will do music again for them.  And sports.  Strength and beauty for them.

LOVE

my school

 

middle on the right, high school in the distance, administrative stuff on left

My tasks today were to take four classes, split them with a teacher, and practice speaking.  But, instead I took one class, observed the second because the teacher had something planned, substituted a third, and went to a concert the fourth.

That's a typical day in my school - you have to be flexible because things are always changing.  I'm not sure if it's due to bad planning, or bad communication.  Just another question floating around my day.  

observing a class

elementary school

my former students singing 

The concert was the first time I had seen some of my old students, and I'm still coming across lots of teachers I haven't seen since being back as well.  It's quite fun getting the enthusiastic waves from the kids and big hugs and kisses from colleagues.  I told small group I felt a bit guilty for coming back tanned and relaxed in the midst of everyone's end-of-the-year exhaustion.  And I was so graciously told, "No, it is refreshing to see you."

The kids were quite cute, singing (and clapping and stomping) with great discipline and facial enthusiasm.  There were instruments as well and while it will never match the legendary orchestra, choir and band of my high school - it always makes me so happy to see.

Except when a middle schooler inevitably tries to use the time to debut as if it's Sesiz Turkey (Turkey's version of American Idol).  This time is was two seventh grade girls singing Bang Bang - a song I had never heard before but presumably is popular now.  I usually don't listen closely to the words, but my two American colleagues kept commenting on their embarrassment over the music selections at lunchtime - how the songs made them blush.  And it was awkward with their chorus going "Bang bang into the room, you know you want it".  

CUT! CUT!

But it only got worse.  It's a good thing they ended with a jazz piece, hopefully that will stick in everyone's mind more.

At home, this evening, Zuleyha's husband came by to pick her up and say hi to the kids.  He stops by every once and a while, and we haven't seen him since the baby's been born.  He loves the kids as much as Zuleyha and Teoman jumped on him and Tomris copied after getting past her shyness.  We had Turkish coffee and then escorted them downstairs.  Teoman wanted to show Ahmet our new Toyota.  I brought the keys and Teoman and Tomris crawled around the car like bugs.  He showed them the seats, the trunk and the steering wheel.  We went out to the street to look at their new car as well - a 2013 Toyota - a big purchase for them as well.  Teoman said, "I know, we can have a picnic together - you take your car, and we'll take ours!"

So a picnic it will be.

First time seeing Tuana ... she was close to crying

so many questions

One part about living in Turkey, and probably any foreign country, is I often find myself walking around with a ton of unanswered questions.  Let me just give you a few from the past two days.

Two hours after school started: What will I be teaching today?  What's my schedule?  When can I leave?

Upon being tasked to prepare students for a high school English speaking entrance exam: Are all the teacher's teaching the same thing?  Are we following some sort of rules or guidelines or formulas to reinforce practice?  (Shouldn't we?)   What are we looking for in their speech?  How does the high school mark it?  How can I be sure to evaluate something so subjective in the same way?


I write these questions down because they are questions you'd think would have clear straightforward answers . . . but for whatever reason they don't.  They never do.  I spent the first couple hours hunting down people to give me a job - the department head sent me to the principal who sent me to the assistant principal who sent me back to the department head.  She gave me a task, but wasn't sure of the answers to the questions I had - in fact, she seemed a bit thrown by them.  I feel as if I am walking around with a big question mark on my forehead.  But I've learned, as well, to accept constant uncertainty - because, I don't need to know everything.  It would be nice to know what I'm teaching that day - but if it wasn't urgent for my superiors - it didn't need to urgent for me.  I've had to let go of a lot of control - and I don't see that as a bad thing.

Here are some more questions I had for the day:

Waiting at the bank with a ticket number in my hand: Why are there so many different numbers?  Are the numbers categorized for different banking issues?  Why are there so many people waiting and some bankers just sitting there?  Are the people waiting for a specific banker?  Is this specific banker better than the other bankers?  Why is the security guy by-passing the pinging numbers to bring me to a banker?  Why is he bringing me to the new guy banker?  (Why is no one else waiting for him?)

In the HR office: Why are there so many people working here now?  (What exactly does HR in Turkey do?)  Why am I writing a note about my leave of absence?  Why am I writing another note in Turkish about quitting?  Why must I turn in my work visa?

In general: Why do people keep telling me in Turkish "Hic bir sey kalmamis" (you have nothing to show) and "Karnen gecti" (you're belly's gone) and the like?  (And, why is everyone stealing looks at my belly?)

By the way, there is still a belly, I'm heavier than I've EVER been, and I'm not comfortable with the stolen looks to my belly - I didn't mind when there was a baby there, but there's not a baby - just belly - STOP SIZING ME UP!  On the positive side, with the continuous comments I'm remembering more often to suck it all in - I justify it as core strengthening - not vain at all.

back to work

I didn't sleep well in anticipation for my first day back.  I realize there is only a month left of school and very little for me to do - but leaving Tuana (will she take a bottle?), working out my new schedule and "milk permission",  informing people I'm leaving this year ... it all made for a restless sleep.

I had two goals for my first day: pump milk and leave early.  I had sent a message the evening before to my English Department head asking about my schedule.  In Turkey, mother's get a daily leave of an hour-and-a-half to go and feed their babies.  It's strange and insufficient for a newborn, but it's something.  My English Department head didn't want to give me a straight answer and referred me to the principal.  She didn't want to take responsibility for a decision' and communication quickly becomes oddly broken and polite at the same time when I'm searching for an answer or decision.  In the morning I said hello to the principal and she referred me to the Assistant Principal.  She said hello to me, reminded me I had an hour-and-a-half permission and referred me back to the English Department head.

My courses will be for the next two weeks supporting eighth grade teachers - pulling out half a class or individuals to do some speaking practice with them.  I only taught one class and really enjoyed it as they were all former students of mine.  I successfully pumped 225 ml of milk, and left school at 2:30.

Tuana struggled with her bottle throughout the day, but with curiosity, and eventually drank it all.

She just seemed slightly betrayed when I came home.  She didn't say so - but I could see it in her eyes...

back to life...

I can't believe how tired I am today, and maybe a little depressed.  I am not ready to start work tomorrow.  I usually am ... but this time, well it has been so sweet to be together as a family.

Today the kids rediscovered their toys.  Tolga did a big grocery shopping, car wash, and gas fill.  I unpacked, washed clothes, put things away, rearranged things, stared at things, made some food, walked in circles, wished we had more closets or less stuff or something, tried on clothes to see what fits for going back to work.  This is how I deal with stress - I try to organize things, but I wasn't working so well today.

Ooofta.  I'm not looking forward to this.

back to Ankara

another late morning for most of us

Packing wasn't supposed to be difficult.  Tolga and I leave a set of old lounge-around-the-house and work-in-the-garden type clothes here.  But the kids got presents from Baba and their cousins, I bought presents, I got presents, I had bought a couple things for the house.   We had my clothes, Tolga's clothes and the the three kids' clothes.  A bouncy chair.  Car stuff.  Car seat stuff.  Drinks and snacks and diapers and wet wipes.  Somehow - the car was full - Tolga and I in the front, Tomris and Tuana and bags in the middle row, Teoman in the trunk/third row - one seat folded down for more trunk space.

It's a nine hour drive to Kusadasi.  Tolga is used to long roads - driving to locations around Turkey all the time for his job.  He's not a smooth driver - but he is alert and much more aware than I to the unpredictability of Turkish drivers - so he usually drives the whole way and I usually feed everyone the whole way.  

While the road is nine hours, we often take 11 or 12 with the kids - stopping at least three times for gas, food, bathroom or a good looking playground.  Tomris was the first to need an emergency potty break at the side of the road.  It was raining and I held her and she looked at me trying to figure out if I was joking or not.  Teoman had just started peeing standing up - and she couldn't understand why she couldn't do the same.  So Tolga and I were in tears laughing as I tried to hold her squatting over the shoulder drop off.  

Pee everywhere.

We stopped a short while later for the boys to use the toilet.  Then 2/3 of the way home at a McDonald's that has an indoor playground.  (The kids kept saying "I remember this!")  They played while Tolga ran and bought special lokum, sucuk, and Starbucks - all special to the area (including the Starbucks because its the only one en route.  

We didn't make home until almost 1 am (we had left at 1pm - so stayed true to our twelve hour travel).  Only Tomris wasn't excited to be home.  (She had woken up about ten minutes before we got home and peed all over her car seat).

keeping herself busy in the car

They are both impressed with the windmills

It was rainy travel weather - and beautiful

three rows of seats being used here - somehow we are full!

to the beach

white mulberry tree

This was our last full day in Kusadasi.  We got up late, ate slowly, slowly prepared to go to the beach - there was no rush - just creams to apply, swimsuits to fit, sand toys and beach towels to collect, snacks to pack.  It was 1pm before we finally ambled out the door.

picking mulberries

playing in the sand

The day was muggy and hovering between 26-28 degrees Celsius.  It was windy and so wavy.  The water is quite warm in the summertime, so if felt cool today - but Tolga was jumping in with the kids.  They ran and splashed in the waves, were busy with the toys, and snacking.  We rented lounge chairs and Tomris snuggled up with a towel and fell asleep in her Baba's lap.  

I eventually made it in too - I used to just die to go to the sea - I HAD to go everyday.  These days, I am just as content to sit on the beach - but when I finally swam, I remembered how much I love the sea - particularly this Aegean Sea.
The water feels soft.  If there's such a thing.
It is turquoise.
I don't have to worry about scary fish.
The sun is bright, the water refreshing

Life and joy and thankfulness all fill my soul even in those few moments in the sea.

she had a good nap after a swim

loving the beach

I enjoyed it too

laying at the beach

we all did