These two: just had another round of pure tens on their report cards.

I'm so proud of them.
It's not about the tens, really . . . the truth is, that their education  in the Mexican public school system is not all the rigorous; I expect my kids to be able to master the academic concepts being presented to them . . .

But these tens! They signify so much more than memorized information; they are reminders to me of how hard they have worked to figure out another system! The concepts of creativity, order, and authority are just so different at school than they are at home . . . and the tens remind me that they have learned how to communicate respect to their teachers, that they have learned to manage their notebooks in just the right Mexican way . . . that they have learned to get work done in a classroom that is often noisy and chaotic.

Well done, my loves, well done!

There was a robbery in one of the apartments in our building last week.  Our neighbor posted a notice in the entryway yesterday - calling all the neighbors to a meeting tonight. I'm pretty sure that we're going to be having some heated discussions about locking practices for the entryway door.  

I'm totally bringing chocolate chip cookies.  

It was Sunday morning, and I had just pulled myself out of bed.  Selma had already been up for an hour. She had cleaned the bathroom, fluffed the pillows on the couch, and was trying to decide between pants or a skirt to wear for the day.  

I had barely splashed cold water on my face, and had started to pile the plates and forks on the table when Selma spoke up:  "So. How are we going to do this baby shower today?  When EXACTLY are we going to play the games? before or after dessert?"  

"Um . . ." I mumbled "I don't really know; I haven't decided yet"

"What!?" Selma looked at me in disbelief "Mama! how can you not know!? Aren't YOU the one planning the baby shower?" 

cough, cough 

In defense of myself, however, I have to say . . . 

Who could have planned for the mama-to-be to disappear into my guest room mid-shower to take an hour nap? (she totally needed it)

It wasn't in the schedule for the papa-to-be to pull Joshua's guitar off the wall and organize an impromptu singing session with all the guests; but he did (and it was awesome) 

I didn't have enough forks or plates for dessert, but one of my guests placed herself on permanent kitchen duty and cheerfully washed everything while I made the coffee (and it was beautiful) 

Not to rub it in, Selma, but I think -that for my creative, quirky, loving, flexible community -I planned just right.*

*But seriously, though, if you need an event coordinator for a more normal group of people.  Selma's your girl.

Joshua: Well babe, yesterday was valentine's day, and I didn't do anything to celebrate it with you*
Me: and yet, yesterday I did feel deeply loved by you
Joshua: happy day after valentine's day
Me: I love you

*although, to be fair, we did spend the entire day with our church family - loving them, and being loved by them . . . and it was beautiful

This picture has nothing to do with this post, except to remind me that I need more pictures of Joshua and me together.

We spent Christmas in Texas with Mom and Papi this year (we haven't spent Christmas with them since - gasp! - before Joshua and I moved to Spain 15 years ago!)

The morning that Papi took Joshua and the boys to the zoo, mom and I ran errands - running errands with mom is always a good thing to do, because it means that you'll get good conversation.

And of course, mom didn't let me down; we were zipping through downtown in mom's red diesel Volkswagen (because that's how my parents roll . . . ) and she said to me: 

"Naomi, you haven't been writing; you should write" 

"I know!" I said,  "but I don't always know what to write about" 

"You should write" she said

"I feel like it's too risky to write about important things, because--what if I'm misunderstood?" I said.

"You should write" she said

"I'm not really the best at summarizing big ideas" I said

"You should write" she said

So tonight, I write. 

(this one's for you, mom)  

*mom makes the best breakfasts . . . and papi always makes the hot chocolate -- he calls it sparkle juice, because it makes your eyes sparkle.

6/52

Malachai:  You submitted a comic to the school newspaper. It was printed (!) . . . but you had some concerns about the quality about the printing.  You slipped out of class as soon as you saw the newspaper so that you could express your concerns to the principal.  To be honest, it always makes me a little bit nervous when you take matters into your own hands . . . but I'm also proud of you; you live passionately, bud.

Josu: You love, love going to the park to play (american) football with Papa. Sometimes the game is put on pause when we run into someone we know. sigh.

Selma:  You told us over dinner that one of the boys in your class asked you to be his girlfriend and his wife.
"What did you say?" I asked
"Oh, I just pretended that I didn't hear him" you said.

check out Jamey and Gab's blogs too;  sheesh . . . I miss my family! 

5/52

Malachai: We had a meeting with your teacher this week to ask her if she had any any recommendations about what jr. high we should send you to next year (public? private? big? little?) She said "I know this about Malachai - he is a great kid; he will thrive anywhere he goes"

Josu: I asked you to stand right in the middle of the sidewalk and I took your picture. You smirked and said "you wanted me to stand here so that you could take a picture of the guy playing guitar, didn't you?" you know me.

Selma: I keep finding you reading books in English.  I haven't worked with you on your English reading at all this year; I'm thankful that you took it into your own hands.  

4/52

Malachai: I don't scrub your uniform quite like the Mexican mamas scrub their kiddo's uniforms. Some of the kids in your class have noticed the spots on your white PE shirt and have been teasing you (seriously!? what in the world?)  I found out that you, on your own, had triple washed a t-shirt, just trying to get the stains out.  I'm sorry, bud; I promise to scrub a little harder;  I'm learning how to fit into this culture too.

Josu: I bought you a tiny, magnetic chess board. You have been taking it to school and inviting kids to play with you during recess. I'm proud of you.

Selma: Ah, you sparkle. . .

check out Gab's post and Jamey's post (they have pretty cute kids!)

3/52

Malachai: You traveled with us to visit some good friends in the city of Guadalajara. It was a quick overnight trip, but it was fun to hang out with just you as we traveled.  On our way home we had breakfast in the airport; you asked for a hamburger.

Josu: We found out this week that your one friend at school has been saying unkind things and telling other kids not to talk to you. You tell us that you spend your recess alone. I'm sorry sweet boy.

Selma: you stayed with our friends Marylin and Marline when we traveled to Guadalajara.  you learned some Spanish tongue twisters; you are driving us crazy as you practice them - but you are really good!

Earlier this week I was tucking Selma into bed and she prayed:
Thank you God!
Because first, we had friends come to our house to hang out and study the bible,
and then we started to be a community,
and then we became a church.
Thank you!

(that pretty much sums it up!)
Our community group has been meeting mid week for the past two years. We've studied the bible together, but we've also done so, so much more than that! We eat together, watch movies together, be become friends with each others' friends. . . we share life together! At the end of 2014, our group began conversations about what it might look like to take on an ecclesial identity. We prayed and fasted, and had long conversations with each other - considering how we could best follow Jesus as individuals and as a group, and we decided that we would step towards forming a church together!

I'm excited  (because genuinely following Jesus with a committed church body is risky and intimate and heart-baring!)

And I'm nervous (because genuinely following Jesus with a committed church body is risky and intimate and heart-baring!)

(but mostly, I'm excited) 

2/52

Malachai: Calvin and Hobbes - it's been a favorite since the day you could pick up a book and flip through the pages yourself.

Josu: You went to campamento this weekend (a one night camping trip . . . on school property); you were so excited to go. I had to pack you a dinner to take with you; you requested a sandwich with jamon serrano - and you asked for it on "good quality bread" - so we went to a fancy bread shop and picked out some fancy bread.

Selma: this is how I find you when I pick you up from school: working on your homework. You like to get things done.

Because you should know: my sisters (Gabrielle and Jamey) write about their crazy-awesome kids too!

1/52

We ended 2014 and began 2015 with guests in our home.
It was good that way.

In the 12 hour break between the first round of guests and the second, I ignored the piles of laundry and dishes and instead frantically messaged my camera using sisters (the ones that were born in to the family AND the ones that married in) - asking if anyone wanted to join me for a 2015 photography project. We settled on a 52 week project (which originated, I think, from this lovely lady); we'll take a portrait of each one of our kids - once a week- through the course of the year. 

Here's my week one...

Malachai: Ah, my boy . . . you are vibrant.  You throw yourself into relationships with reckless abandon; you love to tell everyone about everything that you are reading and learning. You spent your entire Christmas break reading Harry Potter out-loud to Josu and Selma (complete with British accents!)

Josu: You are so very tender - - always paying attention to detail. I made chicken salad for your end-of-the-year class meal - just like your teacher asked me to.  You weren't very excited about my assigned meal, but you took it anyway, and you told me that even though most of the kids didn't eat it, you did, because I had made it.  That night you threw up.  The following day you pulled me aside and told me that you were certain that it was someone else's dish, and not mine, that had made you throw up. It amazes me that you thought to tell me that.

Selma: You are incredibly affectionate! At some point this week, you kissed the back of my neck until I couldn't stop laughing. You were so happy; you held my face in your hands and sighed "oh, mama, I love your laugh; I wish you would laugh more often." This year I resolve to laugh more with you.

When your aunt Mercy comes to visit:  paint your nails on the rooftop.
of course.

There is something altogether spectacular about the concept of God becoming man in order to bring peace on earth - - reconciliation between God and man! 

It takes my breath away every year. 

We went to the local market this weekend to get our tree 

and our piñata

(of course) 

 

Tell you what, it can be a stressful thing to go to the tree yard in Mexico City.  Every tree vendor is convinced they have the perfect tree for you; they'll call out  persistently and even drag their trees over for you to admire.  One tree vendor caught my eye lingering on a tree and told me "ah yes, that's a good tree; it's skinny - just like the ones they are selling in France!" (ha!)  

I was glad to have Joshua along - he has mastered the skill of haggling with the tree vendors and having a good laugh along the way. 

Also, my guys carried our tree home.  

I feel so urban.

The school office called me this morning.
Josu was sick; I was being summoned to pick him up.

When I arrived at the school, I found his class in the school patio - getting ready for recess.

We needed to grab Josu's backpack out of the classroom, and so his teacher handed the classroom key over to one of his classmates so that she could open the door for us. She was the cutest little girl you've ever seen: her hair was slicked back into a ballerina bun; her black eyes were sharp and happy; her earlobes were sparkling with the golden hoops hanging from them.

"Thanks for helping us! What's your name?" I asked

she smiled at me "my name is Jihad" she said sweetly "it means holy war; it's an Arabic name"

"Ah yes" I told her. "Did you know that my girl Selma's name is from Arabic too?"

"what does it mean?" she asked

"It means peace; her papa and I named her that because we pray every day that she will be a peacemaker on this earth."

"Oh" she said "well, my brother's name is more normal; my parents named him Bruno"

Ah, little one. . . . 
When I prayed for Selma tonight, I prayed for you also - that you too would be a peacemaker on this earth.