Raising Kids Abroad: WHEN ROOTS ARE EXPOSED

We received some really sound advice prior to our move to Nicaragua. A few other couples invested quality time in us beforehand to prepare us, as much as possible, to be a family who functioned efficiently though we were about to be uprooted. When all that is familiar is lost suddenly, it can be difficult to transition. Even more so for kids. This was not something I thought of in advance and I'm so glad someone took the time to pour into us about what those first months would be like for our children. When roots are exposed, a family must learn how cope temporarily until what can now feel like chaos and insecurity can begin to feel like a "new normal". Let me share some nuggets that made this transition flow more smoothly for us.

ALL THAT IS FAMILIAR SHOULD NOT BE LOST
We spent the better part of our preparation months getting rid of TONS of stuff. This seems to be the norm among families creating this change in their lives. We had MAJOR garage sales and for three weeks straight, our kids witnessed objects of stability and security slowly mosey out the door with random people. Hot wheels now belonged to a friend of theirs, their swing set went to live with cousins, their bunkbeds were replanted at grandma's house, and most of their toys that they had spent their entire 7-year lifespan accumulating were being sold off to random strangers. I could sense that they felt the bottom was falling out of their little world. Those things were their things. Now, they were gone. Rooms became bare and all that they held so dear was being packed up into 13 total suitcases. This is scary for grown-ups. Kids that associate material possessions as security have a really hard time with this process. One of our friends told us that we needed to keep certain things that would be remembrances of "home". Aside from the blankets that we were bringing already, we decided to keep a large star nightlight that we plug into whatever room they are sleeping in. This has been something that provides security. We have moved to three different homes in Nicaragua within our first year and their star burns bright in all three. Wherever they are, there it is also. We even brought it with us when we returned back to the States for a visit and kept it lighting up their room at Grandma's. It's something they can count on and even these little things have made a huge difference.

SIGNPOSTS
This is an idea that I credit to our missions pastors at church. They lived for 4 years in Cambodia with small children like ours and had so many helpful suggestions for making this transition as a family go smoother. One of my favorites was their idea of creating "signposts" throughout your day for your children. In any move abroad, whatever routine that kids held dear back home has been thrown to the wayside. Each day in a new country is a growing and learning experience. The new language and culture and food and way of life forces one into living more adaptively. This is especially hard for kids who have always associated daily occurrences with security. For example, back in Oklahoma, every time we got into the car to go to school or the park or to the store, I would put on the ipod of songs that the boys loved. Car rides meant fun, sing-along time with mom. It's something they looked forward to on a daily basis and counted on. When we moved to Nicaragua, we didn't have a vehicle. We still do not. We hail taxis and grab rides with friends or walk anytime we need to get anywhere so those moments of family sing-alongs in the car are distant memory. In exchange for all the "moments" that were normal in the life we led before, we have tried desperately to created new "signposts". Moments that are routine throughout our day that the boys can hold onto and know that they are a "constant" in their new lives. One is morning bible study during breakfast. Once we all wake up and get our cereal and fruit and coffee, the boys and I sit around the table and read a chapter story out of the Jesus Storybook Bible. They look at pictures and ask questions and we spend those few moments every morning creating a repetitious moment that they can count on. Other "signposts" throughout the day could be 15-minutes of "face time" right after school. A moment every single day that they know that you ask questions and are interested in what's happening in their day. Or maybe a "highs and lows" game at dinner time when everyone goes around the table and talks about their high of the day and low of the day and discusses them as a family. Another one that we've tried to stick with is bedtime stories. Each child picks a book and we sit on the bed, read each book and talk about the story right before we say goodnight. I think the best signposts are just moments that you can consistently create on a daily basis no matter where you find yourself. They are not tied to geography and can happen anywhere. Our friends encouraged us to a a few of these each day so that when our days get away from us in a foreign country and we are on-the-go and shoving the kids in and out of taxis and restaurants and constantly meeting new faces and places and all is turned upside down in their little worlds, they have moments throughout the day where they can regroup and feel some form of stability. Living abroad can be difficult for anyone and people of all ages can benefit from the idea of "signposting".

GETAWAYS ARE STILL A MUST
It seems silly sometimes to think that once you are living abroad in a new country, that you may still need a vacation. We are surrounded by palm trees and live a short drive from the beach. Our kids build sandcastles daily and are constantly in the water. We live in a perpetual state of summer here in Nicaragua. People back home look at our lifestyle and see "fun-in-the-sun" with some mission work opportunities in the mix. One would assume, Why would you need a vacation?! You LIVE on vacation!" While this observation is correct to a certain extent; we live in paradise compared to where we lived before, it's not exactly the full picture. When you move abroad, as opposed to when you "vacation" abroad, your perspective has changed. This new place is a whole new life, not just an "experience". You are finding your new grocery stores and gas stations, your kids are settling into school, you are learning to eat new foods and find out where you can buy necessities and cleaning supplies and pay speeding tickets. You are setting up a new life and all that comes with that. Geography and scenery after awhile, become secondary. You and your family must learn to function in this new paradise. You make friends and hold play dates and help with homework and most of the time still work a job of some sort (my husband does graphic design work online). No matter where your new home is, it's important to get away every once in awhile as a family, even if only for a long weekend to refresh and recollect yourself. For us, it's been going home to the States every 6 months for a visit. We've needed that time to reconnect with family and indulge in conveniences that we've missed. As well, we just recently were able to travel to another part of Nicaragua to house sit for some friends and had a mini-vacation away from our small coastal town. This time was perfect for us to reconnect with each other, spend ample quality time with the kids, and just relax without the normal daily responsibilities of school, work, and mission work. "Stay-cations" are also beneficial for the family. We've had many days that we have stayed at home and just relaxed and napped and removed ourselves from the bustle of this new life abroad. I think it's especially important for the kids to have this time away. No matter where you are living, sometimes you just need a break. Even more so when you are extra exhausted from learning a second language and striving to find your place in a new culture. Remember to step away every so often to rest.

THEY MAY NEED CONTROL OF THE SMALL THINGS
Kids are flexible. For the most part, they are way more adaptable to new surroundings than adults are. But we, as parents have had time to emotionally prepare. These months leading up to the move, we have read books and blogs, adjusted budgets and made special provisions for our new life abroad. To children, one day they are going about their normal lives, and one day all that is "home" is gone. We can try to talk to them about it and prepare them for what will happen when we relocate, but the truth is, kids lack a sense of timing and mental preparation. Anything that happens to them, happens suddenly. When their roots are exposed and they cannot find a semblance of normal for while, they tend to feel completely and utterly out of control of their little lives. We, as adults still get to decide where we live and find a new home, decide on what we will have for dinner that night, what sights we will see that day, who we will befriend and how we will function day-to-day. WE have chosen this lifestyle, not our children. They benefit greatly from being able to come to a new place, have exposure to new language and culture and diverse new friendships. And they will grow and have the time of their lives in the process. But it doesn't alleviate the fact that they are hopelessly out of control and may try to compensate in ways that will make the transition harder on everyone else involved. We noticed a lot of tantrums the first few weeks. They wanted things that were always readily available to them and because we were still blindly searching our way around a new place, we asked for their patience way more than they were accustomed. Meltdown city, over here in Nica. Crying and whining and complaining about the smallest things filled our first couple of weeks. Then came the boycotting of foods. To this day, food is our biggest cause for concern in living abroad. Our kids have control of little else, but what they can control is what they put in their mouths. Sometimes, I feel as though they will exert their stubborn will of not eating THAT simply because they have had no control over anything else that day. It's the one thing they can say NO to. As well, we were met with digression from the potty-training accomplishment we had made earlier in the year. We moved with a three-year-old who was completely potty-trained and the minute we stepped foot in Nicaragua, it became a battle again. Accidents and refusal to go to the bathroom. Grasping for control whenever possible. I've spoken to many moms abroad and this is something that is found to happen a lot. Eventually kids settle into the new lifestyle and can release the clenched fist of control once they feel safe and secure again, but don't be surprised if their behavior and attitude change drastically for a time during this transition. As you are all growing and allowing this new lifestyle to change you as a family, it may take the children a bit longer. Patience and understanding that they need to feel in control of some things is important. Letting our kids have some leeway and more choices along the way has helped.

Though the transition of moving abroad with kids can be a difficult one, I'm finding the perspective and growth it provides for a family is far worth it. I think it's all about having realistic expectations about how it will affect everyone and reacting accordingly. Immersing ourselves in this new culture and language and lifestyle has grown us closer together. We have learned to understand and relate to each other better. It's created a healthy dependence on the family unit that we were lacking in the States. Because we "uprooted" together, we have had an opportunity to be more vulnerable together and adopt a perspective on life that sees things differently. The world is HUGE and people are DIVERSE and memories are EVERYTHING. These are just a few of the lessons a family can learn while raising kids abroad. I pray your journey abroad is just as eye-opening as ours has been thus far.

Ever Notice How Patient Children Are. . .

Have you ever noticed how patient children are?  How when waiting for something exciting to happen, they clasp their little hands, don't make a sound, don't ask questions, sit calmly and quietly, and exonerate an insurmountable measure of patience and self-restraint. . . . .yea, me either! We must not be referring to MY little monsters! As much as I can tell from my own experience, this "waiting period" for anything from a childhood's perspective is never a time of self-control.  The usual scenario goes a little something like this:

"Mr. Grouch, wait a minute.  I will give you (said snack) as soon as Mommy gets off the phone."

Chaos ensues. First comes the wringing of the hands in violent frustration and the glaring glances. Then comes the over-achieving sighs of annoyance. The dancing in place begins, proceeded directly by groans of "Huuuuurry up, mommyyyyyy!" to which I politely (yea, right) reiterate that I am on the phone and he will need to wait.

Jumping up and down, grabbing my arms and swinging around, sitting at my feet, continuing sighs of dissatisfaction and impatience follow. This goes on until he decides, I should get her attention another way. This is my favorite part. . .

Mr. Grouch starts running circles in the house, leaping off train tables and knocking items off the table. Before I can grab him he's dive-bombing off the couch onto a mountain of pillows in the floor. And he does all of this in absolute silence. . .NOT. (Yes, I just brought that phrase back.)  The squeals and laughs and shouts for attention overwhelm the obviously important phone call that I'm in the middle of. I try to shush him down, but he is persistent on getting me off that phone and onto snack time.  By this time, I am beyond over giving a disrespectful child anything sugar-related.

I can just see the wheels in his little monster brain turning as I walk out of earshot so as to hear the person on the other line. This tactic is not working. . .desperate times call for desperate measures! I'll just have to get this snack myself! He proceeds to the kitchen, pushing a dining room chair across the floor and up next to the cabinet. Climbing onto the chair, he then lifts a knee and crawls successfully onto the kitchen cabinet. I just stand there and watch in general frustration.  Let's just see how this goes down.  Opening the cabinet, he finds a cereal box and pries the top open and sticks his little grubby hand in. Grabbing a handful, he pulls it out and stuffs it in his mouth as I hang up the phone and come into the room, my hands on my hips. Realizing that he's been caught, he stumbles back onto the chair, it tipping to the side, spilling the rest of the cereal box onto the floor where the dog generously devours each and every little piece.

Mr. Grouch looks up at my disapproving glare with a mouthful of Fruit Loops and eyes of shame. And just as I'm about to tear into him for being impatient and over-anxious and disobedient, it hits me like a ton of bricks just how much like his mother he truly is. He's a child. Waiting for something that seems so far away, yet just out of his grasp.

This is me lately. Guilty eyes with a mouthful of Fruit Loops, apologizing repeatedly for taking matters (of God's) into my own hands because I'm just too anxious to wait any longer for Him to come through.

Waiting is brutal.  Whether you are a child or just a child in the eyes of God who has repeatedly told you to Wait patiently. All things will come together at the proper time. Don't we always assume that NOW is the proper time and that God is just dragging His all-knowing feet. Lately, we have been asking God for many signs and plans to come together that will dictate the future of our family. Open doors, supply resources, orchestrate divine intervention in our lives. . .shine Your light on the next step of our journey! I'm ready for my dang SNACK already!

I'm starting to get it, as I pick Mr. Grouch up off the floor and let him know that he should have waited on me to get his snack.  Explaining to someone who doesn't see the future, doesn't understand the risks of doing it himself instead of waiting on my experience. He doesn't get the fact that waiting is a sign of obedience.  He does, however, now apprehend how easy it is to wreck a situation when you try to take matters into your own hands. Now for kitchen clean-up!

It's amazing how much these crazy little people in our lives can continuously teach us life lessons. It's quite aggravating, actually, I'm not gonna lie. I hate the sinking feeling that I have almost daily when I catch the little bugger doing something that I'm guilty of on a much grander scale. Really clever, God. . . .teach the teacher her own lessons by using her students. Nothing like putting me in my place and reminding me that God still sees me as a little child. But honestly, thank heavens for that! I still have a lot of things to learn, and could regularly use a healthy heap of patience as I constantly try to get God "off the phone" and onto snack time. For now, I'm going to practice clasping my hands in my lap, sit calmly and quietly, and exonerate an insurmountable measure of self-control. . . . .hopefully.

Maybe a few jumping jacks, squeals, and sighs will do the trick too.

Re-Writing History

It's been a hard couple of years with my oldest child.  I hate to even write that statement down because some might assume I have favorites, and Mr. Grouchy Pants is not it. I have two amazing boys and they are completely different. I love so many things about each one individually.  I do have to confess that there have been times in these early toddler years that I have LOVED my little Grouch, but didn't like him very much.  I write this down because as I explain this struggle, some very desperate parents out there might be able to relate and find a little hope.

Mr. Grouchy Pants was always that.  Grouchy.  My adorable, stubborn, beautiful little sour puss. Sometimes I feel like he came out with a scowl on his precious face that just never went away. Don't get me wrong, there were moments of cheerfulness and big smiles and plenty of laughter. But he was always a very particular child.  I learned early that things had to go according to plan, or he may just have an emotional meltdown.  I probably fed that fire. Don't we all when it's our first baby?  We hang on their every "goo-goo-gah-gah", we give them what they want or need even before they ask us, we are perfectly content devoting our every waking hour to just sitting and staring at them.  They are new and exciting and they learn that we were put on this earth to entertain them, provide for them, and cater to their every whim. Not that this is a bad thing.  But we teach them what to expect from us.  I think in my case, especially, I became all things to Mr. Grouch and worshipped his sweet little spoiled behind one iota too much.  I didn't think that was possible.  He was my baby, and always would be.

Until I had Mr. Stinky Pants.

Boy did our world come to a screeching halt. Especially for Big Brother. All of the sudden, mommy's attention and focus wasn't solely wrapped up in his every move. He had to compete for the chance to be the one sitting comfortably on Mommy's lap. He went from being "Mommy's Baby" to "Mommy's Big Boy" overnight. And if the title "Big Boy" meant no more crawling into mommy and daddy's bed every morning, no more hour-long story times at night, and no more bedtimes where Mommy rocked him to sleep every night for two hours while humming his favorite lullaby, then "Big Boy" was NOT the new nickname that he wanted.

Things changed in our house, but they also changed for me emotionally.  I felt torn. I didn't realize that going from one child to two would be such a drastic difference. What's one more, I thought. Apparently, one more came with a whole lot of sacrifices. The main one being letting go of the atmosphere of "Grouch-worship" that was so routine to us, and embracing a new life of balance.  I obviously did not handle the transition well.  And neither did Mr. Grouchy Pants.

The next few years were filled with meltdowns, resentment, and bitterness.  The more Grouch acted out due to lack of the attention that he'd grown so accustomed, the more I threw my hands up in surrender and just turned even more attention to Stinker. It was a vicious cycle. One that neither of us knew how to stop from happening.  I was so overwhelmed by the outbursts and negative actions of Grouch that I retreated to Stinker and allowed my husband to tend to our "difficult child".  If I were to be really transparent, I would admit that the moment that Stinker arrived, I began to neglect Grouch in such a way that he was left with emotional scars that we are still trying to fix. However good my intentions or how accidental my behavior was in the two and a half years to follow, it left Grouch with feelings of abandonment and a grudge so deep that it will take God's help to overcome. I've accidentally broken my little one's heart. I'm learning to forgive myself for this so that I can penetrate through his again.  It's a daily process.

Through this whole ordeal, I've learned a lot. I've learned that Mr. Grouchy Pants and I were given each other for a reason. We are in so many ways alike. You see, I had a parent who I could never please. One who made me feel like a constant inconvenience.  One who would only love me if I lived up to his expectations.  I was constantly disowned.  Constantly pleading for love and attention.  Constantly feeling abandoned and alone. Don't think for a minute that this is just a coincidence. Generational sins are a real-life curse. My dad and I currently have no relationship. It breaks my heart everyday.  In the same way that it probably broke my dad's heart for years and years that he had no relationship with his mother. And she had no relationship with her mother. This is something that our family has been struggling with for decades.

And it stops here. 

No matter how long it takes me, or to what lengths I have to go, my son will feel loved.  He may struggle with it.  He may fight me like he does sometimes now when I tackle him in a bear hug and struggle to get free.  He may say mean and hurtful things to me to break my heart the way I have unintentionally broke his. But I won't walk away. I won't take the easy route and play favorites and spend all my time with the "pleasant child".  Mr. Grouchy Pants has a Mr. Happy Pants inside him just waiting to be freed, I just know it. I make it my life mission to find him.  Our routine daily takes turns for the better. I'm learning to balance my emotions and get a tighter grasp on my patience. I'm learning that with kids, taking the "easy route" is almost never the best route.  And most of all, I'm learning to not just love my kids, but to like them as well. They are a product of their history.  The history that I get the pleasure of writing every single day. One day, Mr. Grouch will look back on this history lesson and be thankful that his mom was a soldier; realizing her mistakes but never ever giving up the fight.