Slani Pita

Jucer sam napravilla zeljanica domaci i slusala sam Bosanski musika. Onda sam plakala... Uglavnom sam sretna, ali stvarno fali mi nesto. Nedostaje mi Bosni i drustvo moje. Svarno znam da ovo korak je Bozi plan. Vjerujem ga. Bi ce sve uredu. Polako.

"The Suck Zone"

I've watched the movie "Twister" about 20 times since it was released. I always laugh as one colorful character is describing tornadoes to a newbie, giving the details of entering "the suck zone". Since moving back to the States, I feel I can relate.

When I pull into the walmart parking lot I feel the wind of materialism begining to blow. As I walk past the greeter, an all out storm ensuses. I feel the sting of "everyday low prices" pelting me from everyside, emploring me to buy more than I came for....more than I need. I take a deep breath and press on clenching my list in my hand. Around asile three I hesitate...feeling battered by the downpour of commercialism...I start to wonder if I really DO need to recorate the bathroom...my towels really are out dated. I fight back the urge to "buy now and pay later". I set my chin and grip the cart. I press hard against each powerful "gim-me" gust. I labor on knowing that "the suck zone" is upon me. The intensity is almost too strong so I turn my head as I pass the small kitchen appliances far nicer and newer than mine. "Hang on, just a little bit more," I tell myself. "Stick to the list. Buy light bulbs and toilet paper." I'm griping the cart with white nuckles, pressing toward the checkout counter. The storm is almost over I can feel it changing directions. The cashier asks me, "Did you find everything you needed today?" Relief. "Yes...everything I needed." I murmur. A strange calm as I walk out with my one little bag in hand. And I am once again a survivor of "the suck zone".

Multiple faces of "The Three"

"The three" at Tiff and Slado's wedding....they had a blast. They were so excited to be dressed up and with so many of our dear ones from Bosnia. Rachel kept asking when they were gonna kiss. Jacob slept thru the whole ceremony...and only awakened for CAKE! Brent told several strangers how much money he had and exactly how he earned it.
A normal sight for the last two and a half months.... "the three" in the back of a tiny SUV traveling...traveling...and traveling. I told them one day that we would be going 7 hours and they replied..."that's ALL!" :)
At the Tiger safari (Okalahoma City) with Mommy and "Uncle" Donovan...it was a great day. Lots of "danger", like feeding the tigers and touching many animals. "The three" thought the baby kangaroo was the best.

Useless Skills

Adjusting back to the States after having lived in a much different culture for the last three years is a bit weird. I spent so much time trying to aquire another culture/language and now I feel like those skills are completely useless! Here are a few silly examples...
-I can sucessfully use, and give advice on using, a Turkish toilet ("squaty potty").
-I can talk the produce market workers down to a reasonable price when buying tomatoes by insulting his products.
-I can navigate all forms of public transportation in another language and spot possible theives.
-I can drink strong Bosnian coffee several times a day and still fall asleep with ease.
-I can chop wood and cook a three course meal on a little wood stove.
-I can make my own pancake syrup.
-I can drive and park a van on roads smaller than an alley with ease.
-I have developed a taste for roasted goat and sheep cheese and meat paste.
What is a girl to do with these useless skills!?

Trophies of Motherhood

Being a mom is the "best, hardest, most fufilling, depleting, longest, but goes-by-in-a-blink" job in the world. With other careers or endevors there are ladders climbed, corporate advancements, accolades, and acheivement awards. In the last 8 years the only ladders I have climbed have been at the playground and I consider it an advancement that I haven't bought diapers for a year! The awards...well, they come in random ways and not at all when you expect. This week I noted a couple of those awards:

A suspicious grin...a uncontainable boyish giggle...a request... "Mom, I have a surprise for you in my pocket." Out jumps a toad!! Uproarious laughter... a feigned response of shock and horor...more laughter! Twinkling eyes...glowing with glee. "I got-cha that time mommy!"

Quite in the basement...still quite...w-a-y too quite in the basement. Down the stairs...thump...thump..thump... Smiling daughter. "Hi, Mommy! Guess what I've been doing?" "Ummm...I really have no idea, honey." mild trepidation....open the door...five year old pride..."Look what I did!"...relief....confusion... little blonde girl, big grin...wanting to please... "I cleaned your room for you Mommy! It sure was messy!"

Little boy...sunny bed-head...the morning groogies...wiggle into my bed. "Dood morning, mommy! I wuv you."

Can't hang them on the wall or place them on the mantle, but I've got a room full of treasures. Gleaming, shining like jewels on the dark days... priceless trophies of motherhood.

Culture Collsion

It happends all the time... You live in another culture long enough that you momentarily forget what is normal in your own culture.

I was flying last week and was seated next to a young mom and her 15 month old baby. She was nervous because the baby was really fussy. When the child began to wail I really wanted to help. That is when it happened...I thought to my self, "I know! I have a chocolate bar in my purse!" Yes... I really contemplated giving chocolate to an 15 month old who I don't even know!!! Just how many American cultural rules does this break?!! Then I started laughing at how horrified I had been for at least a year in Bosnia as strangers offered my children candy....even my littlest...who was barely one year old. I'm still chuckling about this culture collision.

In America a "good" mom protects her child from any possible or theoretical danger... including not permitting chocolate at very young ages.
In Bosnia a "good" mom does nearly anything to keep a child happy...including permitting chocolate at very young ages.

And the search continues... how to be a "good" mom...

Homeless

A few days ago little Jacob sat at the counter in my parents kitchen and inquisitivley asked my dad..."Papa, why do you live here?" My dad replied, "...because this is my home." To which Jacob pondered, "Then where MY home?"

Good question Jacob. I wish I had an answer to that one. Meanwhile we bounce from one place to the next....9 States, 12 Beds,.... 100's of questions that still seem unanswerable. The future still seems blury and I can't seem to get it to come into focus. For now I will just keep listening to His "still, quiet voice"....one step at a time toward the Sheperd, trusting that what I cannot see He sees clearly.