Our Year in Pictures

I think that we can all say that 2012, as it did not end up in a fiery zombie apocalypse, turned out alright. Here is our year in review:

January

February

March:

Meeting Mama C and Granddad in Taipei

April

May

June:

Alabama

July:

Colorado

August:

Back in Seoul

September:

Phuket, Thailand

October

November

December

Spending New Year's in Rome

What a great year! We can't wait to see what is in store in 2013!

Buon Natale!

My poor parents. They did such an amazing job raising us to be strong, independent people and how do we thank them? We flee the nest, taking full advantage of the gift of autonomy they bestowed upon us. I stole my husband away from America and brought him to Asia and my sister has recently been enjoying the marvels of Eastern Europe since moving to Albania with her husband in August. So, what is a family to do when separated by a couple of continents, several large bodies of water, and not a few time zones? Duty called and so we packed up the Simpson four to meet the rest of my natal family in bella Roma. It was an incredible week full of sight-seeing, limoncello drinking, and memory making. Here are the highlights:

Christmas gift exchange

Seeing the Pope... twice!

 We love our cousin!

La Piazza Navona

Trevi Fountain

The Colosseum and the Forum

 Hanging with Uncle Matt

 Morning cappuccino with Dad

Everyone at the Vatican

A Reflection on "Normal"

Sometimes I forget that I’m living abroad. I don’t mean that I think I am still living in America, I just mean that it doesn’t feel like there is anything “different” about our lives anymore. So many of the things that were once strange and new have become so natural that I forget that there was a time I had to get used to it. I have grown accustomed to handing my credit card to the cashier with two hands, taking taxis everywhere, knowing that I will have to order in a restaurant using pointing and hand signals; it is all just my life now. It is funny how you adjust.

I was thinking how interesting it will be for our girls growing up with this life as “normal”. Calling grandparents means using the computer and a calculator to calculate the time difference, a break from school is usually equated with needing a passport, and a really special dinner means TGI Fridays. I suppose it is true from every generation to the next, but our girls are going to have a very different childhood than what I had.

Just before we let out for Christmas, I asked my freshmen what they were doing for Christmas. As they each went around saying what they were doing and where they were going, I reflected on how different life is for expats. Everyone going “home” or to a warmer place for a few weeks is expected, someone staying in the country is the exception. One student explained that he was going to Cambodia. He couldn’t remember which city but knew it wasn’t the big city. Another student chimed in, “Phnom Penh?”  The class erupted in insults saying, “Phnom Penh is the big city, duh!”

These kids are freshmen in high school and not only do they know the capital of Cambodia but many of them have been there and can tell you the currency and the exchange rate against the US dollar and the Euro. Crazy. I’m pretty sure I didn’t find out that Cambodia existed until I was at least a junior. I don’t think I could have pointed it out on a map until I moved to Taiwan. But, at the same time, there are so many things that are “normal” to my childhood that are totally foreign to expat kids. Most of them never went to the mall to sit on Santa’s lap, they have never driven around the neighborhood looking at Christmas lights, and many of them have never known what a real Christmas tree in your living room smells like.  

No matter where I live, I will always have a strong tie to American culture and traditions. Even though I may experience reverse culture shock every summer as I ogle grocery store aisles, the US will always be my home culture. It will forever be the measure against which I compare everything I experience. So, I often wonder, what will my girls use? What will their measure be? I think being abroad helps them to be adaptable, accepting, and gives them a knowledge of their world; but does it also rob them of a sense of consistency? Is there any way that they can know the capital of Sri Lanka but still have fun building forts with their Stateside cousins?  In short, I guess I really just want what every parent wants anywhere in the world. I don’t want my kids to be weirdos. Is that too much to ask?

Am I doing this right?

So first off, let me apologize profusely for my two month blogging hiatus. I fully intended to write a blog every couple of weeks or, at the very least, once a month. Yet, here I find myself nearly eight weeks from the last post. If there is anyone left reading this blog, I apologize and promise to do better.

One of the excuses that I am going to give you about why I have taken such a long break is that the Simpson clan has been quite under the weather for the last week. Being sick sucks. There, I said it. There is nothing fun about it. Historically, I haven’t been one to get sick too often but when I do, I am reminded of how much I adore my immune system and can’t wait for it to do its thing and get me back to normal. You know what is worse than you being sick? Your kid being sick. When I’m sick, I know what hurts and how much it hurts. I can take a stab at what is wrong and what I need to do about it. A little girl just under two can’t tell you that. And so there is not a lot I can do about it. This is where our story begins.

The great thing about living on campus with all of the teachers and their families is that we get to see each other all the time and our kids have plenty of playmates. Unfortunately, however, this also means that when one kid gets sick, they all get sick. So, our two girls with a cough that sounded woefully similar to their friends’, we took them to the doctor and received the diagnosis we were expecting: bronchitis. Ten days of antibiotics it was. Not surprised, we headed home ready to serve our time on the medicine spoon chain-gang. The hospital had other plans, however.

The giving of the medicine turned out to be a more difficult task than I had anticipated. Lily must have been poisoned in a former life because she did everything in her 10 kg. power she could possibly do to not swallow the medicine we offered. If you have ever tried to get a toddler to do something they don’t want to do, you have some sort of idea how much her tiny little self writhed and squirmed so that the two tiny drops that did actually enter her mouth could easily be spat out. There has to be an easier way, I thought. There is no way I’m doing this right.

Poor Lucy really tried to cooperate with the medicine. For her, it was her stomach that refused it and promptly ejected it so as to not allow any of the antibiotic properties to do their job in her system. So then, what do I do? I’m her mother; I’m supposed to take care of her and make her better. Do I force her to take medicine that will most likely make her throw up and cause her to lose the day’s nutrients along with the medicine? Or, do I stop halfway through an antibiotic to let her keep lunch down for once but cause her (and her bronchitis) to build up an immunity to the antibiotic? Both decisions felt like the wrong one. Sitting in the ER at midnight one night confirmed that there is no way I was doing this right.

Lucy was still throwing up. I wasn’t doing this right. Lily was still coughing. I wasn’t doing this right. That is why having your kid sick is a million times worse than you being sick. More than anything in the world I wanted them to get better but there just isn’t a switch to flip or a button to push. Seeing my distress, other parents comforted me, “Don’t worry, they will get better.” Nonetheless, every time the clock struck “medicine time”, it seemed like the world was going to end.

But, it didn’t. My friends were right. The girls did get better. Though we are still making our way through the post-antibiotic haze, I am able to take a step back and get a little perspective. How blessed am I that the only illness I have had to deal with in their two years is a little bronchitis? And how amazing to live in a place that has antibiotic and IV hydration drips readily at my disposal. I really have very little to complain about. As far as the medicine administering, I still don’t know if I was doing it right or if I made the right decisions. I do know that I love them more than they will understand until they get to know the agony and the ecstasy of motherhood. All I can do is hope that I only give them enough dysfunction to have funny stories at dinner parties. Wish me luck! 

A Taste of Thailand

This past week, Koreans celebrated Chuseok, a holiday similar to our Thanksgiving. And, because we work in Korea, we got the week off (add another point to the teaching abroad column!). So, as we normally do when we have time off, we loaded everyone up and took off. Some good friends of ours used to live in Thailand so we took advantage of their tour guiding skills and hit the sunny beaches of Phuket. This week was extra special because we got to relish in the most treasured of words in any traveler’s vocabulary, “upgrade”. Our original hotel was undergoing some maintenance so we luxuriated all week long in private villas with our own swimming pool just a few steps from the beach. It’s a rough life. Here are some of the highlights:

 Everyone at the pool

Meeting the baby elephant 

Telling Dada all about the ocean waves 

Going for a walk with Mama 

Feeding the ducks every morning at breakfast 

I love this place! Don't you, sis?

Delight

I have to show you something. I’m sorry if we are facebook friends and so you have already seen it but in my very humble opinion, this video is quite possibly the cutest thing that has ever existed. Ever.

To me, it is cute on so many levels. It is cute that Lucy stops what she is doing and makes a b-line for the door all the while doing her best to communicate her joy in her own cute little language. It is cute that Lily becomes so overcome with joy that she just screams over and over. It is cute that they, at this tender young age, already have fashion preferences and favorite shoes. I think that the cute little shoes look great on their cute little feet. I just love this video.

It has occurred to me, however, that quite possibly one of the reasons that I love this video so much and find it so adorable is that the two main players just happen to be my offspring. In the days pre-children, people tried to explain to me how much a mother loves her kids. I used to smile and nod, throwing their comments into the same pile as “Your life is going to change!” and “Get sleep now!” not really knowing how to respond.

And then they came. I’m going to be honest. Those first few post-partum weeks were not necessarily filled with the “my children are my heart flitting about outside of my body” kind of moments I had dreamed about. However, slowly but surely, the little buggers started stealing my heart away. Smiles, giggles, learning new things, every day started getting more and more fun. And now, I can’t get enough of them. Every morning I look forward to seeing them. I miss them every night after I put them down (Okay, okay, so not right after I put them down. Maybe about an hour after…).

 In short, I really delight in my kids. Everything they do fascinates me. Every time they learn a new word, get excited about their shoes, or ask “please dance” when they actually want to hear me sing (that is true love right there), my heart is filled to overflowing. So something dawned on me this morning. Do you realize that that is how much God delights in us? The Bible calls us children of God for a reason. He is absolutely over the moon, crazy about us. How about that? The creator of the universe is as delighted in me as I am in my girls. More so, in fact. Just think about that for a second. Now, if that don’t light your fire, as my grandfather says, your wood is wet.

Pressing the Unmute Button

Well, it has only taken me a little over two years but I have finally made the leap to join the land of the unmute. Monday marked the first of what I hope to be many Korean language classes. Being a language teacher myself, it was exciting to once again be on the “other side” of language learning. Our tutor’s goal was to speak only the target language (Korean) in class. Often having the same goal in my own classes, I well understood the purpose of this aim. Sitting at a desk instead of standing at the board, however, gave me a deeper understanding of the mystified and sometimes horrified expressions on my students’ faces as I babble on about the geographic layout of Spain. As we dove in to the lesson, I frantically searched for a pencil as I scribbled down what I thought I heard our tutor say with their supposed English translations.

In no time at all my two fellow classmates and I were practicing pneumonics and dancing around like kindergarten students as we rehearsed various sounds in the Korean language. We traded tips and tricks on how to pronounce things correctly and to make sure not to confuse ㅗ with ㅜ, or ㅈ withㅊ.  I was able to ask the first of many burning questions about the Korean language and to properly order my coffee. As it turns out, 커피 (pronounced cuh-pi) is what I want as it means coffee. I do not want 코피(pronounced coh-pi) as that means a nosebleed. No thank you, I would not like a nosebleed with an extra shot of espresso. This little tidbit certainly explains a lot of giggles from local baristas.

And so begins the language learning journey. The steps are baby ones but at least it is progress.  My goal is for people to actually believe that I have been living in Korea for the last three years and not hiding under some bridge somewhere being anti-social. Or, at least to successfully walk away from Starbucks without a nosebleed. I like to set the bar high. So off I go into the wild frontier of a new language. Now all I need is a Korean to ask me my name or to borrow a pencil to put into practice my new fancy linguistic skills. Look out Seoul, here I come!