Are We There Yet?

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Another lifetime ago, we lived overseas. And during that time, we were able to take a family trip to London. On that trip, one thing stood out to my children above all others. Bigger than the London Eye, more impressive than the Crown Jewels, even more memorable than the mac’n’cheese at the Hard Rock Cafe.

The walking.

We walked everywhere. And we walked for ages, and ages. At least in their little minds, and to their little feet, we did. Now bear in mind, at the time, we lived in a small village in rural Ireland. There just wasn’t that much within walking distance, and if you did walk somewhere, you were likely taking your life in your hands because there were either no sidewalks, or they were really, really narrow. So, needless to say, we drove just about everywhere we had to go.

This trip was before we moved to Vienna and utilized public transport everyday, so I was worried about how they would fare navigating the underground, hopping on and off buses and trains, being schlepped here, there and everywhere by their well-meaning parents who were going to “show them some history.” However, there’s apparently something highly exotic and exciting about getting to go somewhere with no seatbelt and standing up! Exotic and exciting aside, there was often just One thing they wanted to know:

Are we there yet?!?

I couldn’t blame them, really. Sometimes the question was asked out of excitement. Take, for instance, the Crown Jewels. Having watched the royal wedding, and nearly every Disney princess movie known to man, they were giddy with excitement about seeing the queen’s crown. So, the hour long tour we took before entering the jewel house was, to them, nothing short of medieval torture. Other times, it was asked from sheer exhaustion. Like when we walked for over half an hour in the wrong direction towards our dinner destination, only to have to retrace our steps and cross the city and then still have to wait nearly two hours for a table.

In either case, every time they asked the question, I tried to point out all of the great things we were seeing along the way. But they just weren’t interested. They had their eyes on the “prize”, and nothing was going to distract them.

It was sometime during one of these lovely little exchanges with my wee cherubs that it hit me like a ton of bricks. I might as well have been a pot trying to get the attention of my two little kettles. My entire life flashed before my eyes (only not in that weird pre-death sense).

A good chunk of my life has been spent riding the “are we there yet?” underground train. I hop on the train, wait for that one thing – an engagement ring, the wedding, a baby, the book contract – and then surface just long enough to see my destination. Then I submerge again until the next thing. In the meantime, how many wonderful things do I miss out on along the way because I just want to be there?

I think, if only I can get there, I’ll be happy and can enjoy the journey. The only problem is, there never feels like there! There will always be another there. Another tooth to break through, another grumpy teacher to deal with, another pound to lose, another medical battle to fight.

And these days, following the signing of my very first book contract, it is so tempting for me to wish for the next there. The title to be finalized. The cover to be set and revealed. The book to be done and in my hot little hands already!

Meanwhile, I’m missing out on life. You see, it was in those two hours in London waiting for a table that we had some of the best conversations with the people we were with. It was on those long walks between sights that I got to hold my daughter’s hand, or carry my son, and listen to their stories and questions and songs. The best parts of my vacation happened between all of the “must sees.” And it was in the years of waiting for this contract that I built incredible relationships with unbelievably kind people who helped me learn invaluable lessons I needed before I could even be ready for a book! I just need to take a lesson from London and experience and enjoy the journey as much as the destinations along the way.

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What about you? What is your “there” right now? Are you missing out on things you could be enjoying?

This post is an updated version of one that appeared on this blog back in 2011.

From One Working Mom to Another

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Although I’ve been a working mom for nearly all of my children’s lives, the majority of that employment was quite non-traditional. As I’ve ventured into the world of working outside the home again, I’ve struggled with lots of feelings from guilt to frustration to enjoyment.

I notice other working moms more readily, and I see in their eyes the same struggles I work to hind behind my own. Today, at The Better Mom, I’m sharing a letter from one working mom to another. I hope you’ll join me, and I pray it encourages you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you’ve just clicked over here from The Better Mom, welcome! Grab a cuppa and take a look around! I hope you’ll find community, friendship, and encouragement here in our little corner of the Web.

For When You Want Help for Your Blog

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I know so many of you that hang out here with me are bloggers as well. Many of us are “smaller” bloggers, who make very little income (or no income at all) from our blogging. Others of us are bigger and are able to support their family fairly well. And many of us are somewhere in between. I myself have been blogging for over six years, but just now wading into the waters of trying to earn an income from what I do here with us.

Finding a balance is certainly proving to be tricky!

But if you’re like me, there’s no question about it: you want your blog to be even better.

You’ve got more people to serve, a greater mission to accomplish, bigger dreams to achieve, and (let’s face it) you’d wouldn’t mind bringing home a bigger income, either.

But you don’t really want to spend a zillion dollars in order to become a better blogger (nor can you!).

You prefer a no-brainer approach whenever possible. Maximum value, minimum costs, easy as pie… that’s the name of your game.

So what if you could buy a bunch of blogging resources for an unbelievably reasonable price?

Maximum value? (Try $5,800.)

Minimum cost? (98% off.)

Easy? (89 resources in one place.)

I’m not exaggerating when I say this is your must-have blogging educational resource of the year.

Where else can you get access to Darren Rowse, Ruth Soukup, Jeff Goins, Abby Lawson, and more all in one place?

Check it out here!

Worried you won’t know where to start with all the resources in the toolkit? Don’t be! Inside the toolkit you’ll find a unique Genius Blogging Essentials eCourse to help you take action right away.

Whatever your blogging goals – whether it’s time management, increasing income, growing an audience, addressing technical challenges, or just staying current without spending a fortune – you can get equipped today, right now, to have the life and blogging experience you want tomorrow.

The Genius Blogger’s Toolkit will show you how.

Honestly, this bundle could not have come at a better time for me! These are the exact things I’m trying to figure out as I work to take this website—and our community here—to the next level.

Get yours now!

 

You Say Potato, I Say…Zulassungsbescheinigung

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We get a lot of comments from people about how lucky we are to live where we do, how exotic our lives must be, and one question we get asked all.the.time:

What’s it like living in a foreign country?? 

 Let me tell you a story…

Today, I needed to run some errands. I needed a winter coat – like, a real winter coat, not the cute little cotton thing I had last winter – and I needed to get some things checked out on the car. In case you didn’t know, it snows in Austria. I mean, the Alps? Hullooo! So, it would stand to reason that on occasion, one needs to drive on said snow (and ice) during the winter months. (It’s also totally the law that every car be fitted with winter tires from October to April).

I’d like to share with you the conversation I had with the man at the tire shop about getting an estimate on winter tires. This entire conversation happened in German, so I have provided the translated version here for your enjoyment.

Me: Hello, I would like to get an estimate on winter tires and wheels, please.

Tire Man (TM): Of course! Do you have a Zulassungsbescheinigung for me?

Me: … I’m sorry, what was that?

TM: No problem. Do you have a Zulassungsbescheinigung for me?

Me: I’m very sorry, I don’t know what that is.

TM: *chuckle* Oh, right. It’s a Zulassungsbescheinigung.

Me: But…what is that?

TM: It’s a Zulassungsbescheinigung.

Me: I’m sorry, I am new to Austria and I don’t know what a zu… zus…what a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is.

TM: Oh, haha, of course. It is a Zulassungsbescheinigung.

Me: *blank stare*

TM: *blank stare*

Me: …

TM: …

You Say Potato...

Eventually I did find the Zulassungsbescheinigung…at home, in a file.

Me: Could you maybe write it down for me?

TM: *reaches into a drawer and pulls out what looks like a European driver’s license*

Me: Oh!! *pulls out my European driver’s license* This??

TM: Exactly!! Oh…no. This is a driver’s license. You need a Zulassungsbescheinigung.

Me: *headdesk*

The End.

You may think I embellished this story for humor’s sake, I assure you I did not. (okay, I didn’t actually say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, but whatever word protruded from my lips was just as nonsensical, I assure you.)

If fairness to Mr. Tireman, he probably felt that he was in fact giving me an accurate description of the item, because that’s how German works. All those big, long words German is so famous for? They are a bunch of smaller words jammed together so that it very accurately and in great detail describes the item, location or office/department to which it refers. Zulassungsbescheinigung probably means “little card containing all the pertinent information pertaining to your car ever in the history of man”, because that’s what it is. And, as I learned today, any time you need work or inspections done on your car, you must present this.

Later this afternoon, I went to a second tire shop for another estimate. When TM2 asked me for my Zulassungsbescheinigung, I grinned slyly to let him know I’m hip to the code and whipped out my supercalifragilisticexpialidocious before he could even finish saying the word. Booyah.

Yes, living in Vienna (or any European place) has its amazing highlights. Just the other day, I was buying paper towels and coffee in the shadow of the world-renowned Stefansdom Catherdral. I mean, wow. So many times we stop in the middle of our day and just look around and take it in because we – how do the kids say it these days? –  just can’t even. Sometimes we literally can’t even.

However, most days…this my friends – this conversation right here – is what it’s like to live in a foreign country.

When Beauty Takes You By Surprise

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Have you ever been to a particular place upteenmillion times, and on the upteenmillionandfirst time you go, you notice something absolutely amazing? Something that had been there the whole time but you had been so immersed in you own stuff you had never seen it?Look-Up-768x1024

I had one such experience recently and it was such a good and valuable reminder for me, I just had to share it with you.

Join me today at The Better Mom as I remind us all to take time everyday to look up!

If you’ve just joined us here from The Better Mom, welcome!! I’m so glad you’ve come over to hang out for a little while. Grab your favorite culpa (if it happens to be a half-price Cherry Limeade from Sonic, please to tell me because I can’t get those here), make yourself at home and look around.

10 People You See Everyday on Public Transport

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A huge portion of the world utilizes public transport as their primary mode of transportation. After spending a few months doing just that, I have decided that there are 10 People you will see everyday, without fail, when utilizing public transport. Let me know if you’ve seen them, too.

Here we go:

1. The Prideful Regular

He knows the system inside and out – and he wants you to know he knows. He makes sure he pushes the stop button before the mechanism can even announce the next stop. See, everyone, I have the route memorized and I know my stop is next. He exits the vehicle with speed, confidence and a bit of flair. He makes sure not to even glance in the direction of the signs and rolls his eyes at those who do.

2. The Calculating Regular

He goes beyond knowing which subway line he needs and knows which seat (or standing place) near which door on which car of the subway in which to ride in order to exit said subway car the absolutely closest possible to his next destination – either the gangway to his connection or the exit above ground. If the car of his choosing is too full, he is not above waiting for the next train to come along.

10 People You See Everyday on Public Transport3. The Map Studier

This guy checks the stop map after every stop. He counts, and re-counts, how many stops he has until he disembarks. He finger traces the map at least once for good measure. If there is more than one map posted in the train, he will study them all to make sure they are the same. Despite the appearance, he is most likely a regular user of the public transport system.

4. The Just-In-Timer

“Mind the gap.” “Steigen Sie nicht mehr ein.” “Please do not board.” The warning beep sounds and the doors begin to close. Cue this guy. He runs with the speed of a cheetah and just makes it through the doors milliseconds before they close – very often causing collateral damage (toppled children, spilled coffee, etc) in the process. There are two types of Just-In-Timers. The first, is the Melodramatic Just-In-Timer. He makes overly dramatic gestures of relief – releasing a big sigh, wiping fake-sweat from his brow, grabbing his knees and puffing – and chuckles happily at anyone who makes eye contact. It would seem he is pleasantly surprised at his success, but the precision with which he timed his sprint from the escalator ten yards away gives you the feeling most of his public transport entrances go similarly to this one. Perhaps he has a bit of the Calculating Regular in him. The second type is the Non-Chalant Just-In-Timer. He acts as though he wasn’t just nearly decapitated by thirty pound doors slamming shut and takes his place stoically in the crowd of passengers.

5. The Just-Misseder

Although closely related to number 4, our friend here is of the slightly less lucky variety. He gives it the good ole college try but arrives only in time to have the doors quite literally slam in his face. Here you see three types of folks. You have the Laid-Back Just-Misseder. This fellow laughs it off, shakes his head and perhaps even gives a plucky shoulder shrug to the onlookers who did make it into the train as they pull away. Then you have the Angry Just-Misseder. He slaps the closed doors, yells some sort of angry yawp – often with profanity. Angry gestures at the passengers inside ensue, as though they shared some blame in him missing out. Then comes the outburst towards the ever-“inconsiderate” driver/conductor – all to no avail. Finally we see the Just-Kidding Just-Misseder. This unfortunate friend also runs full speed towards closing doors only to find them closed up tight upon arrival. However rather than laughing it off  or getting angry, he just pretends he wasn’t in fact trying to board. It is the public transport version of patting your pockets as though you’ve forgotten something when you realize you’re walking in the wrong direction. All three types are left with the agonizing 2 minute wait for the next train or bus with only their question of What did I do wrong? to keep them company.

6. The Tourist Family

What did they just say? I think we’re on the wrong train! No, I told you this is the right one. We want the red line, right? No, I said we didn’t want the red line. Wait, what did that announcement just say? Is this the last stop? What? We have to get off? Wait, I’m confused….

This poor family just wants to see the Opera House. Or Big Ben. Or the Colosseum. But somewhere their public transport compass has gotten skewed. They battling jet lag, language barriers, culture shock and at any moment you just know they are going to completely lose their minds. This family often comes with exaggerated hand gestures, overly slowed speech, and if American a general volume increase of roughly 30 decibels.

7. The Sleeper

This dude has either spent the night out partying, pulled an all-nighter study binge or is coming off an Energy Drink high. Whatever the cause, he’s sacked out. Everyone else in the train is placing bets on when he will wake up, and if it will be the right stop. You actually get bonus-points if you get to see them wake-up…most times your own stop comes up before you get to see the conclusion to his story.

8. The Kids Fighting Over the Button

Never mind that these kids actually live here and take public transport every.single.day., multiple times a day. They are still going to fight over who gets to push the Stop button. Every. Single. Time. You also can find these creatures in the elevator. The Prideful Regular takes great joy in swooping in to push the button just as the child who has won said fight reaches his grubby little finger out to do it.

9. The Jungle Gym-ers (AKA The Parents Who Are Too Tired to Mind Their Kids)

You’ve seen them. These are the kids doing amateur Parkour in the train car, swinging from handle to handle like monkey bar rings, and spinning around the handle pole like it was a playground apparatus. The parents can often be seen slumped in a corner seat, hair matted, dirt smudged on their faces just trying to maintain composure until they reach their destination. Very often these families start out as number 6 but but the end of the week transform into this.

10. The Loud Music Guy

It doesn’t matter if he’s listening to Marilyn Manson, Pearl Jam, ABBA or Mozart this guy loves his music – and wants you to love it, too. Even though he’s wearing headphones, you can hear this dude’s tunes from the other end of the train car/bus. Often times he is completely stoic, not even a head bob or foot tap. However every now and then, the rhythm gets him and he forgets that others can hear him and he serenades the whole car. Its a treat for the whole family, I tell ya.

So there you have it, the 10 People You Meet Everyday on Public Transport. Have you met these guys? Who else do you see everyday on the bus, subway or street tram? Oh, and by the way, if you’re any sort of regular public transport user, you – like me – have been every single one of these people.

In A Courtyard of Stone

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We enter the empty courtyard on a brisk Sunday morning. The sky, a cloudless azure, is a stark and beautiful backdrop to the towering stone spires and turrets hovering above.

We are stopped in our tracks by the beauty. The stature. The solitude. The silence.

We stood there for an eternity – though really only a moment or two – and took it all in. A lone bench stood sentry between two bare trees. The monastery sandwiched between some classical architecture of which I do not know the name; I only appreciate the beauty.

These buildings, standing longer than my mind can engulf, represent my new home. Beauty. Strength. A deep and rich history – one of which I have barely begun to scratch the surface.

I stand before these structures and all I can do is stare. In awe. My balance waivers at the weight of the emotional and historical atmosphere. Or is that just the cobblestones beneath my feet? Or is it the jet lag? Or brain fog?

Everything is the same color. The same taupe-ish white covers the walls, the spires, the cobbles below. It is stunning. It is imposing.

It is the perfect mirror for the culture surrounding me. So beautiful and intricate and delicate and strong it all looks the same. At first glance. Yet the more I look, the more I learn, the more details emerge. The distinctions that once made it all look exactly the same are now the things that set one thing so distinctly apart from another.

My internal wandering and monologue is interrupted when something catches my eye.

A balloon, as orange as the day is long, bops and swoops on the breeze around the floor of the plaza. It makes no noise. No squealing child chases after it. It dances and sways this way and that. Its bright color and chaotic activity stand in stark contrast to the quiet and stoic setting.

I feel like that balloon.

Standing out, sticking out, no matter how much I try to blend. I just want to fit in; blend in. To know all those unwritten rules everyone else just follows without even knowing it.

Even in those moments in which I exhibit the perfect behavior, my very appearance gives me away. I’m simply an orange balloon in a courtyard of white stone.

And yet, there is something I enjoy about the chaotic blowing of the cultural breeze…of being swept about and dancing around the social cues and unwritten nuances of a city alive with a thousand nations, countless languages, running on the heels of a millennium of history.

One day, and I probably won’t even notice it happen, I will cease to be the orange balloon and will have emerged from my cultural cocoon some creature closer to what is native to this land. I won’t have to think about every step, every word, every road, every turn. Life will just be life, with it’s routines and friends and jobs and laughs.

I hope, though, not to lose some of the sheer awe and delight found in these early days in a new place. I am treasuring the newness; the discovery; the excitement. I will never experience these particular firsts again.

So, while I look forward to the day when I seem to belong in this courtyard, I know it is ok to be a little bit orange for awhile.

To My Husband: A Letter of Thanksgiving

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Marriage ThanksgivingMy wonderful husband and I have been married for almost 13 1/2 years…and I don’t verbally, or publicly, recognize all the amazing, wonderful things he does for me, for our family, nearly often enough. You guys, he takes care of so many mundane tasks and does them so well that I don’t even realize he’s done them. It’s just seamless.

I wanted to do something to publicly thank him for being the man he is, the husband he is, and how he brings light and laughter to our family each and every day.

Join me today at Unveiled Wife as I share a Letter of Thanksgiving to this wonderful man that God has blessed me with. Head on over and read it, and then if you have a blog write your own letter of thanksgiving to your spouse and come link it up!

If you’ve just hopped over here from Unveiled Wife, I want to extend a warm Thanksgiving welcome to you! Feel free to sit down with a nice hot cuppa, make yourself at home and browse around!

Familiar, Yet Changed

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Memories rise like dust in the desert with each step I take in this dry land, familiar yet changed.

Round every corner nostalgia blows afresh. The scent of a memory wafts by, gone as quickly as it came; so quickly one would doubt if ever it was truly there.

This place. It saw me bloom from child to young lady to woman.

Photo by Deibel Photography

Photo by Deibel Photography

These hills hold stories from my heart too numbered to recall. This sky with its glow of golden orange, ablaze in pink and purple –  fury of final light when the sun retires; finally relinquishing control to the night watchmen of moon and stars. It blankets me in memories so faint I wonder are they really there, yet so vivid it steals my breath and beckons tears or laughter seep toward the surface where I’m faced once again with the choice to let them go or force them back.

It’s all right there. The joy. The pain. The grief. The loss of ones loved too deeply for words.

I see your face in the mountainsides; hear your laughter in the coo of the quail on the wind.

The sun kissing my face brings your song to mind – and tears to the brim.

Your smile painted in wispy white across the sky.

This place has changed. Whether by the slow march of time, or crusades in the name of “progress”, the landscape is left forever different – like my heart.

So much is exactly as it was before; right where I left it. And oh so much more is desperately unrecognizable.  It both breaks and refines me.

For there are pieces of who I am which remain right where I left them – cemented and rooted years ago. Yet so much of what who I see is so very unrecognizable I’m both broken and inspired.

So I walk slowly, placing one foot in front of the other, letting the memories waft upward with the dust of what used to be. I breathe them deep, take them in, and let them out once more, minutely changed from what they use to be.

Just like my heart.

I’ve linked this post up with Time-Warp Wife, Women Living Well, Life in Bloom</small>

I’d Have You Over, But…

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Have you ever really felt like you needed to invite a friend or acquaintance over to your house for tea or coffee, but didn’t because the house wasn’t “right?”

Yeah, me too.

A lot.

Photo courtesy of Deibel Photography

You see, I’m not what you would normally consider a “homemaker.” However, I’m redefining my definition of that word. You see, I’m learning there’s a lot more to cultivating a warm, loving home than just sparkling floors and crumb-free counter tops!

Join me over at Intentional by Grace as I talk about leaving the pretense behind and getting on with loving folks! Come share about the times you’ve thrown caution – and dust rags – to the wind and allowed someone in to see the “real” you.

If you’re popping over from Intentional by Grace, I want to say thank you for stopping by! I hope you’ll make yourself at home and stay awhile. Let me know you were here so I can say hello!