Let me keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still
and learning to be astonished.
–Mary Oliver
New Birth Story!
I added a beautiful birth story to the collection. This Hypnobabies birth was with the new Greenville Midwifery Care at GHS. It was mom’s first baby! Get a kleenex before clicking over.
Local Film Screenings for World Doula Week
World Doula Week is March 22-March 28. The upstate is celebrating by offering free screenings of the film Doula!, a one hour documentary following the role of doulas in three positive birth stories. Pick a showing and bring a friend.
Friday March 23rd: Cornerstone Family Medicine in Greer. 6:30pm
Saturday March 24th: Natural Baby in Greenville. 2pm (This event begins with the regularly scheduled Blessingway which will be short this month to make room for the film).
Monday March 26th: Labors of Love Birth Center in Spartanburg. 6:30pm.
Tuesday March 27th: Baby Impressions in Greenville. 10am.
This film is a great way to introduce partners, family, and others to the role of doula.
Chasing ants, geckos, and grace
My final post about the trip to Cambodia.
We went to share life with the my sister and her family. So let me talk about where/how they live.
They live in a third floor apartment at the end of a dirt road. The apartment is spacious and has a wrap-around balcony with a great view. Two bedrooms are air-conditioned. The rest of the apartment is hot, hot, hot! The kitchen is insanely hot.
All the doors and windows have bars because from time to time someone wanders up. Thievery can happen even with bars and we were told not to leave anything sitting out that could be pulled through the bars. One afternoon, we returned home to find we were locked out. So we slid Norah through the 5 inch space between the bars, coached her to climb on the refrigerator to get the keys, and unlock her very first padlock! She called herself superhero the rest of the day.
Yep, she really did fit through that window!
Noelle wages a constant war against ants. Upon arrival, we were taught proper protocol for food and crumbs. Namely, food scraps go into a bag in the freezer to await trash day and NOT in the trash can. Crumbs must be immediately swept up. We had to stay one step ahead of those watchful creatures. Here is a picture of the one set of shelves that is ant-proof. See the bowls that the shelf legs sit in? Noelle carefully organizes the packed shelves a few times a day.
The lizards were less of a threat but we were instructed to close cereal bags tightly and check the toaster before using it. Noelle’s had a few reptilian surprises. The girls, however, loved seeing geckos run about the house. The doors and screens were kept closed because of mosquitos.
They have a washing machine. The laundry is hung on the balcony to dry. Sometimes the wind blows too strongly and the laundry flies away. Sometimes they never find their lost items. Of course, shoes are not worn inside Asian homes. As a result, my feet always felt dirty and I was constantly washing them. Random cuteness:
They have riverfront property. In their backyard, flows the Smelly River. Mmmm-hmmm. And we knew precisely which way the wind blew from the smell. The smelly river is coated with a film of some sort and the banks are littered with trash. Everywhere fires burned, smelling pretty toxic. I’m pretty sure some sort of large reptilian monster lives in it.
Noelle and I took the kids on an evening walk along the river armed with rocks to throw at aggressive dogs. We got caught in the dark and I admit the rustlings in the grass and the shadows of rats were creepy.
They have a part-time househelper who is precious. She has the kindest smile and softest voice. And she cuts their fruit and meats into to tiny bite-sized pieces. I loved that part! She helps Noelle with the market shopping, food prep, and cleaning. In Cambodia, it would be offensive for a westerner to live there without employing a local. I enjoyed listening to Noelle and her househelper speak Khmer. I was shocked that the househelper wore sweaters and socks in the heat. We visited during their cool season. “Cool season” even though we were baking. And swimming in pools. Noelle says that her househelper is often surprised at foreign practices like putting children to sleep in separate rooms from their parents.
A few doors down from their apartment is a “training center” that is well-known for the trafficking of young girls. This exact facility has even been featured by a prominent American news syndicate. It is pretty clear from the bold sign out front that they are all about overseas bond labor. The owner is well-connected to a government official. It was heart-breaking to watch from Noelle’s balcony as girls arrived or departed with suitcase in hand.
And to be blunt, prostitution is so very visual. Sure it isn’t called prostitution. It has milder names like massage parlour, beer garden, karaoke bar, nightclub. But the truth of it is that a foreigner can order a child be delivered to his hotel room like he might order a pizza. It isn’t even all that expensive. Also because of a belief that sex with a virgin has special healing powers, the younger the child, the better.
So yeah, it got to me. And I was only there a little while. I knew I was going home. Noelle and Zach live there. They are raising their son there. It is their home. They have already had confrontations. When Noelle lived there before, human trafficking recovery was all she did. She saw police raping victims brought into the jail, she saw children re-trafficked, and she saw infants. Infants.
How? How do you muster the joy? How do you not turn tail? The evil is so huge, the statistics are too big, the corruption is massive.
So lest I give the impression that they live it up with their househelper who cuts fruits in bite-size pieces and their two air-conditioned rooms, let me be clear: they are doing some serious superhero work.
And they cling to every grace. They fast regularly, triple-check their every move, and keep accountability strong within their team. They crave our prayers because they know –know with a capital KNOW–how essential prayer is to their daily functioning.
They know –know with a capital KNOW–when they are not covered by it.
Noelle and Zach are about being good neighbors–loving people and pointing out grace where they see it. They sacrifice so much to do this work. Family, paychecks, friends, holidays, health-care, native language, car, home equity, nest egg, central air, snow, critter-free homes, reliable mail delivery/trash pick-up, and so much more. Why would anyone choose to do this job?
Love. A big, authentic, deep-in-the-gut love.
So please remember them from time to time. And maybe say a few prayers for them. Maybe even support them with your dollars or send a care package.
Upcoming Classes
I am teaching another round of parenting classes for Natural Baby. This series is so much fun! It covers everything I WISH someone would have taught me before my babies were born. Please let your expectant friends know about the series. They can sign up for the entire six weeks for 80.00 or choose individual classes for 20.00. The cost is per couple although many students come alone. Schedule below:
March 21: Try to See It My Way (Infant Communication)
March 28: Breastfeeding
April 4: Now What? The First Six Weeks
April 11: Sleeping Like a Baby
April 18: Having a Baby without Breaking the Bank
April 25: Parenting the First Year
My upcoming Hypnobabies class is full. I’m accepting students for the next open series which begins Sundays (5pm-8pm) May 6. Email me if you are interested: j_byers (at) bellsouth (dot) net.
I’m teaching a Positive Discipline Class for Toddlers and Preschoolers March 31 from 1pm-3:30pm in Greenville.
Why can’t we have a tuk-tuk?
Traffic in Phnom Penh.
After the initial shock passed, I began to understand how Cambodian driving worked. Through my American lens, it should never work. Every third car/tuk-tuk/bike should be an accident. A big accident (*). But in Cambodia, it works and here is why: drivers yield. There is a hierarchy. Big trucks, SUV’s, cars, tuk-tuks, motos, bikes. The little guys yield to the big guys. The way I see it, Americans have some, er, entitlement issues. No one should ever cut in line, pass us, slow us down, jam traffic, etc. And we’re certainly not going to yield just because someone is bigger than us. No sir. What I observed was an absence of road rage. I guess it happens here and there. But if Americans drove in that sort of traffic every day, we’d implode or hurt someone.
And to give you a snippet of what I’m talking about, here is a clip of our tuk-tuk making a left turn. Notice no one in our party even notices the oncoming traffic. Because we know it will yield.
Now crossing the road on foot was a different story! A nightmare sort of story. Still, the traffic somehow always yielded and somehow we always made it across safely. I may have closed my eyes once or twice.
When tuk-tuk riding wasn’t putting Cedar to sleep, she and Norah were interacting with other drivers. Or Asher was throwing things out of the tuk-tuk. Or everyone was partying with the grandparents.
I also loved how kid-friendly both Thailand and Cambodia seemed. Children were expected to be children –noisy, wiggly, clumsy, curious. But in other ways, kids were treated with respect and expectation. At the restaurants we visited, kids were served out of the same tall, unlidded glasses as the adults. My girls fell in love with iced coffee with condensed milk. And flavored steamers.
Norah was also welcomed and gushed over when she went to language school with Noelle. Norah was able to go to two classes and Noelle’s instructor spent time teaching her Khmer.
And the girls loved getting pampered at spa that provided skill-training and employment for at-risk girls.
Noelle says it isn’t unusual for a server at a restaurant to pick up Asher and walk around with him when he gets fussy. If that doesn’t work, they’ll start giving treats.
I think I’ll do one more post about Zach and Noelle’s home and neighborhood. Then back to regular birthy talk! I’m working on a post about the Jedi Midwife and a little something about Dr. Polo Shirt.
* If Noelle has never told you about the time she tried to drive a moto into a busy Cambodian street, you should really ask her about that…
Sharing life with the Slagels
This trip to Cambodia, we didn’t do any touristy things. I didn’t want to take the girls to the Killing Fields or Tuol Sleng. And I really didn’t fancy hopping another flight to visit Siem Reap and watch my littles climb all over crumbling temples. What I wanted to do was share day-to-day life with Noelle. I have one or two more posts about these experiences and then I’ll be back to my usual blog chatter.
Century Plaza
There is a sprawling park/playground near the riverfront. We went during the day to play. There I learned Cambodia has real “playground police.” We had a whistle blown at us multiple times for climbing on play equipment as adults — even to rescue Asher!
We went once at night for a picnic. It was vibrant and so much fun! There was a giant Zumba class at one end of the plaza. At least 100 people dancing. Exercise must be a government focus. Along side-walks, it was not unusual to see exercise equipment free for use.
A giant fountain was lit up and the water show was entertaining.
But the real fun for our kids was spontaneous dancing. A guy was doing karaoke on one side of the plaza. We never did understand why. Regardless, Norah, Cedar, and Asher danced for over an hour; weaving through the passing people.
At one point, the kids had a crowd of people gathered around them and a few other kids joined the fun. You can’t see them well in this clip but you’ll get the idea.
Russian Market
By far, my favorite part of Phnom Penh is the Russian Market. Hot, crowded, dark, smelly, dirty. Stalls packed tightly together. Bodies squeezing past each other. Haggling. Lots of haggling. Sounds like fun, yes? Oh my. The last time I went, I was newly pregnant and the fish stalls/heat/smells almost undid me. But the fruit, oh the fruit!
Jewelry, scarves, fabric, household goods, fruit, chickens, fish, clothes, DVDs, shoes, bags. None of it priced. Here is how it goes: I pause to admire a dress. The seller (a girl of maybe 20 yrs) immediately “you like?” “How much?” I ask. “For you, special price. 7.00.” At this point, I have a choice to move on or stay. Let’s say I stay. She draws me into her little stall and begins pulling out dresses from thin air and handing them to me. “Oh you look pretty in this one.” “you are so pretty.” “this one for you.” “I give you good price for this.” “2 dress for 10.00.” And at that point, this super saleswoman has done her work: complimented me, made me feel I have to buy something since she unfolded so many items, and given me a bulk discount. But there is still haggling to be done. It really is fun because the prices are low anyway and the sellers are so sweet, smart, and sassy. And if I didn’t like something or it didn’t fit, I could bring it back (no receipt!) for a refund. Here is my dad buying a tool to fix something at Noelle’s apartment. I don’t know how he found the right things!
Now Cedar hated the market. Because everyone touched her. Her hair, her cheeks, her body. They wanted to pick her up. They laughed when she screamed at them “Don’t touch me!” And Norah hated the market because it was hot and everyone noticed Cedar.
Emotions
One of the BEST parts of my trip was the last day. I had a rough morning. I got a facial at an NGO that employs women who have been pulled from the trafficking industry. I cried a little knowing what this beautiful girl placing hot towels on my face had been through. Norah was grumpy the whole time I was trying to relax. We went downstairs for sweets and she threw a tantrum (!), kicked the plastic table with our coffee and smoothies. I had to remove her and walk down a side-street until she calmed. When I came back, Cedar had a tantrum and threw her large chocolate smoothie into the wall. I cried. So my parents took the girls and gave Noelle and I some time to shop. But you know what we also did? We sneaked in a quiet lunch at Cafe Yejj. And I cried there, too. Because I realized that emotional life in Cambodia is hard. Evil is so visible there. The heat is stifling. Transportation is frustrating. Communication is difficult even for someone who has learned Khmer. Did I mention the evil so visible there? And it brings out all your stuff. All your issues bubble up and spill out. My kids behaved very differently in Cambodia than in Thailand. They were easily angered. I was easily angered. That is what I wanted — to share life with my sister. I couldn’t understand this before. She had tried to explain it to me. Now I know, or at least I had a taste of it. A bitter taste. And I know precisely how to pray for Zach and her.
The last quiet moment with Noelle before we left that night. A sweet prayer, conversation, and tears shared over yummy food.
Welcome to Cambodia
Note: I have no pictures from this part of our travels. For some reason I wasn’t thinking about the camera.
Four weary adults and three kids flew from Bangkok to Phnom Penh.
The immigration process was hilarious. What seemed like thirty men in khaki uniform stood behind a counter. The energy was high. The communication was sketchy. When my turn came, the stern fellow asked for a certain amount of cash, Visa pictures, and my passports. I handed them over. My passports were passed along the line of men. I stood among the crowd of anxious tourists trying to keep my girls from running away and keeping tabs on my passports. Suddenly, a khaki uniform tapped me from behind and said, “Are these your children?” showing me their passports. I said yes and he handed me the girls passports. I continued to wait for mine. A man who could barely pronounce “john doe” held up a passport and butchered yelled the name to the crowd. That lucky traveller stepped forward to claim the prize. We all pressed forward. Finally, my name was called and passport in hand, I reunited with my parents and Noelle.
The last time I visited, I forgot to have a Visa picture and the only other westerner on the plane gave me one of hers. She was at least 30 years older than me with salt-and-pepper hair, glasses, and a huge nose. The passport police never noticed.
Noelle secured two taxis. My parents rode in one and we were in the other. Noelle was careful to explain to both drivers that my parents did not know where we were going and that taxi should follow our taxi.
It was rush hour. Cars and tuk-tuks so close we could count the teeth of the person beside us. Bicycles and motos slinking between the tiny passages between cars. It was madness.
Once Noelle’s teammate was on her bicycle when a car stopped on her foot! She tapped the glass and asked the driver to please move forward. Yikes.
Transportation is one of the biggest challenges my sister faces. She lives on a nameless dead-end dirt road. She has no address. She can only point and give instruction as the driver drives. Imagine when she tries to have pizza delivered!
At dark, we pulled down the bumpy ally and came to the dead end. And noticed the other taxi was gone. The driver said, “What? They don’t know where to go??” Noelle told him to call the other driver and give him instructions on how to get there. He said he was lost and couldn’t do it. So.
I am left standing in the dark with my two girls and everyone’s luggage. Noelle and Asher have gone with Mr. Taxi Driver to find my parents and lead them home. Before she left, Noelle gave me keys to the padlock (!) on her third floor apartment. A helpful man moves the luggage to the foot of the exterior stairs. Does he live here? Will he steal the luggage? I don’t know. I see some scrawny chickens, a sleeping dog, and dark houses. I have no idea where I am.
We venture up the bazillion stairs. I assume I’m at the right place but I can’t get the padlock open. Maybe I need to go up one floor. The next floor up is dark. Norah takes off running along the balcony and I hear “PING.” Norah drops flat on the tile. A piece of metal scaffold protrudes from the window and across the balcony. Just at 6-year old nose level.
Visions of flying back to Bangkok for medical care cross my mind.
But, after much crying (perhaps by both of us), we went back down a floor and managed to get the padlock open. We were sweaty and thirsty. I left the girls and went to drag one piece of luggage up. The apartment was HOT! After finding fans and lightswitches (and warm homemade pizza and banana bread left by Noelle’s househelper), we felt better.
Better still when Noelle arrived with my parents!
Wecome to Cambodia.
ETA: Here is some daytime footage of the bumpy road to Noelle’s apartment. This guy is one of Noelle’s usual drivers so he knew the way.
The Thai Tooth Fairy
Our six year old, Norah, has an interesting arrangement with the Tooth Fairy. For each lost tooth, she alternates getting money with getting sparkled.
I would like to interject that while some of Norah’s friends get paper money, (“the green kind, mama!”) Norah gets the silver kind.
We expected Norah to lose a tooth in Thailand. But I wasn’t concerned because it was money time. Not sparkle time. I even had a plan to give her a U.S. quarter, Thai baht, and Khmer Riel.
A few days into our vacation, Norah’s tooth was disgusting. It was so loose, that when the wind blew, her tooth moved. And she loved it. She loved grossing everyone out. Here she is singing and trying to make her tooth look as Nanny McPhee as possible:
Of course she couldn’t eat much with her tooth hanging loose. So, she got sick. And threw up in my cereal bowl at breakfast. In front of the entire resort. And since the kitchen staff didn’t speak English, I wasn’t about to hand them a bowl of puke. I ran to the road and disposed of it in a public trashbin. Then returned the bowl to the kitchen. Gross.
Scott and I sat Norah down and gave her dire threats and warnings if she didn’t pull the tooth. We may have mentioned feeding tubes. I mean, as a homeschool lesson. Education is important.
Regardless, she FINALLY pulled the tooth. And happily announced just before bedtime that she had decided to be sparkled instead.
We’re in a remote beach town community whereabouts in Thailand. Where am I going to find glitter??
Around 11pm, I ventured into the dark resort dining room to make a press of coffee. And I look around. I see Christmas decorations. I see seashells covered in silver glitter! Hmmmm. I rummaged around the dining hall and found a stash of glue and glitter! What are the chances?
Then the night security guard busted in to see what I was doing. I smiled and waved gesturing to the glitter. He didn’t speak English either.
Strange American.
Back in my room, I covered some of seashells I found earlier that day with glitter as a tooth fairy gift. Then I carefully painted glue/glitter fairy footprints on Norah’s arms and cheeks. And sprinkled gold star confetti from the craft stash around her covers and floor. And certainly, I left a note from the tooth fairy.
She was thrilled. All was well. The tooth was gone, the day was saved. Her appetite returned. My cereal bowl was safe.
I’m sorry about the puke story. I really wanted you to feel how this tooth was affecting our vacation. While gross, I maintain its relevance.
Planes, Tuk-tuks, Song Taus, Vans, Shuttles, Mopeds, Taxies, Boats,and KIDS!
Travel with kids is challenging. And it is endearing! Seeing experiences through their eyes is the best! Here is a summary of travelling to Thailand and Cambodia with my 6 year old and 2 year old.
Preparation
For a few weeks before take-off, I prepared the girls. We looked at pictures of the plane and I showed them what their seat would look like. We practiced buckling up and talked about what take-off would feel like. We gave them new bags and let them select special toys to pack. I also prepped them for airport security.
I stalked travel blogs and processed my fear with anyone who would listen. Over and over.
I packed my Osprey bag o’ many pockets with everything I could think of: healthy snacks, homeopathic remedies, changes of clothes, wet wipes, diapers, hand sanitizer, gum, ginger, peppermint oil, small trash bags, neck pillows, a few surprise toys, iPad loaded with WonderPets, trayblecloths, and every trick I could think of.
Checking my bag one more time. Can you feel my fear?
Security
Departure security was a breeze. We had to go through once in Atlanta and again in Korea. The girls were champs. I was thankful I read ahead of time that kids no longer need to take their shoes off. I saw some parents dealing with kid shoes when they didn’t have to. When we left Cambodia, Cedar got a pat down. She was furious but complied. The worst security was returning to Atlanta. After going through customs, we had to go through security again (!! after we landed, grrr). My foggy brain wasn’t on top of it. I didn’t realize Norah had a bottled water from the flight. She got into a screaming match with a TSA agent when her water was taken. It was ugly. Meanwhile, I inadvertently took a set of silverware (knife included) from the plane which made it through without notice. I guess everyone was distracted by my 6 year old screaming.
When we flew from Bangkok to Phnom Penh, Scott flew back to the US. I failed to prepare Norah for this separation which happened rather quickly. So going through passport control and security in Thailand? Norah was crying and yelling, “I want my daddy. Don’t take me from my daddy. Daddy!! Daddy!! I don’t want to go with YOU!” I didn’t think I would make it through with my apparently abducted child. I was also afraid she was going to bolt when we had to walk through the metal detectors separately.
The Flights
Except for the flight-we-will-not-speak-of, the flights were smooth. I wasn’t able to sleep or relax and had to be creative to stay one step ahead of the girls, but I was happy. The first flight I ever took my children on was 15 hours! Where is my medal?
- I used a babyleg to cover Cedar’s buckle during take-off so she would be less inclined to unbuckle.
- I removed the girls shoes right away to minimize accidental kicks to the seat in front of us.
- I asked the flight attendant to disable the “call” button on Cedar’s controls.
- I filled a prescription of Valium for my sweet husband.
- I packed kid-friendly headphones for the girls and Scott packed a splitter so they could watch the same screen.
We also packed LIGHT. No stroller or carseats. Minimal luggage. Smallish soft-structured carry-on bags. I know many parents have to travel with gear. I don’t think I would have managed that gracefully.
Korean Air was amazing. There was always a flight attendant walking around with someone’s baby or toddler. They tried so hard to convince Cedar to go with them. She wasn’t falling for it. They kept the kids on a sugar-high which I wasn’t thrilled about. Every time they saw a child, they offered candy/brownie/cookie. An example of the kid’s meal: corndog, spaghetti, potato chips, yogurt, juice, pudding, candy bar, brownie, bread/butter/jam, and tiny packaged snacks I didn’t recognize. Even the breakfast meals looked like that. It was astounding.
Other brownie points for Korean Air:
-
They were very much on “crying child patrol.” If a child was fussy, they must be soothed at all costs. Which meant, even if the seatbelt sign was on, I was encouraged to hold Cedar. Children were allowed to break any rule.
-
The toys they gave the girls were perfect. Magnadoodles, aquadoodles, colored pencils, crayons, stickers, stencils, coloring books.
-
There were video games, kids music, good movie choices, cartoons, and read-aloud books.
-
Soft blanket, pillow, bottled water, slippers, toothbrush/paste, wet wipes, headphones in every seat.
-
Lots and lots of food and drink.
At one point, I thought “Wow, this is started to get really challenging. We must be almost there.” That is when I took this picture. Yep. Only half-way.
The final return flight was the best. Norah sat with my mom on a different row. Cedar slept 10 of the 14 hours! Of course, much of that was ON me which meant I didn’t get to move much.
Jetlag
The time difference was 12 hours. When we arrived in Thailand, jetlag only affected Cedar. The first night, she stayed awake crying, “It NOT nighttime. It NOT.” In a bleary daze, I decided to give her half a melatonin that I’d brought for us. She was asleep in 15 minutes. So I used the melatonin for the first few nights.
Coming home, the jetlag hit both the girls. And for almost a week, they woke between midnight-3am asking for breakfast. Ah well. I just got up with them, poured cereal, and put a movie on.
They loved every type of transportation we tried. I worried we would never get them buckled in carseats again!
P.S. one of the strangest things I saw: A woman with a newborn in a bucket-style carseat. The baby was strapped in. But the woman was carrying the carseat while riding on a moto. The carseat was sort of dangling from the side. A man was driving and a toddler was seated between them. I’m not sure why she bothered with the carseat.
Inexplicable Ways 