The Relativity of Simplicity

Ruby recently moved into her own room. Well, she had some help. But she's now in her own space.

Our experience with the other two girls was the sooner they were in their own room, the better we all slept.

As we moved her few things, namely, her small bassinet pack 'n play and her small bookshelf full of clothes, I was struck by how little there was to move. It took me no more than a few minutes. Granted, she's probably going to suffer from "third child syndrome," where she gets a lot less than her sisters did, just the bare minimum, but it's more intentional than that.

Ellie's first nursery had pictures on the walls, her name in big block letters, a painted changing table/dresser with matching cloth boxes for all her clothes. She had toys and a rocking chair. She had decorations and so many clothes that she grew out of many before she had a chance to wear them.

Ellie's room when she was born.

Hazel shared this room with Ellie while we lived in Fresno, so she also had a well thought-out nursery. Until we got to Guatemala. (I wrote about living with less as we prepared to move).

I don't know if I've gone into detail before, but one of the commitments that we make while serving with MCC is one of "Living Simply." (To see MCC's faith commitments and lifestyle expectations, go here.) Of course, it's a vague term that can be interpreted by many people in different ways. But the idea is there. We've committed to living simply. Reusing, recycling, not buying new things when the used version is just fine. Needs vs. wants. And of course, it's all relative.

When we first arrived to Guatemala, Hazel had no crib. She actually slept in closets and on the floor in a makeshift bed. This had more to do with lack of time to find one. We eventually got her a crib and it worked. But the girls' room was simple. No decorations. The quilt on Ellie's bed was inherited from past workers and pretty threadbare. And it definitely wasn't pink or matching anything in the room.

Our first night in Guatemala Hazel slept in this closet.

Did she care? NOPE. Did she notice? NOPE.

The girls now have bright colored blankets on their bed (but mismatched), and that was a big deal. Their room is decorated with their own artwork. It's simple and cozy.

There is an entire industry in the US that markets to families and babies. Bedrooms have to be painted and color coordinated. Babies need changing tables and swings and bouncers and curtains and their own special towels. There is so much "stuff" we can fill our rooms with that isn't necessary. It's the opposite of simple.

And so, as we were moving Ruby's stuff, I thought about how little it looks like she has. Her corner of the room holds her crib with a mosquito net and her bookshelf full of clothes. She has one shelf in the closet and a box of clothes for when she grows. That's it. The rest of the room serves as a second guest room, and holds our keyboard. And is our linen closet. And storage. I sit on the twin bed to nurse in the night, and it also functions as a changing area. This isn't a nursery worthy of Pinterest. Or even Facebook.

Ruby's corner.

But.

Then, I thought about how little people have here in Guatemala. We visit families of our partners where the entire family sleeps in one bed. Maybe two. There are indigenous customs where having an extra room or a guest room makes zero sense. You use what you have. People we interact with on a daily basis are crammed into a couple small rooms at home.

The day we moved Ruby I posted on Facebook that we were moving her. I felt content with the simplicity of her room, but couldn't help to think about the reaction others might have:

A baby with her own room? What does a 2 month old need with an entire room to herself? 

It's a privilege and a luxury to have enough space in our home to give Ruby her own space. Though it's simple in North American standards, to others, it would be space better used in more practical ways. I'm conscious of how much "stuff" the girls have, even here, how quickly we accumulate.

We make decisions about our home, our kitchen, where we eat, and what we buy through this lens of trying to live simply. But it's all relative. To many people in the States, we are living more simply than we would there, but to those around us every day, we live with more than they will ever have in their lifetimes. It's a fine balance, and I'm still learning how to live within the tension of different definitions of simplicity.

Note: If you are interested in understanding how food and consumption can be done more simply (and why, as Christians we should be good stewards of our resources), check out a few resources that MCC has, including 3 cookbooks. More-with-Less has the subtitle: Recipes and suggestions by Mennonites on how to eat better and consume less of the world's limited food resources. There's also a book by the same author, called "Living More with Less," that expands on many of the ideas that inspired the cookbook in 1976. I recommend them both, as well as my favorite cookbook: Simply in Season: Recipes that celebrate fresh, local foods.

This Post Could Have Several Titles: "Things I Haven't Blogged About", or, "I'm Tired," or, "Why I Haven't Emailed You"

Somehow, language classes are almost done. We fly to Pennsylvania next weekend for a 2-week leadership training with MCC.

I didn't expect a lot of things during these last two months. I didn't expect to feel so tired and mentally exhausted. School is hard with kids, but learning another language is draining in a unique way. 

I've had little motivation to blog or do much "keeping in touch."  I post a lot of pictures on Facebook and Instagram, but it takes little effort to push a few buttons. I know there are friends and family not connected to us there. Sometimes I get overwhelmed just scrolling through status updates on Facebook. Emotionally, I'm unsure how to relate or correspond with people back in the States.

We're here for five years. I want to make an effort but I've stalled. I can't decide if it's the idea of trying to relate my emotions and experiences here, or if it's more simply that I'm tired and still "transitioning." Or both. Or neither. Or not sure how to keep in touch. Or just envious that I can't go pick berries and do fun American summer pasttimes like all my Facebook Friends talk about, or enjoy a BBQ and pool with friends because we have neither a BBQ nor a pool nor friends. In time. In time. 

Last week I felt inundated by so many things that I couldn't organize my thinking. Some of my thoughts are common "Mom" and "Wife" worries, accentuated by being in a new country:

-I haven't started Hazel's first year scrapbook and she turns one next week. 

- Hazel's birthday is coming up. I put so much effort into Ellie's first birthday and this time we'll be lucky if Hazel has a cake on her birthday.

-Until last weekend I hadn't exercised since we got here. I can't go running and I miss my double jogging stroller. I still have weight to lose to get to my pre-pregnancy weight, and Hazel's about to turn one. Frustrating. 

-I should blog and share about some interesting facets of life here in Guatemala. I have several blog posts started in my head. With lots of fun pictures. But I can't seem to get the motivation to turn the computer on and start typing. 

-I'm happy with how my Spanish has improved but simultaneously frustrated with how little I can understand quick-speakers. Slow down, mumblers!

-My floors always feel like they need to be mopped. I have a crawler. I should clean them more often.

-I don't feel like I have energy to spend with my girls when we're all home together, and I find myself impatient when I want to just enjoy time together. 

-Our record for staying healthy as a family since we arrived here is 2-3 weeks. This week Ellie got strep throat and now Hazel and I have some kind of cold, and I had a flu-bug at the same time. 

-Our original vaccination records for our girls have been misplaced. My guess is they got sent to the immigration office with our visa applications, but no one seems to know where they went. Hazel hasn't been in to the dr. since we were in Fresno and we need to take her. 

-I keep finding myself missing "things," mostly, toys for the girls. I am trying to be thankful for what we have and trying to be creative with the girls. But I sure miss our play kitchen. And table and chairs. And easel. And several books. The original idea was to replace those when we got here. But we haven't. Yet. 

I read a lot. Yesterday I read a whole book. There are books sitting around our apartment from previous tenants. I've read several Oprah Book Club selections. Usually I start a book and read it over the weekend. How do I have time to read books yet still feel burdened in so many other areas? It's my outlet. It's my quick, easy, let-me-turn-my-brain-off and not feel overwhelmed escape. And so I pick up a book and I read. Usually during naps and after the girls are in bed. It's the fastest, easiest way for me to unwind. And to shut out the Spanish running through my head constantly. 

So, instead of emailing family or friends or being intentional with people back home, I sit on the couch and zone out. And read. And think about the blog post I could write or the email I should write, and then read some more. 

When we return from PA we will immediately begin three weeks of training for our job here. These two months of language school have been unique. Never again will we have months of time together at home, every afternoon, with the girls. At the beginning of September we will move to a house around the corner. I couldn't be more excited about having a yard and outside space for the girls to play. I think we are a little stir-crazy in a second floor apartment without a yard. We will have 4 bedrooms which means space for guests (hint! hint!) and will be on a quieter spot. These are things to look forward to, with more transitions as well. (We will live in that house for one year before we have to move again). 

As I write this my daughters have just woken up from their naps. They always greet each other with huge smiles after their nap time separation. Talk about joy-filled moments. They are literally dancing and singing and playing together. Though it's been a hard couple of months, there are so many positives. My girls are happy and have transitioned so well to their school. They both are learning Spanish and growing so fast. How is Hazel one next week? And Ellie almost three? 

I'm blessed. I know it.  After writing this post of honest processing with traces of complaining, it has helped me realize I have so much to be thankful for. I need to keep that perspective. This has been an interesting few months and we are gearing up for the next phase. We are excited to finally start working, the whole reason we started this journey in the first place. 

And, right now, it's time to go play blocks with my sweet girls.