Crying Over Boxed Milk

I knew it would be different here. I knew we wouldn’t get some of the same foods we get back home. I knew the living situation wouldn’t be exactly the same. Once we got off the plane, I knew the ease of shopping would be long gone (at least for a while). I knew the language would be different. Obviously.

I knew all of these things. Prepared myself for them. Anticipated it.

What I didn’t expect was it to affect me the way it did. Our first trip to the grocery store was the first of many moments that affected me in a strange way.

Now, I’m not typically a person that cries at the drop of a hat. In fact, I rarely cry in front of people. So when tears started welling up in my eyes at the grocery store, I felt so silly.

The reason I almost started crying: boxed milk. Yes, that’s correct. I cried over boxed milk. Now, I knew that milk came in boxes. I’ve been to countries where milk came in boxes. Drank that milk. Put that milk in my coffee. It was never an issue before.

But suddenly it wasn’t at all what I wanted. Suddenly my comfort zone felt like it was being pushed to the limits. Boxed milk doesn’t need to be refrigerated. It can sit out. Once opened, it can still sit out. Now I don’t know about you, but the thought of leaving milk sitting out, the thought of drinking warm milk or giving this milk to my kids…that just pushed me over the edge.

And Phil wasn’t very helpful. Poor guy. He didn’t realize the craziness that was going on inside of me. He was trying to be practical. You see, there was regular milk there too. It was smaller and more expensive. But it was there.

But my poor unsuspecting husband made us get the least expensive warm boxed milk. It wasn’t until we had gotten home, away from the people, away from our new friend that drove us to the store and showed us how to shop in France, that I finally couldn’t hold it in any longer.

The tears came. The sobs. I couldn’t stop. It was like the airport incident all over again. Phil was speechless. Eventually I told him I was crying about the boxed milk.

He laughed.

And then I laughed. You know, it IS funny. It’s funny and it’s ridiculous. They were sincere tears over something that was so different, something that didn’t matter to me back home because I didn’t know any different, but something that obviously struck a chord inside of me here. But in that moment I realized that it was more than just the milk. It was me adjusting to this newness. This differentness. It was me missing home and what I’m accustomed to.

But it was pretty funny. Crying over boxed milk.

Since moving here only days ago, I’ve realized that we are just going to have to do things a little bit differently. And slowly I’m adjusting. I’m certain there will be more tears over important and even silly things. And I’m sure that there will be more laughter about that as well. It’s the nature of where we are and what we’re doing.

And with that….here are some more things that we are doing just a little bit differently:

Bath time…er…I mean, shower time?

There are no tubs in this apartment. 3 bathrooms, 0 bath tubs. Now…I have 2 small kids that absolutely LOVE bath time. Not only do they love baths, they despise showers! So this is quite the adjustment. I’ve tried numerous things- moving the shower head lower, so they can take little toddler showers. No go.

Putting a wash cloth over the drain, so they can take mini baths. No go! The water still drains and they really don’t like sitting in 2 inch deep water. I guess it’s not the same!

We’re working on getting something that goes into the shower that they can bathe in. If you have any great suggestion- let me know!!

Along with the bath time for the toddlers is bath time for the new baby. Obviously the new baby isn’t here yet, but I like to look towards the future. Our sink is about the size of two bowls. Not even a newborn could fit in there. So without a bathtub and a sink that is too small….I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do when this new little one shows up (probably cry about it).

Tiny sink! I don't think this picture does it justice, but it really is just SO small. No room for a baby in there!

Tiny sink! I don't think this picture does it justice, but it really is just SO small. No room for a baby in there!

Meal time!

We have no highchair for the little guy. I tried putting his food on a blanket on the floor, hoping he’d sit there nicely and eat. I was wrong. He doesn’t sit. And then Jaelyn felt like he was getting a privilege she ought to have- so she insisted she eat on the floor as well. That turned into a fiasco when I heard my husband say “Jaelyn, don’t let your brother step in your bowl. Pax, get your foot out of your sisters bowl”.

My solution: tying him to the chair with a bandana and letting him sit on a stool!

Handsome guy eating dinner...all tied down!

Handsome guy eating dinner...all tied down!

Along with mealtime is portion sizes! My goodness are things tiny around here! We have gone through 4 of those boxed milk cartons since we've been here. And we've been here a total of 3 days. This bottle of juice...not a single serving like you would find in the States! 1 liter is not big enough for a family of 4!

Posted on August 18, 2015 and filed under life overseas, missions.

Will you give baby the breast: On preparing to have a baby in France

Fumbling to communicate. Every appointment is exactly the same. She speaks a little bit of English. I speak even less French (though I must give myself some credit, because after 3 months of French class, I can actually understand and communicate some). I rack my brain for comprehension.

Okay…she said that in English, right? Shouldn’t I know what she’s talking about.

We look at each other, both with the same confused expression. Both with a slight grin, knowing that we want to be able to communicate so desperately. After all, this isn’t some casual conversation with an acquaintance. Having a baby is a pretty big deal. Medical information, knowing what to do and how to do things, getting labs and ultrasounds, registering at the hospital…all of this is pretty important.

Focus Sarah. She’s saying something. She asked a question. No, she is telling me what I need to do.

I stare at her for what seems an inappropriate amount of time to stare at someone without saying anything.

Ah yes! I understood one word and the rest just sort of came together. She will do my group B strep test here and I will need to carry it to the Lab myself. Oh, how fun. That doesn’t sound awkward at all. 

I’m grinning now. Inwardly I’m applauding myself for understanding that. How did I know what she was saying? I must be pretty smart! I must know French better than I think. I will have to remember to tell Phil how smart I am!

I have to keep reminding myself to listen, to focus. It’s so hard to understand what she's saying, if I don't just miss it all completely. If I don’t automatically know what is being said I tend to just tune it out. That’s why listening to dialogue in French class is always so difficult for me.

Will I give baby the breast? What does that mean? She hands me a pamphlet. Oh! Breastfeeding. Will I breastfeed my baby. Well, yeah…I had planned on it.

She just looks at me, shrugs, and continues to ask other questions. Or gives me more information. I can’t be certain.

I’m just going to be honest, I would really prefer completely understanding what is going on when I see the midwife or register to have my baby at the hospital. But, it’s also not been too bad. Luckily I have not been in a situation where the person I’m talking to doesn’t speak one word of English and I can’t understand anything they are saying in French.

(Okay, well there was that one incident at the hospital where the receptionist and I couldn’t communicate at all. I’m pretty sure we had some major miscommunication about paying for my visit. I thought she said I didn’t need to pay her. And so I didn’t. I’m still not sure….)

And so while it hasn’t been the ideal experience that I would have liked, it’s still working out. I have a midwife that does monthly check ups, I’ve gotten two sonograms, I’ve had my labs done, registered at the hospital, and just overall have had an okay experience. I’m healthy and the baby is healthy, and so the few miscommunications and embarrassing grins are just a part of the story.

Here are some things that are different here than having a baby back home (mind you, I haven’t actually had a baby here yet. Still 2 months away):

Modesty: I was warned about the modesty, or lack-there-of, before coming to France. Here is a little snapshot of what it’s like when I go to see the midwife:

I go into her office, which also happens to be the exam room. We go over medical information, I give her my recent lab results. She asks me to step on the scale and then tell her how much it says (really?! You trust me to tell you exactly how much I weigh?!). Then she motions for me to get undressed from the waist down. She doesn’t leave the room. There’s no curtain, no gown, no white paper blanket that I lay over my lap. There’s no pricey dinner, where we get to know each other first. Just plain ol awkward nakedness in her office.

Medical records: In France we are in charge of our own medical records. We are to keep a nice little folder with all of our information, and we take it with us to whatever appointment we have. When I get a sonogram done, I need to retain the information so that I can give it to my midwife. When I get my labs done, I keep the results myself so that I can share them with my midwife. All off my medical records are MY records and I am the one in charge of them. When I eventually go to the hospital to have my baby, I will need to bring all of my records with me. There is no sharing of records among the medical professionals, each person is responsible for their own stuff

Nursing a baby: Ho hum. That’s how I would describe the attitude towards breastfeeding here. Granted, I haven’t been here long. But from what I’ve seen and what I’ve heard, it’s just not something that is highly regarded. Great if you want to do it, but it’s not something that is really pushed for or advocated. And breastfeeding in public…I’ve just not seen it at all. Even when the midwife asked if I was going to give baby the breast, she didn’t seem at all happy about it, didn’t offer up any more information than the pamphlet she gave me.

Hospital Stay: The minimum time to stay in the hospital is 4 days. Longer if you have a c-section or other complications. This, however, really only applies to those that are residents here or have the SSI card here. Foreigners that are paying out of pocket can actually opt to stay just one or two days- though it’s crucial to let them know well in advance that you are planning on staying a very short amount of time.

Different midwife for everything: I have a midwife that I see for my monthly check-ups. She is the one that monitors my weight and blood pressure, and writes me the prescriptions that I need for my lab work, vitamins, ultrasounds, etc. She is the one that I bring all of my lab/ultrasound results to. However, she is not the one that will deliver my baby. I also see a midwife that only does ultrasounds. That is her specialty. I have seen her twice now, and each time she gives me the results directly and tells me exactly what she sees as she’s looking. This is very different in the States, where the sonographer is not allowed to give you your results; the doctor must do it. So that was kind of nice. And then there is a midwife at the hospital- she is the one that will deliver my baby. Chances are, I will not meet her before D-Day.

A different midwife for everything.

Nothing is included: I have heard that it’s very important to bring your own things to the hospital; sanitary pads, baby items, everything. They don’t provide these things, or if they do they are limited (again, I haven’t actually had a baby here yet, so this one is just hearsay).

Cost: The cost of going to the midwife, having ultrasounds and blood work done is quite a bit cheaper here than back home. Like…Quite. A. Bit.

 It is €23 for each midwife visit (which is almost $29) and only €70 to have an ultrasound done (which is about $87). Those are significantly cheaper than back home. Granted, I never used a midwife back home. But I would assume it’s more expensive than $29. When I had my first ultrasound done for this pregnancy back in Texas, it cost me a whopping $280!!

These are just a few of the things I have noticed in my journey of preparing to have a baby in France. I’m not saying it’s good or bad, just different. It’s not what I’m used to, but really…what is these days?!

I am blessed to have a very healthy pregnancy and to be able to communicate with the different medical professionals that I have seen- even if just a little.

And ya know what, it’s super awkward and frustrating at times- but it’s not terrible. And I’m learning how to do things that are uncomfortable. I used to hate talking on the phone when I lived in the States. I think…if I went back home, I wouldn’t mind making phone calls anymore. I think I wouldn’t mind doing a lot of things now, because I’ve proven that I can make it through some pretty uncomfortable situations!

Thanks France!

Posted on November 26, 2014 and filed under missions.

Living in the Unknown


These past few months I have been living in such a way that I have no idea what’s going to happen next. I don’t mean that I don’t know what I’m making for dinner, or I don’t know what I want to do next week. I literally mean that I have no idea what is coming our way.

There is a scariness in not knowing what the future holds. I know that none of us really know what the future holds. This is true. We have no idea what tomorrow will actually bring. But we have a general idea. We have plans for tomorrow and next week and next month and even next year.

But this week…I have no clue what our lives will look like next week. We are in the middle of one of those crazy God moments. When everything is completely out of our control and we have to trust the Lord to lead us down one path or another. We know what we want to do. We’ve planned for what we want to do. And then when something big happens in life and you can no longer count on your plans, it gets a little scary.

We are in France right now, studying French for when we move to West Africa. It’s all been planned out. We will stay here for a year, then move to West Africa and begin our ministry there. We planned what we would bring here to France; things we would need immediately and things we would eventually need for Africa. We’ve planned for having a baby here in France, planned for what our lives will look like once the baby is born. We have plans for our toddlers, on teaching them French and living in various countries and cultures. We have plans for how we will communicate with our families and friends and supporters while we are so very far away. We have plans for how we will deal with homesickness and culture shock and loneliness while we are away. We have all of these plans that we have put in place for where we are at in life right now.

And suddenly we found ourselves uncertain of all of these plans we so carefully orchestrated. Suddenly we are at a cross roads of staying here or returning home. After nearly 4 months in France we now face the possibility that all of these plans we have made for our lives, for our kids’ lives, will suddenly be all for nothing.

Okay, it’s not all for nothing. Just because we don’t know what the future actually holds, it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t plan for things. We should make plans. Sometimes our plans are God-ordained. He is behind them, guiding them, working them out. Sometimes they are just our own plans- things that we want to do. Nothing is wrong with that. And sometimes, the plans we make are God’s plans but then for reasons that we just don’t know, He changes things. Or redirects us for a time being.

One of the things I love about being in situations like this is that it’s all about God. We may have our wants and our desires, but ultimately what happens depends solely on God. It’s terribly scary, but there is also some peace in it. When everything is completely out of your control and you are trusting God to lead your very next step, the next step that will determine your very life direction, there is something so reassuring about that. If God is the one leading, you can’t mess it up. If it’s all in His hands and you are simply following His direction, there is something so peaceful and calming in that.

I hate these situations, but I also love them. We have found ourselves in these type of situations only a handful of times. It’s stressful just waiting and being uncertain of what next week will hold. But it’s also such a relief knowing that God is the one in control and you will clearly see Him moving and working and leading you. You will know for certain that this is what God wants you to do because it is all completely out of your control and manipulation.

Right now, we find ourselves living in this unknown. Uncertain if we will continue living in France for the next 8 months, or moving back home for a period of time. It’s so scary not knowing if we need to make plans for going home (finding a place to live, figuring out what we will do when we get there, getting all of our furniture and things from storage, etc etc) and starting to pack all of our suitcases here, or if we will continue on in France like we had originally planned. Scary, yet a sense of peace. Whatever happens in the next week or so will prove that God is leading us in that specific direction.

If you find yourselves living in the unknown, waiting on God to make the next move, find peace in that. I know that it can be stressful and overwhelming, and if you’re anything like me and need to make plans for the future it can be quite scary. But rest in the knowledge that it is the Lord leading you and trust that He has your best interest at heart- even if it doesn’t make sense to you at the time.

Posted on November 23, 2014 and filed under missions, life overseas.

Making a Home out of a House that is not my own

We move a lot. Since getting married, Phillip and I have moved 9 times to 3 different States and 1 move abroad. That’s 9 moves in 4 years! To say that we’ve never settled into our own home would be an understatement.

Since having kids we have moved 5 times. I remember moving a few times when we were little. It was exciting and fun to move to a different house, but it was also unsettling. You lose what’s familiar, you lose a bit of comfort for a bit.

I know that my kids have been itty bitty with our moves. Even our move abroad, our kids were only 1 and 2. But I have to believe that major life changes, even for such small kiddos, can be quite unsettling to a degree.

One of my goals in moving is to make the transition as easy as possible. On everyone. To have familiar things at our new place as soon as we get there. This can be quite the challenge when moving to a furnished house or apartment where you can’t really bring much of your own things. This has happened a few times in our moves; twice when moving in with family, when we moved to Texas and lived in a furnished house, and right now as we are living in student housing in France.

But you can always bring small things that are a reminder of ‘home’. By home, I don’t mean a specific location or house or building. I simply mean the place of comfort, security and safety for your family. With all the transitions of missionary life, or just moving around in general, it’s been necessary to cultivate a place of comfort and security wherever we are.

Here are some examples of what I have done and continue to do:

Kitchen items. I don’t know about you, but the kitchen has always been the place to be. I spend a lot of time in the kitchen throughout the day; making coffee, breakfast, snacks, lunch, dinner. Currently our living room and kitchen are combined, so we spend an extra amount of time in the kitchen.

Whenever we move I make sure to bring along my favorite kitchen items. All of my spices and cute décor that I have accumulated over the years. Also, my most favorite coffee mug; the one Phil got me for my very first Mother’s Day! And baskets! I try to bring as many of my baskets as I can. I seriously love them and they are useful no matter where we move!

My favorite salt/pepper shaker and spoon rest

My favorite salt/pepper shaker and spoon rest

I'm sure we can get spices here, but I brought along my favorite ones just in case!

I'm sure we can get spices here, but I brought along my favorite ones just in case!

These are just a few of the baskets I brought. So useful for so many things! Note if you're moving abroad: Collapsible baskets are AMAZING!

These are just a few of the baskets I brought. So useful for so many things! Note if you're moving abroad: Collapsible baskets are AMAZING!

Our cozy kitchen

Our cozy kitchen

Some of my favorite hand towels that someone sent to us

Some of my favorite hand towels that someone sent to us

My most favorite coffee mug! Phillip got this for me for my very first Mother's Day!

My most favorite coffee mug! Phillip got this for me for my very first Mother's Day!

For the kids, I bring along their “lovey’s”- which are their favorite blankets and pacifiers. I also bring along some of their favorite toys.

This is Pax's bed with some of his favorite blankets and bear

This is Pax's bed with some of his favorite blankets and bear

Pax's room. And also the place the kids play in the most. It is soon to be Jaelyn's room also...after the new baby is born!

Pax's room. And also the place the kids play in the most. It is soon to be Jaelyn's room also...after the new baby is born!

Changing table in Pax's room

Changing table in Pax's room

Jaelyn's room. Although, it's soon to be the new baby's room

Jaelyn's room. Although, it's soon to be the new baby's room

Reading nook in Jaelyn's room. Complete with some of her favorite blankets from home!

Reading nook in Jaelyn's room. Complete with some of her favorite blankets from home!

Jaelyn's absolute favorite pillow and blanket. Seriously...she will not go to bed without that blanket and needs it whenever she gets hurt or upset.

Jaelyn's absolute favorite pillow and blanket. Seriously...she will not go to bed without that blanket and needs it whenever she gets hurt or upset.

I also bring our favorite pillows and blankets for our room. 

My most favorite blanket! My aunt made it out of my old t-shirts; t-shirts that I have gotten from around the world. I absolutely LOVE this blanket and plan on taking it with me wherever we go!

My most favorite blanket! My aunt made it out of my old t-shirts; t-shirts that I have gotten from around the world. I absolutely LOVE this blanket and plan on taking it with me wherever we go!

But more than simple items, I keep to our same routine and generally try to live in the same manner no matter where we are.

For example, our bedtime routine with the kids. It has been very consistent no matter where we have lived, with just a few minor adjustments depending on our situation. We typically do bath time right after dinner, then we get the kids into their jammies, read a few books, sing some of their favorite songs, pray, clean up our toys and into bed!

With moving to France though, we have had to adjust the whole bath time thing. We don’t have a bath tub here. For a few months we were using an infant tub to bathe the kids. Chaos ensued! It just became too much to try and bathe them every night and to bathe them together. So we changed up that part of our routine and bathed the kids separately on different days. But otherwise, everything pretty much stayed the same (we were able to find a small inflatable toddler tub. But it's also too small to bathe them both together, so we are sticking with our new routine for the time being).

Infant tub for two toddlers? At least they get clean!

Infant tub for two toddlers? At least they get clean!

This toddler tub isn't really that much bigger, but it does allow for more water.'s usually just one kiddo in there at a time. This night they insisted on taking a bath together

This toddler tub isn't really that much bigger, but it does allow for more water.'s usually just one kiddo in there at a time. This night they insisted on taking a bath together

Our only 3 piece bathroom. We have two bathrooms with a shower and a sink and one with just a toilet. Very interesting, France. Very interesting

Our only 3 piece bathroom. We have two bathrooms with a shower and a sink and one with just a toilet. Very interesting, France. Very interesting

I think it’s very important to maintain consistency when moving around, especially with Littles. It takes away that element of surprise and anxiety that they may experience with a big change.

I would say keeping to the same routine is one of the biggest ways that I am able to make a house a home no matter where we are.

Having a “homey” environment is something I believe my kids and my husband need. I also need that. It’s so important to be able to come to a safe haven, a place with familiar things when everything else in the world just seems so chaotic.

Moving to another country where you don’t know the culture or the language can be very unsettling. But it makes it bearable and doable when you have your own home that you can retreat to at the end of the day.

Moving can be very difficult. Never settling down to one location isn’t easy. But there are ways to make it less hectic on the family, and that is what I strive to do for these people that have been entrusted to my care. No matter how many different places we live in and no matter where we end up, I will always do my best to make a house a home- even one that is not my own.

Posted on November 22, 2014 and filed under life overseas, missions.

Green means Go, right?!

I’m just going to be honest. Today was not great. We went on an excruciatingly long walk. Right in the middle of the kid’s naptime. I thought for sure we’d be back before they needed to nap. But no, I was wrong.

We managed to lose our map after being gone over an hour.

And then there’s the embarrassing alarm incident.

We were in a grocery store and I was going to walk outside and wait for Phil. The kids were getting a bit loud, and if you’ve ever been to France you will see why that’s a problem. In America kids are loud. We try to quiet them, but they get even louder. It’s usually just expected. You may get sideways glances from young people without kids, or old crotchety folks, but for the most part you will just get sympathetic looks from people who know that raising little hellions isn’t always easy.

Well not so in France! Apparently there is something in the milk here that makes children behave ALL THE TIME in public. So for a child to start whining and yelling and carrying on, well…it’s a pretty big deal.

So I decided to take my rowdy duo outside.

I wondered about the door. It didn’t open automatically like all the other ones did. There was green writing on it. But I can’t read French. Naturally I assumed green writing meant it was safe to go through. After all, green means go, right?! So I pushed the door open.

Loud horrendous beeping!!! People gawking awkwardly. I knew my face turned a few shades of red. I could feel it. I looked sheepishly at the cashier standing there. He just shook his head no.

I said sorry. In English. I hadn’t yet learned the word in French. Why didn’t I learn the word in French?!

I turned and tried to nonchalantly walk out the correct exit with the alarm still blaring and people still looking at me like I was a giant blue rabbit pushing my litter of bunnies around in a buggy; not really sure what to make of it, but kind of puzzled by what was happening in front of them.

I walked outside, across the parking lot and to the side walk before the tears started flowing. Phil eventually followed suite (I didn’t even bother waiting for him. I just had to get out of there) and wanted to know why I was in such a foul mood.

I blubbered that I was going home. He seemed to still be puzzled and then I half yelled that I just got really embarrassed and wanted to go home! Ah, he finally got it! The alarm incident was ME!

Phillip has a way of turning sour situations into something much better. I’m not going to say that he is always a glass half full kinda guy, but when it comes to me he always tries looking on the bright side. Or at least helping me to see things from a different perspective. He doesn’t like when I’m upset or sad and always tries to make me laugh.

So the entire walk home he made jokes. Jokes about going through the wrong door. And every time he would say “too soon?” And it was too soon. At first. But by the time we got home, I could clearly see how comical the whole situation was, and I even stopped tearing up when I thought about how embarrassed I was.

I’m grateful for my husband who always has my back. I wouldn’t be able to do this without him. He is my rock and he is my biggest fan. He works so hard to take care of me and the kids and to show me how much he loves me. He goes out of his way to make me laugh and to be sure that I am happy. How did I get so lucky with such an amazing man?!

So while the day started out as not so great, it turned out to be a pretty okay day. And all of the credit goes to my love!

This Guy: The Best thing that has ever happened to me!

This Guy: The Best thing that has ever happened to me!

Yeah, we are that cute!!

Yeah, we are that cute!!

Posted on September 25, 2014 and filed under life overseas, missions.

The Hardest Part about this Whole Thing

For the past 2 years I have been blessed to stay home with my kids. It has become my life. I absolutely love it. Yes it gets challenging and frustrating, and there are times when I would like to be alone (or even just pee alone), or I feel like throwing a tantrum like my kids. But overall it is such a blessing to get to be the one to get my kids out of bed in the morning, take care of their needs and wants throughout the day and tuck them into bed at night.

Being a mom and staying home with my kids has always been something I’ve wanted to do. It’s my dream job. I wouldn’t want it any other way (on most days).

So naturally one of the hardest things for me on this endeavor to France to learn French is that I have to put my kids in the nursery. The culture shock is hard, missing people from back home is hard, the unfamiliarity of this country and not knowing the language yet is hard. But it doesn’t compare to how difficult it has been for me to drop my kids off with strangers in the morning and pick them back up in the evening.

I don’t know what they do all day. I don’t know what they eat. I don’t know how they nap, if they cry, or how they are feeling all day long.

What I do know is that someone else is taking care of them. I know that I miss them like crazy and I can’t stand not being the one to tend to their wants and their needs.

Indeed it is good that they are there, because it gives me the opportunity to learn French in an intensive classroom setting. I get hours a day to study and learn and practice. It’s useful and it’s beneficial. The kids are also getting acquainted with someone else taking care of them, learning some French, playing with other children. It’s all good. It’s all nice. But I still don’t like it one bit.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel though. And much sooner than a year from now when we are done with language school and making our way to West Africa. In January I am going to be having baby #3. And because of that, I have the option to stay home with the kids and hire a language tutor.

This is great news! And for more than my selfish reason of wanting to be the primary caretaker of my babies; Saving!

Not having to pay for 3 kids to be in the nursery is going to save us quite a bit of money. And we’ll be able to use that money to hire a great tutor (as well as save up for baby/children's expenses! Apparently children can get a bit pricey...especially the whole processes of delivering one!) that will help me continue to learn French well.

But in the meantime, I’m struggling just a little bit with missing my babies.

Posted on September 14, 2014 and filed under missions, life overseas.