Project 365 - Day 27 and 28

Oh so tolerant - Megan felt the need to clean Scout's ears after weeks of dirt.

I exist! My reflection in a fireworks dust covered window

Playground Bully

Being a homeschool family and not living in a place where there are playgrounds, we've not had to deal with playground bullies, until last night.

We were at a restaurant with some friends, one which parents love because it does have a play area for kids. While we were chatting with our friends, one of their girls came over and said that there was a boy pushing other kids. Our friend went over and tried to talk to the boy, but he wiggled away.

This happened again a few minutes later. Our friend then found the boy's mom who was watching the events without intervening, and asked her to do something about it. She also tried in vain to talk to the kid.

Then we heard the report that Megan was crying because the boy had pushed and punched her. Keep in mind, this kid looked to be no more than about five (but he was, as we say in the Brenna household, "sturdy"). Sure enough, Megan was trying to hold back tears because the kid had actually punched her in the face!

Ok, that's when my mama bear comes out. Unfortunately, lacking any experience in this kind of thing and having to deal with it both cross-culturally and in my second language, I was ill-equipped to do it well. I found the mother and said, "Your child just hit my child." She looked at me, a little frazzled, and said, "Yes I know. I just criticized him and told him to apologize."

It was obvious that an apology would not be forthcoming, although the mom was very apologetic toward me (she was also, unfortunately, receiving some of the boy's punches). Our friend tried to get the father and grandparents to help the situation, but their response was, "His mother is there." We were leaving anyway, so we just sort of let it drop and walked away.

When I was in bed later reflecting on it, I wish I'd handled it differently. Granted, I didn't get that angry with the mom or the boy outwardly, and I accepted her apology graciously, but inside I was seething. If I'd had a minute alone with that kid, I think I might have punched him myself. I'm disappointed that this is true of my heart. I know there is part of it that was motivated by love and protection of my child, but another part of it was just me wanting to control my world.

As I thought about it more, I felt sorry for the kid. A friend of ours told us, "You get what you tolerate." He was actually speaking of leadership, but I think it applies to parenting. That boy does those things because his parents have let him. There was no consequence for his actions last night other than, "Don't do that." I felt sorry for the mom too, who obviously has been left to fend for herself with this little guy.

So that was our first playground bully. And apparently some heart awareness for me. :)

What Kind of Dog is She?

If I had a dollar for every time someone has asked me if Scout is a Golden Retriever, I could BUY a Golden Retriever. It's true, she has transformed into quite the shaggy, golden puppy. But when I tell them that she is almost 6 months old, they immediately say, "Oh no, she's almost full grown - she can't be." I tell them she is a "tu gou" - literally a dirt dog, or country mutt. Then they tell me she's a good looking dirt dog. We agree.

If there's one thing that makes us confident that she is NOT a retriever, it's not her size. It's her completely inability to fetch anything. Not a lot of of things make me feel more foolish in life than throwing a toy for a dog only to have her just stare at it, then back at me like, "Well what did you do that for, you idiot? Now it's way over there."

So maybe part Golden Retriever, part something that really hates fetching.

LEAFish thoughts

Now that we're back home, I've been wondering about all that we learned and talked about during re-LEAF. And I'm left wondering, "What now?" I feel like God has made me acutely aware of some places in my heart which I had thought were at rest, but which in fact are not. Maybe on a surface level they were, but He is revealing the deeper roots of pain and loss that fuel habits of self-protection and attempts to find life on my own. 

It's tempting to want to push away those feelings of unrest until I feel comfortable again, but I know that the path to peace isn't away from the pain but through it. As our friend Bruce said, 

“The heart struggling with remaining intact is the heart that, at its core, knows little deep peace, little deep joy, as well as little deep oneness with the Father and others. It fears many things and therefore clings to old familiar structures and ways in a final attempt to keep a sense of identity and control. But it yearns to trust, give freely, and to know the thrill of intimacy. The antidote is, of course, to come to the Father to find what it has always been searching for, and trying to provide on its own. “

Lantern Lighting

Our last night in Thailand, we saw some people lighting these lanterns on the beach. The first time I ever saw this done was in the movie Tangled and I thought, "You can't do that!" Shows what I know (or don't know). You have to light it, then hold it down for awhile. In the meantime, the people held hands and made wishes, then released it. Very fun!

Project 365 - Days 24-26

Great view for our last night

Food on the street in Bangkok - we went Mexican instead

A quick pic while out with Scout - we're home!

What's on My Nightstand?

Well, I'm happy to say that what's on my nightstand is a brand new Kindle, but the book I'm currently reading is an honest to goodness real old fashioned paper variety. It's called The Last Days of Old Beijing, by Michael Meyer, and I can't put it down (except for now, because I need to type).


Meyer spent some time living in the hutongs south of Tian'anmen Square, hutongs being the Mandarin term for narrow alleys and one story courtyard homes that characterized Chinese living for most of its recent history. These hutongs are being destroyed rapidly to make room for development, and most of the residents are forcibly transplanted to new housing developments outside the main city.

I'm loving this book because I am sucker for anything historical, and I generally err on the side of wanting to preserve it regardless of how impractical it might seem to do so. It also gives a fascinating picture of the culture - not only what it would be like to live in a hutong community, but how the government treats its citizens.

So now I'm feeling sentimental about the hutongs, and want to go explore them more before they're gone completely.