Chiang Mai

More than halfway through 2016.   What a privilege to have been able to call this place home for a few months in our life.  M has thrived.

2016

I am averaging one blog post every 6 months. Nonetheless, I'm thankful for this space.

We just completed our longest trip as a family. We took a month off for the holiday and flew to California, Taiwan, and the Philippines.  Again, I made the mistake of booking too many flights.  I believe we counted 10 in a month, two of which were 10-13 hours long.  Oof.

Despite the tantrums, shifting sleep schedules, and awful jetlag, it was worth it.  2015 was a big year for me in terms of adjustment to motherhood and work-life balance.  It was not easy.  There were rough patches and more than a handful of times that I wanted to quit my job.  But we made it through the year. In some ways this trip felt like a celebration of what we have been through and what we can do as a family. While this trip, along with the others we made in the year, did not help my precarious daily balancing act, it reminded me that parenthood is what we make of it and M will be a happier, healthier child if her mother is thriving.

I have not made resolutions in years. For the year ahead, I have two concrete goals, apart from the "usual" (i.e., respect boundaries between work and personal life, travel, own my work).  The first: to navigate an international move with my family, which will happen in a little over a month and which I am trying to do very carefully.  The second: to grow into my new role at work, but in a way that allows me to carve out more time with my family.

Panama

Do folks blog anymore?  These spaces have been so quiet, recently with a few of my favorite blogs closing.  I guess many of us who want to document life via social media moved to less intensive forms of documentation, like Instagram, long ago.  But I'm finding more and more that I want to write in this space, even if it's just a picture and a few words about how the month treated me - not that I have a lot of time.  

Today, with M asleep and the sun too hot for me to want to venture outside for too long, I want to write a few words about our trip to Panama, which we planned as a stopover en route to California. In her first year, we've clocked a decent amount of mileage domestically with M, but this was our first international trip as a family.

Traveling with an 11-month old child was fun, as well as challenging.  Gone are the days where I can pack a small suitcase and be out the door with minimal planning. Baby infrastructure is needed, if only for ease of mind. Thankfully, M traveled so well.  She was happy and curious as we explored Panama City and enjoyed the attention of the many strangers she came across. She handled the bus rides, taxi rides, and metro/subway rides like a champ.  She even tried Panamanian food. Perhaps most importantly, she tolerated the 5 flights we scheduled over a period of 2 weeks. (Not to self: That's too many flights.)

There were, of course, rough patches, including shifting sleeping schedules.  Also, flights with a curious baby are exhausting!

If time permits, I'll post more about Panama City and Boquete, our two stops in Panama.

M.

I love you.

Life lately

The last few months have not been easy.  The cumulative fatigue--the lack of a good night's sleep for nearly 11 months--has caught up with me.  In addition, there's a lot of tension at the office and an increasing workload that coincides with my deceasing motivation (or you could see it as my stricter enforcement of boundaries between work and life). I am working on a project that focuses more on research and writing, a nice change of pace.  I do wish, however, that I could take on more complaints/cases, but I also know from experience that providing legal support to a group in another country would require frequent travel, particularly where dispute resolution is involved.  And right now, I'm okay staying at home for most of the time.

Motherhood has also presented challenges, but overall it has brought me so much joy.  Some weeks, I'm startled by how much M is changing into a being with a personality. A few weeks ago, she added "mama" to her vocabulary, which consisted of "hi" and "dada." She also started very clearly mimicking my tone and even some of my gestures.  

In July, we'll celebrate her first birthday. It is insane how writing/saying that chokes me up.

The sun

We took M to Los Angeles (and Portland) for a three-week holiday.  I'm still thinking of the time spent with my family in California, the sunshine, the ocean, the tamale-filled festivities.  One day, while staying at my sister's house, we walked to the neighborhood pokē restaurant.  It was a breezy 80 degree day, in late December.  I stared up at the towering palm trees and my thoughts swirled around how cold it must be in DC.

I always enjoy time with family but, with M now in our lives, those interactions take on another level of meaning for me (sorry if that sounds blow-hardy).  I'm starting to wonder if I would be fine with my daughter seeing her cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents -- in many ways, her (and my) cultural anchors - once or twice a year tops.  I'm not so sure.  Yet, I'm not exactly ready to move back to California either.

There are other things I'm thinking about, some more frivolous than others, but someone is calling for me.

And my time is up.

Documenting a walk (drive): An afternoon in B'more

A few weekends ago, we drove up to Baltimore to visit Stu, who hadn't yet met Madeleine.  We brunched at Woodberry Kitchen, a cavernous space in a renovated mill.  I was not disappointed - it lived up to the hype. It was also such a baby-friendly restaurant, which seems like a rarity these days, at least in this country.  We then enjoyed a leisurely cup of coffee at Artifact before driving back to the city.  M is a fairly happy baby, particularly in the morning, but her temperament and level of patience take a sharp decline as we edge toward early evening. We squeeze in all the roaming around, errands and coffee dates in the mornings and early afternoons.  It helps keep me sane.  

Recent acquisitions: Embracing mom pants

Earlier in the year, I committed to listing out monthly acquisitions - if only to hold myself accountable and to curb spending habits.  

I failed.  I haven't listed anything in months, even though I have been fairly active with internet purchases. I should have known that pregnancy and post-pregnancy would do a number on my spending - with my changing body shape, pre and post-partum hormones shifts and late nights/early mornings spent comforting an infant, I was bound to make a few irrational internet purchases.  I'm not going to list every single purchase here. That would be far too embarrassing.

But I will say that my purchases of late have been spurred on by my realization that my too-precious silk numbers aren't going to work, at least for now.

• I've wholeheartedly jumped on the Ace & wagon.  It's funny.  I first heard of Ace & Jig when I still lived in Cambodia and back then I could not justify the prices, not when I could make linen/cotton shift dresses in Russian Market. In retrospect and objectively, my gut instinct was probably right. But when I finally purchased a piece, I realized how beautiful the textiles were and how wearable. I was sucked into the hype. These pieces aren't cheap, however, and I don't see them becoming more affordable in light of the the growing cult following, particularly from moms. Bottomline: I need to ease up.   
• For the last year I've also been itching for a new pant silhouette.  Can you believe I've been wearing skinny jeans for over 10 years? While I still wear a black skinny jean regularly, I also welcomed two pairs of slouchy Black Crane pants into my rotation. I must say I'm loving the elastic waist and looser fit. I wear the quilt pants at least two times a week. I also own the carpenter pants in olive, but that pair doesn't get as much use.
• As for shoes, I rotate between three pairs of boots: the Rachel Comey Mars (for days I don't intend to walk very far); the Dieppa Restrepo Mer boots; and the IM Dicker boots, a "maternity" purchase from last year.  To my credit, these are not new purchases.

Thanksgiving holiday

I realize I use this space to whine about some of the realities of motherhood.  Today, I'm thinking about how tired I am, how I'm still not sleeping well, how I don't quite fit into my old clothes, and how postpartum hair loss is horrible, if not scary.

I think it throws friends when they ask me how I am doing and I launch into my grievances.  I see the look on their faces. But that is what's going on, dear friends.  Yes, I love my daughter, fiercely. Her smiles make me forget (for a while) some of the difficulties of motherhood.  And life is richer, in ways I didn't understand before.

But I'm not one to sugarcoat things and some days I surprise myself with my ability to get out of bed, get dressed and pretend to be functional, maybe even mildly coherent.  Today was not one of those days. I stayed at home in my pajamas while taking conference calls.

This post was about Thanksgiving in Colorado: There was snow and family. I didn't bring my work computer. I didn't think about human rights or the uphill battle we face. It was great.  And, speaking of M's smiles, here's one that melts my heart.

A year later

My little sister (above) flew out yesterday, after spending two weeks with us.  Tomorrow, M takes her first flight, to Colorado, where she will be surrounded by more family -- hopefully I can catch up on well-needed sleep and finally get over this nagging cough.

There's so much to be thankful for this year.  Last Thanksgiving holiday was a difficult one.  I alluded to many things, but never really wrote about everything.  In addition to my aunt's sudden death and some upheaval at work, this time last year I discovered I was pregnant, only to suffer what I believed to be an unequivocal miscarriage mere days after my discovery.  I was devastated.  I remember flying out to Wisconsin for Thanksgiving that day and how the airport seemed to swarm with babies.  Once in Wisconsin I remember confiding in Ethan's grandmother Megan, a petite woman who, with her steely eyes, sternly told me that this would pass, that women dig deep to find the strength to keep trying.

Well, a few delayed doctor appointments (and a few weeks of sickness) later, I discovered that I was, in fact, still pregnant.  

I didn't write about it then because it felt too close.  I carried it with me, even through the pregnancy, a little secret, a nagging fear.  But I've always tried to be honest in this space.

So it's crazy that a year later I will be flying with my little squishy daughter.  Motherhood is difficult, but I am so grateful for the presence of her in my life, and for the love of my incredible family and friends.

My balancing act

I took this picture of M when she wasn't yet two months old, when I was still on maternity leave and the days seemed to stretch out before me.

I went back to work in October, during a pretty full-on week.  But thanks my fabulous my in-laws, who flew into the city and hovered around my meetings so that I could nurse M every few hours, I survived that hectic time.  At more than one point in the week, I felt overwhelmed, out of sync, and ready to quit my job!  But I pushed through. One afternoon late in the week, I found myself seated at a table with two human rights defenders from Guatemala. As we discussed their case, I remembered why I fell in love with this work to begin with. 

I don't know how this work/life balance thing will ultimately pan out, but I hope I can strike a healthy medium.  Right now, my attempt at balance includes a mix of working a (very) slightly reduced schedule, leaving the office at 3:30pm most days, working remotely, and carving out time to spend lunch with M everyday.

One of the things that causes me the most anxiety now is something that I have thrived upon - namely, international travel.  I've managed to push off any international travel this year. There was the three-day trip to London that I jumped on and immediately backed off of once M was born. On the horizon is a meeting that keeps getting pushed back. Initially scheduled for Thailand, then India, the meeting will now either be held "somewhere in Africa," in Turkey, or in Thailand.  I won't be able to escape that trip, but I'm hoping that by the time I go - for a week - M will be a little older.  And then, there's the work trip to Nepal that keeps getting pushed back (indefinitely) and Peru, which will happen next October.

This is the longest period of time I've been grounded without international travel, and I crave a new stamp on my passport - but not yet, not if it means being apart from her, and not when she is so little.  A dream I have, someday, is to travel across the world with her, or at least to a few far-flung places.  I think fondly back to the French father-daughter pair I met in a ger in Mongolia.  She, a blonde bubble of energy, was on her gap year.  Father and daughter met in Mongolia for a three week tour of the Gobi Desert, after which she would travel to Nepal alone.  I remember their talks, his encouraging words to her about hiking in Nepal, of the Annapurna trail dotted with tea houses.

That's the dream, but baby steps first.  

Distractions

 

images via

I'm exhausted and a little ragged from attempting this whole work/life/baby balance thing. Frivolous distractions are welcome. Plus, aren't they healthy at this point? Rugs from Bohem.

today

So tired.

And it's the last day of August. HOW?

Strawyberry-Rhubarb Goodness

This was in late June. That's a very pregnant me, after I waddled half a block to the farmers market.  I bought rhubarb and strawberries, and I made this compote.  So good.

David Lebovitz's Strawberry-Rhubarb Compote

Ingredients

• 1 ¼ cups (310 ml) water
• 1 ¼ cups (310 ml) dry or sweet white wine
• 5 slices (15 g) fresh ginger, unpeeled
• ½ cup (100 g) sugar
• 1/3-1/2 cup (100 - 160 g) honey
• 2-pounds (1 kg) rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 3-inch batons, about 1/2 –inch wide
• 1 pound (450 g) strawberries, hulled and quartered

Instructions

In a large saucepan, heat the water, wine, ginger, sugar, and honey (use the smaller amount if you think you might want it less-sweet.)

When all the sugar is dissolved and the syrup is simmering, add the rhubarb and let the rhubarb cook in the simmering syrup until it’s just softened, which may take as little as 5 minutes, depending on the rhubarb. Remove from heat and add the strawberries. When cool, pluck out the ginger slices.

Serve warm or room temperature.

On Privilege

Early days in Cambodia, on one of the monitoring trips

No one told me the early months of motherhood would be this difficult. I simply had no clue.  But we're adjusting to sleep deprivation and slowly a routine - a new normalcy - is emerging. And with that difficulty, there's also a lot of joy, which helps.

My mornings - just when M falls back asleep and the light is out - are precious moments for me, minutes when I am (relatively) awake and I can think about things other than feedings, the daycare search, minutes that I can waste on thoughts of autumn layers and flat boots, on the world that existed before motherhood.

This morning, I thought of the string of emails I received - actually, just as I was in labor!  They were from two families of Vietnamese Montagnard refugees I worked with in Bangkok.  Fleeing from religious persecution in Vietnam, they made their way to Cambodia first, then Thailand, where they would settle (illegally, as with all refugees in Thailand).  Theirs was a story that went back 7 years, with numerous rejections of refugee status by the UN, detention in Bangkok, release, and then the precarious life of a refugee not being able to lawfully live/work in their country of refuge.  Extortion by police is not uncommon. I had helped with a re-opening request to the UN (the third one, as their files had been closed), and the day of the email, they had finally received their refugee certificates.

It was such fantastic news.  I could imagine their faces and those of the children.

When I left Bangkok, there were others whose cases were still pending.  I didn't write about their stories then because it felt so close.  I still think about the Iranian man, detained in jail for political activities, tortured, raped. He was seeking an appeal. Did he ever get it?  I think often about the Muslim Pakistani woman forced to have an abortion by her tribe because she fell in love with and married a Christian.  What became of her?  And what of the woman from Cameroon, who fled her country with her daughter who faced genital mutilation?  The Palestinians displaced from their refugee camps in Syria, who bought a visa to Thailand not knowing how long it would take to be recognized as refugees and how arduous daily life could be in Thailand for a family waiting out resettlement?

One of the things that struck me in my travels was just how privileged I was to be an American citizen.  In Cambodia, on monitoring trips where arrest was possible, I knew that my passport would provide a level of protection. Same thing when I was in Burma on one of those frequent middle-of-the-night military checkpoints, where you're scooted off the bus and required to stand in line to be interrogated.  In the international work travel that is sure to follow this fall or winter, I will be working on human rights issues in difficult contexts, again with the protection of my passport. 

And, I'm aware this privilege came at no cost to me, really. My grandfather was the one who made the journey in the 1920s. He was alone, 16 years old. He toiled as a migrant worker until his retirement. Once a US citizen, he went back to the Philippines, where I was ultimately born.  For me, it was never a question of "if" but "when" I would move to the US to claim my citizenship.

Russian chocolates

The day before I went into labor, Ethan and I celebrated our one year anniversary.  In lieu of how we imagined we would celebrate (a trip to Kyrgyzstan, camping in a yurt), we instead spent the day doing more low-key activities--namely, buying houseplants, eating at our favorite Sichuanese restaurant in the Maryland 'burbs, and visiting a few of the adjacent "ethnic" grocery stores, one of which was a Russian/post-Soviet Imperium grocery store.  There, we came across these chocolates, which I encountered in many grocery stores in Russia. I remember bringing these home as souvenirs for friends in Portland.

That trip feels like a lifetime ago.  I think often of that trip.  I guess it could have been any trip. Replace the Tran-Siberian with a trip to Italy or Chile - whatever.  That trip marked an inflection point in my life; so much changed after that time.

One of the surprising things I've found about motherhood is that it has strengthened my resolve to live/work abroad again.  Moving abroad again has always been our plan, but there's another dimension to it now. When I found out I was pregnant, my mind clung to an image of me, Ethan and our child in Cambodia or another country. Perhaps it's because that's where this story began (where Ethan and I met and fell in love).  Perhaps it's because I was exposed to many expat mothers raising their families in Cambodia, Thailand, elsewhere.  And/or, perhaps I'm clinging to a way of life that may no longer fit.  I'm not sure; it's probably a mix of all three.

With M's arrival, Ethan and I talk a lot about living abroad again.  It pains our families to hear that we plan to move abroad with M in a few years. While life certainly has its twists and turns, I hope that when the right opportunity presents itself, we will have the courage to go through with the move.

But that won't happen for a few years, I think.  And right now, there's a lot to relish about life in DC.