FIVE

Happy Birthday, sweet Songbird.

When we moved to Athens you were 10 weeks old.  It is amazing that the first 10 weeks of Raindrop's life seemed to whiz by - just a quick breath and some bounces (OK lots of late night bouncing), and before I knew it she was 6 months old.  In contrast, your infancy seemed to linger.  There was a freshness to the whole baby thing, and each day simply took longer to live.  Every moment was new, every virgin sound worth noticing and relishing.  Not that subsequent children aren't fully loved or adored, but time is cut in half and the noticing of individual moments spreads out a bit.

I say all that to help explain my mental timeline.  It goes like this: your first year of life was spent in Chattanooga (even though it was really only 10 weeks) and the next 5 were spent here, in Athens, GA.  In fact, your Chattanooga life is nothing but photographs, stories, and visits to you at this point.  Though in my mind it was rich and deep and full of becoming a mom and of you becoming a daughter.

But now you are 5, and we have lived in Athens for 5 years - the longest time we've lived in one place since our married life.  I find it interesting that you were 10 weeks old when we moved here, and you will be 5 years and 10 weeks when we move to Maine and begin again up North.  So when I think of all that has changed in our lives - how we have grown in so many ways since coming to Athens, I see it all in light of your beautiful life.

For example, your first year of Athens life was spent in the basement apartment - or more accurately in the field across the street and on the banks of the river.  I knew almost no one, Papa was totally absorbed (and a bit overwhelmed) by his transition into graduate student life, and you screamed any time I put you down, or in a car seat, or in a stroller, etc., etc.  So we took walks - you in my arms, or the bjorn, or the ergo, or the bright blue sling, and we got to know the landscape around us. There was a lot of time for reflecting, writing letters, journaling, experimenting with food, etc. as you took two very long naps a day and slept predictably from 7:00 pm until 7:00 am every night.

At the end of that first year, we decided to return to Chattanooga for the Summer and live once again at Broughton Street with GG.  It was a rich time of filling up with friendship, with truth, with church fellowship, and with wise words spoken to us by some respected mentors.  I was coming off the end of a stagnant, almost barren place relationally, and Papa was coming off of a year in which he had become addicted to work (and couldn't see a way out). We knew things had to change in our life, that we weren't loving each other well, but it took 9 long weeks of prayer and deliberation before we came to some concrete solutions.  And honestly, by the end of the Summer I was so in love with you, and Papa and I had reached such a sweet place of healing and grace towards one another, and GG had blessed us with her house and been blessed by your daily presence, we were actually excited to return to Athens.

Our second year of Athens life was fresh and full of wonder.  A visit earlier in the Summer to Family and Graduate Housing led us to a one year-old chinese girl named Sophia who was toddling around in the middle of a large grassy field with her Chinese grandparents.  You toddled around with her, exploring the wide open spaces, and Papa and I felt, as much as it's possible, the Spirit inviting us to set up camp amidst the cinder-blocked buildings.  So that August we moved into Apartment D 113, and  quickly began to see the sun shine on our lives in very new and tangible ways.

I think faithfully walking through very dry seasons make the following seasons seem that much more colorful and vibrant.  That's how this next year was for us.  We had established firm boundaries between work and family and re-instituted the daily routine of taking walks and adventures together, we joined a church (after a long year of visiting around), and we pursued our particular calling to the international community.  I knew for me, with a one year-old who liked wide-open spaces in tow, that if I were to befriend international women and mothers, proximity would be key.  It would take daily bumping into them - outside my door, at the playground, in the laundry room, etc.  And so after moving into building D I began to be more free to be both mother and "missionary," and more free to be connected to the University and Papa's life as a student.  Wouldn't you know, we were in our new home less than a month when we found out that you would be a big sister.

And so our second year was marked by long walks - but this time the walks had us constantly bumping  into neighbors, students, friends from church, friends from our past, new friends with young children.  You became more and more comfortable with the world, which made it easier to take trips on the bus or in the stroller, and we began to become more intimately acquainted with downtown Athens, the food and art scene, and the cross-country trails and lake.  You began to blossom and flourish as you made friends with neighbors, conquered the playground, and flirted with language.  Before we all knew it, your little Brother was flying into life with our family, Papa was finishing his second year of Grad School, and we were approaching a peaceful Summer of research travel as a family.

Our third year here began as peacefully as the second ended, though clouds were thickening around us. As so often is the case, we were losing some of our peaceful flow and entering into another time of ebb.  You were so full of life, love, energy, and exuberance that your love for Bro kicked my Mother Bear instincts into high gear.  Every innocent act of affection on your part turned into a misjudgment of spatial reasoning, to the extent that I worried (more than I should have) that harm may accidentally come to your Brother.  On top of this, Brother struggled with constant ear infections, which meant I struggled with constant lack of sleep.  Pretty soon Papa and I decided to move into the living room, so every night  we set up camp on our fancy air mattress, and every morning we neatly put it away again.  The disruption of sleep and living space, and the lack of order were constant challenges to me.  But this time I was not facing the challenges alone, but had a network of friends to encourage me through the hard times (and of course family).

Speaking of friends, it was this third year that brought a deepening of relationships.  Struggles invite a certain vulnerability that can strengthen relationships in ways I would not have foreseen.  I remember the Summer before praying with Aunt Ellen in her living room that God would strengthen friendships I already had, and surprise me with new ones.  He heard my cries and gave me even more than I requested, and I am so thankful for the sweet sisters I gained through Bible Study that year, and for the deepening of some existing friendships as well.  By the end of our third year here, Brother had undergone surgery for his ears and was finally sleeping through the night (after a long, long year of waking up many times a night), you were 3 and less of a toddler and more of a preschooler, and Papa was over half-way done with Grad School.

Our third Summer here was another time of great prayer and deliberation.  We had outgrown our space and were growing weary of sleeping on the floor, and after looking around Athens for an affordable three bedroom house came to the conclusion that we were indeed poor Graduate students and could not possibly afford a 3 bedroom house in biking distance to campus.  We had the opportunity to tour the largest of the Family and Graduate Housing complexes and were surprised by how much more spacious they were than our present apartment.  They were only 2 bedrooms, but they had two bathrooms and patios opening to a gated playground.  We knew this was the next best thing, so we jumped at an opening and moved in in early July.  What a gracious gift it was for our family.

Thus we ushered in our fourth year of Athens living in Brandon Oaks.  You, Bro and I had such wonderful mornings and evenings building tall towers with your wooden blocks on the patio, or digging for hidden treasures in the sand.  We took long walks to Earth Fare, Lake Herrick, the cross country fields, and at times all the way to Papa's office.  If it was a rainy day we'd jump on the bus and go for a loop around campus, or downtown, or wherever struck our fancy.  We got a Family Housing garden plot and spent our evenings planting, weeding, and playing at the nearby playground.  And we loved bumping into neighbors (for the most part) and bumping into international gardeners.

Our fourth year was the beginning of a more formal time in your life.  You were old enough to need structure in your days, and inquisitive enough to want some sort of daily "schooling."  So I began to research and read about homeschooling, early learning, and all that jazz.  That's been an especially fun journey for me as education is in my background, and it's something I am excited to be constantly learning more about.  It was around this time that Elisha and I started talking about a home school co-op, then I ran into Anna at the international welcome day and she knew 3 other moms interested in a co-op, then we bumped into Suki and had conversations with Nan and pretty soon we had a super fun preschool co-op going on.

At the beginning of the year you were still struggling with some concrete fears - work trucks of any sort (especially fire trucks), lawn mowers, vacuums, and poop.  That's right - it was a bit of an issue for you sweet girl.  But we're oh so thankful to be past that stage, and co-op and your weekly gymnastic class both played a big part in helping you overcome a lot of your fears.  It was such a good time of letting you go bit by bit - for three hours one day a week, and later for two days a week.  Such good friendships were established for you through the co-op, and Bro and I enjoyed a little shopping / errand date on our own every once in a while.

Our fourth year was also the beginning of saying goodbye.  The Carters (whom we shared a wonderful babysitting co-op with) had already left the Summer before, and then the Davis' left for Atlanta, shortly followed by the Schills.  We knew our time was limited in Athens, so there was a bit of foreshadowing in their departures, and more goodbyes on the horizon.  Thinking about it again, hellos and goodbyes are the nature of Grad school.  Always new neighbors moving in and old neighbors moving out.  We said goodbye to friends from India, China, Mauritius, Africa, Uruguay, Thailand, and beyond.

This finally brings us to our fifth year here.  Little Raindrop joined our family late in the Summer, and despite a brief and gruelling interruption to "normalcy" during her fussy days, much was the same - the garden was in full bloom, the paths to Five Points, Lake Herrick, and the trails were well-trodden, you and Bro were truly becoming friends and playing together morning and evening.  Papa was applying for jobs, finishing his dissertation, and looking forward to interviewing for positions.  We were all dreaming about what was around the corner and what the next chapter would hold for our family.  Unlike when Brother was born, you were old enough to have gained a bit more spacial sensibilities, and you were able to channel all your genuine love and excitement into being truly helpful.  Those first few months of the Fall and into the Winter were such a sweet and steady time.  It was a time of filling up in preparation for the emotional roller coaster of being on the "job market."

And that's how I'd describe the Spring - an emotional roller coaster.  But in the midst of all the applications and interviews and not knowing where we'd be moving, there were many givens.  We had another co-op which met every week with dear friends, we had Bible Study and MMO, play dates with Ian and Elanor, the amazing church plant we've been a part of, and we've been trying to take advantage of being close to our families as much as possible.

Now here I am, in the middle of May, just having celebrated Bro's third birthday and his second ear surgery, my 32nd birthday, Raindrop's 9th month, and your fifth birthday, looking at the boxes around me, looking to Brunswick, Maine and the grey fully heated box we'll be moving into, and pausing.  Pausing to remember where we've been and where we're going, and especially to see the pattern of God's faithfulness weaving throughout it all.  Though this is way too long to post on a blog, it doesn't come close to the whole - just bits and pieces of the story of our past five years as seen through the landscape and dwelling places therein.  In a month Papa will defend his great story about peaches, and he will be a Dr., and we will bow in Thanksgiving, and throw ourselves at the mercy of the Father for this next step in the journey.  Because at this point we know there will be many flowing blessings, and we know there will be passages of drought.  And this time we are saying goodbye to everyone, and there will be silent moments,  and probably many empty spaces.  But we are trusting for Grace to keep in step with the Spirit....

I am so thankful for your garden party last Friday, and that all of your friends could be there to celebrate.  I'm not sure how much you will remember looking back on this time in Athens, but I hope you will remember bits and pieces of everyone sitting around the table with you, and I truly hope that our journey will continue alongside many of our sweet friends, if but from a distance.

And so Athens, GA, we bid you adieu.  You will not be forgotten.  (OK, sorry about the dramatic ending, I know we don't leave for 7 more weeks...) :)