Winter, Here We Come

I’m about to make an unexpected trip to the United States - and I’ve just realized it’s January over there. (Listen, it’s surprisingly difficult to keep up with the month when the weather stays the same year-round. Don’t judge.)

I have experienced exactly one winter in the last eight years and it was only for a few weeks. We went to the States for Charlotte’s first Christmas. I remember nothing except feeling exhausted and nauseous the entire time, which I blamed on cold weather. Then I learned I had been pregnant for an embarrassingly long time, without a clue. And that is my memory of the last time I was cold. 

And this is what happened to Charlotte's beautiful face. Windburn and chapping. It wasn't pretty.

Every June when we get back to the States, I look around at everyone and think, "Wow, you've all made it through another winter. You've worn so many layers of clothing. How did you do it?!"

And so, I’m trying to mentally prepare for the cold. It’s like when there are too many air conditioners on, right? Or maybe it’s more like that time a few weeks ago when I wore long sleeves because it had just rained and there was a light breeze?

I can’t stress how much I hate the cold. When I was little I was literally allergic to being cold. I would break out in hives and have to take warm oatmeal baths. I slept under an electric blanket in the summer. Yesterday Charlotte said she was “SO COLD” and wanted to take a warm bath. It was one of the hottest days of the year…in the tropical Congo. She is not coming with me on this trip.

This time it's just me and Annaïs and she's only experienced winter in utero. Next Post: Baby’s First sub 85° Weather.

Tweet

Love the Place You Live - Kinshasa

(This is a post written for the Design Mom series, "Love the Place You Live."  Read more here. )

Our kids are growing up in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo.

What does it mean to grow up in Kinshasa?

Most people will picture scenes like these, from cameras documenting the developing world:

And these are accurate.  This is what Elias, Charlotte, LouLou, and Ani see everyday.  Life does look like this in Kinshasa.

But, it also looks like this:

photo by Sarah Sensamaust

We live on 40 acres of tropical rainforest.  A few steps from both of our houses is a lush botanical garden.  Full of native ferns, spiraling ginger, flowers, and trees. We are surrounded by people who help us raise our children, and teach us different ways of eating, speaking, and living every day. 

And while we spend loads of time enjoying the really gorgeous things and people that exists in Kinshasa,  the "stark" reality of Kinshasa is also normal to our children.  They wave at military guys with huge guns strapped to their backs.  They don't hesitate to play with kids who would perfectly illustrate a news story on childhood poverty in Africa.  They don't care if their water comes from the tap or from a filtration bucket.

While there is incredible, breathtaking beauty in our place, there is also incredible, breathtaking dirt, hunger, and sadness.  We love this place because we all must see both everyday.  And both become essential to our daily life.  What a life.  What a place.

(all photos by Jill Humphrey unless otherwise linked or noted.)

Tweet