Friday List!

Sarah's List:

Most frequently asked question of the summer: "How does your family stay so white?" It's a good question. I have no answer. Equatorial sun is no match for our Irish roots. Second most asked question: "How many times have you had malaria?" Answer: Zero. Again, boring answer. This is usually when folks ask if we actually live in Congo.

Here's a Q and A with every question you could possibly have about mosquitoes. Why don't we just kill all the mosquitoes?

USDA/AP from here.

Looking for a good summer book? Have you seen the Book Seer? You just put in the last book you've finished (and presumably enjoyed) and this smart-looking guy will tell you what to read next.

From the BookSeer.com

And if you're approaching 30, or already got there. Here's a list you're supposed to check off. 30 Books I'm Glad I Read Before 30. Do you agree?

And then you can head over to Open Library for over a million free e-books.

From openlibrary.org.

Would you drink your own sweat? Or maybe someone else's. Turning sweat into water. Fascinating.

Leave it to UNICEF and the Swedes to make a sweat machine.

I swear. Your sister makes you watch The Bachelorette once and you think it's the dumbest thing you've ever seen. Then you "accidentally" watch it the next week and you're like, "OMG, who's gonna get a rose?!" Here's a great article on the ability to fall in love with someone who mistakes verbs for adjectives. "I'm like, God, You Know, Is He, Am I Not, Is That, He's Not Gonna Pick Me."

A truly grammatical moment. 

This week Charlotte had her tonsils and adenoids out. It wasn't so bad until the nurse who wheeled her away said, "Now's when the parents are allowed to cry." Turns out getting body parts removed is actually quite painful, especially when you're 3-years-old. The Sound of Music makes it a little better.

Jill's List:

What did you think about Obama's speech today about Trayvon Martin and race in America?

Image from the NYTimes.

I was totally influenced by the adorableness of the photo in the first American Mothers Around the World post and I bought Elias a Kanken for 2nd grade. (Plus, I found a great deal on a very strange color combination.)

Photo by Rebecca Zeller who is one of the moms (including us!) featured on Cup of Jo's new series.

Super interesting article about nonviolence in violent schools.

1998 image of North Philly neighborhood from The Atlantic.

Have you been watching Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee?  Four people (including Joanna) mentioned it in the past week and my husband is one of those people who insists on continuing to quote Seinfeld.  So I watched this episode...but got distracted about two-thirds of the way through the 15 minute segment.  Should I try again?

Image of Barry Marder and Jerry Seinfeld from here.

Have you ever rewarded yourself for doing something hard with a really nice, splurgy, present? My friend bought herself a pair of slamming shoes as a present to herself for birthing her third baby.  I'm buying this and this for finally taking my GREs after avoiding them for the past 10 years.  Indulgent? For sure.

Buy this at Tata Harper or Sephora.

I've been thinking a lot about what I would think if I read Mama Congo.  Does that make any sense?  Let me clarify.  What if I didn't know what it was like to live in another country and I read the things I write. Or, what if I had been born in Congo.  What would I think?  How do my thoughts come across?  I think I'm imagining/bracing for some not-so-supportive comments we may very well get on our Cup of Jo guest post in a couple of weeks...  I re-read this amazing and biting essay to check myself.  It's worth a think.

Also be sure to include a warm and motherly woman who has a rolling laugh and who is concerned for your well-being. Just call her Mama. Her children are all delinquent. These characters should buzz around your main hero, making him look good. Your hero can teach them, bathe them, feed them; he carries lots of babies and has seen Death. Your hero is you (if reportage), or a beautiful, tragic international celebrity/aristocrat who now cares for animals (if fiction).

And, speaking of Mama Vida, (sort of) she's on Facebook now!  We've been chatting with her - which is nice because this morning, Lou demanded to tell her about how a bird smacked into the window while we were eating breakfast.

And, has anyone used Milk + Moleskine to make an online photo book?  We just did!  Elias illustrated some of Boss' (the random name he created for his paternal grandfather we made for his paternal grandfather - there's a story, of course) favorite sayings and we made it into a book for G-Ma's birthday.  It turned out great and features that awesome little rubber band that is one of the best parts about Moleskine notebooks.  A sample of the illustrations we used to make the book:

What the...?  Find out here.

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Friday List!

Jill's List:

I would so rather be blogging away vs. doing what I've been doing with my computer time lately - studying for the GREs...  Ugh.  What a good way to ruin a summer vacation.  Today, as my family lazes by the pool and I spend more hours humiliating myself with Magoosh quantitative practice questions, I appreciate this essay.  For example:

The GREs (Graduate Record Examinations) are harder than the SATs, and about as amusing as getting mugged at an ATM. If you are good at taking standardized tests, you will probably not have a problem with the GREs. If you are bad at taking standardized tests, the GREs will be considerably more difficult. They will make you frustrated and anxious and dry-mouthed and dizzy and unreasonably furious at people who use words like "flocculent" in casual conversation.

Image from here.

A great article on Kinshasa's sapeurs, answering the question, "How do they afford those designer duds?"

Image from The Africa Report.

Duh.  That's all I have to say about this fantastic op-ed by Nicholas Kristoff.

"Can you name a miracle food that is universally available, free and can save children’s lives and maybe even make them smarter?"  Image from The NYTimes.

So much news the past couple of weeks on babies, birth, and how to do better.  Like this article on delayed cord clamping - front page of the NY Times!  And this shocking synopsis of how the steep cost of having a baby in America doesn't necessarily buy a safe birth.  Al Jazeera asks why it's still so dangerous to have a baby in Africa.  And then, there's Cedars-Sinai's "Rock and Roll" birth program.  Yep.  Read more here. (Also, I just noticed that Alice has linked to all of these.  If you are interested in maternal child health news and aren't already following her on Facebook/Twitter, you should...)

Image from "Study Finds Benefits in Delaying Severing of the Umbilical Cord", NYTimes.

Speaking of photographers...I was re-entranced by Sebastião Salgado this week.  He's been a favorite for years (thank you Aperture - a subscription my husband has stubbornly kept up for me for the past 12 years - even when we totally couldn't afford it), and his new project, "Genesis," is stunning.

Image from Paris Photo.

Hilarious and brilliant.

Image from Trendhunter.

And. Nervous about the return flight to Congo as I think after a 3 day delay getting to Phoenix this week, airports have officially lost their glamour for my little frequent flyers (or maybe that's just transference).

One benefit of all the waiting?  I discovered Humans of New York.  Like this genius quote:

“I know a thousand wise things. And I’m not going to tell you one.”  
Image and words from Humans of New York.

Johan and I were...wait for it...20 when we got married.  Super interesting write up about why it's kind of great to grow up with your spouse. (And, there's a rebuttal.)

From our super fancy "engagement pictures" series, taken on the cheap by our
then-amateur-now-uber-fancy photographer friend, Conrad.  Look how fresh faced we were!

We visited the Congo in Phoenix today.  The kids played the drums to ward off homesickness. (Seriously, the Musical Instrument Museum is world class.)

Pictures from America this weekend.

And.  Follow us on Blog Lovin'!


Sarah's List:

Did you catch the 500th episode of This American Life this week? My love for Ira Glass really cannot be measured. How This American Life Made It to 500 Episodes and What Makes a Perfect Episode.

Image by Adrianne Mathiowetz from here.

Beautiful postpartum bodies. (Link lifted from Motley Mama. Check out lots of other great links over there too.)

By Jade Beall, from here.

Man these people really have it together. The Secret to Finland's Success With Schools, Moms, Kids - And Everything. Sounds good to me!

A child in Finland being happy as usual. (Kasper/Pempel Reuters) from here.

Just got back from a week at the beach where we happened upon these great scooters. Charlotte couldn't really get the hang of a Razor or other kid friendly scooters. But these are so light and smooth and turn incredibly easy. And we got a great discount off the floor models so we got one for each kid.

Kickboards!

And Jill and I still can't believe this happened. But here we are outside Cafe Cluny with Joanna Goddard herself and the amazing Lina Perl. The American Mothers Around the World series starts today!! Keep checking Cup of Jo every Monday for the Mama Congo post.

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Shaking the Invisible Air Baby

Tomorrow is Annaïs' 2nd birthday. Or as we call it, "The First Anniversary of Regaining our Sanity." You see, she was one of those babies. Cried all night. Never happy. Always bounce-nursing. It was bad. And I had almost forgotten until I read this amazing article, Before I Forget: What Nobody Remembers About New Motherhood.

Our firstborn Charlotte was the perfect baby. Of course, we attributed her behavior to our expert parenting. We rolled our eyes at all those parents whose kids were up all night and never happy. Those fools obviously had no idea what they were doing.

We took perfect Charlotte back to Congo when she was 3-weeks-old. Soon after, our half saint, half sage neighbor with grown children of her own, sat me down and said if I ever felt overwhelmed and "well, you know..." I could bring Charlotte over to her house any time of day no questions asked. I thought she was crazy. I could never be overwhelmed by a baby. So needless to say, I never took her up on her baby amnesty offer.

(Coincidentally, this neighbor is also the source of my favorite parenting tip ever: If you're worried you might roll over on your sleeping baby in your bed, just put an upside down laundry basket over them. Genius. )

Then precious Annaïs came along. And when I say "precious" I mean horrendous. That child was just never happy. But I wouldn't put her in the colicky category. She didn't scream and cry. She was just perpetually pissed off and fussy.

Perfect baby v. Crazy baby

In fact, I fantasized about having a colicky baby. Then I could go to work and tell co-workers, "Yep, up all night with that colicky baby again." And then they would say, "Oh no! Colic is the worst. I'm so sorry. It will end." There's no real way to garner sympathy by saying your baby is just undiagnosably always pissed off.

Sleep deprivation is not kind to marriages. I distinctly remember telling Adam he was lucky our house was surrounded by a 10-foot wall topped with razor wire or I would have been outta there. In the mornings we argued over who got less sleep. Adam claimed his sleep didn't count because it was "guilty sleep."

As I bounced the nights away and she fussed I wondered if the guys at Gitmo knew about this very effective form of torture. I could feel myself going crazy. My sweet amnesty neighbor was gone and in her place useless non-parent neighbors. I imagined taking Ani over there and saying, "You see, the people who lived here before you had this amnesty deal with me if I was ever feeling 'you know'...so here's my baby."

It's the type of crazy only people who have been there can understand. You never stop loving your baby, you just start hating your life. Sometimes when it got particularly bad I would kiss my sweet crying baby on her forehead, put her down (which she hated more than anything) and shake an invisible air baby until I felt like I could safely pick my real baby up again. This is the fine line between moms who by some miracle have presence of mind to put their baby down, and moms who spend the rest of their lives in prison. It's a very fine, but important line. And a technique that should be taught in parenting classes if no one would judge.

This was when I finally understood what my neighbor had meant when she said if I was ever feeling "you know." She meant if I was ever feeling like shaking an invisible air baby.

So on awful Ani's (I mean the baby we loved more than anything, including sleep) 1st birthday we decided the jig was up. She was no longer a baby and could scream her head off, but she would need to learn how to deal.

Happy 1st Birthday Ani. Good luck with the night you're about to have.

I swear it was only one night (Adam says two), but that child cried and cried and we counted the seconds between the screams until she was done. And then she sighed and laid down. And I swear in that sigh she said, "Oh, I thought you wanted me to be up all night to keep you company. No? Okay, I'll go to sleep."

And just like that it was over. Exactly one year of no sleep, midnight divorce papers and invisible air babies were over.

Happy Birthday sweet Annaïs. The best/worst baby we've ever had. 

Photo credit: Jill.

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Friday List!

Sarah's List:

Feeling a little offended, Obama Family, that you waited until we left to take your Africa trip. Here's a good photographic round-up of their tour. Below is my favorite shot that gives some perspective of the size of that fascinating/controversial/tallest statue in Africa. Read more about it here.

Image from TIME Swampand.

And even more importantly, a Michelle Obama outfit round-up.

In orange in South Africa.

Elsewhere on the continent, The Origins of War in the DRC.

By Armin Rosen, from here.

Truth and Lies, in clever posters.

By Justin Barber. So true...and false from here.

It's been months, but we're still trying to get over this place. Are you in Brussels this summer? Don't miss the best pizza of your life at Mamma Roma.

From thePetitFour.com.

Apparently Parisians are having a hard time dealing with us. Us tourists, that is. So they've come up with a guide, Do you speak Touriste? in which they're instructed that Americans like to eat dinner early and be reassured on prices. That sounds about right.

From doyouspeaktouriste.fr.

In Harrisonburg this summer? A great baby store and a great friend are combining forces in the art opening of Pups. We're so there.

It's hard to believe I bummed around Tahrir every day during my grad school years. Look at it now! Salam, Egypt.

Jill's List:

I almost forgot it was the 4th of July until someone complimented me on my children's patriotic outfits.  Which were totally intentional.  We're hanging out on Ocracoke Island in North Carolina this week, so we have the choice to celebrate with a "lighthouse tour with locals Chuck and Sammy" followed by "famous fishcake sandwiches" and "traditional square dance."  (The children's scalps will be coated in glitter until they are teenagers thanks to those hats.)

My stylish-with-a-sassy-sense-of-humor friend sent me a link to this similarly stylish-with-a-sassy-sense-of-humor Pinter-blog called "My Imaginary Well-Dressed Toddler Daughter."  Example:

One time Quinoa thought she had accidentally squashed a bug, but what she had really squashed was all the predictable style rules society has tried to place on her.

Visiting Chapel Hill next week.  Every time I say "Chapel Hill" - some stranger's ears perk up and they run over to voluntarily wax eloquent on how incredible this place is.  My expectations are high.

Image from here.

Loving this link from Joanna - especially since Congo is the world center for blood diamonds.  Check out these stunning rings...  I never had (or really wanted) a diamond ring, but this site has me drooling.

Image from Bario Neal Tumblr.

Elias is at that weird time as a new reader where he can read chapter-ish books, but they are just a little too hard to be totally enjoyable independently.  So - I bought a couple of kid graphic novels.  Like this one.  What summer reading strategies work for you and your kids?

Image from Tiny Bop, Inc.  Where I get the best App, Book, Website, and Music ideas.

For Loulou, I've been geeking out in joy over those bins of books at Goodwill.  Our luggage is going to be ridiculous going back to Congo.  But, a family must have priorities.  Currently, I'm hoping to find this book.  Hey, the 80's are hardly (never) ever celebrated as a prime time for graphic design, but this 1983 picture book calls that idea into question.

Image from the book, "Gorilla" - discovered at the always brilliant blog Vintage Books My Kid Loves.

Following Egypt news closely.  Unbelievable and confusing.  Is it time for celebration or fear?  Both?

Image from BBC.com

And.  In case you haven't already read this article, read it now.  Birth in America = a pretty penny.

We think a lot about souvenirs.  It's not easy when the exotic place you live has little to offer in the way of a traditional tourist industry.  So, you have to get creative.  (Hmmm...I'm feeling a future post coming on.)  Check out these amazing ideas from the French grocery store.  Mais oui!

Image from Design Mom.

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We're on Every Mother Counts!

Go check out the Every Mother Counts homepage today!

Why?

1.) EMC is an organization working to make pregnancy and childbirth safer around the globe.

Do you need another reason?

Well, okay.

2.) Mama Congo is making an appearance today in order to tell the story of Mupwa & N'Landu's twins. Remember that?

Figuring out how I wanted talk about "motherhood in Kinshasa" in 800 words was a struggle to say the least.  So, I decided to start with a father.  Namely, Mupwa, who generously gave me permission to tell his family's story and share their photos all over the internet...for the third time.

So, head on over.

While you're there, take some time and look around at their website.  The quality of information on the issue of safe motherhood is amazing - including the film trailer for "No Woman, No Cry" directed by EMC's founder, Christy Turlington Burns.

(Many thanks to Alice & Jessica.)

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How To Have Your Baby Abroad...and still get the tax break.

Yesterday our foreign-born baby completed the last step in becoming an official American. Or really, in becoming our official American tax break. Charlotte finally got her Social Security number. And it only took 3 1/2 years.

Happy Retirement, dear Charlotte.

Someone really should write a manual on how to navigate the logistics of having a baby abroad, and then transporting said baby across foreign borders in less than 3 weeks.

The moment I went into labor in South Africa, Adam started the paperwork. In order to take our newborn back to Congo we needed a South African birth certificate, American Consular Report of Birth Abroad, passport, plane ticket and visa. In that order. The one thing you're not given and do not need is a Social Security number. So we skipped it.

The day after Charlotte was born, Adam headed to a Cape Town administrative office, which he still refers to as the "DMV on steroids." There he smooth talked some poor lady into giving him a hand-written South African birth certificate instead of waiting weeks for a proper one.  Meanwhile back at the hospital, I was having an equally bizarre experience and getting my laser boob treatments. Remember that one? 

The next day instead of taking our newborn home, we took her straight to the American embassy where I kid you not, they had a velvet rope around a red-carpeted section just for Americans. They obviously knew we were coming.

The diplomats here were the first folks to gush over our baby and we swore with our right hands that we were her parents. And then spent the next hour writing down every country we'd ever visited, listing all entry and exit dates, and trying to prove we're good American citizens. A new mother's dream.

Hospital to Embassy. Otherwise known as shakily driving your first-born in a foreign country on the "wrong" side of the road.

A little while later we were given her Consular Report of Birth Abroad with which we could apply for her passport.  Now. Talk to anyone who's ever tried to take a passport photo of a baby that is essentially still a fetus, and they'll tell you it's nearly impossible. And so we begged the kind man at the camera store to break federal law and Photoshop our newborn's passport pic until it met all the regulations. (Eyes looking directly at the camera, head unsupported, solid white background, no shadows, etc.)

He still told us it might not pass the passport photo test because "American officials are the worst."

There are about 50 more attempts where these came from.

Fortunately when applying for a passport outside the US, the State Department gets it back to you toute de suite. They probably assume you're a study abroad student, lost your passport at a bar, and it's an extreme emergency. Never mind you're only 3 days old.

So exactly one week after Charlotte was born, we had a quickie passport from the United States. (We would find out 17 months later, this is not the case when applying for a newborn's passport after they're born within the United States. Thanks Annaïs.)

Interesting fact for cutting red tape: Did you know you don't need a Social Security number to get a passport? Just enter all zeros, 000-00-0000. 

Even though we technically had 18 years to apply for Charlotte's SSN, we decided it was time for her to pull her own American weight and give us the tax break. So last week we spent the better part of the morning at the Social Security Administration chatting with a kind agent on whom I forced a Mama Congo business card.  

(Hello and thank you if you're reading, to the nice worker who pretended to be interested in this blog.)

Ready to give her passport to the Social Security man in the window.

Voila. Only 3 1/2 years later we have an official American baby. And the tax break to prove it.

Did you have your baby abroad? Is this red tape adventure similar to your experience? 

Update: After going through all this, we learned as Americans abroad, we don't actually get a tax benefit for our children. C'est la expat vie.

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