Tag: kids

  • In Another Land

    We walked across the sand and the sea and
    The sky and the castles were blue.
    I stood and held your hand.
    And the spray flew high and the feathers floated by
    I stood and held your hand.
    And nobody else’s hand will ever do
    Nobody else will do

    Then I awoke
    Was this some kind of joke?
    Much to my surprise
    When I opened my eyes.

    We heard the trumpets blow and the sky
    Turned red when I accidently said
    That I didn’t know how I came to be here
    Not fast asleep in bed.
    I stood and held your hand.
    And nobody else’s hand will ever do
    Nobody else’s hand

    “In Another Land” by Bill Wyman, sung by The Rolling Stones 

    We are enjoying some much needed family time. It is hard to believe that we are here, and our short time is going sooooo quickly.  We are eating it up (I mean that literally) and Burundi already seems so very far away. Another world. For now, we are enjoying this one. It’s a world full of brothers and sisters and cousins and grandparents and cold and firsts. Our kids are getting some great “firsts” under their belts.

    First time seeing snow.

    First time wearing winter jackets.

    First time ice skating (that didn’t go so well).

    First time sledding.

    First snow ball fight.

    First time seeing their breath outside.

    First time having Christmas with their grandparents and cousins.

    Our poor kids experience so many new things every day that they fall into bed exhausted and wake up late (we are loving it!).

  • You moved your family where?

    We have a great big hope. But this week it seems like a great big stinky bog is attempting to snatch away our hope and our joy along with it.

    Burundi can swoop in and make you question things.

    Things like your sanity at bringing your family… To where?
    Or, will our vision for holistic change take root amongst these coffee farmers?

    Or on a more base level will the combination of: wild boys, construction at our new home, people EVERYWHERE, tripping-surging electricity, internet that promised the world and gave us dile-up, non stop cupping by me, cameras, one car (ie one camera girl stuck in constructionvill), and no French drive us over the edge?

    My optimism has threatened to give way to “frustration,” or other words could be used. A friend and local videographer said “so the honeymoon is over.” I don’t think we took that package.

    Kristy calls this rose-colored optimism (especially with time) “unrealistic.” I like to think “why not?” “Why couldn’t we do that?” I love possibility. We are living on potential and faith doing exactly what we asked for.

    That’s how I ended up in coffee. That’s why I see so much hope in individuals.

    Plus, I’m here to hunt for the best coffee in the country, in all of Africa! And to authenticly and naturally make a holistic difference in people’s lives. How? I really don’t know to be honest. Its a process. Its more being willing to follow God, and less “out of my way I’m a big deal.” What I do know is the last lot of Bwayi I cupped yesterday was near tear producing sweetness. High grown, farmer loved, hand picked, 100% arabica goodness.

    So are we in a bog? No, says Mr. Optimism, we’re just finding our way in the worlds second poorest country. Still, I give myself the permission to ask “I moved my family where?”

    Welcome to Burundi Carlson family.

    Coffee guy

  • The Teeny Tiny Human Dilemma

    undefinedundefined Moving has forced me to deal with my life and my future with head on brutal honesty. In this “moving space” I have to answer for everything I own. It all needs to be justified and categorized and color coded (ok, not really… but if my friend Trish were here, she’d have different colored post-its all over the place).

    Sell it or give it away.
    Store it.
    Move it to Burundi.

    Sometimes this categorizing feels freeing, like a chance at a new pared down way of life. At other times it makes me mad. Mad that I have to categorize at all. Mad that I can’t just own something because it’s beautiful. I am tired of justifying the endless uses of a potato masher to myself before packing it in the “going to Burundi” box. I don’t get a moving truck, just the back of a vehicle and a couple of suitcases. There is simply no room for things that can’t prove their purpose to me. Which means you can usually find me following Ben around the house like a puppy with before mentioned potato masher in hand, waving it while yelling, “Do they have potatoes there?” “What about pasta, did you see any pasta?”

    My boys, like all tiny humans, grow like absolute weeds and today I confronted the growing pile of itsy bitsy baby clothes that no longer fit my rolly poly 16 month old. They have been sitting there, staring at me, for months. Do I place them in storage in the hopes of having another teeny tiny human someday? Or, do I part with them here and now. Buying new clothes for a perfectly similar baby boy (just assuming, considering my track record) seems like a waste with all these cute baby clothes staring up at me. So does storing them if there’s never going to be another little man. Then there’s the additional, but unthinkable, variable… what if it’s a girl. That’s when my brain went into a tailspin and I began following Ben around, not with a potato masher, but with one big question… “Hunny, do you think we are going to have more kids?” Poor Coffee Guy, he just gave me a look like I had stabbed him in the side. Ok, so maybe that was a little too much pressure, but what am I supposed to do about this teeny tiny clothing dilemma?

    You see, I already know what it’s like, opening those forgotten boxes. Staring at things you don’t remember ever owning and thinking to yourself, “Why on earth did I ever think this was worth keeping?” “How old IS this?” “Does this even work?” I’ve been there, I was the bride who stored her wedding gifts in her parents basement, never used, and took off for a faraway land. Is that kind of bride even in a category? Maybe like “Adventure Bride” or “Faraway Bride” or “Other Continent Bride.” Anyway, before I start coming up with even stranger bride categories, it’s here I stop, except to tell you that most of my little boy’s teeny tiny things now reside at the center for abandoned babies, Shepherd’s Keep, just two minutes from our house. I think they will be put to a much better, truer more beautiful use there. Letting go is a beautiful thing.

    Luv,

    Kristy (the mother of a toddler not a newborn)

  • supper time

    supper time

    Every night around the supper table we ask each other about the day. The goal being that the meal becomes more than just a battle to get the kids fed, it becomes instead our time to connect and “debrief”.  Our time to teach our kids about what it means to take an interest in one other, care for each another, and look out for each other.

    It’s our way of changing the focus of the meal from “getting the kids fed” and “shovelling it in” to appreciating the beauty of good food and a shared meal. We try to slow down and make eye contact, and not focus on our kid’s plates and our plates and the glasses being tipped over… with a four year old and a one year old this is a work in progress, but that’s ok, because the message of the meal will be the same for years to come.

    I always smile when four year old Myles straightens his back, looks around and pronounces in a grown up voice, “Mommy how was your day today?” Today I spent most of my day in worry and anxiety, and I couldn’t help but wish for a “do over.” A chance to go back and fully embrace the words below. To live them. To understand the beauty of trust. A chance to have a different answer at the supper table.

    Don’t fret or worry.

    Instead of worrying, pray.

    Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.

    Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down.

    It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.

    Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things

    true,

    noble,

    reputable,

    authentic,

    compelling,

    gracious—

    the best, not the worst;

    the beautiful, not the ugly;

    things to praise, not things to curse.

    Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized.

    Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.

    ~Philippians 4:6-9 (The Message)

    The thing about a harmony is, it involves trusting others, and it involves more than just one voice. Here’s to letting go of fear and anxiety, and embracing one excellent harmony.

    Kristy

  • Hanging Out.

    Neo reallly loves following his brother Myles around, much to the dismay of Myles! Here’s what I think goes on in Neo’s head…

    So I’ve been thinking, don’t you just love hanging out? I think you are the coolest big brother ever and I think we should spend all day together… just like this.

    undefinedIsn’t this fun? Good times, good times!

    undefinedDon’t you worry, because I know you are worried, but I’ll be back in a minute.

    undefinedHi mom. Could I get some more of those crackers you make? Thanks.

    Hi! It’s me again! Did you miss me? What’s going on? What are we doing now?

     

    undefinedI don’t get it. Why isn’t he playing?

     

    undefinedHey you? Why aren’t you playing with me? Want me to help you with that? What if I just grab that thing you are playing with? That might be fun!

    undefinedHey, where are you going?

    undefinedI don’t get it. What just happened? OHH… he wants to play hide and seek! Now I get it!

    undefinedFound you!

    undefinedWhat are we doin’ next? Have I told you I really like hanging out?

    undefined

    Luv,

    The Boys

  • Packing for Burundi

    I can’t say this has been an exceptional week.  I was on the phone with Wesley from Cooked in Africa Films and he could pick it up over the phone.  “You don’t sound your positive self Ben.”  And I haven’t.  It’s not so much the sheer mountain of logistics and details to organize, though the little things like visa’s for the five country-11 day road trip to Burundi do add up.  It’s an all-round atmosphere thing.

    Tension in the house with so many big decisions on our shoulders, and no more time to procrastinate has put the pressure on.  Four year old Boy Adventurer picks up on this and cranks up the whining to level 7.5.  Then teething Boy Biter adds in with non-stop whimpering and crying as four teeth try to break through his poor little gums all at once.  Ending nearly a decade of life in Durban South Africa seems to be filled with frustration and a time-bomb of anxiety and pressure dangling just above our heads.

    With all this boiling over frustration the best thing for me to do is go to Burundi, and leave Camera Girl with our two little darling boys and all the packing (hoping this blog post go’s unread by Kristy).  Reality is that I need to set up our business in Burundi and open a bank account so that we can get a work visa to live in the country.  Good news is that the ex-prime minister of the country and I have been talking and met a couple of times and he has his best lawyer working on this for us.  Then I need to travel into the hills to make initial contact with all the washing stations, convincing them to send me daily samples of their parchment coffee and find a person who can help me start to collect these samples, label them and make sure the washing stations follow through on any agreements we make.  Oh, yes, and the only other non-Burundian doing this just got death threats against him (don’t tell grandma).  To add to the legal stuff there is the “find a house” issue.  I don’t say issue lightly.  Burundi is a country with no real-estate agents or websites with video walk through tours and emails inquiry buttons to find out more details.  It’s a “drive around at night looking for dark windows because those are the houses no-one is living in and might be rentable” sort of place.  I’m going to be doing a lot of night driving next week.

    On the lighter side…. I do get to fly with a suitcase full of the first things we can leave in Bujumbura next week.  And with that added pressure/joy, the packing for Burundi begins.

    Coffee Guy

     

  • Tomorrow…

    Tomorrow Coffee Guy, my hubby, takes off for nearly two weeks. He will be attending EAFCA in Tanzania, meeting with key players who will help shape the future of coffee in Burundi. From there he will be off to Kenya, where he will meet with some of the leadership of The Navigators in Africa about our move to Burundi. I love our little family and it is a real bummer when we don’t get to spend every minute together, well ALMOST every minute… by 7:30pm I am usually ready for a loooong break from the tiny humans. It is hard when one of us is away, but the boys and I are planning to sleep in a tent in the living room, stay home from school, swim in the pool and generally have one big party!

    Once the party is over (around day 2, I’m guessin’), I plan on doing my darnest to look at the world like my rope swing loving son does. Up. Up towards God. Up for a new perspective. Up for a breather. Up to appreciate the light. Up just for fun!

    Luv,

    Kristy

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