Thursday, June 12, 2014

Desperate times need desperate measures

Sorry about not blogging these two months. I have been busy gardening, praying and trying to enjoy Spring and sunshine. But now ...

Dear All,

WonderfulHusband is going to be laid off from work very soon. Reason being - the parish that owns the school where he works cannot afford a full-time math teacher anymore. Actually, this parish cannot afford the school. WonderfulHusband was working for 3/4 of proper teacher's salary anyway and with the increased prices everywhere we have no savings at all. I still have my job, but I absolutely want to quit ... Also, my salary won't cover more than half of our expenses and no, it is quite impossible to be much more frugal than we are now. Working at school in Estonia is "a financial suicide", a wise man said. I think he is right. Also, there are no vacancies in schools close to us this year because whole system is being changed and many teachers lose their jobs.

Anyway. He needs a job. WonderfulHusband needs a good job that suits him, that he would like to do and that would bring in some money (can you say in English "it would bring bread on the table"?). Nice people and reasonable working conditions are sort of natural things to ask, right? I mean, most people are really nice ... The job could happen anywhere in the world where it's safe to bring family along (we both speak English and German fluently). I really don't think that any of you Faithful Readers  - and you must be faithful because you still look in here after I have been silent for so long - could offer him a job as IT-technician or math analyst or something like that what he probably could be good at, but I am asking for prayers. Prayers about guidance, right decisions and a good job that would suit to my husband who is just the second best thing that ever happened to me and the best thing that happened to our boys. The best thing that happened to me is that I got saved. I am not sure if any of our children has understood the concept already.

Thank you for your attention, I think I can go on with a normal blog post now.

There have not been many things happening lately. The official school year ended and the boys got their report cards. Leader Of The Pack brought home a Special Honours card, The Dreamer was just average. He - our FAS-RAD-Asperger kid - was terribly tired of the school year, but is bouncing back quite nicely. Lillebror is just his old self, full of jokes and terribly spoiled. We love him so much!
We are going to meet our child welfare officer in July, then I can ask her about adopting more children - although at the moment we can barely feed those three! I would love to have some little girls, too.
Right now we continue our "summer homeschool" and hope for the first strawberries from the garden. If there will be sunshine over the weekend, we could even get some.

Monday, April 21, 2014

The power of God's love

I am not a nice person. I get angry, I am nervous, I hatehatehate ... I can be very unpleasant and unfair. I try not to be, but ...

Today a woman tried to put a curse on me. Like, really. In front of my boss (who was speechless, too). She had decided that I am the source of all evil and that love and support that I have tried to give to her child are just curiosity so that I would have another exciting story to tell to the other teachers over a cup of coffee. Imagine.

She was misled, but as a really strong-willed person (so she seemed to me) she refused to accept my explanations about what really happened. Sometimes it happens this way and it cannot be changed. You know the joke about how many psychologists it takes to change a lightbulb? Only one, but the lightbulb has to co-operate.

And do you know what filled me with wonder when I thought back about this whole situation, being cursed and blamed in things that I have not done? I felt no anger toward this woman. I even had no ill thoughts about her. Instead I looked at her pretty (as in: nice, intelligent, friendly in other situations) face and thought how God should please bless her. I prayed for her while she kept saying ugly, terrible, disgusting things about me. Thinking back, I wonder why this woman was like that - I mean, her face didn't show that she would be a cold, stupid or hateful person in general. Can it be that some evil spirit was talking through her, trying to hurt me?

As a child of God, I cannot be seriously hurt by words and curses like that. It was unpleasant, yes, and I am not feeling fine after all that (she has spent 5,5 hours blaming and cursing me, 1,5 over the telephone on Thursday and 4 hours today), but I have hope that I am going to be fine again.

But what really amazes me is the love I felt. As I said, I am not a nice person. This love is not in me, it does not come from the depths of my soul, from my upbringing or my personality. It was just the love of Jesus that supported me all this difficult, crazy, irrational talk and made me love this woman. I wish she would become saved one day and experience God's love as deeply as I experienced it today.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Making the list ...

Have you read the international news lately? About Ukraine and Russia?
Guess what - our big eastern neighbour is already talking about taking over the Baltic states. Again.

I grew up in a "closed" town - because of the huge military airport really close to our home. On Sundays, the pilots did "training flights" over the city. Very low. Rumors were that they were drunk then. So it might have been - with my parents' house overlooking the river valley, the planes often flew very nearly into the window of my bedroom (OK, it seemed awfully close, I think they were always playing on the edge of a catastrophe). Also, there were very quiet talks about Russian soldiers abusing Estonian girls and overall fear. We know that these soldiers poisoned our family's dog because it hated their drunken noise and barked.

Also, my father (who is 81 now) was deported to Siberia twice. Once in 1941 with his mother and little brother, his father being deported separately (and later killed in a gold mine), got back to Estonia in 1947 or 1948 because of his young age, and the second time in 1949 right from school because he had turned 16 just a month earlier ... He spent 14 years in Siberia, in seven different prisons. When I was little, I was sharing the bedroom with my parents. Father often screamed in his sleep. Mother said that he has nightmares about Siberia. After Estonia got the independence again, these nightmares ceased, only to start again during the Bronze Night.

I grew up in fear that has only grown after we have had the "taste of independence and freedom". I love some aspects of Russia - St Petersburg is The Big City of my childhood, we have experienced russian hospitality and russian gospel music is just wonderful -, but I also hate and fear them. I fear those who have listened to mr Putler's propaganda. I fear those who still believe that their grandfathers died for a good cause - being actually forced to join the army to fulfill Stalin's ambitions. I fear those who have no heart, no God, no love. And believe me, in Russia there are plenty of these people.

So I am making a list of things to grab when time comes to grab everything valuable and run. Jewellery, documents, children's books - from Estonian authors! -, favourite toys and photos. Meaning the computer, since we have never gotten to making proper photo albums or scrapbooks. Maybe - just maybe - this will not happen, but we are not sure. Not sure at all.

Please, pray for Estonia and other countries that Russia would want to occupy again. We are angry and worried.

Monday, March 3, 2014

Fabulous Five

Somebody snatched my baby away and gave me a big boy instead. This is the way I feel about Lillebror.

He turned 5 today. This cannot be so, right? Just a second ago he was 11 months old and we all were still adjusting to the whole new situation.

At 5, Lillebror can: all kinds of acrobatics tricks, teached by older brothers; read and write, um his approach to grammatics is a bit complicated, but we are working on it - anyway, when he writes about sheep it does not say "crocodiles"; tell several Bible stories; understand German as it is spoken on TV; some words in English, teached by older brothers; be cute and kind. He cannot: ride a bike; eat his dinner - or any other food - without trying to skip it; control his giggles; clean up children's room because there are too many things to play with.

He loves penguins, math, swimming, being silly, strawberry jam, gummy bears and pumpkin coconut cake. And Daddy ... and Granny ... and Mommy, too. I hope. :)

He shows no signs of RAD or FAS, he is just utterly spoiled by Granny. His constant ear infections have ceased a bit and his heart will hopefully grow strong without any surgery - it is getting better, anyway.

I am happy with the way he is. He is still homeschooled and will be at least until he turns seven. He has heard stories about the "Other Mommy" and orphanage, but he does not know any other way of living than with us, and I am his only "real Mom".

 This is the way he had dinner at the age of 11 months. Pureed blueberries and apples, just 3 days at home. Sorry about the blur.

 And this was his birthday dinner today. Same kitchen, same boy, just a different menu (and a different way of eating!) - potatoes, Schnitzel and glazed carrots. Nothing really fancy, but homemade and good.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014


In all the hard times in January there was a highlight, too - we went to Algarve, Portugal. There was an international project in the school where WonderfulHusband works, and he told me to come along. I was not sure of it at first, but since WonderfulHusband's plane ticket and hotel were paid by this project's money (it is too complicated to explain, but apparently there is some organization that gives money for schoolteachers so that they can travel and exchange experiences), we only had to pay for my tickets and hotel - and at this time of the year, a double room is almost as cheap as a single.

We left our boys at my parents and gave them all clear instructions about schoolwork and visiting friends. The most important instruction was "Granny is right!".

We started in Tartu around 5 in the morning, took a bus to Riga (capital of Latvia), a plane to Manchester, UK and from there another plane to Faro, Algarve. We had -4'F in Tartu, 19'F in Riga, 40'F in Manchester and 60'F in Faro - so in only 12 hours we went from regular Estonian winter into a near-regular Estonian summer. Although here we never get palm trees or orange trees bearing fruit ... in front of town hall.

We had four full days there, filled with meetings, walks around the town (not Faro, but a really small and cute town near to the border to Spain), strange food and interesting experiences. Although the food was strange, it was not bad. WonderfulHusband was a bit unhappy at first because almost every day we had fish (he does not like fish), but vegetarian options were fine, too. One day we walked to the beach that reaches endlessly over almost all Algarve and picked ... shells, shells, shells. And pine cones from the woods. I mean, everybody loves shells and pine cones, right? We were a bit nervous about bringing them home - maybe them being a biohazard or something - but everything went smoothly, even with the English airport.

Then just on my birthday we came back. At 6 in the morning to Faro, from there to Stansted, UK, then to Tallinn that is our capital. From there we took a bus home. The weather ... was the same, just in opposite direction. So we went from summer to bitterly cold winter. In Stansted we had 6 hours to kill, so we decided to take a bus to a nearby town. In this town we found a coffee shop and had cake ... I refused to eat chocolate for several weeks after that because this was the biggest, sweetest and chocolatiest (sorry about making up a word in a wrong way, hope that you understand what I mean) birthday cake I had ever had!

I just felt sorry that we couldn't bring the boys. They would have loved it there! Maybe we will be able to take them there someday.

 The oranges were not ripe yet, said the locals. We "stole" one and it tasted better than those that we get in the supermarkt in Estonia!
 Just someone's backyard. We see those plants in Estonia, too -only indoors.
 The beach.
Coffee and cake in England. Next time I want to stay longer in this town - to try more sorts of the cake!

Friday, February 21, 2014


Lillebror is very nearly 5. I still cannot understand it that Leader Of The Pack once fitted into the sweater that Lillebror is wearing, and that The Dreamer was once that small ...

Anyway, this kid says the funniest things. He has serious questions, too, like: "Who created God?"

But three minutes ago ...

He fell today on his face. There will be a black eye, I think. :( Also, he bumped his cheek and his nose. I was vacuuming in the bedroom, so I have no idea how this happened - but an almost 5-year-old should be be to stay alive at home, right?

Now, several hours after the fall, he came to me and complained that he is "more used to that his nose does not hurt".

True, Lillebror, true. I hope this bruise will heal soon.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

I saw a ghost today

I was at work, on my way to speak to a teacher when I saw a girl sitting in the corridor, with her back to the window so I didn't see her face at first. Just the hair. Ginger, long, wavy. HER hair. I canceled the possible work for the rest of the day and just sat in my office, reading.

But wait - I have to go back in time four weeks.

Friday morning really early when we were riding to town, my husband behind the wheel, all kids in the back row, my cell phone rang. Unusual at this time of the day, but sometimes it happens. It was the social worker of the school where I work. Just some seconds into the conversation I screamed. Then I searched frantically for the number of a pastor (not ours) and called him - a very young and, as it seemed to me this morning, also confused and hurt. Then we were at school, letting the boys out ... and I was allowed to cry. Probably at the very moment when my MIL was dying at her home, but we didn't know about that yet. This phone call came later - by this time I felt like in the worst movie anybody has ever made.

One of our former students, a pretty, talented and sweet girl was dead. Police doubts suicide ... Her friends didn't. They knew. People don't fall from the really tiny window on the 9th floor by accident.

Everybody who knew her loved her. There was a lot of crying on this day at school. The friends, the teachers. The 14-year-old girl who first called the ambulance. I was not really able to help much, because I had loved this girl, too - a year ago we had a serious talk about her family situation (younger brother entered puberty with a bang) and her best friend has almost lived in my office all these years.

So much life in her, so many hopes - and suddenly it all was gone. Between running back and forth and listening others being shocked I had time to talk to our pastor on the phone. This helped a bit. But still - this girl was a Christian. Will she be held responsible? Will she get her wings?

I dreamed about her last week. She looked tired and there were no wings, but she said that she is OK. (I hardly ever dream about people who are dead, but when this happens - like third time in my life - I think they could be real meetings) I have heard that in some religions (Russian Orthodox, too, and they are Christians!) people believe that a soul is somewhere "in between" for 40 days after death. So is there still the hope of wings?

There are other teachers who have seen her in their dreams or felt her "presence" at school. (The family, of course, is devastated.) From the window of my office I can see the house where she lived and "this" window, too. So I guess the school was the last thing that she saw in this life. All teachers and her friends know it. Maybe this is the reason why we still "feel" her?

The Friday 4 weeks ago was terrible and the next day was not much better. We were at home and tried to keep to our regular routines, but in my mind two faces flicked - this girl and MIL, MIL and this girl. I was really thankful when I cut my leg in the evening, bled a lot and was finally able to cry over all this.

Please, keep this girl's family in your prayers. And in case you think that she could somehow still be around, pray for her, too. She was one of "my" children and she always will be. I would like to give her a hug and a lecture (about hurting people so much) in Heaven.