Table for two, please.

Well, the 6 month blues are finally wearing off, thankfully, and it's starting to feel like home around here. I had been warned {thank you Debbie!} about the homesick blues, and it appears to hit most people between the 3 and 6 month mark. The homesick blues are when you hit the point of "this-place-stinks-and-I-wanna-go-home" as the excitement and newness fades. I am grateful to have been prepared for that part of our Cambodian adventure, and hopefully my experience will serve as a help to another missionary wife in the future. As the homesick blues dissipate, we're settling in quite nicely. Bradley's second semester is under way, and as he works at the same time each day, all be it, the days still vary, it has allowed for a more steady rhythm in our life. We have both been busy with various projects, as we work together to set up our homestead, and I am thrilled to announce the newest addition to our home: our table! First, though, let me take you on the fascinating journey of table crafting...

Phase 1: Finding the perfect piece

Bradley, the poor soul, was forced to hunt down this piece in a small warehouse full of every size of wood imaginable. {For those who don't know, Bradley is obsessed with wood. In other words, it was like a kid in a candy store}

Unfortunately, this piece was not deep enough to serve as a table. So, Bradley chose to try his hand at concrete. He followed a natural split, and then drilled holes to create the rest of the split.

Our stair rail served as his make shift "work table." He used a kromaa and a small piece of wood as a sort of clamp for the base pieces.

He cut the rebar into small pieces to insert into the strips of table where the concrete would later be poured.

Hacksaw + man power = baby rebars

Baby rebars in place.

Essentials for my craftsman: sketch pad; measuring tape; and most importantly, a hot cup of coffee.

Yes. That is a hand saw.

Yes. He sawed everything by hand.

Yes. He misses his power tools.

Phase 2: Mending the tear

Aww, finally a power tool. His drill was his only electrical friend on this job... well besides lights.

Wood crafting is a dirty business...

Yuck!

Phase 2 completed.

Bradley is 6 feet tall, for a reference on the length of our table.

Phase 3: Concrete evidence

My hubby did his research! He went online to find, and then create 6 different concrete recipes. In the states, we would buy concrete bags, premixed. Here, you purchase the separate components to mix on your own. After the 6 samples had dried, he did a stress test to see which ones would move onto the final round: Brandi's texture obsession. Four samples made it to my hands, and sample "A" was the winner. Its color, appearance, and texture were perfect for our table.

Late night mixing...

Time to pour, spread, and cover.

After the concrete dried, my artist chiseled away at his baby, ensuring the smoothest surface possible. Then onto the last stage of the process:

Phase 4: Apply sealer, and enjoy!

Isn't it absolutely gorgeous!

Front view of the table and base.

The base. The vertical pieces are what were "clamped" down with the kromaa and wood piece.

We love our table, and have already employed it for games, office hours, and our Khmer lessons!

It never crossed my mind that a table would make our home feel more like a home, but, as an American, it makes sense. Although any table would have worked in our space, no other piece would be such a blessing. I'm not a huge gifts person when it comes to my love language, but this gift was an act of service and love. I feel very blessed to have such a talented husband. After 10 years of marriage, he still has the ability to amaze me with his talents. I'm jazzed to see what he'll make me after 20 years. Hehe! ;o)

Question time: What piece of furniture makes your home feel like a home?

Who needs an enemy when I have me?

The month of January flew by, and I feel like I lost so much of my life in those 4 1/2 weeks. Byron, my brother, came for a 2 week visit, and it was sorely needed. Between being homesick and struggling with cultural frustrations, I needed to see his face and hear his hearty laugh in person. His light-hearted, yet deep-thinking spirit was a blessing, but then he was gone. The following few weeks were spent attempting to play catch up with the tasks, chores, and work we'd neglected during our stay-cation with my brother.

Here we are now, nearing the eight month mark of our stay in Cambodia, and I'm feeling overwhelmed. I have work for Flirting with Fonts; design work to aid in our mission here; we're increasing our Khmer classes, which is greatly needed; and a home that has several projects yet to be completed. All of this is hanging over my head, while I try to complete normal day to day tasks. Sometimes I feel like I'm at the kitchenette, preparing meals for 80% of my day, and for someone who would honestly eat pbj's and cereal for most of her meals if she were single, it can be a beat down. Yes, I feel horrible saying that, as feeding my family is a priority, but I still struggle with feeling like I'm "wasting" my time preparing food, when I could be working. No, I am not saying that food prep is a waste of time, b/c it is obviously a necessity, and therefore an extremely important job, and yet I still wrestle with the feeling of futility in my efforts.

So, here I am, writing, in hopes that this will allow me to release. Back home, I had several factors present in my life which assisted in lowering my stress levels. First, I had the boys. Zach and Max were my focus. I know for some people, children are a stress. I do not mean that children are an unpleasantry, but rather, no matter how much that mother, father, or person loves said child, they often feel flustered or out of control in their presence. I know some wonderful, loving mothers, who seem to have the most peace when they are alone. They seem more capable of focus and peace apart from the child or children, and in having those moments of peace and quiet, they can then be more purposeful for their child/ren. Although I had my moments when I needed alone time, apart from the boys, in order to collect my thoughts, overall, children focus and calm me. They provide an energy or source of peace for me that I don't find with adults, or even alone. Left to myself, I often fall into a routine of I-don't-know-what-to-accomplish-first, and then I overwhelm, overload, and melt down. It's really rather pathetic, but true. With children, I just do. I don't think about it; I just clean, organize, and work. I think it's because my focus is on the child/ren, and I am distracted from my annoying, over-analyzing brain. Between insuring proper nutrients are supplied; playtime is peaceful; screen time is monitored; sufficient nap time is given; and an overall well-being is provided, well, who has time to worry about the order in which your tasks are accomplished? It's almost like my mind finds peace in multi-tasking. My conscience can focus on the little ones, while my sub-concsience tends to all of the other items on my to-do list. My favorite time was after the boys had woken from their naps. Neither of them woke up peppy in the afternoon, and I relished quiet snuggles on the couch while Little Bear or Peppa Pig brought them back to life. As a physical affection person, holding my little guys was a piece of paradise for me, but I no longer have my boys on a daily basis - a heart heavy topic in and of itself. When I do see them, my attention is 100% on them during our Skype sessions, as they are my sole and only purpose and accomplishment during those moments. I cannot wait to once again hold my little slices of paradise in my arms. I miss them so much.

Another stress relief was my cat, Oscar, and every once in a while our other feline, Bitsy, would stop being a brat long enough to give me some love too. In those moments when the ceiling was crushing down on me, grabbing that little fur ball, and snuggling him under my arm was a solace. He didn't expect anything from me, so long as I had filled his food and water bowls at some point during the day, and to have that moment of freedom from responsibility; to be completely selfish in cuddling with my little fur baby; it was invaluable. Although my kitties are well cared for in the states (thank you mom and Granny!!!), I no longer have that option of temporary retreat from the world. Animals are very different here in Cambodia. They are usually treated more like strays than pets, but even if you do find one that is used to being loved by their master, they are so dirty and ridden with disease and parasites, loving on them is not a safe or viable option.

So, I strive to create a peaceful homestead, yet, I don't have my boys or Oscar during those times of desired refocus or retreat. Here, I have different and sometimes greater stresses in this task. I cannot simply make a run to the nearest Target or Hobby Lobby for decor or crafting needs. Then I flip, focusing on the notion that things do not make a home; people do. Striving for balance between making our home welcoming while remembering this is a temporary homestead, is to say the least, challenging for this over-thinker. In the moments I'd temporarily withdraw from the world with Oscar in tow, Bradley could continue his life, free from my crazy self, but I do not have Oscar here. My poor husband has to deal with me as is, and let me tell you, it is not pretty. We all have our flaws, and one of my greatest ones is allowing myself to be swallowed by disappointment. I have always been this way though. My mother said that conferences with my grade school teachers went something like this, "Brandi is an excellent student. She loves to learn, and is always eager to help her fellow students (a nice way to say I talked too much). However, she tends to spend too much time on her work. She wants things to be perfect, and therefore has a hard time moving onto another task if her first task is incomplete or does not meet her expectations." Well, not much has changed. I still love learning; I am still eager to help others; I still talk too much; and I still strive for perfection, even when it's unnecessary... and possibly unhealthy. Ugh! My mother has always said I am my own worst enemy, and it remains the same at thirty-two years of age.

However, I am determined to not let this get the best of me. Satan is very crafty in his ways of toying with us, and he knows that I am my own worst enemy. I've been making his job easier, and I realize that I have to stop. My goal this week: accept imperfection, and embrace reality. After all that I have learned through my trial with infertility, I still find myself struggling with feeling out of control. Silly Brandi. When will you ever learn? You have never been in control, and the only way you can gain control of your stress is to let it go. It worked for Queen Elsa, right? ;o) Proverbs 3:5-6 will be my montra, and I will find peace in His truths, because in order to fully serve the great I AM, I have to remember that I am not.

Okay, question time...

What is something that gives you comfort and/or peace when stress knocks down your door?