My in-laws are driving me crazy! A must read for ALL in-laws

Hehe, I got you with this title. This is not a rant about my in-laws.

I have stumbled across a book that I would like to recommend to the entire world. Ok, just people who are or have ever been married, or related to someone who is or has been married, have kids who are or have been married or parents who are or have been married. That is probably 92.8% of the world's population, taking into account that that statistic is totally made up.

It's called Don't Roll Your Eyes: Making In-Laws into Family by Ruth Nemzoff. As people who know me or read this blog know, I'm in a cross-cultural marriage, so my in-laws have a different culture than I do. Before we got married, perhaps the number one question I heard was "How do you get along with his family?" accompanied by a cringe from the questioner. Turkish (and Greek, and Italian, and maybe all) mother-in-laws have a really bad reputation. Even Turkish daughter-in-laws rarely get along with their mother-in-laws, so throw in the cultural difference and people figured I was toast. And I have to say honestly, it has been a bumpy road so far for all of us. I'm not going to go into details because that won't be helpful. Reading Moonpie's birth story might give you an idea. But what is helpful is this book I'm reading. And she points out what I pointed out in my previous blog post - ALL marriages are cross-cultural. ALL marriages are the coming together of people from different backgrounds, and the coming together of two different, sometimes VERY different, families. It was really nice to read that and confirm what I had suspected.

This book is just so, so helpful. She addresses each chapter to different relationships, first parents in relating to their children's spouses, then adult children relating to their spouse's parents, then siblings relating to their sibling's spouses, then both sets of parents relating to each other, etc. She gives lots of examples, which won't ring true for everyone, but demonstrate principles to live by. Her main point, if I may summarize it, is that we are all different, and that is not a bad thing. Especially in in-law relationships we need to leave room for difference while giving each other the benefit of the doubt, and we need to turn the other cheek. A lot.

This book is by no means written from a Christian perspective, but it honestly gives better practical advice that I've read in any "Christian" book or website, which usually mention Ruth and Naomi. I wonder how many situations that story actually applies to in terms of losing all male relatives, converting to your mother-in-law's beliefs and moving with her back to her hometown where you marry one of her relatives and become an ancestor to the Savior of the world. I also wonder if the story of Ruth and Naomi was meant to be a model for in-law relationships, or rather a demonstration of God's generous redeeming grace. Anyway, I digress...

Another of her main assumptions is that you can't change other people, but you can change your attitudes and responses. If you really want to change your in-laws, you probably won't like this book, and if you just want to rant and rave about how crazy they are (I have been guilty of this), it also won't be your favorite book. It is a really challenging, but really rewarding book.

I think even people who think they have a great relationship with their in-laws should read this book. As she pointed out, big life events in a family like marriage, birth, illness, death, and divorce all ripple through a family and can change dynamics, possibly souring what was a great relationship if unspoken expectations aren't met. I wish someone had given me this book before we got married.

All this to say, I won't force you or twist your arm, but seriously, read this book.

                                                             

My Big Fat Turkish Birth

In honor of Moonpie's approaching 1st birthday (has it been a YEAR????), here is the story of her birth, sans (most) gory details.

Her due date was August 23^rd, or 26^th, depending on who you asked and when. I was going with the 26^th, since that was the first date we were given. I thought, “Surely she will come early. I came two weeks before my due date.” So I was all ramped up to give birth the first week of August. And the second. Third. Fourth. 

Her due date came and went. Nothing. Not even a smidgen of a contraction. I left work on August 12^th, and promptly planted myself under the A/C in our living room 24 hours a day, going between the couch and my yoga ball. My mother-in-law came to cook a meal for us the following week. She probably thought she would come once, then Moonpie would be born. Nope. She came back like 4 times. That was awesome of her. I got really into rodeo, which they were showing on daytime TV for some reason, and this cleaning contest show. My husband thought I was losing my mind. 

That bottom line shows contractions. Totally flat.

My husband’s cousin got married on August 30^th. We thought, “Oh, we’ll have a newborn then, we won’t be able to go.” We didn’t.

My husband’s aunt and uncle who came into town for the wedding came to visit us September 1^st. They joked about how they thought they would be able to visit the baby, but there I was, still pregnant. Haha.

I had started saying things like, “I’m going to be pregnant forever.” I was having a check-up every week, then twice a week. My whole pregnancy we had never caught Moonpie's face on an ultrasound. My doctor finally was able to show me her face in 3D on August 31st. You know what I said? "I don't want to see her face. I want to see her." Such a magical moment, I know. My doctor scheduled a c-section for September 4^th.

My water broke at 2AM on September 2nd. We went to the hospital at 3AM. In retrospect, I wish I had just laid down and gotten some more rest. They didn’t do anything at the hospital except confirm that my water had broken and wait for contractions to start (they didn’t). My in-laws showed up around 4AM, and just crashed on the empty hospital bed next to me. So basically it would have been better to stay at home until a decent hour. Lesson learned.

The next day was a lot of waiting for contractions to start, getting medicine to do that, contractions not starting. By the afternoon my doctor just called it – if your body still isn’t doing anything in an hour, we’re doing a c-section. I had heard you can go 24 hours after your water breaks, but my body wasn't doing ANYTHING. Nothing. 

At the time I was really upset about this. I really wanted to give birth, but it wasn’t happening, and I was getting pretty tired, so I might not have been able to anyway. I was crying. Actually, everyone was crying. Oh, did I mention that there were 9 of husband’s family members with us? Yes, yes there were.

They took me to the OR around 2:30 in the afternoon, and Moonpie was born at 3:05PM. They didn’t let my husband come (we knew that beforehand), so I was alone, and I felt really alone. I was just crying and holding on to God, and I knew He was with me. The nurse asked why I was crying, but the doctor answered for me - "She didn't want a c-section, and she wanted her husband with her. But it's going to be ok because you're going to see your baby really soon." Then they gave me something in my IV that made me throw up into my oxygen mask. I told the anesthesiologist, “I’m going to throw up.” And she said, “Don’t worry, everyone feels like that.” Then I threw up, and she was like, “Oh, she’s throwing up.” Someone helped me and cleaned my face off because my arms were velcroed down for some reason, so that was nice of them. For some reason I felt a lot better after that.

When the doctor first saw her she said, “Oh, she’s dark! You got your wish!” (I had said I wanted her to look like her daddy. She is now basically blond. My husband likes to rub this in my face.) Her first little cries were amazing. Truly amazing. I’ve never been so happy to hear any sound ever. I just said, "Thank you, Jesus." 

They brought her up to my face and I kissed her little face all over. Her eyes were open and she had a really surprised expression on her face, like she wanted to say “What the...?” I don’t have a picture, but I’ll remember it forever. Then they whisked her away, and I fell asleep while they were stitching me up.

I went back to the hospital room with 9 of my in-laws, plus my husband and daughter waiting for me. She was screaming her head off. I was euphoric. I wish I could always be that euphoric to hear her screaming. Anyway, they gave her to me and I nursed her right away. She did great – she knew what to do. And I had like 5 people telling me what to do, so that was taken care of.

My husband’s family being there was really touching. It was amazing to see all of the love that Moonpie entered into in the minutes after she was born. She was literally surrounded by people who love her. But... my husband and I both agreed that if we do this again, we will try really hard to make it a little (lot) lower key and less crowded. I'll let you know how that goes.

So, my little Moonpie is nearly 1, nearly walking, talking in her own Moonpie language, and absolutely beautiful. Happy Birthday, babe!

Tim Duncan Inspiration

The Spurs just won their 5^th NBA title this year. That makes them 4^th all time in the NBA, but they’re up against the Boston Celtics’ record of 17, with 8 in a row from 1959 to 1966. That’s incredible. But five is also incredible, and they’ve done it with more or less the same group of core players each time. Anyway, I tend to really dislike the Spurs because, I don’t know, they always win, and I’m a Suns fan. There were a few years there at the height of the Suns’ Steve Nash era where it seemed like every time we felt like we had a chance to make it to the Finals, Tim Duncan was just standing there, like, “Nope.” Grrr. But, they are a really good team, not flashy, but really, really good. So, I let my bitterness go and decided to be really happy for the Spurs and learn more about them, because Tim Duncan is 38 years old and just won his 5^th title. That’s quite a career. I watched a little YouTube video about his life and career (this link is for part 1), and it made me sorry that I disliked him so much. He seems like a nice guy, and he’s one of those people who just worked really hard and then got swept up by “luck”. I even felt inspired by how he found his path in life. A hurricane and his mother dying when he was a teenager pushed him away from the sport he loved, swimming, and towards a sport he wasn’t very good at, basketball. At least in the video, he attributed this to God’s direction for his life. I was thinking all about this during my “lunch walk” today. He says he wasn’t very good at basketball at the beginning, but through encouragement and practice, he got good enough to be recruited by a US university, where he got good enough to be a number 1 draft pick! The guy is talented, but I’m sure that also involved lots and lots and lots of hard, hard work.

And I was wondering - Am I putting in that kind of effort towards the purpose God has for me? Am I floating through, or am I really giving it my all? It was a little heart-check moment. I’m not talking about earning God’s grace. No way. I’m talking about what God has me on the earth to do, my “calling” or whatever you want to call it. Am I doing the hard work required to be a great wife and mother? Am I sweating it out to be a better teacher? I could definitely improve. Not to please people or earn praise, but just to be the best I can be.

I also thought about the book I’m reading now, Raising Kids for True Greatness by Dr. Tim Kimmel (Amazon affiliate link below). I’m just a few chapters in, but so far the book is making a case for our goal for our kids to be “true greatness” instead of “success”. It seems like Tim Duncan’s parents raised him for true greatness, and he found success along the way as a byproduct.

I never thought I would be inspired to follow God more closely and parent with more purpose by Tim Duncan. Thank you, God. And thank you, Mr. Duncan. Congratulations on amazing success!

The Big 3-0!

I just celebrated my 30^th birthday. As luck would have it, this is also the 30th post on Marie in Stitches!
I really hadn’t thought much about it until, like, the day before (Oh my gosh! It's the last day of my 20s!!!). My life is so full right now with taking care of Moonpie, spending time with my husband, going back to work and balancing out the everyday things like housework and cooking, and I'm really, really thankful for all of this.

Birthday Carrot Cake at the office.

My boss turned 30 a few years back and told us all there at the office party for him that he feels like 30 is when life really starts. He said his 20s were all about trying to get somewhere, but as he approached 30 he began to feel like he could stop trying to get somewhere and just enjoy where he was. At the time I remember thinking, "That's what people turning 30 say to make themselves feel better." But now that I'm turning 30, I think I agree! Not that I’m going to stop doing anything new now that I’m at the old age of 30, but my 20s really were full of angst, and I think they are for a lot of people – trying to finish a college degree, trying to finish a master’s degree (thanks, Dad, for pushing me), finding a job (or 2), moving to a new country, getting married, having a baby. All good things, and I think pretty typical things for people to do in their 20s.

Birthday roses from my wonderful husband!

Looking at my 30s, I don’t know what God has for me, but I’m excited to find out!

Cross-Cultural Marriage Series Part 4: Starting from Scratch

For the final part of this cross-cultural marriage series, I am going to get all philosophical on you. When I was brainstorming this series, I naturally asked my other half what HE liked about our cross-cultural marriage. And do you know what he said?

“I like that we had to take everything we thought we knew, throw it out, and start from scratch together.”

I couldn’t have said it better. When we grow up, we learn things from our family, friends, neighbors, and people in general around us about how the world works or should work, and this forms our culture. It shapes how we understand the world, how we believe we should act, what we value, eat, drink, pretty much almost everything we do. It also informs our expectations in our marriage. When I married my Turkish husband, I began sharing my life, and possibly more difficult – my living space – with someone who thought differently than me on a lot of issues. I gave some examples in the first post – from when one should eat ice cream to when one should go to the doctor, that first year we were discovering differences almost every day. But beyond these there were bigger issues, like what is really important in our lives and how we spend our time and money.

Instead of getting in a cultural tug of war, we look to our mutual “most important” – God, His Word, His grace. Since we committed to follow and serve Christ together on our wedding day, we realize that we have to evaluate every other thing, including our cultural values, in light of Him.

So, that first year, I had to let go of things I thought were my “rights”, but really turned out to be materialism and selfishness because the Bible says things like “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” and “Wives, submit yourselves to your own to your husbands as you do to the Lord.” He had to let go of the macho male attitude that most other Turkish men have because the Bible says things like “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” He is really, really good at doing this, by the way, whereas I have a ways to go in loving my neighbors and submitting.

I love that our cross-cultural marriage doesn’t let us go with what feels right or what everybody else is doing. When we encounter a big difference, it’s a chance to look to God and see what really is the right way to go.

Wild Grapes

In honor of Easter I have been reading part of John Stott's "Through the Bible" daily devotional book. Today I hit a devotional about John 15 - The Vine and the Branches. A few years back God used these verses to cause some growth in my spiritual life and hammer out some "trust issues" I had been having with Him. So, it was really nice to be reminded of this teaching. It felt like returning to and old friend's house.

Then, in the middle of the devotional there were some suggested readings the normal verses about the fruit of the Spirit, and then Isaiah 5. So, I looked at Isaiah 5. God found some good soil, planted a vineyard, made it all nice, but then the vines gave wild grapes instead of grapes. I don't know what wild grapes are, but apparently not the result He was going for, because he proceeds to trample the vineyard, undo everything He had done, and let it get overgrown with weeds and thorns. I just keep thinking - what are wild grapes? So, I looked it up.

Most commentators that I read about commented that wild grapes are beautiful, but sour and even poisonous. Also, they are what you would expect in the wild if nothing was done to cultivate a vineyard. So, rather than just even being unfruitful, which perhaps would have warranted more care (just my speculation), God's vineyard had actually produced bad fruit as if He had done nothing at all. So, in my life, wild grapes would be the natural sin from my sin nature. Is there good fruit in my life? Do I live as if God has done anything at all for me? Sometimes I wonder, but then I go back to the vine and the branches. Christ is the true vine. If I am living in Him, I will produce fruit. The branch can't say "Well, I feel like producing fruit today." It just does.

One more part of the devotional that struck me was about pruning. I thought of my mom and grandma. They always get so much grief over their overpruning practices ("Don't kill the thing!"), but in the springtime, my mom's garden is really something to see. There is color everywhere. Stott mentions also that spiritual growth is rarely disconnected with some kind of suffering. This is a great thought. Happy Easter everyone! He is Risen!