should I cut my hair like this?

So... they always say not to make any major decisions in late pregnancy. And "they" are probably totally right.

But I can't help myself. I'm just so sick and tired of the same-old same old. I want something new.

Today's daydream? Should I cut my hair kind of like this? I'm thinking sleek shoulder length bob, a little shorter in the back and longer in the front. But with sideswept bangs and a side part.

Thoughts, dear readers?

...this kind of angle from front to back...

this length - touching the shoulders

this kind of side part, keeping my side bangs

Leave me comments!!!!
(pretty please?)

© Sarah K. Asaftei, 2009 unless otherwise sourced. Use allowed by express written permission only.

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those women I used to make fun of...

I used to really think some women were idiots.

You know the kind - where the smallest thing happens and they just turn into helpless, defenseless creatures that must be waited upon hand and foot.

I thought they were dumb.

I was never EVER going to be helpless. I could change my own oil, fix a flat tire, drive a stick shift, cook a scrumptious dinner, sew my own clothes, change my own light bulbs and tie a mean Trucker's Slipknot.

No way was anything, including pregnancy, going to transform me into a waddling, bed-ridden, damsel in distress who needed things lifted/carried/remembered or anything else.

I had no sympathy for people who started sentences only to drop off slack-jawed halfway through. No compassion for those who snapped their fingers in hopes of sparking a memory of that name or telephone number that just mentally vanished.

And zero patience for anyone who moved slower, thought clumsier, functioned with less self-discipline or somehow just couldn't keep up.

I mean, I tried to be polite about it and all... But deep down inside, those people drove me batty.

Then I got pregnant. The brain that once stored dozens of faces, names, telephone numbers, email addresses? The body that once trotted to the gym several days a week for grueling one-hour workouts?

Brain = bowl of mushy oatmeal. Some days with green fuzzies growing on top.

Body = three-toed jungle sloth. Can't bend over without grabbing onto something. Must take time to carry the lightest loads.

Ridiculous.

Is this really me? Oh yeah baby.

Funny how life has ways of turning our arrogance on its ear and hitting the spin cycle. I no longer laugh at those who can't keep up with my old pace. Oh right, that's cause I can't keep up with my old self these days.

For those of you who haven't been pregnant yet, and think I'm just whining pointlessly - you just wait. I always told myself that I would just mind-over-matter and push right through anything my body threw at me. I wouldn't give in to being sick. I wouldn't go all mushy and helpless.

But you really don't know how your body's going to react until you're in the middle. You might think you can keep up the pace, but then maybe you won't. You might think you can keep working right up until the baby's born, but you might draw the lucky bedrest card.

If I believed in karma, I'd say karma's having a good laugh.

© Sarah K. Asaftei, 2009 unless otherwise sourced. Use allowed by express written permission only.

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are you just not the mothering type?

On our next anniversary, we'll celebrate seven years of marriage. The last four years have included not only active church involvement, domestic travel for speaking engagements, and international travel for my work in training pastors for evangelism.

As a result, I often field questions like "What is your position on women's ordination?" and "How do you juggle being a local pastor's wife with three or more months of international travel each year?"

And of course, there's the inevitable: "When are you guys going to have kids? Or are you just not the mothering type?"

I learned quickly that nobody particularly wanted the real answer. They just wanted to probe. To be a little nosy. How will she react? Is she feminine or feminist?

So my standard answer became, "Well, it just hasn't happened for us yet." At which point people either nodded and moved on, or launched into detailed personal stories about all the other people they knew who were experiencing infertility, too. Which, of course, wasn't exactly what I meant. But anyway...

The real answer?

I'm definitely the mothering type. But there's no way I was going to become a mother before I could be the kind of parent that I think God calls today's mothers to be.

We weren't ready yet. We believe that whenever possible, it's best to have a marriage before adding a family. We wanted time to travel and explore the world together. We spent the first 4.5 years sharing our home with always at least one member of extended family. We wanted some time alone together after the last family members moved out.

And we have very distinct and definite ideas about the kind of home we want to create for our children.

Those ideas do not include daycare, absentee parenting, or using the TV as a babysitter. And we plan to do weird, old-fashioned things that lots of people think are unusual these days - like breast-feeding, gardening, homeschooling, and so on.

None of which are exactly compatible with Mommy jetting off to the UK or Australia or Russia for 2 to 5 weeks at a time.

Hence, no kids. Doesn't mean mommy won't do some work at home or earn some money on the side or stay involved in ministry and other contributions - after all, she has at least a decade left of paying off the loans for her master's degree!

Now, while the news about Munchkin #1 was a bit of a surprise - it did come at a time when the house was empty of relatives, the cars and credit cards were paid off, and Mommy's work was flexible - at least until September, when she'll be back on the job hunt - but we digress.

So why didn't we have kids for so long? Because we wanted to give them the kind of home life that we believe God has called us to provide. And until that time came, we were willing to wait.

© Sarah K. Asaftei, 2009 unless otherwise sourced. Use allowed by express written permission only.

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camp meeting...

Last week, we went to camp meeting. I love camp meeting.

To me, camp meeting means summer has begun. It means friends and relaxation and all the yummy food I don't let myself eat the rest of the year (you know, whole cans of big franks, and chips and picnicky things), and I don't have to cook it or clean it up! It means spiritual rejuvenation and inspiring speakers.

This year I've been so sick that I was a bit worried about surviving camp meeting. Marius, and all the other pastors, have to work long hard hours to keep the programs running for every age group. So no great support from there.

And honestly, I've been quite depressed the last few months. The nausea, the impending loss of my job, the shrinking horizon of ministry, the financial worries - have all combined to put me in a frame of mind that just doesn't want to get out of bed. I haven't wanted to eat (but an empty stomach increases the nausea x10, so I haven't had much choice). I haven't wanted to go outside, or pick up the clutter, or get any exercise. Just bury my head in my computer and try to forget that the world is spinning without me being out there involved in the process.

Camp meeting was good for me. Whenever I wasn't working I hung out with friends, sat in rocking chairs and breathed the fresh air, walked everywhere, and just soaked up the fellowship. I'm grateful for the friends and companionship that I so seldom get any other time.

Back at home now I feel stronger, happier, more energetic. Less depressed and frizzed out. And of course, having the ultrasound helped too. Seeing our little baby boy makes it feel like there's something more than stomach flu behind it all!

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the globe and the ant

The other day I received an unexpected phone call from an old friend. We hadn't spoken in several years. During the conversation, she asked me how things are going with my job and its future - considering the fact that I'm pregnant.

First of all, you have to understand what I do. And that although it's never paid a living wage, I've put my heart and soul into it passionately. My work has revolved around training pastors and church members in ways to reach people around them in today's society, and creating relevant resources for that outreach focus. It takes me on international and domestic trips about 3 months out of the year, and keeps me constantly interacting with people around the globe. When I announced that I was pregnant, a few things changed. Now that I'm on project-basis, and even that is ending when the summer's over, I've been feeling rather strangled.

So the question of, "How's it feeling?" left me scrambling for an answer that didn't sound too self-pitying, and yet accurately reflected the situation.

"You know those National Geographic videos, where they start by showing you planet Earth hanging in space like a fluorescent blue and green ball, and then they slowly start zooming in until you're looking at a tiny garden ant crawling on a single blade of grass? Yeah, that's me right now. That's how I feel."

It's like my sphere of influence is being squeezed from the whole globe down to a blade of grass. And fast. Like the air-being-sucked-out-of-your-lungs fast.

I'm not whining. Just putting a word picture to how I feel. I'm sure I'll get over it.

But I think it may take some time.

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conversations, part 2...

The conversation that wandered... also touched on finding a sense of being at ease within ourselves on this side of teenage angst.

When I watched my (almost 6 years younger) sister going through her teen years, I always felt that she was so much more comfortable in her own skin than I had been at the same age. Now I realize that we just reacted differently to the same pressures.

Under pressure to conform, she came across as rejecting all peer norms. In my eyes, that made her instantly "cool". I had always reacted to pressure the opposite way, by trying harder to fit in. But while both of us projected confidence to outside eyes, we both felt the same awkward jello-belly inside.

"What do you think gave you the sense of adult confidence that you have right now?" mom asked us.

"Finding our place in life through advanced education, and being loved by the outstanding men who are our husbands," we agreed wholeheartedly.

It's true, education brings confidence. Knowing that you are pursuing a career and ministering to others using your God-given gifts is a wonderfully settling feeling.

But being loved by a good man? That really tops it all. There's a sense of security and poise and centering in oneself that comes to a woman only by knowing she is loved in her marriage. That of all the women in the world, this man chose HER to grow old beside him.

The life journey of facing seemingly-insurmountable obstacles, going to God for wisdom, conquering side by side, and coming out still partners on the other end - brings a sense of dignity and stability and inner peace that fills up my woman's soul.

Especially as I look to the future of adding a child in our family, I get all mushy inside thinking about the journey I've experienced in the past 15 years. I could have had the exact same education and career, but without having Marius in my life I wouldn't have been the same woman.

Thanks God, for saying "No, sweetheart," to my teenage prayers over each different boy!

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conversations, part 1...

After a restful Sabbath afternoon at my parent's house (go ahead and read that to mean "after sleeping for 3 hours straight"), we all gravitated toward the living room and just hung out.

Somehow, we started talking about the five love languages (see Gary Chapman's book/website here), childhood memories, and the general process of growing up.

The conversation wandered from wishing we had better understood the concept of love languages as kids, to finding a sense of being at ease within ourselves on this side of teenage angst. As kids, my love language was distinctly and dominantly Quality Time. My sis expressed affection dually through Acts of Service and through Gift-giving. Mom shared the languages of Physical Touch and Quality Time.

That means that my sister spent countless hours drawing cards to give away, making/baking/cooking things for people, and running to fetch anything you asked. As a big sister, I have to admit I shamelessly exploited her eagerness to fetch - I never thought of it as her love language, just as the amazing perk of having a baby sister sitting around to do my bidding.

Me? I just wanted to sit and talk with people. Quality Time, baby, that's what it was all about. And mom? She wanted to hug. It meant we got a lot of affection whether we wanted it or not! (No, really, it was good for us...) But since mom and I shared the desire for Quality Time, we also spent hours together talking. And I never could understand why my sister didn't want to join us.

Mom often told me, "Your sister is very different than you, and you have to accept that you're not the same." But I wish I'd been able to know how we were different. I think we could have had a much stronger and closer relationship if we'd been able to speak each other's languages.

So with the impending generation, I'm hoping that we can teach our children not only to begin to understand themselves, but also to acknowledge and speak each other's love languages fluently.

It's a nice thought, anyway.

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on making assumptions...

I've had lots of friends with difficult pregnancies. Somehow it never crossed my mind that I might join their club sometime in the distant future. I was always the healthy one in the family, rarely sick and never for more than a day or two.

I just took it for granted that I'd be one of those chicks who breezes through pregnancy while still going to the gym 5 days a week and doing "life as usual".

HAH.

So, if I believed in fate (or karma) you can guess what my next words might be. Since I don't believe in those things, I guess I'm just concluding that there's some very big lesson in compassion for those who don't feel as good as I do, or who's limitations are narrower than mine.

Some of you are chuckling right now. Go ahead. What can I say?

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basking in the un-glow...

They say pregnancy brings a glow. They say you get beautiful skin and thicker, more luxurious hair...

Yeah, I'd like to know who "they" are.

And where exactly are "they" getting their information?

Me? I've got no glow. Instead, I have acne. And hair so greasy that 10 hours after washing you'd think I'd bathed in an oil slick.

Oh yes, and an eczema-like patch of red flakies under my nose that drifts down over my upper lip. And no matter how much Neosporin/Hydrocortisone/Polysporin I rub on it - it ain't goin' away.

Talk about fun in buckets and spades. When you've just thinned out 2/3 of your wardrobe - staring at your almost-thirty-year-old yet eerily teenage-acne-face in the mirror just doesn't do much for the whole self-esteem and body image.

So I decided to go get my nails done today. I mean, a nice plain French manicure - at least when I go to church tomorrow I can look at my hands and think, "Thank goodness there's one part of me that doesn't look like something the cat dragged in!"

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the ASAFTEI family vision

MISSION STATEMENT
"Faithfully representing God through edification and excellence in mind, body and spirit."



VISION STATEMENT
"You're an Asaftei - Stand Firm and Take Action."



FAMILY VALUES
A-uthenticity
S-erving
A-cting
F-aith
T-emperance
E-xcellence
I-ntegrity

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