They're just things. {The end of decluttering}

With our inter-continental move coming up in two weeks (what?!) we finally had our big Flohmarkt (yard sale) on the weekend. We had an amazing group of friends help us out with setting up and keeping me sane while my husband had fun haggling over prices with neighbours and strangers. (Who has fun doing that? An introvert's hell. I cracked under the pressure of the two older ladies who arrived early while my husband was on a coffee run.) Two of my dear sisters-in-law came down for the weekend and gave the kids the time of their lives, caring for them so well, taking them out swimming all day and singing them a harmonized lullaby.

As we are only moving across the pond with 4 suitcases and shipping a few boxes, we have sold most of our furniture and belongings over the past few months. On Saturday, several people asked me if I felt sad seeing our stuff walking off in the hands of others.

I said, "No. It's a relief."

Partly because no appliances could be brought along, needing an adapter and a transformer, plus the cost of shipping made that an easy decision. Partly because much of it was stuff we no longer used, books we had no time to re-read, ill-fitting clothes, furniture we can't bring on a plane and is not worth its weight to ship. Our tastes have changed and we look forward to decorating a new home slowly, hopefully choosing very carefully and hunting for good deals rather than taking everything we were offered for free (as we did as newlyweds) or buying whatever was cheapest (as we did as newlywed students). What we had been planning and preparing for for months was finally reality, and it is good to see progress.

I've been writing a lot around here (and here and here and here) about decluttering over the past few months. I've found it freeing. I've found it shocking (to see how much we really have accumulated that we don't often use or like). So many times when we've sold something my husband and I both agree "wow, it looks better now without that." Our almost-4-year-old son has dealt remarkably well with seeing things go, taking it in stride when we reassure him that his favourite toys will come along, and explaining that that lamp doesn't fit on the plane.

I did have a bout of sadness six months ago about leaving behind our couch, the one piece of furniture we longed for through years and carefully picked out only 2.5 years ago. I love it, it's comfortable, and it would've lasted til our children brought their boy/girlfriends home to meet us (how long my mom always told us our couches had to last when we were jumping on them). And we are taking some things with us -- I would be sad if our suitcases of current clothing and favourite books didn't arrive, quite at a loss if my boxes full of PhD research got lost, and utterly devastated if something happened to my children's baby books. There's nothing wrong with having a comfortable, inviting home where people feel welcomed, we hope to set up one of those in Montreal when we arrive. There's nothing wrong with enjoying the things we love and find beautiful and useful.

But the main reason I didn't feel sad when selling much of what we've owned is that they're just things. They are. Just stuff.

So many people have lost everything in fires, tornadoes, floods, war. Suddenly. They didn't have a year to carefully pare down their excess baggage like I've had. They didn't get to choose the best and most beloved toys for their children to keep to give them a sense of familiarity when all else around them changes.

Best friends.

What does make me tear up over these last few weeks is imagining how to help my son say goodbye to his best friend. I cry about leaving behind the beloved friend who is so kind to my children, that there will be no one in our new city who has known them from birth. That there will be German family parties and celebrations where our places will be missing. People matter. Eternal things matter.

I hope I'll never set my heart or hopes on my furniture, my technology, my trinkets, my status symbols, whether they be clothes that flatter or books that reflect my interests or decorative items that show I'm hip. I hope I can enjoy the gifts God gives, create a home that welcomes and offers comfort, but keep my heart truly at home in heaven, in eternal things. I hope I will be willing to give things I have to people who need them, without a wince. I hope I'll always trust the One who has provided thus far to provide again. I hope I'll always be willing to sell all I have to follow Him.

My Best Books for Kids: Life Changes

We love books at our house.

Our 22 month old can page through books on her own for upwards of half an hour. Of course we read several books every night before bed, but also in the morning before Kindergarten, in the afternoon, any time they ask really, I try to fit it in. When my son misbehaves I remind him that if he continues, he will lose a story before bed (a fate worse than death!) I am so thankful I was raised on books, my mom sitting on the yellow leopard-sot carpeting of our stairs, reading out loud to all three girls tucked in their beds in adjacent rooms. We all know reading helps kids to speak, read, and write better, to concentrate, to develop their imaginations, expand their vocabularies, and have quality time with parents. Is there anything better than having your kids snuggle up to you to dive into a book?!

We also use books to talk through life changes.

When our second child was born two years ago, I got two great books I'd recommend for introducing a new sibling to the family.



"My New Baby" by Rachel Fuller is our favourite -- our kids still love to look at it. The pages are large, very durable board, with vibrant images our kids love. I love it that these books focus on the positives of having a new sibling, and the practical realities of life with them. I would never read a book demonstrating bad behaviours towards the baby (which is common in books on this topic) unless my child was already displaying them. I certainly didn't want to put negative ideas into his head which he did not already have!

From the New Baby series we also got a book about everyday life with a sibling, "Look at Me"



Again our kids LOVE this book. They always point to the younger/older sibling doing certain activities and say their own names, identifying with these real-life situations.

Our favourite book for toilet learning is Dr. Sears' You can go to the potty


It has great, practical images, our kids love it, and includes extra advice and tips for parents for gentle potty learning. If you cloth diaper, breastfeed, and co-sleep like we do, you'll enjoy seeing those images of daily life reflected in the pages.

And for our big move across the pond in 2 weeks, I just remembered to look for some books to help our kids process their emotions about it. In the all the sorting, selling, and packing, we have drastically reduced their book collection, so they could really use a new read anyway (borrowing from the library and remembering to take them back on time is just too big of a hassle in our final month here). I can't believe I didn't think to do this sooner! I guess because I have been so focused on decluttering and minimizing our possessions to fit in 4 suitcases and a few boxes for the past 6 months. I am really looking forward for two books from this list to arrive soon.

In this season which brings so much change to us all, I want to intentionally help our kids process their emotions about leaving friends, language, house, routines -- all that is familiar. Not repressing or ignoring the sadness and loss, but holding fast together, getting through it til we flourish on the other side.

More Things I'll Miss about Germany

I started a little list of the whimsical things I'll miss about my adopted homeland (or should I say married homeland?) when we move to Canada this summer. These things begged to be added:

9. Tax included

Every time I have visited my family in Canada over the past decade I've had that moment, in a store or restaurant of, oh, yeah. This was more expensive than it says on the price tag. Ever since OAC calculus at the end of high school, I don't really *do* math. We all have our strengths. I say that's what fingers are there for. Seriously, the EU's inclusion of sales tax in the advertised price is one of the best things about everyday life in Europe. Picturesque architecture and biking everywhere is great, but tax included is right up there.

10. World Cup mania

Now I know Montreal and Toronto are great cities to experience the World Cup in, home to people from every nation overflowing from pubs onto sidewalks cheering for their country of origin. But there is something I love about the three World Cups I have experienced while living in Germany. The entire country united, cheering for "our eleven." Women, men, children, and grandparents discussing the finer points of soccer, saying "we're playing on Friday", taking ownership of the team. The doctor and her team of assistants greet me professionally, each one sporting a soccer jersey of various teams. (Do fights out in the break room?) Angela Merkel is much beloved for flying to the games in Brazil right now, sparing no expense to root on our team in person. "Public viewing" on big screens in every bar and beer garden, faces painted and jersey's donned, it is good fun to spend summer evenings outside in a friendly crowd.

Even if watching in our quiet village, walking the baby home to bed before the end of the game I know the score by the shouts rising from homes around the neighbourhood. The streets are totally empty during a game, you could hear a pin drop between goals as German nation is glued to the television.

11. Excellent health care

... with little waiting. We have a GP, pediatrician, gynecologist, midwife and other specialists for our family when needed. All take time for us, have a friendly/personal relationship to our family (our pediatrician even came to our house for a home visit 5 days after our home birth for a routine check-up, so I didn't have to go to his office). We do pay more for our health insurance monthly than Canadians do, but I think many there would love the availability of doctors, quick, excellent, and personal care we get in Germany.

12. Kinderbasare

I've gushed about these highly organized, parent-to-parent sales before. We got most of our kids clothes, books, and toys in good quality, second-hand, for only a few Euros. Deal-hunting is the mama's high.

13. The Autobahn

Though I am not big on driving or spending time in the car, by now even I appreciate the freedom of driving the speed you want to get where you need to go. Quick and efficient, those Germans. And German drivers who fastidiously all obey the rules, stay in the right lane and only pass on the left.

14. Wine & cheese for under 5 €

When we visit Canada, the prices of both wine and dairy products take our breath away. In the sick-to-your-stomach kind of way. We've enjoyed the great variety of nice, inexpensive wines and cheeses for a decade and will have to re-orient our diets once back across the pond. Not that we live off the stuff, but I am sure the quantity and variety of cheeses will reduce (not necessarily bad for my waistline).

15. Social expectations/norms

I actually will miss certain ones, I think. There are some unwritten rules (actually, I think they are written somewhere...Knigge?) about how one is to behave, shaking of hands (even with children), greetings, holding of knife and fork, waiting for one another to sit, wishing each other Guten Appetit before eating... This was a steep learning curve for a Canadian farm girl, but these social norms I love. North Americans kind of pride themselves on a mentality of every one do what you want as long as you don't hurt anyone else. I love that table manners, which are in some places a lost art, are still widely taught and expected of all. Sometimes it just helps to know what is expected.
I will not miss being scolded on the street by strangers if I jaywalk on a red light (I mostly broke this habit but did it absentmindedly the other day, with my 3 year old son holding me by the hand. Oh, The Look and frown that old lady gave me!)


I could go on and on about bike paths, the efficient train and bus networks that are rarely not on time. Minimalist design. Cobblestone streets in the old city. Der Grüner Punkt. Cheap cell phone plans. Modern, funky, well-maintained playgrounds with huge wooden pirate ships or giant cat tales for my son to climb on. The accessibility of vacationing in the south of France or Italy for average families.
But of course, what we'll miss most are the people. Germans are famous for not making friends quickly, and taking a longer time than most to use the word "friend" to describe someone they work with, or spend time with in any regular intervals. I've heard it said that once a German calls you friend, they're your friend for life.

May it be so.

The last great human adventure

"To leave one's country to go
and live in another country
in inferior conditions,
that is, without a safety net
and without recourse of return
to one's native land,
this seems to me to be last great human adventure."
Dany Laferrière, A Drifting Year

I write from a place of privilege.

Moving from one rich country to another, with education, passports, and family on both sides of the Atlantic makes our family a blessed and privileged kind of immigrant family. I don't know the want, terror, fears of millions of immigrants around the globe who get to a new country with no connections, no money, perhaps no education or no way to have their training acknowledged in the new land.

But still.

These past two days, as we have ticked off a few more big milestones and head into the last busy stretch of moving-packing-sorting, I feel the no safety net feelings.

I came this way a decade ago. And it was hard.

I return to my native land x 4. Blessed. No longer one, but "many."
I've got old friends and contacts in our new city, family an 8-10 hour drive away.

But still. In many ways, Canada is new to me again.

It is definitely new to my husband and children, and though we are excited, there are moments of hesitation, too. We have again tasted His faithfulness these past two months, we have a job and scholarship and provision that could be called miraculous. Thankful. Thankful. Thankful.

But still.

New everything awaits.

The night before I leave on any kind of trip, I never want to go. It goes back to the night before my much beloved one week of summer camp, which I'd saved for and looked forward to all year. I threw up in the bathroom and told my mom I didn't want to go.

I love traveling, I love the new, I get bored easily.

But still.

Something in us longs for comfort, the known, to be known.

As we sort through belongings with our 3 year old, we talk about what to take, what is important to us. Despite my desire to de-clutter, I value the important memories, the best toys, a few security objects. Journals, photo albums, a few beloved books. There is something very unnerving about giving away all of the furniture you have slowly cobbled together to make a household since you showed up with a suitcase a decade ago. Since we were both students in a 60 square meter, 1 bedroom apartment.

They are just things.
We are blessed to be able to bring a few things, but we hold tighter to each other.
And we won't pretend it isn't hard.
We'll probably shed tears, and hold friends close, and part of us will wish we could stay.
We'll let ourselves mourn this season, even as we rejoice in the next.

the last great human adventure.

Feeling lighter all the time {Decluttering, Part 4}

As I head into sorting my bookshelves and binders full of class notes, reducing more stuff, I am thinking about what I really need to keep. I came across this blog about reducing your stuff as the path to pursuing what you really want to do in life. The author brings up a point I hadn't thought about lately -- why it is we gather so much stuff in the first place.

We buy new things all the time with the promise it will free us up. We’ll feel better about ourselves and our lives. We’ll have more fun, be less insecure, have more friends, and just generally be happier. And truth be told, stuff does tend to mask my insecurity and unhappiness for awhile.
But then, when the buzz fades, I’m more insecure and unhappy than I was before I had the stuff.

It might seem obvious to you, but I hadn't really thought about it so bluntly: we buy stuff to make us happy. Or perhaps, I never realized this was not just something "other people" did, it also applied to me. I have not done any actual research into consumerism or hoarding or shopping, but reading Allison's words here resonated with me: 

I’ve had to confront my insecurity and tendency to compare myself with others by healing it rather than masking it with new furniture or clothes.

I remember buying a new dress for an event a couple of years ago (with a red theme, mind you. Not my choice as I had nothing red, not even an accessory). Even though I had no plans of doing so, at the last minute I ordered a red dress, simply because I heard a few other girlfriends were doing it. Looking back at our financial state at the time, I should not have been buying any new clothes. I knew better. But I let the subconscious comparison with others, or insecurity about what I would wear, motivate a choice.

When thoughts of this intercontinental shift began to get serious last spring, our monthly "house and garden" budget line in our zero-based budget went down to zero. And it felt good.

It felt so good to escape from the rat race of keeping up with what our friends have. We say we don't compare ourselves to others, but truly? When you see their nice dining table and chairs, its hard not to want to replace the hand-me-down one that's been known to fall apart at times over the past 8 years. When someone the same age or at the same stage of life as me [or, horrors, younger or less educated than me] has a nicer home or nicer things, some subconscious thought made me feel "I should have that, too."

We quit that race two years ago and I regularly fight against that deep inner sense of entitlement that wants to push me back on the hamster wheel. I love the freedom of being off the wheel, trying to live with less, on less, to be able to do more and bless more. I have tasted the freedom of encouraging others instead of being jealous or tearing them down, the freedom and peace that comes from contentment rather than comparison.

This past year we have not invested anything into our home, furniture etc. because we knew we would be moving. (Actually I did buy cute napkins a few times. Truth.) It has freed up money but also our thoughts. No longer scheming about what to buy next, how long to save up for something, or keeping a list of things we want.

We've sold things online. We've given stuff away to friends, we've traded babysitting for books and furniture with some uni students we know well (win-win-win!).  I am feeling lighter all the time.
Like pretty soon I could walk on water.

Brave girls run in our family.

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This post is part of a little series on stuff and decluttering. See links to posts one, two and three.

Where April went

I haven't posted in awhile...where did April go? Handed in a chapter of my dissertation. Two weeks of Easter holidays, with school and Kindergarten closed, being sick, marking papers, a few fun outings with the kids. Walks and picking flowers. Reading books. Then a quick trip to London at the beginning of May, handing in my 2 year PhD report and end-of-current-scholarship report last week.

April was a month of checking the mailbox everyday, waiting for the promised letter from a scholarly agency. They claimed it would be sent in April, and these official-types are usually true to their word. The letter saying I had made it into the final round came via real mail, so I knew this one would too. A job I had applied to in Montreal, along with a colloquium, had also said they would get back to me in April. So every day was full of eager email checking, wondering if the pieces for our big move would start to fall into place.

Nothing.



Some days it was frustrating. Why do people name deadlines and not meet them? I vented repeatedly, if only they hadn't said April, I wouldn't have been expecting anything.

I worked on my patience. Trust. Letting go. Just doing the next thing. Remembering it is not all about me.

May rolled around. I gave the Official Scholarly People a week of grace, knowing that real mail could add an extra week. True enough a week into May, a friend happened to call while I was working in our third floor office. I meandered to the ground floor while on the phone with her. I happened to see our mail woman going down our back lane through the living room windows. I know when she comes, I know her routine. I was standing in the kitchen, still on the phone, and watched her approach my front door with one piece of mail in her hand.

The recognizable brown envelope.

After about two more minutes I made a lame excuse about needing to get back to work, and hung up with my friend. I ran to the mailbox. Glee and screeching ensued. Six months after I applied, finally an answer.  And an exceedingly, abundantly above-and-beyond kind of answer at that!

We've been finally gone ahead with booking flights, one-way, on a cheapo airline that makes you pay extra for food, booking seats together, and does not offer personal in-flight screens (all the fun of flying we usually enjoy). But they are the only ones who offer one-way tickets for half the cost of return, and for a family of four (with one baby squeezing in under the 2 year old wire), it makes a difference.

So we'll pack meals and games and books and little presents for the kids and we'll make it through. And we'll start a new life in Canada.

We've got a furnished apartment booked for our first little while in Montreal. I did tons of research on this and the flights, playing out different scenarios. Wondering and second guessing and ... There are still uncertainties and question marks about how the whole packing up our lives here thing will play out, whether we will drive here or there when, who can come to help when. The scholarship I've received won't feed a family of four, but we know it will all come together. We've already experienced so much surprising provision we're looking forward to see what else will happen that we couldn't even have asked or thought.

But even in the midst of not having all our ducks in a row, it feels good to make some decisions. And stick to them. Declutter mental real estate, so to speak. Free up that mental space I'd had full of weighing the options and researching alternatives and move forward in trust.

Things I'm Looking Forward to in Montreal

To follow up on my list of things I'll miss about Germany, a few random things I am looking forward to about living in Canada after a decade away:

1. Free water
Publicly accessible, free drinking fountains? Yes, please. Water-bottle filling stations in a church? Uh huh. (I actually saw this at my brother's church in Windsor, Ontario). Everyone thinks Germans are so environmentally friendly, and they are in some ways, and perhaps the governments policies are on a large scale, but in my day-to-day interactions there are many ways people I know personally are much less environmentally conscious than in Quebec. I am a rare user of cloth diapers here. Most people buy bottled (usually carbonated) water rather than bring a bottle from home (although that bottle is, of course, recycled!) I saw today, for example, that Concordia University in Montreal bans the sale of bottled water on its campus. In any case I am always thrilled on my visits back to Canada to get free water in restaurants. Not even a nasty eye roll from the waiter!

2. Customer Service
Speaking of waiters. I look forward to customer service again. Note I didn't say good customer service, just any. At all. 
Slight exaggeration. But in most cases, really, no exaggeration. Hey, I'm used to it. My skin got thicker. I was brought to tears several times in my first year in Germany by a rude lady in the pharmacy or a bus driver who screamed at me in front of a busload of people cause I broke a rule I didn't know about. It's often like I am annoying people by coming into their shop. And if I ask them a question, I mean, what was I thinking? 

3. Québec French
Since I was a little girl, hearing and speaking French has always just made me happy. On the very rare occasion I when I still come across a Québec accent you can't wipe the grin off my goofy face.

4. Reverse Culture Shock
I don't know if I am really looking forward to this, but I am curious about it. Germany has really become home to me, but as the months toward our move get fewer (4!) I am really starting to be excited about living in Canada again. I wonder what I will find difficult? What will be shocking? I am eager for my husband to live abroad for the first time in his life. I think he'll get to know me in a whole new way as we reconnect with my culture/s and language/s.

5. Exploring the City
At random times over the past decade I have had the urge to just move away and explore a big city with my husband (and kids. Don't worry, we're bringing them too). Museums, theater, parks, restaurants, cafés...I am thrilled about the variety of new things we'll be able to discover together in Montreal. I get bored easily and as much as I adore Konstanz, the local archaeology museum doesn't do it for me.

6. Multicultural Food
We live in a small city in Germany, quite rural actually. Although it is amazing that many of my son's 3 year old friends are bilingual and we have many international friends here, the choices in multicultural restaurants and multiethnic groceries is very pale in comparison to having lived in Toronto. Very pale.

Pic from Top 10 Foods to Eat in Quebec

7. Poutine
And speaking of food. Real poutine, Québec's most famous dish. (I not-so-secretly prefer poutine italienne, the one from the little diner in St-Joseph-de-la-Rive by the ferry line-up to Isle aux Coudres).


8. Tire à l'érable
Hot maple syrup on snow, for the non-initiated. Stick a popsicle stick in it, wrap it up and enjoy. Best. Winter. Food.
I grew up on a farm where I helped my parents make maple syrup in our woods every winter, so I was born with a tire à l'érable in my mouth, you could say. No fake stuff shall ever pass my lips. Taking my husband and kids to a Quebec sugar shack next spring for some beans and pig fat covered in syrup is already planned in.

Note goofy smile. Someone must have just said something.

He loved it. Bound to be a Québécois.

9. Mountain Equipment Co-op
Old habits die hard. I worked in the Quebec City store when it first opened and also a stint in Toronto and I am still local to the brand. And it doesn't hurt that the quality and prices cannot be beaten by European outdoor gear. I still have (and use) some things I bought there in 2001, when I first got my membership card as a doe-eyed undergrad in the big city. I don't spend as much time living in tents as I used to, but just going to their store (or, gazing at their pretty things online) makes me feel fitter. Healthier. Outdoorsier.

10. Winter
Like, the kind with snow. (Ask me again in a year how this is going.)