Culbert Report

At the time, it tasted like the perfect combination of spicy salsa over scrambled eggs, just the way I liked it. But now, I can see, it's not only enduring 8 ruckus cousins piled on the floor for the summer,  but making their favorite breakfasts for them each day. At the time, it was glimmer of the holiday decorations around the house;  the lantern and lights were always bright, inviting, always welcoming to me. But now, it's a man who fought for the right to celebrate holidays in this country  whatever way we please, and embraces that right. At the time, it was the delight of finding the extra few treats on  Halloween that appeared in my pumpkin and seeing the hand which slipped them in. But now, it's a man who is generous and kind to his children's children. At the time, it was the joy of walking from Holly Hills to have candy with Grandpa after school instead of going home to carrots and apples. But now, it's a man wh...

Since arriving back in Moscow with 3 little ones in tow, I've been struggling to find a good rhythm for our family.  I often feel as though I have somehow, between child 2 and 3, lost any sense of margin.  It's difficult to explain, but this one new child, despite the fact that she's the easiest baby we've had, feels as though any kind of space or time to catch up, to cover up, or clean up has suddenly vanished.  Walking home late the other night from a women's day party with our Russian friends and coworkers, I glanced at the time and cringed. I estimated about four hours of sleep that night between feedings for Evie and Peter's joyous, but early, wake up call. The 3rd night in a row. That sleep is gone for good. There is no space to sleep in for another two weeks or so, going to bed early depends mostly on Evie and her evening routine. For perhaps the first time in my mothering life, I have lost control over the basics I didn't realize I had until no...

She's here! She's beautiful! And we couldn't be more overjoyed. Evangelina Hope made her way speedily into the world at 3pm on December 4th. She weighed 7lb 12oz and measured 20". Evangelina comes from the Greek εὐαγγέλιον (euaggelion) which literally translates to "good news," where we get our word "gospel." Evangelina means "bearer of good news." During this season of Advent, we're daily reminded of the hope we have in Christ's first appearance as a child. Jessica Snell said it well: "In the first coming, when He became human and walked among us and redeemed us, He made us right. And when He comes again, He will make everything right." This is good news indeed! Evangelina Hope, in her Advent birth, reminds us of Christ's beginning and also of His end purpose. As Evangelina Hope is a rather large name for such a small person, she also goes by Evie or Eva for Russian speakers. Welcome ...

Did you know that young people planning to begin their first year of college this year were born in 1994? 1994? I was a freshman in high school in 1994.  I actually wore the styles that students throw "decades parties" these days to mock.  I listened to music defined as "early rap."  I watched TV shows currently on syndication on Nick at Night. I was young in 1994.  So what does that make me now? Working with students these past 5 years, Dan and I have both recently begun to feel our age fairly acutely. Never before has the age gap seemed more apparent than when our adventurous young group of American summer project students invited us to midnight cycling around the city and all we could think about was Anna and Peter’s early morning wake-up music. How did we so quickly become those people? You know the type… those old, boring people, who get up everyday at 6:30 and go to bed around 9, who read books for fun, who don’t know what’s playing at the mo...

Anna loves books. It's one of the most common requests in our home, "should we read a book?" And it's a request that can't often be denied. She, like most 2 year olds, loves repetition as well.   She could read the same book over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. And sadly for Mom and Dad, we don't find "The Little Engine That Could" quite as stimulating as she does. However, I recently read that repetition for 2 year olds significantly aids development and provides essential stepping stones for learning to read independently. It's interesting, since reading that, I have renewed motivation to read and re-read like never before.  Simply knowing that repetition is accomplishing a specific and beneficial purpose has made it tolerable:  "Yes, Anna, I think I can read it again." Reminding myself of the purpose helps to do the hard things, the boring things, the small, seemingly inconsequential ...

It's hard to believe, but this little guy is one year old! I hope that when I look back and remember the childhood of my little boy, I'll call to mind... his shock of red hair and toothy grin, his tone of voice in communicating any and every thing, why talk when you can yell? his aggressive style of cuddling (if someone's not crying after a snuggle, then it hasn't been done correctly.) his "no, no, no" head shake, immediately followed by yes, yes, yes doing the very thing you know wasn't to be done. all of the crazy nicknames ! Anna's best friend and partner in crime, the needed and treasured addition to our family. Peter's favorite activities right now include:  tinkering with his train, doing laundry (specifically his bath letters,) pulling himself up on everything, taking things out of boxes, pulling things off shelves, unfolding clean clothes (aka making a mess whenever possible,) bathing, and sc...

She just didn't seem like the kind of person who could die. Love her or hate her, if she was in the room, you knew about it.  She did not hold back.  She was strong-minded.  She was strong-willed.  She was strong. She taught us that the loudest voice in the room does get heard, and that it's worth speaking up for what you believe in. But she could make you laugh; she could put you at ease; she could melt a room with the sound of her laugh.  She asked questions.  She gave advice.  She cared. It was "the summer of Crystal Pepsi," according to my brother.  And the summer of, "Joel, you could marry your cousin, you're not blood related."  It was the summer of, "I only have one rule:  no rough-housing."  It was just one of many summers that we spent as family: cousins sleeping out on the trampoline in sleeping bags, pigs named Louise, J-dip gone bad, late night kick-the-can, "NOT!", hot tub bubbles, "The White Cruise...