Airstream Dreams: Part II

The Airstream is home.  We think we're going to call her "The Silver TARDIS," but that's still up for debate.  I love catching a glimpse of her out the kitchen window and remembering how we found her and made her ours.

As we've gone through all of our plans and dreams the past few years, one of the people we've talked with a lot has been Trevvor's mom, who is beginning her own adventure now too.*  We were all in this unsettled place, knowing we needed to do something different but not sure what that something looked like.  During our "whirlwind trip to everywhere" at the end of May, we had the chance to talk through these ideas again in person.  "Well you know," she said, "I'm going to need a place to live when I come back to the States in a few years."  That changed everything, because now we were looking at Airstreams as co-owners with her: Trevvor, Charles and I living it in now, and Leslee living in it later on.

One evening early in the last week of the trip, Leslee and I were looking at AirstreamClassifieds.com, just casually, you know, to see what was out there.  I had pulled up all the Airstreams that were in the states we'd be traveling home through (there aren't many Airstreams in Alabama).
One ad really jumped out:  It was 31 ft, perfect for full-time living; a 1975 model (our favorite decade of Airstreams); a center bath, which meant we wouldn't have to walk through Charles' room to use the bathroom at night and also avoided the problem of the heavy rear-bath separating from the frame; they had installed a composting toilet like we wanted, opening up our parking options since we won't need a black-water connection; the floors had been redone with a lovely pine board, exactly what we wanted; there was already a large fridge for all the produce we buy; and all the built-in furniture had been removed, so now we could include exactly and only what we needed.  AND it was only 20 minutes off our route through Virginia.  AND it was under $10,000 (a very reasonable price for such a find). Ummm, yes please!

So we emailed the owners and arranged to see her on Friday as we traveled south.  Our last few days were very full--both packing up Leslee for her big trip and preparing ourselves for a possible very big purchase.  They sent us the link to their blog they'd used while they renovated it the previous year, and it was really neat finding so many similarities between them and us and so many parallels in our journeys.

When we arrived at their farm Friday afternoon, I was trying not to be too excited.  We explored the Airstream thoroughly.  We discussed its purchase rationally.  And then, we told her we'd take it.  On the condition that we could find a way to haul it down.

So we put the word out on Facebook.  By the next day, we had a two different trucks we could borrow.  (Our friends are so generous!  Seriously.)  Our plan was to make the trip back to Virginia two weeks later to bring her home.

But that's a whole 'nother chapter.

*Leslee is moving to Australia, ultimately to teach, and has sold her house, her car, and her possessions (less a very small storage unit) for an undetermined period of time.  Helping her give away and pack up and throw out all her stuff during our trip really got us excited about doing the same thing at our house.

Airstream Dreams: Part I

It started with heavy doses of reading Little House on the Prairie and The Boxcar Children in elementary school.  I remember thinking how incredible Ma Ingalls was, keeping a such a small, basic home so well and cheerfully.  How creative oldest sister Jessie was in transforming an abandoned boxcar into a comfortable escape for her and her siblings.

All children love small spaces.  We all loved making blanket forts, sitting under tables, cozying up in a closet, setting up in play-houses, sleeping in lofts or tents.  (Well, at least I did.  But maybe I was just as weird then as I am now.)  My reading about families making homes of small spaces just encouraged this enjoyment.

As I grew up, my expectations of comfort changed from closets to over-sized houses.  When Trevvor and I got married and I saw our apartment for the first time, I cried.  How could I set up house in only 450 square feet??  But I did, and when we moved out, I cried again.

After several more moves and a house-purchase later, we were all set up in our current home: a three-bed, two-bath, modest 1200 square foot split-level in a 1970s Birmingham suburb.  It was a good "starter-home," I figured, and that summer we settled in for a least five or ten years.

But after a few months, the moving itch started.  The maintenance and constant grass-mowing was getting tiresome.  We hadn't known how great we had it when we were living smaller!

About that time, we discovered the Tiny House Movement, as it's known.  Here were people choosing to live in less than 200 square feet!  Every inch of these homes was filled with both beauty and purpose.  "Wow," we said.  "That's what we want."  The THM was like a gateway, and one of the worlds it opened up was that of the shiny Airstream.  Simplicity and flexibility.  Way too cool.

But we'd just bought this house, and we wanted to start a family, so we kept chugging away at the American Dream, accepting the status quo, albeit in a rather grumbly way.  We didn't want to be discontent, so we tried to bloom where we were planted, yet every few months, some new hippie scheme would surface, only to be covered up again by the reality of those devilish details.

That was nearly three years ago.

When Charles was born last January, we said, "We're staying put!  We have the baby to think of!"  We also had four cats and a dog.  We would never fit in a tiny house of any kind, especially since we wanted more kids!

But once we settled into life with a baby (sometime around his six month birthday), the itch started itching again.  "We could do this with a baby," we thought, looking around at all of the space and stuff in our house we barely used and thinking of all the time and money we spent keeping up a house and yard we didn't even want.

So we started looking into selling our house.  We listed lots of stuff for sale on Craigslist and eBay.  I spent probably untold hours looking at used Airstreams online and reading tiny-house/minimalism blogs.  Because by now, we'd narrowed our small-living dream down to Airstreams.

During the last nine months, this dream has come on and off, as those details would surface again and we would decide it was impossible.  As some of you know, our plans have changed quite a lot.  We looked at selling our house with a realtor, selling our house ourselves, renting our house ourselves.  Buying a smaller house, renting a smaller house, renting an apartment.  Staying in Birmingham, moving to Huntsville, moving to Georgia.

But the Airstream kept "shining through our murky plans," as it were.  For a while, we even thought we'd be out of our house and full-timing it by April 19.  Obviously that date came and went, and still no firm timeline of what we wanted to do and when.  We just knew why.

And last week, the "why," apparently, proved to be enough.

...TBC :)

Our Love Story, as told four years ago, in honor of our sixth anniversary

Today is our sixth wedding anniversary.  Seems a little crazy writing that.  It's neat because today is Saturday, just like the day we got married.  Six years ago at about this time I was leaving my parents' house for the church building, preparing to sit in a chair for several hours getting my hair curled!

Four years ago today, I wrote the following post on my old blog.  It's basically our love story up until our wedding.  I'd like to add to it, because so much has changed in the last four years, the biggest change being Charles' arrival into our family!  But for now, this will have to do.  :)

******

Two years ago today, Trevvor and I were joined together in front of witnesses as man and wife, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.

We had met almost two years before that, on June 7, 2006, at freshmen orientation for the University of Alabama.  He sat behind me and my future roomie in the first session with another guy (his future roomie also), and they thought we were pretty so they introduced themselves.

My future roomie and I... with Trevvor in the background.  

We hadn't even introduced ourselves yet!

Trevvor and I were in the same small-group for orientation since our last names both started with a "C."  We found out we'd both been home-schooled and that we were both Christians, and hung out for much of orientation together.  A few days later he befriended me on Facebook, and we kept up throughout the summer.

Trevvor, me, and his future roomie on the last day of orientation.

In August, we arrived on campus a week before classes started to participate in a service-learning project called Outdoor Action.  There were only about 20 students participating, and we quickly became part of the same little group of freshmen.  From the start I admired Trevvor's work-ethic and friendly nature (not to mention his handsome visage).

Chilling together early one morning during Outdoor Action.

The OA group stayed together during the first semester of college, and our numbers ebbed and flowed, but Trevvor and I constantly found ourselves together socially.  We mutually enjoyed each other's company, and soon realized that we had much in common that set us apart from the other students around us.  By the end of that first semester, we were beginning to pair off, and subsequently hear the following question almost daily:  "Are y'all dating yet?"

Fall Break 2006 Road Trip to my grandparents' house

He came home with me for Christmas Break as his flight for PA left from my home-town the following day.  It just so happened that this was the weekend all my family was there for our "Christmas weekend," and we discovered that Trevvor had something in common with five of my close relatives:  their names began with a "Tr-" (Troy, Truitt, Travis, & Tracy) and they shared the last name of "Clark"--my mother's maiden name was "Clark," you see.  I liked to read more into this than I probably should have, haha.
We wrote friendly letters during those weeks apart, and I picked him up from the airport at the end of the break.  He told me later that when he saw me waiting to greet him, he knew at that moment he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.

Soon after we started dating.

On February 11, 2007, after several serious discussions about our pasts, our present and our future, we entered into a committed relationship.  We knew that (as far as we knew) we were headed towards marriage, and if we realized after prayer and discussion that we were not "meant to be," then we would break things off.  Of course, that never happened.  :)

On his 19th birthday with the soccer Build-a-Bear I made him.  :)

We enjoyed several happy months around campus, loving each other more each day, before we had to go our separate ways for the summer.  I was able to visit him in PA over Memorial Day week, but after that it was three months apart.  On our last day together, he gave me a letter stating his desire to marry me "someday."  I was ecstatic, and all summer we talked about our lives together.

Holding baby bunnies during my PA visit in 2007.

I studied abroad in England during July and part of August, and he was with my family to pick me up when I landed state-side.  That night, he was baptized by my grandfather, surrounded by my mother's family.  The next evening, he asked my parents for permission to marry me "someday."  After much deliberating, they agreed, and the next morning he proposed.

The weekend after our engagement!

Our announcement of engagement wasn't met with happy faces all around:  at the time we were only 19, and our families had their [reasonable] doubts as to our preparedness for marriage.  We assured them that we would wait at least two years before tying the knot, but as the semester progressed, we realized that waiting was simply not necessary nor beneficial.  Our families began to see this too, so by December 2007 we were planning the wedding for the following May.

At a formal soon before our wedding!

It was a hectic semester that almost couldn't go fast enough as we made the reservations, bought the dress, and sent the invitations (not to mention taking classes).  We continued to talk about our future.  We talked about everything:  our opinions, expectations, desires, reservations, doubts... religion, children, finances, houses, cars, media, education, gender roles... everything.

Finally, the day arrived:  May 10, 2008.  It passed in a flurry of excitement and joy. Thanks to the planning and preparation of my dear mother, it was more beautiful than I'd ever imagined.  And at the end of the day, I was Mrs. Trevvor Clark.

I had a lot to learn about marriage and being a wife--and I still have most of it to learn two years later--but those first weeks were so sweet and lovely as we gracefully fumbled our way into married life, united before God and man.

And that's the first few chapters of our love story.  I'm amazed every day that each page just keeps getting better.

Happy 2014 from the Clarks!

Greetings, loved ones!

We hope this letter finds you well, content, and full of joy.  Our lives have certainly changed this year, and we’re sure many of yours have as well.  

Our big change has been for the better.  To our great joy, our son, Charles Sebastian, was born on January 18, 2013, at 3:26 in the morning.  He was 7 pounds, 15 ounces and 21 inches long.  It was a healthy, easy pregnancy followed by a natural, challenging, but ultimately wonderful, labor.  What a blur the past eleven months have been!  Charles is such an incredible baby and is fast becoming a little boy.  He sat up at five months, started crawling at seven, and the past couple months has been “pre-walking”--pulling up and cruising around furniture and walking while holding onto our hands.  “Mama” was his first word, and he’s working on “Papa” (but right now it sounds more like “baba”).  He loves playing peek-a-boo, sticking his tongue out, feeding himself, clapping, rolling a ball back and forth, giving high fives, waving bye-bye, and holding spoons (or pens or straws or any other easily graspable object) in each hand.  His favorite things to munch are avocado+banana and kale puffs.  Charles loves being worn on Mama or Papa in the sling, Ergo, or woven wrap--and we love keeping him close!

Trevvor is working at PricewaterhouseCoopers as a tax accountant in downtown Birmingham.  He accepted the position in February 2011 as an associate and last summer was promoted to senior!  In his (rare) spare time when he’s not working or being the most amazing husband and father ever, he has enjoyed trail running, coaching a community soccer team of nine-year-olds, and volunteering at a local coffeeshop.  Trevvor loves learning about coffee and has experimented quite a bit at home with different roasts and brewing methods.  Both of us, but especially Trevvor, love trying new local eateries and hang-outs around town, and there are plenty of good ones to try!  Since we bought our house in 2011, he has also spent a lot of time learning how to update it, and besides painting almost the entire interior, he has also learned to tile floors and install hardwood and trim (not to mention the normal plumbing and electrical projects that are part of home-ownership).  He’s done a fantastic job with everything!

Stephanie gets to stay at home with Master Charles just like she always dreamed of doing when she became a mommy.  Motherhood has been the most difficult and the most wonderful thing she has ever experienced.  She has enjoyed attending local mommy meet-ups with Charles like La Leche League, Babywearing International of Birmingham (aka: The Magic City Slingers), and a local cloth diapering group.  Stephanie loves learning about natural pregnancy, childbirth, parenting, and health.  She is constantly reading about nutrition and alternative health-care so she can better serve her family.  Just recently she has delved into the incredible world of Essential Oils and became a consultant so she can help other families be healthier too.  Stephanie is also a World Vision Child Ambassador and has organized several wonderful events to connect children in need with sponsors who care.  We have continued sponsoring children ourselves, and it is truly a blessing to see them growing and an honor to be part of their precious lives.

We want all of you to know we love you very much, and we hope 2014 brings an opportunity to see each one of you and share a bit of life together.

Love in Christ,

Trevvor, Stephanie, & Charles Clark

Not a day, but a lifestyle.

Thanksgiving, that is.  

I saw that on a church sign today:  "Thanksgiving is not a day; it's a lifestyle."

How true, I thought.  But then, Is that my lifestyle?  Do I live a life of thanksgiving?

If I have to be honest, I know the answer is generally "no."  I'm a selfish, whiny, lazy person, and recently I've realized even more that I take some of the most wonderful blessings for granted:  my serving husband, my loving child, my accepting family, my warm house, my loyal friends, my cuddly kitty, my nutritious food.  How often do I thank God for these things?  I more often find myself wishing something about one of them were different.  How often do I thank my family and friends for loving me?  I more often remind them of their faults.  How often to I show gratitude to my husband for providing a place to live and good food to eat?  I more often look at other houses online or ask to go out to eat.

I want to change that.  I want to live a live of gratitude and joy and contentment--I want to be those things for my children's sake, for my husband's.  Change my heart, Lord--make it more like Thine.

I hope all of you had a fabulous holiday; I know we did.  We spent the week at my childhood home with my family, and it was a wonderful balance of time in the house and out of it, cooking and eating, resting and activity, family and friends.  We had a gluten-free Thanksgiving dinner, which was really quite delicious.  Mom and Trevvor both got pretty creative to make some fun gluten-free pumpkin treats for us throughout the week.  Being there with them all week made me realize how valuable it is to be near family, especially with a little one.  Praise God for placing me in a family that loves each other and sticks together and wants to be around one another even when we don't have to be!

Charles' Three-Month Photo Shoot

Here are some of my favorites from Charles' three-month photo shoot, taken by our good friend Rachel Stricklin (http://rachelrstricklin.blogspot.com/).  Yeah, I know he's almost five-months old now.  :P  Better late than never!

Charles' Birth Story

His birth went exactly as planned.  And yet, it didn't.  In the end it was the same:  I was fine, Charles was fantastic, there had been no complications, no drugs, no interventions--a great example of "natural childbirth."  But though the birth went as planned on paper, the way I handled it was totally different than I'd hoped I would, nay-- arrogantly assumed I would.

On Wednesday morning (January 16, just four days before his due date), I woke up and realized I was losing my mucus plug.  There were these crampy pains in my lower abdomen that seemed to pull at my lower back--they were different than the squeezes I'd been experiencing for several weeks.  Coincidentally, I had my 39 week OB appointment in just a couple of hours, so I didn't get too excited, knowing that if anything were happening, I'd know soon.  Trevvor accompanied me as he faithfully had done throughout the pregnancy, but we left with the unsatisfying, "He could be here tonight, he could be here next week."  I was pretty sure that this was the beginning of labor, though.. I just wasn't sure how far we were from the end!

I went throughout my day as planned, running last-minute pre-baby errands and doing some last-minute nesting.  Trevvor would be working late, so I headed off to Wednesday night Bible class on my own.  About halfway through, the "pains" really started picking up.  It was hard to chatter with folks after class was over, and I headed home.  My good friend Amy came home with me until Trevvor could arrive; I was so thankful for my experienced mommy-friend's presence!  My lower back was really starting to hurt during the cramps now, and when Trevvor got home he made sure I had heat-packs throughout the night.  We ate pasta for a late dinner (I hear carbs are good for pre-labor munching?) and tried to get some rest.

Sleep, however, eluded us.  Trevvor got more than me, but he was still up and down warming up heat-packs.  I found it hard to sleep through the contractions (which I finally decided they definitely were), and sleeping between them was difficult because they were already so close together.  Some were almost a minute long and most were well under five minutes apart... I had a niggling thought that I must be really far along, because that's when my OB had said to come in.  We decided it was unlikely he was about to fall out, so we kept trying to rest, more or less unsuccessfully.

In the morning, my contractions were still steady.  They were definitely quite uncomfortable, and they were still close and long.  After a last-minute scurry to gather the last few things for our bags, we made the 40-minute, somewhat bumpy, rather snowy drive to the hospital, arriving about 9:30.  At my appointment the morning before I'd been a little over 1 cm dilated, now I was three.  THREE.  All day and all night of contractions, some worse than others, and I'd progressed less than two centimeters??  I was discouraged, and already exhausted.  My OB predicted the baby could arrive around 5:00 or 6:00, so we went ahead and checked in.

Our nurse, Carolyn, was very familiar with natural childbirth.  She had no problem with my birth plan and seemed to look forward to working with me.  After a hot shower (which helped sooo much with the back pain), they had to do some blood-work and start me on a fetal monitor for 20 minutes every hour or so.  (These periods on the monitor were the worst minutes of labor, and luckily Carolyn didn't make me do it every single hour, though her successor did.)

As the hours ticked by, besides standing in the shower with the hot water on my back, I mostly just wanted to rest.  But it was the same deal as the night before, and moments of sleep were few and far between.  I was able to relax early on, but once evening came I found it extremely difficult.  I didn't have the energy or will to "walk the halls" to get things going, or to assume any position besides supine to help Charles descend (though he was already low in my pelvis weeks before labor).  I was still determined to refuse medication, though I was coming to sympathize more and more with the mothers who chose it.  Trevvor began having to press hard on two spots in my lower back during every contraction, and that (plus heat) made them bearable.  Throughout labor, it wasn't so much my abdomen that hurt, but those two spots on my back.

Six o'clock approached, and I knew that if I didn't have him soon, my OB wouldn't be the one to deliver him.  I also knew that if I didn't have him before 7:00, I'd have a new nurse.  But my body didn't care about my time table, and the minutes ticked on.  My family arrived that evening, and my mom spent a couple of hours helping Trevvor help me before they all went to the motel for the night.  Not long after she left, probably around 10:00, I hit the dreaded "transition stage."  I was 7 cm and really beginning to doubt this whole "no meds" thing.  It was pretty textbook; I even threw up my applesauce and pretzels and asked (okay, begged) Trevvor to let them give me something "just to take the edge off."

This whole time my water still hadn't broken, and after I threw up I began having the "urge to push."  Jennifer, my new nurse, checked me, and I was only 9 cm.  She stayed in my room from then on, and she and Trevvor tried to help me redirect that urge through my breath.  It wasn't fun.  I was loud.  I was unhappy.  I started feeling desperate.  I think if someone had offered me a C-section at that moment, I just may have had one.  Finally during one of my misdirected pushes, my water broke.  I was actually encouraged--finally something definite had happened!  It was ~1:00 AM Friday morning, Jennifer checked me again, and I was finally 10 cm.  I could push!  Hallelujah!

But though the contractions came, and they were different than before, I didn't have the urge anymore.  I started pushing during the contractions despite not feeling the need to.  After the first couple pushes, my body seemed to realize, "Oh, I should help her."  But then the next contraction would come, no urge, I would push a couple times, and then my body would jump in.  Jennifer encouraged me to breathe a little differently, but it was still the same deal.  "You do great on the last couple pushes," she and Trevvor said several times. "Now do the same thing for the first couple."  It was frustrating.  I couldn't do the same thing--my body wasn't with me.  Also frustrating was that Jennifer would hold the monitor over Charles between each contraction (he was always fine) and Trevvor kept dabbing my forehead with a cool cloth.  I'm not sure why it bothered me so much; I just didn't really want anyone touching me.

I really started to feel his head move down through the birth canal.  It was exciting and terrifying.  My initial high at this realization soon turned into discouragement and nearly despair:  I felt like I was pushing him one step forward, then he would retreat two steps back.  And he kind of was.  After nearly two hours of pushing, he was finally "right there."  Jennifer summoned the OB on call, and some techs and a nursery nurse came in too.  At first I was annoyed, but all the ladies were so encouraging.  They offered to let me see his head with a mirror, they asked me if I wanted to touch his hair, but I said no.  I'm not sure why I didn't want to, and I felt like a bad mommy for not wanting to, but I didn't.  I just wanted him out.  At this point I kept asking for the doctor to use the vacuum; I just knew he was "stuck" and I desperately wanted her to help him out. But she only uses forceps, and even in my desperation I knew I didn't want that for my baby (or myself).


I was it.  I was the only person that could get this baby out.  And amidst much cheering, I did.

It hurt.  Burned, even.  I was still being loud.  I had the background thoughts that, "I hope I'm not scaring any of the other women in labor near me" and "wow, am I ever being a bad representative of natural childbirth."  But I did it.  His head was out, the doctor wiggled out his shoulders, and then, at 3:36 Friday morning, he was in my arms.

The pain was gone.  The sounds were gone.  The hours of discomfort and discouragement were just... gone. And in their place lay this little child.  He was quiet.  His eyes were bright and wide. He had dark hair on his head, flat ears, long fingers, and adorable toes.  He had a tiny freckle above his right ear.  I took all this in in moments.  Within minutes, he latched on like a pro.  The nursery nurse gave him a 1-minute APGAR score of 7, and a 5-minute score of 8. I had a medium tear, but I was smiling and laughing as the OB stitched it up.

They all left after that, and for a while it was just the three of us.  Trevvor was exhausted, I was high on adrenaline, and Charles was just.. with us.  We discovered to our bemusement that the first batch of meconium had arrived.. right on my belly.  Trevvor ably took Charles and got him cleaned up, and Jennifer came in shortly thereafter to help me clean up too and to weigh and measure Charles.  He was 7 lbs 15 oz and 21 inches long.  That first night there was some concern because I seemed to be bleeding excessively and his temperature was a bit low, but thankfully they let me do skin-to-skin and didn't whisk him away to the heat lamps.

We stayed in the hospital through Sunday.  Charles did fantastic at all his check-ups with the hospital pediatrician, and my bleeding subsided to their satisfaction.  My family was there to share the time with us and bring us decent food from the outside world.  Those days were a blur.  Charles continued to breastfeed well and often.  Between him and the nurses, we didn't get much sleep.  We were definitely glad to get outside and finally get home.

So that was how it all went down. I absolutely could not have done it without Trevvor. He was my rock.  I can't say I'm not disappointed in myself, despite the happy ending.  I really thought I'd handle it better. I'm not sure why I'm surprised though: I did tons of reading about natural childbirth but put very little time into practicing relaxation to prepare my mind or doing exercises and stretches to prepare my body.  But now I know how to prepare better for Baby #2, because as hard as it was, Lord willing, I'll definitely "go natural" again.