More Random Thoughts about Indonesia and Other... uh... Random Stuff

I am slowly getting a hold of basic Indonesian language. I can do ok at reading signs but am terrible at hearing it for comprehension. One benefit of the language is that it spells everything "foneticaly". This is awesome. I tell you, I should have been born into the Indonesian language. Let me explain. My interests academically range from math to history to geography to theology to biology to chemistry. My kryptonite is spelling the English language. Still, I have one masters degree and am now working on a second in a completely unrelated field. However, if today I walked into Mrs. Van Bockel's Third Grade Spelling Bee, I would still finish where I did back when I was 8: near the bottom of the class, misspelling such tough words as "daughter," "thought," or "probably". Needless to say, I hope my future children are not cursed with this affliction.

In Jakarta, I am well aware that I tend to stand out in a crowd. I thought it was because am I taller than 95% of the people that I meet, a little heavy, and have pale skin that blinds people when I stand in the sun. However, I have learned one additional thing that makes me stand out that I hadn't thought of before: I have blue eyes. People like looking in my eyes. Some say they have never seen blue eyes before. Who knew, the Swedish in me would make me popular?

Which brings me to the HUGE discussion that Keri and I have had a lot lately. Will our kid have blue or brown eyes? (I know; its earth-shattering. You have been patiently reading the blog for weeks now, hoping for my discussion of this vital topic) Tracing the genetics of Keri and me, I have determined that our baby has a 50-50 shot at blue or brown eyes.

Waiting for your first child to come is like waiting a while for an important house guest you have never met who is nonetheless coming to live with you for eighteen or so years. Yet you know little-to-nothing about who's coming, so it is tough to prepare for their arrival. So as you wait, you begin to speculate what they will be like. Will he (I say he; honestly, we don't know if the baby is a boy or a girl. Saying it sounds so impersonal and flippant) be blond or brown-haired, or will the Spronk genes finally pay off with black hair? Blue or brown eyes? Boy or girl? Bad speller or a Riemersma-style spelling champ (Keri was a magnificent speller in grade school - she finished runner-up in the Argus Leader compitition. It's really the reason why I married her - to help my kin)? A talker or quiet type? Twins fan or, dare I say, Yankees fan? If it's a girl, will the new "Grandma Spronk" explode in a local Target in a frenzy of pink clothes buying? (See, Ma Spronk has been blessed with only boys. Growing up, I think the most fun she had shopping was in the rare instances that she had a friend or relative who had just had a girl - She was then allowed to buy pink.)

All these questions. And many won't be answered even this year yet. So exciting.

Anyway, these are my random, rambling thoughts. You can now begin to pity the unsuspecting lot that calls me to my first charge in the church.

Jonathan

P.S. If my first born is a Twins fan, all the rest is gravy.

P.S.S. If my first born is a Yankees fan, he better be a good speller, and brown-eyed like his mother. He'll need all the help he can get.