She is still the smallest baby I have ever held, and yet, holds the record for the loudest. She was just minutes old and her face was wrinkled up from the injustice of it all. She sounded like the world had just ended and in a way, hers just had. She went from being at her own personal spa one minute, to having a bunch of people she had never laid eyes on before staring at her, weighing her, measuring her. One of them even went so far as to stick a thermometer in her tushie. She was not having any of it and she was going to let everyone know that this was not the way things were supposed to work and someone around here had better get cracking and get it right. And they did. She got a warm bath, a tightly wrapped blanket and handed to her Papa. Now this, this was the way things were supposed to be (and the way they still are). Her wailing stopped and she fell into a deep newborn sleep. It seems all she wanted was all of her demands met, in the timeframe she set forth and all would be right in the world. Hers and yours. Two years down the road, nothing has changed. Her will is as strong as ever and we wouldn't trade it for the anything. Ok, there are moments we would trade it. For just about anything...
Of course there is more to Stinkerbell than that (but she did earn the nickname honestly). She is also funny and sensitive, beautiful and mischievous, entertaining and spunky, headstrong, bossy, persistent, independent, cunning, determined...I could go on. Let's just sum it up and say she is Perfect. She is Stinkerbell and she is so good at being everything she is meant to be. She has touched our lives with sweetness, made our lives richer with her electric personality and contagious laughter and her smile could power a thousand suns. She was the last puzzle piece in what is now a complete family, and the fit was exact. She is one dazzling two year old and we could not love her any more!
Happy Second Birthday Stinkerbell!
I am now a seasoned expat wife. We have entered year three in a place where I now speak more Span than Glish but it's all still a work in progress. And with a travelling husband and two crazy little girls I am definitely living la vida loca.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Scenes from a neighborhood
Not a lot of words today. I thought I would let pictures tell the story. I went for a run yesterday through my neighborhood (something I do a couple of times a week), but this time I took my iPhone with me and snapped some shots of what beauty surrounds me on all sides. Welcome to my neighorhood.
Let's Go! |
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Is there a doctor in the house?
When you have more than one child, you sometimes feel like your house is, more often than not, an infirmary. Everyone who has children knows what I am talking about, as kids seem to pick up every germ bug that is floating around out there. It's like a twisted take on collecting and trading Pokemon cards. They get a couple, then feel the need to see what others have and trade their boring old ones for new and seemingly more exciting ones. And for those of you with more than one child, you will truly understand when I say that the number of illnesses seems to be tripled by each new child you bring home. Quadruple that if you have two that are still toddlers. There is always one that is getting sick, is currently sick, or is just getting over being sick. Especially in the winter. Especially when one or more of them is in pre-school.
We have had a run of colds and fevers and what not in this house during the two months that we have been here. In fact, I don't think Stinkerbell's nose has stopped running since we crossed into South American airspace. But then again, it hadn't stopped running for the past 3 months we were in the U.S. either. At least in the U.S. the cold and flu season was coming to an end. We were starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Here, the season is just starting - lucky us. If I was really lucky, the germs and viruses here would be the same as the ones the girls had just gone through. The ones that their immune systems had already built up an immunity to. I am not that lucky. We are dealing with a whole slew of new germs, bugs and allergies. And in true childlike fashion, they would like to try each one of them on for size.
This week we have had a fever for Stinkerbell (she is cutting 4 molars simultaneously so that might have something to do with it), a hacking cough we can't get rid of and that runny nose. MadHatter had been doing ok except for her usual allergies (which is a whole new thing here since all the plants and weeds and trees are different) but now she has had her inaugural doctor's visit to diagnose a nasty case of Impetigo on her chest. Meaning we will be quarantined for the weekend and no school for MadHatter from Wednesday on. All while B is on a two week trip. Of course. And I have to try to keep them from infecting each other so that we might be able to leave the house before the summer solstice (and remember, that is 6 months away for us in the southern hemisphere). I hear all you mother's out there trying to stifle your laughter and snorts as you think I am just fooling myself...Of course they will share it with each other (even though I can't get them to share anything else). I know this as well as you do but I have to keep the hope alive, no matter how delusional I may seem.
I guess it isn't all so bad. I get to spend some quality time with my girls for the next few days. And it is gettting colder here so we didn't have any big plans to head outdoors anyway. On the way home from the doctor's office we stopped at the Libreria and picked up a ton of art supplies. I suspect we are in for a lot of coloring, cutting and creating this weekend. Throw in a movie or two, some board games (make that game - we seem to only play Memory lately) and a ton of books to read. In fact, when put that way, maybe I am lucky we are stuck in the house. It sounds like fun. Check back with me Monday...
We have had a run of colds and fevers and what not in this house during the two months that we have been here. In fact, I don't think Stinkerbell's nose has stopped running since we crossed into South American airspace. But then again, it hadn't stopped running for the past 3 months we were in the U.S. either. At least in the U.S. the cold and flu season was coming to an end. We were starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Here, the season is just starting - lucky us. If I was really lucky, the germs and viruses here would be the same as the ones the girls had just gone through. The ones that their immune systems had already built up an immunity to. I am not that lucky. We are dealing with a whole slew of new germs, bugs and allergies. And in true childlike fashion, they would like to try each one of them on for size.
This week we have had a fever for Stinkerbell (she is cutting 4 molars simultaneously so that might have something to do with it), a hacking cough we can't get rid of and that runny nose. MadHatter had been doing ok except for her usual allergies (which is a whole new thing here since all the plants and weeds and trees are different) but now she has had her inaugural doctor's visit to diagnose a nasty case of Impetigo on her chest. Meaning we will be quarantined for the weekend and no school for MadHatter from Wednesday on. All while B is on a two week trip. Of course. And I have to try to keep them from infecting each other so that we might be able to leave the house before the summer solstice (and remember, that is 6 months away for us in the southern hemisphere). I hear all you mother's out there trying to stifle your laughter and snorts as you think I am just fooling myself...Of course they will share it with each other (even though I can't get them to share anything else). I know this as well as you do but I have to keep the hope alive, no matter how delusional I may seem.
I guess it isn't all so bad. I get to spend some quality time with my girls for the next few days. And it is gettting colder here so we didn't have any big plans to head outdoors anyway. On the way home from the doctor's office we stopped at the Libreria and picked up a ton of art supplies. I suspect we are in for a lot of coloring, cutting and creating this weekend. Throw in a movie or two, some board games (make that game - we seem to only play Memory lately) and a ton of books to read. In fact, when put that way, maybe I am lucky we are stuck in the house. It sounds like fun. Check back with me Monday...
Monday, June 13, 2011
My Thick English Accent
I am very concious of the fact that I have an accent here in Chile. Try as I might, I will never speak Spanish like a native (especially a Chilean, which I hear is a good thing). But I do pride myself on the fact that my accent is actually very good for a gringa. I can roll my r's with the best of them and I can even get just the right amount of hhhughhh in my silent, but not so silent, J. I do know there are words that cause me problems and it makes it hard for others to understand what I am trying to say. This was expected. What I didn't expect was to encounter problems with my English accent. For goodness' sake, I learned English in the midwest. We don't have an accent in the midwest. Midwest English is universally understood by everyone. Everyone apparently, except for the South American's. If this had been brought to my attention just once, I would have thought that it was an isolated event. But since I have been in Chile, three seperate people have told me, in varying ways, that I am difficult to understand when speaking English. Who would have thought that the natives would be more forgiving of my Spanglish?
The first time someone mentioned that I was hard to understand was about 2 weeks ago. A friend of ours was having a party and we were delighted to be invited. The guest list was varied and there were people from the U.S., Chile and Bolivia. I was introduced to a cousin from Bolivia and her English is like my Spanish - passable but obviously not as comfortable for her as her native language. We did our best, with both of us speaking more Spanish the English and we were getting by pretty well. But then she asked me a question I just couldn't answer in Spanish. I just didn't have the vocablulary to even attempt it, so I answered her in English. In return I got a blank stare. Ok, so I say it again, trying different words to make it a bit simpler. This time, she turns to my friend and states "I cannot understand a word she is saying". My girlfriend repeats the same thing I just said, still in English, with her Texas accent and lo and behold, she understood every word. Amazing. She understood it through the Texas drawl. This happened for the rest of the night...I needed a translator. To translate my English into English!
The next times I happened to be out and about. When people hear you speaking English (and they hear me because I am usually talking to Stinkerbell), and they speak English (even if it is only two words) they tend to want to practice with you...whether you want to or not. I don't blame them. They don't have a lot of opportunity to practice here as 95% of the population does not speak even those two words of English. So as much as I want to practice my Spanish every chance I get, I try to be accomodating and play along for awhile.
I was at Easy and I stopped a gentleman to ask where to find an item. From my Spanish, he knew I was not native and so took the opportunity to speak to me in English. But we were getting nowhere fast. Seeing as I only had an hour before I had to pick up MadHatter, I tried it another way. I said the Spanish, and then the English - Necesito una lampara, I need a lamp. Funny how he understood my spanish accent, but not the English. So he could have pointed me in the direction of Aisle 12 and that would have been that. But before pointing me in the right direction, he felt it his duty to correct my pronunciation of the English word. He repeated to me, slowly and as if I was just learning the language, the word lamp. You mean a Laahhm. My turn to look confused. Did he just tell me that the way to pronounce lamp is like llama (without the a at the end and not the way the spanish pronounce it with the ll being y). I said, "Yes, a lamp"...and he once again says "laahhm", just like my Spanish teacher does when she is trying to correct me. I finally got to Aisle 12 and got great bedside table lamps so it was all worth it in the end. And then the same thing happened when the woman behind me in line at checkout tried talking to me. We started off in English and I knew this was not going well when each time she figured out what I was saying she would say, "Oh...you mean..." and repeat exactly what I said. I wanted to say, "Isn't that what I just said?" but I like living here and don't really want to make the entire English speaking population angry with me.
I think my problem is that I speak too clearly. You see, I tend to pronounce each word, letter for letter, especially when talking to someone for whom English is a second language. I take more care talking to them and I choose my words differently. I make sentences simple and don't go around using high falutin words to sound impressive. And I tend to slow down a bit - but for me that doesn't mean much, since I speak very, very fast. But since it is not the way I usually speak, it tends to be unnatural and perhaps a bit less understandable. So I am going to take a lesson from the Chileans themselves - I am going to do what they do when speaking to a foreigner, and that is not change a single thing. When talking to me, someone they know has a tenuous grasp on the language at best, they still drop the ending of every other word, use slang that only a Chilean would know and merge 2 or 3 words into one completely unrecognizable new one. I will just speak the way I am used to and if they can't understand me, I will switch to Spanglish. At least then I don't have an accent.
The first time someone mentioned that I was hard to understand was about 2 weeks ago. A friend of ours was having a party and we were delighted to be invited. The guest list was varied and there were people from the U.S., Chile and Bolivia. I was introduced to a cousin from Bolivia and her English is like my Spanish - passable but obviously not as comfortable for her as her native language. We did our best, with both of us speaking more Spanish the English and we were getting by pretty well. But then she asked me a question I just couldn't answer in Spanish. I just didn't have the vocablulary to even attempt it, so I answered her in English. In return I got a blank stare. Ok, so I say it again, trying different words to make it a bit simpler. This time, she turns to my friend and states "I cannot understand a word she is saying". My girlfriend repeats the same thing I just said, still in English, with her Texas accent and lo and behold, she understood every word. Amazing. She understood it through the Texas drawl. This happened for the rest of the night...I needed a translator. To translate my English into English!
The next times I happened to be out and about. When people hear you speaking English (and they hear me because I am usually talking to Stinkerbell), and they speak English (even if it is only two words) they tend to want to practice with you...whether you want to or not. I don't blame them. They don't have a lot of opportunity to practice here as 95% of the population does not speak even those two words of English. So as much as I want to practice my Spanish every chance I get, I try to be accomodating and play along for awhile.
I was at Easy and I stopped a gentleman to ask where to find an item. From my Spanish, he knew I was not native and so took the opportunity to speak to me in English. But we were getting nowhere fast. Seeing as I only had an hour before I had to pick up MadHatter, I tried it another way. I said the Spanish, and then the English - Necesito una lampara, I need a lamp. Funny how he understood my spanish accent, but not the English. So he could have pointed me in the direction of Aisle 12 and that would have been that. But before pointing me in the right direction, he felt it his duty to correct my pronunciation of the English word. He repeated to me, slowly and as if I was just learning the language, the word lamp. You mean a Laahhm. My turn to look confused. Did he just tell me that the way to pronounce lamp is like llama (without the a at the end and not the way the spanish pronounce it with the ll being y). I said, "Yes, a lamp"...and he once again says "laahhm", just like my Spanish teacher does when she is trying to correct me. I finally got to Aisle 12 and got great bedside table lamps so it was all worth it in the end. And then the same thing happened when the woman behind me in line at checkout tried talking to me. We started off in English and I knew this was not going well when each time she figured out what I was saying she would say, "Oh...you mean..." and repeat exactly what I said. I wanted to say, "Isn't that what I just said?" but I like living here and don't really want to make the entire English speaking population angry with me.
I think my problem is that I speak too clearly. You see, I tend to pronounce each word, letter for letter, especially when talking to someone for whom English is a second language. I take more care talking to them and I choose my words differently. I make sentences simple and don't go around using high falutin words to sound impressive. And I tend to slow down a bit - but for me that doesn't mean much, since I speak very, very fast. But since it is not the way I usually speak, it tends to be unnatural and perhaps a bit less understandable. So I am going to take a lesson from the Chileans themselves - I am going to do what they do when speaking to a foreigner, and that is not change a single thing. When talking to me, someone they know has a tenuous grasp on the language at best, they still drop the ending of every other word, use slang that only a Chilean would know and merge 2 or 3 words into one completely unrecognizable new one. I will just speak the way I am used to and if they can't understand me, I will switch to Spanglish. At least then I don't have an accent.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Today's Blog is brought to you by the letter F...
Today felt like it had something to teach me and perhaps, just maybe, I will learn something. But not right now. I am just not in the mood. Right now I am so Fabulously Frustrated, I can't for the life of me try to sort out the lesson of the day. Am I supposed to be keeping my chin up when nothing is going my way, or was I learning to be gracious when someone is trying to help me do something I would rather be doing myself? Or maybe it is just that today, for the first time, I am feeling so fantasticaly foreign in this country I now call home. I knew it would happen, was waiting for it actually, but it still doesn't prepare you for when the time actually comes.
It started weeks ago...Weeks ago, you say? But you haven't been in Chile that many weeks...How could it have started weeks ago? But it did. Our heating system was checked and our water was regulated and we should have been good to go. But it didn't work that way. Our heat is sporadic and it depends on me going out into our laundry room about 5 times a day to open a valve so that the pressure is high enough to push the heat into the house. I sometimes forget, or I am away and the pressure drops enough that the house is like an igloo by the time I get outside to turn the valve. Then I get the heat to kick in about 4 pm and the house is a furnace when we are trying to sleep and the pressure needs to be reduced. It has been an interesting game of trying to balance the scales since we got here. To make it worse, the hot water is also regulated by this system and I can't for the life of me figure it all out. And I have been trying to get it fixed for the past couple of weeks. But this is Chile...and they will get to it, well, when they get to it.
It came to a head on Sunday. Cold showers and I do not get along. Lukewarm showers and I aren't even friendly acquaintances. I like my showers steaming hot. I mean steaming. When I don't have scalding hot water, I tend to get a bit grumpy. I was determined to finally get it under control and here is where it all falls apart for me. In California, I would have woken up Monday morning and started calling plumbers. I would have kept calling until one of them gave me that famous 4 hour time slot where he would show up in the last 15 minutes of the last hour, but he would have shown up - that day. I would have been in a hot shower sometime before bed on Monday night. But here I am, in Chile, speaking enough Spanish to get by - but not enough to conduct phone conversations. I am at the mercy of others. Others need to make my appointments. Others need to explain my problems. Others need to do things for me and that is something I am just not used to. And it frustrates me. It frustrates me because I am not used to having others do things for me that I am very capable of doing myself...at least when I speak the language. I can try and pretend that I can do all the things that I used to be able to do, but I really can't. I am a foreigner in a foreign land and try as I might, I just don't speak the language well enough to get my meaning across to a plumber and I must rely on someone else to do it for me. And it's not going down like a spoonful of sugar.
Don't get me wrong, I am still very capable. I have surprised myself in the past couple of weeks with the things I can do. But sometimes life just let's you feel all smug and you start thinking that you have this expat thing licked, and then it kicks you back down a notch or two and you realize that one of these things is not like the others - and it's you. But I won't let it define me. I won't allow this frustration to stall my drive to learn the language. I want to become independent again. I don't want to just get by, I want to flourish.
It started weeks ago...Weeks ago, you say? But you haven't been in Chile that many weeks...How could it have started weeks ago? But it did. Our heating system was checked and our water was regulated and we should have been good to go. But it didn't work that way. Our heat is sporadic and it depends on me going out into our laundry room about 5 times a day to open a valve so that the pressure is high enough to push the heat into the house. I sometimes forget, or I am away and the pressure drops enough that the house is like an igloo by the time I get outside to turn the valve. Then I get the heat to kick in about 4 pm and the house is a furnace when we are trying to sleep and the pressure needs to be reduced. It has been an interesting game of trying to balance the scales since we got here. To make it worse, the hot water is also regulated by this system and I can't for the life of me figure it all out. And I have been trying to get it fixed for the past couple of weeks. But this is Chile...and they will get to it, well, when they get to it.
It came to a head on Sunday. Cold showers and I do not get along. Lukewarm showers and I aren't even friendly acquaintances. I like my showers steaming hot. I mean steaming. When I don't have scalding hot water, I tend to get a bit grumpy. I was determined to finally get it under control and here is where it all falls apart for me. In California, I would have woken up Monday morning and started calling plumbers. I would have kept calling until one of them gave me that famous 4 hour time slot where he would show up in the last 15 minutes of the last hour, but he would have shown up - that day. I would have been in a hot shower sometime before bed on Monday night. But here I am, in Chile, speaking enough Spanish to get by - but not enough to conduct phone conversations. I am at the mercy of others. Others need to make my appointments. Others need to explain my problems. Others need to do things for me and that is something I am just not used to. And it frustrates me. It frustrates me because I am not used to having others do things for me that I am very capable of doing myself...at least when I speak the language. I can try and pretend that I can do all the things that I used to be able to do, but I really can't. I am a foreigner in a foreign land and try as I might, I just don't speak the language well enough to get my meaning across to a plumber and I must rely on someone else to do it for me. And it's not going down like a spoonful of sugar.
Don't get me wrong, I am still very capable. I have surprised myself in the past couple of weeks with the things I can do. But sometimes life just let's you feel all smug and you start thinking that you have this expat thing licked, and then it kicks you back down a notch or two and you realize that one of these things is not like the others - and it's you. But I won't let it define me. I won't allow this frustration to stall my drive to learn the language. I want to become independent again. I don't want to just get by, I want to flourish.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Rainy Days and Monday's...
As long as there is not rain and cold to start off each and every week, I don't usually mind it every once in a while. It gives you the excuse to build a fire (though you can't do that here in Chile unless it is a gas fire place) and snuggle under a blanket. I also get to wear sweaters and boots that I haven't worn in years because it never got cold enough in California. This week the rain is very welcome because recently the air quality has gotten so bad here in the city, the government has taken to using their “restricción vehicular” system. It's a pretty good system and easy to implement. When the air gets so bad you can actually taste and smell it (in your lungs, on your skin, lingering in your hair), they start taking cars off the road. First they start with those that don't have catalytic converters. Those get parked when the smog is pretty mild and that seems to be all winter. Then, when we hit a pre-emergency point, they start pulling more cars off the road. At pre-emergency levels, the government pulls cars off the road according to the last digit of their license plate and it goes in order. 1 and 2 first, then 3 and 4 etc... I am told that you can live here for years and if you time it right, you will never be affected. I have been here 2 months, and lucky me, it was my turn to be parked for the day...if only someone had told me.
B took MadHatter to school in the morning on Wednesday or I might have noticed that there was less traffic. Or maybe not - I am not really awake at that hour. We don't get a paper except on Thursdays - Sundays and because my Spanish is not great, I tend not to watch the nightly news. If any one of these things were different, I may have known not to drive. The digits that are grounded for the day are published in the paper and flashed all over the news. But in my oblivious state, I head out at about 11 am to get a birthday present for the party we were invited to on Saturday. This time I do notice that traffic is light (by 11 am I am usually a bit more aware of my surroundings) but just chalk it up to being Wednesday, and everyone was just staying inside to avoid breathing the air (the smog was so thick that I couldn't even see the mountains)
I get to the store, get what I need, pick up MadHatter and head home for lunch. I still need to do my Spanish homework so I get the girls in bed for naps and sit down to finish it up. Ok, I get the girls in bed, check my facebook, make a pot of tea, clean that up and then sit down to do it. I may have moved but I can still put off homework. I must have gotten really engrossed in it because I didn't realize that my teacher wasn't there. Nani finally asked me if I was going to have lessons today and I realize that she is a half an hour late. I go get my phone to check for messages and sure enough, she had to cancel class. Why? She couldn't drive her car because of the restrictions. It's the first I had heard of them enacting them today...and it's 3 pm...and I had been driving all day. I think, what are the odds that out of all 10 numbers, and me being here for only 2 months, that the number is 3 (my final digit)? Don't think I will be playing the Lotto any time soon with that kind of luck. I just thank my lucky stars I didn't get pulled over! It's a whopper of a fine - about $300 US. I guess I could have played the "I'm a blonde from the US and just didn't know" card but you really don't want to use those up on things that could really be avoided.
So, the rain that washes this nastiness away for all of about a day is welcome in my neck of the woods. It was so clear and beautiful this morning with all the snow that fell on the mountains. The mountains you could actually see again.
Let it rain. Maybe once a week so this junk can't settle in my lungs and I can let the girls play outside. And let it rain often enough that the snow on the mountains accumulates so that the ski resorts open later this month. Just don't let it rain so much that we have to worry about mud slides and flooding... And please give me some sort of warning next time I am not supposed to drive on the streets. I don't want to have to play charades with a cop!
B took MadHatter to school in the morning on Wednesday or I might have noticed that there was less traffic. Or maybe not - I am not really awake at that hour. We don't get a paper except on Thursdays - Sundays and because my Spanish is not great, I tend not to watch the nightly news. If any one of these things were different, I may have known not to drive. The digits that are grounded for the day are published in the paper and flashed all over the news. But in my oblivious state, I head out at about 11 am to get a birthday present for the party we were invited to on Saturday. This time I do notice that traffic is light (by 11 am I am usually a bit more aware of my surroundings) but just chalk it up to being Wednesday, and everyone was just staying inside to avoid breathing the air (the smog was so thick that I couldn't even see the mountains)
You can make out the smallest peaks but the tallest peaks are hidden in the smog. They should be about as tall as the tree in the foreground. (Picture to follow) |
So, the rain that washes this nastiness away for all of about a day is welcome in my neck of the woods. It was so clear and beautiful this morning with all the snow that fell on the mountains. The mountains you could actually see again.
Ah, you can see the mountains again! (not the same vantage point as the last picture, but you get the idea) |
Thursday, June 2, 2011
The 90% Rule
Whenever we announce that we are moving, I get asked a lot of questions. And a lot of them run along the same lines - "Doesn't it get old starting over every couple of years?", " Wouldn't you like to stay in one place and call it home?", " Aren't you afraid of disrupting your children's lives? And the biggest from the past couple of months - "But what are you going to DO there???". I have found that people usually ask these questions as a way of putting a voice to their biggest fears about moving. I get it. It would be the same as me asking someone "Don't you get bored living in the same place all the time?" Different strokes and all...
I know that the life I lead is not for all. It is trying and rewarding, it is exhausting and exciting but I also have found in moving as many times as I have (which is not nearly as many as others I know - including my parents) that there is a 90% rule. No matter where you live, approximately 90% of your life is lived exactly the same. Let me explain. My life in California went something like this: Get up at the ungodly hour of 6:30 (I am not a morning person and someone should have warned me that children are), feed Stinkerbell and MadHatter breakfast, run MadHatter to school/dance class/swimming depending on the day, run an errand/grocery shop, feed everyone lunch, home for afternoon naps (theirs, only sometimes mine) and once they are both awake I have about an hour or two before it is time to start dinner and then the bed time routine. (I'm exhausted just typing that). Throw in some play dates, get togethers with friends and trips to Disneyland and you have rounded out the week. Repeat every day. Repeat as a single mom about 50% of the time, since that is how often B travels. I know, it sounds boring, but it is the life of a mom when you have two small children. Compare that with my life in Chile...oh wait, it's EXACTLY the same. It doesn't change just because I moved to 6000 miles. My kids still wake up early, they still need to eat 3 meals a day and they probably need more baths than before because we now have a back yard that they get dirty in and a dog to get dirty with. The differences lie in that 10% of your time that you can call free time and even then the differences aren't huge. We still go on play dates at the park (I will grant you that the kids speak Spanish here), we still do dinner with friends and we still try to introduce the kids to new things and places. I think it is more about your age and stage of life, than it is about geographical location.
In my early 20's I lived in California, I can't remember much of my 10% but it probably involved good friends, a bar and sleeping late between working days. In my late 20's I moved to North Carolina and then Illinois. By my mid 30's I was back in California. In fact, we bought a house within 20 miles of where I lived at the beach in my 20's. But nothing about my two experiences in California were the same. Though the landscape was the same the rules of the game had changed. My mid-30's found B and I having 2 kids in 18 months. It meant a lot less travel, almost no eating out and my shopping was at Babies R Us. We didn't go to bars until the wee hours of the morning. Oh, we were up and bleary eyed at 3 am, but for very different reasons. We gravitated towards friends who had young children and kept the same schedule we did. Our 10% now consisted of taking the kids to Disneyland, or the zoo or an afternoon playdate at the park. It was a far cry from the type of playground I knew in my 20's...and yet, California had not changed, I had.
So it doesn't matter which hemisphere you live on but more which stage of life you are in. I am sure my experience here in Chile would be entirely different if I were single and in my 20's, and different even if I was married but had no kids, but that is not my life and I don't dwell on what it would be like if... I quite enjoy things this way. My kids give my life structure and sure, it can get repetative - and dare I say it, boring - but they also force me to get out and see new things because they truly want to soak in the world. And I love that we are seeing Chile together. All of us, for the first time, with childlike wonder and amazment. I think this is one of the great experiences of their life and in that, it becomes one of the greatest experiences in mine. And that is why I do it. It is why I don't dwell on the starting over with a new home and new friends. It is why we have disrupted their lives and ours, because in the general scheme of things, 90% of their lives are still the same. And the 10% that has changed? I am hoping that it opens their minds to other cultures, opens their hearts to new friends and opens their eyes to all of the beauty that is in the world.
I know that the life I lead is not for all. It is trying and rewarding, it is exhausting and exciting but I also have found in moving as many times as I have (which is not nearly as many as others I know - including my parents) that there is a 90% rule. No matter where you live, approximately 90% of your life is lived exactly the same. Let me explain. My life in California went something like this: Get up at the ungodly hour of 6:30 (I am not a morning person and someone should have warned me that children are), feed Stinkerbell and MadHatter breakfast, run MadHatter to school/dance class/swimming depending on the day, run an errand/grocery shop, feed everyone lunch, home for afternoon naps (theirs, only sometimes mine) and once they are both awake I have about an hour or two before it is time to start dinner and then the bed time routine. (I'm exhausted just typing that). Throw in some play dates, get togethers with friends and trips to Disneyland and you have rounded out the week. Repeat every day. Repeat as a single mom about 50% of the time, since that is how often B travels. I know, it sounds boring, but it is the life of a mom when you have two small children. Compare that with my life in Chile...oh wait, it's EXACTLY the same. It doesn't change just because I moved to 6000 miles. My kids still wake up early, they still need to eat 3 meals a day and they probably need more baths than before because we now have a back yard that they get dirty in and a dog to get dirty with. The differences lie in that 10% of your time that you can call free time and even then the differences aren't huge. We still go on play dates at the park (I will grant you that the kids speak Spanish here), we still do dinner with friends and we still try to introduce the kids to new things and places. I think it is more about your age and stage of life, than it is about geographical location.
In my early 20's I lived in California, I can't remember much of my 10% but it probably involved good friends, a bar and sleeping late between working days. In my late 20's I moved to North Carolina and then Illinois. By my mid 30's I was back in California. In fact, we bought a house within 20 miles of where I lived at the beach in my 20's. But nothing about my two experiences in California were the same. Though the landscape was the same the rules of the game had changed. My mid-30's found B and I having 2 kids in 18 months. It meant a lot less travel, almost no eating out and my shopping was at Babies R Us. We didn't go to bars until the wee hours of the morning. Oh, we were up and bleary eyed at 3 am, but for very different reasons. We gravitated towards friends who had young children and kept the same schedule we did. Our 10% now consisted of taking the kids to Disneyland, or the zoo or an afternoon playdate at the park. It was a far cry from the type of playground I knew in my 20's...and yet, California had not changed, I had.
So it doesn't matter which hemisphere you live on but more which stage of life you are in. I am sure my experience here in Chile would be entirely different if I were single and in my 20's, and different even if I was married but had no kids, but that is not my life and I don't dwell on what it would be like if... I quite enjoy things this way. My kids give my life structure and sure, it can get repetative - and dare I say it, boring - but they also force me to get out and see new things because they truly want to soak in the world. And I love that we are seeing Chile together. All of us, for the first time, with childlike wonder and amazment. I think this is one of the great experiences of their life and in that, it becomes one of the greatest experiences in mine. And that is why I do it. It is why I don't dwell on the starting over with a new home and new friends. It is why we have disrupted their lives and ours, because in the general scheme of things, 90% of their lives are still the same. And the 10% that has changed? I am hoping that it opens their minds to other cultures, opens their hearts to new friends and opens their eyes to all of the beauty that is in the world.
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