Edith woke up last week and decided that she was all about the solid food. She's gone from one "solid" meal a day to three, and I'm considering adding a few little snacks as well. She's sitting up and really taking an interest in toys now, and she's also started putting everything in her mouth. It's as if she turned into a baby instead of a newborn over night.
I love these milestones. There is nothing more fascinating than watching a helpless new baby develop ever so slowly into an independent child. I'd imagine watching them become an adult is fascinating (and frightening) as well.
Dylan slept at his nanna's house on Sunday night, and it was GREAT! Especially because Edith slept through the night and we were able to go back to sleep on Monday morning until nearly half past eight. But it was so quiet without Dylan there. Bath time was very quiet, and story and prayer time was near enough silent. It was strange, because Dylan hasn't even been talking properly for a year now, but we are so used to him talking that it's hard to imagine a time when he didn't speak.
I am pretty excited for Edith to start talking. Obviously she is babbling like crazy now, and has started experimenting with different sounds. She has such a sweet little voice--already deeper than Dylan's so I think she will have a low, husky voice when she grows up.
I'm also absurdly excited for Edith's hair to be long enough for me to style it.
This having kids thing is pretty crazy. Being a stay at home mom isn't my idea of a good time, really. It's hard work nearly all the time, and that work goes largely unacknowledged and unappreciated. But being home with my two beautiful children is still rewarding, and I am still happy. Most of the time, anyway.
Our family's "staycation" was fun, and just what I needed to shake me out of my self-pitying funk. We had such fun hanging out as a family, going shopping, visiting family and friends, going swimming, and just being together. Next days off--Christmas. But Martin had a chat with the Place owner about having two days off in a row once a month, and that is really good, too.
Friday, November 25, 2016
And now for something completely different!
Edith had her ballet show last weekend. Three performances, at three hours long each! She's been doing dancing lessons for over a year, but this was her first show. She loved it!
I've a new respect for my parents--they went to every dance recital for their 5 girls. That is some next level parenting, right there. Because even though I enjoyed watching my baby girl dance, that show was BORING! The older girls were quite good. A few of them were exceptional, and they had been given plenty of dancing solos. But most of it was just a whole lot of mediocrity.
Edith was one of the quite good ones, obviously. And I am a very honest parent in print. I would have told her I was proud of her and admired how she tried hard regardless of her performance, and then rolled my eyes behind her back and quietly encouraged her to try other things. But she is a very good dancer! She has a great sense of rhythm and is incredibly graceful and light on her feet.
Her class did two numbers. They danced to "In Summer" from "Frozen," and wore adorable snowman costumes with top hats and canes. And then they did this "Wiggle" number. She was dressed in emerald green sequins, and even without them she would have sparkled. Seriously, adorable. Except on the first night, when she seemed to spend a fair amount of time with her finger up her nose. She and her friend Connie also helped with the younger girls' dance numbers, so she got to wear a cheerleader-esque costume and a beautiful baby blue tutu. She just melted my heart.
Remember what a homely little baby she was? I knew she would be beautiful when she got older! Her daddy's going to need to get a shotgun. Good thing we'll be back in 'Merica!
It's strange to take the back seat. To be the one in the audience while your child performs. Strange, but nice. I love to see my children do well. Parenthood brings up all sorts of weird emotions. Even though I've been a mother for over 9 years now, it sometimes feels so fresh and new to me. Maybe because I am just making it up as I go along!
Incidentally, photography was not allowed. Sorry mom, no pictures. Just take my word for it--she was beautiful. Completely radiant, from the inside out. I think my mother-in-law will share her copy of the DVD though...
I've a new respect for my parents--they went to every dance recital for their 5 girls. That is some next level parenting, right there. Because even though I enjoyed watching my baby girl dance, that show was BORING! The older girls were quite good. A few of them were exceptional, and they had been given plenty of dancing solos. But most of it was just a whole lot of mediocrity.
Edith was one of the quite good ones, obviously. And I am a very honest parent in print. I would have told her I was proud of her and admired how she tried hard regardless of her performance, and then rolled my eyes behind her back and quietly encouraged her to try other things. But she is a very good dancer! She has a great sense of rhythm and is incredibly graceful and light on her feet.
Her class did two numbers. They danced to "In Summer" from "Frozen," and wore adorable snowman costumes with top hats and canes. And then they did this "Wiggle" number. She was dressed in emerald green sequins, and even without them she would have sparkled. Seriously, adorable. Except on the first night, when she seemed to spend a fair amount of time with her finger up her nose. She and her friend Connie also helped with the younger girls' dance numbers, so she got to wear a cheerleader-esque costume and a beautiful baby blue tutu. She just melted my heart.
Remember what a homely little baby she was? I knew she would be beautiful when she got older! Her daddy's going to need to get a shotgun. Good thing we'll be back in 'Merica!
It's strange to take the back seat. To be the one in the audience while your child performs. Strange, but nice. I love to see my children do well. Parenthood brings up all sorts of weird emotions. Even though I've been a mother for over 9 years now, it sometimes feels so fresh and new to me. Maybe because I am just making it up as I go along!
Incidentally, photography was not allowed. Sorry mom, no pictures. Just take my word for it--she was beautiful. Completely radiant, from the inside out. I think my mother-in-law will share her copy of the DVD though...
On being the right kind of immigrant...
I tried to not get political in 2016, mostly because my family lean heavily Republican and I tip slightly the other way. And as for British politics, well, I'm not a citizen and have been fairly careful in my opinions because I am on outsider. But something's got me thinking this morning, and opinions long held in are springing to the surface.
Blame NPR for this one. More specifically, "This American Life." Damn you, Ira Glass!!! It was the post election show, titled, "The Sun Comes Up," which I listened to via podcast. And they were talking about the election result and the impact it would have on immigration. They interviewed immigration lawyers and also a family of Brits living in the U.S. And I got slightly terrified (side bar--is it possible to be only SLIGHTLY terrified?).
Brexit freaked me out, as well. An entire country, which I have happily called home for over a decade, basically decided that they hated immigrants and wanted to cut themselves off from Europe as a result. When I woke up on the morning after the referendum and found out how the country had voted, my heart sank. I felt unwelcome here for the first time since I arrived. One of my friends commented on Facebook that she (also an immigrant) felt the same way, and one of the responses to that comment was that she wasn't THAT kind of immigrant. You know, one of the bad ones. She was the RIGHT kind of immigrant.
Apparently, I am also the "right" kind of immigrant. And the weird thing is, we are also the "right" kind of white person (oh yes, in England that is definitely a thing)! I'm not eastern European. Because my Polish ancestors immigrated to America 200 years ago, I am saved from being one of the "bad" immigrants. Seriously, the whole concept is horrible to me.
What exactly makes someone the "right" kind of immigrant? In this case, my friend is Canadian and a native English speaker. She is married to a nice Englishman, and they have two lovely kids who are 100% Yorkshire. She's even become a British citizen now. But she came here on a work visa, with a good education, a job offer, and nothing else. She wasn't particularly desirable as an immigrant then, but she is now. You don't know if someone is going to be an asset to your country until they are!
And now, this immigrant is attempting to take her very English husband and drop him back into a country that has just declared an unofficial war on immigrants. And, once again, we are dealing with the fact that he is also the "right" kind of immigrant. He is a white native English speaker with an American wife.
I didn't ask anyone in my family who they were voting for. Mostly because I was afraid of what the answer might be. But I hope they didn't vote for the man who vowed to stop immigration. Illegal immigration, yes. But also legal immigration for the "bad" immigrants.
When you look like everyone else, and you don't sound TOO different, people tend to forget that you are an outsider. But, speaking as one who has been an outsider for the past eleven years, you never forget. And people say horrible things, like immigration reform is top priority, like we need to stop letting people in to our country, like even the people who come here legally aren't really welcome. And it hurts. I only hope that nobody in my family believes those things--on either side of the pond!
Immigration policy is totally up in the air right now. With Donald Trump on the cusp of his presidency and a Republican controlled House and Senate, I am honestly worried that Martin won't get his green card. We are still waiting for an appointment from the U.S. Embassy. What if they are holding off until Trump is sworn in, to see what changes will be made? And even if everything goes to plan, is it ok for me to bring my children, with their very foreign accents, to live in a country where over 50% of the people decided they don't want outsiders being let in? Or will they be fine, since they are the "right" kind of immigrants?
But we ARE still coming, regardless of my misgivings. Hopefully this coming crack down on immigration won't mean we have to stay in England forever. Because I miss my lovely family.
Blame NPR for this one. More specifically, "This American Life." Damn you, Ira Glass!!! It was the post election show, titled, "The Sun Comes Up," which I listened to via podcast. And they were talking about the election result and the impact it would have on immigration. They interviewed immigration lawyers and also a family of Brits living in the U.S. And I got slightly terrified (side bar--is it possible to be only SLIGHTLY terrified?).
Brexit freaked me out, as well. An entire country, which I have happily called home for over a decade, basically decided that they hated immigrants and wanted to cut themselves off from Europe as a result. When I woke up on the morning after the referendum and found out how the country had voted, my heart sank. I felt unwelcome here for the first time since I arrived. One of my friends commented on Facebook that she (also an immigrant) felt the same way, and one of the responses to that comment was that she wasn't THAT kind of immigrant. You know, one of the bad ones. She was the RIGHT kind of immigrant.
Apparently, I am also the "right" kind of immigrant. And the weird thing is, we are also the "right" kind of white person (oh yes, in England that is definitely a thing)! I'm not eastern European. Because my Polish ancestors immigrated to America 200 years ago, I am saved from being one of the "bad" immigrants. Seriously, the whole concept is horrible to me.
What exactly makes someone the "right" kind of immigrant? In this case, my friend is Canadian and a native English speaker. She is married to a nice Englishman, and they have two lovely kids who are 100% Yorkshire. She's even become a British citizen now. But she came here on a work visa, with a good education, a job offer, and nothing else. She wasn't particularly desirable as an immigrant then, but she is now. You don't know if someone is going to be an asset to your country until they are!
And now, this immigrant is attempting to take her very English husband and drop him back into a country that has just declared an unofficial war on immigrants. And, once again, we are dealing with the fact that he is also the "right" kind of immigrant. He is a white native English speaker with an American wife.
I didn't ask anyone in my family who they were voting for. Mostly because I was afraid of what the answer might be. But I hope they didn't vote for the man who vowed to stop immigration. Illegal immigration, yes. But also legal immigration for the "bad" immigrants.
When you look like everyone else, and you don't sound TOO different, people tend to forget that you are an outsider. But, speaking as one who has been an outsider for the past eleven years, you never forget. And people say horrible things, like immigration reform is top priority, like we need to stop letting people in to our country, like even the people who come here legally aren't really welcome. And it hurts. I only hope that nobody in my family believes those things--on either side of the pond!
Immigration policy is totally up in the air right now. With Donald Trump on the cusp of his presidency and a Republican controlled House and Senate, I am honestly worried that Martin won't get his green card. We are still waiting for an appointment from the U.S. Embassy. What if they are holding off until Trump is sworn in, to see what changes will be made? And even if everything goes to plan, is it ok for me to bring my children, with their very foreign accents, to live in a country where over 50% of the people decided they don't want outsiders being let in? Or will they be fine, since they are the "right" kind of immigrants?
But we ARE still coming, regardless of my misgivings. Hopefully this coming crack down on immigration won't mean we have to stay in England forever. Because I miss my lovely family.
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
Not just a river in Egypt...
I am in serious denial!
This move back to the U.S. is looming ever closer, and it still seems completely unreal to me. Every time I think about it, I start to feel completely sick to my stomach, so I have chosen to just not think about it. Mistake! Because when I eventually am forced to think about it, I freak out and wind up stewing.
The latest freak out has been on behalf of my kids. I've been worried about how they will deal with the adjustment to school in Utah. It's so different from school over here. Not necessarily in a bad way, but kind of in a bad way. UK primary schools are set up so that the kids all progress at their own pace. Each subject is divided into sets, with the higher achievers all working together at an advanced pace and the slower learners hanging back and spending more time on the fundamentals of a particular concept. That's why Dylan is only in year five, but is already doing year six level maths. US elementary schools seem to bee more aimed at a middle of the road approach, and I'm not sure how my smarty pants kids will cope with that. Added to the fact that they basically started going to primary school two years before US kids do. Will they be bored out of their minds? Or will they struggle because things are taught in a different way and fall behind because the subjects aren't taught in such an individual way?
I'm also concerned about how they will do socially. Well, not so much about Edith. She is a social animal who gets on well with everybody but isn't worried about their opinions. She's basically a Regina George in the making. Dylan gets on well with everybody as well, but he is such a sensitive soul. I'm worried that he won't fit in and will be picked on. That would destroy him. If it happened to Edith, she would just think it was their problem, brush it off, and move on.
They both have friends here--friends that they've had since they were tiny. Does pulling them away from that make me a bad parent? A selfish parent? Am I going to ruin their lives?
This is why I wanted to move back before they started school!
Another, more mundane, concern is the housing situation. I am used to a certain amount of charm in my environment. Right now we live in a quaint little historic market town, in a modest but historic Victorian row house (oh how I miss my Georgian townhouse!). The streets are narrow and quite often include cobblestones. The houses are historic and made of local red brick. There's so much green! Every time we look at property for sale in Utah, it seems to be hideous 1970's ranch style houses on streets a mile wide so it's all concrete and no green. Ugh! And have I mentioned the plethora of wood paneling and terrible kitchens? It makes me want to cry.
Oh, and we will have to get rid of most of our stuff again. That's a panic attack just waiting to happen!
I've discussed this with a few people, but it's weighing on my mind. We're basically starting over for the second time. If we were staying in England, selling our house would mean buying a nicer house. We'd be paying professionals to do it up. We'd be getting new furniture, as well. Instead, moving back to Utah means we will only be able to afford a starter home. And we have almost no furniture. The work we do to the place will have to be almost entirely DIY. It's kind of soul destroying to think about.
Sheesh, this is a negative post. I'm sorry about that. Just needed to get it off my chest before it overwhelmed me. Next time I will write about the things that make me happy about moving back. I'm sensing a top ten list coming on. Or maybe even a pros and cons list.
Regardless, this move is happening.
It seems like parenting is 100% about worrying all the time!
This move back to the U.S. is looming ever closer, and it still seems completely unreal to me. Every time I think about it, I start to feel completely sick to my stomach, so I have chosen to just not think about it. Mistake! Because when I eventually am forced to think about it, I freak out and wind up stewing.
The latest freak out has been on behalf of my kids. I've been worried about how they will deal with the adjustment to school in Utah. It's so different from school over here. Not necessarily in a bad way, but kind of in a bad way. UK primary schools are set up so that the kids all progress at their own pace. Each subject is divided into sets, with the higher achievers all working together at an advanced pace and the slower learners hanging back and spending more time on the fundamentals of a particular concept. That's why Dylan is only in year five, but is already doing year six level maths. US elementary schools seem to bee more aimed at a middle of the road approach, and I'm not sure how my smarty pants kids will cope with that. Added to the fact that they basically started going to primary school two years before US kids do. Will they be bored out of their minds? Or will they struggle because things are taught in a different way and fall behind because the subjects aren't taught in such an individual way?
I'm also concerned about how they will do socially. Well, not so much about Edith. She is a social animal who gets on well with everybody but isn't worried about their opinions. She's basically a Regina George in the making. Dylan gets on well with everybody as well, but he is such a sensitive soul. I'm worried that he won't fit in and will be picked on. That would destroy him. If it happened to Edith, she would just think it was their problem, brush it off, and move on.
They both have friends here--friends that they've had since they were tiny. Does pulling them away from that make me a bad parent? A selfish parent? Am I going to ruin their lives?
This is why I wanted to move back before they started school!
Another, more mundane, concern is the housing situation. I am used to a certain amount of charm in my environment. Right now we live in a quaint little historic market town, in a modest but historic Victorian row house (oh how I miss my Georgian townhouse!). The streets are narrow and quite often include cobblestones. The houses are historic and made of local red brick. There's so much green! Every time we look at property for sale in Utah, it seems to be hideous 1970's ranch style houses on streets a mile wide so it's all concrete and no green. Ugh! And have I mentioned the plethora of wood paneling and terrible kitchens? It makes me want to cry.
Oh, and we will have to get rid of most of our stuff again. That's a panic attack just waiting to happen!
I've discussed this with a few people, but it's weighing on my mind. We're basically starting over for the second time. If we were staying in England, selling our house would mean buying a nicer house. We'd be paying professionals to do it up. We'd be getting new furniture, as well. Instead, moving back to Utah means we will only be able to afford a starter home. And we have almost no furniture. The work we do to the place will have to be almost entirely DIY. It's kind of soul destroying to think about.
Sheesh, this is a negative post. I'm sorry about that. Just needed to get it off my chest before it overwhelmed me. Next time I will write about the things that make me happy about moving back. I'm sensing a top ten list coming on. Or maybe even a pros and cons list.
Regardless, this move is happening.
It seems like parenting is 100% about worrying all the time!
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
I don't have penis envy...
...but sometimes I wish I were a man!
Yesterday was an incredibly busy day. Here's the rundown of things I did before 9:30am:
Got up and cooked the kids breakfast (fried eggs on toast--yum).
Supervised the filling in of reading diaries, signed them, and made sure they were put in school bags.
Prepared two packed lunches.
Made sure the kids got dressed, and fixed Edith's hair.
Helped find lost homework.
Drove the kids to school (see above item).
Cleaned the kitchen.
Pegged the laundry on the washing line.
Sorted all of the dirty laundry.
Started a load of laundry.
Got myself ready.
Collected shopping bags in preparation for the big weekly shop.
Got in the car to drive to Martin's hospital appointment.
By comparison, here's what Martin did yesterday before 9:30am:
Got up and got himself dressed.
Made two appointments via phone and internet.
Got in the car to drive to his hospital appointment.
Anyone else seeing a bit of imbalance there?
In Martin's defense, he DID let me get a nearly three hour nap on Sunday while he cooked dinner and ironed/watched football with the kids. That's 100% true (But he made me write it. Guilty much?).
It's been a long summer. Mostly because Martin has been ill for most of it, so a lot of stuff that he normally does has fallen to me. We're both pretty frustrated right now, but I still love my husband. Like, a lot!
Yesterday was an incredibly busy day. Here's the rundown of things I did before 9:30am:
Got up and cooked the kids breakfast (fried eggs on toast--yum).
Supervised the filling in of reading diaries, signed them, and made sure they were put in school bags.
Prepared two packed lunches.
Made sure the kids got dressed, and fixed Edith's hair.
Helped find lost homework.
Drove the kids to school (see above item).
Cleaned the kitchen.
Pegged the laundry on the washing line.
Sorted all of the dirty laundry.
Started a load of laundry.
Got myself ready.
Collected shopping bags in preparation for the big weekly shop.
Got in the car to drive to Martin's hospital appointment.
By comparison, here's what Martin did yesterday before 9:30am:
Got up and got himself dressed.
Made two appointments via phone and internet.
Got in the car to drive to his hospital appointment.
Anyone else seeing a bit of imbalance there?
In Martin's defense, he DID let me get a nearly three hour nap on Sunday while he cooked dinner and ironed/watched football with the kids. That's 100% true (But he made me write it. Guilty much?).
It's been a long summer. Mostly because Martin has been ill for most of it, so a lot of stuff that he normally does has fallen to me. We're both pretty frustrated right now, but I still love my husband. Like, a lot!
Friday, July 01, 2016
The end of an era...
Today is my last day at Beck Hill Motors (I think!).
When I started this job, I loved the people but hated the guilt of leaving my kids and taking on another responsibility. Now, 2.5 years later, I still love the people and the guilt is mostly gone--eclipsed by the irritation of having to juggle everything when there are clashes with the schedule. I have been so blessed in this job though. My bosses and co-workers are amazing. The customers are mostly very nice. And I will genuinely miss this place. And the paycheck!
Things are winding down on our lives here in England. Truth be told, we were hoping to be moving home this month. We obviously aren't there yet, but we're getting closer all the time. And I am really ok that we are still here. Although a lot of people don't believe me when I say it, I really do love England. And my job. And our ward at church. And my in-laws. Even my neighbor right now. She's lovely. Life is good, and the looming upheaval is, to put it mildly, completely terrifying!
It's been a good week, really. We started off with an anniversary dinner for my in-laws. They've been married for 40 years! Then it was the usual rounds of school runs, chiropractors appointments, Faith in God activities, ballet lessons, etc. Life has become a juggling act! Sometimes it feels like I haven't gotten anything done, even though I've been crazy busy. I'm guessing it's like that for all parents. Last week, we were at the school almost every day for one thing or another. Martin and I both felt a bit like students again.
The kids are doing really well. Dylan is currently on the bus for a school trip. He's spending two nights away at Robin Hood's Bay, and he was so excited this morning that he was practically bouncing! Edith is going for a sleepover at a friend's house. Then she has a birthday party to go to tomorrow afternoon. Saturday evening will be a total girls' night for us, as Martin is doing a shift at Winteringham Fields. Maybe I'll see if Noelle can join us with her daughter and we can make it a quadruple girls night out!
Martin's birthday is coming up on Monday. No fireworks for him. And, thanks to his chiropractor, NO GOLF! He's completely gutted. I am a bad wife, and haven't planned anything for him either. Maybe we'll do a belated birthday celebration. But we are kid free tonight, so we are going out for a moderately fancy dinner. Because I love him. Otherwise, I'd want a burger and Netflix. Sigh...I guess relationships are all about making sacrifices, like eating fancy food at a very nice restaurant. :)
In other date night news, we had the opportunity to watch some Shakespeare preformed last week. Henry V, my first time watching one of the histories. It was a student production at Franklin College in Grimsby, and it was VERY good. But it had been a long time since I'd seen or read any Shakespeare. It took a good twenty minutes to get back into the rhythm and flow of the language. Martin and I both commented on how we need to see more Shakespeare. Got to keep our cultural snobbery bona fides.
In addition to The Bard, we also got to watch Edith perform in "Cinderella and Rockerfella." She had two lines, and a lot of singing. I have to confess, I nodded off a bit during the performance. But that was mostly my fault. It was a school production, and all things considered was VERY good! And Edith was, of course, adorable. I did her makeup and curled her hair for the evening performance, and she looked so very beautiful. She loves getting all dolled up, and I love helping her (squirming aside). That girl is a stunner, and she has a lovely and sweet little singing voice. One of my favourite parts of Sunday is when I am playing prelude music for Sacrament meeting and she comes and sings at the piano. Melts my heart every time.
In other kid related news, Dylan had a bit of a breakthrough on Wednesday. It was our weekly "no tech" day, and he stopped on his way upstairs at bedtime and said, "I should really stop trying to sneak on to tech every Wednesday, because I only get in trouble. And I can just go on it the next day instead." I could practically see that lightbulb turning on over his head. And it was a beautiful moment!
So that's where we are--plodding along. Oh, and in the course of typing this blog post I have been asked to work next week as well. Guess it's not my last day of work after all. It's nice to be needed! :)
And a quick update--my petition for Martin's green card should be processed next week (or thereabouts). Exciting, huh?
When I started this job, I loved the people but hated the guilt of leaving my kids and taking on another responsibility. Now, 2.5 years later, I still love the people and the guilt is mostly gone--eclipsed by the irritation of having to juggle everything when there are clashes with the schedule. I have been so blessed in this job though. My bosses and co-workers are amazing. The customers are mostly very nice. And I will genuinely miss this place. And the paycheck!
Things are winding down on our lives here in England. Truth be told, we were hoping to be moving home this month. We obviously aren't there yet, but we're getting closer all the time. And I am really ok that we are still here. Although a lot of people don't believe me when I say it, I really do love England. And my job. And our ward at church. And my in-laws. Even my neighbor right now. She's lovely. Life is good, and the looming upheaval is, to put it mildly, completely terrifying!
It's been a good week, really. We started off with an anniversary dinner for my in-laws. They've been married for 40 years! Then it was the usual rounds of school runs, chiropractors appointments, Faith in God activities, ballet lessons, etc. Life has become a juggling act! Sometimes it feels like I haven't gotten anything done, even though I've been crazy busy. I'm guessing it's like that for all parents. Last week, we were at the school almost every day for one thing or another. Martin and I both felt a bit like students again.
The kids are doing really well. Dylan is currently on the bus for a school trip. He's spending two nights away at Robin Hood's Bay, and he was so excited this morning that he was practically bouncing! Edith is going for a sleepover at a friend's house. Then she has a birthday party to go to tomorrow afternoon. Saturday evening will be a total girls' night for us, as Martin is doing a shift at Winteringham Fields. Maybe I'll see if Noelle can join us with her daughter and we can make it a quadruple girls night out!
Martin's birthday is coming up on Monday. No fireworks for him. And, thanks to his chiropractor, NO GOLF! He's completely gutted. I am a bad wife, and haven't planned anything for him either. Maybe we'll do a belated birthday celebration. But we are kid free tonight, so we are going out for a moderately fancy dinner. Because I love him. Otherwise, I'd want a burger and Netflix. Sigh...I guess relationships are all about making sacrifices, like eating fancy food at a very nice restaurant. :)
In other date night news, we had the opportunity to watch some Shakespeare preformed last week. Henry V, my first time watching one of the histories. It was a student production at Franklin College in Grimsby, and it was VERY good. But it had been a long time since I'd seen or read any Shakespeare. It took a good twenty minutes to get back into the rhythm and flow of the language. Martin and I both commented on how we need to see more Shakespeare. Got to keep our cultural snobbery bona fides.
In addition to The Bard, we also got to watch Edith perform in "Cinderella and Rockerfella." She had two lines, and a lot of singing. I have to confess, I nodded off a bit during the performance. But that was mostly my fault. It was a school production, and all things considered was VERY good! And Edith was, of course, adorable. I did her makeup and curled her hair for the evening performance, and she looked so very beautiful. She loves getting all dolled up, and I love helping her (squirming aside). That girl is a stunner, and she has a lovely and sweet little singing voice. One of my favourite parts of Sunday is when I am playing prelude music for Sacrament meeting and she comes and sings at the piano. Melts my heart every time.
In other kid related news, Dylan had a bit of a breakthrough on Wednesday. It was our weekly "no tech" day, and he stopped on his way upstairs at bedtime and said, "I should really stop trying to sneak on to tech every Wednesday, because I only get in trouble. And I can just go on it the next day instead." I could practically see that lightbulb turning on over his head. And it was a beautiful moment!
So that's where we are--plodding along. Oh, and in the course of typing this blog post I have been asked to work next week as well. Guess it's not my last day of work after all. It's nice to be needed! :)
And a quick update--my petition for Martin's green card should be processed next week (or thereabouts). Exciting, huh?
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Evening...
We went on a family bike ride the other night. It was really lovely, to get out in the fresh air and stretch our legs. We biked down Queens Avenue, across on Butts Road, down Pasture Road South, across the level crossing, and into Water's Edge. It had rained earlier that day, and the kids had fun splashing through all the puddles. We took in the view of the Humber Bridge, and tried to spot Hull landmarks across the estuary. The sun was blazing, the breeze was cool, and all of us were together.
Times like those, my whole world seems perfect. In reality, it's not. At all. But those rare moments of perfection are sweet, and make the daily grind seem much more bearable.
Life with very young children is physically demanding. Meeting their every need quite literally wears you out. My babies are growing up now, and they pretty much take care of themselves physically. I don't have to wipe bottoms or spoon feed any more. But parenting is still challenging. My greatest difficulty at the moment seems to be not getting irritated by the little darlings. Edith isn't so bad, but Dylan is going through a stag --what I hope is a stage and not just his personality-- that is hard to deal with. Basically, he is a loud, arrogant, annoying little, um, child. He still has moments of sweetness and he just wants a kiss and a cuddle at the end of the day, but he seriously drives me nuts most of the time. I totally love my son, but I sometimes struggle to like him.
Man, did I just commit that sentiment to public record? Let me explain...
Dylan is gorgeous. Seriously, a really good looking kid. He is incredibly bright--like genius level in school. He has a great vocabulary and is wonderfully sensitive. He is passionate about his hobbies. But what this means irl is that he constantly yammers on about football and whatever computer/playstation game he is currently interested in. Minecraft is the worst! He can speak to you like an adult, so you forget he is only eight years old. And emotionally, a very young eight years old. He cries and sulks (though not as much as he did up until about six weeks ago) at the drop of a hat. He is sneaky, constantly trying to play me and Martin against each other. He thinks he knows everything, and constantly butts in with his unsolicited advice or opinions. He tries to take over every single social situation. Oh, and did I mention that he has no concept of personal space or an inside voice?
Makes me wonder what I was like as a child. Though I suspect my nose was buried in a book too often for me to be pushy and loud.
It's probably only a matter of time before Edith starts to annoy me as well. In fact, she already does. Just not as much.
But at night, when I am tucking him in to bed, and he gives me a sleepy smile and a kiss, I remember how much I love him. How he was my miracle baby, and the sweetest little toddler around. How he was my sanity and my constant companion after Edith was born. How I would do absolutely anything for him. And the slate is wiped clean. I love him perfectly again. At least until morning, when he sneaks downstairs to go on Minecraft, poops with the bathroom door open, hangs all over everybody, bosses everyone around, screams the walls down while talking to people who are sitting right next to him, and speaks to me (or Martin) like we are stupid.
Ah, the circle of love with an eight year old boy
Times like those, my whole world seems perfect. In reality, it's not. At all. But those rare moments of perfection are sweet, and make the daily grind seem much more bearable.
Life with very young children is physically demanding. Meeting their every need quite literally wears you out. My babies are growing up now, and they pretty much take care of themselves physically. I don't have to wipe bottoms or spoon feed any more. But parenting is still challenging. My greatest difficulty at the moment seems to be not getting irritated by the little darlings. Edith isn't so bad, but Dylan is going through a stag --what I hope is a stage and not just his personality-- that is hard to deal with. Basically, he is a loud, arrogant, annoying little, um, child. He still has moments of sweetness and he just wants a kiss and a cuddle at the end of the day, but he seriously drives me nuts most of the time. I totally love my son, but I sometimes struggle to like him.
Man, did I just commit that sentiment to public record? Let me explain...
Dylan is gorgeous. Seriously, a really good looking kid. He is incredibly bright--like genius level in school. He has a great vocabulary and is wonderfully sensitive. He is passionate about his hobbies. But what this means irl is that he constantly yammers on about football and whatever computer/playstation game he is currently interested in. Minecraft is the worst! He can speak to you like an adult, so you forget he is only eight years old. And emotionally, a very young eight years old. He cries and sulks (though not as much as he did up until about six weeks ago) at the drop of a hat. He is sneaky, constantly trying to play me and Martin against each other. He thinks he knows everything, and constantly butts in with his unsolicited advice or opinions. He tries to take over every single social situation. Oh, and did I mention that he has no concept of personal space or an inside voice?
Makes me wonder what I was like as a child. Though I suspect my nose was buried in a book too often for me to be pushy and loud.
It's probably only a matter of time before Edith starts to annoy me as well. In fact, she already does. Just not as much.
But at night, when I am tucking him in to bed, and he gives me a sleepy smile and a kiss, I remember how much I love him. How he was my miracle baby, and the sweetest little toddler around. How he was my sanity and my constant companion after Edith was born. How I would do absolutely anything for him. And the slate is wiped clean. I love him perfectly again. At least until morning, when he sneaks downstairs to go on Minecraft, poops with the bathroom door open, hangs all over everybody, bosses everyone around, screams the walls down while talking to people who are sitting right next to him, and speaks to me (or Martin) like we are stupid.
Ah, the circle of love with an eight year old boy
Thursday, May 19, 2016
A new job opportunity???
I've been at Beck Hill Motors for over two years now, and I love working here. Getting myself ready for work while getting the kids ready for school and juggling their school activities and childcare, not so much. But once I am here, it's such a great place to work. That being said, life marches on. The girl who works Saturdays, Laura, is finishing her degree this year, and has a full time job waiting for her. So Elaine (my delightful boss) needs someone to work Thursday through Saturday. I can't do that. Plus, I can't work during school holidays. So I will be finishing up here in June. Good bye, Beck Hill Motors :(
BUT...
Martin went to see a chiropractor on Tuesday (it's only taken me ten years to convince him to go) for his bad back, which is now turning into his bad neck, back and shoulders. While he was there, they mentioned that their massage therapist was leaving. Martin said, "Hey, my wife is a massage therapist. You should hire her." Then I came in as I was waiting in the car park with his lunch and wanted to see how long he would be, yada yada yada, long story short...I've got a job interview with them on Monday. I don't know any details yet, but it could be good. I am imagining all the free chiropractic care I can get. Mmmmm...
I'll keep you all posted.
Edith's shingles rash is nearly gone. She hasn't been too miserable with it. The scabs are starting to fall off now, and they are driving her a little bit crazy. But she checks her back every day and is pleased to see the improvement.
In Dylan news, he continues to be simultaneously brilliant and incapable of carrying out any common-sense task! But I do love that boy.
Do I have anything exciting to write about? Well, I bought an epilator for my hairy gorilla arms. And I had my roots touched up. That's pretty much it. Wow, I have a very dull life!
BUT...
Martin went to see a chiropractor on Tuesday (it's only taken me ten years to convince him to go) for his bad back, which is now turning into his bad neck, back and shoulders. While he was there, they mentioned that their massage therapist was leaving. Martin said, "Hey, my wife is a massage therapist. You should hire her." Then I came in as I was waiting in the car park with his lunch and wanted to see how long he would be, yada yada yada, long story short...I've got a job interview with them on Monday. I don't know any details yet, but it could be good. I am imagining all the free chiropractic care I can get. Mmmmm...
I'll keep you all posted.
Edith's shingles rash is nearly gone. She hasn't been too miserable with it. The scabs are starting to fall off now, and they are driving her a little bit crazy. But she checks her back every day and is pleased to see the improvement.
In Dylan news, he continues to be simultaneously brilliant and incapable of carrying out any common-sense task! But I do love that boy.
Do I have anything exciting to write about? Well, I bought an epilator for my hairy gorilla arms. And I had my roots touched up. That's pretty much it. Wow, I have a very dull life!
(last week's post, written but not published) Poor baby...
Edith had what looked like a few mosquito bites on her back last week. But over the weekend they bloomed into a nasty looking rash, so I took her to see the doctor on Monday. Turns out, she has shingles! And, sadly, it was too late for anti-virals to be effective. She's just had to tough it out. But she IS one tough cookie, and she's doing fine. She hasn't even missed any school, since the contagious stage was over and the rash is completely covered by her clothes. She's just been a bit whiny, but it's hard to say whether that's because of the virus or her personality. She's been a bit of a little madame lately.
Good week so far. Pattern shopping with the lovely Alice Whall (she's asked me to make her temple dress. Aww!), and a services swap with my friend Natasha. I gave her a massage, and she gave me a pedicure. Then yesterday was all about housework, with a 1.5 hour break for yoga. My front room and bathroom are gleaming. For now, anyway. I DO live with a bunch of nominally domesticated pigs, Lord love them. Anyway, yoga was amazing. And very tough on the ankles, as we did a lot of wide legged stances and balance poses. Yoga is my bliss!
Good week so far. Pattern shopping with the lovely Alice Whall (she's asked me to make her temple dress. Aww!), and a services swap with my friend Natasha. I gave her a massage, and she gave me a pedicure. Then yesterday was all about housework, with a 1.5 hour break for yoga. My front room and bathroom are gleaming. For now, anyway. I DO live with a bunch of nominally domesticated pigs, Lord love them. Anyway, yoga was amazing. And very tough on the ankles, as we did a lot of wide legged stances and balance poses. Yoga is my bliss!
Thursday, May 05, 2016
Is lust still a sin...
...if you are lusting after your own husband?
Martin was playing basketball last night. Found a local team a few weeks ago, and he's been practicing with them on the odd Friday night when he hasn't been at work. They had a match in Grimsby last night, and we all rode in so that we could watch him play.
I am used to my husband being the skinny one on the field or court. But last night, as he ran around like a headless chicken playing very aggressive and handsy basketball, I realized that he's not any more. This joinery job of his has filled him out in a way that I find very appealing. He looks like a man now, instead of a boy. And I couldn't take my eyes off him.
I've noticed it before now, the extra muscle. But last night he was wearing a sleeveless b-ball jersey and was with a room full of other physically fit men. And he looked GOOD!
(Found this partially finished post and thought I'd throw it up here just for fun!)
Martin was playing basketball last night. Found a local team a few weeks ago, and he's been practicing with them on the odd Friday night when he hasn't been at work. They had a match in Grimsby last night, and we all rode in so that we could watch him play.
I am used to my husband being the skinny one on the field or court. But last night, as he ran around like a headless chicken playing very aggressive and handsy basketball, I realized that he's not any more. This joinery job of his has filled him out in a way that I find very appealing. He looks like a man now, instead of a boy. And I couldn't take my eyes off him.
I've noticed it before now, the extra muscle. But last night he was wearing a sleeveless b-ball jersey and was with a room full of other physically fit men. And he looked GOOD!
(Found this partially finished post and thought I'd throw it up here just for fun!)
Total slacker...
It's not that I've had nothing to write about, because I have! Just been lazy, I guess. Winter was long and overwhelming for me, and even with the help of antidepressants I found it very difficult just to do the bare minimum to keep the household ticking over. But the sun is shining, birds are singing, I (accidentally) came off the happy pills, and things are going well.
First things first, our time frame has shifted but we ARE still moving back to the U.S.(see above statement on my crappy winter). We'll keep everyone posted. Don't hold your breath, because, well, bureaucracy, but it is still happening FOR SURE! If we hadn't sold our house, I would be tempted to stay here forever. But he did, and so we aren't.
Dylan and Edith are basically the same, just a little older. Still doing great in school, still driving me crazy at home. The biggest changes are that Dylan is basically toothless and Edith is getting a little bit bratty. Time will march on!
Martin is still loving being a joiner. He is on short term contracts, but has yet to go more than three days without a job. He is in demand, and it is fantastic! Currently, he is working on a school refurbishment in Scunthorpe. He comes home filthy dirty, but he comes home at 4:30pm. And stays for the rest of the night! The novelty still hasn't worn off. I'm still thrilled to have my husband at home with me almost every single night. And he loves it, because he can go do sporty things and I don't freak out about him deserting me on his one night off. Everybody wins. He does still pick up the occasional shift at Winteringham Fields, as well. He still loves doing that, and a few times a month is nice for all of us.
I'm going to try to end this shameful blogging dry spell. Promise!
First things first, our time frame has shifted but we ARE still moving back to the U.S.(see above statement on my crappy winter). We'll keep everyone posted. Don't hold your breath, because, well, bureaucracy, but it is still happening FOR SURE! If we hadn't sold our house, I would be tempted to stay here forever. But he did, and so we aren't.
Dylan and Edith are basically the same, just a little older. Still doing great in school, still driving me crazy at home. The biggest changes are that Dylan is basically toothless and Edith is getting a little bit bratty. Time will march on!
Martin is still loving being a joiner. He is on short term contracts, but has yet to go more than three days without a job. He is in demand, and it is fantastic! Currently, he is working on a school refurbishment in Scunthorpe. He comes home filthy dirty, but he comes home at 4:30pm. And stays for the rest of the night! The novelty still hasn't worn off. I'm still thrilled to have my husband at home with me almost every single night. And he loves it, because he can go do sporty things and I don't freak out about him deserting me on his one night off. Everybody wins. He does still pick up the occasional shift at Winteringham Fields, as well. He still loves doing that, and a few times a month is nice for all of us.
I'm going to try to end this shameful blogging dry spell. Promise!
Monday, November 30, 2015
Did we leave it too late?
I was thinking in the shower today, as I am wont to do do, and I realized that moving to Utah could be a bigger wrench for Dylan than I'd initially thought it would be.
He is football mad now, in a way that he never was before. And he has all of his neighbourhood friends that he plays out with. He's established himself in school as one of the "brainy" ones. He is comfortable with his life as it is. And we are going to take him to the U.S., where Premiership football might as well not exist. His love of Match Attax cards will go unfulfilled and he will know loads about a sporting league that, for all intents and purposes, most people in Utah don't even know exists. He will have to make new friends, and learn new things to talk about and new ways of playing. Oh wow--what am I about to do to my son? Is he going to be ok?
We wanted to leave here 6 years ago. When he was three, a move wouldn't have been a big deal at all. But now, well, it's a very big deal. And though he is excited about it, it's little wonder that he is also anxious. He is constantly asking little "When we move to America" questions. Poor kid!
Does moving back to Utah make me the most selfish beast of a parent in the world?
He is football mad now, in a way that he never was before. And he has all of his neighbourhood friends that he plays out with. He's established himself in school as one of the "brainy" ones. He is comfortable with his life as it is. And we are going to take him to the U.S., where Premiership football might as well not exist. His love of Match Attax cards will go unfulfilled and he will know loads about a sporting league that, for all intents and purposes, most people in Utah don't even know exists. He will have to make new friends, and learn new things to talk about and new ways of playing. Oh wow--what am I about to do to my son? Is he going to be ok?
We wanted to leave here 6 years ago. When he was three, a move wouldn't have been a big deal at all. But now, well, it's a very big deal. And though he is excited about it, it's little wonder that he is also anxious. He is constantly asking little "When we move to America" questions. Poor kid!
Does moving back to Utah make me the most selfish beast of a parent in the world?
Thursday, November 05, 2015
A shift...
I have spent years being the most important person in the lives of my children. They love their dad, don't get me wrong. But he worked a lot, and I was on the front lines as the full time mother and housewife. They came to me for food, drinks, clothes, shoes, cuddles, you name it. And now I can feel that need changing. They are becoming more and more independent, and I am becoming a peripheral figure in their lives. Especially Dylan's, now that he is a very grown-up eight year old.
I never thought it would bother me. Truth be told, in many ways it doesn't. I love that they can do most things for themselves now. It's incredibly freeing! But it does make me slightly sad that I will never be the focal point in their little lives again. From here on out it will be friends, then girlfriends and boyfriends, then spouses, and then children (hopefully in that order!).
Life is kind of like the weather in England--if you don't like it, just wait five minutes.
I never thought it would bother me. Truth be told, in many ways it doesn't. I love that they can do most things for themselves now. It's incredibly freeing! But it does make me slightly sad that I will never be the focal point in their little lives again. From here on out it will be friends, then girlfriends and boyfriends, then spouses, and then children (hopefully in that order!).
Life is kind of like the weather in England--if you don't like it, just wait five minutes.
Friday, October 23, 2015
A religious experience on the 350 Humber Fastcat bus to Hull
So I have done some things in my life that I am deeply ashamed of. That's not news to anybody who knows me well, but I just thought I'd throw it out there. Most of them were as a direct result of my rape at age 17, a fact which I realized during my therapy sessions to treat my PTSD (did you know I was officially diagnosed with it?).
I heard about this book, "The Body Keeps The Score," by Bessel van der Kolk, and it sounded right up my alley, so I asked my local library to get it in for me. They happily obliged for a reservation fee of £.75. It came in late last week, and it turns out that it is maybe the best £.75 I have ever spent.
This is a "smart book." No skimming allowed, because it is so densely packed with information that you have to read and comprehend every single word. But it is so profoundly interesting that you wouldn't want to skip anything, even if you could. It is all about the effects of trauma on the body, and it is fascinating.
I have spent the last week discovering why I did all of the things I did after my assault. Everything was basically a direct result of neurological functions. A way for my brain to process everything that had happened and get past it. And as I sat on the bus, reading this book, I had a moment of revelation. I realized that my actions in the face of the first rape, and in the years after it, were more than just mistakes. They were ways for my body and mind to try to heal themselves. And I knew, with every fiber of my being, that God does not judge me for the things I did then. In fact, God is proud of me for finding a way to get better, in the face of some pretty horrific things that had been done to me. I wasn't able to go to anyone else for help at that time, so I had to try and help myself. And, in a weird way, my actions seem to have been guided by God even though they were not necessarily "good." Because as I look at those early years, I realize that so many things I did are very nearly textbook examples of how to treat PTSD. And that could NOT be a happy accident. The odds are too high against it.
I needed therapy. It was the last step to help me in my recovery. But I was functioning before that. In a nearly normal way. And after the things that happened, I should not have been. I have no reason to be ashamed. I should be proud of myself, just like God is.
I sat and cried on that bus. Because for the first time in years, I felt truly clean.
I heard about this book, "The Body Keeps The Score," by Bessel van der Kolk, and it sounded right up my alley, so I asked my local library to get it in for me. They happily obliged for a reservation fee of £.75. It came in late last week, and it turns out that it is maybe the best £.75 I have ever spent.
This is a "smart book." No skimming allowed, because it is so densely packed with information that you have to read and comprehend every single word. But it is so profoundly interesting that you wouldn't want to skip anything, even if you could. It is all about the effects of trauma on the body, and it is fascinating.
I have spent the last week discovering why I did all of the things I did after my assault. Everything was basically a direct result of neurological functions. A way for my brain to process everything that had happened and get past it. And as I sat on the bus, reading this book, I had a moment of revelation. I realized that my actions in the face of the first rape, and in the years after it, were more than just mistakes. They were ways for my body and mind to try to heal themselves. And I knew, with every fiber of my being, that God does not judge me for the things I did then. In fact, God is proud of me for finding a way to get better, in the face of some pretty horrific things that had been done to me. I wasn't able to go to anyone else for help at that time, so I had to try and help myself. And, in a weird way, my actions seem to have been guided by God even though they were not necessarily "good." Because as I look at those early years, I realize that so many things I did are very nearly textbook examples of how to treat PTSD. And that could NOT be a happy accident. The odds are too high against it.
I needed therapy. It was the last step to help me in my recovery. But I was functioning before that. In a nearly normal way. And after the things that happened, I should not have been. I have no reason to be ashamed. I should be proud of myself, just like God is.
I sat and cried on that bus. Because for the first time in years, I felt truly clean.
Friday, October 16, 2015
Evolving
Ten years ago, we moved to England. We had been married for not quite four years. I was only 26 years old, and had no children and no responsibilities other than making sure I had a roof over my head and food to eat. Martin and I spent most of our time doing a whole lot of whatever we wanted to do. I had a flat stomach. Boy, how things have changed!
I took Dylan to his first ever football training session last Thursday. I took him there in my new-to-us Renault Scenic. It's a long chassis vehicle. Basically, a minivan that only seats five. It is totally a mommy car. I've never had one of those before. And though I love it, because we all have so much more space on long drives now, I also hate it. It's like I've finally given up on my youth and have resigned myself to parenthood and impending middle age.
But the kids have tray tables, just like on an airplane. And there is underfloor storage. And I can fit Edith's bike in the back seat!
Getting older really sucks. I know a lot of people are fine with it. But they are only fooling themselves. I don't think about it very often, but when I do I mourn the passing of my youth. Most of the time, I don't feel like I'm getting any older. But when I see how grown up my children are getting, or when I buy a soccer mom Scenic and LOVE it, I realize just how much things have changed in the past ten years. And though I love my life, and especially my children, it makes me sad. Because I don't deal well with change. Never have, never will. And, unfortunately, that's what life is all about.
Autumn always makes me slightly melancholy. Watching another growing cycle come to an end, and seeing mother nature shutting down for a long winter's rest. It always feels like the end of something, even though I know that life is cyclical in nature. It's as much a beginning as it is an end. But the days get shorter, the nights close in, and everything starts to die. And I start to think about ageing, and the inevitable changes that come with it.
I think I need to up my happy pill dosage.
I took Dylan to his first ever football training session last Thursday. I took him there in my new-to-us Renault Scenic. It's a long chassis vehicle. Basically, a minivan that only seats five. It is totally a mommy car. I've never had one of those before. And though I love it, because we all have so much more space on long drives now, I also hate it. It's like I've finally given up on my youth and have resigned myself to parenthood and impending middle age.
But the kids have tray tables, just like on an airplane. And there is underfloor storage. And I can fit Edith's bike in the back seat!
Getting older really sucks. I know a lot of people are fine with it. But they are only fooling themselves. I don't think about it very often, but when I do I mourn the passing of my youth. Most of the time, I don't feel like I'm getting any older. But when I see how grown up my children are getting, or when I buy a soccer mom Scenic and LOVE it, I realize just how much things have changed in the past ten years. And though I love my life, and especially my children, it makes me sad. Because I don't deal well with change. Never have, never will. And, unfortunately, that's what life is all about.
Autumn always makes me slightly melancholy. Watching another growing cycle come to an end, and seeing mother nature shutting down for a long winter's rest. It always feels like the end of something, even though I know that life is cyclical in nature. It's as much a beginning as it is an end. But the days get shorter, the nights close in, and everything starts to die. And I start to think about ageing, and the inevitable changes that come with it.
I think I need to up my happy pill dosage.
Friday, October 02, 2015
Connections...
Most especially, the internet ones!
After three weeks of absolutely no home broadband, we are officially connected again. It feels like freedom!
So that was the highlight of the week, for the whole family. But it hasn't been a great week. Here's why:
Saturday, Dylan was allowed to "play out" (possibly the most useful British phrase since "How do you feel in yourself" and "I can't be bothered") with instructions to be home in half an hour. Nearly an hour later, when he still hadn't showed up at home, I went to collect him from one of the two places he was supposed to be. Imagine my surprise when I discovered he wasn't there!
I wandered the neighbourhood for the next half an hour, searching for my missing eight year old son. Had to leave poor Edith at home alone to do it, as well, in case he showed up at home whilst I was out searchng!
He wasn't in any of the usual spots, and I was nearly panicking when Edith called me to tell me he was home. I rushed back, and that kid got the spanking of his life, as well as properly shouted at for the first time ever. He was, in addition, grounded from all tech for a week, and grounded from playing out indefinitely. And when I told him all that and he was still being defiant and indifferent, I hit him where it REALLY hurts. I took away his Barcelona football kit. That drove the message home, obviously, since he sobbed for the next 30 minutes. And I can tell you one thing--that kid will NEVER do that again!
Sunday was the Primary Sacrament meeting presentation. It went well, with few mistakes and lots of brilliant moments. Mostly, I am just glad it's over. Not my favourite thing to do in the whole world!
Monday was when it all started to go a bit wrong. I drove to Scunthorpe to give Gill her weekly massage, but she was having one of her long (read 3-4 day) sleeps, so we decided to give it a miss. I did my weekly shop, grabbed some lunch, and headed for home. When I got back to Barton, I realised that my house key was locked inside the house. We have no spare key. So I had to drive over to our estate agent's office to borrow their copy. As I was rounding the corner to go to their office, the EPC light came on in the car and the engine died. I couldn't get it restarted, so had to call work to come and bail me out. Which they did. Which was awesome.
My lovely boss, Chris, gave me (and my groceries) a ride home. Then I found my own keys, returned the estate agent's keys, and was home just in time for the kids to get back from school. And Chris told me it was most likely the cambelt. Ouch! It will cost more than we paid for the car to get it fixed. Time to shop for a new-to-us car.
Tuesday was great, actually. I unpacked all of the boxes in the dining room, and it is looking really nice. That was also when the BT engineer came out and sorted our internet. It took 3 1/2 hours, but the man was tenacious, and got it fixed.
The rest of the week has just been, for lack of a better word, blah! I haven't felt this way for a long time, and really need something to pull me out of this funk. It totally sucks! The kids are going for a sleepover at their Auntie Cathy's house tonight, and they are super excited for that. Martin and I are going on a hot date, so maybe that will shake things up enough to snap me out of it. Oh, and we hope to buy a car tomorrow. That should help as well.
After three weeks of absolutely no home broadband, we are officially connected again. It feels like freedom!
So that was the highlight of the week, for the whole family. But it hasn't been a great week. Here's why:
Saturday, Dylan was allowed to "play out" (possibly the most useful British phrase since "How do you feel in yourself" and "I can't be bothered") with instructions to be home in half an hour. Nearly an hour later, when he still hadn't showed up at home, I went to collect him from one of the two places he was supposed to be. Imagine my surprise when I discovered he wasn't there!
I wandered the neighbourhood for the next half an hour, searching for my missing eight year old son. Had to leave poor Edith at home alone to do it, as well, in case he showed up at home whilst I was out searchng!
He wasn't in any of the usual spots, and I was nearly panicking when Edith called me to tell me he was home. I rushed back, and that kid got the spanking of his life, as well as properly shouted at for the first time ever. He was, in addition, grounded from all tech for a week, and grounded from playing out indefinitely. And when I told him all that and he was still being defiant and indifferent, I hit him where it REALLY hurts. I took away his Barcelona football kit. That drove the message home, obviously, since he sobbed for the next 30 minutes. And I can tell you one thing--that kid will NEVER do that again!
Sunday was the Primary Sacrament meeting presentation. It went well, with few mistakes and lots of brilliant moments. Mostly, I am just glad it's over. Not my favourite thing to do in the whole world!
Monday was when it all started to go a bit wrong. I drove to Scunthorpe to give Gill her weekly massage, but she was having one of her long (read 3-4 day) sleeps, so we decided to give it a miss. I did my weekly shop, grabbed some lunch, and headed for home. When I got back to Barton, I realised that my house key was locked inside the house. We have no spare key. So I had to drive over to our estate agent's office to borrow their copy. As I was rounding the corner to go to their office, the EPC light came on in the car and the engine died. I couldn't get it restarted, so had to call work to come and bail me out. Which they did. Which was awesome.
My lovely boss, Chris, gave me (and my groceries) a ride home. Then I found my own keys, returned the estate agent's keys, and was home just in time for the kids to get back from school. And Chris told me it was most likely the cambelt. Ouch! It will cost more than we paid for the car to get it fixed. Time to shop for a new-to-us car.
Tuesday was great, actually. I unpacked all of the boxes in the dining room, and it is looking really nice. That was also when the BT engineer came out and sorted our internet. It took 3 1/2 hours, but the man was tenacious, and got it fixed.
The rest of the week has just been, for lack of a better word, blah! I haven't felt this way for a long time, and really need something to pull me out of this funk. It totally sucks! The kids are going for a sleepover at their Auntie Cathy's house tonight, and they are super excited for that. Martin and I are going on a hot date, so maybe that will shake things up enough to snap me out of it. Oh, and we hope to buy a car tomorrow. That should help as well.
Friday, September 25, 2015
Internet
Basically, we still don't have it in our house. And yes, it is driving me crazy. But as the days go on with no connection, I miss it less and less. I have been spending more time reading and working, more time listening to music. I haven't been on Facebook every two hours and all of my social media activity has basically been limited to two days a week when I can use the WiFi at work, or when I happen to be driving past a McDonald's.
It's amazing, how quickly we come to take things like WiFi for granted. When I first moved away from home and went to college, I had to go to the school's library to type papers and send e-mails. I had no computer in my room, and I didn't even have my own phone line, let alone internet. AND, no mobile phones! How did I survive? Things have changed a lot in the past 15-16 years.
Now I feel really old!
Dylan has lost another tooth. And I know that hardly seems BLOG-worthy, but trust me, it's a big deal. He really doesn't like losing his teeth, and this one was a front tooth that was barely hanging on for almost 10 weeks. I had finally had enough of him looking like he had a chiclet held to his gums, being unable to speak properly, and eating out of the side of his mouth. I told him if it wasn't out by the following day I was taking him to the dentist to have it pulled. He got it out the next morning. And then, last night, Edith head butted him whilst they were playing and knocked out another one. What a champion!
It's amazing, how quickly we come to take things like WiFi for granted. When I first moved away from home and went to college, I had to go to the school's library to type papers and send e-mails. I had no computer in my room, and I didn't even have my own phone line, let alone internet. AND, no mobile phones! How did I survive? Things have changed a lot in the past 15-16 years.
Now I feel really old!
Dylan has lost another tooth. And I know that hardly seems BLOG-worthy, but trust me, it's a big deal. He really doesn't like losing his teeth, and this one was a front tooth that was barely hanging on for almost 10 weeks. I had finally had enough of him looking like he had a chiclet held to his gums, being unable to speak properly, and eating out of the side of his mouth. I told him if it wasn't out by the following day I was taking him to the dentist to have it pulled. He got it out the next morning. And then, last night, Edith head butted him whilst they were playing and knocked out another one. What a champion!
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Irony...
When Martin and I bought our house on Fleetgate, we spent the first few months trying to get rid of the wet dog and nicotine smell that pervaded the upstairs rooms. On Monday night, when we went to give the keys to the new owners, they were smoking and their dog was running around.
Hmm...
It is done. The money is in the bank. We are mortgage free. It still doesn't feel quite real, but once we start filling out paperwork, I'm sure it will. This is happening, and it is very exciting!
Every time I do something now, I think to myself that it could be the last time. Last Barton Carnival, last time at the Lincoln Christmas market, last bonfire night, last Primary presentation, etc. It's a strange feeling. We've been here for so long, and we are so happy and comfortable here. In fact, it occurred to me just yesterday that I have lived at 48 Fleetgate longer than I have ever lived anywhere in my whole life! Change is a good thing, but it is so terrifying!
One good thing came of the key exchange. They were painting their new house, and it got me all excited to buy a house in Utah when we move back. I love the fun of making a house a home. It's different with a rental, when you don't want to do too much to it since it's not yours (and because you'll only be living there for a few months). But it's great to start with a clean slate, choose colours, make changes, and do all that initial work that makes a place your own. We are planning on buying a fixer-upper and really going to town on it. I can hardly wait!
The kids are thriving at school, as per usual. They both love their new teachers, and are getting right back into the swing of things. I have started letting them walk to school on their own, and Dylan especially loves the independence it gives him. Edith isn't allowed to go on her own though, because she is a bit on the flighty side, so if Dylan has a club after school, I go and collect her. It's so nice to only have to get the kids ready in the morning and not worry about getting myself ready as well.
Martin is still loving the job. This career move has been brilliant for him so far. He's having to work weekends at the moment, as they are pushing hard to finish a job, but he still comes home from work happy and never has to go in after his scheduled hours. And he gets paid hourly, so a 50 hour work week is worth it!
So that's the update.
Hmm...
It is done. The money is in the bank. We are mortgage free. It still doesn't feel quite real, but once we start filling out paperwork, I'm sure it will. This is happening, and it is very exciting!
Every time I do something now, I think to myself that it could be the last time. Last Barton Carnival, last time at the Lincoln Christmas market, last bonfire night, last Primary presentation, etc. It's a strange feeling. We've been here for so long, and we are so happy and comfortable here. In fact, it occurred to me just yesterday that I have lived at 48 Fleetgate longer than I have ever lived anywhere in my whole life! Change is a good thing, but it is so terrifying!
One good thing came of the key exchange. They were painting their new house, and it got me all excited to buy a house in Utah when we move back. I love the fun of making a house a home. It's different with a rental, when you don't want to do too much to it since it's not yours (and because you'll only be living there for a few months). But it's great to start with a clean slate, choose colours, make changes, and do all that initial work that makes a place your own. We are planning on buying a fixer-upper and really going to town on it. I can hardly wait!
The kids are thriving at school, as per usual. They both love their new teachers, and are getting right back into the swing of things. I have started letting them walk to school on their own, and Dylan especially loves the independence it gives him. Edith isn't allowed to go on her own though, because she is a bit on the flighty side, so if Dylan has a club after school, I go and collect her. It's so nice to only have to get the kids ready in the morning and not worry about getting myself ready as well.
Martin is still loving the job. This career move has been brilliant for him so far. He's having to work weekends at the moment, as they are pushing hard to finish a job, but he still comes home from work happy and never has to go in after his scheduled hours. And he gets paid hourly, so a 50 hour work week is worth it!
So that's the update.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Well that was a weird six weeks...
School is back in session, I am back at work, and...
We sold our house!!!
Well, technically we haven't sold it yet. We are waiting on our solicitors, and theirs, to finish up the paperwork. But we have moved out of 48 Fleetgate and into a nice (albeit much smaller) house just a few streets down on Finkle Lane.
So here's what happened:
Sarah and Hannah loved the house, they made an offer, it was a bit low so we met them half way. They agreed, and we formally accepted their offer. Then a survey was done and we had to reduce the price as their mortgage company demanded a cash retainer from them because of some issues. Not a huge deal--the house IS really freaking old. Annoying, but they were fair about it. We agreed to a completion date, and started looking for a house to rent. We found a house, got that all squared away, then started packing for our move. I got chicken pox (that's right, BLOOMING CHICKEN POX) and didn't feel up to doing much packing. The Mundays came and helped. The Tillings came and helped. Noelle's husband Richard came and helped. The missionaries helped a bit, as well. My visiting teacher and mother-in-law helped me pack up the kitchen. The Mundays helped again, including feeding us dinner when we were too tired to move. Martin worked through it all, putting in 10 hour days on a building site and 5 hour nights moving house. The kids were annoying. My asthma flared up. We finally got all moved out on the seventh of September. The solicitors still haven't completed.
ARGH!!!
I am a bit of an emotional wreck/giant ball of stress. We are in the new house, but there is no storage there and we have a lot of stuff. Granted, I am planning on getting rid of a great deal of it. But for the time being, we are shuffling around it. That first night I crawled over the boxes into our bed and cried myself to sleep, miserable that we were in this tiny house while our beautiful old (HUGE) house stood empty just a few streets away. I love that house. So many happy memories were made there. And now that it's completely empty and clean, I can see just what a great house it really is. I can't stand messes, and the new place will be one for a while until we get some storage sorted out. It feels cramped and messy, and I just want to go home. But we are doing this, and it will be worth it in the long run.
Our plan is to stay in England until around June. Then we will move back to the U.S., find jobs, get settled, and have a little bit of a summer break before the kids start school. We are hoping to buy a house, something that we can fix up like we did here. We are making a decent profit on the sale over here, so it should work out pretty well.
So there you have it--our last six weeks. Pretty mental, huh? So much for relaxing days with plenty of bike rides and picnics and swimming. Instead it was non-stop stress and paralysis, and packing, and denial, and graft. Oh, and a few lie ins as well.
This is just the first step in our journey back to Utah, and while it is incredibly stressful, it is also what we've wanted for over 5 years now. We're excited!
We sold our house!!!
Well, technically we haven't sold it yet. We are waiting on our solicitors, and theirs, to finish up the paperwork. But we have moved out of 48 Fleetgate and into a nice (albeit much smaller) house just a few streets down on Finkle Lane.
So here's what happened:
Sarah and Hannah loved the house, they made an offer, it was a bit low so we met them half way. They agreed, and we formally accepted their offer. Then a survey was done and we had to reduce the price as their mortgage company demanded a cash retainer from them because of some issues. Not a huge deal--the house IS really freaking old. Annoying, but they were fair about it. We agreed to a completion date, and started looking for a house to rent. We found a house, got that all squared away, then started packing for our move. I got chicken pox (that's right, BLOOMING CHICKEN POX) and didn't feel up to doing much packing. The Mundays came and helped. The Tillings came and helped. Noelle's husband Richard came and helped. The missionaries helped a bit, as well. My visiting teacher and mother-in-law helped me pack up the kitchen. The Mundays helped again, including feeding us dinner when we were too tired to move. Martin worked through it all, putting in 10 hour days on a building site and 5 hour nights moving house. The kids were annoying. My asthma flared up. We finally got all moved out on the seventh of September. The solicitors still haven't completed.
ARGH!!!
I am a bit of an emotional wreck/giant ball of stress. We are in the new house, but there is no storage there and we have a lot of stuff. Granted, I am planning on getting rid of a great deal of it. But for the time being, we are shuffling around it. That first night I crawled over the boxes into our bed and cried myself to sleep, miserable that we were in this tiny house while our beautiful old (HUGE) house stood empty just a few streets away. I love that house. So many happy memories were made there. And now that it's completely empty and clean, I can see just what a great house it really is. I can't stand messes, and the new place will be one for a while until we get some storage sorted out. It feels cramped and messy, and I just want to go home. But we are doing this, and it will be worth it in the long run.
Our plan is to stay in England until around June. Then we will move back to the U.S., find jobs, get settled, and have a little bit of a summer break before the kids start school. We are hoping to buy a house, something that we can fix up like we did here. We are making a decent profit on the sale over here, so it should work out pretty well.
So there you have it--our last six weeks. Pretty mental, huh? So much for relaxing days with plenty of bike rides and picnics and swimming. Instead it was non-stop stress and paralysis, and packing, and denial, and graft. Oh, and a few lie ins as well.
This is just the first step in our journey back to Utah, and while it is incredibly stressful, it is also what we've wanted for over 5 years now. We're excited!
Friday, July 17, 2015
News!
Not on the house, unfortunately, but almost as good. Martin has a job!!!
He starts on Monday and will be on a six month contract (through a temp agency) working at a school. Those are the only details I know (plus his hourly wage, but it would be uncouth to disclose that and I am all about being "couth"). I am super proud. He is nervous. We are both relieved.
Today is my last day of work until September, and Martin's first paycheck should come in just after my last one. Thank goodness!
Time to celebrate!
He starts on Monday and will be on a six month contract (through a temp agency) working at a school. Those are the only details I know (plus his hourly wage, but it would be uncouth to disclose that and I am all about being "couth"). I am super proud. He is nervous. We are both relieved.
Today is my last day of work until September, and Martin's first paycheck should come in just after my last one. Thank goodness!
Time to celebrate!
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