New London Blog!

For my new London blog, visit http://lookkids.wordpress.com/

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All of my Canada posts are also over on the new blog as well.

Happy reading! xo

Oh Canada, we miss you.

Can you tell we are in Arizona now?

Everywhere we go in Arizona, there are signs saying to leave your weapons outside. Toto, we are not in Canada anymore.

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We have been on the road (or sleeping in friends' guest rooms) for the past month.  It is really hard to live in limbo for that long.  We have said sad goodbyes to our friends in Canada,

and imported and sold two cars in the U.S. (Note: if you have to reimport and sell two cars, plan some extra time for some extra-frustrating DMV visits, calls to the county and state DMV, and a few extra trips to Carmax.)  

It was great to see Virginia/Maryland/DC friends, and we were able to leave off where we left off when we left 18 months ago.  But the area did not feel like home anymore.  Things were too spread out, we were driving too much, and traffic was bad.  We had grown accustomed to our smaller geographic circle we had built around us in Toronto.  Our life was extra busy and I felt behind.  None of my friends intentionally made me feel this way, but I felt like I hadn't enrolled my children in the proper activities while we were away.  My children spent a lot of time in the park in Toronto.  Kids in NoVa are super busy and several friends couldn't get together because of kid schedules.  My kids aren't swimming yet (so no swim team), can't read fluently (so no GT, I guess :) and don't yet play a team sport. They ski and are learning French, which aren't really NoVa skills, and don't kick the seat when they fly.  I hadn't realized how stressful it was to raise kids in our home area until I was away.  One of my previous jobs was to counsel parents about gifted programs and I don't think I fully realized until this visit how much parenting competition impacts them, even unconsciously.  

One of the best parts of our visit to Virginia was seeing my class that I left midyear to move to Toronto.  They were such a cool group of kids and I was so excited to see them, give them hugs and congratulate them on their accomplishments.  I also realized how much I miss my school colleagues and friends. 

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From all of our business in Virginia (wills and car sales and doctors appointments, oh my!) to a wedding in Cape Cod.  

It was awesome to take a break and have a chance to reconnect as a family and as an extended Janow family.  Sam and Ellie loved hanging out with their cousins Caroline and Ben.  We loved beating the heat on the beach and swimming and playing with our family before moving across the pond.  

Evan and Judy's wedding was awesome and fun and pictures of the whole event are here on flickr. 

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Josh went to London to unpack our house (hooray for Josh!) and I went out to Arizona, which should be its own separate post but I have waited 5 days now to finish this one, and so now you get the last North American update before we fly out.
 As my friend Sean put it, what better to celebrate the Fourth of July in Arizona than missiles? So we went to the Titan Missile Museum since our friends Brad and Ted suggested it. My mom got to turn the key and blow up the secret targets.  

It actually was a fabulous museum and a really interesting way to look at a piece of America's former defense system. Also, it struck me as a colossal waste of government funds (at the time - now it is a non-profit museum). Peace through deterrence may work, but it certainly seems like it costs a lot.  

We have also traveled to the Pima Air and Space Museum, to see what is called the Boneyard.  The Boneyard is actually on the Air Force base where my Dad was stationed after returning from Thailand during the Vietnam War, so this was a cool visit for a number of reasons.  This is where the US government keeps surplus aircraft to use for spare parts for all parts of the military.  There are approximately 4,000 planes, helicopters, etc. here and should you need a spare part for that C-130 you can call these folks up and they can get you that part and send it to you, sort of like the Advance Auto Parts of the US government aviation industry. It was really interesting for my Dad and I, less so for Ellie and Sam (Sam fell asleep on the bus tour).

This is the plane my Dad worked on in Thailand. 

Obviously, Arizona was a patriotic trip in the very red state. It was also filled with Mexican food, trips to Target, swimming and skinny dipping, since Gaga and Papa have a pool in the backyard, and putting on Papa's putting green.  My Dad did not make me listen to Fox news on the radio and we avoided talking about Obama/Romney.  The Safeway where Congresswoman Giffords was shot is close to my parents' house and it is known locally as her Safeway.  Illegal immigration continues to be a hot issue here.  Arizona is so beautiful, with the Catalina Mountains right outside of the house and an ever-changing sky.  The Saguaro cactus is all around and it is like being in a forest of exceptionally old trees, like redwoods, except the trees are not as tall. Ellie and Sam loved looking at them and spotting "good ones," with lots of arms.  

Tuscon is really cool in that it has a lot of local and small businesses.  I went to Antigone books, an amazing small, independent bookstore.  (Not that I need more books, ever.)  I bought turquoise from local craftsmen and ate food from small restaurants.  One thing Josh and I noticed and liked about Canada was the amount of small businesses and we lived on a particularly entrepreneurial street; it is nice to be able to support locally owned business here as well. 

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I began writing again today because I was upset, as I was packing away Sam's Canada shorts and University of Arizona t-shirt, that this is it.  Here we go. Today is the day we actually get on the plane and go. And while I am excited to go and see Josh and get organized in London, part of me wants to still hold my Mom and Dad, and stop by in Virginia, and go to tailgates with my friends in Maryland, and go back to the Canada Day BBQ at Donnybrook Park.  I'm so sad about all of the things I am missing!  I keep telling myself, and the kids, that Canada brought great opportunities. We made great friends, and experienced a new way of life, and it was good for us.  Sometimes, though, you just want home.

Last Things

We have 9 days left in Canada and have been compiling a list of our favorite memories, things, places and experiences.  Some have been written about here, some have been too mundane to share.

• Our trip to Quebec City-Saguenay-Ottawa was our favorite
• Tim Horton's
• Donnybrook Park
• Snow Valley for skiing every Saturday
• our first trip to Blue Mountain
• when our neighbors introduced themselves during the first snowfall by shoveling the driveway
• dinners with girlfriends when dads were away
• Lahore Tikka House
• Ladies' Ski Day
• Ontario Science Centre
• Elmira Maple Syrup Festival
• Canada Day, Easter Egg Hunt in the park
• Loyalist Road

There are probably tons more, but I am about to cry now so I will stop there. I was talking to another parent at Sam's school, one who has lived around the world as well. I told her about how I stood in Dollarama, crying in front of the Canada Day display, and she looked at me puzzled, and asked if I really liked it here that much. I explained that we lived on an amazing street, and we were lucky to have neighbors who were more than neighbors.  One of our neighbors put on a fireworks display for Victoria Day, bought glow necklaces for all of the kids, and another hosted us before and after. Another friend hosts regular Friday night happy hours on her front steps.  The kids play with chalk, bikes, and run around drinking juice and eating pizza.  I understand that we may not find this kind of community again, but I don't regret having moved here to have had the experience of this community.

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In other news, you know the saying that a house does not become a home until you have a birth and a death? Unfortunately, we came a step closer to becoming a home in Canada this week.  Our next door neighbor, Anna, passed away on Friday. She was a fierce woman. She was almost 87 years old, a Catholic Holocaust survivor who was transported out of Poland into Siberia, and then to Jerusalem, and then to Canada.  She made awesome pierogies and traditional eastern European food for many in the neighborhood. She was not shy about her opinions and she was always ready for a chat on her porch.

Our neighborhood will be less without her.

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Our packers arrive on Monday.  We only have a few more days of normality and while I am glad that this waiting period is coming to a close and we are getting on with it already, I am so sad to be leaving this new land that we have grown to love.  In just a short 18 months, we have set down deeper roots than I expected and it is difficult to pull them up again.  

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Looking forward, our pictures of our London house in Chiswick are up on Flickr, as are pics of the Ellie and Sam's school.  Enjoy. 

The Nanny Diaries

For the last two weeks we hired Jackie, a wonderful nanny/housekeeper/helper/chef who helped keep our little family from falling apart while we were getting ready for our impending move.  You know what is no fun? Trying to export a car with a child hanging on you, wanting to play Chuggington. 

You'll recall that our move, at least the packing part, was derailed because of visa issues.* We are now back on track, maybe, and hopefully moving along.  The time with Jackie was well spent, however, as evidenced by the 25 bags of trash on our front lawn below.  Each one was labeled with the appropriate City of Toronto** sticker (at about $3/bag from Canadian Tire) but still much cheaper than a junk service.  Someone picked my trash the day before and took most of the other stuff away, which included Josh's extra set of golf clubs, some toys, rubbermaid bins, etc. I'm sure the neighbors are loving the weekly scenic view. 

We hired Jackie as we knew her from another family on our street. She had a back injury from a prior accident and needed to work with older kids, but had some availability before her next job began, which was perfect for our family.  Jackie had previously babysat for the kids so she knew them, the kids and the other families.  She was able to take Ellie to the bus and Sam to school, and she drove them to swimming as well.  

I don't think I've told you about the nanny culture in our neighborhood. I've hesitated, because it is sensitive and interesting and intimate, and before the last two weeks, I have not had personal experience with a nanny.  Most of the nannies in our neighborhood are Filipina, and have left their families behind in the Philippines, including their children, while they have come to Canada to work.  They send a lot of money back home.  The legal immigration requirement is that they live with a sponsoring family for approximately 2 years until they receive their legal residency and working papers, and then they can work for a different family.  The sponsoring family can pay them less because they are giving them room and board.  It is a situation that some unscrupulous families can take advantage of, and I've heard some terrible stories while I've been here.  These women often work long hours, in varying conditions, and live in crowded apartments. Many can't drive.  The norm seems to be a 4-6 week trip home sometime during the winter once/year if the woman can afford to go and the employer is amenable.    

There are obviously a whole host of issues to discuss here, and one blog or even several couldn't do them justice.  There are racial issues between the nannies, because not all of them are Filipina, and it may affect how playdates are organized.  There are cultural and class issues between nanny and parent. There is the fact that it is a job and employment for the nanny, and not always a labor of love for them as a parent. I think that is often a cause of tension in the employee/employer relationship, because as the employer you want the nanny to act as you would act.  I am one of the only moms in the neighborhood who is at home and so I interact with most of the nannies.  They are a lovely bunch of women who are really good with the children they look after.  I can also say, as an employer, that I was somewhat surprised by the decisions Jackie made.  After thinking about them, I thought they were reasonable (for example, having lunch with other nannies on her last day - it is a normal, work-like thing to do, no?), but was not in my mindset of what a nanny should or would be doing. I could tell she felt strange about it when she returned to the house, but I had figured out what had happened and decided it was fine with me.  

If I was to have a nanny full-time, I would need to set up guidelines for myself about what I would expect. This two-week introduction with a nanny who was really excellent in every regard - great with the kids, she made us amazing food, took care of the house, etc. - also allowed me to reflect on what is important, and what is less important.  It is a job for this person, and so I would have certain expectations about what I would want them to do. At the same time, I would not want to begrudge them some down time or social time in what I know can be an isolating and thankless job.  My friend describes having a nanny as "a business relationship in your pajamas" and as the employer, you have to have the confidence to be in the pajamas to make it work.  

Ribs by Jackie

Personally, it was awesome having Jackie. It was like having a wife. This woman was unloading my dishwasher while I was in my PJs eating breakfast with my kids and drinking coffee.***  She was the one to argue with the kids about TV and breakfast choices as I drifted off towards my next project. She cajoled them into eating and clothes and the bathroom and I... checked my email and threw out their toys.  Sheer joy. 

At the same time, she mentioned that a nanny relationship only works if both parties give themselves to the relationship. I can see that. I like the privacy of my house, though, and I was happy to close the door on Friday and flop on the couch with my kids by myself.  Ultimately, I think that is why it would be tough for me to go with a nanny permanently, at least in this environment.  Even though I really liked Jackie and appreciated her work. 

In an interesting aside, I asked Ellie and Sam which they liked better, being with a nanny at home or being at RCC, their super fabulous child care center in Virginia, and both answered RCC. I thought that was interesting feedback, and as I thought about it more, it made sense, especially for the ages they are at, almost 4 and 6.  They learned to be strong and independent people there, with lots of people who love them, and they learn to love books, and there is no TV, and lots of outside and get messy time, and  tons of friends all of the time, and lots of practical learning like how to sleep on your own and eat (even foods you don't like, like sloppy joes) and clean up and hang up your coat and so much good juicy learning.  Child care can be harder on the parent, because you have to get them up and out, but for my kids, we were able to find a place that still is impacting them, even 18 months after they've left it, which I think is quite an accomplishment.****

Every week, the nannies on our street make the kids banana muffins. Sometimes they put chocolate chips in, sometimes not. They have a lighter mouthfeel than most muffin recipes because of the baking soda but the kids on our street are crazy for them. They always bring them to the park or share them at playdates.  This is Jackie's version. I stood there while she was making them and took notes. 

Jackie's Banana Muffins

3 ripe bananas

1/2 c yogurt (any flavor is fine - she used greek blueberry at my house, because it is what we had)

1 tsp. baking soda *key ingredient

another bowl:

3/4 c brown sugar

1/4 c vegetable oil

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla

1 1/2 c flour

1 tsp. baking powder 

salt

chocolate chips or nuts (optional)

Mash the bananas lightly with a wooden spoon or potato masher. Mix in yogurt and baking soda. Let sit. Mix in another bowl the brown sugar, oil, egg and vanilla.  Mix the flour, baking powder and salt into the first bowl.  Then gently add the contents of the second, brown sugar bowl and stir.  Add additions if desired. Bake at 350 until springy and light brown on top. (Jackie does this by feel.) 

*Our first portion of our visa fun has concluded and we are off to the second portion of visa adventuring, which requires Josh to relinquish his passport. This is like asking him to give up a part of his body right now, and so required careful scheduling and many international emails. It is also requiring us to miss a beloved friend's wedding.  Damn legal requirements. 

**This is only trash, and not recycling. Josh's law school books are going out tomorrow. As are my teaching files, and other assorted paper waste.  Toronto is so super fun with trash collection, I get to wait two weeks to put out my huge piles of trash or recycling. 

***I should say this happened like 2 times, because I started getting up and showering earlier. When a virtual stranger arrives at your door and starts working, you feel like a huge slacker when you don't work too.  One time I was on the phone with Josh working on visa stuff, so I had an excuse. Once. 

****Weirdly, we seem to be lacking good child care in our area, which I think leads to the nannies. Or the long hours lead to the nannies? I'm not sure.  Not a lot of options in any case. 

Ellie's Fairy Party

Here are my long-promised pics from E's birthday party. It was a fairy party. I have birthdays on my mind today because Sam's party is coming up and he wants a frog and butterfly party. Maybe with turtles too. And he picked out a dollhouse that he wants for himself as a present.  Along with trains and other more gender (Meghan, what is the word I want here? typical, no, normal, no, stereotypical, yes) toys.  Planning has begun. (And when does a family in transition fit in a 4th birthday party that is pinterest* worthy?)

(My friend Neeta took the above pic and sewed the crepe paper together to make it ruffly. Apparently you can do that. Yeah Neeta!)

 Fairies eat well. We had magical crisps and fairy fruit wands.  

 We had marsh twigs and fairy dust sandwiches.

 Cake, of course. 

 I actually never took pictures of the best room ever, the fairy room, so Hil will have to send them to me and I will have to post them. But this gives you a glimpse. There were tulle and lights on the ceiling and walls, and it was a pretty awesome room. We made fairy wands, fairy homes in little boxes, and took home fairy dust. All in all, Ellie was happy with the party, I threw it together in about a week with a ton of help from the BEST AUNTIE EVER, and it was fun. That's all that matters.

*Pinterest can be totally stressful. Do you *see* what some of those kid parties look like?  People also have super cute ideas, though, so I also love it.

If You Are An Idiot, Press 1.

I am on hold with the Customs and Border Protection Agency of my great home country.

The menu is hilarious.  I can only imagine how many people call them with ridiculous questions, and I have little hope that my more complicated question will be able to be answered from this help line, but now I have to stay on just to see. There are 17 people in front of me.

I am calling, just so you know, to find out what documents I need to reimport my car at the suggestion of my relocation company agent.  She can't help me unless they ship the car themselves, and we are planning to drive the cars over the border and sell them ourselves before we leave.*  I went on the website she suggested, and looked, but while the Environmental Protection Agency offers a 66 page booklet on how to import a vehicle (the abridged version is 22 pages), there is no quick, easy and clear way to find out what I need.  Oh, Canada, I miss your Service Canada centers already.

I called the number at the bottom of the screen.  I urge you to call it, if only for fun.  877-CBP-5511.  The menu is something like: If you think are wondering if you need a passport to go anywhere outside of the United States, call the State Department. If you are wondering if you can take Aunt Sally's special meatloaf to Canada, call 411 to get the number of Canada's embassy. No, we don't have that number. Please don't waste our time with asking that question.  We don't know that country's regulations. (They actually say this.)  Then they put on a Santana version of slow jazz and update you with the number of people ahead of you. (7 now.)

It isn't enough to make me a libertarian or a tea partier, but it is enough to make me question my fellow citizenry.  Then again, I answered phones for a Member of Congress. I regularly had crazy people call, and it could be pretty entertaining, so in some ways I feel bad that I am bringing a regular problem to the good people of the CBP help line.

I have 2 people in front of me now, so I will have to go.

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Fortunately, the Southern woman I spoke with was nice and helpful, and I was able to get the information I needed. It involves 3+ forms and likely a call/email to the port** as well.  Car importation is a full time job, I tell you. Fun!

Hooray for the US Government!




*This is part of a complicated scheme where you can temporarily bring in your car from your own country, but you can't sell it there and you have to leave with it.  Which would be fine if we were either a. going back to our home country or b. bringing our cars with us. But we aren't doing either, hence the need to reimport them to the US and then sell them there.  Jolly good fun, don't you know.

**Otherwise known as the Lewiston Bridge.

You Make Plans, God Laughs

God is really enjoying himself right now. Peeing in his metaphorical pants, even.

Something I am sure you all know about me: I'm a planner. I don't know if I was always like this, or it came with teaching/kids/moves, but I think I was bossy when I was little and I have to plan things out. Limbo is hard for me.

There was a call this morning at 5 a.m. my time that I should have just participated in because I was up until 1 a.m. thinking about it/reading/surfing the web out of nervousness and then I woke up at 7 a.m. with the thought "check my e-mail." And all visa hell had broken loose. (Not really.)

We are in a delay because the UK Border Agency has a backlog. It sounds like America, so I am sure we will be very happy there.  The people giving us the information from the vendor company were not very specific with details, and, as mentioned before, I need details, so I called the UKBA employer help line this morning to see when things would get going again.  Dan, with his heavy British accent, was very helpful in telling me the backlog may be resolved by May 5. Or not.*

I may have mentioned in previous blogs that we were going to have our house packed up on Monday? Oh, not so much. And that whole "moving out by May 31?" We are hoping they will let us stay a little longer.  Otherwise, we will be homeless, and our stuff will be who knows where, and I will feel some sort of kinship to the guy who lived in the airport all those years, with no home country.

Of course, I have also come up with contingency plans and plans for those contingency plans should they fall through. One of them involved going to India and practicing family yoga. Or having our "temporary housing" be a cottage in the woods in Canada. I am not entirely joking about either of those. Friends and family, we're coming, and we may be staying longer than you thought.

While this delay sort of shot my whole schedule to hell, it also isn't the end of the world. I can't say that I am even cautiously optimistic it will work out, because right now even though Ellie and Sam are enrolled in a school beginning in August we may not have a visa to live there and for them to begin attending this school at that point. But. Some perspective is warranted and this is all part of the adventure, albeit one that I would rather not experience. I would rather experience the kayaking in the fjords of Canada part.

Do they make backpacker backpacks in kid sizes? We may just be hosteling around Europe this summer. You can see it, right? College kids coming back from the bars, Sam with his paci and blanket. We could totally rock that.


*This is just part 1 of the visa process. Then we get to go have our biometric stuff done (I don't know what that is, but they also take our fingerprints and is all high tech and probably because of terrorism), and then we have to send off our passports to the British Consulate in NYC for an unspecified amount of time. Josh travels almost constantly, so finding that window was fun the first time, and I am sure will be a jolly right-o** good time the next.

**British slang is pretty fun. I don't understand Cockney rhyming slang really, but I do like phrases like "Bloody hell" and "Bob's your uncle" and I have been trying to teach Ellie and Sam that, while they don't actually have an uncle named Bob, it is a useful phrase.

The Emptiness of a Still Full House

This week has been a week of getting rid of things. I have thrown away more this week than I think I ever have in my entire life, including the last few weeks of school and teacher work week. I have also found tons of interesting things in weird places.

I have over 15 bags of trash in my garage, waiting to go out next week* (you remember Toronto's excellent and dictatorial trash rules, right?), and I haven't even touched our bedroom, the kids' room, or finished the basement yet.

I have made good progress. Ellie, Sam and I, however, are starting to get itchy. Prickly. My friend commented that our house "feels like a house in transition." Our rugs are being washed at the cleaners, so there is an echo.  We have less stuff, and I've taken some things off the walls, so there is more room for sound to bounce around.  There is more room to play, to run around, to have even more people over. I could have a raging party and fit everyone, which would be awesome.  It wouldn't feel like our house, at least, as it once did.  There are hot pink labels on everything not to be moved, so that we have something to camp out with for the next month.

I used to think that the hardest part of moving was the limbo before everything was solidified, and we knew where and when we were going. I still think that's right - that is the hardest part, because you don't know what to expect next. This part is tricky in a different way.  We're still living in this community we have grown to love, and with people we have connections with, and we have to make our preparations to leave them.  It is starting to hit home for us and for them as our move becomes more of a reality.

The interesting and cool part of this is how our family comes together during this time. We spend more time physically closer together. The kids need me more, not just emotionally but to touch and hug me as well. I need them as well, the reassurance that we are a team and that we will get through this intact, and that we are a family wherever we go.  Josh joins us by facetime or phone daily, or by video or pictures he sends back home when he is gone.

I know now that we will stay drawn together for the first part of our time in our new place, until we are more settled in with friends and in the community.  It is easier here, since we have friends and a community to rely on. It is more difficult in the new place, where we can get on each other's nerves, where our emotions can be magnified and there are different things to accomplish.  On the other hand, there is the thrill of the newness, adventure and discovery around every corner. Ellie and Sam are the perfect age to explore places with, and they are great at noticing new and fun things that we would never notice.

I wish I could relax into the prickly-ness and know that this in-between time won't last forever. It is a special time, the time when you get to say goodbye. I thought I was better prepared for it.


*I will have to post pictures. This is sure to be an amazing sight, my lawn with a moving truck, packers, full of trash with stickers, and neat piles of "extras" all according to the rules and regulations of the City of Toronto. I can't wait!

The Relaxing Life of a SAHM, or, my Nanny Jackie

This week, I am employing a Nanny. Her name is Jackie. She is fabulous.*

Why, you ask?

Well, my packers are arriving on Monday (yes, this coming Monday) and my wonderful, hardworking husband is off eating glorious food/working hard/hopefully not getting sick in Southeast Asia, and I am preparing our home by myself. He will come home to oral surgery and an empty house. This was my scheduling choice, which enables our goods to get to the UK when Josh is actually there to receive them (hopefully) assuming we have done right with the gods of visas and shipping.

Or it could all fall apart. The outlook is still not certain. Anyway, goods will arrive in London at some point  and so will we.  I have been working hard to get rid of teaching materials, things we will never need in the UK, things that will never fit in our house, and basically trying to consolidate our life.

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It was funny this morning when I read this article about the Ann Romney/Hillary Rosen debate over motherhood, which led me to this article by Amy Wilson.  The first time I went to the UK to look for schools, I had to put my occupation. I left it blank. The customs officer asked what I did and after I stumbled over an answer, he helpfully filled in "housewife."

'But that isn't what I am at all!' I wanted to tell him.  I organize international moves for our family! I organize small children for neighborhood Easter egg hunts! I volunteer once a week in my daughter's school!  Like a friend once had for her email signature, I manage chaos and try to have Shalom Bayit (peace in our home).  Do you think the immigration officer would look kindly on me if I wrote "Chaos Engineer on my next form?" I try to cook dinner and create a social life and friends for our family-on-the-move. I don't think all of that can be distilled in "housewife" or "SAHM."  Or maybe those words are just tainted for me with a 1950s, Mad Men type of mentality that does not align with my previously feminist philosophies.  That being said, I do value both my mom and Josh's mom, who were two very different types of moms but both rocked it in their own ways and for their own reasons.  Courage, bravery, strength and love are found with all kinds of mothers, no matter how you work.

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This week I was going through my teaching materials. I am giving away the remainder of my classroom library, and weeding through my professional materials.  It is surprisingly harder than I thought it would be. I was hoping to just have a box or two to take to London. Instead, I was able to get all of our holiday materials into one box, and my teaching materials will probably take up five.  (I just can't give up Fountas & Pinnell.)  I don't know what my professional future holds and I know that Ellie and Sam are especially dependent on me right now. They did not like that there was someone else to pick them up or drop them off, even though they knew Jackie already, she is temporary, and she is amazing.  I miss my students. I miss the interaction with them, planning lessons, teaming with colleagues. I don't miss the work crap, like PLCs or paperwork for the sake of paperwork.  I miss grading parties and happy hours and teacher talk and new babies and the dedication of my colleagues to always getting the best out of their students.

Teaching is full of celebrations and love. I hope I will be able to connect back to it in the UK.

*I will tell you more about nannies in a different post.

Where is the___? Or keeping a stiff upper lip.

I had some time before our flight today and Josh is working so to make things easier for the kids when we move I decided to go take some pictures of the new 'hood this morning before going downtown to the Tate Modern for the Damien Hirsh exhibit. This may make me sound sophisticated and urban cool but you have the wrong sister for that.

In any case, I got off the tube and was faced with our new local grocery store. What better time, I thought, than to get acquainted? I don't have kids with me, it is a huge store, and I can get a sense of the layout.

It was pretty normal, and I was reassuring myself that I wasnt moving to, I don't know, Thailand or something (see, Avery, brands may be different but everything is pretty similar) when all of a sudden I realized something. There was no cream for coffee. (There is milk in bags, in case you are wondering. And fancier milk jugs.) I had noticed that I had been unable to get cream in my coffee during this trip and I relly detest milk in my coffee unless it is a latte. What was the deal? This is a country that serves cream on scones! It has a whole section of the store dedicated to pot desserts (which are not hallucinogenic, but instead like puddings, I think).

Then I found the whole section dedicated to cream. Creme fraiche. Single cream. Double cream. Already whipped cream. I needn't have worried. I will just have to figure out which is coffee appropriate.

One of my most lovely friends also lives abroad, and told me before we moved to Canada that I would have to be like a Mama Duck, and let worries and concerns roll off of me, because the kids, and Josh, to an extent, would follow my lead. It was while walking around today, after the shopping, that the nerves hit me. The "I don't want to go because it is strange and unfamiliar and it is easier to stay put" feeling. My friend's words came back to me, because if it is weird for me, it is even more strange for my kids, and I have to somehow model that I hate that feeling, the transition, the strangeness, but that the adventure is also super cool and an amazing gift we've been given. Very few people get to see the world in the way we have been able to. It doesn't mean it isn't hard sometimes.

For better or for worse, it rains a lot in London so all of those worries should wash right away.

Avery's Adventures in London

I am typing this on my phone. My computer is in Canada. Forgive any errors.

Let me tell you what I learned looking for a house in London. (This is not London, Ontario, Canadian friends.)

1. I am not sure if Londoners want people to sit down. Family rooms, called reception rooms here, are very small and narrow in most cases. We have large, North American, manifest destiny style furniture. We will be getting rid of some of it.

2. Londoners may not want you to sit and visit, but they do want you to cuddle at night. Very few houses could accommodate our admittedly huge King bed. When all four members of your family end up there most nights, though, it is somewhat of a necessity.

3. We did not see as many bidets as I was hoping we would, and the house we liked best was bidet-free. Not that I would have been able to instruct my children in how to use a bidet, but there is always you tube.

4. Cockfosters, the last stop on the Picadilly line, is the new Regina.

5. I saw someone breaking into a car outside of the Canadian High Comission. With a knife and a wire hanger. This is proof we are not in Toronto. (No, I did not say anything because he had a knife and I figured we were outside of the Canadian High Comission and if they don't have cameras there we aren't safe anywhere.)

6. There was a man asking for money outside a tube stop in a lobster costume.

7. Apparently there are no bugs in London. There are also no screens, so your children are free to fall out the window.

8. We saw a sign that advertised "begin clubbing after 30." it was on the Ramada in Ealing. If I was going to begin clubbing now, it wouldn't be at a somewhat suburban hotel outside London. I have to admit, I am somewhat curious about who does attend.

9. Apparently Colin Firth lives in our new hood. I'm sure we'll be besties.

10. There is a sign in the place we ate dinner (a lovely brasserie) that says no drug use in the bathroom, which makes me wonder what was happening in the loo to warrant the sign.

11. They sell clothes in the grocery store here, like Target. And booze.

12. We decided we might become a one car family. I suggested I get a moped with a sidecar (for the kids - you can totally see them rocking the sidecar, right?). Josh countered that we weren't in a cartoon. Coming home, I found the perfect helmet - green with white daisies. It will match my tattoo. And how many moms can say that?

13. I asked Josh if he would rather have a third baby or get a dog. He said neither. I said if we got a dog we could name him President (because he'd be British-born, and never able to be President, ignoring the fact we are discussing a dog); Josh said we'd name him Governur.

We aren't getting a dog. Or having another child. Hopefully we'll have a place to live in London in the next few days.

Trayvon, Sam, America

"If A goes to America, will she be shot?"

This was asked by my friend's daughter, who has a West Indian nanny, after watching some of the coverage of the Trayvon Martin case.

You have to wonder about America sometimes.

******

I get most of my news these days from Facebook, so it wasn't until Trayvon's picture began popping up that I began paying attention.  I had to go to numerous news sources to get coverage; the story hadn't gained traction at that point up here in Canada.  It was hard to get a timeline of events and an understanding of what exactly had happened.  That a boy was thought suspicious, followed and shot. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and carrying tea and skittles.  That there is a law in Florida called "stand your ground." (Query: why do we need Florida anyway?*)

The more important questions: Why did this other person need/have a gun? Why didn't he call the police and let them handle it, if he was truly concerned for his safety? Why are we so distrustful as a society?

******

Yep, all people in hoodies look pretty scary to me. We wear a lot of hoodies in Canada. It is cold here, and we like to cover our heads.  It wouldn't occur to me to think something else.  Rep. Bobby Rush wore a hoodie on the House floor today. He was escorted off because of a rule that says there are no hats  in the house chambers.

Question: Does that also mean no yarmulkes? No head coverings when an Islamic woman is finally elected?

 Bobby Rush in a hoodie, above, and below, without. Just so you can compare. 

******

Now I understand that there may have been a smear campaign about the reputation of Trayvon, and that Zimmerman's supporters are reluctant to speak up.  Compassion is warranted all around.  For a man who shot someone else without thinking about what he was doing.  Compassion for the parents of Trayvon, who have lost a child, and have to suffer that unthinkable loss in the bright light of the media that surrounds this story.

This story is a loss for our country. Not for the families, but for our country as a whole, that we have developed to a point where people feel the need to carry guns to keep them safe, shoot people without confirming they are dangerous, and defending their actions in a media court instead of a court of law.

Lives are worth more than this.







*It is a TERRIBLE state. Hanging chads, stupid laws, corrupt politicians. And DisneyWORLD.

Roll Up the Rim

While there are lots of good questions out there, like when we are moving (June, maybe?), the more consuming issue in our house is, "Are we going to win the camping package from Tim's?"

Josh is barely Canadian, donating his Canada Day t-shirt* and actually driving through a Tim Horton's and not getting coffee during their promotion, Roll Up the Rim. For those Americans too far away to understand what I'm talking about, Tim's runs a contest where you actually roll up the rim of the cup to see if you win a prize, from a free coffee to a new car.  That link is actually incorrect, in that I use my teeth to roll up the rim.  In any case, if you win you rip off the rim to redeem your prize. The first time I won, I brought in my entire cup and faced the disdain of the Tim's clerk.

Ellie is obsessed with Roll Up the Rim, urging me to go to Tim's (like I take any urging!) so we can win the camping package. She also suggested we stop and collect a cup at the side of the road because that could also be the winning cup. My mom also suggested this, which shows the Ellie Apple does not fall far from the tree. (Sam just wants to eat Timbits.)  So far, I've only won 2 free coffees, but it is better than last year, when I only won one free coffee.



*Which is actually fine, because he will be getting pants with maple leaves embroidered on them, like the rest of the gentlemen on our street. Like his hula dancer pants, but Canada-style. Or we could just get these, which also come in shorts and skirts. This is a fabulous pair of pants.

We're moving again. Can you guess where?

Do you know what's wrong with this picture? 

(A young friend glanced at it and commented "It's a Toyota!" 

Well, yes, but that wasn't what I was getting at.)

There are sheep on the side of the road! Between the highway and the airport! Sheep!

Give up? Ellie may need one of these once we arrive. Through the head may be a bit disturbingly big, as is the price tag (around 50 pounds!).

We are off to Jolly Old England. Josh has been given a wonderful work opportunity, and will now be  General Counsel and Chief Administrative Officer for a new division they have just formed within his current company.  This branch of his company will be based out of London, so off we go!  


Ellie and Sam have taken the news surprisingly in stride.  Ellie's initial reaction was, "I don't want to move," but it has been replaced by some interest in her new school, what the houses look like, and particularly, her 6 year old glee that we will have to learn to drive on the wrong side of the street. I think it is understandable for her to note that we will also have moments of transition, change and difficulty.  Hopefully it just doesn't end up in an accident.  Sam is interested because Finn McMissile from Cars 2 is from the UK, so maybe we will run into him.  We've been listening to "Collision of Worlds" from the soundtrack quite a bit. *


My reaction? I am very proud of Josh, and really excited for him. He is very excited.  I am less excited about this:

which, in case you were wondering, is both a washer and a dryer in London. Or this:

Friends, this is a very small fridge. And oven. This oven is not fitting a traditional turkey. I am not sure it will fit a chicken.  Or my cookie sheets. But it is all part of the adventure, and some houses actually do have North American size fridges and ovens, so we'll see what happens at the end of the day. 

The best part? All of the kids on scooters, who scoot around town as their parents walk.  I think it will be cool to explore the Tate, the Tower of London and Kew Gardens, especially with small kids.  I will probably sing "My Country Tis of Thee, Sweet Land of Liberty" every time "God Saves the Queen" is played, staging my own mini-American rebellion every time.  (What do you expect of someone who taught Virginia history?)  Ellie and Sam will get to continue with their French instruction, and practice in France.  We'll get to see friends who are in Europe, and maybe even see the Olympics.  


We are excited for this next chapter. We are so, so very sad to leave another amazing community, but we also know that they will visit us, and we will put on the kettle for them anytime they want to come over. 




*Soundtrack "Collision of Worlds" of Cars 2 by Robbie Williams and Brad Paisley

Lyrics :

At the first sign of the morning light, Old Glory's in the sky
Across the pond, it's afternoon and the Union Jack flies high
We're on our first cup of coffee
We're on our third cup of tea
And we can't pretend to live on different planets, you and me

In this collision of worlds
Watch the new day dawn on a distant shore
In this collision of worlds
Oh you can't sit this out no more

Abbey Road, Route 66, CIA, to the MI6
Right lane, left lane, Metric, Imperial
Pounds, dollars, howdy, cheerio!
A v8 growls, to a v12 screams
Hail to the chief, God save the Queen
Cops, bobbies, tabasco, wasabi, pistachio ice cream!

In this collision of worlds
Well it's too late and you can't stop it now
In this collision of worlds
Yeah find you a place and just watch it now

Well you're a good ole' boy
Yeah you're a decent bloke
I say it's irony, I say it's a joke
When I look around, now I can see
We ain't so different, you and me

Meat and potatoes, burgers and mash
Dollars, pounds, dosh, cash
Audobon, to the riding sun
The I10, to the M1
Congress, Parliment, President, The Queen!
Petrol, you say gasoline
Now grab your bird, and get your girl
Now its a small world

Collison of worlds
Watch the new day dawn on a distant shore
In this collision of worlds
No you can't sit this out no more
In this collision of worlds
It's too late and you can't stop it now
Collision of worlds
Find you a place and watch it now

Skiing and Ladies Ski Day - Winter 2012

*

I heart skiing.

Josh never thought he would hear those words!!!  We've been going up to a little hill suggested by our friends about an hour away from our house every Saturday.  Ellie and Sam love to ski. LOVE it.  Ellie proclaims she is better than me but I am trying hard to stay in front of her.

She is pretty good, though. And Sammy is getting better, going up the "big" lifts, if any lifts in Ontario can really be called big.

Josh is skiing with some friends in Vail this weekend, and we are going to meet some family in Vermont in a few weeks to end the season. It is a far cry from where we were a few years ago, driving up to Ski Liberty, with me grumbling the whole way and chasing after Sammy in the lodge.  My goal this year has been to be able to go down blue runs with less fear and more speed, which I have mainly been able to do. We've been somewhat hampered by terrible snowfall, so most of the snow has been manmade.

Friends, I will let you in on a little secret of skiing in Canada. Ladies Day.  (Gentlemen, they also have Men's Day**.) My friend is a member of a private ski club, which is a concept which is fairly unique to Canada, I think, but it is just like any private club, except for skiing. At ladies day, for the price of a lift ticket and a bit more, about 200 women were given lone access to a hill for a day. It came with a complete breakfast, mimosas, lunch, wine, swag bag, special club jacket, complimentary mani, pedi or mini-massage, and lessons.  They also had vendors on site if you wanted to do a bit of shopping, a DJ, and fabulous raffle gifts, including a trip to Banff.  There was no waiting for lifts. No small kids zooming past you on skis, almost knocking you over. The club she belongs to is a hidden gem, about 45 minutes from where you live. You know it is a great day when two very drunk women ski past you, telling you that "skiing is always better after a few glasses of wine!" The skiing was amazing and fun and I also was able to take my first skidoo ride with this kind gentleman.  It was a bit scarier than I thought.

My friend and I have been skiing together. She is still learning and has been super brave about taking up a sport her children are learning.  She has been taking lessons, taking things at her own pace and having a good time with it.

I think that is what most of our time has been like in Canada - slowly stretching ourselves into new directions and into new adventures, and most of them, like skiing, have been really fun. Sometimes they have been a bit more difficult, but always interesting.

*Hilary had to have another biopsy recently, which was scary. It was clean and cancer-free, so a big cause for celebration around here!
**Apparently Men's Day many involve some sort of barely clad women. There has been no confirmation from any men on this point.

Happy things about Toronto

I am strangely sad today so I will list some happy things about Toronto for you.

• Calling 311.  When you dial 311, like my darling husband did last night, a real, live person picks up. Immediately. Without even putting you on hold or making you listen to a menu of options.  Then they help you answer a detailed question. (Ours was about trash, of course.)  J was shocked at how helpful they were. That's Toronto!
• No strike. Municipal workers almost went on strike this week. It was averted. It would have meant hockey rinks would have closed down, and now they won't.  And trash wouldn't have been picked up, except in our area, because ours is contracted out.
• Trash plays an important role in the average Torontonian life.
• Regina (pronounced like the body part, yes, that one) means Queen in Latin. It is actually on all of our coins here. It means that my friend, who works for the Department of Justice, or equivalent, is actually Regina's lawyer. I find this hugely funny.  Also, all court cases are Regina against (they don't use versus, I don't remember the exact wording), and they wear robes. Which means, I guess, that the lawyer representing Regina could be naked, I guess. Which could be EVEN more hilarious. (Normally/Usually they wear pants or business attire, I'm told.)
• Ellie slept in her own bed last night. Ellie and Sam decided they needed to sleep with their beds bunked.  Ellie is on the top bunk and Sam is on the bottom bunk. They are pretty funny in the same room together.  They wanted to do it, though.  
• Tim Horton's Coffee - I love it. I don't love the new cup sizes - very confusing! I do love the coffee. Happiness in a cup.
• Ellie and Sam's teachers - they have delightful teachers.  Even though one speaks a language I haven't yet learned, they are happy in their jobs and with children.  
• Donnybrook Park - the park was crowded yesterday with parents, nannies and kids since it was so warm up here! It was fun to watch everyone run around. (I heart our street!) 
• Paul's ice rink - even though it has not been very cold, our neighbor has his own backyard ice rink, and we get ice updates via email.  It is very Canadian. 
• Skiing - I love skiing so much it will get a separate post.  Ellie and Sam are doing so well!
• J, who is finally home after his first round of long travels. Hooray!
• My new gym, with N, who is a drill sergeant who would make Paul Regino proud. With a heart of gold, and lots of enthusiasm and love for me. 
• Tim Horton's again. I really love this coffee. The convenience of the drive-thrus. The ease of ordering (no soy milk!).  
• Widow's dinners. 

I am now not sad anymore. Thanks for being a part of my day. More next time! xo

Why are you home?

I was walking with Ellie and a small friend of ours and he innocently asked,

"Avery, why are you home?"

Implying, of course, why am I home when his mom is at work? Why does he have a nanny and my kids don't? Why does the world work the way it does where some moms work and some don't?

I explained to him that before we moved to Canada I did work, just like his teacher, in a school.  That jobs were hard to get in Canada, and I tried. And it didn't work out, and I'm home for now and the near future.

What I really wanted to say, though, was, "I don't know, little dude. I just don't know."

I don't know how I got to this place in my life where I am a stay-at-home-mom. It is not a role that sits easily or comfortably on me.  I like to read Martha Stewart. I am certainly not Martha Stewart.

I am a teacher, preferably of other people's children. I have patience with them, because they don't crawl into bed with me at night and I don't listen to their sibling rivalry while I cook dinner.  I like to observe their intelligence.  I love their idiosyncrasies.  I enjoy talking "teacher talk" incessantly at social functions, much to my husband's dismay.

I would probably be fired if I was audited for my stay-at-home-ness.  I would like to outsource most of my day to day tasks and would if I could afford to, including things like: emptying the dishwasher; putting laundry away; dishing out goldfish crackers; budgeting; opening the mail; taking out the trash; emptying luggage after a trip (we need a trip fairy!); watching Cars 2.  I could use a small army of elves, or perhaps a butler or lady's maid.  I enjoy: grocery shopping, volunteering in classrooms/schools, cooking, reading with my kids, hosting playdates, the flexibility of stay-at-home life.

I miss work. I do not miss the crazy hectic life of trying to balance it all.

I don't know if it would be easier or harder to work in a different country, and if the parenting-work balance would be calmer.  Women seem to manage better here.  Policies like one year of maternity leave, on the surface, seem to help.  Yet it appears, at least in my neighborhood and at my children's schools, that women are the primary caregivers; they are the ones picking up the kids and volunteering.  To be fair, we had a family in the neighborhood just leave for Abu Dhabi. For her job. She has a seven month old.  (And a preschooler.)

I have to go now. I have to color a book. Then bathe 2 small, squirmy children. Then read to them, and convince them that sleep is a necessity worth their while.

Ellie at 6

I got peed on in my sleep last night. Not by J. Luckily.  S is still sneaking, ninja-spy style into our bed, and I woke up in what smelled like a urinal in Bryd Stadium during the fourth quarter.

Before kids, I would have thought after 6 years of parenting that I would have been through this already. I would have thought that my children would have both been fully potty trained, including at night, and that S would no longer use his paci at night.  I would have thought that, while the early years would have been tough,  I would have been through them by now.  This older me laughs and gently mocks that younger and more naive me when her back is turned while she is trying to nurse a new baby with a toddler hanging around.

J does not get peed on, by the way.  He mysteriously stays dry, while I just try to find a dry spot on my pillow (because you don't think I got up, do you? sleep is hard to come by, people).  

E celebrated turning 6 years old a few weeks ago.  Looking at her, I can't believe she is six.  I can't believe she started life outside of my body at almost 7 pounds and now she is a French-speaking, Wii-playing kindergartener.  She is capable of pouring her own milk, going to the bathroom on her own (mostly) and tries to teach S various things she probably shouldn't.  She is mischievous and funny and loving.  She is learning how to stand up for herself.  E is proving to be an awesome skier and I'm hoping she learns to swim to the end of the pool by the end of the school year.  In many ways, she is mirroring her toddler years - she goes to do something independent, and then is still very needy, cuddly and needs a lot of reassurance.  

Parenting continues to surprise me at how hard it is every single day.  I keep thinking that I will be good at it.  Maybe this week will be the turn around!  Mostly E and S are fine, and it is my own expectations that I am failing to meet. I am not reading to them enough, they watch too much television, they bicker with each other too much.  Then I try to do a reality check and tell myself that everything is a continuum and that they are well within the normal range on everything, and not every day is going to be perfect.  

And let's be honest, folks, how much can one adult play ________? You can really fill in the blank with any children's toy. I would rather play with a cardboard box than most toys. Actually, I got in trouble with J for buying E this cardboard box for her birthday.  

J and I talked with E over the past few weeks about how hard it is to be the oldest kiddo.  She gets to stay up late with us sometimes, and talk to us, but she also has to be the test case for a lot of our parenting mistakes, and be the responsible one.  Both J and I commiserated with her on how hard it is, and how well she does at being kind to S and teaching him the right things to do.  

Six years ago, I was up every few hours. She couldn't talk, or laugh, but I loved her so much! Now, she is sharing when she is hurt, and what she wants, and sometimes she has an attitude I would find hilarious if I were not her mother.  E is a delight, in every way. We are so lucky to have such a great kid as our daughter.