Sep 30, 2011 | A Repat, Baby Photos, Stories
Have you ever heard of a nursing strike? Like, when a baby basically decides they won’t breastfeed for some reason? Well around these parts, the Tank has enacted a napping strike, which (in our case) is when a baby who used to nap very nicely decides once the clock hits the 30 to 45 minute mark, sleep is done. And this baby who was taking 3 or 4 good hour and a half naps a day is no longer giving me a chance to read a chapter, or shower, dry my hair and get dressed.
It ain’t purty.
In other news, the internet was out for two days, hence things being quiet here. And. It came back on, and that evening I was planning to catch you up on the life and times of this here expat-repat, and do you know what? It sure enough decided it was time to stop working again.
Weren’t too purty either.
{I should warn you I’m writing this tired and the southern comes out when I’m tired. Alright y’all? Let’s move on.}
In other news that’s a lot better, we actually did achieve those little photographic missions I was hoping to accomplish just before, and upon, our arrival. The photos from London aren’t ready yet, but the arriving photo I was hoping we’d capture is hot off the presses.
In case you need a reminder, this was when the Bear met G-pa, back in Cape Town airport in 2008:
And I hoped we could snag something similar, right here at Raleigh-Durham International Airport, September 2011.
And we did!
See?
G-pa opted for the purple, instead of the yellow hat on this occasion, which was nicely complemented by the Tank’s yellow onesie. We didn’t even plan that. And like the Bear, the Tank was equally impressed with G-pa’s hat.
Another very special reunion/introduction ensued, after a wee car drive to eastern North Carolina.
Very exciting, and rather different from when G.C. met the Bear:
because he was only a few days old, but Blakey already had six month notches (now seven!) under his belt. Or on his onesie. Or etched into his crib. But we sold that. Ahem.
So the news in a nutshell is: the Bear loves preschool, the Tank loves solid food but doesn’t like napping, Hero Hubs officially starts work next week, and I’m still feeling a bit loopy getting settled in to life here again. And I think it’s gonna take a while.
But I’m thinking I’ve got a while.
And that’s good news, too.
xCC
Sep 27, 2011 | A Repat, Stories
I‘m in the middle of a couple of good books at the moment. I grabbed one of them off my sister’s bookshelf, and she’d made notes in it that make me feel like I’m getting to read it with her, even though she’s many-a-mile away in Colorado. Special treat. She has a great sense of humour. Or humor, since she’s American. So am I.
My own thoughts still feel like a bit of a jumble at the moment…like I’m struggling a little bit to get a grip with the new reality. It reminds me of a dream I had the other night that seemed so certain and so real, I woke up and wondered where my ferret was. I have never owned a ferret. And I don’t think I ever will own a ferret. But I woke up from the dream with the cuddly little white ferret, it may or may not have had a collar, and the first thought in my mind in those waking moments — troublesome, loud and important was:
Where’s my ferret?
The good books I’ve been reading have had some good thoughts I thought were more mention-worthy than my imaginary ferret.
{A bookshelf at Se7en’s house!}
I’ve been challenged by these words: “Andrew is the one who taught me that what I believe is not what I say I believe; what I believe is what I do.” This reminds me of some definitions of integrity I’ve heard, and makes me thankful for grace.
“Jesus didn’t value what people thought; he valued people, period.” This is an incredibly freeing statement for me. I need to internalize this wisdom.
I’ve also been thinking about Mark 11, and Jesus deciding to make that triumphant entry into Jerusalem, not long before He died, on a donkey. I’m sure His disciples would’ve been willing to put on a show for Him — a big jazzy parade with flags and loud music, maybe even some people to toss figs and dates to the crowd. He could’ve had strobe lights and fog machines if He wanted. Or at least bubble blowers to make all the children giggle.
But He opted to go the road low. And I’ve been thinking about Him leading the way, in that way, and what that might mean for you and me if we want to follow His lead. Hmm.
I made a second trip to the grocery store, and once again enjoyed seeing exactly three people I knew. I kept the list short and thus avoided the fog of too many decisions at once. In case you ever plan on making a transcontinental move, I highly recommend taking the engagement with grocery shopping S.L.O.W.
We don’t quite have our routine and rhythm yet, but I’m hoping making a meal plan for the week will help. And I’m hoping Blakeyboo will decide sleep is awesome and he wants more of it. And I’m hoping to get a grip with reality again, so that my heart and my brain can focus for a decent length of time, and enjoy clear time in the presence of the Lord, and share encouraging thoughts and revelations here.
Until then, if I ask you where my ferret is, just remind me I don’t have one.
xCC
P.S. Want to take a stab at what two books those lines might be from? Two hints: free and Blue.
Sep 19, 2011 | A Repat
Oh friends, life is so strange and so beautiful. My throat is so sore and my voice is nearly gone, the Bear’s nose is running off his face and he probably won’t be able to go to preschool tomorrow, but thankfulness is in my heart and it is well, so well, with my soul.
Today we took the Bear to preschool for the first time (pictures to come) and although he had a pout face when I came to fetch him, being the dramatic character he is, I think he rather enjoyed it. It was such a special first, and so strange to be hurled into it so soon after arriving. But is was so good!
{The Bear, early 2009 (exactly Blake’s age now) — but wasn’t that like, yesterday? And, wowzers, doesn’t Blakey look like this now?! He wore that onesie yesterday! Little snug.}
Blake the Tank had his first trip to Walmart today. He fell asleep in his baby carrier, gently placed in a shopping cart, so for a long time, we walked around looking at all the stuff we don’t need to let him sleep. The twenty dollar crock pot was calling my name but I stayed strong. The $3 plastic golf club set, however, that we couldn’t resist. {A lot of the Bear’s toys are across the ocean and who knows when they’ll get here!}
I drove the car with the Bear as my passenger today, and since I never drove in South Africa {long story}, I think it might’ve been for the first time, just the two of us. I picked him up at preschool and as we approached the car, the conversation went like this:
The Bear: “Where Dada?”
Me: “He’s at home with Blakey, because Blakey’s taking a nap. We’ll see him when we get there.”
Bear: “Mama ih’ driving?”
Me: “I am, my boy, isn’t that special!?”
Bear: {Big grin and a nod.} Perhaps followed by a look of slight concern.
{Fortunately the drive went okay!}
In unrelated news, I almost drove on the left side of the road for the first time today.
We taught the Bear to swing a golf club for the first time today. Here’s to following the many great South African golfers who’ve gone before him: win the Masters and buy your Mama something special, buddy! Alas, he was more interested in pulling the empty rolling plastic golf bag around.
My Mom’s friend dropped off a Chocolate Merengue Pie. First time I’d tried hers. Best. Ever. Had to be mentioned.
Along with those extra special firsts, the oddities of being back here have continued. I’m still thinking about all the people I want to see {and the places I want to make sure to eat} before we have to leave again. I’ve seen people I know literally everywhere I’ve gone today. And I went a lot of places. I forgot what that was like. {Love it.}
The size of a standard sheet of paper looks funny and I want to get in on the passenger side to drive the car. And I haven’t found Rooibos tea anywhere yet and I’m getting a little nervous! And I’m busy trying to decide what words to use to communicate things, based on who I’m speaking to. Examples:
Is that the mailman or the posty? And is he delivering the mail or the post?
Can I still nip to the loo, or should I start going to the bathroom?
Did we push around a trolley or a shopping cart at Walmart?
And do we need to get a cell phone or a mobile contract?
However it needs to be translated, and whether or not I’ve got the voice to say it aloud, I sure am glad to be right here. And here for a while. And that is not a first.
The End.
xCC
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