High Anxiety!*

Mel had a great idea for a post (for more on this see Prompt-ly!)- consider the thing you are most anxious about and then consider the thing you are most sure of right in this moment. I think this question is especially timely for me as I transition back to the USA from Japan. Not only do I find myself wondering about our decision to travel back and forth with such frequency, but I find myself wondering about how I could possibly have a career again (something I'd like to try to do) while bouncing back and forth.

The one thing that I am most sure of in the midst of all this, is that returning to Seattle right now is the best, most *right* thing we could possibly do. This is really a personal opinion although I do suspect that it's a very beneficial thing for the girls as well. (In fact my oldest told me that while she's sad to be leaving her friends in Japan, she was really looking forward to seeing her Seattle friends. And since our return she has told us several times that she's happy.) I just can't imagine staying in Japan full-time. I know that my husband would be happy if I'd consider this as a possibility, but he isn't pushing for it by any means. Still, he is pushing for a continuance of the 6 months here and 6 months there lifestyle. As I looked around our house at all the things that need to be moved around to make way for us again (we stored a bunch of things while renters were here), it nearly overwhelmed me yesterday. "I have to move that stuff again?" We've moved some of this stuff around 6 times in the last 3 years (once before going and once upon our return for the last 3 trips). It's starting to feel like we're on a hamster wheel and just can't off. But I know for sure that being here right now will fulfill my soul. It will recharge me in a way that living in Japan just can't. I get to reconnect with friends who speak English. I get to bake in my own kitchen. I get to sleep in my own bed. It's heavenly and we've only been here for a few days.

*I keep hearing the lyrics for this song in my head. Mel Brooks, Cloris Leachman, Madeline Kahn, Harvey Korman - this was good stuff!

Change of Scenery

I'm not even sure how to describe the last week. First we heard about the earthquake. An 8.9?! Then the tsunami. Then the news about the damaged nuclear reactors began to reach us. Little by little a bad situation became worse and then it got about as bad as it could get. Nuclear meltdown? Here? Really?

Okay -not here. We're down near Osaka which is still very far away from Tokyo and even farther away from the Fukushima power plant. The likelihood of our experiencing any nuclear radiation here is pretty slim. But. It's there and in light of the incredibly vague information provided by the power company and government in the early days of this crisis, combined with the sensationalized media in the U.S., my family and friend and I were worried. Gboy is admitting now that he was worried, but for the past week and half has been "stoically" Japanese reassuring me that nothing bad would happen and that we could safely stay.

Still, by Thursday night I'd had enough of sitting around waiting for Fukushima Dai-ichi to get a handle on the situation with the reactors - no power to them, no way to cool them successfully - after nearly a week it felt ridiculous to sit around and hope that things would suddenly resolve. Furthermore, by that point, the U.S. State Department had officially stated that their position would be to "encourage Americans to consider leaving Japan" - not Tokyo, but JAPAN.

Gboy finally agreed that perhaps a vacation somewhere else might not be a bad idea at least for a couple of weeks. It's spring break for Peanut now. "Why not go to Hawaii?" he said. We've talked about it for years. Even came close to going once upon a time almost 5 years ago (ahem - that would have been our honeymoon). But for a variety of reasons we never made it there. I'm trying to envision this as the honeymoon we never had, albeit with a preschooler and infant in tow this time. And naturally the price isn't what we would have liked. Going last minute is never ideal. But I figure you can't put a price on your health - not really. We'll be free from the threat of radiation from Dai-ichi for a couple of weeks and already my family is breathing easier.

In an interesting contrast, my mother-in-law is embarrassed to tell anyone that we're leaving. It's bad form to flee this crisis apparently. Also, the American government (and me by extension I suppose) is over-reacting by Japanese standards.

But I can't stay here right now. *I* need some room to breathe. All of this "suck it up" and "gaman" (perseverance basically) is wonderful on the one hand. On the other, it's downright silly if you ask me. Why more people aren't asking questions "Why did it take so long for the nuclear plant to hook up the electricity to the cooling pumps last week?" "Why is the government unable to provide food, blankets and aid to survivors of the quake/tsunami?" These kinds of questions seem like no-brainers to me. But I know that questioning authority is not how the Japanese do things. My husband describes his experience of school here and how frustrated he was when he didn't understand a concept. He'd ask the teacher the questions that would gain him understanding while every other student in the class sat there mutely; many of them would thank him after the fact because his questioning had enabled them to learn as well. *sigh* I'm not saying that the American way of schooling and questioning authority is better. It's just different and in these kinds of situations it seems that some questions need to be asked.

Anyway, I'm hoping that getting a little distance while give us the fresh start that we need. Right now our plan is to return here in early April, in time for Peanut to start yochien again. I'm really looking forward to a fresh start.

There's Bento in Our Future!

One of the things that Peanut will need to take with her to yochien/preschool starting in March, is a lunch - specifically a bento. I know what bento is in theory. And I've even seen a lot of neat ideas for multicultural and fusion style bentos, but I'm certainly no expert on strictly Japanese bento making. But this seems to be pretty important to people (i.e. the school director, and our sister-in-law who sends her children to the school and in her opinion the other children at the school). Now I'm not sure how to address this.

I'm all for learning how to make Japanese style foods and making a bento for Peanut each day, particularly since I know that my husband, an excellent cook, will help me. But I'm concerned about how that will happen since my mother-in-law is in the kitchen all morning (most mornings) making a big farm-style Japanese breakfast with miso soup, broiled fish, assorted vegetables, tsukemono, and the like and if she's done with cooking breakfast she's often starting on lunch or dinner preparations. With only one modest kitchen, I don't foresee an easy way for me to get into the kitchen as I often have to dance around her just to make myself a cup of coffee in the morning. However, I don't want her to feel that she should (because she's most experienced) or must (because I'm unwilling) make Peanut's lunch every day. And yet, I suspect it may go that way if we don't figure something out in the next month or so.

At least I've got some lead time to start practicing making these fabulous and elaborate lunches! Honestly I'm sort of excited about the possibilities, especially if I get to mix it up and toss in some Western style (or at least non-Japanese) foods now and then. One of the things that I don't want to force on Peanut is a mostly Japanese diet. I know that's something that a lot of people around us feel comfortable with, but it's not something that I'm comfortable with doing. We don't expect her to eat a mostly American or Western diet when we're in the U.S. - she's used to eating foods from all over (Indian, Greek, Mexican, Italian, Thai, Japanese, and on and on). If I can sneak in the occasional samosa or couscous or macaroni and cheese I'll be happy!

Re-entry

I had a near meltdown the other day. I thought I'd lost my wedding ring and then I couldn't find a gift for Peanut's birthday. Neither instance in and of itself would normally cause me to lose it so easily. But mash it together with re-entry culture shock? Yup.

Just that morning I'd gone to look for my ring and couldn't find it where I would "usually" keep it here in the bedroom we stay in at my in-law's place. But I couldn't find it. Which would not surprise you if you could have seen the stuff all over the place. Piles of my stuff -the girls' stuff - my MIL's stuff - my SIL's stuff. Because all of us have to use this space throughout the year and it collects everybody's stuff until there's no clear space for my stuff or the girls' and I just end up snagging a spot on a shelf if I can. Until 2 days ago, most of our stuff was all over the floor or on tabletops in the room where I could at least see it and knew where it was even if it wasn't what anyone would reasonably call "organized". (We have since then seriously reorganized and cleaned up and started to box up really old stuff from grandma and great-grandma to make some space.)

Anyway, on this day last week, we left for the store in search of a birthday present for Peanut and I was struggling to cope with the possibility that I'd lost the ring for good. We got to the store and headed for the toy department. And found nothing. Oh there were aisles and aisles of branded, flashy stuff for older kids especially. But I was hoping for something that didn't have Disney or Hello Kitty or other countless Japanese brands/characters all over it. I was hoping for something age appropriate for a 3 year old. There may have been a few items in the store that met this criteria, but as my Japanese is fairly limited (particularly when reading it) I was totally unsure. I became more and more discouraged about finding anything I wanted and finally gave up.

At this point, the re-entry crash and burn occurred. I'd reached that seemingly inevitable moment when my frustration with my own limited language abilities collided with the limitations of the living situation in which we reside etc. and suddenly I was nearly weeping in the middle of a large train station as the culture shock rocked me. I always know it's coming at some point, but never know exactly when or how it will manifest.

Ugh. In the end I came home and dug around under piles of stuff and finally found the ring. What a relief. And the gift itself isn't that important. Peanut will survive without. It's the process and the accompanying frustration ("Why can't they just describe everything in English?! Ohhhhhh. Because we're in Japan. Duh.") that really messes with my head.

They Paved The Cherry Blossoms

While you can't really see it in this photo, after you cross the street at the end of this path, there used to be a section of the road straight ahead lined with cherry blossoms on either side. They're in full bloom in this photo and mostly a blur of pink in the distance. I walked home this way today and was amazed yet again at how barren the area looks now that all those trees have been removed to make way for some sidewalks. Because I'm a pedestrian and public transportation rider, this works in my favor. But the cherry blossoms sure were prettier.

Even worse, the field that used to take up half the block on one side has now been turned into an industrial building (very common in this neighborhood) and a big parking lot adjoining the building. I'm not even sure what or who the parking lot is intended for since it was empty today - the first time I've seen it.

*sigh* Change can be hard to witness.

Language in a Transition

The transition from living in the U.S. to living in Japan (and vice versa) never ceases to amaze me. Once again we're back in Japan and things are different once again. I think living with a toddler (okay Peanut is really a preschooler now!) only highlights differences that I wouldn't otherwise see. Because she is constantly evolving and growing as a person, each transition thus far has been a unique one. Upon arriving here in Japan just last week, we once again reminded my in-laws that they could speak Japanese and Peanut would have no trouble understanding them. It may take a little while for her to feel comfortable enough to reply to them in Japanese as English is currently her dominant language (no surprise since we've spent the last 9 months living in the U.S.). But Gboy has continued to speak to her in Japanese and comprehension isn't an issue for her. Still, my MIL and FIL attempt to address her in English (neither of them is particularly comfortable with English) and to admonish her to speak in Japanese. Luckily this isn't an issue with either of my sisters-in-law or brothers-in-law; they simply address her in Japanese.

One of the frustrations I have is that my FIL in particular can't seem to understand that Peanut understands Japanese. He had friends over yesterday and when they asked if Peanut understands Japanese he said, "a little". "No. Not just a little," I wanted to say. She understands as much Japanese as she understands English. But he seems to think that since she speaks mostly English that's all she can understand. I sort of see why he would think this, but we do live with her every day and have a pretty good sense of her abilities. If we say she understands Japanese, then she does!!

But ultimately what this post is about is how difficult it is to be a parent and to stand by and watch your child struggle to master something. Peanut is learning to master two languages and in a sense, two cultures. Each community and culture has a set of social protocols that she has to adapt to in addition to becoming proficient in each language. On the first day we were back, a friend of Gboy's came over to the house with his daughter who is just a year or two older than Peanut. They've played together in the past, and Gboy seemed to think they'd fall immediately back into a rhythm. But the older girl now has a 1 year old sister to tote around and play with and the language barrier was clearly an issue. Peanut stood to one side and looked on with some trepidation and I could tell that she was frustrated because the girls couldn't understand her non-stop English dialogue. Also, while playing with her cousins, she gets frustrated when she asks them to share with her or explains to them that she'd like for them to wait for their turn rather than take her toys from her, but since she's speaking in English they don't understand. And I know that allowing Peanut to be frustrated, to a point, can be a good learning opportunity particularly when we explained the situation to her (i.e. "your friends don't understand English"). In time, it will come. Peanut will figure out how to use her Japanese with more folks here. In fact, just a few days after this incident she was playing with a group of girls of a similar age and language didn't really seem to be an issue at all.

However, in the meantime, watching Peanut struggle to communicate with my MIL and FIL and to communicate with her friends is a new parental milestone for me. I didn't grow up as a multilingual speaker and don't really have first-hand experience with what this all feels like from a child's perspective. I just have to trust that it all makes sense to her (or will in time) and that the benefits far outweigh the costs.

Riding the Hormone Roller Coaster

I woke the other morning from a dream in which I was crying and I found myself actually, physically crying. And then I was sobbing. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed by a number of questions and doubts about our life here in Japan, about our attempt to live a bicoastal/bicultural life, about our second baby - you know the "little" things!

I was amazed at how powerful the emotions were and at the same time I realized that the extent to which I was crying sort of outweighed the feelings I was having. Good old pregnancy hormone roller coaster strikes again!

I confess I'm really, really looking forward to our return to the U.S. as I'm feeling a strong desire to be in my own home and comfort space as I finish this pregnancy. I'm tired of living in someone else's space and eating someone else's food and feeling like it's just too hard to carve out space (literal and figurative) of my own. And I'm feeling a very strong desire to nest, in a way that I truly didn't feel during my first pregnancy.

So in case you were wondering, that's where I'm at emotionally these days. On the edge...but holding on. Just 24 more days.

And Now for Something...Meatier

I've spent the last 24+ hours trying to put a less than stellar (one might say "traumatizing") OB appointment behind me. I mentally drafted and re-drafted the post that would describe how unpleasant it was and the more I thought about it, the more it frustrated me. I don't want to come off as melodramatic or anti-Japan. And so, I've chalked up most of my frustration with the appointment to cultural differences.

When I was in graduate school (the first time when I was studying public affairs and policy as opposed to the second time when I was studying library and information science - I know. Two degrees?? What was I thinking. But whatever..) I took a few public health classes that I really enjoyed. In one of the classes we spent some time talking about successful public health campaigns and especially, how to reach "under-served" populations. From the perspective of the USA, one under-served population as you might imagine, is those people who are non-English speakers. Having been on the other side of the Dr.'s desk, so to speak, I now understand why. I mean, I got it conceptually, while I was in school. And I thought that improving the "cultural competence" of medical staff sounded logical.

But now I see how vital cultural competence truly is; it's not just a buzzword or politically correct token effort. Because if I didn't have a husband willing to go with me to these appointments, I would just stop going to see the doctor here in Japan. The frustration I experience, the embarrassment, the confusion - none of it feels worth it during a pregnancy that I feel is routine. Naturally, I'm no doctor and could be wrong about my own condition or that of the baby, but I'm telling you, even with husband to take me, I don't want to go back. I don't feel any sense of understanding or compassion or accommodation from the staff of a fairly large and modern hospital system. Instead, I get what I can only assume is the routine treatment and I'm just supposed to go with it. Accept that this is "how things are done here" and that's it. I understand that the situation might be a little different if we'd chosen a hospital or clinic in a more urban area, but as I said, this one is pretty modern and I figured it wouldn't really matter since in the 2nd trimester you mostly get weighed, have an ultrasound and call it good. I didn't expect that they'd want to see me every 3 weeks, nor did I expect things to get as "invasive" as they've gotten.

But I've decided it's just not worth it to dwell on it. Instead, I'll take from this experience only the parts I want to remember and I'll just do my best to block out the rest. So..... Turns out they think I'm a little iron-deficient (just barely below the cut-off for "regular" standards here) and I'm taking this as a sign. A sign I tell you. I am MEANT to have the Big America "New York" burger at McDonald's. I missed the Texas burger, but I won't be missing the beef in the New York burger you can bet on that! And that California burger looks yummy too. This might also explain why I was overjoyed to sample the Sasebo burger the other day. You can't imagine anything like this if you think of American fast food joints. The bun was perfectly toasted, the lettuce was crispy, the sauce wasn't too skimpy or overly sloppy, the egg was fabulous...I could go on, but instead, I'm going to call it another day and get some rest. Yesterday was draining and the baby and I surely need some more rest.

Maternity Care in a Foreign Land

My Japanese isn't especially good. I've made no secret of that. Despite my attempts to go to Japanese language classes while living here in Japan, my Japanese is just barely functional in say, a convenience store. "Could I please have one newspaper?" might be manageable.

Thus, when it was time for my OB appointment here in Japan (because of our travels I haven't been able to see a doctor for maternity care for just over 2 months) I took my husband with me knowing full well that I couldn't possibly follow a medical conversation with a doctor. I'm glad I took him. First off, it was nice to have some company while I spent over 2 hours in the hospital being shuttled up and down, back and forth to the lab for urine samples, blood work, what I'm told was an EKG (never had one so I couldn't say for sure), a brief meeting with the doctor who whipped out the Doppler (Yes! a heartbeat!) and finally the doula. We don't need a doula for birthing services as we will be back in the U.S. for labor and delivery. But apparently this doula's responsibilities also include maternity services much like a nurse in the U.S. might provide, such as nutritional counseling, information about weight control, etc.

This conversation with the doula was not my favorite part of the visit. She was shocked when I told her that my pre-baby weight was probably around 54 kg. and I'm now up to just over 60 kg. "54?!!" she yelled. I was so startled and confused by her yelling, that I thought maybe I was wrong. I refigured in my head and said, yes, 54. If you're not accustomed to metric terms, (and I'm not really) this means that I've gained about 12 pounds in my first 18 weeks. Not ideal by American standards but even more out of line by Japanese standards. As a result, I was given a chart with a request to weigh myself at home once a week and record it for future review by the doctor. They would like to see me every few weeks while I'm here. I don't know if that's standard, but I appreciate their thoroughness.

The doula went on to say that she isn't too worried since I'm not Japanese (I'm nearly 5'8" tall for heavens sake and as a result, bigger and heavier than most Japanese women). Still, by most American standards on was on the very low end of the weight chart for a woman my height before pregnancy, and while I gained quickly in the 1st trimester that's to be expected as I was eating as a self-defense to minimize the nausea and because at the end of the 1st trimester I was sometimes ravenous. This has all changed in the last several weeks and the weight gain has slowed, but now I'm more than a little paranoid.

The shock this woman expressed has been engraved on my brain. I'm sure my own doctor would have talked to me about weight gain and target weights, but I'm sure that she would have been far more sensitive about the whole thing. Not only does my own doctor know that I only gained about 25 pounds during my 1st pregnancy, but she also knows that was not overweight prior to pregnancy. I was stunned and hurt by the doula's reaction. It felt as though she was suggesting that I'm an overweight and out of control crazy American (not an unusual experience for a foreigner here in Japan). I'm sure many of my readers are familiar with this situation, and I actually expected it, but it was startling all the same.

The good news is that I've been able to explain to my husband how much this concerned me and we've made time in our family schedule for me to get back to my maternity exercise routine -something that had fallen by the wayside what with jet lag and settling back in here. Also, Gboy was able to explain what happened to his mother and I'm hoping that now when I say, "No thank you I'm done" when she offers me more food at dinner, she'll believe me. I appreciate her attempts to feed me, but portion control is out of the question when she just keeps dishing up equal portions to everyone at the table regardless of their hunger level.

By the way, does anyone have any speculation about why the hospital would want an EKG? I don't have any history of heart problems or anything else that I can think of which would even make that test relevant for maternity services.

Also, anything else I should be prepared for in my coming visits with the doctor? I've got an ultrasound scheduled for about 3 weeks from now.

The countdown begins...

One more week until we're back in the U.S.A. As in, 7 days from now we'll be boarding a plane at this very minute. Wow. I've learned a lot while living here. I had hoped that I'd get a better feel for the culture and my husband's history and upbringing here. I had hoped that I'd be able to better understand why he couldn't just say to his family, "My family and my life is in the U.S. now and I'm not coming back to live in Japan," (especially since that was really our original plan - barring any serious illness of his parents of course in which case we'd help out and stay for a while). Having lived here now for 8 1/2 months, I think I can safely say that I have in fact gained those perspectives. I'm not saying that makes all of life easier, but I think I have a better sense of the issues and factors that my husband has tried in the past to describe to me - to no avail.

I'm not sure that Japan and I will ever be best friends. But I do feel that I have a new appreciation for life and the culture here. I've enjoyed getting to know my husband's family better. I've met some wonderful people here through AFWJ and my Japanese class. As my Japanese language skills have improved, I've even found it easier to communicate with people in the village here and that in turn has helped me to feel more at home. And I'm *really* sad that my daughter will have to say good-bye to her grandparents and all of her extended family here. It makes me get all teary-eyed just thinking about it. Gboy's family is, by and large, an amazingly wonderful group of sweet, sweet people and I will miss them. I know for sure that Peanut will miss them. My whole extended family had moved away from my hometown by the time I was about 8 years old. No grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins - it was just my parents, my sister, and me. Whenever I got the chance to visit our extended family I was thrilled. I grew up watching "Eight is Enough" and "The Brady Bunch" and I knew that some chaos was inevitable in a family that big, but darn it! They looked like they were having an awful lot of fun too and now that I've witnessed Peanut with her cousins and family, I know they don't always agree, but they DO have a lot of fun. I hate to take that away from her even for a little while.

Our plan right now is to return to Japan in time to celebrate the 2010 New Year; this helps make the parting more bearable. And of course, there's the promise of real pizza, Vietnamese food, Mexican food, Ethiopian food, beans and grains of wide varieties, and baked goods made with butter, salt and vanilla (all ingredients that seem to be lacking in many baked goods here) and of course - coffee. I can't forget to mention the amazing Seattle weather coupled with lots of great parks within walking distance. And while Peanut may not have time with her Japanese family while we're back in the U.S., we've already got plans to ensure that she gets to spend lots of time with her American family and they're so excited to see her! These are all strong incentives for making the return home!

Two-faced living

Living in two places poses interesting challenges.

Thanks to many wonderful suggestions and thought-provoking comments from all of you, I've had some further insights.

• It's okay to hoard chocolate. Sometimes, daily survival in another culture requires that we make sacrifices. In this case, I may be sacrificing some rules of etiquette but I won't be sacrificing my sanity. Yay!
  
• Giving indoor shoes for a toddler who doesn't understand the difference between "indoor" and "outdoor" shoes while seemingly ridiculous to me (why bother?) feels like a step in the right direction toward engendering tolerance from my in-laws. Not one person here has pointed the finger at me and called me a bad mom, but honor and reputation are very, very prized here and I really want to keep mine untarnished for as long as possible.
• No matter how many times I think I'm starting to get the hang of things and fit in, something new will come up. Yesterday I unthinkingly used my chopsticks to take a piece of food from my husband's chopsticks in order to give it to my daughter. He gave me a "look" and sternly warned me about how inappropriate that is in Japanese culture. Thankfully, his mother, the only witness, played ignorant. (She is a wonderful woman!) In my defense, my husband was reaching across me at the table to give food to my daughter and frankly, I get tired of having his arm in my face at mealtimes (for some reason he refuses to sit on the other side of my daughter so this happens all the time). Furthermore, I was raised to believe that reaching across the dinner table, in front of others, is rude. Can you say "culture clash"??
• It's sometimes hard to know what I can or should chalk up to differences in parenting style or personality versus larger cultural issues. Living with your in-laws, even within the same country and culture, is bound to result in some discomfort and the revelation that we don't always do things the same way. However, when you add in the "gaijin" (foreigner) factor, things get trickier for me. There are times I don't want people here to think that I'm representative of my culture and that "all Americans do x". On the one hand, I'd like to show that there are different ways of doing things since a lot of Japanese culture seems to be really homogeneous - "there's the Japanese way and it's the only way". But trying to show the "American" perspective is challenging since one of the things I most love about the U.S.A. is the diversity of people and ideas. The last thing I want to convey is that my way is THE American way. Needless to say, I think about this a lot and I find that it's complicated. Perhaps after living here for a while longer, I'll find a way to let it all go and just...be. In the meantime, I struggle to figure out how to choose my battles when I'm not even sure where the lines are being drawn.
  

What are the sounds in your neighborhood?

With Mr. Rogers echoing in my brain, I've been thinking lately about where we live now. Daily, I'm reminded that I live in a new place. Each time the town plays the five o'clock song (I'm told it's to call the kids home). Or when the satsuma imo man drives by with the megaphone on his truck singing Satsumaaaa IIIImo, not unlike the American ice cream man. Then there's the trucks that drive around announcing their collection of old appliances and electronics for garbage haul-away. And periodically someone drives by with announcements about politicians or political issues. These are all constant reminders to me that I'm in a new place. Before living here, I had become accustomed to living in a city near the ocean and lakes and we could hear hydroplanes all the time, an occasional tugboat or barge. Since we lived in a big city there were always plenty of helicopters (both medical, news crews and law enforcement). My parents visited once and my mother mistook the choppers for snow plows because although we'd never get snow in that city, she was used to snow plows all the time where she lived. Needless to say, each time I hear a new sound, I'm reminded that we're in a new place and while the sounds may be different, they create a symphony to which I'll become accustomed and will soon be a part of everyday life. What sounds do you miss when you're in a new place?

Back from the break: Culture shock

I think it's fair to say that no matter how times I've visited Japan, I'm still experiencing some culture shock now that we've actually landed here in Japan for a long-term stay. We've been here for almost 2 weeks now. I realize that adapting to life here for the next 8 months or so will take some time and patience and I think I have both in spades, but this kind of big lifestyle change is never easy. I'm finding the need to write about my feelings and experiences; multiple changes all at once can be overwhelming. I hope this blog will enable me to reflect on my stay here and perhaps even connect with others in similar life experiences - other moms, other expatriates, others in intercultural marriages, etc.

Please feel free to comment or email me. I'd love to hear your thoughts on kids, travel, living overseas, how to organize that junk drawer that inevitably develops, favorite chocolate chip cookie recipes, you name it!