And Off We Go...

Goodbye England......

Hello America.....

We'll Miss You, England

I remember sitting in my front yard 3 years ago, watching movers load everything we owned onto a truck to have it shipped overseas. And I remember feeling like I could cry. We were leaving the place we had called home for 9 years, plus all of our family and friends, to move to a new country. All I could think was "What the hell are we doing? What if it all goes terribly wrong?! What am I going to do without a Target just 5 minutes away?!"

How did 3 years go by already? Can I tell you that I'm not really prepared to go back to living in the States? Europe (England included) is just so different, with a different way of living, and I've become so accustomed to it that moving back feels strange. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to miss being here, at least a little. Living in a foreign country has taught me a lot - like how to politely take up multiple parking spaces with my minivan so that I can easily leave a store. It does change you though - living so far away from home. You're away from everyone you love, out of your comfort zone, and without the things you're used to.

I can't even believe how much the kids have grown here. It's crazy to look back at the pictures and see how young they were...how different their personalities were. Living here has changed them too.

3 years appart...They changed so much

There's a part of me that wishes we could have waited to come overseas until they were a little bit older. But at the same time, I'm glad we came when we did because the Mister and I have been able to show them so many things. And who am I kidding? I've been able to cross a lot off my own bucket list --

Like seeing Stonehenge...

And the Eiffel Tower...

And really old castles...

Trying new foods...

And getting my ass broken by a boulder...

Ok, so that wasn't actually on my bucket list, but I will remember it for a very long time. So maybe it counts. (And can I tell you that every time I say the word "boulder" I can't help but hear Eddie Murphy say "That is a NICE boulder!" Lol)

Seriously though, there are so many things that I'm going to miss. Like the church down the street from our house. When we first moved here I absolutely hated listening to the church bells. They were so loud. But after 3 years, I barely noticed them most of the time, and when I did hear them it was really beautiful. And I'm going to miss all of our neighbor's chickens. They're actually really fun to listen to. I'm going to miss the food, and pubs, and the markets. I'm going to miss our friends. Oh I'm going to miss their cat! She is the funniest cat I've ever met.

That's her. She scratched on the door. Looked through the side window. And scratched on the door some more until we opened the door. She comes running any time we're outside, and has basically made our yard her 2nd home. The day our movers came she tried to jump in our kitchen window, so maybe she's going to miss us too.

I'm going to miss the beautiful countryside, the really old buildings, and the cathedrals. I'm going to miss getting to use fun words like trolley, and lorry, and loo. And sometimes I wonder if I'll still say chips instead of french fries when we're in the States. And I'll miss really fun driving adventures like taking the minivan on super tiny roads that it was never meant to be on. Like this one...

That was absolutely a 2-lane road, except that van took up the whole thing. Passing someone was insane. And there were a few times I felt like I might have had a few years shaved off my life when we passed another large vehicle on this road.

It's been such a crazy ride these last few years. We've all been through a lot - individually, and together. I'm so glad we came here (for better or worse). Living in a foreign country teaches you a lot about yourself - what you can tolerate, and what you can't. You learn that there are things more beautiful than you could imagine, and people who are more kind and generous than you thought possible. You learn what is important.

So thanks for having us, England. It's been great. We should do this again sometime.

It's a Sock-tastrophe!

I think it's fair to tell you that I am, by no means, a morning person. I'm the exact opposite of a morning person. I'm the one that purposely sets my alarm for 45 minutes before I need to wake up, sets a second alarm for 20 minutes before I need to wake up, and then continues to hit snooze until, yes I do actually need to get out of bed. And then I lay there. I stare at the screen on my phone, using my fake time-manipulation powers to will the clock to go back about an hour so I can sleep longer. It never works and so I get up. (Stupid fake powers.)

I'm great about getting the kids up on time, if by great you mean I open their doors and say "get up". Sure, I wish I could be one of those awesome moms that goes in their rooms and does all kinds of cute, sweet stuff to wake them up nice and slowly. That's not me though. No one is functioning enough for that crap.

This morning though. Oh, this morning was really bad. Two weeks on an air mattress and my mornings are becoming gradually more sluggish day by day. I got the kids up, made them the greatest cereal breakfast ever, and then sat down. Huge mistake. I had to physically force myself to stay awake. I was just sitting there like "ok, don't fall asleep. Seriously. Stop it. You can't go back to sleep. They have to go to school. OMG! You just nodded off! Get up now before you fall asleep and no one goes to school and they're all stuck at home with you!" I was a mess. Eyes half-open, feet barely leaving the ground when I walked. An absolute mess.

So when my youngest came running into the living room and threw herself at me, headbutting me in the stomach, I was not prepared. She was in complete panic mode - her minion socks were missing. There were tears, and super-fast talking in a language that didn't sound like English, and arms waving everywhere. Shit just got real.

We argued about these socks for 10 minutes. Ten. And she swore up and down that she left them on the table, and now they're gone, and her crossing her heart that "oh yes, mama they did grow legs and walk off because I put them right here. I just know it." And then her getting mad at me because I was still not awake and was not giving the missing sock catastrophe the correct amount of attention. Because that's how I need to start my morning - arguing about missing socks that grew legs and walked off. And the fact that I, as her mother, have failed her and will be adding to her therapy bills later in life by not freaking out about these missing socks.

She took matters into her own hands.

"Missing minion socks. If found please return to ME for a fist bump, or a hug!"

She hung these in the house so everyone knew about the tragedy of her minion socks having run away. (Why didn't I think of that?)

I'll go ahead and let you know that I eventually did find the socks and they were not anywhere near that table at all. They were in the bathroom sink. Because that's where we keep our socks now apparently. And when I picked her up after school with the wonderful news that she could call off the manhunt on her socks, she wasn't even excited. Nope, not a tiny bit. I found them in the coloring bin 30 minutes later.

So now when she freaks out again tomorrow about the minion socks and how they have run off to live with unicorns and fairies in some unknown land, I'll know where they are. And I even changed my phone screen to a note reminding me so that when I stare it for an unmentionable amount of time tomorrow morning, I'll remember too.

Baby, It's Cold in Here

Funny story. Ok more unexpected & ridiculous than ha-ha funny. But whatever.

We've lived in this house for almost 3 years - like we'll be moving out exactly at the 3 year mark. And the day we moved in, we picked up the keys, let ourselves into our new home and the first thing the Mister and I said was "damn it's really cold in here". After a lot of searching and figuring things out we realized that our boiler was broken. It was 34 degrees outside and we had no heat at all. I'll save you the long story here, but the short version is that I stood in front of the oven with all the burners on to keep warm.

Now, here we are in the last few weeks in the house...and the boiler is broken. Again. No heat, no hot water, for going on 3 days now.

There aren't many conversations as absurd as the one when the repairman says "well, yeah, so it's broken like you thought. But I'm not qualified to fix it so you're going to have to wait for the guy who is and it may be awhile". Especially when said repair will fix a broken boiler. And I was all "so, uh, yeah, I called you 2 days ago and said 'hey the boiler's broken'. And they send you to come out and poke it with a screwdriver for 5 minutes to tell me that....oh, it's broken." And then he's all "so, the guy who can fix it is sick so it may be a day or two, but here's a space heater in the meantime." Gee. Thanks, guy.

Yeah. It's winter and we have no heat. No hot water. It totally rocks around here!

And of course, I wouldn't be me, if I didn't drive my daughter crazy while we wait not-so-patiently for the magic boiler-fixing-man to come and give us heat again. After we ate breakfast this morning, I should have been working on her science lesson with her. You know, responsibilities and all. But no. I was all "hey let's go to the store instead...even though we were just there yesterday". Why? Because the grocery store has heat. (She looked at me like I was nuts.)

And I'll go ahead and tell you that whoever decided to spread that rumor that ice cold showers in the morning are "refreshing" has lied to you. They aren't refreshing. They're cold. But it is a great way to wake yourself up. Who needs an coffee when you're standing under freezing cold water, right? Ok, yeah. I still want my caffeine. I couldn't give it up that easily.

Well here's hoping the magic broiler-fixing-man calls tomorrow and says "Congratulations! I can give you heat." Or perhaps he will tell us to try again later. Maybe I'll just start hanging out at the grocery store. And if all else fails, maybe I can just start building an igloo in my living room to pass the time.