Out of the Darkness

I haven't written much lately.  To me, that says a lot about my state of mind.  Writing is cathartic for me. It's been an outlet these last 5 years to not only keep everyone up to date on what we are doing, but also a way for me to work through my feelings and emotions about living life abroad.  But lately, I just haven't been feeling it.  I've been in a dark place and thought, for a little bit, that I didn't want to write again.  I was actually planning to end this blog - if I can't write any positive things, then why continue to write.

Thankfully, this week has been much better and this morning, I was struck with the urge to write.  I take that as a good sign that, hopefully, for this moment at least, things are on an upswing.  The goal now is to keep things on that upward trajectory.  Easier said than done.

I can't explain the darkness that has taken over my life.  This last year was rough.  No question about it. But now that Josh is walking again, the kids are settled in school and making some friends and we are getting settled into our "new" lives, I should be feeling pretty good.  But I don't.  I should be feeling blessed that we get to live this amazing life, exploring the world and learning that there is more to life than what we had thought all along.  But I don't.  In fact, I've been craving my old life again.  And yet at that same time, as I crave my old life, I think to myself - "But I've learned so much about myself in these last 5 years... how can I regret any of it after learning so much?" and "This has been an amazing experience for the kids - would they be the same people they are today if they hadn't had this experience?  Likely not."

And these back and forth conversations with myself make me feel that I'm damaged.  I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't.  I'm not happy at home.  I'm not happy where I am.  And I'm not sure how to get to that happy place again or if it even exists for me.

I'm fearful to move home for a variety of reasons including:  schools being attacked by crazed gunmen, obesity and the lack of control by the government to ensure truth in advertising when it comes to food products, a constant fear that something will happen to my kids - a fear that has grown in my generation for some odd reason, but a fear that is there nonetheless.  Oh and the snow... the 7 feet of snow.  I don't think I want that again!!

But I'm also not happy where I am.  I'm tired.  Emotionally and physically tired of the battles that come with living abroad.  I'm tired of not understanding the language around me.  I study and I'm learning, but I'm tired.  What I wouldn't give to just be in an English speaking country for a while.  I'm tried of having to google translate every form that I look at and then figure out how I'm going to handle it.  I'm tired of living in small, cramped spaces with no storage.  I'm tired of not having a dryer - yes, total first world problem, but you hang your clothes out to dry every day and tell me what a good time it is.  I'm tired of us not fitting in, especially the kids.  And most of all, I'm tired of being lonely.

I said I don't have regrets about this journey but I have to wonder, would I be this damaged if we had just stayed put or was this me all along, just hidden under the layers of a routine life?  And so the darkness settles in.  I feel damaged and broken.  I don't belong here, I don't belong there.  Home is where my family is, but this isn't my home.  I'm tired of living the rental life.  I want to put up pictures and paint walls.  I don't want to worry about damaging things.  I have kids and I want to feel settled with them.  Neither here nor there feel like home any more.

We're missing out on things at home.  My brother, who doesn't speak to me because we moved abroad, had his first baby last month, our first niece.  I'm missing out on her and having to get to know her via pictures my mom sends.  It breaks my heart.  My cousins are also having babies.  And the little ones that are older (the oldest being 5 and born weeks before we moved to Spain), I'm missing out on time with them and time to build those relationships - I'm a stranger to them that shows up a few days each summer.  And let's not forget our immediate family - parents and siblings.  Would my relationship with my brother be better if we hadn't left?  Our families, overall, have been so incredibly supportive of our choices, but that doesn't mean they don't miss us and us, them.  Our kids are missing out on knowing their family too which is painful to me.  It gives me the greatest pleasure to see that Aidan has been whatsapp'ing with my mom these days - that they are finding ways to reach out to each other since he's not a fan of skype or the phone.  I didn't want him to have his own cell phone but for that alone, it was worth it.

And I guess that's what we have to do - find creative ways to stay in touch.  My relationships at home have changed.  Some for the better, some for the worse.  After 5 years away, I know who my real friends are and who are the fair weather ones.  And that should feel good.  Except I was happy with my friends the way they were and being blinded by rose colored glasses into thinking those were solid friendships.

So then I look at our lives here.  The life that I say I'm not happy with.  The one I say I'm just purely exhausted from.  And I see that there have been so many positives that have come with the challenges that we've faced.  It has not been easy for me living in a foreign country but I'm a stronger person for it. And so are the kids.  And Josh... well Josh acclimates easily and seems unfazed by the changes - this is incredibly good because someone needs to keep the rest of us balanced.  Not to mention, his ability to acclimate to different cultures easily is important in his job.  I wish I could be like that.  Our kids are third culture kids and that is amazing.  And so incredibly lucky.  We're heading to Barcelona next week to visit our friends there.  How often do you get to say, "We're going to Barcelona just to visit some friends for a few days."  And we say that often.  We visit our cousins in England and friends in other countries as well.  How many kids can say they have friends from so many places in the world?

Then why am I unhappy?  And so begets this cycle, this vicious cycle, of light and dark.  Of wanting to appreciate the hand that has been dealt to us and on the other hand, missing my old life so much (except for the snow).  And it's put me into this place that is dark.  It's darker than I remember it being in Barcelona during this transition time.  Maybe that's because I had Liam with me those first 9 months and so even if I was sad, he was an excuse for us to get outside and walk and be in the sunshine and a great distraction for me. Here, it's just me.  Alone.  And lonely.  So incredibly lonely.  It's not like Barcelona was.

Maybe that's because we don't live in the city like we did in Barcelona.  Maybe it's because it's cold, dark and wet here all winter and so like, home, people are hibernating (and yet everyone is still out on their bicycles riding to and from places - insanity!!!).  I hated winter at home.  I hate winter here too. And in Barcelona, you could be outside 300 days per year and the weather was beautiful - it was motivation to get things done and to get outside and walk.

But it's also the social aspect.  There is none here, not like the network I had in Barcelona.  Just when I thought my social circle was starting to disappear there and was feeling down about it - I wish I had the foresight to know what was ahead and what it really means to be alone.  And so deeper into the darkness I go.  And then it rains.  And the kids argue.  And the kids struggle.  And their struggles become my struggles because in reality, I'm struggling with the same issues they do, on a slightly different level.

And I go deeper into the darkness.  It's not pretty.  I've spent a chunk of the last 2 weekends in the fetal position on my bed just wanting all of it to go away.  To find an escape from the darkness that surrounds me.  To add insult to injury, I've put on weight which makes me feel even worse.  This dark place scares me and I don't want to be there but I don't know how to escape it either.  I'm trapped.

I recognize that this is not the place I want to be in. This dark place.  I don't like it.  I don't like how it makes me feel.  I don't like the constant waves of sadness that come over me out of the blue or triggered by completely random things.  I hate the helpless looks on my childrens' faces when I push them away because mommy needs to be alone in her sorrows.  I don't want to bring them down with me.

And so while this dark place has become part of a cycle these last few months, I see the light.  It's not necessarily at the end of the tunnel.  I think I have some serious self exploration to do before I can get to the end of the tunnel - but I think there are some holes poking thru that tunnel letting in some light - giving me hope that things will, in fact, get better.  I know in my heart that they will and I guess that's a good first step.  Second is therapy.  I'm not ashamed to say it - therapy is a good thing.  And if it helps me to get to the root of these issues, then to therapy I will go, starting with my first appointment in a few weeks.  And spring.  It will come.  Hopefully sooner versus later.  Thank god I'm not home in Boston right now because it looks like spring may never arrive there.  But here, while it's still below freezing when I get up, the afternoons are starting to warm up and my flowers are starting to bud which give me hope - things are starting to come back to life after a long winter, myself included.

It's not much but it's a start...

Besos,
Julie

Radio Silent

I've been a bit radio silent lately.  I can't say why for sure.  One day a few weeks ago, something just snapped inside me.  At the time, it probably wasn't something good.  But looking back, it's given me some time to do some much needed reflecting on my life and the direction it's heading.

A few weeks ago I was feeling so incredibly alone here.  And lost.  And depressed.  I was not in a good place - at all.  It took all my energy to get out of bed.  I was snapping at everyone.  I was most definitely not a fun person to be around.  I cried - a lot.  And I kept telling myself that this too shall pass.  That I had been in a similar situation when we moved to Barcelona and while it took a bit longer there to get myself to a better place (about 3 months), I did it and learned to love Barcelona.

And so I knew that this stage, while it felt more intense than the first time it happened, would go away (and for the most part it has). But in the meantime, everything was irritating me, especially social media. Now I'm the first to admit, I'm a social media addict.  Facebook is the first thing I check after my email every morning and the last thing I look at before I go to bed at night.  But like I said, something snapped.  It wasn't any one thing or any one person - just suddenly social media lost it's appeal to me.

I didn't want to be on it.  I didn't want to use it only I found that it has more of a hold of me than I would like.  Everyone and their brother seems to use Facebook messenger.  Suddenly I had no choice but to log on in order to get the messages that were appearing.  And so I started to resort back to the "old fashioned" method of communicating - email.  I'm not sure when email became old fashioned but I've been trying to put forth more effort in using that time I had on Facebook for actually communicating with people in a "normal" way.

It doesn't mean I haven't been on Facebook at all, just not to the extent I was on it before -  not even close.  And it's made me realize just how much social media has controlled my life in a sense.  In a way it's a relief to no longer have that "burden".  Maybe some of that time I was using can go towards that work I was saying I don't seem to have enough time for lately.  And I'm finding that social media is losing it's importance to me.  Those that want to be in touch with me know how they can reach me - they have my phone number and my email.  We whatsapp, we email and we talk on the phone.  I need that.  What I have loved about Facebook, I have started to resent - I love that I can go on and see what everyone is up to but at the same time, I feel as though I have lost the ability to communicate with all my friends the way we used to, making me feel at the same time, disconnected.

And it doesn't mean that I don't see all the positives that go along with social media.  You wouldn't be reading this entry if it weren't for it's existence.  I get it and I utilize it.  But for now, I need to focus on the here and now.  I need to focus on my kids and their struggles in a new country, a new school and new friends.  I need to focus on helping Josh with his recovery.  And I need to focus on my adjustment here as well.

So if you don't hear from me for a little while, you know how to reach me... I'm not ignoring you, just reshifting my focus away from social media for the time being in order to redirect my attention towards the things, like work, and people that need me now, including myself.

Besos,
Julie

2 Months

It's amazing how fast time can fly sometimes.  And also how slow.  There are days where I look back and feel like we've always lived here in the Netherlands.  It feels (almost) like home already.  We've got routines and we have become familiar with our neighborhood and our town.  We don't need the GPS as much as we used to. We're starting to feel settled.  And it's only been 2 months.

It's almost as though we never lived in Barcelona.  It's so strange because we have so many wonderful memories and friends there.  But it feels like so long ago and a bit surreal.  That's when I feel like we've been here forever.  And so it's so strange to look back and realize that in fact, we've been here a mere 8 weeks.

But what we've accomplished in those 8 weeks makes me feel pretty good.  I feel like we are worlds ahead of where we were when we arrived in Barcelona.  I attribute that to both the language and that so many people speak English and to the fact that we've done this before and so we know what roadblocks and challenges are ahead so that we can be better prepared.  I know that there are going to be moments of such frustration that I just want to throw in the towel (and there have already been many).  And yes, there are those same moments when we lived at home but they are intensified 10 fold when you live in a foreign country and have to add the culture factor to the mix.

However, for 8 weeks, we've done a lot (in no particular order)...

• The kids started school on our first full day.  They've already had their first school break (they are on a British system and start in August and finish in July but with breaks every 6-7 weeks).
• We've moved not one but 2 shipments of goods here and with the exception of one or two boxes, are completely unpacked.
• We've called 112 (Europe's version of 911) for an ambulance.
• Josh has had surgery.
• As a result of the 112 call and Josh needing surgery, we've already found our general practitioner, something I had planned to wait on since we all had physicals this summer, but hey check that off our list too.
• We've found an eye doctor, had Aidan tested for allergies, and brought Liam in for a toe abscess.  Josh found a dermatologist and has started light treatments for his psoriasis.  Good times.
• The kids have been enrolled in sports since September.  I think this took me close to a year to do in Barcelona. They are doing swimming and tennis.
• We've been to a neighborhood block party.  And we have a neighborhood Halloween coming up in a few weeks, apparently the first one.  The kids are especially excited to have a traditional Halloween again where we can go door to door to get candy.  Given it's the first one this neighborhood has had, hopefully they won't be disappointed!
• I've established a regular running route and it is beyond beautiful and peaceful.
• We found a babysitter.
• We've found the movie theater that plays VOS movies (though I hear that here they do all movies in VOS except cartoons).
• Josh ordered our car - weeks ago... we should finally have it next week (til then we've had a rental).  
• We no longer need our GPS for getting around town (for the most part).
• Josh and I bought Dutch bicycles and while he can't use his right now, he will again in the future and I use mine at least a few times per week.  Even the kids are on board with riding their bikes regularly.
• I found a hair stylist for myself and the kids (Josh has found his own).  This took me 6 months in Barcelona.  You can imagine how scrubby we looked after 6 months without haircuts!
• We've figured out the grocery store and what we can and cannot get here - though like in Barcelona I'm sure there will be surprises over time when we go "you mean we could get that here all this time and just didn't know it??".  I really miss good chocolate.  With it's proximity to Belgium you'd think there would be better but at least it's curbing my chocolate habit a little bit.
• However, I still need to work off the chocolate I've been eating and I joined a gym a few weeks ago.  I don't know that this is the gym I'm destined to stay at (I'm going to look at one by the kids' school soon) but it's good for the moment.  This took me 10 months to do in Barcelona (albeit Liam was home with me for the first 9 months and gyms in Barcelona do not have daycares in them).
• We received our BSN numbers (like social security numbers - can't do anything without them).
• I converted my hard gotten Spanish license over to a Dutch one.  Apparently being an EU license I didn't have to do this but since I think the Dutch one will be easier to renew in 10 years, I'm going with paying to renew now...
• We have explored our local area (at least as much as we've been able given Josh's limited mobility) and aren't afraid to leave town.  It took us 3 months to leave the city when we lived in Barcelona.  
• The kids have made friends and have had several playdates.
• The kids help me grocery shop via bicycle (it's about a mile and a half / 3km each way) and actually enjoy it, though both have expressed they miss city life and being able to walk out the door and the grocery store is a block away.
• We found the American store in Amsterdam... a little taste of home every now and again is warranted right?  
• The kids and I made a trip to Amsterdam (it's only 30 mins by train) the other day - our first since we moved here since Josh can't really walk around with us on the weekends (yet) and navigated just fine on our own.  We also made a trip to Utrecht (there are 5 decent sized cities in the Netherlands, this is one of them) to go to Lego World.  
• I stopped crying after just a few weeks - this took me 3 months in Barcelona.  Progress!!

I'm sure there are many more things that I have forgotten here that we've covered in 8 weeks, but I'm feeling pretty good about what I just re-read.  We still have our tough days and Aidan talks to me a lot about how much he misses Barcelona and how he's still trying to figure out how he fits in at his new school.  He's concerned about making good friends - he's made friends already but I know he's looking for more than just surface friendships and is trying to figure out who those people are going to be.  I've told him these things can't be rushed but he's at an age where he needs to figure it out for himself.

Liam overall has adjusted great.  He has moments of sadness where he misses his friends in Barcelona but has this amazing ability to just move on to the next thing.  He doesn't dwell on it.  I wish I could do this.  He has jumped into the culture to the best of a 7 year old's ability, telling me that he's no longer American or Spanish but he is now Dutch.  He has also taken to saying "nay" (no) as much as possible - it's his only Dutch word that he says to me but it's something and if he wants to embrace his one word, so be it.  Given his first Spanish word was "culo" (bum), I feel like I'm coming out slightly ahead this time ;)

Josh as always adjusts beautifully.  He, like Liam, has this ability to just jump right in and succeed. However, he hasn't actually be here for 2 months but more like 11. But since he's only been in this house for 2, we'll call it even for the moment.  But even if it had been only 2 months, he has still done wonderfully especially given the circumstances with dislocating his knee, his surgery and his recovery. We still have a long road ahead I suspect with his recovery, but hopefully the worst is behind him and he can start enjoying his time here as I know that he has been a bit depressed (though he hasn't vocalized this of course) about the fact that he can't do very much these days.

As for myself, as I mentioned, I'm not crying any more which is a good thing.  It doesn't mean I'm not having some meltdowns or tough days, just not feeling the horrible depression I was consumed with in our first weeks.  I'm no longer struggling to get out of bed in the mornings and no longer feeling the deep sadness that I was suffering from on a daily basis.  I look at that as a good thing :)  It doesn't mean that I'm happy here - that will take time.  But I'm determined to progress in a forward motion knowing that often times there will be one step forward and two steps back but doing my best to keep on inching in a positive direction.

So I think that for just 2 months time, we are doing quite well.  And by far better than we were in Barcelona at this point in time.  I look forward to seeing what the rest of the year brings for us and closing out 2014, which has been by far a very rough year for us, on a positive note.  Overall, I think in time we can all be happy here and feel good about calling the Netherlands home.

Besos,
Julie

The Mommy Guilt

All working mom's that I know have this and it's been a dilemma that we've faced since women started working outside the home.  The mommy guilt.  We call it a work - life balance but we all know that finding that balance is far more difficult than it should be.

For me, at least, there is this ongoing guilt of not being present enough.  Even though I work from home, I feel constantly torn in two directions - my children and my career.  No one ever wins.  And that's a very frustrating feeling all around.

Over the years, Josh's solution has been for me to quit work.  When times are stressful and I find that balance to be even more difficult than usual, this is when he thinks it would be a good choice to just not work.  I won't sugar coat it when I say that when he says this, it drives me insane.  Why should I have to quit my job?  But I understand where he is coming from.  There are things we cannot eliminate from our lives - the children for one... and so what is something that we can do that would eliminate or at least reduce some stress and that's the one factor that we can in fact change.  But as far as I'm concerned, it's not something we can change.

And I don't know why.  I don't know why I NEED to work.  I like my job, don't get me wrong.  But it's not what I want to do for the rest of my life.  It's not what I'm passionate about.  I once read that if you love what you do, it's not work.  And therefore there is no need for a work life balance because you've already got it.  But I feel that even though my financial contributions are small to our household, I'm doing something other than just being a parent and taking care of the home.

Where does this guilt come from that I feel like taking care of our children and our home isn't enough? It's certainly nothing that Josh has ever said.  Is it a preconceived notion of my generation that if you don't work then you aren't doing enough?  Or is it just a notion that I have in my head from god knows where that I just can't let go of?

Because there are days where I just want to stay home and focus 100% on the kids.  But I'll be honest... I'm afraid.  I'm afraid that once I give up that job, that I'll regret it.  My hope is that I wouldn't, but I'm afraid to take the risk.  Yes, this is coming from the person who has moved not just to one country but two.  Someone who takes risks everyday is afraid to take one that would benefit her family.

But would it benefit them?  Or would I resent them if I were home all day long?  I already feel as though there are days when I've lost who I am.  When I feel as though my world revolves around everyone but myself.  Could it be that that is who I am?  The caretaker?  Maybe that is my job?  Is that what I want to do?   This is when I have the most impact and I'm feel as though I'm fucking it up constantly. So do I give up my job and focus on them?  My fear is I do it and nothing changes and that I become spiteful for giving up a piece of who I am.

I don't know.  And so I continue on, being pulled in both directions.  Time moves quickly though and the kids are growing up fast.  I don't want regrets.  I don't want to miss out on this time with them.  I do my best to focus on them when they are with me.  But lately it's been a new challenge - their new shorter school day.  It's been both a blessing and a curse.  A blessing because I feel like our time together is less pressured - when we lived in Spain they got home at 5:45 and we had to cover dinner, homework, reading and family time before bed at 7:45/8.  That's not a whole lot of time.  And my guess it is similar in most households with 2 working parents.

But here they finish school at 3:15 most days and at 12 on Wednesdays.  We've had a lot more time together.  The curse is that means I'm getting a lot less work done.  And so the balance is becoming harder and harder and I've recognized recently that I'm losing my identity because my life has become focused solely on Josh and the kids and my needs aren't being met.  It feels selfish to say it, but let's be realistic, we all need something that is ours.

As far as my career goes, I feel that for years my career has taken a back burner and I'm in constant turmoil about prioritizing work and the kids.  And it affects me emotionally.  I haven't wanted to be "weak" and give up my time with the kids in order to focus on work because in my mind I should be able to balance it all.  But in reality I can't do it in the way that I would like to.

In the end, I've recognized that I'm juggling too many balls and they are starting to fall all around me.  I need to recognize when I need help and that we've also only been here just shy of 2 months.  I need to learn to cut myself some slack which is never easy for me.

Josh has found a solution that will hopefully work for the time being.  It will give me a little more balance and take some pressure off of me to get everything done in such a short period of time.  We've hired a babysitter 3 afternoons a week.  Aidan hates it.  He's angry about it.  And that makes me feel guilty that I'm choosing work over them.  But there are times when I need to do that.  Because my thoughts are that if I can get more done 3 afternoons per week, then on their short Wednesdays, I can completely (or so I hope and will try) focus on them as well as one other day during the work week.

We've only had the sitter 2 weeks so far.  I'm not totally sold yet.  It's not her, it's me.  I'm not feeling much more productive as a result of her being there.  I think it's in part because I've had so many appointments and meetings that I haven't actually had time to see what the result will be for work.  But as Josh said to me the other day, being productive doesn't necessarily mean that I need to work my job more - it's about being productive all around.  He's right.  

So we're going to see how things go.  I told the kids we need to give this a few months and see if this will work for us.  It may.  It may not.  But we need to find a balance that we are all happy with. Hopefully the kids will eventually understand that I'm doing this for them and for me.  If I can have something that is important to me, then I can be a better parent to them.  Or so that is my hope.  Only time will tell.

In the meantime, I'm trying to work through this "mommy guilt" and figure out why I feel the way I do about my career.  Why can't I focus on a hobby that may eventually transition into a second career? Why is it that this something for me has to be work and not pleasure?  Is it because Josh is working so hard for us that I feel guilt over not working hard enough?  I'm sure that's a piece of it.  But work comes in all different forms and I need to remember that as well.

I've been spending a lot of time reflecting on my life lately (more on that later) and this is one of those areas that I need to spend some time focusing on.  What will make me feel more complete as a person? Is it a career?  It is the kids?  Is there a way to find a balance that will make us all happy without these feelings of guilt?  If anyone has figured out the solution, I'm all ears!!

Besos,
Julie

And Move #4... yes #4

Ok, we are FINALLY done with this stupid move.  From Barcelona to storage in June (plus prepacking for weeks before), then weeks later, the storage items into the house, then the US stuff shipped by container to Amsterdam and finally now, the US items to the house.  Finally.  I shipped everything from the US on August 5th.  That was about 6 weeks ago.  And last week it arrived here in the Netherlands.

We never planned to bring our US items to Europe with us.  After all, this was supposed to be just a 2 year move.  But that was almost 5 years ago.  And when Josh said we were moving to the Netherlands, my response was... I want my stuff.  I know it's just "stuff" but it's comfort things.  Our bedroom furniture, our photos (we only brought what was digital since that was obviously easy but since we've been together 20 years, there are a lot of pre-digital things we left behind...not to mention our framed wall prints) and more.  Most of it would never have fit into our last 2 apartments and while this house is smaller than our home in the US, we figured most of the furniture could work out.  And so, we shipped it.  Not everything, but a lot.

But like everything else, this has not gone as smoothly as we had expected.  Because somewhere along the way, someone forgot to tell us (or perhaps we didn't do enough due diligence) that because we have lived in Europe over 12 months, we no longer qualify for free importing through customs.  Ah yes, we have shipped all of our things to Amsterdam (ok, not all but a lot of them - 3/4 of a 20' container) only to find out at the end of last week that we will have to pay a customs fee to get it released.

So our options were to send everything back or to pay the fee.  Given that we spent well more than the fee to ship it all here, we have gone with option B, pay the stupid fee.  As a result, our things are now get here 2 weeks sooner than we had originally been told.  Good thing because the kids have been sleeping on air mattresses for a solid month now.

But it's all here and we're almost completely moved in.  There will be pictures soon but we still have 2 or 3 more boxes to unpack and some pictures to hang up on the walls.  But we're almost there and it's starting to feel like home, even more so now that we have our things.  It's amazing how having these personal effects can make you feel more at home and more secure.  I know they are just things but it still feels good to have them.  And damn if I don't love my American queen size bed (we've been sleeping on a traditional double bed the last 5 years).

Most of all, you should have seen the looks on the kids' faces when they saw their rooms complete. Liam's took a little more time since his bed was apparently missing some essential screws to put it together and Aidan's actually needed some emergency screws today (apparently you can not just place the boards under the mattress but should secure them as well... ooops) as it was in danger of collapsing, and our boxspring is actually on the floor since our mattress boards are missing (yet the bed is now of the perfect height in the frame, just with no space under the boxspring for storage under the bed) but now, as of Sunday night, everyone has a bed.  But the look on Aidan's face, seeing his furniture for the first time in almost 5 years, was one of complete elation.  He is so happy and you can tell that this is now his sanctuary, something he needed.  It's become a home to them (too bad we have to move out of this house in 2 years when the owners return but the kids don't have to think about that now).

Storage is still an issue as we have very little.  The kids are sharing one closet and one thing is clear, they have too many clothes.  Not new news here... but still a pain that everything is kind of shoved in there.  And I actually have no closet at all but just tons of drawers.  But we're making it work.  And our shed is literally full to the door.  My project this week is to organize it (again) so that we can at least walk inside it!

In the end, we're getting settled and trying to make this house into a home.  We're getting there and are just relieved that all of the moves are now complete.  At least for the next 2 years!  Pictures to come hopefully soon!

Besos,
Julie

The Bicycle

While people don't always like to conform to societal pressures, there are times where by conforming you are integrating better into the culture around you.  Now, I'm not saying you should jump off the Brooklyn Bridge because little Johnny did it... but a little conforming to pressures is not always bad. For instance, the bicycle.  And Josh and I have jumped on the bicycle bandwagon here.  Though sadly, Josh won't be riding his again for at least another 4-6 weeks (in addition to the 4 weeks since his accident) but it's ready and waiting for him when he's able to start exercising his knee again.

Our little bicycle family - can you tell which one is mine??

Who knew this two wheeled wonder could have such an impact on society.  I remember back in my Babson days taking a winter session class on the bicycle.  The majority of it didn't stick with me, but the one thing I do remember is that the invention of the bicycle improved the gene pool because people were able to leave their villages in order to procreate beyond their family members.  Yes, that is what stuck with me.

Regardless of what I remember from my college days, anyone and everyone (that I know of at least) has ridden a bicycle in their lifetime.  Whether it be when you were a child riding your bike to your friend's house or to your summer job, it was not just a mode of transportation but something you enjoyed (most often) doing.  You would create ramps out of a few pieces of wood you found lying around.  You'd see how long you could ride with no hands (I could do it all the way around the block... ahhhh to do that again!).  And so much more.

And then I got my license and I didn't really have much need for my bike any more.  Not unless it was a stationary one at the gym.  I'd use it here and there with the kids to do a short bike ride and a few months before we left Barcelona I had started to use it with a little more frequency but riding on city streets is a bit intimidating so I didn't do it often.

But here in the Netherlands, the bicycle is a staple life item from the moment you are born.  Everyone rides bicycles, young and old and often times old with a young one tagging along on the back! Bicycles have the right of way the majority of the time on the roads, something I'm semi used to from the motos back in Barcelona... only god forbid you hit a moto at least the driver was wearing a helmet.  Not so here.  I'm incredibly paranoid about these bikes and their very entitled riders (similar to the moto drivers in BCN).  I find I'm backing out of a parking space and a bike will just ride right by me, not even considering the impact on if I didn't see them... or even backing into a space, they've gone right behind my car there as well.  Like the motos, I'll just have to get used to it, albeit, I'm sure with some swearing along the way.  But unlike with the motos, I'm attempting to join this cult(ure) - though likely in a less aggressive way.

Bike paths are everywhere here.  They are well maintained and so far (at least outside the city), run separately from the main roads as often as possible - called a fietspad.  In fact, urban planning prioritizes the bicycle over the car.  There are certainly plenty of times when you are in a bike lane alongside cars, but not all the time.  Many of these paths have route markings similar to those you would see on a highway.  For instance, we live off route 23A and 23B (opposing directions).  Often times these routes are more direct from point A to point B than driving a car would be.  The signage, so as not to be confused with that of vehicle traffic, is primarily in red (usual route) or green (scenic route).

The culture is so ingrained that no matter the weather, people are out on their bikes.  I think perhaps people soak themselves in Rain-X as they appear to be impervious to the rain.  Their hair and make up still looks fine despite the crappy weather.  And since no one wears a helmet, there is no helmet head. My poor kids are not thrilled (but do accept) that they have to still wear helmets when riding.  It makes us stand out a little bit from the locals but better safe than sorry especially since we are still working on learning and understanding our bike etiquette and rules of the road here.  Not to mention, Liam is still a little bit of a bob n weaver on the roads, not particularly good at going in a straight line.

The good thing is with all the trails that are separated from the car traffic, Liam is getting some practice in without risk of getting hit by a car... by another bike perhaps, but not by a car.  It's a start.  Aidan has really loved riding his bike, especially since it's flat here.  Rarely would we use our bikes in Barcelona, primarily because we'd have to stop at each block and the kids couldn't ride on busy streets - it was easier to scooter.  And he loves to ride his bike.  The land being flat helps too - no whining about hills to ride up!  And now that I have my own Dutch bike (I had a mountain hybrid bike that I was riding before which was just not meant for these streets but will now be used as our "guest" bike), I'm trying to get out several times a week to run errands.  If I can keep that up in addition to my running, I'll feel pretty good.

Bike parking at Amsterdam Centraal... yes it is a parking garage for bikes!  And that's actually Josh's building in the background!

So we look forward to Josh getting back up and riding again so that we can do some trips as a family - maybe one of these days we'll get up to riding all the way into Amsterdam (about 20km each way / 12 miles).  But in the meantime, we're conforming to the culture and jumping / riding on this bandwagon. It's not walking the streets of Barcelona like we're used to, but it's nice to be outside and getting exercise while at the same time going about your every day business like we did back in Spain.  I say this now while the weather is still decent - talk to me come December when it's cold, rainy and windy... but for now we're totally into this.

Besos,
Julie

And Then Along Came Saturday...

It started off well enough.  The kids were up earlier than I liked for a Saturday (we need to close their curtains at night - total fail on our part) but everyone was in a pretty good mood.  The weather was nice and I went for a nice long run and was feeling like I could take on the world.  I wanted to spend some time with just Aidan (he doesn't get nearly enough one on one time) and knew he needed some stuff for his bike so asked him to go for a bike ride with me to get it.

It all started to fall apart at that moment.  You see, none of the Dutch kids here wear bike helmets. That's a whole separate entry just on biking and helmets.  But Aidan, at 10 years old, is at that age where he notices this stuff and gets upset when he's "different" than the others.  I say, it's safe.  Helmet rule is not being changed any time soon.  Sorry my friend.  He didn't take it well.

Commence tantrum.  Epic tantrum.  As we were riding bikes.  F-bombs being thrown from left to right, up and down.  Yes, he was.  He's a rather "vocal" child sometimes.  And not always in a good way. Always at my limit, I told him we were going home.  Long story short and deeply apologetic, we made our way on our errands.  But not all was forgotten.

Fast forward a few hours.  Liam has now thrown several tantrums for no particular reason.  And all three boys announce we are going to see the new TMNT movie.  No, I didn't want to see it (though will admit it was a good movie and glad I went).  But as Josh can't drive, I was really left with no choice.  So off we went.  And I childishly pouted the entire way.  And even more so when I realized that going to the movies is no longer an everyman's thing - it cost 64 euro for the 4 of us to go to the movies on a Saturday afternoon.  Ridiculous.

So the movie was good.  I can admit when I'm childish and wrong.  I'm glad I saw it.  It wouldn't have been my top choice had we not had kids but as far as kid movies go, it was good.  Feeling pretty good now, I suggested we grab dinner at one of the many restaurants nearby.  And let the meltdown begin. Yet another one from Aidan.  And then Josh yelled at him in public (not that I've never done it, I have, but this time it wasn't me!).  So I decided at that moment I was done...with all of them.

I'm not sure what it was about that moment that pushed me to the brink.  It's not like no one in my family ever throws tantrums (though you would think we'd be past this stage, wouldn't you?).  But it did.  Already in an emotional state these last three weeks, it didn't take much.  I turned around and stated I'd be going home... NOW.

Everyone followed knowing not to say a word.  They knew they'd pushed too hard.  And so off we went towards home.  Surprisingly we survived the drive as I was feeling my inner-Masshole shine through in a very aggressive manner.  Not pretty.

We arrived home and I went straight to my room and put on my pjs and went to bed.  At 6:45PM.  I don't think I've done that ever.  Unless I was sick.  My emotional state was so far beyond bad.  I just laid there.  I didn't read.  I didn't play on my ipad.  I just laid there in a fetal position just thinking. Thinking is not always a good thing.  I just wanted to walk away from it all.  It was such a desperate feeling of not wanting to be here with my family but to escape, go home to my mom and dad or just to leave here.  Let Josh take care of the kids and our lives.  I'm tired of playing second fiddle to everyone else.

Selfish I know.  And the selfish feelings only made me feel worse.  I'm so tired of having to prioritize myself after everyone else.  But last Saturday, I did - too bad I was feeling like shit and didn't want to see or speak to anyone.  The kids attempted to come in my room but were immediately dismissed away. But I couldn't attempt to socialize.  I was angry. I was sad.  I was upset about everything and nothing.  I just couldn't shake the feelings of sadness.  And I had no idea what would make me happy again.

Finally sleep came and I woke up on Sunday morning only to find that I felt no better.  That has never happened before.  I always, always try to start every morning fresh no matter how badly the day before had gone.  And yet, I could not pull myself out of bed.  It was a beautiful morning and yet, I didn't want to go running.  Knowing that there are only so many sunny days here, I knew I should go, but I couldn't.  My body just felt heavy is the only way I could describe it and not in a flu-like way.

Eventually I realized that the kids were both having their first playdates and while nothing felt worthwhile or important to me at that moment, I was determined to pull myself together to at least be presentable to their new friends.  Because nothing says "hello new family and welcome to our home" than a crazy mom who hasn't showered or gotten out of her pjs by 1PM.  And so I pulled from whatever strength I could muster, showered and got myself together.  I felt slightly better which at least was a good sign.

In the end, Liam's friend's mom hung out for the afternoon and it's amazing what a little social activity can do to your mood.  I felt infinitely better after they left, having put all my negative thoughts aside while they were here and found that when they left, most of those thoughts had dissipated.  Not 100% back to normal, but progressing in the right direction.

A week later, I'm feeling significantly better. In fact both Saturday and Sunday I woke up to snuggles from my favorite boys and felt that life cannot get much better.  I still don't know why I'm having such issues since I feel like we are acclimating better here than we did in Spain but for now I'm just rolling with the punches and letting my moods strike as needed rather than keeping them bottled up.  I know that this phase too, shall pass.  And it will.  We've been here before but perhaps in a different capacity. I won't let it get me down and recognize that where I was last week is not a place I have any desire to go back to.

Today marks four weeks in the Netherlands.  I've managed to have at least one breakdown each of those weeks.  And yet, I feel more at home here than I did in Spain.  Here's hoping week 5 is much better!!  Lots of positive entries on their way - between work, trying to get everyone settled with sports and activities and just trying to take everything in, there hasn't been a whole lot of time for writing but I'm catching up slowly but surely....

Besos,
Julie

Progress - Poco a Poco

If there is anything I learned by 4 1/2 years in Barcelona, it's to take life poco a poco - little by little. And it's that life lesson that I'm doing my best to apply here in the Netherlands - take things slowly and they will eventually all come together.

As we wind up week three, I feel like things are, in fact, falling into place.  Admittedly this week didn't start off all that great and looking back it feels like months ago and not days ago.  I had a huge meltdown on Monday, our anniversary.  Not great timing.  But since then I've been doing my best to take the bull by the horns and let the "Netherlands" know that I am in charge of things here - I will not let this new country, new culture and new everything get me down.  Realistically I know that wasn't my last meltdown, but for now, all is good in the world and I'm doing my best to embrace this opportunity to experience yet another culture and country and for our kids to really become third culture kids.

This week was full of settling down kinds of stuff.  Our BSN numbers (like social security) arrived yesterday so now we officially can have insurance, I can change over my drivers' license, we can sign the kids up for sports, finish paperwork for school, get officially signed up at the doctor's office, etc etc. It's our ticket to everything.  So all of that will be tackled next week... like I said, poco a poco.  But at least we've got the numbers and can start moving forward.

After Monday's meltdown, I was determined to make Tuesday better.  The sun was shining and I decided it would be the day I would sign the kids up for sports.  Ideally tennis and soccer.  And I was going to buy a Dutch bike the same day.  I had seen the sports club while riding my bike to the grocery store on Monday - while a huge complex, it was semi hidden by trees and had I not been on my bike, would likely have missed it many times driving by.

I went to what I thought was the main entrance of the sports club only to find it was a swimming pool. Score!  Kids need mandatory swim lessons (it's law with so much water around here) that they pass a swim exam.  Neither are thrilled to have to take lessons but I see too much benefit from it to even attempt to skip this one.  Anyways, I didn't realize there was a pool here so not only killing two birds with one stone but THREE!

If only it were that easy.  I've been spoiled thus far with so many people speaking English.  I didn't have that in Spain and it's just been so lovely to have people understand me.  Until I got to the pool. The woman who I think runs the swim classes didn't speak much English and what English she did know was mixed in with Dutch - she was acting as though she were speaking English but in fact was speaking kind of Dut-lish???  I got about every 4th word.  In the end, what I did understand is that we would do a swim assessment next Wednesday to see what level they both would start in.  Then we will figure out lessons.  I thought I understood 4 hrs per day each Sunday for 14 weeks but I'm really really hoping that was a misinterpretation.  Really.

I left there feeling a little defeated that I didn't know anything about the cost of classes, what day they would be (hoping they aren't Sun afternoons for the 4 hrs) and if they would be at the same time or different times and days.  My hope is that when we show up next Wednesday that there will be lots of English speaking people since it's a popular sports day as it's a half day in Dutch schools (and in our school).

Behind the pool area were the tennis courts so I headed that way.  I was surprised that there were no indoor courts given the horrendous weather.  I figured odds are they would play in a short season unlike in Barcelona where they played outside every weekend from October til June.  I approached the small clubhouse which didn't have a main desk and asked about lessons.  The woman running the bar area didn't know but gave me some papers and said to call the number and speak to Peter.  Again, I left there feeling like I hadn't garnered much but at least it was a start.  I'd contact Peter via email when I got home.

I continued walking as I saw a soccer field further ahead.  This place is HUGE!  But wait, there's another tennis club next to the first one???  This is all in the same sports complex so I thought that was weird.  Though I did remember my landlord saying there were two across the street from the grocery store (which is where I was) but I guess I thought there would be more than a 4 foot wire fence separating the two clubs.  I figured I might as well check this one out too.  My understanding is this one is more elite than the other.  Not necessarily our cup of tea but if I can get information here that I couldn't get next door, then I don't really care.  But no, this one had even less information and weren't very friendly, so they are now officially off my list.

I finally made it down to the soccer field.  There was a building at the end that looked like the main office for soccer.  I walked all around it.  There seemed to be no one there.  I saw a person nearby and asked her.  She had no idea where anyone was (yet she had a key to one of the supply doors so obviously worked there or something.  There was a poster on the door with information so I took a picture and figured once again I would email to get more info.

In the end, I spent about an hour and a half at this complex.  I didn't get anyone signed up for lessons. This is the learning curve I was talking about and trying to be patient.  It's a simple task and yet it's so difficult that I wanted to just go home and hang my head in defeat because the one task I wanted to complete was not.  Just one task.

So I decided to press on and go buy my bike.  I'd been riding my hybrid mountain bike around town and little grandmas are cruising past me at warp speed (I hear those bikes are electric so perhaps that's why but they were pedaling too!).  So I decided to bite the bullet and get myself a Dutch bike.  More on the bike itself later (that's a whole other post).  But let me tell you about Harry, the owner.  He was awesome.  All those feelings of defeat - he made me feel better.  Like a big teddy bear, he just made me laugh and smile and feel good about the world again.  It turns out he lives in our neighborhood and his sister lives here as well and he knows everyone and has assured me he's going to introduce me.

I bought a bike and Harry promised to deliver it the next day.  I left the shop feeling really good about the day despite the earlier shortcomings.  It's amazing how one good thing or one bad thing can really change the perspective of your day.

The following day was Wednesday, here that means half day school.  EVERY WEEK.  Yes, it's killer.
But I'm determined to make the best of it and spend some quality time with the boys.  While work is very important to me, I've been realizing that I have not been good about prioritizing the kids the last several months over work and moving and right now they need this time with me.  Though I will admit, it's often painful.  Ok, it's really really good and then there is that one moment where they start to fight and it all goes to shit.  But overall, good times.

But before I could spend the afternoon with them, I had a coffee morning with the moms at the school. I'd met a handful along the way the last few weeks but was looking forward to hopefully connecting with more.  It was not all I had hoped it would be.  Essentially the women I had already connected with are likely the ones that I will remain connected with and the rest, well, the rest didn't impress me upon this first meeting.  They were all nice enough but I wasn't drawn to them to pursue more than a passing hello kind of relationship.  You never know though.

And during this first meeting, which apparently was not just a typical coffee morning but also complete with agenda to discuss things like the Christmas party (already - I mean it's barely after the 1st of Sept!) but "best" of all was talk about the bathrooms.  A solid hour about the bathrooms and how they are not being properly cleaned and so some parents have taken on cleaning it and would like volunteers to help.  Ok, this is going to sound snobby but I'm saying it anyways.  I don't even clean my own bathrooms - that's why a cleaning lady comes every 2 weeks.  Much less am I going to clean a school bathroom.  And never ever ever in my life have I heard of parents having to clean a bathroom in ANY school... ever.  But they've obviously set a precedent here.  Coming from Barcelona where the bathrooms are immaculate, I was curious about the disaster I heard about so I asked Aidan later that day - his response... they are fine.  So there was a solid hour wasted of my morning hearing about what a mess these bathrooms are.  Yes, this is my introduction to the mom's coffee morning.  I think I'm one and done on the big group one.  Yup.

And so being Wednesday, I stuck around the (painful) coffee morning until it was time to pick up the kids at 12 and we went into Almere (which is the town where their school is) to the shopping area.  I needed a new vacuum, a slow cooker and an iron.  I know, super exciting right.  But I promised to take them out to lunch and then to the toy store too.

But first and foremost was lunch.  We haven't eaten out beyond take out pizza since we've arrived.  I don't "speak" Dutch menu yet.  But thanks to google translate and the fact that written Dutch is not all that bad to interpret (at least from a menu perspective) we were able to figure out what it was that we wanted.  While I can't pronounce any of it, I can figure out bits and pieces.  It's a start.  Poco a poco, right?  We each got a burger and (fabulous) fries at this great little place in the shopping area - definitely will return at some point.

The toy store was bigger than we had in Barcelona and was complete with a wall full of legos.  My kids' dream, right?  Liam got a set but Aidan decided to hold on to his money for a particular set he saw at a different toy store the weekend before.  After that is was off to Media Mart for my new vacuum. When did I get to that point in life where a new vacuum excites me?  It's sad.  But it did put a smile on my face.  No slow cookers there though so still on the hunt and not finding what I want on any of the Amazon European sites.

That evening, Harry arrived with my new bike.  Another thing I was way more excited than probably it warranted.  But whatever it takes to make me feel good about life here, I will take.  We chatted outside for a little bit and lo and behold his sister showed up at home, turns out she lives literally 2 doors down from me.  Both absolutely lovely people and felt connected right away.  His sister told me to come by any time for coffee or tea as she works from home as well.  I haven't been able to bring myself to just pop over yet but perhaps this week will be the week I manage to do just that.  After all, it's all about taking chances, if we want to make changes in our lives.  But leaving to get Josh that evening, I felt good, really good about how our day had gone and the fact that not only did we get some things done, but I managed to take the kids to lunch by myself (I remember that first lunch with Liam in Barcelona and how much it stressed me out) and that I met some new people.  Successful day.  Check!

Thursday was no school... seriously.  Wednesdays are half days because the teachers have continuing education in the afternoons.  Yet, Thursday was a study day so the teachers could have continuing ed. Don't get me wrong, I want the teachers learning but what are they not covering EVERY SINGLE WEDNESDAY that they need a full Thursday off too????  And in the third week of school? Anyways, I told the kids I had to work in the morning but then we'd go to a different toy store (with more legos) so they could spend their money on what they wanted as they didn't see much the day before.  And then we would come home and go for a bike ride with my new bike.

With the toy store done and even a little grocery shopping (painful with both kids as per usual), we came home and got ready for our bike ride.  It did not start out well.  At all.  Aidan flipped out because I made him wear a helmet.  Now mind you, Aidan has worn a bike helmet his ENTIRE LIFE when riding a bike, rollerblading or skateboarding.  So why he thinks that he can now stop just because Dutch kids don't wear them is beyond me.  And to any Dutch people I know, I mean no offense when I say it's stupid that your kids don't wear helmets.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not wearing a helmet (also likely stupid but I'm an adult capable of making these decisions for myself), but to not have your kid wear one when riding a bike among traffic is just dumb.  These bikers remind me of the motos in Barcelona - arrogant and entitled and less protected than those moto drivers were in Barcelona.  And I'm fearful that I will accidentally take one out at some point.  So you can bet my kid is wearing a helmet.

Anyways, tantrum ensued but we pressed on.  There was a whole lot of swearing on his end. Eventually we made it to the Vesting and along the path is a small petting zoo that also sells ice cream / popsicle bars.  So we stopped for a short break.  The kids got popsicles and fed the animals and all was good in the world.  And the teenagers that ran the place took pride in teaching the kids a few words in Dutch (not the choice words most teenagers would go with but names of the animals).

We continued on and Aidan's tantrum was now long forgotten.  We rode a total of 4 1/2 scenic miles. We rode entirely around the moat bypassing one side for the fields below.  While riding along the fields, we passed by tons of corn fields.  Admittedly, Aidan pilfered 2 pieces.  Turns out they are likely for feed only or else just not ripe - they cooked up bright orange instead of yellow (yet were yellow when picked and raw) and were hard, not soft like usual cooked corn.  It was an adventure for him though and yes, I did have the talk with him that stealing is not right and that the farmer wouldn't appreciate it.  It was a gorgeous ride and a total of 4 1/2 miles where they didn't stop except for the petting zoo.  Given that just one week previous, Liam stopped every 10 feet, this was a huge step in the right direction with our riding.

You're probably getting bored by now hearing about our little adventures, successes and failures during week three but I'm almost there, I promise.  Friday the kids were back to school and I had another coffee morning, this time just the moms in Aidan's class.  He's in a class of 14 kids (that's his entire grade mind you) so given that not all the moms can/want to attend, there were maybe 6 of us.  It was great.  I felt much more connected with this group than with the bigger group on Wednesday.  Between the few in Liam's class that I'm getting friendly with and this group, hopefully all will be ok socially at some point but it's still early to tell.

I went home and got some work done before leaving again to pick up the kids.  I chatted with some of the moms from the morning for about 40 minutes before we managed to leave school.  It felt good to connect at any level and just comfortable.  Hopefully there are more afternoons like this to come.

Overall it was a good week. It was a rough start, a few bumps along the way, but a good end... then along came Saturday...

Besos,
Julie

Learning Curve

As with anything new, there is a learning curve.  When you move to a new country that learning curve takes on a whole new meaning.  It takes time to acclimate, to get used to a new way of doing things and a new language that you need to interpret, to find where the grocery store is or the dry cleaners and even things as simple as getting a routine established to get to and from school.

I remember arriving in Barcelona and thinking that it wouldn't be so bad.  And that I would be up to speed in a matter of days.  Oh how wrong I was.  And it was like a slap in the face when reality hit.  As a result, I broke down.  I cried every day for months.  I functioned, don't get me wrong - I had no choice but to get things done that needed to get done.  But when I was alone (which was a lot) or had just a few minutes too long to think, I would break down.

Because it was hard.  It was so much harder than I ever imagined.  Not only was everything in a foreign language, it wasn't one I was even remotely familiar with.  It was all in Catalan which is a completely different language than Spanish (it is not a dialect as many assume).  At least I had high school level Spanish which I had hoped would at least get me started.  And it did.  Most everyone spoke Spanish, but most everything was written in Catalan.

It took time, a lot of time, to acclimate.  I don't know why I thought it would be easy initially. Establishing new routines.  Going from suburban life to city life.  Living without a car.  Learning how to shop for our food in several stores rather than at just the one big grocery store and let's not get started with having to interpret the food (yes, I know some things are easy to figure out but you tell me the difference between the 4 different types of meat that all have a cow picture but a different description when you don't speak the language). Finding doctors, communicating with doctors.  Getting the kids enrolled in sports that were run by the city and not the school.  There were so many factors that were new and different in addition to the language.  And each one presented us with a challenge that was needed to overcome.

Making connections was the biggest and toughest part of acclimating.  Think about it, if you have lived in any given place for a period of time, you have a circle of friends.  People come and go from that circle, but you always have a core group.  If you've moved any kind of distance, even if it's within your home country, you have to start over from scratch.  Totally and completely from scratch.  Now do it in a country where you don't speak the language and try to make those connections.  I work from home so I don't have an office to go to.  Parents of kids at the boys' school and co-workers of Josh's tend to be where I at least start to meet new people but those relationships still take time.

In time, things began to take on a sense of normalcy.  They were never 100% normal but pretty close given the challenges that life abroad constantly throws at you.  The rewards were amazing trips that we took - a lot.  Thank you Spain for your practically monthly long weekends.  And so we pressed forward always having a trip to look forward to down the line - motivation to push through.  Not to mention the experience we were able to give our kids, a once in a lifetime opportunity to live a life that not many people get the opportunity to enjoy.

After all we went through in Spain, I thought I would be (older and) wiser this time around.  But what I didn't realize is that it's not necessarily easier, I've just learned to accept that certain things are going to take more time initially and that hopefully, over time, those things will get easier.  And I've found that with certain things, I'm able to fast track the learning curve because I know what to expect and can head those things off.

Like those 4 different kinds of meat.  The first time I google translated every time to figure out which one I wanted.  My time in the grocery store (which was much bigger than the one I had in Barcelona) was probably close to 2 hours. The second time, I had a vague idea where the meat section was but still had to scroll down to recently translated items to refresh my memory on what I bought the last time.  Still spent well over an hour because I didn't know the layout of the store as well as I'd hoped.  By the third time, I was feeling much more confident and got out of there in less than 45 minutes.  In Spain my grocery store would take me 10 minutes, if that.  I'll get there again and I recognize that this is all a part of the learning curve.

But what I find interesting about the learning curve this time around is my ability to jump in without fear.  I remember it took me about a year before I was ready to get Aidan involved in sports again because I just wasn't sure how to go about doing it in Spain.  And yet, in our third week, while they aren't signed up yet, I've at least got the information I need for most of the sports they want to do.  I'm not afraid to figure it out.  And that is helping the learning curve exponentially.  It will also help us to integrate better.  Not to mention, once they are involved in sports, they'll be getting regular Dutch which will be good since all they get at school is considered "survival Dutch".

Fear seems to be the key trigger here.  Fear of the unknown.  Fear that someone won't understand me or that I won't understand them.  And fear of not being able to figure "xyz" out.  And you know what, this time I'm determined not to let the fear slow our integration down, though admittedly it helps that most people also speak English.  While there are going to be many bumps along this road, no doubt, it's how we handle them that shows how well we are progressing here.

And I think tackling fears is the only way to kick that learning curve's ass to the curb.  Yes, there is going to be a learning curve when getting to know a new culture, but it's how we handle it and approach it.  I'm doing my best to be patient and know that in time, things will seem like old hat like they eventually did in Barcelona.  Already we're getting to know our way around and to do things that I definitely wasn't ready to do in week 3 in Barcelona.  And I think the kids are feeding off my desire to do more and so they are being a little more adventurous as well as a result.

So I think that while the learning curve is definitely going to blindside us occasionally along the way with things we just didn't expect, it's how we handle those bumps in the road that will be integral to us progressing in an upward trajectory.  We know that it's not an easy road ahead, but that's by choice. Why take the easy road when we can take the one less traveled and truly experience life along the way. It will take some time, but hey, we're not going anywhere (or as we've learned along the way.... for now).

Besos,
Julie

State of Mind

So here we are, just 2 weeks into our new lives in the Netherlands.  I have to say, we're overall doing better than expected and definitely doing better than we did when we arrived in Spain.  That's not to say there aren't bumps in the road or bad days, because we most definitely do, but in the scheme of things, we're doing pretty good.

The kids are starting to make some friends.  Liam seems to be struggling a little more than Aidan but still seems to be hanging on and creating his new little pod.  Tonight as we were sitting around, one of the neighbor kids came over (with his mom because he didn't speak English) to see if Liam could come out to play.  I think it made his day to have a little buddy on our street.  And with play being universal, I don't see the language being a problem for him for long.

Aidan is basing his relationships on how long people will be here and where they will be going to school next year.  He's not sold on anyone in the neighborhood yet.  He met some kids at the neighborhood block party this weekend but they were a little older than him and he's still a bit guarded which is typical of him.  He doesn't let people in very easily but when he does, it's for life.

They met some kids at the block party but not all were nice to them.  Kids are not always kind unfortunately and with 2 foreign kids, they are "unique" which makes them a target for teasing.  But they both handled themselves well, though Liam did resort to his fists which I didn't like - however it was against a kid who was easily 15 so I admire the fact that he wasn't scared by his tormentor.

But while the kids are doing well overall, that doesn't mean we haven't had our fair share of tantrums. Given that I'm struggling on my own to "survive", dealing with their struggles is only making things more difficult for me.  Though at the same time, it's a welcome distraction from how I'm feeling about everything.

As always, Josh is fine.  It's annoying.  Like in Spain, he's had what appears to be zero learning curve and just takes to any new culture like it's normal life.  I'm envious of his ability to do this.  I also hate him a little bit because of it too.

For me, well, it depends on the day.  Today was not a good one.  Let's call it a bad Netherlands day. Yesterday was a good Netherlands day.  There have been pros and cons to each day and some times there are just too many cons.  I know it's early.  I know this is all to be expected.  But it's frustrating when all you want to do when you get up in the morning is go back to bed and wish that you were somewhere else, anywhere else, but here.  However, this is me we are talking about and while I want to go back to bed each morning, I push through and move on because it's all I can do.  If I slow down that is when I will break down.  And quite honestly, I have way too much on my plate to just go back to bed, the thoughts of what needs to be done would just stress me out more.

So each morning for the last 10 days I've been running again (with the weekend off).  I had stopped when the kids finished school in June and so need to work my time and distance back up but it's helping to clear my mind again.  And I need to clear my mind because it has not been in a good place.

I feel incredibly alone here.  It's reminiscent of Barcelona.  Only when I got to Barcelona, I already had one connection before I arrived and made another the day that I arrived.  Here, I have no one.  I've met a few people, maybe eventually they will become friends, who knows.  But as of now, they are people I've met and perhaps chatted with a bit - it's too early to define anyone as a friend.  But no one that I would call to ask if they can grab my kids because I have an emergency or to take the boys home with them because I need to get Josh to the doctor's for an appointment.  Zero support system.

I know it's early.  Like I said, it's only been 2 weeks.  But that's 2 long weeks when you are alone.  I focus on our daily needs.  Getting the house together.  Work (much needed to do!).  Errands to get things situated in the house - small appliances we didn't have, trying to plan sports for the kids, etc. Those things keep me focused on the here and now rather than on the fact that I'm feeling very isolated and alone.

The weather does not help.  In a word, it sucks.  It sucks bad.  It rains EVERY SINGLE DAY so far. It doesn't rain all day but it rains at least once every day from what I can tell and somedays it rains many times (I counted 10 times one day).  We're already in jeans and long sleeves, though I hear we may actually get short sleeve weather this week.

It's been nice weather for biking, that's a positive at least.  I've been trying to get out on my bike more since walking isn't as much an option here since things are more spread out.  And I have to say, there are bike paths EVERYWHERE.  I think you could actually bike the entire country.  And they are all well maintained that I've seen thus far.  I need to do some upgrades to my current bike or else get a "dutch" bike but I feel like I'm getting on the right track with it.  Plus I'm sick of being in the car.  I need to get out.

I'm chauffeuring the kids and Josh everywhere and that doesn't help.  Unfortunately, this is one thing I can't really do anything about.  In the city, I would walk around.  Here in the suburbs, there has just been no reason to do that.  So I will do my best to remain active - running and biking...and driving :(

The learning curve has been easier than the last time.  There will be more on that later.  And so as a result, I'm feeling better than I expected only 2 weeks in.  But I'm not happy.  Not by a long stretch. I'm angry.  I'm resentful.  I'm sad.  I'm depressed.  And then I look around where we are living and I feel guilty because it has to be one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen and we are so lucky to be here.  How can I have these feelings of sadness and depression when I'm somewhere so lovely and filled with people who are equally lovely so far.

Because I would give anything to be home right now.  But wait, I don't even know what or where home is any more.  I think it's a typical expat feeling of constantly being in limbo.  Of never feeling like you truly belong somewhere but no longer feeling like you belong home either.  I say I want to be back home in the US, but I don't necessarily know I want that either.  I feel like Jekyll and Hyde - constantly swinging on a pendulum of emotions.  Where do I belong?

I miss our lives in Spain.  I miss our friends.  But at the same time, we never fully integrated there either.  But it was the known - at least for the last 4 1/2 years.  It wasn't always that way, but at the end it was just where we lived and it was home for the time being.  I didn't cry when I left.  I cried when I left the US 4 1/2 years ago.  Does that mean something?  I don't know.

Our arrival in the Netherlands came at a good time, yet a bad time.  Good because the kids didn't have time to think before they jumped into our new lives here.  We arrived and they started school the following day.  But just 2 weeks in, Josh and I celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary.  And to put it simply, I don't care.  That sounds horrible, I know.  And I feel horrible thinking it.  This is a man I've spent the last 20 years with, have shared my heart and soul with... and I just don't give a shit about our anniversary.

There was no time for me to plan anything and I feel caught off guard that way.  I found some cards at a market the other day but didn't have the heart to write anything in them.  Primarily because I have nothing nice to say.  Yes, I love Josh.  But I'm not liking him right now.  None of this is his fault - directly.  But someone has to take the blame for us being here.  And it's him.  We've been through it before when we got to Barcelona.  And eventually things went back to normal and I'm confident that they will again - we've been thru the ringer and this is just a small bump along the way.  But here we are at 10PM on our anniversary and I can't stop crying about the fact that I ruined our anniversary because of my anger that we have moved... again.  When I barely acknowledged his existence today and when I did, it was with short, curt words and an evil look in my eye.  When I don't even know what I want in the first place.

If anything, Josh has gone above and beyond this year trying to keep our family together.  And yet, I feel so much anger and resentment, I don't know what to do with myself.  It's not where I want to be - emotionally and physically.  I don't know where I want to physically be - I don't know that I would be happy in the US.  I think we were ready to leave Spain.  And I am not happy here.  I'm sure I will be given time, but at this moment in time, I'm not.

I'm exhausted.  I'm tired of living in another language. I feel weak just admitting that.  And I'm lucky that here many speak English but nothing else is in English - not the food, not a menu, not an item in a store, not the doctor's office website or voice mail, not the road signs, not the radio, not the sports, not even the school website.  I'm tired of the constant roller coaster of emotions, breakdowns, etc.  I'm tired of crying.  I'm tired of feeling alone.  I'm tired of being isolated.  Hell, I'm tired of not having a dryer for my clothes.

It feels selfish to say all of this because I know how lucky we are to have this opportunity and that I need to open my mind to the adventures ahead of us.  Especially for the kids and what all of this means for them.  And I have no regrets about any of this journey.  But I'm fucking exhausted.  I'm done. I'm toast.  And I'm angry that my wedding anniversary was tainted by this anger and frustration.

Like anything in life, I know that this too shall pass.  It happened when we moved to Barcelona and like anything in life, time heals all wounds.  Or at the very least, time covers the pain.  At some point, I will have less breakdowns.  I will have the realization that I can either wallow in my sorrow or put on my big girl panties and take charge of this life, no matter where we are located.  I know it will be the latter but for today, just for today, I need to let myself take the low road and cry it out.

Tomorrow is a new day... I hear there may be sun...

Besos,
Julie

Day 1...Into the Fire (Immersion 101)

As I mentioned in my last post, Josh went to work on day 1.  I could have killed him - angry doesn't even come close on that one.  I felt incredibly alone and abandoned.  There is nothing like being thrown into the fire and start our new lives by myself.  What could I do?  I couldn't stay home.  The kids had to go to school and I had to figure out how to function. And I had to unpack and get back to work.

Josh left at 7:15 - the kids and I didn't need to leave until after 8.  I suppose on a positive note, we get an extra 30 minutes in the morning that we didn't have in Barcelona.  It was raining off and on again like it did when we arrived.  An hour of sun, an hour of rain, an hour of sun, an hour of rain.  It goes on and on like that.  It's sunny one moment and pouring the next.

Aidan woke up and said we need to turn the heat on.  In August.  I can't say that I totally disagree (sadly it has since been turned on... in August I must reiterate).  Barcelona this is not.  Unfortunately I didn't anticipate it to be this cold in August and so hadn't located their cold weather clothes yet and shipped anything I had purchased.  In Barcelona they are normally in shorts until November.  Even in Boston, they would have been in them at least til mid September!

Breakfast in our new kitchen

In front of our house ready to go - notice the raincoats - good investment!

In front of their new school

Aidan's new classroom

Liam in his new class

Regardless, I had to send them to school in shorts.  Driving wasn't a big deal thanks to my GPS. Thankfully Josh had pre programmed pretty much anywhere I would need to go for the foreseeable future into it, including school.  Unfortunately the GPS got the school address wrong (the school was on the right and it told me to turn left - but at least it was the same street, though we were lost for a few minutes trying to figure it out) but thankfully had built in a few extra minutes into our trip to school not knowing what traffic would be like, etc.

I can honestly say that right off the bat, I felt better about getting the kids to school than I did in Barcelona.  I remember clearly the desperate feeling of not knowing how to navigate the public transportation to get Aidan to school his first day in Barcelona (the school had recommended he not take the bus the first few days but for me to bring him and pick him up).  In the end in Barcelona, I took a taxi.  On Monday, I drove and I felt pretty good about it.  We were there in 15 minutes even with getting lost.

Knowing that their school is also a Dutch school, I wasn't sure where we had to enter or where to go. We never received information on what to do upon arrival.  The good news is that it's a small school, only grades pre-k through grade 5 and only one section per grade.  So we couldn't get too lost.  But they had everything under control and very easily corralled all the new students into a lobby area - we must have all had that lost look on our faces.  Liam looked incredibly nervous and I don't blame him - this is his first new school.  Aidan looked in control, typical of him and maybe it's because it's the second time around he feels like he can handle it.  They then brought everyone upstairs to their classrooms where the other students and teachers were waiting.  Parents were allowed to go up with the kids - a challenge for me with 2 kids and only one of me.

There are 14 kids in Aidan's class, a switch from last year where he had around 20.  Liam, on the other hand, who had always been in the small class (last year was 14) was now the opposite, with the largest class in school of 20 kids.  And I thought Benjamin Franklin was small in Barcelona!  So there are 14 kids in grade 5 (year 7 at this school) and 20 kids in grade 2 (year 4).  That's it.  I'm going to say we will get to know everyone really well here.  The school doesn't feel like BFIS did but it's only day 1 so we'll give it time.  Apparently they have a ton of after school activities so that would be different from their old school in a positive way.

I met a very nice couple who had also just moved here as we were getting ready to leave.  Their son is in Liam's class and they have been living abroad for a while as well.  I chatted with them for about 45 minutes.  Lovely people and hopefully a connection made already.  It felt really good to meet people off the bat as I don't feel quite as alone and it's only day 1.

I was feeling pretty good considering the circumstances and the day before knowing that I successfully dropped off the kids to school and met a new family.  So far so good.  Then I got home.  And I couldn't open the front door.  Induce meltdown in 5, 4, 3...

I called Josh freaking out.  He offered to come home.  I told him I didn't want to see him now or any time soon.  I think he realized that he should not have gone to work on our first day.  He admitted as much.  Didn't make me any less angry though.  I spent a good 10 minutes trying to open the front door, practically in tears.  And of course, it was raining out.

Finally, I gave up trying to open the door and went next door hoping perhaps someone would be home that could help me.  I figured maybe there was something different about these Dutch doors as compared to any other door I've ever used?????  The benefit of being in a country where many people speak English is that I suspected that my neighbor would speak it and in fact, he did.  And coincidentally, he had also lived in Spain with his wife for 6 years and had just returned back about a year ago.

He helped me with the door - turns out that something is weird with our lock and you have to pull it towards you as you unlock it and then push it in.  Very strange but now I get it.  It seems that the door automatically locks when you close it too so I need to be conscious of making sure I always have a key when I leave the house.

I chatted with my neighbor for a bit.  Really nice guy and felt like perhaps I made a second connection for the day.  All in all, not bad for day 1.  But by now it's 10:30 and I had to leave at 11:30 to pick up the kids at noon since the first day was a half day.  I accomplished basically nothing on day 1.

I picked up the kids and they had a great first day, a huge relief for me.  I'm not sure what I would have done if they'd had a bad day though.  And don't get me wrong, we've still been having meltdowns about how sad they are that we are no longer in Barcelona - it's all a part of the grieving process for each of us.  And we went through the same thing when we left the US years ago as well.

I'm still not feeling great about everything but much better than I did yesterday.  I feel like we made a lot of progress in just one day and we're already more immersed than we were in Barcelona at this point.  It feels less scary than Barcelona did early on and so I need to take that as a positive.  There are still many things left on our to do list such as BSN numbers (social security), getting signed up for sports, converting my license, etc etc and so I don't think we will really feel settled for several more weeks but we are making progress.

On a random note, I found out that while some stores are open on Sundays here (nothing in Barcelona was open on Sunday other than restaurants), most places don't open til 1PM on Monday, everything closes by 6PM during the week except Thursday where they are open later.  So we'll have some new schedules to get used to here as well on top of everything else!  But on a positive note, I won't have siesta to contend with!!

Besos,
Julie

Touchdown (and Breakdown) in Amsterdam!

I should have seen it coming, and yet I didn't.  Almost a year of extreme emotions and yet somehow I thought we would land in Amsterdam and we would start our new lives like it was no big deal.  I obviously haven't learned from our previous experience of moving to Barcelona.

But that's just it, I thought I had learned.  When we arrived in Barcelona a little less than 5 years ago, it was hard, but I don't remember having a meltdown on my FIRST DAY.  I feel like it was at least a few days in before those feelings of desperation and loneliness set in.  Of feeling completely helpless in a new place where you know no one, where everything is unfamiliar.

Sadly, I'm pretty sure I know what set this meltdown off.  And I'm embarrassed by it because I'm tough enough to handle these situations by now and this should not have been a trigger, but it was.  A few days before we arrived in Amsterdam, Josh told me he would be going to work on Monday, the day after we arrived.  My understanding was that he was going to be home on Monday and help me get the kids ready for school and help me to get situated, find the grocery store, that kind of thing.  But no, he was going to be going to work and I was on my own, on the first full day.  And for some reason (I suppose an understandable reason), that was completely freaking me out.  I was already angry of my impending situation and I wasn't even there yet.

And yet, when the kids and I were flying here overnight Saturday/Sunday, I was in complete control. Ready to face the world.  Ready for our new adventure in yet another unfamiliar place but yet excited at the prospects of what was to come.  While I was disappointed that we weren't moving back to the States as we had initially planned, I was also doing my best to fully embrace this new opportunity for us to once again live a life less ordinary.

We got off the plane and I just wanted to get there.  To get started.  I was actually feeling pretty good overall.  I knew we had a lot to do and very little time to do it in since the kids started school the next day.  It was raining, it should have been a sign.  As I write this, one week later, today is the first day where it hasn't rained the majority of the day. That's for another entry.  We found a taxi and headed towards "home".  The three of us were a little ambivalent, which was understandable, but also relieved to finally, after all these months, to be "there".

We had been to the house before so we had an idea of what to expect.  I had told Josh to only unpack the kitchen and the bedding - that's it.  Another set back there that threw me over the edge.  It was stupid but it was a trigger.  And to this day, I feel terrible because I know that he was trying his best and all I could do was tell him it was all wrong.  How horrible is that?  He was getting up at 6AM the past 2 days to try to unpack for us and all I could tell him was that it was wrong.  I'm a bitch and I feel ashamed of the way I acted.  He was so well meaning and I trashed it all and not in a nice way either.

But the damage was done at that moment.  I hated it.  I hated it here.  I hated the house.  With a passion. I hated everything about what was going on.  And I began to cry.  Not just a little crying but hysterical sobbing like someone I know had been murdered kind of crying.  I couldn't control it and I couldn't stop.  Every time Josh would approach me, I would lash out at him in intense anger that I could not control - I hated him too.  After all, if it weren't for him, we wouldn't be here.  I'm not saying it's right, but it's how I felt at that given moment.

Maybe it was the emotions of the last year finally coming out.  I had had a small breakdown here and there over the last (almost) year but this was the first time I was finally grieving for the loss of my opportunity to return back to the US, for us leaving Barcelona, for how sad I had been for the last year and for so much more.  It was also because I knew what was ahead - that moving to a new country is no easy feat and not for the weak of heart or mind.  And I knew that day 1 was going to be a full on immersion into my new home country.  In a nutshell, I was scared.

And I was overwhelmed.  Again, for some reason I didn't anticipate this despite having gone through it before.  Perhaps it was because I had been through it before that I thought it would be easier only to find that in fact, it wasn't.

In the end, it was a variety of factors that contributed this unbelievable breakdown.  It wasn't pretty but I'd like to think it's all a part of the transitional progress when moving to another country.  Given this is only my second time moving to another country, I don't have a routine or expectations surrounding the process and maybe that is what caught me off guard, thinking that since I did it once, it would be easier this time around.

I should note that the kids did fabulous - a thousand times better than me.  It was raining so they didn't get to be outside at all but they were excited with the unpacking process and were concerned when they saw me totally meltdown.  I'm sure it wasn't a good example for them to see - so much for keeping those emotions to myself in order to help them transition.  But they just focused on finding their things and getting themselves settled.

The good news is I'm feeling better.  It's been a week now but I've got a few other post to put up before I give my update on how the week went in a nutshell but know that we are here, we are doing ok, and while there is worse to come as far as entries go, we are getting settled with some bumps along the way, but we're getting there...

Besos,
Julie