I don’t know if it’s being a TCK (wikipedia’s definition) or if it’s something else, but my ‘nesting’ instincts as they like to call it are showing up in really strange ways.
Instead of wanting to set down roots and create a stable environment for our baby boy, I’m trying to think of ways that he won’t ever be settled. I’m already planning trips for his first year of life, imagining times when we aren’t ‘tied’ to living in London. I want to make sure he can see the world as a borderless land where he has every choice he could ever want and be understanding of culture, life and people.
Dear Moves-a-lot-Junior,
Your life is going to be full of surprises, twists and turns, and unexpected people. You will always be loved, you will always be cared for, you will always be free to think for yourself and become the best you there is to be.
I want you to learn for yourself that no person in this world is inferior to others. Every country has its own unique and beautiful culture. Just because you haven’t ever tasted or seen something before does not mean it’s ‘weird’. It’s just different from what you know.
You will grow up seeing beauty in everything, the best in every person. You will have a deep understanding of love and what it actually means, and you will go out into the world with curiosity and open eyes.
I love you so much already, and I can’t wait for you to experience all these things with us. You will love it, little man.
Friday, May 21
Monday, May 17
Restlessness.
Every day, around after lunch I’ve started feeling very restless. Some might call it itchy feet, but I just call it my past catching up with me.
I’d very much like to take an early day off of work, get home and start packing. Conrad and I will pack all of our things into a couple of suitcases (including baby stuff, of course), grab Snoopy and his lead (and of course, poop bags), lock up the house (with lights on for winter-time, so people think there’s someone home). And go. We have enough gas in the car to make it to France, I’m sure – once we get over (or under) the channel we can just go whichever way we choose. Perhaps a bit of brie and rich red wine on the way through France, a few stops along the way to eat duck and steak and walk along rivers and buy endless amounts of baguettes and pastries. I’m not sure where we should go next. How do you feel about Spain? I wouldn’t mind seeing some more of that Gaudi architecture, I do like the blues and greens and the tiles and the cave-like buildings. We’ll then perhaps take a turn towards Italy. Yes? Italy, I miss Rome – let’s go see the ruins and soak up the intensity of Italian spirit. I wouldn’t mind some creamy pasta, I could drink a nice cool glass of Pinot Grigio, definitely. Once our feet are too tired, we’ll sit at a café and drink coffee with lots of foam on top. When we’re done, we’ll walk till we can’t walk anymore and we’ll have another one. When we run out of coffee money, we’ll buy lemon fanta and sit in a piazza, not caring that we’re poor. We’ll then drive out to the coast to a small town (shall we choose Chivitavekia?) where no-one will know what we’re saying and we think everyone is angry at us – but really they’re not! Now then, I know where I want to go now – let’s go to Switzerland. Let’s visit my home. I will take you swimming in the Rhine in the height of summer, we will find paths that nobody knows, we will laugh at their choice of footwear and walk giddily through the main street of small town. I will feel at home, I will feel a different kind of normal. We will walk along the river to buy ice cream, I will show you the Munot and the way of life. We’ll need to take a train, because that is an essential! We will leave just on time and arrive when we’re supposed to. The streets will look like postcards, and I’ll know I belong there that day.
There are so many more places to go, but my mind is tired now. Perhaps I’ll just stay here in my office in London and dream about it, but you’ll still be there with me.
I’d very much like to take an early day off of work, get home and start packing. Conrad and I will pack all of our things into a couple of suitcases (including baby stuff, of course), grab Snoopy and his lead (and of course, poop bags), lock up the house (with lights on for winter-time, so people think there’s someone home). And go. We have enough gas in the car to make it to France, I’m sure – once we get over (or under) the channel we can just go whichever way we choose. Perhaps a bit of brie and rich red wine on the way through France, a few stops along the way to eat duck and steak and walk along rivers and buy endless amounts of baguettes and pastries. I’m not sure where we should go next. How do you feel about Spain? I wouldn’t mind seeing some more of that Gaudi architecture, I do like the blues and greens and the tiles and the cave-like buildings. We’ll then perhaps take a turn towards Italy. Yes? Italy, I miss Rome – let’s go see the ruins and soak up the intensity of Italian spirit. I wouldn’t mind some creamy pasta, I could drink a nice cool glass of Pinot Grigio, definitely. Once our feet are too tired, we’ll sit at a café and drink coffee with lots of foam on top. When we’re done, we’ll walk till we can’t walk anymore and we’ll have another one. When we run out of coffee money, we’ll buy lemon fanta and sit in a piazza, not caring that we’re poor. We’ll then drive out to the coast to a small town (shall we choose Chivitavekia?) where no-one will know what we’re saying and we think everyone is angry at us – but really they’re not! Now then, I know where I want to go now – let’s go to Switzerland. Let’s visit my home. I will take you swimming in the Rhine in the height of summer, we will find paths that nobody knows, we will laugh at their choice of footwear and walk giddily through the main street of small town. I will feel at home, I will feel a different kind of normal. We will walk along the river to buy ice cream, I will show you the Munot and the way of life. We’ll need to take a train, because that is an essential! We will leave just on time and arrive when we’re supposed to. The streets will look like postcards, and I’ll know I belong there that day.
There are so many more places to go, but my mind is tired now. Perhaps I’ll just stay here in my office in London and dream about it, but you’ll still be there with me.
Sunday, May 16
A thought
I think I may have control issues. This has just come to me now, after 28 years of living.
I am 5 and a half months pregnant, therefore I do not have control over certain things. I make a plan for my super-productive day and I get to about a third of the tasks and crash out. This angers and upsets me. Sat from my lazy position on the couch, I try and think of ways I can get up and carry on, but in all truth - I can't! All energy is sapped out.
Rather than being thankful for the excuse to rest, or being cautious because it's important to save up energy for the week ahead, I just get mad. And cranky that the wonderful feeling of productivity and purposefulness is so far beyond me right now.
So yes, something I didn't expect about pregnancy: Complete annoyance about lack of the control I have over the situation.
I am 5 and a half months pregnant, therefore I do not have control over certain things. I make a plan for my super-productive day and I get to about a third of the tasks and crash out. This angers and upsets me. Sat from my lazy position on the couch, I try and think of ways I can get up and carry on, but in all truth - I can't! All energy is sapped out.
Rather than being thankful for the excuse to rest, or being cautious because it's important to save up energy for the week ahead, I just get mad. And cranky that the wonderful feeling of productivity and purposefulness is so far beyond me right now.
So yes, something I didn't expect about pregnancy: Complete annoyance about lack of the control I have over the situation.
Friday, May 14
Missing people, missing things, missing ways of life. This is just a normal part of my upbringing and is just another part of normal life. Sometimes it hits harder than others. The fact that I can’t ever casually see my brother and sister, that I can’t pop by my brothers house to congratulate him on one of the most exciting things that’s happened in centuries; his recent engagement. My sister can’t see my growing tummy, and can’t talk to me about exciting things to do with her becoming an aunt and just generally be a sister.
This is before mentioning the fact that all my good friends I’ve had throughout my life don’t live anywhere near me (excluding Conrad, of course). A lot of times I feel friendless – when asked what I’m doing with my time, I don’t have that old friend that I can meet up with over the weekend, I don’t have the fail-safe people that I can call to who know me without me having to explain myself.
Most of the time I don’t think about it, this is the life I have, I obviously can’t complain. But every now and then I miss certain people that were really seriously important to me. People who got me straight away and really cared about me. I will never see these people again, that is just a fact. They are still in constant transient position far away from the UK. I do not have the disposable income to travel to wherever they are living at any given time. If I did have the money, I would visit my family, visit the places that still own part of my soul.
Ah, then there is missing places. Homes I cannot drive past and peek through the window, homes that are entire cities, entire country smells that I miss deeply. I dream of them sometimes, that I’m there. I dream that I’ve finally taken Conrad to my home – that he can see that part of me he never really could understand because it so vastly different from where we exist in now.
It bugs me when people don’t understand all these feelings, but they never can. I can never be in five places at once; I can never be with all the people I love. That is definite. It’s hard when people see things so one-dimensionally. When culturally they can be so unaware, so near-sighted. The world is not England. England is not the centre. The way English people live isn’t the ‘right way’, isn’t the ‘norm’. Going away for 2 weeks - or shock! A month! Does not mean you will understand me, does not mean you understand how it feels to be so very scattered and fractured. England is not my home.
This is before mentioning the fact that all my good friends I’ve had throughout my life don’t live anywhere near me (excluding Conrad, of course). A lot of times I feel friendless – when asked what I’m doing with my time, I don’t have that old friend that I can meet up with over the weekend, I don’t have the fail-safe people that I can call to who know me without me having to explain myself.
Most of the time I don’t think about it, this is the life I have, I obviously can’t complain. But every now and then I miss certain people that were really seriously important to me. People who got me straight away and really cared about me. I will never see these people again, that is just a fact. They are still in constant transient position far away from the UK. I do not have the disposable income to travel to wherever they are living at any given time. If I did have the money, I would visit my family, visit the places that still own part of my soul.
Ah, then there is missing places. Homes I cannot drive past and peek through the window, homes that are entire cities, entire country smells that I miss deeply. I dream of them sometimes, that I’m there. I dream that I’ve finally taken Conrad to my home – that he can see that part of me he never really could understand because it so vastly different from where we exist in now.
It bugs me when people don’t understand all these feelings, but they never can. I can never be in five places at once; I can never be with all the people I love. That is definite. It’s hard when people see things so one-dimensionally. When culturally they can be so unaware, so near-sighted. The world is not England. England is not the centre. The way English people live isn’t the ‘right way’, isn’t the ‘norm’. Going away for 2 weeks - or shock! A month! Does not mean you will understand me, does not mean you understand how it feels to be so very scattered and fractured. England is not my home.
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