Seasons

Spring rains are here. The Carolina jasmine is blooming along my back deck and the camelia is blooming in front of the front porch. Stripping wallpaper, painting a porch swing, and unpacking boxes have been my activities of late. I finally found the hardware to a very important wardrobe that I hope will bring organization to the playroom (which at present looks like it was hit by a tornado). How in the world will this task of unpacking and settling in ever be finished and everything in its place? Will everything ever have its own place? I hope so, because I think my heart will be more settled when all of our belongings are more settled as well.

Today I went to talk with SA's class about France. They sampled a baguette and some French cheeses. We sang "Frere Jacques" and I introduced them to the names of the colors and some farm animals in French. It was a short introduction to French, but it was fun to see SA proudly tell her class the names ofthe colors in French. Just yesterday we were listening to a CD (in French) and she asked me what they were singing about. I told her in French and she asked me to explain in English. Then while wating for an appointment she was playing with her French laptop that she played wtih for hours on end after Christmas before the move. This time she became frustrated because she didn't understand a game. She is forgetting already and it breaks my heart. I know that it will come back later when she begins to study or hang out with French people again, but I can't help but be sad. It is such a gift to be able to speak another language and I don't want her to lose the ability that she had. Everyone says that this is bound to happen when one returns to an English speaking country, but I guess I was hoping that it wouldn't happen to us.

I have just been opening every unopened box in search of the hardware for the wardrobe and as I was opening and going through boxes and boxes of stuff I came across a champagne cork in my jewelry. It is the cork of the champagne that we drank at the hospital after CG was born. A friend of mine who is a sage femme (midwife) came to visit me and when she learned of my "dechire" (tear) she smiled and said that CG was like "le petit bouchon du champagne" (champagne cork), so I kept this cork because it reminds me of my friend and of CG's birth. There are so many memories that we have of "la France" but it really seems like a dream now. We were just there 2 months ago but now we are here and everything is so completely different. I can't help but miss the familiar (never thought I would think of France as the familiar) and the home where SA lived from 6 mos to almost four and CG from 0-16 mos. I was a stranger there, but that little town and that little house endeared itself to me over the years. The neighbors were kind to me and we made some very good friends there.

This week we got word that our very kind next door neighbor passed away. He was the one who helped me when I got locked out of the house with SA in the house (see this post). He gave me a beautiful bone-handled pocket knife and told me that every good Auvergnate should have a pocket knife, so as I have been opening my boxes I have been thinking of him. His health started to deteriorate at the end of 2007, but he and his wife still always watched from their living room window and waved to us as SA rode her bike on the tennis court across the street from their house. He even walked over with his oxygen tank this past summer in order to help us with a plumbing problem. Before the move he became bed-ridden along with his wife and they called me a couple of times for help. We visited with them before we left and D prayed for them. He was such a kind man. He had seen many seasons of life, and he was God's provision in my life on several occasions. I am impressed by the importance of relationships today and how we touch one another's lives over the days, weeks, months, and years. I miss my home in France this week- my friends, and yes, even the language. It was a season of life for which I am grateful. Because of those relationships, I see the world differently. Because of that experience I hope that I am more full of grace with others.

Toe Troubles and other Woes

So we were enjoying the lovely weather and taking advantage of the opportunity of daylight savings time in order to meet and chat with the neighbors outside last week. SA was riding around the driveway on her bike and struggling to pedal a little uphill. She very slowly and with all of her might (while standing up on the pedals and leaning to the right)rolled over my hammer toe with her right training wheel. A hammer toe is already an embarrassingly ugly appendage, and after being fractured and swollen it looks even more lovely. Anyway, the chaos that I have been hoping to quell in the house is just getting worse and so is my toe. It feels much better this weeek pain wise but it is pointing downward instead of out like the other toes. This makes walking, unpacking, cleaning, and chasing around my 17 month old more challenging and worrisome as I am hoping that I do not have an even more deformed toe than I did already. At least before I had no mobility issues. I went back to the doctor and they taped 3 of my toes together. Hopefully that will help and I will see a foot specialist next week. Oh la la. The drama. The whole move/ sharing a car/ transitioning thing was enough drama without this foot drama. But then as my good friend reminded me, "This too shall pass."

Still Reeling

To "reel" means to be in a whirl or to behave in a disorderly manner. Disorder characterizes my house at this time and I certainly feel as if I am in a whirl(a disorderly one? yes!) My children are not sure where they are when they wake up, and I do not find this surprising as we have been in two different temporary housing apartments- one in France and one here, then we moved into our house and took a road trip less than a week later to Nashville, and now we are back at "our house"- with suitcases still open on the floor, most things still lost in the mass of boxes, and furniture that is not quite arranged yet. To top it all off, Daddy is gone to Thailand for two weeks. SA has changed schools, they both have had various caregivers over the past couple of months, we have used several cars in the past couple of months,and we've visited different churches as well. Everything has changed for them, and while I feel in a whirl personally, I cannot imagine how they must feel at all of the life changes that have been happening lately. Not to overdramatize the situation, I know kids are resilient, and thank God, because in this family they have to be. This week especially, SA has been talking about her friends in France and telling me that she wants to go back there. I have to admit I have been pretty nostalgic this week and missing life there too. It's a strange sort of feeling- being back in the US but not really being connected here. I'm still connected to people there and my children are more connected to people there than here (barring the grandparents, of course). After all they have lived most of their lives in France and not the US. We do plan to remain connected to people there (I am hoping everyone gets their webcams ready soon), but I need to choose to live in the here and now and patiently wait for the connections that will be formed here, gradually.


This week I am looking forward to spending time with the girls and getting settled into our new home more (a process that it is sure to take months) and just getting comfortable in our new surroundings. Hopefully we will establish a new routine that will provide more stability and consistency to their little lives (and mine too). Routine is sort of comforting. Those "d'habitudes" that are so darn important to the French- lunch break promptly at noon, closed stores between 12 and 2, nothing open on Sunday, and random closed days depending on the store and/ or the town all make for a rhythm of life that is distinctly not American. All of the things that I used to wonder why they couldn't just break out of, seem rather comforting now. It is nice to know that some things are sure- you know like the sunrise and sunset- in France you just get the "this is the way we do things here" feeling. So, when I was there, some of those things seemed like frustrating inconvenient constraints, but I adjusted to them and now they seem comforting- I guess you can tell that I am ready to find a rhythm in my new life here.

Tonight when we pulled up to our house after having dinner with friends, SA said, "Are you sure this house is ours, Mommy?"