the expat mum blues

Ever have a friend you like as a person but totally disagree with them as a parent? or the other way around? 

As an expat mum of young kids, a lot of the acquaintances I make are through the kids' kindergarten on the school playground. So it happens that I might quite like a person until -  Bam! I see her interact with her child and then realize that we have totally different values on quite important things. This becomes totally blatant if the said mother's child hits/snatches/kicks one of mine/somebody else's kid and the mother does not intervene at all or ineffectively. Believe it or not, it actually puts quite a strain on the (potential) relationship.

On the other hand, you can also spend time with mums who share similar values in terms of child rearing (and whose kids have a happy friendship with mine) but with whom you might not share a great deal with otherwise. 

I guess this goes with the play-date territory and it is certainly exacerbated by the fact that E & W attend an International School where all kinds of nationalities and cultures showcase many different values and ways.  In a non-expat situation I imagine this is balanced out by the fact that you still manage to see your school-day/work-day friends more.

Right now, my favorite people to talk to are my hairdresser, my pediatrician, (who are both Mums) my yoga teacher (a Mum and grandmum) and my pilates teacher (trying to have kids).... Perhaps because parental values are not tested through hard reality with these people and because we mostly talk about other things. I've also realized these are working people who are not spending their days just shopping, cooking, child minding, gossiping, making themselves beautiful etc.  Oh! how I sometimes wish I could have a another job than being a full time expat mum. 

Here is quite a good talk with my beloved child psychotherapist, Rachel Melville-Thomas,  on how to help children choose good friends.

Emma on her way to a birthday party

 William food shopping with Mum - he loves fruit!

First hols of the year...

After a lovely long week-end visit from our youngest Grand-parents for Catholic Easter we are now heading off to Vienna for a short week with the kids.

the four of them testing our new sand-bench

Emma and Pata taking a break in the shade at the bicycle park

It was great; I loved watching the kids enjoy every second of having their grand-parents here - I wish it was something that expat life allowed more of - and the change of schedule to the sunny summer rhythm with drinks, food, restaurants, beach walks, bike rides and visits to the touristy side of Athens means we got an early start to our first holidays (this year) too.

I cannot believe it has been 6 months since we left Vienna. I am eager to be there again, to walk down its streets, taste the food at our habitual market, a coffee at our usual coffee shops and see familiar faces. I am also interested to see how it makes us feel vis à vis to living in Greece. Will we feel saddened? or on the contrary will our visits highlight the positive sides to our life here now ? or both? 

I am glad we stuck to our expat rule of plunging into the new life for the first six months but now I am eager to catch the plane and go. 

I am also eager to see how traveling and staying in a hotel goes with nearly 5 year old Emma and nearly 2 year old William (his last flights without a seat!) ... after a week-end stint to Budapest with a nearly 2 year old Emma we totally dropped the idea as it was far more exhausting and frustrating than staying home!

More soon...

new doctors and William at 20 months

One of the key things to find when you move especially if you have any sort of medical condition and kids - are good doctors.  Hopefully I have started tackling that mountain.

Yesterday I saw 3 doctors!!! It just so happened that I got some references and my act into gear and appointments all bunched up.

The first was a gynaecologist; he was lovely as well as German, fluent in English, married to a Greek woman pediatrician, father of 3 kids, trained in Munich and ready to take the time to explain all possible contraception that might work for me. I nearly had the impression I had gone for coffee with a friend. 

The second was a very renowned endocrinologist (for my thyroid) and although I am a bit wary of the "very renowned" as they can be professor-ish and not good with patients, I really liked this one. He also took a lot of time to explain things and checked my thyroid (with his hands) and prescribed blood tests that made sense. We talk on Monday.

The third was for William - we saw his pediatrician, Poppy, for his pneumococcal vaccine. We also measured and weighed him and so we have some numbers.

William, 20 months:

• 86 cm tall
• 12,5 kg
• very smily and happy and still not very talkative except for:

1. Mamaaah 
2. Papap' 
3. Mameuuuh
4. nez (nose in French)
5. teuk (take or tiens we are not really sure and perhaps neither is he)
6. ça (this in French)
7. up (for pick up, put up, go up the stairs but also sometimes for open)
8. "co" for "encore" (more in French)
9. "haa" for hot
10. Aema (Emma)

In our case, girls are really faster talkers than boys!

What else?

• nods his head for "yes", shakes for "no"
• points and pulls you and shows you where to sit if you are not sitting in your usual place
• brings you his plate when he is hungry
• loves emptying the dishwasher and putting things away (only one glass broken so far!)
• still has the cutest walk (kind of swings his hips and shoulders like a tough bodyguard)
• at bed-time in his bed, tucks my arm under his body so I can't leave. (heart melting)

 

William this morning in the kitchen playing with the serving spoons

I'm a third culture kid!

and it looks like my kids are also!!!

A definition I liked of a Third Culture Kid (TCK) is "a child who spends a significant time of his/her developmental years outside of the parents culture. The TCK builds relationships to all of the cultures while not having full ownership of any."

If you think you might be too or that your kids are, then please listen to this interview with Ruth Van Reken.

It's great actually to have a name to this "I come from nowhere and everywhere" identity of mine. I always felt that living all over the place made me feel kind of "rootless" because I was always different even if what I knew and what I had seen, learned and experienced was practically always presented in a positive light, for me there has always been a sense of not belonging and loss that I have found hard to manage. When I am here, I feel from there, and when I am there I also feel foreign.

It was kind of comforting for me to hear this person say that because everyone is always talking about the positives, you feel almost ungrateful when you express the losses or the fact that your identity is full of holes bigger than any cheese. She also talks about the unresolved grief which was a total slap in the face it felt so true to me.

When people ask me where I am from, to this day I try to explain in the truest possible manner the entirety of my origins because I cannot say that I am "only" Swiss/ Slave/ South African-English/ a world-citizen/ a little bit of all 9 countries I have liven in. When asked what my mother tongue is, I can only truthfully say my mother's language is English or that I spoke 3 languages at the age of 3; my mother's, my father's and Italian since at that moment, we were living in Italy. It's as if I need to explain my lack of belonging or my links to all the different places that are part of me. Maybe kind of crazy?

... to be continued

In the meantime, here are some related links:

tck world
tckid
International family transitions

N.B. I started writing this post three days ago then got interrupted by my  third culture kids and their international musical requests on youtube!

La rentrée or the moving blues

Today was the first day of school here (la rentrée in French means the start of the new academic year around which also marks the beginning of the French political season) administration and so there was absolutely NO parking spots to be had near the kindergarden.
Plus the actual street the kindergarden is on was absolutely blocked with traffic and an empty tram that could not move ahead due to a very badly parked SUV. Then the fire-brigade showed up and had to move it. We had to park a mile away and actually ended up walking a longer distance than if we had walked from home.
Anyway... what I wanted to write about was that it's the first day of school and there are little kids running around everywhere still slightly tanned, carrying new school bags, books, pencil cases and sprouting large smiles. Little groups of 16 year old boys and girls in shorts and large handbags. Umph. I am not nostalgic of being 16 even if I am nearing 40! It's just that I used to love the first days of school and buying all the new stationary stuff and catching up with friends and kids form school again.

And now -although my kids are not school kids yet- I am wondering whether we will be able to order the last CD of kindergarden pics and reading about parent evenings and kindergarden outings that will take place when we will be gone (to Greece) and all this will be going on here without us. Isnt' that weird? And I don't mean that in a we-are-the centre-of-the-world-how-can-it-all-go-on-without-us? way. Just that we have been to the parents evening every October for the past 3 years and now we won't. We will be in Greece. Probably trying to find a decent coffee and a parking space. And not understanding anything.

Ok, that was my grumpiness for today.

On the happy side, we had a lovely week-end visiting friends in their new house
and enjoying the Montmartre party at Turkenschanzpark (we usually miss this due to our habitual week in Croatia).


William had his first ever train ride and hot-dog (!!) and Emma got a new sun-dress which I love and jumped her heart out.



that's all for today!

Smiling heart and children's laughter in a village

Yesterday morning I finally went to pick up a cake plate that I had left at an acquaintances' house 2 year's ago after an Easter tea party and egg hunt for the kids. (2 years!!! It's great to have the time to do these non-priority things again).

She has also had a second child (4 months old) and is feeling rather frazzled although her second is a calmer one than her first. Anyway, this lady is going back to her full time job next week and will be traveling and has brought-in live-in help from her home town. She told me that she finds it crazy that in Europe us mothers spend so much time alone with our children; caring for them, entertaining them, cooking and preparing, transporting... Leaving us exhausted and drained with little energy to see friends or do things for ourselves - which is in fact exactly what we need to do so badly in such times might I add!
She went on to say that this is why we feel burdened by them and that we would love our children better and more if we were not so alone in caring for them. Indeed, in French we say that you need a village to bring up a child. And in the olden days. when families lived in the villages or cities - sometimes in the same house - everybody would pitch in and care for the little ones who benefited from all this various interaction.

(I definitely know that I am a more fun and relaxed Mum when I have had time for myself for Pilates or coffee with a friend or had enough time and energy to be creative. Not just squeezing stuff in but real time to do more that what just absolutely needs to be done).

For us expats with grand-parents, aunts and uncles seeing kids once or twice a year, there is no village at an arms reach and that can be really hard.
But sometimes you are lucky enough to create a little village - if you stay in one place long enough and find the right people and have the right attitude and energy...- of friends and their family who can help with the kids.

Just the other day Emma spent the afternoon with Nonna - the grandma of her very best friend- who often has her over to play with her grand-daughter. Emma knows of course this is not her own grandma, but it's so great that this woman's heart was big enough to include Emma in it and that Emma found her way in.

Yesterday there was a Genusspfad down at our local market. A kind of food fair where all the shop owners got their tables and chairs out and offered special tasting menu for 1.- 3.- or 5.- Euros. There were cheeses and breads, curries and wines, salads, gratins, various Italian antipasti, organic fruits and juices, desserts... all mouth watering, scrumptious and colourful. (I totally could kick myself for not having taken any pics!!!)

Anyway, to come back to the subject (sorry! I hope you are still with me!) when I had seen this advertized a couple of weeks back I had emailed a pic to some Mummy friends from my phone - don't you just love modern technology! - and suggested an early dinner with the kids.


So yesterday 6 of us Mummies and our kids (who all go to kindergarden together) went down to the Genusspfad and enjoyed each others' company as the kids continued to play in the little park, occasionally popping by to taste an "Erdbeer knödel" or fill up on some "semmel brot" or apple juice or show us a scratched knee. We even had a reserved table (they don't normally do reservations for these types of events) but I had mentioned we would be coming with our kids and I am a regular down there so they made an exception. It might sound silly, but I felt so happy and somehow proud to have thought of this and that it worked out so well - me the expat with all these (mainly) local Mums at a local event and a table with a "Sandra 16h00" scribbled on to bright sunny yellow paper. (Can you just imagine me smiling right noow? 'cause I am, lips, eyes and heart - a BIG smile!)

It was lovely. William was passed from lap to lap, each of us took turns running after the kids or getting the drinks or food, cutting the food for the kids etc. Each of us a Mum, each of us enjoying the banter and food and drink and company and the happy laughter of the kids in the background. The happiness of this moment is going to remain with me a long time.
It is these kind of treasures that take time when you are moving from country to country and that I miss the most when I arrive somewhere new.

Someone once told me that with each destination you get quicker at going through the initial hard stuff and moving on to the happy bits. I hope that's true.

Animals and their babies - how many do you know?

I can't believe the French language (the language we have chosen to speak at home and teach Emma) is so complicated!

Emma is really into animals at the moment, both in real life and into naming them when she spots them in whatever form (pictures or drawings in books, stuffed animals in shop windows, etc.).
Anyhow, we saw a bambi sticker on the wall of a kid's café/shop and I couldn't remember the name of the beast for the life of me. So, I googled it this morning and came up with the below list in French and then tried to recall the names in English. Woah! Not good.
Am I the only one?

1. un chien, une chienne et un chiot ; dog, bitch, puppy
   
2. un chat, une chatte et un chaton ; cat, cat, kitten
3. un dauphin, une dauphine et un dauphineau ; dolphin, dolphin and baby dolphin?
4. un éléphant, une éléphant et un éléphanteau ; elephant, elephant and baby elephant?
5. un lapin, une lapine et un lapereau ; rabbit, female rabbit, baby rabbit?
6. un lion, une lionne et un lionceau ; lion, lion, lion cub
7. un loup, une louve et un louveteau ; I'm guessing wolf, no idea, wolf cub
   
8. un ours, une ourse et un ourson ; bear, bear, bear cub
9. un renard, une renarde et un renardeau ; fox, vixen baby fox
10. une souris, une souris et un souriceau ; seriously? a mouse
11. un tigre, une tigresse et un tigron ;
12. un zèbre, une zèbresse et un zébreau ; I give up!
    
13. un bélier, une brebis et un agneau ;
14. un bouc, une chèvre et un chevreau ;
15. un cerf, une biche et un daim ; ummm bambi?
16. un cheval, une jument et un poulain ; stallion, mare, pony turns out a baby horse is either a foal (m) or a filly (f)
17. un homme, une femme et un enfant ; oh! I know this one! a man, a woman, a child
18. un lièvre, une hase et un levraut ; buck, doe, leveret (I had to look this one up!)
19. un porc, une truie et un porcelet ; boar, sow, piglet

(source of the French ones: Journal de Cooker: Tergiversations psychoquantiques)

Initially I was thinking the English equivalents were pretty easy , "elephant, elephant, baby elephant" right? and for the more complex ones dog, bitch, puppy...
but I started going down the list and decided I needed to look it up and it turns out English is not only more complex than I thought - although who the hell uses this terminology outside of a biology class or a farm? - but also very confusing... For example, did you know that a cow could also be a female elephant and a cub the baby tiger, baby lion or baby bear?
Ahh! this is just another humbling moment when you know you're just not going to know the answer to the questions your kids ask so start getting used to it. Plus, there are more important things to teach in life, right?
Still, I better get cracking before we hit the zoo as soon as it stops snowing!!! (yes, snowing on March 20th people when is spring coming to Vienna?!)

If you are as clueless as I was on the list above, check out the site by Enchanted learning where you can also download animals for coloring and games for your kids (or you) where you can pair up the adult animals with their babies.

Titties

I knew the Germans where into kinky sex - I recall a trip to Munich during high school - but Austrians? and in your neighborhood high street? Seriously?!

Titties but no nipples

too much not needed to be done

Sometimes knowing what you MUST do (and doing it) is easier than (having the leisure to) figure out what you WANT to do.

Sometimes having lots that you MUST DO can be a great alibi for (fulfilling ones') life.
.
.
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Is it clear that I feel I get lost (in the "leisure" of) trying to figure out what I WANT to do?
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.
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Freedom can be a burden! hah!

what really matters

I have grown accustomed to seeing our furniture in very different settings;our flat in Vandoeuvres, the house in Zeytinalan Izmir, our first disaster area flat in Vienna (Zuckerkandlgasse) and now this one in the 18th bezirk of Wien. It's surprising how you somehow manage to make it fit the new layout with a little creativity (e.g. sometimes we have room in the kitchen for a table and sometimes we don't, sometimes our desk is a a desk in the guest room/study and sometimes it's a console table in the entrance or hall where we dump our keys and mail)

However, upon arrival in this new flat, the strangest thing happened when I saw our furniture all set up in the right rooms with our pics up and little knick-knacks laid out; it was like seeing a dead man (so I guess that would be a ghost?). I mean I was really surprised to see it all again. As if it had all died and gone to furniture heaven and could not possibly be in our home again. Weird huh?

I guess it can be explained by:
-not having gone through the process of actually moving out of the flat of the 19th moving into this one (since my honey did all the work while Emma and I were still in Geneva/France)
-the fact that I have sort of settled in our pad in France, making it my new home with pics, decorations, new clothes, bed sheets, cushions etc. as well as new routines, coffees and ice-creams with friends, etc.
-but mainly I think it's due to the fact that I tried so hard to put the Zuckerkandlgasse disaster out of my mind, that I kind of threw the baby out with the bath water as it were.

How weird is that?! It's taking me a little time to consider all these belongings as mine and enjoy them again.

I recently suggested to a friend she do without something (or rather someone) for a trial period before actually deciding whether or not she wanted to do without. Coincidentally, I realized that having lived without practically all my belongings for nearly five months, I manged quite well. In fact, I was just fine.
Admittedly, I bought new furniture , clothes etc. in Geneva, but still, it made me realize how many things I have that I don't actually need, and how they are not the be-all and end-all in terms of making my home. All these things are nice to have, but I if required, I can start over (with a little spare cash and some time) and be happy.
A refreshing, empowering thought.

Likewise, I realized that being in a smaller more compact space had its benefits, especially with a little one. Sometimes we realize how much less is really more. Granted, the two flights of stairs leading up to our pad in France (carrying Emma and groceries), doing all the cleaning (hadn't done it since student days!) and the reduced space was more than compensated by the fact that I could see friends and be in a place that was familiar (easily find my way around town, speak the language etc.). So, how cool is it to realize that I have not grown accustomed to being a spoiled-expat-spouse?! Very.

So... I'm going through stuff and I'm going to give lots of it away and make space for now.
Ha!

Here we go again, AGAIN!

It's February 26th... We've been back since the 10th and although the workmen have kept out of the flat there has been ongoing work in and around the building resulting in sawing, drilling, dust and mud invading whatever peace and quiet is left by a teething babe in the daylight hours and most definitely making sure that the peace and quiet required for the said babe to nap is the rarest commodity.

Have a listen. I taped the below this morning from Emma's bedroom and from our front door on the top floor of the building while the workmen were on the ground floor


I have said, at least a zillion times now, that should things not be resolved in this flat we are moving out. Each time more desperately than the previous, yet hoping against all hope that things would be all fixed and that nothing else would leak or fail, that we would not have to move AGAIN. At least not until we know Vienna better. Not until we have a chance to get our lives organized with a nanny, a cleaning lady, and managed to get out and meet a few people. Not until spring; the moving season when other expats will have be moving to their next destination freeing up family flats in family areas near schools, kindergardens, parks and shops.
This time, coming back here after our break in France, we agreed that there would be no more lenience and that should there be a "next time" it would be the last.

Comforted by this, I was ready to move ahead and give Vienna a fair chance. So last week, I really tried to get my act together and make things better for us here. The sun inspired me so Emma and I checked out a different "highstreet" every other day in between errands, feeds and naps. A visit to a newly opened neighborhood gym club and finding Emma a great sitter, gave me something to look forward to and a sense of achievement however modest my accomplishments were objectively. Finally, a short family visit (in-laws) spread positive vibes in our flat; a pleasant change from the hoards of workmen who were the only other company we had had over.

Despite struggling out of bed this morning at 7am after a short night (Emma's teething kept me on my toes all of yesterday and by the time we got her to stop crying at 4am I was totally exhausted) my outlook was relatively positive; I was expecting the nanny/sitter K. and looked forward to getting out in the sunshine and mild spring-like temperatures, thinking finally we were getting somewhere.

Then it all went south.
I might have jinxed it all in my last post.

In a nutshell:

-out goes the nanny
it turns out her uni schedule for the upcoming term will not allow day-time work for more than an hour in a row, so there goes Emma's new lovely nanny. (She seemed nearly as sad as me and said that although she loves taking care of kids and Emma was sweet, it's important for the parents to be nice and that we really are.)

-the leaking, problematic, ill constructed "luxuswohnung" building strikes again
at exactly Emma's morning nap time, the hammers started up and I frantically ran out into the staircase with my hair wild and any hope of a morning nap of my own evaporating before me, only to find workmen knocking down part of a wall in the flat below us... Wouldn't you know it, a leak. And the culprit is our en-suite bathroom it seems. Workmen due at our place tomorrow AM. Lo-ve-ly.

I don't know what it is about this place but no matter the efforts we make, things just keep going pear shaped.

I think this pretty much sums it up:

Mur·phy's Law (mûr'fēz) Pronunciation Key
n. Any of certain humorous axioms stating that anything that can possibly go wrong, will go wrong.

Any ideas? a great nanny or maybe a nice flat to rent?

Things are looking up.
Yesterday after having decided that I needed to focus all my efforts in saving myself from new expat misery, I drafted a list of things I wanted to get done during the day.

My list:
drop Steph's trousers off at the dry cleaner's
buy a 2008 calendar
find a place that offers Body Balance or alternatively Pilates classes
call a baby sitter or two to arrange for interviews
get some fresh air and release some endorphin by going for a walk

Hardly ambitious when compared to what I would have done in an hour of my past life as a working girl, but today is now and even so I didn't think I would tick off half of it yesterday.

Guess what? I actually
-found a calendar in a shop where the owner was indignant when I asked if she only had this one ("you should be happy I already have one left") but I ignored her and actually found a whole selection of '08 calendars on one of her shelves
-visited a place about five minutes drive from here that has Pilates, Aero-Balance (apparently similar to Body Balance) and various other aerobic classes. What's more I negotiated a corporate rate (30% less) and no enrollment fee
-called a baby-sitter and arranged for an interview as well as placed an ad for a part-time nanny, evening sitter and cleaning-lady on a very useful website for parents in Vienna

Today, the said sitter pitched up. Late after she got lost, but she called. While keeping in mind that she was going to be looking after my most precious Em, (so her having a brain is not optional as it was for the cleaning lady who lasted 3 weeks before we fired her) I was also trying to be reasonable positive (nanny needs brain but does not need to be genius, if she were I would probably have to fire her for incompetency - mine- after 3 weeks).

Reminding myself that I really need someone to buy me ME time. Time to get out on my own and discover this town. Time to get fit again, or at least fitter. Time to meet some people so that I don't have to call another country when I am in need of a decent conversation (excluding hubs, but honestly most evenings neither of us is in shape for any kind of correspondence).
...so I can be a good Mom, remain moderately mentally sane.

Turns out, someone must have been looking out for me today. I really liked the part-time nanny.
And I met a neighbor (we're no longer the only nutters to have moved into this disaster area construction site building). She's English and her name is Janet.

Never say never

Who would have thought that I'd be missing Izmir?

Certainly not me during (at least) our first six months there!!!

But it's true, I miss Izmir.
Maybe 'cause I never got to properly say good-bye (I mean, I was all wrapped up in going back to Geneva to have Emma, so you can't really blame me for not fully realizing I was going to be moving again, and to a place I had never been to be before - my first visit to Vienna as a toddler does not count!)

I miss the sun!!! the mild 14°C winters and the blue skies (today it snowed in Vienna!)
I miss the green beautiful garden all around our house and the incredible colours and light



I miss the fact that there were hardly ever any traffic jams - although the turks are crazy drivers!
I miss sitting on the terraces of nice cafés chatting or gossiping with friends
I miss being part of a group of women like the International Women of Izmir (IWAI)

I miss going to Bostanli market on Wednesdays with the ferry boat and all the yummy veggies and fruit, olives and nuts that I used to buy there!
I miss Kemeralti Bazaar were I could browse around and enjoy a "çai" or a coke in the shade

I miss the spacious huge house we lived in (although I don't miss the nutty cleaning lady Hamide)

I miss delicious Turkish breakfasts and weekends in Istanbul or Alaçati

(More Alaçati pics)

I miss walking Balou around the flower scented grounds
when all I needed to do was slip on a pair of sandals and a light sweater (that would be a dream now with Emma, instead of pulling on her hat and fitting her hands and arms into a warmer coat or sweater before zipping her into her fleece nest)

I know, I know, you're thinking: "the grass is always greener..." right? But actually, no matter how unhappy and lonely I was in the beginning in Izmir, I never got nostalgic about Geneva. I never had moments of imagining Geneva and Vandoeuvres and missing our life there. I can't say that now about Izmir...
I guess maybe I wasn't quite ready to leave. I think maybe I had just began to feel at home there and I imagine that it would have been nice to return there with baby Emma and introduce her to the friends that were there during my pregnancy.

Also, I have to admit that unfortunately a lot of the good things about Izmir were lost on us for a while there in the beginning. It took us a long time to shift mindsets and stop wanting things to be smooth in the way we wanted them to be. It took us a long time to stop fighting the way things were, a long time to appreciate the smiles and the effort and care less if the actual service/end-result was not always top notch. This in turn meant that we could not enjoy Izmir for what it was, and truly enjoy its positive if sometimes quirky sides.
A lingering feeling of untied knots....

Anyway, back to now: it would be good to spend less time wanting something else than what Vienna has to offer and be able to enjoy it for what it is before another semester goes by... even if discovering the city is made more difficult with a babe and the winter climate.
And if ever we return to a developing country again, especially one with 14° winters, I'll be happy with the septic tank after Vienna's waters and winters.

Marriage and tomorrow's yesterdays

If you think preparing and planning your wedding together tests a marriage, just wait 'till you have a baby!

And if that isn't trying enough, try 3 months (three months today!!) of living out of a suitcase. Make that suitcases, since you're constantly changing sizes in between week 34 of pregnancy and week 40+8, not to mention the change of temperature and season -unless you live somewhere near the equator-, and then there the small matter of the clothes and gear of a fast growing baby...
Add to that, staying with your Mum and your Mum-in-law, while buying and setting up a pad in France (which is great but is also quite a bit of work), before flying out to a new city and house hunting with your lovely newborn while living in a serviced apartment (thankfully equipped with a washing machine)...

And of course, hubs is very much in demand and engrossed in his new position at work and, hey, even traveling....

In the meantime you're desperately trying to sooth yourself with positive thinking and the belief that inner stability is what counts (so what if you've called 5 different places "home" in half as many months and driven as many cars).

So what?

* I've learned to be less anxious and get less unhinged by the small stuff
* modern technology is more than helpful, it actually often saves the day; you can read the paper of your city of choice, keep in touch (and sight!) with friends and family practically instantaneously, lose yourself in music and enroll into a local yoga class that is being set up by another newcomer and discussed on a local forum
* having said that, you really can get by with a lot less stuff than you are used to living with...
* which in turn gives you the opportunity to look around you more and (re)discover that which is most important to you
* hopefully, all of this will be another bumpy corner your marriage will bounce off, and, in a few days, you’ll tease each other about your bloody mindedness and short-lived irritability
* remember to cuddle and play as often as possible - it makes you feel so much better

Mostly, all these moves and co-habitations, travels and change in plans, irritations and encounters have convinced me that you really need to live life in the present; communicate (and not only the about the bad, irritating, annoying stuff), express yourself (go yell in the park or sing in the shower), breathe and concentrate on what's going on for you now. Make it as good as you can.

Tomorrow is another day... and, take it from me, a billion things can happen before then, making tomorrow very different from what you thought it would be... You might as well be able to look back and remember the happy yesterdays that you did NOT spend worrying about tomorrow.

As hard as it may be for some of us, this is definitely one lesson worth learning.

September 17th

Today three years ago we got married!

Wow! How time flies...


Last year for our anniversary we were living in Turkey and now we are settling in Vienna... who knows where are future anniversaries will be?

2 days left....but does she know it? also: from Izmir to Vienna via Geneva and a pad in France

Well into week 39 and I have totally had enough of being pregnant thank you very much.
According to the very first due date we were given (27th July) there are 2 days left. We were also given August 4th as EDD which takes us to Saturday next week.
Honestly, the past 4 weeks have seemed longer than the previous 8 months!

It's a bit of a shame really as I hadn't found it at all difficult to be pregnant until then. On the contrary. Now days I'm finding it no fun at all and my looking-forward-to-meeting-you-baby feeling has been superseded by a can't-bloody-wait-to feel lighter/ able-to-breathe/sleep /feel stable on my feet - longing.

A shame. But I guess that also means that I'm not thinking about giving birth as something daunting, rather like something vital and liberating. De-li-ve-ry. I've never liked that wording in English, but I guess it's not far from what I think I will feel.

So, a part from that, I might mention that we are now temporarily in Geneva and have been for just over a month.
Our house in Izmir is no longer ours at all and our belongings -including baby's room- are traveling around Europe somewhere and hopefully heading towards Vienna. Mmmm.
Vienna. Yup, that's where were moving to next. Sometime this autumn.

In the meantime we're expecting baby and doing our best not to feel too "SDF" as the French say (=sans domicile fixe, literally "without fixed abode" according to the Inter Active Terminology for Europe dictionary) - To be honest and hopefully not sound ungrateful, although we are lucky enough to be in a city where we are able to stay with family members, have friends and know our way around, I've had moments where I've found it rather unsettling to be expecting a baby and be in between locations/jobs at this moment in time.

I guess this is where you feel how stable you feel as a person and a couple. Boy, am I glad we didn't do this a couple of years ago; life treats you with what you can handle, thankfully. But back to us doing our best so as not to feel totally nomad. A huge contribution to putting down some kind of roots has been the decision followed by the opportunity of finding and buying a small flat in near by France (about 15 minutes to down town Geneva with a gorgeous view of fields and the lake). Yay!


We're swamped in paper work and catalogs (choosing tiles, etc.) and it probably won't be ours until September, but it's a super exciting project and really nice to know that somewhere in the world we'll have a HQ / base / pad.
Happy me.

A good thing the sales are now on....Checking out plates, cutlery and furniture in various places has definitely helped keep my mind off my bladder's decreasing capacity to guarantee any kind of serious autonomy, as well as kept me away from buying baby clothes galore.

And baby, you're welcome any time now, really... I'm sure you're quite happy in there and all, but there are loads of people waiting to meet you outside my belly. It's time to come out and have a look at the outside world now.

Bureaucracy-schmureaucracy

Who would have thought that having a baby "back home" (Switzerland) would mean you actually have to ask the embassy in your host country (Turkey) to grant your home city (Geneva) permission to issue the baby a passport?
I'm not kidding!

Swiss law says newborn's passports must be issued in stated country of residence - no matter the nationality of the parents or baby's place of birth. Duh.
But we can't travel from the birth country back to the host country without said passport. How twisted is that?

Luckily, the lovely lady from the Istanbul based Swiss embassy will grant passport issuing authorization to Geneva asap after delivery. Pheew!

I am soooo glad she remembers me and my sis-in-law from our visit a year ago!
Administrative bureaucracy is tailored to text book cases... I guess we tend to fit in loop holes more...

We're off to the airport now - pray my tummy looks small enough to board!!!!!

Oh Boy! it's a Girl! Not?

Since the moment I was noticeably pregnant, not once has someone here asked me "Are you expecting a girl?" Quite the opposite in fact, most people greeted me with "You're expecting a boy?"

Having picked up on the fact that (for most) it was clearly a desirable thing to have a boy, (and noticed that announcements of us expecting a girl were either met with apologetic mimics and shrugs as if implying "better luck next time" or reactions of surprise as if their "guessing method" could not fail them) I took these "affirmestions" (a boy right?) to be rather sexist wishful thinking.

Granted, some people "guessed" the gender of baby according to the shape of my belly (to be honest, I'm still not clear on this- what shape is supposed to indicate what?) but no matter the "method" applied, the guessing always seemed to lead people to believe we were expecting a boy.

Yes, in this country one could say that a female child is more likely to become a "cost centre" whereas a male child is more likely to earn money and contribute to the family's welfare... but I personally believe it has more to do with an inherent belief that a boy is simply better. As simple as that. Umph. I won't even dignify this with further anything.

Anyway, the other day in a shop, once again me and my belly were greeted with the smiling "it's a boy?! when is he due?" I replied my usual "hayır, Kız" (no, a girl) and was met by exclamations of surprise bordering on skepticism.

Since this time the people asking me were of female gender and old enough to have (had) children of their own, I asked what was so surprising about there being a girl in my belly. Their English being as good as my Turkish, I didn't quite get the answer... but I did catch the word for "girl" and it was was accompanied by horrible grimaces, distorted faces and hands messing up hair - not nice. Whatever....

A few days later, when asked when "he was due", I took the opportunity of an English speaking Turkish woman's presence to question her about the mystifying grimaces and assumptions I had encountered.

She laughed and said: "in Turkey people believe that a baby girl steals her mother's beauty, whereas a baby boy makes her more beautiful... so you see, it's a compliment, because you look nice."

Typical...

According to baby gender folklore and 38 fun ways to guess your baby's sex I should indeed be expecting a boy....

favorite things & bad timing

One of my favorite things now days in Turkey is the yummy fresh fruit and veg.

I loved smelling the sweet strawberries at the market as early as April - and they taste wonderful.

It's a treat having cherries, melon and watermelon in May and delicious apricots and peaches in early June. Believe me, there's nothing like juicy and sweet fruit when you're pregnant to your eyeballs!

The thing is, often we realize what we like and enjoy when faced with the opportunity or threat of having to leave them behind, give them up, change ways...

Recently it seemed more than likely that we would leave Izmir and Turkey (all the yummy things above, but also the huge house, garden for the dog, shared pool on the grounds, sunny weather and basically the fact of having been here a year which means we know a few nice people and places...) for a place I've never been to but that

• looked like this when hubs went to visit (talk about a change in climate!)
  
• is often thought of as being extremely modern and liberal and brilliant for women and mums (not your typical idea of Turkey)
  
• but that didn't really inspire me after I had read this and this (unfortunately by the same author which doesn't give much perspective... but hey reading her was really dissuasive!)

Clearly it's not all about leaving Turkey, after all we will be leaving some day, and probably sooner rather than later, but right now there's also a strong timing component.

I think it's safe to say that, no matter the destination, moving with a newborn (packing or living out of boxes, temporarily living in a furnished flat while trying to adjust to feeding at all hours and sleepless nights, knowing nothing and no-one in a new city, house-hunting...) is about the most repulsive idea I can come up with at the moment.

Moving is stressful.
Having a baby is huge.
One at a time is enough.

Timing is key. Can we at least wait until bebek is say, 4 months old?


moving Stockholm yummy fruit leaving Turkey destination unknown and bad timing

The most expensive shoes in the world...or Don't mess with Turkish Customs

Who would have thought hey? Simple Birkenstock for my preggie feet going for 29,95 Euros on TobiasMayer.com. They would have cost me less if I had flown to Germany and brought them back to Turkey myself!

Until this incident, I had had no trouble having books from Amazon & Nespresso coffee delivered to my door here in Izmir. At most I had to pay a few Liras for postage.

I had heard stories of people who had ordered vitamins or food supplements from abroad, being asked to explain exactly what the package contained at the post office. No surprise - anything edible is always suspect.

But Birkenstocks? Really.
How are they any different from books? They are lighter & cheaper and they were ordered from Germany as opposed to the UK. And probably my mistake was to have them delivered by DHL - which was free by the way, since my order was for 5 pairs.

What happened? Well, they got stopped in Istanbul. DHL called me and told me they were at customs but that I could clear them.

-Agh, how does one clear customs?
-You must come here.
-Oh. Only I don't live in in Istanbul, but in Izmir....
-You can clear them in Izmir, do you want them sent to Izmir?
-Well, yes, my order was supposed to be delivered to me at my door in Izmir.
-We need you to pay 115ytl for the plane transfer and send us proof of payment and the transfer application form by fax.
-Huh?!?

Anyway, after being assured that all I needed to do was transfer the dosh and send back their application form for the shoes to arrive the next day, I figured that: a) sending them back to Germany was going to cost me at least as much and b) get them to me much later (especially if I had to have them re-sent to Geneva).

I'll spare you the details of:
-10 phone calls to customer services referring me to 5 different phone numbers of which only the last one worked
-as many emails
-no information as to which of the 3 airport terminals I was supposed to go to to claim my stuff
-a mountain of paperwork & "to and fros" from the customs office, the cargo office, the Turkish Airlines office...
-paying more dosh to cover handling fees, tax and photocopies of my passport and resident permit
-being insulted, hung up on and scolded by customs officials ("don't debate with me!") for asking why I had to pay out more money when I had already paid X amount and had been told that was all
-and finally being saved by bureaucratic overdose by a broker who was no doubt afraid I was going to go into labor right there in the customs office if I didn't calm down...

A bloody nightmare.
I can assure you, if ever you are told that your goods have been stopped by Turkish Customs, (which basically seems to have a lot to do with luck, not with the declared value or weight of your parcel) don't hesitate for a second- send them back! Whatever your goods, they are not worth the time, energy, money you will need to recover them.

Better book yourself a plane ticket to go and pick them up yourself and enjoy a weekend trip to somewhere nice as well!