Monthly Archives: April 2015

Post-momdom life lessons.

When our kids are babies and toddlers we lament about how we have no time to do much else than change diapers, pick up thrown food, cook said food, massage teething gums, fold laundry ad nauseum, you get the drift.

The thing is, some things don’t go away with the years. Some things are permanently altered. Some abilities are lost forever, while other (more weird ones) are gained. And I mean gained in the sense of acquired, not put on. THAT, is another story altogether.

So. Back to the things I’ve had to reconcile myself with over the last, roughly, ten years:

  • Books, or indeed any text, takes twice the amount of time to read. No more just pick it up and read it. There are STEPS. a) Find the time to open it. b) Read every sentence twice to be able to grasp the meaning. Deeper thoughts require more re-reading. c) Build in extra time for a tearjerker if you’ve been stupid enough to pick one up — especially if it features children or perfect marriage scenarios. You will need a break to ponder the reality of the inherent unfairness of life and/or the myriad injustices of your own flawed marital situation.
  • The Muffin Top: The mirror doesn’t lie. Not even a little bit to make you feel better (like your husband does sometimes, lucky you). If you’ve birthed children your body has changed in ways you didn’t sign up for when your could balance a plate on your slippery slope flat belly and it didn’t even strike you to be thankful for it. Your post-child body is a veritable map of hills (nay, mountains!) and valleys and things pointing south. Unfortunately, the only thing pointing north is your eyebrows upon hearing your child dropping F-bombs at will. Whether you’ve had a natural birth or a C-section, that “hangover” ain’t going nowhere, baby.

  • It’s quite hard to go from this

To this

I WANT to, don’t doubt it, but CAN I? I’ve studied for it, worked for it pre-baby, am probably even qualified for it, but after years and years of staying at home and answering to no one, it’s a daunting thought to think about going to work again. People will encourage you, you’re ready for it yourself, you know you can do it once you’re in it, but to actually go out looking for work with a giant wormhole in your Resume is nerve wracking! Who will hire me? What does one wear to an interview?? WHAT WILL I SAY??!

I reckon like everything, there’s no way to do it without getting out and doing it. If half the world can do it I can too. At least I’m fortunate enough to be granted new beginnings with each new move.



I haven’t written here in a while. Many reasons: the less you write the less you want to write. We traveled to India over spring break — our first trip in over 3 years — and along with the actual trip of 3 weeks and its ensuing issues like jet lag, the whole month of March whizzed by.

And there is THE MOVE.

Our transfer confirmation came the day before we were leaving for India, leaving my head in a tailspin. After months of anticipation and finally resignation to the prospect of Houston, London came as a complete and utter shock. I hadn’t considered it as a serious possibility at all. And here it was. #Living in Europe! #Expat Life is Official! #London Calling!


We’ve never lived in Europe. How was I going to navigate the culture shock? What kind of school would the kids go to? What IS our family’s education philosophy anyway? How much of our physical household will be able to take with us? How much smaller/tighter will the houses there be?

And, alas. ALAS! What of the wonderful friends I’ve made here? The happy little expat circle that understands the challenges we all face by moving so often. The kids my kids have grown with in the past 4 years. The new ones that have joined their families and I’ve helped cradle as newborns? The numerous coffees over which we moms have lamented school closures or our absence from the workforce or life away from our families. The chatty walks after the work/school rush to energize ourselves and evade the loneliness that sometimes washes over all of us with this nomadic lifestyle.

I’ve been so lucky to get to know these girls. But I wish we could all stay as close as we have been these last few years. From experience I know it doesn’t stay this way; the first few months you talk or text constantly but then life gets in the way. You make new friends and without the commonality of everyday life, contact peters out. I’m teary just thinking of that eventuality.

Fairfax, I’m going to miss you. You gave me friendship and happiness, a full calendar with D.C. right on the doorstep where there’s always something interesting going on, a sense of belonging with our closest friends who became family, robust schools to mould my kids into (mostly) pleasant children, great weather, beautiful surroundings both modern and historic.

London, watch out. You have big shoes to fill.