Oh hello Frustration, AKA second stage of culture shock. There you are, you scheming, handsome devil. Welcome to our home. Would you like a glass of wine? No? Is that because there’s a COCKROACH THE SIZE OF A FUN-SIZE SNICKERS BAR ON THE EDGE OF YOUR WINE GLASS?
There were some tears last night. Little people tears had to do with the fact that we are far away from everyone we love, our house feels like a hotel (BECAUSE OUR BELONGINGS ARE STILL AT THE PORT OF OAKLAND), we miss our Chinese school, where’s our bunk bed, etc. I had to look into a very weepy child’s eyes and answer the question, “Why did we move to Australia?” My response was messy and honest and not at all Afterschool-Special-Perfect-Mom. I mumbled something about choosing to move here because we know it will be wonderful, we are a team, you are safe, you’re already making friends look at you already making friends you extraordinary creatures. And that at this moment in our lives, our book is called Moving to Perth and we are in the first chapter called This is Hard. And the next chapter is called This is Not as Hard. And we will get to the next chapter I promise.
And then I cried because I was reminded of how the last time I used a book analogy was when my father died. I was crying and my children were staring at me, scared and confused. I sniffed, “It’s like a book. The first chapter is called Mommy’s Crying. But the second chapter is called Mommy Feels a Little Better.”
As it turns out, when you’re having a sad moment and you are reminded of your father’s death, lo and behold, it does NOT make you feel better. Note to self for next crying moment: do not think of Dad’s death. Baby chicks. Baby chicks.
I told the girls that they can trust me in that it will get better. And the reason they can trust me is that Daddy and I have done this before. We moved to Singapore when Willa was a baby. And Willa asked, “When did it start feeling better?” and I said it was when I had a day where I felt like I had a great time. An honest-to-goodness, genuinely easy, great time. (It also helped when we moved to France, but I felt like that particular piece of information was best left for another day.)
It is now the day after Frustration came a knockin’, and as I write this, Willa and Simone are in the pool with two school friends, jumping and splashing and carrying on. I don’t know whether or not this is an honest-to-goodness, genuinely easy, great time, but it is heartwarming.