What Goes Up, Must Come Down

....and in this case, it is the Christmas tree. You know the routine; whereas everyone is excited about putting up the tree and decorating the house no one is as enthused about disassembling and packing everything up once January hits. I'll be honest, the task doesn't excite me much either but much like Christmas itself, it is a tradition that must be abided by. (Unless you are "those" people who leave their outside lights strung across the eaves of their house year around but that is another story.......).

Last year, on the cusp of packing up the entire house and moving, the tree came down the minute the presents had been unwrapped. This year, however, we're just getting around to disassembling our Christmas tree this week. I blame it on a combination of traveling after the holiday, guests from out of town and the fact that because it is an artificial tree that doesn't shed needles, a general lack of urgency. Besides, I love the way it looks and as long as it is up I can justify playing Christmas music. But the time has come.

Yesterday marked the return to our routine. After two plus weeks of having both boys home all day long, they have respectively returned to work and school leaving me alone in the quiet solitude of the house. So slowly, while listening to the afore mentioned holiday music, I'm taking each ornament off of the tree and carefully putting it away for the annual eleven month hibernation. As I wrap each one I try to remember where we bought it or who gifted it to us. From the hand painted glass balls we purchased in Prague and the ornament commemorating our first Christmas together to the tattered but sweet angel my own mother gave me years ago and Sidney's own first ornament, each one carries with it a memory. And it is these memories, and the knowledge that we will only continue to make new ones with each passing year, that makes this disassembling process a little easier.

By the end of the week there will be a void in the living room where the tree once stood. The mantles will (temporarily) be blissfully empty of the clutter that seems to grow on its own. And another holiday season will be behind us. But not to worry, because there are just 353 days until Christmas 2015!

Back To Reality

Vacation is over but it was wonderful while it lasted. In fact, our American vacation feels like a lifetime ago.  It was just over a month ago that we set off for a fun filled four weeks of reuniting with old friends, visiting our old haunts and for the first time in many years, truly relaxing while on vacation. It was a month filled with dreams of our future and the reality despite being away for so long, very little has changed in our home country. I feared that my growing cynicism about where the country is headed would get the best of me but it didn't. I avoided conversations about politics, didn't watch or listen to any news and for a brief respite, generally ignored the outside world. Sidney may have said it first but I also relished in the fact that just about everyone spoke English. I didn't realize just how much easier life is when I fully understand the language being spoken around me.

But vacation was also a time filled with delight for me as I watched Sidney gain memories and experiences that he can only have in America. Sending him to a day camp for two weeks was one of the best decisions we ever made. In just a short time he blossomed as I have never seen him do before. First, his English is better than ever and as I watch his sun kissed body run around in our backyard I realize that he is no longer a little boy. As evidenced by his desire to show off his things and talk to strangers (especially cute waitresses), his shyness is all but gone. I swear he is taller, bigger (maybe it is all that ice cream he ate) and stronger than he was when we first arrived back in the States. He has gained a level of maturity and confidence that makes this mother proud (and a bit scared). I'd say this is the best souvenir we could have brought back to Belgium with us.

But reality is upon us. Reality means that in one week the school year starts again and along with it come a whole semester of extra curricular activities for Sidney. I'll be back to playing chauffeur each morning and afternoon and try to find my niche in between. Reality means I'm once again immersed in a French speaking environment where nothing is easy and I must always be on my A-game if I am to understand what is happening around me. Reality is being back in our quirky house with its intermittent hot water, sporadic power surges and ongoing dealings with a surly Belgian plumber and assorted repairmen. Reality means juggling a plethora of transformers and adapters before plugging my electronics into the wall and crossing my fingers while hoping I can find a parking space near our house. But reality means we are once again together as a family. Reality is back to driving my beloved Volvo through quaint streets instead of our behemoth, American sized rental vehicle on multi-laned interstates. Reality is also the wonderful opportunities that come with living in a foreign country. There are still so many places to explore, local festivals to attend and road trips to be embarked upon. The reality is that life and our reality is pretty darn good. And for that I am thankful.

Getting Our Groove On

They say it takes time to settle into a new routine and getting there isn't always easy. In fact, sometimes it is just plain hard. But, I dare say, (knock on wood) that I do believe we have found our new Belgian routine. After a minor hiccup last week where Sidney's school was closed (and if there is one thing my little boy loves is his routine) we are now back in the saddle and getting our groove on. And that feels good.

So what does our routine look like? Much like that of any busy family regardless of what country or continent they are living on. Work, school, and running a household now fill every waking moment of our lives. In many respects it is the type of routine I had always envisioned myself in, albeit just not playing the role that is designated as mine. Oh well, if there is one thing I've learned it is that I must roll with the punches. Mornings are a flurry of well honed and perfectly timed (most days) activities. Showers, getting dressed, and coffee are all orchestrated like a well honed dance. Whereas I once was donning suits and heels and perfecting my makeup, yoga pants and (gulp) fleece, the ubiquitous uniform of car pooling moms everywhere, have become my go to morning wear. While not fashionable, this type of outfit does considerably streamline my morning routine. Once the caffeine is flowing through my system it is time to wake Sidney which ironically enough, on school days is a relatively painless process. Next comes breakfast then herding everyone out the door making sure we have snacks, bags, and the other sundry necessities to get through the day. More often than not, our complete morning routine involves swinging back around the block to retrieve a forgotten item.

Fortunately we are a short, ten minute or so commute away from both Glenn's office and Sidney's school. After dropping Glenn off I join the other yoga/fleece clad masses in maneuvering the one way street that is the school zone. This is never easy and due to limited parking, wandering pets, children, and too many vehicles, takes longer than our actual commute. But once Sidney is safely ensconced in his classroom, the day is all mine---at least for the next six hours until I get to come back and do the school zone dance all over again.

So what do I do with myself and all of my "free time"? To be honest, I'm not really sure. But some how the time bookended between 0845 and 1515 flies by giving my day its own sort of structure. (Except for Wednesdays when school ends at the early hour of 1200 thus creating a different, "short day" routine). Because once the after school hour hits full fledge parenting mode sets in again. Afternoon snacks, playing games, and trying to channel the endless energy that only a four year old can have is now the focus of my afternoons. Throw in making dinner, cleaning up, then bedtime (which fortunately falls into Glenn's usual domain), and our day ends with all of us falling into bed exhausted. And with that our day is complete.....until we get to do it all over again. They say time flies when you are having fun--or at least when you are busy. Yes we are busy but more importantly for a family that loves a schedule, we now seem to have found ours.