I haven’t blogged since Pudding’s birthday, more than a month ago. It isn’t for want of things happening. We’ve been having adventures galore that I need to catch you up on, from meeting penguins in Cape Town, to exploring Scotland. Pudding has been making strides; learning how to brush her teeth by herself, and battling every kind of hand dryer in both the northern and southern hemispheres until she no longer fears them. Oh, and I shook the hands of two more presidents. Such a lot going on all at once. I need to write about that.
Pudding is writing more than me these days. From sending her grandparents her first ever email, to wandering around different countries with a pen and paper in her hand, she is writing all the time.
I find it interesting what she chooses to write. Sometimes she is simply documenting her life around her; she’ll write the names of her school friends, or what she has done that day. At other times, her writing is emphatic. Frustrated that her spoken word isn’t being heeded, she’ll write out what she needs us to do. This morning she was adamant that she shouldn’t be sent to school. I know how she feels- I’d enjoyed our extended break too.
And now we are back, back in our routine. Except not really, because it is hard to get back into a routine when you only have 6 months left in a place and you don’t know where you’ll be living after that.
I mean, I got stuck on the fact that I don’t need to buy the kids any more toothpaste, because we’ll leave here before it runs out. We have more toothpaste than time left here, and nothing in place for after that. No international school persuaded that inclusion is in fact, the way forward. The only way, in my opinion. No team of therapists in place for two kids who need extra support.
Stuck. Blocked. I know how my kid feels. I tend not to write about the frustrations of our globally mobile lifestyle. I try not to bite the hand that feeds our family. But not having an onward assignment at this point is devastating to a family in our situation. It takes time and effort to set up for our kids’ educational and therapeutic needs, wherever we end up next.
Still, we’ve proven we can do this, and we’re ready for another try. Pudding keeps mentioning going to Brazil, so maybe she knows something we don’t. I’m frustrated, angry, and all out of patience with things far beyond my control, but we’ll get through this like every other challenge we’ve faced: squeezing out one more day at a time.
Yes, I feel better for writing that out. That girl of mine really knows how to handle this stuff.