We’re Ba-ack!

We’re home! We made it. A little worse for wear and without our luggage, but home nonetheless. How to write a post that encompasses the last 3 weeks? It’s impossible. So, here are some random things:

  • New Zealand is awesome. Getting there is not.
  • Right now in NZ the summer is waning into autumn, which means that we had perfectly perfect weather. The kind of weather where you can be outside all day in a t-shirt without being too hot or too cold. I can’t tell you the temperatures, because they’re in Celsius and therefore meaningless to me. It was warm enough for the beach, but not quite warm enough to swim, which did not stop the male members of my family from doing so.
  • We spent a lot of our time on the road visiting with old friends and family. New Zealand is breathtakingly beautiful and the kids couldn’t possibly give a smaller crap about the scenery. They can’t be bothered to look up from their Leapsters to take in the view, no matter that the view may be from a death-defying perch on a twisty narrow road overlooking the sea, sheep-dotted hills, and snow-capped mountains.
  • For us, driving in New Zealand is a 2-man job. 1 person actually operates the vehicle, and the other sits shotgun reminding the driver to stay on the left-hand side of the road.
  • On long haul flights children do not sleep. On short flights those same children fall into the soundest sleep possible and need to be roused upon landing. Of course, this sleep pattern is unexpected, no matter how many times it happens, so the children are not outfitted with the necessary pull-up on those short flights. Did S pee a full bladder’s worth on two separate occasions in her plane’s seat? Yes, yes she did.
  • Children will ask “are we there yet?” and “are we in the sky yet?” before the plane has taxied away from the terminal.
  • When asked what his favorite part of New Zealand was, L will say that it was playing on my iPad on the planes.
  • Thanks to my mother-in-law, T and I were able to spend more time alone together than we have in years.
  • Despite being told prior to our sea kayaking outing that we will either encounter a hundred dolphins or none, T and I saw one dolphin. Considering that dolphins are social creatures and generally are not found alone, we figured this dolphin is probably a real jackass.
  • Unlike their sleepy adult counterparts, when children experience jet lag, they want to be awake. They act like crazy amped-up maniacs and cry every 5-10 minutes from 11:30 PM to 3:30 AM. In related news, I experienced no small joy when I got to wake my sleeping cherubs up this morning. It was a lights on, blankets ripped off kind of experience for them.

So there you have it. I’m back online and happy to be here. I’m exhausted and in Xanax detox. I still don’t have my luggage.

 

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Old. How Did This Happen?

I always had the age 35 in mind as the age of a real grownup. A 35-year-old is someone who is in charge. The person caring for her children and her parents. The responsible person with savings, investments, and enough cash on hand to fix the rear wiper motor on her car. A person with important places to be, important things to do, and appropriate clothes for any occasion that might arise. Now I’m about to turn 35. How did this happen? And why do I feel like an impostor?

I remember when my own mother was 35. She was mom to three kids ages 5 (me), 7 and 10. She ran her household like she was born doing it. She managed her kids, bills, nightly dinners, etc like it was nothing. She was a real grownup. So here I am, my mother’s age. (Sort of.) At what point will I feel like a real grownup and not like a kid myself?

I still feel like a person trying to figure it all out. The only way that I know I’m no longer in my early 20′s, and therefore excusably clueless, is that I don’t get carded. I never get carded. Once upon a time I thought that would be a great thing. Turns out, not so much.

My kids are not yet 4 and not yet 2. I’m still new at this whole kids-thing and still dealing with baby problems, naps and diapers. I’m not a seasoned mom carting my kids and their friends around like my mother did so skillfully. (Remember riding in the way back?)

I can’t believe I’m about to turn 35. When I was a kid, if you asked me what “middle-aged” meant I might have said 35. My next big birthday will be my 40th? I can’t even type that with a straight face. I’m nowhere near 40! Right?

Aren’t I supposed to have it all figured out by now? I have 2 1/2 weeks before my birthday. I better get cracking!

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Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off

I’ve written before about L’s funny conversations with Nana. The combination of his toddler-speak and her accent makes for a total communication breakdown that neither of them seems to mind or notice. As I’m often the only person in the room who understands both of them, I am witness to so many strange conversations, and I marvel that they seem to get by without full-time translators.

According to L’s pronunciation, many words begin with the letter B. He’s not excited, he’s becited. When he wants to interrupt, he says “bescuse me.” He bemembers things rather than remembers. He loves to eat bessert and his favorite vegetable is bematoes.

It’s been a little while since Nana left, but I guess she was on L’s mind. Out of nowhere L said this to me in the car, and it made me laugh out loud:

“Some people, like you and me, say bemato. But did you know that other people say tom-aaah-to?” The latter said with exaggerated fake English-ish accent, and perfect enunciated T’s.

Maybe you had to be there…

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