SSSSS (superstition solo surprise stud sam)

A few weeks ago Sam casually mentioned he would be staying after school to try out for a chorus solo (and then later even more casually mentioned he got it.) My favorite part is around :53 when you can hear Maddy whisper her epiphany to me: "my brother's a stud!"*

And then! Last Friday he performed in the 8th grade graduation assembly. He had noticed while playing around on the ukelele that lots of songs fit the same chord progression so he put together a medley of lines from 18 pop songs and enlisted a few others to join in.  (Ack! The memory on my phone filled up and stopped about 1/3 of the way through but you'll get the general idea; other songs included You Found Me, Let It Be, Pictures of You, She Will Be Loved, Man in the Mirror, and Someone Like You.)

Every once in a while your kids completely surprise you. I LOVE that. (Well, as long as it's a good surprise.)  You think you've got them figured out, these growing people you've known since before they even drew air into their lungs. You've watched them over the years in hundreds of situations and by the time they're in their teens you're pretty sure you can predict their responses. When Sam started middle school I never would have predicted that, by the end, he would be willing to sing in front of his school (let alone help come up with the idea, help arrange practices, and freely volunteer!). He even agreed to let me post these clips! It's inspiring to watch his comfort zone grow leaps and bounds...right along with his big old 13-year-old feet.

. . .

*p.s. her consistently generous, sisterly support deserves a post of its own.

Relearned

Things I seem to relearn over and over:

• Be here now
• Take pictures more often
• Washing my hair is really a daily must...I always regret it when I talk myself out of it
• Ditto making my bed, prayer, exercise, and writing something
• Say yes when you can
• Spinach smoothies in the morning make me feel extra sparkly
• It's a good idea to doublecheck that the lid is on the blender
• Enthusiasm trumps coolness. I cannot look at this picture of Maddy (~1998) without giggling out loud at her blatant, over-the-top, dress-up enthusiasm. Not to be outdone, girl knew how to sport a bandana and a row of elastics like nobody's business:

 What have you relearned lately?

A flash in the pan: My little careerlet

One of the most common questions about the Australia plan—especially if you are my parents, my husband, or a friend feeling protective of me—has been: But what about your job?!  Let’s see…how can I explain my complex feelings about it? How about the ever-versatile Facebook category, "it's complicated?"

Last Friday was my last day of work.  You know it’s been a short career when the post for my first day of work (see below) is on the same page as the last day! I told Jumpstart early on about our Australia opportunity and they have been nothing but wonderful and flexible about it. We developed a plan to phase out my work so I can (a) be the sole parent here for a while and (b) focus on the huge tasks of packing up, selling the house, and moving. In May I switched to working part time, much of it from home, and then wrapped everything up last week with a farewell lunch with my team. 

As I said, my feelings about this ending are complicated, multi-layered. I’m definitely disappointed to leave; their wonderfulness through the transition only heightened my wistfulness about giving up working at such a supportive place. I’ve loved my time there and had truly expected it to be my professional home for a long time…but telecommuting from Australia on a 14-hour time change was a bit much too much to ask! I’m exceedingly glad for the chance I had to do this job, even for just a fraction of a year. It was a blessing in our lives for many anticipated and unexpected reasons. 

Like many things, there are tradeoffs. I will give up a nice paycheck, some external responsibilities, meaningful collaboration and collegial relationships. But also, I’ll gladly leave behind 6 a.m. commutes, being perpetually tired, eliminating a lot of extras, and squishing all of the house-and-family related things after 3 every day. I gain more time and a slower pace, different projects, chances to read and write, an uncomplicated summer, and the chance to live abroad with my family—something that has been on our dream list ever since we got married! 

At the core, I feel pretty zen about this transition. I’ve never wrapped up my identity much in a paycheck or a title, as fun as those things are—maybe that’s an artifact of being an at-home mom through most of my young-to-mid adulthood.  I just want to do something interesting, meaningful, and ideally of help to others. Does being a Mom fall under that list? Yes, definitely. Maybe there will eventually be other options under that category, too (and I will have a work visa in Australia so it’s not outside the realm of possibility). As Sam wisely noted, “Well, there are children who need help in Australia, too, right?” 

I remember reading an interview with the author Anne Tyler. She explained that when she finished a novel, she imagined bundling up her characters, putting them on the train to New York, and waving goodbye to dear friends.  That’s how I feel about Working Annie. I like to think that I’ve left her in an office somewhere, wearing dress pants and heels and gold hoop earrings, sitting in meetings and speaking up. She found her voice. She was a good egg, tried hard, fell short lots of times, worried more than she needed to. She called Sam every morning at 6:45 and left daily love notes to the family on the kitchen table. I have a tender, grateful, compassionate spot in my heart for her. I don’t regret any of it.

But if you know of anyone who needs an Australia-based developmental psychologist/child developmentalist...you know who to call. Or maybe I'll go ahead and write that novel or learn how to paint.

See? Complicated.

Zipped

The Friday before G left, we came to the shocking realization that we had a completely free Saturday the next day. We started throwing around ideas for doing something momentous for his last New England wahoo weekend. After about 14 total years of living in the area, it seemed like there should be something to mark the end of the era. At some point G suggested "What about doing a zip line course?" 

A quick google search and an online reservation later, we were booked for the next day before we could really stop and think about the implications of dangling from a wire high off of the ground. (Although we did have a 2+ hour drive to mull it over the next morning!)

We arrived in Lincoln, NH, got fitted for harnesses and instructed on hanging on for dear life, and headed up the mountain in an old WWII all terrain vehicle. The forested zipline course was made up of about 7 long swoops between high platforms at the tops of the trees. That first step is a nail biter but it was glorious to soar out over the breathtaking scenery--glorious and a wee bit terrifying. I was especially proud of M (usually the most timid amongst us) for jumping in with gusto. By the end the guide had most of us convinced to jump off backwards in the last, freefall zipline.

All except G, who dove off head first. 

How's that for an apt metaphor for life?  

I am about to break all of my personal rules about posting pictures of myself. This is an unflattering, hair-plastered, awkwardly posed photo of me (and, let's face it, the harness does me no favors in the fashion department) but we were so utterly thrilled and gleeful at the end that I love this, sweaty hair and all.

 

Throughout the course I kept repeating: We are intrepid; we carry on. (Name that movie.)

I think intrepid will be our new word around here this summer. I like how it feels. 

Round trip to Oz

Heigh-ho!

We decided to take a rather last minute, quick house-hunting, school-searching jaunt to Australia. When I say quick, I mean lickety: I was there for all of 3 1/2 days. (And I think it's going to take me at least twice that long to recover! I've been back four days and I'm still staring at my ceiling for a good portion of the night and dragging all day. But it was worth it.)

Sadly, I left G there to start his new job and came home without him. Sigh. We saw houses and made decisions and bought supplies for him for the coming months. As I left I had the odd feeling that I was dropping off my husband at college: the errands, the setting up, and the farewell all had that same melancholy tinge from last fall with Lauren. We will miss him dearly in the meantime but he is occupying himself with traveling around to the different offices he will oversee and getting to know his new role. August, come quickly!

On a brighter note, we loved Canberra, Australia, all of it. We found a great home in a lovely neighborhood called Yarralumla (with the bonus of being deliciously fun to say), across the street from a park and a stone's throw from the lake. It's tremendously comforting to be able to picture where we'll be. G will be able to ride his bike to work and we're less than 10 minutes from church, schools, and just about everything else. That right there is a game changer, folks!

I'm breathing a sigh of relief now that Maddy and Sam have each been offered a place at the schools we were hoping for, the ones that came up most often highly recommended from helpful friends-of-friends and G's work colleagues. Maddy will attend the Canberra Girls Grammar School and Sam will attend Canberra Boys Grammar School. Walking around them both, I felt like I was entering an Australian version of Hogwarts. When we were there, the boys were preparing for a Music Festival that is a competition between the different houses (3 points Griffindor!). It will be so interesting to enter the world of uniforms and houses and cricket and chapel and tutorials.  I know the transition won't necessarily be easy in those first few months but I'm grateful that my kids are up for giving it a go.

Canberra Boys Grammar School

Canberra Girls Grammar School

Now that we've crossed house and schools off of our list, I feel much more at ease with the looming changes. As long as we have a place to feel at home and my kids are (hopefully, forseeably) happy, everything else is just details and will work out in the end. That's true, right? Humor me. Or, I should say, humour me.

p.s. I'm thankful for my mom's willingness to fly out to care for M & S at the drop of a hat (even though she had just visited us here that week before!). My kids loved it and it made the whole thing possible. Thanks, Mom! xo