Missing

I thought I would post more about the return to home, but it is so surreal and always changing and re-shifting that it is hard to keep up with the readjusted life. Basically I am making excuses for being a liver instead of a writer these past few months.

Things I remember, but didn't write down(which is always falsified information, because if anyone knows a writer, the reason we write is because we have terrible memories)about what it was like readjusting and the things I love about being home - here it goes:

I love that the grocery cashier helps me bag my groceries and that there are a kabillion yellow, plastic bags at the end of the line for my use if I choose not to be "green." (not that Istanbul didn't have bags, but they were always tossed at you at the end of the line and the expectation was self-bagging and fast - two things that do not translate well with children)

I love the turney-grocery bag thingees at Walmart.

Attending Disney on Ice.

I loved seeing Mexicans working on the landscaping at Chili's. I forgot about even having Mexicans living nearby.

I love hearing languages that I can't even recognize being spoken everywhere I go.

Getting a bagel with cream cheese and hot coccoa at 7-11 in the morning. I try to hold back and only get it once a week.

Getting a book I want in 3 days for 5 dollars.

Making homemade pizza with 3 dollar mozzarella instead of 8 YTL kasarli peynir.

Sitting at a "bar" nearby with friends and one orders a pita with chicken, the other orders salmon, another calamari, and myself a creme brulee. And EVERYTHING was delicious.

Signing my son up for 3 different athletic-based activities instead of one, weekly ballet class.

Driving to church in 15 minutes. Staying for 3 hours. Driving home in 15 minutes.

Being able to go to a pediatrician within walking distance any day of the week.

Realizing that so much of my life revolves around what I eat and what my kids need.

This is not a full list, but because of the delay it will never all come.

Ship It

Calvin played with the movers as they finished boxing/bubble wrapping our stuff. They played with his too. These sweaty, tired men who carried 22 boxes down a flight of stairs and then back up a flight of stairs, tickled Calvin with their markers and put tape on his arm and even gave him some bubble wrap to play with. I am not sure I can expect that kind of treatment from some American movers on the other end. They really really love children.

All we have left is what will be in our suitcases. Almost there.

Tradition

Our current boss started a new going away tradition this year and had colleagues write poems about each other as a sending off. We read them aloud and laughed at them before each of us opened our gifts. Most of them were humorous and definitely demonstrated a prolific use of rhyme.

But what do you say when someone who has known you for less than a year writes something like this about you?

A Juggling Act

As a mother she is always equipped
with barely-bald baby Harrison
hanging contently in her pouch
And crazy Calvin charming the masses
by impersonating a friendly doggy
while wearing his imaginary headphones
The matriarch of her pack
leading her boys
to their next adventure

As a friend she is considerate
constantly searching for the
excellence embedded in all of us
Giggling in appreciation at our
idiosyncracies
and embracing our individuality
A gatherer of strangers
Befriending all
who pass through her threshold

As a teacher she is on point
Breaking through language barriers
to inspire creativity and innovation
In the tongue-tied Turkish students
who grasp for the nuggets of knowledge
that she openly extends towards their reach
A natural-born teacher
Connecting content and culture
To equally access the students in her class

As a colleague she will be missed
Her chair will remain empty
Irreplaceable
Holding her place
and wishing her well in her future home.

I am thinking I should keep this person around in case I need a pep talk. This poem will keep my self-esteem running for at least 10 more months.

Served

The United States of America has decided to celebrate my return home by granting me the lovely gift of Petit Jury Duty on July 7th. Thank you America, thank you.

Anyone want to meet me for lunch? I am thinking Makeda? Around noon?