tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14604824169032806292024-03-12T22:11:37.361-04:00The View From HereThis has served as a personal diary and means to share our day to day experiences while foreigners living in Shanghai China. As the View has certainly changed for us, you can now follow us as we try to navigate (or fumble) our way through life as repatriated foreigners here in the United States... raising twins.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-50063475967611471952013-09-11T21:57:00.002-04:002013-09-11T22:06:51.143-04:00Crumbled Tower<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was the morning of September 11th. I sat at the table clutching a cup of coffee- praying that the sweet stimulant swirling beneath me would lift the haze of sleep and sadness I had been feeling. As the television buzzed indiscriminately in the background, something on the screen caught my attention. Haze shifted to focus as I turned up the volume and listened. Peter Jennings was reporting that a plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center buildings. I remember his voice as he tried to grasp what was unfolding before the eyes of our nation; and the trembling in it as we watched the second plane hit in real time. I watched in horror with millions of other Americans as the first tower collapsed, as people jumped to their deaths, as the wounded emerged, and as the scared ran for their lives through plumes of smoke and ash. </div>
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Prior to these attacks, September 11th was a day like any other for many people. For me, it was not. My twin tower had collapsed a mere 10 days earlier when my brother Garrett was killed in a four wheeling accident.</div>
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The grief that our nation was experiencing; the loss of life and sense of security that we were collectively mourning, had already paid my family an unwanted visit. I was acutely aware of how short life could be, how awful and consuming grief really was, and how utterly cruel life could be in the wake of death.</div>
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Every September 11th I join millions of other Americans in remembering. I am reminded of the fallen men and women and their loved ones, the heroism of everyday people, the American spirit; and my brother Garrett- who would have been one of the first people to get into his car and drive down to help.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-34636554619260934332013-01-28T21:53:00.000-05:002013-01-29T17:55:30.092-05:00Random Journal Snippet: One Year Ago (1/6/2012)I walked with speed and determination as I pushed the cart of groceries in front of me. I was not in the mood to check myself out on this particular trip to the store; and so began my search for a lane staffed by another human being. If it meant I would have to wait 10 minutes longer- I was okay with that.<br />
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As I scanned aisle after aisle, I realized that I wasn't the only one avoiding the self checkout lanes. What might have been 10 looked more like 20-30 extra minutes, and I was not in a place to give that time up to such frivolity. After a few observations, I was convinced that the seeming ineptness of every single cashier was actually part of a larger plot to "encourage" shoppers to choose the do-it-yourself lanes. I retreated to the lonely land of self checkout in disgust.<br />
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As I stood in line for what seemed an unreasonable amount of time, my eyes searched for something to entertain me. They landed on the gossip rags that surrounded me; and before I realized it- I was catching up on the latest Hollywood gossip. It occurred to me as I looked over the various headlines that I didn't recognize most of the people in them. It seemed the US had grown more obsessed with youth and some freaky family named the Kardashians while I was gone. Who the hell were the Kardashians anyway? Furthermore- why on earth did we seem to care more about their every move than what was going on in the rest of the world? When I could no longer take in the images or headlines pasted all over the magazine racks next to me, I widened my view and stared off at the signs and lights around me. It all felt so cold and foreign to me.<br />
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When I first arrived in Shanghai, I was overwhelmed with feelings of isolation at the strangest times. It was rarely in the quiet of my home that I encountered this sense of foreignness; but in the midst of the masses, grocery shopping, or surrounded by the hum of life and the glow of neon lights flashing all around. I remember longing for the warmth and familiarity of my home country at those times. And now I found myself standing in the midst of a similar coolness as I waited in line at the grocery store. A similar feeling of home sickness washed over me, and I found an almost cruel irony in the fact that the places I once deemed my "retreat- from- China" hideouts-were now the places I would go to feel like I was back "home" in Shanghai.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-74880289907198139732013-01-08T20:52:00.000-05:002013-01-08T20:52:07.160-05:00The Space Between (random journal snippets) April 2012My new normal is full of a host of thoughts, ideas, and challenges. Some days I revel in the beauty of clean air, green grass and the ability to drive myself and my children to the zoo.Other days I sit in the midst of a public space and contemplate the strangeness I feel. It's on these days that I feel like a foreigner in a strange land. It is in these moments that I feel an acute sense of disconnection from the world immediately around me, and I become uncomfortably aware of the fact that I am still trying to find my footing in this new space; still trying to find my rhythm and identity.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-79388334564243153792012-11-25T16:26:00.000-05:002012-11-26T20:59:43.551-05:00Blessings, Dissatisfaction and the Birth of Change"If there is dissatisfaction with the status quo, good. If there is ferment, so much the better. If there is restlessness, I am pleased. Then let there be ideas, and hard thought, and hard work. If man feels small, let man make himself bigger." Hubert H. Humphrey<br />
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Since our repatriation, the second round of big American holidays has begun. If I am honest- I have to admit that we are still desperately trying to settle into our home. It's different at this point because we are finally approaching the end. The finish line is within reach and it makes it all the more difficult to put our reckless pursuit of completion into check. <br />
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As I write- the front door of our house sits in the basement drying from its second coat of paint. Progress surrounds us. My once bright yellow kitchen with holes for a back splash is now a lovely shade of gray with tile for a back splash. The basement bathroom is the last of the major renovations to be completed and I am thrilled to say the tile man arrives tomorrow morning to begin the final phase of tile. Just a few more things to go and we will be done!<br />
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Phil and I have been relegated to domestic updates for the last year and a half and we are ready for some change. As projects come to a close, I find myself with a little extra time and mental space in my days. I've had time to think about what I want, who I am, and where I would like to go. I've been caught in a fog of repatriation, early parenting, and home renovations for a long time now; and I have allowed the dissatisfaction that I have felt in all of these areas to cloud my thinking and hold me down for far too long.<br />
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I haven't arrived, but I am finding ways to get comfortable in a life I haven't found comfort in for a long time. As I celebrated Thanksgiving and took time to reflect on the many blessings in my own life- I realized that I have a lot to be thankful for- including this phase of restlessness and dissatisfaction.<br />
<em></em>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-5244684606167043832012-09-29T16:59:00.002-04:002012-09-29T17:00:06.656-04:00Ghosts of Memory PastAs I sit on the ferry awaiting departure to Mackinac Island, the smell of fuel combines with the gurgling of the motor and I am instantly transported back to Shanghai. Somewhere in my subconscious I anticipate the groaning of motorcycles, the stench of cigarettes, and the stares of bewildered locals to surround me. <br />
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But alas, they do not and I am present once again in the smoke and noise free interior of my Mackinac Island bound ferry. The hoards of motorcyclists and choking cigarette smoke that once accompanied me on my daring ferry commutes across the Huang Pu river hang in this tension of scent, sound and memory; and I am left to wonder if this will ever change. Will I ever be free of these intruders that seem to weave themselves through most of my thoughts and experiences?<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-46995691548468287322012-09-16T23:32:00.003-04:002012-09-16T23:32:50.185-04:00Smugness, Self Sufficiency and the Western WayI am not a good sick person. I hate sore throats, coughs, fatigue that refuses to budge, and anything remotely related to illness. I like to be in control; I have far too many things on my list of to-dos; and I have 2 small children who need me to be engaged, energetic and present more often than not.<br />
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This past week, my body decided to play host to a rather unpleasant guest. No amount of vitamins and homeopathy could keep this bad boy at bay, so I spent a great deal of time on the couch while my children (gasp) watched more television than I could keep track of (gasp). I bleached all bleachable surfaces, continually washed our hands, and even wore a face mask when I was required to come within a foot of them. Was I over the top? Yes. Would I do it again to avoid the possible outbreak of such a nasty invader? Absolutely!<br />
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I found myself a bit homesick for Shanghai this week. It could have been the recent discussion about a potential job offer in Shanghai, but I knew it was more than that. Phil was out of town on a business trip, I was all alone with the kids; and the weight of the housework and childcare in light of my own illness was more than I could really process. <br />
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It made me miss those sick days when I knew Ayi would be coming through the door at 8am to clean, care for the kids if I needed her to, and maybe even cook. Poor me, right? I get it. It's very un-American to admit as a woman that I liked having another person help me care for my children and keep my home in order- but I admit it. There is something very lonely in the way we Westerners care for our homes and families; particularly Western women. We love our friends and families. We take great pride in our homes. We have can-do attitudes. These are all good traits. It's how this translates for many of us that can cause a lot of worn out women and families. Oftentimes, this can-do attitude mixes with pride and a few other elements to create overworked, overtired, and overstressed women who walk around feeling the weight of the world on their shoulders. <br />
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While Ayi was a hired member of our family, she was not a sign of our wealth or status like a nanny might be here in the US. She was simply an extension of our family as in so many other families in China. Having an Ayi is part of a larger idea that it does indeed take a village to do anything. People would often marvel in horror (if that can be possible) at the fact that I would have two little babies out on my own. We would often get to talking and joking; and the Chinese women would usually tell me- "you Westerners have 1 adult to 10 children while we Chinese have 10 adults to 1 child here." <br /><br />Back then I felt a bit smug and self sufficient; now- I do not.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-83258286534518316812012-06-01T21:15:00.001-04:002012-07-01T20:12:04.488-04:00unfinished and complete<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's been a ridiculously long time since I last posted. I have been pecking away at this anniversary piece to no avail. It doesn't flow, I can't seem to find a fitting conclusion, and the list goes on. In the interest of marking the occasion and moving on, I will post what I have completed. I wrote this approximately one week post anniversary and have been struggling with it ever since...</div>
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"It's been one year since we moved back to the United States. The 13th of May came and went without notice. Days come and go without notice more often lately than I would prefer, but such is the life of a mother with twin male 2 year olds. The inclusion of their gender is with great purpose here as I am convinced that I am dealing with behaviors unique (though not exclusive I'm sure) to males. Take for instance- the incessant need to stick all things round and small up ones nose; or the unwritten rule that all things that can- will be launched into the air; and as of this morning- we've added that all things scalable shall be scaled.</div>
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So back to this whole year-anniversary-of-repatriation-thing (get a parent going and all coherent thought is lost eh?).</div>
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I still miss China. It is less frequent and pining, but I miss it all the same. I miss our friends, our opportunities, the language, the food, the daily and often tiresome challenges of living there, and the love-hate that so many Westerners experience once they've been properly seduced.</div>
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I mark this year anniversary feeling a bit underwhelmed. Repatriation certainly has its ups and downs; but the process of settling back in with 2 toddlers, a home under renovation, and all of the additional challenges of life here on earth have made this a truly challenging year; and one I look very forward to putting behind me."</div>
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(That's it. That's all I could come up with. The writer in me is not thrilled with the abrupt end. The critic in me can't stand the negative tone. The apologist in me would like to say "sorry for talking about how much I miss China, the food and our friends... again". The perfectionist in me really hates to admit this has been such an ass dragging struggle. And on and on the merry go round goes. With so many elements fighting me on the reality of my thoughts and feelings, it's no wonder this has taken me so long to post.)</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-59427611459088640152012-03-15T14:48:00.000-04:002012-03-15T14:48:10.038-04:00Moving On<div style="text-align: left;">
On May 13th 2011 I re- entered the United States as a resident. We were worn and ragged from the initial move, the subsequent 5 days in temporary living, 8 hours in general travel, and 14 hours in air travel. As we entered the airport, our bodies buzzed from a combination of jet lag and lack of sleep. Sheer determination propelled us as we accompanied 2 jet lagged infants and 9 massive suitcases out of the airport. Despite all that weighed against us, I was full of anticipation for all that lay before us. Clean air, outdoor activities, safe food, and the ability to drink from the tap were just a few components in my American fantasy. </div>
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Shortly after returning to the US my fantasy began to crumble; and the reality of the life I left and the challenges of building a new one pushed in on every aspect of my life...</div>
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It's March 15th of the following year and I can say that I finally feel "normal" again. It's not the old comfortable normal of my life before I left, but a new normal for the life I live here now.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-75302278784513424512012-01-02T13:36:00.000-05:002012-01-02T13:36:19.337-05:00A New Year<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As I've grown older and more cynical- January
1st has become a day like any other. So it marks the first day of a new year-
who cares? It's just another holiday where we indulge in food, drink and over
commercialization, right? To top things off, we set a bunch of lofty goals
about our lives and waistlines, only to forget about them by the end of
January. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some
of us jump into the New Year and all of its shiny newness with a sense of hope,
while us pragmatists scoff at the entire idea and just drag our sorry butts
from one year into the next.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'd
like this year to be different. There are so many things I would like to
accomplish; so many ideas I would like to see into fruition. This year I
see a need for some serious change to take place, and while I don't believe
that the New Year will magically usher in that change; I have decided to use it
as a symbolic motivator.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Here's to a truly
New Year. Cheers!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-83218845568119206472011-12-27T15:59:00.000-05:002011-12-29T11:40:06.515-05:00NostalgiaI've said it before, but this space is long overdue for a face-lift. As far as my profile is concerned, I still live in Shanghai China and am "loving the adventure" there. The fact is I live in Royal Oak Michigan, and I can't come close to a similar sentiment regarding loving or adventure here. <br />
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While I recognize that this was part of my life and that I need to move forward, I am feeling strangely nostalgic these days. As I sit here contemplating how to approach the changes needed, I feel slightly tempted to leave this blog as it is and just start a new one. I have moments where I embrace the new and look forward to what will come, but I admit that those are few and far between right now. <br />
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It feels like I've taken a step back recently. We moved back to the US over eight months ago, and instead of feeling all settled in and ready to ride this wave, I find my thoughts going toward the what ifs. What if we had stayed in Shanghai? What if we could go back? What if? What if? What if? It's unexpected and frustrating. I figured I would have gone through these thoughts and emotions in the beginning of repatriation--not eight months after moving back to my home country. I can psychoanalyze it to the nth degree, but I have decided to take a less painful approach and simply accept this as part of the process and try to understand it a little better.<br />
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This brings me to a note about our culture. So much of our culture is built around the worship of organization and methodology. We focus on minimizing risk, surprise, and failure. We like to know what to expect. We deal in measurable equations. We create routines, organize our families, schedule every moment of our time; and as a result we live with a sense that we are in control. Culture shock, repatriation, and reverse culture shock have been analyzed, written about, and placed into neat little stages. We have even staged grief as a process with the intent of better understanding and therefore equipping.<br />
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As a product of this culture, I found myself entangled in a web of thought surrounding repatriation and its stages. Whether conscious or not, I spent a great deal of time and energy wondering if my experience was normal, if I was in the right stage or if I was spending too much time in a particular stage. Somewhere along my thought path, I decided that I was taking far too long to move on and growing more frustrated with each day.<br />
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After a bit of reflection (thanks to Aimee Mann and Starbucks), I have come to a fairly simple realization about this whole process. I was hoping to come back, struggle a little, write about it, and then get over it and move on. I wanted a nice neat little package that I could go through with predictable results. For a variety of reasons- this has not been my reality or experience. <br />
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I have had to remind myself that I spent more than half of my married life in Shanghai. I lived, worked, and built relationships there. I learned the language, studied the culture, and traveled the land. In my attempt to live as fully as any foreigner can, China became part of me in more ways than I realized. I suppose I expected to come back, shed that part of me and meld into the community around me. Instead, I have been left with the realization that I need to find a way for the whole me to fit into the new reality in which I live.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-8195147971174139632011-12-27T12:40:00.000-05:002011-12-27T12:40:01.101-05:00Times TwoWhen the boys were born, I received an adorable little frame that read "Twins are Love Times Two". While putting laundry away the other day, I spotted the frame and thought back to the time when I placed their newborn photo inside. I wondered if that person had any idea what she would face two years down the road? I occasionally meet people in public who tell me how doubly blessed I am or how fortunate I am to have twins. I feel a pang of guilt as I fill in the phrase with my new updated versions "Twins are Vomit Times Two, Twins are Snotty Noses Times Two, Twins are Screaming and Waking All Night Times Two". But the guilt gets swept away by a little chuckle.<br />
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The last month has been a blur of runny noses, ear infections, coughing fits, vomit, diarrhea, ER visits, and countless calls to the pediatrician. Now that health has returned and life has approached our version of "normal" once again, I am content to stay right here.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-44021854649200876112011-11-30T21:42:00.001-05:002011-11-30T22:27:48.152-05:00Chronicles of the Trash Heap<br />
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<span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Returning to this blog after such an extended absence feels a bit
like climbing into my bed after a long journey away. It's comfortable and
familiar, but strange and surreal at the same time. It makes me feel like I've
been tossing about in beds that weren't quite right. Returning to the
familiarity of this space simply illuminates my sore and abused body, while
reassuring me that all will be well in the mornings to come. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I sit here in my basement amidst cartons containing bits of my
life- past and present. My trusty old computer has been located; and as of
Sunday it was connected to the Internet. Each day holds a small victory in
accomplishment and today I began the task of clearing paperwork. While small in
notable progress; getting rid of years of accumulated receipts, travel
mementos, fliers, and other useless trash is a worthwhile task.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As I stood in my living room thumbing through the years of
receipts and paperwork we collected in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region>, I was struck by an
unexpected sadness. The hundreds, if not thousands of receipts that lay on the
floor before me- became more than a useless grouping of papers that were
blocking my progress toward organization. They became little bits of history
that chronicled our lives through records of travel by taxi and subway;
memorable meals by way of the grocery stores; cultural exchanges by way of
local markets; and life lessons by way of local and international travels. These
small, seemingly unimportant and faded little bits were no longer an excitement
to toss away; but rather a reminder of what we had experienced over the last 5
years.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Suppressing the sudden urge to reclaim them from the trash heap, I let them go. </span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-53941814861829960542011-10-01T22:56:00.000-04:002011-10-01T22:56:54.460-04:00Repatriating...Still<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I sit here and search my brain for words, I find myself entangled, struggling to locate ideas among the cobwebs in my brain. The sense of triumph and accomplishment that came largely from the nights cleaning binge begins to wane; and the reality of my life and the fatigue that I feel hits me. </div>
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The last four months have been a struggle on many levels. I have moved from a foreign country where I lived in acute awareness of my "foreignness" every single day, back into my country of origin- where I feel oddly fit and slightly foreign still. I have moved away from my friends and a community that I came to know, love and rely on over the last 4 years; and I have entered a country that I no longer fully understand. I have become a mother to twin toddlers (toddler hood being a phenomenon that feels almost like birthing another set of children); and I have purchased a home that has required remodeling every square foot. It's been difficult to breathe, let alone gather myself enough to go through the process required by a person when they re- enter their home country after living abroad.</div>
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If it feels like I have been talking about this for a long time, it's probably because I have been. Our decision to purchases and remodel our home added an unusual delay to this entire process. Instead of digging in and spending time with old friends and trying to meet new ones; every extra minute has been spent working on this house. It's stunted the process for us and I fear it has dragged this whole thing out longer than needed.</div>
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I have been back in the US for close to 5 months now and I still feel like I am repatriating. All of our home goods are either in storage or laying in wait from China. I continue to live out of the 7 suitcases we brought with us from Shanghai back in May; and as the season change approaches- our complete lack of warm clothing is just another reminder of how behind we are.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-39561500362743038472011-09-27T10:08:00.001-04:002011-09-27T10:08:04.443-04:00Once AgainI'm in the midst of what feels like a sinking ship. My life surrounds me in boxes, my home is in renovation shambles, and there is no end in sight. I need to be writing more regularly, but the tiny keyboard on my iPhone isn't the most inspiring for creative thought.<br /><br />Admittedly things are much better than they were a month ago. While Some small part of me feels like I must acknowledge the bright side at all times; I can't shake the weariness I feel right now.<br /><br /><br /><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-85680330515710117012011-09-18T20:05:00.001-04:002011-09-18T20:05:46.296-04:00LightnessI find myself so desperate for an outlet that I have decided to navigate the ridiculously tiny keyboard on my iPhone and take this time to write. At the risk of sounding incredibly whiny or negative, I will say that the last 4 months have been some of the most difficult. It has been hard to keep perspective and positivity in the midst of the mounting challenges we have faced during our repatriation process.<br /><br />We are finally in our new home. I would like to report that all is wonderful in the land of DIY; but one problem after another delayed us to the point that we moved in with 80% of the upstairs finished, and a basement in complete and utter disarray.<br /><br />I am surrounded by the chaos of an international move, a home remodel, and twin todzilla's; but as I sit here looking around me and taking in the quiet that evening brings- I am grateful to be in my new home. I am lightened by the sense of progress and hope in a light at the end of the tunnel. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-10712663699854530152011-07-12T11:02:00.000-04:002011-07-12T11:02:41.032-04:00The InevitableThe inevitable. I struggle ever so slightly against it, but realize the time has come to give my blog a major overhaul. It is time to change and update everything about it- its photos, its purpose, and its mission. In working toward these changes, I find myself struggling with the identity of this space in the blogosphere; and through that, have come to realize it's my own identity I am struggling with.<br />
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For the last four plus years I have been Jen Kinney- wife and adventurer; living out a life long dream in the city of Shanghai. I have been an explorer, a student of language and cuisine, a writer, and a traveler. I have had the opportunity to wear many different hats and enjoyed each and every one of them.<br />
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As if life wasn't exciting enough- I added the hat of motherhood to my wardrobe. While living in Shanghai we welcomed our twin sons into our family and it has been one of the greatest adventures and challenges yet. However wonderful motherhood can be, I find myself in the midst of this repatriation fumbling my way through stay- at- home mommydom and asking some major questions about what it all means.<br />
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Hence the identity crisis of sorts...<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">All of this to say I am not sure when or how these blog changes will take place, but I am certainly working through the details and trying to figure it out. Perhaps this is my way of hanging on, but the time will come when letting go and changing course feels natural. Until then, c'est la vie!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-81545351699091212672011-07-08T17:12:00.000-04:002011-07-08T17:12:47.203-04:00Here It GoesFor the life of me I cannot figure out how or why a video window appeared on my previous post. I therefore, have no greater idea how to remove it. Sorry to those of you hoping to see some adorable little video of the boys- but there is nothing to it. I'm hoping that as quickly and mysteriously as it appeared- it will disappear.<br />
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Now on to more or less interesting topics of discussion. I finally have some form of technology that allows me to write again. For those of you ipad, laptop, desktop, multiple techno peeps out there- I can assure you there is nothing glamorous, mysterious or wonderful about the technology free life. So take all those thoughts you have of simplifying your life and running off to some remote space in Ireland to write on paper... with a pen; and toss them out the window. By all means, go to said remote space in Ireland, but just make sure they offer wireless.<br />
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Being back in the US has been challenging on many levels, but none more than my lack of time to put thought into written form. I have so many things to sift through and process before I can even begin to share them. We have been caught up in a whirlwind since returning and I am ready to settle down and process through some of these things already.<br />
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There are times when I am reminded that I have not fully slotted back into this life here in the US. Times like last night when my husband brought my new vehicle home (a minivan) and I cried...in a beer. No really. I sat down, drank a beer and cried. All because we bought a minivan. I'm thinking that's not normal, so I decided I needed to take some time, let the towels and laundry pile up a little; and just sit down to write while the boys napped. I figure it's time to invest a little in my mental well being for the sake of my sanity as well as my family's.<br />
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So here's to processing on repatriating...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-33649627417893921592011-07-02T09:51:00.000-04:002011-07-02T09:51:23.398-04:00Little More<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><img src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/video_object.png" style="background-color: #b2b2b2; " class="BLOGGER-object-element tr_noresize tr_placeholder" id="ieooui" data-original-id="ieooui" /> <style>
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</style> <![endif]--> <div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It’s been a while since I have had a chance to sit down and write. I am grateful for my husband who is at home with the children this morning, the hand-me-down laptop that I am writing on, and the coffee that accompanies my brain on this rather dusty road toward a new blog post. </div><div> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">To say that it’s been a long journey to this point is an understatement. We’ve been back in the US for almost 2 months; and in that time we have found and purchased a home, made full plans to remodel it, purchased one vehicle and continue to search for another one. We have celebrated milestones with our children and continue to marvel at how much they blossom and change from one day to the next. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I struggle to find words outside of common clichés but there are moments when it feels like we have been here for days and other moments when it feels like we never left the US. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It’s strange to think that such a significant part of our lives can grow to feel like a distant memory in such a short period of time. We spent close to four and a half years living in China. We built lives, made life long friends, traveled its vast land, learned the language, engaged in the culture, and gave birth to our children there. Though temporary, Shanghai was our home; and I am struggling to feel like it is little more than a dream at this time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-45201516201024930962011-06-14T11:47:00.001-04:002011-06-14T11:50:35.549-04:00Reverse Culture ShockIt's been a little more than one month since we moved back to the US and I am just starting to feel reverse culture shock. Since our arrival to the US we haven't stopped long enough to take much in. We've looked for homes, made offers, done inspections, walked away from a house, and started the process all over again. From house hunting and car purchasing, to living everyday life; I haven't had much time to breath, let alone sit and think about how I feel in the midst of this colossal change.<br />
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We made an offer on another house and it passed inspection. With one major "to do" checked off our list, it appears as though my psyche has made room for some amount of processing. I would have preferred a little advanced notice, but instead I awoke this morning to a rather weighty presence known as reverse culture shock. I've been trying to shake it all day but it just won't go away. I miss my friends back in Shanghai as well as the city itself, and I have this looming sense that I don't want to be here, I don't want to buy anything, and I don't want to commit. Yesterday's excitement of rebuilding the interior of my soon- to-be new home has been squelched by the invader of today.<br />
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I would really like it to just go away, but will likely need to accept that this is a natural part of repatriation. Easier said than done of course...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-46504511329949957982011-06-08T07:15:00.001-04:002011-07-02T09:47:28.698-04:00Time CrunchIt's early Wednesday morning and I am on the couch in my living room trying to get a few words in before my children wake. I wish I had more time to write. There are so many things going on here and so little time to actually process through them. That in combination with the fact that I have no computer, the only Internet connection is rather inconveniently located in the kids play area, and I have no time; make my desire to blog little more than that- a desire.<br />
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Phil just informed me that he is getting ready to leave for work and needs his laptop, so more later I suppose...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-67992984700188240662011-05-15T17:16:00.000-04:002011-05-15T17:16:14.530-04:00The ReturnWe have been on US soil for approximately 48 hours now and I am not really sure what to say about it all. I think I will need a little more time to unpack, unwind, and try on this new life of mine before I am able to share what I am thinking and feeling. For now, the fog of jet lag and the task of starting life all over with my husband and twin toddlers is taking much of my time and mental energy...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-3229934858689530592011-05-04T21:48:00.000-04:002011-05-04T21:48:35.859-04:00Repatriation: Covered Over<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“My new life back in the United States lay before me with a degree of mystery and heaviness as I weaved the buggy from one street to the next”….</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The paths I have carved will soon be covered over by others. The people and places I have come to know and love will continue on. The security guards, the elderly ladies, and the various neighbors walking along will no longer marvel at the shuangbaotai as we enter their gates, walk down their streets, or pass by their knitting circles. The guards who sit at the entrances of my xiao qu’s (neighborhoods) will go on greeting other foreigners as they venture in to wander the quiet streets- hoping to catch a glimpse of local life and perhaps understand the culture a little more. They will all continue on with their daily lives; unchanged by our absence.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It’s hard to comprehend what life will be like in the absence of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Shanghai</st1:place></st1:city>. While I have ideas of what life will be like back in the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">US</st1:place></st1:country-region>, I do not know what it will be like as a repatriated expatriate. It’s commonly understood that repatriation is oftentimes more difficult than the initial move to a foreign land, and I am not naïve enough to think that I will escape this difficulty. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-39723280859407985182011-05-01T23:58:00.001-04:002011-05-04T21:33:48.482-04:00Suitcases<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">We finally sat down today to discuss the inevitable week before us. Procrastination is one way of explaining how we got to this point; but we realized we were down to the wire, so it was time to do something. I think the combination of my moderate recovery from aforementioned sinus pressure, our first farewell party with friends last night, and the realization that the movers are coming in oh…1 week!- has motivated us to get on with the tasks at hand.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I started making mental notes about what I could live without for the next few months, what I absolutely had to have with me, what would go into our large shipment, what would be packed and taken by us on the plane, and so on. It all feels a bit surreal. I have started to go through the motions; now I guess I will have to wait and see if the reality comes along as a result of these motions. I keep waiting for this whole thing to sink in and hit me, but the reality is- it may not until I get back to the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">US</st1:country-region></st1:place> and start settling into my new life there. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">After our "planning meeting" I began gathering all of our suitcases- pulling them from their various hiding spots throughout the house, dusting them off, and taking inventory of the tasks that lay before me. As I stood there looking at the collection of empty suitcases awaiting their future contents- it occurred to me that I've lived in this city over 4 years now. These rag tag suitcases have flown countless miles and journeyed with us on some of the most amazing, beautiful, and oftentimes challenging adventures throughout China and the world. I have built a life, a community, started a family, and experienced more than I could have ever dreamed possible over these last four years, and now it’s time to pack that all up into a few suitcases and move on…</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-25536396832515122652011-04-28T23:36:00.000-04:002011-04-28T23:36:01.900-04:00Sinus Pain<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">My children are playing rather happily for the first time in over a week so I am taking this opportunity to write a little about our journey toward repatriation. We’ve all been sick since Monday so the time marking our second to last week in this apartment has been a bit of a blur. I keep reminding myself that we are moving back to the US in approximately 2 weeks, but I’ve given up trying to comprehend it as it seems far to difficult to do so.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Instead, I just have this looming sense that being sick; and therefore accomplishing nothing in the way of moving us back home- has put me even farther behind in this process than I feared possible. I am hoping that this brain numbing sinus pressure will clear soon, so I can think straight and get to the tasks at hand. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460482416903280629.post-85608098138277741982011-04-25T01:42:00.002-04:002011-05-04T21:54:40.880-04:00Uninvited Guest<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I went for one of my daily walks with the boys yesterday. As I passed all of the usual people and places within my local neighborhood- an uninvited guest reminded me that these sights, smells and sounds I have come to know as home, would be nothing more than memories in a matter of weeks. <span class="Apple-style-span">My new life back in the United States lay before me with a degree of mystery and heaviness as I weaved the buggy from one street to the next...</span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13108347788301608823noreply@blogger.com0