First days of school

Here in Scotland, school starts in late August. As I write this on August 24, today marks the third day of school, and my first good, long cry about the start of big-kid school for my boy.

Day one was as expected: lots of nervousness and excitement for us (well, me) and Luke, and all the other kids and parents were in the same situation. It was the big first day for everyone. I snapped lots of pictures (see below) to commemorate the moment

But today, on this third day of school, without a camera in hand, hit me hard. I realized as soon as I walked back through the door after dropping off Luke, that while I had no photographic evidence of today's milestone, I must write about the experience of today, and put in words, as best I can, the emotional impact.

On the school memo, it was asked that parents encourage the children to begin the day in the school play yard. Beginning today, we were to drop off our children to this area, and they would line up and enter the school building once the bell rings to mark the start of the school day. I prepped Luke during breakfast that we would do this, and that I would stay with him as he needed. He seemed really fine about it, which surprised me somewhat, and began to talk to me about a game he and his P7 buddy had been playing in the play yard.

Fast forward to drop off: we go through the school hand-in-hand, and exit into the play yard. Luke seems somewhat nervous, so I chat with him about the plan: I will stay with him until he finds his buddy or it is time to line up. We stand awkwardly near the doors when a P5 girl comes over and asks his name and if she can help find his buddy. (I, of course, was immediately charmed by this girl and her kindness.) I chatted with her, since Luke suddenly became silent and shy, almost hiding behind my back as we talked. Because Luke does not remember his buddy's name and cannot describe what he looks like, we are no closer to finding him through the help of this nice little girl.

After a few minutes, some more P1 children and their mums arrive in the play yard. Eventually, Luke and I head off, still hand-in-hand, to look for his buddy. After arriving at the opening of the football pitch, we see the kind P5 girl again, who asks if we've had any luck. At that moment, a boy about 11 years old appears with a huge smile, saying "Hiya, Luke!" Luke brightens immediately, as I introduce myself to this confident boy (whose name is Callum, by the way). Before I know it, Luke extracts his hand from mine, and takes the one Callum has offered, and off to the football pitch they go, Luke holding Callum's hand and skipping to the farthest goal post.

I find it hard to describe the way I felt at that moment. It was a mix of so many complex emotions that I think I may not have the words to accurately frame the experience. In a moment, I felt both joy (at Luke's happiness and the choice of this nice young man as his buddy) and fear (of whether he will be safe on a pitch with quite bigger kids). I felt excitement for the fun Luke would have playing the game with big boys, and angst over whether he would feel nervous playing a game he doesn't understand. I was also thrilled that he was no longer clinging to me in fear, but I had another difficult-to-articulate thought that made me feel quite sad. It wasn't that I felt obsolete or superfluous, but I felt a pang of sadness that felt a little like loneliness. Here was the boy I had with me for these past five-and-a-half years, joyously skipping away from me, moving toward something different, something apart from me.

It seems I don't have the right to feel sad at this (but I'm learning not to judge my emotions, so I won't linger here too much...) since for so long, I have been looking forward to moving away from the baby stage and into childhood. It isn't that I want to wish time away, but I personally found the baby and toddler years hard (yes, I know all parenting is hard, but I really struggled quite a lot to hold it together in those years). I know these school-age years come with their own challenges and heartaches, but these are also the years I've anticipated for the interactions and relationships we can have. So how could I be sad when this is what I've been wanting? I don't know. I only know that emotions are complex things that I don't fully understand, and that sometimes the most meaningful and memorable moments we encounter are those that come with such an array of feelings that words couldn't possibly explain the depth of the experience.

Some photos from the first day of school

All ready to go and looking up to his Daddy

Playing in the big P1 room

Playing with K'NEX as parents leave the room

I kept snapping photos as I walked out, and was somewhat surprised that Luke didn't turn around and look for us. 

Update from the morning of August 31: We have had a week of school that has gone really well. It has been wonderful that Luke has started school with excitement. He seems to be enjoying his time at school, and most days, reports (at least a little) about what he has learned. He has told us he has at least two friends from his class. He has really enjoyed the lunches he gets to choose from the school cafeteria. Each morning's drop off looks similar to the one I described above, and the emotional intensity has lessened for me. I am now looking forward to next week, when Luke will stay for the whole day (9 a.m. until 3 p.m.), which coincides with Maggie's nursery schedule.

(And I will be sharing tidbits from Maggie's nursery experiences in a future blog post as well.)

Little legs and a big hill

Last weekend, we climbed a mountain!

Okay, that is not true. We did not climb a mountain. We climbed a hill. But as a city girl, born and raised, judging elevation is not my strong suit. If I had climbed to the top of this hill when I was a child, I certainly would have thought of myself as a mountain-climber. Judge for yourself.

We climbed this.

Photo taken during a walk in December 2014 - We had a much greener walk yesterday. 

Yes, the children climbed it too. It was a gloriously sunny afternoon in Scotland, and with Uncle Paul and Marian visiting, we decided to lace up the hiking boots and enjoy some time in the great outdoors.

When we were visiting Dumfries back in December, Chris and I climbed to Waterloo Monument on a particularly nice winter day. As we climbed, we encountered a family with children about the same age as ours. We were surprised to see such young kids climbing quite a wet and steep hill, and after passing them, we commented to each other that we didn't think our kids would have the endurance to do it. (I know, I know, we were imposing a self-fulfilling limitation, but at that time, we had reasons to believe that to be true.)

Uncle Paul, Maggie, and Marian at the start of our walk

Over the past several months, we've done a lot of walking in the forests and countryside of southwest Scotland. Luke and Maggie have walked nearly every step right alongside us. Maggie rode on my back for the last 15 minutes to the summit, but not at all bad for a nearly 3-hour excursion. They have built up their stamina to the point that their own little legs got them up to the very top of the monument. Photographic evidence below!

View from the top of the monument

It was a lovely day, and we had a good number of laughs on the way up and back down again. While I wouldn't call myself an outdoorsy kind of girl (why I need label myself at all is another blog post altogether!) it is worth nothing that I always feel amazingly wonderful after a long walk in the great outdoors. It does something to me (slows me down? helps me breathe? creates a calm?) that just feels great, even if I can't put my finger on exactly what it is.

A beautiful day and a gorgeous view

Tree stump hugging on the way back down the hill

Building routines in our new home

I know, I know, it's not much of a blog if there is no new content. Truth is, we've been so busy these last few months with travel, that I haven't carved out regular time to record our adventures. Instead of being upset at the absence of blog entries, as I likely would have been in the past, I am moving on with the intention of doing what I can going forward. That kind of attitude is enough for me these days. It makes me a happier, calmer, more easy-going person. (Have your met the new Nancy?!)

So life in Scotland.... if you're wondering what it is like, imagine your own life and then just imagine that you are doing all the same stuff, but in a different place. Am I making life here sounds dreamy and wonderful? Probably not, I realize, but the honest-to-goodness truth that I am beginning to understand is that life is life wherever one goes. There are dirty dishes and clothes to be washed, groceries to be purchased, meals to be cooked, budgets to be followed. To some this may sound dreary and mundane, but to me, it really isn't at all. These little tasks become the glue that holds our days together, and I am learning how to create routines out of them that serve our family well.

Chris and I have been married nearly seven years, and Luke has been on this planet for five-and-a-half of those years and Maggie for nearly four, so why is it now (now that we have moved across the world) that I am learning to create household routines that serve us, and appreciate the simplicity of daily habits? On reflection, I think it has to do with removing myself from what I had been doing in order to break old (bad) habits. Some might think that such a move would create upheaval and stress that would undermine creating structured routines; I have found the opposite to be true. In a new place, I have begun to establish fresh habits without the effort of determination simply because the new place triggers the habit automatically. (Shout out to Gretchen Rubin and her book Better Than Before, which highlights this principle so well.)

To me, one of the most exciting thing about returning back to Scotland from our lengthy visit to the States, has been to focus on building these routines. There is certainly time and space for FUN, and we do have lots of that (to be chronicled in future posts), but when the routines are the foundation of our days, I find my head is clear, my house is clean, and most importantly, my family is happy.

As a teaser, enjoy this photo of us "punting" on the River Cam in Cambridge during a recent visit with our lovely friends Hugh and Nicky and their lovely wee ones (and yes, I do plan to write about our trip in a future post).

Life in Scotland so far...

We arrived in our new town of Dumfries, Scotland, on April 1, and in the past 38 days, life has changed drastically. Of course, there is still so much to share regarding the final weeks of packing up our life in America, and most of all, our moments of saying goodbye to beloved family and friends, as well as our actual travels (and fun and worries on our British Airways flights) but for now, I'll start with where we are... and at the moment, that is actually living in Scotland.

Enjoying the local playground

We arrived on the day the school Easter holidays began, which means that Luke and Maggie would not be able to attend preschool for the first three weeks of our time here. With full time care of the children, setting up our new home, and a business trip for Chris thrown in the mix, my writings regarding our adventures have been sorely neglected. Excuses, excuses. 

So now more than a month after arriving here, I share some of our story.

Luke & Maggie enjoying
their "babychinos" from
Starbucks during our
first week in Scotland

The kids seem happy, and seem to understand that we are living here now. They often talk about people and things back in "'merica" as well as seeming to understand the vast distance between where we are and where we used to be. They frequently ask about when some treasured people will come visit us here in Scotland. Maggie especially has a growing view of what Scotland is. We realized upon arrival that she believed  Scotland to be her Granny and Papa's house, not an entire nation. (Touching down in Glasgow, I said, "Here we are in Scotland!" to which Maggie replied firmly and with great annoyance, "This is NOT Scotland!" Um, okay.) In fact, they are adjusting to life here quite well, much better than I ever could have expected. I suspect the growing pains will occur as they start to really understand the scope of distance and time. 

I am managing well despite a few moments of homesickness in the first couple weeks. I am happy to report that I have made some friends in these past weeks. Having friends here has really helped with feeling more comfortable and more at home. A visit from my American pal, Robert, also really eased the feelings of homesickness, as hearing another American accent and reliving old memories together made me feel so much better.

A fun visit with Robert during the first days in our new home 

Note the steering wheel is on
the right side of the car in the
picture above... and below is
a very happy me on the day
we got our car!

I am beyond pleased to report that I have mastered the Scottish roads, and can now safely drive! This is huge news for me! Prior to arriving, one of my biggest fears was the need to learn to drive a manual car since I had only ever driven automatics before. Chris attempted to teach me ONE TIME for several minutes in his Mustang over 8 years ago, but I swear that car had the stiffest clutch of all time, and I walked away defeated, and I refused to ever try again (even though I really wanted to be able to drive a stick). Well, here, automatic cars are few and far between. They are available, but not widely so. My very patient father-in-law gave me about a week's worth of lessons followed by his assurance and approval that I was road-ready. I've been driving all around town, on the left side of the road (on the right side of the car) going around roundabouts and doing hill starts! Who would've thunk it, huh? It sure does feel good to achieve a goal I've had for quite some time, and it is so wonderful that it is also a really useful tool. 






Chris has been extremely busy with work, but has been enjoying more time with his parents, as well as with our family. We have been spending time together at weekends doing family-oriented activities, like swimming, hiking, walking, picnicking, and visiting local parks and playgrounds. There have been other highlights as well, like Luke and Maggie starting "nursery," a trip to Ireland for a long weekend of Irish wedding festivities (believe me, that weekend deserves a post of its own!), learning the Scottish grocery stores (they are more different than you might think...), and the kids learning how to ride bikes. 

Drumlanrig Castle

Pointing out the castle as we begin
our "enchanted forest" walk

The "enchanted forest" walk at Drumlanrig

Posing by a stream at Drumlanrig

At Drumlanrig Castle's Adventure Playground

This is the slide our kids mastered!

Silly boy with "sweater hair" during sunny outdoor lunch in Thornhill 

Enjoying a coffee while kids play at school 

First day of nursery!

Tea and scones (or hot chocolate and
grilled cheese... either way it's yummy!

A spot of tea (or hot cocoa)

So life in Scotland so far has been good, and I certainly hope it continues to be a positive experience for us. I plan to post more often, so stay tuned, although we have a trip back to the States planned in just a couple weeks, so expect to see some American highlights of the upcoming summer as well.

To end, here are some Scottish things to enjoy....

Lots of little lambs with their grown-up friends hanging around!

And if you're driving, watch out for sheep crossing!

A Scotch egg.... just because!

Another lesson in simplicity

More boxes, more purging, more organizing and more packing! In the days since my last post, I have been busy with all the details related to moving. While it may seem boring, rote, or mundane to some, the process of purging (and in turn, simplifying) has actually been a fun and worthwhile experience. And though it sounds strange to say it, I have been enjoying this process.

Last week, we decided each of us would have 5 outfits to wear between now and the move. As with most new things I try, at first I thought it would be difficult to have so few choices of things to wear; but I persisted and did it anyway because I wanted to get the bulk of our clothes packed and out of the way for an easier time these last couple weeks before the big trip. C has referred the the giant pile of garments awaiting washing or folding on our bedroom floor as "Mount Clothesmore," and he reminded me that getting most of our clothes out of the way would give me less laundry to do in these crazy weeks, thus reducing or eliminating the frequent appearance of Mount Clothesmore in our home. And you know what... he was right! 

The 5 outfits really became 7 or 8 each (due to what was already lurking in the washing machine after I put all the clothes away), but even that number has made a huge difference to how much time I spend washing, drying, folding, and putting away our clothes. What is in our drawers now actually gets worn. Of course, I am doing laundry more frequently, but even that has been better. It feels less like an enormous chore to tackle, and more like a normal task that requires little effort or planning like it once did. (Does anyone else see their mountains of laundry as an "experience" or is that just me?! Or perhaps you've figured out how to NOT have mountains of laundry in the first place. If that is you, please call me immediately with all your tips on simplicity!)

Organized closet, no longer bursting with clothes

One side of my closet completely empty!

On a seemingly unrelated (but very much connected) note, I splurged this week and bought Gretchen Rubin's new book called Better Than Before: Mastering the Habits of Our Everyday Lives. It was just released this week, and I bought it on Amazon pre-order. I absolutely loved her book The Happiness Project, and was really psyched to dive into a new book of hers. 

Just a few pages into this new book, Rubin talks about how knowing ourselves can help us form good habits and break bad ones. Among other qualities, she talked specifically about abundance vs. simplicity. She says, in a nutshell, that those who love abundance do well forming habits that relate to their appreciation for having more, while those who love simplicity do best with simple environments and solutions. She references the idea of a spectrum, as well, and that we may find ourselves more on one end than the other. 

This idea of hers makes total sense to me, but my a-ha! moment came along when I realized that my place on that abundance-simplicity spectrum is likely shifting. I have lived in abundance for so long, and it seemed to be my default. I collected lots of things over the years, but they were not enhancing my life; in fact I have come to realize through this experience of organizing for a trans-Atlantic move, my inclination towards abundance has been detrimental. I have had more than I needed and wanted, and became a servant of my things. Cleaning them, organizing them, finding space, moving them, hiding them when guests would come. All this time living that way, and I was oblivious to the reality of my situation. 

My copy of Better Than Before - it's good, like really, really good!

Having fewer things appears more of blessing than having more. I am an extremely lucky person to have everything I need: food, clothing, shelter, and love, and of course much more. I also feel very lucky to have realized that my inclination to have and consume more stuff has been holding me down. Am I a lover of simplicity? I don't know exactly. I think my place on that spectrum is moving further towards living the simple life. And I think my new-found appreciation of simplicity will bring me abundance in other ways: better relationships, more time, less stress, and learning to be happy and grateful for what I do have. 

I will sign off now because the calendar says 11 days, and the much-neglected kitchen needs my attention.

A little lesson about stuff (otherwise known as "the burden of things")

When we last moved over three years ago, L was not even two years old, and little M was basically still a newborn. It was mayhem! We rented the biggest moving truck we could find, and we filled it twice. It was a cold Saturday right before Christmas. It was insane.

Most of the stuff we unloaded went into the garage. Some of this stuff resurfaced occasionally, but more often than not, things stayed in boxes tucked away in the garage, long-forgotten and most definitely not needed.

That move nearly did us in! C was frustrated that we had so much stuff. I was bleary-eyed, barely awake, with a baby in my arms constantly, and I couldn't really say much since most of the things were mine, accumulated over the years. After all, C only moved here from the UK just about 5 or 6 years before that big move, so he hadn't really had the time to build up a collection of junk as I had. I have learned to be gentle with myself regarding the stuff. I found it difficult parting with things at that time, and life really was crazy with two babies. I was overwhelmed to say the least, and really was doing the best I could. C has forgiven me for that monstrous move, and so have I.

While the truck-loads of stuff in the basement, attic, and garage bothered me from time to time, it was out of sight, and therefore out of mind. C would occasionally request we set aside a day to clean out the garage, and sometimes I'd put him off, or we'd schedule it and do a little bit, but for the better part of three years, we have lived with the burden of things.

***

When we began to discuss the possibility of moving to Scotland, we talked about many pertinent issues: the kids (how would they adjust?), our finances (would we be able to travel back to the States for visits?), our families (how would they react and handle this transition?), and me (am I really sane enough to move to another country? The jury is still out on that one!) One of our biggest questions was what would we do with all this stuff?

We didn't have a definite answer to that question, but we knew that not going because of stuff would be a huge mistake. Even in the early stages of our discussion, moving abroad seemed like an opportunity. Since going public with our news, many people have said how lucky we are to have this chance. And lots of people have mentioned having a desire to live abroad without a chance to do so. This seemed like an experience of a lifetime. How foolish we would be to allow clutter to limit such fantastic life choices!

The very next day, I started small by cleaning out a drawer. C was very proud and happy to see that I was serious about de-junking our home. And I was surprised at how good it felt to purge the stuff. Since October, I've been hard at work all over the house, and thank God for that, because with only 18 days left on the calendar, most of the big jobs are finished.

As a reformed hoarder (storage hoarder, not living-space hoarder), giving up "the thing" is not always easy. Sometimes, I agonize over whether something stays or goes. And if it stays, where do I put it? Back in a box, on display, or put to good use? If it goes, can it be sold, donated, recycled, or dumped?  (Stayed tuned for more about how I cleared out our home of a full truck-load of stuff!)

As I worked throughout the house, it seemed like something big was happening very slowly. I started to have a sense of perspective about belongings: they are just things. The really important stuff in life is not stuff at all. It's the people, the events, the opportunities, and the relationships that really matter. This newfound sense of perspective is a big life shift for me. It makes me consider the way we live. We are now striving for simplicity. Some wise folks have taught me to look for progress and not perfection. We are most definitely a work in progress.

This is not actually us, but it does accurately depict what is going on in our home these days!

How it all started....

I suppose it really all started when I fell in love with a Scottish man... well, he was a kid at the time, and so was I, but the point is the same. Long story short: we fell in love, we did the long-distance thing for a while, he finally moved to America, we got married, we had two kids ("L" & "M" for the sake of our blog), and we lived our lives here in the States. Life was beginning to look really good and easy for us. Our kids weren't babies anymore (and we were pretty much all sleeping through the night again), I was finishing my certification course in school counseling, and we were just allowing life to unfold in the way life does.

Then the hubby (we will call him "C") said, "Let's move to Scotland!" and I said, "Heck yeah!" and now we are living out the process of moving a family of four to another country. (Quotations above have been paraphrased for the sake of creative expression and to save my poor readers from really reading that whole very lengthy conversation!)

Some may ask why we are doing this. There are several reasons.

1. It has always been in the cards for us. Before we got married, C wanted to be sure we could travel back to his homeland and live there at some point for some length of time. Way back when, I agreed to this and I stuck by this promise.

2. We will be much closer to his family. C's parents are thrilled that we will be living so close to them in their hometown. It will be a wonderful opportunity to be near them as our children grow.

3. C was offered and accepted a new job that necessitates close proximity to Europe. (And Scotland is Europe!)

4. Last but not least, I must mention the serendipity of this situation. As we discussed our options, everything fell into place in such a way, that it seemed all the laws of nature were showing us this is our path.

Why a blog? As I discussed the details of my daily life in organizing our move to Scotland, more than a few people suggested I document the process of packing, purging, moving, and of course, living life in a new country. I thought that sounded kind of cool -- I'm not new to blogging or writing, so I knew I could do it -- but I didn't know what I would say. Living in the details of planning a move to a new continent did not seem incredibly interesting as I dusted off old boxes and spent time digging out long-forgotten items in the cobwebbed crawl space of our basement. I also wondered when I would write. I am blessed to not have an out-of-the-house career right now since my full-time job has become organizing our home and family for this move abroad. It seemed any time I would spend writing would take away from the monumental to-do-list tasks that monopolize my waking moments. But then, something started to happen as time went on, and I began to have big revelations about things (as in "stuff" and belongings), people, life, and priorities. And all of a sudden, I felt truly compelled to write about this experience. Now there just seems to be so much to say!

As I write this first entry, we are less than 3 weeks from our moving day. Our flight is 19 days away, to be exact. Some of what I will document in future entries will be real-time details, while other posts will be reflections of things that we've already done. In either case, I write these stories to provide an account of this unique experience for our friends and family, and of course, for ourselves. Feel free to follow us on our journey.