London Mum

A couple weeks ago, we went on vacation. 11 days in total, two locations, enough time and distance to recoup from 45 days plus three years of very hard work. 

A couple days in though, I had already logged 12 hours of work, I hadn't had time to read, I didn't have a puzzle going, and I needed to be on the phone again in an hour. Mary was asking to go off with a friend. Bobby was pleading to go fishing with Dad. Margaret had a tick bite, ear infection, and pink eye. The twins were fussing and desperately in need of a nap. Peter was at the grocery store. And I lost it. 

'Who do you think this vacation is for?' I yelled. 'It's for me and Dad. It's not for you!' 

They were shocked. No, appalled. I was shocked and appalled too. Oh my God, did I just say that? 

Bobby being the wit he is, in words dripping with sarcasm said, 'seriously? This is not our vacation?' 

I rethought my words (and tone) and immediately apologized. 

'Okay, yes, it's all of our vacation, but I need ALL of you to give me some grace right now.' 

I was forgiven in minutes, or maybe seconds. And the kids pulled back on their persistent pleas. But I've been guiltily processing this moment of becoming the mom of a horror film for a couple of weeks. Yes, my career and its implications have been stressful. Yes, it triggered an outburst. But I have to remember that life is happening to all of us, not just me. In fact, I'm the creator of our dismantled and displaced existence. I should be the one holding it together. Or at least holding myself together.    

I'll back up. 

About two months ago, I was pulled into a drive thru of one of my restaurants to discuss the trend line of a recent promotion ... and my career. I had answers to the trend line, I waited for responses on my career path. There were some developments on that front. They wanted me to move abroad as early as July. Would I be open to it? 

I called Peter. He confirmed that yes, we would. So we opened the door. 

A week later I was told we needed to start the immigration process, look at International Schools and assess places to live. We might want to dabble in learning the language as a family, time permitting. Ik eet de botterham. Still got it. They also wanted me to take a leadership assessment. So in no shorter than 9 hours, I took it.  

Each week, while still managing my old job, I asked for a status or confirmation of next steps, and got nothing. 'Things are still fluid' they said. 

When my assessment came back, the company pivoted. From one country to a different one. From a lateral move to a promotion. From one language to another. Yes, clearly fluid.

At that moment, after calls from the biggest of bosses, we had 45 days to get passports in Pittsburgh, a visa in Boston, an e-visa somewhere in between the UKIV website and hell, landscape, window wash, patch up, and clean up a house, fly to London to find a new home, navigate the odd and highly ineffective world of educational consulting to find a school, get the kids into the school(s), pack our house, learn a new and floundering business, finish off an old, but booming business, train my successor, and say goodbye to an incredible network of relationships I've built at work and in my community over the past three years. Plus go on a vacation. 

Said vacation was a non-negotiable, because I hadn't been on one since spring break. While corporate America agreed on paper, it's reality as well as motherhood had other plans. There would be a last minute fire drill at work, there would be anxiety about the move, there would be kids who didn't want to cooperate, and there would be a general inability for me to relax. I will say though, the last day in Cape Cod was perfection. I achieved harmony: an 11 mile shining sea trail run, Peter's joy of fishing for and catching Benito, a great book on the beach, oysters and lobster for dinner, getting to hang out with friends, incredible champagne, and kids on their best behavior. I vowed over Cristal and the most beautiful sunset to return to this place, mentally and physically again. Hopefully in the nearer future. 

On the next segment of our vacation, I remembered that it was for them. I did work a couple of days, but mostly, I just played with my kids, and let them play and play and play with their cousins. I would still like my vacation though. 

Today, we made it through 45 days of crazy, onto the next stage of adjustment and refining our definition of life. We are in central London and everything is different: The way people talk. The way people drive, bike and run. The way you look to the right then left. The toilets and how they flush. The smells, sounds, flickering lights, broken refrigerator, weak internet, and many flights of stairs in our temporary house. The number of languages spoken in the streets. The cereal made without all the fabulous tasting yet banned ingredients in the UK. And the very orange yolk of the eggs and how they discolor the scrambled version. 

Despite what we've considered a challenge, despite what's been stressful, I am incredibly proud of how everyone has adjusted and embraced the excitement of a newfound life.  

Mary has adapted to the styles and designer tastes of Sloane street, has leaned in to what the West End has to offer, and even went for a run with me in Hyde Park.  

Bobby has bravely navigated the Tubes and found new taste treats in Peri Peri wings at the local Pub and Spicy Chicken McNuggets at the local McDonald's.  

Margaret is over her pink eye and ear infection and is enjoying sleeping with me every night while Peter protects us on the first floor of our five floor, awkwardly designed temporary townhouse. She also loved the museum of transportation and reading the Underground map.  

Caroline and Jacqueline love Hyde Park and the playground near our house, the swans in Long Pond, being carried through the streets of London when their legs get too tired, and watching Bluey while eating Goldfish bought at the American store.  

I am most impressed with Peter though. He has navigated all of this brilliantly, to coin a British phrase. He has performed the role of household COO flawlessly, navigating a perverse 45 day check list, displaying a can do attitude at every turn. As an example, today, he navigated our seven seat Euro minivan to the Catholic School uniform shop in East Finchley, trying on and purchasing a plethora of uniform variations for forest, rain, sports, chapel, spring, summer, fall and winter for the twins and Margaret. He then entertained the youngest rascals until Mary and Bobby were done at school, picked them up and navigated his way back through the congested streets of London on the wrong side of the road to our place. He's been incredible. And I'm so thankful for him. 

There is no doubt, I will only be successful in my new role, if my family is successful. And my family couldn't achieve success without Peter's patience and attention to our day to day operations.  

With all this said, it's about three and a half months till our first vacation. I will need it. We all will need it. And I pray every morning to be the best mom I can be, given all that's going on. 

Lo.