Posts Tagged ‘moving’

Adjusting (or not)

I find it difficult to get used to this place. The next door neighbor is a single mum with three young kids, and from my point of view the kids are out of control, the whole family constantly screaming at each other (and worse on occasion). Though her youngest and mine rarely play together- the pervasiveness of their life is starting to affect my kids. Rafe, who is normally incredibly good natured, has started screaming at me. I have long learned how to handle that type of behaviour and can nip it in the bud with a stern word of warning, but it disturbs me just the same. My daughter,11, occasionally plays with the other girls on the street, and afterwards she is belligerent, demanding and snotty. Trying to manage these new behaviours is demanding as they are not part of my kids normal makeup, and are the result of influence. I find that I have to be even more strict than usual and can’t let them get away with it for a second. My eldest is son is thankfully not yet affected, he is not allowed to hang out with the few boys his age on the street as I know they smoke and drink. He’d like to go to the skatepark but the kids there are nasty little cretins and Dev finds that instead of just being able to play, he has to spend his whole time arguing or standing up for himself. Never mind that he is bigger than the kids and could easily lay them out if he decided to let them have it, that’s not in his genetic makeup and I think they see that.

The nights are difficult. Though we are fairly tucked away, our road is some sort of bus through-fare and they come and go at all hours. People come and go all night as well, usually loud and drunkenly. The dogs of the neighbourhood wake me up early every morning with collective howling and barking. During the day the street is full of kids, normally just playing, but when the neighbor kids are about you can be sure their mother will turn up soon and they will all start screaming again, usually just outside our windows. The little one, only 6, will inevitably start crying and there will be more screaming and I end up pacing the floor, wondering what I can do and usually just taking my kids to the park so they don’t have to listen to it anymore. Once I could hear her sobbing through the walls with occasional screaming at the kids and I gathered up all my courage and went over to ask if I could help, maybe by taking her kids to the park or something, she pretended not to be there, and when I pressed said she was fine, thank you.

Her behaviour disturbs me, especially as I worry about her kids, and the effect on mine, and initially I was very judgemental about her. I softened though when I remembered being a single mother for 8 years with two kids, one of which would later be diagnosed with a “social communication disorder”, which just means he screamed a lot as a kid, and occasionally jumped out of moving cars on busy roads because he couldn’t control his anger. It took me a few years to get the hang of this parenting stuff, and I remember being so hard on my son for silly things. I want to help my new neighbour, but she clearly does not want my help. She struts around the neighbourhood, wine class in hand, screaming at her kids or sobbing about some transgression to the adolescent girls that make up her entourage. I find myself less sympathetic and understanding and more irritated and disgusted. When the screaming starts I twitch the curtains, worried she will strike one of the children and knowing that if, when, it happens I will not be able to stay out of it anymore. My family knows this, and while I don’t think they would truly want me to stand back if she were beating them, I know they want me to be quiet, mind my own business, not get involved. I feel embarrassed that they feel this way, that I am some big mouth always getting involved in things that they don’t think concern me. I feel ashamed of them, too. We once came across a man and a woman fighting in the back of the van at a red light. We could see him punching her, could see the blood on her face and clothes. Instinctively I got out of the car, started to shout at them but was dragged back in by the sounds of my family shouting at me. I knew it could end up with me being hurt and didn’t want my kids to see that, so I got back in, and called the police instead. I thought perhaps I had taught my kids an important lesson that night, but now I wonder. Could it be that I am raising kids, and am married to a man, who can stand back and do nothing while others are hurt or treated badly and worse, believe that is better somehow than getting involved?

I long for our detached house in the tiny little cul-de-sac, where the cats could sleep all day on the road outside without ever being disturbed, where the nights were mostly silent and the only noise on a Sunday morning are the church bells in town, which I opened my windows wide to, so that we could hear them better, especially in the winter, when they chime Christmas carols.



About seven years ago a friend of mine that I knew online introduced me through MSN messenger to a friend of his that he knew online. I knew my friend through a photography website/forum and he knew his friend through a forum for people with an unhealthy interest in airplanes. (Occasionally known as “anoraks” in this part of the world.) We hit it off and started chatting and emailing. Five months later, we were married and four months after that, my two kids and I got on a plane bound for England with a one-way ticket.

It has not been rainbows and butterflies, in fact it has been a rough road and last year we separated and remained that way for over a year. My husband moved back in a few months ago and a few weeks ago I slipped my wedding ring back on and didn’t take it off. Now we are in a difficult period of readjustment. I could fill a large room with all the reasons why we separated and all the reasons why we got back together, they are many and varied and sometimes even conflicting. What I wanted to share was an image.

Last night I was searching through some old emails and came across hundreds he had sent me in 2005. Every day, all different. They were pictures. Pictures he had taken. He chose the most beautiful, the most interesting, his best. The ones he wanted to share with me.

They are all beautiful images, but my favorite- the one that made me long for England, the one that excited my kids about our move, the one that convinced me that this move was the right thing to do was this one:


Oh, how I fell in love with this church. We talked about getting married there, and it became synonymous with England, with our new life. I’ve been to that church a few times since living here, it is local, but not close enough to walk to. It is as beautiful and quaint and picture perfect as in the image. This is such a beautiful country and if the day ever comes for me to leave, it will be with a sadness in my heart.

Day 6

Nightmare:  A family of five moving from a huge 4 bedroom Victorian house, with lots of storage space, to a cramped three bedroom modern house. With almost NO storage space.

And since we have moved in- the twisty thing for the blinds on the side door has broken and fallen off, the bathroom light pull has broken and needed to be replaced, the water seals have come out of the gaps in the 1/2 shower door repeatedly and now one won’t go back in at all. The floorboards creak incessantly, the porch is a 1/4 of the size of our old one and makes coming in out of the rain a nightmare.Especially when we’re bogged down with shopping, equipment,school bags, lunch boxes, coats, umbrellas. ARGH.

We have done virtually NO unpacking and there are boxes everywhere. I know I’m off today. The older kids are out playing, the baby is down for a nap. It’s the perfect time to start, but I can’t even face it.

All I want to do is eat. Just fill up the damn hole in my stomach. I’m hungry. HUNGRY. And frustrated. I feel like bursting into tears, I’m so hungry and crabby and I’ve got diarrhoea (a side effect of the diet) and.  and.


I need to start unpacking. And I need to go do jumping jacks or something for 30 minutes.

There will still be food in 3 months. I won’t be hungry like this forever.  I can have my yogurt in an hour. I have lost 5 pounds already.

moved in.

5 days

20 bruises

not a lot of sleep.

We are officially moved in, but there are still a lot of boxes to unpack.

I’ve enjoyed it for the most part though, I get up, make breakfast, tidy up, we do a bit of unpacking and sorting, the kids go swimming. It’s been nice. Back to work in only 5 days, though. That’s when it all goes to hell in a hand basket.

is that sunlight at the end of the tunnel, or just an express train?

Blue skies and sunshine! 

Move in date: 22 August

Bank balance: enough to cover deposit (right now. TODAY. Things may be different tomorrow!)

mood: cautiously optimistic

Finished the application for a McJob. The job has “fully flexible” hours, but my first FT job may work against me, we’ll see. Curious about my ability to hold down two FT jobs, a family, and a university course.

Throwing myself into the study guide for my psychology course. Thankfully all the note taking activities and such are not completley foreign to me. My biggest struggle will probably be using shorthand, as I have no experience with it, really.  Really excited for the course to begin in October!

Packing. Made some progress over the weekend. Most of the books are finally packed, the linen closet is almost done, and the china dishes and “special occasion” plates have been wrapped and packed.

hmm hmm hmmm hmmm hmmmmmm hmm hmmm

Thanks to Alexa, I’ve been singing the Golden Girls theme song all friggin’ week.  Which nobody appreciates, probably because people on this side of the pond? They don’t even know. Pity them. To them a Golden Girl is probably just a blinged out chavette with slightly kinky bedroom preferences.

May shift Thank You for being a Friend with, The Song that Never Ends, followed by Money For Nothing by Dire Straits, thus completing my spiral into moving insanity.

and so it goes…

Frustrated today.

 Got the house. BUT! House may not be available to move into until 20th August. BUT! We have to be out of our current property by 15th August to avoid paying Aug/Sep rent. BUT! Nowhere to go for possible gap between moving out and moving in. BUT! Can’t stay the extra month because need to have kids moved and settled before school starts 4 Sep.

Get paid 15th August. Perfect. We will have the first month’s rent covered so applied for crisis loan for deposit. BUT! They don’t pay deposits, only first months rent. BUT! They won’t pay first months rent until we have paid deposit and provided them with a receipt. BUT! We can’t pay deposit until the 15th, the day we are supposed to move in. BUT! Even then we’ll still be £272 short!

Started the application for a McJob. Didn’t cry. Yet.

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