Was it all a dream

i was lathering up and glanced over at the Boy's all in one shower and hair gel. It was a brand we had in the house a lot before going to the States. It's just slipped back into our lives, just like that, no fuss, no bother. It's a stupid example, really. Americans don't really use shower gel and prefer soap. So the Boy dutifully used soap and a separate shampoo for the last three years.

We went to visit fam in Hampshire at the weekend. My sister-in-law wondered when I would drop the American baby terms I use and start saying nappy bag (is that what it's called?!). It's only a matter of time, I guess.

My point to this rambling is that in spite of the initial resistance and difficulties, and dealing with the inevitable reverse culture shock, a month of being at home, we are slowly slipping back into our old lives, our English ways. It's like New York never happened or it was a dream.

That is until I have a flashback of walking along second ave with the sun on my face, and then I feel a wee ache for home. My New York apartment was the longest I had lived anywhere since living in my parents' house over 17 years ago. So I may have been foreign, but it's where the Boy and I would return every night and where we spent our first few years of married life. So it'll always be home to me.

Losing Control (and then finding it again)

We always knew that coming home would be hard. However, I hadn't anticipated the shit stack of things to do, so much so that I was left feeling super overwhelmed for a couple of weeks. I'm a doer so I just get my head down and tick the things off the list. Until now. For the first time since the boys were tiny, The sea of tasks coming at me just felt too much. In the early days of the boys, it was exhaustion and endless crying. With this move, it was more the multitude of things that needed to be done yesterday.

We were ridiculously unlucky too. Firstly, we got bollocked at border control for essentially bringing in two illegal immigrants. Surely my British boys don't need to prove they're British! Apparently coming in on American parents with two British sounding parents isn't enough. 'If they were adults, we'd be sending them back now,' we were told. Oops. So off we trotted to the passport agency the very next day to get them their new British passports.

And then our boiler broke. So the boys were perpetually cold and are only just getting over their colds. And so I wasted a couple of days trying to get them a doctor's appointment - after having to register them, of course, and filling in reams of paperwork.

And then I got sick. As in, so sick I would normally have been in bed for a few days sick. It was like my body finally gave up. This last year has been too much and it said, 'enough! Time to recuperate!' It's amazing that I've only really been sick for one morning up until now, in spite of carrying twins, having them spend over two weeks in intensive care, the sleep deprivation, the GI issues they had as tiny babies, and then an international move. My body just broke down amongst the chaos of our lives right now.

The last few days, things have normalised. I watched tv for the first time since moving home. I have food in the freezer, which I can defrost if need be. I can run upstairs to get more if I need loo roll. Things are normal again.

But I still feel like I'm on holiday. Like I'll be going home soon. But as the Boy pointed out, it's good that I feel like I'm on holiday, because it must mean I'm starting to enjoy it. And he's right.

Being Green

I've had reverse culture shock bad. I could talk about a host of things, like, how unfriendly London mums are (I'm going to be lynched for saying that) and how I can't believe it takes three days for clothes to dry (praise be to John Lewis' electric clothes airer - very middle-aged of me) but I'm not going to. Instead I'm going to be talking green. 

As the years passed, the Boy and I became more americanised. I guess that was to be expected but I hadn't realised how quickly it would vanish again. Well, in terms of being green, anyway. I've always been pretty green but by year three of living in New York, I thought convenience was King. Since moving home I've realised New York was like Disney for me. Remember those spinny top things you get at Disney land? Everyone has one. It doesn't matter if you're 23 and uber cool (or not), you NEED one. And then, tou step off the train, look down into your hand and then wonder, 'what the bloody hell was I thinking?' That's what it's been like since moving back. 

Why do I need to use paper towels so much? Why am I using these freezer bags? In the same vein, I've made some dubious choices, e.g. Buying milk in a fancy soft pack recycled 'jug' that leaks everywhere. Whilst it prompted two people to go 'whooo, fancy', it was just a crap pint of milk. 

Anyway, my ramblings are leading to the fact that everyone has a pack mentality. It's hard to ignore these sentiments. Sure, I had twins last year but I think it'd been hard to shake those oh-nobody-else-is-bothering-so-why-should-I sentiments even if it were just the two of us. Moral of the story? Don't be weak like Chan. Stay strong to your convictions.