Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Everybody rides

On the eve of what is certain to be only the first of many grandparental visits to the new homestead for some Scout spotting, I'm pondering what it all is and what it means four months in to this splendid sojourn with my soulmate and my son.

Wendy Lu and I have talked about these shifts, not only in latitudes but in attitudes, from where we were just two short months ago to where we are now...but it boggles my brain sometimes even attempting to wrap around it.

Not only the physical change of coming out of the Eastern European kick in the head (but also the heart) that Kiev can be and landing smack dab in the middle of all the creature comforts that is American splendor, but also the change in gears from an expat's life abroad to mum and dad back home.

Culture shock? To be certain. But barbecue instead of borsch and sweet tea over Stolichnaya I can deal with. The drama that inevitably comes with all this family in such close proximity? Well...we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?

But hell, throw sticker shock in there too. Just a few short months ago, we paid (on average) less than 50 cents a day (for both of us) to travel to and fro about the try three bucks a gallon at the pump, boy-o. Less than 20 dollars a month in utilities this spring in the former Soviet space, comrade? How's 300 a month work for you, here and now? What. The. Fuck.

Okay, okay...I get it. Comfort costs. It's more expensive to live here because it's just so much nicer than that bolshevik backwater, right? Is it? Honestly? In some ways 'da' but in others 'nyet'.'s still just too soon to say.

But, home is home and it is a beautiful one. We've settled in, and we've finally got a nice little nest for our baby bird to bed down in each night after tucking him under wing and towing him across the world.

Beyond the lovely home on a hill, the wee one is just doing SO great. Because of this move, he's exactly where he needs to be. And I don't mean the U.S. or Ukraine. He's at home with his mommy each and every day receiving all the love and the support from the one (and only) person that can give it like she can give it.

The boy's just got a gleam in his eyes (when he's not napping), and a skip in his
step (if he were walking that is) that just has 'bubbly baby' written all over it. And after all, isn't that what matters most? His happiness?

When the walls close in, as they always tend to do when a traveler has to stop and sit for a spell, I remind myself of one thing and one thing only. Do it for him.

come on, wendy...tramps like us, baby we were born to run.


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