The Open Road

We made the trip along the M62 to see Nanny and Grandad yesterday and what a pleasure the journey was. I'm guessing that most people in the UK take considerate, predictable driving by fellow road users for granted but not so those of us who've lived in Asia for the past 8 years. A flash of headlights by another motorist means 'I'm coming through!', not, 'Go ahead please...'. Any space will be jostled into and traffic lights are considered to be mere colourful distractions so it's always necessary to check, look and check again before making any sort of turn. When I first started driving in Taiwan, I was determined to maintain high standards but it very quickly became clear that if I was to be staunch in that ideal, no journey would be succesful in terms of time taken to travel and stress levels at the end of it. And so slowly the metamorphosis began and I whilst I sold my soul to the Roadrules Devil, I managed an accident free, mission accomplished Asian driving career.

The downside is of course, that when come home for our UK break, I must revert back to a more gentile and responsible manner behind the wheel which is easier said than done. I have to contend with a manual car after driving an automatic all year, resulting in many an attempted corner turn in fourth gear. I really do have to stop at red traffic lights even if I am turning left, and there are absolutely definitely no oncoming cars. I have to remember that it's considered polite in this country to actually let cars join the stream of traffic even if the cost is two seconds added to your journey. The most challenging mindset change is having to remember that when entering a roundabout, I must wait for a clear gap because the drivers already going around will not tolerate having to stop for me because I'm not prepared to wait my turn. It's all a bit of a struggle but as I'm getting used to it all again, I'm happy to declare that it is actually much less stressful to drive when the rules are being followed by all motorists, not just me. The next challenge will be getting used to driving on the opposite side of the road in Dubai, but just for now I'm enjoying a little bit of civilisation.

Down on the Farm....

Rosie is getting to an age where she is beginning to remember things from not only her recent, but her relatively distant past. It's become an annual summer event to visit Cannon Hall Open Farm in Yorkshire and she has very clear memories of her trip there last summer and therefore knew what to expect when we went there today. Emily on the other hand, was expecting to see tigers, giraffes and monkeys and no amount of explaination could convince her otherwise. The first animal that we saw was a wallaby which didn't exactly serve to reinforce the notion of what types of animals live on a farm. Further on, we saw what can traditionally be expected: lots of cows, sheep, goats, donkeys and pigs. The odd rabbit, guinea pig and llama were bonus animals. The girls were able to milk a cow (just a plastic one but they didn't seem to mind!), see pregnant sows and suckling piglets, feed the goats and generally be at one with nature albeit in a confined and controlled environment.

They were less than impressed by how smelly the pigs were and whilst Emily liked to idea of the animals feeding from her hand, when it came to it, most of her feed ended up thrown on the floor in a panic. It didn't help when a cheeky little goat helped itself to the feed bag from her hand and at this point she decided that feeding animals was simply beyond the pale and was content simply to watch. Rosie on the other hand, really got stuck into the feeding and with only a minor hiccup of a snorting billy goat to upset her, gladly used all her bag and what was left of Emily's as well.

There was only one significant disappointment of the day for the girls and that was that Grandma didn't get spat in the face by a llama like she did last year but the sun shone brightly, the ice cream was delicious and we have one more precious memory stored up of happy summer days in England.....

Home Sweet Home

When the weather is good there's nothing more perfect than an English Summer Day. We don't need blazing sunshine since we do all we can to avoid it in our life overseas. What is idyllic for us is to be able to play outside all day without fear of sunburn, dehydration or mosquitoes. Needing to wear a cardigan is a rare treat for our girls and despite being warned that the weather is up to it's usual July tricks, so far so good in the 2 days that we've been back. We've even managed a picnic on the grass. Rosie has the gardening bug and Emily likes to think she has although doesn't like having dirty hands which might prove to be a problem. The long journey and the associated jetlag has meant that both girls have been asleep before the last pages of their bedtime books are turned and I'm sure that the fresh air has helped too. We have lots of plans for the next few weeks and the girls are incredibly excited to be spending time with all their grandparents, cousins and friends. We're keeping our fingers crossed that the weather doesn't let us down but in any case it feels great to be home.

Mr & Mrs Part 2

After a morning ceremony that couldn't have been quieter, the real fun began. Our friends had organised a great party for us with indian food, copiuous amounts of wine, beer and champagne, the traditional wedding cake, flowers, marquee and more.....

The first hour or so was spent greeting our guests and then Andy gave me the first surprise of our married life; a confident, funny and upbeat speech to welcome our guests and to say a few words of appreciation to all our wonderful friends that we've made over the past 4 years. If you'd have asked me before, I would have said that public speaking (even amongst friends) would have given him terminal case of the heebie jeebies, but I would have been wrong.

The next surprise was one that sent me into the ugly cry. The girls and Andy had very cleverly got their heads together and organised Malysia's very own Tom Jones/Elvis Presley impersonator to come and entertain us. For those of you who don't know, I must be Elvis's biggest fan under the age of 50 and whilst I momentarily wondered what this old guy whom I vaguely recognised was doing at my wedding reception, I think that it quickly became evident that they'd all managed to keep the surprise because when I realised, I almost died on the spot.

He got us all up dancing with the old favourites and then when it came to singing the requisite 'wedding song', it transpired that he didn't know the words and tried to dum de dum it from a songsheet. I'm sure that nobody would argue that this is acceptable so in a moment of impulse I took the microphone and proceeded to serenade my lovely new husband. Now, I would never claim to be any sort of singer and I'm not likely to be offerred a gig in Vegas any time soon but it was a fun moment in what was a really fun night.

The night moved on and we ate and drank and danced and laughed til the small hours of the morning. We have a million lovely memories of our time in Malaysia and this night and what it symbolised must surely be up there with the best of them.

Not Very Green

Moving a whole family and their lives from one country to another is not very eco friendly. The packers arrived this morning with bales of paper, giant rolls of bubble wrap and enough cardboard boxing to wrap the QE2. They proceeded to swarm upon us like ants. The girls and I have been battling for a week over what can be kept and shipped, what can be donated to charity and what can be thrown away. Tiny components of long forgotten games have been declared as favourites. Jigsaws with missing pieces have been wept over. Hair bobbles that have lost their elasticity can’t be lived without and it goes on. I keep finding items recovered from the rubbish bin covered in fluff and stuffed at the back of underwear drawers and in treasure boxes. Any lessons learnt about those who have and those who have not have been forgotten in the drama and talk of donating to the poor is met with incredulity because “we gave them that Barbie at the Christmas fair!”…..

Nevertheless, we have come to a situation where most of our possessions lie forlorn in cardboard boxes ready to be shipped to Dubai. It’s an incredibly sad sight to see our home decimated albeit temporarily. My head knows that we will see it all again but my heart hurts at this tangible evidence of our departure in two days time. It gives me a sense of what the girls must be feeling to see their possessions both weeded out and boxed away. Looking on the bright side, in three days time the girls and I will be landing in England, safe in the security of our extended families. In five weeks time, we’ll be flying to Dubai, all four of us as a family at last. Our possessions will be waiting for us and the next chapter can begin…..

Mr & Mrs Wilson Part 1

It's finally done! Under a canopy of organza of indeterminate age and colour, our vows were exchanged and we are now Mr and Mrs Wilson not only in our hearts but legally in the eyes of the world. The ceremony was witnessed by just 2 of our closest friends, Nigel and Susie, but this was enough to make it legal and binding. A touch of hysterics ensued when I misheard the registrar ask if we would raise our hands and "beat each other until the last drop of blood"! What he actually said was "be together until the last drop of blood", but we could be forgiven for the misunderstanding given his Malaysian accent and the surreal nature of the whole event.

The vows were exchanged, the rings placed on the fingers, the register signed and witnessed and we were married! The whole thing took 10 minutes or so and the sense of anticlimax felt by many couples after their wedding ceremony didn't exactly affect us since we were hard pressed to find a climax. A couple of glasses of very nice champagne (thank you Nigel...) in a nearby hotel did much to assuage any nerves that may have lingered and set the scene nicely for our party in the evening. Stay tuned for Mr & Mrs Part 2.....

Mermaids and Pirates

Rosie had her birthday party this afternoon. Our (?) shared dream of a party at home for all 22 of her classmates plus some of her other special friends was sadly beyond our space constraints and my tolerance threshold this week. The rules of the shared function room in our condominium inexplicably forbid music and food so it seemed a bit of a stretch to imagine that a fun time was to be had down there. So, we resorted to a generic party at our local soft play, Kidzone. Rosie was secretly very pleased with this option because a number of her friends had enjoyed a party there over the last year and the chicken's bum nuggets are always consumed with gusto. My extensive research into what can be played at a 5 year old's mermaid party was all in vain. No pin the tail on the mermaid; no treasure hunt for our 'pirates' to enjoy and no party bags filled with sand and real goldfish party favours. I'm sure that lots of other mums are nevertheless grateful for that small mercy. Regardless that the event proved to be soulless from the perspective of a 35 year old, the 5 year olds had a blast. The majority came in costume, ran riot for an hour then filled their faces with rubbish. The boys completely disregarded Rosie's 'NO FIGHTING BOYS' rule and had fine fun brandishing their pirate swords. None of our mermaids tripped over their tails and Rosie came home with a bagful of beautiful gifts. She's already planning next year's bash......

Not Again Emily!

I had a phone call from Emily's nursery this morning. It's never good news, and it was with trepidation that I answered it, dreading what I was about to hear. "Emily has broken her glasses". Happy that no blood, bones or teeth were involved, it was with resignation that we took another trip to the opticians to see if they could be fixed. 3 year olds and glasses are just not compatible and whilst she's really cooperative when it comes to wearing them (she appreciates the clarity given that she's blind as a bat without them), it's very hard for her understand that they must be handled with care. The glasses were judged to be unfixable this time and I'm coming to realise that if we get 2 months from a pair then we're doing ok.

I hardly recognise Emily without her glasses now and the squint that originally indicated that she had a problem is more pronounced when she takes them off . We were warned of this by the doctor who said that as her eyes relax with the help of her glasses, the muscles would get lazier making the turning more obvious. This is a small price to pay since her near vision is now stabilised and it's been determined that her far vision is perfect, and so now her view of the world must surely be more pleasing. She happily wears her glasses all day long. They come off only for bathtime and when she's in the swimming pool. Whilst hiding her beautiful eyes behind glasses seemed initially to be beyond unfair, her adjustment to it has been a lesson to us. Now all we have to do is stop her bending them, sitting on them, scratching them, drawing on them with felt tip pen (yes, really!) and letting her friends try them on and we'll be happy. Let's hope her 2nd pair last a bit longer than her 1st.....

Friends

They say that in the expat world your friends become your surrogate families and this week has proven that hypothesis to be true. Our friends have rallied round and taken up the slack. We've had a very gracious offer to host a party to celebrate our wedding, and my friends have collectively offered to organise most of the rest of it. I suppose that Andy and I's refusal to acknowledge our nuptuals as anything other than necessary may have prompted them to take some action and it's nice to be swept along in a tide of something other than panic and sadness at our impending departure.

I can't count the number of offers of general help that I've received in the last few months. I like to think that I'm a coper (or perhaps more of an ostrich) and whilst the pressures of everything are not major (no health crises or financial disasters), compounded as they are, they are certainly challenging. The smallest support, moral or otherwise, is much appreciated when it feels like you're falling off the edge of the earth without mum to call on and be salved with endless cups of tea and an ever listening ear.

Fairweather friends aside, of which many in this life necessarily are, our sadness at leaving behind the wonderful group of people we call our friends is justified. It's bittersweet because having so many people in our lives who care enough to make a difference is a blessing yet it makes it all the more difficult to say goodbye. Hopefully our house in Dubai will be busy and full with passers through in the years to come.

Every Cloud....

It's been a tough week. There's been several 'wake up sweating in the middle of the night' moments as it's dawning on me just how much we have left to do in the short space of time that we have left in Kuala Lumpur. Anybody who knows our family also knows that we are 'last minute' kinda guys. We are surpassing ourselves this time though on a number of issues. Andy is taking the redeye from Dubai to land at 6.00 am on the morning of our wedding and I'm trying not to dwell on the implications of a delay. I've not yet booked the movers to come and pack our life up and as it's now less than 2 weeks before we leave in what happens to be the busiest relocation month of the year, this shouldn't be considered my finest planning moment. Neither of our properties here are rented out yet, although to give me some credit this is not through lack of effort on my part, it's simply the way the market seems to be at the moment. The other minutiae of packing up a life in order to start another one on a different continent is starting to overwhelm me and alongside looking after the girls and trying to maintain some family equilibrium in the midst of the chaos, this week has been trying.

On the upside, all this movement is indicative that this is the final leg of being apart and once our holiday in England is over, we will be living together again as a family. Whilst we're not looking forward to saying goodbye to our life here, we are very much looking forward to the next chapter in this adventure that is our life.

Run Rosie, Run.....

Rosie had her Sports Day at school this week. In blazing KL sunshine, 100ish 4 and 5 year old children took part in sack races, bean bag balancing, parachute lifting and a host of other activities designed to promote a love of movement and physical activity. No longer does the fastest, strongest or most coordinated get rewarded with medals and labelled as a winner; nowadays the emphasis is on inclusion and participation. That's not to say there weren't a few parents on the touchline shouting encouragement and advice that would have been more appropriate at the Olympic Trials than at what was many of these children's first exposure to 'competition'.

Rosie did a great job although she looked horribly exposed for the first 2 or 3 events until her confidence grew to a point where she forgot about the crowds and started to enjoy herself.

On the way home from school she said very casually out of the blue "I'm a big girl now, can I have a mobile phone?"!!!! How could our 4 year old have been jumping in a sack that came up to her nose in the morning and then that very same day be requesting very seriously a phone of her own? What next? A GPS for her trike?