It is a long book. I have about five more chapters to go. It is about a Third Culture Kid named Jim. He is a white boy who was adopted by a Crow (Native American) tribe. This book is about his quest to find out who he is and where he belongs.
My husband read it out loud to my children and my children loved it. Somehow, they were able to identify with Jim, the main character. They read several pages each night as part of our bedtime routine read-a-good-book-aloud tradition; so once they were all done, I decided to read it for myself. It has been difficult to put it down. I can also identify with Jim.
Time flies! We have been here a little over two years! You may think we are past the transition, but the two year mark has hit harder on me than the first year mark. I was on survival mode for the first year, searching for the basic necessities of life. Do we have a place to live? Check. Transportation? Check. Schools? Check. Church? Check. Grocery store? Bank? Check. Pediatrician? Check. Walmart? Target? Check. Friends? Hmmm…. A few. Continue reading
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I turned 40 this year! It doesn´t feel much different than thirty-nine. I do notice the following signs of aging: Continue reading
February flew by and March flashed before my eyes. I blinked and they were both gone. As you and your family adjust to a new schedule, a new way of accomplishing tasks, you will find yourself wondering where your time went.
When you move from a warm-climate culture into a cold-climate culture, you will realize that time is a very valuable and non-renewable resource. You will find more and more demands on your time that will force you to become much more scheduled and much less spontaneous. I did not want to fall into the busyness trap, rushed, anxious and tired. But all of a sudden, without realizing it, I became over-committed, disappointed and exhausted. How do I step back, re-evaluate and re-arrange my and my family’s schedule? How do I protect this valuable resource? Allow me to give you a few suggestions.
My daughter´s transition bridge filled a weeks after we returned to the US.
Happy New Year! I have to get in my January post! I thought that perhaps after a little over a year of living in the US, I would be completely adjusted. I’m not. My oldest daughter seems to be the most settled of us all. My younger two continue to express their desire to return to Honduras. And even though we have found out, more so, where we fit in our community, there are still things that perplex me about this place. Things that I find hard to understand, for example, beggars in my town. Continue reading
I thought I was registered; but when I checked where I was supposed to vote, my name was not found. I missed my chance to vote in one of the most controversial elections in my life time. I had plenty of reminders. Nevertheless, the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. Adjusting to so many new things -sights, sounds, places, people, schedules, responsibilities – all these, became priorities. And when the time came to vote, I missed my chance. Continue reading
This is my seventh year to home school and because we lived in rural Honduras, the decision to teach my kids from home was the most practical one we could make. The Honduran public school system was in chaos, with constant national teacher-union strikes that forced children to constantly miss school reducing the school year, some years, to less than 100 days. We also did not have an adequate private school option for our oldest daughter, who at that time was five years old. Our decision was reinforced by the fact that, all the other ex-pats families we worked with home-schooled their children. We also observed the the quality of the kids being educated at home. They displayed many characteristics we wanted to see in our own kids. The homeschoolers around us were polite, smart, talented and able to carry on an intelligent conversations with a varied age group of people. We assessed our family values and decided home school would be the best choice. It was not a difficult decision, so our home school journey began. Continue reading