InterNOT

Still no Internet at home so I'm at the world's most child friendly Internet cafe, sans child. Although since the kids outnumber the adults and the general din is closer to a kindergarten than a cafe, I tend to think if I didn't have a kid I would hate this place. And that would be a shame because it's my only source of wifi.

We arrived back in Amsterdam on Tuesday. Mairtin and I flew alone, without Peter, which went surprisingly well, thanks in part to the hour plus nap he had on the way to the airport, my mother joining us for check-in and Peter picking us up at the airport. Kind of back to business as usual except the jet leg gave me insomnia for three days, which was a first.

Not so 'dam after all

So, we arrived in Amsterdam on July 25th and on August 11th returned to the States for vacation.  This was pre-arranged months ago, before we had even decided on our move and was in no way a reaction to our experience abroad.

Grandma and Papa at Heritage Museum and Gardens

Our flight to Amsterdam, the last of our business class trips for a while, was a bit of a disaster.  Peter and I were so busy with last minute scrubbing that poor M was neglected and didn't get much exercise or a nap.  When we boarded at 5:30 he was obviously knackered, but would not go to sleep at 6, or 7 (6:45 is his usual non-nap bedtime) or 8.  Finally, at 8:30, he fell asleep, but first screamed at the top of his lungs.  Our usually mild-mannered child made a lot of enemies in the business class cabin.  I'm sure everyone in the business class cabin wanted us to personally reimburse their $5,000 airfare, but hey, my kid is exhausted and that's why there are earplugs in the fancy amenities kit.  Next time, though, I'm just going to let him stay up and eat and let him catch up on sleep upon arrival.  The battle isn't worth it for anyone.


Within a couple of days M had adjusted to Amsterdam time and really didn't seem bothered by the 10 p.m. sunsets.  It was strange, difficult,  to be a stay-at-home mom, especially in an unfamiliar place.  Every day I tried to have an adventure with M, give him some quiet time, and also provide an opportunity to interact with other children.  He also watches one hell of a lot of TV.  All of these things are necessitated by my utter exhaustion and the fact that our belongings are delayed.  But, it's true what they say:  a kid with no toys will get really creative.  I was thrilled to see the Octonauts action figures sleeping on the TV remotes in a make-shift medical center and every day M is excited to get another new yogurt container to play with.  But, alas, my kingdom for some Legos.

L and M Like to Tell Everyone They are Twins!

So, here we are on Cape Cod.  Peter was here for a few days, and my niece L was here for a week to go to camp with M.  The two kids together are a handful but everyone was sad to see her go home.  Alas, now M only has one playmate, Papa.  But we managed to have lots of fun, including visiting Heritage Museum and Gardens and having dinner at Grandma and Papa's club.

These Lego's are from 1976--And Going Strong!!

Arrival!

We've arrived but no internet yet.  Please watch this space.

Re-pack

This morning Peter bought new, sturdy boxes and tonight we repacked everything in the space of about 2 hours.  It's way more organized and way more secure.  Perhaps the substandard boxes and feckless Fed-Ex man were actually a blessing in disguise?  I think we'll probably think so when we unpack next week.

Apost--what??

We've had a million things to do to get ready for this move.  Most of them are pretty trivial, buying a pair of shoes, packing, taking M to the doctor, saying goodbye to friends.  Today I took care of one of the more serious errands:  obtaining apostille seals on all of our documents issued by the state of New York.

Never heard of it? You aren't alone.  I mentioned it to my sister, the former lawyer and foreign law expert, and she had only a vague recollection of what it is.  So, here is your civics lesson for the day:  it's a certification of documents for international use.  Sort of like an international notarization.

All in all it was a pretty easy thing to do.  I  ordered a long form birth certificate of M's online and had a copy of our marriage certificate.  I looked up the procedure online and new that the secretary of state (for New York, not Hillary Clinton) has an office downtown.  So, I happily turned up and learned that I had the wrong type of marriage certificate and needed to get both docs notarized first.  OK, I was undeterred, despite the 95 degree heat and oppressive humidity, and having neither a map nor more than a passing understanding about the geography of downtown.  But, I had checked google maps (suspecting that the marriage certain might not be the right type) and asked a friendly cop.  Thankfully, Mairtin was having fun at camp, since it would have been the dreaded combination of hot, boring and a long walk, all coming dangerously close to nap time.

Marriage bureau, check! City clerk, check!  At first I was looking at it as a scavenger hunt, then I had an elaborate fantasy about being on The Amazing Race.  Sure, I knew I could make it back to the secretary of state's office faster than those two overweight middle aged women, but could I beat that blonde guy?  Turns out, him not knowing he was on The Amazing Race worked in my favor, and I was out the door at 11:30, ahead of him.  How much ahead I didn't stick around to find out.

Peter's day didn't meet with as much success.  Our move fell apart--literally--the boxes disintegrated between our apartment and the truck, so tomorrow we'll be buying more appropriate boxes and repacking for a pick up re-do on Saturday.

It all started almost two decades ago.  I took a job in Dominica and got a taste for the international lifestyle and learned to drive on the left.  Then I met an Irishman.  We married 3 days after he emigrated to the US and were really happy in New York, raising a preschooler in our newly-purchased co-op.  Then one day he came home with a huge adventure:  Moving to Amsterdam.

We considered and thought and discussed.  Then we decided:  when life presents this type of opportunity you don't say no.  No matter how scary or personally inconvenient it may be, you don't say no.

So, here I sit, in our apartment which we've owned for just over a year, among several gigantic boxes, starting a blog to chronicle what's to begin in 3 days.  Our move to Amsterdam.