Who?

Who are they supposed to turn to? Who is supposed to guide them, direct them, comfort them, lead them? Who? Their grandparents? Their friends at school? Their teachers? Who? Who in the world is supposed to take care of my children’s emotional needs when Kobi and I are falling apart? Well, we are… and we’re not there for them.They’re fighting and falling over each other. They’re lost and have no lighthouse to shine their way.

Being a nomadic family has its very poignant disadvantages.

And why are we not there for them? Because, we’re exhausted. Yet again, we’re in a new town, a new home, a new land of strangers where we have to make ourselves belong (again), to redefine ourselves (again). And that’s a lot energy to exert (again). Imagine the amount of effort it would take if you were to change jobs every two months. As the new kid in town you would have an enormous amount of work to do: find meaningful work (or volunteerism), make a friend or two, define a new schedule, find out where everything you need is located, create time for yourself, and get some work done. 

We’re entering week two in our new home and still have not established enough stability to get around to fitting ourselves into our new life yet. Kobi and I are drained emotionally and can’t seem to find a minute for ourselves. We’ve been planning every day, for four days now, to go to the neighboring school to present ourselves as volunteers. Though we tell the kids each day that “today, we’re going to the school” ,twice we even had our shoes on to go, and once we were actually in the school yard waiting for the principal, it’s has yet to happen.

We want to create a normal routine and schedule, but the reverse died in the car and 2/3 of our kids had awful infected skin abrasions which were not getting better. A good deal of this week has been designed around taking the car to mechanics, and the kids to doctors. Getting around without the car means more effort on our part (again) to find buses and taxis and move from place to place, also in the rain. Sick kids means finding extra special patience to gently take care of their more-delicate selves, in addition to purchasing, and then remembering to administer the medications and the creams three times a day to the right kid at the right times.  

We want to exercise together in the mornings, but they need us at their side as they don’t feel safe being alone, yet. So today, we tried to take them with us, and ended up with three whining, complaining kids the entire time. And while yelling and screaming at them was temporarily gratifying, it did not make for a stress-relieving workout, nor a good morning. 

We plan to do formal studies with them three times a week. We’re working out of mathematics and Hebrew reading workbooks. Solai just started her very first English reading workbook! Last week, we even started making  marvelous ABC books. They actually love learning, and even when not in the mood, once they see that I’m serious, they get into the learning groove and progress beautifully. But for the last month it seems, each week there was something else going on that prevented us from learning on a regular basis. 

The details and excuses bore me. The bottom line is that this is not what I meant for my trip to be like. I know it’s not a vacation, but a way of life. I know that back home, we also had those times when we felt bogged down my so many blah things to take care of and felt totally stuck. I know that back home, also, there were those times when I felt I would scream if one more person asked me for one more thing; if one more kids complained or fought or dropped one more plate of food on the floor. I know, I know. And while it is comforting to know that I’ve been here before; it still feels awful. It hurts when you feel like you can’t control your time, your life. It hurts when you feel lost and can’t quite see how it is you are supposed to find your way out of it. It hurts when you are dying to have a few minutes to connect to yourself, and day after day, you can’t seem to get that very basic need met. 

So, who is supposed to take care of my kids’ needs? The same two people who are supposed to take care of their needs first. The same two people who are supposed to take care of the needs of this family. The same two people who are supposed to make clarity and routine in a world of constant motility and change. And those same folks, both of them, have a lot of things to talk about, to work through. And when they do, they will also be able to take care of those three magical children who are so patient with their parents’ whims and crazy dreams of volunteering around the world.  

As every dip in the road has shown, where's there's an up, there's a down. And so this down has led to marvelous discovery and a reclarification of what is important to us.

 

Posted in: Nomadic Parenting, Tough Times