Fading off into blogger oblivion over here. Isn’t a month of radio silence about the time people forget your address and stop popping in? Plenty of blogging topics have come and gone from my mind but for the most part I’m adhering to the old maxim, ” If you’ve got nothing nice to say then it’s best to keep it shut.” I am loathe to report that things haven’t necessarily turned around and I’m on the “falling head over heels with your host country” arc of the expat adjustment curve. My confidence and enthusiasm have been rocked. Still taking each day as it comes. Expectations remain low. My major epiphany this week was that despite the platitudes of insistence that tomorrow things will be better, sometimes that’s just not the case. In fact, tomorrow will probably be exactly like today or it could be worse, so buck up homegirl and press on. Try taking a shower and hope that helps. (Or kiss those sweetcheeks!)
The bushbaby continues to melt my heart daily. She is a sweet little stream of levity, beauty and entertainment. She delights me to my core and for that I am grateful. Crawling super fast directly to the stairs, standing up and walking along the edge of tables, the mastiff or whatever is an agreeable height. She got her first two teeth last week without much more fanfare than a disruptive sleeping schedule. She’s up every 3 hours, which unfortunately only adds to Snakes’ and my general malaise. Well-rested parents are patient and creative and kind; I am heavily caffeinated. Are there actually such things as well-rested parents?
We just booked a trip to Namibia. We’ll visit the ancient dunes in the south, Germanic villages along the coast and stay at a game park for a few nights. I can not wait to see the stars! I feel like it’s been years. I’ve said it before, but it is a necessary survival tactic to always be looking forward to something. I hope that this trip will provide the jolt that my joie de vivre craves. I need to plug myself into that vast serenity and be reminded that there are quiet places where your imagination can relax and stretch for an eternity.
It sounds undiplomatic, but I often feel like I am paying a penance. (Is this post-partem depression?) My mind is always searching for reasons why we ended up here. Why aren’t we spending weekends exploring, attending festivals and open air markets, discovering new foods, leafing through invitations from new friends or just simply enjoying our new little family dynamic? In reality, weekends consist of two daily walks up to the embassy to let the dogs and the bushbaby enjoy the grass. That’s basically it, week after week. I’m trying so hard to extract the take home message. The only thing I’ve come up with is that maybe it’s some karmic thing. After this I’ve promised to forgive myself for each and every thing that has happened throughout my life that I still beat myself up over. After this, I will forgive myself entirely.
Yeesh, such a heavy-hearted wet blanket! If you’ve managed to make it this far, thanks for hanging with me. After taking this little break from posting I’ve realized just how much I’ve missed this on-line community. It’s time for me to catch up with you all and get the hell out of my own head. Despite my lack of connections here at post, I’d be lost without the ones I’ve found here.