Twinge

A short vacation from our vacation – I’ll post one more about Greece and then leave the islands to daydreams and photo albums, but right now, a jump to present time.

We are in Greenville, SC. After a much too short two years in France my husband was offered an excellent opportunity here, and so it came about that we’ve returned to the United States. If it seems sudden, it is because it was. We fully expected to spend three to five years in Clermont-Ferrand; it seems like only yesterday we finally found an apartment, made friends, started calling France home.

The last thing unpacked in our CF apartment - the big orange couch

These past weeks have been full of unexpected twinges for me. I am calling these momentary rushes of feeling twinges because I’m not willing to call them regrets or misgiving, and I’m unsure what else to call them. Most of them seem brought on by our departure from France. Lauris asks for Ba-Ba (his name for Beatrice), Maël or Stephan daily, and begs to go to the choo-choo park (the childrens’ playground in Jardin Lecoq). <Twinge> We have met some new friends, but admittedly these things take time. And in the meantime, that ache returns when I realize that fluent French for the boys will be much harder to achieve, that instead of speaking three languages Lauris is really only speaking one (Latvian). Or that all my best friends in Clermont are currently taking their three week August vacations.

Saying our goodbyes to Beatrice and Emma

The Olympics have brought with them some twinge-worthy moments also. A few days ago the UK had their most “golden” day in over a century… and all I wanted was to take my friend Emma out to lunch to celebrate. As I write this I hope she is not too homesick for missing all these big events and instead relaxing and enjoying the sun, beach and babysitting on her vacation in the Cote d’Azur. <Twinge> And although that is linked to our departure from France, some of the Olympic twinges are far more deep-seated, brought on by things like playing basketball for the Lions back in Chicago. Only a high school career, yes, but watching the women represent their countries I wonder where my 6 feet 3 inches would have gotten me with more work (not deluding myself, more work than I could have managed while maintaining any acceptable academic level). To stay in shape for basketball I swam off-season, and my backstroke was enough to win the city-wide 200m in Chicago my senior year, so a new flood of feelings along with the swimming highlights each evening. Which leads me to realize that at least I’ve done some swimming in the past ten years, I haven’t touched a basketball court in ages. <Twinge>

The boys' room, all packed up

The hot weather isn’t helping either. There was a time when although not completely immune (once a Yankee, always a Yankee) I was acclimated and didn’t have to hide inside from the heat. Droughts and high temperatures meant only increased danger of wildfire, and I was too busy putting in firelines and traveling the US on firefighting assignments to complain. The pang comes when the evening news comes on and I hear of more homes lost, of more acres burned. A month ago there was a wildfire at the Latvian Center Gaŗezers, possibly caused by 4^th of July fireworks, and luckily caught in time so no structures were burned, however I felt myself longing for those days of working summers in Michigan with a <twinge> that I could have been there for the one and only fire season in the history of Gaŗezers. That I could don my fire boots and do something, instead of just watch the nightly news.



These recollections are nothing new, I believe they are a normal part of the transition period. And it just happens I have a lot of transitions going on right now; from France to US, from expatriate femme au foyer to SAHM. From carefree and responsible only for myself, to mother of two. From firefighter and forestry technician to parks & recreation (and by that I mean going to parks & recreating there…). I could go on, but I’ve said it all before, and I’m sure the twinges aren’t done yet. So instead, I’m wondering what pangs my current life will bring in the future. Twinges at how quickly the boys have grown? Will there be a day when I will yearn for my days of blogging? Maybe a niggle when I see South Carolina mentioned on the news? A yearning to change more diapers?

Can't forget the cats!

The <twinge> has helped me to resolve one issue; I’ve decided to keep Femme au Foyer. It will no longer be a diary of our time in France, but it will continue to be a journal of our travels and adventures. The last two weeks spent in Greenville have reopened my eyes as to how beautiful a city it is, and I want to share. There might possibly be some mommy blogging, and most definitely some more posts in and on Latvia/being Latvian. I foresee often touching on our time in France as this expatriation has had a profound effect on my life, just as I predict the posts might be fewer and farther between. But whatever Femme au Foyer evolves into, I hope you elect to follow along for the next chapter.