Our move went surprisingly well. It was kind of momentous for us - Chris and I had been in Kingston for 11 years (me) and 9 years (him) - more than 1/3 of our lives, our entire adult lives. We didn't actually know how to be grown-ups anywhere else. For a while I worried that we might stop paying our bills, doing our laundry, and all that grownup stuff once we were taken out of familiar territory.
On our lastday, one of our neighbours stopped by and said it was strange to see us go, since they'd kind of "watched it all begin" for us at our house: our wedding, the birth of our two children, Chris becoming a doctor... I hadn't realized just how many milestones we'd passed Kingston.
Although the days leading up to the move were hectic, the move itself went well. It was fairly peaceful, actually. We hired a babysitter, so although Daniel was unhappy, he was not as difficult as we thought he would be. We had also decided to have the same attitude as we did on our wedding day: "This is one of the most stressful events you can go through - so don't stress out over it." Whatever went wrong, we just shrugged andaccepted it. C'est la vie.
As we watched the movers, Daniel wanted to know why we were a bit sad. Chris explained that it was hard to leave our house because we had put a lot of work and time and love into it.
"Now we're taking the love away," said Daniel.
Chris also explained that it wasn't just a house, it was our home. Daniel wanted to know what was the difference. Chris said that a house is just bricks, it's just a building, but a home is where you live and where your family is and a place you fill with love. And our house was a home.
"And now it's just a house," said Daniel.
It was somewhat sobering to see all of our worldly possessions reduced to boxes in a truck. As Chris and I stood on the porch with the kids, watching the last of our stuff go in and realizing that all we owned didn't even fill a truck, I commented, "Wow. That's our whole life in there." Chris replied, nodding at the kids, "No, that's our stuff. This is our life, right here."
Then we went to a hotel with a pool for the night. We took Daniel to the pool and I discovered he was not, after all, a child of mine. Whereas I, as a child,had to be physically thrown into a pool, Daniel approached the water with glee. He was a little nervous at first, but we held him and showed him that it was safe and stayed with him while he got used to it, and he really loved it. Before I was ready to let him go, he was telling me to get out of the pool and watch him swim - with the little waterwings, of course, but still. It was pretty impressive.
The next day we cleaned our empty house, then walked through it with the kids and said goodbye to each room.
Goodbye, kitchen that we retiled.
Goodbye, washroom where Daniel learned to use the potty.
Goodbye, basement where we went exploring with Daniel in the dark and found sharks.
Goodbye, living room that we made pretty with a new floor and where we had our Thanksgiving dinners and Dish-and-a-Wish parties for the kids.
Goodbye, back yard with Chris' garden and the sandbox.
Goodbye, bedroom where Justin was born.
Goodbye, study where Daniel learned to use the computer better than he should have.
Goodbye, attic that nearly killed Daddy.
Goodbye, Daniel's bedroom that was our first home improvement project, where we took outthe smelly carpet because Luli said the baby couldn't sleep in a smelly room and bought us a new carpet and where we repainted the walls blue and yellow with a border of baby animals so the baby would find it pretty and Grandma Judy made a valence to match...
Then we left the city, taking a drive through to say goodbye.
Goodbye, Todd and Susan and Turtle's house.
Goodbye, parks.
Goodbye, John Orr Tower where I lived for a couple of years.
Goodbye, Jean Royce Hall where I had the worst job I've ever had.
Goodbye, prisons.
Goodbye, Queen's, which gave us two degrees each.
Goodbye, Daniel's day care, Big House and Little House.
Goodbye, waterfront where I used to take long walks with Mark in first year.
Goodbye, Queen's residences where we all lived.
Goodbye, Boyd's filthyhouse on Beverley St.
Goodbye, Chris' house on Brock with the black bedroom.
Goodbye, gazebo where we got married.
Goodbye, student ghetto.
Goodbye, downtown Kingston.
Goodbye, midwives.
Goodbye, apartment on Colborne where Nick lived among the halfway houses.
Goodbye, apartment on Adelaide street that was our first home together.
Goodbye, streets we used to walk through looking at houses as a couple, wondering what our first home would look like.
Goodbye, high schools where I did my teaching placements.
Goodbye, strange Kingston people.
Goodbye, McDonald's Playland where Daniel used to play early in the morning with one parent so the other parent could sleep in on the weekend.
and as we drove out to the 401: goodbye, Kingston!
We drove fora day, stayed in another hotel, then moved into our house in London. Once again, we had someone (Kieron's mom Mary) look after Daniel to keep us all from going insane. Hail sanity, hail Mary (hey - I wrote that before I realized what it looked like. Sorry, Catholics, I didn't mean to be irreverent - her name really is Mary).
Then Chris started his residency with a bang, not a whimper - on call the first day. Welcome to London!!
Our house slowly came out of boxes. Unfortunately, we had to keep the living room (where we do 90% of our living) in boxes for a long time, since the rental place was supposed to replace our carpet, so even though I knew intellectually that I had made real progress settling, my main impression of our new home was Boxes, boxes everywhere.
We found out that our neighbourhood is very much 'Newly Wed or Nearly Dead'. Our subdivision is married housing for Western students, but the building complexes that surround it are retirement homes. So the closest mall has an odd fixture of clientele: half strollers, half walkers.
The other thing about London is that although there are a lot of people around in our subdivision, and a lot of stuff to do with kids... everything was closed over the summer and most people were away. So we'd meet people in the park, start chatting, then find out they were leaving tomorrow for Florida. Or that they had just finished their degree and were moving to BC. Or I'd call the local library and find most of their hours restricted for the summer. The city's "Childcare central" being renovated for the summer. It got kind of humorous, in a dark and depressing way. OK, I'd think, what door shall slam in our faces today?
It was also a little hard for Daniel. Although he wasn't into playing with other kids so much (they often hit and take his toys) he is a very social little person and very much loved going to see other people in Kingston. It got a little depressing hearing him start off the day with "Who shall we visit today?" and have to answer cheerfully (for the 20th day in a row) "Well, buddy, today it's just you and me and Justin."
One thing we did find out: toy guns are not all bad. We met somebody because of guns. Daniel, who is into guns, found an old "water squirter" that Chris and I had bought years ago to train Jehovah (our cat). Thrills thrills thrills. He knows we don't like guns, but here's a gun IN HIS OWN HOME. He asks Chris"Is this a GUN??" and finds out it's OK to have a toy gun that squirts water. (This is called quick thinking by parents to cover their butts to avoid looking inconsistent). Then, a day later, he's wandering around in back and finds another kids' house with a HUGE water CANNON (I think they're called SuperSoakers or something).
THRILLSTHRILLS THRILLS.
So he asked if he could see their gun. Use the gun. Play with the gun. The mom in question was happy to show him how to shoot it, and he was quite happy to experiment until he fell into their little wading pool while trying to fill up the gun. Oops. Great way to meet the new family; have your kid take a fully-clothed swim in their pool.
Other than our neighbourhood, we've been getting to know London. One thing about London that we couldn't help but notice... I have never seen such a proliferation of "adult" stores in my life. With the possible exception of Pat Pong Street in Bangkok, which was written up in National Geographic and which my father described as having "more brothels per square centimeter than anywhere else in the world", I've never seen so many storefronts with the words "wild" "sexy" "adult" "XXX" and "hot". Of course, after seeing so many of these stores, you start hallucinating. You see a storefront and think "Good Lord, another porn store. 'Wet, hot and wild'... oh. That's 'Bill's Exotic Tropical Aquariums'. Never mind."
Justin the Little Tomato (long story, don't ask) has started solid foods. Once again, I'm reminded that the most common typo for "solid" is "soild" and there is a good reason for that. Nuff said. He also has two more teeth, bringing the grand total to 4. He's babbling and sitting up (mostly) without toppling and eating paper a lot, which is more impressive behaviour for a 7-month old than for an adult, I guess. He's mostly a really happy little baby, and still looks just like Daniel. Like a photocopy of Daniel, if you painted the eyes blue, gave him dimples, and enlarged it to 150%.
As for Daniel the Dancing Cucumber (don't ask) he's going to 'Little Kids Can Too' summer camp. Something about that just brings tears to my eyes - my baby, going to camp. Never mind that he used to go to day care all day every day for months on end, and camp is just mornings for two weeks. It still makes me feel like his high school graduation is just around the corner. They grow so fast (sniffle).
Chris did a rotation in psychiatry, then emergency, and next he'll be doing psychiatry again. Every month a new medical flavour. He's getting tired of patients asking him "Are you old enough to be a doctor?", so I've come up with several comebacks for him:
"I'm thirty-seven. I'm not old."
"Look, I may only be sixteen, but I've been practising for a while."
"Oh darn - is my beard falling off again?"
However, one of his own comebacks, delivered in his perfect deadpan style, was better. At the emergency room one patient asked, "How long have you been a doctor anyway?"
"Six weeks."
"WHAT???!!!"
"You asked."
I must say residency is a heck of a lot better than clerkship - from my point of view, anyway. At least he has a contract now, and legally can't be forced to do a lot of what he did last year. It's a really good contract too. No more than 1 night in 4 of in-hospital call, or 1 in 3 of "home" call (where they are allowed to go home if there are no patients, even though they're usually too busy to do so). It used to be 1/3 and 1/2, respectively. And they're guaranteed one weekend off per month, and cannot legally be forced to work more than 28 hours in a row. All of this is new as of this year, and all the residents are quite delighted. Of course, many of them stay past 28 hours, do more than 1/3 call, and work every weekend anyway - but at least now they can complain to their representatives if their supervisor is forcing them to do so.
And, of course, there is the added bonus that now he gets paid to do the same work he was paying to do last year. That's always a plus.
To celebrate the advent of a new breadwinner in our home, we leaped into consumerism and went electronic. We got this new computer, which was nice - the coal bills to keep the old one running were getting too high. This new one gets us from webpage to webpage in less than an hour. We also got a cell phone and a beeper, to be able to reach each other during the day even though we hardly ever see each other. And a new stereo, so we can make out the lyrics to our music. This is all heady stuff for people who didn't make a single "new" purchase in about 10 years. It'll be even headier when we try to figure out how to pay for all of this and pay off Chris' student loans :)
We're also going to have to figure out how much a second car would cost. Biker Doc isn't doing so well - the bike has broken down and been in the shop 3 times so far, and has become not so much a 'time-saver' as a 'time-sucker'. As a hobby it's rather nice. As a reliable mode of transportation it leaves much to be desired.
So yeah. That's life in London. It's been an eventful few months.
By the way... to everyone who sent "acknowledge" e-mail and said they hadm issed my updates... thanks. I often write these in bits and pieces to pass the time while I hurry up and wait (to upload or download large files, or to sleep at night when I have insomnia) and hope I give someone a chuckle once in a while and keep in touch with friends and family. I was touched that many of you seemed to enjoy reading them too ;)
However. I may not be writing much in the foreseeable future. Logistics aside (i.e., I'm no longer downloading files for work), um... I often vent about small frustrations in my e-mail, but leave the heavy stuff out in an attempt to not bum anybody out. That got harder to do in the last year, which some of you know was not the easiest we've ever gone through. So far this year has not been as bad, but only in the way that, oh, root canal without anesthetic would probably be "not as bad" as an amputation without anesthetic :)
So I finished and sent off the e-mail that I started while our e-mail was buggy, and now I think I'll lay off on updates for a while. They probably wouldn't be terribly amusing or lighthearted, and nobody needs a huge downer filling their INBOX on a Monday morning when they come into work. So in the future, if you haven't received anything in a while and wonder how we're doing, write me. I'll write back - I'm not going underground, just not broadcasting for a while :)
--
Jimena
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"But now", says the Once-ler, "Now that you're here,
The word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear.
UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot
Nothing is going to get better. It's not."
- The Lorax, Dr. Seuss
The NewlyHome(page)less Jimena Bordes and Chris Rae