Life: Idiotropic

Warning: This blog post contains a bit of whining and a pity party. After 8 months, I need to vent. Don’t worry. This will not become the norm.


That was typed this morning. Things are calm and happy now. But this is how the last 8 months have been since we found out we were coming here. It has been almost a daily flip from a plan to no plan. To having support and a place to having everything fall out from under us. Schools, cities, houses, money, support, even orders and if we’d actually go... every issue in flux and still, still after arriving, the flux continues. We still don’t have a housing rate established and won’t for a while. Going off faith in the face of “it’s not my job” and “I don’t know” and a lot of “you need to talk to so and so” who tells you “you need to call so and so.” This has been my life and while for the last 8 months I’ve prided myself almost on being mostly calm and positive about this all, there are moments when I just lose it. That was this morning.

After A LOT of research, talking to people, reading, and discussing what city we’d live in, and why. After A LOT of talk about schools, contacting them and looking at printed information, and discussing what was best for our kids. After A LOT of arguing, making a decision, then going back over all of the information with people to re-justify our choices over and over again. After all of this AND a trip to Valencia, we made a choice that we were going to stick with. A choice that made me feel secure when nothing else was. We had a house. So at the end of all the changes and flux, I had a nice house with a nice landlord in an area that felt safe.

Then this morning we went to the NSE - our tiny support unit here. Kirk signed in. I talked to one of the ladies there who kindly offered to call ASV, the American school, suggesting that sometimes she gets a better response. She called them, then came back with the answer - that not only do the little girls not have slots there, but that Tiara, who had a slot just two days ago when I went there in person, no longer had a slot either because somehow in that last less than 48 hours they realized that one of their 9th grade students didn’t pass and now needs that 9th grade slot again. Did they call? Nope. Were they going to give me that courtesy? Doubtful.

So I felt like I’d been hit over the head. We are living in Valencia BECAUSE of Tiara - because she’s starting high school and will be going to college in 4 years and we want her education to be good, her credits easily transferable. We don’t want to push her into a Spanish immersion experience for these critical years.

But I was coping just fine knowing that they all had slots at Cambridge house, a fine school, but with no bus service to our area, until one of the men there pulled the carpet from under me. “You don’t have a contract signed for the house... you could look for another house, one closer to Cambridge house.” And Kirk seemed to agree. I felt like I’d been punched really hard in the stomach, the wind knocked out of me. There may be better houses elsewhere but I like my house and the area and I had a verbal agreement with some really amazing landlords. I didn’t want to break that. I didn’t want to start over. I rounded the corner and stood alone. The guys kept wanting to talk about it. I just couldn’t talk any more. Needed time to process. Got my pass photo taken. I didn’t smile and didn’t care. I look like a felon.

Then we got home. I had quiet. I had time to think. I’d agreed to see more houses closer to the school, but I also had time to look at a map. Cambridge house is between my new house and the place I’m in now. It’s 20 minutes from where I am to my new house, so how can this school be farther? Looked at it on mapquest. 15-20 minutes, not 30. Let’s rethink this.

We had dinner plans at our new house tonight and a plan to meet the landlords there as well, Manuel and Begonia. One moment we think of canceling. Then we think we’ll go, but need to be upfront - may be we won’t be taking their house. That kills me to think about. And then I say wait. This isn’t just a house. It’s nice landlords and a secure neighborhood. It’s a safe place when Kirk is gone all week.

We got to our new house, a deep breath of relief for now, hoping this was really it. The girls ran off to play with Francesca, the youngest daughter of the current residents. Tiara and Faye went to the club to swim a bit. Joung Mai cooked an amazing Korean dinner while I talked at length with Begonia, toured the house again, sketched tacky drawings on sticky notes so I can think about furniture placement, and looked at the state of the curtains in each room. Kirk visited with Manuel and Paul. When dinner was ready about an hour later, Manuel and Begonia left and we enjoyed a fabulously relaxing evening with the currents residents of our house.

And when we left, Kirk said what I so needed to hear. “We have to take that house.” Thank you. Relief. At least one thing is certain. We may pay more for it that we’ll get. I may have to drive a bit. But it’s one thing done. One less thing to worry about. And at this point, I really need that.