Welcome to the December #TrailingSpouseStories blog crawl!
This December, we talk about the much anticipated and somehow dreaded, ultra sentimental Christmas holidays. How were the Christmas holidays outside your home country? How is it similar and different? What did you enjoy most spending Christmas abroad?
Find out how we spend our holidays and how it feels to spend it in different corners of the globe, so don't forget to read more stories of fellow trailing spouses at the end of this blogpost.
This was the year we were supposed
to have a snowy white Christmas. This was the year we were supposed to be away
from family for the first time in our lives. Well, maybe not the first time. At
least for one of us.
I wasn’t excited at the prospect
of freezing my body’s extremities or being huddled around a decorative
non-functioning electric fireplace or having to shovel snow off the car. And
most definitely not excited to be the one to dress the kids everyday in 3 to 4
layers of clothing every time we need to step out the door.
Every night I look at the clock and think I should be in bed right now sleeping. But of course I don't. There's something I'm refusing to let go of. I dunno. The dark. The silence. The void. The couch all to myself and whatever's left in the fridge. I dunno what it is. Some part of me.
I wrote a whole paragraph trying to figure it out and deleted all the nonsense. Only one sentence remained. And I couldn't stop my eyes. Because I knew it was true.
Welcome to the inaugural run of the #TrailingSpouseStories blog crawl hosted by Tala Ocampo and Didi of D for Delicious.
This November we talk about our First Voyage as trailing spouses and what we’ve brought with us, rather: what’s in your suitcase?
Please see the end of the post for other #TrailingSpouseStories.
When
we left the Philippines to start a new life in another country, we left many
things behind. Clothes were given away. Toys were given away. Furniture was
sold. Our car was sold. We said goodbye to Miyagi. Although I’m still
holding out hope he can join us here someday.
This
year has been and continues to be the strangest of my life. Everything changed.
I’m having to relearn how to do things I normally know how to do. Like driving
for instance. Imagine moving from a country where you had the most minimum, the
barest and not to mention the shadiest of laws to one where laws pretty much
dictate every move you make. Thank you Sting.
U-Turns,
for example, a very handy driving maneuver, especially when lost or you know,
just change your mind and decide to head in the opposite direction, it happens
you know, because people change their minds all the time... are against the
law. IN ANY SCENARIO. There will never be a time or place in this country when
making a U-Turn is acceptable.
Normally I'd just wank off, but what the hell, let's do something different.
Oh sire! You grace us with your presence!
(Your best english accent is required here. Disney english)
You ever been around your kids so much that you forget how to talk to adults? Or how to have an adult conversation? And I already suck at small talk, so my social skills is now at level beginner. I'd have better luck striking up a conversation with your child.
I always thought Peppa Pig was kind of a brat, but she gets away with it cuz she's a bit charming. For a pig. Your thoughts?
You know, there really should be a study about how stay-at-home dads (SAHD) are perceived in society. Like, what happens when I'm only one of two dads at a school function and the rest are moms? Are they judging me? Are they talking behind my back? Are they judging my wife for not being here? And the most important question of all, do they think they're better than me? Do other dads think they're better than me for going to work instead of staying home and taking care of the kids? Wouldn't you like to know?
It’s a popular line on my son’s favorite tv show, The FreshBeats Band. Watches it all the time so you can imagine, I’ve memorized all their
songs. And it’s driving me bananas. Cue music.
These past months have been frantic to say the least. I
haven’t had time to absorb what it means to uproot our lives and move to a new
country. I’ve just been treading water. Occasionally drowning and resuscitated
repeatedly by my wife, who is way better at handling change than I am.
And who I am is being rewritten every day that I am here. Almost
like becoming a whole new person. This is my problem right here. What happens
if I don’t like who I’m becoming?
I was perfectly fine with the person that I was. I knew him.
I liked him. He made me laugh. He had really good taste in music. But the me
now? I’m dancing and going bananas.
I was talking with my wife the other day, trying to explain
to her what exactly is going on with me. Because I’m going crazy. And not in
the fun way crazy can be. Crazy is coming out of me in ways that are hurtful
and mean. And some days, I really, really hate myself for doing these hurtful
and mean things. I tell myself, it’s not who I am. And yet. It’s coming out of
my mouth. Emotions exploding like a neutron bomb. Scaring everyone and scaring
myself most of all.
I told her, I’ve got a case of lizard brain where my grey
matter is operating on a reptilian level. Just surviving. Just moving from one
task to the next. Everyday, over and over again. The same lonely and brainless
tasks. Like Groundhog Day. Except less funny.
I’m getting pretty good at folding clothes. And I can do
some minimal cooking so we can stop going through Mcdonald’s Drive-Thru. And no
more microwave dinners. Vegetables have been reintroduced into our diet and I
no longer fear the oven. Or the stove-top. Or pretty much anything in the
kitchen. Fingers intact!
Being a mother is hard. Jesus Christ it’s hard. It’s made me
feel really, really stupid. You know how guys hate stopping the car to ask for
directions? We hate it. We super duper hate it. We’d rather drive lost for
another hour than stop the car and roll down the window. It hurts our pride. It
reveals us to be unsure of ourselves. It’s admitting we made a mistake. And
everyone in the car is counting on us to get us there. And we have no answers,
just a delusional internal compass that has finally gone kaput.
This is my everyday for the last 6 months. And my cup is
empty.
But maybe, the good thing with being completely empty, you
get to start from scratch.
Just mourning the life I once knew. You live with each other so long, you get used to them just being there. Took a lot of things for granted. Took everything for granted. Felt like I was sleepwalking and now just waking up. Break-ups do that. There's always a point after a break-up when you second guess your decision. Because you miss the other person or are suddenly reacquainted with the feeling of being alone. And it kinda terrifies you.
