Recovering

Posted on March 29, 2013 by Expat Bostonians

I ended up in the hospital again.  While my review of Mt. Elizabeth Novena does paint a fairly appealing hospital experience (as hospital experiences go), I wasn’t terribly thrilled to land back there eight days after being released.  I even ended up on the same ward (although in a different room).   Things went well for the first few days-I’d been religiously doing my PT and had even increased some of my PT exercises.  However, the side effects from one of my medications began to make life very unpleasant, and my orthopedic doctor took me off it.  This turned out to be a huge mistake, as 24 hours later I could barely walk and was in intense pain.  I was immediately re-hospitalized.

Screen Shot 2013-03-29 at 8.18.17 PMsource

The simplest explanation for what happened is that post tearing the disc (the purple bit between the bones in the picture above) I developed a lot of inflammation and swelling, which pushed on and irritated the nerve root.  In my case, this then resulted in intense pain down all the way down my legs, straight through to the toes.  Muscles in my legs would in turn spasm (if you were to put a hand on my leg just above my knee, you would’ve felt something jumping around, as if I had one of those aliens from the movie trying to burst through my skin).  My ability to walk was compromised to the point of needing a walker to get to the toilet.

We had to decide between trying injections of cortisol (a steroid) next to the nerve root and doing surgery (as the disc itself was bulging and pushing on the nerve–effectively the same surgery I had in 2006 on the disc below the one I tore).  Surgery is obviously a really major step, and I wanted to avoid the more challenging recovery if at all possible.  So we elected to go with the injections.  As I have a mild bleeding disorder, we had to bring in a hematologist and do some bloodwork to find out if I would need special medication to prevent bleeding in the spine.  So lots of delays, lots of painkillers to the point where I just couldn’t handle anything more challenging than the occasional facebook update.  I mostly watched a lot of video on my laptop and slept.

I finally got the injections on Tuesday, and turned out to be one of the 10% of so of special snowflakes who have a bad reaction to the injections.  Adding the fluid of the injection just pushed on my nerve more and sent my pain into orbit.  I had to be so heavily sedated that they put me on a bit of oxygen to ensure I was breathing adequately.

Luckily it was a short lived reaction and I woke up on Wednesday of this week feeling reasonably good.  (Reasonably good meaning there was constant dull pain, but not sharp pain.)  We were able to manage my pain using only oral medication and without additional doses/supplemental injections/etc.  I was allowed to come home yesterday.

At the moment I’m home, and I’m on a lot of medication still.  I’m only allowed to walk for 5 minutes at a time (followed by mandatory resting of at least 45 minutes).  I’m tired, but my sleep schedule is (unsuprisingly) very chaotic and messed up.  My in laws are taking good care of us, and when they leave my mom is going to come to help, so I have lots of support.

Right now I have about 75% odds of not needing surgery.  With diligent PT, not pushing myself too hard too fast (something that may have contributed to my relapse this time), and a bit of luck I’ll be able to rehabilitate the injury.  Once our support goes home (late May/early June) I’ll be putting Rhiannon into daycare for part of every day to allow me to continue my rehabilitation process.

Yes, we have considered hiring a maid.  It is an option I’m grateful (sort of) to have on the table, but one I am deeply conflicted about, and would prefer not to need.  Luckily it is a decision we don’t need to make for a few months, and a lot can change in a few months.

Posting is going to be a bit scattershot depending on how blur my medication is making me on a given day and my rehabilitation schedule.  Please bear with me.

Filed under: Acts of Supreme Clumsiness, headdesk moments, medical, Singapore | 10 Comments »

Mommy Wars, Singapore Style

Posted on January 31, 2013 by Expat Bostonians

Screen Shot 2013-01-29 at 11.40.49 PM

In the US, there has been long-standing tension between Stay at Home Moms and “Working” Moms (The airquotes are because that’s usually the first thing that gets tempers flaring–yes, ALL moms are working moms).  The book above, if you can get past the title, is actually a great collection of essays that gives voice to the push-me/pull-you of the choices we make about working versus staying at home as mothers in America (and the lack of choice at times, as well).

Although there are many parenting issues that cause a divide amongst parents-breast or bottle, crib or co-sleep, whether or not one sleep trains and how….the divide between moms at home and moms who work outside the home is perhaps the one I’ve always seen as least divisive.  While we sometimes feel that we can change a person’s mind about breastfeeding, for example, I’ve met very few women who try to convince others to stay home or go to work.

What I do see, all the time, from every mom (and this does seem to be a mom-thing–sorry for the stereotype, but I just don’t see this from dads in the same way)–is guilt over our choices, whatever they are.

If they don’t see me working outside the home, am I good female role model to my daughters?

I had to give my sick baby to the sitter and come into the office.

I’d kill to go to the office and get a lunch break.  Hell, I’d love to go to the bathroom by myself.

If I stayed home, I’d go insane.

If I have to play Candyland one more time, my brain is going to atrophy.

I want to the be one getting bored to death by Candy Land

For Americans, the tension between stay at home/work out of house moms is mostly focused on the baby years–0-4/5 or so.  (Or at least I’ve found…please do correct away parents of older kids…I only know the elementary/middle school years from the teacher’s side of the desk).

For those of us at home with younger children, I most commonly hear (and have said myself) that we’ll go back to work once our youngest is in school for the full day.  The choice to be home often has a lot to do with the absurdly high cost of daycare arrangements (as a teacher, it was almost a wash with one child and could possibly have cost our family money with two when compared with my post-tax income).

The visibility of the stay at home vs work out of the house mom tension drops dramatically once kids are in 4/5th grade.  We don’t really have “room parents” or “parent volunteers” in the older grades and I couldn’t really have told you with certainty whose parent was working vs stay at home by grade 6.

Last month’s Young Parent Magazine in Singapore took a new and uniquely Singaporean take on the Mommy Wars..

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YOUR CAREER vs. HIS GRADES (Do Stay-at-home mums raise more successful children?)

(I’m not even going to go near the “Keep sane on your maid’s weekly day off” article today.)

Looking at statistics, I’d argue that roughly the same percentage of parents work in Singapore versus the US.  We can compare this report from the Singaporean Government’s Ministry of Manpower the statistics in 2011 reflecting the percentage of women and men in the workforce were as follows below on the left in black, with the US stats in 2010 from the Bureau of Labor stats (source) are on the right in blue.

  • 9.8% of women 15-19  (14.6% men)—US 53.6% of women 16-24/ 56.8% of men
  • 62.5% of women 20-24 (63.2% men)
  • 86.7% of women 25-29 (91.8% men)—-US 75.2% of women 25-54/ 89.3% of men
  • 81% of women 30-34 (97.4% men)
  • 77.6% of women 35-39 (97.7% men)
  • 73.9% of women 40-44 (97.1% men)
  • 71.5% of women 45-49 (96% men)
  • 66.1% of women 50-54 (93.5% men)
  • 55.1% of women 55-59 (85.7% men)—-US 35.1% of women 55-64/46.4% of men
  • 38.4% of women 60-64 (71.1% men)
  • 23.9% of women 65-70 (49.1% men)—US 13.8% of women 65-75/ 22.1% of men
  • 6.6% of women over 70 (20.5% men)

In general, the discussions I hear in Singapore surround how moms need to work to help cover the heavy tuition centre expenses and such, not whether they can or should work (as that’s irrelevant).  Going back to work often means finding family childcare (my friend Kirsten lived with her grandparents during the week and her parents on the weekends, a friend who recently returned to work hired a live-in helper to help with childcare when her mom couldn’t watch the kids, and so forth), as there aren’t as many childcare options here.

The nature of this headline seemed particularly inflammatory and designed to batter moms emotionally.  Parents here worry about how their children will do in school because, far more so than in the US, it will impact the trajectory of their lives (what high school they’ll attend, fewer universities/more competition and so forth).

The pressure is particularly intense in year 6 of primary school, which is when they take the dread PSLE exam (which is what determines your academic trajectory)–so much so that I’ve read plenty of advice to start your Pri 4 or 5 student studying for it.  Naturally, then, this article used one factor to support the anecdotal evidence it put into play–the PSLE score of the child of the mother in question.  Factors like wealth and education level of the parent were mostly dismissed in favor of the binary of working/home and score result.

I’ve heard moms talking specifically about either not returning to work until after the PSLE or taking a break specifically during the PSLE years.

 

IMG_7541

The problem, of course, is that none of the articles written about staying at home versus working really address the moms.  They always focus on the kid’s successes or failures (in whatever arena you want to argue in–sports, academics, future dating rates, whatever).  They almost always fail to ask the following important questions

  • Is it even a choice?  For many families, the choice of working vs staying home is a moot question.  It is elitist to assume otherwise.
  • Assuming you can make the choice, is the mom happy with her choice most days? If you’re going to be miserable at home, or miserable at work, assuming you have a choice, don’t go with the one you’ll hate just because you feel you “should” make a choice in one direction or the other.  And none of us are happy with our choice 100% of the time–anyone who says otherwise is lying.
  • Are your kids doing okay?  As in, are they fed, clothed, reasonably happy, hitting developmental milestones little people with whom you have a reasonably healthy relationship?  Yes?  Then they’re fine.

 

Dear Parents of Singapore

I’m a veteran teacher.  Let me let you in a little secret–your staying home or not isn’t going to make or break your kid.  You can stay home and have a brilliant or a lazy kid.  You can work and have a brilliant or a lazy kid.  Your staying home in no way affects how your child will do on a standardized test.

Make the choice that’s right for your family.

And for the good of us all, let’s stop giving money to publications with articles like this, and more to publications with Ryan Gosling on their covers.  We’ll all be much happier.

Filed under: Culture Shock, Education, headdesk moments, money, Singapore, Uniquely Singapore, With Kids | 4 Comments »

What do they look like?

Posted on December 12, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

“What does she look like?”

The police officer meant my daughter’s race.  She looked up at me, exasperated by my lack of response to her question.  I hadn’t responded as I hadn’t been blindsided by this sort of casual racism in years.  I needed a minute to collect myself, to process what she had just asked me.

Let me back up.  Through an act of utter stupidity for which I bear all responsibility, someone had helped themselves to my purse in Las Vegas.  I’d set it down to watch the Dancing Fountains in front of The Bellagio Hotel.  Distracted after the show, I’d walked away from it, and had not realized I’d done so for 5+ minutes.  Naturally, when I went back, it was gone.  Inside the purse was my wallet (which had my Singaporean ID, the girl’s SG IDs, credit cards, and some cash) and Ravi’s and my passports.

IMG_6910Possibly my favorite thing in Vegas, but all in all, I’d prefer to have not been so mesmerized that I forgot my purse.

To make the process of passport and identification replacement smooth, I went down to the Las Vegas police station to file a report.  I had no expectation of ever seeing my wallet again, the credit cards were already canceled, and the passports reported missing with the appropriate authorities (and an appointment to get emergency passport replacement already made).  But I knew that dealing with red tape would go far smoother if I filed the report and could show it to the proper Passport Agency and Singaporean authorities.

The process of filing the report was routine, even boring, especially as I knew I was only doing so for paperwork purposes.  We reviewed the missing items.  As we were all “victims,” I had to provide each of our name, date of birth, height, hair color, eye color, weight, and race.  This was a fairly straightforward process for myself (white/caucasian), and Ravi (although I had to clarify I meant Indian as in India, and then explain that yes, Indians are Asian by US race classifications).  When it came to Elanor, I noted that she was biracial.

“That’s not a category,” the officer replied.

“Other?” I asked.  This was what we had marked Elanor on the 2010 US census, and our default when there is no option for biracial.  (In SG there is “Eurasian” which is accurate enough, but is not a category in the US).

Annoyed, the officer looked at me and asked “What does she look like?“

IMG_6866

Ellie, discovering the joy of a hotdog on a stick and adorably mussed

What does she look like?

  • Caucasians remark upon her gorgeous “natural tan.”
  • Indians praise her for being so “light.”
  • When she’s with me, people tend to assume she’s white.
  • When she’s with Ravi, people tend to assume she’s Indian.

She looks like Elanor

To say that Race is a problematic and complex issue in the US is an understatement.  I actually took an entire graduate level History class on the history of race in America.  The history of who got to be white and when and why is fascinating.

Respected Historian Eric Foner details in his essay

Although whiteness was not yet defined with any precision, most colonists thought they knew what it meant. Benjamin Franklin suggested in 1751 that since the number of “purely white people” in the world was “very small,” America ought to exclude “all Blacks and Tawneys,” among whom he included not only residents of Africa and Asia but also the “swarthy” peoples of Europe—“the Spaniards, Italians, French, Russians, and Swedes.” Franklin’s inclusion of Swedes among non-whites strikes us today as an original touch.

This notion of North America as the natural home of white people was refected in the Naturalization Act of 1790, one of the first laws passed after the ratifcation of the U. S. Constitution. In “Common Sense,” Tom Paine (misidentifed in Painter’s book as a Virginian, one of many small mistakes), called the new nation an “asylum” for all mankind. But the 1790 law limited citizenship for foreigners to “white” persons. Painter buries mention of the Act in a footnote related to late-nineteenth-century immigration policy. But it was a striking example of how, from the outset, the defnition of American nationhood contained a powerful and exclusionary racial component. After the Civil War, those of African descent were added to the list of persons eligible for naturalization. As the Ozowa and Thind cases of the 1920s showed, the exclusion of Asians lasted much longer.

But let’s talk about today.  Many would like you to think we live in some sort of post-race utopia because we elected Barack Obama.  However, as Obama-who is indentified as the “first Black President” and not the first biracial president-so eloquently displays, the “one-drop rule” is very much still in effect.  This article describes research that supports this–that when a person who is biracial is perceived as having only one race-the race of the minority parent is assigned to them.

“She’s Asian”

I thought about how others might see her-the biracial child of a white woman and an Asian man.  I thought about how Obama identifies as a black man instead of a biracial man.  I thought about identifying them as white.

I wondered how Elanor, who strongly identifies as Indian, would feel if I identified her as white (were she old enough to have an opinion-at which point she could make that choice herself).  I was torn, but even though she’s too young to really understand race, ethnicity, or the implications of race, I want to honor what I hoped Elanor would want me to say.

“She’s Asian,” I said.

Why make it a big deal?

It’s only a stupid piece of paper.  It’s a pointless police report.  What does it really matter in the long run?  Why get worked up over it?

I care because when Ellie was a baby, I was approached on two different occasions and asked “where did you get her?” as if she was a new pair of shoes.

I care because I don’t like the idea of either half of their heritage being denied.

I care because they may be excluded from belonging in either half of their heritage.  There was a controversy over Jacinta Lal, the blonde haired woman who won a Ms India pageant in NZ not “looking Indian” and people calling for her to be stripped of her title.

I care because one day they may consider buying the sort of skin whitening products I see on the shelf here all the time to fit the dominant white ideal of beauty.

I care because of every TSA agent who has given Ravi the “random” pat down because he’s brown with long hair and fits their idea of what a terrorist might look like.

I care because it’s not accidental that Ravi gives me the passports to hand over to passport control in the US–I’m the harmless norm (white) from which he deviates.

I care because I also had to explain that India is in Asia and Indian are Asian by the US race classification system because to most American Asian means a very narrow slice of Asia.

I care because of all the moments of casual racism like the one with the police officer, and I wish I could shield the girls from it, and know that I can’t.

Filed under: headdesk moments, Identity, Las Vegas, Nevada, North America, Travel by Continent, Country | 17 Comments »

Reverse Culture Shock

Posted on August 16, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

After driving on the left side of the road for the past seven or so months, I have had to focus and think hard about being on the right side of the road again.  I found myself wailing to anyone who would listen that “BOTH SIDES OF THE ROAD ARE WRONG!  THERE IS NO CORRECT SIDE ANYMORE!!!”

When filling my tank at the gas station, the attendant told me the total was $53 USD (66.25 SGD) and I almost replied “No, I wanted a full tank of gas,” thinking that there must have been a mistake. Then I remembered that gas is significantly cheaper here.  A typical full tank in Singapore is 100 SGD (80 USD), and that is for a tank that is only 2/3rds the size of my US tank.  To recap, I get 33% more gas for 67% of the cost of a tank of gas in Singapore.

Hello Reverse Culture shock

I’ve always been one to feel a deep sense of relief upon landing on American soil.  Coming home has meant that things finally make sense to me again without having to process or think–that I reflexively “get it.”

I’d heard of reverse culture shock but assumed that since I’m American as Apple Pie it would never happen to me.  That when we eventually moved home, I’d assimilate right back in without so much as a hiccup.

However, after two and a half years, it seems that my automatic sense of “just getting it” isn’t so automatic anymore. That I’m out of step here.  Confused.  I got lost when driving to a mall I’ve been to hundreds of times over the course of my life.  Perplexed by stores that are no longer there.  Looking for friends who have moved on from Massachusetts and the US.  Unsteady.

Playing with sidewalk chalk in my in-laws driveway with her Dada 

I’m not sure that we could ever use sidewalk chalk at our condo in Singapore.  But at my in-laws, Ellie is free to draw with it in the driveway and decorate the path to their front door, and no one cares if it doesn’t rain for a few days, knowing it will be washed away sooner or later.

Davis Square, Somerville Massachusetts

I am very used to the way retail transactions are done in Singapore, and it has shown in my two weeks here.

When trying to buy some stuff at a drug store, I handed the credit card to the cashier with both hands. WRONG-I should’ve used the machine.

I tried to insert the card into the machine to let it read the chip.  WRONG-I should’ve swiped it.

I waited to sign the slip.  WRONG-I should’ve signed the machine’s screen.

I’ve also used cash when I didn’t need to because I’m so used to credit card minimums.  In the US, you can charge almost any amount.  Often, when the transaction is less than 25 or 50 USD, you don’t even need to sign for it at all.

gorgeous sky

I know there are parts of Singapore where the sky is so big and so gorgeous it just blows your mind.  But due to where we live, where Ravi works, and where Ellie goes to school, the majority of my time is spent in the high rise mecca of the Central Business District. Seeing so much open sky and so many 1-2 story buildings shocks me at times.

Trinity Church with the Hancock Tower in the background (Copley Square, Boston)

Amusing anecdotes aside, the major change is ME.

I love being home.  I love seeing my friends.  I love having grandparents who are happy to babysit (for free, even!).  I love the long hot showers.  I love being able to shop for clothes that actually fit my body.  Oh, American Food–it’s so good that I’m only eating you for a few weeks–I can’t bear to think of how many calories I’m eating.

I’ve done some shopping–mostly for clothes for my non-pregnant, soon to be non-breastfeeding (or significantly reduced breastfeeding) body.  I’ve picked up Halloween costumes for the girls.  Some books.  A few dvd’s.  And we’ll fill a suitcase with food to be sure.

BUT.

I’m not running to Target, desperate for anything familiar, terrified to find alternatives.  I think of the food we took to Singapore, so certain we’d crave it, only to have it still sitting in our cupboards.  The tons of dvd’s I’ve bought only to not have viewed them as of yet.  Ellie wears uniforms five days a week–there’s no need to spoil her with a ton of new clothes, and Rhi is inheriting a ridiculous wardrobe from Ellie.  I’m more comfortable in the knowledge that if we truly need something, my in-laws can send it–or we can just live without it until our trip home in November for a cousin’s wedding.  In the 8 months since our last visit, the only thing I ran out of that was an issue was my preferred salon-sold shampoo and conditioner, and I bought more today.  I think it is a real possibility that we leave a suitcase or two here in the US instead of buying the two more we could to max our luggage allowance.  Sure toys are cheaper here (and so are books) and I’ve bought a couple, but…meh.

There is actually very little here that I couldn’t live without in Singapore (with the exception of my clothes and shampoo…and maybe a bag of my favorite bbq chips).  Realizing this is quite a shock to my system.

Singapore is home.  The way life works there, incomprehensible to me as it might be at times, is my “norm” now.

I find myself scouring my twitter feeds in the morning to catch up on my SG tweep’s doings.  I’ve joined in discussions dissecting caning (we’re against it), why women in SG aren’t procreating at the government’s preferred speed and volume, and rolled my eyes when people here think that the “National Night” video by Mentos is something to take seriously (also, I get most of the references!).  I’ve been in Singapore long enough to understand some of the political and social issues of the day well enough to have an educated opinion.

Ellie keeps asking when we’re going back to Singapore, and I think I finally understand why.  While I’ve enjoyed the trip “home,” I’m happy to heading back to the little red dot, which has also become “home.”

Filed under: Boston, cars/driving, Culture Shock, customs, Expat to Expat Advice, headdesk moments, Identity, money, North America, Pictures, Random Stuff, Singapore, Third Culture Kids, Travel by Continent, Country, US | 21 Comments »

House of Plague

Posted on July 23, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

I have to say that the last 10 days were not the most fun days.

I woke up the Wednesday before last with a sore throat and a headache.  I took some aspirin and moved on.  I woke up Thursday with a fever (and I almost never run a fever), and feeling so crappy that the mere idea of taking Elanor to pre-school reduced me to tears.  Ravi managed to pop out from work to run her to and from school for me.  On Friday I caved and went to the doctor after dropping Ellie off at pre-school, only to be diagnosed with influenza B.  I was told to go home, and not to do pick up as I was still pretty contagious.  Ravi did pick-up.  Ravi also parented for me all that weekend, but by Sunday the 15th he was feeling pretty lousy.  By Monday he was sick, ending up at the doctor on Tuesday.  By Wednesday night, the baby was sick.  I kept Ellie home pre-emptively Thursday and Friday expecting her to also become ill…only to have her still healthy as a horse on Sunday (and pretty upset about missing school and gymnastics).

Then on Sunday, Ellie ran into our bedroom, tripped and fell face first onto the corner of the platform our mattress sits on, cutting her gum badly enough to require an emergency room visit (although, thankfully, not stitches–the pediatric dentist says it will heal on its own, and will just check on it a few times over the next 2 weeks).

After being trapped in the house for most of the last 10 days I am running low on patience.  My house should declared a federal disaster area, and I only have 9 days to get everything in order to be gone for the better part of August.  I am fine, and things will be fine, but it has been a rough 10 days.  I didn’t ask for help because I didn’t want to infect any well-meaning friends.  Today I am just venting before I dive into a fairly scary to-do list.

Filed under: headdesk moments | 2 Comments »

My first Singaporean parking ticket

Posted on June 27, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

Dear Universe–

I realize that I was struggling to find a blog post topic, but it was a bit cruel to drop one into my lap in the form of a parking ticket.  Please do not be so literal in addressing my pleas for post topics in the future.

Thanks,

Crystal

To some extent, the only thing that shocked me about getting a parking ticket is that it took so long (almost 6 months).  I almost never park in the lots that use the parking coupons, instead almost exclusively ending up in the lots that scan the cash card mounted on the dashboard.  It was pretty inevitable that I would one day park in a coupon lot, get out of my car and walk away.  Which I did on Monday.

source

 

One of the other moms at Ellie’s Preschool was kind enough to take me to a tailor in Little India to get my sari blouses adjusted.  But between parking, juggling Rhiannon and the bag of fabric, it just slipped my mind.  While in the store, one of the women pointed out that I was getting a ticket.

I dashed out and begged my case, but it was too late.  Which sucks, but I wouldn’t have been able to talk my way out of the ticket in the US either (once they’d entered my car info).

 

The price for a moment of forgetfulness?  $30 SGD (about $23.50 USD), which is cheaper than the same offense in Boston or NYC (which is 30-50 USD, if I recall).

source

The experience did give me a chance to finally use the AXS machine, though.  I first ran into one of these in Great World City when I was in the first month of expat life, and I tried to use it as an ATM (which is about the only thing it doesn’t do), and walked away beyond confused.  Since then, they’ve remained this strange, mysterious presence whose purpose I just couldn’t figure out from a distance of 10 feet, and after making an idiot of myself at one, I guess I was a bit gun-shy at walking up and poking at it to figure out its purpose.

One of the things the AXS does is that it lets you pay parking fines, which is kind of cool.  It’s also confusing, and I learned far more about parking tickets in Singapore then I ever probably wanted to know.

  • There are 4 different agencies that issue parking tickets  (yet somehow NONE of them have the least interest in fining the illegally parked motorcycles that swarm the sidewalk outside my condo, making it impassable by stroller most evenings while the riders take a leisurely dinner at one of restaurants across the street on River Valley Road)
  • Depending on who gave you the ticket, there can be a waiting time of X days before you can pay it at an AXS machine (but don’t wait too long or you’ll get into more trouble!)
  • Your ticket will say which agency issued the ticket (after you stare at it, totally baffled, for about 5 minutes–yes folks, I have a Master’s Degree but can’t pay a parking ticket!)
  • Follow the onscreen instructions (try not to look like you’re illiterate as you hesitantly re-read them 10 times before pushing a button out of fear of fucking it up)
  • You’ll get a receipt showing that you’ve paid

It was definitely easier than trying to remember to write a check, find a stamp and mail it in.   I believe there was also a web option to pay.

May my bad ticket karma not rub off on you, and may this be my last ticket (although it probably won’t be).

 

Filed under: cars/driving, headdesk moments, money, Singapore | 5 Comments »

Then there are days like today….

Posted on June 12, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

My friend Jessica was somewhat prophetic during a conversation we had within the past six months.  We were discussing expat life, and she turned to me and said “the third year is the hardest.”  I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t discount her comment either.

There are times when the third year seems like the best so far.  I know how to get to places I frequent, I’ve found my friends, we have a routine, and while it’s not all rainbows and unicorns, it’s a good life.

Then there are days like today.

In general I try not to be the ugly expat or the ugly american.

Then there are days like today.

In general I try to keep calm and grit my teeth and just get through the day when it’s a rough one.

Then there are days like today.

To be fair, I have to back up a bit.  Last night our game plan was to eat dinner at Chili’s Tanglin Malll and then go downstairs and get groceries.  The plan was completely derailed when, after shrieking, I picked Rhiannon up and sat her on the table to play with her.  Within about 0.3 seconds, she’d reached out, gotten a grip on my cup of ice water, and tipped it over…directly onto my lap.  Luckily I was just about done with dinner, so the baby, myself and my soaking wet pants did a walk of shame to the elevator and down to the car where I could look like I’d peed my pants in private.  Needless to say, groceries didn’t happen last night.

Last night was one of those nights where just as I was falling asleep the baby needed to nurse.  Then she needed to nurse twice more.  Then she woke up and would not go back to sleep at too goddamn early this morning. Then, just as we were falling asleep, I got a call to let me know the dishwasher repair guy was 10 minutes away.  The dishwasher repair appointment that I’d totally forgotten about, and had not put on the calendar.

The dishwasher isn’t zapping me because it is broken.  Its randomly zapping me because the wall socket it’s plugged into isn’t grounded properly, which means I need to schedule a handyman appointment.

In this whole mess, I never got my shower.

This may seem like a small thing to some people, but my morning shower is SACRED.  SACRED.

Ellie had an accident.

Food ended up happening late, and I almost didn’t get to eat at all.  In fact, the only way I was able to eat was to let Rhiannon cry for the 10 minutes it took for me to make and inhale some food.  Which, you know, made me feel like mom of the year.

We were late to school.

Then, instead of relaxing and writing during school, I had to grocery shop.  I took Rhi to the Jason’s at Tanglin, where we’d planned to shop the day before.  I decided to load up on staples and just get a delivery tonight.  I loaded my cart to capacity, and got to the checkout.

The person in front of me had also done a delivery order and half of her order was waiting to be boxed.  I was really unhappy that they just started to run my groceries through without finishing boxing up that order, worried that things were going to get mixed up.

Then I clarified twice where my groceries should be divided between taking them home now and please deliver.

I look up from loading the belt and see things getting tossed into delivery boxes without any sort of regard for delivery versus take home now.  We’re not even going to mention what was happening to my loaf of bread.  Annoyed, I clarify that I’m taking home all of the perishables.  The bagger gets snippy with me about it, and is pissed that she has to take things out of a box and put them into a plastic bag.  She takes this out on my groceries, overloading bags and putting stuff together that shouldnt’ have been together.

I need to stop and say that improper and careless bagging is one of my biggest pet peeves.  One of my first jobs was to work as a grocery store clerk and bagger.  Grocery packing 101–cold stuff with cold stuff, veggies with veggies, boxes with boxes, bottles with bottles (but not too many so as not to tear the bag), and so forth.  I’m so anal that I actually put things on the belt specifically in the order I’d like them bagged.  And it still get fucked up beyond all hope.  And seriously?  Who puts cans in with BREAD?  Just….ugh…MAJOR pet peeve.

Whatever.  I get the bill and pay it.

They hand me the slip and do not say when the groceries will be delivered.  I have to stop them and ask for clarification.

“Before 6,” they tell me.

“No, it has to be after 7,” I tell them.

“Tomorrow?” they ask.

“Sure.  After 7.”

“Maid can take delivery?”

“Not everyone has a maid,” I snap.

This then devolves into a giant mess, with my stress levels (which were already spinning into “I want a one way ticket home” or “hide in my closet for a week” territory) through the roof.  When Rhi got hungry and starting screaming the kind of piercing scream that could be heard throughout Tanglin, I began to lose it.

They suggest leaving stuff outside the door….which would be fine if I hadn’t just watched them make each box easily over 50 lbs (and one box of baby food is so carelessly packed I want to open up a betting pool on how many jars will be broken…not if they’ll be broken, but how many).  I have a herniated disk in my back that I’m desperately trying to not need surgery for.  I didn’t want to get in trouble for leaving groceries outside in my hall until whenever Ravi manages to get home.

At some point I suggest they just refund my order altogether.  This is met with even more “cannots”.

Rhi is screaming these loud piercing screams at this point.  This is attracting a lot of attention, as I’m sure my visible stress level is.  Great, now I’m a spectacle, which makes me even more stressed and upset.

“Whatever.  Leave it outside the door, I don’t care.” I snap and walk out.

I was the ugly expat/ugly american.  I lost control.  I was not at my best.  I was not polite.  I was not understanding.  I just hit the end of my rope.  In short, I was an asshole.

I could try to justify or explain myself.  Yes, it’s probably been about a year now since I’ve had an uninterrupted night of sleep.  Yes, I am going through adjusting my mood stabilizer dosage.  Yes, I do have a very bad back and picking up one of those boxes could be the straw that literally breaks my back (it was a box of books the last time I needed surgery).  Yes, I was already having a bad day.  Yes, it was horrible customer service, but after three years, if I actually expect more than that, I haven’t been paying attention.

For me, the problem is that when I get really anxious and stressed, I get very rigid.  I have trouble thinking of different solutions (leaving the boxes in the hall and slowly unpacking them by walking repeatedly from the hallway to the kitchen, calling a friend and asking them to pick up Ellie, rushing home from school as fast as we could–which got me home by 6:15 over loud protests from Ellie instead of doing our usual routine and lucking out on traffic, or anything).  I had calculated that 7 was the most realistic time, given that deliveries tend to happen VERY early or VERY late.  If I said 6:15 was okay, they’d be there at 5:45–this is overwhelmingly my experience.  If anytime were fine, they’d call and ask if it was okay to stop for dinner and drop the groceries off at ten.  So after 7 was the ONLY acceptable option.

First, I got angry and called Ravi and just unloaded about how frustrated I was.

But by the time the elevator had reached B4, I was past angry and onto sad and frustrated.  I got to my car and burst into tears.  I cried the entire drive home.  I cried in my car in my building’s parking lot because my cleaner was still upstairs.

I pulled it together, got upstairs, waved hi on the way to my bedroom and fed Rhi.

Then I took a shower, which was the turning point.  I felt physically better, which made me more capable to deal with the rest of the day.

Did things get better?  Yes and no.

Ellie managed to have several bathroom accidents, Rhi screamed the entire time I was cooking dinner, Rhiannon would not go to sleep even though she was exhausted and it took several hours to get her down.

But…I managed to beat the grocery delivery home by about five minutes, thanks to the fastest pick up in pre-k history.  Miraculously nothing was broken.  My dry cleaning guy showed up and took my stuff.  I got everyone fed. Both girls are finally asleep.  I got a couple of good emails in.

Overall, today was one of those days.

I’m often reluctant to share stories like this.  I know that my parents and in-laws read the blog and I don’t want to worry them about what are effectively minor bumps in the road.  But if I’m going to be honest about my experiences, this is the kind of story I have to share as well.  Yes, there are craptastic days back home.  But I would be lying if I didn’t say that there was a component of today’s implosion that wasn’t expat related.  I felt like just as I finally had the rules down (delivery times, for example), the rules change and I missed out.  I was frustrated by the complexity of getting groceries to my home when back home I would’ve just ordered online (yes I know there are online options here–they don’t carry enough American products to make it worth my while–I’d still need to go to a grocery store or three) and scheduled a delivery within a 2 hour block that worked for me.  I was frustrated by the lack of communication (I could live the rest of my life without hearing cannot again), which at the grocery store was in part a language thing.  I was frustrated that I have to call my handyman and deal with the electrical issue in an apartment I don’t own as opposed to just calling building maintenance.  Little things about life in Singapore that irritate me individually, but all coalesced together and mixed with other life drama (aka no sleep, meds adjustment, Rhi’s clingy phase coupled with my feeling touched out) to result in a situation where, hours later, I am ashamed of my behavior.

There are sometimes days like this.

Filed under: Culture Shock, customs, Expat to Expat Advice, general places, headdesk moments, Housing, Shopping, Singapore | 16 Comments »

500

Posted on May 19, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

This is my 500th post at Expat Bostonians.

I began the blog on March 8th, 2010; 2 years, 2 months and 9 or 10 days (depending on how you count the time difference) ago.  A blog seemed like the logical way to keep our friends back home apprised of what life here in the Lion City was like.  Before I moved here, the only things I knew (or thought I knew) about Singapore was that some American kid had gotten caned here when I was in high school, and that chewing gum was illegal here.

In honor of my 500th post, I thought I’d share some of my favorite posts in chronological order.

2010–Lots of factual posts (what does the money here look like), not a ton of introspection.  I think I was so busy taking in Singapore that I couldn’t really process it.

Our look see visit to Singapore — This is a favorite post because it’s my baseline.  It contains my first photos and impressions of Singapore.  This is a post I look back at to see how far I’ve come.

Awkward–My first post about hiring a helper.

4th of July, Singaporean Style–Our first big American holiday spent in Singapore, and a favorite memory to this day.  I’ve loved the American 4th of July event both years we’ve been here, and I’m looking forward to our third in a few months.

Palawan Beach–Our first visit there, and contains some of my favorite photos.

Thailand, Part 2–Describes one of the coolest things I’ve done in Southeast Asia-the Siam Safari in Phuket.  A 6 hour adventure that tried to balance eco-tourism with preserving culture, and the struggles that come with it.  I’m a nerd, so learning on vacation=YAY.  Also-BABY ELEPHANTS! Extremely long entry, but one of my all time favorites

Christmas out and about in Singapore–I was totally thrown by stores being open and seeing Christmas treated as just another state sanctioned holiday.

2011-I got to know more people and began to really participate in the blogging community here.  I started writing posts that tried to get to the why instead of the what.  WHY were things the way they were instead of a book report.

Happy (sort of ) New Years–I live tweeted the NYE special with Kirsten and this post shares some of the highlights. Sort of New Years because it was 2011 in Singapore but still 2010 in Boston.

Skin Whitening…it’s a “thing” here–One of the first posts discussing my discomfort with the way whiteness is idealized here.

Having a Maid…the bad and the ugly–Singapore practically expects you to have a maid, but few people talk about the negatives.  This post explored the negatives both from the culture clash perspective and the issues within Singapore itself (the racism and abuses).

What do I do when the power goes out and other questions I forgot to ask–just when you think you’ve figured out expat life, something happens to totally upend your sense of comfort.

Hong Kong-Goldfish Market and Street Markets–On our child-free vacation in Hong Kong, Ravi and I visited the Goldfish Market in Hong Kong and it was another really memorable vacation moment.

Bad Expat (Part 1-ur doin it rong)–In which I explain all the ways I suck at being an expat.

Seth Rogen talks about Singapore–and SG isn’t happy–this was the first time I felt like I could explain and understand both sides of a US/SG critique and conflict of humor.

Things you don’t see/hear in Singapore–After a trip home, I began to realize there are some things I never see or hear in Singapore

Maids, Cultural Expectations and the Importance of Modeling (expat to expat advice)–A post that really talks about the cultural issues (small and big) that come with having a maid.

Pink Dot 2011–I was so proud to be at Pink Dot (an celebration of all love, particularly LGBT love and the only pro-gay event in Singapore) last year, when Google stepped up as the first ever corporate sponsor.

A negative experience at a doctor’s office and maybe some news–It feels strange to put such an angry post on my “favorites/top” list.  However, I think it is well written and it clearly articulates an issue I’ve had repeatedly with older male doctors in Singapore-being condescended to/spoken to as if I were my 3 year old.  As an expat, you have to constantly negotiate cultural issues, and, in general, it is best to learn to bend and to be flexible.  However, it is also okay to have lines that you can not, under any circumstance, cross.  This experience was one of them.

Our second 4th of July in Singapore-Our second, and equally memorable 4th of July in Singapore

My tale of laptop woe grows–I take my laptop to a certified apple repair center, tragic hilarity ensues

Comparing Singaporean and American Pregnancy Guides–After having a baby in the US, I wanted to read a local pregnancy guide to figure out how the approach locally was different.

My first name is not Crystalann–I like the post more because of the really interesting conversation it inspired in the comments section about names and culture.

Validation-The post I wrote after my first fiction short story acceptance

Santa Cruz Boardwalk-A wonderful day with Ellie on vacation.  Ravi was sick, and I was pregnant, so it was one of our last big adventures just her and I before the baby arrived.  I also love the pictures.

Why I didn’t want to be in the US on 9/11-On the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I was in the US and I was reminded of many of the things I don’t like about being an American, and why we have such a bad reputation abroad.

Just WHAT is in those 8 suitcases Part 1 and Part 2 –A photo essay of the kind of nonsense we bring back to Singapore from home.

Prenatal care in the US vs Singapore–Shh, don’t tell anyone, but I might like Singaporean prenatal care better.

Rhiannon Arcadia-I got to announce and post a picture of my newly born 2nd child.  Of course it’s a favorite.

An American Halloween in Singapore–We go trick or treating!

Happy Birthday Elanor–her 3rd birthday post

Slutwalk Singapore 2011–I took the girls to slutwalk because I want to raise them to be strong independent feminists.

Wicked Green Carpet and Gala–I won tickets to the black tie gala premiere of Wicked in Singapore.  My friend Kirsten and I and our lack of social skills went…hilarity ensued.

Oh Christmas Tree—We had a great Christmas Tree, until the cats went on the offensive

Disconnect-Firing B was not a highlight of my blog, but it was one of the most significant events, and for that reason, I need to include it.

2012-I’m really proud that so far in 2012, I got nominated for a Singapore Blog Award, was named a top blog by InterNations and have started contributing professionally at White As Milk.

Irresistible-The book with my short story in it was published (the short story is under a pen name, but if you read the book, you’ll be able to figure it out, trust me)

That does not mean what you think it means–English vs English FAIL

Lessons learned from my negative maid experience–I take ownership of my mistakes in the whole B debacle

What I love about Singapore that has nothing to do with my children–I had to really think about this as all my reflexive answers have to do with my kids.

Where are you from–I share a story about Ravi and wonder aloud how my 3rd culture kids are going to react to their home culture…or if they’ll even consider it their home culture

Stuff I wish I hadn’t brought to Singapore–Things that I’ve found around the house that have me wondering just what I was thinking when I brought them to Singapore

Elanor and the ACA–why health care matters–Elanor’s story (warning–possible triggers as it does graphically describe what happened to Ellie at a week of age, including how close she came to death, and includes a photo from intensive care)

When I was six–What life was like for me in small town MA as a kid in the 80′s

My misconceptions about Expat Life–Boy did I have it wrong on some things.

Ways that living in Singapore have changed me—the shallow edition

Wild Life Sydney Zoo at Darling Harbour–the highlight of our trip to Australia

My bank is trying to Punk Me-another absurd/hilarious tale of customer service hell

Filed under: Acts of Supreme Clumsiness, Asia, Attractions, Australia, Before the Move, Boston, Culture Shock, customs, Expat to Expat Advice, general places, headdesk moments, Helpers, Holidays (Not Singaporean), Hong Kong, Identity, medical, North America, Phuket, politics, Pregnant Expat, San Francisco, Singapore, Sydney, Thailand, Third Culture Kids, Travel, Travel by Continent, Country, Uniquely Singapore, US, With Kids | 4 Comments »

Ways that living in Singapore has changed me…

Posted on April 19, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

I thought tomorrow (the 19th) was our 2 year anniversary here in Singapore, but according to this post, it was today.  Which highlights nicely how quickly time flies, how unreliable memory is, and how crap I am at basic skills like reading a calendar.

Two years ago today, I was wondering around Singapore in a jet lagged haze while Ravi was at work.  I would move our belonging into a serviced apartment (and the very next day into a different serviced apartment after the first was bug infested-fun times!).  I remember  staring stupidly and blurrily at Orchard Road, and having no clue where anything was in relation to anything else.

Today Ravi headed off to work (okay, so his life isn’t all that different than two years ago).  Ellie had crawled into our bed at some point in the night, and I woke up with a three year old snuggled up against me (which is actually something I really enjoy, even if it means I get a grand total of 2 inches or so of bed) and the six month old starting to stir.  We hung out in our apartment (surrounded by our stuff, as opposed to the serviced apartment and a multitude of suitcases full of stuff).  I took Ellie to school, where we met up with my friend Claire.  Claire, Rhi and I drove over to the Titanic Exhibit at the ArtScience Museum–it was my 2nd time and Claire’s first (see my review here–only in Singapore for two more weeks!)  Then we picked Ellie up from school. We chatted with other moms and some of the teachers who had to come coo over Rhiannon.  After parting ways with Claire, Ellie and I picked up some supplies from the grocery store and headed home.  Dinner.  TV.  Bathtime.  Storytime.  Bedtime.

I could go into some long-winded sincere post about how different life is from two years ago.

Instead, I’m going to talk about the shallow ways in which Singapore has changed me.  These are totally off the cuff, and in no way comprehensive or in any sort of order.

Another Day, Another Maserati

Granted, I’ve never been a “car person,” so to speak, but I would stop and stare at the random sports cars I ran into in my previous life.  I’d hear the purr of a sports car engine and my heart would give a small flip of envy.

In Singapore, sports cars (and not just sports cars–Maserati’s, Ferrari’s, etc) are so ubiquitous that I barely even register them.  Or if I do register a sports car, my far more frequent and irritated reaction is “gee, I wish I were important enough to have a car so freaking loud I can hear you drag racing down my street at 1am from the sixth floor!”   Having a car is so expensive in the first place, that if you’re going to own a car, I guess you might as well own a Bentley?

So what grabs my attention in the car department these days?  There are two (or maybe 3) London style taxis; one of them bright pink.  It just makes my day to see one.  I’ve seen maybe 3 Priuses (Priuii?  What’s the plural of Prius?) which makes them stand out, whereas back home they were a super common sight.  Claire and I also once saw a perfectly made up woman riding a vespa with stilettos on (something we were both awed by and admitted we could never replicate ourselves), which was fairly impressive.

But a Maserati?  Meh–see those all the time.

I’m never going to remember which is the wiper blades baton and which is the directional

After driving on both sides of the road for so long, I have no clue what side of the car I’m supposed to get into, and I still occasionally screw up my wiper blades and directional–which has taught Elanor all sorts of colorful words and terms.

I hate closed-toe shoes now

I have always enjoyed a good sandal in the summertime.  But in Boston, at least for half the year if you don’t cover your toes you’re going to lose them to frostbite.  However, in the equatorial heat of Singapore, a closed toed shoe makes your foot feel like it’s dying slowly in a sauna.   Socks and closed toed shoes begin to gather dust as you strap on flip flops and sandals.

On my most recent trip home, even though it was very chilly, my toes felt like they were being held hostage by my sneakers and boots.  Pointy toed heels did me in the night of the Wicked Gala with Kirsten, and she can attest to the fact that on the walk back to the taxi, I had to step out of my shoes or I was going to have to crawl to the cab stand.

Polish, Please

As you might expect, given that I live in flip flops, my toe nails are far more nurtured than they were in the US.  I will grant that the state of my post-partum toes is tragic, but dudes, I had a baby six months ago–I feel lucky I shower most days.  But before the baby, they were kept pretty with regular pedicures (some in nail salons, some self-done).

I am pathetically grateful when I can return something

In the US, I have a hard time thinking of anyone who doesn’t accept returns.  In Singapore, I have the inverse problem.  So I have to be far more careful about purchases, as they are permanent. (Witness my dishwasher FAIL of English vs English)

When I go home, I’ll confess sometimes I buy things just so I can return them for the novelty of it all.

Verified by Visa makes me cringe

I realize it’s a safety measure and I should be grateful that Singapore is trying to keep my identity from being stolen, and blah blah blah…Verified by Visa is a pain in the ass.

For those lucky enough to not know it, Verified by Visa is a process by which whenever you shop online, the purchase isn’t finalized until you enter a pin number sent to your phone.  This makes shopping online, whether for 9 dollar movie tickets or 900 dollar airfare a giant pain in the ass.  Especially if you have a joint card, but have not yet set both of your cellphones up (which meant for a few months, I had to call Ravi for the pin).

I have no clue what people without cellphones do in this situation.  Seriously–does anyone know?  Now that I’ve posed the question, I really really want to know the answer!

What’s a weather report?

The weather in Singapore is so consistent that I don’t ever think about what I might need to wear.  I live in shorts, a tank top, and flip flops.  End of story.  The only thing that affects how I dress the girls is the intensity of the air conditioning at our destination.

This has and will continue to result in a sartorial comedy of errors when I travel outside of Singapore. 

What is this jack-et of which you speak? 

I quite literally can’t seem to wrap my head around “weather” and that it varies in other places.  Witness me trying to pack for our trip to Australia…first I need to convert all the temps into Farenheit, and then I try to remember what they feel like and what sort of clothing that might call far.  Anyone who wants to lay bets on us having to buy one or two things because I screw it up may as well start the pool now.

I’m always going to be able to identify durian blindfolded

Once smelled and tasted, durian is something that sticks with you for life.  A waft of stinky gym socks moldering in a plastic bag for a month will always make me nostalgic for Singapore.

 

 

Filed under: Before the Move, Culture Shock, customs, headdesk moments, Identity, money, Random Stuff, Shopping, Singapore | 13 Comments »

Stuff I wish I hadn’t brought to Singapore…

Posted on March 23, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

Ravi left Boston for Singapore to start work on March 27th, 2010.  Elanor and I left Boston on April 17th (Ravi came back around the 10th to help with last minute transition-y stuff).  Which means we are approaching our two year anniversary in Singapore.

It’s hard to miss this anniversary.  Employment and Dependent passes are being renewed.  Our apartment lease is ending.  Our cell phone contracts are ending.  Thus it is also a time where reflection is inevitable.

I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on the woman I was two years ago and what I was worried about.  What I was scouring the internet for…trying to figure out what to bring to Singapore.  What to purchase because I couldn’t get it here.  What I’d need for Ellie (and the baby we kind of wanted to have at some point in the future–aka Rhiannon).  I read list after list about what people thought I should bring, what they regretted not bringing, and so forth.

You know what I never saw?  A list of things people regretted bringing.  So in the spirit of being different, I bring you my top 10 things I shouldn’t have bothered hauling halfway around the world.  While this is meant to be tongue in cheek, I am planning on giving a few pieces of good advice to any incoming expats who might read this.

The Top 10 Things I Wish I Hadn’t Brought to Singapore

#10–Exercise Equipment I didn’t use in the US

Inflating the yoga ball is usually a good first step…

I think it probably bears saying that if you never used your (in my case) Yoga Ball, Tennis Racquets, or Ice Skates in the US (or only used them extremely rarely) that you’re not going to use them in your new home country.  Same you, different location.

Yes, it’s hotter here…and you wear fewer clothes, so being more in shape might be nice.  But really, what’s the likelihood?  If you *do* turn a new leaf, there are plenty of places to buy equipment you won’t use here (or in any country you move to, most likely).

#9-Books that MIGHT be useful should X/Y/Z happen

Because who wouldn’t love to read about Middle School Math?

To be fair, there was logic behind this mistake; books are heavy and they are expensive to ship, thus I should ship all my books over in the shipment that I am not paying for.  In 2010, Ravi and I had barely purchased our first Kindles, and e-books were not our habit at that point.  So we brought a LOT of books to Singapore, not fully understanding how little space we would have, especially once we had to convert our office/library into baby #2′s room.

I especially regret the library of history non-fiction books I’ve been dragging around since I quit my MA/PhD program in 2003 and haven’t opened since then either, and the library of math-related books that I haven’t touched since I last taught Math in early 2008.

I have begun the tedious process of weeding out books that have NO usefulness to us and donating them, and taking the books we would like a copy of, but just not in Singapore, back to the US (as my suitcases are mostly empty on my way to the US).  There are many trips worth of books left to go.  Having almost fully converted to Kindle by now I am frustrated that we brought books for anyone but Elanor (apart from favorites).

#8-The Nintendo Wii and its accompanying “stuff”

Alas, Guitar Hero guitar, I am NOT ready to rock…

I had not played my Wii very much since I had Elanor.  Moving to Singapore and having another baby didn’t actually help.

The logic was that Wii’s are region-encoded and the system is pricey here, so if I *did* want to play, it was best to bring it from home.  I played it exactly once or twice when we first moved, and that’s it.

I finally packed ours away recently and will need to get around to putting it on craigslist soon.

#7-My Gorgeous Vase

It’s soooooo pretty

I have young children.  Exactly when did I think I was going to be able to display this?

To be fair, when we moved, Ellie was walking and such, but I still had pretty things displayed in our home in the US.  But I just don’t have a child-proof space here for it.  So I keep it hidden in the office, fake lilies still taped together (something the movers did) feeling more rejected than Miss Havisham.

#6-My Crystal Bowl

Another pretty thing that serves no function

Young children, nowhere to put it, and the added bonus of being able to give a concussion.  It gets moved around from place to place in the house, but ultimately is another thing that is impractical to have and impractical to send back.

#5-Too many magnets

A small sampling of what I kept

Ravi and I have an unfortunate habit.  We each collected magnets prior to meeting, and then added magnets from every location traveled to, and every show seen.  After a while, the collection was ridiculous.

I finally thinned the collection out before the last trip home.  This is the super small fraction I kept, and luckily for me, magnets are at least easy to pack and take back to the US.

#4–My Cupcake Stand

Now I’m honor bound to make cupcakes…

Overall, I made smart choices about what kitchen stuff to leave behind and what to bring.  I think the issue was that I hadn’t yet used the cupcake stand in the US, and I just had to justify buying the damn thing (we’ll use it at parties! I’ll make Ellie cupcakes!) by bringing it here…where it has gathered dust for two years.

#3-My Maya Wrap and other baby crap I didn’t like the first time aroundUncomfortable and ugly…yeah, I’m totally using this again…

Yes, every baby is different.  However, I hated the fit and the design of the Maya Wrap the first time around…putting a different baby in it doesn’t mean it will feel more comfortable on my body.  Logic #FAIL  (this can also be applied to assorted other baby crap I didn’t use/didn’t like the first time…now TWO babies haven’t worn/used/sat in/played with X).

#2-My Wedding China

But I use it once a year!!!!

Yes, I am sentimental and like to serve dinner on our wedding china on our anniversary (we picked a pattern as close to the china used at our wedding as we could fine), and occasionally major holidays.  However…see previous remarks about small children.  Let us also discuss the logic #FAIL in dishes I’m going to use, at most, once a year.

See previous comments about too difficult to take back in a suitcase/too expensive to ship.  So they sit above my cabinets, not getting used.

#1-My Wedding Veil

Here comes the bride….6 1/2 years ago…

I only just stumbled across this.  I can only guess that the veil was a victim of the “oh, just fuck it all” attitude that came over me after sorting 95% of an apartment into Mom’s House/ In-law’s House/ Donate or Sell/ Toss/ Singapore.  At some point I decided I didn’t care anymore and let the packers just box it up and send it to Singapore.  Including this, apparently.  At least it will be easy to toss into a suitcase and take back next time.

Honorable mention-Various knicknacks from home

But I remind you of Chicago, or maybe Mystic…

This isn’t so much a regret as it is just my acquisitive nature creating a bit of a hoard (much like our magnet issue).  I brought a lot of our cute knick knacks and souvenirs from our travels to decorate the home here in Singapore.  The logic was sound–to make it feel more like home.  However, I did not take into account that I would be buying more stuff as I traveled in Asia.  So now my shelves are a bit crowded.

Advice

In the end, my mistakes generally fall into a few categories  (Do I say, kids, not as I do)

#1-Stuff I didn’t use/ use frequently back home–if it’s not something you use frequently, it’s not worth bringing

#2-Stuff with emotional, rather than practical value, and too much of it–it’s not that I don’t think you should bring sentimental items, but perhaps limit them, as you’ll be creating new memories here.  If it would break your heart if it broke…maybe it should stay “home.”  Limit it.

#3-My wedding veil–I have no idea, either.

In the end, it’s hard when you have a move like ours; it’s indefinite so it’s hard to say whether you’ll “need” something or not.  The fear is always that if you leave it behind, it’s behind forever.  Of course, this is NOT TRUE.  It just might cost you some money down the line to ship it to wherever you are.

Even when a company is generous enough to ship the stuff for you, free of charge, do yourself a favor and lose the excess “stuff.”

At least I had the common sense to leave the marble chess board with pietra dura work that we bought in India back in Boston…

Filed under: Before the Move, Expat to Expat Advice, headdesk moments | 23 Comments »

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