Meredith Carson... Across the Pond and Back Again...

Recently I have had this niggling desire to write.  It has been a niggling desire that I have hushed up with social media, Food Network, and Utz potato chips. If I am honest, I have been unmotivated to empower my writing self because I am afraid.  I am afraid that I do not have anything new or relevant to say.  Additionally I have realized that most of my obsessive thoughts spiral around my children, and, as they grow older, I do not feel as though I have permission to write publicly about their experiences.  Sharing an anecdote about the cute thing your three year old did at the park is completely different from venting about your fourteen year old’s friend drama.  (I was recently mortified when I read a blog in which a mother had written in detail about her daughter’s experience with puberty along with a self-congratulatory description of all the cute things she had done as a mother to make her daughter’s first period a “special celebration”.  Could you...

Here I am in the place I’ve longed to be for ten years.  I’m back.  It all feels rather surreal.  Thomas Wolfe had already warned me that I couldn’t ever really go home again.  I knew this.  I have never been this age, had these children at this point in time, or been the me who lives in this skin in this place before.  Everyone here has also grown and changed.   The roads have changed.  The barbecue, hushpuppies, and sweet tea, however, all seem to have remained constant.  Praise the Lord. I am elated to be back in North Carolina.  Yesterday I ate my lunch outside in the sunshine.  Folks up in Michigan are buried under a foot of snow and enduring sub-zero temps as I shut my eyes and feel the vitamin D being absorbed through my cheeks.  It is wonderful.  But I am impatient. I feel the burden of impatience when I wake in the morning.  I want to feel at home at home again.  Reinventing myself here sho...

Here's the skinny on us this week... The Carsons are getting settled slowly but surely.  We are enjoying the summer sun and readjusting to Stateside living.  I still require at least two hours in the grocery store, but I am beginning to feel slightly less bewildered each time I go inside.  I do find that I miss the fabulous array of cheap, quality dairy products that are available in British supermarkets.  American cheese and yogurts are especially poor in comparison.  I paid about $7 for a small chunk of Irish Kerry Gold cheddar last week, but (yum) it was worth it.  I also miss that giant aisle in Tesco that was full of nothing but tea and coffee, but I will cope.  Don't you worry.  I'm still enjoying my washer and dryer and some dark chocolate Reece's cups...where have THOSE been all my life? Sophie and Emma have been enjoying their Kung Fu Panda camp at the Community Center this week.  Sophie has been befriended by a big gir...

We have been back in the Land of Plenty for a week now.  I know it is the Land of Plenty because the backsides are much larger here on average than they are in the UK and because the grocery store here is about 400 acres in size.  Emma, Lili, and I went to our local supermarket on Thursday where we found ourselves feeling completely overwhelmed and over-stimulated.  I actually felt my brain lock up on the cereal aisle where there appeared to be thousands of varieties of flakes and puffs and o's.  Emma and I scanned the aisle back and forth and up and down.  "Where is the Raisin Bran, Emma?" "I don't know, Mom!!  There it is!  No, wait, that's raisin-something else."  We were struggling.  My fellow Americans, y'all are completely spoiled for choice!  I had forgotten there could be so many different kinds of cake mixes and cookies and crackers and juice drinks and, oh, the list goes on!  I have now been to the grocery st...

I began writing this before we left the UK, but never published.  Now we are all safely in Michigan, in our new house, surrounded by boxes and chaos, but that is another story... This is much worse than those tearful goodbyes at summer camp back when I was a kid. Although it is a bit similar… I have forged a somewhat new way of life immersed in a different culture far away from mom and familiarity. I have developed a few deep friendships and even adopted a “surrogate family.” What would I have done without the Collinses during my postpartum nightmare? I have picked up bits and pieces of a new language and am even taking home the best souvenir ever… a Welsh-born little girl. I will miss the vibrant green of Wales when I am driving through our different-green American countryside. I will not miss navigating down those narrow British lanes, but I will miss the charming places to which they led, and I will miss the friendly faces that were waiting there. Saying goodbye was just ...

Last night I had a lovely small "leaving party" at the Collins's house.  It was a perfect evening.  Friends gathered for a chilled out evening in the garden where the atmosphere was warm and pleasant.  We chatted, ate Joanna's organic homegrown strawberries, and passed Lili around like a parcel at a children's birthday party.  At the end of the evening, the ladies presented me with a beautiful floral Cath Kidston tablecloth to take back to the US.  Do they know me or what?  I was completely surprised and giddy. All that being said, my favourite part of the evening happened after the party was over and involved the little smiling cutie pie whose picture is situated at the top of this posting.  When we got home, it was past every little girl's bedtime.  Sophie and Lili went to bed quite easily, but as usual, Emma lingered longer than necessary, brushing her teeth painstakingly slowly in my bathroom.  In the end she ended up flopping down on ...

Lili had a big night out in Barry last night.  She helped us celebrate Leanne's 40th birthday.  Disco lights and sparkly mylar balloons are a baby's best friend...  Wow!  She was impressed, as Sophie would say. On a more somber note, there are only two weeks between me and a long flight to Kalamazoo.  (Ok, I'm not actually going to Kalamazoo, but it's in the same general region, and isn't it just fun to say Kalamazoo.  Go on... "Kalamazoo-zoo-zoo-zoo-zoo.")  I have only two weeks left to soak in all that is Wales.  Last night when George (and Lili) and I went to that birthday party, I was very aware that it would probably be last time I saw most of those lovely people.  If you know me, you know that I don't care for tearful goodbyes.  I really cannot even face tearful goodbyes.  I am always afraid that if I start, I won't be able to turn off the tap.  Please don't tell me goodbye.  Let me leave with my dig...

Since we are all moving back to the US this summer, I find myself wondering if I can still be Mama Carson Across the Pond ?  I suppose I will still be across the pond from all of my British friends, right?  Perhaps my title will need a bit of a tweak.  I am open to suggestions.  I am also open to the immense feelings of "reverse culture shock" that I expect to be experiencing this summer. Soon you will be able to read about all of the things I miss about the UK.  You can look forward to reading about my yearning for the almost daily walks that my friends and I take along the Taff Trail.  These walks out in the fresh air really feed my spirit, and there is practically nothing that we haven't discussed whilst walking.  (I mean it.  Nothing. Trust me on this.)  I am finding it difficult to imagine finding a way to fill the void that will be left when I no longer have my morning walks with Sonia, Jo, Rose, and the others who join us on oc...