Wrapping up the school year in Warsaw!

Hejjo: But that was so easy, it wasn't at all what I thought it would be like.

Me: What did you think was going to happen?

Hejjo: I imagined we were going to be in this big room with just me and three teachers at the front. And they were all old ladies and they were sitting at the front of the room and the whole room was dark except for one light right above them and one light right above me and they were going to take out a pointer and start pointing at the board and making me tell them stuff.

Me: What?! Why did you think that?

Hejjo: I dont know, I was just scared and I think this would be really scary so I just imagined it like that...

(timidly)...Mommy, did they say you can still home school me? Did I do good enough so you can still home school me?

dearest sweet boy

Me: Yes, Hejjo. You did wonderfully. You are definitely allowed to still home school.

Hejjo:  Good.

And that pretty much sums it up. 

Hejjo has been talking about these exams, worrying about them, asking about them, gathering his work, practicing his reading and just generally thinking about it all for a good solid month. Graduating form 1st grade is serious business.

And he did wonderfully.

In Polish and in English.

He is amazing.

Legalize me!

Three weeks ago I had to go in for my "interview". The interview that is the final deciding factor as to whether or not I get to legally stay in Poland or if the country will politely ask me to leave on the next plane
 ( I think they actually pay for that plane ticket so I am keeping this in mind if I ever decide to jump ship).

I was a bit nervous about the interview because I wasn't exactly sure what to expect. I knew that most of the questions would be about my background, family, this sort of thing, and then later they would pretty much just ask Martin the same questions to see if we had our stories straight and were telling the truth. Easy. But then, you never know with these government types. And I was supposed to bring a translator. Even though the interviewer knows perfect English, he is supposed to conduct the interview in Polish with a translator so that everything can be exactly understood. Out of Martin's many English speaking cousins we strong armed his cousin Kamila into translating for us and she did a great job. Not good enough for the interviewer, but who cares. She was great. And she is such a lovely girl, that having her there really made me feel much more calm.

The only question that really caught me off guard was when he asked me "why I wanted to live in Poland".  Not the question itself, this is a perfectly reasonable and expected question to ask someone like me. In fact this is the first and only question he asked that wasn't a "yes" or "no" question or a list of required names and dates (btw - The Polish government now has the names and ages of all my living and deceased siblings - just thought I'd let all 9 of you know - poor guy - his head was about to explode) The reason it caught me off guard was because he asked me the question several times. Perhaps he just didn't understand my answer, or maybe he didn't believe me. But whatever the reason he kept asking me the question in different ways. It kind of made me uncomfortable. I get that moving from America to Poland  seems far fetched for some Poles. I get this question with some regularity from acquaintances, moms in the neighborhood, and their confused and incredulous stares after my explanation are not isolated incidents. Apparently one is mad to want to leave America. But that is, perhaps, a different post altogether, no?

So, in the end, he just looked at me and said, "looks good, you'll probably get a 2 year permit instead of the one year because of your circumstances, please send in your husband". From there I summoned Martin, who apparently spent 20 minutes talking American football with the guy (who loves it, watches it from his sports package cable and has no one else to talk to about it, which had basically been Martin's life in America, except with European football (soccer). I think they should be bff's.) before also commanding Martin to rattle off the many names and ages of my siblings, just to verify, and we all went out to the fancy Pizza Hut to celebrate it's koniec .

Two days alter I got the call... you're legal!

I went down and got my "decisja" in person a few days later and now I wait for my little card, with my picture, letting the whole world know that I am officially allowed to stay in Poland and in two years time, if all goes well, I can start pursuing my citizenship, without having to leave the country first , if I so desire.

Easy Peasy. It only took us a year to get around to it...

(It took us a long time. longer than it should have.  Moving to a new country has been exhausting and long work. We are still not completely "moved in" and pushing back things that were able to be pushed back, little by little, is one of the only ways we have been able to get everything done. Luckily this was one of those things.)

So... CHEERS! to all of you citizens of Poland who have so warmly welcomed me, to those of you who think I'm nuts for wanting to stay, and for those ex-pats who understand why!

In their own time

 When Hejjo turned 5 Martin and I bought him a bike. We were both really excited to get him riding independently and took him out the very next day, helmet strapped on, us guiding and cheering him from behind. Martin and I were fueled by our own happy memories of hours of bike riding with neighborhood friends. Hejjo, who had never really asked for a bike, was unsure what to do with it or how to begin, but he was a good sport and played along.

 It didn't take.

 For a few more months we tried every now and then but with no real results. He understood pedaling,  he could balance for a couple seconds at a time, but it in the end it was all pretty much a big falling over, crying, mess. The bike was put away, gathered a few cobwebs and then promptly sold upon our move here. He never learned to ride that bike.

It's a reoccurring theme with our children, and I suspect happens in other families as well. You have this great eagerness to introduce your child to those milestone moments. You can't wait to take the pictures, call the  grandparents, brag to your friends..."he did it!" And "it" is everything from eating those first solids, taking the first steps, learning to use the potty, reading his first word, and the list goes on. There are other things on that list that you know have to happen that you don't really look forward to. Figuring out how to wean the child with fewer tears, not catching them when they take those first steps, letting them struggle with a particularly hard word, when you could so easily read it for them. Throughout all of these moments and many more I have constantly had to ask myself, "is he ready... Am I pushing too hard... Am I being too easy on him... "When is the right time?!"

When I put all my energy into guiding them down a new path I have to navigate how much of what I want to happen is about me, and how much is about them. Is it the right time, or is it just me deciding "it's time?" I can't always tell the difference. Luckily, they can. Sure, there are moments where logic and being the authority take over and children need an outside force to show them the way, but in my experience, more often than not, if the path is open to them, they'll make their way down it soon enough. I just have to be reminded of that from time to time. The best part is, when you don't force them, when you wait for them to be ready, in their own time, the crying, the red faces, and the anxiety are replaced with broad smiles, cheers of joy, and a mutual feeling of real accomplishment. And a much sweeter memory.

This past Christmas the boys both received new bikes. A couple weeks ago it was finally dry enough and warm enough to pull them out and give it all a go. I prayed Hejjo wouldn't have such a hard time of it, knowing how much he truly wanted to be able to join the neighborhood boys on their bikes. An hour later, with no help from me, he had figured it out, all on his own. It took him a little longer than some, but he got there.

Not quite yet, Kacio.

Family visits

My mom and brother left yesterday after a visit with us. None of my family has ever been to Poland, so I was excited to show them where we live and what we see, hear, and smell on a daily basis. My family has always been  supportive of our move. They trust us, they have faith in us, and they want us to be happy. But that doesn't mean it's easy to have us live so far away. My mom would much rather have grubby hands with dandelion bunches handed to her personally than fresh cut flowers delivered by a stranger any day. So she came here and soaked it up as much as she could.

We took them to all the big sites in the Old Town and one or two outside the city. Martin recited the entire history of Krakow from start to finish along the way and the children supplied folk tales of dragons, princesses, and pigeons that used to be knights. We took them to our land and showed them where the house would be, our plans for the garden and the chicken coop. Our little path to the Church. Our excitement.

Reflecting back on their short and intense visit I am reminded again about how small the world is, and yet, so big, at the same time. Yes, Skype and email create this bubble where we can see and talk to each other every day. We can even attend birthday parties and baptisms, "in person," virtually. But visits across oceans, filling someone in on your life in such a  short time, and trying to show them why you are willing to be here and not there, willing to go through the hard for the wonderful,  can make the divide seem oh so big. I think they both came away with a better understanding, and some memories as well.

It was a blessing. And we are so thankful they were able to visit. God is good...