I left Grief behind at Ataturk airport on 12th September 2016. He was not welcome at the doors of our new apartment. That night, at 9pm (with a 3 hour time difference) my weary family (and screaming baby) struggled up 3 flights of stairs to our new apartment. We were greeted by the friendly faces of friends who nodded understandingly as we fumbled our way into the salon filled with boxes. I will never forget that first night. 12 suitcases. Sticky contact lenses. Overtired children. We had unintentionally landed on a bayram in Turkey - a religious holiday so everything took hours at the airport. I will never forget holding my yelling babe on my lap in the airport taxi as my mum calmly informed me that she thought we were going over the edge of a narrow road in our neighbourhood, into a ditch. I equally calmly (unlikely!) told her to close her eyes and pray! Needless to say Istanbullus are epic drivers and said ditch was skillfully avoided without so much as a cursory glance from our driver. Water was hastily drunk and pyjamas found and we tried to settle into our new beds. That first night was very very long. And to be honest, pretty awful. But it's not awful anymore. We are settling. We are enjoying living here. Over the last 3 and half months we have adjusted slowly to apartment living. I have adjusted to apartment parenting! To not having the convenience of a car. To having to carry a toddler, baby, buggy and shopping up 3 flights of stairs. I battled the temptation to compare. Oh beware, friends, the comparison game that kills all joy. I wanted to compare motherhood in the UK in comparison to here. No playgroups. No car seats. A good friend visited us in November. He has 4 kids. He gets it. He told me that for every challenge comes a blessing. How right he was. When I get to the top of the stairs I thank God for the amazing view that is ours. Don't get this in Yorkshire! Another friend messaged me recently and told me to pray whilst tackling the stairs instead of complaining. I'm working on that. For the sake of keeping joy, we focus on what we do have not what we don't. As a mum I look to what does work for me and not what used to work in another completely different context. And I lower my expectations. I can't get everyone up and down from my apartment safely on my own. So unless I have my husband or mum to help, I don't. We stay in. And paint. Play with coloured rice. Bake. I know my sons will have a great childhood here. It will be different from the one they had in the UK. And dare I say it, some parts will be all the better for it. Let's take Christmas for example. I cannot tell you how precious Christmas was here. Some parts of it felt 'normal' because we were able to normalise with the appropriate paraphernalia. Certain things were available like Christmas trees and decorations, certain chocolates that you can stick on your face (they shall remain nameless) and of course the internet made purchases, films and music readily available to satisfy our every festive whim. Having said this howeverr, now I think about it, 'Home Alone' did not make it on once. Perhaps it's not too late to rectify this....Anyway. Being abroad meant we could start from scratch with Christmas- it truly is the most wonderful time of the year. We could create our own traditions. I could buy my kids the gifts I wanted not the ones (or the amount!) that capitalism deemed appropriate. Being away from all the adverts, special offers and sales meant that Christmas this year, aside from not being with the dear family and friends that we love, one of the best yet. Carols, games, gifts, food, friends. Yes but what did I miss the most I hear you ask? The cheese. Oh the cheese.
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AuthorBHK, a wife, a mother, believer. Loves to swim, journal, create fantastic Shellac nails, shop and eat chocolate. Negotiating life, parenthood and community in Istanbul. Archives
December 2016
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