A month ago? Seems like a year! Funny, I don't think you can ever really prepare yourself for a move like this. You do the things you need to do and you keep checking them off your ever expanding list and that gets you through until...a month later and suddenly it hits you. This is no vacation. It's REAL. You live in FRANCE. And there is no going back.
Over the weekend we were making yet another sojourn to the land of giant stores (hey, just like home!) and our weekly trek to Ikea (the grand-daddy of time-sucks). We don't have a car (sold 'em) so we have to rent the biggest car we can get from the little rental car place up the street. It's a Ford station wagon. Not really so big by American standards but the largest one available here. Since we had to get rid of (give away) all of our appliances and lamps, we needed to replace them, STAT. Plus we have a big space to decorate in our kitchen area and we don't have any furniture for that, which is all coming in our big shipment on June 15 (that's another post entirely).
So, after spending waaaaaaay too much time (and $$) at Ikea, we had very little time to get the rest of the stuff we needed. And our little turnip, Elena, was getting grumpy and tired, which always makes shopping a bit more difficult. Scratch that, it makes it nearly impossible. So after a quick stop to Castorama (France's answer to Home Depot) I had a half an hour to dash into the big, scary hypermarket so we could run back and return the rental car before it turned into a pumpkin. E was sleeping so I took my first solo shopping trip in France. It didn't go well. I think I found like 3 things on my list, just barely. Granted it's an ENORMOUS store and would be hard to navigate, even if it was in the states. But I couldn't read the helpful signs above the aisles so I was really just winging it.
Many French stores have a small International section where you can get things like tortillas, salsas and soy sauce and Suzi Wan Puree de Piments (chili paste). You can also get traditional American faire like an exotic jar of PEANUT BUTTER. The last time we were there, I thought I'd spotted a jar of salad dressing, like Miracle Whip (hey, I'm from the South, we love our Miracle Whip). For some reason, I didn't grab it, so I was hoping to find it again. No such luck. And I just ran out of my favorite coffee condiment, Coffee Mate so I was hoping against hope to find that there, too. No go. And I have tried and tried to find a god damn cracker that E likes here. She loves Cheez-Its, Goldfish Crackers and the perennial fave, Pirate's Booty, but there is nothing here even remotely like any of them. I even Googled Cheez-Its and checked to see if there were any around here and it said something like, "Ha ha! No way, you stoopide American!" but I can't help but keep looking. I also wanted to get JC an ice-cream cake for our 5th wedding anniversary, which happened to be that day. JC loves ice cream cakes. I was so overwhelmed and pressed for time, I grabbed the only thing I could find: a Dora the Explorer cake. How romantic. It turns out it wasn't even ice cream. Then why was it in the freezer section!?! Or, more to the point, I need to learn to read.
And then, it happened. The moment I had been waiting for, the moment I knew would come eventually. I realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was very, very far away from home. It took everything I could do to keep from losing it then and there. The headlines would read, "Crazy American Woman has Nervous Breakdown in Store, Screaming 'I Just Want Coffee Mate and Cheez-Its!'"
I made it through the check-out, which was awkward at best and got back to the car, my sweet daughter sleeping peacefully in her carseat. And I thought, what have I done to you? What kind of mother do you have who can't find you the snacks you like, who can't even find her way around a freaking grocery store? I love to cook and I'm one of those weirdos who also likes to go grocery shopping. E and I spent many happy hours going up and down the aisles at my favorite Vons when she was a baby. She enjoyed being ogled by the sweet old ladies and I loved having her there, close in the cart, and taking much longer than needed to puruse the produce. It's harder to do that now of course, or it was, before we moved. But those will be some of my favorite memories of her babyhood. It was hard to think it would never be quite the same again and not just because she's older, but because we don't live in LA anymore.
So I had a big fat cry in the car ride back. Men are funny when a woman cries. JC kept asking me what was wrong and looked a little terrified. I didn't want to tell him or try to explain. I just wanted my Miracle Whip and Coffee Mate and Cheez-Its for my daughter and to not feel like my legs where sawed off, and not to feel so helpless, so unlike the powerful mommy, wife, woman I knew I used to be.
I don't think you can really digest the wholeness of a move like this. The entirety of it is possibly too beyond our grasp to truly understand or "process." That's a corny word but it kind of works here. So, what happens is you hold on to/freak out about the smaller things as a way to access what is really happening, meaning I've left my friends, my family, my mommy group, my acting life, my past life and my country and I'm here in this strange new world where I barely speak the language. I'm no therapist but that's my take on it. Like I said, I was anticipating the moment it would all hit me. I just never knew it would be over a jar of Miracle Whip.
Happy Anniversary!
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