We're home, had a great time, and R&R is a lie.

You know you've had a good trip when just enough things went wrong (or, to put a positive spin on it, differently than you'd expect) to make some great stories, and just enough things went right that everyone was happy.

Take, for example, our car rental.  Started bad, ended bad, traveled bad, but in between was a fine little car that got us everywhere we wanted to be.  Do not, I repeat DO NOT, rent a car from Green Motion in the UK, and especially not from the Holiday Inn off the M4 at Heathrow.  Just don't do it.  From the moment you stop you're considered an inconvenience and the hostility that rolls out of their shop is palpable.

Wait let me go back a bit.

I made the reservation through some generic site like booking.com, or maybe it was expedia.com.  Doesn't matter.  Anyway, rented it through a no-name place and reserved a car off-airport at ACE car rental because it saved a couple hundred pounds.  There's the Hoppa bus service from the airport to a number of hotels and it all worked out, only to find that ACE car rental was no longer at that hotel and hadn't been for at least a year.  Now, I'd made the booking in May, a mere two months before the trip, so that was, well... odd.  Had the desk folks call the number on my reservation sheet and then Ian talked to them and had to convince them to come pick us up. Oh, and ACE car rental was no more and we were actually dealing with yet another party, the aforementioned Green Motion. They figured it wasn't their problem that the reservation had been sold to them with no updates sent to us about where they were actually located.

Fast forward, they picked us up and brought us to their counter.  Our car for "7 people + 4 bags" was a joke.  If we'd had 7 people we could have fit 2 carry-ons.  With 6 people we were lucky we only brought one real suitcase and the rest were carry-ons.  Even with that Jonathon alone in the third row had no room to move.  Apparently it's a law with Green Motion that the trunk cover (you know, those things that you pull over to cover up what's in the trunk) is a must for every car, so even though we couldn't use it because suitcases were stacked on each other and on people, we had to cart the cover around with us too.  Careful not to close the trunk and shatter the glass with the bar that went from Jonathon's feet to the back of the vehicle, we managed to cram everyone in.  I get that cars in the UK are small, but there's a little deception going on with the claims of how much they can carry.

We were going to Ireland.  There was no where on the reservation request to put anything about our travel plans and we learned going to Ireland was a no-no without hundreds of pounds of added fees.  We changed our plans and decided right there in the office we weren't going to Ireland.

It's OK though, they nickel and dimed us so much on the rental fees that weren't listed in the flat rate that I'm surprised we could even afford to take it off the lot at all.

We needed a GPS.  What an annoyance to customer service.  I didn't reserve one beforehand, it wasn't an option on the website.  They gave us a TomTom and we quickly discovered as we pulled out of the lot it didn't work.  After finding our way back to the rental office they exchanged it for a Garmin which saved us the rest of the trip. The Garmin was our very best friend, and while it took us on cow paths and past fertilizer plants and around hairpin turns, it eventually always brought us to our destination.  We loved little Garmin to the fullest extent one can love a canned British voice that literally guided us through the days.

I kid you not, from the time we got to the wrong hotel to the time we finally drove off with the car 90 minutes passed.  From here on out... Enterprise at the airport.  Or Avis.  Or Hertz.  One of those awesome places where you show them a credit card and they hand you a key and off you go.

Ian managed the right-side manual drive like a pro.  We stalled, we got stuck along tiny roads after pulling off to let tour buses fly by on roads not big enough for two cars, but through it all he kept his cool.  Even after he sprained his ankle he kept it together and got us safely to each destination.  He's a rock star.

Two and a half weeks later we returned the car to Green Motion.  Just as frustrating, just as unpleasant.

The guy checking in cars was essentially annoyed that we were there.  Hey, you know those marks that get left on a wall when you bump into it, say, with a shoe, or a suitcase, or the vacuum?  Yeah, those.  This guy found 2 of those on the rear bumper and one slightly larger rub (not a scrape, not a scratch, like from a tire or something else), and the office took the full 1000 Pound liability off our card in anticipation of what the body shop will require to "fix" it all up.

Hand me a buffer, I'll do it.

This was one on my big screw-ups on our trip.  Renting through a no-name to save a couple bucks and spending far far more time and money than any other place would have required.  Waste of time, waste of money, I cried over this.  It wasn't a good start to our time in the UK, that's for sure.

And my own wish.  I wish I knew how to drive a stick shift.  I need to know how to drive a stick shift.  My husband should not have had to drive 8 hours with a busted ankle because I didn't know how the car worked.  What if his leg had broken instead? What if something worse? What if what if what if?

Anyone in Amman want to teach me how to drive?

My daily grind has changed for the better.

I was asked the other day by a Jordanian friend of one of my daughters if I liked Jordan.  I told her unequivocally Yes.  I really like Jordan.  I like the way the sun hits the buildings at sunset.  How blue the sky is.  The coolness of the evenings.  The food, the people, the camels, and the hills.  The steady breeze.  Did I mention the food?  The Jordanians are nice people, except when behind the wheel.  That seems to be a generalization for much of the world though.

In addition, I like my job.  I like the people I work with and the people I see every day.  And I'm going to be painfully honest here:  I like how my days don't revolve solely around my kids anymore.

See, for the past 17 years (yes... 17 years) I've stayed home.  OK, so for the first few months of Katherine's life I was also in Graduate school.. but I quit to be a full-time mom.  And then I had that year as a part-timer in the Consular section in Chennai where I really felt like a fish out of water and was home at noon most days.  At that point I still dropped everything the second a kid needed anything.

And that's the way it was supposed to be.  Katherine wasn't even a teen yet, Jonathon was in 2nd grade. I wouldn't change a thing.

But now, Katherine is 17 and a rising senior in HS.  Jonathon is heading into 7th grade.  If they get home from school at 4 and I'm not home until 6, it's really OK.  If they need anything I'm 5 minutes away, or they'll come to the Embassy themselves.  I'm OK working full-time in Jordan because the kids are ready for it.  Oh sure I hear "You quit taking care of us" and I'm pretty sure they're joking, but at the same time I think they're adjusting too.  I'll leave them texts to start dinner or do chores.  And though I tried to hire a housekeeper (we'll keep looking), I think we're doing OK without one.  For now.  Even with the piles of clean laundry that have become a semi-permanent addition to our den floor.  Or the dishes that get washed twice a week.  That part is actually fine as we're only eating at home a couple times a week at this point.  All eating together has become so rare that when it happens, like tonight, it's something special.

Part of this is summer vacation and the kids are busy with their friends.  Part is that I'm just now getting into the rhythm of my job (only to have it torn apart again when we go on R&R, I know).

When we get back from our trip things will change.  When school starts up things will change again.  And we'll roll with all of it.

Because I am, how do you say it... "letting go."  At heart I'm a control freak based on my own abilities.  X minutes to complete Y task... why aren't you done yet?  It's time to do A, stop doing B.  Where are you, who are you with, what are you doing, when are you coming home?  OK, those ones I still do.  But at the same time I'm less stringent when things that I feel matter, or should matter, don't really matter.  Does that make sense?  I'm recognizing, painfully at times, that while I think something should go a certain way, the rest of the world doesn't necessarily see it that way, including my husband.

See, I'm an only child and for most of my life I had my thoughts and beliefs about life and the way to live it with no one to argue them.  They were what they were.  Then, about 10 years ago, after 7 years of marriage (can you say Slow Learner?) I had a rough time when I realized the world absolutely did not revolve around me, and if I didn't come to grips with that I was going to lose quite a bit.  I did come to grips and was happy again.  Score one for a solid marriage to a guy who puts up with more than his fair share of craziness from me.

Then I had teenagers. Cue the ramped up craziness machine: I fought and cried and spent many many hours telling myself how right I was and how wrong and blind the rest of my family and the world was.  Teenagers are tough, but that doesn't erase the fact that I was wrong.  They are their own people and I am still their parent, but at the same time... just because I would want or do C, D, or F, choosing something else isn't necessarily bad.

My husband has been a great eye-opener for me.  He is a spectacular diplomat both at work and at home.  As I try to tame the teen beasts to fit my mold, he recognizes they have their own molds to make and fill.  I have to trust that what they hear from us, what they see from us, what they know from the past 11-17 years has made its way into their heads.  The hard part is when all that works... and they still choose the wrong path and make their mistakes.  We also encourage our kids to stand up for themselves against any person when they see something they believe is unfair or inequitable.  Each one is progressing at their own speed in that regards.  Becca has earned the respect of her school administrator for her tenacity.  Nicholas has dealt with friend issues at school in ways well beyond his years.  They're growing up and molding their inner selves.

And then it bites us in the butt when they argue a grievance against us.  Us!  The people they are supposed to follow without question!  Only that's ridiculous, right?  Who wants sheep as children?  These children are growing up fast.  Katherine will be leaving home next year and I certainly don't want her to a be a sheep in the next stage of her life.  I do want her to weigh the right and the wrong, see different angles of an argument, learn to argue better not louder.  And you can't do that with sheep.  You have to engage them and work with them to argue and make their point and support their side.  As a parent I can still say No.  That's a perk.

It sounds like I have this figured out.  I don't.  But what I do know now is that micromanaging my kids once they hit a certain stage doesn't work.  Nicholas is 13 and made an argument for letting him decide when to go to bed, even during the school week!  In my gut I know he needs a lot of sleep and that he should be in bed by a certain time and I simply didn't want to leave it up to him.  But he convinced me in a rational and calm argument that he should decide when he'd go to bed.  I think the big thing here is that he brought it up as an option, supported his case, and I had two choices: impose my will "knowing" that I was right, or letting him try and let it play out.  It's a good thing he knows he needs a lot of sleep too, and he's done a great job of managing himself.

I still tell Jonathon when to go to bed.

I'd like to think that an important part of watching kids grow up is growing up yourself.  These people who are not little anymore are their own selves.  It's hard to watch some days, and other days it makes me smile.  I love to watch them do things they really enjoy, and I need to tell them that more.  I need to release more responsibilities to them with the understanding it won't get done the way I'd do it but it would still be done.

I like that I have a job because it's showing them that they can do what they need to do.

I haven't "stopped taking care of them," I'm just doing it a different way now.  Do my kids need me?  Of course.  They call me at work, they come by the office, they're home when we get home.  I get texts all the time.  Usually it's of the nature "Where is...?" but how is that any different than if I was home?

"Hey mom, where are my pants?"

Yeah, I've heard that a billion times and I don't know the answer any better from home than I do at the office, so all is still equal.

So yeah.  Life settling into a totally different "grind."  The grocery store, a place I used to visit a couple times a week, is probably wondering where I've disappeared to.  The Oasis Club I see every day.  I forget to fill the car with gas until the light comes on, but my water bottle is never empty.  The laundry takes forever as do the dishes, but my day planner and desk calendar are full and the kids are generally happy and last I looked they weren't breaking anything.

Except, well, this:



Totally not my fault.  He was at school.  He fell.  Would have happened anyway.  Right?  Bummer he'll have it over our entire vacation, but at least our hospital here is close by for checkups.

We also did this, which totally wasn't the same night.

It wasn't, I promise!

Check out beitsittijo.com if you're curious about a local program to make and eat a traditional dish with a bunch of friends.  We had a group of 13 in addition to a British bunch at the other end of the table.  I can't give you directions as we got lost both getting there and getting home even without me driving, but it's a fun evening out if you can find it.  It doesn't exactly overlook the Citadel but the Citadel is nearby and beautifully lit up as you drive around, lost and annoyed.

No, that's too harsh.  There was a lot of laughter in the car as we drove in circles, down a one-way road the wrong way... we were following another Embassy car that time into oncoming traffic... and made additional wrong turns at intersections we actually did know.  Did we ever make it home?

Of course.  And my fabulous husband from way back in the 3rd row did not mock us audibly once, the driver and navigator, as we meandered our way home.  If that's not love, I don't know what is.

So here we are, living a very different daily life than we did a year ago.

And I think we're doing OK.