Where do I start?

Sadly, months of bad blogging mean that I almost don't know where to start. I could start with the birth of Caleb, as that's where I left off. But who really wants to hear birthing stories? If you're about to have a baby, it isn't particularly inspiring. If you've had a baby, you likely aren't interested in dredging up the details. If you're in no mind to think about having babies, it is all the wierd, shocking and graphic details of someone else's problem. So, I won't start there.

Rather, I will start with my first day alone with Anna and Caleb. The day of reckoning where my kids outnumber me and I am without teammate Ange. This day came 3 weeks after Caleb's birth. Angela, despite having gone through the graphic details I have left out above, was heading back in to her school to attend an 'Old Girls Day.' Armed with 25 ounces of expressed milk, 4 sterilized bottles and invaluable experience of bringing up Anna, I was charged up for 7 hours of quality Saturday time with Anna and Caleb.

As it turned out, this Saturday in early May turned out to be summer. Nearly all of it, in fact. The weather this summer has been wet and cool. For everyone not from Vancouver: just like Vancouver. For everyone from Vancouver, it wasn't anything like Vancouver would normally be, if not for it having been the wettest 11 weeks in the last century. On this day, all that mattered was that it was warm. Even hot. Spying my opportunity, I took advantage of Ange not being part of the shopping equation (and therefore veto-ing ridiculous, frivolous purchases), I immediately piled the kids into the car and drove directly to Toys'R'Us. I found the cheapest possible wading pool, confirmed its suitability with Anna (it got the okay because Tigger and Pooh were on the side), and bought the tiny pool. Ange hadn't been gone 45 minutes and I was back in the garden with Anna filling the pool with water. Within 90 minutes of Ange being gone, we had a full pool, Anna lathered in sun screen, towels strewn across the garden, Caleb sleeping contently in the moses basket in the shade, and I was kicking back my second cup of coffee.

The day went well. Caleb basically ate all day, cleaning off the 25 ounces of expressed milk before rejecting my offers of formula out of hand. Anna was in and out of the pool, but the overwhelmingly most enjoyable game actually involved removing the water from the pool onto the garden decking. The pool supposedly held 240 L of water. Though not efficiently, Anna must have managed to remove about 200 L of water by the end of the day. It's funny what entertains, but I was in no position to complain. I think Ange was a little surprised to come home to a beach party and certainly questioned the pool investment. But in the end, it has to be one of the most enjoyable days I've had since arriving.

The British Social Season
Part of being a foreigner is that you try a whole lot harder than the locals. Case and point: Angela Dudek. Ange caught on to the fact the most of the British aristocratic prestige events now allow a few commoners entry as lip-service to the end of classism in the UK. Well, they may have got more than they bargained for this summer. Ange discovered that Johnny-commoner can, in almost all instances, put their name in a lottery to get a ticket to these special events. So, we were entered for everything. And hooray! We managed to get excellent tickets to Wimbledon on the final day. Not at Centre Court, but the atmosphere was gold and it was a fantastic day at he All England Tennis Club. We also attended the Queen's Garden Party at Buckingham Palace. That's a blog in itself. We got ourselves down to Henley for the Regatta. And then, as a bonus, we got tickets to Wembley to see England play football (soccer) and I got to go to Twickenham to see England play the Barbarians in rugby. That's all very English for us colonists!

The big decision
In what can only be described as one of the toughest decisions we've faced in years, Ange and I took a long hard look at our situation here in the UK. We've got family and friends here. Anna is in a great nursery. We've got good jobs. But...

The big but.

The big but landed us with, at least, looking at jobs back in Canada. And, we found them. Very good jobs, in fact. The only thing is: they're in Vancouver. Now those who know me, know that I don't love Vancouver. Besides having a shocking hockey team, the city does my head in. The traffic is appalling. The cost of housing is stupid. The weather is rubbish.

However, and most importantly, we have family and friends in the immediate vicinity. Indeed, we two set of grandparents and some of our oldest and closest friends in the city. We have good jobs. Hell, we have bank accounts set up in Canada and don't need to worry about visas to live there. It's a giant decision to go back to Canada. It's just as big a decision to choose Vancouver over Calgary. But we've made it because of the people. And, quite honestly, we're super excited to be around these people.

When it comes to Vancouver, people can talk about skiing and sailing in the same day: pants because no one ever does it. They can talk about the Olympics: at least we can stop talking about Expo. They can talk about the weather: oh, how we'll discuss the rain. It doesn't make any difference. You can see ancient castles and cathedrals in Reading. They have the Reading Festival every year. The weather is reliably as wet, overcast and temperate as Vancouver. Critically, we've only got a couple of really close friends here. Our friends and family are just too far away for regular visits. We're excited to come to Vancouver because of the people (just as we'll be sad to say goodbye to our friends and family here in the UK and how disappointed we are that our friends in Calgary won't be closer).

An couple of examples of the sort of thing that will have us sad to leave:

International moves
So, we prepare for another international move with an infant. This time we can throw in a toddler for good measure. We're expecting to arrive in Vancouver some time in mid October, giving us about 4 weeks to organise the move and shut down everything here. We've got to sell two cars (anyone know someone interested in a 2003 Toyota Corolla?), ship our belongings, cancel dozens of services, maximise our English Heritage passes, see family in Norfolk, London and Dorset, see friends in London and Southampton, pack our things, buy our tickets home, and finish up at our jobs.

In usual Fitch-Dudek fashion, we'll throw in a couple of twists to make it truly interesting. Ange and Anna's visa runs out on 19 September. So, we've got to leave the country to have them re-enter on a different visa: chuck in a trip to Paris for the weekend to facilitate that. Caleb was born here and we have our church community. Let's kick in a baptism at our church (happily, finalized today) for the 28th of September. Then, because I want to, we're heading off to France for the first two weeks of October to have a holiday. You know, relax, kick back and soak in European culture, coffee and wine.

So, there you go. Check back soon. I promise that in amongst the chaos, there's bound to be a story or two to tell.