Expat Mums Blog

• Shopping trolleys: why are they so hard?
  I've been living in the UK on and off since 1990. I have a British passport. My children were born here. I can make a roast that can compete with the best of them. Why the heck can't I steer a British shopping trolley? I am resigned to the fact that "things are harder here". When I first opened a bank account, I went to the branch where I lived....
  
  
• The rite of passage known as the tantrum
  A friend told me last week that she thought the rite of passage must be having your little one have a temper tantrum while walking down Oxford Street and having everyone stare at you in disdain. Another friend said that the rite of passage is the inaugural supermarket tantrum. Did you see The Exorcist, she asks me. She goes on to describe a scene where her little cherub starts throwing...
  
  
• From a successful business career to expat mum in one plane ride!
  Yes that is what it took 12 hours in a plane from London to Cayman Islands and my life changed completely. Sometimes we think big decisions in life take time to take and you need to think and think pros and cons, evaluate, re-evaluate and then when you are 100% sure you make the move. Well actually that is not my case and if i start thinking back to the...
  
  
• Becoming Bosnian, Staying English
  Signs we have been in Bosnia for a loooong time and there may be some readjustment required before entry back into the UK: 1. When the traffic lights go green, my first instinct is now to hoot the horn, then to put the car in gear. 2. Pedestrians, what are they? (in my defence, if you take the definition of safe driving to be driving in a way that people...
  
  
• Pardon?
  I first came to the UK in 1990 for a study abroad programme in Bath. I was a journalism student and had never been outside the US except for a trip to Niagara Falls when I was a kid and the obligatory Tijuana bar hopping over the border in college. I thought living in the UK would be an adventure. I was placed with a family with two girls; an...
  
  
• The frog curses
  I had not planned on teaching my 21-month old daughter how to curse. What kind of role model would I be? I don't even curse! Blame the frog, it only wanted to be heard. REE-BIT. Yesterday was like any other morning, I woke up early and made coffee while Beli and my husband slept. Caught up on some reading, blogs, etc. Then Beli woke up and wanted to draw, one...
  
  
• Accidentally Causing Offence
  Why is it th at when learning a new language, the only words that are easily remembered are the swear words? Which means of course that you are left with a load of ways to be rude to people, admittedly helpful whilst driving in Bosnia but not ideal when you are trying to exchange pleasantries and ingratiate yourself into the nursery gate club. The thing that I have noticed is...
  
  
• It IS a small world after all
  It turns out that two of our favourite Brit expats in America have recently discovered that not only do they have similar experiences getting used to life in the US midwest but they have met before, a little while ago. They recently published posts talking of this coincidence that neatly demonstrates the smallness of the world. Both posts are reproduced here, complete with photos of some very young bloggers-to-be. First...
  
  
• Lady Marmalade
  This was my second marmalade season. Last year I was amazed and beguiled by the ease of making home-made marmalade. My first attempt was a triumphant success. I put oranges, sugar and water into the pot - stirred a few times in between feeding and changing the baby - and a few hours later I had a crisp, tangy, jewel-coloured jelly that set like a dream. Like gelatinous sunshine in...
  
  
• Home is where the heart is -- but where's your heart
  “Don’t you ever miss home?” an old friend asked me on Facebook a few days ago. She was referring to Sardinia, the Italian island where I was born and lived until the age of 17. More specifically, she was referring to Nuoro, the “city” so small it is barely a city at all – more of a town, really – where we all lived, went to school, met in the...