Little Britons

My good friend Nota Bene asks in an email how the Littleboys are settling into their new environment - and I realise, I haven't really said much about them in the blog since our arrival here.

It's partly because it's difficult to pinpoint what impact the move has really had on them, although there is no doubt that it must have been unsettling. At first, I think they thought we were just on holiday, doing the sorts of things we do on holiday; staying with other people, going to beaches and swimming pools, nights in hotels. Perhaps their parents seemed a little stressed and preoccupied (the result of trying to co-ordinate a new life here with the remaining admin of our London house, via email), but they didn't seem to notice. In fact, they seemed completely overexcited, refusing to go to bed before about 10pm (the legacy of which still lingers now) and behaving pretty appallingly at any given opportunity.

Then we moved into our new house. A month later, Littleboy 1 still refers to 'our new house' and 'our new garden', and, when out, constantly asks whether we are coming back here, so I think he must need some reassurance that we are not moving again. Littleboy 2, meanwhile, has been heard to ask 'we going back to our room now?', meaning, I think, hotel room. And we do get the occasional question about London, and wistful mention of their nursery.

However, there is plenty for them to like about their new environment - whereas at home our regular morning outing might have been to Clapham Common or Dulwich Park with their scooters, here a morning's jaunt is usually the town beach or swimming pool. In fact most of their activities seem to involve water; any hot afternoon sees a trip to the playground around the corner, which has excellent, although shockingly un-eco friendly, water-fountains built specifically for kids to splash in (there are even buckets which fill and tip over their heads - great fun for them, not so good if you happen to be standing nearby, not in a swimsuit...). Going out for an early evening meal with Mummy and Daddy is also new for them - it seems far more common here to take kids to eat out in the evening, so we are taking advantage of this and sampling some of the local pizza parlours.

America has added a few new words to their vocabulary. "Schoolbus!" yells Littleboy 2 in delight every time a big yellow bus passes us on the street, which, during term time, was every two minutes. Littleboy 1 was very excited to hear that he, too, will be travelling on the schoolbus in a year's time. (American schoolbuses are fabulous. The design is a classic, and makes me think of Peanuts. And they are so ultra-important here that, if you overtake a stopped one in your driving test, you fail). Littleboy 1, meanwhile has discovered waves and surf, ice in drinks (a great ruse for diluting juice, I find) and hot dogs, his new favourite food.

My Little Britons have also caused quite a stir in our locale, riding their micro-scooters around the town. Micro-scooters seem to have made it to Brooklyn, but not to Long Island, so they are quite a novelty here. They attract many stares and comments - mostly of the 'Ooh, aren't they just the cutest thing?' variety, although some people have looked pretty horrified at the sight of two toddlers on wheels going full pelt down Main Street.

Since coming here, I have also been asked about five times a day whether they are twins. This is most odd, as not once was I asked this question in the UK. They are actually 19 months apart, and while both blond, one is clearly bigger than the other and they don't look particularly alike. Perhaps it's the fact that they are very much a 'double act', doing everything together - I'm sure they have grown a lot closer since the move, as they have been thrown together so much. Still, I get the impression that Littleboy 1 in particular is desperate for friends. Although we have been on a couple of 'playdates', so far, he doesn't have anyone he can call a friend. When the other night we met some neighbours who, usefully, also have a four -year-old boy, he practically threw himself on the child and demanded to play with him straight away.

To this end, and so that I can make some attempt to pretend to have a career, I have registered them both for a pre-Kindergarten, four mornings a week starting in September. When we looked around, they ran straight in and began enthusiastically joining in with the class as if they'd been there for years, so I knew it was the right move.

So it's two months of summer with me, before they get their first real taste of American children (and no doubt will begin to adopt the accent too). And, although they drive me to distraction sometimes, I'm enjoying their company - after all, I have yet to make any real friends yet here either. After all, there are worse ways to spend the summer than paddling in the sea, building sandcastles and eating ice cream by the duckpond, which is what my life pretty well consists of these days. Still, later on today we are off to a playdate with lots of other 'moms', so maybe we'll all make some friends....

Fourth of July celebration

While the rest of America was out celebrating Independence Day last weekend, we had our own little celebration in the Nappy Valley household; our shipment finally arrived from the UK.

I never thought I would be so pleased to see such prosaic items as sheets, towels, pots and pans, let alone my coffee table, carpet and writing desk. Knowing that such things were coming, we have been living without a few of the kitchen essentials. Not exactly being a paean of domesticity, I can safely say that I never imagined being pleased to see my cheese grater or my tin opener. But after four weeks of trying to ram holes in cans of tuna with The Doctor's penknife and nearly stabbing myself, I was overjoyed. He, meanwhile, spent a happy morning watching Wimbledon while happily unpacking his boxes of computer equipment, wires and boxes of software.

The Littleboys were suitably delighted to see their toys and books. I am optimistically hoping that the arrival of several tonnes of Lego will mean that they spend slightly less of their time at home glued to Noggin (strapline " it's like preschool on TV". Er, yes, if preschool consisted of semi-educational cartoons with insanely annoying and repetitive songs)*.

Our family photographs and a few paintings from home now adorn the house, giving it the feel of an uncanny fusion of our old and new homes. And our coats and scarves are hanging in the closets ready for the icy Long Island winter, although at the moment it seems hard to believe we will ever need them here.

We celebrated this momentous occasion with a trip to the beach at a State Park, which was packed with daytrippers from NYC. Everyone produces the most incredible amount of equipment; massive iceboxes, beach umbrellas and chair, drag-along carts full of beach gear, whole Weber barbecues. Back home, you might have taken along a bucket, spade and a beach towel and possibly a couple of sandwiches wrapped in foil. Mind you, we have already conceded to the American way and purchased the beach umbrella and icebox, managing to fill the rather capacious boot of our car quite easily.

Back home, we ate barbecued ribs and hot dogs on the porch, and watched the Manhattan fireworks on TV, to a soundtrack of patriotic American songs.

I think perhaps we are becoming indoctrinated.....


*Actually I am being slightly too mean about Noggin (which is part of the Nickelodeon stable). It's a lot better than I was expecting from American kids' TV, it's ad-free and bears some resemblance to CBeebies. I even find myself singing along to some of the surprisingly catchy songs sung by a cartoon Moose who sounds a bit like Jack Johnson. I think perhaps I need to get back to work....

Carnival time (with raccoon digression)

Quick wildlife update - I saw a raccoon in the garden last night! Now, I realise that this is probably the equivalent of seeing a fox in London (an almost daily occurrence in our Nappy Valley street) but I found it pretty damn exciting. A raccoon, to me, is a real wild animal. No matter that it had tried to nibble my rubbish bag, left outside the back door for about ten seconds en route to the wheelie bin. It had flashing black eyes, a pert little face and was fluffy-toy cute.

The Doctor was out (at a compulsory learner drivers' course - of which more later) and I had no-one to tell, except Littleboy 1, who was still up but didn't understand what a racccon was, until I showed him a picture of one online. I think he probably thought Mummy had gone nuts, babbling about wild animals and showing him pictures on the laptop. My only other option was to sit down and write an 'OhMyGod' style email to my sister - who probably also now thinks I have gone stark raving mad.

Anyway, I digress. Being a bona fide expat now, I have joined the hallowed ranks of the Expat Mums Blog, and am taking part in their blogging carnival today. Take a look here, and you'll find a whole host of fascinating posts, from parents spread far across the world, from Budapest to Laos. Enjoy.

American quote(s) of the week

Overheard by The Doctor on the train yesterday:

Commuter: "So, what are you doing for the Fourth of July weekend?"

Fellow commuter: "Well...let's see. Friday, I think we're going to some barbecue. But I don't know what time. Saturday, I think there's another barbecue. I'm not sure what time or anything. And Sunday....well, let's see, I think we might be going to a barbecue."

Other than watching fireworks, is there any other Fourth of July activity? I think we had better buy some more charcoal....

***********

We are also enjoying the coverage of Wimbledon on US television. The NBC opening credits are especially great - shots of Big Ben, the Queen and the Tower of London. Then split screen shots of the players reminiscent of 'Dallas'. Every time they show Andy Murray they play that Brian May guitar riff on "God save the Queen'.

It's also refreshingly irreverent. Take the closing of the Centre Court roof, yesterday. As the roof slowly closed over, we could just imagine that back home on the BBC John Lloyd or someone would be intoning about a 'historic moment'. The US comment? "Hey, this is weirdly exciting!" followed by "well, you know it doesn't look you're inside at all - it's not like being in a giant Costco or something."

I'm sure the poker-faced officials at the Lawn Tennis Association are relieved about that.....

My family and other animals

One thing that has really surprised me here is the amount of wildlife, considering the fact that we are only 20 miles or so from New York City.

I don't mean that we have large mammals gambolling through the garden, although we do seem to have an unusually high number of fat squirrels. There is also a beautiful red parakeet-type bird that I have yet to identify, which is a bit more exciting than sparrows when you are staring out of the kitchen window doing the washing-up.

But Long Island being a good few degrees warmer than the UK, and a lot more wooded, means that we have an exotic insect population. For example, the other day I completely freaked out in the car when I realised that the faint tickling on my wrist was a simply enormous winged black creature. The Doctor thinks it may have been some kind of moth, but all I know is that it looked like a miniature version of a Doctor Who monster. It promptly disappeared down the side of my seat, only to re-emerge on my leg a minute or so later. At this point we had to stop the car and try to evict it, because The Doctor was not prepared to drive with me screaming out suddenly every few minutes. The wretched thing was now, of course, nowhere to be seen.

Then there are the mosquitoes. Every time I walk down the drive one of the little buggers comes to nibble me, and, following our neighbour's example, I have become paranoid about not leaving the porch door open at dusk. Littleboy 2 has obviously got this message. "Mummy, where are the scooters?" he asked the other day, staring out of the window. Darn, I thought, he's finally clicked that their mini-scooters aren't here - they, along with the rest of our shipment, have yet to arrive. It was only when Littleboy 1 started talking about 'scooter bites' later that I realised he meant the mosquitoes.

However, there is 'good' wildlife too. The fireflies glowing in the garden as we sit having supper. The rabbit that bounded right past the Littleboys as they played in a local playground. And the huge live hermit crabs we found on the beach yesterday, attracting a little crowd of fascinated kids. (On closer observation, the boys in the group just wanted to look at the underside of the crabs, while the girls wanted them to be killed or tortured.)

But there is one thing we don't (yet) appear to have. I nearly screamed the other day when The Doctor announced something from the kitchen; what I heard was "we have mice". Mice, the bane of my life in London - surely I should have known we couldn't escape from them. But no....he repeated, "We have ice". Yes, our great big American fridge/freezer makes industrial quantities of the stuff at the flick of a switch, as he had just discovered. So, lovely iced drinks and no rodents. Hurrah.

American question of the week

Before I get on to my latest question about America, readers of the last post might be interested to know that I have now established that I CAN get a permit to work, AND a social security number. Although it might take months and months to come. But there is light at the end of the legal alien tunnel. In other news, The Doctor took the theory part of the driving test, and passed with 100%. Half the questions were related to drink-driving and the others involved recognising road signs such as 'Stop'. I'm glad they ask people to recognise that one.

Now, onto more pressing matters. My question this week concerns basketball hoops....

1) Why do so many American homes have a basketball hoop in the yard? I mean, it's not just the odd one. It's as if you were driving along the road in Britain and every garden had a soccer goal in it, or a cricket pitch. It's just SO ubiquitous I have to ask. And in the spirit of the driving test, I'm going to allow a multiple choice answer.

Is it

a) Because all Americans love basketball, simple as that?
b) A sort of middle class emblem; a sign that you are a normal family with some kids, 2 and a half cars, and a big enough house to erect a basketball hoop outside?
c) Because people put them up in the hope that their sons will grow to be 6ft professional basketball players?
d) A discreet sign that you are a member of some kind of cult? (a bit like Pampas grass in a front garden is supposed to signify that people are swingers. According to my friend Peter, that is).
e) None of the above?

Answers from non-Americans and non-expats also welcome.....

Enough to drive you crazy

As outlined in my previous post, driving is an absolute prerequisite for living in the US. (Quote of the week; local lady, when I told her that I lived just behind the library, which is great and has loads of kids' activities: "Wow. I mean, you could even WALK there.")

So you would have thought it might be pretty easy to get a driving licence and purchase a car, yes?

Er, wrong. Acquiring a car has been one our biggest headaches since our arrival in the USA. It all stems from the bigger problem of not having a social security number, which has cast us adrift in a sea of bureaucracy, forms, emails from over-zealous types and inability to pay for things due to lack of ID.

It looked so easy. The plan was, we would arrive here and buy the car of a guy from The Doctor's new workplace who would soon be leaving to go back to Europe.

But, as we discovered on arrival in the US, if you don't have a social security number, you basically can't do anything. It made buying a car nigh on impossible, as to get insurance you need a New York State driving licence, and to even apply for the licence you need the social security number.

The Doctor dutifully went down to Social Services in Brooklyn just a few days after our arrival. He queued for three hours in the kind of place that has notices up saying "It is an offence to kill a federal employee" (so does that mean it's OK kill someone else? we wondered). When he reached the head of the queue, sorry, line, he was told he had not even been activated on the system yet by the visa people, so couldn't even start to apply.

Not having the number had all sorts of interesting implications. It has been virtually impossible to do anything over the phone, including topping up a pay as you go mobile and registering the utilities for our house in our name (this required an in-person visit to their offices).

We soon realised that it would be weeks, if not months, before the process of being able to buy the car began. And so we have been forced to rent the car off the actual owner until we get our licences. And this (required by state law) is no picnic, either. You have to sit through five hours of videos, take a multiple-choice quiz, AND do a roadtest.

The Doctor has all this to look forward to, now that his precious number has finally arrived. And assuming he passes, there will be more queuing, at the Department of Motor Vehicles, and hundreds of forms to fill in to transfer the ownership of the car. Oh what fun. And I am supposed to do it too. Only I don't have a social security number because I'm not eligible for one. How the heck I am supposed to apply for the licence remains a mystery.....

Meanwhile I'm finding it impossible even to buy petrol on my credit card, because it's a UK card and they always ask for the zip code. We haven't been able to apply for a US credit card yet, because guess what? We didn't have a social security number...

So yes, the process of acquiring and driving a car in this country might be easy. But, like many things, as we're increasingly discovering, it's only easy if you're an American.