The Hamster Diaries

I apologize in advance if this is horrifying, grotesque, or plain terrible for you to read. In some senses I am writing this for myself so I can reference back in years to come, so I don't forget the pain and lapse into indulgence.

When we lived in Moscow, many a neighbor would try to pawn off a beloved family pet upon their departure. These included hamsters, turtles, fish, and cats (mostly). Because we already had a family pet, a Russian cat named Koshka, which means simply cat, we declined every time. We brought her with us to DC because she is toilet trained (no seriously, the toilet) and I like her company. I wistfully promised my children, "When we live in America, I will get you hamsters."

I keep my promises.

A few weeks ago, after the shipment was sorted and we had obtained beds for everyone, we went to a big-box pet store to purchase three hamsters for children 2, 3, and 4. They were required to pay for the food and cages and I would supply funding for the actual pet, a meager $12.99 each. When asking child 1 if she wanted one, she was astute in her reply. "They will do all the work, pay for the cages, and I will get to play with the pets whenever I want." Well played Number 1, well played.

I required that each of my kids sign a contract to secure their responsibility. Shortly after the divine furry rodents were home, Number 3 made a rainbow painted, popsicle stick house for her little pet. I reminded her that item six in the contract required keeping the pet safe. She nodded her head and agreed with all seriousness. That evening, we discovered that the popsicle stick house had been attached to the cage as an annex for her wandering furball, called Fluffy. Our theory is that the furball wandered directly into the mouth of our hungry, foreign cat, never to be seen again.

I made her wait a few days just to drive the point home. Four days later,we purchased a replacement, called Shadow. He is a Russian breed and the cat seemed to leave him alone. Perhaps they have made a treaty because of their homelands.

Child Number 2 was very careful about not losing his hamster. One morning, Spike wandered out of an open top (!!!) and again, into the jaws of the predator. Koshka is very tidy about clean-up, as well as licking her chops. At this point, I said there would be no more.

Child Number 3 was arrogantly parading her hamster while warning that her little sister, Number 4, had better watch out because her hamster, Mento, would be next. That.very.minute...screams erupted from the girls room as witnesses watched Koshka devour yet another victim. This time, blood and crunching proving her guilt.

So Shadow was still alive. For two weeks he was the family pet. My kind, gracious husband had not reminded me that he thought this was a bad idea from the start. I voluntarily admitted my error.

Then my sister came to visit. She was helping me distribute things in our crowded apartment and reminding me that each thing must have it's proper purpose and place. We discovered a box in a closet filled with extra hamster cages and balls. She convinced me, as a way to solidify her impression as a favored Aunt, to purchase two more. I gave in.

We went to a different pet store, so they wouldn't recognize me, and purchased two more, Spot and Caramel. Their cages were attached and apparently the cat broke down the tube between the two and ate Spot. I replaced that one the next day with Lucky, the 7th and final hamster.

It saddens me as well as causes me to break out into peals of uncontrolled laughter, to inform you that Lucky is missing in action and the cat didn't eat her breakfast. I suppose conclusions can be made.

Shadow, the Russian, still remains. Caramel sleeps in the upper tubes where a cat can't reach. Maybe they are the smart ones. Maybe they will survive. One thing is sure, hamsters are not cheap, in multiple purchases. I did my part. My kids know I am not a liar. I do think that I may be an idiot though.

ADDENDUM: Shadow, the Russian, died unexpectedly during a family vacation in July. Though his body has not been located, the authorities have a pretty good idea where he went. He was replaced by Avila, another Russian.

Cue Reality

I got my first water bill.

Why does water cost anything!? And, who in my house is using up all the water? Could it be the three female children who feel like a proper shower has to be THIRTY MINUTES LONG?

"SHUT THE FRONT DOOR! No, seriously. And stop opening the patio door so the cat can sniff the outdoors. She won't go out, stop letting her sniff. We haven't had to pay for heat in a few years. Don't waste it now." I'm half tempted to tell the kids to leave the microwave open after they use it so we can absorb that extra little bit of warmth. Or maybe heat from the lightbulbs...no that leads to..

"TURN OFF THE LIGHTS!" After living in a place where you get cloudy daylight for six hours in the winter, I always justified the light usage. Now. Not so much. The bright Virginia sunlight streams into our rooms every morning. Open the shades, for heaven sakes!

If you are fortunate enough to picture Number Four in your mind, imagine her frizzy side ponytail, teeny-tiny glasses, one hand on her hip, and a pointer finger sweeping across a wooden piece of furniture collecting a nest of dust. Her reaction; "Ummmmm, when is somebody going to come to clean this up?"

She wasn't joking! During our time in Moscow, we had a once-a-week housekeeper who mopped floors, dusted, vacuumed, and cleaned our five bedrooms and four bathrooms. We've majorly downsized so I'm pretty confident that my small tribe and I can handle the task. I had no idea my pampered little darlings had become so disillusioned about the responsibility of house cleaning. Seriously, that's an integral part of homeschool life skills training.

When you live overseas, it is socially acceptable (and encouraged) to have domestic help. My once-a-week help was minimal by most standards, but the peace of mind she offered to me was invaluable. Plus, we grew to love our Natalia and her funny Russian ways.

I know that later this month I will get electric bills, natural gas bills (at least it's not propane!), internet, and phone bills. Uncle Sam, (and Mom and Dad) I would like to thank you for the years of free utilities. Lesson learned.

Keeping up with the Joneses

I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings so I will try to tread lightly. I'm not sure I'm good at being an American mother. Most of my concerns in Moscow revolved around the proper feeding, dressing, and educating of my four offspring. Suddenly I am laying awake at night worrying about which organized activity is best, whether my kids will make quality friends, and how in the world I can educate them on pop culture.

Realization: I am a homeschooler who has lived overseas for the last 3.5 years. No matter how I do it, my methods will never be the same as my friends whose kids are in a formal institution and have lived here their whole lives. My kids know world geography better than most adults I come across, but they don't understand jokes about Justin Bieber. In my short, five weeks in this wonderful town, I have managed to enroll Number 1 in gymnastics and youth group, Number 2 in baseball, bought three hamsters (or four?) joined a local aquatic center, and started attending Bible study. I think we're doing pretty well, but something nags at me that it's not enough.

When I've tried to get acquainted with other moms (homeschoolers included) I feel overwhelmed by their droning about who has to be where and when. In the evenings our family likes to watch Jeopardy (finally on at an appropriate time), read good books aloud, and play games. I like riding the bus and the metro. Though I drive a mini-van, I don't want to live in it. That's why we pay through the nose for a cozy apartment.

Consider this my deep breath.

Right now, I've still got to find us a mechanic, a doctor, a dentist, and stop using the GPS to get to church. I have to figure out the new budget and figure out how to cook when I'm running errands every day just to make our house complete. I'm also trying to get four people through 1st, 3rd, 5th, and 6th grade without too much trauma.

It's not them. It's me. I like us. I like our dynamics. It just feels different and scary.

Starting Over

In moving back to America, we didn't just settle back in our old hometown to people and places we knew. We moved to Washington DC where everything is unfamiliar and exciting. I didn't realize just how exciting until I took my kids to the grocery store. We walked to get there, because that's what we like to do, and arrived at a food wonderland with only four cars parked outside. In every aisle, the kids were exclaiming, "Look at this!" or "OOOOOoooo, they have those!" We indulged in things like sweet strawberries, packets of oatmeal, and a gallon jug of chocolate milk for only $4.59. That afternoon, we hopped in the car to discover the local library. My younger ones don't remember the library at all and again I was met with faces saying, "Really? We can take these books home?" One mistakenly cut out a template page in the back of a craft book because she thought all books that enter our home are "ours".

Before we left for Moscow, instead of storing anything, we sold all of our furniture and vehicles. After our current arrival back in the US, we bought a ten-year-old vehicle and our kids think it's the coolest thing ever! Honestly, compared to the 1993 Astro van we drove in Moscow, it's definitely an improvement. Last night we took the city bus to the mall. We were all amazed how much it didn't smell. Yay for public transit.

Now the downside. We have been sleeping on air mattresses. There wasn't a dinner table, chairs, or couches when we moved in. I didn't have to live this way when we went overseas because government housing provides all of your furniture. Don't misunderstand, I don't really want Drexel Heritage French Colonial right now, but a couch would be nice. This led to dumpster diving. We found two amazing patio chairs and an ottoman outside the trash chute at our apartment. The kids quickly grabbed rags and we took turns sitting in the reclining lawn seats in the living room. I feel 19 again. A few weeks and several Craigslist negotiations later, we have some beds and some chairs. It's not complete but we're getting there.

Another funny thing about America. Each store has a discount card that fits on your keyring. I'm actually enjoying getting one at every store. It's good practice to remember my address and feel like I'm part of this locale. So far I've collected one at the supermarket, one at the auto store, and one from the library. I wonder where I'll get one next.

No Place like Home for the Holidays

In a little bit of sentimental nostalgia, I kept singing this song in my head in the week preceding our surprise visit home. In addition to holding my newborn nephew, eating Chinese food on Christmas Day, and drinking cocoa by the fire, there were so many iconic things about going home with my family. Here are a few.



Taking the kids sledding. Next to my parents' house, there is a perfect sledding hill. When I was a kid, I always felt a little lucky that I could go any time I wanted and nobody had to drive me to get there. The other kids had to beg and plead for their parents to sit in their cars at the top of the hill and wait for the fun to conclude. I took my kids there with their cousins and some friends. After a temporary fit of panic watching my seven year-old slide quickly down, I realized that this was special. It was a memory in the making. It was something we could share when we talk about our travels of the world.

Hunting and Guns. My son, now 11, has his own gun. My husband has three. They haven't been able to hunt or target shoot since we lived overseas. One of our first stops was going to our friend's house to pick up the guns so the boys could shoot. They went rabbit hunting one day and shot cans behind Grandpa's house on another. The girls and I don't really care to join, but this was another special time with uncles, grandpas, fathers, and sons.

Pedicures. The $20 pedicure by this sweet Vietnamese lady in my hometown cannot be compared. Every time I am home, I stop in here to get a good scrub for my tootsies. This time, I brought my girls and my mom. As my 12 year-old daughter sat in the chair getting a pedicure, it was another reminder of the simple pleasures of American life. It was very sweet to be remembered as well when we walked in the and the owner said, "Back again for a visit?"

Chopping Wood and Woodstoves Let me be clear; if I ever own a woodstove, it will only be because pigs are flying and hell has frozen over. My husband and I both grew up with woodstoves. That translates into, my husband and I were both required, as children, to cut, stack, and load the wood as well as feed the fire. Not my favorite task ever. It's messy, tiring, and never ending. I did enjoy the warm, glowing fireplace in places we visited, but no thank you. It will also be something that lives in my memory, not in my house. We will tell our children that woodstoves are for visiting up North. However, my husband, son, and nephews were fortunate to be able to chop wood for a whole afternoon and feel the sweat of a hard days work. Good enough for me.

Pizza Hut In a book I once read, it said that middle children are the most prone to savor family traditions. Based on my own experience, I have found that to be true. So as we were headed out to Virginia, we stopped in to see my brother-in-law and his family. We suggested stopping in around 6pm. He quickly reminded me that we would get Pizza Hut because that's what we do when we're in town. We were all so pleased that he remembered. For the last 3.5 years, my husband has been making us amazing, homemade pizza, but getting it made to order around the block was something special too. Plus, there was a special going on so it was $15 for three pizzas. That's just crazy!

Planes, trains, and autmobiles (and a bus or two)

My husband and I have discovered that though we like to travel, we don't always do it well when we're together. We each have our own system of doing things. Mine, clearly the superior way, is to organize everything in a folder, arrive at least hours ahead of time and saunter calmly through all the security checkpoints. His is, well, a little less stringent. That being said, when we decided how and when to arrive in the US, we agreed that I would travel with the children and he would travel with the cat. Our Russian cat is very beautiful, but it's not her beauty that has secured her position with this family. It's the fact that she can pee on the toilet. Enough said.

Obtaining the documents necessary for the cat to travel was slightly more involved than we were first aware. The Russian veterinarian came to our house to give the updated shots and sign the cat's passport. The shots were 2200 rubles ($66) and the document was an additional 2200 rubles. A small price to pay for no kitty litter.

The kids and I left Moscow on December 22. Our flight left in the afternoon and the morning was torturous as we said several goodbyes to our dear friends and neighbors. They took these photos of our departure, but my friend was sobbing her eyes out as we pulled away. I had no idea it would be so sad to leave.

Our flights were pretty smooth and we even got upgraded to comfort seating on our 10.5 hour flight. We had a two hour delay in Chicago and our flight slid on the runway in Grand Rapids due to icy conditions. Here's Number Two's solution to the delay.



After so many hours of travel, I went a little nuts when the cabbie told me our luggage wouldn't fit into one car and that I needed to hire a second. I said, not so politely, "I'll load it myself!" and I did. The kids told me later I was slightly frightening in that moment. The cabbie didn't charge me for baggage.

My husband arrived on Christmas Eve, on time. That alone was a Christmas miracle! The next day, this is what we saw out of our windows.

Surprise! We moved.

Living overseas has given me a myriad of diverse opportunities and experiences. As a friend says, the only downside is the transient lifestyle. It's exciting to be the one moving on but it's challenging for those who aren't leaving yet or those who will never leave. I've been there before and have even called myself a fifth-year senior. But our turn finally came. That's right. We have left Russia. I hate the long, drawn-out goodbyes, the farewell luncheons, dinners, and get-togethers. Like a sticky band-aid, I would rather rip the thing right off and be done with it. I'll feel the sting later and be glad it's over.

We got the job offer on Dec 3. The kids and I flew out on Dec 22. In that amount of time I had to pack out the house, say goodbyes, schedule sleepovers, and prepare our place in Washington D.C.

In addition, Christmas had to come early at our house so everything could be packed up, so it was hustle, bustle, holiday cheer, and put-it-back-in-the-box.

The best part about this situation is that our family back home (Michigan) didn't have any idea we were leaving. We decided to take a week of vacation and surprise everyone at Christmas!

On Christmas day, we told my husband's family that we would Skype them at 11am. We showed up at their back door instead. Next we surprised my husband's siblings, then mine. Along the way, it was really fun to surprise people with texts, phone calls, and face to face.

The best part of the whole visit was that we got to welcome a new nephew, born the day after Christmas. We took as much time as possible to stop in and rock him.

SO we are in our apartment in Arlington now and we just got internet. This blog is just a starter, but I have so much more to tell you about. Please be patient and there will be other fun stories.