Oh it's so ________ to be back!

When we live in Shenzhen, our transition back to life-in-China usually involved an immediate visit to one of our friendly Starbucks locations. Here we could straddle our American and Chinese lives. Ordering our regular drinks and snacks but speaking Chinese really helped ease us back into the reality of our lives. At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Now we've returned to China for the first time to Beijing, to Changping, really, and there has been no easing back into the world. Very little is helping me get over every.little.thing. that really makes our life frustrating.

So much of the Internet is now blocked from my view that it really makes me crazy. I'm still fiddling with some fixes that people have recommended me that are just not working for me, but in the meantime I am without Twitter (one of my favorite things on the Internet!), Facebook (not my favorite, but some friends only communicate via this anymore), and a host of other websites. Oh yes, and at last, I can report that much of the Vatican website in Chinese is actually blocked, including the Pope's letter in Chinese. Several times previously I had read on blogs or in foreign news that these particular pages are blocked, though I would find that they weren't. They are now.

I still haven't gotten the hang of the appropriate manner in which to dress Brigid in Beijing. Yesterday morning it hadn't even reached 32 degrees yet (90 F), so I had her in a vest (onesie). It was really sunny, so she also wore her bonnet. To many Americans (particularly grandmothers and great-aunts and you know who you are) this would be right thing to do. However, on this side of the looking glass, I was once again chastised by other women for the way in which Brigid was dressed. First when we stopped at the playground for Myles to run around in the relatively cooler morning air, several mothers and grandmothers wanted to know what I was thinking putting a hat on a baby when it was so hot outside. I realized I never learned the word for sunburn, so I tried my best. I attempted to explain to them that because her skin is so white the sun could turn it red and very painful. One women would not give it a rest. She just kept telling me it was too hot for a hat on a baby.

Closer to noon we returned to our apartment. At one entrance to the complex we were greeted by another group of mothers and grandmothers and children. Now it was getting up above 32 degrees, and we were all starting to sweat, hat or no hat. I just wanted to get home into our A/C. More small talk, and then one grandmother had to point out that Brigid was rather inappropriately without socks. I resisted the urge to scream.

It was likely I encountered two opposing childcare philosophies this morning. Too hot for a hat and socks no matter what seem to my American self completely at odds. But they probably are not.

I am really looking forward to getting through this transition so that we can embrace the adventure of being here. Somedays it is difficult to embrace life here as an opportunity, especially after spending a whirlwind six weeks in the wonderful company of our families and friends.