One Year since The Move

Today was the anniversary of The Move to the UK. Not only have we officially lived in England for one year, but I think it's the first time this century that I've gone a full year without setting foot in the States. A new era, indeed!

To celebrate, I want to write a bit about my children, who had lived their whole lives in the States before the Move. Legally, they have dual nationality, British and American. My 11 year old son identifies as British; my 9 year old daughter considers herself American.

The most common question I get from people who don't know my children is what accent do they have? The answer is a hybrid. To British ears, they sound American; to American ears, they sound British. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that certain words and phrases bring out one accent over the other.

To me, they sound like themselves; I can sometimes pick up on the American traces, but usually I don't hear an accent. After a year in the country, I think they've got more British, but I could be wrong. They have definitely picked up more Britishisms: my daughter's very keen on saying 'telly' for 'television.'

Aside from their Dad, it's the food they (and I!) miss most. There's this one peanut sauce we used to buy and we can't get anything close to it here. We're currently on a quest to recreate the sauce ourselves... it's not going well.

But British food is one of our favourite things about moving as well: we've finally got accustomed to having baked beans absolutely any time we want, but this year my daughter discovered the joys of cream teas (which I never once missed while we were in the States, but now the two of us will drop anything for a scone with jam and clotted cream.)

Meanwhile, my son is going through a growth spurt and is a bottomless pit. To my despair, a peanut butter and jam sandwich is still his go-to appetite-fix, but by far, his favourite snack is that staple of a British bakery: a sausage roll.

There was an extra culture shock here, as the kids had spent their whole lives in Suburbia. If we needed just about anything, we could probably get it from our local Target. If we wanted to eat or see a film, there were multiple options. There were museums, theme parks, actual parks, aquariums, zoos, etc, etc. If you went anywhere, you drove, because it was too far to walk and public transport sucked.

Do the kids miss that lifestyle? Yes. But they've embraced the country more than I ever dared to hope. After a lifetime of flat landscapes, they spent the first four months commenting on the view every time we were on a hill. (There are a lot of hills here. We live on a hill.)

Adding sausages to a view

A bare two months into country-living, my daughter confidently strode into a herd of cows to shoo them away from the public footpath. (They were gathered around the kissing gate and the dog was refusing to go through.) When we first moved into the village, they didn't like my suggestion of taking the footpath through the churchyard to get to school. Now they walk past the graves without batting an eye.

That said, they still can't stand the smell of manure on the fields.

There are a hundred little points of difference between their lives then and now, but I'll finish with one that came up recently. They didn't know that swallows migrated. These birds are the standard classroom example for teaching migration in the UK, but in North America, the monarch butterfly is the face of migration. (Most of the children in my kids' class have probably never heard of monarch butterflies.)

A little thing, but they'll run into these little things countless times through their lives. My childhood was split between the two countries, and my knowledge of both is swiss-cheesed with little holes I don't notice until they come up. My children are going to have that experience too, and perhaps what I'm proudest of is how calmly and practically they handle each as it comes up.

My kids. They're awesome.