We are closing in on six months. Six short months after taking the plunge and moving to Israel with our 6 kids, leaving friends and family far behind. I've been thinking lately about how some things have changed in these six months, and how some things are very much the same:
We no longer kvetch, cry or stamp our feet because we have no car. We take the bus, taxis, or train, and get much use of the delivery options the stores have to offer.
I never, EVER would've thought it possible to live 6 months without a clothes dryer. Not only do I still not have one, I am thinking that I may try to make it through the "winter" without one.
Car seats seem optional.
The kids no longer run terrified into the house when someone stops to ask them directions. Now they smile and give beautiful directions in Hebrew.
We are praying for rain, and not praying for the rain to stop.
We still miss our dogs.
We have been to the Zoo in Jerusalem 4 times.
The 25 minute walk up to school is not only doable, it's "fun!!!".
N knows how to fully operate Skype. He needs Bubby, and he can dial her right up.
My kids prefer Israeli ketchup.
They can also now tell over much of the Parsha at the table.
There are only 3 months left to Ulpan. (Hebrew classes specific for new immigrants.)
We still miss our Sundays.
Not only are the kids not nervous to go into the stores by themselves, but they stop there on the way home from school every day.
I no longer find it particularly remarkable that it's 72 degrees outside, and it's the end of December.
N somehow knows to say "Shalom" to Hebrew speaking strangers, and "Hi" to English speaking ones. Don't ask me how, he just does.
I will call the kids' teachers instead of doling out the task to #1 Hebrew Speaker: BAW.
We are almost unpacked.
We still miss our friends.
I can count on one hand the times I have worn my sheitel (wig) since I got here.
A had his first Hebrew speaking play date, and lived to tell the tale.
We still haven't set up our Wii, and we are still alive and kicking.
Mr. "Ma Zeh" is the least afraid of all to use his ever increasing Hebrew vocabulary.
I do still lose my breath every time I round the corner and come upon the Kotel.
We still miss our family.