School Days

School pictures--already!

Yesterday, we received the order packets for the kids' school photos, and it gave me pause to consider how much my brave, enthusiastic children have accomplished in just four short months.

We have moved across the world on a wonderful adventure, but it has meant leaving behind friends, family and a familiar life, the familiarity kids cherish so much.

Yes, kids are resilient.  And at four and five years old, Reese and Abigail are ideal ages to thrive in a foreign world; old enough not to truly miss friends from back home, yet young enough to soak up other cultures and languages like a sponge.

They are excited and enthusiastic.  Reese loves that he gets to ride trams and trains so often.  Likewise, Abby loves that she gets to ride trams and trains so often.

Abby was so inspired by all the bikes in Amsterdam that she shed the training wheels within weeks of our arrival. Reese, having never lived in a city or a neighborhood per se, was shocked and now enchanted that we have neighbors . . . and that they have children his age!  They do chalk art on the front sidewalk, and the neighbors have cut holes in the fences so the kids can run between all of the back gardens.

They both adore Vondelpark, which is like Amsterdam's version of Central Park, and located one street over from us.  It must seem so huge to them, a fantasy world right next door.  We bike through it everyday on our way here and there.  We bike or walk everywhere, for that matter.  We take our dog, Abby takes her doll carriage, Reese rides his scooter.

In many ways, things are simpler, easier.  We don't clamor for parking spots, battle traffic, or fiddle with car seats.  We buy groceries and necessities on a daily basis and spend a lot of time outdoors.

But, it's all so, so new. 

Reese still cries to go back to Bainbridge Island every time he is scared, sick or sent to time out.  He was only three and a half years old when we moved, so this cry is mostly symbolic of something vague that was once comfortable and familiar.  Still, it hurts my heart. Every time. And the cry for Bainbridge seems even more poignant for its indistinct quality.

His smiles in these photos hint at his mischievousness, but belie the fact that he was super sick the day the photo was taken.  He had a bad reaction to vaccinations, and when I picked him up that day he was asleep in the corner of the classroom.  That night, he cried for Bainbridge in his sleep while crazy with a high fever.

One of the biggest gifts we hope this experience brings is that of a second, or even a third, language for Abby and Reese. With this in mind, we had several choices in schooling:  The International School, the British School, or local Dutch school.  We sent them to the French Lycée.

First day of school, in the bakfiets.

This baffles and offends our Dutch neighbors immeasurably.  The Dutch are very direct, so we've heard an earful on this topic. You're here in Amsterdam, why wouldn't they learn Dutch?  Despite the holes in the fence for easy access, there's a language barrier between our children and our Dutch neighbor children. 

Of course we'd be thrilled if Abby and Reese picked up Dutch.  But after years of studying French, living in France, and speaking lousy French to my kids when they were babies, I was determined to help them become fluent as well as regain my own French language skills.  Long term, it's the language Doug and I can best support Abby and Reese and, unlike Dutch, there's a chance they will hang onto French and use it again.

First day of school, outside the Lycée.

The British School and International School are great schools, but conducted primarily in English with a few Dutch lessons along the way.  The International School is also huge; we felt like we were on a college campus when we visited.  The scale of the French school is lovely, only going up to third or fourth grade.  Small and simple.

Of course, going to French school, when you don't really know French, is anything but simple.  Abby and Reese have two days of class in French and two days in English, with alternating Wednesdays.  Once they enter the equivalent of the first grade, class is conducted entirely in French with a few hours of Dutch lessons each week.

It's a huge opportunity and a huge hardship for them.  As of yet, I know only one other family, besides ours, who doesn't have a fluent and/or native French-speaking parent in the house (and they are Dutch).  This means Abby and Reese are completely in the dark much of the time.  They have to work hard to overcome this opening obstacle.  Last year, they were in preschool.  No matter what, this would have been a big year for Abby--entering kindergarten is a big deal.  She's doing it at a French school without any real exposure to French.

Visiting the French school this summer with Nana, a few weeks after our arrival.

Abby's class is upstairs, and the school requires parents drop children at the bottom of stairs.  This causes much anxiety for Abby, and has been new territory for me as a mom since Abby is typically so independent--a child who loves school and went without trepidation.  But for the past two months, she has sobbed, hysterical to go upstairs alone.  It is sucks the air out of me to send her up, inconsolable. Yet, she's all smiles and laughter when I pick her up, without exception. Yesterday, she said the day seemed short because it was so good.

I know they will be fine, of course.  I can see the light flickering; they are acquiring new French words everyday and learning the tone and subtleties of French by finding the context and interacting with classmates and teachers.

Waving goodbye through the window after drop-off yesterday morning.

And Reese LOVES going to school.  He says "bonjour" to everyone he passes in the halls, and skips into the classroom.

The first French word Reese learned at school was "Arrête !" meaning "Stop!"

He'll learn to curb his enthusiasm (hopefully not too much), and he'll learn to do it in French.

Petit a petit.   

Meanwhile, Mom and Dad are both working with a French tutor.  I spend four hours per week with Agnès, our amazing French teacher (who I thank deeply for everything from the Lysine to the Teaching Buddah), and Doug spends two hours with her on Saturdays.  We are committed, and we are learning.  It's slow and hard and fun, all at the same time.  

I can only imagine the frustration and self-doubt I feel trying to learn a new language is what Abby and Reese feel, only they're unable to recognize it or express it.  I'm so proud of them for their courage, endurance and good spirit.  They teach me a lot.

Reese fell asleep on the couch today, sick with an ear infection.  I like to imagine he's dreaming of Bainbridge . . . in French.