I usually don’t review books here, but I just read the book What Alice Forgot and felt so impacted by it I had to share. The premise of the book is this woman (Alice) who falls and hits her head at the gym which results in her forgetting the last 10 years of her life. Pretty interesting right? Well, I don’t know for other avid readers, but eventually most books start blending into each other; however, the way that this book explains how much we can change over a period of time – basically into someone we don’t even know, is memorable.

Throughout the story, Alice is being told about the person she is today, as well as some occasional flashbacks. Her last memory is of her being pregnant for the first time and being happily married while 10 years later she has 3 three children and is getting divorced. You also get a glimpse of how her relationship have changed with family and friends; all to her surprise. So, even though it’s completely understandable why her life isn’t as it was 10 years before, I eventually started to sympathize when Alice says things like ‘how could we be getting a divorce? We are so committed to making this work!’ (not an exact quote). I was also touched with how she struggled to figure why she and her sister, as well as some friends were not as close as they used to be. There are certain times in your life when you feel so sure about everything and everyone in it that you can’t imagine anything being different. But then of course, life happens.

Expat life is synonymous with change. If I hit my head and temporarily lost the last 10 years of my life, I would wake up thinking I had just graduated from college, had started my dream job in Haiti and was planning my upcoming wedding. As much as I had my future planned out then, it ended up something quite different. Some of the actors have exited the stage and the stage set up is definitely not how I imagined. Others have gone from a starring to a supporting role. But, like Alice (without the head injury), I have to pause and appreciate all the scenes that have played out and learn to embrace last minute changes in the script. I have to trust that in the end, it will be a masterpiece. My masterpiece.

For anyone who has ever wondered how and why your life has become what it has, What Alice Forgot will get you on the path to those answers

Time is what prevents everything from happening at once.  ~John Archibald Wheeler

You know we expats are always talking about how different our lives are from friends and family back home. We describe how our schedules have changed, how we manage our homes differently and of course how we eat differently. With the start of school (yippee!) and hearing about everyone else’s changes and transitions, I noticed that our lives are so much more alike than I had previously realized. It’s fragile. We have happy times, sad times and bored times. Also, everything can change in 24 hours.

From hearing about a Facebook friend who realized how much her life had changed since her last status update 18 hours before, to reading about people who are affected by another sudden tragedy; people’s lives are in constant flux. This is true whether you’re rich, poor, living abroad or living in the same place you grew up. Someone once made the analogy to me that life is like when you’re in the bathtub with a bunch of floating balls and you’re trying to keep all of them underwater. Right when you’ve got all of them under control, one pops up. Sometimes the ball that pops up can easily be handled with a slight maneuver. However, sometimes getting a handle of it means letting go of all the others. Regardless of a person’s exterior circumstances, which is basically what living abroad is, dealing with sudden changes can be very difficult. Traumatic even.

So, I’ve decided that next time someone is asking me about how different my life must be living abroad, I’m going to remind them that we go through the same emotions as everyone else. I’m living a life very similar to theirs; I’m simply doing it at a different geographic coordinate.

The second night that we were in South Florida, I got the chance to sit down and watch the six o’clock news. I was curious to see which of the announcers were still there and how the studio changed (I notice things like that). Well, the studio did get snazzier with sparkly blue background and the announcers were still the same. What bothered me was what was coming out of their mouths.

First, there was the story of this young man who killed his adoptive mother. After he killed her, he called his aunt and said he didn’t know where his mom was and could she help him locate her. This is a woman who stood up for him recently in court because he was facing charges for theft. What is THAT?!

Then, there was the story of a a kid in high school who killed both his parents and then he kept their bodies in a room while he threw a party. Yes, a party. He made the mistake of confiding what he did to his best friend and thank goodness the best friend felt obliged to contact the authorities. Twisted!

What’s strange is that I don’t recall ever seeing similar stories here in Venezuela. I watch the local news in the morning and then CNN International the rest of the day, so it isn’t like I’m avoiding the news. Now, I don’t think that Venezuela doesn’t have its share of violence – it probably even has mentally unstable people like those two gentleman who woke up one day and decide to kill their loved ones. But, they choose not to show it on the news.

I think we have very little control over the information that we are given through mainstream media in general. For instance, I don’t think we see half the gang-related violence that goes on in American urban neighborhoods. So, why must we hear about every little piece of disturbing news out there. How will knowing a little girl who went missing 30 states away was found murdered enhance my knowledge? Or, why do I need to hear about a woman who cut off her husband’s penis and then put it through the garbage disposal? I guess it all depends on the reasons you watch the news, but my goal is to be more informed. These types of news stories only leave me feeling…well, disturbed.

I actually prefer the format of the news here in Venezuela. Yes, it can be biased and highly politicized. But, I don’t have to worry about coverage on the famine in the Horn of Africa being interrupted to announce that a celebrity couple is divorcing.

Am I making sense?

The little guy doesn’t realize it, but…

I used to sit by this very window with him when he was only a few weeks old because he was jaundiced and it was the best window in the house to get direct sunlight…

He could care less about that – especially with the evil pink machine in hand, but we made memories in that house. Maybe that’s why this place feels like home.

While on a field trip with my little guy’s class a week ago, another mom asked me if I wanted more children. After I secretly gave her the side eye (don’t think Venezuelans understand this gesture), I said “Oh, no.” She has two girls of her own about 5 years apart like mine, but I figured I’d return the question. She said, “Yes, of course. You’re lucky you have one of each. I have two girls and I really want a boy.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve had this sort of conversation with a parent, but it really gets me. When I found out I was having my little guy and people kept saying to me that it’s a good thing because now I have one of each and can be done, I answered “Even if it were a girl, I’d be done.” If I initially planned on birthing more than 2 children, then of course I would’ve kept going. But, even when I dreamed of having kids, I was never stuck on gender. Yes, I wanted two and yes, it would be nice if one were a girl and one were a boy. However, I was not going to keep going until I filled the quota and here’s why: each child is different regardless of gender.

My mom had two girls – my sister and I are night and day. Growing up she was more girly, more responsible (bossy ) and subdued. I was a tomboy, played into the role of baby of the family and talkative. So, even though she had kids of the same gender, her parenting had to adjust drastically in raising the two of us. And that’s what having kids is about right – parenting? So, I think that’s why having a girl or a boy was not a huge deal. I knew that my desire was to simply raise a child – not raise a boy/girl. Am I making sense?

Is gender a big deal for you when it comes to parenting? If so, why?