Ugly Americans

 Time is a constant you grow acutely aware of as the years go by.   Its passage feels more pronounced the longer you are out as an expat, or (for those who move away from their hometowns to later return) when you return  home . It has been busy these last three months. I have been quieter more than I wanted to be, because of the relentless pace our life has taken since returning to Florida.   As is our tradition, we had a welcome back/return party about a month after arrival. We invited everyone, and we had more people show than we expected. I don't know if it was because we are not staying 'just a month', like we would for home leave... if it was because of the current political climate, or if time had a hand in prompting people to show up. So it was with our party. There were a ton of people there, that I had not seen in some time. It was the best hail to post I think we have ever had in our FSLife.   I have been sending out actual, real, honest-to-...

[Author's note: This entry was originally written in January 2012. It was originally sent to a smaller circle of family and friends on Facebook as a way of explaining in one go what happened at the end of my pregnancy. However I have decided to publish the original draft on my journal since Facebook is not the best way to present, locate, or archive long postings.] Since Facebook updates are best for bite-sized portions of information, I have decided to explain why I've been scarce lately. I include a tiny disclaimer- everything that happened in this story is true, however I might have a few things out of order due to circumstances beyond my control. Memory is funny that way. For 37 weeks, I had what most people would describe as a normal, uneventful pregnancy. I'd been taking my vitamins regularly, eating as varied a diet one could manage in Ashgabat, and keeping busy. Everything was fine, and nothing was out of the ordinary. I'd picked out my OBGYN back home...