We're in transmission

There is a rubber shark in a tub of water in our master bathroom.  It has been there for a week now.  The package advertised that it would grow to "many times it's size."  It is growing, but in sections, so that one fin is large and floppy and one is still tiny and tucked close to the shark's body.  It's belly is bulging like the dead carp that bump against the docks of the marina in my hometown, while it's back is strong and straight like the roughly-18-in. bass I reeled in this summer but didn't land because the darn thing broke the line.

I'm glad for the shark.  It has been a great illustration with the kids, particularly Bright, who is the least adaptable in the immediate (though incredibly strong-of-heart for the duration, if you know what I mean).  Bright has been crying.  A lot.  Part of that is jet lag, but most of it is being in America all summer and returning now to East Asia, where we are in a new city, in a new apartment, with new friends to bond with and a new Ayi in our home.  In short, everything is different, and the poor kids are feeling it.  Bright said, while crying on the toilet the other day, "I'm OK, I'm just in transmission."  He meant transition, of course, and I had to turn away so he wouldn't see me smile.

When things get tough, we walk over to the horribly disfigured floating shark, and we gaze down at the ugly thing, and I say, "See, that is us.  Parts of us look just like they should, but other parts of us are refusing to adjust to our new environment.  The result is a very strange and unpleasant thing.  But give us enough time, and we'll be just fine."

The kids this summer with their cousins (on the Rademaker side), Jack and Sharlet.  We miss you and love you!!