It's Not Easy Being Grown Up

"Don't grow up to fast" my parents always used to tell me. Twenty years ago that seemed like banal advice; something grown-ups said, time having faded the agonies of youth from their memories. Twenty years ago, being older looked like a lot of fun: staying up late, watching anything you wanted on TV, no one telling you when to do what (like homework, brushing teeth, eating dinner, going to bed, waking up), no one knowing what is "best for you." Complete and utter freedom.

If only I had known then!

What I wouldn't give to be a kid for just one day and have someone make my decisions for me! But no such luck. That's my job now. And it isn't always an easy one.

As some of you may know, I had a bit of a rough time adjusting to Italy after life in the Caribbean. Who wouldn't, I guess, but for some reason it totally caught me off guard (although some of that may have had to do with the broken thumb three weeks after I got here). It caught me so off guard, in fact, that I had decided to head back to Toronto after this school year was over, leaving Travel Bug to do her thing during designated school holidays.

My mini-trip around Europe this Christmas changed all that. My eyes were suddenly opened to the fantastic opportunities that were surrounding me. "You're living in Europe!!!" a voice shouted out to me, forcing me into awareness. Yes, it was true. Here I was living in Europe, and being a spoiled brat about the whole thing because I didn't have a clothes dryer, and I couldn't buy bagels anywhere. It was then that I realized that I had spent two years in the Dominican Republic doing the exact same thing. Now that I am away from the DR, I realize what I missed while I was there. I decided that if I didn't change my attitude, it wouldn't matter where I lived. I would always be looking for ways to escape without stopping to appreciate my life as it was happening.

So when my principal asked me what my plans for next year were, I really started to think about staying in Europe for another year. I know I am not done with this continent yet. There are still so many things left to see, and I want to make sure that I fully enjoy my time here. In addition to that, my job, while not ideal, is really not intolerable. The amount of work I do outside of school is minimal. I plan one-third of the weekly lessons. No one is breathing down my neck every second of the day. And, the best part, my kids are fabulous. Staying an additional year would mean a significant raise, and keeping my students. Moving with my class to year three is even better than the monetary raise. It means the first term will not be wraught with "breaking in" a new class. What's more, I can start to lay down some framework for next year to make September even easier.

It was not an easy decision for me to make, in part because I *do* want to go home on some level. I miss home. I miss being "normal." Going to a store and asking for lightbulbs at home is not an ordeal. In a foreign country, everything is an ordeal. Especially the first time. I also am not too fond of the damp, penetrating cold that is Padova in winter. And, I was hoping something might come through with a job in another country here in Europe. But when I had to make a decision, I could only go with the facts: I have a job in Italy. My choices were to keep it or not.

After some thought, I decided to accept a position with my school for a second year. So I will be staying in Italy next year too. And while it isn't perfect, nowhere is, you can be sure I am going to make the best of it.