Well, hello.

I don’t blog nearly as much as I should – let’s be honest, I don’t blog at all. I have been writing a good bit, however. I use to frequently contribute to a magazine here, in Al Ain, about parenting and family life as an expat. I’ve also written for an online blog or two. Even with all of those additional writing assignments, I will also admit that Instagram has made me a bit lazy – wait, so I can post this picture with a little write-up?!?! It’s like a mini blog with graphics, easily included, especially since there are no character limits (ahem, Twitter. Which I haven’t quite gotten the hang of yet.). So between working, loving on my husband, raising my 4 children, and my cheat IG blogs; I just haven’t gotten around to actually blogging. Here is my attempt to do better…again.


Just in case you were wondering, motherhood is no joke and it kicks my butt daily. So I’ve been attempting to balance life all while feeling like the cat in the hat right before everything came tumbling down. I’m still balancing though- well, still standing- and that’s what really matters. I’m fortunate that I’m no longer trying do that with postnatal depression. It did return after Daniel was born. I was prepared this time though, so I was able to act as a barrier between myself and well, myself. Exercise helped tremendously. It was a drug, of sorts, for me. If I went three days without working out, my mood plummeted and I found myself crying, sad, and hopeless. My husband made it a point to allow me space and time to workout. He even took the liberty of suggesting a run from time to time (side-eye…appreciative side-eye, but side-eye still). I’m so blessed to have him. Exercise, his support, strategies taught by my therapist, and prayer helped me while under my cloud. I’ll be honest, however, depression changes you. I wish that I could look at it as a phase that I’m now over but depression, like other negative life experiences, leaves chilling marks. I’ve spent the last few months trying to re-build my confidence and re-shape my self-image. It’s been an interesting and humbling journey.

Outside of that, I’m still teaching while trying to figure out if I still want to and am still writing while trying to figure out how to do that more. Oh, and still parenting the mess out of life, naturally.

The Lorick Littles

Since the last time I wrote everyone has had a birthday. Mila is 5, Aaron 4, Benjamin 2, and Daniel is 1 (see what I mean regarding the butt kicking?).

They for sure don’t feel like your typical American children and it’s a bittersweet feeling, really. While I still feel connected to my children, the differences in our upbringings gap a bit more with the coming of the years. Currently, it is more of a language gap than anything else. My daughter often says “pardon” after I say something and one glance of her confused face let’s me know that she wasn’t able to place my accent. I say it again, but slower. Even their verbiage is quite different than my husband’s and my own. At first it was biscuits instead cookies, “tuh-mah-toes” for “tah-may-toes, and the ever-standing British “t” in “water” unless, of course, you pronounce it like a British girlfriend of mine, “wa-ah.” Recently my daughter asked me for a rubber. There was a long pause on my end but I soon realized that she wanted an eraser. When wanting to get something right now she often says, “straight away” after her request. Her discussions with me about nannies and understanding the differences in Gods are fascinating. Her ability to differentiate between a native English speaker and non-native speaker is clever to say the least. My sons follow suit with their big sister while yielding to their own experiences as well. I am raising 3rd culture children and I, while learning on the job, pray that I succeed while working through those differences alongside the normal, daily struggles and joys of parenting.

Feel free to follow my lazy post on Instagram @theexpatparent and watch this space ;).FullSizeRender