Being Foreign

It's Canada Day today - hurrah (said in a mock English accent!) I was not born on this soil but have called it home for the vast majority of the last 11 years. The UK has been good to me: great husband, lovely fledgling English son, a big job and good friends. It hasn't always been easy though. I am asked everyday where I'm from, or how long I'm staying. I can practically hear people thinking "she's not from here, she doesn't understand" when I question the status quo. [I do this regularly - it seems to be my trademark and am known for it in my social circle. I mean, come on, it's totally acceptable to challenge things which make no sense like no child swimming in the outdoor pool until after 4pm!] Those of us with non-Brit accents stick out. That's fair, I get it, but sometimes it's nice not to be so obviously different. My BFF is also Canadian but spent her early life in Yorkshire and she puts on a cracking accent when speaking to anyone official because it's easier. No questions, no assumptions, no being the other.

Being a foreign mum has resulted in me meeting lots of other foreign mums which is fantastic. I have a wealth of friends who are from all over the place: Bolivian, Mexican, Argentinian, Czech, South African and more. It's like the United Nations at the local playgroup in our corner of South West London. Our kids will grow up English but hopefully proudly declare they're half English and half xxx which is fantastic. My husband and I laugh over whether our son will say 'rooouf' a la Canadian or roff in the English style. Either way, he has a heritage to be proud of, even if his mummy is a little different! Or should I say 'mommy?'