It's our story (and we're sticking to it!)

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, the first quarter of the school year recently came to a close. So that preliminary "getting to know you" and "easing into the academic routine" phase is over, and the real "roll up your sleeves" and "put your nose to the grindstone" part can begin (for Riley, anyway, still in Elementary School--Derek got thrown into the deep end on Day One of Middle School). For example, Riley was just assigned his very first 3rd grade project, a poster in which he must utilize of various "text features" to present information in an effective, interesting manner. "Great fun!" I thought enthusiastically, already envisioning how he could incorporate elements like fancy fonts, and photos, and captions, and (wait for it) bulleted lists! Poster board and markers and glue sticks, oh my! But I lost a bit of my excitement when I actually read the required topic: "Why your family moved to the United States...or Maryland...or Olney." Now, Riley's school is awesomely multi-cultural, so I'm positive that some of his classmates have really cool stories to tell about emigrating from other countries. Or some of them might at least have started out their life in another state, and moved to this area. But...I was born in Maryland. I've lived here my whole life. I feel so...L-A-M-E!

Of course, mine and Husband's ancestors did at some point come to America...but it was several generations ago. Those relatives have long passed, and (sadly) the family histories haven't been preserved in any tangible form. So poor Riley is stuck with his only possible choice: "why my Mom and Dad moved to Olney." (To make it even more pathetic, we relocated a whopping 14 miles, from Bethesda. I know, I know, Daring Adventurers we were, blazing a trail from one suburb to the next...) However, when discussing it with Riley, I realized that somehow, we'd never talked to him about that Pre-Kid period in our lives. He didn't know, for instance, that Husband and I had lived on the 8th floor of a tall apartment building, in the heart of the Bethesda Business District. Or that when we moved, I was just barely pregnant with Derek (but didn't know it yet), and wondered why the heck I was so exhausted when trying to load boxes. (We got a big chuckle out of that--technically, Derek moved with us...but he doesn't remember the old place so much!)

And it was certainly nostalgic, reminiscing about the months spent house-hunting (much more enjoyable than the actual search was). We shared how Husband had to convince me that Olney was not, in fact, "out in the middle of a pasture somewhere." How did he make his case? By pointing out that only a "real town" could support a Starbucks right in the center...and (most critically) within walking distance from our prospective neighborhood. We also wanted a yard where our future children could run amok, and Husband is fond of reminding me that my specifications were quite strict: there had to be a strip of grass at least 60 feet, 6 inches long...for pitching practice! Hmm, what else? Oh yeah, nice quiet street, good schools, blah blah blah.

So yes, our tale still lacks the suspense and drama of a genuine Coming to America experience, but hopefully the creative use of color, the neat presentation, and the perfect spelling and grammar will allow Riley's teacher to overlook the story's yawn-factor. Ooh, maybe she'll give extra credit if we throw in some glitter! (CVS is right next to Starbucks, I can go get some right now!)