I AM AMERICAN

Deep breath. It’s done. I did it. It was a big hoopla for a sweet little piece of paper that now unites our family – we are all dual citizens now. I suppose that may make me a Canarican, but that sounds too close to canary and as my daughter verified today that “Mommy, you really can’t sing can you?” as I belted out some song with the radio, we’ll just stick to the term “dual citizen”.

I went for my oath on Friday. We decided to make it a family event and also a day of being in our State’s capital. I got to pick out everyone’s outfits and it was to be a nice event. Strangely enough I was invited to be part of the oath at the “International Festival” where we stood in line for hours just to register and then had a makeshift courtroom rolled in so that we could be sworn in “officially”. There were 260 people being naturalized, and we represented 77 different countries; mine being the most un-exotic of them all. We had to stand when our country was called, and the most represented were India and Mexico. Realizing how many nationalities were there was pretty awe-inspiring, and imagining their lives and stories was invigorating. The rest was long and boring. We had to do our oath twice because the first time was “practice” since the judge’s assistant forgot to ask us to raise our right hand. Then, because it was an international festival, every committee and their mother had to give a speech, read a letter from their superior and congratulate us.

I was to be there at 1pm and so we imagined it would take about an hour, after which we would go to the Children’s Museum around the corner before dropping Mr. Man off at the airport. When I was still at the back of the long line a little before two, I told Mr. Man to take the kids… and really he wins Father of the Year for taking all four children by himself to the Children’s Museum. They had a fun time and returned exhausted and done close to four. Though I am regularly quite a lucky person, when it came time to draw a number for when I would go up to receive my certificate of citizenship, I drew #258 – the third last person to be called up. The kids were a wreck by that point, the camera left in the car and our special family ceremony was sort of a flop. And after about four hours of it all, I really could have cared less. One small blessing was that when were had to find our numbers for our seats, which were in narrow long rows, I was on an end. Helping my claustrophobia and making it easier to be with my family when they arrived.

I made friends with several individuals – mostly the ones who had children who weren’t fortunate enough to leave and go to a fun museum. It was enjoyable to entertain their children, and speak with their parents. And, for the record, nose picking in young children is absolutely a world-wide phenomenon (not just North American). One small child even made a meal of it.
We barely got Mr. Man to the airport on time and then regrettably had to stop for McDonalds for dinner. I suppose we really are American now!

One cute side note: When the kids arrived, Miss J asked if I was an American yet, I told her I was and just needed my certificate to prove it. She looked at my face earnestly for a few moments and then remarked, “You look different now.” Maybe it’s the foot softening lotion!

One more side note: Of course I brought no reading material!!! I was so bummed. A girl a few seats down from me pretty much read ALL of "Pride and Prejudice" while we waited!