So what will we miss from our stay in the States?

The space. 

1. Car parks: You really can’t beat it. I can park in any car park and know that I can get both girls in and out of the car without a problem. I remember, we I was eight months pregnant, pushing a toddler in a buggy, walking back to my car in a British car park and finding someone had parked with little thought or consideration on both sides. What would you like me to do? Climb through the boot? Leave my toddler in the car park while I reversed? Cue hot tears of frustration. In America, you can even drive into the city centre and park more cheaply than getting the train as a family. 

2. My mansion is my castle: The house is large and roomy. We have plenty of storage space. We have a back garden the size of football pitch. We can usually get the buggy into a restaurant or shop without people tutting and sighing at our audacity. We can usually get a table at a restaurant.

3. The people: We have made some good friends. People are welcoming, friendly, positive and polite. They will strike up conversations in a queue, sorry, line. They are interested in your accent, your travel experience, the fact that you’ve chosen to live in their hometown. 

4. The positivity: Attitude isn’t a dirty word here because generally the attitude is positive. Children want to do well at school. And positivity breeds positivity.

What will I be glad to leave behind?

1. The space: We’re currently travelling through Utah and Arizona. We landed in Salt Lake City and plan to be spat out in Las Vegas. I’m prepared to have my eyes opened by this country. I expect, and hope, to see amazingly wild geographical sights, impossible for man to replicate. I want to understand why man moved to a desert. I don’t want to see miles and miles and miles of flat nothingness. I don’t want to set eyes on anything as horizontal as Illinois. 

Don’t get me wrong. The city is fun and vibrant. Architecturally it probably can’t be rivaled in the entire United States. And the bizarreness of Vegas does not count. (By the way, if you want to see the Eiffel Tower, go there. Is life about ticking off a list of places visited or understanding why things are as they are in the first place? Country bagging or cultural enlightenment? I suppose Vegas will reveal it’s culture in a way, but it may not be one than endears me to the struggle of humankind. Persecuted Mormons moved west and struggling ninetieth century Englishmen braved rough seas and the unknown, for what? A casino and a fake pyramid. I’ll try and reserve judgment, but as you can see I’m not very good at that. I’m just going there to check these prejudices are true. It’s a research trip really.) 

So yes, back to the point, Chicago, a real city, is interesting and has historical context. But the suburbs? Well, on this trip I don’t want to feel the agoraphobia of suburban Chicagoland. That’s the space I’m happy to leave behind.

2. The people: As I’ve said, we’ve made some great friends. But it’s been slow progress. Despite the rumours, people don’t visit new neighbours with tray bakes and a welcome card. In our subdivision (estate), they gossip about how much someone has paid for their house, or whether they have a full-scale bowling alley in their basement (did I mention how spacious the basement is?) People in the suburbs are all mainly homebods. They have been brought up here. They have their friends, their safe and familiar routines. We are really interrupting this and we are transient. Send invites out to a party and even if it’s your 30th (a friend’s) or a leaving do (ours) people will sound excited and then either; a) ignore your invite, b) say they will come but not show up, c) say they will come but give a last minute excuse so ridiculous your four year old could sound more plausible when asked why she is smearing the breakfast table with butter. Really this is a selfish society. 

Another example of selfishness is the local driving habits. The onus is on you to get out of someone’s way if they are changing lanes, not for them to wait for a clear space longer than a matchbox. If someone asks you over for a playdate, it’s not your scintillating conversation that interests them, but rather the fact you have children of the same ages and will keep their darling offspring occupied for a while. It’s confusing when the signals are so positive. And I’m not sure we’ve really broken the code.

In four weeks time we are due to board a plane taking us East. I said I didn’t like the cold winters and Andy has obviously taken my dislike for extreme hatred and arranged for us to live in Dubai. Not sure I can complain about -25C there.

So another adventure is on the horizon, but first I need to reflect and make some parting observations of our American life.

The topic of weather is usually a good and very British place to start.

It’s true we did have a very long, and cold, winter. October felt almost British with its fresh cool air. The air conditioning was a distant memory and within a week the heating was warming our toes. Friends had told us that Chicago starts to batten down the hatches for winter on Labor Day at the beginning of September. August had been very hot and we thought it was premature. Perhaps it was our fault that the weather changed overnight – we did go camping after all – the rains fell down and the jumpers were pulled out of the cupboard. 

Talking of getting in the spirit of things, people do like to celebrate everything here. Corpses were hung from trees, bones were shoved into the ground (not yet frozen) to resemble disturbed graves, huge inflatable skulls adorned street corners. And I’m not really sure what we were supposed to be celebrating. Death? Being alive? All a bit strange if you ask me.

Before Hallowe’en there is autumn, or fall, to celebrate. Hurrah, the hot weather is over and we’re now in fear of frostbite. Does no-one remember how horrible it was last year? So autumnal wreaths are hung on doors, sheaths of corn are tied to mailboxes, dried corncobs are dangled from eaves. No harvest festivals though, so not a celebration of Earth’s fruits.

After Hallowe’en you can decorate your house for thanksgiving, generally turkey-based paraphernalia. This is the biggest festival in the calendar and very much focusing on food. 

Of course there are the baubles, lights and tinsel of Christmas and New Year, and then everything is strangely quiet. Having been mildly distracted by the pretty lights I begin to feel relieved that I didn’t have to keep up with the neighbours’ decorating competition. We don’t have all the gubbins and stuff required to turn our home into a gingerbread house. Of course, people have massive basements here so storage is not a problem. 

January, February and March were very dark months. I thought spring would be around the corner and I could attempt to decorate the house with flowers. Strangely enough they don’t seem to celebrate that, but St Valentines is a big deal. All the children send little cards and sweets to each other. It’s more about appreciating friendship than a romantic display, and that’s an idea to be lauded. Could do without the sweet giving though. I’m writing this in August and I still haven’t let the girls eat last year’s stash of Hallowe’en candy yet! 

Spring didn’t come at the end of March. Or April. At the end of May, my brother and his girlfriend came to visit and we had tickets for a Cub’s game at Wrigley Field. I had three coats on that night and was still so cold we abandoned the game after the seventh inning and retreated to the warmth of a pub. The month was so wet. Grey curtains of water were a frequent sight. Even in June I was still waiting for Spring but finally came to the conclusion that we had missed it. Mam and Dad came to visit and the weather was a little unpredictable. Some nice days, some cold days, some wet days and a few hot days. Generally, summers are too hot and humid to spend any time outside and after dark you get eaten alive by mosquitos the size of small birds. Winters are brutally cold, so you risk getting frostbite before you’ve managed to get the children out of the car, but it’s generally dry. Sledging, or to use to local term, sledding, is fun if you can find a day not too cold, but don’t try and make a snowman, because you need English snow, which is wet and slushy.