It’s been two months now since we moved back, and I’m still getting used to Fahrenheit. I didn’t realize how much I’d adapted mentally to Celsius, since I never really totally understood it beyond “over 10 is ok, over 15 is nice, over 20 is warm, over 25 is hot.”
But really, that’s what you do in Fahrenheit too. “In the 30s and 40s” is cold, 50s ok, 60s nice, 70s warm, 80s hot. It took me awhile to remember this mental shorthand, so I kept all my weather apps in Celsius, and confused my colleagues by saying thing like “oh, 18 tomorrow, great!”
Adapting to pounds has been just as tricky, at least for food purchases. Ordering groceries online means I don’t get to see things first, and I’m always surprised how small 5 pounds of something actually is. Bébé just went to the doctor and he weighs 24 pounds and I’m like… so is that good? Though really, I have no idea what children are supposed to weigh in either pounds or kilos, so I just plugged it into the growth chart and was reassured that he’s following his normal curve. (At least he has managed to avoid bulking up on American food, unlike his parents!)
Centimeters never clicked for me anyway, so talking in feet and inches is at least one thing I’m totally fine with (besides with bébé for the same reason as weight). And I kept baking with American recipes in France, sometimes converting, sometimes using cups and spoons a friend sent over, so that’s been okay. Except milk and juice and things that come in pints and gallons. Bébé’s bottles are in milliliters, so I keep forgetting to do the math before going to the store and either get only enough to last two days, or waaaay too much. And since it isn’t the bricks of everlasting milk like in France, getting too much means we’re wasting quite a bit, which I hate.
Anyway, I just thought it was kind of funny how hard it was 8 years ago to get used to new measurements, and here I am going through the same thing again! An unexpected element of reverse culture shock.