Moving countries hasn't been easy. I don't think it ever is, although maybe there are stages in life or personalities types that make these sorts of transitions easier. But we are now at the year and a half mark and I am definitely seeing the light.
Our weeks are busy, busier than they have ever been, as my kids glide (and stumble) from one activity to another. And as I drop and collect I can see that they are each individually finding their feet, that this is now truly home.
This afternoon I collected my daughter and two extras for a play date; my 8-year-old went home with a friend; and my teen walked to Starbucks with a classmate to "chat". Somehow I still ended up with four children but without the usual fights.
There will be at least one more play date this weekend, squeezed in between music lessons, coffee and farmer's markets. And on Sunday we will go on our weekly family adventure, a new ritual which we treat as every bit as sacred as others might consider a weekly religious service.
This morning I was out the door at 5:45am, taking myself and the dog for a walk. Last year, I doubt I would have greeted any day with quite that degree of enthusiasm.