We’ve been here a week now and it’s been more than a rollercoaster ride. Ups and downs sandwiched in between highs and lows, smiles and tears, joy and frustration.
Moving is hard.
We’ve already overcome obstacles both minor and major, and we’re learning to cope with a life that is both familiar and foreign all at once. And today, we finally move out of the hotel and into our house. We still won’t have furniture, though, for probably another week. Another frustration to handle, hopefully with some grace and fewer gritted teeth and mumbled curses than I’ve employed in the past week.
I’ve got lots to share: our flight and how we handled luggage and the airport, our arrival in Heathrow — including a minor incident where we lost Quinn and Owen for a few minutes, our first few days in London, making our way out to the countryside and driving on the right/wrong side of the road, living in a hotel for over a week with four children and 20+ bags, our new house, the kids’ new school, buying cars, and the many differences I’m noticing between life in the US and life in the UK.
I never expected the early part of this transition to be easy, and I wasn’t surprised when it was hard. Those moments of frustration, though, are often accompanied by a severe case of tunnel vision where I’m sure that things are ruined and will never be okay again. (Oh, the drama. I’m the Queen of it.) Then we come out the other side and see that we worked through another difficulty, together, and that we’ll continue to do so as we adjust. I’m working on remembering that in the moment, and not just in hindsight.
This week has been nothing short of phenomenal — exciting and fun and challenging and enlightening, maddening and disappointing and exhausting. Matt and I keep catching each others’ eyes and grinning, realizing that we’re finally doing it, we’re making it happen, we’re living the adventure we talked about for so long.
It’s amazing, every insane moment of it.