|Purchased in Rome in June; first use this weekend|
How glad am I that it's this weekend and not last weekend? So glad, indescribably glad. But I'll try to describe anyway.
We've been in our new house since Wednesday. It's now definitely more house than construction zone, but the boxes everywhere, as well as construction tools scattered around, indicate that it's still in a state of transition. It's also situated three minutes' walk from a lake and three minutes' drive from a Target, which is a sweet spot I didn't even know I was looking for until I found it.
The three minutes to Target is proving especially handy at the moment, when we're making daily trips as we unpack and get organized and realize that we don't have enough hangers, or any sponges, or haven't found the pillows yet, or....you get the picture. On moving day I was there twice and DP went three times - an utterly unprecedented event in his experience. DP normally avoids commerce in all its forms, other than buying books at every opportunity.
His close encounter with the Target phenomenon produced a spontaneous observation Wednesday night of the who-are-you-and-what-have-you-done-with-my-real-husband variety: "Target really is great. I mean you can get absolutely anything there!"
(I suppressed all of the many, many inappropriate responses this suggested, and settled for a meaningfully neutral, "Yes, dear, I know.")
Meanwhile, Miss B started school on Tuesday. She's re-starting eighth grade because the Australian and US school years don't align, and the other option was having her miss half of eighth grade and jump into ninth grade. Everyone pertinent to the decision-making process agreed this was a terrible idea, and that the 10,000-mile move, cultural re-integration, and shift from a school with 850 girls to one with 4,000 girls and boys was quite enough challenges to be getting on with.
I think it's safe to say we were all feeling pretty nervous about this aspect of the transition, with anxiety levels ratcheting up slowly but surely over the month of August. I had chosen this school after a lot of research (and an in-person visit during a hectic week of school tours and house hunting back in April), and bought a house in the district on faith that I had made the right call. The closer we got to the First Day, the more I quietly fretted: What if I was wrong?
We were still in temporary accommodation on Tuesday, and we left the apartment shortly after 6:30 to make sure we had more than enough time to make the drive in early morning rush-hour traffic and be at school for 8:00. Miss B, normally a chatterbox, was almost entirely silent. When I reached the drop-off point at the main entrance, she looked at me and said, "Don't worry, Mum, I'll be okay. I can do it." Then she got out, squared her shoulders under her Tardis backpack, and marched into the building.
I made it to the Starbucks parking lot before I cried.
Pickup was in the same spot at 3:00. Miss B bounced into the car, and immediately said the following:
"I had a great first day! You made a good choice. You don't need to worry about me and school anymore."
And then proceeded to talk excitedly about her day, classes, teachers, new classmates, the entire way home, including a trip to the supermarket.
To say I was relieved and happy to hear this is a radical understatement. To have it confirmed by the rest of the week made every remaining hurdle shrink to inconsequential size. And now it's Sunday of the Labor Day long weekend - a milestone I've been working towards for months, when we'd be in the house, getting settled. It's nice to have it really be happening at last, and to be on this side of our 77-day transit.
I wish that everyone else could be having as peaceful a weekend as we are. I hope you are.