Thursday, May 26, 2011

Moving On

It was in the 90s today. As I started the car in the parking lot at work, I had a brief flashback to the two sweltering years we lived in India. The seasons are changing again.

I came home to find my naked toddler running around the backyard. He was nothing short of blissful. I had a momentary punch-in-the-gut of guilt. Guilt for two years in Mumbai--one of which without his father. Guilt for uprooting him again in roughly two months. He's adjusted so well to America (except for the getting kicked out of school thing...details!). He's fallen in love with his assortment of grandparents, aunts and uncles, and even a cousin here and there. He has a fenced yard, a slide, a playhouse. He can turn anything into a rocket. (Seriously. Anything. Recently poops have become "rocket poop!") He's just happy.

Husband finished up language class over a month ago, and is about halfway through his next bit of training. I had my last progress test this week, and am now counting down to The Real Thing at the end of June. A week of vacation, two weeks of training, a week of meetings and pack-out, and we go. I gave 60 days notice on our house today, and Husband has already reserved our flights. Girl is about to get her first passport, a black one, which must be such an odd experience for a child: I was immune before I could commit a crime, I felt European before I felt American. What a strange life we've brought them into.

'Bye, Home-The-Kids-Barely-Knew. 'Bye, American license plates and right turn on red. 'Bye, Trader Joe's. 'Bye, warm May afternoons. 'Bye parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, and friends. 'Bye, normalcy. It was nice having you, if only for a little while.

Hello, Europe. We've been dreaming of you. Particularly on those sweaty Mumbai nights and the sandy Anbar days. I'm sure you'll never replace the Mediterranean in my heart, but I'm willing to let you try. Hello, Euro, how nice to meet you and your sometimes painful exchange rate. Hello, well-marked public transportation. Hello, brutal winters. Nice to see you again, absentee voting. Tere, eestlased ja teie raske keel. Ma ka olen m├Átelnud teie kohta. Meeldiv tutvuda.

We've managed to nearly overbook our remaining ten weekends, trying desperately to squeeze in everything, from Tel Aviv reunions to a NKOTB concert [girly clap, girly clap] to one of the most anticipated weddings of my life. Husband feels less guilt, less remorse at leaving. This isn't his home, never was. But I'm a Virginia girl, a Washingtonian, and damn if I'm not going to miss it.

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