My children inevitably settle far quicker than I do. The resilience of small children never ceases to amaze me. They miss their old schools, their house. They miss their Nonna. But they are fine, and that causes me to feel better without even trying.
The Chop starts his new school with the enthusiasm only a five year old boy can muster. His new school is beautiful, and sending him there makes me feel infinitely better. There’s a food garden, and a handful of pet chooks that roam the playground. His teacher goes by first name only, and teaches his students yoga.
My Bumpy girl started her daycare today, and, again, that makes me feel better. I’m in the New House by myself for the first time today.
And all I really want to do is sleep. I’m so tired. Just typing that sentence was enough to start the tears of exhaustion flowing.
This is difficult. It’s money stress and new place stress and general life stress, exasperated.
I know how to do this. Just keep going. Keep getting up, getting dressed, taking my meds. This too shall pass.
Right now, I’m too overwhelmed to keep my head above the waves.
It feels selfish, whinging about it. God knows some of you think I do enough of that already. The girl who can not be happy, even when she gets what she wants.
We’re close enough that I walk my son to school in the morning, mingling with the dozens of other mothers making their way on foot or bike or by car. Blending in is nice.
My Bump and I walk home, slowly. The air smells of jasmine and eucalypt. It’s the first day of spring in Melbourne.
We stop and smell flowers. We giggle. We skip and jump over cracks. It feels real. I’m closer to my kids already, and we’ve been here less than a week.
I chat to my mate Kristabelle on the phone, sobbing out my silly pains and worries to her. Of everyone I know, Kristabelle’s pep talks are always the ones that hit me deepest.
“A year ago you couldn’t have done this…” She says, and she’s right.
I know, I keep saying this. I have to. It’s become my mantra, a buoy to float on. I can do this.
We will stop and smell the flowers every morning, if that’s what it takes. Somehow… this is all going to be fine.