(Meandering Thoughts About) Settling In

Finally, after nearly a month in our new home, we’re starting to feel settled. The boys have been at their new preschool (the local Montessori school) for just over a week, James has been going to his office every day and LOVING it, and Zoë and I are working out our routine together. She mostly just screamed the first few days the boys were at school, which was both sweet (she misses her brothers!) and difficult, because the one thing I needed after more than two full months together as a family was definitely NOT a screaming baby who I couldn’t pass off to someone else.

Our things still haven’t arrived from Sweden - the earliest they’ll arrive is the first week of October - so we’re still making do with borrowed goods and rummage sale finds. Except for our sofa: we simply couldn’t do without one, and I’d been eyeing this one for a long time, so we bought it. We’re slowly pulling together all the furniture we want for the house (we didn’t ship much furniture from Sweden, just our personal possessions and households goods), taking our time to find exactly what we want and can afford, both new and used. I don’t know if anyone is interested, but maybe in the coming weeks I’ll do a post about the furniture we’re gathering; it’s an eclectic collection and I’m enjoying the process. Mostly. And we're going for a very different look than we did in Sweden.

My mind has been wandering a lot lately; it’s been hard to focus on any one thing when there is so much to do, so many details to attend to. I have half-thoughts about posts I want to write, but I don’t get to sit down and formulate them into full thoughts because there’s just no time. Zoë doesn’t sleep much during the day, and the boys resist bedtime. I get only a few stolen moments to myself each day, and sometimes none at all. I usually spend them doing dishes or laundry, ordering this or that online (bike helmets, lunch boxes), or trying to skim emails (but forget answering them).

Settling in has been made a thousand times easier by moving into the best neighborhood, with the best neighbors, we can imagine. I mentioned this in my last post but it’s worth repeating. We’re in a cluster of four houses next to and across the street from each other with eight kids, and almost every evening, the parents are gathered outside somewhere, wine or beer in hand, chatting, as the children run and play and tell fortunes. Yesterday, James and a girl across the street had a mind reading contest! (James won.) It’s all wonderful and sort of unbelievable, though we’re quite apprehensive about the imminent arrival of rainy season, when everyone hunkers down indoors and the children move less freely through the neighborhood.

Too, I must admit to having some rough moments of doubt and ennui. What exactly am I doing? What’s next? How should I spend my days? My life? There are times I love being home with Zoë, and there are times it drives me batty. For now we’re going with the Swedish model of parenting, where the older kids go to school to get the stimulation and socialization they need and thrive on, while I stay home with the baby for this first year or so and give her the attention and stimulation she needs. This is only a temporary situation, though, and next year everything will have to change: either I need to stay home with them all (though August will have half-day kindergarten), or I need to work—and earn enough to pay for care for three children! {Welcome back to America. Sigh…}

In good moments, I try to remember what my dear friend Kat told me, though: to be gentle with myself. To not try to figure it all out right now. To remember to do small acts of self care, like going for hikes, or writing a blog post instead of folding yet another load of laundry. The hikes are working: it is wonderful and beautiful and life-affirming to set my feet to a trail, baby strapped to my chest, and wander the woods, the grasslands, the mountains, in search of gorgeous views, swooping owls, and moments of rightness (all of which I have found in the last week). The moments are fleeting, but they're helping.

If Zoë settles into a pattern of long naps, I’ll be able to settle into a pattern of regular posting. I hope that happens, as I’ve missed this space. I've especially missed posting about things other than the current s@#tshow of my life: I haven't enjoyed being so much in my own head for so long.

All photos by me.