... the kids and I are in yet another country.
I'd mentally been referring to last week at the Week of Doom for awhile. The 288 boxes of our sea shipment were delivered to our rental house in Saigon last Monday. Three days after that, we (well, the kids, Chris's mom, and myself) got on a plane to start our forty-hour door-to-door trek from Saigon to Edmonton. In retrospect, the "Week of Doom" was a misnomer. Before the week started, I was mightily worried about the travel - our itinerary was unbearably and unnecessarily long - but after one full day of unpacking and organizing at the new house, I could not wait to get on that first connecting flight to BKK and get as far away from that filthy/disorganized joint in the sketchy neighbourhood. There were only three days of doom, to be fair!
The flights were a non-event, which came as a pleasant surprise. Madeline has flown so much that at six years old, she isn't any trouble. She totes her own carry-on bag, can scoot off to lavatory on her own, and is happy to plug in her headphones and watch in-flight movies. Sadie requires a lot more of my time on airplanes, but for our very long BKK-LAX flight, she (and her sister) slept for a respectable 8-9 hours. And she also slept the entire flight from LAX to Edmonton, so I can't complain an iota about last Thursday and Friday.
So, we're all here now. Sadie's first visit to the country that she is a citizen off but had never set a foot in before. I've once again fallen into the ex-pat parent trap of shopping-shopping-shopping for shoes, chewable vitamins, craft supplies, decent sunscreen, and the like. It's lovely to watch my kids play in a real backyard. Wish we could do this more often.
And today, my twenty-one month-old decided that it was okay to call me "Mommy".