Time flies when we are traveling. It seems almost unfathomable that it has already been a week since we left Indonesia. Already we have had seven days here in Perth, seven days of eating western food (and sushi, oh the glorious sushi), seven days of family hugs, seven days of hot showers and clean-water baths (ones where this mama doesn’t freak out every time Bo drinks the water, which is about every 2.2 seconds). We have had seven days of jumpers and windy beach-side walks. Seven days of crisp winter air and washing machines that do all the work for you. We haven’t done much. We tried to get to the mums and bubs session at the library twice, and missed both times. We have had lots of cafe catch ups. We attempted to catch up with friends and plans fell through. We did see friends though. And family. And ate lots of glorious food.
Like always when I am in one place I am homesick for the other. Perhaps it is because whenever I am here, not all of me is here, because one part of our family isn’t with us. It’s never the same when we are all split up. No matter where I am I seem torn, never allowing myself to sit still long enough to just be, right here, right now. But here is where I am, and it’s lovely to be home… but already my feet are itching… my hometown does that to me, it’s home, and home to me is a safe launching pad into the next unknown. If only the three of us were here together, then we could launch off into the great unknown as one. I can hardly wait for the end of the year when this shall happen… united once more and free to choose the path we want without any of that pesky red tape in our way.
Bo has been going in leaps and bounds and seems hell bent on mastering every movement-based skill imaginable before she hits seven months. We would like her to slow down. But she’s determined. And who am I to stand in the way of progress?
Big love to you all… but mostly to Ni, a week already seems like forever apart.