Untethered...

When the plane hit the tarmac at the airport, even my younger daughter quit complaining about her stomach ache and looked out. Having left here less than a year ago, never imagined that we would be back here so soon. And certainly not this summer. But the next 6 weeks or so, we are here to stay as a family of 4. Of course, the first time is always memorable and I still recall the chill of a grey September afternoon of many years ago, Braxton-Hicks accompanying me as I was well into my 7th month when I landed. All the firsts come to mind - registering in the commune, the pond with the ducks and geese, the strange smells of the place, the feeling of being an alien and newness of it all... Of course, there have been many times we came and went since then, only the last one had a finality... or so I had thought.

This time on landing we made a quick march to the toilet where Big G threw up the blueberry pancake she had relished on the flight. I was preoccupied with the recalling the unused (for a year) Dutch and attempting to speak with the officer at passport control. I still maintain that unused languages evaporate, just like nail polish remover. We were collected by the waiting husband, driven to the new apartment, in a different neighborhood. En route, we passed Doggeweg, just one of the many strange names I'd idly wondered about in my previous stay here.

Yet another apartment, and unpacking and an attempt at settling in. I discovered I have not packed all my clothes. It was a case of unpacking suitcases and replacing the contents in the cupboard and removing clothes from the cupboard to fill the suitcases. Clearly, things got mixed up. I have to always pack for 3. So it gets overwhelming after a point, what with other stuff to manage.

Life was good here on various levels, and we lived typically on 1 year extensions. If that sounds strange, it is perhaps I put too much thought into it. Most people perhaps just take things as they come. The trauma of leaving all that we had gradually and lovingly built and gathered for our family still remains. I do maintain that I am not a particularly materialistic person. Sentimental yes. So, when I am in this pristine apartment, washing and rewashing the 4 ceramic plates lent by a friend I feel a bit on giving away my first ever dinner set. Nothing fancy schmancy, innately practical, and bought at a good price point. Used for all my entertaining in the last 5 years. Off late, there has been room in my life for only the bare essentials and the practical and I seem to be eschewing doing anything just for the fun of it. Such a burden this, being so exacting.

Kids are delirious with delight to be with their father. I leave them to cuddle as a threesome and repair to our room. I am on vacation, but this is no holiday home. In fact, it is more my home than the one I have come from. I takeover the responsibility of kitchen, cleaning, shopping, planning and of course, the children. Always the children. We are rediscovering old places and things, we used to frequent. To begin with, Tiger biscuits for the kids, cherry tomatoes and avocados were my indulgence. Mostly, I am detached. Tomorrow, we plan to meet up with an old friend - that I am looking forward to. My life back home, on a pause mode, pings me from time to time.  I will need to make arrangements to pick up the school uniforms next month.

As a family, we are together for the short while. I can ask, how was your day? And show my true moods, flare up without explanations and apologies later.  Back home, when I see a family out for shopping, or a couple together, there is a dull ache in my heart. Feel lighter on the parenting bit, went for a run - the only person in the park, pretty normal here, I assure you, and yet I was used to watching my back. And so on...