We boarded a Chicago bound flight just one week ago today. Final destination: Sopot, Poland. By the grace of God, we arrived here on Wednesday afternoon safe and sound, without any meltdowns. That is saying something with an overtired, didn't- sleep- more- than- five- hours, toddler. We had people praying for us, that is certain.
Our apartment is cute, the best decorated one yet. It doesn't look like a bachelor has been living here for oh... the past five years. It is small but cozy. Kaleb is having a difficult time adjusting to his surroundings. I guess I wasn't fully prepared for that. Our first full day here it was just the two of us in the apartment. I was unpacking his suitcase and all of a sudden he looked around, closed his eyes (which he usually does when he sees a stranger) and started crawling as fast as he could in my general direction. That is when I knew it would take some time for my sensitive little guy to adjust.
The days have been filled with unpacking, cleaning, walks downtown, trips to the grocery store, and a trip to the beach. Nights have been filled with a crying, jet lagged baby and poopy explosions resulting in middle of the night baths. (Can't wait for Kaleb's internal system to get the memo that we are in a new time zone!) John left the morning after we arrived for what was supposed to be a three day, two night tournament. Thankfully it turned out to be two days, one night. I was feeling really good about everything, like I had everything under control, but the initial adrenaline of sorts is wearing off. This is probably just where God wants me- trusting in Him for strength and patience with my unusually crabby toddler.
I probably haven't given myself enough grace, thinking I should be better at this by now. I just packed up my family in a matter of days, boarded three airplanes (and managed to lose my husband in O'Hare) and unpacked in a new country. I've never done this with a toddler who is totally aware of his surroundings. I need to give us both time... because it is going to take it.
It always takes time. However, somehow every year I seem to forget that it does. I can relate it best to having a newborn. All you remember are those sweet little cuddles, the tiny fingers and toes, the suck and swallow as they nurse... the sweet milky breath when they are done. You almost forget about recovery, about the sleepless nights, about the unconsolable cries. I think God gives you this amnesia of sorts so that you'll do it all over again. I guess somehow he does the same for this transition period of our lives each new season.
We are thankful indeed. Grateful to be back in Europe. Waiting longer than usual will do that to you, make you more grateful for what you have been blessed with. John is enjoying being on the court again, and I am happy for him. His team is hosting a tournament here this weekend and I am anxious to watch him in action! We must remember to treasure this simple, slow paced season of our lives.