A lot can happen in four years.
The Vachette has grown 20 inches and gained 30 lbs. You should see my arms. Not surprising I have a nice set of mom pipes.
She went from a little life-sucking blob into a walking, talking entity, a little person in her own right. Diapers feel like a part of our distant past. The milestone I’m most proud of, however, is her travel comportment. In four years, she has clocked over 200 hours of flying time. She loves airplanes. She gets so excited about boarding a flight. She races down the jetbridge with such glee. It’s a nice reminder how air travel really is a marvel, despite the cutthroat misery doled out by airlines these days.
Mr. Mad Cow started a new job, proved himself a coding superstar, and continues to rock the open source world. Bravo, honey. And, more importantly, he’s become much better about cleaning the kitchen.
As for yours truly, the highs and lows are not as easy to summarize. But here goes anyway: I became a mom (best decision of my life). I had to leave my beloved Zurich, the city I called home for six point five years for Mr MC’s new job (not the best decision of my life). We moved to San Francisco, a city I had never visited, , but everyone and their mother seems to love SF, so I should have no problem falling in love with the city too, right?
Despite the weather, the coffee, and the divine burritos (Oh the burritos! Mexican food never gets old after living in Zurich), I had issues adjusting. I just wasn’t feeling the love. Instead, I had a massive existential crisis and did the only sane thing I could think of: move my family to Boston where everything would magically get better.
If only it were that simple.
I got seasons and Bruins hats, but that pesky crisis decided to tag along. I began to wonder if I would ever be okay again. But, somehow, in the midst of the epic amount of snow we got last winter, I started to find my footing again. The storms were completely out of my control, so there was no point getting working up about them. We were warm, our house was snug, and it was just snow. I can think of worst natural disasters to deal with. Earthquake, anyone? And shoveling snow is a great workout.
Long story short, I felt pretty good about my inner New Englander. My wanderlust will likely never abate, and given another chance, I would likely jump at a future expat opportunity. But in the meantime, Boston is a lovely place to call home. We even bought a house, but more on that in future posts.
So a lot can happen in four years. I’m glad to be back.