It's been quiet on this blog for a couple of weeks now.
It's not that there's nothing happening; there's plenty going on in our lives. We're preparing for an international move, the Boys have just finished at the only school either of them can remember, and we're ticking off items on our 'Say Goodbye To Moscow' bucket list. We need to find a base in our new home-town, set everything up for a smooth arrival there, and re-establish some dormant relationships in the UK.
Having said all that, it feels like the calm before the storm.
Practically, I know that isn't the case. We've had an emotional few weeks - months, really, if I think about it - as we've gone through the mill of taking the decision to leave Russia, identifying where where we want to live back in the UK, applied for school places for the kids, been accepted (thank heavens), and dealt with the slowly dawning reality of what it will actually mean to leave the supportive community in a challenging environment that we've been living in for the last six years. More recently there have been tears as my children have said farewell to good friends and I've held my nerve to assure them that yes, they WILL make new ones, it may just take a little time. And of course Husband and I have attended a host of leaving parties, both for ourselves and for other people we know who are leaving Moscow.
Since the the school bell rang for the last time two weeks ago I've continued to sell / recycle / donate or just plain throw out the stuff we've acquired during our stay here and don't plan to move back with us. In addition, there's been the small matter of housing, buying new uniforms for the children, and making a flying visit back to Blighty for them to attend New Starter events at their new schools to deal with.
We're back in Moscow now for a couple of week's hiatus before the we move out of our house here. I feel as if I should be tidying - I KNOW I should be tidying - but actually there doesn't seem to be much left to tidy. I've been through the kitchen cupboards, I've given away the clothes the kids and I no longer wear, I've got rid of a load of paperwork. The only 'big' job now outstanding is to go through the Boys toys, but that can wait a couple of weeks longer.
And it's quiet - oh, so quiet. The communities we normally socialise with - Russian and expat - have mostly packed their bags and flown, either to their dacha, home country, or somewhere else for a few weeks or for good, depending on their plans. The Boys are in day camp, and Husband is travelling for business. I feel as if I should be making the most of my time, doing, I don't know, something, but instead feel as if I'm stuck, dealing with the small tasks of running our day-to-day lives but unable to settle down and get my teeth into the big ones, like starting to actually write the next book that I've tentatively planned out, for example. Or to make initial approaches to a host of agents that I've never met, no doubt waiting with bated breath to hear about my last one.
Apologies for what may seem like nothing post, but it helps, to sit here and blog; it reminds me why I started doing this back in 2007. What can seem at the time like a total lack of progress, whether it's the frustration of potty training a small child, dealing with the 'hurry up and wait' timetable of looking after two young children, or the ups and downs and sometimes what seemed like the interminable 'on and on-ness'* of being the main carer at home, my blog helps me take stock and realise that yes, I am moving forward.
And I can see that actually, this is not the calm before the storm. Having written all this down, I've realised that actually, I'm right in the centre of it. The eye of the hurricane.
* an expression borrowed from my good friend Jennifer, who blogs here and here.
It's not that there's nothing happening; there's plenty going on in our lives. We're preparing for an international move, the Boys have just finished at the only school either of them can remember, and we're ticking off items on our 'Say Goodbye To Moscow' bucket list. We need to find a base in our new home-town, set everything up for a smooth arrival there, and re-establish some dormant relationships in the UK.
Having said all that, it feels like the calm before the storm.
Practically, I know that isn't the case. We've had an emotional few weeks - months, really, if I think about it - as we've gone through the mill of taking the decision to leave Russia, identifying where where we want to live back in the UK, applied for school places for the kids, been accepted (thank heavens), and dealt with the slowly dawning reality of what it will actually mean to leave the supportive community in a challenging environment that we've been living in for the last six years. More recently there have been tears as my children have said farewell to good friends and I've held my nerve to assure them that yes, they WILL make new ones, it may just take a little time. And of course Husband and I have attended a host of leaving parties, both for ourselves and for other people we know who are leaving Moscow.
Since the the school bell rang for the last time two weeks ago I've continued to sell / recycle / donate or just plain throw out the stuff we've acquired during our stay here and don't plan to move back with us. In addition, there's been the small matter of housing, buying new uniforms for the children, and making a flying visit back to Blighty for them to attend New Starter events at their new schools to deal with.
We're back in Moscow now for a couple of week's hiatus before the we move out of our house here. I feel as if I should be tidying - I KNOW I should be tidying - but actually there doesn't seem to be much left to tidy. I've been through the kitchen cupboards, I've given away the clothes the kids and I no longer wear, I've got rid of a load of paperwork. The only 'big' job now outstanding is to go through the Boys toys, but that can wait a couple of weeks longer.
And it's quiet - oh, so quiet. The communities we normally socialise with - Russian and expat - have mostly packed their bags and flown, either to their dacha, home country, or somewhere else for a few weeks or for good, depending on their plans. The Boys are in day camp, and Husband is travelling for business. I feel as if I should be making the most of my time, doing, I don't know, something, but instead feel as if I'm stuck, dealing with the small tasks of running our day-to-day lives but unable to settle down and get my teeth into the big ones, like starting to actually write the next book that I've tentatively planned out, for example. Or to make initial approaches to a host of agents that I've never met, no doubt waiting with bated breath to hear about my last one.
Apologies for what may seem like nothing post, but it helps, to sit here and blog; it reminds me why I started doing this back in 2007. What can seem at the time like a total lack of progress, whether it's the frustration of potty training a small child, dealing with the 'hurry up and wait' timetable of looking after two young children, or the ups and downs and sometimes what seemed like the interminable 'on and on-ness'* of being the main carer at home, my blog helps me take stock and realise that yes, I am moving forward.
And I can see that actually, this is not the calm before the storm. Having written all this down, I've realised that actually, I'm right in the centre of it. The eye of the hurricane.
* an expression borrowed from my good friend Jennifer, who blogs here and here.
