by any other name

So the latest news on the relocation front: we should have clarity in a couple of months about moving at the beginning of 2013.

Since we’ve already done so much advance work on relocating our children (passports, school applications, selection, and admission,  immunizations, and even purchasing some winter coats) I can now focus more on that weird in-between emotion. I don’t know of a word for it: the feeling that lies exactly between wistfulness and excitement.

I really like our life here. We have friends, a community, a nice little routine. We’re a plane ride away from family, but we’ve always been a plane ride away from most of our family, even before my husband and I met and had children. (There were six years where we lived in the same town as my sister’s family. I loved that.)

And I love our home. It surprises me sometimes, that I love it. Generally I try not to get too attached, since I know that upon setting up house in any given spot, we’ll likely leave in a few years, but I do love the vibe of this house. Its order, its light, its sounds… It flows. It’s not too big, it’s not too small. It’s literally just right.

But moving–starting over fresh, in a brand new European place with clean lines and lots of light (I’m online a lot, reviewing rental options), with efficient use of space, with easy access to all of Europe, a top-notch bilingual education for the children, general safety and security, intrinsic beauty–it’s intoxicating.

Well. I love and cherish what I have and I look forward to more.

The word for what I’m feeling, between wistfulness and excitement? It’s greed.


It’s time for this corporate wife to clean her current home thoroughly. Hard work and a toilet brush do wonders for a greedy mind.

Our house is very, very clean.



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