Let the unpacking begin!

And our things have arrived.  I have to say I was a pretty excited to see to see the truck pull up.  One by one they would unwrap each item right off the truck and we'd get a glimpse (as would the rest of the neighborhood) of our belongings. From beginning to end, it took 3 men just one hour to unload it all.  And then they left in a hurry to get to Switzerland to get to their next delivery before customs closed for the day.

I don't think I was ready for the emotions that followed.  I remember walking past what will be our guest/playroom and seeing all the kids toys peeking out of half opened boxes.  I was overcome by an incredible sense of sadness.  I couldn't totally understand why.   I could see the paints that Audrey loved drawing with.  Or the table and chair set that our good friend Stacy helped me put together one night.  The large basked of random toys that I'd be constantly picking up off our old living room floor. And then it hit me...here are the belongings from our home in Boston that are sitting in our new place in France. I say new place because it doesn't totally seem like home yet.  Its as if our most precious memories are now against the backdrop of an empty room making them seem incredibly out of place.  Don't get me wrong - this is nothing related to not liking it here.  It's just that both Jean and I know that the house we are renting is just a temporary arrangement.  In the next year or so, we hope to be in a place of our own.  So here we are, trying to surround ourselves by our memory filled belongings while making as few holes as possible on the blank white walls.  It's a strange feeling of transition.  But I am glad I can identify where to sadness is coming from in order to make sense of it.

We unpacked a couple boxes yesterday afternoon and woke up this morning to a house still overrun by boxes.  After breakfast we both tried unpacking more stuff.  I found that we were both feeling stressed and and a little overwhelmed and started getting a little short with each other.  Just then, I see Thomas and Audrey in the corner of the dining room.  Audrey somehow has Thomas giggling hysterically the way that 8 month old babies do when you repeat some mildy funny thing over and over again.  It hit me that they are perfectly happy in the midst of the chaos and disorganization.  Jean and I stop the unpacking we are doing and vow to live in a state of disorder for weeks to come to enjoy the laughter.  No need to hurry in getting everything unpacked.  It will all happen in good time.

Oh...and also like every 8 month old, Thomas has found the packing paper for the boxes much more entertaining than the toys themselves. Cliché, I know. Yet another reason to leave those boxes of toys in the garage for a little longer.