The kids were amazing on the flight. Noah was a champ, exceeding my expectations for his behavior by far. We basically walked right through customs (in Japan they really treat people with children like they should, take note, America) and before I could say Konichiwa! we were greeted by Jeff.
Noah's expression was priceless; a little half grin with a tilted head, almost like he was shy or meeting a celebrity. After a couple minutes of saying nothing, he looked at me and said 'Mama, I got DADDY!' He said it over and over.
We walked outside to the dripping hot and humid weather. Have I mentioned how much I loath hot weather? And when I say humid, I mean start-sweating-just-by-looking-outside humid. Unlike anything I have experienced in the States. And then there was the familiar smell of Japan. Does anyone else notice how all of Japan has a certain smell? Not necessarily bad, but I am sure it has something to do with said humidity.
Before we travel I always try to find the most perfect travel outfit that is the perfect combo of comfort and style, so I will step off the plane looking effortlessly beautiful when we meet Jeff. I managed to make the ENTIRE flight without leaking breast milk all over my shirt or without Amelia spitting up on me. And I was sorta OK with my choice of attire. And then the moment I stepped outside the airport the humidity had me sweating like a pig. Hair a frizzy mess. Unstoppable bags under my eyes from not having slept the whole flight. And then the milk came and went... all down the front of my shirt. (any breast feeding mother can attest to how annoying this is. And just imagine it happening when you feel filthy from a long flight to start.)
And now we are in our new house, day two in Japan. I am covered in breast milk and spit up and GRUMP.
Dripping in all the above.
The house is full of boxes of familiar items and unfamiliar spaces. I need to sort our things, to sort our life here, but I just don't know where to start. I am dripping in all the above things. Maybe I should start with a shower to take care of the physical drips. But then I have to find clothes to put on my clean body; a body that seems as unfamiliar to me as this house does.
I always want things to be effortless; effortlessly chic and beautiful while stepping off the plane and effortlessly acclimated back into our life in Japan. But this is going to take a lot of effort, yall.
It's going to take effort for this to feel like home. As hard as it was being on my own in NC we were in a routine. And I am going to miss so much about it. But I have to start the effort. Somehow.
Maybe after a nap.
(and for the record, just writing this down helped the grumpy drips.)