We've arrived. Sort of.

I actually forgot this last week that I have a blog. ha! I had a bunch of random thoughts yesterday while waging the war on laundry and was delighted to remember I have an outlet for my Random Thought Problem (hereafter RTP). (I suppose moving over to the new place took up some memory as well.)

Which reminds me, we are in our new flat!

I'm sitting at our Ikea dining table, watching the kids play Minecraft on a giant TV that the boys ordered from Amazon 2 days ago. It's way too big. Unholy, even. It is now set up on the floor amongst suitcases, cardboard boxes, and scooter paraphernalia, because the media console we shipped is currently hanging out in customs. The kids are in their pajamas, unkempt, and losing valuable education by the second. Still. No. School. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for hanging out rotting your brain and counting legos as the sole educational stimulation for a couple of months, but 3 months? I'm totally crazed. Actually, I vacillate between crazed and the desire to eat loads of chocolate and crawl into my bed. I almost begged the nice neighbor I met yesterday to come in and pretend we are friends so I could talk to someone outside the W clan.

Just another day of trapped waiting - for deliveries, installers, and school news. The two days of moving to this new place were, not surprisingly, full of mini emergencies, and unexpected problems.  It was like 24  up in here Saturday morning - Ikea delivery at the house at 7:30 am (we asked to be the last delivery), estate agent with the keys stuck behind train tracks on opposite side of our street, me as switchboard (almost like Jack Bauer), begging angry Russian driver not to leave, and telling estate agent to stop an Ikea truck she might see on the street. Later that evening, Cal rented a zipcar van to haul our 15 giant suitcases to our new place. We planned to do it at a time when traffic would be minimal. We did not plan for the van to have broken reverse lights that resulted in Cal being pulled over by the police, and then not allowed to continue driving vehicle with broken lights. He had to walk a mile to a gas station, buy garbage bags and tape, and then walk back to the vehicle and cover up the lights. Despite all of that, we had a good time at the Tall Ships Festival in Greenwich between incidents, and I managed to dye my hair pink. Good times!

And now we're living in the 6th level of hell - ikea assembly every night, wading through cardboard creations, and re-learning new household appliances. Guess what? A stove top is a hob. That took me a long time to figure out. Also, our new hob is induction, which I've never used before. Plus, Celsius.  Last night was like a bad hallmark movie. I just wanted to make dinner, I didn't want another sandwich, and I was hangry. I tried fiddling with the hob using my divine intuition as guidance, which turns out to be not so divine. Then I googled it and watched youtube tutorials for similar models, but still not the right model. (Newsflash - not all icons are universal.)Then I texted Cal and called sandwiches some bad names (which I now regret, because they don't deserve that kind of disrespect) and asked if he knew how to turn the stupid thing on. "I just want to make dinner!" I wanted to angry cry and chew my arm off. That's when I decided to scour the house for user manuals and finally found the right one. Hallelujah! 20 minutes into the saga, I managed to power up the hob. Then I made dinner for the first time in weeks, and I was strangely happy and content. Like I said, Hallmark drama.

The good news is that the kids were allowed to open their suitcases with the stuff they haven't seen for 2 months, so it was like Christmas a few days ago and they actually played with toys before the arrival of the gigantic TV . Once everything gets picked up a bit, and I stop using the stairs as my toiletry storage system, I will do a house tour.

Peace out and cheers!