We’re leaving for the US tonight! Well, technically tomorrow, since we leave the house at (wait for it)… 2 in the morning. Not particularly good flight-purchasing on our part, but oh well. We’re getting our suitcases packed, taking last showers, giving last baths, and making sure we have everything. I’m surprisingly calm about the packing (I’m usually one to have lists and lists and take days and days to pack. This time, we started two days before we leave). I’m so calm, and not worried about forgetting anything, that it makes me really worried that I’m forgetting things.
I’m really excited to see my family again. Excited to show Theo off to his Nana and to go back to my childhood home that always brings up memories with every corner I turn, every book I lift off the shelf, every crack and cranny in the decades-old farmhouse. To be honest, I’m also super duper excited to go to an American supermarket again–and see all of the products that were once so familiar and that I’m now used to being without. I’m excited to be in secret awe over the sheer size and selection–and to take my time walking down the cereal aisle. A whole aisle. Just for cereal. An aisle that’s nearly the size of the whole grocery store about a block away from our little Copenhagen apartment.
But at the same time that I’m eager to go home, I’m nervous. What if it’s not as good as I remember? What if I’ve forgotten all the irritating things, and only remember the good ones? And the biggest worry-cloud looming over the horizon: what if Theo screams the whole way there? Now, I know that a baby probably won’t scream for 14 hours straight (not counting the 4 hour car ride home), but…still. I also realize that there’s nothing we can do now. If it’s bad, it’s bad, and it’ll be over in not that long. But…still.
In positive news, we’re nearly done packing, and I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything important yet. We’ve also been practicing with the ring sling I got a couple of weeks ago, and he seems to be used to it now (and I’m better at adjusting it, which was definitely the biggest problem in the beginning). So I’m hoping that airport security goes smoothly, and that (pleasepleasepleaseplease) that the flight had another baby bassinet left that we can have (otherwise we’re stuck in the two middle seats in a row of four and…well, I don’t have to tell you why that would be bad).
I’m also a bit nervous about being homesick. That might sound ridiculous…seeing as I’m going home…but to be honest, that’s not really what I see it as anymore. It’s my parents’ house. It’s my childhood home. But it’s not really home. Denmark is home. Denmark with bike lanes and tiny grocery stores everywhere, pretty cemeteries and public transportation. I live in Denmark. My son is Danish. And I know I’m going to lie in bed at least one night, thinking about lying in our IKEA bed in our tiny apartment, with the sweet wooden kitchen and ridiculously small shower. But then, I realized that that’s okay. Because I’ll have something to look forward to when we get back–familiarity. I know I’ll be sad to leave my family, not knowing when I’ll see them again, and any homesickness I develop back in the good old USA will soften that blow.
We’ve been eating all the odds and ends that we could from the fridge (for instance, I had some whole wheat macaroni, herbed cream cheese, fresh mozzerella, and soy-hamburger all mixed together for lunch). We’re hand-washing the dishes instead of filling the dishwasher, and charging all of our electronics. We’re ready…and we’re excited!