It has begun

Moving that is.

While we don't have official confirmation, it appears the big truck that will come pick up our stuff may be here as early as Monday of next week. 

Seven days.

Seriously?

We sent our carpets off to be cleaned today. We want to get as many things done here in Turkey on the lira, as we know our life will get considerably more expensive in June when we are living on the euro.

The house already looks empty.

We are starting to do the buy-everything-we-have-been-meaning-to-buy-before-we-are-shipped-out-dance that we have seen all of our departing friends do so many times before.

A çai set. A handmade rug. Pashminas. Turkish stuff.

It's time.

And I'm not anywhere close to ready.

Not physically. 

And especially not emotionally.

I'm excited about our new house. I love the feeling of spring cleaning. Throwing away junk. Giving away  things you don't want. Going to a new place. Meeting new people. Eating new food. Learning new languages and a new culture.

But at the same time, I am comfortable here. My kids are comfortable here. This is home. I don't want to go.

I don't want to move again.

And this time, it isn't just me and JB I have to think about. This time we have children that are old enough to understand.

And the boys don't understand. 

They keep asking: "Why does William have to move to America?" "Why can't William go to the Azores with us?" 

They saw a big truck go to someone else's house. "Is that big truck going to come to our house and get our stuff, Mommy?" 

They ask me often "When are we going to the Azores? How many more sleeps?"

While I am excited I can't help but think not enough.