nine suitcases. take that in. no really, actually visualize what that would look like and feel the utter exhaustion that accompanies it. now picture the hell that is the tiniest airport in the world, and imagine maneuvering said pieces of luggage through it. without booze. no one will offer any.
now add in a baby. a hungry baby. one that is about to embark on a hell of an international adventure. one that requires clogs. the worst kind.
do we need to take a break? we can totally take a break. i’m getting tired just recounting the experience. and sad thinking about the missed booze.
i am sure a few people thought we were just super high-maintenance (something i have always been told i lack–thank you) to have brought so many suitcases and to those people i say, if only. no. no, the sad/awesome truth is this is how we are moved to another country–via suitcase. my husband travels a ridiculous amount so he has like, super gold-bronze-superman-holla status, and we were able to get all nine bags checked in for free. how freaking sexy. but so dang heavy.
we had one connecting flight. the little dude was a rockstar on the plane: nursed, flirted, and turned daddy’s legs into a jumperoo. but that was on the first, brief flight. the second (stupid long) flight was a bit harder. he still nursed (a lot–everyone had a nice view), flirted (better than his daddy), jumped (like a damn monkey–i can say that, he’s my son), but he decided he wasn’t getting quite enough attention so he wailed for a bit (longer than a bit, more like the thing that comes right after a bit, something that sounds dirty), and eventually, passed out for five hours on his mama. i, of course, did not mind. my booty, however… ouch.
totally forgot to mention this but my gorgeous, ridiculously amazing little sister came with us. she’ll be here for the first month. little dude thinks she is his present (she is). i don’t think i will let her leave. i hope she doesn’t read blogs.
we arrived at 8:15 am (dutch time) which is 1:15 am (nola time). i went from feeling like a mixture of death and jager vomit to an elated, drunk-like child gifted her first pony (apparently, i believe there will be more). i was sooooo flippin excited that we had finally arrived; that we had made such a huge, blind leap, that we were living one of our crazy, scary dreams, and that i didn’t puke on the plane (you should know that i do that). who cares that i hadn’t slept in almost 24 hours. (i do. i really freaking do.)
first stop after collecting our obnoxious amount of luggage (and yes, the travel gods insured they all arrived safely): checking out our new dam home. i am obsessed with it. like, i will openly brag to strangers about it. and not feel bad. unless, the stranger is homeless. then i would, of course, feel like a dick.
unfortunately, this big new beautiful house of ours was lacking a bit of furniture, as in, everything besides a bed. so after we dropped off the insane amount of luggage, we loaded up the baby gear (and the baby–that makes sense) and got on a silly amount of trams before finally making it to ikea. keep in mind, we still have not slept or ate anything besides soggy airplane food.
the ikea trip started out so well. i was given an entire new house to furnish and had perfected my happy dance. unfortunately, that excitement quickly turned into overwhelming anxiety, which then turned into sleepy time, which of course led to inconsolable misery, and ended up being a giant case of “i am dying. no i am literally dying. and you don’t care, husband. wahhhhhhhhh” drama. after five hours, two nursing breaks (by now i think all of amsterdam has seen my boobies), and a lot of other fun (read: horrific) adventures, we finally made it back home and awaited the overnight deliver of our furniture.
the furniture arrived around 10:00 pm. it wasn’t enough. but it would do.
the next couple of days were a blur: sleep. find dutch things. play with the baby. fight jet-lag. don’t fall into a canal. drink lots of pink beer. the usual.
but one thing was very clear: i had fallen in love with amsterdam. hard. i didn’t stand a chance.
and now i am going pass out. because it’s night-time in the dam. and i am a new mom and super lame. and i just don’t have time to frequent the red line district. duh.
i’m actually just going watch frozen. again.
here are some pretties of our new dam city. enjoy, you crazy kids.