Wednesday, 28 May 2014

The Mother-ship is landing, and this is good.

Holy crap snacks where does the time go?  Every time I sit down to write something I get pulled in another direction.  As I sit here writing this, I am distracted by the fact I need to leave the house in about ten mins to go look at an apartment with my Mum. Yuup, you got it, The Mother Ship is moving to NL.

Aaaaand back.

This is here is the main reason for moving over.

Yeah, this Monkey can work it.

If you had asked me a few years ago how I would feel if she moved over here, I would have thrown back my head and laughed.  Not unlike my pal Nicholas Cage here!

Don't get me wrong, I love her loads, but having her in the same country was not something that was on the cards.

I like my privacy and you could almost accuse me of being anti-social ( know right? Moi?)  I get seriously stabby when people are in my house for more than a few days.  I like it quiet, (I actually snorted tea out of my nose on that one) I like things the way I like them and ambient activity in my peripheral vision drives me crazy.  I will launch into a full fledged panic attack if I am not prepped and ready for any and all activities.  To be fair though, breathing in my general vicinity can make me nuts.  (How the fuck do I have any friends?  Oh, I know, they are all as mental as I am.)

So this week has been no exception.  On Monday, a very PMT me and Mum went to the market. I was a raging bitch from the get go. Trying so hard not to be, and then getting even more pissed off for the amount of energy it was taking to not machete my way through the day.  Best thing about my Mum? On our way out I gave her a blanket apology for any and all forth coming snarkiness for the rest of the day.  She looked at me with a raised eyebrow and said "Meh, what ever"  Cool huh?

So what changed?  Well, I guess this.

She went from being my Mum to a Grandma.  I had to share, and this was good. It used to drive me crazy as she pottered around my house, tiding up and cleaning (WTF was I thinking?)  I have a smallish apartment with no spare room, so any guest has to stay in the living room on the camp bed.  This then involves shit everywhere, raising my stab levels to that of Michael Myers (sans creepy ass mask.)

But it no longer bothers me so much.  Mainly because at this very moment she is mopping my hall floor! Yay. Seriously though, I am not sure at what point it became easier but it did.  I thought that her moving here meant I would see her everyday and we would kill each other.  This actually sounds kind of good now.  She has her space and I have mine.  Monkey can see her when ever she likes, and we have a free over-nighter babysitting.  Score!

The price you pay for living abroad can be a high one.  Especially when you have kids.  Logistically it can be a pain in the ass as holidays are always spent visiting family, and rarely actually visiting somewhere new, but all this changes with her moving here. I am lucky that my parents, though divorced, get on really well.  Dad lives in Norway and so does my brother with his family.  Easy.  So when I mentioned they could do a house swap, and never again have to sleep on the dreaded camp bed of chiropractic shame, it was met with all round enthusiasm.  Gosh I am clever.

So this week, we went house hunting. The possibility of having her down the road is kind of exciting and no longer stressful.  She has learned to really love it here in Den Haag, to get over her fears and picture herself as an independant local.  She has friends, and will no doubt make more, but the best part about her staying this last week, is that I have been able to get some sewing done, some sketching, drink a stupid amount of wine, stay out till an obscene hour of the morning, and have my laundry done.  Cool huh.

So thanks Mum.  You're all right for an old chick and I can't wait to have you on tap all the time. xx

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