Who knew it would be so different moving overseas as a family of three instead of a family of two? A few off-the-cuff thoughts on how different it really is.
Mama and Baby go a-tomb-visiting.
Happy 13-months-old-day in India.
A house isn’t a home until I’ve made brownies in it. Or until Chris has canned a jar of pickles. Or until we’ve made a meal seasoned with something besides soy sauce and bourbon.
What we do when we’re new at Post.
I’d forgotten about this part. This “we’re home but not really home yet” part.
Random ramblings from a jet-lagged mind.