Four kids, and a fuckload of coffee

We Moved to The Netherlands!

So somewhere in December last year, we made the decision, over a cappuccino – to move to The Netherlands. My husband is Dutch, so it made sense that if we were going to move, it would be here.

We toyed with other places, but ultimately The Netherlands made sense on all fronts.

We got on the plane on the 5th of May and started ‘life’ again from the 6th. The girls went to school for this first day, we swapped our numbers and life carried on.

I didn’t drive for the first week, I’m a relatively new driver, and people had told me many times it was difficult to drive in other EU countries. But, after following my sister-in-law a few times, to get the hang of the 20/25 minute drive – I went out on my own. Now, I can’t picture driving on the other side of the road or sitting on the opposite side in the car – which is strange.

How quickly things become your new ‘normal’.

The girls are learning Dutch at a rapid rate, and we are due to move to the first house we will own soon – so I am looking forward to getting Dutch lessons myself. That said, I can understand so much more than I can speak. Pronunciation comes with time – which I have plenty of.

As a freelancer, I recently registered with the KVK, meaning I am now a legal business person here. I think doing something like that, cements you in a place.

We have a great routine right now, although the school the girls attend finishes at 2.15 – and that really cuts into your day, I find myself working late into the evenings – which is both peaceful and great for ‘me’ time.

So after 8 weeks, of living life as usual here, it’s been immersive and busy. But I wouldn’t swap it, not for all the cheese in Holland.

Good Friends & Shit In The Garden

When you’re in primary school, good friends are the ones who share their¬†cool ruler with you. You might go round for dinner, to play and spend the weekend in the park. As you get older, and you change into who you might be one day, good friends change too. It might be the girl who has fantastic eyebrows or the one who dresses grunge, or the clown – you find some piece of common ground.

Add some hormones into the mix and the next thing you know there are mass fallouts, broken hearts, fights and snubbing like you’ve never seen. And, some of those friendships remain intact for years. Inevitably though, there are some people that you gave your last tampon and 2’s on a ciggy to that you lost touch with altogether.

Facebook has made it easy for us to keep the plasters on broken friendships and send the obligatory ‘happy birthday’ and like at least 65 photos a year. Because, well, you’re friends of course!

Then there are those that come later. They spring up like weeds. Out of nowhere and they are deep-rooted. It’s often spoken about just how lonely motherhood can be for millions of us. I’ve always been one to relish my own company, but sometimes you need to tell people stuff.

I don’t need to tag or name or share this with my weeds, they know who they are. But, how did I end up with these weeds? Well, somehow I managed to find myself in the right place, at the right time. I always thought that you could just make friends like you do in school. Be in a place of work or learning and find people like you – or very much not like you.

But, as it happens, I met them by meeting two people who are total cuntbags, getting in a big group chat with cuntbags, and finally, somehow ended up in a little group of the most fragrant weeds you’ll ever meet.

The beauty of it is that we don’t all see eye to eye, we talk and bicker and express opinions, share memes and miscarriages, support when life kicks them in the fanny, and they can’t do anything that day. This morning another human took a shit in one of their gardens, and this conversation happened in unison with finding love and talking about how fantastic we all are.

There isn’t much point to this post, but there doesn’t need to be. I’ve got friends who tell me a human shit in their front garden – and that is pretty fucking cool.