Planes, Trains and Bicycles

It is 4:05 am on a Saturday morning and I have no little person to blame this wakefulness on.  It is all me.   I found myself very reasonably packing suitcases in my head…5 ½ months early.  Now I like to be organized and all, but this is just plain silly.

I didn’t do it intentionally.  My subconscious started it.

I started in the toy room, thinking of these beautiful gifts the kids received for Christmas. I don’t want to sell them or give them away yet but I know my husband won’t let me just put them all in storage.  We already have to figure out how to get a whole house down to one room.  So I debate shrink-wrapping plastic and think about the Alphabet Train and the Rescue Helicopter and wonder how much does a Lego plane weigh anyways?

And then I remember.  Lucas begged me to bring his bicycle back with us when we go.  The one he got in summer as an early birthday present from my parents.  The one that makes him light up like this.

IMG_3438The snow made me forget.

Ah yes, the bicycle.

And I said to him, “We’ll see what we can do.”  I said that to a 5 year old who still believes his Mommy is half-superhero.  It is practically a yes.

He made a list in his first week here of the things he wanted to bring to back with us and stuck it on the fridge.  It consisted of his bicycle, helmet (safety first!) fire truck, Lego and was modified thereafter to include every prized new possession.

A bicycle.

We did it before with a tricycle.  Let me tell you, handlebars were not meant to be packed in suitcases.  Maybe you already knew that.  You did, didn’t you?

I have about three suitcases mentally packed when I remember the bike.  It is enough to make me get out of bed.

At 4:00 am on Saturday morning, you don’t mince words with yourself.  You don’t try to pull the wool over your own bleary eyes.

I realize precisely why I am doing this.  I am trying to pack up this and bring in there and sneak it past customs.  In six suitcases.  And make it look like we’re not greedy or materialistic to the local family we live with.

They notice everything, you know.  New socks.  New shampoo.  New toys and protein powder and bicycles.

There is no hiding what we bring in.

But it isn’t about them.

I’m trying to bring here there.

I’m trying to make that this.

The toy room, the pantry, my wardrobe, the bicycle.
Cottage cheese, strawberries, whole wheat toast.
Apple sauce, cheddar cheese, mashed potatoes.
The Food Network, FaceBook.  Unlimited texting.
School for my kids. Plush carpet for working out.
Tap water you can drink.
Kleenex.
Grandparents.
Church.
It doesn’t fit.
My kids’ favourite foods.  My family.  Everything that is normal about life.

It just doesn’t fit.

I have to let go.

I just got here and already I’m thinking of letting go.

God grant me grace.

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