It is what keeps me going. That feeling. No, not stress (though that is surely present), not excitement (though you can find it in the air), not nerves (part of the stress), but butterflies. I can't describe it any other way.
It happened before the first day of high school, it happened when I got on the plane to Ireland, it happened on the train to my first area in Russia, it happened the morning I was to marry, it happened when I checked into the hospital to get a week-late Seth here, and it is happening now.
I'm using hand soap to wash the dishes (which are mostly reused plastic cups and spoons), I'm not putting things away any more--like the broom and the laundry, and I've halted all efforts to clean. We ordered pizza in the other night and it tasted so much better than the canned concoctions I've been scraping up from the cupboards.
So as the tummy flutters continue, so will I, packing, taping, securing our life here so we can begin it once again there!