If you close the door to the guest room, ignore completely the top flight of stairs and its adornments, and consider the ironing pile annihalated as it will be by the end of the day inshallah, we’re relatively unpacked finally. It’s just under a month since we moved to Iznik. Moving to this quiet, historic town wasn’t just about moving locations, or renting a house not a flat, but changing our lifestyle entirely and in the past four weeks, G has spent more time with his sons, we’ve spent more time with time together than in the past four months put together: in a nutshell, the whys and the wheres.
The hows are where the fun of it comes in, but also where the trickier bits lie – like heating a big coal-furnaced house in -5 weather, figuring out how to pee when the toilet’s on the second floor and babies are playing on the first and the toddlers favourite pastime is “can I pick up the baby?”; explaining to a toddler why Baba’s office is out of bounds or why the stairs are not obstacle courses; tricky bits that thankfully are not really problems and so with heating sorted, necessary boxes packed away, beds moved around significantly,coffee pot plugged in and bazaar located, life has picked up its own tune with days beginning with M skid-addling across the room from his bed to ours, calling out “Baby?” as he runs, ending with all our heads on pillows in one room, T’s snoring synchronising our breaths.
Life’s pretty kind to us these days and M’s thriving on the freedom living outside a small town brings yet he is having days where he seems thrown a little, so on unsettled days when skimming stones cannot cut it I’m turning to what I know best: organised, premeditated mess.