You might have seen an inkling of this if you follow my instagram ps, @thatwildraod (where I post with a little more regularity than here, but in the end, that's not saying much), but here's a little more of the story.
I said, eight months ago, that I wanted this year to feel like water. I said I wanted to go softly with the stream, to follow the year as it unfolds, without resistance to the current.
I couldn’t have known, at the beginning of the year, how much I’d need that metaphor.
At the beginning of the year, it we had a plan. We’d stay in Jakarta for another two years. I’d work on my photography business, growing it and growing my work. The Chef would take on a few new projects at work. But things would be largely unchanged.
A month and a half later, we had a new move on the horizon. A new city. A new country. And then, right after that. Some more news.
A new baby.
The news was a bit of a surprise, and required a sift in energy and momentum. A third child is an undertaking. It renders the parents outnumbered. But also, for our little nomadic tribe, number three has other considerations, like possible career stagnation, health insurance costs, schooling fees, an additional seat to pay for on trips home, and, not to mention, an additional (unsleeping?!) body to mind during those long flights.
Of course, we landed on a place of expectant joy. Three feels like a good number. A friend of mine put it well: two is too neat and tidy, to gentlemanly. Three shows you’re an optimist.
So, here’s to optimism. And big families. And Baby number three. Arriving in November.