I will confess the first few days were tough, the kind of roll up in a ball and cry tough.
Now I'm celebrating my freedom for a few days, but guilt is creeping in slowly. He's our 4th child to leave home, it doesn't get easier especially as he's only 14.
We sat down and made a list of all the things we wouldn't miss about our 14yo son. You can read them here.
Then there was the acknowledgement that as an expat life is one big constant change.
The selfish part of things, the 'how am I going to cope?'
The packing finally gets started with a major sort out of the bedroom.
Then there is the last ever school run after 17 years.
The last outing together.
The goodbyes at the airport.
The 18yo is back in just under 2 weeks, so Operation 'call for the men in Chem suits' has started.
I've got around a week to clean, re decorate and re arrange the rooms before I fly back to the UK. Two reasons for my return are:
1. the tenants are finally out and I'll start blogging about the state of the house, damages, thefts and costs soon.
2. we can afford the flight for me to be the one to settle son into his new school, so I'll see him again real soon anyway, just can't seem to find a flight.
He returns to us for Christmas for 2 weeks and again for the major UK summer holiday. I'm hopeful I can afford to spend Easter with him in the UK also, but that will depend on finances.
I'm just not sure how I'll manage all the time in-between.
But for now, the house is tidy, the coke is still in the fridge, the chocolate bars sit in the cupboard, the washing and ironing is all up to date. I'll start the painting tomorrow as long as I can persuade the cat and the dog to stop following me around the house, they've very quickly filled the space.