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Ch…ch…ch…changes

Like a hot child next to a cool swimming pool I’m going to dive right in: we’re moving to France! A little while ago I blogged about change gonna come and it’s taken ages to finalise but it’s now official. I’m excited and terrified. Last year we visited France on holiday and loved it. Ever since the referendum we’ve been talking about how the time for such an adventure is now, whilst it’s easier to move within the EU but also the kids are the right age. If we leave it later it’ll be difficult as the kids will be near the end of primary school.

My head is realing with lists of what to do, who to phone, what memberships to cancel. I mean, what do I do with the points on my Boots card?! Should I worry about buying the right suncream for my sensitive skinned children? I know France is a civilised country and has suncream so surely worries like that are ridiculous.

Then there’s the biggie: the language difference. I can speak some French, enough to order in a restaurant or ask directions but not much more. I’ve always wanted to be able to speak another language. I actually did 2 or 3 weeks of French A level…before realising I was out of my depth. Oh, how I’m kicking 16 year old me right now!

Everyone has reassured me that the kids will pick up the language quickly. I’m not too worried about them speaking French – they’re the right age. It’s me I’m concerned for!!! But I get lessons…I’ll need them.

Then there’s the French education system. It’s quite different to the British system and in attitude as much as in formation. I think I’ve got my head around it now after much research. But that’s one decision we’ve made, or I’ve made, firmly: to start with I’m going to home-school the older kids. As Merida and Finn are 9 and 7 respectively it’s only fair they get a say in their new school. So we’re going to look when we get there. That way we can all relax a bit, it doesn’t matter when we move and the kids get to see their prospective schools. I want them to go to a school because I want them to socialise (as they’re both very social bunnies) and get the language.

My husband, as it’s his job we’re moving for, is trying to organise dates etc with those at the company who help us move. I’m not even sure if he’s excited yet. I’ve forgotten to ask him. *Yells downstairs* “Frank!? Are you excited about France?”

A friend of ours, who is off travelling with her family (follow her family’s adventures here) reminded us not to get bogged down in the details. She said they will sort themselves out and it’s the adventure that is the main thing. That’s slowly becoming my mantra as I chuck out old wellies and lunchboxes.

I admit to shedding a little tear as I wrote the email to school. It’s a wonderful school and we’ll miss them. But as I told my good friend, no crying until August. If I start crying now I won’t stop. I’m not good at goodbyes.

Right that’s enough emotional stuff. I’m off to phone Boots!

À bientôt!

Josie. Xxx