Today marks 27 days since we first arrived on a flight from Barcelona to San Francisco. In just shy of four weeks, we’ve gotten Amy’s permanent residence, lived in four different places, bought two cars and some furniture, started my new job, managed to get Sofia off to her first day of kindergarten, and eaten way too much junk food.

This morning Google reminded me that the return leg of our trip was leaving from SFO at 7:00am. Even though we never planned to be on that plane (a round-trip ticket was cheaper than a one-way flight), and we’re far too tied down to various leases and contracts to consider the possibility, it’s still a symbolic reminder that we’re now committed to making this move work. And so far, so good.

Now if we just had a sofa and some dining room furniture.