We have now been in Switzerland for 4 months, 1 week and 1 day. Last time I wrote about it I was feeling far more positive about life here after a fairly difficult start.
Since then, I have realised that Ronan Keating was entirely correct all of those years ago with the words: "life is a rollercoaster, just got to ride it." I am sure there are other songs with perhaps more 'higher brow' lyrics, but this one is the only one that's coming to my toddler- drained mind right now...and ultimately, the sentiment is the same: there are peaks and there are troughs.
Right now, I am finding my way out of a bit of a trough.
The Highlight Reel
Looking at the photographs on my social media accounts, you will see a gorgeous lifestyle that in some ways must make it seem like we are on a permanent holiday... but it is a highlight reel.
Without a doubt we have loved the endless sunshine to the smell of the earth after a wild storm; we've explored beautiful places and discovered new favourites; we've soaked up fine wine, eaten some of the best pasta of our lives and enjoyed summer-long festivals.
We are starting new traditions as part of our new life here too - gelato at Gelateria Meno -9 before  a walk through the park, or sandwiches at Gabbani after a morning of shopping.
It's ace!
So please don't think I am complaining. I know how lucky we are to have this opportunity.
One of my particular favourites is the feeling of being in a big village. Even though it is a city and we have lived here for a very short time, it is rare that you will go somewhere and not bump into somebody you know... and everybody seems drawn to our quirky little bouncy barnet-ed boy which is wonderful.
And perhaps above all, we've adored having loved ones to stay, showing them the beauty of the place we are making home and seeing them instantly relax surrounded by the stunning mountain peaks.Â
But beneath that, there are challenges too. Challenges I knew that we would face and was ready for, and others that have crept up on me and it is those which are perhaps the most confronting.
The Cutting Room Floor
Switzerland is a unique place, and one governed by many rules. We have it easier in this neck of the woods, than the German or French parts but we nonetheless had our first taste of this rule driven culture when we signed the contract for our apartment: no using the bathtub for improper purposes, no practicing singing before 10am...
Ultimately the rules are there to make sure everybody gets along and shows mutual respect, but it can start to make you feel a bit paranoid and on edge if you let it:
I live in fear of Mabel having a wee on the pavement, and don't even talk about doing hoovering on a Sunday. What will the neighbours say if Jude leaves handprints everywhere and I can't clean them off fast enough? What if I accidentally put some cardboard in the wrong bin and we encounter a huge fine? What if someone sees my laundry on the balcony and reports me for bringing the neighbourhood into disrepute?
On top of that is the communal laundry room saga itself. It is a lot more relaxed here than in other buildings, but not everybody has moved in yet and as the building starts to fill up, along with the available 'slots for washing' it gets tricky - especially with a small child who manages to get more stains on his clothes than an Ariel advert, and who, as a result, goes through more outfit changes than a catwalk model.
Currently I am spending one whole morning and one whole afternoon a week doing all the laundry. If anything needs an urgent wash in between these times, it has to be done in the sink. Sometimes I feel like I have accidentally gone back to the 1950s instead of just coming to a different country.
These washing times also have to be signed up for a whole month in advance which takes the spontaneity out of our days, and Jude hates it - as do I.
So fed up with Jude trying to escape into the car park, or up the stairs; washing machine doors being slammed on my head, detergent being spilled, tumble dryer fluff being extracted from the bin and my clean laundry dragged all over the floor, I have now started to put him in his buggy... but roll on the day (in the not too distant future) when we will have our own washing machine.
Sweating it Out
Also roll on the cooler weather.
I hate to complain about this as the beautiful long days have been one of the things I have loved the most...sunshine day after day is what we all long for in a summer isn't it?
But the heatwave that hit England, has also hit here - only with more of a punch. It's all alfresco eating and Aperol drinking when you are on your holiday, but when you are not, it is the reason why all our neighbours disappeared off to the mountains for the whole of August.
Lack of aircon in 30+ degree heat day after day can make things quite relentless, especially when many of the playgrounds are in full sun and there are limited indoor places to play. There is the Lido of course - but at a cost.
I also look forward to the days when I am not covered in a permanent sheen of sweat.
On the plus side, I haven't had to worry about chub rub, as my thighs have just slid past each other - and since breastfeeding, I daresay I could carry whole icepacks underneath my boobs, should the underboob sweat become too overwhelming. Thankfully I haven't had to resort to this - yet.
It will however, be quite nice to spend the evenings not having to decide between boiling in my own skin - or being a couple of degrees away from boiling point yet attacked by mosquitoes, midges, moths, hornets and flying beetles.
It's All Italian To Me
The biggest challenge I have encountered though of all is the language barrier. I have one hour a week with a tutor and every day I aim to spend more time doing independent work, but the reality of finding this time when I rarely even get to have a wee without an audience (Jude that is, not David) is a different matter entirely.
I know I am making progress as I can manage the basics in shops, the supermarket, restaurants and bars. My proudest moment is coming out of the local shoe shop with two pairs of shoes in the correct size for Jude. I declined the boiled sweets offered to our 16 month old and instead procured him a balloon on a stick, all without speaking a word of English.
I can also read the endless paper trail of official letters (the latest one was in French) involved in a move to Switzerland without needing to turn to google translate quite as often. I can follow along with snippets of conversations when face to face (or earwigging in the park.)
But I can't make telephone calls to a doctor for Jude's check up, or the vet to arrange treatment for Mabel's ear infection. We still haven't got doctors for ourselves. I can't engage in small talk with strangers either unless the only responses they need are 'Jude' 'Diciasette mesi' 'si' or 'no.'
We are becoming more and more integrated into the English speaking community which is an absolute lifeline. But it is impossible to feel nothing other than frustration when every interaction beyond that requires thought and rehearsal. I had known that it would be challenging, but I hadn't quite understood how isolating it would feel.
It ain't called a language barrier for nothing.
My tutor says I need to be patient, and keeps reminding me we haven't been here long, but it's not in my nature. I thought that I would love the challenge of learning a new language, and I am sure I will when it all starts to click, but for the moment I am just feeling a bit stuck...
...so on that note, I am going to leave this here and watch the Italian version of Hey Duggee. It might only help me to tell people I have got my flower badge, or how to ask for 'un abbraccio da Duggee' but it's start, hey?
If anyone's got any tips on how to learn a language though - and fast - I am all orrechie.
A dopo,
Rachel xxx