Best. Delivery. Ever.

Setting up a home in a new country without a car involves getting a lot of deliveries, large and small. Anyone who has lived with me knows my unhealthy love for packages and deliveries of all kinds, no matter what's inside.

As a result, the past three weeks have been filled with squeals of delight each time there's a knock at our door: whether it's from the Ikea man,

(it's hard to believe this transformed into a table, chairs, and a couch)

the organizer store man,
the moving company men (that one was especially good...),

(our stuff!)

the refrigerator man,

(Oh no. Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen...)

or the dryer man.

These deliveries have been particularly exciting because they represent our house becoming a little bit more of a home, my life falling into a little bit more of a routine, and every-day activities I used to take for granted becoming a little more convenient.

But my favorite delivery came all the way from the U.S. in the middle of the night on Wednesday...

(My Mom!)

Best. Ever.