These feelings are normal.

The other day I hauled my sheets into the house to wash them. I usually do laundry when I'm home alone and the older kids are at school, so it's entirely possible that Pete has never seen this happen. But the other day, they were all home, and he watched me lug them in.

"Did you pee your bed?" he asked.

For the record, "No."

"Then why you wash that?"

And these are the things I will miss when I go. Which is horribly, painfully soon. Especially for the family, considering they have not yet found my replacement.

They were close just a couple of days ago. Even I had approved of Ali, even though I was jealous of her, and she seemed eager to come. But then we got an email from her in which she explained that she just didn't think the pay was enough for the hours she would be working, and that another family has made her a very tempting offer.

It's unfortunate. But the joke's on her -- because whatever family she joins, there's no way her situation will be as good as this one. I want to laugh at her for that, even though I know that a to-be au pair in her position (which I was, just one year ago) can easily make that mistake.

So why am I leaving at all? I just got my schedule for the next two weeks, and I have five days off I didn't expect, as well as the four days I had requested in order to go to Paris. I delighted in that, as I have been delighting in it all year, and toyed around with all the trips I could take during those days if I weren't three weeks away from moving home.

So why am I leaving at all? I love not knowing when I might be rewarded with a break in my work week. I love the flexibility, the ever-changing schedule, the free time. I love not understanding conversations and making half-hearted attempts to learn Dutch. I love bicycles and canals and tulips. I love this family and their extended family and my silly Dutch boyfriend. I love the summer with its long days and casual feel. I love the little grocery store that somehow manages to have everything. I love shopping for shoes. I love to hate the train. I love cheap airlines. I love that working sometimes keeps me moving at 100 miles a minute and sometimes involves watching CSI while the kids all sleep. I love my living space. This is happy. This is ideal. This is familiar, safe, comfortable.

There. That. That's why.