Enrolling The Kid in a new school, meeting the new teachers, familiarising ourselves with the new playground.
Then a call from the speech therapist: sorry, she'll have to transfer us to a different speech therapist because that school is out of her "zone" and she won't be able to keep working with us.
Then a conductive education session in the afternoon: the therapist quips with a shy smile that she's moving back to UK and will transfer us to a new therapist.
And then I walk home and think, from The Kid's point of view, that's how life works, basically. A few months somewhere - change. A few months in someone's care - change. Live in a house - move. Set up friends - move and start making new ones. It's a constant: change.
And he's only bloody six years old.