There are probably a million things I should be doing right now instead of blogging, but I have these thoughts in my head that I simply must write so I can get them out of my head and get busy.
Do you ever have those moments? Where you have something you just need to say? You don't need to say it to anyone in particular; but you just need to get it out? No? Ok.
Do you ever have those moments? Where you have something you just need to say? You don't need to say it to anyone in particular; but you just need to get it out? No? Ok.
You may or may not know this, but my family and I are moving. Words cannot express how excited I am about this. If I tried, it would be words like "super excited" "can't wait" "eeeekkkk" and, like some like to do on twitter or instgram, a random string of letters "qjjkadquiybdkguauh" -- It would most definitely be followed by an excessive number of exclamation points (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and probably more smiley faces than ever necessary.
So, yeah - I'm excited. After nearly 2 years. of having our house on the market, it finally sold. The problem was, we were not prepared for the sale AT ALL. So, there was a lot of internet searching, phone calls with the realtor and drives around town while we were looking for a new house. We found the PERFECT house. I'm talking DREAM HOUSE kind of perfect. I may become a hermit and always stay home because I like this house SO much.
No. Seriously. It's that perfect.
As soon as our house sold, we started the frenzy of packing. We've been living among a sea of boxes, with newspaper and bubble wrap as an accessory . . . along with dog hair strewn about. I haven't cook a real meal in at least a month because it a packing spree, my husband expertly packed nearly everything in the kitchen.
I've been so excited to move that, at first, I didn't really think about anything sad. I mean, this house is PERFECT . . . what is there to be sad about?
Atleast that's what I thought . . . until my oldest (13) asked if I'd cry when we move and then actually said he might cry when we move. He rarely shows emotion like that; he only cries when hurt or in DEEP trouble. I reassured him he'd love the new house and that everything would be ok. We talked about his room there (which he hasn't seen yet) and all the other things that were great. Looking back at it now, I realize I basically took his concerns, and swept them away .... right under a rug ... so they were still there, but weren't something I had to see every day. But I didn't really fix anything.
A few days after that conversation, I was packing up their rooms and suddenly, it hit me. I had been so wrapped up in the idea of a new house I hadn't realized everything my children and I were leaving behind.
So, yeah - I'm excited. After nearly 2 years. of having our house on the market, it finally sold. The problem was, we were not prepared for the sale AT ALL. So, there was a lot of internet searching, phone calls with the realtor and drives around town while we were looking for a new house. We found the PERFECT house. I'm talking DREAM HOUSE kind of perfect. I may become a hermit and always stay home because I like this house SO much.
No. Seriously. It's that perfect.
As soon as our house sold, we started the frenzy of packing. We've been living among a sea of boxes, with newspaper and bubble wrap as an accessory . . . along with dog hair strewn about. I haven't cook a real meal in at least a month because it a packing spree, my husband expertly packed nearly everything in the kitchen.
I've been so excited to move that, at first, I didn't really think about anything sad. I mean, this house is PERFECT . . . what is there to be sad about?
Atleast that's what I thought . . . until my oldest (13) asked if I'd cry when we move and then actually said he might cry when we move. He rarely shows emotion like that; he only cries when hurt or in DEEP trouble. I reassured him he'd love the new house and that everything would be ok. We talked about his room there (which he hasn't seen yet) and all the other things that were great. Looking back at it now, I realize I basically took his concerns, and swept them away .... right under a rug ... so they were still there, but weren't something I had to see every day. But I didn't really fix anything.
A few days after that conversation, I was packing up their rooms and suddenly, it hit me. I had been so wrapped up in the idea of a new house I hadn't realized everything my children and I were leaving behind.
You see, I bought the house we live in in one of the most tumultuous times in my life. I'll spare you the details, but the boys and I lived there alone . . . I did the job of a single mom, working full time, while working on my masters degree. They were almost 5 and 7 when we moved in. Moving into this house was one of the most liberating yet difficult moments of my life. It was a statement -- "I can do this! I can raise my kids on my own. I can live on my own. I can be an independent woman." The boys were little; they needed a lot of love. And I like to think I did a fairly good job giving them the love and guidance they needed, while teaching, earning a masters degree, and finding myself. There were days we had dance parties in the kitchen while I cooked dinner. There were nights we snuggled on the couch - just the three of us and Max. There were times I locked myself in the bathroom, crying, because I couldn't figure out what to do and I was so exhausted I didn't think I could do it anymore. There were days I played soccer, baseball or football with them in the backyard. We got a puppy here . . . and later had to give that dog up. There were weekends when the boys were gone that I slept ALL weekend. This is the house where I learned how to use a power drill . .. I HAD to hang hooks to hang up my purses! :) My dad ultimately gave me my own power drill ...and I loved it. I painted my bathroom pink .... it was statement that NO MEN were needed in this house. We hosted Super Bowl parties and "dinner club" nights . . . I helped my boys with their homework.
This is where I recovered from an illness that nearly took my life . . . and I did it with my kids by mysids and my dog at my feet.
This is the first home my new & improved family was able to live in after Adam and I got married. This is where, after 3 months of marriage, my husband and kids had to help me recover from surgery. Gizmo joined our family here . . . and weaseled his furry self right into all of our hearts (even Max's)!
We grew up . . . we improved . . . we changed. Together.
I'm not saying we did this alone. Goodness knows that's the opposite of what happened. My parents, my sister & brother in law, Gina, Adam (even before we were married) were huge sources of support and help. I don't know that the boys and I could have done it without them.
But this move isn't the same for any of them. When Dima said he'd be sad, I don't think he's sad about moving. I know he wants a new house and a new room . . . I think its more of a bittersweet sadness. While it was hard from time to time, I think the boys and I realize we made it work. We did it TOGETHER. I learned so much about myself and about my kids during that time and, in a weird way, I'm glad I had the chance to live my life like that. We built our lives here . . . these last days are the very last pages of a very good book we've been reading. For a long time, there was no end in sight. The last few years, I've noticed the chapters and pages fading; coming to a end ... and now here we are. It's time to close that book and open the next one.
And I cannot wait to see what to see what that book . . . this next chapter of our lives . . . holds for us.