We found a house that we agreed was perfect. We're renting it, and we're all moved in. In fact, we have been here a month. We have decided that we're living adventure life. Every year when our lease is about to come up, we'll check the realty sites for other interesting places to live. Right now we're in a cute little suburban development. It's a blue collar neighborhood with lots of machinists firing up their grinders during the day, and kids riding around on their mini-bikes and quads and such. We have a caged pool, a big lanai, and Pete has his office. I even have a place for my antique fainting chair where I can mesh the old with the new by lounging and reading my Nook.
There are always downs to the ups, and of course here, too. The drive to my eldest son's school is intolerably long, but that will be over on June 7th, and we'll enroll him somewhere closer next year. The pool isn't heated which means I can only swim in the hottest temperatures. But it looks like it will be a hot summer, so there's that, too. We live further from the Gulf than I could have liked, but we still go on beach picnics for dinner on Fridays so I guess we're not too far away.
Life is getting back to normal. I am doing the food shopping, the cleaning, the homework, the diapers/potty training, and I can sit watch TV without worrying about disturbing the rest of the household. Pete does the earning, the cooking, the laundry and story time. On the weekends, we each do nothing much. And we like it this way. It makes us happy. Sometimes at night we sit around talking about how happy it all makes us. How pleased we are to have found each other, and how lucky we are to have such a fantastic family.
Tomorrow is Lucian's big dance recital and I am SOOO excited. I can't wait to see what his part in the production will be. I know that it's a production of 4 year olds, and I'm not expecting to see Swan Lake or anything, I just - I dunno - I'm excited!
This is the year, people! The year when everything is going to move forward. Val will poop in the potty this year. Lucian will read a book. I will get a dark tan that may last until 2011. Pete will have a 36 inch waist.
Please don't point out that my optimism is coming in May. Perhaps I mean 12 months rather than calendar. Maybe not. But I'm very excited about this year. So far everything has gone according to plan, I foresee it continuing to do so.
Showing posts with label domesticity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label domesticity. Show all posts
Friday, May 14, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
What Makes a House a Home?
We have been out searching for a new house to live in. We're renting so the idea of having to find something that we'll be happy in for 30 years isn't really an issue. But we've spent over a year living with Pete's parents and, while they are probably the best in-laws ever, they live differently than we do, so it hasn't always been the most comfortable situation. So there's a little pressure (that we've put on ourselves) to find the "perfect" house.
We have a few musts that we know for sure. Location is a big one. I drive my slowly toning butt to the gym every weekday. Currently, it's a forty minute drive each way. I want it to be less than fifteen. I must have a pool. I have two small children, I live in Florida. If I can't spend my summer days in my back yard watching my kids swim, why did I move to Florida? Also, that pool has to be caged - I hate bugs. Pete needs an office. He works from home and deserves to have a space in the house that he can reasonably expect to be left alone to think and work. The neighborhood needs to be family friendly. Not that it has to have a park within walking distance, or that the development needs to be brand new, but, you know, just... nice. Quiet, even would be good.
After that, it's all gravy. One story, or two? One car garage, or two... or three? Close to the water, or close to the highway? Gated community, or not? Do we care if the neighbor has a boat in his driveway? No. We don't.
I thought we weren't being very picky. I thought we'd be thrilled with the first place we found with our musts. And honestly, we were. But it was a little pricey, and even though I hate to admit this, it was too big for us. We fell in love with a townhouse in a posh development, too. But it was also a bit pricey, and the community pool was a little too far. Now our favorite is an older house, which the owner has renovated, remodeled, added-on, and basically turned it into a one-of-a-kind place with a lot of character. It looks like a jungle in the back yard, in a good way. I kind of expect to find pirate treasure buried back there. And it has a view of the bay from an upstairs wrap-around balcony. The master suite is upstairs, and is HUMONGOUS. Room enough for our king size bed, and a couch and our giant TV, and then the closet is a room big enough to use as a nursery - not that we plan on needing it for that, but you know, it's BIG.... but the master suite is the only thing upstairs. The kids bedroom is downstairs. And that makes us nervous, because we don't like to be that far away from them when we're sleeping.
So we're continuing to look. We're keeping in touch with the owner of the current favorite, thinking we may be able to reconcile ourselves to sleeping a whole floor away from the babies. But we have appointments to see at least four more houses. And now that the new month has started there will be more listings to search through.
But I wonder. Will we find a house that screams our name? One that is cheap enough to afford our lifestyle, and big enough to house our hobbies? Will we find a house that we can agree on that it's perfect? And what makes it perfect anyway? Will we have to compromise on one of our musts to get more of our wants? How much responsibility for our happiness can we reasonably put on a building, or a town? I can't stop wondering if we will ever find a house that we don't feel lukewarm on. I've always been of the opinion that happiness is yours to make and that you can be happy anywhere. But this last year has clouded that opinion. And I feel that if I don't pick the right place, I have a year of awfulness ahead of me. I don't want awfulness. I'm ready to shed all my discontent and bask in the joy my family brings me.
I hope I find the right place... before I sign a lease on somewhere else.
We have a few musts that we know for sure. Location is a big one. I drive my slowly toning butt to the gym every weekday. Currently, it's a forty minute drive each way. I want it to be less than fifteen. I must have a pool. I have two small children, I live in Florida. If I can't spend my summer days in my back yard watching my kids swim, why did I move to Florida? Also, that pool has to be caged - I hate bugs. Pete needs an office. He works from home and deserves to have a space in the house that he can reasonably expect to be left alone to think and work. The neighborhood needs to be family friendly. Not that it has to have a park within walking distance, or that the development needs to be brand new, but, you know, just... nice. Quiet, even would be good.
After that, it's all gravy. One story, or two? One car garage, or two... or three? Close to the water, or close to the highway? Gated community, or not? Do we care if the neighbor has a boat in his driveway? No. We don't.
I thought we weren't being very picky. I thought we'd be thrilled with the first place we found with our musts. And honestly, we were. But it was a little pricey, and even though I hate to admit this, it was too big for us. We fell in love with a townhouse in a posh development, too. But it was also a bit pricey, and the community pool was a little too far. Now our favorite is an older house, which the owner has renovated, remodeled, added-on, and basically turned it into a one-of-a-kind place with a lot of character. It looks like a jungle in the back yard, in a good way. I kind of expect to find pirate treasure buried back there. And it has a view of the bay from an upstairs wrap-around balcony. The master suite is upstairs, and is HUMONGOUS. Room enough for our king size bed, and a couch and our giant TV, and then the closet is a room big enough to use as a nursery - not that we plan on needing it for that, but you know, it's BIG.... but the master suite is the only thing upstairs. The kids bedroom is downstairs. And that makes us nervous, because we don't like to be that far away from them when we're sleeping.
So we're continuing to look. We're keeping in touch with the owner of the current favorite, thinking we may be able to reconcile ourselves to sleeping a whole floor away from the babies. But we have appointments to see at least four more houses. And now that the new month has started there will be more listings to search through.
But I wonder. Will we find a house that screams our name? One that is cheap enough to afford our lifestyle, and big enough to house our hobbies? Will we find a house that we can agree on that it's perfect? And what makes it perfect anyway? Will we have to compromise on one of our musts to get more of our wants? How much responsibility for our happiness can we reasonably put on a building, or a town? I can't stop wondering if we will ever find a house that we don't feel lukewarm on. I've always been of the opinion that happiness is yours to make and that you can be happy anywhere. But this last year has clouded that opinion. And I feel that if I don't pick the right place, I have a year of awfulness ahead of me. I don't want awfulness. I'm ready to shed all my discontent and bask in the joy my family brings me.
I hope I find the right place... before I sign a lease on somewhere else.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Monday, January 12, 2009
Life is too busy for blogging.
I know it has been a while since I've blogged. I'm sorry. I know that my last post was depressing. I'm sorry for that, too. But it was well written, I think. So that's good.
My life has been busy. I have been adjusting along with everybody else to the new living arrangement. I think that's going well. We seem to have settled into a living each of our lives they way we choose, while remaining courteous of everyone else. While the holiday season was filled with family, and presents, and hub-bub, all my normal routines closed up for several weeks. Forcing me to find new ways to entertain my children. Not too many new ways, mind you. Lucian got a Leapster 2 for Christmas, and he has been perfectly content to play on it for hours when I let him. Valentino got a circus tent that was also a bounce house, and a ball pit. (it's 4x4x4 so it fits in the playroom) So he was mostly content to crawl in and out of there and throw balls all over the house. Did you know that even though there's a waist-high wall around the playroom, the balls can be found in the living room, the bathroom, and the bedrooms? I hadn't thought about that much when I chose the gift.
I've continued my search for girlfriends. I've hung out at the parks like a vagabond looking for well-behaved children who are similarly aged to my two. And then, when I find them, I look for the mom. Is she on the cell phone the whole time? I don't want to be her friend. Is she hovering over them so they couldn't possibly have the freedom to act up? I don't want to be her friend. Is she wearing heels and a skirt to the park? I don't want to be her friend. Maybe I'm too picky. BUT! A week or two ago, I found a mom who looked like she had a head on her shoulders, and she was letting her 3 year old daughter play at the park even though it was raining! And she was available to her daughter for swinging or catching, but mostly she just watched from the sidelines. My kind of woman!
Since she and I were the only two at the park in the rain, I was less nervous about talking to her as I would have been if she was one of twenty. I would have assumed that she was life-long friends with one of the other moms and wouldn't have time for me. But I approached her, and we talked. Our kids played together, and all was well. At the end of our time at the park I gave her my number, with the explanation that I'm awful at calling people. Even when I want to. Last week, she called me, and today we went to a different park, together, and we had a blast. We snacked together, and we had similar snacks! Our kids fought over a shovel, and we both sat and watched while they worked it out between them! We admitted to each other that our kids sometimes swear, just testing which words are OK, and that it's our own fault! And when I told her that Lucian's learning how to read by sounding out the letters, she told me her daughter is doing flash cards, and it's coming along well! YAY!!!!
I hope this turns to a real friendship. She seems down to earth with similar concerns where her children are involved, and even though she works and I don't, she seemed to have a pretty open schedule. And she has two children, 7 and 3, and they were both very well-behaved, and considerate of both of my boys, and I think this could be fun!
I think this week is my county fair, and next week we think we might go to the beach. So if all of that goes well... when do I start doing things like inviting them over for lunch? Is that next? Well, I guess I'll have to see.
Anyway, I've been busy. I plan to continue to be busy. But, I will try to update slightly more often.
My life has been busy. I have been adjusting along with everybody else to the new living arrangement. I think that's going well. We seem to have settled into a living each of our lives they way we choose, while remaining courteous of everyone else. While the holiday season was filled with family, and presents, and hub-bub, all my normal routines closed up for several weeks. Forcing me to find new ways to entertain my children. Not too many new ways, mind you. Lucian got a Leapster 2 for Christmas, and he has been perfectly content to play on it for hours when I let him. Valentino got a circus tent that was also a bounce house, and a ball pit. (it's 4x4x4 so it fits in the playroom) So he was mostly content to crawl in and out of there and throw balls all over the house. Did you know that even though there's a waist-high wall around the playroom, the balls can be found in the living room, the bathroom, and the bedrooms? I hadn't thought about that much when I chose the gift.
I've continued my search for girlfriends. I've hung out at the parks like a vagabond looking for well-behaved children who are similarly aged to my two. And then, when I find them, I look for the mom. Is she on the cell phone the whole time? I don't want to be her friend. Is she hovering over them so they couldn't possibly have the freedom to act up? I don't want to be her friend. Is she wearing heels and a skirt to the park? I don't want to be her friend. Maybe I'm too picky. BUT! A week or two ago, I found a mom who looked like she had a head on her shoulders, and she was letting her 3 year old daughter play at the park even though it was raining! And she was available to her daughter for swinging or catching, but mostly she just watched from the sidelines. My kind of woman!
Since she and I were the only two at the park in the rain, I was less nervous about talking to her as I would have been if she was one of twenty. I would have assumed that she was life-long friends with one of the other moms and wouldn't have time for me. But I approached her, and we talked. Our kids played together, and all was well. At the end of our time at the park I gave her my number, with the explanation that I'm awful at calling people. Even when I want to. Last week, she called me, and today we went to a different park, together, and we had a blast. We snacked together, and we had similar snacks! Our kids fought over a shovel, and we both sat and watched while they worked it out between them! We admitted to each other that our kids sometimes swear, just testing which words are OK, and that it's our own fault! And when I told her that Lucian's learning how to read by sounding out the letters, she told me her daughter is doing flash cards, and it's coming along well! YAY!!!!
I hope this turns to a real friendship. She seems down to earth with similar concerns where her children are involved, and even though she works and I don't, she seemed to have a pretty open schedule. And she has two children, 7 and 3, and they were both very well-behaved, and considerate of both of my boys, and I think this could be fun!
I think this week is my county fair, and next week we think we might go to the beach. So if all of that goes well... when do I start doing things like inviting them over for lunch? Is that next? Well, I guess I'll have to see.
Anyway, I've been busy. I plan to continue to be busy. But, I will try to update slightly more often.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Support
Have you ever been somebody's support? Been there to rub their back when they get too stressed, make them coffee in the middle of trying to do a million other things because they're tired and don't want/have time to, stay up until 3am to let them vent even though you have a busy day ahead of you? Have you ever been the one to listen as they talk through their problems, offering advice, or cheering them up - whichever you think is most necessary at the time?
If you have, for how many people do you offer this service? Do they return the favor? Do you have somebody that you can go to for this service if the person/people that you support doesn't/don't reciprocate?
If you haven't, are there people in your life that you can turn to when you need them? Why don't you support others? Do support somebody financially, or otherwise that you feel lets you off the hook for emotional support?
That leads me to my next question: is financial support equal to emotional support? If you live in a situation similar to mine - one working parent with one stay-at-home parent - is it the job of the SAH Parent to make sure that the working parent is stress free so s/he may keep his/her job? Looking critically it seems that the working parent has the more important job. Because we all know raising kids is a tough job, but it's also not the type of job you can get fired from for having one bad day (unless that bad day is taken to extreme), and if you have both parents, somebody will pick up the slack. But the SAHP cannot (usually) go into the office for the working parent, and without their ability to keep their job, the family is in worse shape than if the kids are a little spoiled, or didn't get a bath, or are having nightmares.
I don't know if I phrased this post well at all. My in-laws just left from packing up the moving truck, and I'm a little frenzied. I have to get showered and dressed, and then pick the kids up from the baby-sitter so we can all go to our first night of parenting class. I wish I had more time. I would go into more detail.
I may not be back online for quite sometime. I don't know how long it will take to get me a computer I can use in the new living arrangement.
P.S. I voted early today! Woo! That's a load off my mind. Now I don't have to worry about what my schedule looks like for Election Day.
If you have, for how many people do you offer this service? Do they return the favor? Do you have somebody that you can go to for this service if the person/people that you support doesn't/don't reciprocate?
If you haven't, are there people in your life that you can turn to when you need them? Why don't you support others? Do support somebody financially, or otherwise that you feel lets you off the hook for emotional support?
That leads me to my next question: is financial support equal to emotional support? If you live in a situation similar to mine - one working parent with one stay-at-home parent - is it the job of the SAH Parent to make sure that the working parent is stress free so s/he may keep his/her job? Looking critically it seems that the working parent has the more important job. Because we all know raising kids is a tough job, but it's also not the type of job you can get fired from for having one bad day (unless that bad day is taken to extreme), and if you have both parents, somebody will pick up the slack. But the SAHP cannot (usually) go into the office for the working parent, and without their ability to keep their job, the family is in worse shape than if the kids are a little spoiled, or didn't get a bath, or are having nightmares.
I don't know if I phrased this post well at all. My in-laws just left from packing up the moving truck, and I'm a little frenzied. I have to get showered and dressed, and then pick the kids up from the baby-sitter so we can all go to our first night of parenting class. I wish I had more time. I would go into more detail.
I may not be back online for quite sometime. I don't know how long it will take to get me a computer I can use in the new living arrangement.
P.S. I voted early today! Woo! That's a load off my mind. Now I don't have to worry about what my schedule looks like for Election Day.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Who knew I wasn't kidding when i put "Boring" in my title
How often am I supposed to blog again? Daily? Weekly? How long can I go between posts and still keep readers?
I know one woman whose posts infrequently but whose posts are soooo long that it takes days to read one. She keeps readers. Maybe not a lot of readers, but faithful readers. Readers so faithful that when she visits America (she's from Australia), she almost never has to book hotels, because her readers let her into their homes.
I don't write that well, though.
So, I should probably post more often. Unfortunately, I don't have much to talk about. I mean, yes, we're moving in with my in-laws. There's a million stories there - but they're not MY stories to tell, and I have been asked to not publish it "all over the Internet." My kids really are the heart of my life, and they're doing really really well.
We've been doing this routine thing for a while now, and even though I've been told, and told again by other parents, doctors, teachers, experts, editors, etc. that routine was the key to a happy child, I was still completely flabbergasted as I watched the transformation in my children. Lucian shares better, transitions better from one thing to another, he even stays in the playroom at home longer and quieter. Val has had fewer temper tantrums, has started a concerted effort towards talking. Today I was playing with one of those toys where you manipulate a switch of some sort, and then something pops up out of it's hole. His had farm animals. First I was trying to teach him cause and effect: Turn this knob, and a COW pops out. Push this button, and a CHICKEN pops out. Then I got bored after doing this for 15 turns, so I started to add animal noises. When the chicken popped out I started doing "bok bok bok" and he repeated me. Of course, "babababababa" IS his favorite word, so I wasn't that impressed. When the cow popped out I said, "Moo," and he replied, "Booo." I was shocked. I mean he's 14 months, and I know Lucian was an early talker, or at least he's very articulate for his age, now, but I really don't remember Lucian learning how to talk. As far as my memory goes, he was born, he learned how to crawl, and then he was singing his alphabet, and potty training. I don't know. There was so much going on, and I wrote it down so I wouldn't have to remember. But with Val, I just assumed it would take him a long time to start talking. He uses a binky, and he isn't in daycare, and quite frankly, I don't have the attention span to sit with him and name shapes and colors, and other baby games.
Sorry, back to the story at hand. So he said, "Boo." Well, it's not Moo, so I repeated the sound for him. He looked at me scrunched up his little face, and said "Moo!" I cheered. The Horse popped up next, and I said, "Neigh!" He replied, "neyneyney!" I think someone else must have been working with him on these words. Tonight at dinner I'm going to try different words. I don't know what, though. "THEY" say you should start with nouns because they are concrete. They have more meaning for him. But the sign language he knows isn't concrete. He says 'more,' 'down,' and 'drink.' When the camera is pointed at him, he says, "cheese," out loud. I don't think he's thinking of baby Swiss when he does it, so much as he's learned that when the camera points at Lucian, his big brother says cheese and gets lots of attention. It's simple baby logic.
I don't want Val to talk. I mean, yes of course I want him to talk. But once he starts talking, then I can't talk for him anymore. No longer will his reply to my question, "How are you this morning?" be, "Oh, Mom. Good morning. I'm ok, I just woke up, though, so I'm still a little groggy. Would you mind letting me hold my blankie while you change my diaper? You don't mind? Oh, great. I love my blankie. I should apologize now, I made a big stinky mess in my diaper, and i know you don't want to open it, but I appreciate that you do, and that you clean off all the poopies. I think my jeans are clean, can I wear them today?" Now it will just be, "Sing the sunshine song, Mommy."
good times are moving forward. I know it can't last forever. I know that all good things come to and end, and I know that this good thing ends with a transition to a new good thing. But I'm still sad at this passing. Maybe I should get pregnant agian... Ha! *this is funny because we're moving into a 3 bedroom house with 4 adults, 2 children, and 3 dogs. There's no more room for more babies.*
I know one woman whose posts infrequently but whose posts are soooo long that it takes days to read one. She keeps readers. Maybe not a lot of readers, but faithful readers. Readers so faithful that when she visits America (she's from Australia), she almost never has to book hotels, because her readers let her into their homes.
I don't write that well, though.
So, I should probably post more often. Unfortunately, I don't have much to talk about. I mean, yes, we're moving in with my in-laws. There's a million stories there - but they're not MY stories to tell, and I have been asked to not publish it "all over the Internet." My kids really are the heart of my life, and they're doing really really well.
We've been doing this routine thing for a while now, and even though I've been told, and told again by other parents, doctors, teachers, experts, editors, etc. that routine was the key to a happy child, I was still completely flabbergasted as I watched the transformation in my children. Lucian shares better, transitions better from one thing to another, he even stays in the playroom at home longer and quieter. Val has had fewer temper tantrums, has started a concerted effort towards talking. Today I was playing with one of those toys where you manipulate a switch of some sort, and then something pops up out of it's hole. His had farm animals. First I was trying to teach him cause and effect: Turn this knob, and a COW pops out. Push this button, and a CHICKEN pops out. Then I got bored after doing this for 15 turns, so I started to add animal noises. When the chicken popped out I started doing "bok bok bok" and he repeated me. Of course, "babababababa" IS his favorite word, so I wasn't that impressed. When the cow popped out I said, "Moo," and he replied, "Booo." I was shocked. I mean he's 14 months, and I know Lucian was an early talker, or at least he's very articulate for his age, now, but I really don't remember Lucian learning how to talk. As far as my memory goes, he was born, he learned how to crawl, and then he was singing his alphabet, and potty training. I don't know. There was so much going on, and I wrote it down so I wouldn't have to remember. But with Val, I just assumed it would take him a long time to start talking. He uses a binky, and he isn't in daycare, and quite frankly, I don't have the attention span to sit with him and name shapes and colors, and other baby games.
Sorry, back to the story at hand. So he said, "Boo." Well, it's not Moo, so I repeated the sound for him. He looked at me scrunched up his little face, and said "Moo!" I cheered. The Horse popped up next, and I said, "Neigh!" He replied, "neyneyney!" I think someone else must have been working with him on these words. Tonight at dinner I'm going to try different words. I don't know what, though. "THEY" say you should start with nouns because they are concrete. They have more meaning for him. But the sign language he knows isn't concrete. He says 'more,' 'down,' and 'drink.' When the camera is pointed at him, he says, "cheese," out loud. I don't think he's thinking of baby Swiss when he does it, so much as he's learned that when the camera points at Lucian, his big brother says cheese and gets lots of attention. It's simple baby logic.
I don't want Val to talk. I mean, yes of course I want him to talk. But once he starts talking, then I can't talk for him anymore. No longer will his reply to my question, "How are you this morning?" be, "Oh, Mom. Good morning. I'm ok, I just woke up, though, so I'm still a little groggy. Would you mind letting me hold my blankie while you change my diaper? You don't mind? Oh, great. I love my blankie. I should apologize now, I made a big stinky mess in my diaper, and i know you don't want to open it, but I appreciate that you do, and that you clean off all the poopies. I think my jeans are clean, can I wear them today?" Now it will just be, "Sing the sunshine song, Mommy."
good times are moving forward. I know it can't last forever. I know that all good things come to and end, and I know that this good thing ends with a transition to a new good thing. But I'm still sad at this passing. Maybe I should get pregnant agian... Ha! *this is funny because we're moving into a 3 bedroom house with 4 adults, 2 children, and 3 dogs. There's no more room for more babies.*
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Feeling Better
Well, it's been another few days of my new routine with the kids and the chores. I'm feeling better. Lucian is behaving better, and Val is napping better.
I knew that this, too, would pass. The kids are still a bit clingy, but we're adjusting.
Of course, just as we get under way with our new version of happiness, life takes an unexpected turn. The economic crisis, or poor decisions by individuals (not myself), or petty bullshit between friends has caused a need in my family. We have a need to become a multi-generational family. Pete and I will be moving our family into his parents' house. It's not in the town I chose to live in, so I hope we won't be there too long. I hope to be able to move my kids back into the land of good school systems and choice by the time the kids are in like 2nd grade. But honestly, I don't know if we can move that quickly. Pete and I have some ideas, but we're not positive we can make them work.
It's going to be a struggle for everybody. The kids have gotten used to Mom-mom and Pop-pop's house being a rules-free zone, and now they'll have to cope with it being at least as structured as I have been working to make this house. Pete and I have gotten used to being able to prance around naked after the kids go to bed, and when they're visiting at Mom-mom and Pop-pop's. Now, there will be no nakedness outside of the bedroom, and there will be no more kid-free weekends since there will be nowhere to send them. Mom-mom and Pop-pop have gotten used to living a quiet life while they get by in semi-retirement, now they will have a house full with 4 adults, 2 children, and 3 dogs. HOLY MOLY!
Some days (since this decision was reached) I sit and weep over what I'll be losing. Other days I sit in awe at the things I'll be gaining. Mostly, I'm just terrified of change. Which is unusual. I was once accused of being a gypsy. Not that the person thought I was foreign, or that I went around wearing broomstick skirts and lots of jingling jewelry and beating on a tambourine for money, just that I moved around a lot. I ever wanted to be stationary. I wanted to live a life of many apartments in lots of different places, I even had a dream of living in my car and driving across the country getting part time jobs in any town I chose to stay in for a few months. (Have you ever seen the movie "Chocolat" - that life was pretty perfect for my dream.) But now, it seems that I have finally gotten everything I wanted - a home, a family, a future... now I'm terrified of change. I'm afraid that change really means destruction of everything wonderful about my life.
Maybe it will all be great. It could be. I believe that. I just don't want to be miserable. I don't want my family to be miserable. And honestly, I have a great relationship with Pete's parents right now, and I don't want to lose that, either.
Right now, my life is back in limbo while we get ready to pack, and try not to tell the kids too much about where we're moving so they don't get impatient, and I have to go shopping for a few things that we can't live without even in the new house.
Maybe I'll have something for you to read about when I get back from shopping.
I knew that this, too, would pass. The kids are still a bit clingy, but we're adjusting.
Of course, just as we get under way with our new version of happiness, life takes an unexpected turn. The economic crisis, or poor decisions by individuals (not myself), or petty bullshit between friends has caused a need in my family. We have a need to become a multi-generational family. Pete and I will be moving our family into his parents' house. It's not in the town I chose to live in, so I hope we won't be there too long. I hope to be able to move my kids back into the land of good school systems and choice by the time the kids are in like 2nd grade. But honestly, I don't know if we can move that quickly. Pete and I have some ideas, but we're not positive we can make them work.
It's going to be a struggle for everybody. The kids have gotten used to Mom-mom and Pop-pop's house being a rules-free zone, and now they'll have to cope with it being at least as structured as I have been working to make this house. Pete and I have gotten used to being able to prance around naked after the kids go to bed, and when they're visiting at Mom-mom and Pop-pop's. Now, there will be no nakedness outside of the bedroom, and there will be no more kid-free weekends since there will be nowhere to send them. Mom-mom and Pop-pop have gotten used to living a quiet life while they get by in semi-retirement, now they will have a house full with 4 adults, 2 children, and 3 dogs. HOLY MOLY!
Some days (since this decision was reached) I sit and weep over what I'll be losing. Other days I sit in awe at the things I'll be gaining. Mostly, I'm just terrified of change. Which is unusual. I was once accused of being a gypsy. Not that the person thought I was foreign, or that I went around wearing broomstick skirts and lots of jingling jewelry and beating on a tambourine for money, just that I moved around a lot. I ever wanted to be stationary. I wanted to live a life of many apartments in lots of different places, I even had a dream of living in my car and driving across the country getting part time jobs in any town I chose to stay in for a few months. (Have you ever seen the movie "Chocolat" - that life was pretty perfect for my dream.) But now, it seems that I have finally gotten everything I wanted - a home, a family, a future... now I'm terrified of change. I'm afraid that change really means destruction of everything wonderful about my life.
Maybe it will all be great. It could be. I believe that. I just don't want to be miserable. I don't want my family to be miserable. And honestly, I have a great relationship with Pete's parents right now, and I don't want to lose that, either.
Right now, my life is back in limbo while we get ready to pack, and try not to tell the kids too much about where we're moving so they don't get impatient, and I have to go shopping for a few things that we can't live without even in the new house.
Maybe I'll have something for you to read about when I get back from shopping.
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