Monday, May 28, 2007
So how odd is it now that my entire life (the "stuff" part, not the people part) is packed up, neatly labeled, wrapped in packing paper and on a moving van being stored somewhere in North Carolina? Very odd. And who would have thought that we would have been able to put our entire life's contents in three hundred ninety-nine boxes? Geez, my life feels much bigger than that! 399? That's weak. I was thinking a minimum of 657 boxes. Maybe 7oo-something boxes. But 399? That seems totally lame. Anyway, it occurs to me this morning that I'm kinda worried about my stuff. I like my stuff. I hope my stuff is doing okay up there on the Carolina coast. Do you think my stuff is missing me? (Kidding.) We are at the beach while we are in transition, waiting to close on our new house this coming Thursday. The beach is exquisite this time of year: emerald green water, sugar white sand, cool mornings, warm (but not too hot) days. We are relaxing and resting and reading and exercising and chillin'. It has been a glorious break. And it has us thinking...we should totally keep this place. Why not? We love it over here. This is a fantastic place for our family to spend time. Vic decompresses here. Jack plays and digs and builds sand castles and gets to see live alligators at Fudpuckers. And even I feel less pressure to be a human "doing" and become more of a human "being" while we are spending time here. It's a glorious place. And five hours is not a long drive. We're talking about keeping it. We're thinking about it while we're drinking about it (oooh, those left over Mike's Hard Lemonades are disappearing quickly). We'll see...
Saturday, May 19, 2007
We have a routine on most Saturday mornings. Vic gets up with Jack and I sleep in a bit. Usually I need the extra sleep because I have had to evacuate the bedroom in the middle of the night due to my hub's snoring. And his twitching. Then I have to settle in in another bedroom in our house and it takes me a while to fall back to sleep. When I finally get up Jack is usually in his playroom working on his latest Lego creation and Vic is usually in front of the TV doing "finger homework" (I'll have to blog about that later). With Jack occupied, and after I make the beds, start the laundry, etc. Vic and I usually chill in front of the television for a while. It's a quiet time of the week when we don't have to rush around as a family getting ready to go somewhere. I really love our Saturday mornings with nothing to do and no where to go. It's the only time during the week that is totally unplanned and unscheduled. I was thinking this morning that today was our last "chill" Saturday morning in our home. Kinda freaked me out. Movers come on Wednesday to start packing us up and then we officially vacate on Friday. Big hectic week coming up. Oh, and did I mention that this is also the last week of Kindergarten for my boy? Yeah, I'm freaking out on many different levels. Hard to believe my baby is almost officially done with his first year of school. Again with the sniff, sniff. Anyway, I'm just enjoying this quiet time on Saturday before all heck breaks loose in a few days. Just chillin'. Feels good.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
My hub and I are in the process of relocating to another city. As Martha would say, it's a "good thing" for our family and we are all very excited about our upcoming move. But with that change comes good-byes. Today was a day of good-byes which got me to thinking about how difficult it is going to be for me to leave my home of the past 13 years. This realization kind of took me by suprise. You see, there was a time in my life when I couldn't wait for this day to arrive. I'm a city girl at heart and there were just not enough skyscrapers or options for me in this town. As our demographics changed, as we became parents, as I began the transition from career woman to at-home mom I began to settle into this place. You know what I mean-I became friends with the shoe cobbler, I am on a first name basis with the grocery store cashier, I know all of the shortcuts around town, the best place to go for sushi, etc, etc. You get the picture. And in the process, I made the most amazing friends. Somehow, over time, this place became my home. So now, just one week from the day that movers will come and start packing my life into boxes, I'm waxing a little poetic. Sure, I'll find a new favorite shoe cobbler. I'll learn to navigate my way around our new city. And it might only take me a couple of weeks before I memorize the name of the grocery store cashier at my new Publix (yeah, I'm a Publix girl, no Winn-Dixie for me). But what's hanging heavy on my heart tonight is the separation from my friends. Sure, I'll make new friends. I know that. But you know what? There's nothing like an old friend. Old friends that know all your history. And you know theirs. Old friends that keep your secrets. Old friends that know all of the bad stuff about, say, your husband, and can still be nice to him. Old friends that are always on your side. Old friends that you can call at any time to talk you down from the ledge. I had to say good-bye to two of my closest friends today (sniff, sniff). But, hey...three hours is not too far to drive. And these girls WILL travel. Some of these girls will be over to see me before we can actually, really start missing one another. But still...it's not the same as being right there. And I'm just used to all of us just being right HERE. For a quick run to Starbucks, for a last minute lunch at Hopkins, for a "please come over and help me with this project I'm working on", for a "can I come over and see your new outfit?". So, while I'm very optimistic and excited about the novelty and discovery surrounding this move I'm feeling the first bit of blue about leaving the people of this place. My peeps. You know, "my girls". After all, skyscrapers are nice to look at and it's going to be so much fun to have lots and lots of dining, shopping and entertainment options but it's the people in a place that really count. It's the relationships that you have that help to give your life substance. It's the friendships that you make that help to make "a place" your home. So, tonight, I'm feeling a little homesick. You know...feeling a little blue. Really, truly going to miss the people of this place. This place I call home.