its time

If I said I wasn't freaking out about the upcoming move we're making, I'd be lying.  I have thrown around "what if's" left and right since the sellers accepted our offer on their house.  I'm scared.  I'm nervous.  I'm excited.  I'm hopeful.  But mostly... I'm freaking out.  

We've never lived outside of Jackson.  We don't HAVE to move to this are.  We don't HAVE to leave Jackson.  However, we also don't HAVE to stay here either.  Our jobs give us the freedom to choose where we want to move to, and that's overwhelming.  Exciting, but overwhelming.  I almost think it would make it easier if we had a pinpointed spot we NEEDED to stay near.   Neither of us loooove Jackson enough to want to stay here forever, but it also makes me nervous that we won't love the area we're moving to either.  (you know, that whole "Grass is greener on the other side" saying...)

I'm just so afraid of regretting this move.  I'm afraid we aren't going to find a church we love as much as Westwinds.   I'm freaking out that we won't like our new neighbors (and we only have 2 options... since there are only 3 houses on the private drive and all 3 of us have acreage so there isn't likely to be anyone else building here).  I'm worried we won't make friends in the area that "mesh" with us.  Or that we'll hate living a little bit out in the country/rural areas.  

I'm also sad... sad that we'll be further away from our friends in Jackson.  I'm sad that we're leaving a house that we've spent the past 7 years putting our sweat and heart into.  I'm sad that we're leaving neighbors that we absolutely adore. I'm sad that the boys are going to leave the neighbor kids they've grown up with.  I'm scared for the boys and their transition to a new school.  What if they don't make friends? What if they don't fit in? 

I know for the most part I'm overreacting.  I know for many people moving to a new town, or even a new state, is nothing.  But, moving outside of our comfort zone isn't something we are used to, so this is huge.  And scary. And it feels really unnecessary, but it also feels so right.  It feels like a chance is in front of us- nothing is holding us here.  It feels like we need to be brave. Adventurous.  Live a little. Explore and get outside of this little town we've grown up in.  Show our kids that we can do brave things, that we can stick together in scary, new situations.  

All those things have been running through my head.  The fear.  The worry.  The thought of regret.  The excitement.  The possibilities.  

On Monday we had the inspections done at Apple Creek.   Monday could not have come at a better time.  I literally had just spewed all those fears to some of my closest friends and then God gave me a nod of approval that I'd been waiting for. 

When we got to Apple Creek, the inspector (Ken) came out and said "So, this is my house..."  to which we were both kind of confused.   Turns out wife who owns the house was Ken's daughters preschool teacher.  They liked Ken's house and floorplan, so Ken gave them the blueprints and they had the house built!  So, he was super familiar with everything in the house and filled us in on all the pros/cons.   The house passed with flying colors.  It is a nice, solid house.  The only issues are that the gutters need to be cleaned out and there is a leaky tub handle in the master bathroom.  Easy peasy.  (Way better than the inspections on H House almost exactly 7 years ago! )

As we were leaving we saw the neighbors walking up the road.  A girl around the boys' age was riding a bike and a littler boy was on a motorized john deere tractor.  Their mom was walking with them.  She stopped and said hi and we started chatting.   She was really sweet.  It turns out they have 4 kids as well- 10 year old twins (boy and girl), a 9 year old girl and a 5 year old boy. AND the other house on the road has a 9 and 6 year old.  So incredibly perfect.   She seemed really nice, and we chatted about schools and the neighborhood and kids for a few minutes.  

When we drove away I just felt so at peace.  I feel like I was given a nod of approval that this is the right decision and that everything is going to be okay.   It will be a-okay.  

The post that resonates in my mind....

A few years ago, I'd read a post that Tara Whitney wrote on her blog.   At the time, I had a 4 and 2 year old and was very much the mom with goldfish crackers and sippy cups and a tantruming toddler.  Still, the post struck a heartstring.  I envisioned the sadness she felt, the shifting identity, the changing phase. It felt light years away, but still I knew when the time came, when I was in the same shoes as her, I would have feelings of sadness and anxiety.  Sorrow for the years that passed to quickly.   I still have little ones, but the mark of Amelia's first birthday only solidifies that time will not stand still for my anxiety and fears.  Her baby stages are flying by without pause, and there is nothing I can do to slow it down, other than to stop and savor as much as I can.   I went back and read Tara's post, and thought I should share here as well.   Bittersweet.... watching my sweet babies grow up into little people... life getting so much easier in so many ways, but harder in others... yet longing for the days when their chubby hands hold your finger tightly, their sticky faces kiss yours with a sloppy kiss, and they curl up and fit in your lap.  

Tara's Post:

"The other night as I was making dinner, it hit me hard that I am now in the phase of mothering that I always dreamed about when I was at home with three children under the age of three. The phase where there is some independence. The phase that is way way way past diapers and potty training and temper tantrums in the grocery store. The phase where my middle school aged son helps my elementary aged daughter with her math homework while I make dinner. It is a brave new world here in this phase. I spent ten plus years with toddlers and babies. The entire decade of my 20′s, and some of my 30′s. I still get shocked with how fast time is passing. I still get shocked at how big they are. How adult they are becoming. Yet I feel like I am in my motherhood prime. I ache to go back in time and hold them as newborns again. To smell their toddler necks and experience their toddler voices. But I was exhausted or drained or depressed for most of that time, if I am going to be perfectly honest. I think I had them too fast, I was stretched too thin. I wouldn’t go back and change a thing, but that is the truth of the matter. I loved them just as fiercely then as I do now…but it was a harder time for me personally as a mother. 

At the same time, it is such a huge huge part of my identity – being the mother of four young children. And now that I am no longer that, my identity is shifting and I haven’t quite caught up. I still feel a part of that “group”. The one at the park after naptime. The one with goldfish crackers and sippy cups falling out of the stroller. The one walking a toddler down the hall to avoid a tantrum at the post office. And it is SO BIZARRE that I am just not there anymore. I miss it, even knowing how hard it was for me. 

I did my best, and I think my best was enough. I hope it was. If who they are today is any indication, it was enough. Thankfully, gratefully. I can now REALLYsee how tender and special that millisecond of time was, and it makes me want to hold onto this time all the more, because I know our next phase is speeding down the runway, arriving at the gate soon as a house full of teenagers. And then, lickity split, take off into a life of their own. 

So here I am, looking back on a lot of memories with a lot of fondness. Recalling who they were then and feeling very full in all that we have experienced together. 

Here I am, learning about who they are now and leading them down the best path that I can. Loving who they are becoming. 

Here I am, looking forward into the future, with great hopes regarding our safety and health, and a lot of excitement over what is to come. 

xo,
Tara"

Organizing Spices

Last fall, Jane wrote this post about dealing with anxiety.   Dubbed "organizing your spices" I could totally relate.    I knew, through therapy sessions, that one of my ways of trying to control anxiety/things I couldn't control was to clean, or organize, or rearrange, or create.

The past couple days I started making a mental list of these random projects I wanted to do around the house.  Paint the old hutch in the dining room.  Refinish an old high chair.  Paint more chalkboard paint in the kitchen.   And the big one.... swap rooms.   Move my office/craft room up to the playroom off of the living room and move the playroom down to the basement.

Ryan agreed it would be a good idea- the boys rarely play in the smallish playroom, and when they did they trashed it.  They had too many "big" things in there that took up space.  There wasn't a lot of floorspace to play.   And the big one- I felt like we had toys dispersed among every room of the house.   Train table upstairs, a toy box of toys and dress up in the basement, and a playroom full of toys on the 1st floor.   By moving everything downstairs, it would create a "home base" for a majority of the toys.

Last night, around 10pm, I decided to make the switch.  Now mind you- this wasn't a simple "move a few things" switch.   I moved cabinets and unscrewed countertops and dragged all 90" of countertop up the stairs at midnight.   I hauled bins and bins of toys, a toy kitchen, table and chairs all to the basement.   I finally wen to bed at 1am and woke up and spent all of today organizing and trying to put things in place.

Did I mention today was Amelia's 1st birthday?  And I was in a bit of denial that my baby was turning 1.

All day while I moved boxes and files and totes and crates and cabinets and toys up and down the stairs I contemplated this change.   While it seems simple enough- innocent enough- deep down I knew what this was.

It was one step further in the direction of my children growing up.  Their independence.

The playroom right off the living room was great when we first moved here- the boys were toddlers/babies and it was well used.   But now.... they're 7 and (almost) 5 and are slowly moving to the phase of not "needing" a toy room.  I mean, they do- but... they spend time with friends in the basement.  They're bigger.  Louder.  More active.  They need more space, in more ways than one.

Knowing Amelia is 99.9% likely my last baby it gives me so much anxiety.   I'm not ready to let go of this phase.... this part of me.  The part of me that identifies as a "mom of little ones".  I'm not ready to let go of bottles and sippy cups and diaper and become a mom with fully independent children.  I'm not sure how to identify with myself as a mom without little ones hanging on me, needing me.

This is bringing a lump to my throat.

I felt fine after having Hudson getting rid of baby stuff... I knew we'd likely have another.   I knew I'd have one more hospital stay with a fresh newborn.  I knew that once again I'd have sleepless nights and a sink full of bottles and graham cracker crumbs in my purse and another sticky face to wipe off.

Amelia turning 1 is so bittersweet to me.  I love the little person she is becoming.  Her personality is so enormous and she is sure to be an amazing little girl.   I can't wait to watch her blossom.  But, this milestone also means I'm nearing my last baby bottle.  The last pacifier.  The last diaper.  The last sippy cup.  The last boo boo to kiss.  The last hand to hold across the street.

So, today I organized my spices.   I can't control my babies growing up.  It is going to happen.  Somehow I'll manage to deal with it- accept it, and love it.   But today, today I'll push aside that anxiety and organize my spices.

***************
"Your first child opens your eyes to the wonder of each new age. Your last reminds you of its transience."

"Be who you are..."

Last week I painted my nails for Valentine's Day.  Hudson saw me and asked that I paint his nails- toes AND fingers.  This is nothing new to me.  He likes it.  He loves the color red.  He loves having painted nails.  

I. Do. Not. Care.  

My husband and Father-in-Law like to give me a hard time about painting them but I only do it because Hudson asks.  And I want to nurture whatever little being he is, and make sure he knows that the things he likes is OKAY, as long as HE likes it for himself and not doing what other people do/like.  I love his independent spirit.  I love that he likes to dress crazy, and wears a tutu every once in a while out of the blue, and likes his nails painted. I love that he thinks his cheap-o Target tennis shoes are super-de fast and that he loves ladybugs.  I love that he is drawn to sparkly things, mud puddles and dirt.   I love every unique little piece of him, whether it is similar to other boys or not.  He is who he is and I love his little heart and soul.

Last week, after I painted his nails, Hudson was watching a movie and out of the blue he said "The boys at school were making fun of me and laughing at my nails.  They called me a girl."   This broke my heart.  I almost cried.  I went over and hugged him and we talked about it.  I told him that he is not a girl because he has painted nails.  I told him that it is not nice that they said those things and he needs to tell them they are being mean and to talk to a teacher.  I hugged him and told him I loved him and that he can like whatever he likes, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.  

"It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks."  Words so easy to say- but so hard to live.   Society wants conformity.  Boys should like boy things.  Girls should like girl things.  And it's okay if a girl likes to play with cars, or baseball, or play in the mud.  No one bats an eye.  But when a boy likes girly things?  It's wrong.  I hate this about our society. I hate that it is frowned upon, or thought of as "gay," as if that were so horribly wrong.   And so what if the person IS gay?  If any of my children were to realize later on that they are gay I would not love them any less.  I would embrace them as the person they are.  There is nothing wrong with it.  I would love them for being true to themselves, and not following the crowds.   

This morning he said he didn't want to go to school because the kids laughed at his nails.   I told him I could take his nail polish off and so we did.   It broke my heart a little bit, because he told me he likes to have his nails painted, but not at school.   I hate that he feels like he has to hide something the he likes.  It would be like me hiding that I like pizza or watching reality tv for fear that people because people made fun of me.  

It makes my heart heavy to think of how I'm going to nurture the little individuals I'm raising and encourage them to be who they are- to love the things they love because it makes THEM happy.  To enjoy doing things that THEY want to do, not what the crowds are doing.  The task seems daunting, and I can only pray I do them justice.  

So much to be thankful for

It seems that everywhere I turn I am hearing sad news about families and children.  Cancer. Brain Tumors. Car accidents.  Shootings.  Drownings.  It is all so sad and overwhelming and humbling.  Eye opening.  There is so much to be thankful for.  So much life to enjoy- while you can.  Life can take terrifying turns in the blink of an eye and leave your world spinning.  I've said so many prayers in the past few weeks for so many people who are hurting, many I don't even know.  I just can't imagine.  I'm sure at some point they've said the same... "I just can't imagine."

It really makes me realize how short this life is and how precious it can be.  That every single day is a miracle and a gift, that we should enjoy it and savor it- every last minute of it.  We aren't promised tomorrow.  There is no guarantee.

Today, I'm thankful for this amazing life I'm living.  That I've had one more day to live it with the people I love dearly.

Nerves

Right now my stomach is in knots.  Tomorrow evening I have an interview.  THE interview I've been waiting 5 years for!  A position (as a 2nd grade teacher) in my building has opened up and I have an interview.  Along with 6 other people, 2 being fellow lit coaches in my building (who are both amazing at what they do as well).

To say I'm nervous is an understatement. I'm more than nervous.  I'm excited.  Hopeful.  Fearful.  Hesitant. I want this job SO SO badly.  Not to mention I NEED it.  How many years can I go on saying "one more year of lit coaching."  I just can't.  But there aren't many other options... lit coaching is a pretty secure job and it pays well (aside from no benefits and no pay for sick days, holidays etc.) But its better than the alternative (subbing, which pays less and is not guaranteed daily work).  Education in Michigan is in a terrible place right now and so many districts are facing budget cuts and layoffs.

I've been reviewing sample interview questions all night and my stomach is just a bundle of nerves.  I'm pretty confident in my abilities, confident in many of my answers and my skills but its so nerve wracking to go in front of a panel of educators (I think my last interview had 10 people.... administrators and teachers etc), not to mention this interview will have my own co-workers on the panel.  This should make me more at ease but it does not.

So tomorrow, please say a prayer for me, or think of me or what not.  I am so excited at the prospect of FINALLY having my own classroom, but also terrified of the possibility that there is a chance I won't get this position.

I'll keep you updated.