How do you like THAT title? You like it… You like it….
Warning grammar nerds, I have not adequately proof read. I’m sorry. Can we deal?
I laid in bed last night for a while after Kel fell asleep, feeling deeply sad. The sort of sadness that comes from knowing you have to let go of something, even though you don’t want to. Even though all you want to do is channel your inner four year old and dig in, screaming until maybe… just maybe you get your way.
We are moving again. It’s not officially official but it may as well be. Yes, there is a five percent chance (or less) that we could get to stay but since my thirties is forcing me to be an adult about things (boo forced maturity that comes from three kids and home ownership)
I want to grow claws somehow and dig them into the drywall, hissing at anyone who tries to remove me from our home. I want to go buy 7 spirit hoodies from Noelle’s school and wear them on repeat to represent how very much we are NOT leaving. I want to make mimosas and day drink and whiny text all my friends about how hard this is, because yes I know there are people dying and starving but we have to move. again. dammit. dammit. dammit.
Pass me another mimosa. Or scotch, someone bring me scotch maybe?
OOOH Or Put Big Metal Chicken on my porch Blogess Style?
This is not, by the way, how a “good” pastors wife handles moving. I am pretty sure they sigh and say something about the will of God and how blessed they are to serve no matter where.
Maybe I’ll get there. Maybe the mimosas will help.
PS I’m not really day drinking. If I were I’d be Netflix binging on Scrubs, Parks and Rec or Gilmore Girls. Or all of the above…. WWLGD? What would Lorelai Girlmore do?
Probably drink more coffee and kidnap Rory for a trip to boston to eat Chowder in her Jeep.
This is not helping, or is it….?
So I’m not day drinking or Netflix binging, I’m doing the much more helpful, cathartic thing and whiny blogging about it to you guys.
What am I doing?
1) Being appropriately sad and whiny.
2) Drinking a latte even though it’s lent and I’m not supposed to. Jesus understands probably.
3) Researching montessori schools and praying one will offer us a full ride for first grade.
4) Wrapping my mind around homeschooling if needed.
5) Making a list of all the things we need to do to the house to sell it.
6) Hoping one of you want to buy it as is.
7) Listening to sad music.
8) Staring out the window.
9) Being a little mad at God but realizing that I’m sure he’s got this… somehow.
10) Being happy for Kel because his new job is way better than it should be.
11) Contemplating a private pin board for what I want to do to the parsonage.
12) Wondering how the kids will handle it
13) Hoping I get a new, consolation bathtub out of the deal
14) Realizing that I will be painting forever, again.
15) Being glad that at least I’m not pregnant this time.
16) Hoping my friends won’t forget about me and make time to do the 1.5 hour drive and come visit.
17) Reminding myself that we have each other, and that’s all I really need.
18) Being jealous at all the people who get to stay in Grand Rapids, that’s a lot of people.
19) Thinking about buying a pair of TOMS, they’ve helped me in grief before.
20) Blogging, blogging has always helped.
So we are moving about, probably almost certainly. I can’t and shouldn’t officially announce where yet, but it’s not too far so that’s okay. And it has a nice parsonage so that’s nice too, I’m told they may give us free cable, I wouldn’t mind that.
I feel the weight of unrealized dreams. Dreams for the church plant, the house, the school I adore and want to chain myself to whist wearing more than one hoodie at once. The curtains I am certainly not going to let the new owners have. Unless it’s one of you… maybe.
I worry about the School situation for Noelle with her Sensory Processing Needs, which are real. She’s reading at a 4-5th grade level and I don’t see her sitting well for 7 hours in the “traditional classroom.” She’s too beautiful to be broken by an educational system that doesn’t fit her needs.
Kel is thrilled, he doesn’t want to move of course, but you should see him try to hide a grin when he talks about how exhausting Easter weekend is going to be. He’s happy, and I don’t want to smoosh that, he hasn’t had that in years.
I am worried how the kidlets are going to handle a third major transition, we’ve had one every spring/summer for the past three years. I am worried how I am going to handle it, I hate learning a new kitchen, even though this one has a dishwasher.
This blog doesn’t resolve. Life doesn’t resolve. That’s okay. Thanks for being on this journey with me.
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