on moving homes

Moving houses is something.

It is a tremendous loss.  The memories.  The solidity of it all.  Having a house to call home. We intended to move.  This is a good move.  I needed a second bathroom.  Wouldn’t that be nice.  And a garage.

But 8 years.  My babies were born here.  I mean — here.  And here.

They grew here. They loved and laughed and walked and discovered and ran here.

Oh the tears streamed.  They sometimes still do.

But I am moving my house, not moving my home.

My home is my babies and my family.  My husband and the love we have for one another.  We are together, the four of us.  We are our home.

We are blessed with this move, we are blessed to know there is something better, we did not lose our house, we are blessed and we are thankful.  We are blessed to having a loving, warm, clean, safe home to live in during this interim time of confusion and uncertainty.  But it is hard.

I’m glad, after the constant packing and lifting and repeating…. we came back to the house (pictures below).  (Moving and moving trucks and storage units and pods…. don’t do it.)  We said goodbye.  The kids understood.  John has expressed sadness.  Mostly about leaving our next door neighbors, the cows.  May has said, since, “I miss our old house.”

But, for the most part, and the best part of this move, is that the kids have been completely fine.  They are happy to live at grandma’s right now.  We are incredibly blessed to have family to take us in while we searched for the perfect new home.  Christmas was a blessing and I’m afraid that John and May won’t be ready or willing to leave when it’s time.  They love their grandma and grandpa.  They love getting a new toy (yep….) every morning.  (….)

And I have to remember that this is only for a time.

I am a mom.  It has been extremely humbling to try to be the mom when there are so many “parents” in the home.  I’m an introvert mom.  A homebody mom.  A me mom.  A stubborn mom.  A do-it-my-way mom.  I thrive on alone time and letting my kids run free.  I thrive on creating activities for them and inspire learning with them.  This has not been a possibility.  We are out and about with planned activities and outings every day.  (survival).  I love parenting.  I love to have my space, organized just so.  I love to be in my own space, creating.  I love to just be and not have to run, run, run.  But (survival).  This is hard.

My absence here has been very much due to the fact that I cannot create.  Not right now.  I cannot think or even breathe at times.  But this is just for a time.

The right home has even come along — it will be ours in a few weeks.  After losing two homes due to inspections, I am cautious and (very) optimistic.  Feeling very fatigued with the process, I look forward to continuing our home in our new house.  We have grown.  God knows I have grown.  More humble me.  Quiet me.  Reflective me.  Self controlled me.  These months have been a huge time of growth for me as I’ve learned to try to let go and just be during this time of transition.

But I long to share with all of you our new home.  If it is ours — I have a homeschool room.  If it is ours — we have a river just down the way.  If it is ours — I have another beautiful yard for my kids to run free.  I believe in the power of waiting and longing and praying for God to bless us.  He has.

Saying goodbye (I’m bawling.)

Last run through the yard.

Last walk (and crawl) around the empty house.

In the garage, together.  They are a team.  They have been each others’ rocks.  They are mine too.