Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Homeless, homeless

I don't mean to hurt Debbie's feelings when I say that we're homeless. She has, of course, fully opened her home--and her bounteous kitchen--to our little family. But it's so strange being without a place of our own. And also, I don't deal well with change. Actually, I'm horrible at it. And guess what? So is Norah. Poor, poor Nic.

So, yah. We listed our home in Eagle Mountain and it sold within a couple of weeks. That was awesome for my anxiety about selling our house before our new house was finished. But remember the part about Norah and I being terrible with change? The first night we went to sleep at Grandma Debbie's, Norah told me that she just wanted to go to her home and rest for a little while. And that's all I wanted to do, too.

You see, we've lived in our lovely little home for seven years--nearly our entire married lives. Norah hasn't known anything else. I had the best support system there, with two neighbors who have become some of my closest friends.

Norah was completely potty trained, and then when we moved in May, she was completely not. Her anxiety came out in reverting back to old habits and not sleeping, like, at all. My and Nic's anxiety came out in the form of depression. It wasn't the best couple of weeks.

I completely realize that how ridiculous this all is. Oh, you had to move out of your perfectly beautiful home so you can build a bigger, even more beautiful home? Someone needs to slap me in the face. Really, you're welcome to hit me over the head and tell me about your actual problems.

Most of all, though, I'm just grateful. I'm a better, more whole person than I was when I entered this home. Our time in this space in this little part of the world has been the best of my life. And I will always have that with me.

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