Adaptation
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When I last left you, I was:
-Selling a house
-Moving out of a house
-Moving into an apartment
-Buying a house
-Having Christmas
and
-Taking a vacation
All in the same seven-day period.
I would not recommend it.
At one point a few weeks ago, I sat down to have lunch with some friends. One of them very sweetly looked me in the eye and said, "So, how are you?"
I immediately burst into tears and realized that I was NOT doing as well as I thought I was. It was an epiphany for me because I am great at pretending life is perfect when it's not.
Later, on the phone with the ever-traveling Husband, I shared this epiphany with him and he hit the nail right on the tip of its pointy, stupid head.
What he said in much-nicer words than this was essentially that I am like a three-year-old thrown out of my routine. And I really, really like my routine. I need my routine.
I've felt a bit lost. Like the ground underneath me is unsteady, with sharp, craggy rocks under my bare feet. I've had to readjust everything. How I lived. How I cooked. How I grocery shopped. I was not sure what my new day-to-day schedule would be. How I would manage a household with two-thirds less of a house to live in. How I would get my kids to and from school, especially given the fact that two of the three had massive anxiety about riding a new bus. Where would I, quite honestly, put all of the stuff I deemed necessity, even though it doesn't fit anywhere here in the apartment? I tossed and turned with worry at night, and blinked back tears during the day.
And slowly, oh, so very slowly, the hours have ticked by and I've found my tentative footing. I've made trip after trip to the Container Store, finding ways to organize our life here that is manageable for me. I've rearranged kitchen cupboards and made peace with the appliances that will sit on the counter for a few months. I've worked out the school logistics, and helped my kids manage their stress. I've even been able to fall asleep at night.
I feel safely sure that when someone asks me now how I am doing, the answer will not end in tears.
And that, my friends, is a pretty great place to be in.
-Selling a house
-Moving out of a house
-Moving into an apartment
-Buying a house
-Having Christmas
and
-Taking a vacation
All in the same seven-day period.
I would not recommend it.
At one point a few weeks ago, I sat down to have lunch with some friends. One of them very sweetly looked me in the eye and said, "So, how are you?"
I immediately burst into tears and realized that I was NOT doing as well as I thought I was. It was an epiphany for me because I am great at pretending life is perfect when it's not.
Later, on the phone with the ever-traveling Husband, I shared this epiphany with him and he hit the nail right on the tip of its pointy, stupid head.
What he said in much-nicer words than this was essentially that I am like a three-year-old thrown out of my routine. And I really, really like my routine. I need my routine.
I've felt a bit lost. Like the ground underneath me is unsteady, with sharp, craggy rocks under my bare feet. I've had to readjust everything. How I lived. How I cooked. How I grocery shopped. I was not sure what my new day-to-day schedule would be. How I would manage a household with two-thirds less of a house to live in. How I would get my kids to and from school, especially given the fact that two of the three had massive anxiety about riding a new bus. Where would I, quite honestly, put all of the stuff I deemed necessity, even though it doesn't fit anywhere here in the apartment? I tossed and turned with worry at night, and blinked back tears during the day.
And slowly, oh, so very slowly, the hours have ticked by and I've found my tentative footing. I've made trip after trip to the Container Store, finding ways to organize our life here that is manageable for me. I've rearranged kitchen cupboards and made peace with the appliances that will sit on the counter for a few months. I've worked out the school logistics, and helped my kids manage their stress. I've even been able to fall asleep at night.
I feel safely sure that when someone asks me now how I am doing, the answer will not end in tears.
And that, my friends, is a pretty great place to be in.
