8/27/13

8/27/13

And here we are.

I didn't think we'd get this far, and there's a small part of my doubting heart that wonders if Thursday will ever come.  But it's Tuesday.  It'll get here.

Our apartment is starting to get boxed up and I'm remembering back to the last time I boxed everything up.  When I was pregnant with Judah.  And all I had was a bed.  And moving to a small apartment with more than one room was an improvement.  The hard, big decisions I had to make to provide for Judah. 

Despite how heavy, chaotic, stressful it all feels, I look at my life and realize we have not regressed.  I say this with trepidation since I don't want to eat my words.  But I think it is ok, from time to time, to be wildly proud of yourself.  To look and see that we have kept moving forward, despite all the harrowing attempts to keep us still.  To pull us down. 

And so last year was a move from a one bedroom studio to an apartment without a washer and dryer.  I will be sad to leave this place, knowing this was Judah's first home.  Fourteen months we lived here, and he won't ever remember it.  Much like I don't remember living on Redding Rd with Larry and Tamera over twenty years ago.  But we were there.  And we are here, for just a few more days. 

Until we go to this new place.  The first place we might stay indefinitely. 

Deep breath, sigh. 

I don't know what comes next.  As do all things in our lives, it teeters precariously and I know one strong wind in the wrong direction and it all comes tumbling down.  But I do know I drove past yesterday, the empty place that waits for us.  And my soul stirred a little.  Maybe I imagined it.  Maybe I made it all up.  But I heard the good things are coming. 

This is entirely counterintuitive for me, because this entire time I have struggled with the idea of making such a huge decision and cementing Judah and myself in our current situation.  We are now immobile.

And there is little to no room for his baby clothes. 

9/11/13

I started writing this a few weeks ago and stopped... ran clean out of words.  We are moved in now, to the new place.  Most of the boxes are unpacked and sit empty by the kitchen door, and it warms my heart a little to know I have a house with a kitchen door.  But I can't quite get rid of the boxes yet because I don't know that we've really accepted this new home.  We're not going anywhere. 

Deep breath, sigh.

Life has hit us hard, fast.  It has been unkind the last few weeks and we have had to fight, scrappy.  If ever I wondered if my character was to have gumption, it has now been tested.  Can my lungs hold that much air, that much survival, can my shoulders bear this much weight?  It has all been tested. 

And here we are, so there's something to be said for that.

It feels a little like pouring brownie batter.  A little like the shaking it takes to even out the chocolate and meet the edges of the pan.  Just a little like that.  Spread thin, all shaken up. 

Or a little like living in someone else's house, in a hotel room.  Except I have to make the beds. 

It doesn't smell like us yet.  And I haven't figured out how to sleep through the night yet, even though Judah has.