We left our first home. In our last weekend there, I woke up before my husband and baby and decided to not only stay awake, but go out for a drive. "Who is this woman of mystery and adventure?" I said to myself as I drove to get donuts. Driving home with all of the sugar and caffeine, I felt myself getting a little weepy.
We won't be able to go and get Saturday morning donuts and coffee anymore.
Then I realized I was doing that thing where I get overly sentimental about scenarios that don't really exist. That was actually the first and only morning I'd ever decided to not sleep in and go get donuts and coffee.
|Teaching Walter how to play Candy Crush|
It was where we got our first Christmas tree - from a man in a parking lot. He told us (loudly) that our marriage would flourish IF AND ONLY IF we made a point to have sex under it once we took it home. Strangers were looking at us and we were really uncomfortable and I'm pretty sure Bryan said, "We'll think about it, but we have hard floors, so...that might hurt our backs."
It was where where I came home after leaving my job in the big bird, where we found out I was pregnant, where I dreamt my heart was a chicken tender, and when I became certifiably insane by going eleven days past my due date.
We had to make a decision quickly. We found out the night before we came home from the hospital with our newborn that our landlord was selling the house we lived in. My parents graciously offered for us to live with them for a while to save money and figure out our next step. (I should do a blog series on "HOW TO BE A BOOMERANG KID"). We scooped up our baby and our stuff and sometimes I cussed from the stress of it and now we live in the basement. It's funny, because when I was pregnant we were panicking about living in a one bedroom apartment with a baby and figuring out if we should go to a bigger apartment or buy a house. Now the three of us are living in an even smaller space, but it's sweet and good and it feels like we are catching our breath after a lot of big life changes happening in rapid succession.
I love being a mom, but the life change seems to have rendered me speechless whenever I sit down to try and write about it. I made a dark bargain with a sea witch and consequently, I've lost my voice. Oh wait, that was actually The Little Mermaid. Nevermind.
But really - I'm just in a season where I am trying to be still and quiet and figure out how to articulate the significance of becoming a mother without sounding like the most sentimental and redundant woman on the face of the earth.
Every time I look at her I think of that Walt Whitman quote, "You are so much sunshine to the square inch." I wish it was because I am well-versed in the likes of Whitman, but it's because I saw it on a greeting card and have never forgotten it.
I'm pretty sure I say it every time I blog once every five months, but thank you for reading my words.
And also, Hi Nan. I love you and miss you :)