I’ve been hinting at some potentially big, family news for weeks now. Some of you suspected a move might be in my future and you suspected right. I have so many mixed emotions about it that I can almost guarantee that I’ll be blogging about it for weeks to come. It just will probably be more organized than my rambling today about the road that lies ahead.
I’m moving. The secret is out. We’re moving. Not my blog, nothing figuratively. I mean, literally, I’m packing up house and moving. We’ve been toying with the idea for almost a year. Gone back and forth with where Sean might get a job. It started with a possibility of moving to Connecticut. We came thisclose to making it happen and at the last minute, it didn’t.
I didn’t want to move. And then I started looking around at houses in Connecticut and dreamed of living along the COnnecticut River and livingt hat quaint New ENgland life I’ve always dreamed about. And just when I started getting reallye xcited about leaving my house and my life behind, it fell through.
I think I was relieved but I’m not sure. I was happy to stay but disappointed that we had no big change to look forward to. Everything was staying the same. So then I thought, if we were going to move to COnnecticut, why don’t we open it up and move anywhere? Really? Where did our sense of adventure go? Oh yeah. It had a family.
Then another opportunity came up in the DC area. Okay, great! That’s where my family lives (close by, anyway) and I know the area having grown up in Maryland. And I already know so many wonderful bloggers in the area. But then I looked at houses and thought about the traffic and thought about how this was a place I grew up in and longed my whole life to escape from and here I was going back. Happy, but not happy.
It’s like when I was pregnant and all of the sufdden I was surrounded by pregnant women. And now that we’re moving, I’m surrounded by things that make me think our life, this house, this city is fabulous and what a horrendous mistake it will be to move.
And now that I’m a mom, I have to think about grown up things liek taxes and schools and stuff I have no clue about. And I just want to be home. I dreamed that my house would be the house I would grow old in. We planted trees and bushes and flowers. We’ve painted and remodeled. This house is our baby. It’s where we HAD our baby.
Am I the only one with these crazy emoptional attachments to my house? I see so mnay people packing up and moving and none of them ever seem to blubber about what they’re leaving behind.
And that concludes my 5-ish minute of my stream of consciousness.