ok, so you probably have no idea from reading this blog that we were even thinking about anything to do with moving. that’s because, though open and honest I may be about many things, my life isn’t a completely open book, here (plus, it was mostly just stressful and disappointment-wrought drivel that no one wanted to read about anyway and I didn’t feel like writing about). the truth is, for the past nearly two years, greg, the spousal unit, has been on the search for a different job. it became clear a while back that, like a kid in a six-month old pair of shoes, he had outgrown his then position and needed a new one. from that point to now, it’s been an arduous and trying journey but all of the waiting and rejection paid off at the end of January when he was finally offered a position.
he happened to be out of town for a conference and called me around 8 in the morning to break the news. I was still asleep with all the kids and the phone, which was right next to me on the windowsill (yes, and I sleep with all the lights on whenever greg is out of town, too), woke us up. “Hello?” I answered groggily. I have a hard time getting a good nights rest when I’m alone with the kids in the house at night. I sleep incredibly lightly and only allow myself to drift off to real sleep once it’s light out. “I have a question for ya.” I could hear the smile in his voice and I knew what he was about to say but I think I just mumbled, “what?” or something.
there are a few moments in a persons life that are real game-changers. the moment a parent dies. the moment a first kiss is planted. the moment someone opens a ring box and holds it out for you. the moment each of those faint lines appears on a pregnancy test and then of course that moment of birth, that moment that bridges the gap between the start of someone’s life and whatever cloudy quagmire of primordial soup lies just before. this was one of those moments. and, like the true self-conscious-to-a-flaw person that I am, as I often do in these situations, I found myself standing back from myself and watching from a distance instead of just staying put where I was. “How would you like to move?” Greg finally said after what was probably only half a second but what felt like at least an hour.
see? it just goes to show you how subjective time is. a clock ticks once per second, no second any longer than another. yet, some seconds seem to last much longer. and still others seem to have never existed at all. this second, or couple seconds, of conversation with greg not only seemed to be much longer than it really was, but still continues to grow as I ponder it, stretch it and prod at it and carry it with me. life can be sticky like that. a wangle teb.
in any case, it’s been a jolting, jostling, uncomfortable journey from there to here, as anyone who has moved with small kids can attest to. but…here we are. and all in once piece! or five pieces…of one family….oh, you know what I mean!
so begins a new chapter. I hope you’ll read along.