Progress

Folks, we are making progress! I have proof.

Moanna’s Room – Notice the pink. We have finally converted Mo’s crib into a toddler bed – no railing! Moanna and I put all of her books on her shelf, put her lamp together, and hung up these cute butterflies. I spent a good half an hour trying to hang up these butterflies, and they still are not spaced out evenly.

Moanna’s Bathroom/Guest Bathroom – Notice the pink. Despite my best efforts Moanna is obsessed with pink. I’m done fighting it, and have decided to embrace it. We have a pink rug, pink shower curtain, pink trash can, pink toothbrush holder, pink soap dispensers, pink, pink and more pink.

The Kitchen (left side) – Notice the bonsai tree; he made it here safely and I am happy to report has new leaves sprouting. You can’t see it from this picture, but every single cabinet is packed full. I’m talking to the brim. As you can see there is very little cabinet space and therefore very little counter space. Also, if you look above the fridge and squint, you can see plastic wrap and storage bags this is due to the fact that I have a total of 3 (THREE) drawer in my kitchen.

The Kitchen (right side) – Notice the stove; it’s a gas stove and as of 8:00AM (we were woken up by the gas company pounding on our door to start our gas service) it works. Now, I just have to learn how to cook on the darn thing. Again, as you can see the counter, cabinet and drawer space is lacking.

The Pantry (the teeny-tiny pantry) – Notice that it’s full. This is not because I went out grocery shopping. This is the food that we brought with us from Virginia. We gave a good 75% of our pantry food away before we left VA, and I still have a tote full of baking supplies that I have no home for. When I opened this door, I almost cried. When I opened this door, I was 100% convinced that a bachelor who lives off of frozen dinners designed this kitchen. I was already 95% convinced by looking at the rest of the kitchen, but this pushed me over the edge. I can’t fit a weeks worth of groceries in here, and forget about long term food storage.

The Nook – Notice it’s empty. At first glance, this may not look like progress, but believe me it is. All of the stuff that now fills my cabinets used to be packed in boxes filling this nook. Since I have no counter space, no drawers and no storage, I need something to fill this space that will give me all three. We’ve looked at a few options, but so far nothing really jumps out at me. Any suggestions?

Three rooms down, we’re less than half way done. It’s fair to say that we’re less than 25% done. Stay tuned.

The Move – Part 1: The Offer and The Answer

Hello world! A friend sent me a text this morning and it said, “Are you alive?” I took it as a hint that you too might want to know if we made it to the land of Atlanta. We made it to Atlanta late Wednesday night, and yes I am alive – just barely, but I’m alive. We are far from “settled” (I don’t even know what that means), I am currently high-jacking internet from the neighbors and it takes a flipping century to get gas hooked up in these parts so we’ve spent the entire week without hot water or the ability to cook. That aside, the bonsai tree made it, and I remembered to pack toilet paper in my “Open This First Box” (although I did have to drip dry once because I left it in the car), and the traffic, well I haven’t had a need to venture more than five miles away from my home, so I’ll have to get back to you on that one. There is so much I can’t wait to tell you about because once I’m done crying about it all, it’s actually quite hilarious. For now, I thought we should adventure back to how this whole thing started, starting with why we moved. It goes all the way back to a very brutal winter in Virginia.

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When we moved back to my hometown after college, we always knew it would be a temporary stop. I was very pregnant at the time, and we needed to get a good grasp on the world around us before heading off to unchartered territory as adults and as young parents. After Moanna turned two, we started to get antsy, and began to really investigate our options outside of our tiny town. Steve was ready to advance in his career and I was very much over failing at balancing work and motherhood and the rest of my life. We prayed and we searched, and we prayed and we searched for opportunities to allow us to move onto the next phase of our lives.
Just a few months after returning to a job that Steve loved and had really missed over the past several years, he was up for a promotion. A promotion that would send us to Atlanta, Georgia. A promotion that could potentially provide enough income that I would finally be able to be a stay at home mom. I was beginning to get physically ill knowing that my family was not being taken care of as I worked 10-14 hour days. It was a wonderful opportunity for us. We agreed that if Steve were ultimately offered the position, he would accept and we would truck ourselves to the Deep South and start the next chapter.
To be honest with you, I was not 100% convinced that Steve would get the job. Of course, I believed in him, but he was just returning to the company. I also assumed that since the job didn’t begin until May (which was more than six months away at the time) we would have plenty of time to mull things over.
It was a bitter cold winter day in Virginia. My body was aching more than usual, an ache that penetrates deep into the bones. I was happy to be leaving work at a reasonable hour. As I was driving home, I was day dreaming about talking to Steve for a bit and then getting into my jammie-clothes and zoning out on the couch for awhile.
Steve was in the living room doing some paper work on the coffee table when I walked in the house.

“Hey babe. How was your day?”

“Eh, it was OK. How about you? How was your talk with the guy in Georgia?”

“Not bad. We talked about the responsibilities of the job, and some other stuff, but he was driving and kept loosing service. We’re going to talk more later tonight.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Hey, we should go out on a date.”

“Ugh, I don’t feel like going anywhere. It’s freezing out there, and I just want to rest.”

“Come on. Mo’s not here and you got on me the other week for not taking you out in a long time. We may not have another night together for awhile.”

“Fine.”

Fast forward to dinner…

“So tell me more about the position in Georgia. What all did the guy have to say?”

“Well, we mostly talked about the job responsibilities and the territory.”

“Yeah.”

“And then we got into talk about what neighborhoods were best to live in because he offered me the job and I accepted!”

“What!?”

“Isn’t that great!”

“What!?”

“Aren’t you happy?”

“I think I’m going to throw up…”

“Is that because you’re excited or you want to punch me? Because, right now, I can’t tell.”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

**It is important to note that the restaurant we went that night is tiny. It’s a small tapas restaurant and no matter where you are seated everyone else can see you and hear your conversations.**

“This is what you wanted right?”

“Yes, I guess. I thought that we wouldn’t know either way for a couple of months and that we would be able to talk it over before you accepted.”

“He made the offer and I accepted because we already knew that if I was given the opportunity we would take it. Plus this gives us more time to plan.”

“I guess so, but I’m mostly pissed that you ruined my dinner with your good news. Good news or bad, food does not need a side of life changing news.”

“I didn’t realize that telling you that our prayers had been answered would make you lose your appetite.”

“Do I need to remind you that I warned you about proposing in a restaurant? I told you that if you proposed in a restaurant I would say NO.”

“Yes… I remember.”

“Don’t ruin my food with your sentiment.”

“I get it! So, are you happy or not?”

“I still haven’t decided.”

I really didn’t know how I felt. I felt a lot of things – too many things to process and verbalize. I needed to get aquatinted with my emotions before I could share them with Steve, or anyone else. I was excited for Steve. I felt betrayed that he didn’t tell me when I asked him about the call when I first got home. I was excited to leave my job. I was so sad to leave my family, friends and the world that I had grown up in. I was thrilled that I would be able to take care of my family and home. I was bitter, that I never had the chance to be a stay-at-home-mom in Buena Vista where we had family and friends to spend time with, and where I could do things with Moanna that I did growing up. I was happy that Steve was finally given the opportunity to provide for his family in a way that would make him happy. I was terrified to be with Moanna all day, everyday; we’ve never done that. I was excited that I would be able to find balance in my life instead of continuing the cycle of crashing and burning. I was sad to leave my job. I was excited for the unknown and the adventure. I was afraid of the unknown and the challenges. I was ready to leave this cold brutal winter. I was really angry that I had lost my appetite.

Mostly though, I was thinking, Holy crap! God does answer prayers! Now what in the hell am I supposed to do? He gave me his side of the bargain, now I actually have to follow through and do and be all of these things I have been asking for. It’s one thing to really want something, and to pray for it daily, but when God answers and gives you everything you want, then what?