For so many people, the New Year is a time for establishing intentions, resolutions, goals, hopes and dreams—whatever you wanna call them—for the 365 unwritten days ahead.
And though it’s not really my official style to put these things down in writing, I figure it’s high time to share some major life changes that have been brewing for our family, and to state, for the record, that my goal for 2019 is to simply adapt and survive.
Because...we are moving to San Antonio.
(I’ll pause for a moment of silence, or shock and awe—whatever you’d prefer.)
Now back to our regularly scheduled reveal.
So...a couple months ago, the hubby was contacted by a recruiter for a position in SA. And, being the mischievous and heinously lovable man that he is, he came home one night and went directly to our three crazy spawn and said: “hey kids, who wants to live by Sea World???”
And I snorted.
And gave him a death stare.
And said, “absolutely not.” Hard no. Never in a million years. Nothankyouverymuch. I ain’t movin’ and I’m happy where I am. But you’re cute.
So naturally, the very next day, things progressed at lightning speed with this new position-that-I-refused-to-take-seriously.
By the following week, we were heading off to a vacation we’d been looking forward to for a year, with a giant storm cloud of seriously-this-can’t-be-happening hanging over our heads. But look how well we were smiling!
Of course, upon our return a few days later, things had grown so serious that the hubby and I left the morning after Halloween for a joint visit to SA and some in-office interviews (for him). I might have been smiling for these pics, but really, my tummy was in knots.
A week or two later, during our favorite Dallas Zoo visit we’ve ever had with our kiddos, we were contacted by the recruiter (on a blessed Saturday, no less) with the feedback that the hubby was definitely wanted for this job. And that’s when things tumbled downhill even faster. And I may or may not have started crying in the middle of the zoo cafeteria.
By the following weekend, our whole crazy family of five was down in SA, officially beginning a heinous-as-all-getout house hunt that was pretty much the worst weekend on the face of the earth.
Remember when Chica spent a day vomiting nonstop, and then wound up in the after-hours clinic, where she was diagnosed with strep throat? And within 48 hours, all of us—minus the hubby—had the strep and were heinously ill??
Yup. We were in SA that weekend—hauling plastic bags to all of our real estate stops. Until we finally gave up when Chica hurled all over the landscape rocks of one property (sorry to not buy your home, but we left you a lovely present anyway).
It. Was. Hell.
And I was convinced the city had a plague and we needed to stay far, far away.
By the time Thanksgiving rolled around just a few fever-induced days later, the official job offer was upon us and the decision was at our feet. But we were sooooo beaten down and exhausted that we literally crawled (like, literally) across the threshold of grandma and grandpa’s house when we made it to town.
But we spent as much quality time as we could, given the storm cloud hanging over our heads, and by the following Monday, the decision was made. By Wednesday, a “for sale” sign was in our front yard, and the meltdowns were aplenty.
Because I had 48 hours to get the house ready for the market, and then every day thereafter, I had to make sure that the playroom—and the rest of the house, for that matter—transformed from this...
To this.
Ever had your house on the market with three kiddos aged six and under, two weeks before your entire family is coming for Christmas??? With about a gazillion and one holiday activities and commitments thrown in the mix???
I mean, the morning after my happy Mystery Reading in Chica’s classroom (see Little Man and I below, dolled up and ready to head to school), we were off to SA again, to buckle down and find a house.
Though it was an insanely stressful and jam-packed weekend—our second one of full-fledged house hunting all over the SA area...I’m ridiculously relieved to report that we found something that gave us some hope and promise, and the the Monday we were back in town and on the Polar Express, we submitted an offer.
Somewhere in and around these pics, the hubby was on the phone with oodles of lenders, hunting down the lowest interest rates and fastest closing time frames. But we tried to set it all aside for some holiday joy—and we were totally successful on that front, even if there was still so much to do.
Our offer was accepted (praise the heavens), and Christmas joy was had by all. And just a few days ago, we closed on a lovely property in SA that we connected with, for whatever reason.
And then this morning, a contractor we hired somewhere in the midst of all this madness began to rip this lovely property-with-promise to shreds, to begin a massive remodel that I’m pretty sure we’re insane-in-the-membrane to be taking on at a time like this. But what a diversion it has been.
Take a look, folks. A brief glimpse of an entryway of a house, in a city we will eventually live in, before demo changes it all (the house, not the city). ;)
As it currently stands, the hubby is set to begin his new job in SA on Monday. Monday. But the kiddos and I will be staying here until our current house sells (hopefully, based on our realtor guesstimates and some pixie dust and unicorn tears, within the next month or so).
As it currently stands, the hubby is set to begin his new job in SA on Monday. Monday. But the kiddos and I will be staying here until our current house sells (hopefully, based on our realtor guesstimates and some pixie dust and unicorn tears, within the next month or so).
If you’re reading this post thinking it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, then you’re definitely catching the vibe I’m throwing, ha. And if you’re also reading this and thinking how much can be going on under the surface of someone’s life that you don’t even know about—even someone who posts about tiny life happenings nearly every day—then you’re also catching my subliminal vibe and compassionate reminder for us all!
Bottom line: I’m certainly feeling the weight of everything right now.
Though I know moves—even moves to cities you never ever planned on living in, where you know not a single soul and are out-of-driving-distance range of your family—are totally and completely common, this feels huge to me.
In my mind, I’m relating it all to a wedding—or a divorce, ha. Whichever way you want to look at it. ;)
Basically, it’s something totally common that happens to a million people every day, and we’re not at all special or more stressed than anyone else going through it. And we’ll survive, and maybe even thrive. But it’s life-changing for us in this moment. And I’m feeling all the feels associated with it.
Someday, when I’m feeling up to it, I might type up my thoughts on what it’s like to be leaving the city we’ve called home for the past 15 years. The city we selected jointly after college, because it held the most promise for both of us, and the careers of our choosing. And what it feels like to be shifting all of our eggs into the basket of my husband’s career.
Yes, yes, I know I don’t currently have a career that would be relevant to these discussions, and I haven’t since before my kiddos were born. But there’s something very vulnerable as a woman to submit to that kind of move. A move that shifts me away from all of the professional memories and contacts and connections that I ever made. And it’s been tough for me mentally to come to terms with that.
Or perhaps I’ll type about the weight and sadness I feel over giving up all the so-very-hard-earned relationships I’ve built for myself and my children during our early, formative family years. As a naturally social, but less-than-outgoing person, I find it so hard to put myself out there constantly on behalf of myself and my children so we can live richer lives with friends and support, and it’s soooo daunting to be facing that all again, from scratch.
But the greatest emotional burden I feel at present is just the unknown.
I’m a firm believer in God’s guidance in our life, and I’m so ridiculously proud of this professional opportunity for my husband, and truly feel in my gut, it’s the right decision. No one could be more deserving.
But I’m nervous for the transitions on behalf of my children and myself. I’m saddened by the weekday separation we’ll by facing from the hubby, until our house sells. And I’m certainly feeling the hemorrhaging of our pocketbooks as not-at-all proud owners of not one, but two homes, until we sell this one!
So again—my goal for 2019 is one of adaptation and survival. And I soooooo hope I’ll get to the end of this year and smile smugly at the silly, emotional woman who posted all of these bittersweet words and ended up so much happier than she could have guessed.
Wishful thinking???
Perhaps.
But I’ll go for it!
Happy (I hope, I hope, I hope) NEW EVERYTHING YEAR, peeps!
P.S. In the next day or so, I’ll tackle a post about the new, SA casa and the massive project we’re undertaking. I’m thrilled to report it’s been just the insane kind of diversion we needed in order to make our mark on a new house, in a new city. There are so many fun bits to it that I sooooo needed.
So...more soon!
Fun stuff. I promise. :)
Over and out.
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