before a live audience

i kind of get why stand-up comics do what they do. i've seen them interviewed on tv before, and they say stuff like, "i love the rush i get from making people laugh," or "there's such a different energy when you have an audience. you feed off them, and it makes your performance better." and i was kind of like, whatever. i've performed before and the only energy i feel is nervous, i'm-gonna-die-soon energy. of course, the goal of my performances is never to evoke laughter--i'm talking piano recitals, flute solo with choir numbers in church, high school band concerts--where people are there to show their support, not be entertained. i always did my best, but i certainly wouldn't have charged admission. so a live audience for me was more of a hindrance. i always perform better when i'm background music--people are mingling around me but i don't have to participate because i'm pouring my soul into the piano, which is a perfect fit for my mood sometimes.

 

anyway, i was reading some of my other blog to my boys today. it's the family blog, so it's about them. and they're seven and almost five, so they think everything they do is pretty hilarious. also, much of what i've written lately has had to do with poop. so pretty much a guaranteed crack-up. but it surprised me how funny it was to watch them be so overcome that speech was impossible. 

this is not a prelude to a career change for me. i'm not going to pursue the stand-up scene. i'm more of a sit-down comic, i think, if "comic" could rightly be applied to what i write. but it was pretty enlightening (not to mention fun) to read my "material" for such a great audience. i've gotten comments that some of my writing is amusing, but it's not the same as witnessing a belly laugh, you know? maybe i'm only funny to the 5- to 7-year-old crowd, but that's who i'm hanging out with these days anyway. :) 

more thoughts from the chair

baby number two:
i learned that i'm not in charge. turns out having been through the process of pregnancy and childbirth once doesn't make you able to dictate the schedule of the next one. i knew from being a mom that i'm not "the boss" in my own house, but i didn't really know how deep that went until we were hoping to get pregnant and it kept not happening, month after month. then i took a test and it was positive. and then five days later i lost it. my doctor at the time was no help. i never got to speak to her on the phone about anything that was happening, so i didn't know whether what i was experiencing was normal, or what i could reasonably expect, and i didn't know who else to ask.
interestingly enough, my sister told me that she was pregnant a few weeks after i miscarried. and she wasn't looking forward to the next few months. pregnancy is hard on her. i thought i took this news in stride and was excited for her, and was able to listen when she told me how she was feeling. but i was also depressed, and you don't see yourself clearly when you're depressed. 

one day we were talking about our respective situations, and she said, "i don't know what lesson i'm supposed to be learning from all this." and it occurred to me that we were supposed to be learning the same lesson from our opposing experiences, which was this: our children are not ours. they come through us, but they are on loan from our Heavenly Father. He is in charge of when they come. all we can do is decide that we are ready to receive them. 

when my sister was laboring with that baby, i realized that i had been harboring resentment that she had been able to stay pregnant when i hadn't. i had lost the competition before i knew she had entered it. but now, i felt like i was really with her. i prayed for her all that night and was so relieved that her side of this same trial that we had experienced together was going to be over. and it didn't matter that i didn't know when my trial of not being pregnant would end. finally, it didn't matter. i think it was the first time in about a year that i had really been able to let go of my frustration, my obsession, with having another baby, and really feel for someone else. it was a kind of rebirth for me, the night my newest nephew was born. 

and, interestingly enough, a few weeks later, i had switched doctors, and discovered that i was pregnant with our second child.

thoughts from the chair

i went to the dentist last week. we've been going to her since my oldest was a baby, and she has been excited to meet my children as they have arrived. yesterday she met my daughter, our fourth child, who is five months old.

the meeting prompted this question:
"have you learned something different from each pregnancy?"

kind of a deep question to answer when you've got several instruments in your mouth, right? anyway, i've been thinking about it a lot since then, composing sentences as i sit nursing, change diapers, sort laundry, do dishes, walk to school, make dinner, change more diapers...

so here goes.

baby number one:
i learned that being a mother is work. it's not just holding the baby, cooing at the cuteness, nursing every so often, changing the occasional diaper, and swapping birth stories with other moms (which, by the way, was one of the weirdest things to me about becoming a mother).
that is only the beginning. it's also washing blankets and onesies and scrubbing the carpet after an explosion of bodily fluids, feeding the baby every two hours around the clock, trying to put two words together when you've had no sleep for months (isn't sleep deprivation a method of torture?), wondering whether you are more than a food source when it feels like that's all you're doing all day long. it's holding and rocking and diapering and washing and bathing and wiping and swaddling and feeding and burping and clipping tiny fingernails. all day. and your baby needs you. you are the only one.
oh, and on top of everything you're doing for the baby, why is your kitchen a mess? where's dinner? why aren't you wearing clean clothes? when was the last time you showered? brushed your teeth? why isn't your baby wearing socks? is that the same outfit he wore yesterday? do you know what day it is?
it's a straight-into-the-deep end kind of shock, coming home with a newborn. and i think i resented it a little. i knew in my bones that i was embarking on my magnum opus, the most important thing i would ever do. and the sudden deepening of the love i had for my husband as well as the staggering, instant love i had for my son told me that it was going to be a wonderful ride. and not every day of my life as a new mother felt like i was slogging through the desert with a ten-pound pack and no water. sometimes i felt like i had my act together and enjoyed myself, even. :)
but it's hard to reconcile the idea that you're not the most important person in your life anymore.

the perils of multitasking

i went to target the other day with only the three youngest of my children. my oldest had a birthday party the next day, and so i was on research for the present he wanted to get for his friend. the way to target was somewhat treacherous, being unknown to me and full of road work, but we made it there eventually. the baby was wailing when we arrived, so i put her in the baby wrap and started nursing as soon as i could. the other two were in the stroller and i was walking around for probably 5 or so minutes before realizing that nursing was a bit more painful than it should have been. i finally looked down and my daughter was sucking away but not getting any milk because she was "latched" about an inch away from where she needed to be!

so i came home from the store with a birthday present, sunday pants, a jack-o-lantern t-shirt, and a hickey on my breast. awesome.

why i love being a mom

 

a few weeks ago, we went to a birthday party. it was a pirate-themed birthday party for a friend of my four-year-old. a few days after that party, this is how i found him. and i had to take a picture. he said he was going to protect me from bad guys.

end of an era

today is the last day of my twenties. it is suddenly becoming momentous in my mind, though all the milestones i set up expectations for as a child (and was subsequently disappointed) are all past. that's not to say that my life has been disappointing; i just have had trouble managing expectations my whole life. expecting to be a certain way without making the decisions that would lead to the outcome i wanted.
so i think rather than set up expectations for my thirties, i want to make a list of what i've accomplished so far--and maybe explain why i don't feel very different turning 30.
1. i completed my bachelors' degree at the age of 22
2. i got married at the age of 21
3. i got my driver's license at the age of 22
4. i had my first baby at the age of 23, second at 25, third at 27, and will give birth to my fourth a month after my 30th birthday
5. we bought a house when i was 29 (having saved up by nodding when my husband made sensible suggestions about what we should do with our money that he earned)

so those are the major things i've done. of course my life is more full than a list of accomplishments. and i'm sure i'm sabotaging some of the fullness i could be enjoying--i can think of a thousand things i need to stop doing, but here are a few i wanted to put down:
1. stop looking for approval from the wrong sources.
2. stop wishing away the good old days. it was quite a revelation to me when my dad told me i'm living the "good old days" right now.
3. stop spending energy on what i wish others would do.
4. stop wondering whether i'm good enough. i am. the end.

i've heard that your twenties are about figuring out who you are (thank you, oprah). and it seemed to me that that sentiment carried with it the warning or assumption that you shouldn't commit yourself to another person or have children until you do know who you are. i did both, obviously, and i think that it has been the best way for me to figure out who i really am: changing the thousandth diaper, getting up to nurse a baby at 2 am, and 4 am, letting my husband sleep at night because he had to go to work, knowing i could sleep when the baby slept, weeping while holding a screaming child because i didn't know what else to do, cleaning up the 6th puddle in a day, making dinner with three little voices and bodies clamoring. and at the conclusion of that time, i can tell you that i am a child of God, a wife, and a mother, in that order. sometimes i feel that the bulk of my time is spent doing things for my children, but i know that if i forget my identity as a child of God, or if i neglect my marriage, or if i neglect my children, everything suffers. i know that my life is part of a greater purpose. i love my life, including my mistakes and embarrassing moments, because it has all led me to now. i know that if i enjoy what moments i can, that everything is better. and so, i say a grateful farewell to my twenties. grateful for what i've learned, what i've accomplished, and what i can safely leave in the past.

i'm pretty much where i hoped i would be by the end of my twenties. i think the only timed goal i've set for myself in my thirties is that i want to be absolutely done bearing children by the age of 35. and things are looking pretty good on that front. i'm pretty sure this next decade of my life will be about becoming. everything is in place: college education, husband, children, house. for ten or so years, my whole life was about preparing for this time of my life. so now i'm here, and the question is what do i want to become? i'm trying to embrace the idea of priorities dictating decisions: if you already know what is important to you, your decisions should reflect that. if you don't know what's important to you, take a hard look at the decisions you make, how you spend your time, and what things make you feel fulfilled.

as i write, my two oldest children are discussing the minutia of their current lego creations: what each gun is capable of, and whose top speed is faster (6 billion miles per hour probably wins).

and just now, my four-year-old came over and rubbed my belly, and said, "i love you, little baby."

i enjoy what moments i can. happy birthday to me. :)

a day to shake one's confidence

this morning i was slow getting up and ready. i sent my husband and son off to work and school, respectively, and settled in to check email and chat online before getting myself ready for the day. i was just about to start planning meals and making a shopping list when the doorbell rang, and on my way down the stairs to get the door i was racking my brain for who could possibly be calling on me at 9 am. it was my friend, here to watch my children while i played piano for a concert starting at 8:45 am!

i got dressed as quickly as possible and dashed out of the house without eating anything (big mistake when you're 8 months pregnant), arriving as the act after the one i was involved in was wrapping up their performance. i confessed my forgetfulness to the chorus teacher, who thought i must have gone into labor. perhaps i shouldn't have disabused her of that theory by showing up. she told me to come back for the next performance in the afternoon, and i left, hanging my head in shame.

so i was there for the less attended performance, which i was told went better than the morning one. awesome. the chorus teacher even made a big deal about the fact that my son didn't go to that school anymore but kept showing up to play for her. "now that's a dedicated volunteer." applause.

after the performance, i went home, woke up my sleeping child to pick up the oldest at school, so we could get to the dentist by 3:00. we made it by 3:15 or so, only to be told that our appointment was actually tomorrow, same time. really?

i used to rely on my memory to keep all my stuff straight, and since having children that capacity has diminished some. so i try to write things down more. when i got home today i noticed that my performance and the dentist appointment were written down on the calendar by the phone, on the appropriate days.

mind like a steel trap.

or sieve, i can't remember which.

perspective

i think for a lot of my life i have attempted to paint my struggles as serious adversity. and they were, to me, at the time. but in the grand scheme of things, my life is not one you'd write a novel about. i had the normal struggles of growing up and keeping the faith, but beyond that, the blessings seriously outweigh the trials. outside my own mind and learning to see things for what they are, the adversity i have experienced has been vicarious. dear friends of mine have been raising children through divorce, or through grieving over a lost child, or dealing with infertility, or suffering for decisions their children have made. me? i finished high school, went to college, got married, finished my degree, and then my husband got an awesome job, we had three babies, and here we are. and yet, people with heavy burdens continue to want to be my friends. so i guess i'm a safe place to land. one friend thanked me for never judging her despite the differences between us. really the only differences i saw were my unworthiness to share the same air she breathed. i am awed by people who can go through such crazy times and come out whole--and still think i'm worth the time to ask about my life.

so i guess my point in all this is that i'm deciding that my life should be less about me and more about the people i could be helping. because what is a life like mine worth if i'm focused on my own little world all the time? it will take some time, i'm sure, to make the shift, since i have been focused on my own little world all the time. but i find more and more that the people i admire are quick to notice a need and then fill it whenever possible. and the whole thing is second-nature and without fanfare.

so, obstacles in my way:

a lifetime of being pretty concerned about myself

a desire to be recognized for things i do that are good (although i'm getting better at being anonymous and liking it)

a fear that a need i perceive and try to fill might be totally off the mark, bordering on offensive to the person i try to help

most likely remedy:

lots of prayer

lots of listening

wish me luck!

observation

today we arrived in utah after a day in the car. travel was about what i expected with three little boys in the back. my middle child was told that we were going to see snow on this trip, which meant, to him, that we would see snow today. but it was a balmy 60 degrees in beaver when we arrived this evening, and my poor son was disappointed. no snow on the ground. i felt for him. i thought we were going to hear about it for the rest of the night, at least, if not the rest of the trip. and then, we got back to our hotel after dinner, and there was a little patch of snow behind the hotel, protected from the sun just long enough for my little boy to run through it seven times before deciding it was too cold to stay outside in the wind (he was in shorts and a T-shirt).

he was perfectly happy with that little patch as the fulfillment of the promise of snow.

never mind the fact that we had driven eight hours to get to that little patch of snow. to him, economy of time is completely irrelevant. he has no concept of opportunity cost or whether the payoff is worth his effort. he just enjoyed running through the snow that he was promised he would see on this trip.

sometimes i wish i were more like that. how often do i come up with completely unrealistic notions of what something will be like and then totally miss whatever joy i could have been experiencing because it's just a little patch of snow in the shadow of a hotel in beaver, utah? i was picturing major snowdrifts! hot chocolate! scarves and snow boots! hours of enjoyment! a sleigh ride a la laura ingalls wilder! i can't possibly be satisfied with this mockery of my romanticized vision! but maybe half the fun of getting there is letting reality sink in and laughing at my romanticized vision. it is april, after all. how much snow did you expect?

little hugs

my dad told me that right now, in my life, when my days are full of cleaning up puddles and wiping noses and changing diapers and buckling seatbelts and velcroing shoes and endless, endless laundry, that these are the "good old days." i am finding that he is absolutely right. one night recently, my family and i were sitting on the couch in front of the TV while one of the boys was doing a silly walk and laughing hysterically at himself. i was leaning against my husband, laughing at what was going on, but at the same time i had a deeper understanding that life doesn't really get any better than this. i almost felt like the scene took on a glow for a minute, and i could see that even though it was a very simple thing happening, i needed to remember this.

i'm sure my sons won't remember that particular moment in time when they get older, and this is only one of many moments that are common, everyday happenings, but are etched with the added significance of demonstrating just how sweet life can be as i watched my kids be kids and felt that i was indeed doing everything i could for them, and getting the reward of knowing that they are happy and healthy and that we all are blessed beyond imagining.

i believe this moment, and others like it, were "hugs from the Lord," as my uncle tom called them. a little assurance that He knows me, my struggles, my triumphs, and He is helping me to realize who i want to be and what i really want through moments like these: i want to be the best version of myself, and i want to be a good wife and mother, and raise good children who will be forces for good in the world. i believe that is my mission. and i think being able to look at my life right now with gratitude is probably an important part of that.

unexpected

things i didn't know would make me feel like a grown-up, but do:

1. a walk-in closet

2. an upstairs

3. a washer and dryer that i picked out and bought--because i thought it was the best one.

4. a house that isn't just "good enough for now"

5. a really big bathroom just for me and my husband. (this morning, i took a shower in my new bathroom and felt so exposed because i had to take more than two steps to get from the door to the shower.)

things i knew would make me feel like a grown-up, and do:

1. a mortgage

2. a kid old enough to be in school

3. a minivan

4. a lawnmower in our possession

5. more than one kids' bedroom

it has been somewhat dreamlike buying a house. everything was hypothetical and on paper. actually moving into our first home has been really fun (if you discount my feet that don't stop aching after 7 hours of sleep--oh, and my back). the week or two before the move, my emotions were very mixed. not just about the change, but the fact that we wouldn't be moving far away to a new state, which has been our supposed plan for over 5 years. but now that we are actually here, figuring out the best way to organize our space, i find myself planning for the future quite happily--something i never thought would happen. when we started looking for a house, and i was sulking because we were looking here instead of in greener pastures, my mom said an improved living situation would totally change my outlook on our location. and, of course, she was right. so here we are. in a nice house. like grown-ups.

why one should not move while pregnant

i don't know whether it was my body or my brain that woke me, but it's feeling impossible to get back to sleep now. my back won't loosen enough to get comfortable: i keep flipping over, realize this position isn't any better than the last, and then focus on my back and neck only to realize that i am crouched down, as if i'm trying to get through a tunnel several inches shorter than my height. what i really want to do is lie on my stomach for a while, but i am way past the point of lying on my stomach with any degree of comfort. there's kind of a mass between my stomach and the bed. that mass actually keeps jumping around just when i try to relax out of my crouch again.

also, i'm hungry!

and then there's my mind: movers are coming to pack us tomorrow, (i hope! i tried to call back and confirm that they were coming but convinced myself that sitting on hold for 20 minutes wasn't productive, so troy emailed them in reply to a confirmation request. hope that's enough!) and i did all i could think of to do last night to organize and sort and leave things relatively neat so the packing and unpacking will go smoothly, but i'm also getting a little frantic thinking about what else i should have done and what i should do today, most of it depending on other people who aren't up yet, like sane people.

and then there's the problem of every little noise in the house being magnified because it's totally devoid of kid noise. the clock ticking, a cricket chirping. oh the cricket has stopped now. you know how in movies sometimes they'll get closer and closer to the clock with every tick? that's what it feels like right now. i'm practically inside the clock.

i suppose my mind would be racing in a moment such as this, pregnant or not. but it certainly doesn't help matters. if i could have stayed asleep instead of my awesomely pregnant body waking me up...

wish me luck.

motley assortment

1. i love when my children play together behind a closed door and i get to hear the crazy stories they come up with, unaided by anything electronic. just play. they provide voices, storyline, sound effects

2. i have a strong dislike for dog hair in my house. a friend of ours came over last night and brought her dog with her. it was raining outside so i couldn't just send the dog and the boys outside to play, so everybody was inside. i tried really hard not to mind, and the poor creature was fine once my boys left her alone. it was only this morning that i noticed the pile of hair under my piano where the dog had been sitting.

3. speaking of not a good time, i think i will rejoice when my life does not revolve around the excretory systems of any number of small people.

4. have i mentioned how excited i am to not be sharing a bathroom with my children? i went to go today and moved the step stool out of the way of the toilet without thinking about it. then i thought, i won't have to do this again after next week! no one who will be using my bathroom will need a step stool!

hallelujah.

things i wish for sometimes

i wish i could sit down with a tutor or one of my linguistics professors from college and just talk about different language questions i have, or talk about the likelihood of certain theories i've come up with over the years. one such theory has to do with the different accents in the new world vs their old world counterparts. i think the english, french, and spanish spoken on this side of the Atlantic have departed from their European roots in the same general way. i think it would be a very fun research project, but i would have to learn french and spanish as they are spoken here, and also spend time learning how they are spoken in europe (wouldn't that be an awesome reason to go to europe for a few months?). my underlying theory is that over here we're lazier. way more slang, looser diphthongs, looser morals about grammar and borrowings and coinage. maybe i'll do some research someday.

i wish i could sit down and really study cantonese again without the i'm-not-immediately-good-at-this-therefore-i-fear-it wall. because i did get good at certain aspects of it! it would be fun to study with my husband. what a hot tutor. :) i want to get out my calligraphy stuff again too, but i fear it has been too long and i don't really have a text book per se. just equipment and the fading memory of my class to go by.

i wish there were still such a thing as summer break after one's formal education is over.

wow. it really sounds like i want to go back to school. how can this be? when i finished college i thought i would never find the idea of stressing over papers, projects, and tests appealing again. of course, since then my life has become, shall we say, more populated. different stressors that have nothing to do with being evaluated (except in my own mind) are far more taxing than anything school threw at me. obviously, when i think about doing it in my current state, the idea immediately loses its appeal. why in the world would i put myself through that? i don't have any urgent, passionate need to get a masters in linguistics or audiology or copy-editing right now. but i also don't have the discipline or attention span to make a real study of anything on my own. so, i value conversations that center around language, and am on the lookout for good books on the subject. to remind me that i am an intellectual of sorts.

maybe i'll start with tolkien. i read a very simple biography (meant for children slightly older than mine) a while ago and i am still wondering what terrifying secrets weren't broached, and which might taint the image i have of him (it seems to be the mission of some biographers to smear famous dead people). so it is with trepidation that i consider finding a more detailed biography. although maybe the best way to find out more about him is to read what he wrote. i am ashamed to say i only ever read fellowship. maybe this summer break...

pensieve

i am restless. i have been lying in bed for an hour wishing my mind would calm down. so here are the random wanderings, in the hope that sleep will follow if they can stop pinging the walls of my mind.

1. my baby and i are apparently affected by overloads of chocolate. i spent most of the evening thinking i didn't understand what people were talking about when they said they were hyper after eating too much chocolate. then i came home and tried to sleep, but my pregnant body is pulsing more quickly than normal (you know that feeling of your whole body pulsing instead of having to find it, like after you've been exercising? it happens all the time when you're pregnant.) and the baby is doing a serious jig. i don't think i've felt her move this much for this long yet.

2. tomorrow i need to get really crackin' on preparing our house for a move. all i have to do is find homes for everything. no heavy lifting or finding boxes or packing my own kitchen. is that so hard? i think because i know someone else will be actually putting our stuff into boxes and then moving it, i have been feeling like it's all taken care of, and it will require no effort from me at this end. not so. at least, not if i want the unpacking to be less of a nightmare than it has to be.

3. i am going to miss the young women in this ward. i felt very lucky to have been part of our activity tonight--we talked about books we liked and recommended to everyone else. i was skeptical of the response to the book exchange idea until everyone showed up and we had quite a lively discussion extolling the virtues and drawbacks of many books. what a fun group of girls, and how happy i was to discover that they all really enjoy reading and form strong opinions about what they read. i think that's a wonderful indication of coherent thought, which seems to be a dying art in the age of immediacy. it didn't hurt that there were several cakes to sample.

4. i wish i could stop comparing myself to others. it always results in my feeling like the lesser of two (or more) parties. i want to be able to see others as they are, and know with my whole self that whatever they are, they don't threaten my worth. i know this in my head, and in my heart, but often not at the same time, or in the moment when it would be most useful to my sense of security.

5. my two-year-old son keeps coughing. i hope he sleeps well tonight. he doesn't seem to be awakened by his coughing, which is a good sign, nor does his coughing sound like the barking of a seal, or have any other indications that would make me worry too much.

6. i have to figure out how to spend my time in a more rational manner than what i've been doing. it seems like there should be more to my day than one errand and reading the archives of a certain blog, no matter how entertaining it is, and no matter how kindred. especially when moving day looms in a shocking number of days.

7. it's okay to be who i am. fears of how others perceive me are boundless and worthless. of course i can improve, but that doesn't mean that my current self is not worth knowing or loving. i wonder why moving is bringing on these thoughts. or maybe they've been simmering for some time, and now are coming to a rapid boil. perhaps the thought of starting over in a new ward? fear of reverting to my awkward, teen-aged self instead of remaining my (sometimes) more confident, almost-thirty self? i do have something of a pizza face because of the little nudger inside me, and random fits of inexplicable anger, which would be support for the teenager coming out in other ways, like feeling like no one understands me and never will. either way, i can't be loopy from sleep deprivation on top of everything else.

so i'm going to bed now. thank you for listening. that is all.

item #1

this morning, before i could sit down on the toilet seat, i had to wipe it down so it would be free of urine.

in the new house, i will have a master bathroom from which i can ban small children who have trouble aiming. i realize that this is probably an unrealistic dream, since said small children follow me wherever i go, and quite enjoy squeezing the entire family into the smallest space possible, like on one step of the step stool. but right now i can't lock the door and not worry that if i do, i will have a puddle awaiting me when i get out of the shower, thus sacrificing any possibility of taking a shower without someone wandering into the bathroom to talk to me. so i will continue to conjure visions of toilet seats free of urine all the time, and showers uninterrupted, since i don't know what the reality will be until we actually move.

that is all.

beginnings

about a year ago, we moved to a little house for our "last year" here. then it became clear that we needed a bigger place. and that we should stay. so, we bought a house. we will take possession next week, and move a few days later. we will be far enough away from the life we've built in seven years that it will take more effort to see people we know than it does now, but not so far that we won't see anyone again. meanwhile, it will be a new neighborhood, new on-ramp, new school. sort of in between starting over and just shifting a little bit.

i can't decide if the new beginning part is what i'm dreading the most or if i'm still dealing with the decision to stay. i don't have to switch any doctors, and i will most likely still shop at the same grocery store. i have acquaintances in my new area, so i won't go in totally blind. and the house itself holds many charms.

maybe it's feeling like the end that began last july when andrea left is really the end. it was always bittersweet to think about buying a house (which also meant moving away) because she wouldn't be there to be excited about it with me. but she actually moved away from here, and i stayed. and now i'm feeling that loss again because she's not here. maybe i didn't properly grieve when she left because i felt like my life was still pending, and buying a house here feels more like an answer to the future questions i had. and so this is the future that i have to figure out without her here.

i should explain andrea. we met when i was 23. and you could say we grew up together. she lived downstairs from me. i started having kids, figuring out being a wife and mother, and she went through a divorce. my growth and hers triggered further development in each other as we supported one another. sometimes i felt like she probably didn't need me as much as i needed her, but i think that was mostly my insecurities talking. we still talk as much as we can even though she's in another time zone now, but it's certainly not the same as going down two floors to "get the mail" and hang out for an hour, letting our kids play and snack as we tackled the latest emotional distress. she was my other sister/other mom/therapist who always asked the right questions to get down to what the real issue was. so i think this move is feeling a little like getting married, in a way. i have been apart from her for a while, but now it feels more permanent somehow, like leaving home for the last time as a single woman.

so it will be a new start, and i know it will be a good thing. there is a lot to do, and a lot will change. but it's another ending too.