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one week down, a bajilliondy to go.

Well, it's been one week since we left Cedar Falls, and it's been intense.  A lot has been going on - getting stranded on the side of the road for five hours, unloading the truck, unpacking boxes, lots of trips to the store for rando stuff for the house, and beginning the long, arduous process of painting erry last wall and ceiling in this place.  And emotions have been running high for many of us.

I've had a few meltdowns this week for various reasons, first and foremost being the fact that so much of our stuff was broken, dinged or damaged in the move.  We don't have super expensive stuff to begin with - 90% of everything I own came from Target or Ikea - so it isn't expected to hold up indefinitely.  But seriously.  It may not be fancy, but it's ours, and it's been really discouraging to see the condition so much of it is in now.

The second largest cause for major meltdowns on my part is the utter lack of storage space in this house, and the absolutely asinine configuration of the few existing storage cubbies.  The cabinets are so cheap and small and stupid, and the closet shelving is completely inefficient.  Luckily, the pure despair that overtook me when trying in vain to organize the bathroom cupboards was lovingly remedied by my husband's willingness to take me to Bed Bath and Beyond and spend more money on mesh metal drawers than makes sense to a normal person.  I'll have to post pictures someday of how organized all our unused toilet paper and tampons are looking.  Woohoo.

And the third largest cause for my psychotic emotional swings has been Missouri Insect Life.  There was a tick just crawling around our car's cupholder.  I found a slug on my leg.  I witnessed a worm-with-a-million-legs trying to eat a fly that was simultaneously trying to eat the worm.  And I found this on my laundry room floor:



(Not my photo, but a dead-ringer for our resident monster-bug.)


Yeah.  If you imagine me screaming for Todd and then clutching my chest and imagining I was having shooting pains in my left arm, you're not far off.  But folks here in Missouri are all just, "Hoho, that's just a lil cave cricket.  NBD.  A-Hoho."  And I'm all, I DID NOT SIGN ON TO LIVE IN THE JUNGLE TAKE ME HOME.

Penelope has also been having a hard time with the transition, but her grief makes more sense than my apparent problems:  She misses her friend Izee.  She misses her house.  She misses her church.  She spends much of the day crying, or fighting with everyone, or wanting time to sit alone by herself in any available empty room.  She is grieving.  It's so hard to mama her through this.  Goodhard, but hard.

I asked Atticus today how he's feeling about the move, and he shrugged.  I asked him if he was feeling sad, or excited, and he replied, "A little bit of both."  I asked him if he wanted to talk about anything and he said no and went back to whatever he had been doing.  I don't know if that makes my mama-job easier or harder with him, if you know what I mean.

And that's an update on our fragile emotional state, if you were wondering how we're doing.

2 comments :

YAYA said...

That's how Atticus was as our house. Didn't say much and then started randomly crying at the dinner table. He sort of wanted to talk about it and sort of didn't. He internalizes his feelings, Keep in touch with him. It's easy to pass over "quiet" grief.

todd said...

being called by God to do hard things does not make them less hard. the costs are not less costly because God is the One asking you to pay them. it does, however, make them completely worth it.