Being around family is always such a mixed bag of emotions for me. I’m lucky enough that Adam’s family and mine have meshed together seamlessly, everyone gets along and holidays at each of our respective in-laws is always something we look forward to. But that means that leaving is always incredibly hard.
Getting home after spending three or four days ensconced within the cozy world of his parents and his sister’s family was such a let down. Our house feels too small- at once too empty and too cramped. It’s too quiet, I miss the conversation, the boisterous energy of our niece and nephews.
We’ve had one foot out the door of this town for what feels like forever and now that Olive is on the scene that urge has been strengthened tenfold. Time passes so quickly when you have a child – two weeks can mean the difference between smiling and not, crawling and walking, the first word or a stream of sentences.
I don’t want our family to miss that. And, selfishly, I am desperate for a change. I loathe our house right now. I always do, in winter. Everything iswet.I’m inside a lot, our front door opens directly into our living room and everything feels damp and dirty from Gus traipsing in and out all day, no matter how much I sweep and mop.
The rooms seem dark, there isn’t enough space. As I nurse Olive I compulsively lurk on real estate sites, sussing out potential new homes. I flip through pictures of empty rooms and imagine our life unfolding there. I mentally assign one room to Olive, one to us, one as a writing room – stark white and empty except for a computer on a desk made from a reclaimed door.
I look for fenced yards and fireplaces, wide expanses of space, a dining room where we could host dinners, cram a table full of family. Most of all I’m ready to be settled somewhere, ready to plant my flag and declare a space MINE.
This urge strikes me like clockwork at this time of year. I feel like throwing out all of our possessions and starting fresh- everything seems dingy and mismatched and I pace from room to room (now with a baby in my arms) and I feel caged and stifled.
Adam has started looking for work – not an easy feat as jobs seem scarce every where, and I can only hope that the planets align and a job materializes with the perfect blend of challenge and security, and that house emerges with the perfect mix of modernity and character, and then I can turn this restless, pacing energy into packing. Purging. Moving on.
Come on universe- we’re ready.