O-o-o-o-o-o-klahoma!

One of the things that kept me from blogging over the past couple years was that .... I was writing. Articles! For money! It has certainly been a satisfying endeavor that frankly for the most part had sucked the well of my writing waters dried. I simply had no energy for extra writing, and in a way it hurt. Most of my time in Oklahoma went unchronicled while I continued to live it. There are stories that may be told in the coming days. 

The story of us buying our first house, and the kindness we were shown by those who barely knew us when it came time to move. 

How difficult school drop-off time was for First Grader each and every day she was in Kindergarten and how bizarrely and unprecedentedly well she took to riding the bus in first grade. The fact that she is reading at a 4th grade reading level. 

How Kindergartner has made her very first best friend. In fact, when we told the kids that we were moving, Kindergartner’s very first reaction was, “I’m going to miss my best friend.” 

So, so much to say. It is my hope that I’ll have the drive, for now at least, to capture some of these moments, both past, present and future.

Rain, Rain Go Away

It’s been raining here. And then it rained. And then it rained again. Our yard is flooded, soccer has been cancelled several times, and the hems of my jeans seem to be permanently damp.

There is so much going on in the world right now. Unrest in Baltimore. Thousands dead in Nepal. It makes my problems seem so insignificant, but they loom so greatly on my mind. I know I have no reason to complain. I’m trying so hard to have faith that everything will work out the way it is meant to. 

It’s just hard. Faith is hard.

I thought it was supposed to be easy, like something that just sort of rained down on you. But choosing to let go of control of your life and place it into something much bigger than yourself is turning out to be a difficult thing for me to do.

I Volunteered To Help In The 2-Year-Old’s Room At Church. Brilliant.

A few weeks back we got a letter in the mail from our daughters' Sunday school asking for parent volunteers at church. And God help me, something moved my heart and I emailed the coordinator letting her know, “Yes, I’d love to volunteer!.”

I’m not a teacher. I rarely ever babysat. And I have only a bare-bones understanding of the Bible, not to mention all the stories I was supposed to learn, but somehow never got around to.

This was emphasized in my mind once a couple years back when I went out to coffee with some ladies I met in church not too long after moving to Oklahoma. They were planning a vacation Bible school class.

“So we’re doing the story about Jesus and the well,” one mom said. The others nodded in agreement. I nodded for the sake of nodding. Jesus and the what?

“I think we could maybe do blue jello in cups, like water in a well?”

Everyone agreed that was a good idea. I agreed because who doesn’t agree to Jello? J-E-L-L-O and B-I-B-L-E have the same number of letters, so I think I’m on to something here.

Back to the point. A couple weeks ago was my first time, along with one other adult, winging it in the 2-year-old’s room. There were eight kiddos there with us, and fortunately, it mostly went well. We sang songs. I read the story of Adam and Eve (gotta start with the basics, right?) We tried to play duck-duck-goose, but ultimately had to defer to follow the leader when the kids simply didn’t get the idea of duck-duck-goose (apparently that is 3-year-old room material.) One kid pooped his pants. No one cried.

So I guess things went ok. My next turn in the room is mother’s day weekend. Wish me luck.

Soccer, Or More Accurately, Football. Wait, What Country Am I In?

I am so proud of First grader playing soccer. Last year her team lost all but one game and she scored one goal all season. This year her team so far is 3 wins to 1 loss, and she has scored at least one if not more goals per game. Coming from someone who hated gym class and most organized sports and was always picked last, this makes me feel utterly relieved that she won’t have to go through the gym class hell that I went through. And now Kindergartener has assured me that come summertime she’ll be ready for soccer. I’m not sure why she picked that specific of a date, but hey, as long as she’s willing to try.

On another topic, my kids still watch Peppa Pig. Which means I still watch Peppa Pig. Which means I start thinking in a British accent. ‘Ello there gov’na! What’s all this noise about, then.

I feel like I’m slowly working my way towards more cohesive posts again. I don’t feel particularly witty or verbose, but it is such a relief to be writing and putting my thoughts out there, even if there is no one to hear. It’s like relearning to ride a bike. And everyone knows how good that turned out for me.

Wherever Is My Heart, I’ll Call Home

Well, that last post did the trick, and I’m guardedly optimistic about our upcoming move to Missouri. After all, Laura Ingalls Wilder eventually settled her family in Missouri and things turned out well for her, right? Right?

Actually, I am doing much better. Lots of talking with husband and a glass (or bottle) or two of wine seemed to help. 

Like A Rolling Stone

I think I need to blog again. I contemplated creating a whole new blog, but felt that for the sake of continuity I needed to revisit this old haunt. And it’s old. Toddler and Preschooler are now Kindergartener and First-Grader and the school year is almost over here in Oklahoma.

And we’re moving.

Again.

We must have been meant to be nomads. It’s the only explanation.

It’s hard for me to sort through how I feel about the move. For husband’s job, it’ll present new opportunities, albeit we won’t see an increase in pay. Unfortunately, his position as of right now is temporary, which is really really upsetting for me.

I am so so tired of moving. We bought a house in Oklahoma and now two-and-a-half years later we have to sell it. And although we made improvements, we haven’t built up enough equity, so to be honest we’ll be lucky to break even after selling it. Which means we get to start saving up a down payment for a house all over again.

Yippee.

As you can see, I’m not totally enthused by this move, but we don’t really have a choice. And I’m trying so so hard to see the positive in all of this, because I don’t want to bring husband down with my negativity, but honestly right now I’m just down.

I don’t want to move, and I don’t want to not move. I just want stability.

So here’s to hoping I post some more positive things on this blog in the days to come. Maybe, like it was once before, it will be a source of release and comfort. Or maybe I’ll just not post again for two years.

Time will tell.

What the hell have you been doing?

So what the hell happened the past year?

Husband and I struggled financially as we attempted to find jobs. Or a job. Any job that kept us afloat. It was bad. It made me panic to the point where I was completely frozen; afraid to move, afraid to breath, afraid to leave my home.

I got some medication, to use only when I needed it. I used it, without shame, because it worked. And having it work was better than the immobilizing fear that trapped me in my own mind, in my own home. I thought once we moved my need for it would disappear. To my surprise, I continue to use it. Turns out moving from Wisconsin to Oklahoma is a tough transition, even when it’s for all the right reasons.

Husband got a job. A real job with a salary and benefits and a retirement plan. 

I also got a job. I do some actual paid writing, writing for legal blogs. So I guess that law degree wasn’t a big mistake after all. To be frank, the writing is very part time and very from the home. It has allowed me to experience the best of my children, while still bringing in a little extra income several times a month. It has fulfilled a dream I’ve had since I was old enough to write. A dream that one day I’d be paid to write. It satiated my need to write for someone, anyone, even if only in my little corner of the blogging universe.  I’m not sure why that’s changed.

We moved across the country for Husband’s job. Moving itself was a bizarre and ridiculous experience for all involved. People felt my wrath. I didn’t know I could wrath until that move. 

My children, my two little loves. I don’t think I can describe them by their age anymore. I have one in preschool and the other in 4K. It’s two confusing. We’ll just call them FW and CW. I hope that’s enough to prevent confusion while still respecting their privacy. FW is older, and currently in 4K. CW is younger, and currently in preschool. FW can read, and it fills my heart with joy. My entire world changed when I learned I could read. I hope her’s does too. CW marches to the beat of a different drummer. I did too. It made me brave. I hope it does the same for her.

And I no longer feel sadness that my fertility seems to be at an end. I have a beautiful little family and it is more than enough.

Where’s the funny?

Well, I’m pretty sure half a sleeping pill is lodged in my throat. 

Why return now?

Who knows. Part of me simply wants to chronicle my life experience, so that when my children and their children are grown, they can look back on all this and hopefully feel a little better about themselves. I’m not sure that makes sense. Then again, since when have I made sense? Let’s not rock the boat on this one. I’m sure it will all turn out in the end. It usually does.

It usually does.