In the Saddle

how things change (subtitle: what’s going on).

I’m waiting to pump, so I have some time to think and write.

I’ve had a hard time lately…feeling the weight of this responsibility and the irreversible nature of my life right now—in every way.

We are having trouble finding a house that’s right for us. We were under contract for one until there was a mold issue discovered during inspection. It was enough to give us pause and think about the finances involved with not just cleaning the problem, but making it so that it doesn’t return. Alas, we do not have that kind of money. So we walked. It was a very hard decision, but a good one in the end.

Truthfully, though, I was getting cold feet about the house anyway. It was very suburban…in a posh area of the suburb we’re looking at…and I began to think, who the hell am I? Who are we? It just wasn’t where I pictured myself. But I thought, well it’s not just about me, it’s about my family and our future. But what good is that thinking if I wasn’t going to be happy? If I won’t be happy? And then I start thinking, what defines happiness? What would define MY happiness?

And then I get stuck. Because I don’t know. I don’t know where we belong and in what house and which neighborhood and all of it. I don’t know what choices are good and what compromises are really necessary. Haunting me also is the thought that I don’t know what our lives would have been like had we just allowed ourselves to just BE. Have our girl and just live. We threw so much on top of ourselves with this. Even though we would have been totally and completely miserable in the condo with our dumb ass neighbor (I never did reveal the full story of her, did I? Eh…another time) and all the craziness that ensued with our building. And yes, we would have been totally and completely miserable, so why is where we are such a bad thing? It’s not. And I know that. It’s just….a lot. And it’s not ours. It’s gracious and generous of Jonny’s parents to let us live here. But it’s not ours. And that’s freaking hard. And it makes doing this hard. But this was the choice we made. And it was a good one. Just….irreversible and heavy.

And I’m back around the circle of thought.

Anyway…I got the impetus for writing this post because as I leaned my arm across my face to grab my book off my nightstand, I smelled my daughter’s sweet scent on my skin. And I closed my eyes and breathed it in because it smelled so good. And I remembered why I do the things I do. Right now, anyway, it’s all for her.

I guess I’ll find me in there sometime.