Monday, June 4, 2012

May Days

This is what my May looked like.  It was seriously killing me.  The best part of June is that it means May is over again for another entire year. 

But we certainly did have some happenings in that crazy month that are worth documenting.
B decided to creat her very own way of getting dressed . . . in her big sister's clothes.
J was sitting on a kitchen chair one Sunday morning.  Then he fell off and bumped his tooth which promptly fell out.  And he only had to wait about three days for the tooth fairy to visit him.  He wrote a note asking for a half dollar instead of two quarters.  She did not deliver.  And now J is convinced that she doesn't exist.  Ah, well.  Had to happen sometime, right?  (Trying to appease my guilt, here.)
R had a great field trip to the zoo.  Where she found a new best friend--her trusty map.  I think she had more fun looking at it than the actual animals.
And this is how she rides around in the van.  She likes to be ready for anything.
This is what B does instead of getting into her carseat like she should.  She's not very big on doing what she should.
She does, however, seem to have taken a liking to reptiles.  Toy ones as well as real ones.  She is delighted by our crested geckos.  Which is sort of a shame since we have decided to make our big move as a lizard-free family.
We had LOTS of open houses and other school functions to go to.  J really enjoyed taking me around on a little scavenger hunt of sorts in his classroom.
These two little girls have become a dynamic adventurous duo.  This is what they look like when they're ready to go fishing.
And here we have obedience training.  The one in the middle needs the most work of all.  She currently has a failing grade in the course.  But we haven't given up on her yet.  Though she is creating an immense amount of additional stress for me. 

Selling a house, I have concluded, is like a nightmare. 

Suddenly home doesn't feel like home anymore.  Because I have to keep it spotless all the time.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy having a clean house.  But HAVING to keep it that way continually is horrible.  It gets in the way of life, of family, of everything.  And having it so clean all the time requires massive amounts of energy and nagging.  And it just doesn't feel natural which contributes to the feeling that this is no longer our home.  We have to be ready at the drop of a hat to vacate (load 5 kids and two big german shepherds in the van) so that potential buyers can peruse the house without intrusive child-like questions or ferocious barking.  It is wearing me so thin that I am having trouble keeping my emotions in check.

We had a beautiful above-asking-price offer after the first day of showings.  But then the relocation company got involved and had to schedule a slew of inspections and appraisals and approvals before the offer could be accepted.  And then it fell through.  And here we are back to square one with nothing within our control except cleaning the house and then leaving it so buyers can look around.

And somehow, in the middle of all of this I am supposed to find the time to research schools and housing and medical insurance and possible tourist stops on our 3000 mile road trip.  I am beyond overwhelmed.  There is just too much riding on these decisions.

And my littlest whirlwind is doing her utmost to make all of this as hard as possible.
I try to keep her from climbing as I am swirling around putting away our family messes.  I am failing miserably as you can so plainly see.
In the course of two days, she broke a glass jar, a glass cup, and a ceramic flower pot.  I have been forced to confiscate all writing implements because she loves to draw on the walls.  Something she learned from her big sister, R, who went through a tagging phase a little while back.  R seemed genuinely surprised that I always knew that she was the one who had created the newest graffiti in our home.  But when she unfailingly signs her name, it's sort of a dead give away. 
Show ready condition, right?  Sure.  And I had just washed this window a couple of days before this photo presented itself.

I know that ten or even five years from now, this photo will mean more to me than a spotless home.  And I want to stop worrying about the condition of the house.  I want to enjoy my children and bask in their excitment at the prospect of summer.  I want to laugh at B's shenanigans without getting upset at a toddler for being a toddler.  I want to revel in the new adventures on our horizon.

But when the weight of the thousands of decisions reagarding this move and the weight of keeping the house ready to show and the weight of mothering five children falls upon me simultaneously, the burden is simply too heavy and I find myself wanting to just go curl up in a corner.  It is guaranteed that I will fall short in any and all of these areas. 

But still, I know that these experiences have lessons to teach me.  I know that as I just keep swimming I will find the strength to make it through.  The things that aren't essential to this next step in our family's journey will be set aside.  I believe that somehow, someway, sometime all the pieces will fall into place even when I am blind to that process. 

Because in years past during some of my other make or break tough times, I learned the one lesson that is allowing me hold tight to the single thread in my grasp.  I am not in control.  I don't have to bear the weight of this all by myself. 

The greatest spiritual strength has come into my life during the times when I let go and let God take over.  It's one of those things that sounds so easy to do, but requires continuous effort to choose it again and again, day after day.  Feeling discouraged is easy.  Which is why I find myself struggling with it so much during times like this.  It's finding, and continually choosing faith, that is hard. 

So I probably just need to take a deep breath and remember the things I believe to be true.  I believe that this transfer is a direct answer to our prayers.  I believe that God watches out for us in ways that we cannot begin to understand.  I believe that if I follow the inspiration sent my way, everything will turn out alright in the end. 

I will rejoice in the fact that May is finally over.  And I will try to let these beliefs guide me as I struggle to maintain my sanity and wait for the sun to rise so my nightmare can come to an end.  I'm really, really hoping dawn isn't so very far away . . .

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