Vascillation

We got moved into our new home this weekend. I know we downsized when we moved to Texas by the fact that we have everything out of the condo and on the floor in our new house before 1pm on Saturday AMAZES me. We spent most of that day and yesterday baby-proofing the house. Between Jack pulling out all the outlet covers and Will opening and running out the front door, we definitely knew how to prioritize our time!



There is still SO much to do, but most of what's left will be fun stuff - picking out rugs, painting the bonus room, buying furniture, etc.



The joys (ha, ha) of homeownership appeared on day 1 - wasps in the backyard that needing ridding, loose screws on the playset that need screwed in, leaves that need cleaned out of the beds, light bulbs that need replaced, outlet covers that fall off and need longer screws. That makes the house sound like its in disrepair, but its not. Really, its GORGEOUS.

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It's so gorgeous that its hard for me to believe that I live there. I'm having a hard time articulating this feeling I have. My husband and I come from meager homes. My parents were factory workers. His worked for the school district. I knew we were living below our means before, but this home is nicer than any other in our family, any home we've every lived in. We've got these two beautiful, funny, and healthy boys. My cancer is gone. We have great jobs. And it just all seems too perfect. I'm starting to have anxiety that something is going to go wrong. Car wreck. Burglar. Getting fired. Broken arm. Anything.

On the other hand, I also feel like all my hard work has paid off. I have a liberal arts degree. I was fully prepared to be a social worker or ask people if they wanted fries with that. I started out in a non-profit and earned a commensurate salary. And I started out as a freakin' secretary with the company where I work today. But it seems like all of my years of hard work have paid off. My master's degree. My moving all over the midwest. Late nights. Personal sacrifice. Relationship building. All of it. It really feels like I've made it.

So, I vascillate between feeling like I'm living in a dream, like I'm Cinderella at the ball and any minute now the clock will strike midnight - and trying to become okay with being successful. And even as I write that, it sounds smug.

I think I have issues with money where I'm more comfortable scrambling for cash and living month to month than I am with this identity of being stable, and even more than stable, having money. Not that its a lot. It really isn't. Its just more than I've ever had. And it feels weird. Like I don't deserve it. Like its not really me. Like someone's going to come along and say, oh no, not you, we didn't mean this for you. We made a mistake. This is someone else's life.

Maybe I need therapy.

T Minus Five and I'm Definitely Counting

T Minus Five more nights in the condo. In the 865 sq ft home we have enjoyed for the past 360 days. SO ready to have some space. And the additional daylight in the evenings thanks to daylight savings time has made me DESPERATE for my boys to have a yard. I'm also looking forward to have SPACE for me to have some alone time without feeling like I'm hiding in the bedroom from DH. And to walk on my treadmill. And to have friends over for dinner. And for the boys to have their own playroom. Dream.House. Can't.Wait.

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I wonder if I should start parting my hair in the middle like Kim Kardashian.

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Took Jack to the pediatrician last week for an ear infection: Doctor's Visit: $75, Prescription: $24

DH took Will to the minor med center tonight, same diagnosis: Visit: $20, Prescription, $80.

WTF?!

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I'm also considering getting a Brazillian Blowout, but its $250. And that seems oppulent. But as overweight as I am now, I think it would be nice if at least my hair could be skinny.

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Reason # 1,000,001 why I'm excited to move .... THIS happened at "MY" Walmart this past weekend. I know that no place is purely safe, but I'm definitely ready to move to the burbs and out of the United Nations. I went to this place in daylight, and darkness. With my children. And alone. And I N.E.V.E.R. felt safe. The people there eyeball you. They invade your personal space. They ask for money in the parking lot. And they're probably all normal, God-fearing peopel who would never hurt you. But there have probably been 100 people mugged there in the past year and it took this event for me to find out about it. Seriously. I was there on Sunday. there was no chalk on the parking lot. No police tape. No sign that a customer had been KILLED by the acts of another customer less than 48 hours prior. SO.READY.TO.MOVE. I'm such a sell out. and I'm okay with it.