Moving Day

Well, here we are. The final night in our home together before we move.

This might come as a shock to some of you, as I haven’t blogged in so long, nor have I talked much about us house hunting or looking to move prior to the purchase and sale of our homes. The thing is: we weren’t looking to move. Not really.

Matt and I have been discussing Jack’s education since was born; and more intently over the past year (or more): if we would try homeschooling, where he would go to school if not, and how to go about choosing a school for him. While kindergarten is still a whole year away, I was quite sure homeschooling was off the table. Firstly, and perhaps most obviously, we don’t know where I will be health-wise by then. Secondly, even if I am healthy enough to rise to the challenge, our child is such an extrovert that to homeschool him as an only child (or an the only school-aged child for the next 5 years, at least) would require an enormous amount of effort on my part involving him in extra-curriculars, a homeschooling community, etc— just to keep up with his social-emotional needs. We have noticed him thrive in his preschool classroom over the past year, and feel confident that being in a large group is where he feels most at ease. So the next question became: where do we send him? To the nearest school? Or should there be more research weighing in on this important decision? We decided to do our research, until it did some of itself for us. The nearby school will be closing down to rebuild over the next few years, which means busing to the next closest school, and then changing schools once it is back up and running—with three times the population than it held before.  If we wanted Jack to be close to a school that wasn’t in our district, moving within the next year was something we needed to strongly consider. Still, there was no rush.

House-hunting has always been a hobby of ours (Matt’s, especially). We love our first home, but find it fun to see what is out there, how it compares, etc. This summer, despite feeling more ill than last, left me with the desire to get out more, and enjoy the outdoors with my family. This brought us to bike shopping. I haven’t owned a bike since my parents’ bought me one when I was ten, so we both thought it well overdue to see if I could find one that my body could tolerate for even a short period of time. I found a beautiful, vintage-style cruiser bike at a store in Sherwood Park. I was permitted to “test drive” the bikes, and was enamored with the beauty of the area that we were in. I was able to find a bike that I can ride for short trips at a time (10-20 minutes or so, depending on the day); and as we headed home with my new bike in the back of the truck, we came across a house for sale in the very area I loved so much! We called immediately and scheduled a showing for the next evening.

Well, that house didn’t turn out to be “the one,” but it did spur us on to looking at others, and meeting a lovely realtor to guide us along the way. We spent many summer evenings looking at houses, getting a feel for what we liked, and looking into the schools nearby. It was a lot of fun spending so much time out together as a family, doing something Matt and I have both always enjoyed. At one point, both unsure if we were really looking seriously, Matt questioned the idea of moving while I was still sick. Maybe it was the daunting workload that moving entails that I wouldn’t be able to fully participate in; or maybe he was waiting for me to get better before beginning our “fresh start”;  or perhaps he was just trying to get a feel for where I was at! Whatever the reason, I had an answer for him: “I don’t want to put our lives on hold until I’m better. If I am going to be lying in bed for an indefinite amount of time longer, I want to be lying in a different bedroom... one with more room, and an ensuite!” ;) In my heart I think I felt that I needed this change. Since starting my meds again I have felt like it was a one step forward, two steps back kind of deal; I knew I was making progress, but I couldn’t feel it (other than in really uncomfortable ways!) I have felt for SO long that my life has been on hold, and the image of me, lying in bed, static; nothing changing but for the blonde little boy that keeps reappearing in my doorway, a little older each time... it was the nudge I needed to know I was looking for real.

In a whirlwind of events, we came across a house that finally fit the bill. This meant suddenly having to prepare and list our house to sell in a matter of weeks, try to find a preschool mid-August that would accept our son so late in the running, and maintain our home so that we could show it at a moment’s notice. I have been pleasantly surprised by how involved I have gotten to be in all of this. Though pushing myself way beyond my abilities, (and crashing in a big way more than once), I have relished the rush of a hard day’s work, and the fatigue (one different from the constant state I am in) at the end of it. It has been exhilarating and exhausting.

I haven’t written in a long time; firstly from feeling as though I had nothing but the same old fight to talk about. No big mix-ups, no awesome progress, just fighting this in the only way my body knows how—by feeling very, very sick along the way. In my frustration, I left my blog sit for awhile. Then, in all of the busyness of house-hunting and getting ready, I was simply too busy (and tired!) to write an update. But tonight brought on too much nostalgia to sit quiet; and so, as I prepare to leave my very first home of my own; my first home with my husband (and as a wife); I look back on all of the beauty and trial this house has held: The moments that were so exhilarating, frightening, joyful, entertaining, frustrating, sad, and beautiful.

Starting life away from “home” with my new husband; figuring out what it meant to live with someone other than my family, and creating one of our own in each other. Training a puppy that would one day become ours; and years later, leave with a piece of our hearts. Hosting friends and family; cooking our first turkey together; celebrating holidays, birthdays, engagements, new babies, and Jack’s baptism; throwing parties and sharing meals. So much of this home was the people who brought and shared life with us. 

This was the place where I housed a child inside of myself; and brought him home less than 24 hours old, to the building that would house him for the next 5 years of his full and joyful life. Where I watched him as he grew, and learned: to roll, sit, scoot backwards, crawl, walk, and run. Where his babbles and giggles turned into stories and speeches, and his laughter fills the halls.

Our kitchen was a place of fear and flames, renovations and frustrations, which spanned the whole floor wide. It was the place where Jack would crawl as fast as he could towards our patient puppy, 

sights set on her bed, as she begrudgingly moved so he could sit— grinning and victorious! I made batch after batch of homemade baby food at these counters, and loved every minute of it.  It was also the place that I lost my vision shortly after calling in sick to work, and where my struggles with health began.

 

My bedroom: a place of love in the most pure of forms; sacrificial being at the top of the list. Where my new husband took care of me when I was too sick to sit up, putting on my socks when my feet were ice cold, and a makeshift bib for the meals he prepared for me that had to be eaten lying down in bed. This bed has known the love of a child who knew not why his mother can’t move or lift or play with him, but will explore the world through books for pages on end. Having “picnics” in bed, and making shadow puppets on the walls. Sharing cuddles, and more family prayers than there are days to hold each one. These walls have heard the frustrated tears of a mother and wife who wants nothing more than to take care of her family; and holds more medical devices than I ever knew I could become comfortable with.

This house—so full of memories, each one important in its own way, helping us to grow in love; and ultimately, I couldn’t have asked for more. I thank God that what makes this house a home are the memories, and that we can take our memories with us wherever we go; adding on, and making new ones. I look forward, with a tear in my eye, to this next chapter in our life. A chapter of healing and growth; drive and ambition. A place to love and be loved, and to share that with all who enter our door.

 

Your prayers would be greatly appreciated as we finish the last leg of the race; moving in and making this new house our home. As Jack starts a new school year, with new teachers and friends; and that this change would be a positive one for my health; that we would be moving forward in more ways than one.

Blessings and love,

Kate 

 

“O Lord, you are my God; I will exalt you; I will praise your name, for you have done wonderful things, plans formed of old, faithful and sure.”  

Isaiah 25:1

 

“Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace.”  

1 Peter 4:9-10