2 weeks to go

In two weeks, we will be in or heading to OH. PA will become past, the road becomes present, Nevada will be a destination that becomes a home.

Evan and I decided we’re going to book hotels and stuff on the road. I think times and miles will be unpredictable with three kids and us. Late is a way of life for a family of ADHD folks with weak executive functioning. In real people terms: “Clocks are decorations. Oops, I was supposed to be there an hour ago. Let me just do this dish for another hour.”

In another example of incredible executive functions, we were sitting there figuring out books for all of us on audible. Something wholesome like LotR or (my suggestion) interview with the vampire … (why was this shot down?) that we can all listen to on the road. I am under a week to tear this house down, and greater than the power of persistence is the power of procrastination. If I’m not under pressure, I’m not gonna stop, collaborate, or listen.

Over the next two weeks, we will have more semi-final goodbyes. None of us know where life takes any of us or when we will actually see someone again, but nothing brings a truth like that into focus until you hug people you’ve known for decades and wonder when you’ll share that hug again.

But time is funny, isn’t it? There are so many people that a decade could pass and catch up in a moment of an embrace. Conversations resume like a paused movie for a pee break. It feels like it’s been years to get to this day, and many more years still until I can type these words on my deck in my new backyard.

We were telling the kids in the car how hard we know this is. I said the next two weeks will be some of the most difficult in our lives. I think this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But, there’s going to be a point in the next few weeks. I don’t know when, and it will be different for all of us. There is going to be a minute where you see this was the best thing we’ve ever done.

As the only one in the car who has experience with giving birth, I can attest to blowing my entire face up, screaming in agony trying to evict the current resident of my uterus transmutes to more joy then words could ever capture in a second.

Sure, maybe I’d remember that pain everytime I walked, peed, or moved unexpectedly, but joy always comes quicker than pain. Decades of pain can get replaced with moments of joy. It’s not like a room stays dark after a light is flicked on. I guess that firsthand knowledge makes this easier for me than everyone else.

Our whole family is in labor right now. It’s one of those really long, slow ones where dilation is taking forever and we have just enough contractions to be miserable but not enough to head to the hospital and get this thing rolling. So, we go get some sushi and do shots with the chef… wait, no.

I am unsure if I’ve reached some threshold where I just have embodied anxiety so much that I am one with anxiety and it is a constant or if I’m actually just not stressed anymore hahaha. I’m not. There are so many things I “should” be, but I can’t. My stress has only made it harder. We had this out of the blue showing request. Long story. I refused to panic. I just straightened up and went to my friends house.

When we got more negative feedback, I got personal at first, then realized that’s a hell of a laundry list of expectations for someone who wants a 3 br house for his offer. Meh. I’m tired of giving so much power to crap I have no say in, and that’s predominantly the words, opinions, feelings, and expectations of others.

When we started this, Evan and I both had this mentality of just letting it go with the flow. That no amount of stress got us here. It wasn’t until we started being grateful and faithful life changed. I’m coming back to that and suddenly I see nothing but possible instead of problematic. It feels good.

We can breathe, love, and let go. We can think we can do more than that, but that’s really all we got. It’s amazing how much more energy you can have if you stop wasting so much on things you have no say in. I think. I have no idea.

In two weeks, we are on the road to a new home. In two weeks, we officially say goodbye to all the familiar and blow our comfort zone into the ether. I keep feeling like our little troupe is a bunch of badasses. I’m so grateful our family chose each other because I can’t imagine this journey with anyone else. My greatest teachers and loves. My best friends.