Second Guesses

So many times growing up, the big changes happened whether you wanted them to or not. Your family moved and you had no say in the decision. It was happening. It was easy to adapt even if you missed your friends, your life, your bedroom with the blue walls.

As an adult, you have to make the big decisions and live with the result of that decision. You have guilt, doubt and second guessing. Something along the way pops up that you don't really appreciate and the grass seems a lot greener when you picture it as it was. The other night, we found out that one of our neighbors owns the home that is keg-party central at Central. I sat up in my office and listened to the boom-boom-boom along with the large crowd chatter drifting softly through the chill of the night air. It was dulled by the distance, an overtone to the silence we have grown to appreciate and enjoy. I wondered if this was better or worse than the neighbor's truck outside my former bedroom window at 5AM slowly winding up as it started spewing exhaust through our open window. In all honesty, the kegger was the quieter of the two, but I was missing the truck that was never more than 10 feet from my head that evening. I was missing what listening to that loud truck meant.

I ache for my kids who just miss their friends. Every time they ask to see Peyton or Brenna, I have to answer to their disappointed faces. Big N will beg me to continue driving to Mari's instead of taking him to preschool in the morning. It has been 4 months and I am the woman keeping him away from his friends, the friends he misses more than his little 4 year old vocabulary is able to explain.

I know we made the right decision for our family. I have spent more time with the kids during their waking hours in the past 4 months than the entire previous year. Big N has already told me he likes that I am upstairs during the day. My husband has spent more time with the kids, too. However, I miss Seattle. I miss being able to go to the zoo on a rainy Saturday without much planning because you know its just drizzle and if it gets bad, you can go again next Saturday. I never realized how much I appreciated being able to go shopping after 5PM on a weeknight. I really, really miss the self-service center at the post office on 145th.

It's nice here, the people are wonderful, but its not home, yet. I'm sure it will be at some point, but it's coming a lot slower than I would like.


Kids playing in a moving box on the patio that Pete built.