San Antonio.

Hold on to me, as we go.

As we roll down this unfamiliar road.

And although this wave is stringing us along

Just know you're not alone

'Cause I'm gonna make this place your

Home.

--"Home"

Phillip Phillips

On a Tuesday morning, I pressed my nose to the glass cutout in our new front door.  Cars zoomed forward, then slowed as they braked for the speed bump, right in front of our house.  There was a lot of life moving around, just feet away from where I stood.  For me though, the life was foreign and felt very overwhelming.  I watched for a few minutes more, just like this.  Nose to glass, sighing every now and then.  Feeling the weight of it all.

We had rolled into San Antonio in the early evening the day before.  Ben, Caleb and Claire were ahead in the minivan while Leah, June and I followed in our white car.  It had been a long 3 day trip full of sad goodbyes, dead car batteries, washing laundry in a hotel until 2 am, and trading off sleeping sideways on a queen-sized bed next to two extremely rowdy little sleepers.  We had fun along the way though, mixed into the normal chaos.  Frozen yogurt stops, swimming, and dance parties to loud music in the car.  

I stared at the green trees lining the highway as we drove through our new city, trying hard to tell myself that one day this would all be familiar instead of new and somewhat intimidating.  As we turned onto our new street, kids playing soccer scattered out of the way of our caravan-ing cars.  This is good, I thought.  Lots of families.  

We parked in front of our new home, and I took a picture as the three oldest kids ran up the green front yard onto our porch.  Ben found the hidden key, and unlocked it.  I could hear the squeals and yells of excitement as they barreled through the entryway.  I picked up Claire from where she was waiting patiently in her car seat, handed her to Ben, and walked into our new home.  

We searched each room, noticing the size of them, the insides of the closets, the number of sinks.  It had a good feeling inside of it, with a lot of space and light.  We walked out on the back porch, and I smiled at all of the green facing us.  There were no homes behind ours, just masses of trees so thick you couldn't see through to the other side of them.  

Ben, Caleb and I unpacked our cars, and met neighbors who came outside to introduce themselves.  Our first family meal was Chick-Fil-A, eaten at 10 pm, while sitting on the floor.  Then we unrolled sleeping bags, brushed teeth, changed clothes, said a family prayer, and after finally winding down from the excitement, fell asleep. 

It has now been almost 3 weeks since the first morning we woke up in our new house, and I pressed my nose to the glass on a Tuesday.  

Some people look at a big move to a big city as a big adventure.  Ben is one of them.  I am not--but I'm trying.  I signed on to this move, with 100% support, knowing it would be difficult for my personality.  I am a lover of comfort zones, and for the past few years have felt such an intense need for setting down roots that the knowledge we are still several more years and a couple of more moves away from that makes me want to openly weep and then crawl into a hole.  And then take a big long nap.  (But that last part is irrelevant--naps always sound like a great idea, to me.)

The three weeks here have been nothing short of a little ridiculous.  The first week, Claire got a major fever, then June started up right behind her.  Soon every single one of our family was hit with some sort of a major flu bug, except for me.  June and Claire had it the worst, I have never seen June this sick.  Every night she would throw up from coughing, and her fever was 104 for 4 full days.  We had no insurance, no money, no belongings aside from one pillow and blanket for everyone, a few toys, some clothes, a couple of towels, a T.V. and a very small amount of kitchen supplies.  When June would throw up on what we had brought, we would do laundry in one of the bathroom tubs, and went without our own pillows and blankets.  

The second week, we discovered a mold problem in our master bathroom.  We're grateful they repaired it quickly, but this entire week was spent cooped up while waiting for them to finish.  Two days ago, we found a scorpion in Caleb's room.  After panicking a bit and trying to find creative ways to remove everything off of the floors we had been using as our dressers, we got a pest control company in here and bought traps.  Fingers crossed the scorpions are managed.

We are on week three now, still without our belongings.  Luckily, Ben is finally a legit member of the army, we have insurance, our friends lent us a card table, chairs, and a couple of games, June is back to her hilarious self, we were paid a portion of our move reimbursement, we are learning to live with less, and I have finally made peace with the laundromat and the homeless "regulars" who initially terrified me.  Not only that, but we've felt the love of our family and friends from far away.  They have checked in on us with phone calls, and texts, sent letters or packages...and those things have meant the absolute world to us.   

This life will take some getting used to, I know.  It will take a lot of pushing and stretching, again.  These are the parts that are uncomfortable, but bring the most growth--when I can look back at them. 

In the meantime, I'm trying to stay sane in this big, empty house that I can't feel settled into yet without our pictures and curtains and furniture.  I'm trying to get out and drive and find libraries and parks and fun things for our kids to do.  I'm trying to not let loneliness swallow me up, and walk outside to meet neighbors and make an effort.  

San Antonio is beautiful, and the people of Texas are friendly, and I'm trying.  

And it will take time.  

When men should have bangs--Confronting Anemia--and Naked Windows. (Or, a small and somewhat meaningless update.)

{the morning after we moved.}

I am supposed to be working, while watching one of the two shows I actually sit down for during the week.

No, this isn't true.  I'm supposed to be cutting Ben's hair, which he has been asking me to do for about two weeks now--but he fell asleep on the lower bunk where Leah and June sleep together (vertically, in their full-sized bunk bed) while trying to get June to "calm down and stop pretending to karate chop her Curious George blankie."  Those were my words, not his, that I said to June right before Ben switched me places and I came out to the family room to settle my swollen feet on the ottoman next to the couch to begin my nightly computer work.

However, he fell asleep, so I don't feel guilty that the haircut isn't happening for yet another night.  Besides, I really like his hair long, when it begins to curl.  This is something we've disagreed about for going on 12 years of marriage, and I will admit there have been times when I've avoided those haircuts as long as I possibly can so I can enjoy one more day looking at the dark curls that grow.  "Men should not have bangs!"  Has been his motto.  Sometimes I agree with this--but in his case, I do not.

Anyway, I sat down to work and instead began reading blogs and started wondering if there would be a time when my words would come back to me to write again....it has been a long, long time.  I miss this side of me.  So, I decided to just begin.

The months that have passed so quickly have provided our family with a lot of twists and turns.  Caleb turned 9, June turned 3, I turned 34, Ben turned 35, we went to Utah to visit family, Ben found a new job, we made it through another stifling Arizona summer, the older two kids began school, Ben passed his dissertation defense, and....we have unexpectedly moved (again).

I'm attempting to gain the attitude of expecting the unexpected with our lives, because that is the way it continues to go--thinking that the element of shock and stress and surprise will leave and I can roll with it better.  Or this is my hope.

I could tell I was in a funk when we had been in the house for 3 weeks and not one picture or curtain had been hung yet.  Not one!  This is unheard of, for me.  I worried I was depressed, honestly.  Or just avoiding the unpacking because I'm anticipating another move in our future and leaving everything ready to go at a moment's notice.  It turns out neither of these was true.

About 3 weeks ago, at the doctor's office for my glucose pregnancy blood test (so extremely un-fun), I was told I have a severe case of pregnancy-induced anemia.  How it was caused is unsure and something the midwife/doctor team is still puzzled about, referring me to a hematologist to double-check things next week.  In the mean time, I have been put on a high dose of iron and have been informed to take this matter seriously.

Week one and two of my iron dose seemed relatively the same, but last week--something clicked.  The iron pumping through my system started working and I began to feel human again.  I no longer had to come home from dropping the older two kids off at school and beg June to watch a movie so I could lay like a zombie on the couch or sleep until it was time to pick up Leah from half-day kindergarten.  I no longer lived on Tylenol or Excedrine (the one without aspirin) because of the constant and persistent headache I had been enduring for almost 4 months.  The room no longer spun each time I stood up.  I no longer had bouts of time (sometimes up to 20 minutes or more) where I struggled to breathe and my heart could not slow down.

And, I began hanging pictures on the walls.

I'm now answering phone calls, scheduling play dates, making dinner, and occasionally taking my kids to the park.  Every day no longer feels like I'm crawling my way through it, but actually getting up and walking through, with possibly a small spring in that step, even.  May not sound like a big deal for some, but unfortunately just existing day to day had become my story before the iron supplement.

Though I'm not grateful for the overly and intentionally sweetened glucose drink I had to consume that day in the doctor's office, I am grateful this anemia was discovered through that glucose test, and handled so I can come back to life just before this fourth baby enters our world.

Our new home is beginning to feel like us.  Curtains still need to be hung though.  Why do windows look so naked to me without them??  We will get there.

For now, I will settle with finally writing something, and getting to look at Ben's curly bangs one day longer than planned.

Also?  This is me, just after drinking that nasty sugary drink, before the iron supplement began, at 29 weeks along.  Anyone in the mood for a cupcake?

woah.

why didn't someone try to stop me from moving in the middle of arizona summer, right before a 3 week long vacation?  no one thought to bring me to my senses?  give me a good smack across the face and shake of the shoulder to get me to snap out of it?  this was a move of choice, remember.  not a mold-induced, career-induced or school-induced move.  i take responsibility for it, most of the time.  the rest of the time i blame the lack of common sense on two things:

1)  the heatstroke--it always sinks in on or around june 17.  this year was no exception.

2)  the desperation for space.  and, oh!  the space here is so nice. 

the space is what allows me to somehow find a way to move around open boxes and half-emptied tubs of our belongings without constantly banging my shins and elbows.  a piece of me questioned the move in the name of space--am i just getting greedy?  whining about first world problems? or am i actually just desperate, and possibly extremely intelligent?  desperate to park our van in our garage instead of using it as storage because there is no other space for storage...desperate to fit an actual dresser in a child's room instead of the plastic bins inside of a closet that last about 5 months before frustrated little hands break them while trying to remove a set of pj's...desperate to have my 4 year old back with her in her own room for her apnea-induced awake periods routinely every night between 3am-5am... 

the extremely intelligent part comes from only increasing our rent around $100 a month for this space.

so, i'm going to stick with those two reasons.

but. 

this is a lot.  we're leaving bright and early in the morning for our 12 + hour drive up to utah, and once we are on the road i will release a huge sigh and try to forget about the fact that my eyes twitch over the naked windows without curtains hung.  yes, i said naked.  those windows look so vulnerable and stark to me and the inner non-professional decorator just wants to grab the drill and go to town!  but so many other things are tugging me that for the first time in all of our moves, i have not hung up pictures and rearranged books first.  i have unpacked the boring before anything else--kitchen utensils and underwear, sheets and towels.  that last sentence was so boring it made me yawn while typing it.  i need color!  beauty!  a room that makes me want to hum a song just by walking into it!

but,

it's okay.  i'm getting a little purposely over-the-top even though deep down, it is really how i feel about the order of setting up a home.  i can't help it.

so,  i will try to forget about those un-hung curtains.  i will try to forget that my skin has broken out so badly that i look in the mirror and try to recall a time when i didn't have pimples--has there been a time?  possibly not.

i will try to forget that when we arrive back home it will be august, and in a few days caleb will start school, and we need to prepare for leah's tonsillectomy and ben's likely impending job quittage so he can get this dissertation DONE.

right now, as i finish packing suitcases among unpacked boxes, i will focus on the sound of the ocean--the fake one, coming from the white noise machine next to my side of the bed.  i will close my eyes as i roll up clothing into tight balls and stuff one shoe here and the other other there, filling up travel-size shampoo bottles and wrapping up computer cords, and i will hear that sound and focus on the fact that in just a little over one week, the sound of those crashing waves will be

real.

soul-cracking.

this week has been a tough one, in many different ways.  and though there has been beauty and God and love so thick i could almost taste it intricately woven in between the tough, i can very easily say i am drained.  hopeful, but drained.

this morning i found myself two hours before church sitting on the floor of june's room, crying into a pillow to muffle the sobs that came from somewhere deep down in the depths.  it was a mixture of overwhelming exhaustion, frustration, and extreme sadness.   i didn't know how to button up the emotion so i could continue functioning through my sunday morning, and even if i had known how, it would have been taking steps backward from where i have learned to push through.  express, don't repress.  isn't that how the saying goes?

so i sat there letting the tears slide down my face, praying as i cried into the dark teal of the pillow and the white canvas of the ikea chair.  please carry me, i said silently.  i know things could be harder, but right now, this feels like too much.  

my kids were in my bedroom that i had left minutes before, but i heard june's mama!  mom?  mo-ooooommmm! coming closer.  ben intervened before she made it to the door i was closed behind.  mom's sleeping, i heard him say.  she'll wake up in a minute, okay?  i heard june's soft okay,  and knew that ben knew where i was and what i was doing.  he was explaining something that june could understand, so she would give me space and time to recover.

i did recover, finally releasing all of the tears and unleashing all of the frustration until i felt ready to face the world again.  a hot shower relaxed sore muscles, and i worked on getting ready for church with my family.  the rest of the day i have felt like i have been carried, and peace has come into my overwhelmed heart.

there is so much i want to write, but i have to hold back because it was not my pain that produced the tears, it was another's whose suffering has been so acute.  it feels mean just typing that, because i can't really go into details about this week, only to say a few random things.

this:  abuse, in all of its many forms, is so ugly.  when it happens to a child the ugly is magnified and compounded, put upon innocence that is too young to be able to comprehend and fully heal from the dark, twisted, and truly evil of the world.  sometimes just the knowledge of the burden that is placed upon abused children can overwhelm my spirit to the point that it feels so heavy it aches.

this:  i bear my testimony, again, about therapy.  finding a good therapist is a gift straight from God, one who can be the vessel to crack the thick, sometimes bullet-proof shell that has been built for years to protect from the ugly and twisted.  when the shell is cracked, it can feel like the soul and spirit are going to crack right along with it.  but i promise, it does get better.

this:  i am so grateful for those who are willing to be vulnerable, to share their pain with the world  unselfishly and without the need for validation, but in the way that others can learn from it, and not feel so alone.  i listened to a beautiful girl speak into a microphone today, doing just this.  vulnerability takes courage and true humility.  she touched my heart as she cried and spoke Truth to those who were open to hear it.

this:  we are officially insane, because we are moving again.  only one street over, in the exact same model as the house that had mold in it, only my fingers and asthmatic lungs are crossed that this one is as mold-free as it looks.  july 1st is our move-in date, so this little therapeutic internet space may be neglected more so than it already is.  or maybe it will be my outlet, saving me from drowning amid boxes and packing tape?

this:  caleb is getting baptized this coming saturday morning.  i'm hoping i can get my act together  in between packing to make it a special day, because it feels so special to both ben and i.  we love our first and only boy so much, with his sweet heart and strong spirit.

this:  ben is one of the most amazing men i have ever known.  and i am not saying this because i am his wife, because others feel this way who are not his wife.  he continues to astound me and i thank God i was somehow chosen to have the privilege of knowing intimately just how incredible he is, walking through life to watch his courage and unselfishness continue with all he is carrying.

this:  music heals me in the same way the written word does.  much more so than chocolate ever has.

this:  we are surrounded by good people.  i have not been feeling well this week, and had friends reach out to let me know they cared.  ben's uncle pat passed away yesterday, and we were stranded without a baby-sitter while i was in phoenix and ben was trying to be with his aunt and lend his support.  after some phone calls and texts, friends and ward members rallied around to help where we needed it.  our kids were happy and fed and sad for us to pick them up.  living away from family is so hard during times like this, unless you can find yourself living among others who are examples of selflessness and kindness.  we are so grateful.

in the family room....

here are some pictures of our family room on the main floor.

{notice the wipes container ready to fall out of the basket in 2 seconds?  fabulous.  
planning on adding some mismatched orange, yellow, green & brown 
pillows to the couch when the budget allows for it.}

it's a big great room with the kitchen on the other side.

bright, simple, open.

just how i like it.

in leah's room

aside from a couple of things that i want to add, here are some pictures of leah's room so far.

it's kind of a work in progress, like most of the rooms, 

but i think it turned out nice.

i became more focused on getting things out of boxes and put away than getting my craft on 
{and obviously ironing her curtains},

but i do have a couple of ideas when things slow down around here.

most of all i love to watch her play in it.

oh my goodness sometimes i feel like my heart is going to burst open

with how much i love this little girl.

 

did i mention she's officially 18 mos?  

guess i'm going to have to do the update on what she's doing now.

***adorable "leah" blanket made by her amazing aunt allison.  i keep telling her she should sell them, each one she makes is so cute & individual & so soft.  thanks again, al!  even though you were okay with it, i told you that i wouldn't allow her to poop or barf on it.  :)


***thank you for your comments about caleb's MRI. some of the results have come back and luckily he is out of the woods for surgery.  as far as a diagnosis, it looks as though there is one now.  i'll write more about it as soon as i wrap my head around it.