Every day, we trudge closer to normal. Closer to a condo that is no longer ours and a house of our own. Closer to regular routines. But, along the way… Well, there have been some abnormalities. Like yet another delay in the closing of our condo. We are assured that it will be this week; and we feel as if we have no choice but to believe it. For the most part, I do. But I think the email we receive saying the clear to close has been issued will feel surreal; I’m sure I will have to read it at least a dozen times (saying extra prayers that it is first thing tomorrow morning).
And then there is the really abnormal. The stuff you need to write about to try to process it but just can’t seem to find the words. And the stress of it all compounds until you think normal will never come. There will never be a time when your husband doesn’t ask, “So, do you think we’re ever going to close on this house?” In fact, he’s asked me twice while I’ve been typing. A time when, despite all the wonderful parts of being home, you wonder if it will stop feeling like a perpetual nightmare with regard to real estate and pre-school transitions? Because, yes, there was another issue there.
It’s been resolved and isn’t something I care to write about beyond for myself personally. But I still can’t help feel unsettled by it. And responsible for it. And just generally conflicted.
When you look at everything piece by piece, it seems manageable. Maybe even petty. But compounded? Almost insurmountable.
1. House in Boston was supposed to close over a month ago. It hasn’t. We feel like it never will.
2. We can’t close on our house here until the condo in Boston closes. See above.
3. Still living in parents’ basement. Which is wonderful because there is always someone to help with Robbie and share chores with. But, it’s hard to move home again.
4. I have no actual idea where anything I own is. Everything that we “needed” for two months is shoved in our basement bedroom and small storage closet. And then we find more things that we “need.” What I need is a house where I can put them, particularly the one we are waiting to buy with it’s ample closet space. See number 1 and 2 above.
5. Pre-school drama abounds. Surely we are past it all now. Teacher conference. Administration conference. No incident reports for two weeks. Close to potty trained. At least this one appears to be alleviating, despite a traumatic week for Justin and myself last week.
6. A former Crawford student died. Now, I did not know this child. But everyone around me did. And I felt hopeless to help. And greatly reminded of how precious life is.
It would definitely make for a riveting mini-series…