Getting Back

I've spent most of the last year convincing myself that I've been too busy to write, too busy to do anything other than just hunker down and survive the overwhelming day to day. Part of that feeling is because blogging isn't just writing- there is a whole social component that goes along with it. And I'm not sure I'm ready to jump into that.

What I do know is that I must start writing again. No necessarily to be read, to be shared, to be commented on, but just to start creating again. Getting back to having something tangible come from my thoughts. Along that same line, I'm hoping to start painting and editing photos again. I've been stifling my creative side for the sake of to-do lists, and it's been unhealthy.

This last year has brought a lot of change. Sometimes, I look at myself and think that the me of even just two years ago would be surprised.

I've started running in earnest. I've run two half marathons this year. I've started trail running. I've gotten over the anxiety of being slow and feel like I can actually call myself a runner.

I've fallen in love with home gardening. My gardening technique is "plant and pray," because I had no real plan or understanding of gardening. Fortunately, my unjustifiable optimism in the spring translated to bountiful harvests nearly all summer.

As a family, we've continued to road trip, to deserts and forests and bright blue lakes.

Bug is nearly as tall as I am.

I would love to say that as a family, we are settling in well with all the changes the last year and a half as brought. But that wouldn't be true. We're struggling getting a social network set up. My boys are struggling making friends. We still feel overwhelmed by the size and scope of being in a bigger city.

So we keep to what works for us, what makes us feel grounded. Dinner times as a family. Long walks in nature.

And for me, getting back to writing.

Everything Has a Season

Things have been quiet here around my blog.

Everything has a season, and it's not blog season in my life.

It has been a season for celebrating Monkey turning 9...

And Hubster turning 40...

And for 80s parties...

And for Color Runs...

And lantern festivals...

And friends visiting...

And long autumn runs...

And hikes way up into the mountains...

And for building tree houses...

And for adopting a new kitten...

And for making Doctor Who Halloween costumes...

And for making big career choices and painting bedrooms and reading anesthesiology journals and rocking Duck to bed and getting not enough sleep and being behind on laundry and visits with family and game nights and menu planning and long parent teacher conferences and middle school science projects.

I'm still working on that elusive work-life-family-exercise balance that I'm more and more convinced doesn't exist. I've been pulled in more and more directions than every before. How did I ever have time to just sit and write before?

I may find small quiet moments (like I did today) to share a few moments. But mostly, I'm taking a break from one more thing on my to-do list. Because all the story times and evening workouts and over night shifts and crock pot meal preps and just being there for my children is what is important right now. It is the season for just being there. It's the season for being present.

Playing Catch Up, Yet Again

Blogging is so much like exercise. It's so easy to find excuses to not do it. I'm too tired, my to-do list is too long, I'm too stressed, I just don't feel like it, I'll do it tomorrow. What I have to do is just actually do it. And just like exercising, it feels so great once I make the time and get it done.

I'm now writing from Utah.

For the time being, I'm just going to provide a brief overview of the last month or so, mostly to let myself process how much has actually happened.

The first week of June, Hubster graduated from dental school. Then, all our belongings were packed up, and we made the trek across half the country from Iowa to Utah, leaving behind our first home.

The getting to Utah will be a series of posts (to hopefully follow very very soon), as we decided to combine moving and summer vacation. We turned our move into a 10 day road trip, which (just like last year's road trip) was awesome.

Getting into our new home was it's own adventure, full of difficult negotiations and nail biting and more paperwork than I ever thought possible. But after several bottles of Tums, just a handful of meltdowns, and several hundred phone calls, we are settling into what we hope will be our forever home.

We still have quite a few boxes to empty (some that I'm tempted to just toss without even opening, because there is just so much stuff and I'm so tired of opening boxes and finding places for things.) We haven't done any decorating or styling, as we are still trying to figure out where everything should go in the kitchen.

Hubster and I have both started our new jobs. It's been an adjustment, since I was so settled in my last job. Learning new things and new schedules and new people is challenging. But at the same time, it feels great to be learning and pushing myself again, as I realized how mentally complacent I was becoming.

We are starting the search for child care for our boys. After throwing around ideas of au pairs, and summer camps, and everything in between, we are searching for a nanny (even though Bug insists that he does not need a nanny - apparently forgetting that he has younger siblings who do.)

We are exploring our new neighborhood and slowly adjusting back to the Utah culture. Even though we lived here in the past, after being gone for so many years, there was still a little culture shock on moving back. We apparently had become quite the country bumpkins in our small Iowa town, because the traffic, people, air quality, amount of stores, and time spent commuting have been difficult to adjust to.

But thankfully, there are the mountains right in our back yard, and those are just as amazing as they have ever been.

It's been a crazy month, full of stress and change and newness. I'm ready to settle back into a schedule, do some more hikes, make some new friends, and share a few more stories right here.

I Might Be a Hoarder

I blame it on my mother.

(Sorry, Mom!)

My mother almost never threw anything away. Socks with holes were mended. Broken dishes were glued. Ripped books were taped. Bits of wire, ribbon ends, random buttons, wood scraps, and countless other things were all saved. 

Waste not, want not.

My mother was raised to be extremely frugal, to save, reuse, and repurpose as much as possible. This is wonderful in so many ways. But it also made it so that growing up, we had a ridiculous amount of stuff, because nothing was disposed of.

In preparing for our move, I may have not had to confront these same tendencies in myself.

Hubster and I spent the weekend packing up things in our basement. We sorted things into three categories.

There was the "definitely keeping" category, containing items that we know we will use again and are willing to pay to have moved across the country.

There was the "yard sale/donate" category, full of items that were perfectly good, but we didn't need anymore.

Last, there was the "trash" category, which should have been obvious.

Putting things in the keep pile was easy for me. Yes, I need my full frame back packing gear! Yes, I need to keep these winter boots! Yes, I need to keep all these books!

When it came time to put things in the other piles, it was a little bit harder...Fine! It was really hard.  And also embarrassing.

I realized that I hoard boxes. Piles and piles of boxes. Old shoe boxes, empty Amazon boxes, small little gift boxes. You never know when you'll need a box to ship something cross country or to wrap a Christmas present in.

All the boxes that couldn't be used to pack things into for the move went in the trash pile (actually, the recycle pile, because that's the right thing to do.)

I realize that I hoard glass bottles. Several boxes of empty glass bottles and jars. Old jam jars, sauce jars, pickle jars, all thoroughly washed and labels removed with their lids attached. I blame Pinterest for making me thing I was going to upcycle all these jars into darling storage solutions for Q-tips and  and crayons. 

All the jars also went to recycling.

Apparently, I also hoard bags. Several boxes of bags. The boys' old school back packs, work bags with hospital logos on them, diaper bags. I have no justification for this one. I can't think of a single reason I thought we might eventually need 30 plus old bags.

Most were still just fine and were cleaned in preparation for a yard sale. The others with broken zipper and ripped straps and shredded pockets were tossed.

Each time we found a box of more items that I had been hoarding away, I became more and more embarrassed. It was painful, sorting through all those things, trying to go back through the justifications I had to store them in the first place.

It was also very cathartic. Seeing our basement empty, letting go of so much stuff that we didn't need (or even want), was extremely rewarding. Almost freeing in a way.

My goal is that when we move into our next home, the only things we bring into the house are things we actually use. I don't need things sitting away in storage for the possibility of using them someday.

I might still be a hoarder, but I'm going to try to be a hoarder of good memories and clean rooms, instead of boxes and jars and bags.

Let Me Explain...

...No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

(To quote one of the best movies there is.)

Sometimes, I feel like my blog is a childhood friend. The kind that you used to talk to every day and share every little detail with. Then life happens, and you get busy, and suddenly, you realize it's been forever since you've talked.

Once I'm in that situation, I start feeling awkward.If I call, will I just bother them? Are they mad that it's been so long? Are we still even friends?

Each time, once I've finally made contact again, I realize it's not awkward, it's not terrible. So, despite becoming that flaky and undependable person, I'm reestablishing contact.

Things are like they always are. Chaotic.  Can't things just settle down and be boring? Boring would be lovely.

Here's a summary of how things are going...

Our home has an accepted offer. The inspection and appraisal and all other things are done (to the best of my knowledge.) We close in about a month and a half.

We've made an offer on a home in Utah. After much nail biting negotiating, that offer has been accepted. We are still biting our nails as we wait for our financing to go through.

We are planning another epic summer road trip. Since we have to move all of us from Iowa to Utah, we decided that we would combine summer vacation with the driving.

I'm spending my days getting quotes from movers, figuring out the best way to get our cats to Utah, and sending dozens of emails to mortgage lenders, real estate agents, and all the other ancillary services that go along with this.

Monkey has been struggling in school. We actually got a letter sent home. We are meeting with his teacher and trying to figure out the best way to proceed.

I've almost got my Utah state medical licensing done so it looks like I actually will have a job after we move.

I'm making lists of everything that we will need to do when we move. Pack. Change utilities. Change banks. Change address on a bazillion different things.

I spent the weekend "helping" Monkey construct a rocket for Scouts. Helping is what I've starting calling my constant nagging and scolding.

I had to come up with an academic project for my first year at my new job. I've come up with an idea and the project has been approved.

Hubster and I watched 4 seasons of Game of Thrones in one month.

I've had three dentist appointments in 5 weeks. Boo. Except one of those appointments is for bleaching, so I can have pretty pearly white teeth.

I turned another 30-something age a few weeks ago.

Duck accidentally got fed a gluten-filled muffin and had days of misery in which pretty much no one slept.

Spring arrived.

I continue to work. Hubster continues to go to school. We continue to do laundry, make meals, supervise homework, go for walks, survive bedtimes.

I think the stress that accompanies change is getting to me. I'm not super fun to be around and I cry at random things. Today, I cried at a picture on Facebook of Kathrine Switzer, the first female in the Boston Marathon. Last night, I dissolved into tears while singing "Return to Pooh Corner" to Duck at bedtime.

Things are actually falling into place. I know they won't be chaotic forever. I may even find time to write a real post.

But for now, it was nice to just catch up.

Dear Buyers

When our home went on the market, it was our first time going through the whole process of selling a home. From picking a real estate agent, to getting the house staged, to keeping it ridiculously clean, every step was new and stressful.

In fact, even Bug, who is adamantly against the move, said he hoped our house would sell fast. He said he didn't like having to keep things that clean, and besides, he hated all the art the house was staged with.

We had been mentally prepped before hand about the stress. That we would no longer be living in our house the way we normally lived in it, but we would be selling it.

What we didn't expect was for things to happen so fast. We listed on a Monday at 4 pm. That same evening, we had two showings. By 10 am on Tuesday, we had scheduled 6 more. At noon, an offer came in for above asking, and by 1 pm, we had accepted the offer. Our house was on the market for 21 hours.

Our agent had suggested that we right a letter to any potential buyers, about what we loved about the house and why we were moving, so that no one would think we were moving because there was something wrong with the house.

I wrote a letter about all the improvements that had been done to the house, about the great schools and neighborhood, about the large yard and how much we enjoyed the fireplace.  But I felt that I had to hold back a little about how much I really loved our home, because when I started writing about how I actually felt about the house, it started sounding like I was trying to sell it too hard.

So, here is the letter I would like to write, how I really feel about the home we are going to be leaving.

_________________________________________________

Dear Home Buyers,

At first glance, this house may seem like any other small neighborhood house from the 70s. And while it definitely has its quirks due to strange building codes back then, I assure you, this home is anything but typical.

You will be hard pressed to find a home that has been as loved and as lived in as this one.  And as far as all those quirks, we've made sure everything about the house is perfectly safe. But there a few stairs that squeak every time we try to sneak downstairs when the children are sleeping. And getting to the laundry by going through the garage is definitely not ideal, but after years of going to a laundry mat with children in tow, I couldn't have cared less.

This house was our first home as a family, the first time we didn't have to worry about sharing walls, floors, and ceilings with other people, the first time our children could just be children. We lived fully in each room, from family game night at the kitchen table, to story time in front of the fireplace, to pillow fights in the bedrooms.

When we first bought the house, most people gave us disbelieving, almost pitying smile. All they could see was the popcorn ceilings, the lack of lighting, and all the gray vinyl flooring. We, however, were beside ourselves with excitement about that potential in this home. We had seen over 30 homes during a whirlwind weekend of home shopping. But the moment we walked through the door here, we knew it was home. I never once saw the imperfection. I only saw a house that wanted to be loved, that wanted to become our home.

We have loved this house almost like a family member, slowly bringing it to its potential. We stripped away the popcorn ceilings. We put in all new flooring, flooring that would hold up to the antics of three active boys. We added as much light as we could. We painted every surface. I'll be honest. When we were picking things for the home, I never once thought about which would be best for resale, what would be most appealing for other people. I picked things I loved, that went with the feeling we were creating in our home. 

There are more memories here than I could possibly share. We've planted bulbs in the front garden. We've made enormous leaf piles in the back yard. We've eaten countless dinners on the deck and then watched our children chases fireflies under the trees and wondered how we ever got so lucky.

At a meager 1300 square feet, this house has never felt small (except when suddenly, we've had to figure out where 6 house guests are sleeping.) Even as our family grew, there always seemed to be enough room for us. 

This home isn't the fanciest, most spacious home out there. But nearly everyone who has ever walked through the front door has mentioned how lovely the home is. I like to think that it isn't because of the decor or the paint color (although of course, I'm quite partial to those.) I like to think it's because there is so much love and life here, everyone can feel it.

It's time for us to move on with our lives, and that moving on is taking us back west, closer to family and away from this home. I'm quite heartbroken about leaving this house. There were days that I actually pictured us living here forever. Maybe this is how everyone feels about their first home.

I definitely hope it's how you feel about this one.

Sincerely,

Katherine

The Only Constant is Change

Here it is, nearly the end of March, and I haven't sat down all month to write.  After our whirl wind month, it feels difficult to summarize in a way that is succinct enough to be manageable and in depth enough to be meaningful.

We are in the middle of a transition period. Transitions are always difficult, full of unknowns, stress, half-executed plans, and a feeling of being unsettled. 

We are moving.

Hubster and I have both accepted jobs in Salt Lake City, Utah. I'm originally from there, as much as I can be originally from anywhere. Hubster has taken his dream job in a private practice dental practice. I've accepted an academic position at the University of Utah, which is turning out to be the dream job that I didn't even know I always wanted. We are both extremely happy with our new jobs.

That still doesn't make things easy.

Hubster found out about his job in November, but just got the contract settled two weeks ago. I interviewed for my job mid January, and am still trying to get things completely finalized.

Since we were fairly sure things were going to work out job-wise, we knew that we would have to sell our home. I actually met with our real estate agent weeks before I had even interviewed for my job.

Before putting our house on the market, we had a long list of home projects to do, including redoing both bathrooms. I've already shared the hall bathroom redo. The master bath is also completely finished, and a post sharing that is in the works. Doing all the projects ate up all our weekends in January and February.

We also had to replace the siding on our house, because the woodpeckers and weather have had a heyday with the original wood siding. Working with the subcontractor for the siding ended up being immensely frustrating; the whole process was prolonged and drug out and painful. In the end, the siding looks wonderful, although maybe not so wonderful as to be worth all the stress (which included the inability to use our garage or driveway for a month and a half during the worst of the winter weather).

Finally, all the work on the house was done, and we listed the house two weeks ago. We got an offer right away (that is its very own story.)

Last week, we flew out with all our kids to do some house hunting in Salt Lake City. Financing is still hazy, because of our massive student loans, but we think we have found a house we want to make an offer on.

Top this off with trying to get a new medical license for the state of Utah, Hubster taking his dental board exams, being in charge of decorations for the school carnival, keeping our house spotless for pictures, inspections, and showings, Duck deciding to unleash the terrible twos in full force, and Monkey and Bug extremely moody and difficult because they don't want to move, things have been crazy.

I'd like to say that I'm sailing through this with grace and poise and optimism, but that wouldn't be true. It's more like I'm blundering my way through with a short temper, frequent tears, and occasional active avoidance. 

At least winter is over and spring is coming. 

I'm hoping that just like the seasonal change, these changes in our lives will all be for the best. We just have to survive the transition.

Today is a New Day

Yesterday was not one of my shining moments. In fact, it was an all around awful day.

When I left for work at 6:30 am, two out of the three children were crying and refusing breakfast. The other one was loudly complaining about the other two crying. Hubster was looking overwhelmed at trying manage the crying and the rest of getting things ready by himself.

Each morning, when I leave for work and Hubster is left to finish dressing and feeding and herding all three boys, I feel guilty. Yesterday, when there were tears and yells, I felt even worse.

My work day was already scheduled to be long, but then some urgent issues came up and I didn't get to leave until an hour and a half after I was originally scheduled to leave. When I left the hospital at 6:30 pm, I was feeling so grateful that I had thought to do a crock pot meal, so that at least dinner would already be done when I got home.

When I walked through the door at a quarter to seven, dinner being done was about the only good thing going on. Bug and Monkey were quarreling something fierce. Hubster was repeated asking Monkey to get back on his homework. Duck was crying. Hubster looked as tired as I felt.

It just spiralled out of control from there. Duck refused to eat any dinner and kept climbing on the table. Monkey refused to eat with the rest of us and to do his homework. Bug kept sneaking away from his chores to play computer games and got grounded from all electronics for the rest of the week. During the chaos, the cat got on the table and ate part of the dinner. 

That crock pot dinner didn't do a thing to make the day better.

By the time the kids were tucked in to bed, there was no one who hadn't yelled and/or cried during the evening.

Like I said, not my proudest moment.

Most days, Hubster and I are pretty laid back and can just roll with what comes. Over the last dozen years of being parents, our patience has grown. Our perspective about what matter and what is a big deal has evolved; we know what battles to fight (teeth brushing and respect) and which are not battles at all (red socks. Red socks are never worth fighting about.) 

Almost every day is a little crazy at our house. That's just status quo for a family with two full time working parents, three boys, two cats, and a fish. At baseline, there is always noise and mess.

For some reason, our ability to cope with it yesterday was at an all time low. The long day, the late meal, the disruption of our house with the bathroom renovation, too many nights of not enough sleep, winter. It all came together in a perfect storm of a major parenting fail.

As the parent, my attitude sets the mood for the family. When I'm calm and happy and remember to respond with a smile and encouragement, things go great (for the most part.) When I'm tired and nursing a developing migraine and irritable, responding to my children in frustration and a raised voice, it's a guaranteed disaster.

Last night, I was well aware that I was not helping anything. I kept trying to give myself a mental pep talk. "Just be calm, don't get frustrated, it will only make it worse." That didn't help.

Normally, after an awful day where I wasn't the best mom, I just feel like a huge failure. Last night, I was almost too exhausted to even muster that feeling. As I kissed my boys' blond heads good night, I just felt relief that the day was over.

I always want to be the best parent possible. I always want to be patient and pulled together and the perfect example that they can look up to.

Sometimes, I just have bad days.

But today is a new day.

This morning, I took each of my kids and my husband aside. I gave them big hugs and apologized for the rough day before. I kissed them and told them that today is a new day.

I'll take yesterday, do my best to learn from it, and then tuck it away, where I won't continue to dwell on all my failures. I already know what went wrong. I don't need to keep beating myself up about it.

Today is a new day. Another day to be the parent I want to be. Another day to get back to how we want our family to be. 

2015 Word of the Year

Lately, I'm frequently finding myself distracted, anxious, and stressed. We just finished up a two week school break, and on the last evening, I found myself wondering where all that time had gone. I worried that I had squandered it on meaningless little errands, internet cat videos, and generalized busyness. 

 

Reflecting on that feeling led me to my 2015 word of the year.

 

Present

Present.

That is how I want to live this next year. 

I want to be present with my children. I want to turn off the phone, the television, the radio and fully focus on them. I want to actually listen to all their stories. I want to take the time to read with them, play games with them. I want to marvel in how they grow and change each day. I want to sit on the floor, at their level, and really be there for them.

I want to be present in the now. I want to let go of the anxiety I have for the future. Some stress is inevitable.  I don't need to make it worse by focusing all my energy on it. I want to plan for what I'm able to and just deal with what else arrives when I have to. I want to look forward to the future and what it holds without spending my today worrying about potential troubles.

I want to be present with myself. I want to fully enjoy what it is I'm doing, and stop feeling guilty about the things I think I should be doing. I want to just read my book without thinking about how I should be dusting. I want to enjoy my run without thinking about how far I wish I could go or how many calories I'd like to burn. I want to

I want to be present in my life. I want to remember to realize how wonderful my life is right now. I don't have to wait to be happy until Hubster is done with school, or until our student loans are paid off, or until we find the perfect job or the perfect house, or until I'm the perfect weight. I want to enjoy the present, the right now, just as things are.

This is my life.

And I will be present in it.

 

(All images taken from Pinterest  and are not my own.)

Review of 2014: Part 3

Already it's time to review July through September, which means that this review is moving almost as fast as all of 2014 seems to go.

 

The summer gave us some time to try to recover from the difficult previous months. We don't get a lot of time off that we get to spend all together, so we did our best to make the most of it.

 

 

July

 

We celebrated the Fourth with Popsicles, sparklers, and glow sticks.

 

 

 

 

We left on what I started calling our epic family road trip, traveling to the Great Smokey Mountains, Disney World, the Gulf Coast, Atlanta, Nashville, and other locations.

 

 

 

 

We took awesome family pictures like this...

 

 

I fell in love with road tripping and have spent all the time since trying to convince Hubster that we should buy an Airstream.

 

August

 

We spent a weekend in Chicago.

 

 

We sent the two oldest boys on their first solo trip to visit their grandparents. We all survived.

 

 

We tried to make the most of each hot day. We ate our weight in Popsicles.

 

 

 

Monkey turned 8.

 

 

 

Bug started middle school. Monkey started 3rd grade.

 

 

 

We all survived.

 

 

September

 

I started seriously looking for my next job. Hubster and I flew to the West Coast to interview. I didn't get the job and for very complicated reasons, I was ok with it.

 

 

 

 

We redid our deck.

 

 

We went apple picking.

 

 

Overall, we did our best to take it slower. And enjoy every moment that we could. After how stressful the first part of the year was, it was just what we needed.