Monday, May 24, 2010
Our Reluctant Move
The last time we moved I was excited. We were getting out of a house I hated. In that house I had almost died from carbon monoxide poisoning. It was there that I broke my ankle falling down the stairs. It was a money pit. As soon as we completed a major repair, usually asking one of our sets of parents for the money, another huge repair was needed. In fact the day before we finally moved the pipe under the bathtub broke.
The neighborhood wasn't the best. In the few years I was there it went down hill. The elementary school at the end of the street closed. Businesses that had been there for years closed or moved. I didn't feel safe taking my baby for a walk around the block. There was a drive by shooting around the corner from us. We even had a level 3 sex offender living just 7 houses away from us.
When mom offered us a way to get out of there I did all I made sure we accepted it. It meant we had to live in a house my mother in law owned. Dennis wasn't thrilled about that, but for our child's sake (for back then we only had on child) we accepted. We got out of there and I was relieved.
Now almost 6 years later my mother in law anted us to move from a duplex to a single. She was not happy about the mess in our house. In fact neither was I. It has just become too much. I know it needs to be cleaned, I also know I have no idea how to get it done. I have become a hoarder. I am embarrassed by it and afraid because I don't know how to fix it.
So here I am moving out of one house, that has become a disaster, into another new start for us. This house has writing all over the walls, no matter how we punish the children they still managed to cover the walls with scribbles. I gave up trying to remove it al. I always assumed I would just paint over it all. In fact I had even planned to do just that this summer.
The house I am in now is just a huge fail for me. Was it the crippling depression I suffered last year that was my breaking point? I don't know, but somehow I just stopped in this house. I crawled into bed and gave up. I hide in my room and avoid all I can.
In the last year I have gone through therapy, I went back to school to get trained for a job I always wanted but never let myself pursue. I faced my fears and usually won.
So now we have a final chance, move to a new house and start again. My MIL is amazing, how many other's would keep on helping, even when it looks like all will fail? So I am determined to make this work. I am trying to make this move be out last. I am going to make this house be my priority along with my family.
The house is around the corner from us. We can actually walk everything over to it, though I am hoping to move many things in one major trip. But I am approaching this move different from the last.
We are painting before we move in. When we moved into this house we moved in on the first day we could and it was chaos. We did nothing really to help make this house our own. Nothing new, no painting the walls, no real thought about what were bringing and what we didn't really need.
So we are slowly moving things into this new house, we are painting, to make it ours. We are making sure the furniture works in the house and we are getting a few new things to finish it off. The kids are being a lot of help and are helping us stay focused. We want them to invite their friends over and not be embarrassed to bring them inside.
We really didn't want to move, we never would have suggested it. The timing was awful, right at the end of the semester, and all I could think was that I wanted no part of it. Now I am accepting it and I think I am even embarrassing it. I think I am in a better place to take care of the house. The move might have been reluctant, but it was necessary I think.