We're HOME!! (...have been for awhile...)

I've been wanting to write on this blog for months.  Today, I finally found the time.


WE'RE HOME!!!
The week after Easter, some blessed weekend in April of 2014, we moved back home.  Back to our beautiful home.
I spent days and days packing up the stuff in Aunt Ackie's house, trying to remember what was ours and what was not.  Looking into every corner and crevice to found scattered toys or leftover socks.  Labeling every box so the movers would know where to put them.  Once all of our stuff was stashed away, her house looked so empty that it was eerie, and strangely sad.
The day of the big move, I took off work to finish packing and help the movers.  They came to Aunt Ackie's first and loaded up everything from there.  As I walked out of her house, now so bare, I got pretty emotional.  But then I led the movers to our house.  Pulling into our driveway was such an incredible feeling.  Jesse was already there, meeting the cable company.  I directed the movers to different places with different boxes, watching slowly as our house started to fill up with our stuff.
Then, I had to take them to a storage building we'd been using and to my mother's (whose spare bedroom we'd started calling the "FedEx Room").  Before the movers were even finished, as my mom and I were unpacking and Jesse was putting things together, my dad walked my children to our house.  Finally, our family was together!
But there was still so much left to do.  My in-laws arrived to help and took over taking care of the kids.  We continued to unpack and set up and get ready, and somewhere in between it all, eat supper.  We had friends and family stop by to give their support and help.  It was a very hectic day.


Jesse and I just knew that we'd have to suffer through several sleepless nights, while all of us adjusted to being back home.  We'd talked at length about how we'd handle it when our kids woke up in the middle of the night.


But you know what?  No one did.  Everyone slept peacefully.
Right before I fell asleep that night, it hit me that, this should feel strange.  It should feel new.  But it didn't.  Even with the changes we'd made, even after being away for 9 months, it still felt comfortably and perfectly like home.

Update

I knew better. I knew I shouldn't get sucked in. I knew every construction project takes longer than expected. But still, when our builder looked at me more than once and said with total confidence, "Oh we'll be finished by the end of January, no problem," I fell for it. I dreamt about it. I shared the date. I mentally counted down the days until Feb1st. 

With the long-awaited deadline fast approaching, Jesse and I went shopping this week for house stuff. We wanted to buy anything we'd actually need for living.  We had to be ready, we thought. 

In one quick trip, we bought our couch and ottoman, our living room rug, Eliot's bedding and rug, all Emerson's bedroom furniture. It was a bittersweet day. We were excited to pick out our new stuff, but sad knowing we couldn't use it right away. Spending the day picturing our home was painful actually. Finding and sitting on our old couch brought me to tears as I pictured Moe lounging on his favorite spot. 

When we got home, Jesse and I took turns saying, "I want to be home." Something about that trip made us really miss home and feel a need to be there.

So today, I text our builders...just curious...when would you guess is our move-in date? Then I waited anxiously for his response. 

I should've known better. I did know better. Still, when I got the following response, my heart broke: 

"Trim is being delivered Wednesday and starting Thursday with trim. I would say end of February middle of March."

Wow. 

Smiling

I keep getting complimented on my ability to stay positive through all of this.
Last month, the students gave me the Silver Shield Award.  The student who nominated me announced to the entire student body that  I had suffered a terrible tragedy this year, but that you would never know it because I come to school in a great mood every day.  Last night - on Christmas night - my facebook status simply said Life is awesome, and I got an incredibly kind post from a cousin explaining it was awesome because I choose to look at that positive.
I'm going to admit a few things about all of this...
1 - I know this is one of my greatest strengths.  I am a happy person.  I am optimistic and energetic 99.9% of the time.  I know that people value that, especially the older I get.
2 - I never go more than five minutes without thinking about the fire and our loss and, honestly, feeling insanely sad about it. I am on the brink of tears more often than people realize. I am so deeply sad - sadder than I have ever in my life felt - and it doesn't seem to get any easier with time. 

Some thoughts...

It's been awhile since I've written and so many times, I find myself thinking, "I need to write a post about that..."
So, here is my post about all of "that" - in no particular order.

Today, after someone asked me about the changes we've made to our home, she said, "You know, in a way, this could end up being a blessing."  I'd just like to add that to the list of things you should never say to someone who has lost her home to a fire.  Have we made positive changes?  Yes.  Are we saving ourselves years of home improvement projects?  Yes.  But that fire was and never will be a "blessing."  Trust me when I say those home projects could wait.

Similar to that, people have made several comments about how at least it's nice that I get to go shopping or that I have new stuff.  But people aren't really thinking it through when they make those comments. Everyone loves new clothes and new shoes.  But everyone also has that one pair of jogging pants she's had for years because its just so comfortable...  that one pair of boots that are the perfect blend of stylish and comfortable, which took many neglected pairs of boots and many different shoe stores to find... that "go to" black dress for nights when you want to look nice... that scarf, that sweater, that necklace that has some kind of emotional connection to it that makes you cling to it even years after you've stopped wearing it.  And then there are the things we don't think about...  When I went to replenish my closet in August, I didn't think about buying gloves.  I went a few weeks in December desperate for gloves until I got the opportunity to buy some.  Similarly, I forgot about rain books until I practically ruined a pair of pants walking through a rain storm.  Bras are impossible to buy online and yet I have no time to get to a mall, so I'm struggling in that department.  There's just so much.  When people seem jealous of my "new clothes," I wish they'd really stop and think about losing everything in their closet in exchange for a few new items.

On a more positive note, last week, we got walls!!  The dry wall finally went up.  That's been my dream since this happened - I wanted it to look like a home again.  It's finally starting to. The day that I went to see the drywall, I walked upstairs and stood in Emerson's old nursery and suddenly I was crying.  Tears were rolling down my cheeks and I couldn't figure out why.  I still can't really articulate it, but it was a blend of both good and bad emotions.  The walls made it look more like home, which brought back to reality what we lost.  It also made the changes come to life, which was fun but also made me miss the way it was.  They were also happy tears because it meant we were that much closer to being home.  It was an emotional moment for me, indeed.

I keep getting emotional about Moe.  I think it's the holidays.  Moe loved sitting under the Christmas tree.  It looks really empty without him.

This Friday, Jesse and I are going shopping to try to catch after Christmas sales on our home products.  That should be exciting!!

I'm falling asleep at the laptop - (life is pretty crazy right now around Christmas!) - so I better go.  Until next time... which will hopefully be sooner...

Sounds in my head

Snap. Crackle. Pop. 

The sounds of children's cereal

And fire. 

Snapping my life in two halves,

Crawling and creeping and

crackling it's way up the stairs

To Her room

To Lick at Her crib, and Crouch behind

The door to peek a boo

Into my life in the most random times

Even at the breakfast table

Over cereal. 

Nov 21

I don't want to live here anymore. 

I want to be home. 

It's Been Awhile

The guy from our restoration company recently said he thought we'd be back in our house by the end of January. He said it it with so much confidence too. Like, eh, no big deal. That is such a big deal. I'd convinced myself to just accept the fact that I'd be spending this school year in Aunt Ackie's house. January! That feels so close. I never thought I'd want Christmas to rush by, but I do now. 

This past week, we went to the outlets in Edinburgh for some serious replacement shopping. It was an adventure shopping with Emerson and Eliot, but we managed to spend quite a bit of money. 

Sometimes I feel guilty for all the new things we're getting. Like someone is going to see us and think, well, they didn't need our money or sympathy! It would be hard to understand...to remember...yeah we have lots of nice, new stuff...but at what a cost!

They're making lots of changes to our house. I guess WE are but between the interior designer, cabinet maker, architect and builders all spitting out ideas in their jargon (and none of whom had even seen our house pre-fire), it's a bit overwhelming. I find myself nodding in agreement without fully understanding it all. I'm nervous. I'm scared we are ruining our home.