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Moving to NY

We’re doing it again. Ripping up house and home to seek a better life in farther lands. This time it’s C’s turn, and he’ll bring us back to the east coast. We’re on 4 yr cycles right now but he’s promised that this will be the last time. I guess I believe him/us when we say it.

The stress of information management and contemplating the to-do list has me physically ill and emotionally volatile.  I can’t convince myself that we’re not being impulsive, again.

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changing life’s phases

Making major changes in your “state” is the most stressful thing you can do. Changing from employed to unemployed, married to divorced or widowed, single to married, non-parent to parent. I’ve been asked to move, again, by my spouse. His request, for his new job. Previous 3 job moves have been for me. I know it’s his turn. I will do my best to convince my employer that I can work remotely. I will manage the transition of 3 children to 3 different schools/situations. I will find new doctors/therapists/orthotists to help child1 with her medical needs. I will find a new orthodontist to help child2 and child3 with their orthodontia needs. I will find a new piano teacher and yoga instructor to help me with my needs.

I can envision the new reality. I’m just pained to get there.

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lack of parity

Parity is the word we use in our family when the evening outdoor temperature finally reaches the indoor one, and we can turn off the air conditioner and open the doors and windows.

This week parity was the word I thought of when my father and stepmother had their final divorce reconciling in court.  My father “won” and my stepmother “lost” and there was a bit of gloating and bit of resignation and relief.  But I’m wrong, there is no parity.  How do we place a value on the lifetime of hurt he’s given us?   Will he ever know?  Is this just a slap in the face reminder of the need for forgiveness and moving on?

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calling dad

Time to call dad.  Week before last he’d taken off from his house on Thanksgiving morning to check out NYC apartments.  No need to tell anyone where he’s going, right?  He works best alone.  Best not to call after 8pm east coast time.  Sobriety uncertain.

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oranges for the soccer team

Our turn to bring the snack but didn’t manage to buy oranges until the last minute (in spite of the fact that the date has been known for months).  Fortunately, orchard next to the fields sells 10 pound bags for $3 so I brought knife and cutting board along with me.   Bought oranges then saw M. and B. loading their things into the car.  Felt very  parenting-inadequate, as usual.  Hid behind orange trees until they left.  Cut oranges in car while standing on the side of the road, taking care not to drop any sections on to the dirty car floor.  Filled bowl.  Voila.