Off and on, I've mentioned some of the pros and cons of a mid school year move. Not sure whether to call the following analogy of the mid-year move a pro or con, I have found it distinct on my journey.
The fall season was bittersweet as we said our goodbyes to a long life chapter. We found ourselves thrown into the winter cold and snow in a completely new life in a new house. While greeted with such warmth and friendliness, we still felt lonely, missing everything that was familiar and comfortable. I found January to be a long month of intense transition. I was, we were all, sick. I had some winter blues. And we lived in a house that the following three pictures depict.
Due to the pink carpet that we had torn out the week before we moved, a good month was spent walking around piles such as this one...
as Russ worked on the floor, seen here...
A month! I tell you, a month! Meanwhile, I painted: one bathroom, one bedroom, another wall in yet another bedroom, and a quarter of the concrete wall in the unfinished basement. To coexist in the mayhem was really madness. By the time Russ finished the flooring, I was hardly in the mood to reinvest in all those boxes that were stashed everywhere.However, daily something was accomplished. Certain activities would give us deadlines to get a few pictures on the wall, a couple more boxes unpacked, and another piece of furniture moved in its place. Decisions were made regarding the personality of this house. Rooms were different than what we were previously in. We made decisions on whether to keep certain pieces, what new rooms other pieces would be in. Unpacking wasn't as simple as emptying a box as we had packed it and putting it in the equivalent room here in Kansas. And so, the process was just that... a process. One we knew would eventually show results, but seemed like a season we would never exit. At least, not this year.
It was not planned to push for the spring deadline at all. When the first day of March hit, and we found ourselves still piled high in transition and mess, I was deeply saddened. I turned to a hope in summer, as the next goal for some resemblance of a home. Hardly believing that this move would by then have taken up most of a year counting back from last August when the interview process was in high swing.
Yet, somehow, the many boxes that were unpacked this last week put our house together. While we still can't get into the garage, or really make sense of the basement, I feel like I can let people into my home finally. And that is refreshing; like spring.
I welcome you, my family and friends, into our home. The following shows the view right when you step into the front door. Straight leads to the kitchen or to the backyard. Left to the living room, and then dining room and to the kitchen. Or right, into the guest bedroom. Let us go upstairs first.
Our three bedrooms are upstairs. Here is ours. Looking at the picture now, makes me think I should have put on the decorative pillows that are always in the corner of the room on the floor.
For now, the boys like to share a bedroom and have a playroom. I've worked hard on the playroom; painting walls and furniture. I still need to sew the curtains that will replace these old dusty blinds. The many boxes of children's books were unpacked this week. And the boys now have access to all their toys.
The boys have all the cowboy cutouts from the youth fundraiser dinner on display in their bedroom. The figures took a little getting used to for Russ and myself, but the boys were sold immediately.
We are back downstairs now again, and looking into the small guest bedroom.
Here is the kitchen. The four of us eat at the kitchen counter daily.
The kitchen also leads directly into the dining room. No more weaving in and out of rooms carrying dishes when we have company.
A family picture (one of those we had to search for its new place of belonging) hangs on the wall in here. Dellen is seven weeks old in this picture. He is the babe with all that black hair! I loved it. What a surprise when he was born. I had always loved babies with lots of dark hair. I love the little blondie he is now too. Sam was just over three years, and this picture represents some sweet and precious moments for our family.
Below it is a little tin sign that we bought late last summer. While we were shopping one time, Sam had found one he loved. Dellen immediately picked up this pretty one and asked me what it said. I replied, "Mother ~ A mother holds her children's hands for just a little while, but their hearts forever. " My sweet child, embraced that tin sign and hugged it saying how much he loved it. I simply couldn't resist buying it and the one that Sam had chosen as well, which will be shown in a little while. They were never put up in Corn, and are new to this house.
Another view of the dining room, looking into the kitchen.
There are two doorways in and out of the kitchen, living and dining rooms downstairs; the perfect race track. Somehow, we never noticed that when we were looking at the house without the children. I loved that about my grandparents' house as well. Here are two views of the living room from the dining room doorway.
Yesterday, several decor boxes were unpacked, and games, videos, and music that all go inside this entertainment center. I was the most please last night. I love the feel of this room. I love how accessible our stuff is finally. It just felt like home last night. After the boys went to bed, I came and sat on the couch in the silence and just soaked it all in. Sam has started his piano lessons again, and there is music coming from the piano again. Tears come to my eyes just typing right now. It has been a long time since I've felt this way. So grateful for home. And yet, I am instantly humbled. I don't want to feel like I'm home simply because of materialistic items. Japan is heavy on my heart. Before that, the Middle East. Chili. Haiti. New Orleans. Indonesia. I'm going to dig much deeper for where my contentment rests, and Who it rests in. I have no idea why this move has been so hard. Seems like silliness to me really. But, I am a relational being, and I have grieved.
This picture, the final view, is taken from the kitchen, facing the front door. Sam's tin sign was placed over the doorway for him, and all of us, to see every time we walk out the door.
Our home feels more complete today. But, it has been home to us nonetheless throughout all these months, while we've lived in the midst of all the boxes and transition. We have loved each other and played games and snuggled and told stories, creating the memories that make a home.As spring blossoms in our reach now, I hope and pray the lessons that I've learned through these long winter months will also bloom in my life during this next season and many more to come following.
