Monday, September 21, 2015

And then there was that time...

moving day.  and to answer your immediate question - no.  we aren't keeping the swamp sconces.

Remember that really bitter phase I went through because my family was moving across the country, and I wasn't overly happy about it?  Totally over.  I can't even begin to express my gratitude for what has happened since the last time I posted.

Flashback two months ago:  Rob and I were going to pick up the kids and move our little family (Still? Why can't I stop calling them my little family? We are massive!) to North Carolina.  I finally said to Rob "I will do this.  Happily.  I promise I will make the best of our time on the East Coast and never complain.  Who knows - I might even enjoy it.  But for the sake of our kids I will stop freaking about about this really cool opportunity to try something new."

One day later:  I just really want to look at this house that is for sale down the street.  I've always wanted to go inside - just come with me to take a peek. Just for fun.

(We go).  We chuckle about the very fancy strangely set-up home that has incredibly ornate decorating.  (Not bad, just not our style).   We then sit at dinner and say, "We're not really considering that house, right?!  Hahaha - well, it was fun to see it."  Conversation over.

The next morning:  I wake up in a full blown panic attack.  I have just spent the entire night dreaming about our life in the very fancy, ornate home that is only five houses away from where we have lived for nine years.  I go to the gym - where I can't stop figuring out HOW I am supposed to tell my husband that God wants us to live in this house.  I mean, it was just the day before I had PROMISED to never complain about moving again.  But I cannot shake the feeling that for some unknown reason, we are going to make a very beautiful life for our family in this lovely cul-de-sac at the end of our road.

After hours of deliberating I come home to tell Rob.  My hands are shaking and my heart is about to pound its way right out of my chest.  "Rob.  I need to tell you what I'm feeling.  If I don't say it now - I will regret that I never spoke my mind on this.  Please just listen, and you don't have to say anything....just know that I am overwhelmed by this feeling.  I think we are supposed to buy the house in the cul-de-sac."

My heart finally stops pounding.

Silence on his end.  One minute, two heart starts pounding again.  Crap.  He is REALLY ticked at me.

Fight begins.  And goes on, and on and on.  But I still can't shake the feeling.

Hours later - Rob realizes that if I am this dead-set on staying here, we can't move our family across the country.  We will stay - just not in that house down the street.  I am overjoyed....but still plan on letting him know that it WILL be the house down the street, because I have already been given the answer to my prayer.

The next day:  Rob and I are chatting in our bedroom about where we will start looking for homes - suddenly he is very quiet.  Almost ten minutes go by and he hasn't said a word.  He looks over at me and says, "I think we are supposed to put an offer in on that house down the street."

Hugs, smiles, laughs.  For the first time in a LONG time we are in agreement as to our family's future.  Best feeling ever.

Now, here we are.  We have been in the house for nearly a month and can't believe how happy we are to feel settled in a place we know and love.

And so our adventure continues. Stay tuned.

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Soapbox Post

I have been cynical preeeetty much my entire life.  Cynical, sarcastic, a huge fan of Daria in the 90' get the point.  I struggled through middle school, passed high school by the skin of my teeth (or just the grace of a few teachers who really didn't want to deal with me any longer) and spent all of my college days driving around in my wrangler listening to music while my friends were at class.  So, in my defense, I don't have a HUGE attachment to education.  I obviously understand how important it is and always, ALWAYS push my kids to do their very best in school.  Once they have earned their doctorates and are drowning in student loan debt, I will share my true feelings with them. But only then because I know my feelings are based around bad experiences and, well, I'll just call it being lazy.

Now.  That being said.  I have really been struggling to find schools for my kids in North Carolina.  I have asked local "mommy groups,"  scoured the internet, and read pretty much everything there is to read about the education system in our new area.  Mostly, I just want my kids to have a better experience than I did.  So, when I found that many of the local Pre-K programs involve plaid romper uniforms, embroidered-crest-polos, and cost almost as much as my monthly mortgage payment I pretty much flipped my lid.


This is preschool, people.  I remember preschool vaguely as a place I went to eat crackers and sing, "Did you ever see a Lassie?" There was a bully in my preschool class that I was terrified of (you should see his class picture - you wouldn't sleep for weeks either), and I had two elderly teachers.  One played the piano and one smelled like baby powder.  That's it...all of my memories from the year before kindergarten.

Why, oh why would I spend so much money on a, a PRESCHOOL, whose name ends in the word academy? Am I missing something?  Is this what has happened to school in the past twenty years?  All I am seeking is a place, heck, I'd settle for a gated off room, where my kids can go to see other kids - make a big mess, sing the ABCs, and practice the manners we teach them at home.  Because, that's what four year olds do, right?

I'll post more as I submit my applications and pray that my daughter is smart enough to pass the entrance exam.  As opinionated as I can expect this to get interesting!

Wednesday, June 24, 2015


Oh, there once was a time - maybe a year or so ago - that I vowed to become a better blogger. I announced to both of my followers a new Melissa - well, I guess the old Melissa, who loved to blog and share stories about her cray-cray family.

Promises, promises....

Today I offer no promises.  I only offer a quick glimpse into my life as it is at this very moment.  Not because I think anyone ever reads this anymore, but because I need to have some memories written down.  I feel like I'm at this big turning point in my life - and I want to remember it.  The good, the bad, the mascara-down-to-my-chin sobbing, and the joy we will {hopefully} find in this next chapter.

You see, we sold our house.  The perfect little box of memories that has defined the last nine years of our life.  I'm happy because it sold quickly, effortlessly, and we got everything we wanted out of it, but hysterical because I will miss the living crap out of this place.  I honestly can't even finish this paragraph because I can't see my computer screen through the tears.

I think you get the point. Moving on.

In about four weeks we are packing up our little family.  (Side note:  I think it's probably time I stopped referring to my family as little.  We are a family of seven now - so, I think  we actually qualify as a big family.)  But yes, we are moving our family to an area in which I never imagined living.  The South.

As we spend this last month taking in every thing we can about the beautiful state that we live in, I will update this often.  After we move, I might even update hourly as therapy.  Who knows.  All I know is that we are headed out, taking on something completely different, and I am scared to death.

But, on the bright kid DOES look like this right now:  pizza face (literally - no 80's acne joke intended) dipped in snickerdoodle sugar and cinnamon.  That can't be a bad thing, right?