I think one of my most fervent prayers to Heavenly Father of late has been, "Help me be grateful." I really am grateful for the year I got in Highland. I'm grateful for all the family time, knowing the area, and being awed by the elementary school and the good people all around us. I'm thankful for my rent-free/mortgage-free year and living with the easiest people to live with on the planet; my parents are just incredible.
But life has not gone according to my cherished plans. I hoped Doug would get to be an administrator in Utah County, or maybe as far as in beautiful St. George, and it just didn't happen. Provo, Utah Valley, and Orem buildings got pulled into the Sandstone St. George market (probably because the Utah and Salt Lake County buildings were doing so terribly under Brad's leadership) and Doug had an incredible time working with Sunstone. He took over the Utah Valley building for the one month it took to close it, and he was hired here in Olympia for the Olympia Transitional Care and Rehabilitation building. He was recruited in San Antonio, Texas, and Walla Walla, Washington, as well, but this building felt like the right opportunity.
Doug loves it. He's even happier now that we've joined him. He came here alone on June 14th and then flew to us in Highland on July 14th. He helped us load all of our stuff in our huge moving van, and away we went to Olympia.
We live in a big, pretty house, and it feels like we're in a safe neighborhood. We live across the street from the bishop, so the situation comes highly recommended. I am starting to learn some of the main streets and I have gotten the "rerouting" message on my phone SO many times as I have tried to get around. We live right by the bike path, and it is so beautiful. I'm injured, so I haven't been able to run for almost a month. I HATE that. My foot aches as I work on unloading boxes; I miss my runs. I know I can ride my bike; I just haven't figured out a routine yet that allows me to read my scriptures, exercise, do my schoolwork, parent lovingly, and get boxes unloaded.
I do not like being a single mom. It didn't feel as hard in Utah because I could often play with friends and family. Here, I know no one, and I can't help thinking that I never signed on for five children to parent alone.
Every time I want to unload about my problems, I feel reigned in with reminders that things could be worse. I could have no spouse, unhealthy kids, kids who have passed away, parents or siblings who have passed away, horrible crimes committed against me and my loved ones, or all manner of other horrific things. I know it and I get it, but I don't want to guilt myself into unhappy silence. I prefer unhappy, sardonic musings, thank you very much.
A few updates from youngest to oldest:
We have a new baby painted turtle named Rex. We hope he lives because we spent $200 on his tank and supplies.
Corban is walking. He just learned how to pull himself up to standing without anything to lean on other than the floor. So cute, so awesome, such a delight. He can say "Mamma," Dada," "Turtle", uh-oh" and "Isaac."
Cason is STILL not potty trained. He can go days without an accident while being directed to go potty a few times a day (still won't go on his own without prodding), but that doesn't cure him of his frustrating choice to poop in his pull-up or underwear. I just cleaned up an underwear mess during nap time. I almost always have him in a pull-up during rest and bed-time, but today I didn't, and I cut off his SuperMan underwear and threw it in the trash as a result. (I resolved never to scrub poop off underwear ever again, and I'm holding to that resolution.) Cason is cute and cuddly and deserves more attention. He loves that he now gets to be roommates with Isaac.
Brooklyn is sharp and funl She's still a shrieker and whiner when feeling persecuted. She's a great helper a lot of the time and also deserves more of my attention. I think we can safely say that for all my kids except Corban, who demands and receives my ample attention.
Lucy is beautiful, excited to have and spend her money, loves playing with friends, and is so funny. She's going through a "pout about everything" phase that I hope goes away for a few years.
Isaac is being forced to branch out a little. Today, he's bowling, going to a lacrosse throwing camp, and going to scouts with some other 10-year-olds in the ward. I'm worried that they won't want to hang out with him as they get to know him because he isn't athletic and prefers playing with his little toy animals to playing outside. I would be eternally grateful for him to make friends with some active, good kids who he can relate to.
I don't want to have a "this too shall pass" philosophy, but my heart isn't here in Olympia. It's wherever family is, and that's not here. I'm feeling like going to the beach will make me feel better, but I have thirty boxes and thirty-four essays barring my path from relaxing. And no running to get my endorphins. And guess how not working out makes me feel about my body? Grr. . . Just trying to hang in here.
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