On Moving and Positivity

Most days of the week I'm completely settled with the life move we've made this year. When asked how I'm liking Macon I reply without hesitation that we love it. And we do. There are so many things about moving that have been huge on the pro list. 

We love our house here (disregarding the kitchen which needs a complete overhaul). 

We love the short commutes and light traffic.

We love our nanny and the boys' new school (though I'll always have a soft spot for Primrose).

We love the new-found family time that we have gained by losing the heavy traffic and my new hours at work (I leave at 4:30 everyday). 

We love our neighborhood and new neighbors and downtown Macon has this appeal that just grows on you.

But there are days where I wonder if I am adjusting as well as I'm saying I am or if I'm trying to convince myself that I'm happy here.  And then I wonder if it really matters. If you fake something long enough, you eventually start believing it, right?  So I'm going to continue loving Macon and eventually those few pieces of me that are still not so sure will come around. That's my plan anyway.

Though I must admit that just because I do like it here and am overall happy we moved here (and yes, I would do it again if given the option), there are things I miss from home.

I miss my girlfriends. I have some great friends and I hate not being able to see them on a weekly basis. I miss our Sunday brunches at Radial with the kids and a frazzled waiter. I miss our play dates.  I miss our girls nights. I also really miss working with my coworkers. There's two girlfriends at work who made my work life so much fun and they're proving to be irreplaceable.  I miss them.

I miss my parents being close by and having a regular date night with my husband because of them. Luckily, both of these things are changing soon...my parents are moving to Macon!  And we actually already have our weekly date night back thanks to our nanny.

There are other things and places I miss.  Restaurants and places to take the kids (the zoo, the aquarium, splash pads and great parks). But those aren't leaving any empty holes in my heart, they're just old favorites that will be replaced by new Macon favorites in time..

I think I'm just having a reflective day and wondering what it's all about.  This life. What's the point? I haven't the answer.

But this move has taught me something really important about life and marriage.  We moved here for my husband's job. His dream job. I was scared and we talked a lot about whether or not I would resent him for moving us to a place I had no desire to go at the time. We decided it was unlikely and it could always just be a temporary move if need be.  So here we are.  Well, while it may have been scary for ME, it was the best decision for our family.  My husband LOVES his job. He is a different person than he was in Atlanta where work was trying many days. He is a different husband.  And our whole family has benefited from this move.  It really isn't just about you when you're married.  Sometimes you must take a leap of faith that things will work out.  And you must love and support your spouse and their dreams.  I suspect our marriage would certainly not have strengthened had I made him turn down this opportunity.

We still have bad days and bad moments. I get frustrated and I've been known to cry for no reason.  But that's just who I am, a crier.  A crier who is trying to make a new life in a new town.

I really do think I like it here.

Feels Like Home

 Two months. We've been here for two months and it is now feeling like home. And I don't just mean the four walls of this house. I mean this town. It is growing on me. I think I am meant to live in a small(er) town. I think this place is a good fit for our family. I think we are home.

It started slowly. I missed my friends (I still do). I missed knowing where everything was in the grocery store. I missed my favorite restaurants. I missed the familiarity of Atlanta.

But Macon has welcomed us with open arms and when someone hugs you, you can't help but hug back. The kindness of the people here has blown me away. People are genuinely nice and glad you are here. My neighbors have opened their homes and dinner tables to us. A coworker I'd never met called her daycare to see if they could work me in after she heard I'd fired our nanny without a backup plan (another story for another day). My sorority sister who I hadn't seen in almost ten years invited us to trick-or-treat with her family and friends. We have truly experienced Southern hospitality at its finest.

I'm still figuring out my new job, which comes with its own set of difficulties. But I'm home by 4:45 almost every afternoon and I spend only 6 minutes commuting to and from work. That's not even two songs on the radio! By moving here I have regained time with my family. I no longer have a commute that leaves my knuckles white from stress and my mind frazzled from trying to cram family and dinner time into an hour before the boys' bedtime. My husband is home at 5:30 most days and we eat dinner as a family. We may not make as much money as we used to, but there's no amount of money that can buy you more time with your loved ones. The drop in income has been worth every lost penny. 

Our Two Lawyer Marriage

Only three days into the reboot of our two career household and the bickering and side-eye rolls have begun. I hate that this is the reality, but it is. Don't read anything into this, or take it the wrong way. To be clear, our marriage is solid. We're deeply in love and neither of us is going anywhere. But that doesn't change the fact that marriage is hard and requires work. As into this man as I am, we're not Mr. and Mrs. Sunshine every day. So let's not pretend we are.

I think this is at the front of my attention because we've just had a shift in dynamics.  For almost two months, he has worked full time and I have stayed at home with the kids. My sole responsibility has been caring for our children (a full time job, for sure) and tending to our house. There were no legal clients for me to worry about, or a long to-do list of work and home that pulled me in different directions.

Just the kids and home. This included the grocery shopping, the cooking, the cleaning and the organizing. We never had a conversation delegating these tasks to me, it just happened. I could go to Kroger at 11am on Tuesday, while a full time 9-5er could not. I could start dinner at 4:30 and have whatever culinary creation I was up to making plated by 5:30. We even had time to play outside or go for a family walk before the baby's 6:30 bedtime rolled around. The bathrooms got wiped down during nap time and the washing machine was constantly running. And while I am about as far from a domestic goddess as one can get, I had no resentment towards my husband for having to do all these things. It honestly didn't cross my mind that he should be doing them. I took it on as my job.  Simple as that.

But then I went back to work full time. And the rushing and the feeling of never enough time is back. I hate that feeling. And suddenly I find myself jumping down my husband's throat for no reason at all.  And the poor man doesn't really have a chance. He asks what he can do to help with dinner, but I snap that I've got it, when I could really use a hand setting the table or chopping some vegetables. I am cold to him when our baby wants his dada and refuses to come to momma, as if this daddy stage is something he has caused. Yet I see the sadness on his face as he's rocking our boy before bed because his wife has tears in her eyes over something he has no control over. I feel like his questions about the nanny are accusations of things I'm clearly screwing up. I blame him for not letting the dog out in the morning which resulted in an accident and then nitpicked his use of the steam cleaner to clean the carpets.  I think you get the point.

There must be a connection between the uptick in disagreements and the reemergence of my job. When both spouses are working outside the home (and you have children), no one is really off the clock until the kids are in bed. You leave your office job and you come home and have to do all the home things. You have to cook dinner, clean the house AND spend quality time with the kids, when you're all tired and cranky after having had a full day already. It's clearly a recipe for disaster (at least for us).  And left unchecked for too long, I can see how the wheels can fall off a marriage over time.

So what to do? For me, the first thing is to apologize and admit that I'm a massive part of the problem. (Ok, so maybe I am the problem. Maybe.) And then I need to prioritize. What's important? For me, my discontentment is coming from feeling like I have no time with my boys now that I'm working again. Going from all day with them to just a few hours, is a stark difference. But if I'm going to continue with all this honesty, I'll admit that all day with two small children (especially in a town where you don't know anyone), is hard and lonely. Sure I had large quantities of time with my boys, but the quality was less than I'd like to admit. I took for granted the time with them. I didn't plan our days, I turned on the TV and I wasn't a "yes" mom who did tons (or any) of creative, educational, Pinterest-inspired activities. But now that I'm having to cram my time with them into a few short hours, I feel saddened and defeated. It's as though I've accepted that it's not enough time, so why even try? (Ugh, I hate realizing these things about myself!)  And why I take this out on the husband, I have no idea. My working is not something he pushed for - he is supportive of my career, but he is 100% on board with a full shift if that's what I decide at any given time I want.

So how do I spend the quality time with the boys in just a few short hours, while needing to also cook dinner, bathe them and tend to the home? For one, I can stop making dinner such a production. I think I worry too much about what I'm serving rather than focusing on who I'm breaking bread with! Family dinner should be more about the family than the dinner.  And then I need to give my boys my undivided attention - that means turning off the cell phone.  But that also means turning off the mental to-do list and setting aside anything that doesn't involve the boys. The dishes can be done after 7:45, but my boys can't stay up until then, so they dishes can wait.  Also, I can accept help when it is offered and set aside my criticism over the way the help is delivered. My way is not the only way.

I know it is going to take us some time to get used to my working again. I know I'll get used to my job and we'll find a new routine and a rhythm that works for all four of us. I also know when I'm in the wrong and when an apology is owed.  So love, this one's for you. I'm sorry I've been such a miserable wife the past day or two. I've obviously got some things to work on....

Saying Yes

So it is one thing to say you want to get out there.  It's another thing entirely to actually get out there. And I realized this morning that I am very scared to get out there.  Even though I don't have hardly any friends here and I sit in my house alone most days with the boys, I am still nervous to put myself out there.

This morning my across the street neighbor (the one who brought the cinnamon rolls and who has kids practically the same age as mine) texted me to see if I wanted to meet her and some friends for an early lunch at Chik-fil-A so the kids could play.  My initial reaction: How kind of her to think of me. My second reaction: Terror.  I'm not sure why exactly, she's super nice and friendly and was extending an invitation that I desperately need and want.  And yet rather than replying, Awesome, I'll see you there! I came up with an excuse not to go.  I'd love to, but I just got back from walking and I'm in workout clothes and unshowered, I doubt anyone would want to socialize with me like this!  (Mind you, I only had 20 minutes before the playdate so there was no time to shower).  Luckily for me, she didn't let me off that easy.  She said she'd be wearing the same thing, was unshowered, but would splurge for deodorant if it'd make me feel better, and that this was the life of a mom!

So I went. Unshowered and in yoga pants.

And it turns out she wasn't just meeting one friend, she was meeting 3 friends and their kiddos!  And I had a great time. It was nice to talk to other moms! I forget that you immediately have a connection with other moms and always have something to talk about: parenting and the kids! There are no awkward pauses wondering what to talk about. If all else fails, you just talk about the kids, but it never fails because you're always talking about the kids or being a mom in one way or another.  And that is the great thing about being a mom and meeting other moms.  Also, I have no problem talking to people I don't know - the conversation always flows, so I'm not sure why I have the paralysis when it comes to just getting out the door.

I'm glad I said yes, even if my initial response was more no than yes.  I'm glad I have a neighbor who more likely than not (hopefully anyway!) will become a friend and not just a neighbor. She and one of her friends acknowledged that they've heard it was really hard to move to Macon and not know anyone (apparently making friends in a small town can be difficult....), so they wanted to help out in any way they could.  And to top it off, I have the name of another daycare in town that I'm going to call and a potential nanny contact.  Plus all these girls go to the same church, so I'm thinking we have found the next church to check out here in town.

So things are good. I just need to say yes more often.

Getting Out There

My pity party is over. For the moment. I'm going to try to avoid them going forward.

We had a good weekend. And we were here, in Macon, the entire time. (Shock).

Husband found out about free yoga in the park on Saturday mornings and he decided I should go. I was reluctant. I made excuse after excuse: It's going to be too cold. The boys won't play in the park with you while I'm doing yoga within their line of vision. I won't be in the mood.  Keep in mind two things: 1. I LOVE yoga. 2. The reason I don't go often is that it is costly and the boys need to be watched while I'm away. Soooooo, yea, this should've been a no-brainer.  But I was nervous. I'd be walking into a group of people I'd never met and the what-ifs started.  Thankfully husband was a little insistent and Saturday morning I found myself dressed and being driven to the park, yoga mat in hand.

And you know what?  I LOVED it. I didn't actually talk to anyone, so there were no new friends made.  But I went and I had fun and I stretched my body and I breathed.  And my soul was better for it.

I then had a sort of ah ha moment: I need to stop being so afraid of getting out there.  If I'm going to make this place my home, I need to jump in. With both feet. It is hard, yes. But if I just sit inside this house all day, every day, I will never find my place here.  This is not mind-blowing stuff, but it did sort of smack me upside the head when I finally admitted to myself that I was just afraid of trying to make friends and do new things.

After yoga, the boys and I walked up to Mercer Village and had brunch in a cute little cafe/juice bar. And it was great.

Then on Sunday morning we went to church. I wasn't too jazzed about the idea. I have very mixed feelings about organized religion, especially down here in the Bible belt.  I find most Christians to not practice what they preach, and then I simple disagree with what the others believe.  So yea, church isn't something I love going to.  But here it seems that most people's social lives are connected to their church, so we thought we'd try to find a church to make some friends and meet more people.

In Atlanta we went to a Lutheran church, but the one here seemed to be small and we're not really looking for the small church thing seeing as how our motivation for going is to meet people.  BUT, we both refuse to go to a church that holds certain beliefs because, well, they're in deep contrast to what we fundamentally believe, so that knocks out a lot of deep South churches.  So we landed on an Episcopal church downtown. And they even had a family service at 9am, which meant I didn't have to worry about two loud children bothering others as they tried to pray.

The church was beautiful and we were welcomed by the clergy as we walked in.  The service had some similarities to a Lutheran service, so it wasn't completely foreign. But there was a lot of Bible references (I know, I know) and the word "dead" or "death" was mentioned many times which made me uncomfortable with Lukas sitting next to me - I'm not prepared for those questions from him yet! And the hymns were totally new to me. But it was on the short side (45 minutes), the sermon was directed at the children (be thankful for what you have/don't complain) and the message was one we've been able to continue talking about with Lukas.  The only off-putting thing was that there were maybe 30 people in the congregation.  Small is not what were going for, remember?  Womp womp.

But after the service, as we're about to leave, this guy, Brian, ran up to us and said he just wanted to come introduce himself because he'd never seen us before.  Well, long story-short, we ended up speaking to him and his wife for over thirty minutes - turns out he brews beer (like the husband) and they have two boys as well (albeit, they're in elementary school so it's not like they'd be friends).  And I was introduced to another women who happens to live about ten houses down from us on the same side of the road!  They also confirmed that the church is actually much bigger - most people just go to the later, traditional service.  They invited us to Sunday school, but that would've been a bit much for me, so we declined.  But all in all, they were so kind and welcoming and the guy even gave the hubs his number and said to call him so they could grab a beer sometime, even if we never come back to the church.  It was so nice to actually talk to people.

And so the lesson was loud and clear again; You have to get out there!  And it is not enough to just get out there, you have to make the EFFORT when you are there.  You have to talk to people.  Say hello. You may not meet your new best friend, but you might be surprised and start to feel a little more confident in your ability to make friends.

Mommy Failure

We're still in a major adjustment period.  That's what I've decided I'm calling this time where I feel like I'm drowning and have to work at putting forth a positive attitude. I'm failing at the positive thing most days. Somehow it helps me to know that I'm trying.  Like as long as I continue to be aware that I should be happy and blessed and positive, then eventually I'll feel those things and this negative 'tude I have floating around in my head will disappear.

I'm not constantly negative. I'm not about to jump off a bridge or anything. But I'm not feeling like I fit in here yet. I'm lacking friends and I'm struggling with the version of myself that I have become while on this sabbatical from work.  I think that is the biggest issue. I'm not the mom I thought I would be if I were a SAHM.

For almost 4 years I've felt guilt for working full-time and longed for more time with my children. I have that time now, and I end every day feeling like I totally, completely fucked up. I raise my voice more than I'd like to admit.  I don't have things planned for the kids to do. I turn the TV on every.single.day. I don't get them out and to the park on a regular basis.  I haven't met anyone for them to play with.  I'm not practicing Lukas' letters or doing hardly any educational activities with him. And it is all these things that I am not doing (or doing, when it comes to the yelling part), that make me feel like a shitty mom. I have this amazing opportunity to spend time with my boys and I feel like I am not making the most of it.

I know I am being harder on myself that I deserve. And I'm not giving myself recognition for all the things I am doing.  I'm cooking them good, healthy homecooked meals THREE times a day.  Something I've never done. And I'm cleaning up after those three meals (I've decided I spend half my day cooking or cleaning). I'm reading lots of books with them.  I'm giving lots of hugs and kisses and cuddles.  I'm saying lots of "I love yous".  I'm drawing with Lukas.  I'm rocking Julian before each nap.  I'm here.  My boys are with their momma.

I also know that it takes time to get settled in a new place and it takes time to form a routine and make friends. I just feel like we're moving at a snail's pace.  Lukas does start school in a week or so and I know that will help.  He does well with a routine. And he's excited to start school and meet new friends.  And Julian just rolls with the flow. I love seeing his silly smile and hearing his laugh all day long.  And my heart just melts when I feel his arms wrap around my legs when I'm standing in the kitchen cooking.

I do adore getting to spend more time with them.  I just wish I could get it together to make it more quality time.

So for all my working-mom friends, know that the grass is always greener.  Or as my old therapist used to say, the grass is always browner.

Ok, enough of my Debbie Downer for today.  It's the husband's birthday so my almost-4 year old and I are going to bake a cake.  From scratch.  Lord help us.

No Sugarcoating Here

So I've slept under this roof for ten nights now.  And as our things finally find a place within this house, it is slooooowly becoming our home. But it's been hard.  I've been a bit of an emotional wreck at times.  This started a few weeks back, even before the actual move.

The morning we closed on the house I was happy.  I was excited.  A new start.  All the good was bubbling to the surface.  And then I drove home (i.e. to Atlanta) a few hours later to spend the weekend with my best girlfriends from law school to celebrate the upcoming arrival of a new baby boy.  He's my friend's first baby.  And I won't be in the same city anymore to just drop by on a whim and hold him.

A few hours into the evening I was hit with a panic attack. A slow wave of anxiety rolled in and it simply wouldn't leave. I was with friends I've known for 10 years.  People I love and trust. But I couldn't shake this awful feeling and pounding in my heart. As the minutes ticked away I kept trying to tell myself that I was fine.  I knew this was just anxiety, but I couldn't stop the feeling. Eventually, after midnight, I got in my car and drove to my parents so I could sleep in the same bed with my husband and wake up to my boys' smiling faces.  It is hard to admit that I couldn't shake it on my own.  That I needed my husband to make it all okay. But that night, that's what I needed.

Looking back, I think that night it hit me (maybe subconsciously if not consciously) that the signing of the papers to purchase the house meant we were really moving. And that the time was coming quickly.  It is one thing to anticipate a big change. It is quite another thing when it actually happens.

Thankfully that's been the only major anxiety I've had in the past month, but there have been bouts of sadness and tears.  I'm frustrated not knowing where anything is - a good park, the best coffee shop, a dry cleaners.  And it's hard going from working full time to staying-at-home with two small children.  I know that part is temporary and there have been many moments of joy in my current SAHM role and I love most days of it, but it's isolating. Many days the only adult I talk to is my husband when he gets home from work.  It is a massive change.  So much change at once.

I know. I know I will make friends.  I know the boys will make friends.  I know we will make a life here and I know I will be happy.  But this starting over part is rough.  It's scary to reach out to friends-of-friends and hope you make a connection. You second guess if the neighbor who came over with cinnamon rolls and offered you her phone number and said to call if you need anything really meant it. At this point, I know it won't hurt to try.  But it's still hard to put yourself out there.

The House: BEFORE Pictures

From the street.  We loved the Tudor style

Family room/den: The dark wood was screaming "paint me please!"

Sunroom which is now a playroom

Eat-in kitchen.  Please note the wallpaper.

Eat in kitchen looking into the kitchen.  First order of business was removing the cabinet obstructing the view into the kitchen.  It has made a HUGE difference.

Kitchen.  At least the countertops are granite.  Sort of makes up for the 11 inch deep cabinets.

Kitchen again.

Guest room.  They had changed the lovely blue carpet for white, but the brown walls still remained...

Downstairs bathroom wallpaper and fixture. She loved wallpaper. 

Formal Living room.  I wish this were a better picture so you could really grasp the impact of the red walls.

Formal dining.  Red walls again.

Bar.  The wallpaper still remains.  I'm thinking of keeping it.  #kidding

The bar light.  It will remain.  I actually love it. It's sort of kitsch.

Fireplace in the master.

Backyard - which is actually great.

Backyard

Boys' bathroom tile.  Master bath tile. Parquet floors downstairs. Guest bath tile.

So she needs some love.  A facelift if you will.  We've already painted most of the house and taken down the wallpaper, which has made a HUGE difference.  We're thinking a full kitchen renovation is in order, but are not ready to tackle that just yet.  However, more more burnt dinner in my 1970s oven and we may get there.

It's a work in progress, but it's our home.