A House Is Not A Home

The movers come in two days.

We are moving closer to hubby's work... We almost sold the house but for several reasons decided against it. We are renting it out and renting a place in Concord.

I am so sad. I love my house. I love my neighborhood. I love living so close to my family and close friends. I love my house.

I've been trying to figure out my attachment to this house. It's not like I haven't moved before. I have moved eight times that I recall. Apparently two other times that I was too young to remember.

I think this is the first place I have felt at home since I was 7. When I was seven we moved to a new house an hour from the old one. I felt very lonely. At the new house my parents divorced.

As part of the divorce agreement my parents sold the house and we moved with mom to a rental in the middle of nowhere. I felt lonely and out of place. I think I hid it well - generally a go-getter, but inside I was lonely and didn't feel like I fit in. I think that was why I tried so hard to make LOTS of friends and participate in activities, but I still didn't feel like I fit in.

At 15 we moved in with my dad. My dad was always my imaginary kinght in shining armor and I loved living with him. It also gave me a fresh start when I needed it. But, I was always very aware that he didn't ask us to live with him. It was necessity. And I was old enough to realize that my dad was not a knight.

I moved back in with my mom shortly after getting engaged to hubby. I bounced between her apartment and his. After the wedding I moved into hubby's little apartment. We lived there for about 6 months and then rented a furnished house from his parents.

My mother-in-law, who is a very dear friend, is the queen of clean. She also knew the right way for the house to be set up. She tried very hard to not intrude but she really couldn't help herself and usually didn't even realize what she was doing. It had been her house and her furniture for years and she was dealing with the loss of that while they lived on the road in a motor home for business purposes. I can't count the number of times she and I moved the kitchen table back and forth 2 inches over the seven years we lived there. She thought the middle of the table should line up off of the railing in the room. I liked it 2 inches to the right so it wasn't so close to the pantry. I think it took 5 years for me to finally get the nerve to ask her to stop moving it. She was embarrassed that she had never realized I had it where I wanted it.

Our marriage went through allot in that house. We did allot of growing up and growing apart and then together again. For years I had wanted to move to Sacramento to be closer to family and friends. Hubby finally consented and we went house hunting. We went through 7 houses before we found this one. After seeing 4 with a realtor we struck out with friends and literally found this house at the end of a rainbow. We added it to our realtor list the next day. It was the 4th house of the day and when we walked in we knew it was home. We made the offer, signed the papers and 2 weeks later closed escrow. I had my home. [Pause to cry.]

We've lived here seven years. Three months after moving in I was pregnant. It was so funny bringing biggest home from the hospital. We got home and then didn't know where to put him while we had dinner. We settled him on the bouncy seat and had Thai food while watching a movie. Littlest was born in the dining room. We had a planned home birth with a set of wonderful midwives. A friend of ours loves to point it out during dinner parties. We went through very good financial times and very bad financial times when the house equity was the tool God used to keep us afloat. Now we are moving.

Friends keep pointing out that "at least you are keeping the house", which is true. We may come back to it, we may not. But while I have been here I have felt safe. I have felt like I belong. I have been at home.

I am praying that God will help me feel at home in the house we are going to. I don't love the house. I don't love the neighborhood. I don't love the area. But I love my hubby and I miss him. I love my boys and they need to see more of their daddy. I love my God and I trust that he will work this together for good. I just want to be home.

Budding Songwriter

This morning Littlest told me it was a day to sing to God. He sat on the floor with a piece of scratch paper in front of him, his ukulele in hand and an improvised pick and started to play and sing. I wrote as fast as I could to keep up with his songs:


Song for God

We love God because
he has more power than us.
We have no power
but he does.

He made the whole wold (world).
He has more power than us
He made the plants.

Song for Jesus

We love Jesus
and he's God
and it's right to trust God.

(Followed by a speaking part while he was strumming away but I couldn't keep up him)

God

We trust God because
he says he's with us in the dark.
If you get scared he'll come and bring his angels.
He'll come for us if we're scared in the dark.

Punk Rock Mommy

I know, I know... I've been away for a long time. Theoretically in about 2 months I'll have time to start blogging again. In the meantime...

Andrea Collins Smith has been a tremendous blessing to our family.

She and hubby's cousin, Kelly, met over 3 years ago. Kelly is one of the sweetest guys I have ever met. But, he is not typical to our friends or family. His background is tough - not that that is atypical - and he has had trouble finding his place in this world. Andrea gave him that place. She also brought him to what none of the rest of us could... a relationship with Jesus Christ.

Andrea was an amazing single mother of 5. She and Kelly got married a couple of years ago and last October baby #6 arrived (2 weeks early at a petite 10 pounds - biggest baby in the NICU). Their family is wonderful. And from what I can tell, they are perfect for each other.

Last month Andrea was diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC). At this point she is undergoing chemotherapy. She is facing a mastectomy and radiation after that. They are being hit hard. They are holding strong in their faith and each other.

A friend of theirs set up a blog for them to follow their journey through postings and pictures. If anyone still reads this blog and would like to know more of Kelly, Andrea and their journey through IBC they can do so at www.punkrockmommy.org.