Well, we've moved

It's funny how the place you grew up can seem so foreign and so terribly exactly familiar at the same time.

We're renting a house, a big, huge (comparatively), old (comparatively) house that echos because of the hard wood floors and lack of furniture. The carpet smells like pee (how did I not notice that?) and all 3 of my boys have been congested and sneezy since we moved in. There are boxes on nearly every horizontal surface and it takes an awful lot of planning to take a shower. The internet wasn't really hooked up and I haven't been able to work. The kitchen has an alarming lack of cabinet space and somehow I can't fit anywhere near what I fit in my tiny townhouse kitchen. The swamp cooler blocks the view from the kitchen window and the bedrooms are already hot enough to make me want to run naked down the street (kidding. an old family joke.) The apples have fallen off the tree so fast I can't keep up with chucking them to the over-growing bad-apple pile on the side of the house. Tommy has yet to sleep longer than 8 hours/night. That child NEEDS his sleep. Poor thing is miserable. And so are we.

BUT.....

When we showed up with a truckload of boxes and heavy furniture we were greeted by no less than 10 (but probably more like 15) strapping men (strangers!) ready and willing to help.

I attended the General RS Meeting with my family for the first time in (4?) years. And it was lovely.

My boys have fallen in love with my parents. All 3 of my boys. Not that they didn't like them before, but living there has only bonded them more. In ways I never dreamed. Plus I (sortof) got over my ridiculously irrational fear of swings and even let my dad give them underdogs.

Tommy and I sit on the porch during John's afternoon nap and spray the hose at the bushes, or take turns blowing bubbles until we're light-headed, or scribbling on the sidewalk with no fear of an HOA fine.

Wood floors (while creating an echo) make an AWESOME race track for cars.

A cricket which, based it's volume, must be large enough to fill Noah's Ark entirely on its own, has a nest just outside our bedroom window. I didn't realize that we'd been sleeping in silence for so long. I've missed the nighttime noises of a house surrounded by nature. (Grass! Trees! Weeds! Sprinklers! oops)

Macey's. 8 minutes from home. True story.

So like most things in life - there's balance.

Things I learned this weekend:

• John, who is a quiet baby back in our regular ward is a very noisy child when he's the only one. Likewise, links are a noisy toy. And the people in this ward want to listen to the lesson, so you sometimes get the stink eye if you stay in with a noisy baby. 
• Tommy can handle change better than I thought. He loved nursery, he loves his gramma's bed and he has only had a couple of meltdowns asking to go home and see his friends. 
• BYU football is mandatory viewing with my parents. Unless you wanna mow the lawn instead. (You don't. It's big.)
• We are welcome here.
• Bike rides are more fun on a long straight trail than they are on roads.

It's been one more on the list of long and exhausting weekends, but the good news is that we are still here. And we'll likely survive all the crazy.

Rejected

The day we moved out of our home in North Salt Lake I had a tiny breakdown (or 20) because I can't stand to leave Salt Lake. Mostly because of our friends there. Also because I love Salt Lake. It has been my home since I grew up and moved out. And it is the only home my boys know. And I love it there.

I also love Utah County. It's beautiful and filled with my family and familiar places from my childhood. But......so far I mostly just want to go home. And it would appear that Utah County wants me to go home too.

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I hate the freeway here, everything is under construction and you have to know 10 miles ahead of time which lane you want to be in to go the right way. Not only can you not get OFF the freeway and headed the right direction without inside knowledge, but you can't avoid getting ON the freeway if you're anywhere near it.

I am not a good driver and I don't love driving. Especially in places that I'm not familiar with. So I had a tiny "Utah County hates me" moment after being forced onto and not being able to get off the freeway when the last thing I had was time for a tour of I-15 construction.

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Then our first night here John (who has been mildly sick for like 2 weeks) woke up with a raging fever and a very difficult time breathing and I spent most of the first night here in the ER. Which is where I learned that we weren't giving him anywhere near enough drugs to control the fever and that everything else was totally fine with him. "He's perfect" the Dr. told me, then we chatted it up about triathlons. Most expensive tylenol instructions ever. The good news is, of course, that he's perfect.

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I've been back and forth between Salt Lake and my parents' house AT LEAST once a day since we left, for one thing or another.

Somehow in Davis County everything is better. I went to the court house to pay a speeding ticket far more than the 14 days later. You don't get tickets all the time? You didn't know you have to pay it between 5 and 14 days after getting it? Well, aren't you glad you came here today to learn something new? I beat the mail man by what couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Beating the mailman there saved me a late fee and a court appearance explaining my flakiness to the Judge. Davis County loves me.

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Furthering the love, the people adding some duct work to my house magically have openings "right now" to take care of everything I need before our renters move in.

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But in Utah County the free storage unit costs me money, the freeway won't let me off, nobody wants us to be their tenants and my computer suddenly forgets how to function.

What's that thing about being rejected like a bad organ transplant? That's what I am. A bad organ transplant.

I honestly feel like there is a place for us here - I just haven't found it yet. And the looking is wearing me down.

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The good (and non-whiny) news is:
That we are surrounded by friends and family who are meeting our every need.
No matter how much I joke about it we aren't actually homeless.
My boys love being here. All of them. Josh is just 10 minutes away from the new job, Tommy has a trampoline and swingset, John has doting grandparents and we all have a hot meal every night. What's not to love?

Challenging Race: Success

August's goal was to register for a challenging race.

After spending too much time with my overachieving brother who just did the Seattle to Portland bike ride I was confident I could train for a rock a Sprint Triathlon. So I waited for August and registered for my local Labor Day Tri.

Nailed it!

For some reason I said all I had to do was register for the race in August, and since the race was technically in September that was good. I definitely DEFINITELY registered for a challenging race.

And then I even trained for it. Sortof. Except that for the 2 weeks leading up to the event I did not swim, bike or run even once. I was woefully unprepared, but determined to finish.

I had no time goals, in fact because I felt so (unnecessarily) rushed in my novice tri back in May (no need to rush when you aren't going to win anything anyway....right?) I was more determined to go slow and feel good than I was to hurry through any of it.

I walked through transitions, took my time getting a drink drying off and double knotting my shoes. I rode my bike at a very leisurely pace while listening to mormon messages and "la dee da ing" through the whole thing. I begged my mom to come run the run part with me knowing very well that I'd need extra motivation to survive. We walked the majority of the "run" and anytime my legs felt even a little sore we stopped to walk.

My adoring fans

But when I rounded the corner to the finish line there were my friends (and their spouses!) cheering me on and I got a medal. I was very close to dead last, I still didn't feel great (did I mention that I'd been sick for the weeks leading up to the race? and moving? and terribly undertrained?), but I was thrilled to have finished. And maybe someday I'll be all hardcore and train for and do better at one. But not this year.

Just 2 of the 5 other people in my neighborhood participating. Party at the tri!!!

Because this year I'm just stoked to have completed what is very much a real tri.

Time

Time is a funny thing.

A month ago Josh found out he got a job.
2 days later he started that job. Those 2 days felt long and were filled with excitement and nervousness.

A week later we listed our house for sale and had a couple of showings right off the bat. The days of the showings seemed to both drag on and fly by. Dragging because there are only 2 activities that keep 2 year olds occupied and living rooms clean. Flying by because nothing was really clean and there simply wasn't enough time. The days following those showings were painfully slow because I checked my e-mail and phone every 3 seconds to make sure I hand't missed something important.

One of those showings turned out to be our current renters.

We signed a lease on Wednesday, looked for places to live on Thursday and Friday and moved on Saturday.

It is no small miracle (the miracle of having generous and hard-working friends) that we are out of our house.

A few of my dear friends came and helped me pack up my mess of house. These women are clearly experts in packing, organizing and getting it done. What would I do without friends? Answer: I'd still be crying in a ball on the floor of my closet because I don't know whether or not to put totes in boxes. Thank you friends for making all the hard decisions for me. 

Then a bunch more friends and family members came on Saturday and loaded a truck, provided an extra trailer, and went WELL above and beyond the call helping pack and dissemble furniture getting us gone.

As if that wasn't enough kindness and generosity my parents somehow cleared out a couple of bedrooms for the 4 of us to occupy while we look for our place to live.

We've found lots of places we could live, but we haven't found the right place for us to go yet. We've been too slow on a couple and too fast on others, we've gone back and forth on price ranges we're looking in and I personally have walked through something like 25 homes and apartments in the past 14 days. We've seen dishwashers planted in living rooms hooked up to swamp coolers and we've seen places up on the hill with jetted tubs and huge yards.

Yesterday I thought we had found the perfect place. It's weird. It's round. Seriously, a round house. The rooms are a little pie shaped and there are secret storage areas behind secret walls in the closets. But I thought it might be the one. Until the owner told us they found someone who wanted to lease-to-own it. Denied.

And so we're back to square one. And I'm forced to decide (again) whether I should spend my time unpacking and getting settled here or scouring the internet for rental properties.

It's exhausting. All of it.

But at the end of the day, we're living with 2 of the best people on the planet (hi mom and dad!) in the perfect neighborhood with everything we could ever want. Including built in babysitters after bedtime.

Not a bad way to do homeless. Not bad at all.