2010 has not been a fun year. It's been a year of loss, death, grief, confusion, financial worries, broken cars, physical discomfort and spiritual struggles.
On the flip side, sometime during the first two weeks of Jan, 2010, we found out that Jamie was on his way.
This month marks the end of a year with our sweet surprise. So I will, in faith, lay this year to rest in my memory as The Year of Jamie. He is, in a way, a little symbolic of all the many other things that shook up our cozy little world this year-- unexpected, yet welcomed; painful in his advent, but bringing great joy.
Here is a taste of his sweet spirit; playing a game I've played with each of the kids starting while they're still in utero:
James Oliver Forshey, who made you?
Mama loves you, and Daddy loves you, Sofi loves you, and Judah loves you...
Since we've been in Florida people repeatedly ask us if we miss the weather in Va. My answer: not at all. I miss manymany things about my old home, but certainly not the weather.
In the summer in Va, depending on how far north you are, it can get every bit as hot and humid as it was here in Orlando this year. And in addition, we never had air conditioning anywhere we lived. In Florida, we have air conditioning AND a pool. Nope. I don't miss our Virginia summers.
In Hburg we had our first snow every year within a week of Thanksgiving. Maybe not much, probably just a few flurries, but snow, nonetheless. And EVERY YEAR all the longtime locals would walk around shaking their heads and going, "Can't believe it's snowing already! It never snows this early 'round here." EVERY YEAR. For nine years. And I bet at least two people are going to respond to this post by saying, "What are you TALKING about? It never snows that early here!"
In Florida, we went swimming the day before Thanksgiving. Not for very long, granted, and it was certainly cold, but still... Actually, to be perfectly honest, I didn't get in above my knees, but the kids swam for twenty minutes! So no, I don't miss Virginia winters.
But then this morning we woke up from a night of lows in the twenties, J turned on the heat before leaving for work (first time we've used it) and I made the kids cocoa for breakfast. Something about the combination of smells-- the hot cocoa, the just-turned-on-heat, the cooooold air swooshing in the door as he left for work... Suddenly I realized I was feeling just a little nostalgic, if not quite exactly for the weather we're missing, at least for that familiar feeling of being cozied up inside, out of the elements, safe and warm against the Winter.
We all have bad days, right? Of course right. But it seems especially unfair, spectacularly unfair, when that bad day falls on a Sabbath. It started with a long, sleepless night and just went downhill from there.
Judah had a meltdown at church resulting in J having to spend the entire service in the back of the church calming him down. This is the happy child we're talking about here. Judah is not the moody type. He rarely actually Cries. Whining we deal with-- it's a family besetting sin (well, not J, just the rest of us), but the crying? that's not like him. He wailed heartbreakingly when dropped off and after about five minutes, J just went in and got him.
I just know it's the move and the unsettled-ness getting to him. He was never like this at church back home. He spent the rest of the day being super clingy and wanting to sit on me, talking about our old house and his friends and asking for Violet to come see him. We got on Skype with the Other Forsheys and chatted for a while and he was so precious ooing and aaaahing over Grace-- whom he ADORED from the moment he first saw her, just a few moments after she was born. He told me that God told him He was going to give Violet "lotsalotsalotsa money to buy a aaaaeeerplane, so she can come see me in Flooooda"
And then all the trickiness I've been trying to balance with neighbor kids came to a bit of a head and I had to call Sofi in from playing Chicken (!!!!) in the pool with the neighbor boys (!!!) , riding on the shoulders of a neighborhood dad (!!!). And somehow I had to find a way to explain that Ladies don't play chicken in the pool with boys while riding on the shoulders of men we don't know. *sigh* Never an easy conversation to have with your 8 yo. And yes, we'd given her permission to play in the pool with the gang of kids and adults out there. It's right off our front porch after all, and one of the dads we know vaguely had offered to be responsible for her. Apparently our version of "responsible" and his version were... not the same.
We were supposed to have dinner with some new friends, but by 4:00 in the afternoon, after the conversation with Sofi, and a parental conference over Judah's anxiety issues, and a failed attempt at a nap (for me), and the gradually increasing stranglehold of a headcold (J), and Jamie's constant bone-crushing roller-coaster imitation (me) had all worked their magic, we decided that it might be just a bit much. So we didn't go. And not-going made us both feel a little lonely and a little more aware of just how soon (pleaseLordpleasemakeitsoonAmen) we'd being entering that fatigue-crazed labyrinth of new-baby-ness without the safety net of a settled church family.
And someone sang Be Thou My Vision at the offertory this morning and it was beautiful. And I cried. Still. I think I will never be able to hear that song again without thinking of that tiny wooden box and the room full of mourners trying so hard to find words to say, to express what their hearts were feeling. That one line:
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall....
It stabs me to the heart. To think that they choose to claim that, even in the midst of heart-crushing grief-- such faith awes me and touches me and I want so much to be there with her, for her. But I can't.
So, so much has changed so veryvery quickly for our family this year. I still feel as though I'm standing in one of those hourglasses with the sand running rapidly through, out from under my feet and I'm clinging to the slippery glass walls trying to find a way to keep from getting sucked through. I just haven't had the time and the space to process it all, to "adjust". Someone asked us this morning when we decided to move and J said the end of March and it hit me. Bam. March, April, May, June, July, August. Six months. Half a year. That's all. In six months we went from normal Us, to something that, on a Bad Day, I don't even recognize anymore.
I recognize that bad days come and go and there are also beautiful Florida days, when the kids are happy and Jamie is still and tranquil, the contractions are mild, J gets home early and I remember that "...the lines have fallen to me in pleasant places". I am so thankful for all that the Lord has worked in our lives in these six short months.
But some days, I just want some time to sit and think. And some days I just want to go out for coffee at Organic Grounds. Or drop in on the Trainums. Or run into friends at the Farmer's Market. Or call Laurie up and go buy some plants. Or put up a post on Facebook to meet me at the library in twenty minutes and see who shows up!
I think I should go to bed now and see if things look any better in the morning.
We saw four houses tonight, but these were the only two that didn't get crossed of the list right away. I'm linking to the Photobucket album, is you want to see the pics and video I took, but in summary (for those of you with dial-up--- Mom):
This one is my favorite. Matter of fact, it's bumped up to the top of my list-- all time. I like the wood trim, the extra room, the KITCHEN (omg. the KITCHEN-- and the cabinets!! Cabinets out the wazoo AND a PANTRY), the fireplace in the dining room, the stained glass windows in the "study" and beside the front door. Another feature that I didn't photograph; there's a very small bdr, kinda hidden away on the other side of the master bath. So you walk through the MBR and the MBTH and then there's a sliding door to a bdr, about 9X9ft (5 "bdrs" total-- although one would be used as an office/guest room). Perfect for a baby's room! Also, there's tons of space around the pool (a safety issue for me-- I don't like the feeling that you walk out the back door and fall linto the pool, as we've seen in several houses so far) and plenty of room for gardening! Love the shutters and the brick pillars in the front.
Cons: No outside entrance to a bathroom (means wet swimsuits traipsing daily through the house to the bathroom), no appliances (not too big a deal), no pool screen-- bummer.
This is J's favorite. :) You can probably all tell why. He's the realistic one that looks at a house like this and says, "What?? It's in perfect condition, we could move in tomorrow, it's in our price range and the pool is SCREENED IN!! What more could you want???" And I grant you, it's truly lovely. And I'm a fool for preferring one that needs a little TLC. BUT. I can't help myself. I think it's a family curse. I want a house with character-- brick and hardwood and stained glass, you know? This one has brand-new tile, laminate (*gags*) and a HOT TUB. Right outside the MBR :D The kitchen has brand-new modern appliances and a built in desk, granite counter tops and a wet-bar in the living room. There is a truly SJP-worthy walk-in closet in the MBR and spotless paint on the walls.
But it's also $20K more than the other one. And it doesn't have a brick surround in the kitchen. Or stained glass windows. Or much room in the back yard.
*sigh*
Ok. Opinions, people. I need opinions!!!!!!! Fire away!
So, this house wouldn't really have been in contention with our previous top choices. BUT. Just as we were leaving-- and after I'd already tossed the camera into the front seat of the Honda, so sorry, no pics-- we noticed a sign across the street (right across the street-- direct line from the front door) for "Dew Drop Park". We've lived in Orlando for a month and a half now, but our first reaction was still something like nonchalance. Meh. A park. In the middle of a suburban neighborhood. Probably cute, a few swings, no big deal.
You'd think we'd have learned by now.
We trudged over and Oh My. What a jewel of a park! A lake! Tennis courts! Volleyball court! TWO full-sized playgrounds! Pavillions! Clean bathrooms! Wow. Orlando is the city of parks, that's for sure. They're everywhere, and they're beautiful.
So now I feel like, despite the general blah of this house, I can't quite cross that park off our list. And, as you can see from pics above, it is pretty blah. No extra perks. No backyard-- pool takes up the whole thing. It does have a grapefruit tree on the side, and the curb appeal is pretty good. I love the wrought iron. But the inside is just... you know. Blah. And it's a little pricey.
So it's technically still on the list, but... I guess I just don't see it working out for us. We'll see.
As I posted on FB the other day, we went house-hunting on Sunday! We saw about seven or so houses before the kids totally melted down, so we'll go back and see a few more this afternoon.
Before we start our tour, let me remind you that we are specifically looking for a house that needs some cosmetic work. That's our speciality. We buy crappy looking houses, that have good foundations and "bones" and then we give 'em a makeover :) I'm sure you remember all the before and after shots from our Hburg house... So keep that in mind when you look at the following pics. J says I have an "orphaned puppy fixation" when it comes to houses :) The worse it looks up front, the more likely I am to want to buy it and "take it home to love on".
I didn't get a whole lot of pics... it's hard for me to remember to take shots when I'm concentrating so hard on taking it all in, you know? But I'll include the url to the listing for each house and y'all can go there and see better/more pics. How 'bout that?
It was in the nicest shape-- basically move-in ready. J and I both loved the great room,
(view of the g-r from the kitchen window)
the fireplace and beadboard in the dining room,
and the pool area.
My brain started buzzing right away with plans for the terraced area behind the pool-- ummm, yummy :)
Cons: I really don't like so much carpeting (although J does) and the bdrs were the smallest we saw. Really small. Really too small for two boys sharing a room. But it was at the top of the list for a while. And it's still high-ish :)
The kids called it The Yellow House :) I lovelovelove the front yard-- especially the big old magnolia out front.
(entryway-- so blurry, but you can make out the cute wainscoting)
The neighborhood is beautiful-- lots of lovely front yards along the block for inspiration. I liked the layout better than Jericho Dr, and the house just felt more spacious in general. The yard is also bigger, with a beautiful fountain beside the pool and more space for swings and general running around.
But, after getting home and doing some research on "terrazzo floors", and pouring over photos and notes, I think both J and I agree that this one is at the top of our list, currently:
It needs a lot more work than the others, but it has the most sq footage and so much potential. For starters, there are the floors. Original terrazzo throughout the majority of the house-- and the carpet's already been torn out.
The MBR will need carpeting (it's part of an addition, we think) and the kitchen has just been re-tiled already (over the terrazzo :P ). The bdrs are several feet bigger in both directions, the MBR suite is nice and big and has a brand-newly renovated bath-- with a JACUZZI!! The pool is much bigger than average (that we've been seeing), although the yard is tiny. The front yard is pretty large, so we'd end up doing some re-orienting toward the front. There's also beautiful molding, a built in hutch in the dining room,
french doors to a partially converted garage that could be finished into a man cave/rec room/play room. There's pool access to one of the bathrooms and the MBR has glass doors that open out onto the pool, as well :)
Here's a link (I didn't take any pics) to another one we saw. We liked it, and it's still on the list, but those great pics you see on the listing? Those were taken when it was still owner-occupied-- months ago. Since then it's been foreclosed on and the owners gutted it when they moved out. Took out fixture, appliances and it's been neglected and empty for months. Doesn't look nearly as nice anymore. And the walls have this weird rough plaster thing going on, with, get this, ROPE glued into the wall corners like you'd put up molding, KWIM? And it's all bright red.
Well. Ok. Maybe that's an overstatement. Just a little.
But it wasn't a good day. It's was a day where, by five o-clock, I decided to just give up and go ahead and have a good cry. Which, at seven months pregnant and moving into a strange town, I feel I deserve now and again.
First: We lost Judah. Only for about fifteen minutes, but those were a veeery loooong fifteen minutes, let me tell you. He rode his scooter to the end of the sidewalk outside our back door and then couldn't remember how to get back to the house from there (it's only about fifteen feet, but he's new here). So he turned left and kept on going. And kept turning left or right when he got to the end of the sidewalk until he was completely outside the little enclave of enclosed courtyards that we depend on to keep the kids "safe". This neighborhood is very "woodsy", with lots of trees and shrubs, which is great-- beautiful!-- but meant that within five minutes (the time it took Sofi, who was out playing with him, to come in and put on her bathing suit, and us to realize she was in here and he was not) he was completely out of sight and hearing.
My easy-going, laid-back, calm husband gets very... intense... in moments like these. In my small-town naivete, I didn't fully grasp the gravity of the situation until he came back in and said, Get dressed, I can't see him anywhere, and then threw on his sneakers and ran back out.
We walked/ran up and down the maze of sidewalks, calling for him in carefully non-panicking voices and then, there he was. Still on the tricycle. Totally safe, although a little nervous. He'd been calling for Daddy, once he realized that he couldn't find our house-- which looks exactly identical to all the other hundreds of houses here.
Second; I took on the daunting task of grocery shopping in a New City. I am a creature of habit in grocery shopping. If you look at the roadways of the 'Burg, you may actually see a rut from my car wheels traveling the exact same path from store to store every week. The same items-- each from the store I know always carries them at the best price. Nine years of shopping at the same stores every week.
So today, newspaper circulars in hand, I sat down to make a list of prices and locations and map out my new route with the GPS. Only problem is, the GPS doesn't take into account what sort of neighborhoods it takes you through.
Twenty minutes after I left my house, I found myself walled in by concrete traffic barriers and cones. Looming over them were more concrete walls, covered in graffiti and filth. Trash everywhere and a general air of decay and want.
And then the car reminded me that we're not entirely sure that it's fixed yet. And I was afraid to even check my cell phone battery. Not that it would do any good, since the truck's in the shop and J's at home with both kids and no way to get to me before the muggers do.... *PREGNANT WOMAN PANIC*
I made it to the grocery store, which was also a little shady-looking, and then home (by a different route-- thanks to Google) and then burst into tears in the driveway.
All the way home I kept thinking, I have no idea how to do this. I've never lived in a city even remotely close to this size. When I moved to the 'Burg as a new bride, it seemed like a huge city to me. Our town had about 400 residents. How can I possibly learn to live in Orlando? With three kids? What if I do something stupid, like forget to check on them every two-and-a-half minutes? What if I forget to lock our car door? (We never locked our doors back home) What if I let them get too far away from me in the grocery store? What if I try to get someplace in town with the GPS and then run out of gas in a place like I saw today? What if....???
I just have no instincts about these things. All my life I've lived in small-town places where people were generally trustworthy and honest. Our kids have played out on the sidewalk with minimal supervision their whole lives-- trusting to their adherence to a set of boundaries, which they almost never crossed. I send Sofi two or three aisles away in the store to grab me something in another category. I let her take Judah to the back of Big Lots to ogle the toys while I shop. I sometimes leave them in the car while I run into the Post Office.
This place scares me. In the back of my mind are murmurings of the promises of the Lord, but right now the fears are muchmuch louder.
Here's a virtual tour so y'all can see our new digs! Despite the thousands of dollars in unexpected car repairs over the last week, we've been blessed amazingly by this new home. It's really beautiful. Give me another two hundred square feet in the shape of some more closets and another two bedrooms and I'd be set for good.
(blogger's not letting me post the tour of the bedrooms... let me see if I can get that fixed while y'all enjoy the rest!) (eta: you can go watch the tour here in the meantime)
I don't think, Laura, you knew when you gave me that little magnet just how significant it would become to me in the next week :) I've been holding onto that quote, and the promise the Lord seemed to give us with Jamie's name, tight with both hands for this whole last week. And it hasn't stopped yet. J is semi-stranded back in Savannah, Ga in an attempt to retrieve our delinquent, and supposedly repaired, Honda. It wasn't, and might not yet be, safe to drive. Not sure when he'll be home....
This morning, before even breakfast, the kids were already squabbling. They've been consistently getting on each other's nerves since about half-way through North Carolina.
I was feeling a little down. It's our first Sunday here and I miss my church family. We're going to visit a PCA church here, and I know there will be some familiar things-- communion, the creeds, the hymns (thank the Lord for universal symbols of the Faith). But in large part, it will be strange and new.
So I decided to make myself some grits. You know, comfort food. 'Cause everyone knows that there's nothing like grits and eggs to heal pretty much any existential angst. (Can I get an amen??)
But then I spilled the grits all over the kitchen floor. I went to vacuum it up. And let me tell you, this is a small kitchen. There simply isn't room for me, baby and a vacuum. I knocked the crisp, perfectly browned bacon on the floor. I vacuumed that up, made more grits, kept my chin up. And then I realized that we were out of butter.
At that point I had two options; a good hard cry, or a blog post. I chose the blog post, because, you know, mascara... and a new church... gotta make an impression...
Do not throw an "accident" outfit into a plastic bag and toss it in the trunk of the car, assuming you'll launder it at the first stop on the trip. You will not. You will forget it's there, uncovering it four days later, now morphed into an ammonia-reeking ball of molding fabric. The smell will nearly take your life, leaving your children mother-less and your husband a widower. It's totally not worth it.
Do not assume that just because your husband's car broke down this morning, your car is safe for at least a couple days. Apparently 20 minutes is sufficient for Karma to re-set. Also do not assume that, just because you had it in to the dealership two days ago, that same car can't possibly have actually just died on you in the middle of in-town traffic.
Don't assume that since your car broke down once already, and the mechanics assured you that it was merely a "sensor problem", it won't happen again. And again. And again. And then once more.
Out of town car repairs are expensive.
Trading in a busted Honda Civic for a larger vehicle is expensive.
New timing chains for Toyota pick-ups are expensive, despite the slightly trailer-trash ambiance.
Do not expect toddlers to sleep on the road.
Ever.
Not even after midnight.
Be thankful he's in the other vehicle.
Never underestimate the gastrointestinal effect of irregular meals and too much fast food on said toddler. Underestimate, as in "not put on a diaper at naptime". Even if he never wears a diaper at naptime any more.
Never, ever say "well, shucks, I was kinda hoping some of this stuff would actually break in the move so I would have an excuse to throw it out and replace it with something nice". The very next box will contain a treasured wedding present, shattered to bits. Take my word for it.
40 boxes of books is insane. Impressive, and a good conversation starter, and even possibly helpful in labeling yourself part of the "In Crowd" in a roomful of academics...yes. Sane? No.
Next time, buy matching book cases.
If your husband agrees to sell the old couch, which isn't worth the price of the space in the U-Haul truck, and replace it when you get there with something nicer; don't assume he actually heard the second part of that sentence.
Jenny asked yesterday on FB what our plan is for the move. Of course, plans around here are in a constant state of flux and did not originally include a) the clutch dying on our car on Tuesday, or b) me coming down with some kind of insane sinus condition on Sunday, or c) weather hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk.
Nevertheless! We press onward with tentative planning because we are homo sapiens and planning is what separates us from the apes. So here's the plan:
We will pick up the U-Haul truck on Sunday, early afternoon. Packing starts at 3 (with lotsalotsa help from friends and church family, right guys????). Rumor has it that a good friend is planning to feed everyone afterwards and give us a chance to say our last goodbyes. We'll camp out in the house Sunday night, tying up all the loose ends early Monday in time for the final walk-through. Closing is Monday at four, after which we'll head South! First stop off in Lynchburg to say our goodbyes to J's parents. Then to Danville to spend the night with my parents. Tuesday, on to South Carolina and J's grandparents. Wednesday, we spend the night in a hotel in Lake Mary, a short distance from our final destination of Winter Park.
We'll arrive at our new, but temporary home at Sorrento Apartments in Winter Park early-ish on Thursday morning, unload the truck (with help from our new Florida Friends) and take a nice long SWIM!!!
Long-term plans include frantic house-hunting in an attempt to be in a permanent place before Jamie makes his debut, but that's in the Lord's hands and we really have NO idea of the timing on all that.
So there you have it, in a nutshell, our tentative plans for The Big Move. Stay tuned to hear all the last- minute revisions and scrambling...
It's been nearly a month since I last posted. A month full of the most unbelievable heights and depths of human experience. In the last month we have...
mourned the too, too early passing of sweet Gwenyth and her Aunt Marie
greeted the LATE arrival of Lilah Grace
said hello and then goodbye again to a brother/uncle/friend
named our son; James Oliver Forshey ("Jamie")
sold our house
found an apartment
met new friends, here and in Orlando-- both
packed our house
begun to say goodbye to all our friends, family and dear ones here in Virginia
As I look around me at the detritus of the last nine years of my life, I am often overwhelmed with sadness. In so many way, the timing of this move seems to be so horribly bad that it cannot possibly be the will of God for us. Leaving Hburg right now, practically on the eve of the birth of our third child, at a time when my sister needs my help and comfort, when our dear friends are floundering in such depths of grief, when our church is growing and blooming and our family has set down such deep roots of friendships here...
And yet, at every step of the way, we have laid the decisions on the altar and let the Lord choose for us. And He has led us inexorably toward this moment. Time after time, we've come to a crossroad and haven't known whether to go left or right, and at the crucial moment the Lord has simply and beyond our control, eliminated one or the other road, leaving us only one way to travel forward.
But as I look at the last nine years of my life, now half-packed into boxes (how is it possible that nine years can fit so neatly into cardboard boxes?), I cannot help being overwhelmed with sadness, regret and a strong desire to run away from all this change, to go back to What Life Was. To return to the Familiar and the Comfortable.
I have all these worries and fears that my head knows are not of Faith, but my heart cannot find peace over...
what if I cannot find a midwife in time and we have to give birth in the hospital?
what if I can't find any friends who love to drink tea?
do they even drink tea in Florida?
where in the world will we find a ballet teacher as good as Miss Cindy?
who will I oooo and aaah over wedding flower magazines with?
who will be friends with my kids?
what if all the women are much more mature than I, and my Sex in the City references fall completely flat?
who will I go bargain shopping with?
do I really need to worry about alligators?
will I ever find another house like this one?
Can I make it without all my friends from Harrisonburg???
I don't know the answers to these questions. But all I can do is continue to lay it all on the altar and keep putting one foot in front of the other as God provides one more step's worth of light.
When all around my soul gives way He then is all my hope and stay In every high and stormy gale My anchor holds within the veil
On Christ the solid rock I stand All other ground is sinking sand All other ground is sinking sand
