When you get what you want...

Life is funny, isn't it?

We haven't sold our first house yet, in fact have not had much action on it at all. So we've done some preliminary research into renting the property. We're of course very lucky that this is even an option, and find the positive in either outcome.

Lately I have been struck by a very human reaction when we get what we wanted. We still mourn what we've lost. It's true that no matter what we get in life, it means giving up something else.

We love the street we live on. We love our neighbors. We love our house. But we've found our dream house, and expect to love that house, street and neighborhood as well. But it still means giving up something we've loved.

When we consider selling the house v.s. renting it out, we're again giving something up. Selling means some immediate cash in our savings, though not a lot, but it is definitely a simpler outcome. When we consider keeping the property and renting it out, we can foresee the possibility of greater financial return/ security in the long run, but it means less immediate security and more immediate stress and uncertainty.

Obviously we have little control over the situation, as we can't will a buyer with deep pockets out of thin air (I've tried), nor can we use a crystal ball to predict real estate values in 5 or 10 or 20 years. So we're doing what everyone does: making the best decisions we can based on the information we do have, trusting it will all work out, and trusting our ability to roll with whatever happens.

Still, whatever happens, I know there's a part of us that will wonder about the promise of the other outcome.

I'm really big time now!

I'm about to get my corner office and a parking space with my name on it. 

Many of my dreams are quite nearly filled: healthy family, great marriage, ability to take care of my family, sense of fulfillment. About the only thing missing is the bi-weekly PTA meeting. 

I'm wildly blessed to be so near accomplishing so much so soon. There was a time any and all of these goals and dreams seemed impossibly out of reach. These dreams were no less lofty than a Nobel prize, Oscar, Emmy or President to me. Not once did I suppose these dreams were "settling" or doing what I was "supposed" to do. And I still don't. To accomplish the family and life I have took a tremendous amount of work, education, practice, self-awareness and effort. I'm very proud of what I've accomplished and those accompanying me in my journey. 

And I'm sort of excited for the next step too. 

The next step is unplanned, uncertain, wide open. Yes, I'll raise my children, date my husband, and put my all into it and love every second of it. My goals of being a great, loving wife, Mom, sister and friend remain. 

But the rest is a blank canvas. Job, career, self improvement. Where will I go? What will I learn? Who will I meet? 

I can't wait for adventures with my family. Seeing the world, growing together, learning about each other, ourselves. 

I expect I'll find causes to be passionate about. I anticipate finding something in the professional world that I can pour myself into and succeed. I can see us sharing vacations around the world, enjoying each other as we explore. And I can't wait. 

I may be at the end of this portion of my life's "to-do" list and have a great sense of peace and accomplishment.  I also have a sense of newness and excitement and anticipation for the next phase too.

Who knows what it will bring?

    

Happy Thanksgiving! What's for dinner?

I've come across a lot of articles recently about poverty, the disappearing middle class and the continuing depressed economy. They aren't easy stories to read.

I've been poor. 

When I was young, 4 or 5 years old, my parents declared bankruptcy. I remember the 5 of us sleeping in one bed with little or no heat in the house. Food was scarce, sharing one box of macaroni and cheese for dinner, rarely having fresh fruits or vegetables. When I was 12 my parents divorced, and my mother who hadn't worked in 16 years was left to raise 4 children with no income. We lived on food stamps and received food baskets from local churches, which one year supplied us with Thanksgiving dinner. I'll never forget that basket. It looked like months worth of food to me, and we probably stretched it out for weeks.

I remember the time a neighbor had us over for dinner and served spaghetti WITH meatballs AND garlic bread. She told me years later that my comment "this is like two dinners at once!" brought tears to her eyes. 

We did not get new clothes, except for holidays when our grandmother would buy our Easter or Christmas outfits. Otherwise it was all second hand from neighbors or cousins. 

Going to the doctor was often a luxury we couldn't afford, and we didn't have health insurance for years at a time. We would go to the clinic to get our shots and physicals so we could register at school.

Things many consider inexpensive luxuries were not present in our house. Paper towels and tisssues were for "rich people" and, there were honestly times we did not have toilet paper. 

When inspection was due on our clunker cars, my mother would ask the mechanic to show her how to make the necessary repairs because she couldn't afford to pay him to do them. 

Birthday parties and extra curricular activities weren't even discussed. We knew we couldn't afford them. 

My point is not to gain sympathy, but rather to point out how pervasive and perilous poverty is. Especially for children. There is an innate lack of security when basic necessities of heat, food, and health care are lacking. How can they worry about letters, numbers, hopes and dreams when all they can dream about is a warm full meal? This lack of security is not something that goes away when the refrigerator is full. 

I just read an article on CNN about a new character named Lily that Sesame Street is introducing in a new one hour special. Lily is struggling with "food insecurity" (inadequate access to food for a healthy lifestyle). Hooray for Sesame putting a face to a problem so many children are facing. But how sad that it is a problem needing a face. 

I feel incredibley blessed and aware of the fact that One Philly Daddy and I have never had to worry about feeding our family. We've never had to choose between food and medicine, and if there's no milk in the fridge, it's because we haven't been to the store yet, not because we can't afford it.

These things are not a given for me and I truly appreciate being able to provide milk AND juice AND snacks AND meals AND anything else my family may need. It is a blessing I do not take for granted. 

So when the envelope came in the mail today, asking for donations to feed people Thanksgiving dinner at a local shelter, I wrote a check, instead of just thinking I should.

What good are blessings if they aren't shared?     

No news is....well, it's no news

I continue on my quest of positivity, though with a few trips, stumbles and spills along the way.

I'll admit, the house has only been listed 2 weeks and 4 days, so a bite already would've been pretty damn shocking in this market. I know that, I get that. It would just be really, really nice to be moving forward with the packing/moving portion of this experiment. The keep the house clean so strangers will want to buy the house portion of the experiment is already tiresome. It's like living in limbo or something.

I'd be happy to live in a sea of boxes, cook on 2 pots, eat off paper plates, and remove all artwork from our walls. Alas, this does nothing for the "buy me and live in me" quaint charm we're aiming for.

So I'm trying to make progress on the ways I can: packing up and giving away baby items no longer needed, purchasing moving boxes and tape, planning our get away. We did a December move once before. Minus one dog and two (one and a half?) babies, and it was stressful. Once October gets going, everyone's schedule fills up with shopping, parties, baking, decorating and the like. So I know time is of the essence here. Oh yeah, and this belly ain't gettin smaller anytime soon.

One Philly Daddy is gracious and tolerant of my stress, trying his darndest to calm and reassure me.

So I'm going to take a breath, focus on what I can for now and let everything else "be."

But, hey, if you're in the market for a charming twin in a fabulous school district - let me know!

I'll be the first person to preach the importance of positive thinking and the idea that you bring things to yourself and your life by what you think. In short, what you expect is typically what you get. 

I've even asked One Philly Daddy to not say things like "One Philly Son is so great, our second child will be terrible!" and " our luck is bound to change." 

I. Don't. Believe. That. 
And I'm not interested in welcoming negative expectations in my life.

I've seen this in action on both the positive and negative end. Sure, sometimes "life" happens but there seem to be those people who are "lucky" and things go their way (in my experience, they are also seeking a way to find the positive in whatever happens, so which comes first?) and those who are "cursed". You know the ones who "never" catch a break or for whom "everything" goes wrong.

My point is that, poop happens to everyone, but what you do with it, how you think about it, how you think about life and yourself makes a big difference in how happy or unhappy you may be.   

But I have to say, selling our house is putting my positivity to the test!

I'm realistic, but expecting things to work out, and doing everything in my power to make that happen. That means accepting every request to see the house, whether with a week or 10 minutes notice, staging the house, working with a trusted realtor, keeping my house clean, etc. 

But all that doesn't do any good if the people requesting the showing DON'T SHOW UP.

Inhale. Exhale.  

Argh! It has happened to us twice already this week. While I understand life happens and things come up, this really seems disrespectful and rude, on many levels. 

But I'm clinging to positivity. At least trying too. The right buyers will come. Soon. And they will love our house. Our move will go smoothly. We will happily welcome New Philly Daughter to a happy (if not totally unpacked) home.

I'm positively sure about it!