Sunday Is Really Just Monday Eve

I've successfully been a heathen about a month now. I've taken a church hiatus; it happens every so often. Mostly out of exhaustion, but right now I'm just going through some stuff, and while some find solace within church walls, for me it adds to the confusion. So I've just been taking some space.

It can be hard to explain but my daughter and I are similar in our wavelengths when it comes to hitting our social-ness walls. We're so good at planned and routine activities, but every so often we need to just do our own version of way less, and kinda just "be."

I tried to be that mom that planned the play dates and activities this weekend but it was a good lesson for both my daughter and I that, things can turn on a dime. Time to adapt. She had a melt down earlier and it was warranted but I quickly tried for a "Plan B" of sorts and was able to get her back on track. She is now exhausted in front of Netflix.

It's recently been discovered that my comfort zone is just watching TV and that's how I relax. In this day and age if you aren't watching 14 series on all the streaming at once, you're out of the loop. It can feel just as overwhelming as the rest of life. I've found my ways to integrate all the things without compromising too much of myself but it's definitely a balancing act to say the least. 

Sunday has really just become Monday Eve. For me it's all about "before the week kicks off," down time. I'm sure that is the way it was designed and laid out in the bible, but it's funny we seldom find it feasible. I even still have some basic cleaning things I "should do." Knowing me I will push it off until next week because I might end up feeling the weight of things to come.

Sunday in this house is usually the only opportunity we have to choose to "sleep in." For most parents, "sleeping in" is for teenagers and college students. There is always an animal or child that wakes you. For me, sleeping in is waking upon my own volition, meaning without an alarm. Sunday is the only chance I have of that. Every other day is scheduled and regimented. So planning to get up and go on Sunday can cause me a lot of stress, turns out my daughter revealed slightly the same sentiment and today we slept in.

Sunday around 4PM I turn into a pumpkin. It's a countdown to Pajamas. Dinner and bed time is always pretty early and if I can get the dog out for one more round before we all just collapse, I feel accomplished. There is also always laundry and likely a few more chores. But to me it's a count down and at the strike of 8PM all must be quiet on the home front. 

Starting the week off right is huge for me. I feel like it can set the tone. With Sunday as just the day before Monday, it's so important for me to feel capable of starting the routine again. I've had to adapt a lot lately, and so has my daughter and sometimes I feel like I can see, like very visibly see, the wear and tear it has had on us. 

Sometimes, okay often, I feel like a bad mom. When I finally got my home as just mine with my mother in a separate space and my very own first house, I stopped pretending we all had to do everything together. I have a TV in my room, and the living room one is shared among us all but is usually overrun by my daughter. I don't often watch hours of My Little Pony sitting there bored. Mostly I'm doing chores or working on things in my room with something I want to watch in the background. 

I'm just one room away and I just refuse to sit there with her when she doesn't even care. We watch Disney movies together, and I've watched an episode or two of her favorite shows but I let her "binge-on" and enjoy. I feel it's no worse than kids playing hours of iPad and everyone is allowed time to veg out, especially right before the week starts.

On weekdays, she doesn't get any of her own shows. Sometimes we have TV on in the background but she doesn't get to watch any movies or shows of her own. We have set routines and I make sure we follow as much as we can. I'm fully aware that some day sports and such will derail any plan I could have, so I enjoy the calm while I can.

Mondays through Fridays are just so darn busy, and with Sunday and Monday eve it can feel like the calm before the storm. What is the phrase now? "Sunday scaries?" I think that's the scare before the impending week, perhaps but I'm not down with the cool kid lingo so I'm unsure. Sunday is when I feel the most likely to self care. Saturdays are often still packed and busy.

So here we are on Monday Eve. I had the most "Monday-est" Friday there ever was, a productive and fantastic Saturday and Sunday has been outdoor adventures leaving me to sit in my bed and type this while listening to the kids Netflix profile bark from the TV in the living room. I have laundry to fold, dinner to prepare, some spot cleaning to do, and I desperately would love to snag some more down time. 

On this Monday Eve, I say this; self care on a Sunday is tantamount to some of us functioning well from week to week, so tread lightly with those of us that seem more "lazy" on these days. Everyone is on different wavelengths and if you find someone on a similar one to you, vibe with that well, as I've work diligently on with my daughter. Send those check in texts if the week took over and Saturday came and went. Sundays are the perfect time to reboot for the week ahead and it's easier to reach out before Monday sweeps you away.

Lastly, it's okay to not be okay, as one of my favorite people so gently reminded me this week. And taking space in your own way is also okay, just don't live there for too long, this world and your tribe needs you. So happy Monday Eve. May your last hours of the weekend be gentle, and prepare you well for another week!

Garage Sale Saturday

We live in a small neighborhood. I've heard a bit about a "homeowner's association," but our FHA loan specified we cannot be in an HOA...apparently ours is defunct or not real but theoretical? All I know is there an old man, in an old school, very sad looking golf cart that rides around smoking cigars and telling people what they shouldn't do and asking for dues. Seems like a legit set-up right?

Well once a year they do the community garage sale...or as I like to call it, pandemonium for leaving your damned house. Every home in this neighborhood has a minimum of a two car garage, and most residents don't have more than two cars. For some reason people still park on our very small streets. It gets to the point where you have to go two miles an hour to make sure you can squeeze through if two cars are parked on the same street across from each other. A fire truck would struggle any old day.

I learned during the hurricane that the reason the cars aren't in the garage, is because everyone is some level of hoarder, which actually makes garage sale day kind of interesting, if you don't live here. Doing something simple like leaving your driveway becomes the most aggravating part of your day. No one knows how to drive. Then you get stuck behind the people who need to slow down to look to see if anything catches their eye instead of parking. Did you feel the eye roll there?

It makes me super happy to have an escape and I pray for the end of the sales to be swift. On our way to Saturday morning routines I saw at least 5 other neighborhoods advertising their own community garage sales.

My daughter thinks garage sales are so amazing. And I recall having that same idea when I was her age. To me it was fascinating that people had so much stuff, but that you buy their stuff for cheap? That was awesome! My niece had a "garage-sale-ing" obsession too that drove my sister insane. I now know why.

I was happy to avoid our neighborhood like the plague. So much so that I bought my daughter a new craft kit just to keep her from asking to wander the neighborhood. It's not that I wouldn't let her have a few things, but we don't need more stuff.

I stopped pretending I would re-sell things and just give them all away because I feel like that's what I'm meant to do with them. They served me well and now someone else can use them. We always accept hand me downs and garage sales are just shopping hand me downs!

So many neighbors just have random, for lack of a better word, crap that they want to make money off of. It's rare that you find a good deal for an actual necessity. While I like to imagine that people are using the money for a good cause, I mean let's be real here. It's probably not that. Maybe they are figuring out a new appliance or upgrading something but they likely aren't about to toss it into the church offering.

While garage sales can be an adventure I dislike this day every year and this year it caught me by complete surprise. Luckily I was able to get errands done early today, so the inconvenience was minor, but I was in no rush to get home. 

We managed to push through unscathed and without so much as a quick dog walk tour of the goods. The shoppers were great people to watch though and I'm glad some neighbors got rid of their wares. Perhaps my enchantment with garage sale Saturdays will have another seasonal visit one day but for now, I'm happy not out people-ing. If you are out there "garage-sale-ing" make sure you have your negotiation skills ready for action and enjoy the weekend!

I'd Rather Not Be The Bad Day Blogger

The other day my best friend across an ocean messaged me. He messaged me this long message about his truly horrible day filled with work and boss dispute, a small injury and a broken water heater meaning, cold showers until it could be fixed. Although I very much love Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad day, all I could think was, he "Roseanna-Danna'd" me. 

Not to date myself here, but I was raised with amazing comedic appreciation including that of early and original SNL. Gilda Radner was a comedic genius in comedy and I loved her character on Weekend Update "Roseanne, Rosanna Danna." She had one person complaining in a letter which I then found in a Hallmark card years later for a favorite Aunt, and when I heard my friend's annoyed plea all I could hear and picture was her:

Honestly when he messaged me, I smiled. Not because he had a bad day, but because I loved that he wasn't complaining at me, but rather that after all of that, he wanted to come share the day with me as if thinking, "Ali will make me feel better." I offered all the good vibes and apologies for a yuck day promising a better tomorrow.

This morning was my turn for the bad day. If I'm being honest it's been a rough run all around. It's been quite a roller coaster and many tests of my anxiety, depressive whims and my ability to push through and adult. I'm anything but easy going and these past few weeks have been quite a trial for me.

Today was the breaking point and I really wanted to write it up as an "F this Friday." But I took a lot of deep breaths and pushed through. It was one of those crappy financial situations which wasn't the end of the world but really sucked. One of those things that wasn't your fault really, but wasn't arguable. It was a waste of money and resources, not to mention time, all of which I detest! It was not a great start to my day.

I figured I had a few choices: I could reach out to my co-complainers, aka my friends that always support my annoyances with the fact that they, too, would be annoyed by said situation. I could cry in my car, always good for a day to be not okay. OR, I could therapize through it, meaning using the tools from therapy to get me to not hit melt down mode.

I posted some Pinterest motivational pictures in a collage, and boy I LOVE a good collage, on Instagram and had some of my favorite people reach out to me and remind me I'm loved through the muck, especially when I'm hating myself, and that it's just a bad day. And then I sorted it all out. I felt better.

It was after a major talk session and some light complaining that I realized, not only am I not alone in this kind of thing, meaning it happens to the best of us, but just two days before I had a message from a bestie that exhibited the same kind of day. And then I was reminded of the always amazing skit of "Roseanne Rosanna Danna." I've left it below for your entertainment, but to sum up, rather than be the Bad Day Blogger, I'm with "Roseanne Rosanna Danna," "It's always something," and if it's not one list, it's another but the best thing we can do with it all, is at least have a laugh.

Happy Friday!

To Socialize Or To Self Care? That Is The Question!

I'm about to embark on 10 days of 90% parenting alone and being lucky if I grab 20 minutes of conversation with my hubby daily, and then seeing him for all of 2 hours one morning this weekend. #Restaurantlife

At the end of this 10 days I realized my daughter will be at an all day camp for Girl Scouts and I am left open and having a day to myself. I mean this when I say, it never happens unless I'm somehow home, and she is at school. Truly, it is extremely rare. 

Now I am faced with this question: do I take a quiet, uninterrupted day in my own home to be productive and watch TV? OR, do I schedule time with people I've been meaning to catch up with but just haven't found the time? Do I socialize? Or do I self care? Such decisions!

This is what truly stinks about being an introverted extrovert, it's such a weird mix:

Should I recharge or should I go catch up with my tribe? Part of me says, let's see how next week goes. The other part wants to reach out to the people who have been trying to catch up with me and schedule some fun. Oh what a tangled web we weave.

I love my down time. These next 10 days will be ones that end with quiet, reading, and tea, and are calm and mentally healing I hope. With that comes the mixed in stress of knowing that by the end of all of this, I will have one exhausted husband and a very anxious six year old to care for in their reboot needs. This too shall pass. 

Sometimes after a week of feeling alone, I do thrive on being out in the world and mingling but there is a part of me that wants to curl up and do nothing. I don't ever just "do nothing," anymore. "Do nothing" was a phrase I loved and a goal I had always made for myself before motherhood and adulting came at me full swing. Now I just try and do what I can when I can, which is all I can do in fact.

That duality of the "ambivert" within me is so weird. I found this meme and it sums it up well I think:

I can rock some serious quiet, now more than ever. You don't know the true value or importance of quiet until you have a child, in my humble opinion. I can also be the most social person you've ever seen, which can be a blessing and a curse.

I hate this internal mental wrestling match within myself because it shouldn't feel like a chore to enjoy "free time." I'm just that person who feels like there is always something that should be done and keeps on going until I hit my wall and deflate like one of the balloons after the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

For today in my allergy haze, just starting on day one of the mania, I've decided to sleep on it. I do my best decision making on a good night's rest, or so I'd like to believe. Maybe I will hide from the world or maybe I will re-emerge fierce and ferocious and ready to play. Of course I will report back!

Finding All The Time; The Question Of When

That phrase, "There are not enough hours in the day," must have been written for parents, and mothers specifically. As an avid supporter of therapy, I will admit that in a therapy session when our therapist was talking to us about making time to communicate, it took every fiber in my being not to shout..."When?"

We are supposed to have the time to "do it all." I'd like to reveal to you all, it's complete and utter bullshit. It may also be impossible. 

Timing and finding the time, is really difficult. Date nights, solo errands, nights out with friends, calm conversations, dinner not being a rush, all of these things require planning and timing and I'm not going to lie, it's all really exhausting. This is coming from someone who only has one child, mind you. 

I used to sit and admire the moms that could "do it all." But then I actually started listening to them and befriending them and I realized it's not that they "do it all" but rather they have different methodologies and routines they have found that work for them. So I've just tried to do the same for me.

Most of us are running on very little sleep, although I maintain that sleep is my single favorite hobby and if I have the opportunity to get as much as possible, you better believe I will! 

My biggest struggles are time for myself, and time with my husband. Time with my husband is completely maddening because we operate on extremely different wavelengths. I have a cup of coffee and am firing on all cylinders from 8AM to about 3PM. He isn't truly awake until at least 1PM, even if he wakes up at 7AM, and at 9PM is ready to hang out...just as I'm past my bed time! It stinks, to say the least. Opposite schedules are a hindrance. 

So when do we find time to do what we need? A lunch break? If hubby and I catch a lunch date it has a specific end time, talk about killing a moment. All other walks of life are interrupted by my child, because she is sassy and six. So, therefore, I repeat, when?

We get many, many, MANY, suggestions, which are often kind and thoughtful for that answer. Almost all of them are just not conducive to our life. I work hard on my time management but that doesn't just make everything happen. Between kid schedules, work schedules, and my precious sleep, it seems to always be a struggle.

I am a scheduled, organized person. I've tried to schedule time together and it rarely works. Date nights, depending on the babysitter, usually end up having consequences, and again, we operate on opposite levels in most walks of life. He's tired and hungry later, I'm tired and hangry all the time. 

I used to make the large mistake of taking to Facebook to complain about this. I had moms who agreed and then other people with their snarky comments that made me so mad. Only a few understood enough to think to offer help. Those are my favorite people. This is also not some inadvertent hint to text me after reading by the way. No, seriously.

The "WHEN" has always been such a looming and sad question for me because it never has an easy answer of "4PM Tuesday," and 90% of the time "When" turns into the dreaded, "As soon as," ellipsis. No fun.

My life is filled with "As soon as." Sometimes it feels like a reflex. I've had to be more assertive in following through with these things that come up for "as soon as," also, which is tough at times. We always think we have plenty of time. We always think we will have time and these assumptions make things even more sticky, because life is a lot shorter than we'd like to admit.

With age I have become so much more careful with my time. It is much like money where it must be spent wisely and this is a great first step. As with any circumstance, we do what we can. We sneak it in here or there but I've certainly stopped pouring my time into proverbial glasses that aren't half empty or half full, but cracked and draining! All the metaphors!

The "whens" and "as soon as's" are just so daunting, but nonetheless a part of life. Much like our children asking the never ending "why" and our need to say "no" we all find a way to make life work with balancing time, energy and all the things.

There is no sure fire way to find all the time, and there's no good answer for the question of when, especially not that of "as soon as...". But we are here and we persist. Life is wonderful and exhausting and, for me, it comes with these points of "Oh my gosh when would I find that time?", that I can rearrange and better align my life so I CAN find the time. 

No one "Does it all!" Okay, MAYBE Oprah! But we need to do what we can, day by day, and make an effort to find the time and answer the question of when, more simply. If we can tell a child when she can have a toy back, we can tell our husbands when date night is. We can find all the time we need, when we need the time with our people. Make it work, readers!

10 Things I Hate About You Is Twenty Years Old... And I Can't Wait To Share It With My Daughter!

On March 31st, 1999 a new teen flick took the world by storm and is now a cult classic, and one I cannot wait to share with my daughter, "10 Things I Hate About You."

Not only was this the late, great Heath Ledger's first film burst as our new heart-throb, but Julia Stiles showed us that being a less popular female at school was in fact "cool" and you could still get the guy. Unlike cheesy hits like "She's All That," where the geek gets glam, 10 Things I Hate About You was much more philosophical in my humble opinion.

Loosely based on Shakespeare's, "The Taming of The Shrew," the lead character Kat, finds out young and early that popularity comes at a price and then rejects all things trendy to march to the beat of her own drum. Her sister Bianca, on the other hand is one of the coolest, a Gretchen Weiners-type if you're a Mean Girls fan, and attracts all the jocks. The one nerdy guy who has his eye on Bianca is that of Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who shortly after this film, started taking on roles in all genres and wowing us as more than just "the kid from 3rd Rock From The Sun."

My favorite part of this film is, unlike my other cult faves like Clueless, it's witty and very true, whilst staying romantic and easy to fall in love with. This movie showed me that the skinny, pretty girl can be sharp, hilarious, and intelligent without the need to impress people. The one-liners aside, it exemplifies some pretty epic GIRL POWER as well:

It shows the many worlds that young girls get stuck in between: girly and ditzy, versus smart and sassy. It also shows how, as women, we can all support and learn from each other through the drama and dichotomy:

For me, I wanted to be a little bit Bianca and a lot of Kat. Bianca seems completely superficial at first but we grow to see why she's like-able, where as Kat is abrasive but so smart you instantly admire her. Then you see the selfish jock versus the cute nerd followed by Health Ledger as the intelligent bad boy, antisocial "loser" that no one would call a loser to his face because he could kick your ass that girls warm to once you get past the rough exterior.

Years ago for Valentine's day my husband gave me a copy of this movie on DVD which remains un-opened because on the plastic he drew a list of 10 Things He "Loved" not "Hated" About Me, as homage to the end when Kat reads her poem that ended up being the fantasy speech of every 1999 teen girl with a crush, showing us all that there is a thin line between love and hate.

My daughter is only 6, but come about 11 or 12, we'll be watching this together. Why? This movie really is timeless. I mean look how far Shakespeare has come, let alone this quippy interpretation. I'll watch this with her because it shows all the levels of teenage struggle.

You have the overbearing dad, the out of the picture mom, you have the sister who is up to no good and will do anything to keep her reputation, the sister that could care less about social aspects of school and follows all the rules at home, the jock with a one track mind, the nerd with a heart of gold, and then bad boy gone good when he's treated decently by the girl he is made to view as a possible enemy. Throw in the weird betting business, some fun sidekicks, and emotional plot twists and this movie is just plain entertaining!

The movie is filled with constant quote-ables like when Kat warns Bianca of partying with the clique: 

And then Heath Ledger encourages the underdog to go for the girl:

 

Above all, I love how it takes every quintessential teen problem and shows you the pitfalls: Bianca learns that some guys just want sex and will cast you aside as soon as you don't give them what they want. Kat learns that even though she hates the popular kids, being included with them among peer pressure issues can still make you act just like one of them. She happens make an ass out of yourself, which somehow makes her more like-able and relate-able. Heath Ledger learns that reputations aren't everything and you shouldn't gamble with money or people's emotions, especially when you don't even really know the person being cast as the butt of the joke. Joseph Gordon Levitt learns that nice guys will often get the shit end of the stick, but if you persist and keep true to yourself, you just might get the girl. 

It all ends well, people end up where they should be and you even get to see a girl take a swing at a bad guy, stand up for herself, her sister and her man and win the day! GIRL POWER! 

Julia Stiles poem at the end is something I'll always remember because it was every teenager's glimpse at the mess of love and a gorgeous moment of coming out of being crushed that you opened yourself up to someone who hurt you:

She acted it out quite well. In a happy ending with great music there is also a quick exchange referencing buying back affections and forgiveness which now I realize was understated in it's time. It's a simple exchange that kind of reminds viewers that the apology should be as loud as the disrespect, but let's not get carried away on "buying" back your relationship. 

When I watch this with my little girl when she is much bigger, I intend to point out all of my musings in my 20 year obsession with this movie, but mostly emphasize that Kat is a strong, sassy, fierce, and highly intelligent woman who will do no harm and take no shit. We need more "Kats" in the world and if my daughter identifies with her the way I did, she'll keep this movie as a cult classic herself and keep the legacy going. 

Coming of age teen movies have their place and I intend to make she she gets the best and even some of the worst in her film education. My dad and my hubby even revere this movie as a great one and have watched it with me before. So thank you for 20 great years, 10 Things I Hate About You! I intend to play you for at least 20 more! 

The Florida Move - Who, What, When, Where...Maybe Even Why?

We're inching closer to a full decade as Floridians and my husband also has reminded me, I've officially lived in Florida longer than I did in Oregon and I'm 3 years shy of beating out my 13 years in Pennsylvania. The Florida move was a big one for my husband but less so for me, and 10 years later I figure I can better explain the move now, as opposed to before.

When I was all of 7 years old and obsessed with Father of The Bride with Steve Martin, I decided I was going to get married in my dad's church, have the reception at our house, that I loved so much, of course stay close by to family and raise my kids right there, right? Why would you ever leave "home?" That's how it worked right?

By 13 my mom was consistently out of the picture and my dad, having moved to Pennsylvania for my mom and her family more than anything else, was growing tired of being where he no longer seemingly had a reason to solidify his roots. My dad attempted to find us a secondary space in North Carolina, our version of a summer home he bought for him and my mom. When the shit hit the fan, he lost the house, and all his future plans, so he started devise a decision on what he wanted in terms of a new life alone.

He decided on Oregon. My mom ended up in Delray Beach, Florida for her first solid year of stability. I came down for summer camp and visits and much like the opposite of Frozen's Elsa, "The heat never bothered me anyway." I fell in love easily with Florida. My grandparents were just an hour north of her in Port St. Lucie too and I was just in awe of all things Florida.

I loved the palm trees, the big changing signs along I-95, the malls, and it was bright and sunny so that you could go to the beach or the pool year round. I loved the big houses almost as I loved the little key west style one-floor ranchers and loved that it was WARM!

When I was vying for having a mother figure back and my dad was itching for distance, he said he was going to go back to Oregon when I was 16 and I had zero interest in following. I wanted to live with my mom in Delray. So, I finished my sophomore year of high school living with my Aunt in Pennsylvania and then was shipped to Delray Beach.

I landed in Ft. Lauderdale, and did my junior year in Delray Beach and literally lasted a year to the day, before my dad packed up all my stuff and dragged me across the country with him to Oregon to finish high school and then go to college. My mom and I were not fit to share a roof. Unfortunately this still stands and has been recently proven. 

After moving to two high schools in 2 years, moving didn't bother me. I could be a nomad, whatever. In fact for the next 7 years, I moved once a year. My dad rented a place on Hilyard in South Eugene for High School. After that we moved to West Eugene to an apartment for my first year at community College. Then I was on 11th with my first roommate, then I lived by myself on High Street, then to Bailey Hill in a little townhouse with a roommate, moved in the same complex but a one bedroom with my then boyfriend, now husband, and then with my Aunt back in South Eugene, whilst I planned my graduation and Oregon escape.

My sights were originally set on San Francisco, or New York. I always dreamed that being poor in a big city was more romantic than being rich in the suburbs. But, after another bad situation with my mom derailed me, and I had a year of pretty intense depression and anxiety, I gave into the idea that maybe I was the type that could settle down and have a family, and my adolescent Carrie Bradshaw dreams were just the stuff of immaturity.

My husband had never really lived anywhere. Just Oregon; Medford and then Eugene. When he met me, we visited Pennsylvania often, he saw the Jersey Shore and even Delray Beach, Florida. When I mentioned possibly leaving for a new place, he was all in. But then I was like, well if we're moving 3,000 miles together, if we were to get married we'd do that before we left right? Because I'd never be that person to get married on a beach. 

So, in the midst of planning a cross country trek and new life, we snuck in a wedding that turned into an epic send off and I was ready. I had studied for about 4 months in Europe in 2007 and it was just the best time ever. I LOVED to travel. It didn't  matter if it involved road trips or flying anywhere new, I was in. My husband was just kind of starting to embrace new horizons. Moreover for me, I wanted a place that was just ours.

My mom almost successfully ruined our relocation, but I refused to let her take away one more thing from my life. Originally I wanted to go back to Delray, but my husband had an Aunt in Tampa and I had had cousins move from Pennsylvania to St. Petersburg, Florida about 2 or so years prior. We visited once and very much liked it so we just changed the location a bit.

I was so ready for a clean slate, a warm new place that didn't even know anything about us. In Oregon, everyone knew my husband and I as this entity of "us," which was great and fine, but I just wanted our own real place.  I also didn't want to get stuck doing everything that everyone around us in Oregon was doing, but rather to find my own way.

Finding my footing was tough at first, but after about 2 job changes I found a place to thrive. After I left Pennsylvania "home" became a fluid concept anyway. It wasn't a place but more, a feeling of comfort in who I was with. My husband was home. The apartment didn't matter, only that we were in it together. 

For career reasons, I knew that Oregon couldn't support what I wanted to do for writing. I was in for a rude awakening that nowhere really could, especially in my married life, and also that our lives couldn't support endless internships or relocation for such things. Therefore, I just found my way with jobs to pay the bills.

In truth, with a broken heart from family life, and a guy next to me saying he wanted to go with and love me, why stay put? I wasn't immediately ready to settle down and have a family, but I liked knowing I didn't have to be alone. I wanted to just live a bit. 

Maybe my husband's reasons are completely different and I won't speculate but for me, the "who" was my husband and I, the "what" was, "moved to Florida," or as my sister said, "You can't move any further away." The "when" ended up being June-July of 2009 because we took our time getting down here. The "where" changed from Delray to Tampa Bay and the never ending "Why," would be best answered as, because we deserved a chance to have something that was our own.

Of course a decade later with a dog and a child, and even a house purchase in, boy did nothing go as I'd imagined. Expectations have been shattered and things have been harder than I could have ever thought, but I don't regret leaving. I asked my husband the same thing last year and he agreed.

Don't get me wrong, I love Oregon. I miss it. But I cannot handle the cold. The cold makes me so very physically uncomfortable and depressive. I'm much better here in the Sunshine State.

The why is complicated, I'll admit. I also think as I get older and one can only hope, wiser, it may become more succinct but I just wanted something that was completely and utterly ours. In Oregon I would have had babies immediately with everyone else, got a job I hated for no pay and struggled through the seasons to find what I was even looking for, and I didn't feel like that was where I should be. Luckily, I had a co-pilot who wanted to come with. 

Ironically now I have zero desire to leave Safety Harbor. My daughter jokes about having a different house and I'm like, "Uh, no, this is the forever house." I've had what I've built threatened to disintegrate often, and this is the first time I'm not like, "Sure we'll just move along elsewhere," but rather I'm like, "I refuse to give up what I've worked hard for."

It took me 8 years to land a job that even kind of used my degree, not to mention a job that actually was friendly to my anxiety and personal struggles. It took me 8 years to find a place I would want to stay and right now I'm having to rebuild some massive personal destruction and I won't let anyone tell me I shouldn't be spending my time to be a better mom and human. When I had my daughter there were a few times when I wished family was closer, but even when we go visit, I'm constantly reminded at how hard it is there for us, or at least for me.

Florida may not be forever but at least I can see the first hints of calm. I love this "colorful, lawless swamp" that I call home and why even? Because it is my home. And home is where the heart is right? I think we can end on that cliche for a Monday!