I’m sure I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again—I hate change. Most changes I can roll with even if I don’t like them—or I get used to them—but moving is always ALWAYS a big change.
Yes, I’m a little excited to have a different house with a bunch of amenities this house doesn’t have…but on the same note, I just keep thinking of the little things about our new house that are going to be different…that I’m not sure how it’s going to work.
Bikes, for example, and learning to ride. Where we live now? Big, mostly flat driveway on a flat cul-de-sac road. Where we’re moving? Hilly and short driveway on a hilly road. I didn’t really think about it until I bought Katie a tricycle this morning and starting wondering just where the hell she was going to ride it?!
And Owen’s police car? I think I’ll sell it. He doesn’t ride it much and now there won’t be anywhere TO ride it (at the house). Well, there are sidewalks…but since he doesn’t really ride it, why even bother moving it with the HOPES that he will magically start riding it? I had hoped Katie would take to it but she hasn’t…so I’m ready to give up on it since it was a big waste of money. Damn kids. :p
So I’m just feeling major guilt about the kid stuff. Yes, they’ll have a bigger indoor space to run around (including a full big basement)…and a pool and playground a bit of a jaunt away…but they’re losing their own big back yard, their front yard, their awesome playset, their pool, and their driveway. I mean I could literally cry about it.
Obviously people have kids in places like these but my mind just kind of shuts down and I can’t even imagine. My friends assured me they grew up in similar places and turned out fine. They also assured me that kids are flexible, won’t care nearly as much as I do about any of it, and will accommodate quickly no matter what.
I’m sure they’re right and the kids will be fine…but still. The guilt.
I’m just having my typical second thoughts about our house selection…and general apprehension and anxiety about the move. I mean, I’m even worried about stupid things like the kitchen sink (it’s not as big or deep as what we have now), the pantry (it’s an awkward shape with those stupid wire shelves so I’ll still need my garage pantry), the gas stove (I’m excited to have gas again, but it looks old and it’s in the island without much counter space so that’s annoying), and the stupid pedestal sink in the half bath (so nowhere to store anything).
I know I’ll get over it all and once we get settled in things will be just fine—they always are!—but this is why I can’t sleep at night.
I know. Exactly. I can even have Gramma guilt. BUT it will all work out. Look at the bigger picture. “Remember when we lived in DC? Remember the small yard? Remember all the fun we had riding down those hills?” You are all fine. You are all together. It will work out.