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Emotional Roller Coaster

By on Jun 1, 2012

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I’m on an emotional roller coaster these days and I think it might be freaking out the ones closest to me. I’ve succumb to crying spells and mild tantrums while the hubby and Zoe look on…bewildered. After all, wasn’t it me who insisted we move in the first place?

And so we did…

We moved last weekend, hence the radio silence, and I’m all out of sorts. The place I once called home, purchased (or rather borrowed from the bank) with some serious IOU’s, is no longer home. I purchased it in August of 2007, a mere 5 days before Phil’s marriage proposal. This sun drenched condo on the 3rd floor was my urban oasis and our family nook in the Chi. I installed hardwood floors throughout and painted the walls with breezy blues, greens and yellows to summons the tranquility that I’d hope would permeate my humble abode. I’d hosted girl nights out, pamper parties, holiday extravaganza’s, brunches, lunches and dinners. My couch was open to give and receive advice and oh yeah…this was the only home Zoe has known for the first 16 months of her life; now its been rented to another lovely family.

Our new place of residence is my husband’s previous bachelor pad, a condo we’d rented out for the last 4 years. It’s 20+ foot ceilings and exposed duct work leave me feeling a bit exposed at times, and the after-thought kitchen leaves a lot to be desired. I’ve got my work cut out for me in trying to make this place “homey,” but not without first taking a ride on my emotional roller coaster.

My first boo hoo erupted when I spied my husband’s empty closet, and the second was after packing the first box. I cried again when I arrived at the new place, overcome with boxes, and I followed that cry up with a more intense cry the first time I prepped dinner in our less than stellar kitchen. And the final cry, which I really hope will be the final cry because I’m sooo exhausted, was a cry of total frustration when I couldn’t find the wine bottle opener.

So why did we move you ask? Good question! Well first and foremost, we moved to an elevator building so I wouldn’t have to tote a babe and toddler up 3 flights of stairs. Our new residence is a better neighborhood, after all, most oases are surrounded by slightly troubled terrain, and we’ve got a little more square footage for the babies. Don’t get me wrong, I really am grateful. It was the right move and it truly felt ordained by God, I think its just the 7 month preggo hormones that are leaving me resistant to change.

I will miss my very first home and I’m slowly coming to grips with the fact that we’ll never move back and that it will never be the same. I know that the only constant in life is change so I’m working on moving forward and not looking back…the last thing I need is to turn into a pillar of salt (somehow I think there is a pun in there regarding salty tears…but I haven’t gotten back to my old clever self yet).

How do you handle major change?

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