A little over four weeks ago, I flew with my two-week old son to meet Stephen in our new apartment. A new beginning, with new faces to meet and new opportunities to experience.
Although he had worked long and hard to unpack as much as he could, boxes still sat waiting to be unpacked, and many piles lay waiting to be organized. Both of us went through emotional highs and lows as we slowly settled in. Steve's schedule demanded much of his time, so many days I was left to manage the kids and try to make some semblance of progress. There were a few nights where I went to bed with a smile on my face, happy with the day's work. Those nights were balanced by others where I cried, because everything felt insurmountable.
But here we are. I hereby pronounce us officially settled in. There are no stray boxes in the apartment, and what few projects remain are finishing touches, like curtains and shelves. The household is humming: laundry, dishes, and baths are taking place. I even made cookies from scratch the other day. And we're making friends.
Life is taking on its own rhythm, and I'm adapting to life with two little ones. Truly, the transition from no kids to one kid was its own odyssey; I felt run over by a truck, yanked into a world of sleep-deprived breastfeeding limbo. Moving from one to two feels like a juggling act performed in a sea of molasses; everything takes three times as long as I expect. My ambitions for each day have to be scaled back a great deal in order to jive with reality.
I've had a laundry list of moving-related things to take care of, and ticking each one off has proved immensely satisfying. The car has Massachusetts plates on it now, and I have my temporary license. Lucas' birth certificate is on its way. We've applied for state health benefits. I've found a pediatrician (my own, actually, from when I was a baby). Slowly but surely I feel my feet resting on solid ground.
Truly, it's a wonderful feeling to be settled in, yet I still feel an undercurrent of nervousness about our finances. Steve's student schedule is so rigorous he hasn't had time to work, let alone think about working. My glimpse of his demands is such that I can't imagine him ever working during the school year. Our hopes are for some seasonal work when the summer hits.
As for me, well, the sudden move to Massachusetts threw a wrench in my photography business; travel plans and profit margins for my October portrait marathon in Baltimore have been completely whacked out. I'm hoping to break even, and wishing even more for an influx of business and bookings. Some form of part-time employment may be in my near future, to keep us afloat.
In spite of that looming obstacle, we're surviving. Monetary gifts and blessings have come our way from unexpected and familiar places, without which we would sink into being completely broke. (Yet another item on my to-do list: writing thank-yous.)
The short of it is that God is good; it seems as though we're truly meant to be here. The adjustment has been infinitely easier with my parents close by. Grandma has come to the rescue more times than I can count now, and Ruth has a few new games she's invented with Grandpa. It's a beauty and a marvel at how everything has come full circle, as I watch Ruth explore my childhood home, and my parents re-live their experiences raising children.
I can't wait to see what else is in store for us.
