“Settling in, again. Not really settling but a bit of starting over again. Startling in sounds better. We are startling in just fine, thank you.”
That is all that I have written in regards to Dummie Diaries since my last post. I thought that moving ‘back home’ would provide me with more time to write. I also thought that my husband would be able to continue his career trajectory. I thought about a lot of things preparing for the move over.
Just not my health.
In the year running up to the move I was hit hard numerous times with illnesses - I chalked it up to living inside a school, stress, whatever it took to rationalise my continued momentum ‘forward’. Just kept going. Moving to the end line of our move date.
Because once we made it there - all our current problems would vanish. Right?
Oh, how naive. I know. But I had to tell myself something. Once we were here - we hit the ground running hard. With every day, our savings dwindled and our desperation to replenish it grew.
I now had more time, but it was all to set us in motion for the starting over section in our life.
I wanted my husband to transition well to his surroundings. I wanted my daughter to embrace her family. I wanted desperately to make up for lost time. In all of this newness I did not take the time to notice how I was still getting ill. May be not virus, or cyst or infection… possibly not. But the dementors in my life, migraines, began creeping over me more and more. Draining me. Stilling moments.
It wasn't until taking on a full time position working with children that I was able to take notice.
In one month of employment I have missed a minimum of 1 day each week. This week is the game changer. It is making me take a step backwards and take a look at my health. I cannot continue on as is. I have to make drastic changes. I have to admit to myself that I am not ready for full time employment.
I cannot be the best employee I can be when stricken with these debilitating pains.
So. One month into employment - and one month away from receiving health insurance - I must take leave. I need to get my health back.
Prepping for immigration.
Years of discussions.
14 months applying for partner visa.
Daughter becoming dual citizen.
Mentally preparing ourselves.
Getting rid of things.
Keeping eyes on job market.
Prepping for shipping.
Saying goodbye to fur family.
Gathering information and records.
Setting money aside.
Downsizing going into overdrive.
Giving things away.
Mentally preparing toddler, as best one can.
Giving things away.
Excited sadness packing.
Leaving things behind.
Away we go, again.
Norwegian Airline awesomeness.
Boston is expensive.
Kansas City.. where is everyone… OH! Here they are!
So. Here we are. Three weeks and some change into living in a multi-generational home. It doesn’t quite feel like ours, but it feels warm and familiar. Everything is an adjustment - getting used to hugging people so often again. Driving again. Dating my husband again. Keeping to a routine for Peaches. Explaining just why we cannot pop over to her buddy’s homes anymore - but hey look at all your cousins! Spending time with my Grandma again. Lovely adjustments.
The job hunt continues, another adjustment. We were both so used to the fast paced London, where you apply and hear back almost immediately. I am trying not to panic apply, just take some deep breaths and cast my services net into the world. Something will come along, because I am not going to stop until it does!
Mom and Dad have their own bedroom again.
Opened bank accounts.
Renewed Driver's License.
Playdates for Peaches.
Date nights for Mom and Dad.
Ikea shopping U.S. style.
Going through boxed possessions.
Currently we’re almost completely reliant on my parents - which we hate BUT are accepting any help people want to give us. That is one thing that has changed in the years, accepting help. Because I cannot do everything on my own. No one can. We need each other. (This is what I keep telling myself! Adjustment!)
I am very glad to be home.
If these walls could talk…
I believe it would have a voice that sounded like Harry Enfield doing an impression of Margaret Thatcher.
Reciting codes of conduct, while side whispering pervy incidents to you while you sleep. Anytime you would mention a problem outloud the walls would swiftly open in on one of many tragic stories from its 100 year existence as a school, to showcase how good things are in the present. These stories fill the listener with gratitude until ultimately it begins slipping into sexist rants. “Women shouldn’t be allowed to vote while menstruating, it clogs up their decent judgments. That is science!”
You might be able to tell I am losing the plot.
I got sick. Then real sick. Then real real sick. And now I am just sick. Sick of being out of the social realms of life. Sick of feeling crazy tired 24/7. Sick of being in pain. Sick of fevers. Sick of being sick.
I cannot hold my concentration. I cannot work on my resume - which needs some tuning up! I cannot be a good wife, good house parent, good mum or a good me!
I have not been this kind of sick in a long time, my entire immune system just went on holiday. Leaving me to smush what is left back together.
What do they say when you are ill?
What can you not do at all when a stay at home parent…. you got it.
That part is the worst. I feel like crap. Peaches just wants to show me everything ever - as she is jazzed about everything. “A fly, mum. A fly! Fly!” Baby Girl, mommy is sick and does not give a rats patootie about what you can see in the windows, love of my life.
I am grumpy. I am grizzled. I just want to wrestle this illness into submission - but for now. I will take advantage of the girl being at nursery and take a nap.
Not an instructional blog but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth - so help me Mom.