I’m not really a mad woman. More like a sad woman. I’ve been trying to figure out why it is that this move is hitting me so hard. I don’t even like it here! Don’t get me wrong. It’s beautiful here. There is a quaint charm to it with all its farmland and rolling hills. I have a few friends here and the people I’ve encountered have been very nice. But it’s so much smaller than anyplace I’ve lived in years and years. Our mall is a joke. You can stand at one end and see the other end. You don’t even have to squint. And I’m not a big mall person! I think the biggest claim to fame for the mall is The Tilted Kilt. Fortunately, I’ve heard rumors that an H&M is coming and they have a Forever 21 popup in the mall right now. The other big news is that they are getting an Olive Garden finally! So yeah, small town living.
I spent years passing by the high school in our former state, thinking that’s where my kids would go. It was a huge school with a student population of probably 2700 students, grades 10-12. I mourned the fact that Rock Star wouldn’t get to go to that school with so many opportunities but it turned out her own little rural school had a lot of amazing opportunities as well. They had a gymnastics team! That was a huge plus. She was able to take Driver’s Ed as a class her sophomore year. Picasso took Hunter Safety one year in Health class. Rock Star took ag bio and helped raise a calf. She’s certified in something because of this. And they offered dual enrollment programs without it being a special program. She was very close to one of the teachers and thought most of the teachers at her high school were very good and cared about their students. The principal knew her by name. She feels like she is getting a quality education here and she loves her little high school.
Obviously, one of the reasons this is so hard on me is because of what I think it’s going to do to my kids. I worry about them. They are taking all of this so well though. I thought Rock Star was going to be a mess but just the other day she was telling me she thought we should move regardless of whether or not her dad got another job. She said that although she’ll miss her new boyfriend she realizes he is a high school boyfriend and it probably wouldn’t have lasted. She’ll miss her friends but she has decided the purpose of high school is to get an education so maybe she won’t even bother with trying to fit in. The only thing she says she worries about is who she’ll sit with on that first day of school.
Picasso hasn’t said much but then again he was always the one who said he didn’t mind moving.
So, I guess it’s just me who’s having a hard time and I keep trying to figure out why that is. I guess maybe it’s just all these transitions. I’m tired of them. When I was first married we moved 3 times in 6 years. One year in the city where we met and married. Two and a half years in the next city. Two and a half years in the next one. I got used to it and then we started staying put. Six years in one location. Eight in the next. I never thought I’d be leaving so soon. I didn’t necessarily like it here but I poured my heart and soul into it. I bought furniture for this house. I decorated. I turned it into a home. I put a pool in my backyard. I encouraged my kids to get involved. I went to football games. I chauffeured Rock Star around. I met their friends and had them over to our house. I have routes that are familiar to me and sights that I love. I thought I would be hosting holidays here in my new, spacious home now that we were closer. I thought this was the house that my kids would return to when home on break from college and when they visited after they staked out lives of their own. I thought my grandkids would swim in my pool and spend holidays here. And now it’s all over and I have to begin anew.
Maybe it’s the fact that I never thought I’d be returning home, especially not with my tail between my legs, utterly defeated by my incredibly stupid life choices. Now I get to pass by the church where we were married. I get to pass by the apartments we lived in while we were engaged and first married. I get to pass by the very first house we ever bought. It will no longer be a happy, “Look kids! That’s where your dad and I got married!” or “Do you want to drive by our very first house?” Instead I will go out of my way to avoid those places and if I can’t avoid them then I will do my best to avert my eyes so I don’t have to see them.
I’m slowly coming around. I’ll get a job. My kids will make new friends. I’ll probably still be poor and that’s really going to suck. Maybe I’ll surprise myself and find a well paying job with lots of benefits. Maybe the judge won’t fall for Cousinfucker’s ruse and he’ll hand him his ass. That would be fantastic! Life would actually be pretty damn great if that happened. I suppose for now I continue to ride this roller coaster and trust that in the end everything will work out for the best.