The first week can be summed up as follows: when we weren't throwing up, we were doing school, checking out playgrounds and swimming in the swimming pool at our apartment. So far, the stomach flu has claimed John, Eric, and Elizabeth as it's victims. Kyle threw up on Saturday evening, but that might have been sympathy puking (or is it synchronized puking?) with Eric as he never had a fever and never had a repeat. As my SIL, KT says in her blog (http://justkt.wordpress.com/2009/05/03/poop-pee-and-puke-or-the-3-ps-of-primary-parenting/), great times, great times. I have been working hard to keep the germs at bay by cleaning sheets from beds after the victims have recovered, cleaning bathrooms after episodes, and sleeping on the sofa while Eric was feverish. Here are some other random thoughts as we have been discovering our new home:
* Ninety degrees feels better in Arizona than it does in Chicago. It may have been the fact that we were in the pool, or that we are getting really nice breezes. It may also have something to do with the heat index of Chicago, in which makes 90 degrees feel hotter. Of course, as one woman at a park commented, "This isn't really hot, honey."
* The three bedroom apartment is pretty nice unless you have a sick child which requires the other children to stay in the apartment all day while the sick child sleeps because there is no play area other than the pool. The cooking equipment stinks and I am missing a bunch of spices that I usually use. I didn't pack them because the van couldn't "take na more, captain!"
* Gymnastics places here don't have open gym times due to liability issues. This was one of the activities I was hoping to do as a way of checking out gym facilities.
* It is really nice to be able to make a local call without having to dial the area code (only those of you who live or have lived in the Chicago area will appreciate this.)
* I love mountains. Even small, cute ones like those we have surrounding the Phoenix area.
* I really hate the sound of retching. Dry heave retching is the worst! The only thing worse than the sound of retching is cleaning up the after effects.
* I am looking forward to camping in the Payson area. It is absolutely beautiful. And ten to twenty degrees cooler than Phoenix.
* I am missing the ability to use a library to check out books. We won't have that ability until we move into our new house and can prove residency. :-(.
* Between the stomach flu and random spills, the carpeting has been "anointed" many times. great times, great times.
* I cannot call any old friends or my family after dinner anymore without the threat of disturbing their sleep :-(.
* I have been able to get together with family from whom I have been long separated since I always lived in the Midwest and they always lived in Arizona. :-). This will be the first time the girl cousins on my mom's side will be in the same area ever!
I do have to keep reminding myself through all of this that God IS blessing us and we WILL make new friends (but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold) and we WILL find a church that feels like home again. And the greatest blessing is that Eric has a job that he enjoys. Thank you, God!
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
May 5, 2009
April 21, 2009
The journey
The packing is done, the movers are gone, the old house is as clean as Eric and I can possibly make it and all the good-byes have been said. Though moving is incredibly stressful, there are a lot of good things that come out of it:
* A clearer perspective on what is truly valuable. It took us two months making several trips to Goodwill, gifting things to friends, Freecycle and 1-800-Got Junk, not to mention six weeks in a row of overfull garbage and recycling bins.
* An incentive to get much needed house projects done. Thanks, Eric!
* An incredibly clean house, that is totally devoid of objects on the floor that will hurt your feet when you step on them in the middle of the night.
In the end, the house was much prettier, but also more unlivable and less homelike than what it was.
Now we are on our journey to our new home and our new life. This is much better. Yes, it does involve a lot of driving, some of which is in a vehicle where the odor of guinea pigs and their output is very strong. However, the kids have been good so far, especially considering that they have been up late most of the weekend. However, this is also a period of ambiguity. We don't have a permenant address and we haven't finalized the deal on the new house yet (hopefully in a few days we will know) due to inspection findings. In a way, it is totally freeing (as freeing as it can be with four kids). In another way, I feel totally unanchored, like a boat out on the ocean with no sail, no rudder and no oars. At least I DO have an anchor:
Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide, till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide; O receive my soul at last. (hymn written by Charles Wesley)
If you want to know the details of the trip, go to my husband's blog which you will find link on my blog site.
Blessings!
* A clearer perspective on what is truly valuable. It took us two months making several trips to Goodwill, gifting things to friends, Freecycle and 1-800-Got Junk, not to mention six weeks in a row of overfull garbage and recycling bins.
* An incentive to get much needed house projects done. Thanks, Eric!
* An incredibly clean house, that is totally devoid of objects on the floor that will hurt your feet when you step on them in the middle of the night.
In the end, the house was much prettier, but also more unlivable and less homelike than what it was.
Now we are on our journey to our new home and our new life. This is much better. Yes, it does involve a lot of driving, some of which is in a vehicle where the odor of guinea pigs and their output is very strong. However, the kids have been good so far, especially considering that they have been up late most of the weekend. However, this is also a period of ambiguity. We don't have a permenant address and we haven't finalized the deal on the new house yet (hopefully in a few days we will know) due to inspection findings. In a way, it is totally freeing (as freeing as it can be with four kids). In another way, I feel totally unanchored, like a boat out on the ocean with no sail, no rudder and no oars. At least I DO have an anchor:
Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide, till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide; O receive my soul at last. (hymn written by Charles Wesley)
If you want to know the details of the trip, go to my husband's blog which you will find link on my blog site.
Blessings!
March 21, 2009
Death and Moving
Doesn't that sound like a great title for a really bad horror flick with a Freddie Krueger-type persona terrorizing all the hosts on the HGTV home decorating shows as well as Martha Stewart? However, both of these things are imminent in my life right now.
My Granny Kloos is entering the final stages of life. She is no longer eating and her lungs are filling up with fluid. After living as a widow for over twenty years, living with fibromyalgia and other worries, she is finally starting to let go of this world. I visited her on Wednesday, right before seeing my brother, and my heart broke because she looked like someone entirely different from the feisty go-getter that I remember. I can only pray that God takes her quickly so that her suffering is minimal. I would like to spend a lot more time at her side so that she isn't alone much in her last days. She has two daughters and a grandson nearby who can be with her, too, but only for limited times. The rest of her grandkids and her two sons live far away and can't necessarily come. I have one huge obstacle preventing me from fulfilling my desire: the fact that we need to be in the Phoenix area before April 27th, when my husband starts his new job.
That's right, we have only a month to get the house ready for sale, find a new house in the Phoenix area, figure out what we need to pack until we move into our new house and say good bye to all of our friends and family. It is a little overwhelming. Fortunately, I have a wonderful husband who is doing most of the painting, finalizing other home repair projects and dealing with my emotions, which are a little unstable now (no comments from the peanut gallery about the overall stability of my emotions, please!). Also, I have a great God, who tells me to take one day at a time, helps me figure out what needs to be done and helps take away any guilty feelings I have for (simultaneously) neglecting my grandmother/friends/kids/husband/house and reminding me that this job and this move are truly a blessing from Him and that, even though there is some heartache in moving away from one set of family and friends, we are moving closer to another set of family and will develop a new set of friends. He also reminds me that even when no one person is with Granny Kloos, He is there, comforting her and helping her make the journey to Him in heaven, where He can "wipe every tear from (her) eyes" and "where there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain." (Revelation 21:4). Below is a hymn we learned in January that I have learned to love, in spite of the rather depressing title: Come, Ye Disconsolate.
Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish,
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts,
here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.
Joy of the desolate,
light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent,
fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter,
tenderly saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”
Here see the Bread of Life,
see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God,
pure from above.
Come to the feast of love;
come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove.
My Granny Kloos is entering the final stages of life. She is no longer eating and her lungs are filling up with fluid. After living as a widow for over twenty years, living with fibromyalgia and other worries, she is finally starting to let go of this world. I visited her on Wednesday, right before seeing my brother, and my heart broke because she looked like someone entirely different from the feisty go-getter that I remember. I can only pray that God takes her quickly so that her suffering is minimal. I would like to spend a lot more time at her side so that she isn't alone much in her last days. She has two daughters and a grandson nearby who can be with her, too, but only for limited times. The rest of her grandkids and her two sons live far away and can't necessarily come. I have one huge obstacle preventing me from fulfilling my desire: the fact that we need to be in the Phoenix area before April 27th, when my husband starts his new job.
That's right, we have only a month to get the house ready for sale, find a new house in the Phoenix area, figure out what we need to pack until we move into our new house and say good bye to all of our friends and family. It is a little overwhelming. Fortunately, I have a wonderful husband who is doing most of the painting, finalizing other home repair projects and dealing with my emotions, which are a little unstable now (no comments from the peanut gallery about the overall stability of my emotions, please!). Also, I have a great God, who tells me to take one day at a time, helps me figure out what needs to be done and helps take away any guilty feelings I have for (simultaneously) neglecting my grandmother/friends/kids/husband/house and reminding me that this job and this move are truly a blessing from Him and that, even though there is some heartache in moving away from one set of family and friends, we are moving closer to another set of family and will develop a new set of friends. He also reminds me that even when no one person is with Granny Kloos, He is there, comforting her and helping her make the journey to Him in heaven, where He can "wipe every tear from (her) eyes" and "where there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain." (Revelation 21:4). Below is a hymn we learned in January that I have learned to love, in spite of the rather depressing title: Come, Ye Disconsolate.
Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish,
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts,
here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.
Joy of the desolate,
light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent,
fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter,
tenderly saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”
Here see the Bread of Life,
see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God,
pure from above.
Come to the feast of love;
come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove.
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