We finally sold the house.
I am so grateful and I feel so fortunate.
After 15 months and 2 weeks of hopeful planning, double mortgage and utility bills, single parenting, birthdays and holidays. miscellaneous surprise project costs, growing children, secret lives, hiding, horrible coping mechanisms, scraped knees and shredded hearts, thank God for books and generous people, busted pipes, Border Collie CrAziNess, a leaking and flooded basement, family walks, Rocky Mountain vacation Hiking with 3 BEARS, neglected gardens and MONSTER tomatoes, dysfunction, but gusting vines and memes, disability, an ADD diagnosis and likely possibly more, LOVE LOVE AND LOTS MORE LOVE, spilt paint, blood, sweat, and tears, HUGS, learning unemployment pay is a fucking joke but being grateful all the same, losing a job for living and working in an “at will” state (and so much fucking money) but gaining a new start and a renewed faith in humanity on the knees of desolation.
HERE WE ARE.
We moved into our current home at the end of January 2018. It fits our family so much better. The yard has so much potential. The basement is a fucking mess.
It is done. It is off the budget, off the calendar, and off the agenda.
The house and gardens where I raised my kids for 8 years, 9 months, 2 weeks and a day; is now someone else’s vessel and home base of hopes and dreams. There, is where I planted my best efforts. On that land and under that roof I loved endlessly and laughed joyously. Yelled loudly and wept quietly, tempered anger and frustrations, successfully and not so much. It is sprinkled with a little sadness and defeat, but was fed a steady diet of endless hope and boundless optimism.
A lot of fucking hard work.
Earlier this week, we put together the housewarming items for the new family who closed on it yesterday. It felt right. It felt good. I wanted to make a card I couldn’t buy. So I did.
I made this card in my graphics program which was being super glitchy and frustrating. I was surrounded by my children. They sensed something in the air had shifted and I was intent upon finishing without fucking it up. I was focused on something other than them. Naturally, that meant be all up in Mom’s business so she can’t finish this last piece.
To stay on it and focused I started thinking out loud as I am apt to do, a lot. I can hear my thoughts better. I can hear myself think above the din of my beloved spawn. Peppered with comments and questions I carried on. I get anxious about anything I want to make special. Which then translates into a special form of performance anxiety.
I’m going to try not to fuck it up.
Yup. That is what I said.
My youngest came traipsing up right when that gem came out of my mouth and it quickly became a song with dancing and giggles sprinkled in.
Fuck it Uuuuuup! Fuck it up! Fuck it up! Fuck it up!
*twirls* with eyes closed for affect…
Fuck it UUUUUUP!
“No, I meant fudge it up.”
Nice try Mom but no bueno.
“Nooo. *giggle* YOU said fuck it up!
Fuck it Uuuuup!
I finished the card. Everything got delivered. It all went into the house new to the family who moved in yesterday. According to our old neighbor friends they were all smiles. It is good.
My 4 year old has added to her inappropriate word bank.
Fuck it up now resides next to What up Bitch in her lexicon.
I cannot take credit for that last one. I truly have no idea where she learned it but I want to blame YouTube.
And with that…
Fuck it up y’all!