I am here, half a country away from our (finally on the market) house. My husband is there, managing the myriad of details remaining to be completed. I listen as he vents his frustration about not enough time and too many things and not enough sleep. He listens as I try to find the energy to tell him about parenting an adjusting child who misses his daddy. We’re pretty disconnected, both focusing on the things that will get us all back together… ironic.
From here, all I can do is send photos to mimic and suggestions for priorities. I can look at houses in Seattle and try not to panic that they sell in a week for more than list price and are often tiny AND out of our comfortable price range. I can try to find patience for being the sole parent* for my adjusting child.
There isn’t a whole lot of doing I can do, though. Surfing realty is mostly making me anxious, so I’m trying to impose a moratorium for a few days. Not Doing is hard for me. I’ve done a better job of Being – putting my phone down, going for walks, not multi-tasking as I go from one room to the other or sit at a stoplight or have a few beats of silence – but Not Doing is, well… WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BE DOING WHILE I’M NOT DOING?
Yea. Clearly room to grow.
I’m going to focus on Hoping and Not Planning for a little while. I don’t really know where the line between “creating backup plans” and “settling” falls, so I’m going to try to not think, find faith, remember that things will change anyway, and wait.
Talk about a growth opportunity.
*I’m not solo parenting, by any means. I am living with two loving grandparents who do everything they can to give me a break and/ or help me and I have a nanny who comes in three mornings a week. I am the one parent here with Javi, though, so there’s only so much they can do (as opposed to my partner in parenting who can shoulder the load fully when we tag team).