misplaced mama

I may be writing too soon.  But today is the day there should be a signature penned on a contract that claims that this house will be passed on to another.  I can hardly breath.

Okay, maybe I don’t want to move.  This is scarry.  My kids, my house, my life.  For the first time ever, I have something to risk, to bruise, by taking off and moving. My children’s security, our financial semi-stability, and the lack of mold and humidit do make this place kinda attractive. I’m not a kid anymore, I’m a mama.  I should just stay…on this couch…eating cheese and watching the girls play ballerina together….

and then on the other hand…

Holy Effin Shit!  I am finally bringing my burning up bones to a place for a good long quenchin’.  I am heading down that path that presented itself to me; fearless, unattached, open to this journey. There is nothing keeping me from growing and expanding and learning more about myself and how my feet step around on this world.  There is nothing I want more than to slowly watch my children play as we wander up the coast, catching fresh fish for dinner and staring for hours in tidepools looking for slimy small shelled life.There is nothing more fulfilling right now than this health and wealth I have been given; to move and become more of me.

I hope that paper gets signed because yesterday we bought a slide-in camper, equipt with a kitchen, full stove and ‘fridge, 1 double bed and 2 singles, heat and air.  And it’s vin-tage, my friends, aka, 80’s ghettolicious.  Pretty much perfect for us and after doing a few things to it to funk it up a bit more; ripping up the small carpeted area and putting in some marmoleum (with 2 dogs and beach dwelling, I am not about to have carpet in there) and painting the cuboards a lovely shade of something and something.  And curtains, it’s gotta have some custom curtains. The girls loved it.  It cost us less than a grand and it’s just those cozy place with no distractions that our famaily needs to dwell in for a stint.

*** 

And now the anxiety has hit in.  I thought that by eating the whole chunk of double cream brie would help calm me down (I know I’m not suppose to dine on the soft cheese while pregnant but I thought it’s heaviness in my belly would just stop me from floating up to the freaking ceiling, it’s a bit crazy up there with no wings and all and I’d perfer my feet on the ground), but the cheese helped nothing and just made me constipated.   So much to do by October 8th if this deal indeed does go through. Where to I start? Breath.  Breath. Breath. Sit down.  Write. List.

Begin Packing for Big Move.  Luckily when the house got staged we packed over fifty percent of stuff, getting rid of most of it anyway.  But there is till quite a bit of organizing to do and let’s say I failed that subject in school. And Movers will be moving our stuff like a week before we actually leave…which means I will have nothing in my home while I live in for a week…hhhhmmmm. And the last time I packed a kitched we arrive with absolutely every plate broken into bits. And when I pack I tend to just sit and stare.  Into space.  For long periods of time.

Begin packing for 3-4 weeks of traveling up the Pacific Coast.  So then I have to seperate what will be needed as we three-quart camper-camp and one quarter hotel-it.  Starting out in the desert and then heading to warm southern California weather going all the way up to the damp and mistiness of our countries own personal rain-forest I am going to have to get tricky with packing for 3 different eco-systems. Organize a food supply list and girl’s stuff for entertainment while driving (art stuff? car seat trys? books on tape? travel I Spy? or screw it and let them look out the window and string cheerios on string?).

Buy warm clothes.  And rain gear.

Buy fishing gear. One of Mia’s birthday gifts is a fishing pole, actually.  Her dad and her are so excited to catch us some grub.

Buy Marmoleum for Camper.

Rip of carpet.

Install Marmoleum. 

Buy paint for camper. Paint it.  Take before and after photos. 

New eyeglasses so I can drive and not kill us. 

Order new double stroller for exploring new beach towns and get some walking in.

Order composting toilet and solar shower for the camper. 

Order transformer for my laptop so I can charge it on the road.  Writing this trip out and snapping some shots is my job this trip.  B’s is to be the full-time parent.   

Download about 1000 songs on I-Pod. 

Keep working on unofficial itinarary.  Drive slowly and stop often to play. Head to Grand Canyon for a night.  Then to Zion National for a couple more days. Then head to Southern California for 4 days, camping at Point Magu’s Sycamore Cove and planning a beach party for all our So Cal friends and family so we can see everyone at once. Then to Santa Cruz for a couple.  Big Sur and Monterey for about 3 (Make hotel reservations at Hotel Pacific where supposedly we can hear the sea lions sing all night long).   San Fransisico for 1-2. The Redwoods for an indifinite amount of time (book room at Arcata Hotel). Figure out where the best spots are up the Oregon Coast, spend 2-3 days in Portland. Seattle for a visit.  Olympic National Park in Washington where we plan on taking at least 4 days to explore.  Then off to the San Juan Islands by ferry and then by ferry again we land in Bellingham, somewhere around October 26th give or take. Ahhhh, deep, big sigh.  Just in time for the Hallow’s Eve festivities.

 Find a place to live in Bellingham.  Yes, that’s right.  We have no home there.  But I have visions of renting a smoochy little cottage with lopsided floors and walking distance to the water and downtown.  Then I guess we’ll play it by ear and allow that piece of land needing someone to take care of it come looking for us. Then we’ll build. Industrial Modern meets roots and culture. Okay, a bit ahead of myself now,  just start with what you know: pack.

***

Right before I was ready to hit publish the phone rings.

Baby? 

I don’t say anything because fear attacks me and paralyzes me.  What if….?

M? You there?

Yeah. I more breath it than say it.

They signed.  It’s a deal. 

B honored the moment of silence he was met with at my end.  I let the tears roll down and I slowly slithered to the floor and spread out like a pool of water, totally bodiless.  Relief. I was done.  I’m done with cleaning like a 50’s housewife at the ring of a phonecall.  I’m done dragging my girls out of the house in the middle of a nap or while playing so sweetly together and then throwing them in a steaming hot car just to drive around aimlessly waiting for a showing to start and end. I’m done with this heat.  I’m done with being surorunded by concrete.  I am done wishing for change and wishing for a needed earthy vacation with my family.  I am done with longing for the sea to be my neighbor.  I am done waiting.  Now I pass through the middle of this crossroads and walk the path that we have sweat clearning with our barehands.  Ah.  Blessed be this journey.