“Mom, I love it here! I want to stay.” [Insert my sinking heart here.]
Both of my children separately uttered these words to me, unprompted, last week as we were going about our daily living. The kids love their new schools, this neighborhood, and their routines. Love with a capital L, maybe even LOVE with all capitals. They are happy, joyful, bursting at the seams, wanting, wishing that this place is Home. As in permanent home. Or at the very least, longer-than-11-months home.
Handsome Young Man and Diva Darling are excited for each and every day. No moping. No dread. No bullying. Just happy to be here. Present and in the moment.
I am relieved that this transition has been easy for them. (Maybe too easy!)
I may even pat myself on the back for making good choices that have benefited my family. Since the spring, I have prepared them as best I could about upcoming changes, handling themselves in new situations, making new friends, being themselves, and having the courage to try new things. It makes my head spin, thinking about how much has been thrown at them this past summer.
If the Queen Bee is calm, her Busy Bees should be calm too, right? Although if you truly knew how I handled this move, calm would not be the first word choice that comes to mind. Yet our hive has transplanted and is thriving and buzzing along splendidly in the Deep South.
My heart already sinks knowing that staying here is highly unlikely. That this time next year, we will be somewhere else, most likely a place we have never been before, with new schools, a new neighborhood, a new routine. I am already dreading the break-up.
I do not dread the relocation and all the details and decisions it entails. I dread detaching from here and putting on my brave face to be the newcomer yet again. It’s getting harder for me because now it involves watching how my children will detach themselves from a place that they have grown to love, watching them insert themselves in a new place.
I can only hope that they will continue to be excited for each and every day. Today. And one year from today in the new place.
But let me remind myself to not get ahead of myself. I am happy to be here. I am present and in the moment. Because it’s not even three months, and it’s love! Ok, love is a rather strong word. Although perhaps I am willing to say I am, surprisingly, rather smitten with Montgomery.
It is my children who, unintentionally, teach me that everything is going to be alright, when it is I who thinks I am teaching them life’s lessons.
Are you smitten with your current not-my-forever home?