We were up at 4:30am. On our first flight at 6:30am. We took three flights. Slept a bit. Made "To Do" lists and "Must Sell" lists and reviewed our calendar for the month of May. We stressed a little and then we took deep breaths. I felt sad flying into Houston and seeing all the green. I've loved it here - far more than I ever expected to.
We got home and hugged our kids - Mol tried giving me the silent treatment for a bit, but after a while she nonchalantly said, "Hi, Mom." Just like that, as she walked by and barely made eye contact. Apparently, Molly turned 13 while we were away.
We showed the Biggies pictures of the new house and wiped away Zoe's tears. Her room is smaller. There's no fireplace or stairs. "Why did they paint THOSE colors?" And we know what she wants to say is that she loves THIS house, not the one in the pictures. This is her home right now and the place in the pictures is the unknown and not as good because it is not the same. The pictures don't feel like this place. But we will make that place OUR place. We will paint and make new memories and fill that place with love and music and laughter and that place will be home. I promise, Zoe. I tell Zoe all the things she and I both need to hear. Telling my daughter these things makes me believe them more.
Finn is cool and calm. He wants a basketball hoop. He likes that there is a diving board. He LOVES that he gets to walk home from school. He's ready. "Let's go now." He's easy. He tells us Zoe cried every day we were gone, but he did not. He didn't miss me because he talked to me and got half a dozen emails and pictures from me every day. I think maybe he thinks I am over the top. It's OK, I am sometimes.
We tuck the kids in and then we rush downstairs to pick up and clean. We have another realtor coming out tomorrow afternoon to do a BMA on our home. So we cleaned for a few hours and tomorrow will be more running and stress and managing it all the best we can. We are lucky we have my parents here to help. This is all overwhelming and I want everything to be perfect, but I keep reminding myself not to make myself sick with worry and stress. All I can do is my best - I can't do every little thing. This house is beautiful. I've loved it and someone else will too. Even if it's not absolutely perfect - the right person will see its potential and know that this is their future home. Just breathe. Go to sleep (Daniel's asleep. Be like Daniel).
At least no one is going to yell BPD an hour from now.