Change

I really dislike change. Probably so much I would be tempted to say that I hate change. I'm the non-adventurous type. If you can describe me as that, since I do have 4 kids under the age of six. Anyway, it should be no surprise that I'm not liking this whole moving thing.

I'm typing this sitting in a room surrounded by boxes. Jaron came home from school recently and declared as he went through every room "Boxes!" "BOXES!" "Whoa, BOXES!!" And then he promptly went upstairs to play with our Flintstones car (or as I affectionately call it: the toy that will start WWIII) that was retrieved from the depths of the attic. Great entertainment and they probably haven't seen it in a year.

My life is out of whack and I just don't know what to do with myself. In high school, for entertainment my best friend and next door neighbor, Rob, would sneak into my room and rearrange my stuff. He did this for the sheer entertainment of annoying and irritating me. I could spot every change; even if it was a small quarter turn of a figurine on my book shelf. Of course, children have somewhat cured me of this obsessiveness of everything being in a particular place. Not only am I rearranging stuff, I'm rearranging my whole life. It feels so completely strange. I wish I could just go put it back into place like I could in high school.

I spent the majority of the last weekend in a strange sort of daze. I found myself frequently close to tears. Or more often than that, in tears. Why does moving have to be so hard?

This place has been good to us. Mostly and truly for the exceptional people I have associated with. Wonderful, wonderful people. My children's teachers. The youth I serve with. My awesome visiting teachers. Kind ward members. A librarian who knows my kids' names. An always cheery aquatics director. A dairy man and grocery checker who recognize me. Outstanding doctors. Irreplaceable neighbors, one of whom is like a treasured member of the family. How we love her! And friends I wish I could convince to come with me.

I don't know where to end this. In some ways, I wish this wasn't ending. {Insert blinking cursor here.}