Thank you for all the amazing comments on yesterday’s post. I am trying to reply to each of you in turn, but it may not happen. You are wonderful.
Also, congratulations to J and L with their new baby, E. The only reason I wish I were in London right now is that I would get to see her. If you have a moment, please go send your congratulations.
Things are not any better. I am grateful to all those who left kind comments last week or sent emails with their numbers, offering to talk. Unfortunately, one of the signs that I might be getting a wee bit depressed is that I honestly don’t want to talk on the phone. I avoid calling people back because the effort required by politeness is too much to muster.
I am frustrated because we are in temporary housing and cannot find a place to live. It is a buyer’s market, the experts tell us. What they don’t add is that sellers can choose not to enter a buyer’s market. The only folks selling right now are those who absolutely have to. So, the stock is low, keeping prices artificially high and making it hard to find the right house. Banks, however, are not keeping their appraisals artificially high, so even if we actually win a bid on a house (which we did), it falls through on bank appraisal (which it did).
And did I mention I am doing the house hunting with the boys in tow? Zachary has started to all-out mutiny. “No! I will not go!” he shouts. Thank heaven an old college friend lives nearby and goes with us.
So what? Temporary housing is no big deal. We have a place to live. And I know I ought to be grateful. But it is not a home and certainly not a place set up for children. It is difficult for the boys to spend much time here, a problem because Zachary is the kind of kid who needs a lot of down time puttering about his house. Which he does not have. So, we take them out of the house all the time, and it is taking a big toll on our little man.
Of course, he enjoys the outings, as does his brother, but they add up to too much time away from home base. Now, I will say he is getting some pretty cool outings. We recently bought season tickets to the home of the giant mouse, only a 40 minute drive away. We got Zach a guide book to Disneyland, and he sits there looking at the pictures, planning his next trip. I sit next to him with the Unofficial Guide, planning our next trip. Sometimes, our commonalities are frightening.
We have been twice already, and although they were both terrified of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, a little Dumbo time made up for it. The first time we were there, we visited Minnie’s house right off the bat. I wondered whether they might be frightened, but Zach was delighted. Benjamin, for his part, ran straight up and gave her a hug, even though he had no idea who she was.
And, on the car ride home, before he falls asleep, Benjamin sits in the back reliving his day. “Minnie Mouse, hugandkiss.” “Dumbo going up, Dumbo going down.” Beside him sits his brother, resplendent in the pink mouse ears he refuses to take off even in the car seat.
So, there are sweet times and lovely moments, but you cannot stay on vacation forever. Sometimes, the best part of a vacation is coming back to your life. And right now, there is no life to come back to.