My head has been spinning a bit these past few days. Thoughts with relatives in the hospital, stupid unimportant stress at work, and the possibility of moving…
Moving. We’ve been here for four and a half years now. It’s not perfect, but it’s home. Our landlord is aging and wants to sell, he’s offered us the house, but I don’t know if I even want it or if its a smart decision. I’ve spent the week scouring the rental ads only to find exactly NOTHING that will work. Apparently as far as rentals go our house is a freaking steal.
Before she was born we had been looking to buy, and found a house that was in need of work, but our absolute ideal home. Then she came a few days later with her complicated heart and we blew through everything we had saved and someone else bought that beautiful home dirt cheap.
I had hoped we would have a few more years here, to get back some financial stability, to decide on a second child or not. Now it feels like those decisions are all closing in quite quickly.
This house is the only home she’s ever known. If we move on to another rental will it just be house after house? That’s not what I want for her. I want her to grow up in the same bedroom, with the same back yard, and the same neighbors.
Whatever we decide, wherever we land, I hope she handles the transition well. I think she will, as long as we are by her side.
Today she howled at the puppies as we left for the store. She’s really perfected her howl, it’s quite adorable.