Moving . . .

Welllllllll . . . after 18 months of living in a home that most people would find too small, I'm moving on to a place that is - in my mind - dramatically bigger than what I have had and, candidly, what I want or need but it feels like the right thing to do.

When I first moved out of our "family home" it was because it was time. Like most decisions made when "it is time" there were assumptions, presumptions, hopes, wishes, and prayers involved. I had no idea what a budget would look like. I had never really imagined what it would be like to share a child. There were huge question marks on what would happen with the house we shared and, frankly, its contents.

I am pleased to say that everything really did work out about as well as one might have assumed, presumed, hoped, wished, and prayed for. Candidly - I LOVE my little home. You know who doesn't? The kid. As great as a playground across the street, a park, grocery store, restaurants, stores, etc. we can walk (or ride razor scooters) to has been she has come to feel like there is not enough space for both of us in my house. And, if I'm being honest, she is right.

It was an interesting moment when my daughter came to me and asked for us to move complete with solid argument, poised body language, and everything short of a PowerPoint "deck" to put me away. I still remember the first time I held her - I weighed 80x what she weighed (literally). I didn't think the day would ever come that she would be able to influence me, make me think differently about anything, to make me move.

Yet - here we were - thirty minutes of chat later, we had a clear vision of what she wanted/needed (yes - we will even have a playground across the street from the new place (insert horribly inappropriate joke here about how all my homes are within 100 yards of playgrounds and elementary schools)) and a plan to make the move as soon as possible.

This was a "watershed" moment in my life's progression. I can think of maybe a dozen moments in my stubborn, self-guided, glib life that another person has approached me and said "THIS is what WE are doing" and I've agreed. It suffices to say that this was the first time it was a seven year old that pulled it off. It is also worth noting that her mother, a formidable woman in many ways, can lay claim to five or six of the remaining eleven moments (and it is also worth nothing that every one of those was because she really did have a better perspective, idea, etc. than I had on the same issue).

So. We move. Bigger space. Better collection of spaces and things that will keep us happy for a while. We started packing yesterday - and by "packing" I mean purging (we threw six trashbags in the trash, took three to the donation place, and earmarked a dozen more things for the trash heap). We're only taking the things we need and love.

We'll fill the new space with new things that we want and need and love. We'll continue to grow in the new house. We'll move forward. We'll move onward. We'll move.

Obviously I'll be deep in my self-dug "rabbit hole" most of this week so I'll try to get back in the flow of regular posting next Monday. If you want to be able to someday brag "I lived in an apartment where Famous Person and All-Around Big Deal Sean Amore Once Slept" - NOW is your chance (again). Take a look at the place and let me know what you think

If we don't type - enjoy the rest of January, y'uns.