Staying focused on the positive

We moved today, from a town of about 10,000 to a town of about 120,000. Quite a change, let me tell you. And it was a very long day, exhausting. Yet here we are in our new apartment, all of our things and furniture sitting in the living room waiting to be dealt with tomorrow. And that’s a blessing.

Lots of things could have been different and better today, but I’ve been trying to look on the bright side instead of the dark side.

It was 109 today when we were packing up the U-Haul, and I was finishing up packing the kitchen and cleaning up the house in Coalinga. It was hot in the house; I was too busy to think about turning on the swamp cooler until mid-afternoon. It was hotter outside – poor David. But on the bright side, it wasn’t raining! I can’t even imagine how hard and miserable it would have been to move if it had been raining, since there would have been no covered place to load the truck.

We had to drive all the way to Avenal to pick up the truck. It was twenty miles out of our way, either way, and it meant more time on the road, which of course meant more gas for our little Forester (who still needs a name, by the way; I’m open to suggestions). On the bright side, we got an extra 36 hours or so for the truck, so we didn’t have to take it to the U-Haul tonight at 9 pm, after we’d finished unloading. We can go to bed, and David can return it tomorrow. Plus, now we know how to get to Avenal.

We had wanted to get everything done quickly, but it took much longer to pack the truck than either of us expected because we really did have to maximize all our space, especially the vertical space. It was grueling work and took a long time. On the bright side, we were in Coalinga long enough to have a delightful lunch out with my Auntie Mary. We’ll sure miss seeing her several times a week.

Uncle Martin wasn’t available to help us drive the truck and unload this afternoon. On the bright side, he helped us load the truck in Coalinga, return borrowed furniture, clean the house, and rescue me from spiders in the laundry room. And when we got to Visalia (click on the link to see where we are), friendly neighbors helped David carry the big furniture upstairs to our apartment while I was putting Timothy to bed and unpacking the cooler (borrowed from Uncle Martin). A neighbour who is moving out even offered to sell us some of their furniture for a bargain.

I couldn’t fit our two frozen pizzas in the cooler. On the bright side, Uncle Martin bought them off of me, and we used the money to buy dinner tonight. And thank God for sweet tea at McDonald’s.

Packing the truck and cleaning the house took all day instead of just a couple of hours. It was hot and exhausting work, and we didn’t even leave Coalinga until almost six o’clock in the evening. On the bright side, it was a much cooler drive for Timothy and me in our non-air-conditioned Forester than it would have been earlier in the day!

I couldn’t get the wireless to work on David’s computer, so we’re going to have to call our provider on Monday and figure out how to make it work (unless my dad can troubleshoot remotely tomorrow after church). On the bright side, my computer is working just fine with the wireless router, so we do have an Internet connection!

Our apartment doesn’t seem to have hot water. The two showers I’ve taken here have been lukewarm when I’ve wanted a hot shower, the kind that soaks into your shoulders and massages away the knots. On the bright side, we have running water! And my shower was far from cold, which was another blessing!

In any case, as I said, several things about today could have been better. But I’m choosing to be positive and look at the ways in which God blessed us.

Moving on

The day after the Perseids, I started a post about memories of meteor showers past, but I never finished it, and I wish I had the time to do so. It’s the kind of blog post that needs extra time and energy because it’s actually creative. I miss doing creative writing…

Anyway, we’re moving again this week, to a new town. It’s all happened so quickly that I can barely keep up. But it must be a God-thing because everything just fell into place without any hitches. And as sad as I am to be leaving a church of people I’d sort of gotten to know, a library hour for toddlers, art-time for toddlers twice a week at the Imaginarium, and my fantastic aunt and uncle, it feels right that we’re moving on. Sometimes you can just tell. Peace. That’s what it must be.

Visalia is about ten times the size of the town we’re in right now, and I’ve already found the Walmart nearest our apartment. Yeah! You know you’re moving up in the world when you go from having to drive an hour to the nearest Walmart, to its only being five minutes away! :) We’ll also have our pick of many, many churches for worship and fellowship, so that’ll be interesting and hopefully good. I’d really love to find a playgroup for Timothy, or a MOPs group I can join.

So somehow we’re going to pack up the house, get it cleaned up, and get everything truckloaded over to Visalia this week. I’m swamped with papers to grade Monday and Tuesday, so it won’t be until Thursday or Friday, but I think it will happen. We’ve already found an apartment we like (it even has a pool!) within walking distance of work, so we’re excited about what God has in store for us. It’s a new adventure, and I’m absolutely determined to be positive about it!!

Returning at long last

I can’t give all the reasons for my having taken a vacation from blogging this summer, but I think I need to return, to some extent. I’m a writer. It’s what I do. It’s not a passion or a job; it’s like breathing. I don’t think about it. It’s an instinct, and these past two+ months have been a hellish withdrawal. Although many of my reasons for taking a break are still valid, I’ve realised that for my sanity and the wellbeing of my relationships with those around me, I need to write. Whether anyone reads it or not, I have to express certain things or I will spontaneously combust!

So here’s to blogging and to all you faithful readers who’ve stuck with me these past three years. Thanks for making the effort. I hope it’s been worthwhile.

Hiatus

For various reasons, none of which I really want to talk about, I think I'm going to stop blogging for a little. I'll try to keep up Timothy's blog when I think of it, but this one is just going to hibernate for a little while, along with my Facebook account. Don't ask me why because I won't talk about it! So thanks to all you faithful readers. I hope to be back sometime in the next year...hope being the operative word. Sai wata rana.

Cute tidbits

I thought the other day, as I watched Timothy play during a break from my work, I’m going to miss so much of his development because I’m sitting at a desk in another room. I envy the moms who are active in their toddlers’ development, the ones who plan activities, art projects, trips to see museums, etc. I sometimes try to do those things, but at this point in our lives, if I don’t work, we don’t eat. Not that any mom sits and watches her little ones 24 hours a day! But maybe if I weren’t working, I’d see more things like this:

• The other day, I was cooking dinner, and Timothy came into the kitchen to play. (He really likes to be in the same room I’m in if I let him.) He climbed up onto a chair at the kitchen table, put his plastic peahen on the table facing him, and proceeded to “talk” to it. He used a high-pitched voice and jabbered away at the little peahen. He stuck his face right up into the peahen’s face (it’s about 1-1/2” high) and talked to it! I had to turn around from the stove and just watch for the duration, which was several minutes. It was priceless!
• One day last week, I was really tired and went to lie down after dinner. (This is the first time I’ve ever done that.) Timothy came to me and brought me toys and books as I lay there. He climbed up and sat with me. When he brought a book, he lay down on my chest and let me read it to him lying down. When he left the room, he came to bring me his precious Pippin-Bear. Then he gave me a kiss and went out the bedroom door. Within seconds, he was back with his Pascal-Bear. He gave me a kiss again and headed out. But before he got to the door, he turned around and came to give me another kiss! This was so reminiscent of our nighttime routine that I just had to laugh.
• Yesterday, I turned around from working at the computer to look into the living room, where Timothy was playing quietly. (Quiet is always worrisome when you have a toddler!) My little boy was sitting across the living room, facing away from me, reading a book, and he had his little hat on! I can never get him to wear the hat, but he was sitting there inside, wearing it, happy as a clam!

These are just some examples of my cutie. I hope I get lots more of these glimpses, even though I’m working. At least I get to work from home!

Dreams

My name is Saralynn, and I’m a dreamer.

Every night, I dream. It’s been this way for as long as I can remember, and I’ve never really thought about it a whole lot.

But some nights, I do think about it. I’m no psychoanalyst, but every now and then I wonder if my dreams have any meaning. They’re never profound. Sometimes they’re funny. Now that I’m married—to someone who never remembers his dreams—I realize that maybe I’m a little strange. I can remember dreams from as far back as ten years ago as if I’d dreamt them yesterday. Is that unusual?

I come from a family of dreamers, too. My dad has told me that he dreams sometimes about being at school, ready to take an exam, and suddenly realizing he’s never attended class. I haven’t had that one yet, but then I only spent four years in college.

We do have two dreams in common, though. A few years ago, I dreamt more than once within a few weeks that my teeth were falling out! When I mentioned it to Dad, he said he’d had the same dream several times.

The other dream we share is the Travel Dream. This only began for me relatively recently, but it’s a real plague. I can remember distinctly at least half a dozen of these dreams—getting to the airport and not knowing what the flight number is or when the plane is taking off; getting to the gate and discovering we’ve forgotten to check in our baggage; deplaning and realizing there’s some sort of problem in customs… Oh yes, the Travel Dream is quite fun.

But some dreams aren’t fun. I remember clearly my first nightmare as a young adult. It was the spring of my junior year of high school, and it was just awful. I can still see the images in my head and shudder. It even had a monster in it, one I never actually saw but was running from after seeing all my friends killed.

And since I’ve been married, I think I’ve had more bad dreams than ever. My analysis of that fact is simply that I have more to lose now, so more things will disturb me. Sometimes, I’ve even woken up crying and had to wake David to comfort me. Weird.

Last night, I dreamt that Matthew McConaughey sent a car in reverse through a wall just to get someone killed. In the dream, it was someone I knew, and I was screaming, “Michael! Michael!” and scrambling to pull away the plaster and rubble. Then, when I arrived at the car, it was my baby boy, Timothy! He was badly hurt but still conscious, and I tried to get him talking to see if he still had any idea who or where he was. (This of course is dumb because he can’t even talk yet, except for a few words.) I ran all around the accident scene, trying to figure out how to call 911 and wondering how we would pay for the medical bill—all the while crying because Timothy was hurt.

Oy! What a dream! After something like that, I’m almost afraid to shut my eyes tonight. What will I dream of next?

Tammy’s stars

Last night I discovered that there are glow-in-the-dark stars all over the ceiling in our bedroom. I’d known there were a few clustered over our bedside lamp, but I hardly ever use the ceiling light (mostly because we have no curtains!), so I’d had no idea the stars were all over!

So many emotions went through my mind as I lay there in the dark, gazing up at my starry sky. One thought led to another, and I ended up crying myself to sleep…

…But I want to tell you the first thought I had. Actually, it was a memory more than a thought. I had the very distinct memory of sitting out under the stars with Tammy when I was 12.

We were at the seventh grade camp-out, and I’d just returned from a year on furlough in Los Angeles. It had been a difficult year for me, full of pain and loneliness, plus the normal grief of entering puberty. It had been, quite frankly, a hellish year for me. My poor parents tried to help me, but they had their own worries, and there was little they could do for me.

So I’d returned to Nigeria with such excitement and anticipation. I was coming home at last—to my friends, my school, my house, even my cat.

When I got back, though, I discovered that everything had changed. Everything. I had missed a year in the lives of people who had kept living without me. While I’d spent every day agonizing over my far-away friends and not fitting in at school or church in L.A., my friends had gone on with middle school as usual. The world didn’t stop turning when I left Nigeria. And of course, at 12, I thought it should have! I was devastated to return to a place that no longer had a niche for me.

On the seventh grade camp-out, we had some fun, and then the girls all started singing songs around the campfire—songs they’d learned in choir while I was gone. I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked quietly to the lake, sat on a rock, watched the stars, and cried. I couldn’t help it. I was just so disappointed. I needed to fit in, to feel as though I belonged. If I didn’t belong here in Nigeria, where did I belong? Certainly not in L.A.!

And after a few minutes, Tammy came down to sit beside me. I don’t remember if we said anything; I don’t think so. I think she just sat with me while I cried.

Finally, I’d had my nice cry and tried to laugh it all off. We looked at the stars together, and I told her that we’d rename the stars in Orion’s belt. One would be Reuben, one would be Monique (Tammy’s brother and sister), and the middle one would be Tamara. Those would be my special stars.

And I’ve hung onto that memory for the past 14 years. It’s one of my hardest and sweetest memories of all.

[From that point on, Tammy and I actually went our separate ways and hung out n two different crowds at school, but I learned to adjust as the years went by. And we’d had our magical moment.]

Our new home!

We moved! I spent all day yesterday and all morning today unpacking and arranging. We still have a sore lack of furniture for the amount of space we have, but we don’t actually need much.

So let me give you the grand tour, showing you each room (as much as I took pictures, at least) in its different stages.

Here’s the master bedroom. 

And the finished product! Notice the giraffe on the dresser. This piece of furniture has been in our family since my dad was a kid and perhaps even one generation before that!

This is the second bedroom, which we’re using as an office for now:

The living room:

The blue bathroom, which we actually liked blue:

We didn’t paint the kitchen, just cleaned it. But it still looks a lot better than it did!

And last but not least, the third bedroom, which is now Timothy’s room:

So that’s our little cozy home. We like it a whole lot! It will get nice and hot in the coming summer, but we’ll survive with our swamp cooler and ceiling fans. We’re just glad to be moved in and all set up! Now for some bookshelves…

And the funniest part is that now that I have all these microwave recipes, since we didn’t have gas for over a week in March-April, we now have no microwave! Ha!