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Okay, so where was I??? I believe we are at F.
F. Finally. It has been said that change is the only constant thing in this world but in the safe confides of our cozy home our day to day was our constant. I didn't feel like it changed much at all. The little noises, visiting lizards, the waiting extra long for hot water in the kitchen sink, the noise from the air conditioner, the neighbor’s light turning on in the middle of the night when he got home from working the night shift, the hum of the garage that sounded different from different parts of the house but that always let us know when daddy was home, the sound sprinklers kicking on at 5:00 a.m. reminding me that it was almost time to start a new day. The list could go on and on but these constants and so many more were our normal, they were our indicators that our little world was still ours and still spinning around the little, tiny axis of our lives there in that house. They were the quirks of our sanctuary that made it uniquely our own. I didn’t pay much attention to them until I was here, at our new house, and this house began letting me know of it’s Constants. I was here alone painting before we moved in late into the night and a monsoon came passing through. I was suddenly, keenly aware of the noises of our old house that aren’t here. I didn’t feel scared but, instead, very out of place. I locked up the house and headed home, eager to be surrounded again by the familiarity that my home offered me. As I walked through the door, I sighed a sigh of relief and through tears offered a prayer of gratitude for the way that our Home had served us. Through good times, and bad, sickness and health, potty training and an MBA, our home had been a constant refuge. As we packed up all of our belongings and the house became more and more empty with each passing day, the feeling of Home never lessened. I was back at the old house cleaning late one night after we had completely moved out and again a monsoon came passing through. Again, I didn’t feel scared, but sort of like my heart was neither here nor there. There is something about a raging storm that makes you want to go Home. And with each clap of thunder, I realized in that I was in the wrong house. That, in fact, it wasn’t the quirks of that house, or the comfortable smells and sights that made it my home. So I locked up and drove Home. And walking through the door that night and smelling a house that doesn’t yet smell like ours, hearing noises that weren’t familiar, fumbling with light switches and finding my way upstairs I became aware that this house too will rise up and serve us well. That it, too, will see us through potty training and sickness and health, and heaven help us, not another MBA. It is starting to feel like Home here. Finally.
G. Gratitude. “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.” –Melody Beattie
H. Holy Matrimony. I mentioned forever ago that Cole and Remi got married in June. That was my favorite part of summer. I got to spend time with my Brandi, Jahde and Daysen, see family and friends and see two delightful people take that leap into the unknown with a perfect brightness of hope that it would all work out. Two months into it and all is well! Click on their names above to see their blog documenting their sweet story that is still being written. I do love them so.
***All of the wedding photos were taken by an amazing photographer. Check him out!http://www.russdixonphotography.com/
More Alphabetization later.
It seems, since I was a child, my periods of writing in my journal have been rather choppy and when I take a long break from writing I feel so forced to “catch-up.” So I would try to catch up by writing lame, barely memorable details of my life and never really catch up at all and the vicious cycle would resume. A couple of years ago when I had a rather long break from writing in my journal I decided that rather than be overwhelmed by playing catch up I would just start in the here and now. It felt really good but I felt a bit guilty because I had missed so much of my life and the life of our family. Since this blog was originally intended to be a record of life as we know it here in the Kidd home from the perspective of the Kidd mom, I can’t in good conscience let all of the memorable events of the summer go without a mention of a few of them. (For the record, most of what I am about to write will have you wondering how I categorized the so called “events” into the events folder in my mind. I know that some of the coming thoughts may be more like fleeting moments. I am writing them anyway.) I haven’t been able to think of a fluid way to fill in the gaps so I won’t. I will do it in the flowingest/choppiest way that a person possibly could. In alphabetical order. Be patient it may take me a few days to get through this.
E- Eating in my sleep. I have, since high school, been known to eat in my sleep. It is a quirky thing that comes and goes every so often. Well it hadn’t happened for a long time and it isn’t a major part of my life because when it happens I am, well… sleeping. Anyways, a few months ago I noticed a bunch of crumbs in my bed. I started getting after the kids for eating in my room. They seemed perplexed but obediently agreed to stop. Well it kept happening and I was getting ticked at the blatant continuation of the disrespectful behavior from our children, as was Ryan. Well, one night Ryan was in the den working late on a case for the next day and somewhere between midnight and one in the morning I came sauntering into the kitchen. Ryan said that he could tell that I was walking in my sleep and sure enough when he came to bed later he found the source of the mess that we had been getting upset with the kids for leaving in our bed. Me. My snacks. So for the past few months I have been snacking in the middle of the night almost every night. Nothing major. It’s not like the movies where someone sits down and starts eating the Thanksgiving turkey. It’s usually a piece of bread or a granola bar. No turkeys. No chicken tenders either because that would be gross. Well, the sleep-eating was happening up until the night that we moved. Apparently, in my sleep I am too lazy to climb stairs because the midnight snacking seems to have stopped. There are advantages to two story homes after all. 
Alright, it is off to bed for me. To be continued…
