Anna Kate Donovan

Today I spent a large portion of the day packing my kitchen to move.  I HATE packing the kitchen or anything else that requires individual wrapping.  It is tedious, time consuming and it makes my head and back hurt.  Blech.

Not only am I packing but I am also clearing out and sorting.  The clearing out is absolutely necessary and once it is done I always feel really good.  That being said, sometimes it is easier to just put stuff in a box that you know you don’t need and pretend you don’t realize what you’re doing.  I’ve done that before.  I always regret it because then you realize that your house is full of crap.  Junk.  Things that no longer hold any value to you.  Things that spend their existence taking up space.  I’ve never even come close to being a hoarder but I have an idea of how it starts.  You rationalize the “need” to keep something forever even though you’ll never use it.  Then you come with a reason to keep the item next to the first item.  Before you know it, you’re a hoarder and you end up on a Dr. Phil special.  Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m being dramatic.  But it has to start somewhere, right?

The other objective in our packing is sorting.  We need to sort the things we absolutely must have to live and the things we can do without for a couple of months.  To understand this, I need to provide a little background….

Today was my husband’s last day of college.  For the second time.  The first time was 15 years ago.  He entered college right after high school.  Three years later he was in a difficult personal situation and got a job offer with a good salary.  Like any twenty-something would, he took the job and never got his degree.  Fifteen years later his VP job ended unexpectedly and we got the opportunity for him to come back to school and finish that final year of college.  He has done extremely well despite being the “old man on campus” and the year has flown by.

Now the job hunt is on.  It has been going on behind the scenes since March/April but now our focus is shifting to the job hunt full time.  Of course, nothing for us goes easily.  Our current landlord is requiring a long lease renewal with no early termination clause.  Therefore, we are moving to an apartment with flexible terms until Robert finds a job.  Hopefully that won’t take long.  Keep your fingers crossed.

Going through the loss of a job, returning to college married with 3 children and depending on the kindness of others to make it all work has taken a toll on us.  We are emotionally and physically exhausted.  Our marriage is as solid as a rock and like all difficulties we have faced in the past, this has brought us closer.  But it has been humbling.  It has also made us reassess the things that are important in life.  For the moment, however, the most pressing thing is making this move happen….

You can dump clothes in a box.  Stuffed animals too.  Dishes?  Not so much.  Blech……

Today is Abigail’s eighth birthday.  It’s also my 12th wedding anniversary and my parents 50th….but that’s beside the point…

I can’t believe that the oldest of our three daughters is already eight.  She will be starting third grade in a mere week.  It seems like only yesterday that I was presented with my first child after 13 hours of labor.  What a moment.  I was crying with joy while my husband was overcome with love at first sight and the responsibility of another human being.  Some people swear that having children doesn’t change your life.  It sure has changed ours…

It has been wonderful.  The sound of my children laughing is the best sound on earth.  I love watching them when they make a new discovery or grasp a new concept.  I love their creativity.  If I had written down every imaginary conversation they had when they thought they weren’t being watched, I would be a best-selling author.  Some days are glorious.  Of course, there are also days that I’m ready to pull my hair out and evenings when all I want is to have a quiet dinner with Robert and times that I am frustrated to the point of insanity.  But having children has taught me a lot about myself.  More often than I’d like to admit, I’m not as patient as I need to be.  I love kid’s movies…Finding Nemo and Over the Hedge still make me laugh every time.  I can make a righteous birthday cake and an equally fabulous Halloween costume.  I can calm a screeching two year old in less than a minute. I know the value of a trustworthy babysitter…but I still can’t make the two and a half hours between snack time and dinner time go by any faster…

For the first eight years, I have tended to Abigail’s every need, solved as many of her problems as I could and butted heads with her often.  I’m no idiot – I know the head butting will continue!  But I also know that she is entering a new phase of her life.  She is becoming more and more independent every day.  She knows people that I didn’t introduce her to.  She doesn’t need me to pick out her outfits in the morning. She has issues at school that I can’t deal with for her. I can’t solve the quarrels between her and her friends.  I can only be there for her to talk to and hope that she still wants to talk to me at all after the age of 12!  By now though, she knows how to be polite, how to consider others’ feelings, how to work the DVD player, how to call home if she needs me and how to follow our “house rules”.  She went down a huge, fast, twisty water slide for the first time a couple of weeks ago like she had done it a million times before.  She is still a child but she is no longer a little kid.

I am good at little kids.  I am a pro when it comes to babies.  I can manage 3 kids ages 5 and under with one hand tied behind my back.  But an eight year old?  Only time will tell….