Yesterday we had our first open house.
Last week I said to Ryan, "Look. I'm starting to freak out a bit about the house not selling. We've only had ONE person come look at it in six weeks. We have got to get this going."
To say that I am beginning to worry is a bit of an understatement.
I completely understand that it has only been a short amount of time since we put our house on the market. But, the clock is a tickin' and time seems to be speeding up as our move to North Carolina is quickly approaching.
Let's put this into perspective:
Ryan's office opens Monday, January 19th. That's in two months and 9 days. Which really, isn't that far off!
Thanksgiving is in 2 seconds, and Christmas 3 seconds after that. Add in a trip down to NC to not house hunt, but house buy. Pack, close on this house (assuming that it sells in time), close on our house in NC, have two packed holidays, move, unpack in NC, and then Ryan's office opens.
Oh. My. Gosh.
With all of this looming right in front of us, we have to get down to business and sell this house. I can't even imagine moving and having two house payments to pay. That makes me want to vomit to be quite frank.
So! We dropped the price of the house and set an open house for yesterday. I was absolutely certain that once we dropped the price, we would at least get one showing last week before the open house - not!
I spent the latter half of the week cleaning, picking up, putting things away, etc. Then on Saturday and Sunday, before the open house, we really got down to work. Ryan took care of the outside of the house, and I took care of the inside. Ryan cleaned the kitchen sink, "Man does that look nice!" It did!
And the open house commenced yesterday from 2-4.
Ryan said, "I really hope we get a buyer." I said, "I just hope someone shows up!" Because let's be honest - at this point, I could count how many people had seen our house on one hand. Oh wait, one finger.
Good news. We had four couples show up! Two of those have their own houses on the market, and the other two couples have relocated here already. The two that have already relocated are by far the most perfect buyers for us!
Everyone LOVED it! My ill feelings of the first couple have subsided, and I love all of these people much better, ha!
And now we wait. Ryan told me earlier this evening that he will be so mad if his phone rings and it's TQL. He wants it to be our realtor. I told him that I wasn't going to hold my breath - it has only been 24 hours. Ryan's response..."I can hold my breath for a really long time."
Keep your fingers crossed!!
Monday, November 10, 2014
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Selling is Stressful
Selling a house is stressful.
I seem to have had quite the assortment of emotions since we put our house on the market six weeks ago. I'm excited for our new adventure, terrified for the same reason, frustrated that the amount of showings is something that I can count on one hand, sad to be leaving, happy for a change, and the list goes on.
I've only ever sold one other house in my short life, and that was my parents' house. Although that was quite a different experience, the feelings and emotions were quite similar.
I was 22 at the time that my Dad passed away.
I didn't put my parents' house up for sale for a year and a half after his passing.
Six months before I put the house on the market, I was told that someone - unbeknownst to them - had said, "I just don't understand why she hasn't sold that house yet." And this wasn't said in the kindest of ways.
I never confronted the person about what they said about me - behind my back - as I'm not interested in confrontation. But what I would have said, and still would say, is this.
I was 22, a newlywed, in the first months of my first year of teaching, and dealing with the death of my Dad.
During my plan time at school every day, I was sitting on hold with the energy company, water company, credit card companies, electric, student loan, banks, etc. for months figuring out how to go about dealing with my Dad's affairs. I was making trips to the lawyer at least twice a week for months. I was grieving the loss of my Dad, and my Mom two years prior, and attempting to continue on my with every day life and responsibilities.
Of course I wasn't selling my parents' house.
That house was all that I had left of them. It was the last place that I saw and hugged my Dad. It was where I grew up for 19 years. All of my memories are from that house - that yard. How on earth could I let that go so easily? It was all I had left of my childhood. It was all I had left of what had left me.
So, no. I didn't put my parents' house on the market for a year and a half after my Dad passed away. So sue me. It wasn't hurting you. I was the one taking care of it. I (okay, Ryan) was the one who packed up that entire house - by himself - and I was the one who kept everything in my house. I was the one who drove by that house multiple times a week to check the mail, and to make sure nothing was disturbed. I was the one who checked in with the neighbors who were keeping an eye on the house. I was the one who needed that extra time with the place that was home to me for all but three years of my life.
The point is, a house is a materialistic item, yes. But a home is not. A home is where memories are made. And that's why I had so much trouble letting go of my parents' home. And that's why I have so many emotions about selling this house.
Because it isn't about the house.
It's about walking through my home and remembering the day that we brought home Dean for the first time. Or when we painted the kitchen at night - just to get it done. Or when I told Ryan I was pregnant.
It's about the memories that lie within this materialistic place, that really isn't materialistic at all.
And as we're waiting to sell our house, I'm not eager. In fact, I'm okay with how "long" it may be taking - even if I don't act like it. Because that's more time that I'm able to walk through my house and remember, laugh, and smile about everything that we have created within these walls.
So here's to reminding myself to be patient. Because everything happens for a reason, and the selling of our house will happen at the right time. Here's to the memories that we continue to create, and to those memories that I will carry with me no matter which house we live in. Because I may not be able to take our house with us to North Carolina, but I will surely be able to take my home.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Write and Rewrite
I have written, and rewritten, this post several times now and I am consistently unhappy with it. I initially began writing about a friend at Dean's weekly gym class who just put her house on the market. Which turned into my anxieties of having an unknown moving date, which led into how I hope we don't move until the first week of January due to the holidays. Which led into how I want to spend Christmas with Ryan, Dean, and myself in our own house, which made me feel like I began to sound like a selfish brat that both of our families would be annoyed with. So I deleted it.
And here I am.
I have always enjoyed writing, but never truly loved it until college. My first semester of my junior year, I took ENG 304 with Mary Fuller. Anyone who has had the pleasure of knowing, or taken a class by Mary knows how special she is.
Our entire semester with her would be finalized by a portfolio as our final exam. We could write about anything. I was instantly frustrated as I had no idea what to write about. I had just come off of the worst summer of my life where I had read 16 books, ate a pint of ice cream every night for two months, and dealt with the death of my Mom.
I hope you know where this is going.
My Dad and I had just argued a week before my first class with Mary about my Mom's clothes, and I was, to say the least, a bit on edge. I had serious anxiety going back to Miami and being around the people that I had abruptly left at the end of my sophomore year, who knew what I had been through, but whom I hadn't yet faced. I was a ball of serious emotion.
And then I instantly knew what to write about. As obvious as it seems, it took me quite a while to figure it out - my Mom. I would use this class to write a tribute to my Mom who had passed away less than four months before.
This is where I began to love writing. I would sit down at my computer in my apartment and stare blankly at the screen and think. I could sit there for a long time, just not knowing what to say, but knowing that I had something to say. And then I began to write.
And what I ended up compiling in that one semester is some of my best, most truthful, raw, emotion filled, and honest writing. I couldn't be more proud of what I wrote.
I have always been quite wary to share my writing with others, always wondering if it is any "good." On one of the last days of class with Mary, we each had to read a piece of our portfolio to the class. I chose to read a two voice poem about my Mom and mine's last conversation. My amazingly strong friend Kristin read it with me. This was the first time that I publicly acknowledged that my Mom had recently passed away. I was shaking before I read it - and to note, it makes me just as nervous to this day as I have some serious butterflies in my stomach right now. Kristin read her part of my poem with her head down and her hands on the sides of her face, and I sat with my hands squished between my legs.
And we read.
And when we finished and I looked up, my writing was finally validated. I am a good writer.
Because when I looked up, I saw tears falling from each and every one of my peers' faces. The three boys that were in our class were wiping the tears from their faces, others sniffling, some looking down, some staring at me. And I smiled.
My writing did that. My writing caused this raw emotion in people that I had only known in class for 16 weeks. My writing made people feel.
Kristin held my hand as we read it one more time.
I suppose the purpose of this story is to remind myself that I should not be afraid to write what I feel in my heart. Whether it "feels" good or not, I have something to say. I cannot guarantee a happy outcome for my readers, but I can always guarantee that I will feel good about what I have to say.
So here's to not feeling ashamed about writing what I want to write. I will always be my worst critic, and I will always have a reader that does not like what I have to say. But the only way to know if I am a good writer or not, is to actually write.
So next time, when I'm afraid to write what I'm feeling because I'm afraid that I will offend someone, or hurt someones feelings, I will remember how free I felt that day during my junior year in Mary's class. How free I felt once I finally voiced what I had been feeling for so many months.
Here's to always remembering that you have a voice and knowing how to use it. Because the only misfortune that you can cause by your writing, is by not writing at all.
-Beth
And here I am.
I have always enjoyed writing, but never truly loved it until college. My first semester of my junior year, I took ENG 304 with Mary Fuller. Anyone who has had the pleasure of knowing, or taken a class by Mary knows how special she is.
Our entire semester with her would be finalized by a portfolio as our final exam. We could write about anything. I was instantly frustrated as I had no idea what to write about. I had just come off of the worst summer of my life where I had read 16 books, ate a pint of ice cream every night for two months, and dealt with the death of my Mom.
I hope you know where this is going.
My Dad and I had just argued a week before my first class with Mary about my Mom's clothes, and I was, to say the least, a bit on edge. I had serious anxiety going back to Miami and being around the people that I had abruptly left at the end of my sophomore year, who knew what I had been through, but whom I hadn't yet faced. I was a ball of serious emotion.
And then I instantly knew what to write about. As obvious as it seems, it took me quite a while to figure it out - my Mom. I would use this class to write a tribute to my Mom who had passed away less than four months before.
This is where I began to love writing. I would sit down at my computer in my apartment and stare blankly at the screen and think. I could sit there for a long time, just not knowing what to say, but knowing that I had something to say. And then I began to write.
And what I ended up compiling in that one semester is some of my best, most truthful, raw, emotion filled, and honest writing. I couldn't be more proud of what I wrote.
I have always been quite wary to share my writing with others, always wondering if it is any "good." On one of the last days of class with Mary, we each had to read a piece of our portfolio to the class. I chose to read a two voice poem about my Mom and mine's last conversation. My amazingly strong friend Kristin read it with me. This was the first time that I publicly acknowledged that my Mom had recently passed away. I was shaking before I read it - and to note, it makes me just as nervous to this day as I have some serious butterflies in my stomach right now. Kristin read her part of my poem with her head down and her hands on the sides of her face, and I sat with my hands squished between my legs.
And we read.
And when we finished and I looked up, my writing was finally validated. I am a good writer.
Because when I looked up, I saw tears falling from each and every one of my peers' faces. The three boys that were in our class were wiping the tears from their faces, others sniffling, some looking down, some staring at me. And I smiled.
My writing did that. My writing caused this raw emotion in people that I had only known in class for 16 weeks. My writing made people feel.
Kristin held my hand as we read it one more time.
I suppose the purpose of this story is to remind myself that I should not be afraid to write what I feel in my heart. Whether it "feels" good or not, I have something to say. I cannot guarantee a happy outcome for my readers, but I can always guarantee that I will feel good about what I have to say.
So here's to not feeling ashamed about writing what I want to write. I will always be my worst critic, and I will always have a reader that does not like what I have to say. But the only way to know if I am a good writer or not, is to actually write.
So next time, when I'm afraid to write what I'm feeling because I'm afraid that I will offend someone, or hurt someones feelings, I will remember how free I felt that day during my junior year in Mary's class. How free I felt once I finally voiced what I had been feeling for so many months.
Here's to always remembering that you have a voice and knowing how to use it. Because the only misfortune that you can cause by your writing, is by not writing at all.
-Beth
Monday, October 20, 2014
"You're going to love it."
When people find out that we are moving south, and specifically to Raleigh, NC, they almost always say, "You know you're going to love it."
Well, here's a little secret. I DO hope I love it!
Why on earth would I want to live somewhere that I hate? I absolutely hope that I love it. Just from the five days we spent down there in March, I love it. It's gorgeous. There's SO much to do, the people are amazing, they have a Target, and a McAllister's - I'm pretty set.
But then people follow that comment up with this one, "And you're not going to want to come back."
Well, I'm sorry to bust your bubble, but yes, I am going to want to come back.
If you know me at all, I mean, if you really know me, you know that I want to come back. I honestly cannot imagine living away from both of our families for the rest of our lives. I know that people do it all of the time, I get that, but not me. I cannot simply leave behind everything that has influenced me, and made me who I am.
I want Dean to grow up going to Reds games like I did, I want him to go to Kings Island, see the WEBN fireworks, experience snow and the crazy Cincinnati weather. I want him to know and be close to everyone in our extended families.
Ryan and I are all about family. My parents raised me to know and love my family and to be close to them. Ryan as well. I would never keep Dean and whatever other kids we may have, away from my aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.
I personally cannot imagine never driving the streets that I grew up on and know so well again. I cannot imagine not seeing my best friend's little girl grow up, or not being able to go to my best friend's house or hang out with her whenever I want. I cannot imagine leaving my parents behind.
I often times laugh when people say this comment to me, but inside I am often times irritated. It's as if they don't believe me. And well, if you actually knew me, you'd know I'm coming home.
Are we going to have an amazing time in Raleigh? Yes. Are we going to love it? Yes. Are we going to be sad to leave? Yes. But are we going to come home - home to our families and everything we have ever known? Absolutely.
So here's to being excited for a new adventure and to knowing that I'm going to love North Carolina. But here's also to knowing where my heart truly lies, and that's here. Here in Cincinnati. Where my parents grew up, where I grew up, and where I want my kids to grow up.
xoxo,
Beth
Well, here's a little secret. I DO hope I love it!
Why on earth would I want to live somewhere that I hate? I absolutely hope that I love it. Just from the five days we spent down there in March, I love it. It's gorgeous. There's SO much to do, the people are amazing, they have a Target, and a McAllister's - I'm pretty set.
But then people follow that comment up with this one, "And you're not going to want to come back."
Well, I'm sorry to bust your bubble, but yes, I am going to want to come back.
If you know me at all, I mean, if you really know me, you know that I want to come back. I honestly cannot imagine living away from both of our families for the rest of our lives. I know that people do it all of the time, I get that, but not me. I cannot simply leave behind everything that has influenced me, and made me who I am.
I want Dean to grow up going to Reds games like I did, I want him to go to Kings Island, see the WEBN fireworks, experience snow and the crazy Cincinnati weather. I want him to know and be close to everyone in our extended families.
Ryan and I are all about family. My parents raised me to know and love my family and to be close to them. Ryan as well. I would never keep Dean and whatever other kids we may have, away from my aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.
I personally cannot imagine never driving the streets that I grew up on and know so well again. I cannot imagine not seeing my best friend's little girl grow up, or not being able to go to my best friend's house or hang out with her whenever I want. I cannot imagine leaving my parents behind.
I often times laugh when people say this comment to me, but inside I am often times irritated. It's as if they don't believe me. And well, if you actually knew me, you'd know I'm coming home.
Are we going to have an amazing time in Raleigh? Yes. Are we going to love it? Yes. Are we going to be sad to leave? Yes. But are we going to come home - home to our families and everything we have ever known? Absolutely.
So here's to being excited for a new adventure and to knowing that I'm going to love North Carolina. But here's also to knowing where my heart truly lies, and that's here. Here in Cincinnati. Where my parents grew up, where I grew up, and where I want my kids to grow up.
xoxo,
Beth
First Showing
One week ago, Ryan and I were sitting on the couch analyzing how we thought our first showing went. That's right. We had our first showing last Monday.
I texted Ryan Monday morning stating, "I'm not cleaning today. Sorry."
I knew I should have all weekend and talked about it constantly. But with a little boy that just wanted to snuggle due to his croup and yelled, "MOM" whenever I walked away, I didn't have the heart to go clean. So I figured I'd do it Monday.
Well, when Monday rolled around, I simply wasn't interested. And I let Ryan know.
Not even ten minutes after I told Ryan I was protesting cleaning, I got a text message reading, "First showing, 5:00-6:30. More details, click below."
Oh. My. Gosh.
I began to panic.
There was piled up mail on the kitchen table, jackets not hung up, books and laptops not in their usual places - I had my work cut out for me. Now, it was only a little after 11:00, but my mind was racing in a million directions thinking about what needed to get done in order to make the house "picture perfect." I honestly didn't know where to start. I even said out loud to myself, "Beth, calm down. Start in one room and work your way around." I had to do the basics: vacuum, Swiffer the hardwood, pick everything up. etc. But then I had to fold and put away all of the laundry that I had done over the weekend (6 loads), do one more load of towels that were out (no one is interested in visiting your house and seeing your shower towels drying over the shower curtain), make the bed, clean the toilets, the bathrooms...oh my goodness.
I fed Dean lunch quickly and decided that I had zero time to sit down and eat. Time was valuable at this point, and I got to work.
Honestly, I don't know how I got so lucky, but Dean was amazing. He played in his pack n' play without much complaining, jumped in his jumper, and took a decent nap so that I could fold all of the laundry. I thought that I had all of the time in the world at 11:00. But when it was 3:30 and I still had to vacuum, Swiffer the floors, etc. I began to panic.
At 4:45 I was Swiffering the downstairs as fast as I could and saying, out loud, "Please don't come early! Please don't come early!" I had just enough time to finish Swiffering, get the dog and Dean, get the laundry basket full of stuff I'd thrown in that I didn't have time to deal with (shout out to Jamie for that tip!), get in the car and go.
That's right. I had to take Dean and our dog with me on this fun hour and a half adventure we were about to have. I was out the door with everything and everyone at 4:53, sweating, hungry, and red faced.
So now what? What do you do for an hour and a half with a dog and one year old? Well, we first drove across town to Mason to get a Kidd Coffee - a well deserved treat for all of my hard work - as I knew that would eat up a good chunk of time. Then we came back to the neighborhood and I parked across the street at the park. Ryan met us there when he got off of work.
Now, going to the park is 100% the best place to spy on who is looking at our house. I got back home around 5:50 and no one was there. When Ryan got there at 6:00 - they were there! We tried really hard not to pace back in forth in front of the house, but we would check periodically to see if they were gone or not.
They left at 6:40 and we began our speculations. When are we going to hear anything? Do you think they liked it? How could they not!? Is Carolyn going to call us? We spent the rest of the night laying on the couch in an excited frenzy.
On Tuesday morning I texted Ryan and said, "Anything!?" He answered, "Just emailed you."
Perfect.
Not.
We got feedback from the couple's realtor - they basically hated it. The price was too high. They liked the laundry room on the second floor and vaulted ceiling in the master bedroom, but thought the rest was outdated. I'm sorry. OUTDATED!? This must be some type of a sick joke. Our house wasn't built in the 1800s, it was built in 2002. How "outdated" could our house be exactly? You mean the year old hardwood floors throughout the house, the year old carpet, the year old stainless steal appliances, the newly renovated bathroom on the first floor, the entire house that has been painted?
I instantly called Ryan and said something along the lines of, "Are they serious!? What idiots! They obviously didn't do their homework! What do they mean it's OUTDATED. Did they even look at the house?! I'm so offended!"
That's right. I took this 100% personally. But how can you not? I know I shouldn't, but that's so much easier said than done. I know that we only need one person to love it, but it's difficult to not take something personally when you've put a lot of time and effort into it, and that holds so many memories for you.
So now we wait - again. I'm planning on cleaning tomorrow, so I'm sure no one will want to see it then. I was positive they would want to today when we had a day full of plans. Thank goodness I got lucky on that one!
Here's to keeping a positive attitude and to being happy that we have a few more weeks at home. Because really, I am.
xoxo,
Beth
I texted Ryan Monday morning stating, "I'm not cleaning today. Sorry."
I knew I should have all weekend and talked about it constantly. But with a little boy that just wanted to snuggle due to his croup and yelled, "MOM" whenever I walked away, I didn't have the heart to go clean. So I figured I'd do it Monday.
Well, when Monday rolled around, I simply wasn't interested. And I let Ryan know.
Not even ten minutes after I told Ryan I was protesting cleaning, I got a text message reading, "First showing, 5:00-6:30. More details, click below."
Oh. My. Gosh.
I began to panic.
There was piled up mail on the kitchen table, jackets not hung up, books and laptops not in their usual places - I had my work cut out for me. Now, it was only a little after 11:00, but my mind was racing in a million directions thinking about what needed to get done in order to make the house "picture perfect." I honestly didn't know where to start. I even said out loud to myself, "Beth, calm down. Start in one room and work your way around." I had to do the basics: vacuum, Swiffer the hardwood, pick everything up. etc. But then I had to fold and put away all of the laundry that I had done over the weekend (6 loads), do one more load of towels that were out (no one is interested in visiting your house and seeing your shower towels drying over the shower curtain), make the bed, clean the toilets, the bathrooms...oh my goodness.
I fed Dean lunch quickly and decided that I had zero time to sit down and eat. Time was valuable at this point, and I got to work.
Honestly, I don't know how I got so lucky, but Dean was amazing. He played in his pack n' play without much complaining, jumped in his jumper, and took a decent nap so that I could fold all of the laundry. I thought that I had all of the time in the world at 11:00. But when it was 3:30 and I still had to vacuum, Swiffer the floors, etc. I began to panic.
At 4:45 I was Swiffering the downstairs as fast as I could and saying, out loud, "Please don't come early! Please don't come early!" I had just enough time to finish Swiffering, get the dog and Dean, get the laundry basket full of stuff I'd thrown in that I didn't have time to deal with (shout out to Jamie for that tip!), get in the car and go.
That's right. I had to take Dean and our dog with me on this fun hour and a half adventure we were about to have. I was out the door with everything and everyone at 4:53, sweating, hungry, and red faced.
So now what? What do you do for an hour and a half with a dog and one year old? Well, we first drove across town to Mason to get a Kidd Coffee - a well deserved treat for all of my hard work - as I knew that would eat up a good chunk of time. Then we came back to the neighborhood and I parked across the street at the park. Ryan met us there when he got off of work.
Now, going to the park is 100% the best place to spy on who is looking at our house. I got back home around 5:50 and no one was there. When Ryan got there at 6:00 - they were there! We tried really hard not to pace back in forth in front of the house, but we would check periodically to see if they were gone or not.
They left at 6:40 and we began our speculations. When are we going to hear anything? Do you think they liked it? How could they not!? Is Carolyn going to call us? We spent the rest of the night laying on the couch in an excited frenzy.
On Tuesday morning I texted Ryan and said, "Anything!?" He answered, "Just emailed you."
Perfect.
Not.
We got feedback from the couple's realtor - they basically hated it. The price was too high. They liked the laundry room on the second floor and vaulted ceiling in the master bedroom, but thought the rest was outdated. I'm sorry. OUTDATED!? This must be some type of a sick joke. Our house wasn't built in the 1800s, it was built in 2002. How "outdated" could our house be exactly? You mean the year old hardwood floors throughout the house, the year old carpet, the year old stainless steal appliances, the newly renovated bathroom on the first floor, the entire house that has been painted?
I instantly called Ryan and said something along the lines of, "Are they serious!? What idiots! They obviously didn't do their homework! What do they mean it's OUTDATED. Did they even look at the house?! I'm so offended!"
That's right. I took this 100% personally. But how can you not? I know I shouldn't, but that's so much easier said than done. I know that we only need one person to love it, but it's difficult to not take something personally when you've put a lot of time and effort into it, and that holds so many memories for you.
So now we wait - again. I'm planning on cleaning tomorrow, so I'm sure no one will want to see it then. I was positive they would want to today when we had a day full of plans. Thank goodness I got lucky on that one!
Here's to keeping a positive attitude and to being happy that we have a few more weeks at home. Because really, I am.
xoxo,
Beth
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Please DON'T come to see my house today
For the past two weeks my phone has been permanently attached to me. I'm constantly checking it to see if my realtor emailed me, or if I missed a call from her. I've been praying daily that someone will want to come and see our house.
I've even said to Ryan, "Do you think anyone will ever want to see our house!?"
And he so kindly replies, "Beth. It has been two weeks."
Right again, dangit.
But today was different. I was praying that no one would want to come see our house.
At just about this time yesterday, when Dean got up from his nap, I heard a fun barking sound - that wasn't our dog. "Are you kidding me. That's freaking croup," I said to no one in particular. Crap.
So this morning as I'm getting ready and giving Dean a bath, I'm praying that no one will want to come see our house. I had to take Dean to the doctor and of course that would be the time I would get a phone call saying that someone would like to be there in an hour. Well, I have a sick kid, a napping dog (I assume, but that's 80% of his daily activities), and a house that isn't presentable.
Not today.
So far so good.
It's amazing what we pray or wish for on a daily basis, and how quickly that can change. I have honestly been obsessed with checking my phone for any indication that someone called me. It has been, admittedly, ridiculous.
But today I couldn't imagine having a sick baby at the doctor, with a possible trip downtown to Children's for breathing treatments, and someone saying, "Why yes. Today, this rainy, lovely day, we would like to see your house. See you in 30!" I may have cried.
Well, God is great - as always - and He's constantly looking out for us.
Dean luckily reacted well to the steroid injection that he received at the doctors office, which prevented any immediate trips to Children's. You wouldn't even know that he's sick just by looking at him. He just climbed on the couch and shut all of the blinds, and handed me my usual musical instrument - the egg shaker. And just got mad that I wouldn't let him touch the computer. Typical.
So thank God - literally, thank God, that today has just been a sick day in the Morrow household and nothing more.
Here's to getting better and a - fingers crossed - sleep filled night for all.
Oh, and for me going to get my hair cut. No but seriously. Ryan, I have to leave in 50 minutes.
xoxo,
Beth
I've even said to Ryan, "Do you think anyone will ever want to see our house!?"
And he so kindly replies, "Beth. It has been two weeks."
Right again, dangit.
But today was different. I was praying that no one would want to come see our house.
At just about this time yesterday, when Dean got up from his nap, I heard a fun barking sound - that wasn't our dog. "Are you kidding me. That's freaking croup," I said to no one in particular. Crap.
So this morning as I'm getting ready and giving Dean a bath, I'm praying that no one will want to come see our house. I had to take Dean to the doctor and of course that would be the time I would get a phone call saying that someone would like to be there in an hour. Well, I have a sick kid, a napping dog (I assume, but that's 80% of his daily activities), and a house that isn't presentable.
Not today.
So far so good.
It's amazing what we pray or wish for on a daily basis, and how quickly that can change. I have honestly been obsessed with checking my phone for any indication that someone called me. It has been, admittedly, ridiculous.
But today I couldn't imagine having a sick baby at the doctor, with a possible trip downtown to Children's for breathing treatments, and someone saying, "Why yes. Today, this rainy, lovely day, we would like to see your house. See you in 30!" I may have cried.
Well, God is great - as always - and He's constantly looking out for us.
Dean luckily reacted well to the steroid injection that he received at the doctors office, which prevented any immediate trips to Children's. You wouldn't even know that he's sick just by looking at him. He just climbed on the couch and shut all of the blinds, and handed me my usual musical instrument - the egg shaker. And just got mad that I wouldn't let him touch the computer. Typical.
So thank God - literally, thank God, that today has just been a sick day in the Morrow household and nothing more.
Here's to getting better and a - fingers crossed - sleep filled night for all.
Oh, and for me going to get my hair cut. No but seriously. Ryan, I have to leave in 50 minutes.
xoxo,
Beth
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Happy Birthday
Friendship is a funny thing. There are so many people in our lives that come and go, break our hearts, tear us down, bring us up, and the list goes on. But friendship is different. If you are lucky enough to find it - truly find it - it is magical.
I'm sure that we can all name our childhood best friend. I can. We were friends for sixteen years.
But what about your best friend as an adult? And I'm talking besides your spouse. Ryan is my best friend of course, but he's also my husband.
I'm talking about that one person that simply holds the title of your best friend. That one person that you can call in the middle of the night and they won't get mad, who knows you inside and out, who you can tell anything to, who you can call just to say hi, who you can cry with, laugh with, cheer up, make fun of.
I am fortunate enough to have that person. And in fact, today is her birthday.
I met Courtney when we were in college and I couldn't figure her out for a long time. She's the most sarcastic person I have ever met and she's hilarious. She will even admit that it takes a while to get her, but once you do, you'll love her.
I haven't had a friend like her in years. We talk every single day. She calls me when she's leaving work and we talk for a minimum of 45 minutes. About anything, She knows me so well it's scary. We discuss shows that we both love to watch, we talk about our kids (who are 3 months and 3 days apart - clearly meant to be best friends as well), our families, you name it. Everything.
She calls me out, tells me how it is, but then she also reassures me, and is ALWAYS on my side no matter how ridiculous the situation.
I am so blessed.
She will most likely hate this sappiness that I'm writing, but that's okay. We balance each other out.
She is my best friend, but she's also just like family. She was with me when I got engaged, when we graduated college, when I got married, when I was pregnant, when I had Dean, when both of my parents passed away, and everything in between. She is one of the few people that has never left me. She is my family.
Because see, friends come and go. They teach us life lessons, whether good or bad, but the really, really good ones, they always stick around through the good AND the bad.
I am beyond blessed to have Courtney in my life and to call her my best friend. We have been through so much together, and because of that, I know that our friendship will last a lifetime. I mean, we already agreed that when our kids marry each other, it'll be perfect because our husbands already get along and we won't have to deal with any unpredictable family-in-laws.
So here's to telling your best friend that you love them and that you will always be there for them. Because you never know when they'll become your family. Happy birthday to my best friend Courtney. Talk to you in 5 seconds.
xoxo,
Beth
I'm sure that we can all name our childhood best friend. I can. We were friends for sixteen years.
But what about your best friend as an adult? And I'm talking besides your spouse. Ryan is my best friend of course, but he's also my husband.
I'm talking about that one person that simply holds the title of your best friend. That one person that you can call in the middle of the night and they won't get mad, who knows you inside and out, who you can tell anything to, who you can call just to say hi, who you can cry with, laugh with, cheer up, make fun of.
I am fortunate enough to have that person. And in fact, today is her birthday.
I met Courtney when we were in college and I couldn't figure her out for a long time. She's the most sarcastic person I have ever met and she's hilarious. She will even admit that it takes a while to get her, but once you do, you'll love her.
I haven't had a friend like her in years. We talk every single day. She calls me when she's leaving work and we talk for a minimum of 45 minutes. About anything, She knows me so well it's scary. We discuss shows that we both love to watch, we talk about our kids (who are 3 months and 3 days apart - clearly meant to be best friends as well), our families, you name it. Everything.
She calls me out, tells me how it is, but then she also reassures me, and is ALWAYS on my side no matter how ridiculous the situation.
I am so blessed.
She will most likely hate this sappiness that I'm writing, but that's okay. We balance each other out.
She is my best friend, but she's also just like family. She was with me when I got engaged, when we graduated college, when I got married, when I was pregnant, when I had Dean, when both of my parents passed away, and everything in between. She is one of the few people that has never left me. She is my family.
Because see, friends come and go. They teach us life lessons, whether good or bad, but the really, really good ones, they always stick around through the good AND the bad.
I am beyond blessed to have Courtney in my life and to call her my best friend. We have been through so much together, and because of that, I know that our friendship will last a lifetime. I mean, we already agreed that when our kids marry each other, it'll be perfect because our husbands already get along and we won't have to deal with any unpredictable family-in-laws.
So here's to telling your best friend that you love them and that you will always be there for them. Because you never know when they'll become your family. Happy birthday to my best friend Courtney. Talk to you in 5 seconds.
xoxo,
Beth
Saturday, September 27, 2014
The Week of Insanity
In short, this week has been insane.
Last weekend Ryan and I began really cleaning the house. Of course we all clean our house - pick up, do the laundry, dishes, etc. But we were cleaning. That type of cleaning that really only happens every once in a blue moon.
When we first moved into our house 3 1/2 years ago, I used to really clean every Saturday morning. We're talking a solid 3-4 hours of cleaning. Every. Single. Week.
I have absolutely no idea what I was thinking.
A colleague once told me that she keeps her house spic and span because you never know who will come to your house at any time, and you always want to make a good impression. I can see that. But to me, I would rather walk into a house that is "lived in" than one that feels like a museum. I would consider our house "lived in," Clean, but obviously homey.
So this week I worked my fingers to the bone. I hurt everywhere. I have been complaining to Ryan that my foot hurts, my knees hurt, my lower back hurts even worse than normal, my lower abdomen hurts, etc. But for me it isn't just, "Man this hurts! I'm super sore today." I obviously have some life threatening illness. This drives Ryan insane, but I simply cannot help myself. A little while ago I slipped on a book on the floor and Ryan said, "I'll be sure to remind you tomorrow, when you think you have a tumor on your groin, that you simply slipped on a book."
Gosh darn it.
Anyways, this week has consisted of back breaking cleaning. I've been trying to binge watch all seasons of Parenthood and I was so upset that this week consisted of zero Parenthood watching. Dean was so good playing in his pack n' play and jumping in his jumper as I sprinted from room to room doing as much as possible before he got too annoyed with me.
Then yesterday morning I got a call from our realtor. I was instantly filled with nerves. Does someone want to see the house? What if they want to buy it? Are we going to seriously be moving this soon?
False alarm.
She was calling to see if it was okay if her photographer came over today to take pictures of the house. Wahh wahhhh. Not a problem.
But that means more cleaning.
By this point I felt like I had cleaned every inch of the house. My best friend even called me on Tuesday asking if she needed to talk me off the ledge of cleaning before our realtor came to put the house on the market. She knows me all too well.
So I didn't do anything yesterday. I sat and watched TV during Dean's nap and ate a ridiculously large bowl of ice cream. With chocolate syrup.
And then this morning came.
And I panicked.
I was running around vacuuming my already vacuumed house, Swiffering my already Swiffered floors, cleaning the mirrors in the bathroom and putting away the last minute clutter. Needless to say it all got finished of course. It always does.
After a long week, Ryan and I decided to head to the Reds game with Dean. We deserved some serious relaxation. It was our last game that we had tickets to for the year, and our last game for who knows how long. Dean only made it through one batter before he and I headed to the Kids Zone, and then we only made it through two innings because he was so hot from walking all around.
As we were walking out the stadium I apologized to Ryan that we couldn't stay longer. Dean is so squirmy it's difficult to take him to games yet. Ryan said it was fine. He simply liked going and smelling the hot dogs and popcorn, seeing the players, seeing the field, walking through the stadium...
I checked for tears. He held it together.
So we went to the zoo. Dean's obsessed with the zoo and has a conniption every time he sees a new animal. We only stayed for a little over an hour as the zoo had a special event later tonight and closed early.
But the point is, no matter how hard we work during the week, no matter how much we clean, work, or take care of others, we all deserve time to relax and focus on what's truly important in life. Because I could spend all of my time, every day, cleaning my house, but I would be wasting away hours that I could spend playing with my son. I cleaned so much this week because when given the choice daily, I choose what's more important to me - my family.
Here's to a relaxing rest of the weekend and tickling Dean until he can't stand it.
xoxo,
Beth
Last weekend Ryan and I began really cleaning the house. Of course we all clean our house - pick up, do the laundry, dishes, etc. But we were cleaning. That type of cleaning that really only happens every once in a blue moon.
When we first moved into our house 3 1/2 years ago, I used to really clean every Saturday morning. We're talking a solid 3-4 hours of cleaning. Every. Single. Week.
I have absolutely no idea what I was thinking.
A colleague once told me that she keeps her house spic and span because you never know who will come to your house at any time, and you always want to make a good impression. I can see that. But to me, I would rather walk into a house that is "lived in" than one that feels like a museum. I would consider our house "lived in," Clean, but obviously homey.
So this week I worked my fingers to the bone. I hurt everywhere. I have been complaining to Ryan that my foot hurts, my knees hurt, my lower back hurts even worse than normal, my lower abdomen hurts, etc. But for me it isn't just, "Man this hurts! I'm super sore today." I obviously have some life threatening illness. This drives Ryan insane, but I simply cannot help myself. A little while ago I slipped on a book on the floor and Ryan said, "I'll be sure to remind you tomorrow, when you think you have a tumor on your groin, that you simply slipped on a book."
Gosh darn it.
Anyways, this week has consisted of back breaking cleaning. I've been trying to binge watch all seasons of Parenthood and I was so upset that this week consisted of zero Parenthood watching. Dean was so good playing in his pack n' play and jumping in his jumper as I sprinted from room to room doing as much as possible before he got too annoyed with me.
Then yesterday morning I got a call from our realtor. I was instantly filled with nerves. Does someone want to see the house? What if they want to buy it? Are we going to seriously be moving this soon?
False alarm.
She was calling to see if it was okay if her photographer came over today to take pictures of the house. Wahh wahhhh. Not a problem.
But that means more cleaning.
By this point I felt like I had cleaned every inch of the house. My best friend even called me on Tuesday asking if she needed to talk me off the ledge of cleaning before our realtor came to put the house on the market. She knows me all too well.
So I didn't do anything yesterday. I sat and watched TV during Dean's nap and ate a ridiculously large bowl of ice cream. With chocolate syrup.
And then this morning came.
And I panicked.
I was running around vacuuming my already vacuumed house, Swiffering my already Swiffered floors, cleaning the mirrors in the bathroom and putting away the last minute clutter. Needless to say it all got finished of course. It always does.
After a long week, Ryan and I decided to head to the Reds game with Dean. We deserved some serious relaxation. It was our last game that we had tickets to for the year, and our last game for who knows how long. Dean only made it through one batter before he and I headed to the Kids Zone, and then we only made it through two innings because he was so hot from walking all around.
As we were walking out the stadium I apologized to Ryan that we couldn't stay longer. Dean is so squirmy it's difficult to take him to games yet. Ryan said it was fine. He simply liked going and smelling the hot dogs and popcorn, seeing the players, seeing the field, walking through the stadium...
I checked for tears. He held it together.
So we went to the zoo. Dean's obsessed with the zoo and has a conniption every time he sees a new animal. We only stayed for a little over an hour as the zoo had a special event later tonight and closed early.
But the point is, no matter how hard we work during the week, no matter how much we clean, work, or take care of others, we all deserve time to relax and focus on what's truly important in life. Because I could spend all of my time, every day, cleaning my house, but I would be wasting away hours that I could spend playing with my son. I cleaned so much this week because when given the choice daily, I choose what's more important to me - my family.
Here's to a relaxing rest of the weekend and tickling Dean until he can't stand it.
xoxo,
Beth
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
For Sale
Well, it's officially official! We put our first ever house on the market last night. It looks like we really are heading to North Carolina.
As bittersweet as this time in our lives is, we are beyond excited for a new opportunity and chapter. Neither Ryan or I have ever been away from home, so we are headed into this the blind leading the blind. Of course we are sad to be leaving our friends and family behind, but the new adventure that lies ahead of us makes us eager and nervous at all once.
It has been incredibly helpful that everyone around us has been very supportive of our move. When we told our families back in March, we were shockingly surprised at how well everyone received the news. I personally was terrified to tell my Grandma's, but they both completely understood that this is what was necessary for our family. They will miss us dearly, but the opportunity that awaits us is too good to pass up. When Ryan told his mom we were expecting the worst, but she was 100% on board. We looked at each other with shocking eyes as everyone supported us. Not that we thought no one would, but we received so much love and well wishes that we were overwhelmed.
The thought of moving and leaving everything behind is overwhelming, but we are so fortunate to be going with two wonderful people - Fred and Danielle. Ryan has known them since his days of youth group at church, and they are wonderful people. Danielle and I went out to dinner a few weeks ago and literally sat and talked for 4 1/2 hours. We laughed and joked how we will probably have to leave our yoga pants and t-shirts at home when we go to the grocery store, and dry our hair to go to Target. We are on the same page and I couldn't be more thankful for that! As nervous as I am about leaving home, I am so relieved to be taking a piece of home with us in these wonderful people.
So for now I would call yesterday and today a success. We put our house on the market and no one bought it in the first 24 hours. For those that don't know, we put an offer on this house within the first 24 hours of it being on the market. So, no one pulled an "us" over on us.
I continue to pray that the next few weeks go smoothly and that our time here at home is well spent. But I would also call that a success - we did have Skyline for dinner.
xoxo,
Beth
As bittersweet as this time in our lives is, we are beyond excited for a new opportunity and chapter. Neither Ryan or I have ever been away from home, so we are headed into this the blind leading the blind. Of course we are sad to be leaving our friends and family behind, but the new adventure that lies ahead of us makes us eager and nervous at all once.
It has been incredibly helpful that everyone around us has been very supportive of our move. When we told our families back in March, we were shockingly surprised at how well everyone received the news. I personally was terrified to tell my Grandma's, but they both completely understood that this is what was necessary for our family. They will miss us dearly, but the opportunity that awaits us is too good to pass up. When Ryan told his mom we were expecting the worst, but she was 100% on board. We looked at each other with shocking eyes as everyone supported us. Not that we thought no one would, but we received so much love and well wishes that we were overwhelmed.
The thought of moving and leaving everything behind is overwhelming, but we are so fortunate to be going with two wonderful people - Fred and Danielle. Ryan has known them since his days of youth group at church, and they are wonderful people. Danielle and I went out to dinner a few weeks ago and literally sat and talked for 4 1/2 hours. We laughed and joked how we will probably have to leave our yoga pants and t-shirts at home when we go to the grocery store, and dry our hair to go to Target. We are on the same page and I couldn't be more thankful for that! As nervous as I am about leaving home, I am so relieved to be taking a piece of home with us in these wonderful people.
So for now I would call yesterday and today a success. We put our house on the market and no one bought it in the first 24 hours. For those that don't know, we put an offer on this house within the first 24 hours of it being on the market. So, no one pulled an "us" over on us.
I continue to pray that the next few weeks go smoothly and that our time here at home is well spent. But I would also call that a success - we did have Skyline for dinner.
xoxo,
Beth
Sunday, August 24, 2014
"Christmas is in 4 months tomorrow"
I last posted about the beginning of our trip to visit Raleigh back in late March. That quickly turned into the story of how I resigned from my teaching job. I had good intentions of continuing my story about our trip down south, but as writing goes, I feel further inclined to write about something else.
I will though, give you brief synopsis of our trip...
*It is an 8 hour drive and we made it in 10 with an 8 month old baby - huge success!
*No offense to those that live in West Virginia, but gosh it was a depressing drive. Virginia was much nicer.
*We visited a lot of parks, museums, and local venues. There is a TON to do!
*It was 75 and sunny - it was amazing.
*I may or may not have had three break downs - full fledged crying, perhaps an, "I don't want to move," once or twice, etc. It was quite an emotional week - especially with having resigned from my job 2 seconds into our trip - something that I was not mentally prepared for.
*It was beautiful.
So onto something different.
This morning Ryan and I were lounging around the house watching Dean play (yes, we didn't go to church - it has been a rough summer for us. Teaching Sunday School to 4-6 year olds for 5 weeks with our own 11 month old in the same room may have put us over the edge for a while), when Ryan said nonchalantly, "Christmas is in 4 months tomorrow."
WHAT!
"Stop it, you can't be serious," was my obvious reply. Was I full of excitement - obviously. I love Christmas. Was I also shocked that he was stating this fun little fact when the high today was close to 90 degrees and I can't even begin to think of snow and cold yet? Of course.
But then he followed up with this gem...
"And we will be living in North Carolina in about 9 weeks."
I'm sorry, let me stop and have a panic attack.
Ryan told me last week that I needed to, "seriously start packing." So I've only packed about 10 boxes - big deal. But wait, what? We're putting our house on the market in two weeks? Oh for the love of everything.
Let me just tell you what "packing" looks like with a one year old - "Dean, don't touch that." "Dean, NO!" "Dean, you cannot eat that." "Dean, stop climbing on that." All. Day. Long.
So I haven't physically packed many boxes. In my mind I know where everything is supposed to go. I know exactly which kitchen items I want to put in storage, the ones that I want to get rid of, and the ones that will be making the move with us. It's simply a technicality that I haven't actually put them into boxes.
Ryan did tell me that he is taking a vacation day on Friday to "get the house ready to be shown," so I suppose I actually should pack a few more boxes this week. He also asked me if I wanted any help from outside sources - family members - and I instantly began to sweat and panic.
No offense what-so-ever to any of our family, but the stress of moving is enough for me to handle, I do not think I can handle being asked what I want done with this and that, and am I keeping this cute bowl? Or is it going in this pile? I very much like to do projects like this on my own. Some may say I like to be in control...I wouldn't deny that. Is that a flaw? Perhaps. But I am incredibly efficient and awesome at organization. So I'll take doing this on my own. I will most likely complain every day about it to Ryan, but it'll get done.
So here is to promising to pack more boxes this week. And no, I won't use my excuse of, "I didn't pack anything today because I forgot to put the boxes together before Dean took a nap."
Ha! That's right, I've actually used that one.
xoxo,
Beth
I will though, give you brief synopsis of our trip...
*It is an 8 hour drive and we made it in 10 with an 8 month old baby - huge success!
*No offense to those that live in West Virginia, but gosh it was a depressing drive. Virginia was much nicer.
*We visited a lot of parks, museums, and local venues. There is a TON to do!
*It was 75 and sunny - it was amazing.
*I may or may not have had three break downs - full fledged crying, perhaps an, "I don't want to move," once or twice, etc. It was quite an emotional week - especially with having resigned from my job 2 seconds into our trip - something that I was not mentally prepared for.
*It was beautiful.
So onto something different.
This morning Ryan and I were lounging around the house watching Dean play (yes, we didn't go to church - it has been a rough summer for us. Teaching Sunday School to 4-6 year olds for 5 weeks with our own 11 month old in the same room may have put us over the edge for a while), when Ryan said nonchalantly, "Christmas is in 4 months tomorrow."
WHAT!
"Stop it, you can't be serious," was my obvious reply. Was I full of excitement - obviously. I love Christmas. Was I also shocked that he was stating this fun little fact when the high today was close to 90 degrees and I can't even begin to think of snow and cold yet? Of course.
But then he followed up with this gem...
"And we will be living in North Carolina in about 9 weeks."
I'm sorry, let me stop and have a panic attack.
Ryan told me last week that I needed to, "seriously start packing." So I've only packed about 10 boxes - big deal. But wait, what? We're putting our house on the market in two weeks? Oh for the love of everything.
Let me just tell you what "packing" looks like with a one year old - "Dean, don't touch that." "Dean, NO!" "Dean, you cannot eat that." "Dean, stop climbing on that." All. Day. Long.
So I haven't physically packed many boxes. In my mind I know where everything is supposed to go. I know exactly which kitchen items I want to put in storage, the ones that I want to get rid of, and the ones that will be making the move with us. It's simply a technicality that I haven't actually put them into boxes.
Ryan did tell me that he is taking a vacation day on Friday to "get the house ready to be shown," so I suppose I actually should pack a few more boxes this week. He also asked me if I wanted any help from outside sources - family members - and I instantly began to sweat and panic.
No offense what-so-ever to any of our family, but the stress of moving is enough for me to handle, I do not think I can handle being asked what I want done with this and that, and am I keeping this cute bowl? Or is it going in this pile? I very much like to do projects like this on my own. Some may say I like to be in control...I wouldn't deny that. Is that a flaw? Perhaps. But I am incredibly efficient and awesome at organization. So I'll take doing this on my own. I will most likely complain every day about it to Ryan, but it'll get done.
So here is to promising to pack more boxes this week. And no, I won't use my excuse of, "I didn't pack anything today because I forgot to put the boxes together before Dean took a nap."
Ha! That's right, I've actually used that one.
xoxo,
Beth
Sunday, August 17, 2014
My Dream Job
At the end of March, Ryan and I decided that we should probably take a trip down south to the place that we were going to be calling home for the next few years. So we packed up our car with way too many clothes - guilty -, baby items, and snacks, and set out for the eight hour drive.
I was excited to get away for a long weekend and to spend some uninterrupted time with Ryan and Dean, but I was also a bit anxious. If you are to look up what a "home body" is, my picture would be plastered right next to the term. I like knowing what is going to happen, I like knowing where I am, and when I don't, I tend to get a bit anxious. So, never having been to North Carolina was exciting yet nerve wracking. .
As we were making our way across Ohio and were coming close to entering West Virginia the excitement suddenly halted. We were minding our own business at a beautiful rest area (when you have a baby, you stop OFTEN), when I got a phone call.
It was my boss.
I suppose I should stop and discuss the back story as to why this phone call was the beginning of my emotional spiral on this trip.
Last year I took a year leave of absence from my job when I had Dean. The first day of school would have been the first day back from my six week maternity leave, and I could not fathom attempting to get a classroom ready weeks before that with a three week old baby. No thanks. So, with the encouragement of Ryan, I made the decision to take the year off to be a Mommy. I knew going into my year leave that I had until April 1st to decide whether or not I would be coming back for the following school year. April 1 is "doomsday," as I had experienced the previous three years - but that's a different story.
So, my boss was calling me to see "where my head was" about the following school year. Was I coming back? Was I going to resign? I had been incredibly quiet about whether or not I would be returning to work and had only discussed it with a select few people, and none of those being my boss. Therefore, he had no idea what I was thinking.
The second that I saw the phone number pop up on my phone I instantly began to panic. I wasn't ready. I knew what I was going to do, but I wasn't ready. We were literally on our way out of the state to go visit our new home. This was NOT the time for me to be resigning from my career. I technically had another week to make my decision. I wanted that time.
My boss and I exchanged pleasantries and then, he cut to the chase. I looked at Ryan and with panicked eyes, I mouthed to him, "Do I just tell him?" Ryan nodded.
I resigned.
I told him that we were going to be relocating for my husband's job and that I would not be returning for the following school year. He was incredibly understanding and wished me well. He also told me that when we move back to call him. I took this as a great sign and something to look forward to.
I knew that resigning from my job was a step that I had to take, but what I didn't realize was how upset and emotional it would make me. Being a teacher is what I have always wanted to do with my life, and teaching at Mason has always been my dream job. I was lucky enough to get hired on as a 5th grade language arts/social studies teacher 13 days before school started in 2010 and loved every second of it. I have made amazing friends and even taught with my 5th grade teacher.
Leaving my dream job was heartbreaking. I know that moving to North Carolina for a few years is what is best for our family, but it is never easy to give up something that you love so much. I suppose once I resigned everything became incredibly real. We really are moving. I am unemployed. I was completely overwhelmed with emotion and began to swim in my thoughts.
But then I realized, I may have just quit my job, but now I have the amazing opportunity to be a stay at home mom to Dean. I'm blessed enough to spend my days with him and we get the opportunity to see a new part of the country and explore a new city!
Sometimes it takes a while for me to see the "glass half full," but I always know it is there.
Here's to quitting my dream job only to realize that I now am living my dream job - being Mom.
xoxo,
Beth
I was excited to get away for a long weekend and to spend some uninterrupted time with Ryan and Dean, but I was also a bit anxious. If you are to look up what a "home body" is, my picture would be plastered right next to the term. I like knowing what is going to happen, I like knowing where I am, and when I don't, I tend to get a bit anxious. So, never having been to North Carolina was exciting yet nerve wracking. .
As we were making our way across Ohio and were coming close to entering West Virginia the excitement suddenly halted. We were minding our own business at a beautiful rest area (when you have a baby, you stop OFTEN), when I got a phone call.
It was my boss.
I suppose I should stop and discuss the back story as to why this phone call was the beginning of my emotional spiral on this trip.
Last year I took a year leave of absence from my job when I had Dean. The first day of school would have been the first day back from my six week maternity leave, and I could not fathom attempting to get a classroom ready weeks before that with a three week old baby. No thanks. So, with the encouragement of Ryan, I made the decision to take the year off to be a Mommy. I knew going into my year leave that I had until April 1st to decide whether or not I would be coming back for the following school year. April 1 is "doomsday," as I had experienced the previous three years - but that's a different story.
So, my boss was calling me to see "where my head was" about the following school year. Was I coming back? Was I going to resign? I had been incredibly quiet about whether or not I would be returning to work and had only discussed it with a select few people, and none of those being my boss. Therefore, he had no idea what I was thinking.
The second that I saw the phone number pop up on my phone I instantly began to panic. I wasn't ready. I knew what I was going to do, but I wasn't ready. We were literally on our way out of the state to go visit our new home. This was NOT the time for me to be resigning from my career. I technically had another week to make my decision. I wanted that time.
My boss and I exchanged pleasantries and then, he cut to the chase. I looked at Ryan and with panicked eyes, I mouthed to him, "Do I just tell him?" Ryan nodded.
I resigned.
I told him that we were going to be relocating for my husband's job and that I would not be returning for the following school year. He was incredibly understanding and wished me well. He also told me that when we move back to call him. I took this as a great sign and something to look forward to.
I knew that resigning from my job was a step that I had to take, but what I didn't realize was how upset and emotional it would make me. Being a teacher is what I have always wanted to do with my life, and teaching at Mason has always been my dream job. I was lucky enough to get hired on as a 5th grade language arts/social studies teacher 13 days before school started in 2010 and loved every second of it. I have made amazing friends and even taught with my 5th grade teacher.
Leaving my dream job was heartbreaking. I know that moving to North Carolina for a few years is what is best for our family, but it is never easy to give up something that you love so much. I suppose once I resigned everything became incredibly real. We really are moving. I am unemployed. I was completely overwhelmed with emotion and began to swim in my thoughts.
But then I realized, I may have just quit my job, but now I have the amazing opportunity to be a stay at home mom to Dean. I'm blessed enough to spend my days with him and we get the opportunity to see a new part of the country and explore a new city!
Sometimes it takes a while for me to see the "glass half full," but I always know it is there.
Here's to quitting my dream job only to realize that I now am living my dream job - being Mom.
xoxo,
Beth
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Here we come North Carolina!
Secret's out! The Morrow family is packing up and saying goodbye to the Midwest.
For many, this news is not new. In fact, Ryan and I have known since February that we were moving.
So how did we get here, you may ask? Well, it has been somewhat of a whirlwind. When Ryan began working for TQL he loved it. It was perfect for him - fast paced, intense, opportunities to mentor others, teach, etc. It fit Ryan's personality like a glove. And, he was good at it.
A few years in, there came the opportunity for Ryan to help be a "Founding Member" of a new office in West Chester. When this opportunity came about, Ryan told me, "I have to. It's the only way that I can move up." I let him know that I would support him in any decision that he wanted to make. Whatever was best for him was what was best for our family.
A year and a few months later, after some crazy turn of events, we thought that Ryan would have the opportunity to take over the West Chester office. It was everything that Ryan had been working for - to be the boss! After a few more crazy turn of events, Ryan was not asked to take over the West Chester office, but to relocate to North Carolina and open a brand new office.
Now, relocation has been a topic of conversation in our house for a few years. We always knew that it was a possibility, but did we actually think it would happen? I don't think so. Is it happening? Absolutely.
The day that Ryan came home and said, "Well, they asked me to go to North Carolina today," I sat in stunned silence. What? I didn't want to be unsupportive, because I've always told Ryan that I would live in a box with him. I didn't care where we were, so long as we were together. But let's be honest. My heart sank and I wanted to throw up.
He relayed the conversation that one of the Vice President's of the company had with him, and he said to me, "Well. What do we do?"
Obviously it would be career suicide if we didn't go - plain and simple. The whole reason that Ryan helped begin the West Chester office was so that he could continue to move up in the company. And well, that day had come. He was sought out and asked to open his own office. They trusted him enough to move him to a new town, give him an office, and trust his judgement when hiring new employees. If that isn't one of the highest compliments that he could get, I don't know what is. Of course we had to go. Ryan would never get another opportunity like this again. At least not with TQL.
With many questions, concerns, and worries on my end, Ryan said something that really hit home to me. "Beth, we pray to God every night to bless us with good favor. And now that He has opened this door, we're going to say no just because it isn't our favorite option? Yeah, just kidding God. We still want you to continue to bless us with good favor, but we'd like it if it wasn't this. Thanks!"
Gosh darn it. He's right.
And off to North Carolina we go.
I wanted to start this blog to help our family and friends keep up with us while we are away. Just a disclaimer though: I have always been terrified to share my writing and thoughts with others. Even now, my stomach is in knots. I cannot guarantee that there won't be some ridiculous posts, but this seems like the easiest way to stay in touch. So, I hope you enjoy this new chapter of our lives with us. It's bound to be interesting in the least.
xoxo,
Beth
For many, this news is not new. In fact, Ryan and I have known since February that we were moving.
So how did we get here, you may ask? Well, it has been somewhat of a whirlwind. When Ryan began working for TQL he loved it. It was perfect for him - fast paced, intense, opportunities to mentor others, teach, etc. It fit Ryan's personality like a glove. And, he was good at it.
A few years in, there came the opportunity for Ryan to help be a "Founding Member" of a new office in West Chester. When this opportunity came about, Ryan told me, "I have to. It's the only way that I can move up." I let him know that I would support him in any decision that he wanted to make. Whatever was best for him was what was best for our family.
A year and a few months later, after some crazy turn of events, we thought that Ryan would have the opportunity to take over the West Chester office. It was everything that Ryan had been working for - to be the boss! After a few more crazy turn of events, Ryan was not asked to take over the West Chester office, but to relocate to North Carolina and open a brand new office.
Now, relocation has been a topic of conversation in our house for a few years. We always knew that it was a possibility, but did we actually think it would happen? I don't think so. Is it happening? Absolutely.
The day that Ryan came home and said, "Well, they asked me to go to North Carolina today," I sat in stunned silence. What? I didn't want to be unsupportive, because I've always told Ryan that I would live in a box with him. I didn't care where we were, so long as we were together. But let's be honest. My heart sank and I wanted to throw up.
He relayed the conversation that one of the Vice President's of the company had with him, and he said to me, "Well. What do we do?"
Obviously it would be career suicide if we didn't go - plain and simple. The whole reason that Ryan helped begin the West Chester office was so that he could continue to move up in the company. And well, that day had come. He was sought out and asked to open his own office. They trusted him enough to move him to a new town, give him an office, and trust his judgement when hiring new employees. If that isn't one of the highest compliments that he could get, I don't know what is. Of course we had to go. Ryan would never get another opportunity like this again. At least not with TQL.
With many questions, concerns, and worries on my end, Ryan said something that really hit home to me. "Beth, we pray to God every night to bless us with good favor. And now that He has opened this door, we're going to say no just because it isn't our favorite option? Yeah, just kidding God. We still want you to continue to bless us with good favor, but we'd like it if it wasn't this. Thanks!"
Gosh darn it. He's right.
And off to North Carolina we go.
I wanted to start this blog to help our family and friends keep up with us while we are away. Just a disclaimer though: I have always been terrified to share my writing and thoughts with others. Even now, my stomach is in knots. I cannot guarantee that there won't be some ridiculous posts, but this seems like the easiest way to stay in touch. So, I hope you enjoy this new chapter of our lives with us. It's bound to be interesting in the least.
xoxo,
Beth
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)