I'm waiting for something to click so I don't have to think through every action, so something feels second nature instead of stilted and unnatural and off.
It's weird to be in this space that will never be home. The grown up suitcases aren't all the way unpacked. The toiletry bag is still sitting on the bathroom counter. All of the emotions and adrenaline of the past few weeks are gone and I'm tired. Last night I was reading The Birchbark House with Isaac and fell asleep right in the middle of a sentence. "I am theeeeeeeeeeeee." I was startled awake by his giggles. That'll be an inside joke for a while. Never mind that it was 8:35 at night.
I'm just trying to be okay with these blah feelings instead of covering them up and pretending everything is easy and rosy. Living in transition isn't easy. Not knowing a soul isn't easy. This is the part of the Great Perhaps that kind of sucks.
When Asher was born, we were listening to a playlist I'd put together for the hallowed occasion of Cuatro's birth. He just happened to be born while the song "Home" by Philip Phillips was playing. If you don't know the lyrics, go on and take a listen. It was just the perfect song to welcome baby Asher into the world, into our family, into our home, into our arms.
And I find myself humming it again. This wave is stringing us along.
I feel lost. A lot. A lot lot. Lot.
But the story doesn't end here. I don't know exactly where it will end and when things will feel more normal.
So for now I'm waiting. And I'm home, even though I'm in a house that doesn't feel much like a home. We're going to make this place our home. We're going to be found. We're on our way. Destination: unknown. Company: top notch.