I have been contemplating a post in which I state that it takes about 7 months to get used to living in a new place… here’s my meager attempt.
We’ve made some friends through Tim’s work and through the Moms Club I’ve joined. We now have about 3-4 babysitters we can call on (mostly teenage daughters of friends) and we finally registered with a church that we like and even took a baptism class so someday we can get Baby K baptized (mostly a matter of getting her Texas Godparents here – Hi Larry & Kelley!…). We went to our first Mardi Gras parade last weekend, in which the boys had a blast, and we also celebrated with some “die-hard” Saints fans as we watched their team win the Super Bowl!
The boys are getting used to their new schools and making friends there and through Moms Club. I know my way around pretty well now and don’t have to rely on my little Garman (GPS) nearly as much anymore (although still need it on occasion…)
BUT… (there’s always a “but”, right?)
Today it snowed where we used to live.
Big deal, right?
Well, actually it is a big deal since it really doesn’t snow there that often.
And why do I care? Because it’s the same year we moved and not only do they get a white Christmas (dreamed of this my whole life – the damn song has ruined me) but they also get enough snow in February to really play in it and make real snowmen, not just little puny ones.
And my heart hurts because I know that the boys would love to see it falling and to play in it and I would even brave the cold to do the same. And Tim would love that it was cold enough for snow and would enjoy it as well.
So, after seeing many of my friends from back home post pictures on Facebook and getting an email from my MIL with pictures of THE snow, I cried.
The fact of the matter is, no matter how long it’s been or what the weather is like, I still miss our old home. Some days I miss it more, some days less.
Today is a day of MORE.