peaceful?

It's been a struggle to have a good attitude about living in this apartment.

I am well aware that we are blessed to be in this position, and I'm continually trying to count those blessings. But I wouldn't be telling the truth if I said it was easy for me.

We feel so crowded. There are still so many boxes, both packed and broken down. It still feels as though we're living in a cardboard jungle. There simply isn't space to put things, even the things we use regularly. I am continually wishing I had access to something (the meat thermometer, the blender, my large roasting pan) which is put away in storage somewhere. We have things stored in three separate spaces: the garage at Jeff's parents' house, a garage here at the apartment complex, and at the U-Haul place. Things are spread to the far corners of the earth, it seems. And it's a good thing, because we certainly don't have the place to put it here.

My beloved maternity sweaters are still at large.

They're not in any of the other places, so I'm resigning myself to the belief that they are impossibly packed away, walled in within the U-Haul storage unit. I'm telling myself that it'll be like "new" clothes when I get access to them during the last month of my pregnancy. That is, assuming I can find them before the baby arrives.

But here's something.

In Kyle's prayers, he always thanks God for "our peaceful apartment."

Peaceful? I don't really think so. Our three months here have been full of stress and clutter. We seem to be too loud for the amount of space we occupy. I'm desperately missing having a garage, now that the near-constant rain has begun in earnest. And I feel so vulnerable here. We keep the boys' window shades down and closed all the time; their bedrooms face the parking lot, and the sidewalk passes just beside the windowpanes. I just feel so exposed...to foul language, foul habits, and prying eyes. It doesn't feel quite safe, somehow.

Yet in the eyes of my 4-year-old, it's...peaceful?

It seems that he's been able to grasp something which I haven't. That being able to live here is a gift. That it's working for us. That, in spite of the ongoing frustrations, we're doing okay.

So I'm going to continue the struggle. I'm going to make an effort to count blessings ...not just for grace, health, job security and family, but the blessings God has given us through this very place. Here's a start....

~that the sale of our old house finally worked out
~a dry, warm place to live while our new house is being built
~that the apartment is on the ground floor
~the ability to keep the sleeping arrangements we're accustomed to
~the honest truth that there's no room for a child to sleep next to our bed when he comes in during the middle of the night
~a separate bathroom for our young boys
~space to put our chest freezer in the kitchen (and ready access to our supply of grass-finished beef)
~the fact that no neighbors have complained about our often-noisy children
~the fact that our upstairs neighbor, who hits his snooze button an average of 5 times a morning, does not have to get up at an ungodly hour to get ready for his day
~that the apartment is only about 5 minutes from our church
~living very near a college campus with a stunning display of autumn leaves
~a garage available to rent, relatively close to our door
~the fact that we've only about two more months to go
~our last month here will be incredibly busy (and hopefully go quickly)...it'll be Christmastime!

apartment living

So....we've taken the leap. We are now -- currently-- apartment-dwellers: something we haven't been for 7 1/2 years. All it not yet unpacked, by a long shot. And of course, it won't be. There's far too much to fit inside our tiny little place. Many of our belongings (furniture, keepsakes, kitchenware) is sitting in our two rented storage spaces.

And here we are. The boys are loving it, I think. Benjamin and Kyle are clearly happy to have their bunk beds back, along with some toys which haven't seen the light of day for months on end. Owen has his own room, but gleefully toddles into his brothers' bedroom whenever he has a chance. He has so much fun hanging out in there, playing with his brothers' toys, and just being with them.

All three boys have been sleeping like champions since we moved in, which is more than I'd ever asked for or imagined. Especially considering that we're on the ground floor, and that the boys' bedrooms are out next to the parking lot: so they're potentially exposed to the noise of people passing by, etc., as well as vehicles coming and going. What a gift their sweet sleep is!

Jeff and I, I must tell you, are struggling a bit. Not with each other...we're just somehow feeling very low about our new living arrangements. Everything feels crowded, and we still have boxes of things which we'd like to be here with us, but have no good place to put them. We're facing a new round of "Do you know where the ________ is?" It's very frustrating, and often the items are fairly important - recently missing was Benjamin's soccer uniform (the season's first game is Saturday...Jeff found it, thank goodness!). This is a minor example, I know. But this kind of thing contributes heavily to our morale.

Also, many things seem to be going wrong - the case in point being the theft of our van's CD player, as well as the family camera (as I mentioned in Monday's post). Jeff's car is not working right now, and we have no idea when it will be running again. We're receiving help of various kinds from our friends and wonderful church family. Yet we find that we are living with a sense of "...what will happen next?"

I hesitated to even write this post, because I don't want to come across as complaining. We are very blessed, and we know it. We're incredibly excited about the new house in January...it's just that January seems to be so far away. And there's this foreboding sense of "...what could go wrong with that?" Still, I decided to go ahead and write it, after all, for two reasons. First, I wanted to let you know how we are, now that the (first) move is over. But secondly and most importantly, I wanted to ask you to pray for us. It seems clear to me that we are under spiritual attack. We're holding on, but we're discouraged. So if you think of it, please keep us in your prayers. We truly covet them.

We're getting there, though. I'm getting back into the swing of things in my tiny little kitchen. I believe it is doing our hearts and bodies good to have nourishing food on a more consistent basis. And our family is in the midst of a very busy few weeks; hopefully once we're past that time, we'll be able to relax and breathe a bit better.

We are so thankful that the sale of "our" house did close, and for all we have to look forward to. Jeff and I are grateful for good health, a lovely pregnancy, and easygoing children. So as we begin this new chapter of our marriage, we're reminding ourselves to count our blessings. Because we are so, so blessed. We do know that.

the done deal

After months of attempts, toil, patience, excitement, disappointment, and pessimism laced with optimism, it is over.

We have sold our house!

All the parties involved have signed the required paperwork. It's official - we are no longer homeowners! I'd be dancing a jig and sipping champagne if I weren't expecting a baby.

As if I have time to sip champagne.

As if I have time to be blogging!

Tomorrow we begin the move: the next time I post, it shall be from a small but cozy 3-bedroom apartment.

Can you believe it?!