Grit and Grace

She stood in the library of her new house, barefoot and bra-less, hands on her hips.

Early morning light streamed through the east-facing windows, the watery glow of an overcast day illuminating her messy desk, the mountain of laundry, the piles of boxes still waiting to be unpacked that she had stowed in here until she had more time to disperse their contents.   

"Where the hell is the easy button?" 

She'd been looking for the damn thing since February. The last few months had been so hard, just a carnival ride of stomach churning frustration as she dealt with her asshole of a builder, her absent, incompetent real estate agent, her bitchy, harried boss. 

She thought, naively, that once she got in the new house, in her perfect, brand new home with her shiny appliances and shinier light fixtures that it would all be better, life would be simple and lovely again, that she and her husband could stop bickering and get back to screwing, that her kids would start laughing more and talking back less.

Turns out that was but a pipe dream. After the movers left, they realized the builder left the windows open and rain had poured in on the new hardwood floors, and the yard was graded wrong so a fucking moat was forming around her house. The dogs didn't understand what an HOA was and, to protest being walked on leashes instead of roaming like they could before, they started pissing on the pristine carpet. Her son smashed his bedroom light while making a fort out of quilts when the new living room furniture couldn't be delivered for four weeks and school started back so between work and groceries and driving the kids to karate, there wasn't even time to organize this GODDAMNED library. 

But she was off work today and today she was unpacking this bitch.

She started by moving the stacked art in frames to the basement and tearing tape off boxes marked "BOOKS" and "GAMES" and "FRAGILE! DECORATIVE ITEMS - Mom's frogs and antique glass." The books she placed on the shelves, in no particular order for the moment - that would be a project for another day, the glass soda bottles and Ball jars she unwrapped from newspaper cocoons and carried to the dining room hutch.

By now she was sweating a little and called to Alexa to turn on some Bob Marley. As Buffalo Soldier poured out of the speakers, she unrolled the rug, smiling to find one carpet the dogs hadn't pissed on yet. She shuffled the papers on the desk into a passable pile and moved the pack of screwdrivers and a tangle extension cords out to the garage. Grabbing the little farm cabinet around the waist she gently rocked it into place against the wall. Turning to grab some local cookbooks to tuck in the glass front cabinets, she banged the shit out of her foot.

"Mother fuck..." she growled, grabbing her toes and dancing the awkward, one-legged flamingo tango of stubbed toes.
She glared down at the floor to see what caught her and her eyes opened wide.

"You have GOT to be kidding me."

The easy button glowed up at her, a beacon of white on the cherry stain of the hardwoods.

It must have gotten lodged under the thing when she was packing her house. She had looked EVERYWHERE for this, for months, for hours, and finally, here it was, peeking out coyly, like it had been hiding from her on purpose.

She recalled her mother's words when she had gifted her the strange thing on her wedding day, seven years before.

"You know, it won't always work the way you expect it too," her mama had warned her.
"Sometimes, it will decide you are on your own. Take good care of it."

"But why?" she had asked her mother 'Why can't things just be easy all the time?"

"Baby girl, how else are you going to develop a little character?" her mother had replied. 

She reached down and gently pried the round object from beneath the cabinet.
Smaller than a saucer, but substantial, it felt warm to the touch, comforting and solid like a cup of hot tea.

"I think I have had just about enough character building for one year," she said, hugging the easy button to her chest.

She laid it on her desk and depressed the top firmly, closing her eyes and sending out a silent prayer that it still worked. 

With a low rumble of thunder, the clouds outside rolled back and sunlight poured into the room, dust motes danced around her and the warmth of the easy button spread up her arms and into her belly. 

From the living room, Bob sang out "Every little thing, is gonna be all right" and she knew, at least for now, that it was true. 

I was going to write about how my new house is gorgeous and my neighborhood is lovely but the house still feels weird and my neighborhood feels weird and I feel conspicuous walking my dogs (Is it social anxiety or is that just what it is like in a neighborhood?) and I was wondering how long it takes before the new place starts to feel like home but then my daughter got dumped by her boyfriend this weekend and that became much more important. 

My poor girl. She has been dating this guy for eight months. That's pretty much an eternity when you are 14 years old!

When they started dating in January I had my reservations about the kid but he proved to be a good friend and a good guy to her in general and he has always made her feel special. They are both a little off the wall and I think they worked in the way of that old Dr. Seuss quote that says something like "We are all a little weird. When we meet someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours we join in mutual weirdness and call it love." Their weirdness was definitely compatible.

Over the past eight months they saw each other at school daily, celebrated both their birthdays together, went tubing on the Chattahoochee River, spent a few lazy Saturdays at each others houses watching River Monsters and scary movies and went to the eighth grade dance together. There was a lot of hand holding and hugging and some smooching too.

He gave my daughter a flower ring he made out of Fimo clay - he called it a "promise" ring (promising what, exactly?) and a pile of drawings and pretty much his entire collection of sweaters because she is always cold. Seriously, I told her the boy is going to freeze this winter and get pneumonia because she has all his hoodies and flannels.

She gave him a snowglobe with snowpeople cuddling in it, a pile of candy with romantic puns on Valentine's Day, homemade caramels - his very favorite - just because, and a lot of wholesome security because his mom has a progressive autoimmune disorder and his dad is mostly absent and his sisters don't really give a damn so she chose to be his biggest cheerleader. 

I acted as chauffeur, chef, took the kid to high school orientation because his mom couldn't...I was sweet to him too.

And then on Thursday, after he gave her a bag of gummy bears at school and yelled across a crowded hall that he loved her...around 9:00 that night he called her up and dumped her. I suppose i should be proud of him he didn't just do it in a text. 

Did I think they were going to stay together for a million years and get married? Nah. But this just seemed so SUDDEN.

When she didn't bring her phone downstairs on Thursday at bedtime I texted her and she responded saying Jackson wanted to "take a break." This take a break thing is such bullshit. That phrase didn't exist when I was dating - you either dated someone or you didn't,  but as the dumper, you didn't get to make a breakup easier on yourself by saying "Yeah, it's just a break...you know, until we're ready to get back together." Wait...YOU just dumped ME, I wasn't wanting to be apart in the first place!

She was crying and kept saying "He said we can get back together..." and I had to be the one to tell her that he was really breaking up with her, not to delude herself...and she didn't believe me until he called her the very next night and said "Yeah, I think we should officially break up." Jackass! Please, just draw out the agony a little longer.

That first night I just let her cry, and my husband and I both talked with her about how much it hurts and that only time will make it better. Which sucks when you want your heart to stop hurting RIGHT NOW. But then I told her she needed to wash her face and get some sleep because she had school in the morning and she needed to walk in looking fabulous and acting fine. Don't give that boy the satisfaction of thinking he means anything to you anymore. I told her she could come home on Friday afternoon and fall apart for the next two days but for her sake, she needed to look good - and act like she felt good - on Friday.

She did it. She got up on Friday, took a few shaky breaths, took off the ring he gave her and went to school. 

The boy tried to act like all was well between them. Calling out "Hey Girl" all friendly and sending her a text a few minutes later with freaking HEART EMOJIS. She is texting me then saying "What is he doing, mama?" 
I don't know...assuaging his guilt? 

She made it through Friday and when she got home I had brownies and Ben & Jerry's and Lindor truffles and Doritos so we could watch movies and snuggle on the couch and eat our feelings. Of course, in the middle of watching Superbad - completely inappropriate but I wanted to make her smile - he send the "breakup for real" text and then she dissolves into tears again.

The rest of the weekend was spent listening to sad songs, watching Ladybird and crying together and finally I called in reinforcements and had her friend Alex spend the night Saturday. They ate mozzarella sticks and watched silly Vine compilations together and she made it past Night 3, critical stage, of her first real breakup.  

I am trying to help her make it through this knowing that even if this boy made the choice to end a relationship with her, this is still her story to write. I don't want her to question her self worth because some skinny kid rejected her. I am trying to help her keep her dignity in the midst of heartache because god knows we have all done stupid shit when we got dumped and our feelings were ripped to shreds. Even my husband told her about how he is still embarrassed, 20 years later, with how he behaved when his first love broke up with him at 19. I am also trying to help her be real about their chances of getting back together. We all know how badly THAT kind of fantasy can end. This kid's MO has been to date one girl until he meets someone he likes better, dump the first girl and within the week start dating someone else. 

He sent her a message on Snapchat last night that said "I'm going to tell everyone tomorrow," and she responded "I think people already know." But she still sobbed afterward.

Today, Monday, she got up and got dressed and went to school again to face all the kids going "You and J broke up?" and do you know he TOTALLY wussed out! Suddenly he was sick. He still sent a Snap out to all his friends at lunchtime saying that he and my daughter broke up, that he did it and that there were no hard feelings. Yeah, whatever.

I know she will be stronger at the end of all this, and her heart will be a little tougher.
But she will also be a little less starry-eyed about love, a little less innocent and I'd like to egg the dude's house to let him know what a worthless chicken shit I think he is for breaking her heart.

I won't though. Gotta keep up appearances.
We just satisfy ourselves with shooting a bird at his house every time we drive by his street.

For the first week after the move we lived entirely out of boxes. My kids were away and I had to finish summer reading at the library. It was a week of slow progress and fast food. I was seriously down to my last pair of clean underwear when we finally got the washing machine set up - I thought I was out - I'd even worn my Oscar the Grouch "grouchy pants" that were bought solely as a novelty item! My only option was going commando until I remembered I hadn't emptied a suitcase after my son's karate tournament in July and uncovered two clean thongs - yay!

I was able to take last week off work to get the house in order - and ferry the kids to all their school open houses and orientations. My daughter starts high school this week - madness - surely I am too young to have a high school kiddo? - and my son is now a 7th grader!

Anyway, I tried to do a room a day. It was a good goal but not reachable, especially when I realized that the way our builder graded our lot, we have runoff creeks forming on both sides of the house so I had to spend two afternoons out in the rain digging in these drainage areas to keep from having a moat form around the property. YAY new construction!

Progress inside?

* Dining room - 90% organized - I can't put the liquor cabinet back together yet because there's a piece of furniture in front of it I couldn't move. Lots of bottles on the floor at the moment.

*Kitchen and Pantry - Done - Pantry could use some final organization - beans next to canned eats because protein or next to canned vegetables? These are the questions that haunt me. I've cooked three meals so far though plus some bread and a batch of cookies!

*Master Suite - 50% finished. Bathroom is done - it was the first thing I arranged. That was the space I had to arrange to get some sense of normalcy when everything else was a mess. In the bedroom the bookshelves remain unladen and my closet is full of clothes but its all a jumble. I need to build my ClosetMaid shelves and drawers to get some semblance of order in there.

*Living room - 25% done. We have television! Alexa is online! We've decided to go without cable and stream everything but since the house was new, there was no cable run to it yet. That was installed 10 days after the move. It says something about our family when I tell you it didn't feel right in the house until we got Alexa up and running, playing movies and music - and gathering all our personal family information again! Ahh, sweet invasion of privacy.

But, we have no living room furniture! The old stuff was 20 years old so we finally ordered new. It's all coming on the 15th. For the time being, we are either sitting on the floor or on kitchen chairs when it's time for our family Walking Dead marathons. I included a picture of the first night the kids were there. They decided to make a fort from their blankets and moving boxes and we all got in for dinner and zombies.

*Library - 75% finished. All the books are on the shelves but you know it will take me some time to arrange them just so.

*The kids put their rooms together fast.

*I haven't touched the basement, garage or guest bedroom.
I haven't hung any art yet and we don't have towel racks or toilet paper holders on the walls.
I also need new silverware and dinnerware. We got rid of all our ancient, faded, rusted and cracked stuff when we moved and eating off paper plates with plastic-ware is getting old!

It's getting there but I'm definitely not ready for the housewarming party yet.

My husband accidentally sold our house in November.

One of his coworkers used Offerpad to sell his place and made some decent money. On a whim, my man started an account and plugged in all our house info, really just fishing to see what they might offer us.

Within 24 hours they responded and said they'd pay us a decent amount for our home, as is, and we wouldn't have to go through the hassle of listing it and letting strangers tromp through our bathroom! Also, they'd give us some cash to hire movers AND we got to pick the closing date...and they needed our response in THREE days.

Now, we have been mulling over moving for a few years. Top reasons are that:

1. The way the local school system is districted, we live 25 minutes from the kids' school and that is a PAIN because they are in band and chorus and yearbook and track... we spend way too much time driving them around, OH! And, because of the distance the damn bus always gets them there late - Seriously? The public school's own bus system can't even get them there in a timely manner?

2. We live in a small-ish town. One end of the the county is still the suburbs of Atlanta and the other end is the foothills of the Appalachians. There are some white trashy folks here and the queen of trash and her six kids - only two are illegitimate! - and her boyfriend - who she was cheating on her husband with - and their yard full of old cars and red Solo cups and fireworks and sunburned beer bellies and parties on Tuesday nights that end in screaming and calling the cops on themselves...these people live across the street from me and we have dealt with the redneckery for seven years. Enough is enough.

3. Our house is now 20 years old. The hardwood floors need resurfacing and the vinyl siding should be replaced and the window and door frames have some water damage. It is time to either take care of this business or bounce.

We decided to bounce. Signed the papers and started looking at houses the week before Christmas.

After searching unsuccessfully for 10 weeks in the dead of winter we visited a model home in a neighborhood four minutes from the kids school, absolutely loved it and decided to build.

I thought "This is going to be a blast! I get to pick everything!!"

I was bat-shit crazy too.

Our contractor, who we selected because he builds these gorgeous, solid homes, is also one of the biggest asshats I've ever met.

Our real estate agent politely says things like "That Don, he's a real piece of work." And "Don ought to just build houses and sell them when they are done because he really doesn't know how to talk to people."

I'll probably have to share some other stories about this building process, like how Don ruined Mother's Day and how he tried TWICE to cancel the contract on us because, Jesus Christ, the man has given me PTSD.

Building a house while working 40 hours a week, and being a mom and there was one wedding - expected and one funeral - unexpected - and a dog bite that was harmless and a cat bite that led to me going through rabies treatments...it's just been one hell of a year.

BUT! (Knock on wood!) The end is in sight. In the morning my husband (I need to find a good alias for him) goes to sign off on our current home and hand it over to Offerpad. Y'all feel free to say a prayer, send some positive vibes out into the universe that it all goes smoothly! And on Friday we close on our new house. We have to be gone by next Monday.

The movers arrive Saturday morning!! Aaahhh!!!!

A new chapter is damn close to beginning.