First Week at Home

It's been weird. Uprooting yourself is like that. I've filled the past few days with unpacking and going back and forth between excitement and fits of tears. We made it to Sacrament meeting on Sunday and found our new ward strikingly different from our last. Our ward boundaries encompass some new areas like ours and a bigger old area. The church building was probably built in the 50s (if not before) and feels brown and musty. (So different from our two year old building in San Diego.) The old dark building is probably what cast the gloom over the whole impression because I talked to two people tops and then left early because of Nicky's ear infection. There are definitely more humble circumstances and fewer nice cars in the parking lot. Not a bad thing but certainly different. Jeff had Monday off so the day of crying didn't hit until Tuesday. The dam burst for the entire day. Yesterday was a little better but I still cried every time Nicky and Andy brought up Kedrick and Brock. It just feels surreal that San Diego is over and certain people and places will never be ours permanently again. Plus it takes me soooo long to make good friends. These thoughts make for gloomy feelings.

I was having residual gloom this morning until we went to reading time at the library. I've been to reading times in San Diego (unfortunately never Marilyn's) and the readers were always quiet and boring. They could never keep my kids' attention. This reader today was a show stopper. She was middle aged. With her thick glasses, mop top hair, and juicy lipstick she looked like Miss Geist from "Clueless" or Mrs. Peacock from "Clue." I didn't find her spectacular in the beginning as she welcomed the children but then she said, "it's time to do the chicken dance." She turned on her music and then proceeded to shimmy her rear, bend her arms at the elbows, and flap her wings away with abandon. The kids loved the uninhibited dancing and excitedly responded with their own. The lady sitting next to me said something disgustedly under her breath like, "wow, she probably does this at home when she's alone." She did seem well practiced. Suddenly the chicken dancing library reader caught me as so funny and I laughed really hard. The more I laughed the funnier she was and tears streamed down my cheeks. You can be sure we'll be going to that story time next week. She was awesome. I decided that if someone like that lives in this town that I can belong here too. I'm in a much better mood.

The house is lovely. We are still putting things together. We have two gay men as next door neighbors. This is a new unexpected experience that caught me off guard. The one man I met is friendly and attractive and there is no reason why I wouldn't like him. Jeff says the partner is nice as well. We decided we'll just tell the kids they're roommates or friends like Bert and Ernie. We probably won't have them over when the missionaries come. I'm concerned they may hate us when they find out we are Mormon. At least there is no Prop 8 for now and no signs to be posted on our lawn. How awkward!

The kids seem to have grown bigger with the new surroundings. They got new bikes and have been enjoying the back yard and the park across the way. Andy has shown no signs of trauma but has been very naughty. He found my temple clothes suitcase after his bath and peed on it. Luckily the clothes on the inside weren't wetted. What is it with boys? Nicky doesn't seem traumatized either and even suggested we replace her old friends from San Diego in her bedtime stories with new made up friends that we might meet here. They're names were, "Perarosa, Purple Flower, and Pidy Guy." Very interesting names. I hope we do make new friends soon and feel more at home.