beware the ladder of death...

When last we left off I was wondering what I was going to do...

I have a running list in my head of all the little things I want to do to make my house "ours" instead of just a builder's "blank, builder grade, ivory paint everywhere and no overhead light fixtures" special.

First up on the agenda was doing some painting.  This would be good for me to get done now that Ron has started his new job and the boys are still in school for a few more weeks.  Or so I thought.

Unfortunately, neither of our ladders from our old house made it here.  One was junk and rickety, so we threw it away when we moved.  The other one was inadvertently left of the moving truck.  Although there have been promises of getting it to us (or at least a check to cover replacement costs) we remained ladder-less, which is not good in my house.

You see, we are short.  Dreadfully short.  My poor kids are always the shortest in their class and forever doomed to be in the front row for assemblies and school choir concerts.  My towering height of 5'2'' and my husband's of 5'8'' do not leave my children much hope.  (Ron claims to be 5'8", but he is really closer to 5'7"...shhh..don't tell him I told you).  Ron's mother never made it to five feet and my mother is just over 5 feet.

So, ladders and step-stools are a bit of a necessity in our house.  We have ones handy in the kitchen (and not just for the kids---man, this house has tall cabinets!) and even in the bathrooms for Ben to be able to reach to attempt to wash his hands without splashing water everywhere.  But, in order to paint, one needs a ladder. So, we thought we were all smarty-pants-ladder-buyers when instead of buying 2 or 3 different ladders we decided to buy one of those convertible ladders touted to "meet all your needs." 

(Insert cheesy car-salesman voice)

"It's a ladder! It's a scaffold! It's an extension ladder! It's a stair-step ladder for those hard to reach lights over stairways!"

What that voice should actually say is...

"It's awkward!  It's heavy!  It's impossible to operate with one person!  It will smash your hands when you least expect it!  IT IS THE LADDER OF DEATH!"

Well, "ladder of death" may be exaggerating a little...but, I did manage on my first day of painting to get my hand awkwardly caught and smashed.  I mean smashed.  I really thought it was broken. I broke into a sweat.  My head starting spinning.  I almost threw up.  And I said many words that should not be repeated in front of small children.  Many words.  Loudly.

After the initial shock wore off and I sat with an icepack on my now swollen, bumpy hand, I became very angry.  Angry at that stupid ladder.  It was not going to beat me and my painting!  So, to hell with the ladder of death and off to my favorite hardware store I went to buy a "regular" 6-foot aluminum ladder!

I forged ahead and got the first coat of paint done in one of my bathrooms, and for the next several days I alternated ice packs and paint brushes to prove to that damn ladder that it will not defeat me!

Two of our bathrooms have been "beachified" and my hand is still swollen, bumpy and sore (but not broken).  Next up is the kitchen and family room!

We are slowly making this place our own and each day we take another step towards being "local"...

But really, what will I do?

Today was our "last day" to get things one before Ron starts his new job tomorrow and I put on my "housewife" (stay-at home mom, domestic diva, whatever you choose to call it) hat that I have not worn in many, many years.  The past few weeks have had an odd feeling.  Not quite vacation, but not quite "real life" either.  Neither one of us has been working, so we have been puttering around the house, getting to know the area and its fun places and spending money on all those little odds and ends you need it a new home (that quickly add up in price!).

Today we surrendered our last "visible" sign of being tourists--our Indiana license plates.  We got our North Carolina driver's licenses a few weeks ago, but hadn't done the plates yet (you have to wait until your lovely new NC license comes to you in the mail before you can do plates).  To that end, we discovered that a CDL transfers states without having to re-test while I, on the other hand, had to take the written test (or computer station test).  Ron and I were both shocked by the speed in which the DMV worked this morning.  In and out in less than 10 minutes.  Shock and awe! 

We were like kids opening a new present, we couldn't wait to get home and put them on our cars.  We stood back and looked at both vehicles--at least our cars don't look like tourists anymore.  We would no longer get the puzzled look followed by the "you're from Indiana?"  when someone helps us put something in our car.  (I stopped counting how many times we have gotten that comment in the last 5 weeks).

Ron was fortunate enough to land a job in his field only 10 days after arriving here.   After a few weeks of down time, paperwork and pre-employment physicals along with the ever-popular required pee-in-a-cup test, he will return to the working world tomorrow.  I think he is relieved a bit, especially knowing the days until full-coverage health insurance are now only 31 days away.  (We were responsible parents and purchased high-deductible short term major medical insurance, but it has no "bells and whistles" like office visits, drug coverage and dental).  Even though he won't admit it, I think he is looking forward to it.  New places, new faces, new challenges, new opportunities; and a new potato chip van in our driveway!

I am still feeling a little unsettled -- routine is good in some ways, not just for the kids.  They jumped in right away and started school after only a week off (we moved over spring break).  Although they claim school is "no big deal"  I do think it has helped them feel a little more at home, getting them into a daily routine and making new friends right away.

The last time I had this much time without working outside my home was when I had Ben -- almost 7 years ago.  This time is much different with no little ones at home needing my attention, what will I do (besides checking Facebook to see what everyone else is doing?).  I have many projects to work on around the house that I would like to get done before I start working again.  There are always dishes to be done and clothes to be washed...but I am still wondering..

But, really, what will I do? 

My job was always important to me.  I didn't love it every day, but who does?  But, for the most part, I enjoyed helping customers and I really enjoyed the group of colleagues I worked with.  They were a great group, and I miss them.  I wonder if my next job will provide the same sort of camaraderie?  I hope so.

But, really, what will I do?

I have asked myself that question over and over, especially as I scour the internet looking for jobs. Should I stay in banking?  Banking was never a career I planned, more like one I fell into.  Do I stay in banking because that is what I know and my experience is?  Do I try something new?  I have replied to a variety of ads and postings and nothing has jumped out yet.  Every day I look and every day I ask...

Really, what will I do?

I don't know the answer yet, but for now, I will keep asking...

Is anybody a local?

Anyone who knows my husband knows he is a talker.  He will talk to anyone who is standing still long enough and close enough to him.  To his advantage, this has come in handy in jobs, getting directions (yes, he will ask over using any kind of GPS) and the best places to eat.

So, just about everywhere we have gone or anyone who has come by our house (neighbors, delivery people, etc) Ron has struck up a conversation with them.  The person in line behind us at a store gave us directions to another store.  The people at the booth next to us at a local pizza place turned out to know several of our neighbors and were familiar with the company Ron will be working for even though it is based in Pennsylvania.  The Lowe's delivery guy told us about more than a handful of restaurants as he was delivering our "beer fridge" (and yes, there are other beverages besides beer in it).

One thing that all of these very friendly people have in common with each other and us is that no one is "from" here.  Every one of them is a "transplant" from somewhere else.  I guess that comes from living in a "resort" area and a town that has only existed for 15 years.  One town over has been an organized town for 50 years and another since 1973. 

Most we have talked to are from further up the East Coast; New Jersey, New York, Massachusetts.  We have met people from Pennsylvania, Ohio and even Utah. 

Each person has a similar story to ours in some way.  Something drove them to leave their hometowns and live by the sea.  They came for family, friends or the weather.  They were tired of the cold.  They vacationed here for years.  They were once tourists, too. 

Just like us.

So, we are not alone in our craziness (at least not this facet of it).  We vacationed here for years.  We loved the beach here.  We love walking in the sand.  We love the smell of the sea air.  And all of these people we have met have traveled the road we are now on.  They have found their "new" normal and aren't tourists anymore.  They seem to be fine.

And we will be too, we just have to be patient, find our new normal and enjoy the ride...

Man, you are annoying me!

They say two of the hardest things on a marriage are moving and loss of a job.  Well, we voluntarily did both of those, at the same time.  Again, are we crazy?

Uhm, today the answer was yes.  Today was just one of those days where the mere fact that my husband was breathing too close to me was annoying.  His lurking over my shoulder as I tried to read the paper-- annoying.  His asking what I was doing when the answer was quite obvious -- annoying.  The smell of his coffee.  ESPN first thing in the morning.  Leaving crumbs on the table from his breakfast. All annoying.  The fact the kids were at school and could not provide a diversion from his annoying me?  More annoying.

Ron and I have been married for almost 16 years.  Actually 15 years and 10 months.  5,752 days. 138,048 hours. 8,282,880 minutes.  496,972,800 seconds. 

For the past 37 days we have been in each other's company virtually 24/7.  Again, we did this by choice.  For the most part we have been getting along great.  Surprising well, actually.  We have actually begun to have similar thoughts and opinions.  Yesterday, we both wore the same color shirts without intending to do so.  Neither one of us is used to not working. We are not used to having our days to spend with each other without the kids home.  What to you do after the kids are at school and "Mike and Mike in the Morning" is over?  (Besides that). 

I think it was obvious that he was just on my nerves.  And it wasn't anything in particular he was doing.  He was just there. When I am not used to him being there. All. The. Time.

The fact that is was windy and trying to rain made it more difficult to send him off to the beach.  Was there an errand I needed to run?  Or he needed to run?  Run somewhere.  Anywhere.

The really great thing about my husband is that I can be really honest and say whatever I am thinking or feeling and he rarely gets offended.  So, time to lay it on the line. 

"I am going to the store."

"Want me to come?"

"No."

"What store?"

"Any store.  Alone."

He got the point immediately because his response was "Am I doing something in particular to bother you or I am just annoying you?"

"You are just annoying me."

To which he shrugged his shoulders and said "OK."

You have to keep in mind that any store of significant size is at least 15 minutes away.  Just to walk around Wal-Mart would require me to be gone at least an hour. 

Alone.

So, I set off, headed for North Myrtle Beach, the closest shopping mecca.

Alone. 

I picked up a few things at Wal-Mart.  I looked at some shoes.  I looked at paint samples and ceiling fans at Lowe's.  I stopped at a couple consignment shops (there are tons here!) and a few little gift shops. I bought the tackiest glass fish vase that I love.  You know the kind, the vase opening is his mouth...

Alone.

Then, as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't want to be alone.  As much as I was annoyed by my husband's presence this morning, when I was alone I still missed him.  He is still my best friend.  He is still the person I depend on the most.  He is still the person that makes me laugh the most. He is also the person that frustrates me the most.  And angers me the most.  And annoys me the most. Some days being married to him are really fun and easy.  Some days being married to him are really difficult and hard work.  But, all days I love him.  Even when he annoys me.  I can't imagine taking this journey with anyone else.

Crap, even that realization annoys me!

Here we are...now what?

About a month ago, I walked away from a job I have had my entire professional career.  I said goodbye to my friends, my house and the town I had lived in for all of my adult life.  (Well, all of my responsible, job-holding, bill-paying life.  Life in college does not count as responsible, job-holding or bill-paying).

My husband and I loaded our three kids and everything we owned and set off on the great adventure --to live near the ocean.  The great unknown.  The great crazy as many of my friends have called it.  We moved our family more than 900 miles (947, in fact) to live somewhere we have only known as tourists.  We don't have a lot of family here, we don't have any friends here, and we don't have jobs here.  Are we brave?  Or are we crazy?  Maybe a little of both.  I have often thought it takes a little crazy to be brave. To step into the unknown.  To take a chance.

We have always wanted to live near the beach.  To be able to walk in the sand whenever we want.  To not have to shovel snow in the winter.  To be warm.  We have said "someday" for years.  For many years.  Finally, you have to decide;  when is it your "someday"?

Today is our "someday".  (To be honest, a month ago was our "someday", but give me a little license here.  You know, boxes, computers that don't work right away, internet service taking a while to get hooked up).  So, we said good-bye to the snowy Golden Dome of Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana and headed for our favorite beach; Sunset Beach, North Carolina.  (OK, close to our favorite beach, 6 miles away in Carolina Shores.  I moved, I didn't win the lottery.  So we don't live "on" the beach.  But pretty darn close.)

So, as I sit in a still chaotic house, with many yet-to-be unpacked boxes, I have to figure out how to live a new life here.  How to find my new normal.  How to help my kids find their new normal.  How to make my marriage find its new normal.

Am I a tourist?  No.  I live here now.  I still have to remind myself of that.

Am I a local? No.  I still get turned around trying to find the closest grocery store.

I am somewhere in between tourist and local....the journey begins...