newbies

In regards to most situations in life, both Matthew and I unfortunately have a pessimistic bent. Yet, in regards to buying a home, we were both blindly optimistic and blissfully unaware of just how ugly it would get.

We are total amateurs in this nasty game known as purchasing a home. We envisioned a peaceful 12 hour drive down the east coast, a brief walk-through inspection yielding everything in the 80+ year old home in sparkling, perfect condition, a laughter-filled, good-vibe closing, and toasting to our new home with our realtor and seller/realtor. Ha. Good joke.

Instead we had a stress-filled, stroller-flying car trip. A revealing inspection including a totally rusted out sewer pipe and weak supporting beams in a few areas. A snot of a seller/realtor who refused to own up to the structural issues and threatened us with pulling out of the deal and even had the gall to place an Open House sign out on our front lawn for today…until she heard from our realtor, in a few colorful words, that if she messed with us, she was messing with the entire Hall contingent here in Greenville – relatives which included a local realtor, an engineering firm and an attorney who would not be tossing her name around for recommendations. From that point on said seller/realtor turned syrupy-southern-sweet and tried to salvage all her former snotty comments. I will refrain from referring to her in the colorful words I had chosen over the past few days.

As of yesterday, we were wondering whether this house was gone and if we should start the search for a rental until another home was found. Thankfully, that’s no longer a concern as we will officially be moving in on Wednesday, closing on Thursday. But needless to say, it has been a stressful, unsettling weekend. On top of Matthew working 10+ hour days – including the weekend – to finish up this project. Brighton’s illness equaling hacking/coughing, restless sleep. Both the boys feeling the weight of this transition (and their parent’s short tempers) equaling more restless sleep and more-than-usual-crankiness. And all of us adjusting to life in the south and the fact that Philly, the city, is no longer our home.

In the midst of all this stress, my aunt and uncle’s home has been a comforting refuge and place of rest for our whole family. Brighton adores the extra attention and we’ve all enjoyed the healthy, home-cooked meals, and light-heartened, easy conversation in the midst of heavy, stressful decisions.

Last night, David & Sharon ushered Matthew and I out the door for some time away from the boys and away from life. We enjoyed sushi, wine and a stroll through our new downtown, a stark contrast to the Philadelphian nightlife, but much more alive and full of activity than we had anticipated. The streets were crowded with people, street bands, outdoor cafes. We began to think we just might grow to love this city and find our niche amongst the ya’lls, heavily perfumed women and gelled-back hair. We even felt for a moment we were back in a big city…

…that is until the parking garage gentleman winced at our twenty dollar bill. “Weeeell, dontcha have anything smaller than that, sir? I jes don’t think I have change for a twenty!”

A twenty?! Are you kidding me?!? You don’t have change for a twenty on a Saturday night?!? We are definitely, definitely not in the big city anymore.

But that is a good thing. I really mean that. Lest my joking infer otherwise, we are truly glad we are here. Yes, it is an adjustment. It is going to be a rough transition. There will be many speed “humps” along the way. We are both dealing with culture shock in our own way. But we know, without a doubt, this is where we are meant to be. We also know, without a doubt, that it is going to take a lot of dying to enter a culture that is so foreign to who we are (or have become, in my case) and let go of what we had known.

I am exhausted. From bearing the weight of these kids and their needs while Matthew plugs away at work. From being away from my family during this time of mourning and celebrating Papa yesterday at his funeral. From wondering for 24 hours why God brought us here if our house was going to fall through and we’d be left homeless. From lack of sleep these boys are offering. I am off to bed. Anxiously anticipating my sisters arrival on Tuesday and hopefully my mom’s arrival later this week. To be perfectly honest, I suck at transitions. I am totally worn out. Christ sustain me. And my readers who have to forgo the usual picture-laden posts until the beloved camera is unpacked.