January 11, 2013

Room For Waiting

Okay so I'm antsy. I had a feeling the numbness might wear off or at least come with a bit of an edge. I kind of would like to know where we are going to live.

The kids read to me while I knit, and they recite letters that came in the mail from friends over dinner, and compose responses after dessert. It's so very Jane Austen. Ivy "reads" her picture books and they are the longest stories of all because she describes- in great detail- every single thing on ev-ery page. But it makes a story and God bless my boys because they listen and laugh and don't mind her still.


"MOM, are we still going to Paris?" Ivy's voice always starts at maximum volume and then gets softer as I signal to her with my hands. We are in the car. I watch her from the rearview mirror.

"Yes."

"Ok how about in two days?" she decides and I think oh, if only.

But then thoughts of Paris have been farther from my mind lately I realize. Maybe it was the move. Maybe it is because I know soon we will live right by the ocean- something greater and more powerful than I can imagine and so it brings me back to size, and I feel safer, more alive knowing I'm right next to it.


Until then, we are all misplaced, in transit, kind of milling about for now.

16 comments:

  1. When you find your home, this will all be a distant memory. But I know right now it is SO very hard. Love you friend.

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  2. I love your writing, Steph. I'm sure this time is crazy and unsettling at times. You are amazing and so is your family. Love you.

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  3. a feeling of waiting for the next big thing is a great source of my anxiety, I know it well. Hopefully you find peace in these in-between moments, and until then, keep dreaming of that coast!

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  4. sitting in the waiting with you, sometimes it's more evident than others, but i think the waiting is always there. love these words.

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  5. Oh! I'm antsy for you. The beauty in this - of you, Ivy, the boys- the stories they read and the stories they'll tell. So breathtaking. Love you friend and so happy for you.

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  6. Waiting is so hard. Maybe you are feeling the pull of the ocean. I hope you find your home soon, so very soon.

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  7. I'm right there with you sweetheart. We still don't even know what state we're going to live in and I don't know when we'll know. When we were sitting at my picnic table painting and enjoying the day and the conversation, and the weather--I never would've dreamed we'd both be in this kind of transition together. (((hugs))) xoxo

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  8. I admire your strength and patience! You are super mom! It will all be worth it soon! I love you!

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  9. Sending peace & strength. I know that displaced feeling.. I'm living it!
    We'll all get to the brighter side <3

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  10. It's so hard to wait when there's no point in moving forward where you are. You're doing it just right, focusing on the little people in front of you. You're so good at that.

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  11. "Antsy". I love that word. I get that way a lot. I hope that you are less antsy soon. xo

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  12. UGH! I hate the unknown, the waiting. Hang in there. :-)

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  13. I'm milling around with you in spirit.

    xoxo

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  14. Goodness, I love your blog. Always have. Always will. You remain one of my favorites.

    Thanks for being you.

    stephanie@stephaniesheaffer.com

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  15. Because you can do it, we all can do it. Stay strong.

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  16. Love the "how about in 2 days?"

    My son woke up at 5am the other day asking if we could go to Japan for his next birthday.

    I would have brushed it off if not for your post - maybe we start saving for Japan - and visit several birthdays from now:-)

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