I’m sitting right now in the mess of my new office, in our new rental house, looking out at our honest-to-goodness backyard.

The last two days have been rough. My mother and brother were in town to drop someone off at the airport (Montanans are fine driving 9 hours to get to a cheaper airport) so we hijacked their time and their SUV and tried to move everything in two marathon days.

I wandered around alternatively trying to lift things too heavy for me or plopping down in a corner, exhausted. Asking other people to carry things for me? Super difficult.

But in only two days, and without completely killing this pregnant lady, or anyone else, 90% of our stuff is in the new place. In a mess in the middle of the floor.

The hilarious question is: why am I doing this?

See, we’re also buying a house

We were trying to make it work in our old place until two of the hubster’s mother’s houses sold and we could buy a new place. Only needing to move once.

The truth is, we got an amazing deal on this rental house, but we can’t really afford it.

We just got a storage unit to try to ease the squeeze on our old apartment… The old apartment wasn’t even that bad. I cried when we said goodbye to the landlords. I’ll cry again if I think of all my cat friends there.

It seemed like exactly the wrong time to move. And when we committed to moving anyway, then, wonder of wonders, the houses we thought would be on the market for months more…sold.

So in the next four months we’ll be buying a house, renovating it, moving again and having a baby. Hopefully in that order.

And it seems like madness. We could be in this new rental place for just two months. Four tops.

The the thing is…

My point here (beyond complaining) is that things happen in strange orders and for reasons that don’t always make sense to us.

No matter how much we tried to make it work in our old apartment, my soul was giving me pretty clear indicators it was time to go. I’d gotten to the point where I would burst into tears whenever we had to go back to the apartment. When I couldn’t sleep I’d started sneaking out of the house at 3a.m. to make the 25 minute drive up north to this neighborhood, just to feel it, to say hi.

My soul was not particularly convinced by logical or financial arguments. And once we committed to moving, we found the cheapest place available in an amazing location. It happened that my mother would be in town to help us move. It happened that the other houses sold so we should be living rent and mortgage free in a few months.

I’m not saying “leap and the net will appear.” I think that’s the kind of advice that’ll win you Darwin Awards.

What I’m saying is there are reasons.

Here we are learning about integrating our stuff more deeply. Here we have a chance to cull the things we don’t want to bring with us into a new house. Here we have a chance to set up routines and make friends in the neighborhood we love while the weather is still good.

That’s important. That’s worth all the hassle of moving at 6 months pregnant. Even on days (like today) when it doesn’t necessarily seem like it.

In your life

Is there anywhere you’re avoiding the shape your story wants to take because it’s not the one that makes surface sense to you? What else do you need to say yes to, in order to say yes to your dream?

Love,

Rhiannon