On Tuesday, at about 4 PM, you may have heard something. Something that sounded a lot like a big gust of wind blowing through your hair.
I’ll tell you right now that that sound was me, sighing the biggest sigh of relief to sweep the plains of Nebraska. After months of alternating between my parents’ house and Paul’s parents’ house, I finally found the right place.
As much as I’d like to tell you guys that we’re moving into that house we’ve been crossing our fingers for, I can’t. We’re still waiting on that one. For now, anyway. I can tell you, though, that my mom, Charlie, and I spent last week happily hanging out at my Grandma A’s house in the Sandhills of Nebraska.
Now, I don’t know if you’ve been to the Sandhills, but they’re pretty awesome. The water is the most delicious, pure water you’ve ever tasted before. Right out of the tap. Here, you can fill a glass of water up in the bathroom and take it straight to your bedside table without cringing a little bit before dumping it out and trekking to the Brita pitcher in your fridge. It’s peaceful, beautiful, and simple.
I know I should say it’s the Sandhills that have improved my general state, and I’m sure that’s a big part of it, but I have to be honest and say that it’s actually my Grandma’s freaking spectacular house that really did the trick.
A little while after my Grandpa died, my Grandma decided to buy a house in the small town near their old home, rather than live waaaaaay out in the Boonies all by herself. At first, the thought of not going back to the big house out in the hills made me pretty sad. I’ve got an incredible amount of memories attached to that place, and I couldn’t understand how abrand spanking new house could possibly be satisfying.
Oh, my gosh, I don’t know what it is, but this new house is definitely satisfying. First of all, I can tell that my Grandma is happy here. I think her contentment fills up the whole house and makes everything just that much better.
Charlie also is totally comfortable. There’s carpet in most of the house (my parents have lots of very pretty, very un-squishy ceramic tile), and there are even very old fashioned wooden toys in the garage. The Jacuzzi tub is the size of a smart car and is perfectly angled for Hotwheels cars to speed down at break-neck speeds.
He even spent a morning at the neighbors’ house playing with new “fwends,” where my mom promptly told me to “Go back and do whatever I want to do while they play for another hour.”
It was the perfect change of scenery to give me a much-needed second wind. We’ve still got a couple weeks of separation and displacement ahead of us, but we’re starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. (It, of course, could be some jerk lighting a cigarette further up the path, but I’m going to choose to believe that it’s that proverbial sign of hope.)
I wish I would have brought a camera with us, but at this point, I’m pretty lucky to have remembered to bring diapers. As a result, I don’t have any pictures to share of the trip, but I do have a picture of my Grandma snuggling a very little Charlie. If you’re interested in some sandhills pictures, check out my cousin’s blog here and here.
Today is the start of a new week. We went to Omaha this last weekend to get to our 20 week ultrasound appointment, and got to see our squirmy little Peanut #2. We purposely didn’t find out the sex of the baby, so it’s browns, greens, and yellows if anyone’s interested . . . 🙂 Things are starting to get exciting, and we’re getting close enough that I’m beginning to let myself think of things like decorating a little nursery nook in our bedroom, and other nesting-type stuff.
For some horrible reason, a reference to “getting off the bench and start playing the game” popped into my head. But that’s gross and I hate sports, so let’s just say this trip to the Sandhills has given me the boost I need to start acting like a productive human being again.
