I am not a poet

I'm feeling rather waxy, in the poetical sense this week, but I am not a poet, so you get a string of words from your mom that may or may not have life lessons in them. I am not old, but I have a lot of experiences, and I think that qualifies me for some sort of wisdom.

We move a lot. A LOT. You know this, and I am painfully aware of it. I don't like switching up your routine, or forcing the "new kid" role on you, but it has been a necessary part of your life; not because we are running from anything, but because such is the life of an apartment dweller. When I gave our 60-day notice to the office, Asika the office lady lamented because we had lived there for "so long". We have lived there for two years and in two different units. Apartments are for transient people. People on the go. People who crave change and abhor stability.

That was me ten years ago, that is not me now.

This move should feel no different than any other. I shouldn't feel like such a big change is on the horizon. I'm welcoming it, anticipating it, but it's also making me anxious.

See, I'm taking a leap of faith here. I'm taking the chance that we'll be better off in two years than we are now, so that when grandma moves out, we can stay in that little townhouse that someone else owns, without another forbearance on my student loans. I am trying not to feel like I'm making a stupid move, because it is NOT a stupid move at all, I am just an overly cautious person. It is in my nature to imagine the worst, but this is me, imagining the best.

And I'm knocking on wood more than once a day.

I'm learning, slowly, that success doesn't come from caution, that risks must be taken to move forward. Change doesn't come easy and it doesn't come with a price tag. Perhaps a recession is the wrong time to adopt such optimism; but I'm motivated and I need to take advantage of it. Choosing the wrong time to lose weight is how I dropped it; so I'm hoping this will be no different.

And there you go, kiddo; a life lesson all wrapped up in a moving box and tied nicely with a bow. I love you.

Love,

Your cautiously (knock on wood!) optimistic Mom