I was going to write about my weekend (we spent the night out of town to celebrate our anniversary), but the weekend was SOOO horrible, that I decided to eschew that entire post. I don't want to remember the majority of the weekend sucked, the only high point being the food.
Suffice to say the weekend has ended with us staying with our in-laws and washing the majority of our belongings at a local laundry mat.
Most people would say that the worst part of my weekend would be the staying with the in-laws part, but really, I don't mind that at all. So here's a story I don't mind telling. In 2008, when Sean was 10 months old, I starting teaching. Within a span of one week I started graduate courses, Sean started day care, I started my new teaching job, and our house sold. The economy had totally tanked and we weren't expecting the house to sale, but four weeks after listing it, the dern thing sold. With all the other stresses going on, we hadn't even looked at a single house. The buyers wanted to move in immediately.
The weekend before I started teaching we had a marathon pack up and found ourselves with no real choice other than to move into my husband's childhood home. At first it was a little awkward living there. It was odd to sleep in Curtis's bed and eat dinner with his mom and dad every night. But there are lots of perks- of course they all sound superficial and selfish- dinner every night, clothes washed and folded, built-in babysitter.
I know looking back that there is no way I would have survived that first year of teaching. I had class two nights a week. I got to school every morning at 6:30 and often stayed until 6:30 at night. I would come home and eat, prepare for the next day and crash while nursing Sean. If not for my mother-in-law, I would have lost my mind. And tonight I am thankful again that I have somewhere safe I can go. Maybe one day you'll hear the rest of my weekend story, but I seriously doubt it. Seriously.