Gettin' My Move On: Part I

Getting over It.

Our Project: Relocate to Utah house hunting began in early May. I am at a loss of words to properly capture my feelings about that. Just days after moving back to Chicago after living 2.5 short months {editors note: placing "2.5" and "short" next to each other is redundant, but necessary. Sometimes 2.5 months can feel like eternity (expectant mothers know exactly what I am talking about) so it is important to clarify, even at the sake of being redundant} in Idaho, I had to start looking for yet another home to land in by summer’s end. Is there a single word that rolls anxious, excited, nerve-wracking, and heart-breaking into one? If so, that word would be a perfect summation of my feelings.

I was also dealing with my “hind-sight is always 20-20” irritation about our jaunt to Idaho. When we left Chicago in January, I was not exactly overflowing with an overwhelming amount of support regarding our temporary relocation to Idaho. Not that I was going kicking and screaming. I just had some minor hesitations. Case in point: Boise State's summers are an entire month shorter than many other Utah and Idaho universities, and I just didn't see much sense in living close to a college town to recruit students who had such a short summer to sell.

Another, much more selfish (and childish might I add) source of my hesitation came from the fact that Idaho, at least the Boise area, was pretty foreign to me insofar as navigating was concerned. Unfamiliar places have never really bothered me before. We've lived in a dozen or so "foreign" cities and it never phased me before. What bothered me was the idea of giving up much of my independence to squander around my new little town, while Kyle could effortlessly get from point A to point B. Kyle grew up in Boise. I may as well have been dropped off in Beijing (minus the language barrier and driving on the left side of the road, of course). I had visions of Kyle spending all his free time hanging out with old friends and reminscing his mischevious high school days, while I quietly kept trying to memorize the route to the grocery store without getting lost. Those of you who know Kyle should be gasping in complete disbelief. It was not a fair assessment of the kind of father or husband Kyle is. Sadly, I often let moving bring out the worst in me, and hinder my ability to assume the best of others. Even my husband. Especially my husband.

Despite how I may have painted this picture, Idaho was not a decision Kyle made on his own. It's not as if he said, "Honey, whether you like it or not, this is where we are moving." He did consult with me. I gave my meager opinions, but in truth I had no concrete proof to plea a case that perhaps Utah was a better place for us to be. And I willingly went. I just had my selfish reasons and reservations. Remember, I am only capable of reasoning with someone emotionally. Logic is about as familiar with me as Beijing is.

As he rightfully did, Kyle based the decision to move to Idaho on what made the most sense for the business. We had a respectable pool of guys in the Boise area. Recruiting 101 tells you that wherever the pool is, that’s where you recruit. However, about 2 weeks before we moved back to Chicago, our recruiting pool dried up to a few little droplets. This caused serious panic. It pains me to admit that I was this close to uttering those selfish, childish words, “Told you so!" In my 6 year-old, snot-nosed-brat mind, had we relocated to Utah, we could have just made one big move to Utah in January, found a place that met our needs indefinitely, unpacked, and recruited successfully for the 10 weeks we were there. Come April, we could have packed up our clothes and toothbrushes to Chicago for the summer, and I could enjoy myself there knowing I had a place waiting for me to return to come August. Instead, I spent a great deal of time sorting and packing based on the projected three moves. It was a pain.

It may seem that there is a huge disparity between what was going on in my head and the posts I wrote while living there. I really did enjoy myself in Idaho. My posts during that time were genuine and my happiness there was real. We found a great home in a wonderful community and I caught up with old friends and made new ones. Having the opportunity to live close to family was priceless and Cade and Savannah made so many fun memories there. We took a few fun family (and solo) mini-vacations during that time. Kyle, in fact, did not vanish off the face of the earth to re-live highschool. Life was good. My attitude didn't turn sour until it was time, yet again, to pack up the house, figure out where I was going to live in Chicago, meanwhile trying to swallow the recently discovered harsh reality that our sales force could be in the single digits. I'm quite gifted in the art of overlooking my blessings when trials are staring me in the face, and this time was no different.

And so come Cinco de Mayo, just having landed in Chicago and still not completely settled, I found myself house hunting AGAIN with a husband more stressed than I have ever before witnessed. In fact, up until that point, I was pretty sure Kyle was completely oblivious to what “stressed out” meant and it unnerved me to no end, seeing as how I had artfully mastered that craft years ago. Watching Kyle pace and panic over the upcoming summer and his fear of failure really tugged at my heart strings.

I can't recall what finally clicked with me, but with some effort, I finally decided to let go of the past. I recognized that yes, hind-sight is 20-20 but I needed to get over my "shoulda coulda woulda" thoughts. The two moves were done and over with, so pointing fingers or wishing I could hop into Marty McFly's Delorean to change the past would not change that it was time to live in the present. I began counting my blessings and looking at my circumstances through softer, kinder eyes.

Oh Me of Little Faith

It isn't so strange that once I changed my attitude, the blessings began to flow. For starters, I could not deny our perfect Chicago set-up. How nice was it that we moved into a home fully furnished and provided by the world’s dearest neighbor? Cade got to re-enroll in his Pre-school, Kyle got to keep the same fabulous commute of 7 minutes, and we all were able to return to our beloved church congregation and pick up right where we left off with those friendships. In addition to the standing friends I was thrilled to return to, we also got to make new ones. One family in particular had just recently moved into our church congregation’s boundaries. They had a 5 year-old son and a 2 year-old daughter. Nice! Not being in Chicago long enough, Susan, the mother, for some reason found my home “not very far” to drive to. 25 minutes is not exactly a stone's throw away. Lucky for me, Susan always happily accepted an invitation to play and our kids got along swimmingly. She kindly shared with me the numerous miracles that brought her family to Chicago and I fiercly held on to her words, admiring her faith as she had, too, stepped into the dark, unknown.

Another tender mercy which kept me afloat was being extended the opportunity to serve with the youth in my church, despite being a temporary, transient member of the ward. I was able to serve with my friends – the leaders and the young women, and what a blessing it was to be about the Lord's work, even if in just small and simple ways. It was a much needed distraction.

Most miraculously, almost overnight it seems now looking back, the recruits began spilling into our office. All of the fruits of Kyle's labors seemed to cash in. It wasn't all at once, but was a continuous, free-flowing abundant stream that never really waned. And the success of the salesmen was truly unreal. The only bad side was his hours were even longer than usual. I have yet to understand how the office defied the economic slump that plagued the country, and still manages to do that today. Hard work is the best recipe for success, and the sales reps were working very hard. So success was just anticipated. I was just blown away at the degree of it. And for that surprise, I was grateful.

So with things going so well, how could I deny the Lord’s hand in all things? Well, I can be pretty forgetful.