Part 3: Gettin' My Move On

Coincidence?

A few months ago when re-capping our moving adventures from Idaho to Chicago on our blog, I publicly enlisted my friend Emily to help me figure out which school to put Cade in for Kindergarten. She responded that the only one she was comfortable evaluating and promoting was the very school she taught at before she decided to stay home with her children. She recommended Mrs. Amesse, a fabulous Kindergarten teacher and we happened to know her personally. The school she taught at also had a well-renowned dual-language immersion program, which peaked my interest immensely.

In college, my child development professor introduced the idea of a dual-language immersion program and recommended that we send our own kids to one if we were ever given the opportunity. That year his daughter was starting the program and he was impressed. A few years later, I happened to reunite with this professor in, of all places, Quito, Ecuador, where he had brought all 6 (or 7?) of his children down for a few weeks to give them an experience of a lifetime volunteering in orphanages. The daughter who participated in the dual immersion program blew me away with her near-fluent Spanish. I could not believe what a few years of school had done for her language skills. Ever since then, I tucked that thought in the back of my head… wouldn’t it be nice if my future children could learn a new language at a young age?

Over the last several months, Cade has quietly been wrapping his head around the concept of other languages. It started when Kyle would say family or meal prayers in Cebuano, a dialect of the Philippines. Cade would call this “Daddy talking in his funny voice.” Cade would listen intently to me converse with Jose the yard guy in Spanish, and always asked afterwards what we were saying.

And then one beautiful summer day out of the clear blue Cade declared, “Mom, I want to learn a new language”.

I grinned and said, “Cade, I may just be able to help you with that sooner than I thought.”

Enter the Parade of Homes

When you have a girlfriend who grew up in one of Provo’s most ideal neighborhoods and she’s trying to recruit you to her old stomping grounds, you smile, nod, but shake off the notion that it could happen. I mean, after all, this was a NICE neighborhood. And, Mrs. Amesse taught at the neighborhood elementary school. I mean, what are the chances, right?

One particular evening I was searching the internet for homes when I noticed a new one up for rent. It was big, recently renovated, and in a nice neighborhood. I noticed the address and about had a heart attack. It was right across the street from where my girlfriend grew up! The home would be available right when we needed move in. Again I ask, What were the chances? Apparently mine were looking pretty good at the moment.

The only downside was the price. It was X+300 (remember X?). I spoke with the landlords and after Kyle and I discussed it, I gave her my offering of X+150. She told me she would get back to me in a few days after talking it over with her husband.

A few days later, I didn’t hear back from her, so I called to follow up.

“Oh. Sorry, we decided we were going to put it up for sale.”

I wanted to cry. The Big Brick House was not to be mine. I felt like a balloon totally deflated of all possible hope and excitement about moving. Something so perfect and within reach was now miles away.

Fortunately, I had a list of back up options, thanks to my parents who searched all of Utah County for me before I drove out. When my parents moved me to college, little did they know that their efforts in juggling 7 pieces of luggage through the Salt Lake airport was to be the first of many, many times they would be juggling my possessions to a new home…bless their hearts. They haven’t had a chance to forget that being a parent is an eternal calling.

There was Option A. Located in South Provo with a gorgeous view, this home was nearly brand new and spacious. Even the price was right: X+$100. The downside: school. The elementary school didn’t get the greatest of ratings, so that made the call tricky. However, it really just comes down to the teacher to make or break your child’s experience.

Option B: My parents liked to call this the “Just Right House” It wasn’t until I drove out to Utah that I got to see what the inside offered. The neighborhood was quiet cul-de-sac which boasted of beautiful homes with lots of little kids. It was located right next to an excellent elementary school, and the price? Not bad. X+$50. However it really suffered in regards to storage space and closets. It lacked quite a bit in that regard. And it just didn’t feel very clean. The paint and carpet were far from neutral, but it did have a gorgeous fully-fenced yard.

Option C: This gem was unearthed a day after arriving in Utah. Located in the state’s best elementary school, this home seemed to meet all the requirements. It was even priced competitively: X-$105. On the outside it looked beautiful. It had a great yard, and the ward building was a stone’s throw away. It had 4 bedrooms, and the master had a walk-in closet. It wasn’t huge, but it was respectable. Did it have downsides? Oh yes. It was very bachelor-like. With white walls, gray carpet, and white trim, it felt sterile. The kitchen was tiny, and worst of all, it backed up to the 2 busiest cross streets in town. I had visions of little Savvy sneaking away and running out to the road. The back yard was fully fenced, but it still made me nervous. Or perhaps that was just the fear of realizing I’d have to be an aware mother sinking in. Heaven forbid I may actually have to pay attention to my kids to prevent them from throwing themselves onto a busy street. And the noise. Oh, it was noisy.

Tough call, right?