Our House

I've been kinda neglecting the new homestead in my desire to maximize time spent playing with my friend whose departure is looming, and it has really started to show in the yard. I've been doing a minimal amount of mowing, and even that schedule has been interrupted by a mishap with oil that rendered the mower I just bought unstartable for a couple of weeks. Sigh.

Then last night, in a nearly dusk effort to mow the side yard, I managed to chop a root in such a way that my mower, which just got fixed this week, decided to quit altogether. Now it needs, at the very least, a new blade, and I need a new system for mowing the maze of rocks and roots that runs through the lawn at our new house.

I love this house, I really do. I was craving more space at the old house, the one with the postage stamp yard that was so easy to mow, and I was craving different space. That's why we moved, why I decided it was worth stretching myself financially. I guess part of me knew it would be harder to keep a bigger house clean and a bigger yard kempt, but I kinda glossed over that part in some ways too.

And in the interest of telling the whole story, I also moved because I wanted to create space for a partner. Our old house was like a womb. It held the three of us comfortably, like triplets, but there wasn't any room for anyone else there. I suppose I wanted it that way for a while. And then I didn't.

Curiously, or maybe not so curiously, our move to this house marked a shift in my relationship with my New Englander. For my part, I recognized that I no longer wanted to play house while maintaining two households, or pretend we were moving toward living together and getting married if we really weren't, so I made it clear that things wouldn't be like they were before, with him staying over more often than not, eating most meals together, etc. We both knew that his lease would expire this summer, and it would be decision time, but I don't think I ever really believed, in my heart of hearts, that there was an outcome other than the four of us living here together.

Well. Hearts are great for a lot of things, but they want what they want, facts be damned, and I'm here this morning, the morning that marks the last 24 hours that my love and I will live in the same town, to say there is another outcome, and it's him moving away, and my kids and I left to make our way in this bigger space with more possibility but also more vulnerability:

Just the three of us, we can make it if we try...

It's a good thing I've got such great kids. Last night my daughter helped me mow the lawn by doing the backyard, and then after I broke the mower in the side yard, she rubbed my arm while I cried in child's pose, my favorite asana of surrender.

It's also a good thing that I've got a pretty darn happy song here to mark my day, a song reminding us that sometimes a little Madness goes a long way:

Our house, in the middle of our street 

Our house, in the middle of our ...

Our house it has a crowd 

There's always something happening 

And it's usually quite loud 

Our mum she's so house-proud 

Nothing ever slows her down 

And a mess is not allowed

(Ok so maybe not every line fits perfectly -- ignore the last two and the next two for a better fit.) 

Father gets up late for work 

Mother has to iron his shirt 

Then she sends the kids to school 

Sees them off with a small kiss 

She's the one they're going to miss 

In lots of ways 

Our house, in the middle of our street 

Our house, in the middle of our ... 

I remember way back then when everything was true and when 

We would have such a very good time such a fine time 

Such a happy time 

And I remember how we'd play simply waste the day away 

Then we'd say nothing would come between us two dreamers

I know that we won't always live here. I know that in a lot of ways the eight years that I have left of kids at home will fly by, so I'm going to try to savor it while I still can. Someday in the not too distant future, when my kids go off to college and I go off to my next adventure, living on La Crosse Lane will be but a memory:

Our house, was our castle and our keep 

Our house, in the middle of our street 

Our house, that was where we used to sleep 

Our house, in the middle of our street...