The only constant I have from my childhood is that things were always changing.
We moved a lot. We changed addresses the way some other families changed seasonal decor. Seriously. I counted once; 17 times before I graduated from high school. I often get asked if I was an "army brat." No. I wish I could say our gypsy lifestyle was due to something that honourable. The truth is, I really don't know (although I suspect) the reasons. I only know I was ALWAYS the new kid at school in a sea of kids who had all mostly known each other since Kindergarten. I made friends, of course. But, sometimes just as quickly as we'd get comfortable we were packing up again. I wonder now why we even unpacked at all.
For my child it would be different.
Two weeks ago we moved. For Isabel, it was a first and she was nervous. Under any circumstances, moving is stressful and scary. But now I have to do it with a big smile for my 8-year-old. As a parent, I like to think I've done my job. We've given her roots. That's always been my ultimate goal. Our old place was her house. She knew where things were. The neighbourhood was full of familiar sounds and faces. We were comfortable. But, like many families before, we simply outgrew the space. We are a small family, to be sure, but we have A LOT of stuff and tons more things. Also, my dear little is now asking for more privacy. So are her parents.
As I prepared the week prior to our move, I took to Facebook to see if there were any other people in my community groups that lived on our soon-to-be street. Several responses later, I was direct messaging with my new next door neighbour. Ain't that internet great?! A few days later, while unloading our moving truck (well...while watching the movers unload the truck, I'm 40 for Christ's sake), we were greeted by several warm faces. And a group of little girls that seem to rule the street quickly accepted Isabel into their exclusive club. She is thrilled. Our second night here she proclaimed, "I hope we never move!"
We probably will though.
But not today. And not for a while if I have anything to say. And unlike 8-year-old Vanessa, I do. Finally.
For now, Isabel's insecurities (and ours too) have subsided. She's just learned two very important lessons;
1. Our address may change as the years go by but home will always be wherever we're together. Our little family fills these rooms with love and that's what makes it home. And I will try my hardest not to do this to her 16 more times. Oy. I don't think my back could take it, anyway.
2. Sometimes change is good. (a reasonable amount) It can bring new friends and new adventures. We have to be open to it. We have to be brave.
I hope one day she'll appreciate my efforts. She'll look back at the times she told me she was bored or sick of us always being around and realize how blessed she is. I was always jealous of the kids that had that stability. But, I guess that's every parents wish though.
Vanessa Sully
We moved a lot. We changed addresses the way some other families changed seasonal decor. Seriously. I counted once; 17 times before I graduated from high school. I often get asked if I was an "army brat." No. I wish I could say our gypsy lifestyle was due to something that honourable. The truth is, I really don't know (although I suspect) the reasons. I only know I was ALWAYS the new kid at school in a sea of kids who had all mostly known each other since Kindergarten. I made friends, of course. But, sometimes just as quickly as we'd get comfortable we were packing up again. I wonder now why we even unpacked at all.
For my child it would be different.
Two weeks ago we moved. For Isabel, it was a first and she was nervous. Under any circumstances, moving is stressful and scary. But now I have to do it with a big smile for my 8-year-old. As a parent, I like to think I've done my job. We've given her roots. That's always been my ultimate goal. Our old place was her house. She knew where things were. The neighbourhood was full of familiar sounds and faces. We were comfortable. But, like many families before, we simply outgrew the space. We are a small family, to be sure, but we have A LOT of stuff and tons more things. Also, my dear little is now asking for more privacy. So are her parents.
As I prepared the week prior to our move, I took to Facebook to see if there were any other people in my community groups that lived on our soon-to-be street. Several responses later, I was direct messaging with my new next door neighbour. Ain't that internet great?! A few days later, while unloading our moving truck (well...while watching the movers unload the truck, I'm 40 for Christ's sake), we were greeted by several warm faces. And a group of little girls that seem to rule the street quickly accepted Isabel into their exclusive club. She is thrilled. Our second night here she proclaimed, "I hope we never move!"
We probably will though.
But not today. And not for a while if I have anything to say. And unlike 8-year-old Vanessa, I do. Finally.
For now, Isabel's insecurities (and ours too) have subsided. She's just learned two very important lessons;
1. Our address may change as the years go by but home will always be wherever we're together. Our little family fills these rooms with love and that's what makes it home. And I will try my hardest not to do this to her 16 more times. Oy. I don't think my back could take it, anyway.
2. Sometimes change is good. (a reasonable amount) It can bring new friends and new adventures. We have to be open to it. We have to be brave.
I hope one day she'll appreciate my efforts. She'll look back at the times she told me she was bored or sick of us always being around and realize how blessed she is. I was always jealous of the kids that had that stability. But, I guess that's every parents wish though.
Vanessa Sully
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| Our new place. |
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