Our hideous, educational journey we called “Minnesota” is almost complete. This weekend we move back into our old house, the one we decided not to sell because 1) the market wasn’t good and 2) we wanted to keep it in case we needed to move back. Well, we moved back. And now after ten months of living in my mom’s house, our journey ends back where we started, but this time a little older and a little wiser.
A big thanks must go to the tenants. They took excellent care of our house. Very view scratches and scuffs, and the only evidence of the dog they owned is in the backyard where the grass is torn up. It’s all good, the kids would have done the same. They painted our kitchen from the horrible Wendy’s napkin yellow to a nice sagey-bluish green. We’re keeping that. They did paint our bedroom the worst shade of aqua ever imagined. That will be turned back to “mannered gold” a la Sherwin Williams (it’s being painted as I type).
I could wax philosophically about the lessons we’ve learned, why it was good for us, what we would do differently, yadda yadda yadda, but the truth is I’m ready to feel settled again. For eighteen months it has felt like a constant upheaval, never quite being in the right space. The house in Caledonia (and Caledonia in general) were horrible. The house in Spring Grove was very nice, but not far enough from the unfriendly community Josh still worked in. My mom’s house has been open and welcoming, but still not our space. It’s like being a house guest where you want to tread lightly, and then you feel really bad when your youngest spills his special soy milk on the carpet, and the stains don’t easily come out. I’d rather deal with that on my carpet rather than my mom’s, even though she told us to trash it because it would be replaced when we left. Still.
There’s a lot to say about this still, but to do so would drone on and on and on, so the last I’ll say about it for now is we would not have done this without help and support from family and friends. When we decided to move back, we were waiting for the inevitable “oh geez, they couldn’t even make it there. I knew this would happen, they shouldn’t have gone at all.” I’m happy to say that the voices who said they were happy to have us back outnumbered the Negative Nellies. The people who helped us innumerably will be thanked very soon.
Another piece of our next chapter involves Zach and his hearing. He recently had his hearing retested, and the results of that showed his hearing has deteriorated to profound loss in both ears. This means we are starting to explore cochlear implants. We meet with an ENT next week to begin the evaluation process. Our hope is that his cochleas are healthy, and have not ossified, which can be a result of meningitis. He will need an MRI to determine if this has happened. So, our prayers right now for him are for healthy cochleas and that he will be a successful candidate. Our little man needs to have his hearing restored to enable him to communicate through speech. With his existing challenges, we think it is better for him to have cochlear implants to provide him with bionic hearing rather than relying solely on sign language.
This is something we were made aware of while he was still in the hospital, so it’s not such a shock. The hearing test results were a bit of a shock only because my mommy eyes were convinced the hearing aids were working and he was responding to sound. I think I’m in tune with him too well and can read him and misinterpreted what was going on. So, this goes on as we are busy with our move, which reinforces the notion that life doesn’t care what you have going on, and it will keep throwing curve balls. By the same token, as they say, God doesn’t give you any more than you can handle.