Clay, Will, and I are nearing the one-year anniversary of deciding to quit our jobs, move to NYC, and live on love (aka not money) in pursuit of a degree from Teacher's College.
In that year, almost everything about our lives has changed:
--We went from having more than enough financially to depleting our savings, living from paycheck to paycheck, and watching every penny.
--We went from both of us having full-time jobs as educators to neither one of us working full-time.
--Clay went from teacher to student.
--I went from teacher to stay-at-home mom, online teacher, and tutor.
--We went from living in Chattanooga, a town we loved that is full of people we still love more than life itself, to living in New York City, a "town" teeming with people we don't know and won't ever know.
--We went from living in a house full of wedding gifts and artwork and kitchen supplies to a 450 square foot apartment in a tall building full of similar apartments. Friends' Christmas cards hang from clothes pins--and I won't take them down until we move. Our kitchen is a closet.
--We went from living in a community to living pretty much on our own.
--We went from being active participants in a church to being three participants of thousands at perhaps the largest church in New York City (Redeemer Presbyterian).
--We went from having healthy exercise routines with friends at nice gyms and yoga studios to trying to squeeze in solo runs and workouts.
A lot has changed.
And for the sake of this blog being a scrapbook of sorts for our lives, I'll be completely honest: I struggle a lot with most of these changes. In fact, this year has been hard hard hard. I miss my old job, I miss our friends, I miss running with Ashley and working out in the GPS gym, I miss the ease of hopping in a car and going somewhere, I miss being within driving distance of my family, I miss the warmer weather, and I miss feeling financially, professionally, and emotionally secure.
But I am still glad we did it.
We don't know how this is going to work out for our family. We are knee deep in the job search and anticipate working hard in this regard until we know we have found the right fit. We talk about "big" things every day, not because we are deliberately trying to beat our heads against the wall but because its what is on our minds all the time. We each have moments of real doubt, of real weakness, of frustration and exhaustion at keeping our spirits high in the face of some new, very real challenges, but luckily, each of us experiences it at the moment the other feels strong and optimistic and can thus encourage the other.
This year has immersed us in uncertainty and hope and faith--and many, many moments when we look at the other and say (now all it really takes is a look), "This is hard"--but there are a few things that we know for sure at this point:
1. We made the right decision when Clay signed on with Klingenstein. As hard as this is sometimes, I have no doubt walking away from this opportunity would have been worse.
2. We are blessed beyond belief that we have Will. He is our greatest joy.
3. We must be each other's greatest supporter and teammate. We may not know much right now, but we have each other, and each other is A LOT.
4. We are doing the best we can.
5. The incredible support and understanding of our families and friends from afar has been a tremendous source of strength for us. To know that we are gone but not forgotten helps ease the sense of loss we sometimes feel.
6. I love my husband more than I did last year, which was more than I did the year before, which was more than I did the day I married him. I believe in him, I believe in us, and I am so frickin' proud of him for pursuing this degree, earning all A's (and one A+) last semester, and going after his dreams. Whatever school gets him next year is insanely lucky.
I don't say all of this to elicit a pity party for us. I had a pity party on the phone with my sister tonight, so I've got those covered (thanks for being there, B). I say all of this because I want to remember both the uplifting AND challenging times of this year. And because writing about it clears my head, puts it all in perspective, and reminds me of what is important.
In the grand scheme of things, we are beyond blessed--and we know it. I have been reading a book that hits me in the gut every time I open its pages: Two Kisses for Maddy. It's the story of
Matt Logelin, a man who welcomed his premature daughter into the world only to lose his wife to a sudden blood clot 27 hours later. It's a story of love and loss and one man's incredible devotion to his daughter, and I read it and I GET IT. And I thank God I have Clay by my side to figure out all of these new experiences and questions and decisions. His experience made him singularly focused: he was going to be the best darn dad to Maddy possible. And this experience of being without friends and money and a job and an authentic home in the city distills my priorities down to this: My job is to be my husband's best friend and my son's greatest cheerleader and protector. I don't care about seeing museums and great restaurants and shops in this city--I probably will never see most of them--but I do care about cultivating a loving home and family for Clay, Will, and Camden. Taking care of a toddler and a dog in NYC is often difficult (we were basically kicked out of a museum as soon as we got there yesterday because it wasn't a place where Will could run around and make noise--ah, we tried), but every day that Will smiles and laughs and is healthy feels like a success to me. Little victories, right?
Clay hurt his foot playing basketball the other day--once we can figure out how to navigate the Columbia health care system, he most likely will be in a boot for 6-8 weeks. In a winter when it might be icy, and when he will hopefully be interviewing and traveling, and when he will want exercise to help ease his stress, this initially felt like yet another challenge to add to our list. But he has been remarkably strong about it, so much so that what once seemed like an unfair injury (physically and emotionally) now seems like one more hurdle we can overcome. He has really inspired me this week.
I also received a tremendous surprise in the mail this week that will continue to encourage me up here. I know that returning to Chattanooga is most likely not in the cards for us, but for the rest of my life I will proudly declare GPS one of the very best schools in the country. Its faculty and students alike love others so sincerely, so consistently that I know my four years there were meant to show me how teach and learn with love. I am so proud to have worked there.
This year has clearly taught Clay and me about what makes a good school great, what makes a solid marriage strong, and what makes a close family even closer. My hope for 2012 is that I remember these larger life lessons in the midst of challenging moments, that I see every day as an opportunity to love others (especially my family), and that I remain open and excited about whatever God has in store for us next year.
Thanks for letting me get this off my chest.
P.S. I found
this blog post about parenting to be particularly honest and well-written.
1. Clay, Will, and I went to a GPS alumni cocktail party tonight at an uber-nice apartment on W. 81st. Clay had to leave to go tutor (because he is awesome and works hard for us) and Will was super adorable and charming all the ladies...until Mr. Tucker, the headmaster, introduced me. Will decided that was THE moment to run through the crowd of alums and a-l-m-o-s-t knock over a super fancy table and piece of art, all while everyone had just turned to look at me and thus notice how my son was treating this lovely woman's living room like, uh, ours, which actually IS his playroom. I have had many moments this year when I feel like I see or feel things so clearly, and this was one of them: I love GPS, but Will is my life. I opened my arms to him in front of all these women, scooped his smiling self up, and slipped out of the party and back onto the rainy streets of NYC.
