Kangatopia

Over the last weekend, Shep (mostly Shep) and I began the painful process of moving all of my and my children’s belongings to the new house. Painful because anytime you find yourself packing up all of your shit, loading it into a truck and hauling it from one place to another, it’s a physical hassle, but I had also pulled a muscle in my back from coughing continuously for the past month, and was waging war on a nasty sinus infection – in addition to recovering from the last migraine. Shep, in spite of injuries sustained from playing hockey and living in a tenuous situation with a hernia, is far less of a wimp (or is just very motivated to get us the hell out of his house) and worked without complaint.

By this past Monday evening, we were ready to spend our first night in the house. Before we went to bed that night, we discovered three things. The first is that the ice maker in the fridge doesn’t work. The second is that not having a steady supply of ice is okay because either the water pipes are rusted, or the municipal water supply is universally disgusting. (I’m of a firm belief that drinking water that has a strong metallic smell is not wise.) The third is that neither of the two bathtubs has a functioning drain. My first shower in the house was taken while standing almost knee deep in my own run-off.

The second night in the new house was spent without heat as the heater stopped working sometime between leaving the house that morning and returning that night. The second shower I took in the master bath resulted in a few gallons of water draining through a busted pipe into the downstairs. By the time I left for work that morning, I was mulling over my legal options for getting out of the lease.

Fortunately, now, the heater has been fixed and the drainage issue with the bathtub is being worked. Still, I’m dreaming of how much I dislike the house, and why I chose it. I am, however, going to try to maintain a positive attitude. After all, I am only obligated to the lease through next Halloween and the next ten and a half months will probably pass pretty quickly – as time does go by fast now. The water issue is worrying me, and I’m not sure what to do.

The house we’ve just left has it’s problems – most of which are cosmetic. However, the heat doesn’t really work downstairs, so in the winter it’s very cold in the living room and too warm in the bedrooms. I hear that this is a problem endemic to townhouses. Yet, I am going to miss that house. I am going to mourn losing what it represented. Lately, I’ve been in quite the funk over this, and finding it difficult to spit shine the bright side of the place we’re shaping into our new home. The only joy I’m getting from the holiday season is through the kids and the slightly loosened restrictions on spending what’s left of my tax return.

Oh. Woe. Is. Me.

I’ll try to keep from whining though I think it would be ridiculous to pretend that I am deliriously happy. This move is not just about making a bad choice in a new home. I’m also having reactions similar to what I’ve heard other people describe about their unhappy divorces – in that I am once again independent and alone. My future is my own, and it’s up to me to make something of it. I should feel stronger. Instead, I just feel sad. This is not a reflection of my relationship with Shep. It’s more about not being ready to leave the house we were in, but not really having a choice.

Last night I stopped at the new house to check on the heating situation before I picked up the kids. If the heat wasn’t working, then the kids were to stay with their grandpa. If it was repaired, then I intended to bring them home. While I waited for the house to heat up a little, I thought about how distracting tv and the internet can be. Right now, I have neither. The tv and the computer haven’t been moved yet, and since there is less than a year in the lease – I’m not sure I am going to hook up cable or internet access. I might get used to the house and decide to stay longer, or I might not. So, I was thinking about how it might be good for all of us to avoid them for a while and see if not having tv and internet will inspire me towards some creativity. At the moment, the only thing that inspires me at all is coffee.

As part of our Christmas advent calendar and nightly story ritual, I’m reading a story to the kids this month about a single mom who moves to a seaside town with her 9-year-old son. She is hoping to make a living from carving wooden objects and selling them locally. Her son isn’t taking it well, and spends an entire day watching tv instead of going outside or finding more productive ways to use his free time. So, the mom takes away the tv. That’s where we’ve left off, but this is giving me some ideas…