Not All Who Wander Are Lost
We’re on the move again.
Funny, this time, because we’ve moved so much that a lot of people didn’t believe us.
It might also have something to do with the fact that we thought when we moved into our current home (only in February 2020, it would be our 7-10 year home).
I didn’t deem it our “forever home” because committing to live in one town forever is kind of a big deal.
Now, we’re embarking on my 12th move in 17 years. And I’m going to move twice this year — first to a temporary place until our new construction home is built.
As a kid, we only made one move that I remember. I was in the seventh grade, and it was only one town over. It still meant that I had to attend a new school, though. That year in school was one of the most challenging of my life. Also, it's the only time I’ve ever been in a fight. That whole story is in my book.
Here I am about to release the book all about navigating and embracing change three years after starting down the path of a blank Google Doc one November for NaNoWriMo.
And the title, “Unfussy Life” — what better time to release a book than right after moving… again.
This move, like the others, transpired quickly and for good reason.
We moved from Illinois to New Jersey in 2019. We knew we needed a change. We were in our home for five years (which we thought would be the 10-year home). After some false starts looking into moving to NY or Boston, we put the notion aside.
Ryan had a job opportunity in NYC, and the exec team all lived across the river in New Jersey, so that’s where we landed. We rented at first to get a sense of the neighborhood and schools, and after enjoying the beach nearby, new hockey friends, and the kids making friends easily over sports and at school, we decided to buy.
We moved into our expanded ranch the day after celebrating our 16th wedding anniversary. The kids were in school for a few weeks, and then the world shut down in March.
As far as neighborhoods go, the one we landed in was the perfect place to be during Covid. Sure, we were excited about the open layout when we bought the place — yay, easy entertaining! And then womp womp...
I don’t know if we would have made it through the past year if we were in any other house.
We were on a cul de sac where most of the homes have kids the kids’ age. We were grateful the kids could be surrounded by other kids and enjoy plenty of time enjoying the fresh air with good company. From morning until sundown (sometimes later with campouts and backyard fires), they found home here.
In the fall, school was very different. Remote learning was stressful at first but worked just fine. I'm now accustomed to 18 billion interruptions during my workday. Even when they went back in person, it was a hybrid situation with no predictability in their schedule. One case and the school would close — both kids would be at home again. We decided it was easier for everyone to stay remote. Again, I’m grateful to have choices.
In the fall, Ryan changed jobs — to a company that worked completely remotely with a team across the globe. Now we were all home — all the time.
A few months in, we wondered, “Why do we live here now?” And had a spark of maybe we’ll move in the summer when school and the sports season are done. Ry tossed out some state ideas — New Hampshire, Texas, Tennessee, the Carolinas …. I mean, I love all those states, but we needed a reason to go there. The reason wasn’t strong enough. He later sent a list of states and told me to pick five. I noticed Florida was on that list, and I filed it away in my unconscious. I deleted the email and went on with my day.
“Well, at least we have sports,” we thought to ourselves until the governor shut down hockey for December.
It would be our first Christmas in our new home, but having been inside it more often than not since March, we itched to change our scenery and breathe fresh air.
Ryan’s mom lives in Florida, and with our remote jobs and the kids having two weeks off school, we decided to take our time and go on a 2-week road trip to Florida. Not wanting to mess around with flying or schedules, we decided it would be a fun adventure.
We made only a few plans — stop at a family member’s house In Virginia Beach (well, until I mixed up the dates and had to rearrange the rest of the trip). We booked a few days in Orlando — one day at Universal (my first time), and then celebrate Christmas at my mother-in-law’s on the Gulf side. Finish up with a fishing trip in Fort Myers and then work our way home through Savannah and back up the I-95.
Now, you know we’ve moved 16 times until now, so before we left, I warned Ry in my serious wife voice, “Don’t get any ideas. We aren’t using this trip to hunt for homes. We are NOT moving. We’re enjoying our vacation.”
“Fine.”
We got to Orlando a day earlier than we had planned because I messed up the dates with the Virginia Beach stop. By the end of day two, while sitting by the pool enjoying 75 warm and sunny degrees, I thought, “I could live here.”
I shared this idea with Ry and the kids, and their faces changed. They saw the possibility too.
Now, after promising the kids that we wouldn’t move anymore — they needed to be on board.
There was a little hesitation from the extroverted one, but after more than a week in Florida, being outside, near the water, fishing… in December, in flip-flops, and feeling the southern hospitality and friendliness, by the time we got to my mother-in-law's on Christmas eve we told her we were moving.
She didn’t flinch because I don’t think she believed us. As much as we DO move, we’ve also talked about moving twice as much — moves that didn’t work out for one reason or another...(still on the someday later list... Paris, Argentina, Tennessee...)
Fast forward to our 17-hour drive home when I felt that pit in my stomach — the pit of resistance to getting in the car and leaving with all of my being. I mean, the only thing I was excited about was returning home to my Casper bed, but beyond that, I knew it was time for a change because the thought of going back to New Jersey felt depleting.
In the car, we made a quick call to our realtor to explore the idea of selling our house. She went off to do a little research and got back to us a few days after the ball quietly dropped.
Since Covid, a lot (like a LOT) of people were fleeing the city for the spacious suburbs and our home being in a good neighborhood with good schools. Our realtor said it would definitely sell.
What happened next was a whirlwind, as it often is — two open houses with more people than I’ve ever seen. Friends, there was a line for two days down our driveway, and 80 groups of people came through our house. I had no idea it would be like this.
Offers came in quickly; we accepted one, and we were set to leave about 30 days later.
Buying a new construction home with our Florida realtors’ help and a Facetime call to show us the lot and the foundation.
Only one problem — that house isn’t ready until June, and we’re moving in March.
How does selling all our furniture to the buyers, leaving a bunch of items, and moving with just the stuff we use most sound?
Let’s do it! This isn’t our first rodeo.
Why not move to a 1,100-square-foot apartment with no furniture?
It has a pool, a gym, and a clubhouse (and 80-degree weather), sounds good!
Why not live with the 4 of us in a small space?
Looking back is easy because I keep a 1-line a day journal (this is the one I have). And By the time we had closed on the house this time last year, we were under contract to sell it less than a year later.
This is why I always use the language of possibility.
You’ll rarely hear me say “never” to any idea or adventure — because everything always changes.
We might wander. But we're anything but lost.
Here's to the wanderers.
PS - I snapped this selfie by the pool on December 22 with a knowing — I'll be back for good someday, probably soon.
Oh, vitamin D, how I've missed you.
