shake shake shake

I feel a little bit like someone has taken the box that holds my life, turned it upside down, and started shaking. Pieces are falling out everywhere and I'm holding on by elbows and toes, grabbing things are they fall past me, trying to make sure I don't miss anything important. Our old house is in boxes and semi-moved out, our new house is about a month away from being finished, and we are going to try to live in a state of limbo for this time period with everything packed away somewhere. Still not sure how this is going to all work out...but it will.

We are also transitioning at camp this week, and are in the process of moving our offices from the camp back to our city office. I pack on my days off and then pack while I'm at work. If you ever need help moving, I've got tons of experience. Um...but no will power. On second thought, don't ask me.

I haven't seen much evidence of all this craziness affecting Tyler until today - where I took some of his less used toys and put them in a box and he proceeded to panic. Like..."what? wait. give me that. i've played with that before! i love this one. um, and also that one. you can't take this! or that! ahhhh!"

After we survived that box, he decided to join ranks and pack a whole box full of our shoes. And then throw the rest of his remaining toys down the stairs to the basement. Yes...I suspect he is processing in his own little way. He remains a trooper though and now just plays hide and seek around boxes and mess, and helpfully puts little bits of paper and tupperware lids in the garbage for me. (We are still working on what is and is NOT garbage...)

Everything is good right now...just...unsettled. I can't wait until October (Lord willing) when we can move into our beautiful new home and re-settle. It's been a long 6 months of building, attempting to sell, work, and now moving. I'm exhausted.

Sentimental

We're moving out of our house in 9 days and it certainly has me feeling a bit sentimental! This was our first (owned) house. We laughed in that kitchen with friends over games and cups of coffee late into the night. We sat in this living room and talked for hours after we found out we were pregnant. We sat on that deck and watched lighting storms and marveled at God's power and beauty. We brought Tyler home to that nursery and rocked him to sleep many nights. We wore pathways through this hallway while trying to ease his pain after surgery. We watched our growing boy throw those rocks that line the driveway outside. That's the floor that Tyler learned to walk on, and that's the window that he sits patiently by to see the first glimpse of daddy coming home after work.

We lived in a house after we were married while we went to school, spent a year working and living in a city apartment and learned much about life, love, and marriage...but this house is different than the others. We brought our son home to this place. What a wonderful place to start a family.

Looking forward to new memories.

Ankles, hips, knees, thighs

...all hurt. BUT. I have started running! I didn't want to write about it until I had actually committed for more than a few runs because my track record with starting things like this is terrible, but I feel like it's time to fess up. Oh, how I am loving to run!

It started this summer when I heard about a fundraising run for the children's hospital which is scheduled to be built here. We've definitely experienced the frustration of having to go to a whole different province to obtain proper child medical care and I feel very strongly about supporting the future children's hospital here. We moved out to camp shortly after I heard about this and so me and my friend who was also living out there decided to murder our bodies get up early and run the gravel road full of hills and dead snakes every other morning (or so...).

The first day I wanted to die. I did exactly what they tell you not to do on your first attempt at running: I ran until I couldn't run anymore. Which was about 1.5 min, but still. It was up a hill, ok? I couldn't recover and thought I would pass out. However I had purchased running shoes and promised the bold promise to my husband that it would NOT be a waste of money, so I dragged myself out of bed two days later and tried again. This time we brought along my sister in law who happens to be a personal trainer. She gave me a good routine to follow and I ended the run feeling fantastic (once I recovered from not being able to breathe, that is).

Yesterday I ran for almost 4k straight without stopping. I know it's not much, but it felt amazing. I am not really a physical activity kind of person. My body seems to be put together wrong for any sort of hard usage, so this is a bit of a push for me. Admittedly I have to ice my ankle every time I come back from a run and it takes a day or two to stop limping, but it's getting better and I feel so. good. It helps that every time I feel like giving up I remember what I'm training for.

I've heard from other people who run how addicting it can be but I didn't believe them until now. I mean, we'll see just how addicted I am when the snow falls and I don't feel like running on ice, but until then I will keep enjoying these beautiful post summer/pre fall evenings running in the evenings through the wonderful little paths in our town.