The Autumn Leaves

I have made great strides in organizing our stuff these past couple of weeks. I even threw some things away, most notably: my high-school prom corsage, my first pair of contact lenses that I'd dried out and saved in a tiny jewelry store gift box, and the hotel key from my 6th grade trip to Costa Rica. The few boxes that are left are all filled with "old papers" as our clever movers labeled them, and are stuffed into a tiny, odd room where I keep, among other papery things, scrapbook albums frozen in mid-completion, waiting for the day I will have spare time again. Ha.. HA... HA! But seriously, we have six guests (so far) staying with us for the Thanksgiving holiday and others who are toying with the idea of a D.C.-area vacation so we are very excited to be set up to receive them! I've been practicing my cookie recipes. My chocolate chip cookies are incomprehensibly delicious. I keep eating them, thinking, "They can't be that good." But they are. But they can't be. I must eat another to prove it...

Our schedule has not quite hit the level of absurdity that we maintained last year. Noemie and Gigi did start ballet, which Noemie does *not* enjoy. And last week we joined an amazing homeschool co-op where once a week the kids can take art and P.E., and participate in a handbell choir. We have finally settled into a sweet, tiny church with AWANAs, and nursing home visitation trips, and apple-picking excursions, and crock pot fellowships, and all that other tiny-southern-church goodness. And of course there's homeschooling and scouts... I guess with four kids, busyness just sort of finds you.

I have a friend who occasionally comments, "Never a dull moment in the Espinosa house!" I can't imagine why. Maybe it's because, in addition to having unrealistic time management expectations, I am surrounded by characters such as Toby, who went into a rage, spitting death threats, when he realized that someone took his first and only ever loosed tooth and exchanged it for two measley bucks while he was sleeping. There's Noemie, who organized a sidewalk-cleaning club so that every afternoon, a pack of 7 year-old girls gather to sweep the fallen leaves off our walkways. Or Gigi who will interrupt my lesson on long division to tell me that she pooped a one-eyed alien snake and it was "so gross" that she flushed it. And she had to run down three flights of stairs to tell me that her butt was still dirty. The Espinosa house is fun, challenging, occasionally disastrous, but never dull.

One of our more disastrous days happened on Danny's first Sunday on the evening shift. I came home from the morning church service by myself and Danny went from there to the office. I had an hour and a half to fill out all the scout troop registration and medical paperwork, cook spaghetti, and make sure the kids ate it before we ran back out the door in uniforms for their respective scout meetings. I was just making it. It was down to the wire. One kid jumped in the car, second kid in, third child pinched the first as he jumped in. Ignoring the developing the conflict, I ran to the other side of the car to receive Gigi and strap her down into her car seat. But she delayed. I could see her in the doorway opposite me, the play-by-play in slow motion:

She twists. Her foot slips on something. 
Her feet are in the air and she is flying, tumbling out the door, 
head first. 

Her body landed in a crumpled heap between the car and the curb, which caught her jaw. In a pile of dog poo. At this point, Noemie who had scrambled over carpet and car seats to get to the back of the car, realized that there was also poo on the bottom of her new shoes and she started to have an anxiety attack. Noemie's emotional state was really on the lower rungs of priority as Gigi's jaw started to swell. Did I mention this was my new car? After dealing with this whole crisis, we were understandably late to scouts where I found out, rather on the spot, that I was co-leader for Noemie's group. No sooner did I shuffle through the door, carrying Gigi and wondering what I smelled like, was I asked to introduce myself and tell the girls a little bit about myself. 

After scouts we went home to relax a bit before the evening church service. The kids wanted to play in the alley with their friends so I let them go. They would run by every ten minutes or so, yelling something about refugees. Twenty minutes before it was time to leave for church I went downstairs to receive the kids. Never one to be idle, I started practicing the piano at the foot of the stairs where I could look out through the storm doors on both sides of the house, intending to grab them as they ran by. Ten minutes left. Five minutes... Two minutes! We now had two minutes to be out the door! But as I looked into our private back patio, separated from the alley by our garage, I saw four small, round Asian faces staring at me through the house window. Ploop! Two more faces appeared through the storm door. Eventually my kids showed up, the Asian "refugees" were dismissed, our abandoned bicycles and scooters were retrieved, and we were off to church twenty minutes late. As we got on the highway, I was as angry as could be, (at everyone including myself,) and Gigi pointed out that she didn't have any shoes on her feet. I walked into church in that old, familiar way- frazzled, frustrated, and very late. Sprawled across a pew, all four of the kids were asleep about 10 minutes later.

North Virginia, with its cool weather and color changing leaves, gears up for autumn in a way I never saw in Florida. Besides the scores of pumpkin farm festivals with their homemade cider, preserves, donuts, and hayrides; besides the apple-picking orchards and local farm tours; there is a Halloween (or "harvest") party in nearly every church, school, and neighborhood. Even Noemie's ballet class. Kids run around in costume most of the month. We were told to prepare for hundreds of visitors tomorrow night, which is Halloween. The fall weather is also great for scouting! Noemie is in her third year with American Heritage Girls, a faith-based Girl Scouts alternative. Dominic and Tovi had the opportunity this year to join TrailLife USA, a group that splintered off of Boy Scouts when the BSA chose that they would no longer submit to Biblical authority on matters of governance. Earlier this month, the boys went camping with their new troop. It was Dominic and Tovi's first time camping! They went hiking, learned to tie knots, shot rockets, and made s'mores. But the highlight of the trip was in the impromptu beheading of a venomous copperhead snake. The head was immediately disposed of in the campfire. The next day, a science lesson was made out of studying the markings of the decapitated snake, then respectfully dissecting it. The heart was still beating! The camping trip was such a great experience that Danny, who has only been camping three times in his life, got encouraged to attempt a family camping trip. And that was how we celebrated Dominic's birthday: one night in a tent at Lake Burke Park. Being a Tuesday, we had the campsite to ourselves. I was nervous, I admit, but it turned out to be really pleasant! 

So far, our time in Virginia has been marked by sweet surprises. Perhaps we will feel different when the mercury drops, but for now we are thankful for our many friends and family that have been praying us through the transition. With bidding underway, we know there are more adventures to come. We look forward to hearing soon where we will go next! 

Settlers of Chantilly!

We are officially settled! Our transition period lasted about a full two months between our South Florida pack-out, our temporary quarters provision, and our move into a townhome in South Riding, Virginia. Our household effects arrived as scheduled, and only slightly bruised. We lost an ice-cream dish and several glass panes from frames. Our garden bench got a crack in the seat and the wagon, a few new dents. But we have a lot of stuff- including a library of over 800 books, a sleeper sofa that weighs about 1,000,000 pounds, a king-sized mattress, and a piano. And we moved into a three-story townhome, in the summer. The movers weren't exactly jumping for joy to be serving us. And thankfully, they didn't slam the boxes around in exhausted frustration. At least, not while we were looking.

My parents were able to come up for the move, and even my brother and sister-in-law came into town for the long weekend. The kids were especially appreciative. (Danny had to work that week so it was just me and my parents pulling that weight.) Sometimes you just need a good pillow-fight to work out the tension that comes with trying to evade over-worked grown-ups, and Tio Gio is always game. By the end of the week, our bed was built, the kitchen boxes were unpacked, and we had soap and towels-- the basics were in place. When my parents left, we dove into our first week of homeschooling. No internet, no computer, no TV, no friends, no church, no car... Things were a little rough. But eventually Danny was able to begin setting up the electronics, buying a car, buying a TV, and things continue to fall into place. 

When we were looking for a place to live, we were concerned about commute, square footage, bright interiors, and to avoid carpeting. When we found this interior row-house unit with carpeting on every floor but the first, an hour from DC, at the top of our price range, I was worried that we were compromising too many things. But this place has turned out to be a dream come true. The house has an incredible kitchen...how did I not notice it before? Vast counter spaces, a gas range, and all new appliances! We don't lose any square footage to the garage because it's detached (I hadn't thought about that perk) and best of all, the community here is incredibly friendly and lively! Our immediate neighbors are quiet, middle aged people who think my kids are cute. They might be the only people on the block without kids. We are a block away from an elementary school (how did I miss that?!) and there are kids everywhere. All the townhomes on our street are connected by an alleyway that, from the time school gets out till the early evening is full of kids on bikes, on scooters, drawing with sidewalk chalk, and playing tag while the parents hang out. The school's track and field are open to the community and they are packed every evening and on Saturdays. Families everywhere. It's a beautiful thing.

Tovi wants you to pay particular attention to his missing tooth in this photo. (It's his first).

The school's proximity in particular, has been an unexpected blessing. For a few weeks, frustrated with my slowing metabolism and the damage done by eating Cheesecake Factory for a month and getting almost no mobility in our hotel rooms, I decided I was going to start running again. I laced up my running shoes and hit the school running track, patting myself on the back for huffing and puffing through a whole mile. The kids, meanwhile, played on the adjacent playground. After a week or two, I timed myself and found that I was running the mile in eight minutes! There was no way that was right! Apparently, four laps was not a mile. I gave it another go at six laps but after three days of that I decided that it's too hard, I'm too old, and really I just hate running. My tendons hurt, I probably won't be able to keep it up when we go overseas, or when the temperature dips below 70... And after all that effort, my jeans are still too tight? I'll just go back to doing standing tree poses while I brush my teeth. 

The kids are taking everything in stride. Gigi has a little stuffed dog she calls Poochie that she carries around in a small Poochie-sized tote. During a brief moment while I was out of sight yesterday, Gigi removed Poochie from her tote, snuck into the pantry, and filled the tote with all the candy and snacks she could find. As I passed her walking nonchalantly up the stairs, I was struck with that instinct that mothers have- the instinct that this child of mine was up to no good. The theft was thwarted. But I am not always so lucky. A few hours after the snack smuggling incident, I came across one of my favorite family photos, defaced! She has a new secret nickname: the criminal element. But that's not really fair, is it? She certainly didn't mean to break my nose when she head-butted me in the face last week. And she could never understand the impact it would have on her slightly obsessive-compulsive mother when she dumped all her seasonally-organized clothes into one pile in the middle of her closet, or when she gathered all the sets of flashcards to make one glorious flashcard-snow storm in the master bedroom. 

Gigi certainly feels at home. Noemie has had a harder time. When we first moved in, Noemie tried to make friends with a neighbor but the other girl just walked off, probably feeling shy herself. (It didn't help that Noemie was practically hiding behind me.) With her new glasses, Noemie had decided she wanted to play the part of the shy wallflower. Then she assumed that the reason she had no friends was because her glasses made people think she was weird. Then two wonderful things coincided- one, we had a long conversation explaining that she was acting weird and choosing to be shy, and two- some outgoing, bubbly girls saw Noemie playing outside that afternoon and drew her into the gang of girls that runs around the block. This evening they sat on the front porch playing Monopoly while I made dinner.

 And with church and friends now also off the checklist, the rest of us are catching up too. South Florida will always be home, but north Virginia may not be so bad after all!

Discovery Trail

This summer, Fairfax County held a promotional scavenger hunt of sorts to encourage residents to get out and enjoy their parks. Participants were given a pamphlet with a map, some information on the participating parks, and a bingo style grid with the parks' names in the squares. The object of the game was to fill in the grid with stickers. Each park had a particular sticker, and contestants had to go to eight of the twelve parks in order to get the stickers. Of course they did this in the summer because it was over 100 degrees and the only way to get a bunch of air-conditioned city mamas outdoors was to offer an "amusement package" and free bicycle for the grand prize winner.

Neither Gigi nor Noemie have bikes so with 4 weeks left of the promotion, we jumped right in at full speed. It has turned out to be a huge blessing, and a much needed respite from our frequent trips to the bank and post office, and it also helped us to scout places to take friends and family when they visit. So far we have visited 6 parks: Colvin Mill, Huntley Meadows, Hidden Oaks, Riverbend, Green Spring Gardens, and Frying Pan Farm.

So far no one has come home with any ticks or poison ivy. I only lost one child but he was eventually found. The only significant frustration has been that I have had to do all my hiking in flip-flops. Somehow, and it really was an accident, I ended up here with three pairs of flip flops and zero tennis shoes. Nothing like treading farm dust in flip flops to make you want to sterilize your feet.

Focusing on the hunt has allowed us to take our mind off of the fact that we are still living in a hotel. Seven weeks.... Dominic says, "When you think about time, it goes slow. But when you don't think about it, it zips by like a proton torpedo." So we're trying not to think about it.

Instead, we are thinking about parks. And our van. Which is dying.

We came up here knowing that we needed to buy Danny a commuter car. But apparently our drive to Riverbend Park last Saturday was the last straw for our Hyundai Entourage. While idling at the grocery store on the way back into town, the car began overheating. Now, anytime we get stuck in traffic, we watch the temperature rise and rise and rise... we could hear the radiator bubbling on our way home from errands this afternoon. Danny was turning off the car anytime traffic stopped for more than 30 seconds. It was pretty tense, my eyes darting from traffic to temperature gauge.... to dashboard clock... because, as if our car predicament wasn't enough, we were also pressed to be home within half an hour so Danny could get 3 hours of sleep before he went in for the midnight shift. If our car were to explode (as Tovi and I believed was entirely possible) then we, if we survived the explosion, would have to wait for a tow truck to come and Danny wouldn't get to sleep before work and then, I am convinced, he was going to die of sleep deprivation. So as you can see, there was a lot of life-or-death stress happening for me this afternoon. And I am still not recovered.

But Gigi was never phased. Because she is never phased. She will be in mid-air of a scary fall shouting, "I'm ok!" She may have one of those falls soon as she is at this moment jumping on the bed in her underwear singing, "I am Aly Raisman. Aly Raisman doesn't like spankings." 

We finally got a townhome out in South Riding. My parents are flying up this weekend and, Lord willing, our household effects arrive on Monday. As for the cars, we are praying that God provides something awesome. Specifically, two somethings awesome, really really soon. 

Finding a home

On the drive home from a restaurant tonight, Danny was giving the kids bedtime instructions for our return back home, when his words sort of struck me .... "When we get back to the hotel...."

We are living in a hotel. I had forgotten my reality, that we are in fact on our 5th week of living in hotels. This is a rather unusual hotel because a significant number of the guests work in the same department as Danny. Most people here have just come back from living in a foreign country and are staying here for several months while they prepare for the next assignment. The kids here are different. They speak several languages; they climb trees and wander unsupervised, walking around with their heads held high, opening doors for others like tiny little diplomats. On the playground, they act out intense battles with nerf crossbows, sometimes dressed as obscure Star Wars characters. Nobody comments, as if that were common playground attire. On the tennis court their game morphs fluidly into one involving scooters, balls, and walkie-talkies. Most of these self-confident kids don't live anyplace long enough to waste time trying to figure out what is cool or who is in the in-crowd. They live in the moment, personalities without the filters of self-consciousness, and any kid who jumps into their imaginary scenario is carried right along into the action. I feel like I am surrounded by Dominics.

Kids aren't the only unusual thing around here- Danny called me into the living room a few nights ago, alarmed that he had caught a creature that looked like something out of Lord of the Rings. He seemed genuinely concerned that this creature was not earthly. It was in fact, a centipede. Centipedes aside, things are better than I expected. Our kids are getting older and that makes life easier even if it makes me sad. People are less likely to stare at me with four kids trailing behind me than the four babies that I brought the first time we came to live near D.C. Danny leaves for work by 5 am to take the first metro into town. He's in bed before 10 every evening. But he's home by 3 in the afternoons and the kids love that. That's an extra three hours of Papi per day! We miss our familiar routines though. Gigi peeing the bed is an ordeal that includes calling in room service. A lack of routine means more chances for mishaps. Gigi took advantage of my distraction the last time the maintenance man came and hid my phone in the pantry. I was in the middle of a text conversation with my friend so I was anxious to find it. In the meanwhile, Dominic was yelling, "How do you spell 'equatorial?'" over Noemie complaining that Dominic took her pen, over Gigi whining that she wanted a snack... So thankful for these soundproof walls. Thankful for the new carpet too. It looks like bean sprouts, which reminds me of my friend Heather. I miss my friends. Not in the home-sick, blubbery, crawl-up-in-a-couch-and-eat-nothing-but-icecream-for-days kind of way, but sometimes I get close.

I've been reading a really great book on education lately, the kind that crosses your mind when you watch the Libertarian political debate or when you brush your teeth. It's a paradigm shifter. I would recommend it to everyone, especially educators (which most of us are in some capacity, I think). 

Noemie is now singing the Star Wars theme song to block out Dominic's voice who is arguing that she doesn't respect him. The book is "A Thomas Jefferson Education" which obviously, my children lack. 

We spent our first two weeks here house hunting. Day 1 of house hunting was a bit discouraging. We were in Burke, about 17 miles from Danny's office, where homes in our budget average 1500 sq ft, are built in 1980s and generally carpet top to bottom with few updates to kitchen and lighting. The next day we focused on Ashburn, about 25 miles from Danny's office, an area developed within the last 10-15 years. By our third day of searching, we had dragged our poor, pregnant real estate agent up and down through countless flights of stairs at over 20 tri-level properties. She didn't seem the worse for wear but I was starting to hate my own indecision and pickiness so I picked the loveliest of the bunch, signed off all the paperwork and submitted the application fee, then went home and had an anxiety attack. We waited out the week and gladly surrendered our claim when the owner tried to negotiate an earlier move-in date. I had not trusted in the Lord to find the perfect place and I had settled too soon.

The next week our agent went on vacation. Maybe my fault. So we got a substitute agent and went out again. Too dark...too much carpet...no outdoor space... One occupied home had an Indian family staring silently at us as we walked through- the entire middle level smelled like curry, and the bottom floor had a room full of utility shelving overflowing with shoes (that smelled like fish), and a very large, glowing Hindu shrine. A friend of mine tried to comfort me saying, "You'll only be there for a year!" But then what? Maybe it's Bangladesh! Maybe it's... more D.C.! We found a place yesterday that seemed perfect. We are still waiting to hear if we got it. Ultimately I know God is in control.

These are more of my friends and I miss them. But I'm not crying.

I also miss having pedicured feet. Not...crying....

Driving through some greatness

The Daily Show recently had a man-on-the-street interview segment where they questioned Trump's campaign slogan, "Making America Great Again." I came across the segment on a facebook post and instantly I was struck by the accusation inherent the question, "When was America Great?" Even though its intention was to lightly poke fun at conservatives, the underlying message was that America had never been great because it had never been perfect. The interviewers try to trap people in what they perceive to be a blind patriotism by pointing out the flaws in U.S. history such as voting rights inequality, the Indian Removal Act, or slavery. The interview subjects are never given a chance to consider and articulate a response. But there should be a response. The argument is flawed- America has been great. Exceptional, even. America was unique in its founding, unique in that its country's government was, from its inception, submitted to God's authority. Our founding documents, our motto, our monuments attest to this. What a radical thought! It declared that men had rights because God endowed them. Benjamin Rush, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence wrote that "the universal education of our youth in the principles of Christianity by the means of the Bible" was the only means of establishing and maintaining a republican government... "For this Divine Book, above all others, favors that equality among mankind, that respect for just laws, and those sober and frugal virtues, which constitute the soul of republicanism." The authority of the Bible and the Judeo-Christian God governed the government itself. Was it perfect? Even such a nation could only be as perfect as its people. So our nation has never been perfect. I would however say that insomuch as our leaders have sought the Lord, it has been great. And clearly, it has been blessed.

We're in DC now so I am surrounded by the history of our country and the volatility of the times in which we now live. I prefer the history. (I am sure that the times have always seemed volatile to the people living in them.) We arrived here "at post" on Friday after taking five days to make the 16 hour drive. Our first stop was at Hutchinson island where we were battered by rough waves. It would be our last taste of sea water for a long time. Nico was pulling himself up to a standing position on my old boogie board the way my brother Gio once did. 

For our second stop, St Augustine, we stayed at an ocean front cottage. The kids went down to the water's edge in the moonlight with their pants rolled up and then again in the morning before we went out exploring. 

 In the historic area, we took a short tour of the "oldest school house" and admired the Castillo de San Marcos from afar. The heat was pretty intense.

We decided to cool down in Ripley's Believe it Or Not Museum- a regretful tour of grotesque nightmares with human freaks, instruments of torture, and novelties of demonic origin from native peoples around the world including masks made from human skin, pygmy heads, and body mutilations of various kinds. 

There were some more enjoyable exhibits towards the end but the damage had been done. 

That night we had dinner with a friend in Summerville on our way into historic Charleston. It was no wonder after our museum experience that this old hotel, with 18th century furnishings and creaky floors, felt haunted. Our morning excursion to Fort Sumter was more successful, having made it onto the first boat out, which gave Noemie the chance to participate in the flag raising. 

After sticking our heads in a few canons we made our way to Raleigh where one of my best friends, Meredith, awaited us with dinner on the stovetop. We stayed with her and her family till Friday morning.

Our drive time to our new hotel from Raleigh was double what we expected with traffic and Gigi got motion sickness from coloring her Hello Kitty pages. She threw up on her blanket. I developed a migraine. But it was the only bad stretch of a very, very long road trip. For weeks I have been encouraging my friends, nay imploring them, to visit us while we are in DC but I don't know that I wish that drive on anyone. Our air baggage arrived, miraculously maybe, the day after we checked into our new hotel. We expect to be here until we find "permanent" housing, which should take about a month or so. Towards the end of September we will be receiving the list of potential posts for our reassignment one year from now. Volatility everywhere.

I don't know what I am going to do tomorrow (though I will probably bust out some P90X yoga in the evening) or the next day (skype my parents?) or the next day after that (... more yoga?!) and indeed that is one of the most frustrating things about our time here. Danny starts work tomorrow while the rest of us are left behind to make new friends, new routines, new networks, new adventures. But it's hard to make up new adventures when you don't have the networks to relieve you or encourage you if you find yourself in distress or in failure. And you can't make the networks without the new routines where you run across the new friends... So maybe my first order of business tomorrow is to make some friends?

Miami wrap up

...And the blog went blank. What happened? Life happened. One minute I am traipsing along the Seine. Next thing I know, I'm in Miami, planes are getting shot down over Ukraine, Israel tosses a few bombs into the Gaza Strip, and Danny is given three hours notice to be on a plane bound for Qatar with no return date. What?

And then our household effects arrive from storage. While new tile is being laid. And my parents are in Europe...

Wait, what?!

And that pretty much summarizes the past 2 years. Danny goes to London, Geneva, Berlin, Seoul, Munich, Phnom Penh, Jerusalem, Riyadh, Toronto, Doha, Vienna...  And I hang back and field disasters. Gigi made it "snow" in the pantry with cornstarch, Toby stuck his hand in the paper shredder, Gigi literally fell off the wagon and passed out, Noemie threw up, Gigi ate gum she found stuck in a stairwell carpet at church, Dominic lost another library book, Giannina is tearing all the leaves off the baby papaya plant, Giannina pried open a can of latex house paint, Giannina is climbing the pantry shelves, needs a crown on her tooth, is smashing Hot Wheels cars into bananas, is rubbing lipgloss on Noemie's feet while Noemie sleeps, Giannina, Giannina, Giannina.

One time Gia went missing as church was starting. I circled the church, dipping in and out of every classroom. No one had seen her. I was standing in the foyer in desperation when I caught sight of the live-video feed of the service. There was Brother Malcolm leading the congregational singing, and behind him, dashing around on stage looking a little disoriented, was Giannina, cheeks bulging with peppermint candies stolen from the choir room.

One day, as I was making rounds from the car to the house with grocery bags, Gia found an unattended marker and ran it along the dining room wall. She wound her way around the corner. Then she colored along the tile grout to the bookcase. I caught up to her when she was filling in the black and white drawings of Dominic's precious Calvin and Hobbes. It only took her one minute. As I was furiously scrubbing the walls, I came across a puddle. Giannina had pulled a chair into the pantry and helped herself to a juice box and left a trail behind her. I didn't realize how extensive the trail was for a couple hours as I continued to step in sticky spots in the living room and into my bedroom. The sticky spots were now tinted blue by spray paint stuck to the bottom of my feet from one of my many art projects in progress. I suppose I should have expected this sort of behavior from the one whose first complete sentence was, "I pee-pee Mami's bed." 

Imagine. Here we are now, two years later. Danny is out of town yet again, and I am trying to prepare the house for real estate showings. Toby and Dominic, seemingly unaware of my plight, are searching for "weapons." There are swiffer wands, curtain rods, egg beaters, and chair legs being amassed in the kitchen, their new "gladiator arena".  Noemie is sneaking around the house hunting for paper and scissors, making birthday cards for everyone who comes to mind, and leaving piles of paper shavings in her secret hideouts. Like a termite. And then there's Giannina, the baby-monster. Except she's not a baby anymore. She's four. And she's up on the kitchen counter coating her legs in dish soap and salt.

How do I mark the days? By Danny's travels? By disasters left in the wake of his departures? By homeschooling adventures?

In the past two years I had corrective eye surgery. Twice. And I caught a raccoon in a trap. I learned to read syncopated rhythm in music, and I started dabbling in essential oils. I chauffeured kids to park group, swim team, library, dance class, and American Heritage Girls. And that was just on Thursdays. I tutored 5 year olds for Classical Conversations, sang in the choir, wrote the Kids Ministry's Christmas musical. I didn't sleep. At midnight you would often find me mopping. At 1 am I might be painting baseboards. When Danny signed up to be soccer coach and then was whisked away on a trip, I was there on the first soccer game of the season with the coach's bag and a sense of loss. Danny took me to Milan, my brother got married in Tampa, and my parents celebrated 35 years of marriage by treating us all to a Caribbean cruise.  Dominic and Noemie learned to sail, Toby learned to read, and Giannina memorized the classification of living things. And I was always tired. Always. 

Our Miami Field Office tour is coming to a close. Giannina is still alive. And my house is beautiful. It is one of the most painful things about leaving: the style, the colors, the hominess... expressions of myself and of our family. The new AC, new floors, the map mural in the office, the kids heights marked on the wall... records of the trials and growth we have experienced here. Watching ibis and herons and butterflies from the breakfast table, all-you-can-eat starfruit, kale, and papaya in the backyard...we are leaving this tropical paradise for the physical and social cold of North Virginia. It hurts the heart.

The first day we put the house on the market, we had 4 visitors. Three of those offered contacts, all of them at or above asking price. All that early morning garden watering and late night curtain-sewing has come to fruition. People love my house and they want to buy it. 

Time to start over.