I wish there were an adult here to make this decision

I don’t know about you, but for the most part I often feel like an 18 year old masquerading as an adult.  Part of this may have to do with looking younger than I am and being treated as such, but another part is just an undercurrent of feeling under-qualified and out of place in certain contexts.  For example, when Mac began kindergarten, I remember walking through the school and feeling more like a student than a mom.  All of the other moms looked way more, I don’t know, official?  Meanwhile, I just felt like, “Ok, Mac is in kindergarten, I am a mom of a kindergartner, how do you do that?”  
As I wrote recently, we are house/flat hunting and we have a relocation agent to help with this.  Whenever we meet with her, I try to have all my ducks in a row and look put together because seriously, I didn’t even know they existed before we thought about moving, and it seems like such a fancy thing to have, for people that are adults and do things like ride around in cars with relocation agents.  To add a further layer of discomfort, Clare kind of needs us to be adults and have all of our ducks in a row, because we can’t just wander aimlessly around London looking at pretty houses (though that would be lovely!).  There needs to be focus and direction.  We need to know what we want and be decisive- a weak point for me.  
I am given to distraction, I can get lost in minute details or enamored with pretty things and lose focus.  And we’re in London!  So everything is new, unfamiliar and pretty.  If you asked me where I want to live in Seattle, that would be easy.  But here there is so much unfamiliar to consider- neighborhoods, schools, budgets, etc.   And then there are timelines, like we need to move out of our temporary housing by June 6th.  There is no time to be leisurely, we just need to decide.   
After 2 days of looking for a place to live, we re-assessed priorities which I thought I was very adult thing to do (Luke gets the credit for this one).  We focused and sent poor Clare scrambling to look for places with a different budget and different size.  
On Wednesday we went out to see properties that fit these priorities and at the end of the day, I still felt very conflicted and uncertain. 
We found two places that would work:
One is a flat in Richmond, very…hotel feeling and we would have to use the furniture there and get rid of almost everything we brought with us- not much, but things that are important to us.  It wouldn’t feel like home, it would feel transitional, but it would work.  
The other is a 2 bedroom attached house that feels way more like a home, but is pretty tiny.  If we put all the kids in one room, there would be about 2ft. of space between two sets of beds and about 4 extra feet for everything else.  The house is about 800 sq. ft., a big change from the 2,400 that we’re used to.
How do I decide between these two things?  How do I quantify the importance of an extra room vs. our home actually feeling like home?  Is it superficial and snobby to value how a place “feels?”  Is it silly to want some remnant of familiar things (furniture, books, etc). We are already living in LONDON, amazing and miraculous.  Maybe we should just get rid of everything for the 3rd bedroom.
But our family has just experienced a large degree of disruption.  We moved away from family, friends, schools, church.  We’ve been in travel limbo for 7 weeks and I desperately want to provide a familiar and comfortable environment for our family, to make a new home here.  We may have a 3rd bedroom, but it will feel like a continuation of limbo.  

And it is at this moment that I told Luke that I wished there were an adult here to make this decision for us.   Like an official adult who uses relocation agents and knows what they want and doesn’t have 20 different variables swimming in their brain each demanding to be the most important. We are adults and do many adult things.  Luke is a decisive adult which is helpful.  But we make decisions together and I believe my feelings and input are critical to making a good choice- it just takes me a lot longer to arrive at decisive.  
If you’ve ever had a baby, I’m sure you can relate.  In the hospital there are lots of sympathetic nurses and family to ease the transition from being responsible for yourself to responsibility for another human being.  There is a false sense of feeling capable.  Then your are home for the first day and your sweet baby who seems so fragile and perfect is screaming and inconsolable all night, and nothing you can think of will fix it.  You look around for the nurse, doctor or expert of some sort and realize that all your baby has is you and you don’t know what your doing and their life depends on you.  Terrifying.
This is not exactly the same, but there are 3 sweet kids to think of, who are depending on us to make good choices on behalf of our family.  This is terrifying too!

I connected with a few dear friends with my dilemma who encouraged me to trust my instincts.  My instincts prefer home over hotel, so I took the kids to Richmond on Thursday, measuring tape in hand.  We walked to all of the places that we would need to from the house I mentioned, and I measured the rooms to truly assess if we could fit our family in the house.  We also spent some time on the Thames in Richmond which was lovely (photos are in my next post).
Result: 3 kids in that small room just won’t work.

So it is May 4th, and we’ve decided to keep looking.  I don’t know if we’ve made the right choice, I still feel overwhelmed by the uncertainty of this, but we’re moving forward and trusting that God will provide the right place for our family. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s