Home is where your heart is?

I'm going a little stir crazy over here.  We're on day two of snow days and we are all getting on each other's nerves, I think.  I'm crabby today.  Tired more than anything. And it's cold in here.  The heat system in this place just can not keep up with these subzero temps and the carpet is cold.  I have two pairs of socks on and my feet are still cold.

Let that be another reason why I am so ready to get out of this place.

We drive by our new apartment all the time.  Surprisingly, I am so excited about moving.  I just can't wait.  It's like Christmas all over again....only better.  Cause I'm getting a new home and a new neighborhood AND we're going to save some money.  Not a lot, but some.

I guess that I am most excited about the saving money thing.

Our finance guy assigned us the task of writing down every cent we spend for 30 days.  Let me tell ya, that is exhausting.  Totally makes me not want to spend cause I don't want to mess with remembering and writing it down.  So that being said, since January 26, we have had 18 transactions.  Hmmmm, that doesn't sound so good.

I haven't splurged at all...until today.  I treated myself to a Coke Zero at McDonald's drive thru.  And wouldn't you know it, I got the crap soda.  It was awful.  Too much syrup or not enough carbonation...I dunno but it was awful.  God was telling me that I shouldn't have spent the $1.08.  Oh well.  I learned.

We decided on a storage unit today to hold all of our useless stuff that we can't part with, yet won't remember we own in a year when we go back for it.  It is going to cost us $46 a month.  So that isn't too bad, really.  The apartment is half the size of the townhouse and there is zero storage there, so we didn't have much choice.  I mean, I'm selling stuff as fast as I can but when no one wants to buy the crap that I'm selling....I am not to successful.  I have sold $245 in the last week or so, so that's not too shabby.  I just need to sell more.

Speaking of the apartment being half the size of our townhouse, I am so excited to move into a manageable sized home.  It's simple, small and perfect for what we NEED.  This place has three bathrooms.  I don't have the time (or the desire) to keep up with three bathrooms.  We are living for what we need.  This place will be so much more my style and not so overwhelming--as this place has been.  And I found out that we can paint!  yippee!  Hopefully the Mr. will let me.  That will make it so much homier for me.

This weekend (I'm so messed up on my days of the week this week, I've thought today was Saturday all day long) is my appointment with Dr. Laura and I am so happy.  Our off weeks just seem so long. 

In our last session, she asked me a question, that at the time seemed to be nothing of a big deal. 

Until I answered.  The answer came so easily.  It just flowed off of my tongue.  So effortlessly.  Almost with no thinking involved at all. 

And the fact that it came about so easily and effortlessly, has had me struggling to grasp the big question of WHY.

She asked me, "Where do you consider home?"

Easy enough.

Right?

That's simple.

Everyone knows "home."

Right?

Right?

I answered: Joliet.

Where I lived with the butthead (if you're a reader, you know the butthead reference).

Why do I consider that home?  I lived there for six years.  SIX YEARS!

I'm 32, people.

There are a lot of years where I've lived in a lot of other places.  So why does my effortless answer place me right back to where it all fell apart?

Why isn't "home" where I grew up, or where my mom lives now?  Why isn't "home" where my husband and daughter are?

What is wrong with me?

I just feel such guilt.  I shouldn't have said Joliet.  I shouldn't have felt Joliet. 

But I did.

There is such a history there for me.  I (well, him and I, but buttheads don't count) built my first home there.  A beautiful home.  I did the whole yard, my design, my plants, my patio, my bird feeders, my garden flag.  I loved my yard.  I decorated each room in that house.  Down to the very last detail...I decorated.  I loved my neighbors.  I loved my life.  I loved my dog.  Everything was in place. 

And then, it fell apart.  Life was ripped away.  And I think that the wounds didn't heal as evenly as I tell myself that they did.

I feel like I'm wrong for going through my old pictures.  Like it somehow means that I'm cheating or not being faithful to my life today.  But it was/is such a huge part of me.  I shoved it all away when we signed the papers.  I just closed it and never healed.  Never processed.  Never grieved.  Or didn't grieve enough to heal.  So I'm telling myself this:  it's okay to look back.  It's okay to cry over the loss.  It's okay to miss parts of my past.  It's NATURAL to miss parts of your past.

I think that more than anything, this represents the fact that I have so much more to work through than I initially thought.  What I initially sought Dr. Laura to help me with...isn't the place to start....but maybe a place to work towards.

Saturday can't come soon enough.