Goodbye Fayetteville

It was a new city and I was a new stay-at-home mom. My husband had taken a high-profile job overseeing the construction of a major bridge in Military Town, USA. As soon as he was hired he moved immediately to the new city, leaving me and my two boys (Camden, 2 and Cavan, 6 months) home in our safe and comfortable community in a prestigious suberb of South Charlotte. It was Christmas season 2008, and we agreed that after I made the usual holiday rounds I would join him in Fayetteville.

The last couple of nights in our first house were very, very sad. After I put the boys to bed, and the quiet sat in (finally), I looked around and remembered the first time I ran into the family room screaming, "I love it, I love it, I'm home." The realtor grinned and Ryan pulled me by the elbow and whispered that we came to "negotiate." This was our first house. This is where I (stupidly) slid down the bannister of a very steep staircase, crashed into the post (that I forgot was there) and fell into the floor. This is where we had romantic dinners for two. This is also where I brought home our first-born son, and then, our second. This is where Camden took his first steps. This is where our boys were supposed to spend their childhood. [i]They[/i] were supposed to slide down that bannister (without serious injury, of course). As I looked around the now empty 2200 square feet, I realized that my dream home would soon again be just a dream.

We made it through the usual holiday mayhem, and I think I saw my husband at Christmas. He was extremely busy learning the ropes of a new job and working long hours to justify his salary. When he joined the team, the bridge was already behind schedule, and he was pressured to make up for lost time. We spent New Year's Eve in a hotel, and the next morning we met the movers at what would be our home for the next 6-9 months.

Because our house in Charlotte was still on the market, and because I had to leave my teaching job behind, we rented a modest home so we could afford both payments. I watched as the men unloaded our furniture piece-by-piece and wondered where we would put everything. "How have we accumulated so much?" I thought, and "Where is it all going to go?" Of course! The garage! You should see me carrying a basket of laundry on top of my head while slinking around the prized mustang as not to scratch it. Yes, the washer and dryer connection are in the GARAGE! This was it. This was our new home.

The house was smaller, yes, but I had everything to be thankful for. With the economy in recession, we were lucky that one of us had a well-paying job, and I was blessed to be able to stay at home with my baby boys. I had worked two jobs in Charlotte, and my oldest son saw as much of his daycare as he did home. This was was all going to change, and my only job now would be keeping house and keeping babies. I have never worked so hard in my life. The past seven months have been the most challenging, and yet the most rewarding. I have a new profound respect for stay-at-home moms and hope that one day I can be worthy of joining their ranks. I think I'm still in training. Seven months have come and gone so quickly. The bridge is now open for traffic and commuters can go about as usual. We on the other hand, are preparing for our next move. When I look around this little house and the living room where I spent many mornings watching my boys dance, a sadness overcomes me again, This is the house where my youngest son Cavan took his first steps. and it soon will be a memory.