The World According to Angela

On Saturday, the kids' school (well, actually it was the PTO - Parent Teacher Organization) sponsored a "Santa Holiday Craft Workshop."  It was where the kids could go and make Christmas gifts for people, rather than buy premade trinkets.  It started nice and early (8:30 am!) and we got everyone up and out the door....all 6 of us.

I was impressed with how many different items there were to choose from, and how well organized it was.  The kids had a blast making their crafts.  But what impressed me the most was how it all made me feel.  It was just so cute to me how my kids would spot a friend from school and start talking to them.  Or likewise they would be spotted by a classmate and approached.  Or even how I chatted with several moms I knew.  There was a photographer and we had a picture taken for the yearbook.  The principal was there joking around with the kids.  Santa was there too and the kids told him their wishlist.  They even got free juice, as well as an impressive Home Depot wood project complete with work apron (yes, free).  Haley was taking it all in and I told her that in a few years, this would be her school, too.

It doesn't really sound like much to you probably, but to me, it really was something.  We've lived in this neighborhood just over two years, and it's amazing how easily it's come to feel like home.  I already know so many great neighbors and so many of us have kids the same or very similar ages.  And just seeing the kids in their school with their friends and teachers, it just feels like we are a part of something so much bigger.  Connected to our community and to our neighborhood.  Like we are officially connected with the bigger force of society and the future of our world.  Or maybe it's the lingering wonder that we are *really* parents to such great kids.

That might sound somewhat cheesy, but let's face it...it's been a long journey to arrive at this point.  We are not living in the town we grew up in with family and neighbors we've known for decades.  We've started anew in this part of the 'burbs 11 years ago fresh out of college with barely a penny to our names.  We survived 5+ years of raising triplets and then another baby on our own.  But I feel like we've finally found HOME: we've found our house, our neighborhood, the friends with which our kids will make lifetime memories.  Make no mistake: we still have our existing friends (most of which have kids themselves) and our families that still have their very special place, but it's comforting to feel so at home here.  And while we are unfortunately not living near our families (with the exception of my uncle who isn't too far away), I hope we can at least make them feel at home when they come to visit.

It was a scary thing to move from our last house.  We had lived there for 7 years and it held a lot of cherished memories.  Aaron and his dad put in a lot of hard work remodeling it.  We became long-awaited parents in that house, after enduring the years of pain leading up to that miraculous moment.  Granny (Aaron's wonderful paternal grandma) and my grandma (Haley's namesake, the one I grew up with) had both been there...and had both since passed away.  And then we were taking a step up to a bigger house which is scary in itself.  I never would have thought that in such a short amount of time, this would all feel like 'home' as much as it does.  I never felt that connected in the old neighborhood, even after having the kids.  It's probably because with the exception of our next door neighbors, all the kids were much older.

And maybe the bottom line is that I've long dreamt of such things.  I had the stereotypical fantasy of wanting a husband, a house in a nice neighborhood, a whole bunch of kids, friendly neighbors, lots of friends for my kids, lots of homemade meals (the smells of cooking, yum)...you know how it goes.

I guess as the years go by, it's somewhat humbling to be living the dream.  Even on those 'tough days,' it is just as good as I imagined it.  Like the sign in my kitchen says: Life Is Good.