We knew subletting would be hard. Well, it is. It’s hard to not have a “place” for things. It’s hard to feel constantly on edge that your increasingly rebellious and active two year old is going to do irreversible damage to someone else’s furniture/hardwood floors/walls. I feel constantly confused, out of place, stressed, and uncomfortable. But as soon as I get grippy, I think, what a blessing that we only have to deal with this for a few months and then we can move into our new house. We’re so blessed to live in a lovely location, in a home with more than one bedroom, and to be super close to the hospital.I remind myself of these things and wish they would overpower the too oft feelings of stress and frustration. Sigh.
I thought I could “do” this: live in a tiny house, without a yard, feet from my neighbors for the length of our stay in Seattle. But considering the last two weeks, I think it would have been a serious challenge to my perky outlook. Being able to go outside and garden without being viewed by multiple neighbors keeps me centered. Knowing I can send my child out to play while I make dinner gives me peace of mind. Having a place where I can wrestle and romp with Scotland without worrying about ruining another persons stuff makes me a happy mom. Knowing this about myself, makes our new home purchase feel all the more miraculous. I don’t know why things just seem to work out for us so often. It’s awkward, really. When everyone around me seems to be struggling with really tough challenges I feel like Tom and I keep getting the silver platter. We try to be grateful and really appreciate what we’re given. But I can’t help ask, why? (And then if I let the dark cloud float in “When?!”) 
One dear friend is still living with her sister’s family after a few years searching for a job good enough to make purchasing an apartment feasible. I think about how lost and out of control I have felt not living in my own space, and then I think of her, living this way for years. I think of another friend who, like me, spent endless hours and energy fixing up her home until it was absolutely beautiful, but then it didn’t sell. They had to move, so they rented it. . . Not only has it been a financial strain, but an emotional one. Why didn’t their home sell? I don’t know. I like to say we were “blessed” but I don’t intend that to mean they were punished, or even “not blessed.” I think of a friend who would love to move, but who is stuck in a town with few friends and little career advancement opportunities. And I feel ever more determined to appreciate this chance to explore a new city. There are the friends who despite years of trying don’t have their own Scotter to light up their life and bring laughter. I think of friends who would like to be, but aren’t married. Who keep seeing relationships coming to an end. Who have started to wonder if they’ll ever find the one. Then I think of my situation. Tom was the only guy I dated seriously, we met my first semester of college. He literally showed up on my doorstep. It couldn’t have been easier. (For me- Tom might have a different story. wink wink)  
My in-laws and others who have experienced residency have warned me: “The next five years are going to be hell.” And instead of feeling scared I tend to shrug my shoulders and think, “Well, I guess its our turn.” But, I’m not going to take it without a fight. I’m not ready to throw up my hands and give away the next five years of my life. I might feel like a “single mom” but I won’t be, because I won’t have to work, unless I want to. I’ll have Tom’s emotional support, though not always his physical, and I’ll have the knowledge that I’m helping Tom pursue a noble profession of service and sacrifice while he is allowing me to pursue the same. Having faced little real challenge, I don’t know how I’ll fare. But if natural childbirth taught me anything it’s that you can pray and breath yourself through about anything!