time to go

I used to be able to see decades into the future. I had a pretty picture of two rockers on the porch with grandkids playing in the yard. 

Four years ago my then-husband and I found our little slice of heaven in the country.

Three years ago we moved our family into the home we built, planning to grow old together.

Two years ago that forever bubble popped and rockers on the porch were gone.  

I found myself unable to see past tomorrow. I had no sense of where I would be in two years, let alone twenty.

For months I let life wash over me. I kept my head above water, mostly.  I struggled to get through every day, finding the little happinesses  and trying not to think about what comes next.  Life settled into a predicable series of trials to get through and pleasures to enjoy.  But under it all, I was still overwhelmed.  I was completely overwhelmed.

Bills. Feeling like I was drowning in debt.

Three months of no employment will do that.

Keeping house. I can never get caught up.

Three littles, a big dog, a little cat, a firstful of chickens and an acre of grass and mud will do that.

I love my acre of grass and mud, my chickens, cat and dog.

I love the sunrise in the winter and the milky way at midnight.

I love it.

But.

I do not love the house.

We built this house for us, our forever house.

There is a whole lot of “us” in this house.

It's too big for me, there's too much space.

When it’s just me, I get swallowed by the space.

We built it for big family gatherings and room to grow.
Instead of filling the house with laughter and joy, we rattle around.

There's just me and my littles.

I need less. I want less. 

But could I? 

Could I really pack up and move?
Financially, emotionally, realistically, was it even possible?

So. I stewed.
I mulled.
I tossed and turned.
Then, I decided.

Yes.

This is right. This feels right.

This is not my home. 

This house is not my home any longer. 

It’s time to go.

In a few months I'll be putting this house on the market.

I'm starting a new chapter.
I’ll be finding a home.
A home that's all kinds of Kristin.

Just me and my littles. And the dog. And the cat. And a few chickens.

It certainly won't be a new home, It will probably be old, little and quirky.

I like little. I like quirky.  

All kinds of Kristin.

I’m still not sure how it's all going to play out.  I'll be talking with a mortgage broker. I’m a single mom with a mountain of student loans and a bit of credit card debt.  I'm not in the best shape, credit wise.
Divorce tends to do that.

I honestly don't expect many possibilities, but I've got other options.
Go until they say no, Right?

So.
There you have it.
Changes are coming.

Big changes.

Really big changes.

Scary.

Anyone got any boxes?

Or any clue how to downsize my clutter to fit in a house half the size of what I'm in now?