The dilemma

So, here's the dilemma: shlep all of our worldly goods to Chicago or purge it all and start with a clean slate?

I'm leaning towards the latter.

I'm not one to get to attached to things. My fantasy is to haul all of our furniture, appliances, books, dishes, pots and pans, fondue pot, and mismatched coffee mug collection out onto the front lawn and throw a big yard sale. My things will be better off with people who will appreciate them, cherish them, even love them! Me? I barely tolerate my stuff.

My dream is to pack up my clothes (the outfits I'm not totally sick of), some books, the photo albums, the art, my kids and the piano, and throw it all into the back of a rented trailer - minus the kids who will be safely buckled into their government approved carseats, of course - and drive north to an empty apartment. I will fill the bare space with new furniture, new dishes, new houseplants, and new coffee mugs that reflect my taste, my style, and who I am at this moment!

At this point in my fantasy I let out a great big growl and break into an Aretha anthem.

It's easy to be emotionally detached from stuff, things, material possessions. Even the words sound trivial, unimportant. Except material possessions, that sounds like junk aspiring to be a family heirloom. It's easy, that is, until you don't have them anymore. Maybe it's something deeper. Is jettisoning my old tupperware a symbolic detachment from what roots me here? With every tossed trinket, the ties-that-bind are loosened a notch?

Uh huh.

Okay, the truth is I have three kids. Kids are messy. I know what they've done to that area rug, and I don't want it following me to Chicago! They've been especially messy this past week. My son had a nasty stomach virus. Without going into too much gory detail, suffice it to say, the already skinny kid lost 12% of his body weight in one week. I cried giving him a bath, running my hands over every protruding rib. It broke my heart to see him being such a trooper when he couldn't walk because his legs had cramped up from lack of potassium. Today was his little sister's turn. She couldn't keep water down. She was listless, pale, and quiet as a mouse. She just looked at me with her big, brown sad eyes, and said nothing.

So, who am I at this moment? Sage green and lavender. Out with the butter yellows and cranberry reds, in with the earthy, Springy tones. Out with the inflated sense of presumption and entitlement, in with the pared down and prudent. Out with the taking for granted, in with the taking care.

I am MOMMY, hear me roar!