Blessed and Stressed

The last three months of my life can be best summed up in two words: blessed and stressed (see blog post title).

Why stressed?

I planned my summer semester with 6 credit hours, knowing we would take a 10-day trip to Utah and Idaho. I knew I'd have to work hard keep up with school over the trip. I also felt confident I could manage it if I was careful.

Isaac and Mary trying to scare off bears in Idaho.

Then Isaac got an unexpected job offer within days of returning home from that trip (which was super fun, BTW).

Then he accepted it after a few days of agonizing about what to do.

Then we moved two weeks later, after packing, writing a major paper, looking for new places to live, giving away our cat (*sob*), and saying good-bye to dear friends. Then we drove for 3 days to our new home.

Then we took a trip to Nevada and Arizona to see friends and family.

Then I took another trip to Arizona to stay with my mom after her surgery.

Lest anyone think to congratulate me on passing my classes and successfully navigating such a summer, I feel I must first come clean with you. I spent the last few months learning that I am even more  flawed than I already knew I was, and passed most of the summer scowling, snapping at Isaac, and eating chocolate.

(Thank goodness for those extra 500-a-day breastfeeding calories).

Well, then, why blessed?

Isaac struggled with his job in Cincinnati from day one. He felt bored and stagnant, and was frequently uninterested in the work he was doing there. His new job brought us back out west, minutes away from his family and an easy day's drive away from mine.

Also, during the move, all I really wanted was to curl up in a ball and hope that a natural disaster would come and wipe out our stuff so we wouldn't have to move it all.

None came.

But people came. We had help packing, help with meals, and even help driving the moving van and our car across country (thanks to Isaac's mom and brother). It would have been difficult at best to do it all alone, but we didn't have to.

There's more, too. I passed my classes. My mom recovered in record time from her surgery, staying in the hospital only one day when they told her to plan on 5. Isaac took the summer in stride, retaining his awesome attitude, putting up with AND consoling his stressed-out and grumpy wife, helping with Mary, and putting in long hours coordinating the difficult logistics of changing jobs and homes.

My mom out on a walk less than a week after her surgery.
With my brother and his adorable kids.
Smiling because we don't know we're about to be attacked by killer mosquitos.

And, of course, there's Mary, who, despite her continuing napping strike, still remained a ray of sunshine through all the stress.

Keeping it real on the road.

She's eating solids, babbling up a storm, sitting up and rolling over, and still has no teeth. She handled the three days in the car remarkably well. Better than I did, in fact.

As if she weren't entertaining enough, her feet move ALL the time. If she's awake, her little feet are moving in circles (my mom calls them prehensile toes). She also loves people, loves being outside, loves music, and laughs hysterically if you tickle just about any part of her body. 

I get comments on her cuteness and general squishiness almost wherever I go, and once in a elevator a man looked at Mary and then asked his wife if she wanted to have more kids. 

She has that effect on us, too.