Hello, is it me you’re looking for?
Baby steps. That’s what it is all about here. I have been seriously so far away from my family blog that it is pitiful. Once again, many times I wondered if I should just let it go and let it be one less thing to do since there is so much to catch up that it overwhelms me. But, I can’t. I just cannot. And I have NO reason why.
Well, maybe that isn’t completely true. Let me tell you why.
I heart this blog. I don’t necessarily heart the time that it takes to upload photos and format and all that jive (mind you, if I could let go of the control and not worry about the format or size of the photos and what it looks like it would all go way quicker, but really…I may have been gone for a while, but I am still the same ole controlling Amy) but I love it. I haven’t printed photos in over 3 years. Phew, I just admitted that. Nash doesn’t even have a baby book. But this blog is MY family. And my dear, sweet husband surprised me with another published book of the blog. Remember this one? Well, I now have book #2 and the other night I caught Byron and Louisa sitting together on the screen porch reading stories from the blog book and THAT my dears is what sealed the deal. I can’t let this blog go, 4 years from now when my mind has gone completely to the birds (yes, I did only give myself 4 more years) I will have these books to look back on and remember these crazy times when I cannot for the life of me figure which way is up or down, the times when I am most tempted to string my kids up by their toes from the ceiling fans by the end of the day, the times that I just sit and cry because I have lost my shiz, and the times that ONE day I will look back on and miss the snot out of.
So, the Norris Family journey continues – here’s hoping I can catch back up.
We are finally back in the beautiful state of Georgia. The place Byron and I both call home. There really is NO place like home. And Athens, GA is proving to be just about the finest place I could ever image to call home. I still wonder sometimes if this is real. Like today for instance…I was in a grocery store right around the corner (NOT to be confused with the corner grocery from Jackson, laws help us that we won’t get that sort of reputation here!) I walked in and not only found fresh, clean produce, but also Wholly Salsa and strawberry Abita beer literally feet from each other in ONE place. I almost cried. I was waiting to wake up from the dream in which I could walk from my house and have my fave summertime beer and salsa in minutes. So, I did what came naturally, I grabbed a stash, headed to the register and when the check-out lady (who had tattoos all up her arm, a nose ring and dreads – have I mentioned how much I love this town?) asked me if the strawberry Abita was good, I looked at her in the eyes and said, “No way. It’s pretty awful. I wouldn’t drink it if I were you, but my husband loves it for some reason, so if yall could keep it in stock that would be fabulous.” And that my dears, is how it is done. Protecting my stash. Well played, Amy.
Anyways, I had started this goodbye blog a while back while still in Jackson, so before I get ahead of myself, let me work on finishing it.
This is goodbye. This is one final goodbye to Cowan Place. A place that we called home for 5 years. You know me, I refuse to acknowledge that I have any feelings or emotional ties to anything, so I never in my right mind (whatever that is) thought I would get emotional leaving the house. But I did. As I had my car loaded down to the brim to make the final trip from Jackson to Georgia, I pulled out of my driveway and the tears came. I was ill-prepared. They flowed, and they flowed and they flowed. I looked back at the house, and this is just a snippet of what I saw.
- I looked at the window to the right of the front door. That room, which was most recently Nash’s nursery, housed both of my babies. I spent many, many, many hours looking out of that window while rocking babies, nursing babies, calming babies and singing lullabies. I had each and every branch of the crape myrtle that sat outside of the window memorized. Down to a tee. I knew there was a sweet little lizard that lived in the tree. And I knew that I would never again look out that window while holding a sweet little babe.
- Then, I thought about the hallway that led from that room. That one hallway alone was the place of BOTH of my baby’s first steps. It was also a place that I spent huddled with kids and animals far too many times to count while listening to the tornado sirens blare while the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight.
- Off of that hallway was a bathroom where I spent many, many hours bathing slippery kiddos and chasing away fevers in the wee hours. It is also where Nash said his first words, “Uh-oh.”
- I left the hallway momentarily and found myself in the den and the sewing room where I spent more hours than I even care to think about starting my own business from the ground up. So much time spent on PR, so much effort into designs, many, many late nights burning the midnight oil pushing myself and my sewing machines past limits to meet deadlines and help bring in some extra income for the family.
- Then, in my mind I walked into my favorite room of the house, the breakfast room – a room I also liked to call the rotunda. It was here that we sang happy birthday to both of my kids for the very first time celebrating oh-so-precious first birthdays.
I sat there in the driveway far too long with my car in reverse with the tears flowing, my mind racing and as Nash started to scream in the back seat I realized I needed to get moving. So, I did. I backed out and I drove off of Cowan Place for the last time ever. I looked in my rearview mirror at the cul-de-sac that I circled thousands of times with fussy babies during suicide hour and said goodbye. And then, I got on I-20 east, and I didn’t look back again.
It is sort of odd now, thinking back on life in Jackson. I actually visited one more time for Byron’s graduation and driving through the town I had no pull or draw to it. I drove down Cowan Place for good measures, but I felt like a Peeping Tom staring at someone else’s house. And well, granted it IS (and mind you I was NOT in the bushes properly peeping tom, but still in my car) but it just felt so strange. I still cannot put my finger on it, but it was strange how far removed I had become. But, the cutest couple bought our sweet house on Cowan Place, and when she texts me telling me that she loves it, it just makes my heart smile.
So, while goodbyes are said to Cowan…hellos are in store for a place I like to call West Clover. A house that literally takes my breath away. A beautiful brick cottage built in 1938 just waiting for Amy to come along 74 years later. It has my name all over it. All over the plaster walls with thick moldings, all over the arched doorways, all over the crystal doorknobs that fall off at the most in-opportune times, all over the hardwoods that my dogs couldn’t hurt more if they tried, and all over the screened porch that I have spent many, many hours on with my strawberry Abita and my Labradors.
West Clover also presents its fair share of issues (lawsy, I think I just choked on my Abita from the understatement there). Thankfully, this house hasn’t been touched since it was built in 1938. What that means to me is that no one has come and jerry-rigged it or stripped it of its original details. What that means to you is that there will be many, many blogs down the road of me probably venting my frustrations regarding renovations, falling-off doorknobs, projects that go bad real quick-like, etc. So, sit back and enjoy the ride over the next couple of years as we transition West Clover to a home. Or, run for the hills to avoid awful renovation stories, because we all know Byron and I find some doozies. OR, better yet…sit back, read and learn how NOT to renovate your house. Hehe.
So, now to continue the task of catching up the blog. Pictures of the new crib will come, all in good time. I promise. Trust me, you might get sick of it. :) Thanks for being patient with me, and for those that are new to the Norris Family journey...head's up - I don't spell check, proof read or any of that jive and sometimes I say bad words. 50 shades of Amy. Haha, now watch me get controversial comments on that one...
Until next time…which hopefully isn’t too far away.