(My house, not my blog.)

Can I be brutally honest?

The blog post I wrote a couple of hours ago sucked on multiple levels, so I took it down. Basically I overreacted by writing about a situation that hurt me deeply. It involved my child and someone's feelings about him, and there's very little that makes me more defensive and quick to bite than that. I should never have written about it, because it serves no useful purpose, and it could hurt the person involved. I don't want to do that, because I don't want to be that asshole.

I am not an asshole.

Usually.

If I get enough sleep.

And if I'm not about to get my period. I recommend nobody talk to me for the two days preceding that monthly event.

So, if you read it, I apologize for dragging you down that thorny path of negativity with me. I made a mistake. I have a lot of other things going on right now and I think I'm focusing on the wrong one. So, in an attempt to clear the air and start the year off right, here's what's really happening - the stuff just beneath the surface.

We are moving.

Well, if we can sell this house. That's stressor #1.

And if we can't sell this house? Well, that's not really an option. Not a good one, anyway. We need to list and sell and make enough that we can get another home in a different part of the city.

Well, technically it's a different city. Which is in a different province. Stressor #2.

We live in Gatineau, Quebec right now. We have a lovely old house on a half acre. It's surrounded by great neighbours and close to some pretty amazing schools. I'm on a first name basis with much of the staff at our elementary school both because I've been a parent volunteer for many years and also because I do sub work there. My folks live three blocks away in the house I grew up in. We even have a magnificent barred owl living in our backyard I've nicknamed McPimp. It's so perfect in so many ways. Stressor #3.

But for a lot of reasons we need to move 30 minutes away and into a suburb of Ottawa, Ontario called Kanata. We lived there for a couple of years before we had kids, but that was 20 years ago. My spouse and our hearing impaired kids struggle with French, which, while not a requirement in this area, makes Gatineau difficult for them. Geekster would like to live a lot closer to work. The services for our kids are better in Ontario. Our particular situation would be improved if we moved.

And yes, I totally made that rhyme on purpose. McPimp would approve, as I'm quite sure he's in the rap game.

I've outright sobbed over this (the sale, not the owl). You know those women on Dr. Phil who won't stop doing the ugly cry the entire segment and you're all, "Ok, lady. Can you get it together for at least a minute so I can understand what you're saying?" Like that, but with brief moments of respite in which I'll cram a chocolate bar down my throat.

But while a part of me is heartbroken over the idea, another part is excited. New house, new neighbourhood, new schools, new friends-- Oh, yeah. Friends. I like having those. I have a lot of them here; amazing, insightful, funny women and men who just get me.

... What if nobody there gets me? What if nobody likes me? What if we fit in perfectly over here and we're that weird eccentric family over there? What if they don't need volunteers at the school? Or at least curly-haired writer volunteers who have a bit of a control issue surrounding craft making and library book organization? What if they say, "Sorry - uh, what was your name again? Raven, or something? Our fundraising board is all filled up as is our friendship quota"?

My stress eczema is very eczema-y at the thought.

The gremlins are all eager to try out a new city and make new connections. Geekster has his work and work friends there. I go back and forth between hopeful and panicked. I'm the unknown in this equation. As a person who isn't thrilled with change, this shit is hard. Leaving everything I know is hard, even if it's only a half hour away. Even whining about it on the internet is hard, because I realize a move like this is nothing to a lot of people. It is to me, The Maven, who prefers mundane to mayhem. I like a life with few upheavals.

But I understand this is how people grow. And I also understand that, despite all logic, it can't be about me all the time. Sometimes, it has to be about them. This will be better for all of them.

All this to say that, while I'm generally not right in the head, I'm really not right in the head right now. (That's so many rights it makes a wrong.) And this means little things upset me, and big things that normally wouldn't upset me as much are really upsetting me. (That's so many upsets it equals a crazy.) Hence the blog post earlier and all the pouting and frowning I've been doing lately.

Have any amazing advice to share? I mean, other than telling me to stop being a big drama queen, which is probably not ever going to change. I'm a flawed individual, folks. Just don't tell any of my potential new neighbours.