It has been nine months since we moved. 9 months is long enough to grow a baby in a uterus, and to pass off another grade in school, so why isn’t it long enough to fit into a new place. When we moved I worried and worried about my monkey’s fitting in and making new friends, however didn’t think I had to worry about me. And then it is a weird feeling to go visit the old neighborhood and to view someone in your old house gardening, pulling things out, parking in the garage and living in the house you lived in for so long. The chatting with your friends and realizing life there goes on without you. They have their worries and struggles and bbq’s and new cars that you aren’t a part of anymore. At that moment I felt like I didn’t fit in anywhere. I admit I am an odd duck anyway but it was a strange feeling driving back home.
Each day that goes by makes it better and I didn’t shed tears this sunday so that is progress, right. The people here are nice and it is beautiful and I love, love my house, but at times I feel like something square being put in a round whole.
This week, I just did it, I shoved my nervousness down and extended an invite and it turned out to be such a great time! So maybe 9 months isn’t long enough to feel like you are fitting in all the way, but for me I guess it is long enough to gather the courage.