To The Next Step

To most the picture below would be described as a dirt pile, a hole, or simply a muddy mess.  To me it represents progress, an all important move toward that next step.  This picture is where yesterday a paid contractor using real equipment dug out the area for the crawl space that is being poured as a foundation for the back of our house!

This may seem insane to you, but after 10 long months of living in my childhood bedroom, this hole is proof that we are finally moving forward.  No more digging with shovels, we are bringing out the big guns with bobcats and front end loaders. This is a momentous occasion worthy of a toast with a fine full bodied red (however I am too lazy to get up and pour a glass so I sit here typing and toast with my IKEA lingonberry water instead).

I am hesitant to sound like the annoying guy from the American Pie series, incessantly jabbering away about "the next step," though the success of the series seems proof that the characters lives were highly relatable.  Even so, I will tread carefully in this direction.

Having returned from a much needed vacation which I spent lounging in the sun, reading a horribly written but entertaining Stephanie Myers "adult" novel, and catching up with some amazing women I am fortunate to consider friends, the "next step" has been on my mind.  My husband and I have had almost 10 years together so the topic of parenthood has come up a time or two and pretty much every time we came home to visit!  Until very recently it was a perfunctory auto reply, "maybe in a few more years...." to which we usually were given the sad head shake, but the subject was mercifully brief and quickly dropped.

So this may be the point where you wonder if I have adult A.D.D. but I promise this will come together full circle.  It was while on my solo vacation that I came to the realization that I really am ready to move toward parenthood.  While I enjoyed uninterrupted time at the beach, I watched young families building sand castles, riding bikes, and ordering ice cream cones.  While not every moment seemed idyllic (i.e. temper tantrum over a dripping cone, or a sibling "ruining" the mote), the families seemed content and comfortable being together. Then when we went on a girls night out at that same beach days later, I witnessed hormonal spring breakers practically hooking up on the dance floor, there was a line to get into a bar, and my taxi cab reeked of smoke.  It suddenly hit me that my 20's are gone!  Like for real!  We had a great time, but in a it would be fun to do this once a year with my girlfriends sort of way, not like a let's do this again next weekend sort of way.

So while I am not about to throw my pill pack in the trash (which as a sidebar is FREE for women and more people should use!!!!!!), I am to the point where I can give a less vague answer when asked about having kids.  Now instead framing my answer in years, I will simply answer, "when we get our tanglewood home untangled!"  So as the builders continue to forge ahead, and I continue to enjoy my quiet evenings at home with a nice glass of red, the dirt pile you see before you brings a new sense of excitement and anxiety with all the possibilities it represents.