a blended life

Health: I am not healthy right now. There's no other way to say it. I've been declining for about a month and have more days in bed than I do out of bed. Jacob has dragged me around to appointments and hospitals and so far, no answers. I have an ultrasound on my thyroid on Thursday. I have a referral for someone who is supposed to be the best endocrinologist in Miami, appointment pending. I have no energy and a list of symptoms that is now including sweating, loss of appetite, severe migraines not related to female cycles, and some of the most massive irritability you can imagine (it's bad, folks). I was hoping to go to 10,000 Islands tomorrow--doesn't that sound like paradise?--but we'll see. I have to save my energy for Friday when I chaperone Leah's class trip to EPCOT. Looking back at the past month, I can't believe I made it through our trip to Utah and New York. I was physically miserable for most of it. No wonder I had a meltdown in Brooklyn. Movi...

We left off with having applied for an apartment but not feeling super great about it. The realtor called me in the middle of Primary (luckily I could answer) and informed me that the landlord approved our application based solely on the fact that my dad works at BYU, and because he works there, we must have great credit and they won't be running a credit check on us. She sent us the lease this week with a short email telling us we needed to send.....drum roll please..... $9,600 in deposits and fees to hold the place. Cover your ears-- NINE THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR A ONE BEDROOM MATCHBOX WITH NO DISHWASHER???!!!! So back to the drawing board. I have some friends in Logan that put me in touch with a family in NYC. I spent 30 minutes talking to this lady today. She has 5 kids--so 7 total people-- in a two bedroom apartment in Manhattan. She and her husband have a bed in the living room. "You get used to not having any privacy," she says. She said it's a rite...

Housing update: We applied for an apartment in Queens and were rejected before they even ran a credit or background check. The landlord had some excuse about number of occupants vs square footage, but the whole thing reeked of discrimination (they don't love kids) and was slightly irritating. So we applied for ANOTHER place that was right next door. It took almost the full week to get the application filled out just right--no black spaces! -- and after many frustrating phone calls and emails, we finally got everything turned in 30 minutes before Shabbat (they are Orthodox Jews and turn off their phones on Friday night). I had a clear thought after I hit send that we wouldn't be living there. Not sure why, either we won't be accepted for that either or we will find something better. Neither Jacob nor I feel terribly worried about any of it. Something will fall into place when it needs to, and frankly, the more we think about it, the more we don't think we can live i...

Leah 4th grade class used to play "Would you rather.." with really silly questions like would you rather have no arms or no legs? Would you rather have really bad breath or really smelly feet? This past weekend in NYC was a study in 'would you rather', and I think we all surprised each other with our true feelings. This upcoming move has given all of us an opportunity to talk about what really matters to us. Also an opportunity to talk about what we can tolerate for one year (no laundry) and what we cannot budge on (no dishwasher). Would you rather have a long commute or a really small, expensive apartment? Would you rather live in a dangerous neighborhood or live in a really small, expensive apartment? Would you rather be in the same school as your sister and live across the street, or have a bigger apartment? Would you rather live by Central Park or in a neighborhood with some sense of community and safety? Would you rather live on Steinway Street or Park Avenu...

I don't like that phrase "home is where the heart is" because my heart is torn in different pieces and tossed all over the country. Washington, Oregon, Utah, Mississippi, South Dakota, Oklahoma, etc, And in a few months, I'll leave a piece of myself and my heart here in Miami. Jacob and I had a discussion about what makes a home, home. We flew home last night from a jam-packed, crack crazy trip to NYC. We drove through an intersection close to our house and Jacob said, "It's not my intersection anymore." I said, "Whoa, buddy. We haven't left yet. We're not gonna be saying goodbye to the intersections for at least a month or two." But it brought up a good point. Is Miami home, or is NYC home? The transition isn't automatic. We let go of places while we're still living in them, yet we start to embrace and accept new places before we've set up our bed. What do you qualify as 'home'? I almost want to say it's whereve...