Another stage of grieving.

We made the mistake of doing two great things for our kids today -- lots of candy from one kid's birthday party -- plus going to see Rio. Holy cats that's some awesome animation. New parenting rule: do only one nice thing for a kid per day. Do two and then they expect a spray of candy and unlimited video games, and then you are the worst person ever.

When we got home, I was a wreck. We are moving. I spent $50+ at the Maplewood plant sale (okay, it's much less than I normally would have spent) and I filled my raised beds with plants that won't be ready to harvest until we leave. That was yesterday. I went back today and bought even more plants that will flower when we are long gone.

My darling husband sheparded the kiddos to bed, I was left with a couple of marinaded steaks from Eden Gourmet. He heated up the grill and went upstairs. I went outside and dissolved.

Really? Am I going to leave this backyard? We ripped out the chain link fence that contained only a third of the backyard. We reseeded and gardened around all of the places that were shady. We leaned on our friends and got them to landscape the yard. My dear father bought a wooden playhouse and my husband assembled it. My Dad returned and made a platform for it to sit on, and while he was at it, he showed my kids how to use a power drill.

How, I ask you, how can I leave this house?

Tonight I went out and said a little prayer to my backyard. I told it how much I loved it. I said how much I loved the plants we planted, the areas we landscaped. the trees we Diafied. I prayed that someone will take over the caretaking of this 100-year-old house, that someone will worship our big tree. That someone will continue on our 100% organic raised bed gardens. I prayed to the stars that someone will love this house and our little patch of garden as much--nay, MORE than -- we do.

I look forward to the next stage in our lives with great excitement. It really is a Grand Family Adventure.

But O, my house. This was the house that we were going to raise our kids in. We were planning on 20+ years here.

It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be awesome, even. But my husband (and all you kind folks that read my blog) just need to also witness the death of what I thought was gonna happen. Boy, do I mourn it.

I promise to be more positive tomorrow. At least you weren't here today when I lost it with Evan! O, the sobbing and keening! And yet, the awesome mashed potatoes!