Big Changes

Maybe I’ve been distant or seem like I have something on my mind. I haven’t been completely honest with people. Not by lying, but by withholding information. Every blog I’ve written since summer has been lacking a giant piece of information and it’s been difficult. Family and friends have slowly been let into the loop, but until everyone knew, the information could not be completely public. So let me fill in that giant gap.

At the beginning of summer, we were preparing to move back to our original White Bear house. Loran and I, after a couple of years of talking and praying about a big decision had started moving forward in something that was very near and dear to my heart. I figured it was only a matter of time before I made that big decision blog-official. Loran and I had gone to meetings, informational sessions and started the process to adopt internationally. I thought *that* was going to be our big news. It’s not. While we had filled out the initial application, put a little money towards it and had in hand the big pile of paperwork awaiting our time and attention, God had other ideas. We didn’t fill our paperwork out right away because we were moving and didn’t want our attentions divided.

Children’s Home Society

We moved toward the end of June. Shortly after, Loran was out of the country for nearly two weeks and I worked on unpacking and the paperwork laid blank. Mid-July was settling in as I unpacked the last of our boxes (highly efficient? yes.)  I’m not even kidding when I write that the day I unpacked and broke down the last box, Loran was approached about a new position at a company he’s worked with and admired for years, Bazaarvoice in Austin, Texas. As a Minnesotan, I have to qualify the Austin part, with Texas as there is an Austin, MN – which happens to be the SPAM capitol of the world. No disrespect to SPAM, but I don’t want people to think I’m moving there.

Loran took a few trips down to talk with them and explore the possibility. And I kept my mind and heart open to the idea. That in itself was a big step for me, personally. I’ve always been quick to say “no” to Loran. Most times too quick. However, when you live with someone who thinks taking a “cheap” flight to Siberia in January is a great idea, sometimes the “no” is less me squelching dreams and more a survival instinct stepping in. As the summer continued, we kept talking about the idea of moving and while it was hard to think about leaving the wonderful life we’ve made for ourselves in Minnesota, I was having a hard time finding reasons not to move to Austin. Every door seemed to be opening and there haven’t been major obstacles. Sometimes you don’t need a burning bush to tell you that you should do something. Austin is consistantly well rated on lists of great places to live, raise families, be outdoors, work, etc., etc.  Everyone we mentioned Austin to seemed to have a wonderful glowing review based on previous visits, time spent there or family and friends who lived there. Nobody ever just shrugged it off as, “Oh, Austin. That’s nice.” (like they would if I was moving to Austin, MN).

Mid-September, Loran and I snuck down there so I could check things out right before his big interview. I was on the ground about 36 hours. In that time, we drove ALL over. We put hundreds of miles on our brand new rental car. We saw neighborhood after neighborhood. Crossing some off the list, liking others. We saw sights, we went to real estate open houses and model homes. We drove by potential Montessori schools and elementary schools.

When Loran had first mentioned Texas, I immediately had this vision of flat, dusty land like in a Western movie. And of course, I saw the tumbleweed blow across. My second thought was of my almost knee-length heavy duty winter coat I’d purchased last year and how much I adore that coat. Clearly, this shows that my mind is not stable.

Welcome to Texas, Gutt Family.

Now I’m sure, since Texas is like it’s own country. And is in fact one of the only states that can still secede from the US, I know I can probably find that lowly tumbleweed somewhere in the state. I now know that Austin is not where I’d look first. Austin has hills. Big rolling hills. And a lake. More like a “lake” – it’s a dammed section of the Colorado River called Lake Travis. But if I go around town using air quotes every time I mention their beloved lake, I won’t make many friends.

Look! Green trees, and there’s actually a little stream babbling through there too.

Lake Travis at sunset. Lake Travis is also experiencing low water levels, so that will be familiar.

The more we explored, the more we liked. Austin was trendy and fun but full of southern comfort. Everyone was friendly. Some people had the Texas drawl and I was desperately wanting to use the word “y’all” anytime I could, but realized with my Minnesotan accent, I’d just sound like a moron. In fact, I was very cognizant of my accent. And almost felt self-conscious to open my mouth and speak. While we were sitting at a BBQ restaurant where I took those sunset photos, I ordered the Asian pork (because that is a real thing). Apparently, I read the menu wrong and our waiter asked if I meant the “Austin pork” because that actually makes sense. Yes, I said sheepishly while ducking my head. Although, since I’m from Minnesota, I probably, most likely said “Yeah”. But, because Austin is a big tech town with a large university – Go Longhorns – there are a lot of people who don’t have accents, who aren’t from Texas. And because there is a giant 3M campus in Austin, there are a lot of people who sound just like me!

 

The Sunday of my trip, we woke up to rain. Pouring rain. That didn’t stop us from checking out more neighborhoods. We’d found a builder we admired the work of, David Weekley and had already checked out one development with their houses, but wanted to check out another that was brand new, just coming up in the “Hill Country” called Sweetwater. As I was driving on the freeway in the pouring rain, I saw something crossing the road. This something was large enough that I could see it, despite the conditions at 70 mph. It was a tarantula. That nearly changed my mind right there. I was sure that if I’d hit it, we’d have felt it. Ew. But we persevered and the trip ended up being worth it. Even in the pouring rain, the beauty of Sweetwater was evident. With only a few existing houses in the new community that will eventually hold thousands being built in the next decade, there wasn’t a lot to take in, but a lot to imagine. We met with the Sales Consultant at the David Weekley model and she took us on a tour of the neighborhood, through houses in various phases of construction/completion. 

The hills of Sweetwater in the pouring rain.

Loran brought me to the airport with a stop at Allens Boots – the place to purchase real cowboy boots for the two of us. Rows upon rows of boots, floor to ceiling. I told them I was looking for a nice pair of “entry level” boots. They pointed to the first shelf. Of course, I had to take a peek at the top shelf and then quickly replaced them hoping I’d done no damage to their fine leather as I did not have the resources to pay for them! Loran and I each left with a nice pair of entry level boots which are strangely comfortable.

With boots in hand, Loran dropped me off at the Austin airport where I pretended to have airline status to get through security quickly (it worked). I left Austin with a happy heart and prayed that Loran would have a great interview the following day.

The next day, Loran wore his boots on his interview and the girls and I wore our boots in solidarity. The girls didn’t really realize why they were wearing theirs, but any excuse to wear their pink cowgirl boots is good by them! These are the pictures we sent to Loran prior to his interview.

So, as you can surmise, Loran was offered a job. He accepted the job. We put down money to purchase a lot in the Sweetwater development and picked out our house. As I type this on November 16, our foundation was to be poured. There were, of course, a lot of discussions amongst a lot of people related to this decision, but I’m glossing over negotiations, contracts, etc., etc.

Our lot. Insert house here.

The idea of moving has included a mourning process. While this is all fun and exciting, there is a reality of leaving behind everything we’ve known as a family of four. When Loran and I set off to live in Connecticut after our wedding, I was focused on the adventure and not the reality. Because of this, I wasn’t expecting to be gripped with depression. I hadn’t known what to expect since the furthest I’d lived from my familiar life was an hour away while in college. The reality of not seeing family at the drop of a hat, of not knowing where the doctor’s office was, the post office, where the grocery store was, who I would call if my car didn’t start, etc. Those were realities I hadn’t prepared myself for. Accordingly, I stayed shut in our apartment, venturing out on little trips armed with printed directions. I had a hard time making friends and sat in the dark watching television a lot. I cried a lot. I missed home and everything familiar.

This time, I am mourning. I am realistic. And, it is helping. I’m having to say goodbye to my activities, like being on the board of the local historical society, volunteering at the girls’ school, volunteering in our church nursery, participating in Moms on the Run, my MOPS meetings. All of those wonderful things that made my community feel like home, got me connected with others.

I’m having the hardest time with saying goodbye to Garden of Hope and Normandy Park, more the former because of the relationships I’ve formed and the latter for the love and care they’ve shown Ella. Both have helped her and us grow by leaps and bounds. They’ve been our team, our village in helping Ella blossom and get past motor delays and sensory processing issues. For these I mourn.

Garden of Hope opened my eyes to a new educational style and allowed me into their magical world as a volunteer and sometimes a paid substitute! But also as a parent where I’ve watched in awe as Thanks are given in November, Ella’s trips around the sun are counted in December, children show their parents what their day is like, a field is transformed into a festival of fun and songs are sung as the year is celebrated in May. I drive the familiar drive every morning and afternoon with a lump in my throat knowing that I’m leaving that source of comfort. Knowing that it takes me 8 minutes to get there, 6 if I make the light.

Normandy Park is filled with Physical Therapists, Occupational Therapists, Speech Therapists, paras and teachers who have loved Ella, challenged Ella and supported her growth physically and mentally. Supported my growth as a mother of a special needs child – mostly mentally, but I’ve gotten a few hugs along the way (usually when tears stream down my face as I watch Ella do something remarkably similar to her non-special ed peers).

I mourn leaving Eagle Brook Church. The building and people where I found my spiritual wings. Where I left cynicism behind and took the step into believing on December 23, 2005. Where I’ve counseled middle school girls, rocked babies, led volunteers, sponsored children, packed food, listened to leaders, shed tears, learned how to live debt free, met great friends, learned the Word. It basically changed our family and how we are raising our children before our children were even born. Strengthened our marriage in ways we’ll never be able to quantify. But as our wise friend/children’s pastor said about leaving our church and moving to Texas, “You might end up on the one corner that doesn’t have a church. That would be rough.” hmm…she’s got a point. There seem to be a few Christian churches to choose from.

There’s other mourning I’m doing. From paying extra attention to my favorite fall trees and the way the light hits them. The comfort in knowing our pediatrician’s office is only ten minutes away and they have same day appointments along with evening and Saturday hours. I know where to get pants hemmed. I have a plumber. I have a cleaning guy I can call in a pinch. I have babysitters. I have family who can rescue me when my imagination has turned the mouse in the trap into a raccoon in the trap. I’m one who takes great comfort in routines. I have routines. I have people. People know I’m here. I’m mourning the loss of that. I’m very realistic now that I’ve done it once in knowing that people won’t know I’m there. I won’t have a team. All of those things will have to be built again. But this time, I know it. I’m not naively going into the situation not realizing the facts. 

The situation is not fraught with mourning though! There’s a lot of excitement too. An adventure, a new place where we can set down roots. A brand new house, which is thrilling since the newest house we’ve lived in as a couple was built in 1927. Oh, to have more than one outlet in a room. What a dream! I could open a Moms on the Run franchise in Austin – the first! Every day we’ll have a view of the sun sinking over those beautiful rolling hills from our back porch. We’ll have a dedicated guest room/bath for family and friends to visit. Loran’s new company seems to be very family friendly. They even have an honor-based vacation policy. Take what you need as long as you get your work done. We’ll have to adjust our thinking when it comes to weather. Instead of enjoying three months of summer and nearly nine months of cold weather, we’ll enjoy nine months of decent weather and three months of sweltering weather. Our new development is building an amazing looking pool and will have miles of hiking trails. While we won’t have many neighbors to begin with, we’ll have the advantage of all being the new kids on the block. Everyone is new, everyone will have to make friends. No cliques to try to break into. It seems our neighborhood will have many young families too which leads to many possibilities for friends for not only the girls but Loran and myself. With technology like social media, this blog, cell phones and Skype  -  it’s not like moving to Connecticut ten year ago.

Loran will start his new position the first of December and live in a hotel for two weeks. He’ll then return through Christmas and our moving trucks will arrive after Christmas and we’ll take off in my car with two girls and two cats. We’ll go south on 35E and take 35 to Austin. We’ll stay in an apartment short-term while our house is completed. We’ll start figuring things out. We’ll find a doctor, dry cleaner and plumber. All of those little things that make life comfortable and predictable will start to fall into place. Day by day, we’ll get there, as a family. 

Here’s to new adventure in 2013. 

While our big news doesn’t include an addition to the Gutt family, the new house will have more bedrooms to fill…maybe someday, we’ll start filling out the paperwork again, through a new agency in our new zip code. Gutts have a lot of love to give.