We are about to embark on our fourth move in three years and our second across the country. Things in Texas never jelled. It never felt like home and our attempt to move closer to family ended horribly. So we circled our wagons and are heading back East. A wonderful house rental fell into our laps, and for the first time since we moved out of our parents’ houses we will have a backyard.
The last two weeks alone have been pure madness: A trip to Dallas for a trade show, an emergency trip to an eye doctor for a scratched cornea (my right eye) courtesy of my darling son, an overnight trip to California for business, my mom visiting followed a few days later by my father-in-law, a trip to San Antonio for my citizenship interview (I passed!), and in between all of this the craziness of fertility treatments: multiple runs to the lab to have blood drawn, trips to the doctor for sonograms to gauge how my follicles are maturing, nightly shots of fertility drugs, and two IUIs.
To top it all off my husband and I have a business to run, one that is gaining speed and requires a ridiculous amount of juggling: two upcoming magazine articles, blogger reviews, product samples, and a major grocery chain that wants to carry our product. It is all so exciting, but there is barely a moment to pause.
Wait, I almost forgot, I have my son to take care of as well!
And amidst all this mishegas, a phrase keeps popping into my head. It is one near and dear to me as it has proven its worth before: Mishaneh Makom, Mishaneh Mazal: change your place, change your luck.
I kept this saying on a sticky note next to my desk for years when I lived in L.A. When I finally reached a breaking point there, one day I looked up and saw it as if for the first time. Ten weeks later I had moved to New York and shortly thereafter met my husband, got married, and had a baby.
Once again, when my husband and I decided to Mishaneh Makom, everything started to fall into place for us in a way it had not since we arrived in Texas:Mishaneh Mazal. Nevertheless, while Alex and I may thrive on chaos and embrace change, how does it affect our son Aiven? As we pack boxes, work on our business, and manage our overextended lives, Aiven’s de facto babysitter has become Dora the Explorer. Dora creeped up from being a delicacy we indulged in for half an hour a day to a TV marathon that starts with him yelling “Do-Ra” instead of “Ma-Ma” in the morning (accent on the second syllable! Too cute for words to give it justice). And now, with our actual babysitter leaving us this Friday, Aiven is bound to get a whole lot more of the same. Alex and I may have been miserable in Texas, but Aiven seemed to do just fine. How will he adapt to his new surroundings? Did he bond to any of his caregivers in Texas; will he miss them? How can we help him with the transition? And most important, how will he deal without Do-Ra on our road trip back East?
I’m confident that when all is said and done, Aiven’s new home will be a better one. He’s going to love having a larger living space, a backyard, four seasons, and happy parents. And I will finally be able relax a bit. Maybe.