(trying to keep his life a little normal with some playdoh time)
I am currently homeless.
My house sits empty in Boise.
My belongings sit in storage in Cranberry, New Jersey.
And I sit in a Manhattan hotel, not knowing where we are living starting November 1st.
I am a homemaker without a home.
I am...at odds with myself.
How do you decorate for Halloween in a hotel? Do we put our jack-o-lanterns in the hallway? How can I make pumpkin-shaped pancakes when my skillet/pumpkin cookie cutters are in storage? I don't even have my pumpkin tea pot with me!!!!!!
All very important stuff, you see.
At times, I find myself doubting our decision.
I look at my baby, who, by the time we are done with this stay, will have spent 1/4 of his life in a hotel room.
I look at my little boy who has left behind everything he knows (including 98% of his toys which are now in storage too) as he talks about how our old house is "closed and locked."
Then, last week, there came a lengthy grocery store trip and a particularly long check-out line.
Joseph starting whining, and cried that he was ready to "Go home please!"
With a lump in my throat, I reminded him that we didn't live in our house anymore.
To which he replied, "No! Home to the hotel! I'm ready to go home to the hotel room! I want to go HOOOOME!!"
It turns out that I'm not really homeless. Just houseless.
As corny as it sounds, home is where your family is. Where your heart is, see?
So, I took that little boy's hand, paid for the groceries, and took him home.