Coming Home (by Sunshine)

Home again, safe and sound!

As we drove into town I had an anxious feeling in my stomach. We searched for what was the same (most everything) and what looked different (not much). We commented on how green the grass was (must have been a lot of rain because it's usually brown by this time of summer), how large the neighbors' evergreens had grown, and which flowers were still in bloom (coneflowers, daisies, and bee balm in the front planter). When we arrived home we all sat in the car for a moment looking at one another before approaching the house. This was it - the end of our six month journey and the beginning of “real” life again. Would it be the same? Had we somehow changed?

We all entered the house together. Jim and I both had the same initial reaction—the house felt small. How terribly ironic after living in the tiny Burro for six months! In reality, the Burro was our shelter, but the outdoors had become our home. Compared to the all the amazing places we’d explored our house is small.

Gifts from our Schmeeckle friends

Our kitchen and coffee tables were covered with "welcome home" gifts from our neighbor, Julie, and Jim’s coworkers. The gifts made us feel happy, missed, and loved. They also gave us something new and exciting to focus on, rather than feeling like something was ending. As we ventured to the backyard together, the neighbors came to our yard to greet us. The lawn was mowed and there were a few raspberries on the bushes. Our first mail was in the box. The house across the street had not only a ‘for sale’ sign in the yard, but also a ‘sold’ sign. Two houses down, completely new neighbors had already settled in. There was change all around, but everything felt remarkably the same.

We brought little in from the car and Burro because we had so much in the house—clothes, dishes, toys. I took everything from our packed tiny refrigerator/freezer in the Burro and put it in the house. The huge refrigerator looked empty, like a college student’s. It felt like wasteful luxury to turn on the faucet and have running water. As a society, we’ve become really removed from this fact. When you carry your water in a jug from a faucet to your campsite every day, you are extremely aware of how much you use.

Hugs from "My Julie" our neighbor who watched
over the house while we were away

Later in the evening, Walden was eating a snack at the kitchen table and asked, “Is this our house?” I said, “Yes, it is. Do you think we should stay a while?” He said, “It feels like a different house.” I knew what he meant and agreed completely. It took a while to remember where things were that I used regularly before we left—the plastic bags, Walden’s cups. We left in March, so there were winter boots by the door. My closet was full of long sleeved shirts and sweaters. There were babyish things everywhere—childproof locks on the kitchen cupboards, a baby bathtub, 2-T onesies. We left with a toddler and came back with a little boy.

Readjusting is hard. Really hard. We were all in a funk and out of sorts the first few days back in Wisconsin. Luckily, we had four days at home together before Jim went back to work. There was so much to do that it was overwhelming, yet we just wanted to be outside taking a walk. That is what we knew; what was familiar. Being outside. Being together. Enjoying simple things. We muddled through those first few days with a combination of working and playing. We hadn’t ridden our bikes in six months so we made that a high priority. We are very aware that this beautiful weather will not last, and before long, we'll be holed up inside for the winter.

How Walden spent the final hours on the drive home

Walden has had to learn new boundaries. At first he wanted constant attention, but over time he is learning to play by himself more. He’s been extra tired. I think life at home is overwhelming for him just like it is for us. We are also starting potty training. It is time. I’m trying not to push too hard, but at the same time I thought perhaps he would take to the idea of being home means lots of new things and using the toilet is one of them.

We all had trouble sleeping for days. Our bed felt too soft and too big. Walden stayed in his bed all night, but would end up on top of the covers with his head at the bottom of the bed away from the pillows. There were so many unfamiliar sounds—a train, clocks ticking, an air conditioner, the toilet flushing. Ever since he was a baby, Walden has fallen asleep to the sound of rain from a sound machine. In the Burro, we simulated this by playing rain sounds on an iPad which helped us all sleep well. Now that we’re home, Walden has his sound machine back in his room. I’ve had to use the iPad in our room several nights in order to sleep.

Still smiling on the final miles of the trip
(he drove all 18,500 of them)

The house feels so full of stuff. We wonder why we have all this stuff. Both Jim and I have found ourselves wanting to purge and simplify now that we are back. Walden, on the other hand, is loving having all his toys back. It feels like we are living in a toy store and every day he discovers something new he had forgotten about. In hindsight, I should have stashed most of his toys away and he would never have noticed they were gone.

I'm trying to freeze an entire summer’s worth of produce to make up for lost time. Friends have generously shared their produce and I’ve gone to the farmer’s market for more. Walden and I picked raspberries to freeze and we’ll be going to the apple orchard soon. I love the harvest season in Wisconsin.  

Deciding what to do first has been a challenge. I still haven’t made a list. I just tackle whatever is in front of me first. Getting groceries and toilet paper were priority. Then there are dentist, doctor, and chiropractor appointments to make up for being gone. Oh, and we are considering preschool two days a week, so I need to figure that out. My attempt at unpacking was a failure because every time I picked something up, I was interrupted by something more pressing. Finally, I just took our huge mess from the car and Burro into the basement and said I'll deal with it later.

One final selfie on the road

One thing I’ve noticed since being back is that it is much easier for me to leave the chores behind and spend time having fun with Walden. I used to tell him— after the dishes are done or the laundry is on the line. Now I leave the piles behind and we go to the park. Those other things will wait. I also find myself taking time to stop and rest when I need to. Usually it is in the form of watching the birds in the birdbath out front or sitting to write this blog. I’ve noticed I’m better able to deal with Walden when he is tired than I used to be. I can tell when his behavior is driven by the need to rest and give him leeway or more patience. All of these shifts make me feel like a better mother, so I hope I can hold on to them and not fall back into old patterns.

Life in the Burro was so much simpler. There was no bathroom to clean or flowerbeds to weed. I knew exactly where everything was, within arm’s reach or a few steps away. I know we’ll settle into a new normal again. Somehow I want to find a way to bring as much of our Burro life into this house—simplicity, time outdoors, spending time together, gratitude. All those things are still in us, we just have to be careful not to let them get buried under all this “stuff.” Stuff being both the physical items we don’t use, as well as the stuff (worry, stress, commitments) that gets in the way of what is real.