That's probably more like it.
One year ago, we loaded up two cars and a trailer and headed to the Rockies with a 3-month-old, a 4-year-old and my sister. My sister was only along for the ride of course. She didn't stay which was unfortunate and sad, but she has her own life in Seattle.
We left secure jobs that made us feel happy and satisfied and challenged us. We left good friends who made us laugh, supported us, took care of our kids, made us dinners and challenged us. We left my family. Granted, they were three hours away but that is a hell of a lot closer than Colorado. We left a bike racing community and a Ski Patrol community. We left security.
We also left the rain and city living and long commutes behind.
All of that said, would we go back?
Probably not.
When anyone asks me about the move and our transition, I am always honest. We love it here, but this past year was hard. Like, really freaking HARD.
When we first moved, Tygh did not sleep well and Hazel didn't sleep well because Tygh didn't. As anyone with children will attest, sleep deprivation multiplies any stressors you are experiencing by a factor of 10. At least.
So we had that going for us. And then there was Brian's job. On a scale of 1 to 10, his stress level was at 267. No joke. And there was my job. Going from a well-established, respected professional career to a non-existent one has been difficult.
And that's a mild word to describe it. I could go in to in multiple blog posts but I won't because you don't need to hear me whine and also, you don't want to watch me cry. That might make you- and me-uncomfortable.
It was good times last winter, for sure.
The thing was though, it WAS good times. Eliminating our commutes gave us so much more time in our days, even if Brian did work more hours. Reducing that commute to the mountain and riding a free bus made all of us more relaxed and happier. Mountain biking world-class trails out our front door put perma-grins on our faces and made us giddy. Walking and biking everywhere in town we needed to go made us feel self-sufficient and pleased. Meeting our own bike and ski tribes made us feel that we belonged.
And the sun. Oh the sun. Seeing the sun and feeling it on our faces every day convinced us that we can never live in a rainy place again.
It was a year of extreme highs and extreme lows. We sacrificed a lot to be here. Was it worth it?
The vast majority of the time, yes. I never want to sit in my car, watching brake lights in endless rows ahead of me, just so I can go to work. I have zero plans to ever ski in the rain again. I must live next to amazing mountain bike trails. The ski hill must offer free transportation or be across the street from my house.
Yes, I am spoiled.
But every time I face a wall or a disappointment in my job search, I want to run away. Many small doors have been opening to me and I have scampered through those doors as quickly as I could and put 110% in to those opportunities. I teach Spanish twice a week after school to an amazing group of kids. On Fridays, I teach at Hazel's school and every Friday, I am inspired and encouraged by what transpires there.
But if we're being honest, I need more. I want to put Tygh in daycare more often, for him and for me. Being a stay-at-home mom was never my gig. I want to engage professionally with more people. I want to be challenged more regularly.
I am a big fan of TED Radio Hour on NPR and I have now listened to their show "To the Edge" three times (if you haven't listened to it, I highly recommend you download the podcast). All of the speakers in that show essentially say the same thing: Without adversity, it is impossible to grow.
All of the speakers are right. Without adversity, we would never be forced to get creative and innovative. Without adversity, we would stagnate. I try to view the job situation as one that is temporary and good opportunity to re-evaluate myself and my goals.
The rest of the time though? We freaking love it here. Here are some pictures that explain it better than I ever could.
