Deep Breath, this might be enough

We are three days into Phase 1 of this downsizing process. Grammy, the kid, me, and the pets are all staying at a local extended stay hotel. This rather abrupt transition is occasioned by the miraculous, if inconvenient, speed with which we sold our house. It is bad karma to complain about the inconvenience of a real estate miracle occurring during the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression. So rather than wait for more suitable timing, I jumped at the offer and informed my family that we were moving out of our  four bedroom, three bath home, with a huge backyard into a little 2-bedroom hotel suite near the main highway.

I'll admit that I have been terrified about this part of the move. For years I have prided myself on my ability to provide a certain standard of living for my mom and my daughter.  I've even been proud of the quality of life I provide my pets. Not, that we live lavishly. In fact, our home, car and travel are pretty modest compared with many in an area as affluent as Princeton. I certainly did not qualify as a cast member of The Real Housewives! But even as a sole breadwinner I rarely said "no" to my family. If my daughter outgrew her bike, I bought a new one, even if it wasn't near her birthday or Christmas. If my mom wanted to plant a new hedge of laurel bushes in the yard, I just called the nursery and had them deliver the plants she wanted. If we were heading out of town, I scheduled for a posh pet care service that walked the dogs, fed the cats, and even spent the night at our house to keep all the fur faces company. If a friend called in need of a couple hundred dollars, I dropped it in the mail without a second thought. 

Having grown up with a single mom who often had to say no because she was unemployed or under-employed I took great pride in rarely having to deny myself or my loved ones these life-easing comforts. This kind of consumption made me feel like a successful adult, even if it came at the cost of growing debt and shrinking savings. So I panicked when I realized we would all have to move into a hotel for a few weeks. The house has sold but we can't move to New Orleans yet. I still have campus responsibilities; Grammy still has community committee assignments; and Parker needs to get through a few more weeks of school before a mid-year transition. We had no house, but needed to stay in town. 

So on Thursday I packed our bags, loaded the pets into their carriers, and drove us to the hotel. I expected Parker to be crestfallen by the tiny space. I bit my lower lip thinking about Grammy's response to the the tiny efficiency kitchen. I felt that I failed my family. 

I opened the door to our suite, Parker screamed, "oh my gosh, I love it! Does that couch turn into a bed? Yeeesssss! That means I have a TV in my bedroom, ha!" Grammy said, "wow, look the kitchen has a full size fridge. No problem, I'm going make great meals here."  Even my spoiled pets seem to love the place. Check the picture at the top of this post, where my kitty, Halo, has taken to walking along the loft area like a feline acrobat. 

As I write this post Grammy and Parker are playing Go Fish on the little two-seater couch. No one seems to notice that all of our "stuff" is sitting in boxes back at the house, waiting to be loaded onto a moving van tomorrow. No one seems angry with me for providing less than stellar views or perfectly appointed rooms. A little snuggle on a little couch on a Sunday afternoon seems to be enough. 

Deep breath.