Green and Gold and Totally Sold

Shuffling around under my sink tonight I found a bottle of volumizing mousse that I haven’t touched since I spontaneously tried competing for Miss Wisconsin USA 10 years ago. For those curious, I did awful.  Didn’t even land in the top 15. But the other pageant girls did teach me how to duct tape my butt up to look cute and cellulite-free in a bikini, so I consider the whole ordeal a win. I chuckled thinking that I have dragged that mousse, and how many other things, all over the country for the past 12 years as Nick and I jumped careers and states.

About two years ago this week, we were living our best lives in Kentucky when Nick got the call about a move to Wisconsin. “Absolutely not” – at least I assume this was my response. All I remember is being blinded by panic. I had spent 5 years in Geebz straight out of college and always felt like I couldn’t wait to leave. Although my life here improved tenfold when I met Nick and he moved cross-country for me, I still despised this city.  I left town in 2016 with my Ford Escape (Hermie, affectionately) packed to the brim. I flicked off the smokestacks that peppered the view from the 172 bridge and never looked back.

Jokes on me.

Nick and I spent the summer of 2022 in constant conversation about whether or not we should take the chance and come back to Wisconsin. The job opportunity was incredible; but so was our life in Kentucky. We couldn’t reason our way into a decision that felt right, so we turned to prayer.

Nick had a commitment of attending eucharistic adoration at our church at 5AM every Friday morning.  One day he came back and said he’d finally gotten clarity. He experienced an overwhelming peace when he thought about a vision of blue and two people standing next to each other– and he flashed me a picture of the Kentucky flag.  “We’re supposed to stay here. I’ll turn the job down tomorrow”.

Well, wasn’t he surprised when I pulled up the Wisconsin state flag and revealed two people. Standing next to each other. On a blue flag.  God has got a sense of humor. 

After a few months that summer with no concrete clarity, we decided the best option was to take the job. We figured the kids were little, we were young, our family was mobile… if the move went horribly and we hated it up North, we had time to figure it out. We could move back. But moving to Wisconsin on those terms felt awful. Not one ounce of me wanted to leave the Bluegrass. I’ve never cried so much and slept so little in my life.

In September, the house hunting trip came due. As we set off on our flights, I prayed a very specific prayer. “God, I know you might not be able to tell me exactly what the right choice is on this move. But if I’m about to make the wrong choice, please, show me. Make me so physically ill that I can’t ignore it”. On the first day of our trip, I took off to Appleton while Nick and the girls palled around Green Bay. With every house I entered, I felt worse. My skin crawled, my head hurt. It was getting more intense every minute.  By the time I made it back to our hotel that night I just wanted to curl up and puke. I got my answer. We weren’t supposed to be here. But, oh shit. We already accepted the job. I gathered myself together, put on a smile for the kids, and set off to meet Nick and the girls for dinner.

I walked in to Hagermeister Park and saw Nick smiling from ear to ear. Mina was dancing on a chair to the live music and Zary was pummeling down cheese curds and laughing. “This is the best place ever!” Zary was in love. She talked non-stop about the playgrounds they found, the river that runs through town, the food, the cows. She was in Heaven. Nick was beaming. Mina was vibing.  Safe to say we had all had very different feelings about the move after day one…

I mustered up a happy face, and the next morning we set out as a family to look at homes in Green Bay. “God, I know what I asked for yesterday. And I felt it. But how can Nick and I be so far apart on this? I need more clarity today. I need more. Please, I just have to know if this is right for our family.”

The first home we looked at had a nearly identical floorplan to our home in Kentucky. Something about being in it took the edge off my nerves. I felt my stomach relax and I started to breathe again.

The second home we visited was one I’d already written off. I didn’t like the style, there was a big empty field behind it, it was too far from the park. Hard pass. But as I stepped into the foyer, something just felt like love. Nick and I looked at each other and my eyes filled up. I didn’t actually have to see any more of the house. I knew in an instant we were going to buy it.  By the time I came back to reality, my usually shy Velcro-like children were already upstairs on their own picking out bedrooms. Then they were in the backyard catching grasshoppers. Then they were naming the playroom and Zary was doing somersaults in the hallway. They’d felt it too.

The boomerang of emotions I’d experienced in 24 hours was hard to stomach.  So, I begged for more. “God, I know we’re supposed to buy this house. But why? I thought we’re not supposed to be here. Please, I need more answers.”

We looked up the closest Catholic Church to the house and decided to pop in for Saturday afternoon mass. The priest was young and relatable… and he gave an entire homily on finding home. He spoke of how after work we look forward to coming home at the end of a long day. When the holidays arrive, we can’t wait to return home to the house we grew up in. At the end of our lives, we will return home to God in Heaven. But while we’re here on earth, let’s spend more time at the home we have within our church. Father Ben went on to explain that there at St. Mary’s, he likes to make sure his parishioners take time to honor one of the most overlooked holy days (and one of his favorite days) of the entire year – The Assumption of Mary. It happens yearly on August 15th.

August 15th.  The day both of our daughters were born on. The most special day of the year in our home.

I bawled in the back pew of that church after mass. Nick and I called up the real estate agent and placed an offer on the home immediately.

While we now had explicit clarity over God’s intent for us with the move, we still had all the emotions to digest.  The biggest hurdle for me was that we had been expecting to try for baby #3 that fall in Kentucky.  I remember sitting in the hotel with Nick that night and sighing… “I know we have the answer now. But I’m just still so sad. I love Kentucky. And I really felt ready for another baby. But that home is so big. To furnish it and paint it… It’s going to take so much effort. And time. I can’t handle that while pregnant. I can’t be pregnant and deal with a move and doing the painting and buying all that furniture. We’re going to have to wait on having another baby until the house is finished. I’m so sorry.”

The agent called us back. “The sellers are curious if you would want them to leave behind any of the furniture or décor or anything that you saw? It’s all up for grabs. They don’t want any of it.”

As I sit here at their (now my) kitchen table, and I’m watching our sweet baby #3 asleep on the monitor – that wonderful chubby baby that we ended up not having to wait even a minute longer for after all – I’m so overwhelmed at how God’s plan works out. And I’m so grateful. And we’re so blessed.

This city is different for us now. Maybe it’s actually better than it was a decade ago. Or maybe it’s that we’re here with kids. Or maybe it’s just that we leaned on God and not ourselves and our logic. Maybe we should do that more often.

If anyone sees me at the parade in De Pere tomorrow, know that I did in fact use that 10-year-old mousse I found tonight. Not sure if I’m going to wake up with awesome Texas Hair (you know what they say – the higher the hair the closer to Heaven) or totally bald from lathering my scalp in expired chemicals. Sometimes I like to play roulette.  Probably best if I save that for Oneida and not for my beauty and grooming.