It’s official. We’re moving. To East Texas. I’m half excited and half terrified.

Everything is about to change and we, as a family, are going to have to make some major adjustments. First, I am a city girl by every definition of the word. My time is in the country-side has been limited to my undergrad years and living in a bonafide college town is just not the same as ranch life…..cows and chickens and horses….ranch.life.

I will also be moving 3 hours further away from my family and that’s going to be hard. Also, what does it look like to move with 2 kids? A mess, I’m sure. Just the process of boxing has been more than I’d like to deal with right now.

We explained to Makenzie and RJ that we are moving to “the ranch house” and they couldn’t be happier. It’s freedom and outdoor voices and animals and adventure hikes; they are more excited than my husband and that’s saying a lot.

I figured it was time. We have been in Houston for a long time, thanks to me. When we first got married, Red’s plan was to move me from San Antonio, where I was living while we were dating, to Marshall. I went along, attempting to be a good sport because that’s what supportive wives do. Red was the family’s ranch manager when we met and started dating so it really wasn’t far fetched that I’d end up on the ranch if things got serious. Ah, love young and the tendency to not (realistically) think too far into the future.

New living room furniture was bought, a nursery was put together — all that jazz. And then….I changed my mind. Country life “wasn’t for me”, I was in the midst of starting my Masters degree at TAMU through the online course and the internet sucked on the ranch. I was too far from my parents and my friends who were still currently in San Antonio. I just wanted out. Luckily, Red has mobility in life, working for his family, so he transferred to a position within the family business that allowed him to be in Houston. And so we moved.

That was over 5 years ago.

At the beginning of the year, Red and I were driving around, running errands one day and we started talking about our long-term plans. At this point, I had graduated with my Masters, had worked full-time with the NBA and gotten settled into my Stay-at-Home Mom position. Red, on the other hand, was still stuck in the same position he had been in when we initially moved.

I’ll be honest, I’m a hard person to please. I’m a pusher. If I see potential, in myself or in my parter, I don’t rest well until it’s realized. That has been one of my many roles in my marriage: not wanting my husband to settle for doing what he’s doing because we are comfortable. We talked about what he wanted to do and the passion and excitement I heard in his voice while he was talking about the ranch made me feel a little guilty. But why?

And then I had an epiphany: He had moved away from the ranch for me. He had all these big ideas for the ranch. He moved to make me happy and then (I guess) I just expected him to transfer his passions to something else. Of course I had realized all of my goals and he was in the same spot. So I asked, “Do you want to move back to the ranch?”

One month later we made the official decision to do it and we have been planning it out ever since. And the time is here! We are doing it. It is happening.

I am trading in all of my pumps and purses for rain boots and overalls. WHAT?! It’s fine. My husband has a new pep in his step.

This is going to be good.

 

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