I’m not going to lie. The first day on my own in Newport was hard. When I moved to Lynchburg I went from getting married to going on our honeymoon to starting my new teaching job. It seemed life would never slow down, and really, it didn’t. So it was hard not to think of everything we had left behind. This crazy journey we had been preparing for over the last few months had come to a screeching halt and reality was setting in. A reality that included a twin air mattress to sleep on because Ryan had confused the terms “twin” and “double.” By the time the mattress was unrolled and the mistake was realized, the store was closed and what could we do. I couldn’t help but laugh as Ryan tried to figure out why the picture on the box showed a much bigger mattress than the one laying on the floor in front of him. It was around 3:00 in the morning when we realized that the one furnace in the house was not working. A very cold Abigail made for even tighter conditions on our luxurious air mattress. Morning came, Ryan went off to work, and I was left with nothing it seemed except for a very cold house, a very cranky baby, and a very needy Newfie. It was camping at best with the movers not expected to arrive until Wednesday. I was optimistic, I would spend most of the morning running errands and when Abigail went down for her long nap I would be able to clean most, if not all, of this little house. The errands which would have take several hours in Lynchburg, took an hour, if that. I stopped by the rental company to see about the furnace. “Did you know the furnace is not working at the house on 11th?” “Did you have the gas turned on?” Nope. Whoops. I got back into my car and felt the tears that were surely on their way. How could I have been so stupid, but more than that I was embarrassed. I drove the mile back to our house and realized that it was 10:30. Now what? I tried to put Abigail in her pack-n-play for some “play” so I could put some things away or at least get started on cleaning. I couldn’t even lay her down before she grabbed my neck and started screaming. A pattern that continued well through her long nap time. I alternated between sitting on the fireplace and walking around the house trying to comfort her. As I walked, I wondered how everything on that moving truck was going to fit into this tiny space. It wouldn’t and I already knew that. But suddenly it felt like all of those boxes were pressing down on me. A big gust of wind came and knocked over the 6 foot piece of fence on the side of the house. Hank was bounding around desperately needing exercise, or at least a potty break, and Abigail was still crying and holding on to me for dear life. I was lonely and sad and I really needed a friend at that moment to call and say, “I am having the worst day ever.” But I couldn’t pick up the phone without choking up. I had been feeling so positive as we drove across the country and I hated that I was already wishing I was back in Lynchburg. I took a walk around the neighborhood and tried to memorize the order of the streets. We walked until Hank sat his big booty down on the sidewalk and refused to move. And I laughed. As the laughter poured out of me I realized that as foreign as it seemed to be in this new community, some things would never change. In a couple days we would feel more settled. We would be able to make a meal in our kitchen. Abigail would have her favorite rocking chair back. The gas would be turned on. And we wouldn’t have to sleep on that twin mattress.