Leaving Santa Barbara...

In a way I've been afraid to blog for a while now... Because I know myself so well. I know how attached I get to my stories and that once they are typed I cannot NOT post them. And I've been crazy terrified of what stories I might decide to type. It's like I'm scared of our truth and the messiness of life and the last year because I haven't wanted to hurt or offend anyone.

Part of being married to a pastor, even being just the proverbial "youth pastor's wife" is knowing when to shut up. This is something that comes with the territory and has never been exactly in my wheel house.

I am going to write this from my perspective as a wife, mom, business owner, friend and lover of Jesus.

The last 8 months have been hard for us. Like tears and snot dripping from the nose hard (well that part's mainly been me).

Ending 2013 in Orcutt and starting 2014 in Santa Barbara, Shawn and I felt like we had the world at our finger tips. We may have been leaving our beloved Orcutt... A town we had grown fond of over 5 years; birthed both babies in, purchased a home in and had made life-long friends in... But we were moving to a place with "city life", the beach as our front yard and back in to the church denomination we came from- all things we yearned for.

The idea of Santa Barbara seemed perfect... Everything was looking up for us and the possibilities seemed endless. Location wise, it was an hour closer to our family in LA and it wasn't far from our friends in Orcutt- a win win all around.

Fast forward to now, 15 months later and bluntly put: Santa Barbara hasn't worked out for us. I feel like when I've said that statement to keep things light to those who've asked why we're moving... I get a look of complete bewilderment from a lot of people. Which I get... It's literally a gorgeous place to live (sandwiched between the beach and the mountains). "The Littlest Big City in the World" they say. How could you not be drawn to that, it all sounds likely perfect. Perfect... There is a lot of perfect in this town and well...

We are not perfect. We don't try to be perfect. We embrace the imperfect... Hell, we eat Hot N' Ready Pizza more times a month than I care to admit.

Making friends in this town (and I realize now that we were spoiled before) has been painfully hard. For two extroverts who were used to dinner in groups on average 2 times a week... This has been a downright lonely year for us.

As for the people we do call friends here, I am so thankful to have met you and shared church or Spanish Immersion or feeling like out-casts together. The few friends we've made have been life savers, and I truly mean that- you know who you are.

Overall though... In my 34 years of life, I have never felt like more of an outcast since moving here. It has rocked my confidence level in ways I can't explain. Walking in to my daughter's preschool has at times given me something a little short of a panic attack. Not that I don't love the teachers and the actual program... But going to the school has been like living in the movie Mean Girls. And I can't sit with them, just trust me. (Don't worry- they don't know I have a blog).

Moving on!

As much as I love our cute little bungalow home... Living in it the last 6 months has been the most one of the most unideal set ups a family of four (+ dog + classic car) could imagine. A few months after we moved in the house was sold to a new owner who decided adding a third house in between the front house (ours) and the back house would be a great idea. Our garage was torn down and we were completely stripped of our adorable backyard as scaffolding went up in it to build the new home. Yes, you can practically touch the home being built from our back porch. If you knew how much rent we paid for the area of Santa Barbara we live in, you'd likely laugh at us. And please don't ask why we didn't just buy a house... Google "Santa Barbara housing prices" for that answer. I don't want to say it was NEVER going to happen... but there was a 99.999% chance of that never ever happening. Like, ever.

My business has not "taken off" like we were sure it would. If anything- people from Orcutt like missed me or something and my clientele picked up there. Oh... The irony! I couldn't get people in Santa Barbara to hire me to save my life this last year. It is a very loyal customer base- if I heard this once I heard it a million times. "Once you're in, you're in"... "Give it three years" and "donate parties to the rich people"... Welp. No. None of those are going to work. It hasn't happened and it's been incredibly humbling.

Lastly... The job (Youth Pastor) Shawn came for. While in the end, Santa Barbara has not been the fit we were hoping for... I've learned a lot about my faith through the church and will never regret our decision to come here because of that.

As some of you know I was raised in a charismatic/fundamentalist church. In my late 20's and early 30's I came to resent so much of that fact. I decided I wanted to be, "the opposite kind of Christian" as the church I was raised in. I settled on loving God but [without realizing it completely] hating most Christians. I switched political parties, I stopped doing "cliche Christian things" (like Beth Moore studies)... I made a point to let people know that I was not one of "them". I became bitter towards "the Home School Christians", "the No-Harry-Potter-Christians", "The No-Santa Christians"... It is something I still struggle with but have come a long way with in the last year.

The church we came to Santa Barbara for did something no other church I've attended has done. It showed me a side of Christianity I wanted... And it did it in a healthy way. There wasn't hate or even strife towards the more conservative home-schooling, Santa, Christians... It just wasn't even in the culture of the church. The church embraced deep issues (much too deep for this blog) I hadn't seen Christians at a church I'd attended care about yet.

The problem is... I also learned this year that deep down in my soul- I am still a charismatic... Attending a hymn-loving traditional church. I have a NEED to clap my hands and raise them if I feel lead. I cannot control these aspects of my being, I try to and I fail. If you gave me a flag I cannot promise I would not wave that bad boy in to the air like I just don't care! (Well, maybe not now- but give me 30 years and I AM that lady).

Somehow (God probably had something to do with it) being in a liturgical church the last year has not made me bitter or hateful- it's just opened my eyes to the fact that there are indeed MANY different ways to worship. None is "right"... Just so so different.

I feel like this year has helped Shawn and I figure out our place in ministry and where God is calling us. This has not been an easy decision, if you knew how much I HATED moving you would understand even more how hard of a decision this was to make. It has come with tears and disagreements, utter confusion and so much prayer...

In the end we've decided to return home to the South Bay (Los Angeles) this summer and figure out our next steps there.

We have a road trip lined up after Cormac graduates Kinder- and we're planning to visit lots of friends all over the place. Cormac is on 3 Spanish Immersion waiting lists in the South Bay (none that will top his current school, Adalante Charter School!) and we're prayerful that the Lord will line something up after we return from the road.

If you think of us, we covet your prayers for strength in our marriage during the move (!!!), clarity with our next employment steps... and for our kids to not be totally screwed up from all of this moving.

We're excited for the next journey and looking forward to being near both of our families (babysitters galore, amen hallelujah) and connecting with all of our old friends and introducing our kids to their kids.

We're coming for you LA... I hope you're ready ;)

The O'Briens

(I've got to say that our landlord giving us a 60 Day Notice last night- with a move-out date of exactly Shawn's last day of work... Kind of a nice reminder that we're on the right track. Don't ever ask God for signs if you don't want them... Noted.)

Forget Play Dates, I'm Looking For Mom Dates.

Let me just get the obvious out of the way- I don't know how military wives do it. They're fantastic human beings made up of flexibility and emotional stability. They do not sit around and wonder about things like if so and so is hanging out with so and so... (because- really, they weren't even friends before I introduced them...)

I digress. Yes, I'm back on the subject of moving. It's been 3 months since we moved and wow- moving... well- in a nut shell- I'm still in shock I think. I blogged on the subject pretty soon after we moved- and I'm just back to confirm, yep- moving still sucks.

Although I don't regret our choice to uproot our family, sell our house and move an hour back in to civilization (aka: a big city), it does not take the sting out of any of it. The sting of leaving what you knew to be home for over five years is... I'm going to admit it- harder than I thought it would be.

Some of the sting comes from feeling it through my kids (my 5 year old) and some of it is just plain missing things the way they were.

While there are days I do miss our house, our yard, even our chickens... These things don't occupy my mind the way my friends do. This move has taught me that I really valued the friendships I'd made in those five years.

Not to say I haven't made any friends in my new town, I've made a few that I'm loving getting to know. The difference is I'm used to having a gaggle of them- a crew that all knew each other and hung out- who's kids all loved each other because they'd been friends since they were babies. That is what I'm missing. It was ideal and I didn't realize how amazing it was, foolish me.

The things we take for granted...

Disclaimer: I have never had a problem making friends- ever. There have been times I've wondered how the hell I got so many friends and tried figuring out ways to un-attach myself to a few. I remember meeting my friend Brette 10 years ago (my military wife moving-hero) and telling her that, "I'm not really in the market for new friends." (I mean, seriously- WHO SAYS THAT?!) Oh to have such a problem former self. Former annoying self.

Moving not only means giving up houses and neighborhoods and grocery stores and the local burger joint- it means meeting new friends. Dating new friends I should say. Wondering if you're going to get "that second play date text" or if it just wasn't a match- with the moms, the kids, the schedules... AHHHH! The stars need to align in order to get that text.

In thinking about finding new friends I've realized that like with regular dating- I have a few prerequisites. At this stage of the game, I actually have quite a few. I'm a high maintenance friend dater- there I've given you fair warning.

So in an ode to moving and attempting to make new friends that I will like as much as my old friends, I have put together this personal ad... You know, in case you wanted to pass it on to any Santa Barbara moms out there you may know... By chance.

Here we go!

Looking to meet moms with likeable children ages 2-7 who know how to throw a good tantrum from time to time (for solidarities sake). Moms that love their children -obviously- but who don't necessary feel like they're killing it with the whole mom-thing... You know, like you're actually really excited for Kindergarten. Or work. Or both.

On any regular day we should be able to talk fashion, kid fashion (preferably Harajuku Mini and what Easter outfit ideas we have coming down the pike), home décor (you must be able to get excited about things like a new Ikea rug purchase), blogs, social media, how annoying the husband can be (a non-negotiable) as well as talk about celebrities as if they're our friends- because it's pretty much only a matter of time, right?



No "helicopter moms" need apply, I'm your worst nightmare and it just won't be a good match. I'm not saying your kid is running in the street during rush hour... but practically. I'd like to be able to sit with you and talk about life and how we don't understand why every other kid is Gluten Free- without you getting up 5,000x to check and see if, "the kids are getting along". Even if the kids aren't getting along- do I look concerned? Let them figure it out. I'm not trying to run a 2 year old's play time for our entire play date- which in my head I'm definitely referring to as a Mom Date.

It's a major plus if you like to shop. Places like TJMaxx, Ross and Home Goods are my stomping grounds. Doing things like splitting the costs on a sitter while the husband is at work so we can get out and score a few deals- ya, that kind of crazy is right up my alley.

Coffee is good too- kids love coffee shop play dates, right? Taco Bell? You're talking soul mate material now. I like quick, easy and cheap all rolled in to one. We're not getting together to cook a gourmet dinner while we sip wine, that's for sure. Don't mistake me for classy.

As we get to know each other, feel free to wear sweats and your paint splattered sweatshirt to my house if you're feeling it. I don't want to always have to look great around you either so this really levels the playing field. I mean, don't get crazy and meet me somewhere in sweats or anything- we have to maintain some shred of decency- but feel free to be makeup-free after a handful of Mom Dates if it's just us.

Please have a sense of humor. I hate non-funny people. Like, how were you born without a sense of humor? It's so sad and I'm not trying to have a charity case on my hands ok...

Last thing- a love of the party. Since this is what I do, it's really helpful if you love a good party. You don't have to be amazing at it but please no, "I hate celebrating birthdays!" That crap is just weird.

In closing- I'm kind of awesome and I'm just looking for some equally awesome ladies to bond with- is that too much to ask?

xo Party or Die xo

Kenna

Moving. It Kind of Sucks.

We moved and I haven't blogged in forever, again. It's been the farthest thing from my mind because I've just been in survival mode. Moving Survival Mode.

No matter how much you want to move, are excited to move and need to move- nothing- and I mean nothing can really soften the blow of ACTUALLY moving.

Moving to a new city. Selling a house. New jobs, preschools, churches... Everything's. Ah. Changing.

This move has been hard, that I cannot lie about. Our hardest move yet, for sure. I think if I had remembered how much I don't do well with um, ya pretty much every aspect of moving- I would have realized it wasn't going to be a fun. Instead, I just thought about the things I love, like decorating. And visits to Ikea. And not the things I hate (err, despise) like unpacking random boxes full of things that don't even belong in the same room- let alone box. This is the style of packing you do when you've just given up: throw it all in, hope it doesn't break and slap some tape on the box. You're angry when you're doing it and even more angry (at yourself) when you're unpacking it. Unpacking it is a blunt reminder of how much you procrastinated packing. And that right there is pretty much my entire style of packing. (Incase you don't remember, packing isn't really my "thing".)

I hate chaos, I hate being out of a routine and I hate not knowing where anything is. I like being in control and I hate feeling like a spaz, which- even when I'm in control I am somewhat spazzy- so during a move it's like amplified to a level 11. It was definitely too much for the husband to handle. I locked keys in the house, in the car, in the garage... who knows where? Everyone was over Kenna, even Kenna. Whomp, whomp...

I would go so far as if to say, if people decided to just divorce in the middle of a move- I would not blame them. If they stated on their divorce papers, "We Tried Moving Our Family" instead of "Irreconcilable Differences", I would totally just nod and say, "Ahhh yes, The Move got them- totally..."

And here's the thing- I am not a novice to moving. I may sound like one, but actually in fact I am quite the opposite: I am a habitual mover. Before I was married at age 25, I moved 9 times. Since being married we have moved 8 times. In 7 years. It makes me anxious to even add those two together.

Moving as a single woman was almost a game to me. I had a great job and was kind of, in a way- always looking for a better place to live. Closer to the beach. Bigger. Cheaper. Better roommate. I would move on a whim, and often. I had an Ikea credit card and used it like a gas card. I was always designing new rooms in my head and I can't ever really remember a move actually STRESSING me out. I can remember powering through my living room, bedroom and kitchen in about 48 hours, max.

Moving as a married couple became a little harder, but still- Shawn and I's usual moves were usually to gain space. With almost every move we "upsized"- and there is really nothing that stressful about throwing things in a spare bedroom and closing the door and getting to it when you can.

Now let me tell you some things about this move. We moved to one of the most beautiful places in the world: Santa Barbara, 4 blocks from the strand to be exact. We're moving in to a church denomination we've wanted to be a part of for a long time. The husband is getting a nice raise. And did I mention we're moving back to the beach? We are. We've missed it- although I don't particularly love frolicking in the water, I do love living by the beach and the lifestyle it provides. Lots of major pros for this move. In the midst all of these pros... there's been just one con- if you want to look at it like that... We're downsizing. Fact: to move to Santa Barbara, unless you are Oprah (who lives 10 minutes away) you WILL be downsizing. I won't go in to the logistics about the space but we're missing some serious square footage. 

GOODBYE OLD HOME.

As we finalized our plans to move in to the new house we had to PURGE. I mean amongst the obvious kid's-now-sharing-a-room reality-- the pink couch didn't fit. My beloved pink couch, my baby... There were almost tears.

GOODBYE OLD COUCH.

It took us 2.5 weeks to move in, which I'm sure in the grand scheme of everyone who's ever moved with a family- is like warp speed. In Kenna-time 2.5 weeks is like slow motion... a painful, tortuous slow motion where you can't ever see the light at the end of the tunnel until you have less than 5 boxes left to unpack. I have not had anxiety like I had with this move for a long time, and I forgot how much anxiety sucks. In the midst of the move was Christmas. Who moves during Christmas? Oh ya, we do- twice. Christmas almost killed me. Santa's elves were majorly lagging, especially that damn Elf on the Shelf who gave such a pathetic attempt it wasn't even worth one Instagram photo. I mean, everyone knows if you don't Insta your Elf you've committed a parenting crime! 

I was shopping on Christmas Eve for 75% of my gifts-my heart racing as I was mad about everything, including the fact that I was standing in hour long lines purchasing less than amazing gifts because I couldn't even handle the fact that Christmas decided to show up in the middle of our move. I mean, the nerve. Let me tell you I was NOT feeling the Christmas 2013 spirit. I tried my best to decorate our house around the boxes, just so the kids wouldn't miss out... but nothing was helping this Grinch. I was so happy to de-Christmas- I've never been happier to not see Christmas décor all the more cluttering my already cluttered home. (Should I publicly admitted that last sentence? Probably not.)

I made a pathetic attempt at getting our family's Christmas pics in to one of those annoying "Facebook Christmas card" status updates- something I swore I'd never do. I learned that during a move you are capable of doing things you swore you'd never do.

Aside from the annoyance of unpacking box after box... there is also the emotional aspect of moving. Realizing that the friends you've spent every day with for the past 5 years are all now an hour away- not a block away. When your son is asking you 10x in a day if we can meet our friends at the park or if he can see pictures of our old house- it just makes you sad. And sad people can't unpack, they can only wallow. Wallow in boxes.

Fast forward: As of New Years Eve I declared us "officially moved in" (I had to declare it in order for it to be real, you know?) We even had friends over New Years Day which my kids were beyond excited about. We still don't have a complete back yard (yet) but we're unpacked and comfortable, like we can actually walk through the house without tripping- always a plus! It's crazy because the minute I put away the last box in the bathroom I felt like I could function again. And breathe. And text people back. My tunnel vision for parties is the same with moving- I physically can NOT do anything else except the task at hand.

Enjoy some pics of the new digs... Including the kids new Neverland room which I had a great deal of fun designing.

 

 

THE headboard. If you don't know why I capitalized THE, you missed this post.

 

 

New Years Day!

The kids and I have been exploring the last few days since Shawn's been back to work and I know we're going to love it here. We've found amazing parks and made a trip to Michael's today to get a start on Cormac's 5th birthday party. I still got lost (what is up with these One Way streets?!) and it is still crazy annoying that there is no Target (WTH?) but I can definitely remember why we decided to move here. I mean, we've been the beach alone like 10 times since moving here- thanks to my husband's pleading to get away from "the move". We've discovered elote and helado and they're going to make me go broke!

 

 

 

Sometime soon I plan to blog about our decision to send Cormac to a Spanish Immersion Elementary School this Fall but until then I will be working like a mad woman on his Pop Art Balloon Party- sewing 19 aprons for all of his little artist friends! See- I'm back to my normal self ;)

 

To follow the Pop Art Balloon Party fun- come follow me on Instagram!

xo Party or Die xo

kenna