A long while back, I went to a headhunter to find a job. We were chatting and she said three of the most stressful things people can go through in this modern age are changing jobs, relocating, and getting married. She mentioned this because her daughter did all three at once. Sounds to me like when I had all four wisdom teeth removed at the same time. I did, however, live through it (and gain a terrific appreciation for hydrocodone) and I’m glad I had it done. It wasn’t fun at the time but I’ve probably saved myself a lot of dental pain in the future.
We’re almost there. The move happens on Friday, three days ahead of schedule, since we’d originally planned on the 8th. Cable and phone are scheduled to be switched over, and the movers will be there between 8 and 10. I told John, since everything will already be at the house on Friday afternoon, we can probably take our after-moving showers in the house rather than the condo. (Trust me, this moving is sweaty business.)
I scraped the frost off my car this morning and I wondered how much frost we’ll get in the new house. What’ll it be like walking out the back door, out the kitchen and down the walkway to where the car will be parked in an alley. Having to go upstairs to wake the boys in two separate rooms. (After what I saw in Alex’s closet last night, I’m very afraid of what it’ll be like, trying to open his bedroom door to get into his room to find, uh, wake him. Yelling upstairs to get them to shake a leg, because we’ll have to leave a little early to get to the buses until we know what the new bus schedule will be.
It’s all scary stuff. I keep looking at the kitchen and the pantry/closet and as much as I like the new layout, I know it’s not going to stay that way. Over time we’ll figure out what routine works and what doesn’t. All unknown stuff that we can’t predict ’til we get there. They say “getting there is half the fun”, but that’s not necessarily so. Not when you’re turning your life upside down.
I’m looking forward to when things settle out. When the boys know where they put their backpacks and jackets. When I can find the coffee without opening every cabinet. When I get comfortable with my spot on the couch. (I’m so used to being cloistered in my own little space; either the recliner or the busted-up loveseat was “my spot”, but the couch has SO much space, I’m either going to have to learn to share or learn to take up more room. Given that I haven’t exercised in a while, the latter should be less of a problem.) When I know, “I have to leave NOW or I’m going to be really late for work.” When I can be home for fifteen minutes and know without a doubt where I left my purse/keys/work computer. When the washer/dryer works without a hitch. (Note to self: find an Admiral repair person.)
But I do love that house. Okay, so when you turn the lights on, the kitchen looks like noon at the Mojave (I need to take out a few of those overhead lights), but it’s a warm, comfy place that feels like home. My yarn is a few steps away, not a 1/2 hour drive to Colmar. (I can’t wait to organize that mess.) The boys have their own spaces that they’ve already started putting their distinct personal brand on. (Alex’s room smells like bubble gum and BO.) I’d bet money that they’ll still be going to each other’s rooms, saying, “Did you see such-and-such is on TV?” (Alex won’t be forced to watch National Geographic anymore, nor will he be sitting in the bathroom with his CD player just so he can have some private time.) And John’s basement is going to be a sports memorabilia paradise. Cooperstown might just ask to borrow a few things. 😉 Which reminds me, I have some Christmas presents to order…
I’m told I have a “new” reader. Hi, honey! 🙂