We moved last week, guys!
Just a couple towns over, but still — moving is an ORDEAL.
This whole thing started in June when I noticed a cute little house for sale on the river, and took a ride by, just for kicks.
I do this all the time – scope out real estate, cruise’ around town, stalking up and down alleys in my minivan, dreaming about our future home. (A couple months ago, I drove down an alley and there was a giant hog basking in a small fenced yard right in the middle of town. Whaaa?)
When I spotted the river house, though, I parked the van at the end of the dead end street, facing the back yard, and I just got this feeling. You know the one. Something is right. Something is happening. What you’re seeing has somehow become part of you already.
I drove away with a skippy heart and a what-if brain, but honestly, I thought it would be a long shot for our home in town to sell before the river house was snatched up. It would take a miracle.
THEN, in early July, we found out some friends of ours had to move like RIGHT NOW, within the month, and they were hoping to find a three-bedroom family-friendly home in the little town we happened to live in. Our three-bedroom had a fenced in yard perfect for their kids and dog, and was just a few blocks from the school their daughter would attend in the fall.
They came to check out our house one evening, and I’m pretty sure they got the feeling too.
After that, stuff started happening FAST. Bank visits. Paperwork. Offers. Appraisals. Inspections. Approvals. Paperwork. Insurance calls. Paperwork. Well water samples. Acquisition of boxes – so many boxes.
Was this really happening?
We barely had all the PAPERWORK filled out before Chad had to go out of town for a week, and I wasn’t even sure if this was all going to jive, but I started sorting, purging, and packing nonetheless! It was quite a week.
Six years ago, when we’d moved into the town house, Gray was three months old. I remember thinking that moving with an infant was tough. I had to wear him around in the backpack. I had take breaks to nurse him. I had to sweet-talk him as he sat contentedly in his bouncy chair, watching the boxes go by.
Well let me just say that THAT whole thing was a walk in a sunshiney park compared to moving with a two, four, and six year old! Even though the boys were pretty excited about the idea of a giant new backyard with woods and trails nearby, they had some issues to work through.
Gray became tearful a few times a day. He was really going to miss our neighbors, especially Mr. Rob (which made me tearful too because we truly DID have the nicest neighbors in town).
Miles wasn’t overly concerned about anything except that I was packing his toys and trinkets. He trailed behind me for ten days unpacking every bag, box, and tote before I had a chance to tape them up.
Reed delved into cross-examination mode.
Are my dinosaurs coming with us to the new house?
Is my Minion toothbrush coming with us to the new house?
Are the Squigz coming with us to the new house?
Yes, Reed, it’s ALL coming with us. Every Lego. Every action figure. Every dreadful Nerf dart.
After a couple weeks of hustling and packing and figuring, moving weekend was HERE. A slew of friends and family rallied to help us (it took a village, let me tell you) as we made umpteen trailer-pulling runs between the old place and the new place.
The evening before closing day, Faith and Cory stopped by to help us finish up gathering odds and ends (after a much-needed haven’t-eaten-since-breakfast pizza run).
There was a lot of
random crap miscellaneous stuff around the house yet, and we were fresh out of boxes. (This is what happens when you move YOURSELVES. You think you’ve gathered enough containers to house all of your possessions, but until you are MOVING, you have no idea how many POSSESSIONS you own. Did you know that there are people called MOVERS who will wrap and package all of your POSSESSIONS and bring them to your new house FOR YOU? We didn’t use these folks because we are broke tightwads frugal, but I would recommend that if you are moving and you have an extra couple’a grand sitting around, you give it to the friendly folks at the moving company.)
So that evening, Faith and Cory and Chad and I chucked stuff into grocery bags and trash bags and threw it in the back of the trailer. Heck, at one point, we weren’t even bagging it. We were just sling-shotting it in.
This is moving, people.
At the beginning of the packing efforts, you are all neat and labeled and organized. You have rolls of bubble wrap and scotch tape on hand. By the end, you are stuffing a bag of maxi pads, a Golden Girls DVD, a tape measure and an immersion blender into a Target bag and tying that puppy shut before alley-ooping it into the U-Haul. When you go to sleep that night, you have no covers, because you used all your blankies to pad boxes and wrap art and clocks and frames.
(Why, yes, that is an NKOTB blanket, circa 1992. What can I say? I am a collector of fine things.)
SOMEHOW, you guys, all of our belongings made it to the new house. It took dozens of kind and generous people to wrangle our kids and dog and piano and furniture (which reminds me — if you’re not going to invest in movers, at least invest in a FOREARM FORKLIFT. I laughed at my husband when he brought it home. He’s the one laughing now. That thing saved all our– um, lumbars).
So I’m sitting in my sunroom this afternoon, watching the chickadees drop down to the feeder outside my window, and I can’t wait to tell you about our new home — about the woods and the view and wonderful old-house quirkiness, but I can’t do that quite yet because I’m not really HERE. I mean, a bunch of my stuff is dumped and strewn about…
(Can anyone tell me what is going on here?)
…and we’ve slept here a few times (in our undies, ‘cuz where are the pajamas?)
…but we’re not really HERE yet in the sense of being settled enough to breathe and allow friends (or even the UPS man) through the door.
It probably didn’t help that we took off for a camping trip last weekend. (Camping? During a move?) We had vacation plans with some of our most beloved people long before this M-WORD came up, and we only see them once a year, so we did it. We just did it. It was the most ridiculous and wonderful decision ever, and I’ll tell you all about that adventure soon, but for now, I’m going in out to the garage…… to retrieve my griddle, the checkbook, and Gray’s socks.
Wish me luck.
If you enjoyed this post, read more personal essay here.
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