I should be packing right now.
After all, our living room at the old house looks like this. (Praise the Lord, we have enough boxes!)
But writing keeps me sane, and I didn’t touch a computer yesterday, which is sort of like not having a cup of coffee every day. It just doesn’t happen right now.
Phil took three vanloads of stuff to the new house this week, and on Friday the kids and I spent the whole day at the farmhouse unpacking, cleaning and waiting for the gas company to show up.
I’m not sure what I liked more about the day: finding a loaf of moldy bread in a cabinet or learning that the gas company’s definition of “We’ll be there between 8 and noon, and we’ll call this number before we arrive” is actually showing up at 1:30 p.m. and not calling first. I had just loaded the kids in the car to go to a park because we were a bit stir crazy when the gas company van showed up. Well-played, UGI. I’m not sure we’re off to the best start.
But we had fantastic helper friends who brought cookies, Cheez-Its and laughter. Kristen helped unpack all of our book boxes and kept me from being lonely.
It’s weird being part here, part there.
Isabelle helped unpack some random kitchen utensils. She put two or three in every drawer in the kitchen.
Moving Lesson #1: Kids CAN be helpful during the move, but your definition of “helpful” will change.
Midweek, I got tired of packing boxes at the old house, but I can’t really stop.
Moving Lesson #2: Looking at boxes marked “Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups” will make you crave peanut butter cups like it’s the last food on earth.
And because the packing and unpacking can be somewhat monotonous, I feel like I hear more things from the kids.
Like this, from Corban, as we waited in the van on the highway taking Phil to work:
That’s an oil truck. That won’t help us.
When we asked him what we needed help with, he said, “For our move. For our big stuff.”
And at the farmhouse, while the kids were playing outside, I heard him say:
Excuse me, spider. Don’t be on the farmhouse!
If politely asking them to leave works on all critters, then I will be sweeping my house with kindness.
Moving Lesson #3: Find time to laugh. It relieves stress.
After not-so-patiently waiting for the gas company, and after they had finished their business, the kids and I went to Chick-fil-a for an afternoon treat. It was the second day in a row we had milkshakes.
Moving Lesson #4: Drink milkshakes, especially if it’s summer. You deserve it for all the sweaty, hard work.
The kids played in the play area for a few minutes, mostly by themselves. When another little girl finally joined them, Isabelle immediately told her:
My dad works here.
I couldn’t see the other little girl’s reaction, but I could hear it.
I wish my dad worked here!
Yep. We’re the envy of the elementary school crowd.
And when we finally got home last night, well after our regular dinner time, there was only one thing left to do: Order take-out.
We don’t eat out often, and we don’t always have the money to do it. But moving is an extreme circumstance.
Moving Lesson #5: It’s okay to order out for dinner and eat at 7 p.m. Be flexible with routines. Do what you gotta do.
Last week was our trial run for packing and moving. I carefully chose things I didn’t think we’d need over the next few weeks. Now that I have a better idea of space and how things might fit, it’s no mercy this week. I’m packing it all, and if that means we’re eating delivery pizza with our hands off the floor every night, so be it. (I’m kidding, I think.)
This I know: the coffee pot will be the last thing to go. Unless I buy another one so my coffee can be in two places at once.
