This is moving week. Sort of. Last week was also moving week. And the one before that. We're trying this new thing called a "slow move".
Two weeks ago, Brian and his Uncle Bryce moved over all the non-essentials to the new house. That giant pile of boxes in my basement was relocated to the new basement. Which made this house feel really nice for a while. There was all this closet space! And storage space! And you could see the floor in the basement! It was glorious and nifty and we enjoyed it for approximately 6 days. We even laughed a bit that maybe we should just have someone go and take away all that stuff that we just moved - because we didn't miss any of it. Granted, when the kids needed the next size/season of clothes there would have been a big problem, but it is amazing how many things we keep!!!
And then my dear husband got this awesome idea to move almost all of our furniture on the Friday of last week. Yes. During Tulip Time. There were a whole host of little reasons why this might be a good idea and my only argument in protest was that my life was crazy enough already. Apparently that holds no real persuasive pull with the man I married. Go figure. So again (poor Uncle Bryce) the two of them began emptying my house of all the bigger things - like dressers, couches, chairs, tables, bed frames, shelves, and desks.
Of course, it needs to be mentioned that moving with just two men and a truck (ahem) is not for the faint of heart. And what these two men and a truck needed at one point was the voice of reason (ahem) to step in and give a bit of...advice. We are the owners of an entertainment center armoire that quite possibly weighs more than most pianos. Not to mention it is really tall and really awkward and will never ever be moved again. Not kidding. If we ever move out of our house (the new one, that is), one of two things will happen to said entertainment center: a) it will be sold as a fixture with the house or b) it will be chopped up with a hacksaw and made into kindling. After attempting to slide it out of our "old" house (and down 7 stairs), the voice of reason was forced to step in and request that we call in emergency backup. Because there was just no way in the world that going into the new house was going to be any easier. After Brian nearly dropped his side of the armoire, but fortunately caught it with his head, he sent me inside to make those calls for help. Help did arrive and we praise the Lord for him!! Although, said help has informed me that he is probably too busy to help us move ever again. I don't blame him.
Somehow I held on to my sanity as I pared down our stuff to the things we really truly needed for one last week here. Everyone has a box of their clothes in their room. If something you need isn't in there, then you just aren't going to have it until I find it in the new house. Keep in mind how neatly children sift through piles of clothes being stored in a box. In the future, whenever I am tempted to be annoyed at the disarray in their dresser drawers, I will look back on this time in my life and remind myself IT COULD ALWAYS BE WORSE!
Boxes of clothes, mattresses, and a folding table and chairs. That's all we have left here. Basically, we are squatting in our own home. It's awesome? It's all a bit like camping, I think. Hunter thinks it is delightful and would probably prefer we just not have furniture. He has all this space to run and most of the time he just dashes to and fro with giggles.
The paper chain is dwindling down - with just a handful of links left to be torn off. And I'll be honest, I am getting ready. This weekend I allowed myself to unpack just one box in the new house. And it felt good. Like the start of something that will be normal. A new normal, of course. While I am still a little unsure about that final moment, the one where I leave this place of home for the last time, I am also looking forward to a new beginning.
Life is so full of endings and beginnings. It happens all the time in little ways, and less often but still notably in big ways. As much as I initially resisted the idea of a slow move, I am glad now that Brian pushed me into it. It's given me time to transition not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. It has forced me (in a good way) to reevaluate how I define home. That's a rather big deal for a homebody like me ;) As it should be, home is where my people are. This whole transition has been a strong reminder of that!
Not to mention, I miss my couch.
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