Sunday, July 3, 2011

(Not So) Moving 2011, Part II

So I left off our current moving adventure by mentioning the family cold.  Cold is an understatement.  I can't remember the last time I was this sick!  It started out with a headache, then a sore throat, but not just any sore throat.  It was worse than the strep throat I used to get as a kid.  Then stuffy nose and runny nose and aching face, eyes, ears, nose, jaw ...  Eventually it moved down to my chest and I was left with a horrible, keep me up all night, cough.  The kind of cough that just maybe makes pregnant women with weak muscles pee their pants occasionally.  Maybe.  And it was 10 days of this miserableness.  Ten days of me thinking, "Oh Lord, please don't let my boys catch this!" 


The tenth day was the first night I went to bed feeling like I would actually sleep through til morning, and then both boys were up crying.  Every.other.hour.  It was pitiful.  Jude had a raging fever.  Jack kept crying "boo boo in my eye" and then I'd have to go in with a hot washcloth to melt the crusties out of the corners of his eyes.  Both kids' sheets were smeared with green snot... by 4am I couldn't get out of bed one more time.  So I tucked Jude in with us.  Except Jude doesn't like to sleep next to Mommy, he likes to sleep on Mommy.  Everytime I'd slide his limp body onto the mattress he'd perk back up and quickly crawl his way back onto my chest.  And there he laid, and drooled, the wee morning hours away.  Too sick to even notice the swift kicks his annoyed little sister was giving him.  Too sleepy to consider that his mama had a major neck cramp from trying to keep his hair out of her mouth all night.


It's been pitiful.  Jack, who normally says "Good morning Mama!" as soon as I open his door has instead switched to "Boo boos in my eye, I got boo boos in my eyyyyyye!" each morning (but then he says "Good morning Mama!" after we get him all cleaned up).  Jude has developed an obvious fear of warm washcloths and prefers to keep his boogers in his nose and eyes and snot running down his face.  After three days of no nap we finally realized that Jack can't do cough medicine, even the natural kind.  Apparently it makes him a little hyper.  And Jude eyes were so red and rashy I've been too embarrassed to take him out in public.

Oddly enough "the sickness" did nothing to curb Jude's appetite ... or his eating enthusiasm.

So you may be wondering what this all has to do with moving?  Well nothing really, except that it all started the day we moved.  And we've been fighting it ever since.  So you can imagine how easy it's been to unpack and set up when either you or your offspring are feeling pretty crummy.  And you can imagine how much you'd rather hide away in your house when everyone is "off" and cranky.  As much as I'd love to meet all our neighors I was so afraid one of them would stop by and catch me in my "no make-up, hasn't had a shower, my whole family is sick" state.  So I was pretty excited when the lady across the street knocked on our door just as I was ready to head out for the first time in a while - cute clothes, make-up, hair and all - to introduce herself and share some homemade, real Greek baklava.  Ahh, neighbors who bake!


Anyway, back to moving.  Nonnie came to save the day again.  She was so effective last time that we decided to book her for our current move a year in advance.  She and I tore through boxes in record time, and had the whole kichen finished by the end of the day.  Which is saying a lot, because we went from this:

More cupboards than I could fill, loads of counter space.

To this:

To "not enough cupboards and counters."


Which  means we still have a lot of this:

Lone box that I've put off unpacking and random catch-all corner until we figure something else out.

And in case you're wondering how we fit it all in, well we also have this:

Blessed storage space in utility room where we put everything that doesn't fit anywhere else.

This moving, this constant restructuring, rethinking, rehabiting thing, is tough.  In many ways, it's a change of lifestyle.  For instance, just think about how much of an impact electrical outlets have on our way of life. Our new master bathroom has one plug (one PLUG, not even one outlet).  A bathroom with one plug, I'd like to smack the person that designed that.  And it's not even near the sink.  So I have to keep my electric toothbrush in the other bathroom.  Which means I shower, wash my face, do my hair and make-up in one bathroom.  And then walk to the other one to brush my teeth.

Or our single car driveway.  Which means we're constantly tossing keys back and forth, switching cars in and out, so that the one with carseats is ready if we're taking kids.  Or the truck is out if we need to make, yet another, trip to Lowe's. 

And, after 5 years of enjoying its use, I'm adjusting to life without a garbage disposal.  Even though I never grew up with one, garbage disposals just seem to come with the whole "kids and crumbs" territory.  And I keep learning the hard way, the nasty, soggy food stuck in the drain way, to remember we no longer have one.  And we have to re-train Jack to first scrape his plate off in the trash can before taking it to the sink. 

Then there's the dishwasher that, when open, blocks access to 50% of my cupboard space.  So now we unload the dishwasher onto the counter, and then unload the counter into the cupboards.  Double the work, double the fun!

The "can't breathe through my nose" pose.

And that's just around the house.  These days, attempting to run an errand takes on a whole new meaning.  We rely on our Garmin for everything - Target, the mall, grocery store, the doctor's, church.  I've come to completely depend upon the little British navigator's voice pointing me in the right direction, even if it's just for some milk!

I decided to take the kids on a walk the other day.  I figured we'd meander our way around the neighborhood and check out the pretty houses.  And we did.  And then we ended up on the busy road that runs next to the Country Club where all the retired men are driving by in their convertibles saying things like, "Hey wanna give me a ride in the stroller too?"  And then I couldn't find a side street to turn down, so we ended up braving the giant hill.  Middle of the day, pregnant lady, pushing a double stroller, up a hill.  Long after we got down the other side I finally consulted Google Maps on my phone and realized I would need to turn around and do the hill again, or end up headed straight for the highway.  By the time we got home I was hot, sore and close to tears of exhaustion.  So much for a nice little walk.  Note to self, print out map of neighborhood before setting out on next walk. 

Still dealing with "boo boos in my eye."

You see what I mean?  Little things.  Seemingly insignificant things that all add up into one big overwhelming adjustment.  But it's good to.  Especially for people like me, people that order a mango gelati everytime they go to Rita's, people that could leave their couch in the exact same spot until it falls apart, and then replace it with a new couch in the very same spot.  People that get really upset when they find a hole in their bedsheets because no other set could possibly be as wonderful as the ones we've been using since we got married.  Those kind of people.  I could happily dwell in a rut for the rest of my life.  But instead I married a Coastie and I get to experience moving, and change, and restructuring on a daily basis.  And I know it's so good for me.

Yes, moving is so much more than unpacking boxes and picking paint colors.  But we're also having a lot of fun doing those things too.  And we really, really just LOVE our new house and town.  We haven't had a chance to do any major exploration, but so far we like what we see.  And soon, after a little more time to settle, we'll have plenty more to talk about!

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