Moving in...aaaaagain.

Imagine your best Eeyore voice there.

In 6 years of marriage, Chris and I have moved 5 times.  I'm exhausted.  But well organized.  I pine for those lovely people who get to live in a place for more than a few years.  I admit that I'm grossly jealous of them.  I will even go so far as to admit that when I married Chris, I felt certain that he would be the kind of man to settle down some place.

I haven't really seen evidence of that, but I will admit that I still find him interesting and I have hope for the settled aspects to come out in time.

How's that for blind optimism?

Anyway, as for the move...

We loaded the truck in suffocating heat, relief came in the form of ice cream and popsicles provided by my lovely friend Brett.  Once most of it was loaded, we sent my folks off to the air-conditioned relief of a hotel room and Chris and I bunked up on an airbed for the night.

We got up early (6am, anyone?) and cleaned and loaded up the last odds and ends.  And then we all piled up and drove NORTH.  We stopped at my folks, let the Boy loose and Chris and I headed over to the apartment complex to sign the lease.  We were both exhausted and fried but this quick turn-around would enable us to UNload the truck in the relatively cool morning hours rather than waiting around 'till noon.

So money was paid, keys were acquired and we returned to my parents house.  I shall admit that I was beginning to feel less than healthy at this time.  I brushed it off as severe allergies because DUDE--I do NOT have time to be sick during a move.  That much is certain.

We got up relatively early and Chris took the truck and headed out.  I lingered over breakfast.  I loathe unpacking in all it's varieties.  I loathe it after a trip, I loathe it at the beginning of a season requiring different clothes, I loathe it especially after a move.  I am not exaggerating when I say that I could have happily set a match to the entire contents of that truck in that moment.  Alas, Chris had already taken off with the truck leaving me no choice but to follow.

So I left the Boy cheerful with his Nana and Popper (HIS nomenclature, all his.  It's indescribably adorable) and drove down to face the music.

(I should note here how much I love, lurve, LUUUUURVE my family.)

Chris had left a message with one of the guys from our ward that we would be unloading the truck at 9am.  Normally, under normal, usual circumstances this would have been sufficient for 2-3 guys to show up and help out.  But the guy didn't answer his phone because his wife was havin' a baby.  So...um...yeah.  Not so much with the help from guys at church.  BUT!  My ultra-awesome nephews came and schlepped and helped and were every bit as awesome as their DNA and parentage could promise.  AND to top it all off, my awesome sister dropped off a cooler of drinks and some lovely snacks to see us through the day as well.  It was the best of omens.

So the men, my awesome men-folk, they schlepped and I organized and tried to keep things relatively orderly so that the unpacking could go smoothly.  Meanwhile, I'm feeling less and less like I'm suffering from severe allergies and more and more like I'm suffering from some mutant summer flu.  But I soldier on, because that's what WE do, we soldier on.

The nephews finished their work and took off and Chris and I got started with our work.  Mostly, we worked in the Boy's room which had sort of become the repository for everything that didn't currently have a home.  Which was A LOT of stuff.  But we worked steadily and by the time we left for the evening, the Boy's room was essentially set.  We still had to put a few odds and ends away, but by in large, it looked like the Boy's room.

The rest of the apartment was another matter.

I was now willing to admit that in spite of the move, I was indeed sick.  Sick, sick, sick.  And in urgent need of some laying around listlessly.  So that's what we did.  We went back to my parents' house, we ate, I blew my nose about 400 times and we laid around like cheese on toast.

I had fully intended to work on Sunday, feeling that my ox was in the mire and I needed, NEEEEEEDED my house to be in order, but I found myself sick, sick, sick.  So we skipped church in favor of more laying around listlessly.

Monday dawned and the Sick had shifted at some point during the night.  From being camped out in my sinuses to being camped out in Chris' sinuses!  Lovely!  The family that is sick together, stays together, right?  So we packed up some tissues and headed out to the apartment--determined as we all were to make it habitable.

My parents joined us.  My family were very much the heroes of the day--can you tell?  Dad went off to Home Depot for a different cord for our dryer (the one we had didn't reach), Mom helped me unpack and set up the kitchen in addition to playing with our Boy.  They both reminded us to stop and eat occasionally and also maybe drink something.

By the end of the day we had things down to a much more manageable pile.  It was just figuring out what to do with our piecemeal furniture that proved problematic.  We don't have much, but we are coming from a much more spacious apartment into a much more...shall we say...efficient establishment.  So it required all of my considerable wits to make things functional.

By Wednesday we were unpacked and by the time I went to bed there were pictures on the walls.  I am in desperate need of my orderly little nest.  I've been feeling unsettled for quite some time.  It took us another week to get internet service, but that's a whole other story.