Inventory

It won't be officialofficial until we close on Friday, but we're getting our house. The air conditioning issue has been resolved.  I've started packing. The give-away pile is growing. I bought two light fixtures today (thank you craigslist)  and Future Mr. Husband picked up a truckload of flooring yesterday.

I feel like I should be more excited, but it all feels very surreal at this point.  I think once Friday rolls around and the in laws are here and we have the keys in our hot little hands it will sink in and I'll start to get excited.  Right now what I'm mainly feeling is overwhelmed.

You see, I hate moving.  I really, really, hate moving.  I blame it on being a Capricorn. When I was a young and single gal, moving was a choice I made begrudgingly. It usually had to do with rent being raised beyond what I could afford.  And so, I'd carry home (yes, carry. I lived and worked downtown and didn't have a car for years)  boxes from work or the liquor store every day for about two weeks. I'd pack them up, bribe some friends who had cars with a promise of beer and pizza, and spend the better part of a Saturday shoving bookshelves into a Volkswagen.  Sunday I would unpack as much as possible and it was back to work on Monday; a little disoriented but not much worse for the wear. Within a week I had the place feeling like home again.

Each consecutive move since my young and single days has gotten more complicated.  To prepare for my move to Austin, I moved from a one bedroom to a more affordable studio apartment (in the same building, at least) where I stayed for a month. Then I moved everything into storage and moved myself onto my friend's couch for a month. Then she and I moved everything from storage into a U Haul, plus all her stuff, plus our combined sewing studio, across the country and into a house we shared in Austin.  After a year there, I got pregnant, she got married and we both moved out of that house. 

My  next move, of course, involved combining my household with Babydaddy's household, which means twice as much stuff.  We had barely started unpacking our things in that rental house, we were told it was about to be sold and we had to get the heck out.  So six weeks after moving in, we moved out and into the house where we are now. 

Over the two and half years that we've been living in our current home, we've managed to acquire a few things. For example:

a person
all the junk that person needs to keep him safe/fed/happy/busy

It's really quite staggering. In two years we've managed to fill an entire bedroom with furniture, a closet floor to ceiling with stuff he outgrew but we might need if and when we have another baby, and every available space that remains with his accouterments; bibs, bowls, spoons, sippy cups, potty chairs, yard toys, trikes and wheely things, toys, toys and toys upon toys.

We have exactly three weeks from this posting to get packed and moved.  While I'm here packing, tossing, organizing and sorting, the Future Husband will be working at his job during the day, and going to the new house after work to help his dad install floors, paint cabinets and do other things with tools.  I am more than happy to take over the responsibility of packing the house to free him up to work on the new house.  Me and tools don't get along so well. But like I said, it's a little overwhelming. Not only do I have an entire house to pack and organize, I have reading for school to do over spring break, regular life type-stuff, like laundry and meals to think about, and then there's that kid that follows me around and wants things.  So, a lot going on.

Right now the focus is to try to stay calm, do as much as I can without getting frantic and crazy about it, and remember to feed the toddler.  Wish me luck.