Moving Day

Food poisoning---> dehydration = getting a free pass on moving

I was up from 1-4 am shivering, trying not to puke, migraine growing, with my teeth chattering away. 

Rico went and opened a box to put an extra comforter on me. 

The next morning, he let me sleep in bed until the movers came, where he set me up in the basement. 

Yes, I had to sleep on the floor- but I couldn't move anyway.

It was like a tiny prison.

Small, dark, sitting on something cold and hard, the dog kennel made me think of bars, and I even got mush to eat (I actually requested it)

The difference? 

I was SO thankful to be there.

Just me, Eli, and Max locked away while everyone else did the work.

My in-laws and my mom came up to help get us moved. 

I was too weak to even pick Eli up, so my mom took him on

My mother in-law somehow got the shaft and spent all afternoon cleaning. 

All. Afternoon.

God bless her.

I wanted to take a goodbye picture, and by about 12 I managed to make my way out of my little heavenly prison to get these shots with my men.

I had imagined this picture with us all in coordinating outfits, with multiple poses, the light just so. Eli had an outfit all picked out (his "goodbye" outfit)

Or at least with me showered.

Or with brushed teeth.

Not in the rain.

Not with a husband drenched in sweat

Not with my son not still in his dino pj's.

Not hurried so we could get the movers finished and not have to pay overtime.

Eh, well, you don't always get what you want…but you get what you need.

I needed something that would keep me from dissolving into a blubbering sentimental idiot all day- and this sickness sure as heck did that.

God gave me what I needed- not how I would have wanted it, but he granted me distraction from the sadness.

I only cried once. I was the last one left with the house. I went room to room and said goodbye.

No, like literally.

Out loud.

"Goodbye kitchen. You were amazing."

"Goodbye dining room, sorry we only used you twice"

…this went on with literally every room in the house. Even the linen closet. I ended in our master bedroom. Then the last goodbye

"Goodbye closet… I'll miss you most of all"

That's when I lost it and finally cried.

Talk about feeding into the female stereotype? I should be ashamed.

I'm not, 

but I should be.

It was a great 5 years here. We were very blessed to have lived in such an amazing house and to have learned SO much in the process of giving it a face lift. 

Stuff about home improvement, yes, but we also learned how we each react to stress, how to use oldies music and wine to make a project go faster, how to compromise, and how to work as a team.

We became adults here. 

Real adults. 

Real adults who make really hard decisions: like leaving a place where you seemingly have it all.

The house you couldn't have even dreamed you would ever own, two jobs you love, fun friends, free random sporting events, and a community that seemed to be tailor made for you. 

Plus a lake. 

I'm going to miss the freakin' lake.

BUT, it didn't have it all. It was missing our family…and that's the only thing that makes leaving all of this ok. 

Leaving all this to go to absolute unknown. 

No jobs (yet)

No house (yet)

No REAL stability (yet)

On the drive home my mom summed it up pretty nicely: 

"You aren't making this move with your heads, you're making it with your hearts"

Well said.