We Moved!

. . . And now I suddenly have no time ever. When you have the most to write about, you have the least time to write.

Here are the Cliffs Notes.

Geoff took the Boards in Florida on June 14 and 15, after studying for months. In the meantime I continued packing up all of our worldly possessions--a long-ongoing process. While he was gone my parents were able to come and help me with the kids for a couple of days, thank goodness. Also we snuck in one last trip to the children's museum.

Geoff came back and worked for three more days, followed by four days off. We continue packing in the ungodly heat with no air-conditioning while managing two sweaty and eventually snotty and coughing children. Parenting demanding children during the day meant lots of packing into the wee hours. It was misery.

Tuesday the 22nd was Geoff's "graduation." Normally this event is a picnic to close out the old year, welcome the new incoming residents, and say goodbye to those who are moving on. It was moved indoors this year because of weather, and was held in the atrium of the Women's Hospital, steps from where I delivered two babies, but will probably never visit again. Geoff is saying goodbye to people he has worked closely with for four years, who have helped shape the beginning of his pathology career. It's a lot of physical work, moving, but also a lot of emotional work closing out this important and generally really positive chapter of our lives.

Everyone asks, "So when is your actual moving day?"
"In about fifteen hours."
"Oh!"
"Yeah."

We went home and stayed up almost all night packing. It's like trying to dig a hole in the sand. I feel like I've been "almost done" for days, but can't quite get to the end. We are, however, ready when the movers show up at nine the next morning. I am very grateful that my parents are again able to come help out. And that my dad got pictures.

We had set up our pick-up date for Wednesday the 23rd, and the moving company gave us a delivery window of the 24th through July 3rd. My parents had invited us to stay with them for the time we would need--do a little laundry, get a little sleep, get a last visit in. It wasn't to be; upon arriving at our apartment, the driver let us know that our delivery date would be the very next day. We agreed on noon as the delivery time.

They loaded the truck from 9 am till about 1 pm, we got out of there and went to my parents' for an early dinner, and then we left for Minnesota around 5 pm. I feel exhausted, sticky, and dirt smudged just remembering it. Driving mostly at night would allow the kids to sleep in the car, though. Also, if anything goes wrong and you're not prepared to receive delivery on time, there are dire financial consequences, so we didn't want to cut it close at all.

We arrived around 1 am and slept on the floor, in our clothes, with the kids, since most of the bedding and pajamas were in the laundry we didn't get to wash. At 9 am the driver called to say they were ready to deliver, if we were ready to accept our stuff. I told him to come on over. I doubt they noticed we were still wearing the same clothes from the day before.

They unloaded our stuff and my parents arrived that evening to help us settle and to see the new place. My mother can't rest easy if she hasn't seen where her children are living; she needs to be able to picture us in our homes. Worked out well for us. They arrived Thursday evening and stayed (in a hotel) through Saturday, driving home Sunday. It was very hard to say goodbye to them, to say the least.

It was good of them to come for the not-so-fun part, because that first week or so is just hassle after hassle, from trying to get our washer and dryer to finding ants in the dining room. Slowly these problems get worked out one by one. It's all a blur.

Then there's like a two-week period of mourning for the old life. Our new home and town are great, but I am just sad. Saaaaaad. I miss my family, I miss a lot of things about Evanston, I miss the too-small nursery where we first brought Cora home from the hospital. How could you not? The other day we came in from the pool because it was starting to thunder, and the phone rang as we came in the door. It was Cora's grandpa and cousin Logan wanting to Skype. So we video chatted with them in the basement for a bit. Cora came upstairs, and when I came up a minute later, she was standing at the sliding glass door watching the rain. I came up behind her to look too, and without turning around, she says, "I so sad! I miss Logan. I miss Grandpa. I see him soon. I give him a big hug." I kid you not! Consider your heart officially broken right there.

'Tis better to have loved and lost, kiddo.

We're turning the corner on all that, of course, as we get settled in. I hate being new in town and struggling with the basics (what was that turnoff for the grocery store again?) but it's temporary. We're getting the kinks worked out and finding ourselves some happy. More posts about that to come.

So all in all, that's considered a move that went smoothly--nothing was broken or lost, it arrived on time, no disasters befell us. It felt grueling, though. It went fast--like ripping off a band-aid--but it felt like it went on and on, like it all took place on one super-long day. I'm glad we're done moving for a few months.